77
Chapter 77: Group Individuals
Wade finished explaining in detail, avoiding exaggeration or embellishment.
Despite this, Professor McGonagall remained visibly angry, her nostrils flaring as if she might breathe fire at any moment. "Bullying classmates... using derogatory names... Such behavior is intolerable. Severus, I'm assigning Mr. Malfoy at least a month's detention!"
Professor Snape, lost in thought, looked pale and distant. After hearing McGonagall's decree, he hesitated momentarily before murmuring, "Yes... of course, Minerva... do as you see fit..."
"Very well!" McGonagall exhaled, her stern expression softening slightly as she turned to Wade.
"Mr. Grey—"
"Yes, Professor," Wade nodded solemnly, "I understand that using spells on classmates in the corridors is unacceptable..."
"Ahem," Professor Flitwick interjected with a cough. "Yes, you were too impulsive. What if you had been injured? For your rashness, I must deduct... uh..."
Professor Flitwick glanced discreetly at his colleagues.
"—Five points!" He announced firmly, gritting his teeth, then winked subtly at Wade, implying reassurance that they would make up the points later.
Professor McGonagall allowed herself a small smile. "Indeed—simultaneously, for bravely defending your classmates and successfully using the Disarming Charm, I'll award you ten points, Mr. Grey. Clearly, you're quite adept at practical magic!"
---
"Ten points awarded?" Michael exclaimed in surprise from the common room.
"It was actually five added, after Professor Flitwick deducted five earlier," Wade clarified.
"I know... but that's Professor McGonagall!" Michael was incredulous. "She doesn't typically favor Gryffindor that much!"
"It's precisely because Professor McGonagall is so fair that she awarded Ravenclaw ten points!" Padma interjected. "Considering what Malfoy did... a month's detention seems appropriate!"
"Not only that, they didn't gain much favor with Professor Snape," Theo added with a piece of insider information. "Some saw Slytherins going to Snape to complain. He threw them out in less than two minutes."
Ryan nodded knowingly. "Even though Snape is usually strict, he wouldn't unjustly favor Slytherin, right?"
Neville might have disagreed. To him, if they could see how Snape unfairly targeted Gryffindor and Slytherin in Potions class, they might not be so confident. It was a perspective far removed from reality.
As they chatted, the door to the common room swung open—only one person arrived at this hour. Padma eagerly waved and called out, "Hermione!"
The brown-haired girl entered with a cheerful step, greeting them brightly. "Good afternoon, everyone!"
"Huh?" Padma squinted in confusion. "Hermione, you seem a bit different today."
"Oh, no, it's just—" Hermione brushed hair behind her ear, speaking with a slight blush, "Maybe I heard Malfoy got his comeuppance—I might have been a bit too gleeful—"
"Well..." Padma raised an eyebrow. Was that really the reason?
Michael, noticing immediately, had always remembered Hermione's distinctive large front teeth and unkempt brown hair that resembled a beaver's. Today, her teeth were perfectly normal-sized and aligned, enhancing her usual charm.
"Wow, Hermione!" Michael complimented, avoiding the obvious change. "You look really radiant today."
Hermione blushed shyly, diverting attention by turning towards the person behind her. "Come in, Harry!"
After hesitating outside the door, Harry Potter finally stepped inside. All eyes turned towards him, and the boy awkwardly ran his hand through his hair.
They had met many times before in class, yet seeing Harry Potter—new to their "territory" or "circle"—still stirred a mix of curiosity and wonder.
Silence stretched for a moment.
Feeling awkward, Harry greeted them, "Um—hello, everyone? I'm Harry Potter..."
Instantly, he regretted his choice—how foolish! They'd been classmates for over half a year; everyone knew each other.
Hermione had coached him to make a good impression, but he felt he'd stumbled from the start...
Surely, they must find it odd for him to state the obvious, right? He must look utterly daft...
"Shall we introduce ourselves again?" Wade rose first, extending his hand with a smile. "Hello, Harry. I'm Wade Grey."
Embarrassment lessened when others joined in the ritual.
Gratefully, Harry shook Wade's hand.
Michael Corner extended his hand next. "Welcome. I'm Michael Corner—been wanting to say, catching the Golden Snitch on the pitch last time was pretty cool! Looking forward to your next match."
"Thank you," Harry replied, smiling shyly.
"Welcome aboard, Harry. I'm Theo Mancini," Theo greeted with a grin. "Next match, it'll be Hufflepuff facing off against you. Just wishing you a good game—I hope Hufflepuff wins."
Harry wished he could come up with a witty response but settled for Wood's passionate speech in the rain instead—
"Hufflepuff's no match for us!"
No... that wouldn't do...
"Beat Hufflepuff! Win the House Cup!"
Enough! He didn't want to offend them...
"We have to give it our all! First time in seven years! Let's impress Professor McGonagall!" Wood had cheered!
Harry:...
"I'll certainly give it my best!" Harry blurted out before thinking.
Theo smiled. "That's the spirit."
"Ryan Carlo." Ryan shook hands, his smile genuine if restrained. "I've never joined any other clubs, but SSC must be top-notch."
"Absolutely," Harry agreed quickly.
"Padma Patil." Padma smiled as they shook hands. "Just don't mistake me for my sister."
"I won't," Harry assured her firmly.
Unlike the indistinguishable Weasley twins, the Patil sisters were markedly different. Though similar in appearance, their personalities, temperaments, and expressions set them apart, making it impossible for anyone to confuse them.
"Lastly—me," Hermione concluded with a smile, shaking hands cordially. "Your friend—and a fellow SSC member."
"Oh—Hermione—" Harry couldn't help but laugh.
In that moment, Harry forgot all his earlier apprehensions. Amid their playful initiation, he felt genuinely welcomed into a group—a stark contrast to the hero worship or Ron's companionship he was used to.
Harry couldn't quite explain the difference, but he knew he felt remarkably light-hearted, as if he'd landed on a soft cloud.