Chapter 974 - 399: What’s So Good About Little Deng?

Chapter 974: Chapter 399: What’s So Good About Little Deng?

Apparently, Hermione didn’t feel like Annie was going easy on her, and instead, she believed her dueling skills had made great progress.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have had such an even match with Annie.

She even fantasized that, with her talent, perhaps in a while, she’d be on par with Pabi and Cassandra?

The reason was quite simple, because Professor Slughorn had specifically taken an interest in her duel.

When Annie and Hermione put down their magic wands, Professor Slughorn asked, "Dear, could you tell me your name?"

"Hermione Granger, sir." Hermione said excitedly, her face flushed.

Professor Slughorn immediately became alert—he thought of a name, a very renowned name.

"Granger? Granger? Are you related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, the founder of the Extraordinary Pharmacists Association?"

Hermione denied without hesitation, "No, I shouldn’t be, sir... I’m Muggle-born."

But Slughorn didn’t seem disappointed, on the contrary, he smiled brightly, looking at Hermione and then at Harry sitting beside her.

He remembered the person Harry had mentioned on the train earlier.

"Oh yes! ’I have a best friend who’s also Muggle-born, and she’s the best in our year!’ I can be sure, this must be the friend you were talking about, right, Harry?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said.

"Excellent, excellent, let’s award Miss Granger of Gryffindor a well-deserved twenty points." Professor Slughorn said warmly.

The Slytherin students immediately wilted like frost-beaten eggplants, especially Draco, who, while picking at his nails, murmured something under his breath and grinned cheekily at Ron.

Hermione turned to Harry, delighted, and whispered, "Did you really tell him I’m the best in our year? Oh, Harry!"

"Oh, come on, it’s no big deal," Ron said in a low voice, a bit annoyed, "You are the best in our year—if he asked me, I’d say the same thing!"

"Hey." Harry quickly interjected, "Don’t be jealous, Ron, I just mentioned it, that’s all—"

Hermione laughed, reached over to ruffle Ron’s hair, but then made a shushing gesture so they could hear what Slughorn was saying.

Ron finally beamed.

Harry let out a sigh.

Poor Tom.jpg...

Whatever, he’s my buddy, my buddy...

"Sir, I suppose you know my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"

Harry looked up to see Slughorn walking past the Slytherin table.

"Yes," Professor Slughorn looked at Draco and said, "I heard he passed away, I was very sorry, but it was to be expected, at such an age and having contracted dragon pox..."

However, he abruptly changed the subject.

"I also knew your great-aunt... or rather, your great-great-aunt, she was a remarkable witch... Additionally, your great-grandfather Ignatius Malfoy, and your great-great-grandfather Septimus Malfoy were both men of distinction."

Draco was very pleased but didn’t catch the underlying meaning of Professor Slughorn’s words.

That meant—your grandfather was too mediocre, not fit to be compared to his father, aunt, and grandfather, not even to mention.

Your father isn’t any better either.

"That simple-minded fool." Ron said in a controlled voice, laughing gleefully.

After class, Harry suddenly saw someone waiting for him at the doorway.

It was Abekrombi, a second-year student, who was delighted to see Harry and waved energetically to greet him.

"They all told me you were in Defense Against the Dark Arts class." Abekrombi said, "So I came—by the way, Principal Dumbledore asked me to pass on a message, he says he’ll be waiting for you in the Headmaster’s Office, there are some things he wants to discuss with you—he also says he likes Acid Pops."

"I got it." Harry said, patting Abekrombi on the shoulder with a smile, watching the young man bounce away.

Suddenly, Harry realized his mindset now seemed a bit different.

Young people, eh? Haha!

"I need to go to the Headmaster’s Office." He told Ron and the others, "You guys go to the Great Hall to eat, I might not come back for dinner."

"Are you staying in Professor Dumbledore’s Headmaster’s Office to sip maple syrup?" Ron made a small, cheeky joke.

"Well, then I can only wish you spend the day squeezing Flubber Worms in Professor Snape’s office." Harry replied just as cheekily.

"But I still don’t get it." Ron scratched his face and said, "Acid Pops? Isn’t he fond of sweet things? Why would he say he likes that kind of sour, tangy stuff? You know, even my mom, who loves sour things, finds it hard to handle."

"Who knows." Harry shrugged.

After bidding farewell to his friends, Harry quickly strode down the long corridor, when suddenly, he saw Professor Trelawney turn the corner, washing a dirty pack of cards in her hands, reading the numbers on the cards to herself; Harry quickly ducked behind a statue.

He really didn’t want to see Professor Trelawney; what if she stared at him and said something weird?

It’s not that he feared those prophecies, he just thought they were too inauspicious.