Chapter 55: Confinement again? (Edited)

Naturally, Fish's escape didn't work, and he didn't actually intend to run away from home, but little Hammer used that excuse to get his parents to buy him something three times before he actually ran away.

'So this is the first time I've used it, and Minerva will definitely buy me a broom,' the kitten thought with absolute certainty.

With Fish's nonsensical tantrum, he was soon caught by Professor McGonagall and taken to the second floor staff room.

"Don't think I'm going to buy you something like Hammer's mother did when she heard him say he was going to run away from home!", As soon as she entered the room, Professor McGonagall shattered Fish's illusions.

"Meow!" Fish was startled and exclaimed, "This isn't what we talked about! Hammer in the book was bought three things! You don't want me to be like him, do you? Why aren't you like Hammer's mother?"

"I told you to learn his good things, not Hammer's bad habits too...," Professor McGonagall rubbed her eyebrows and sighed in disbelief.

"That's good, meow! Hammer got what he wanted with this trick!" said Fish.

It was clear that there was a fundamental difference between what Fish meant by good and what Professor McGonagall meant by good.

Professor McGonagall knew there was no point in pressing this with Fish, and she said firmly, "Anyway, forget it, I can't buy you a flying broom!"

"Minerva is biased meow!", Fish rolled again, "You bought it for Scarhead!"

"I told you, I didn't buy Potter's broom, that's what the team gave him when he joined the Quidditch team," Professor McGonagall again explained thoroughly.

"Then I'll join too, Meow," Fish, who had stopped throwing tantrums, merely sat on the floor and bowed his head to Professor McGonagall.

"To make the Quidditch team, you have to spend three nights a week training really hard with them, can you do that?" said Professor McGonagall.

"I can!", Fish nodded.

"And even if you join the team, you can only fly during practice and matches, you won't be able to use the broom during the week," said Professor McGonagall.

"No problem!" nodded Fish.

"And when you play Quidditch, you're not allowed to fly around, you have to follow the rules of the game," said Professor McGonagall.

"Fish is good, meow!" nodded Fish.

Seeing Fish accept everything without batting an eye, how could Professor McGonagall believe her?

So Professor McGonagall said, "I don't believe you!",

Fish, failing to fool her, fell backwards and kept rolling on the floor, "Meow! I don't care! I just want the flying broom."

Professor McGonagall stood there, frowning and looking at Fish without saying anything.

Fish, who had rolled over several times, realized something was wrong, stopped and looked at Professor McGonagall, who was scowling at him.

'Oh no, Minerva was angry,' Fish thought.

As far as Fish could remember, if Professor McGonagall hadn't yelled at him, he would have been angrier, but after a moment of worry, Fish wasn't about to admit he'd been wrong.

'It was obviously Minerva's fault for being impartial, why did I have to admit my mistake?' Fish thought.

Breathing in a puff of air, Fish merely sat on the floor, stubbornly raising his little head and staring at Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall wasn't angry at this point, she had been much more lenient in her treatment of Fish, and now she was just torn between refusing or buying a child's flying broom to make things easier for herself.

With Fish's stubborn temperament, if he continues to refuse, goodness knows what trouble it will cause.

But I did buy him a broom,

It might also encourage his bad habit, and he'd do it again every time he got angry, which wouldn't be educational, and with Fish's cunning, a child's broom probably wouldn't fool him.

Professor McGonagall hesitated for a long time, but finally decided not to spoil Fish: "You're not touching a flying broom until I think you're really going to follow the rules!"

Fish jumped up from the floor in anger, turned his head and walked out the door, saying, "Minerva is a big meanie, meow!"

But Professor McGonagall didn't try to stop him this time, she didn't think Fish was really going to "run away", after his attempt to throw a tantrum failed, he would probably realize that running away wouldn't work.

Besides, where would he find all the good food if he left Hogwarts? At best, he'd make a trip back to Hogsmeade and be back in no time.

It had to be said that Professor McGonagall had a good knowledge of Fish.

Fish had never intended to leave Hogwarts, and in the end he hadn't wanted the Flying Broom so badly, especially after becoming familiar with owls, brooms weren't even as much of a priority as trophies on the third floor.

He would have forgotten about it if it weren't for Minerva suddenly giving him a broom as a gift to Scarhead.

It wasn't like he hadn't wandered before, and while he didn't have to worry about food, it didn't compare favorably to Hogwarts, where there was food and fun, and Fish wasn't stupid enough to miss out on the important things.

But there was something to be angry about, and the fact that Minerva no longer liked him and was beginning to like Scarhead was more important than the flying broom.

So when Fish returned to the Great Dining Hall and saw Harry Potter and the rest of the Gryffindors gathered together in concern, he didn't hesitate to show hostility, "Ha-!"

"...Fish?", Harry's smile froze.

"Don't come any closer! Fish hates you!", Directing a sharp glare at the stunned Scarhead, Fish quickly walked past him and sat back down at the long table to eat the rest of his breakfast.

"Uh..." Ron looked at Fish, then looked at Harry, reached out and tapped his friend on the shoulder twice, and said sympathetically, "Looks like Fish is mad at you."

Harry scratched his head with a grimace at what had happened to him, it was neither Professor McGonagall's nor Fish's fault, and he had no choice but to accept his fate.

Hopefully, Professor McGonagall would soon be able to calm Fish down....

Harry let out a long sigh and followed Ron back to the long Gryffindor table.

Happiest of all was Malfoy, who after breakfast, with his two henchmen, stopped Harry and Ron on their way to their spell classes.

"Looks like your reputation as a savior isn't so good, Scarhead," Malfoy said.

Harry felt the sneer in Malfoy's slow voice every time he spoke, making him want to smash his fist into Malfoy's pale face.

"Get out of my way, Big Brain!" shouted Ron at Malfoy as he stormed forward.

"Oh, Weasley," Malfoy said dismissively, glaring at Ron, "What number are you? I'm struggling to remember, after all, that's the amount that would drive a pureblood family into poverty, your mother is so fertile! Is she really a witch, and not another magical creature?"

Malfoy sighed in an exaggerated tone, holding out his hands.

Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle laughed in unison, making Ron turn red instantly.

"You're going to pay for this, Malfoy!"

Enraged, Ron lunged at Malfoy with clenched fists, without even drawing his wand.

When Goyle and Crabbe reacted and tried to drag Ron away, Harry, worried for his best friend, joined the fray.

The five young wizards, none of whom used their wands, fought with fists and feet.

"Stop it, everyone!", Professor Flitwick, who was also on his way to the Charms classroom, noticed the commotion and pulled out his wand, casting subtle spells to force them to separate without hurting Harry and the others.

"Why are you two fighting?!" asked Professor Flitwick with rare sternness.

"Malfoy insulted my mother!", Ron wiped the nosebleed from his face and glared viciously at Malfoy, who was also bleeding from his nose, and he glared back at him defiantly.

"That's no way to fight!" Professor Flitwick scowled, "Fifty points from Slytherin, twenty for Gryffindor, and three days confinement for all five of you!"

With that, Professor Flitwick waved his hand, "Now, go to Madam Pomfrey to treat your wounds, no more fighting!".

The five looked at each other as they headed for the infirmary.