Hogwarts: Bloodline Legend

Chapter 965: Chapter 290: Little Wizard Boiled Into a Magic Potion? (Part 2)

"No way! This one doesn’t count!"

Ron quickly retorted.

Neville reluctantly agreed to restart the game.

They’re all just kids who can eat.

The two of them were playing enthusiastically, and just as their meal was ending, Neville suddenly noticed something he hadn’t before—Hermione Granger was missing.

"Strange, where’s Hermione?"

Neville glanced around, still didn’t spot Hermione, so he couldn’t help but frown and ask.

"Oh, she’s definitely stayed up reading again." Ron shrugged indifferently, "She’ll rush into the Spell Class later, with a pile of notes she prepared."

That indeed sounds like something Hermione would do.

However.

"But she’s never been late, more punctual than that rooster next door,"

Neville muttered quietly.

"Breakfast isn’t class time, Hermione only shows up more punctually than Hogwarts’ clock when there’s a class," Ron said between taking a big bite of his sausage.

The corner of his mouth was smeared with sauce.

His words sounded reasonable to Ron.

The two continued eating, then after finishing, they headed to class. However, when the first-year students’ Spell Class began, Hermione still hadn’t shown up in the classroom.

The Spell Class was located on the third floor of the castle.

Ron and Neville rushed into the classroom, panting, almost late. Just as they sat down, Professor Flitwick stood on a stack of books, clapping his hands with a smile.

"Alright, students, take out your wands, let’s review what we covered last time." Professor Flitwick could be forgiving to those who arrived just in time.

Sunshine streamed through the windows, illuminating the feathers floating in mid-air—the task today was to practice the Wingardium Leviosa spell.

Students needed to keep the feathers floating steadily.

Ron and Neville naturally made slow progress.

Looking around.

Seeking external brain help, Neville was the first to notice Hermione was absent.

"Huh? That’s impossible, Hermione wouldn’t miss any class. Just a few days ago, she didn’t even come late to Transformation Class with a high fever."

Reminded by this, Ron suddenly realized something was wrong.

"No one can have a fever of over ninety degrees."

Neville frowned too: "But this is indeed strange. Even if Hermione were sick, she’d crawl to class. She doesn’t even know how to spell ’excuse’!"

The two unanimously agreed that it was impossible for Hermione to miss Magic Class.

Unpleasant thoughts grew.

An apprehensive Neville gulped.

"Maybe... she really overslept?"

This was his way of deceiving himself.

Because he didn’t dare consider other possibilities.

Ron was also very hesitant.

"Impossible, absolutely impossible, perhaps..." His tone suddenly took on a bit of horror, a noticeable pause filled with a nuance of terrifying suspicion.

Neville scratched his head.

"Could it be that Snape caught her for detention? Just because she pointed out Snape’s double standards in Magic Potion Class before?" That guess was reasonable enough.

"It’s possible, considering how petty we all know Snape can be." Ron nodded at first, though at this time, he began activating his imagination again.

"However, I think there’s another scenario that might have occurred."

He lowered his voice and spoke mysteriously.

Neville was stunned.

"You mean Hermione... was eaten by Snape!?"

Neville’s face turned white in an instant.

His imagination was big enough to reach this.

"What are you talking about! Snape may be scary, but not to that extent. Dumbledore is always around; he wouldn’t allow Snape to eat people randomly."

Ron widened his eyes.

The words were extremely exaggerated.

The kind of exaggeration that if Snape heard, he’d throw Ron into the Black Lake overnight.

"Uh."

Neville blinked.

Ron, leaning towards him, took a deep breath, speaking in a sinister tone: "Perhaps both Hermione and Snape were eaten by a creature in the Forbidden Forest."

Ron felt more convinced by his speculation the more he thought about it.

"You heard it last night too, that sound, that terrifying sound." Ron recalled the previous night’s experience vividly, shivering at the memory.

Neville naturally shivered too, almost sliding off his chair.

"Could it be..."

Neville thought that creature’s sound could only come from something sinister. To say it was a Dragon’s Roar understated it; it was even scarier and perhaps Hermione and Snape were already digested.

The more he thought.

The more Neville trembled.

And just as Ron was about to say something more.

"Mr. Longbottom! Mr. Weasley!" Professor Flitwick’s shrill voice suddenly interrupted their whispering. Instantly, the entire classroom full of little wizards went silent.

All eyes were focused on them.

"Are you two planning to hold a secret meeting in my class?" Professor Flitwick stood atop the stack of books, hands on hips, looking utterly speechless.

"If your whispering gets any closer, you’ll kiss!" Professor Flitwick squinted, his tone holding a hint of jest.

The classroom erupted in hearty laughter.

Someone even whistled.

Ron and Neville abruptly split apart, faces flushed red.

"Of course not!"

Neville quickly shrank in the opposite direction, trying to distance himself from Ron. Ron did the same, considering this was England, where misunderstandings could last a lifetime.

Ron didn’t want to gamble.

Neville didn’t either.

"Pro-Professor! We were just discussing—something." Ron stammered in an attempt to defend himself, still hoping for a girl in the house to like him someday.

"We were discussing where Hermione went!"

Neville quickly added.

Upon hearing that.

Professor Flitwick raised an eyebrow: "Miss Granger? Oh, Professor McGonagall mentioned this morning that she’s been assigned to assist Professor Snape with a special Magic Potion research."

"She will be missing my class today."

The professor’s words were quite ordinary.

Upon hearing them.

Ron and Neville exchanged looks, their expressions shifting from awkward to shocked.

"Two young boys with a rivalry, alright, back to practice." Professor Flitwick waved his hand and walked back to the podium, leaving the pair in even deeper embarrassment among the laughter.

Laughter again filled the classroom, but Ron and Neville had no mind to care. Their thoughts were occupied with one question—why would Hermione be helping Snape with Magic Potion brewing?

Waiting until class was over.

"Hermione must have been brewed into a Magic Potion by Snape!"

Ron declared with conviction, his bold speculation breaking all norms. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes gleaming with "genius" rationale.

At least that’s what he thought.

"..."

Neville didn’t want to comment.

He might not be very smart, but even he realized Ron’s speculation was explosive, even if it involved a Dark Wizard, let alone here at Hogwarts.

"Bu-but Professor Flitwick said Hermione is helping Snape with the Magic Potion research." Neville knew Ron liked to play hero, but he didn’t think Ron would succeed this time.

First of all, Snape wouldn’t use little wizards to brew Magic Potions.

However.

Such a simple truth.

Ron seemed ensnared by his own thoughts, unable to understand.

"Hermione might be soaking in some Crucible now; she might not be dead yet, holding her breath, waiting for us to figure it all out and rescue her."

Ron grew more agitated.

"Every minute we waste, she could be partly made into a potion." Neville was scared by such a frightening thought, his legs nearly giving out, but Ron charged like a mad bull, dragging him toward the Potion Classroom.

"I know Snape will have a class soon!"

Ron had sneakily peeked at a second-year girl’s class schedule.

And just like that.

Speak of the devil and he appears. As they reached the Potion Classroom door, panting, they ran into Snape carrying a stack of textbooks, his sallow face showing slight impatience.

Ron inhaled deeply, blocking Snape’s path with a step.

"Hand over Hermione!"

He attempted to draw his magic wand, but it dropped to the ground. This left Ron slightly panicked while Snape, on the other side, took a half-step backward, looking more startled.

"What Hermione?"

Snape’s expression turned bizarre.

His tone carried a hint of unease.

His eyes began to avoid theirs instinctively.