bacchusnovels Chapter 543 Ron Has Gone Mad
Chapter 543 Ron Has Gone Mad
Chapter 539 Ron Has Gone Mad
A sense of foreboding suddenly welled up in both of their hearts.
"Molly asked me to persuade you to stop doing these unnecessary things. Even though she knows she has no right to ask you to do this, she still hopes you can remember that everything she does is for your own good. She originally wanted to write a letter, but she was afraid that the owl would be intercepted and implicate you, so she could only ask me to deliver the message—she has to work tonight and can't come in person."
"What shift are you on?" Ron asked hurriedly.
"Don't worry, it's just about the Order of the Phoenix," Sirius reassured her. "I was just a messenger. Remember to tell her I've delivered the message, because I sense she's still a little wary of me."
Silence fell again.
Crookshank meowed, trying to scratch Sirius's head with his claws, while Ron focused on picking at a small hole in the carpet.
"So, you don't want me to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Me? Of course not!"
Sirius Black refuted Harry's question without hesitation.
"Personally, I think this is a brilliant idea. Schools exist to impart knowledge, and if schools cannot meet students' learning needs, it is only natural for students to seek additional help."
"Whose words are these?" Hermione suddenly asked.
"Arthur said it." Sirius scratched his head sheepishly. "Arthur and Molly even had a fight about it at the Order of the Phoenix, and I happened to overhear some of it."
"So, you support us doing this?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Of course." Sirius nodded.
"What if we get fired?" Hermione suddenly asked.
"This was all your idea!" Harry glared at her.
"I know—" Hermione shrugged awkwardly, "I just wanted to hear Sirius's thoughts."
"I'd rather be expelled than waste my time at school learning nothing," Sirius Black offered his answer.
However, as soon as he said that, Sirius's expression suddenly became very tense.
"What's wrong?" Ron asked.
A hand emerged from the fire, adorned with ugly old-fashioned rings, as if trying to grasp something.
Umbridge's hand.
Only she would wear such flashy and impractical rings.
The three children turned pale with fright, but Hermione was the first to react, using a spell to conjure a bucket of water and extinguish the fire.
"What just happened?"
"have no idea."
"It's time to go to sleep."
"Good night."
'
'
The three boys returned to their respective dorm rooms as if nothing had happened.
What? The fireplace in the common room isn't burning? What's it to them?
Harry's letter was intercepted.
Based on what happened last night, the three little ones came to this conclusion.
This is bad news, but there is also good news.
"The Quidditch team application has been approved!" Angelina excitedly ran towards the group.
"How did you do that?" Ron was very surprised.
"I went to Professor McGonagall, and Professor McGonagall probably went to Dumbledore. In any case, Umbridge had no choice but to approve the Quidditch team's request to rebuild."
Upon hearing Dumbledore's name, the three had a bad feeling.
Although the Gryffindor Quidditch team will participate in this season's competition, it's easy to imagine the kind of targeted tactics they'll face from Umbridge. But then again—
Does not mentioning Dumbledore's name prevent them from being targeted?
From this perspective, it doesn't seem like a big deal.
"That's awesome!" Harry chimed in.
Angelina announced this to Harry and Ron with delight.
"We have three weeks until our first game of the season, so we need to get back to training quickly, starting today—tonight at 7 p.m., I'll be waiting for you at Quidditch Stadium—"
After saying that, she left in a flash.
We also need to tell the rest of the team this news, so we don't have time to stay here any longer.
Harry looked out the window.
Today isn't exactly a good day for Quidditch practice.
It's raining outside, and the sky is overcast.
"I hope it clears up tonight—" Harry muttered, then looked at Hermione. "What's wrong?"
"I'm wondering how to tell Professor Tonks about this," Hermione said quietly.
She hasn't had a proper talk with Tonks since Umbridge issued the ban.
This also means—
She had no idea what Tonks was thinking.
If the other party is influenced by Umbridge and rejects the proposal, then whatever they do now will ultimately be futile and ineffective.
Will Professor Tonks agree?
Hermione was deeply worried about this.
In the afternoon, after a spells class.
Hermione still arrived at Tonks' office door.
"Professor, I want to say—"
'
"You're here for Defense Against the Dark Arts training, right?"
As soon as Hermione entered, Tonks guessed why she had come.
"Don't worry, I can still help you if you need it."
"6
Hermione couldn't hear what was said after that. Before coming here, she hadn't expected Tonks to be so agreeable.
That's not surprising, really.
Tonks is a straightforward person at work.
But—just thinking about this strange love triangle, a feeling of guilt instantly welled up in my heart.
"Thank you, Professor Tonks, I mean..."
"This is my duty."
Tonks waved his hand, gesturing for Hermione to sit down and talk.
"By the way, Miss Granger, there's a question I've been wanting to ask you."
"What?"
Hermione's heart tightened.
"To be more precise, there are two questions. What gift do you want for Christmas? And—what is your opinion of Professor Phillips?"
"
'
As evening fell, the weather did not improve as Ron and Harry had hoped.
It's just a few steps from the castle to the Quidditch pitch.
The two of them were soaked to the bone, looking exactly like two drowned chickens bloated from being submerged in water.
The sky was overcast, and large raindrops kept falling.
Only after entering the locker room did the two truly breathe a sigh of relief, as the Weasley twins were already sitting there besides them.
"But I bet she'll find out—"
"Know what?"
Ron hastily wiped his face with a towel hanging on the shelf, then asked his two older brothers.
"What are you talking about?"
"We were talking about how to avoid this damn training. To be honest, I kind of regret coming back to school this semester."
"Is there a way?" Harry looked up at the two of them, full of anticipation.
"I wish I hadn't shown her my shopping list yesterday."
George sighed regretfully, then continued.
"To sell it to her, I specifically explained all the product's functions, effects, and usage details to her in great detail. If she uses those things, she'll definitely remember it."
"Sigh." The four people in the locker room groaned in unison.
The sound of rain accompanied them, relentlessly pounding on the roof, as if determined to break it down.
"That's right."
Fred's exclamation awakened the "hope" within the three of them, and they looked at him expectantly.
"What's wrong?"
"Isn't our fever-reducing candy not on that product list?"
George also remembered this, but his expression instantly darkened.
"The reason it's not on the product list is because we haven't developed an antidote yet—not because we don't want to sell it."
"How's the result?"
Ron didn't care about any of that, as long as he wasn't made to train stupidly in the rain for hours, he'd do anything—
Oh no, he can do anything except find Filch, Snape, and Umbridge.
Umbridge probably never imagined that in less than half a semester, he would receive the same treatment as Filch and Snape, two figures who had spent over a decade building their "infamous" reputations.
If being annoying is a skill, then she is certainly gifted.
"It's alright." Fred clicked his tongue. "After eating it, your body temperature will rise instantly."
"Not only that. Some large abscesses will also appear," George added.
"A big boil? That's alright!" Ron said.
"They grow in places that others can't see and that they absolutely don't want to show to others," George added ominously.
Seeing the gloomy faces of his two older brothers, Ron wanted to train again.
What could have caused the two older brothers to suffer a setback was probably not something that could be remedied by a single Quidditch training session.
He should just stick to training.
At that moment, Angelina walked in and announced loudly.
"Alright, everyone, listen to me."
"I know the weather isn't ideal today, but that's Quidditch, and that's what we need to overcome."
"Does this mean that in a real competition, we should just give up because of bad weather? Should we tell our opponents, 'The weather's bad, let's reschedule'?"
You said it yourself, it's a real match.
Ron thought to himself.
"Therefore, we'd better get used to this kind of weather in advance."
At the command, everyone put on special waterproof goggles that had been treated with a spell.
It's similar to the goggles used for diving.
You don't need to wear glasses if you have them; you just need to apply a "waterproof and moisture-proof" spell to them.
This is to prevent rainwater from hitting the eyes and obstructing vision.
but-
Wearing these goggles is actually not very effective.
First, it's uncomfortable; I can't adjust the tightness, it feels a bit constricting.
Secondly, the view is still blocked, only now it's not rain but goggles instead.
Third, visibility is already very low in severe weather.
The group tucked their wands into their robes, picked up their brooms, and followed Angelina toward the Quidditch pitch.
The fourth point was then discovered – the stadium had become muddy due to the rain.
However, this is not a serious matter.
Quidditch isn't football; they fly in the air and have little to do with the ground.
"Okay, listen to my whistle!" Angelina shouted.
With a whistle, everyone was lifted into the air.
But soon—
They discovered a surprising fact.
That is—the wind is not very friendly to some people who are thin, and it always tries to blow their brooms away.
Just watching the moving ball is difficult enough, let alone searching for the Golden Snitch in this vast darkness. To put it bluntly—whether they can even see each other is a question mark.
An hour and a half later, Angelina called it a day.
He led a group of drenched players, who looked like they had just suffered a defeat and were full of complaints, back to the locker room.
On the way, she kept trying to say something to boost morale.
For example, "This training session was very effective," "We will gain something from the next match" —
However, hardly anyone paid any attention to her.
The Weasley twins, in particular, walked with stiff legs, their gait unsteady, resembling bowlegs.
"These few of mine might break," Fred said in a muffled voice.
"I didn't break," George muttered through gritted teeth, "but it's terribly swollen—it looks like it's gotten even bigger—"
"Ouch!" Harry suddenly exclaimed.
He suddenly pressed the towel to his face, his eyes tightly shut in pain.
The scar on my forehead started burning—it hadn't hurt this badly in months.
"What's wrong?" Several voices rang out at the same time.
Harry removed the towel, and his vision went blurry.
"It's nothing," he mumbled. "I—I accidentally touched my eye, it's nothing."
As he spoke, he winked at Ron.
While the other team members put on their cloaks, pulled down their hats, and filed out, he and Ron stayed behind.
"What happened? Is it your scar?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded.
"But----"
Ron, looking puzzled, walked to the window and peered out through the rain curtain.
"He—he couldn't possibly be very close to us right now, could he?"
"Yes."
Harry said in a low voice, plopping down on the bench and rubbing his burning forehead.
"He may be thousands of miles away. But I feel pain because—he is angry."
"So, you saw him again?" Ron asked.
Harry sat there quietly, his gaze lowered, staring at his toes, letting his thoughts and memories slowly relax amidst the lingering pain.
A chaotic mix of images and a cacophony of sounds—
"There's something he wants to do, but he's not doing it fast enough."
"But—how did you know?" Ron asked, puzzled.
Before Harry could say anything, he slapped his thigh and made a gesture of admiration.
"It seems you might be even more capable than Professor Terry Laurie."
"Professor Trelawney was just making a prediction, but you can even figure out that guy's mood and what he wants to do—maybe you're the real prophet."
These words left Harry speechless. But Ron kept going, getting more and more excited as he spoke.
"Didn't Trelawney say she was going to resign a while ago?"
"You could easily replace her with this talent; the school is short of a divination professor after she leaves."
"Then you will become the first person to become a professor while still in school."
"In some ways, he's even better than Professor Phillips."
"You can teach classes and be a professor at the same time. As for how to do it—just have Dumbledore write you a letter of appointment, right? He's so familiar with us anyway. If that doesn't work, you can follow Professor Phillips's path, like Umbridge, and have the Ministry of Magic assign you a special position."
"We'll probably be all high and mighty when you become a professor."
"You can learn from Snape and try every trick in the book to deduct points from Slytherin students, and you can also—"
'
"
Ron was still going on and on about his "grand plans".
But Harry simply watched Ron, who was spitting as he spoke, with only one thought in his mind:
He must have stolen George and Fred's fever candy and gotten delirious, or maybe the rain just now messed up his brain.
in other words.
Ron has gone mad.