Chapter 542: Chapter 451: As If Resolving to Do Something
"...Damn!"
Newt rarely swore, and his hands clutching those two long horns almost instantly went limp, his whole body was tossed onto the dragon's head. The Swooping Evil beside him decisively tossed the suitcase to Lina, then flapped its wings and flew towards Newt, successfully rescuing the old man from the Dragon Flame of the Fire Dragon.
"What's wrong with it?"
Placed on Lina's back by the Swooping Evil, Newt just caught his breath and looked up again into the sky, at the seemingly out-of-control Fire Dragon—the elderly man immediately noticed the collar on its neck, with reddish-brown light shining brightly—the Fire Dragon's originally deep green pupils had been dyed a crimson red, with deep madness.
Countless thoughts spun around in Newt's head, yet he couldn't think of a single way to subdue this crazy Fire Dragon without hurting it—not quite, technically there's one way.
Newt hesitated for a moment, then glanced at the Fire Dragon that had begun charging towards him. He decisively pulled a Niffler out of his pocket.
"Boom—"
As the blue Rune Stone from the Niffler's pocket shattered, a hand appeared out of nowhere, tearing open space, and William's figure stepped out from within the blue light.
"...What's going on?"
Still wearing pajamas, William yawned, looking around somewhat confused.
"Roar—"
"Holy—"
...
After that "shocking" public class (in a physical sense, half of the hall collapsed), Hogwarts was filled with bustling discussions and the rustling sound of parchment on the weekend.
At the Gryffindor Tower, the fireplace in the common room was lit again. Ron was curled up beside the low table in the center of the carpet, with a brand-new dueling class application form spread out in front of him. The boy absentmindedly shoved a quill into his mouth, then choked on it, coughing violently—
"Advanced class requires at least five 'O's for the O.W.L. exams... Regular class requires E in Defense Against Dark Arts and Charm Class, and passing all other subjects at least..."
He mumbled on for a while, finally unable to resist sighing, "Luckily, these 'other subjects' don't include Divination class, otherwise the few of us would all get weeded out—" He glanced across the low table where Harry was scratching his head over this week's Magic Potion homework.
"...Did Professor McGonagall really say it's for third grade and above? Why does it feel like this threshold is as high as applying for a Merlin Order medal?"
"..."
Harry finally struggled to lift his head from the pile of essays, rubbing his sore eyes, "Ron, take a closer look, it says 'reference' basic subject grades, not requiring all 'O's. Your Charm is pretty good, and you got an 'E' in Defense Against the Dark Arts last term, much better than when Neville and I joined the club."
Although the club members were supposedly predetermined, Harry and the others still needed to fill out a form.
"Exactly!"
Ginny was nestled in an armchair in the corner with a thick book, chiming in without looking up, "Look at Fred, their O.W.L. result sheets are abstract enough to go for an art exhibition, but they still got selected for 'excellent' performance, didn't they? Just submit the application form, it's Professor McGonagall reviewing it, not Snape."
At the mention of Snape, Ron instinctively shrank his neck.
Since yesterday morning, Snape had been "lurking" around the academy, his face looking darker than the bottom of Neville's burnt cauldron, and the chilling wind he stirred as he moved down the corridor seemingly able to freeze the torches on the walls. His breath seemed to carry a layer of frost.
Almost all Gryffindor students stayed in the common room today, making the usual spacious territory exceptionally crowded.
With Snape around, getting caught meant losing ten points. Until yesterday, Hermione thought she wouldn't get caught, but just after stepping out she quickly returned, saying that Snape thought her hair was too messy, affecting campus appearance—this was simply fear-mongering.
To counter Snape, they even considered going together to the Dueling Class professor's office to find the "Hufflepuff version of Snape," but William had inexplicably vanished once again.
Thus, just one interest into the semester, Slytherin's hourglass was leading by a landslide.
So, at this very moment, the atmosphere in Slytherin's dungeon was completely different from upstairs. As long as they didn't provoke Snape, there was no danger, and now the temptation of the Dueling Class was great. Therefore, even though their Basilisk had just been defeated, the little wizards couldn't resist the allure of signing up.
"...Why do you seem so troubled?"
Having just finished filling out the form, Daphne blew on the ink on the parchment and stood up, rubbing her sore wrist and preparing to stretch, when she noticed Malfoy sitting on the opposite armchair staring fixatedly at her—
She instinctively pulled her Wizard Robe tighter, covering her slender, fair legs, but Malfoy's eyes still remained fixed in that direction.
If she hadn't realized he wasn't really looking at her, Daphne might have suspected this fellow had developed X-ray vision.
"...Nothing, just thinking about some issues."
Malfoy shook his head, "Are you going to submit the form? Help me take mine too." With that, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to the girl. Clark and Goyle wisely didn't fill out forms; he couldn't find anyone to run errands, since clearly the relationship among the three was no longer as good as before.
"Why don't we go together?"
The girl pulled her golden hair back into a ponytail and issued a "team invitation."
"...Okay."
Malfoy seemed to hesitate for a moment, then followed the girl out of the dark and damp common room.
"Professor."
Just as they left the common room, Daphne stopped in surprise. Yes, Snape resurfaced at the corner of the staircase. He nodded at the two but didn't say much, yet as the two passed him, Malfoy's footsteps hesitated slightly.
"...What's wrong with you again? Are you alright?"
Turning two corners, Daphne looked back, noticing the boy who seemed to be tense all over. She couldn't help but ask quietly, her gaze probing.
"...I'm perfectly fine."
Malfoy's voice was somewhat dry, as if squeezed out from his throat. He replied perfunctorily, his eyes staring unflinchingly ahead, as if trying to discern some omen from the flickering torches.
"...Alright."
After being brushed off several times, the girl couldn't help but huff, turning away from Malfoy, the heavy boot heels clicking against the stone bricks.
"..."
In the moment the girl turned away, Malfoy's gaze instantly shifted from perfunctory to determined. He took a deep breath as if making some kind of decision.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone