"I need to remind you, Mr. Finigan." Professor Sprout stood behind Seamus, her expression complicated, "Generally speaking, very few plants like grease..."
Before she finished speaking, a burst of intense flames rose in front of Seamus, followed by a loud bang.
The flowerpot exploded.
"I think you should have reminded him earlier, Professor," Neville said with a blackened face from the side.
Professor Sprout shook her head helplessly, waved her magic wand, and used a "Cleaned Up" spell on the two unfortunate kids.
The next students didn't engage in dangerous behavior, but all they could choose besides the cottonseed hulls and sawdust she mentioned were other materials.
Some students even selected several stones to serve as the growing medium for Jumping Jack growth.
"Not a bad idea, Mr. Weasley." Professor Sprout looked at Ron's flowerpot with satisfaction, "Fallen leaves... you have a good understanding of the environment where Jumping Jacks grow. Yes, they grow beside bushes and trees, which means they might like fallen leaves."
"Gryffindor, five points." she added.
Ron's face was red; actually, he was just guessing and wasn't very sure.
Associating fallen leaves with bushes and trees was also his instinctive reaction—or, perhaps, a childhood memory.
Before attending Hogwarts, Fred and George always liked to take him to pick up fallen leaves, selecting the strongest leaf stems to break against each other.
To make the leaves stronger, they tried many methods. For instance, Fred and George liked to soak the stems in Dad's liquor.
However, they were too careless, so much so that Dad discovered it. Upon learning of this, Mr. Weasley was furious and confiscated the leaf stems that had been soaked in alcohol—then used these leaf stems to break all the leaf stems collected by the three kids.
"This is a lesson for you." Mr. Weasley said triumphantly after winning.
The next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Since Professor Vida Rozier had some personal matters to attend to, the substitute teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts was actually Professor Scamander.
Oh, not that socially anxious Newt, but that Gael.
Professor Snape had not commented on this for now. He had coveted this position for a long time, and now it was suddenly taken away by someone with no chance even for a substitute role, so his face was even more unpleasant.
As a result, Gryffindor lost their beloved fourteen points.
Although Gellert didn't use his original appearance, his dress was still the same, with that unruly sunflower parrot look.
"Hello, everyone." Gellert stood at the podium, smiling at everyone, "I am your substitute professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and before we start, I want to ask everyone a question—who is Dumbledore's favorite student?"
As soon as he finished speaking, all the students from the four houses simultaneously looked at Harry, who was sneaking a snack.
Harry raised his head in confusion, a small snack brought back by Vivi from the Muggle world still in his mouth.
Gellert still had the same smile, but Harry could feel that Gellert wasn't very happy.
Not only are you my sister's favorite man, but also Dumbledore's favorite student?
Gellert suddenly found that compared to this scarred spectacled beast, Scamander seemed much more pleasing to the eye.
But noticing Pabi beside him, he swallowed his frustration.
Mustn't rush, absolutely mustn't leave a bad impression on Miss Pabi—after all, I still need to set up the scarhead with the unicorn.
Ah, they are indeed a good match.
Meanwhile, Gellert was also contemplating whether he should take a small revenge on Dumbledore and Harry.
You have your favorite student; I should have one worthy of my teachings too.
Of course, I could pass down all my knowledge to him.
Gellert glanced around and saw Hermione.
Hmm... Hermione won't do, not because of her Muggle background, but mainly because Gellert felt Hermione was just Harry's friend, nothing more.
Besides, being good friends with Hermione doesn't give Harry any advantage.
What should I do?
Who to choose?
Soon, Gellert set his target on Ron.
This kid, surname Weasley, is a descendant of Harry's good brother Gareth from a hundred years ago.
In this era, Ron is also Harry's best friend, without a doubt.
Gellert decided to observe a bit more to see if this kid was suitable to be his good friend.
It's worth mentioning that Ron isn't the clumsy oaf many stereotypically think; actually, his talent in magic spells isn't low.
At least in Gellert's eyes, Ron is quite adaptable.
In class, Gellert made it a point to give Ron some pointers.
Harry didn't expect Gellert to favor Ron so much, but he didn't think much of it, assuming Gellert saw Ron's potential as worth nurturing.
After class, Ron was still savoring the moment.
He had never received such attention since he was a child, and in the few praises from the substitute professor, Ron felt slightly lost.
During dinner, Ron kept talking about this.
"I think Assistant Gael is really amazing; he actually discovered talent like me," Ron said happily.
"I've always thought you were capable, Ron," Harry replied with a chuckle.
But Ron's good mood was soon ruined.
"Oh, please, 2-16 Weasley." Draco's voice rang behind him, "It's just that the professor worried you might lose interest in learning. Do you think your skill in magic spells is really that high? No way, you wouldn't really think that, would you?"
Ron's face immediately fell.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" he said angrily, "So what if I've lost sixteen times? If you're not happy, why don't you try it? I bet you're not even as good as me..."
"With your pathetic chess skills..." Draco said dismissively, "I think I could handle it too."
"Why don't the two of you have a match, Malfoy?" Hermione suddenly switched to Ron's defense mode, "You don't think Ron is any good at Wizard Chess? Then try and see who's really better. That way, everyone will have a witness."
"Fine, let's do it, who's afraid of who?" Draco sat next to Ron, "So, Weasley, and Granger, when shall we start the match?"
Just as Hermione was about to speak, Ron pulled her back.
Though he's not that good against professional players, he felt confident facing his classmates.
"It won't be fun just competing," he said, "How about we bet on something? What do you say, Malfoy?"
"Bet on what?" Draco laughed, "You're just someone who scored 2-16 in the Wizard Chess competition; do you really have the confidence to beat me? Let me tell you, Weasley, I'll make sure you never touch Wizard Chess again!"
"You really dare to bet with me?" Ron asked suspiciously.
"Of course I do! Stop being such a wimp, Weasley!" Draco said loudly.
At the same time, first and second-year Slytherins gathered around to see what was happening.
"How about this, Malfoy," Ron's eyes sparkled with an idea, "Let's bet—whoever loses has to shout in Magic Potion class, 'I love the old bat.' How about it?"
Hearing Ron's bet, Draco's expression stiffened.
He couldn't imagine what Professor Snape's reaction would be if he shouted that in Magic Potion class.
"Draco, are you scared?" a Slytherin classmate chimed in, "Gosh, it's just smelly Weasley. Are you really afraid of him?"
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