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Harry Potter: The Bard of Hogwarts

Many of the stories told by bards are not just hearsay; many are based on their own experiences. Ino had always thought that his future would be filled with one fantastical tale after another until one day, he received a letter delivered by an owl... _____ Note: This book is a translation. All rights to the original book belong to their respective owners Raw: https://m.qidian.com/book/1039438378/?source=pc_jump _____ If you can, consider supporting me on Patreon. I'll also post early chapters there. Here is the link: patreon.com/Dark_Peace (https://patreon.com/Dark_Peace) I'll be very grateful for your support.

Dark_Peace · 作品衍生
分數不夠
171 Chs

Chapter 32: Hello, Defense Against the Dark Arts

Half an hour later.

Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Quirrell single-handedly managed to eliminate the centuries-old feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin houses.

He successfully unified the two houses, at least on the surface.

The strong and pungent smell of garlic made it hard for the young wizards in the front rows to keep their eyes open. Combined with Quirrell's stuttering and textbook-reciting teaching style, it made everyone drowsy, leaving them with no energy to pay attention to anything else.

In the classroom, Ino sat in the middle-back row, a spot neither conspicuous nor completely hidden.

At the moment, like everyone else, his eyes were glazed over, and he looked like he could fall asleep at any moment.

The only difference was that while others were genuinely struggling with Quirrell's teaching, he was just acting the part.

He couldn't help it… Quirrell's skills were even worse than Aunt Aisha's nagging back in the fantasy world.

Time passed with Quirrell's stammering reading.

"Now… you can… go to… class dismissed… no homework," Quirrell stuttered.

As soon as Quirrell finished speaking, the classroom seemed to be injected with a stimulant. All the young wizards rushed out the door eagerly.

Ino blended into the crowd, following the others out of the classroom.

Everything was progressing well. During the class, he hadn't deliberately stared at Quirrell's turban, nor had he asked any strange questions.

Reflecting on it, he wondered if he had again become a bit too self-assured, like during Charms class.

It was amusing to think about it; he wasn't Harry, so how could he attract everyone's attention?

Besides… whether it was Voldemort or Quirrell, they were both focused on the Philosopher's Stone. They didn't have time to worry about unrelated matters.

Meanwhile.

After leaving the classroom.

Since it was still early, Ino wandered leisurely through the school corridors.

Like a tourist, he stopped at every window he passed, gazing out at the castle in the distance.

Perhaps having just finished a tense performance, he felt even more that this carefree school life was incredibly precious.

"Please… wait… a moment!"

The stuttering voice suddenly came from behind, startling him into almost a defensive stance, his hand instinctively reaching for his inner pocket.

He quickly realized that he was being overly cautious in the busy daytime corridor.

"Phew~ Why were you running so fast? I haven't seen you in the library these past few days. Did something happen?"

The voice drew closer, and Ino finally recognized that it had nothing to do with Quirrell.

Standing in front of him was a small brown-haired girl with bright eyes and a concerned expression.

Honestly, this scene made Ino feel quite touched.

To be fair, aside from the fantasy world, Hermione was the first person to genuinely show concern for him without any ulterior motives.

In the past, whether at the orphanage or doing fortune-telling outside the primary school, all the greetings, attention, and conversations he received were always driven by some purpose.

But now, Hermione's sincere concern seemed especially precious.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. Don't zone out!" Hermione waved her white, tender hand in front of Ino's eyes.

"I'm fine, nothing happened. I haven't been to the library these days because I've been organizing the knowledge I've already acquired. After all, excessive intake can make one a slave to knowledge."

"Incredible, I can't believe I heard a Platonic sentiment. I really can't understand how you ended up in Slytherin."

Hermione's words were full of regret.

"Hahaha, I remember I answered a similar question from you in the side hall before the sorting…"

Before Ino could finish, Hermione lifted her head, gazing at the sky at a 45-degree angle, and began mimicking Ino's tone from that time:

"'I don't know! However they sort me, I don't care'… Honestly! Do you know, your expression was so annoying back then."

"Really? But I genuinely don't care about the sorting!"

Ino turned around, looking seriously into Hermione's eyes as he spoke.

After a few seconds of eye contact, Hermione lowered her head, muttering quietly.

"Speak up! I can't hear you at all."

The daytime corridor was always full of passing young wizards, making it impossible for him to hear what Hermione was saying.

"It's nothing! I was wondering, can I still come to you for fortune-telling in the future? Don't worry, I'll pay. I don't have many Galleons, but I've saved some pounds."

Hermione asked nonchalantly.

Of course, if you ignored the tightly clenched fists under her robe and the restless kicking feet, you might really believe she didn't care.

However, Ino didn't notice Hermione's little gestures and responded casually:

"Of course! I'd be very happy to have your business. After all, there's no reason to refuse money that comes to you."

"That's good! If I can't find you, I'll write to you via the owlery." Hermione said happily.

The owlery…

Honestly, hearing Hermione's answer made Ino feel a bit uneasy.

Although Hogwarts had four houses with long-standing rivalries, students wouldn't ignore each other simply because they were in different houses.

Inter-house friendships were common, and relationships weren't limited to just opposite genders.

However, when Hermione mentioned the owlery, he realized there was a problem.

It had only been a short time since school started, and it seemed like Hermione was already being isolated in Gryffindor, to the extent that she couldn't even find someone to pass a message for her.

The castle might seem small, but its actual area was quite large. Combined with the labyrinthine staircases, finding someone without mobile communication could be really difficult.

Thus, passing messages between students had become a shared tradition.

Even the most contentious Gryffindors and Slytherins rarely refused to help pass a message.

Because of this, Ino guessed how bad Hermione's situation in Gryffindor must be.

No one in the first-year Gryffindors had told her about the tradition of passing messages between houses.

Thinking of this, Ino felt a pang of sympathy and said:

"No need to spend 2 Knuts on sending a letter. If you can't find me, leave a note in the library and leave it with Madam Pince. Mention my name, and she'll help."

Speaking of Madam Pince, from the first day of school, he had spent considerable effort getting close to her.

If this were a game, it would be like maxing out her affection level. So leaving a note or passing a message was a trivial matter.

"You managed to convince Madam Pince to help!"

Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Because I'm a good student and never break school rules." Ino stated matter-of-factly.

As for following school rules, from the beginning of the term until now, he hadn't lost a single point. In fact, he had earned quite a few points here and there.

Talking about following school rules seemed to hit Hermione's sweet spot.

The two of them continued walking back and forth in the corridor, chatting until it was nearly noon, and Ino finally used lunchtime as an excuse to end the conversation.

He really had no choice; Hermione felt like someone who had been stranded on a desert island for years and suddenly found a companion, having endless things to talk about.

"Next time, I'll definitely suggest meeting in the library."

Ino couldn't help but rub his sore calves.

They had been walking and talking from 10 in the morning until lunchtime.

His legs were sore, yet Hermione seemed perfectly fine, even slightly skipping as she left… It was hard to understand.