novelcrest Chapter 339 The Price of Saving Buckbeak
Chapter 339 The Price of Saving Buckbeak
Chapter 339 The Price of Saving Buckbeak
Ron waved his hand impatiently. "Who cares about that? This is the best gift Harry has ever received! Harry, let me try this broom, okay?"
"I don't think anyone should ride it right now!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, her voice filled with anxiety.
Her reaction stunned both Harry and Ron.
"What do you think Harry's going to do with it, sweep the floor?" Ron said sarcastically.
Just then, Sofia walked in from outside, breaking the atmosphere.
She held a thick book in her hand, her eyes scanning the room with curiosity before stopping at Harry's Firebolt.
"Wow, Harry, who gave you this?" Sophia asked, her face showing surprise, clearly attracted by the exquisite craftsmanship of the broom.
"We don't know either," Harry said helplessly. "It didn't come with any cards."
Sophia frowned slightly. "A gift without a card? That's a bit odd, Hermione, what do you think?"
Hermione nodded wearily, her eyes still filled with worry.
Sofia gently patted her shoulder and whispered, "Don't worry, maybe it's just some kind anonymous person. Let's find out first."
Just as everyone was deep in thought, Crookshanks suddenly jumped off Hermione's arms and headed straight for Ron. Ron yelled and dodged, but Crookshanks had already pounced on him, and Scabbers also escaped from Ron's pocket.
The room erupted into chaos. Ron kicked over Harry's trunk, and Sophia tried to regain control, but Crookshanks were clearly more agile than she had imagined. Of course, it was also possible that Sophia had deliberately let them win.
Just then, Crookshan's fur stood on end, and the room was filled with sharp, faint cries.
The miniature peephole had fallen out of Uncle Vernon's old stocking and was spinning and glowing on the floor.
"I forgot about this!" Harry bent down to pick up the viewing mirror, thinking to himself, "I'll never wear these socks again, if I can find a way."
The spy scope spun in his palm, whistling, while Crookshan hissed and spit at it.
"You might as well take this cat with you, Hermione," Ron said exasperatedly, sitting on Harry's bed and stroking his toes. "Couldn't you lock it up?"
At this moment, Hermione slowly walked out of the room, Crookshanks' yellow eyes still staring fiercely at Ron.
Harry stuffed the spyglass back into his stocking and then threw it back into the box.
Only Ron's muffled groans of pain and roars remained in the room, while Scabbers curled up in Ron's palm.
Since Harry saw Scabbers emerge from Ron's pocket, he has been surprised and displeased to find that the once-fat Scabbers is now skin and bones; Scabbers' fur also seems to be falling out in patches.
"It doesn't look good, does it?" Harry asked.
"It's just overreacting!" Ron retorted. "If that stupid big furry ball hadn't bothered it, it would be fine!"
However, Harry recalled the woman at the Magic Zoo mentioning that mice only live for three years, and couldn't help but think that unless Scabbers possessed some kind of magical ability that had never been revealed before, it was very likely that it was nearing the end of its life.
Despite Ron’s frequent complaints that Scabbers was both annoying and useless, Harry was convinced that Ron would be very sad if Scabbers died.
That morning, the Christmas atmosphere was unusually subdued in the Gryffindor common room.
Hermione locked Crookshank in her dorm room. Her previously strange expression returned to normal—she was extremely angry about Ron's attempt to kick Crookshank, so she kept a cold face and chatted casually with Sophia about the paper assignment.
Meanwhile, Ron was furious at Crookshan's repeated attempts to capture Scabbers.
Harry tried to mediate between the two, but it was clearly futile, so he gave up and focused on looking at his firebolt.
He had brought the precious broom to the common room, which put him in a great mood.
But for some reason, this displeased Hermione. Although she didn't say it outright, her gloomy eyes revealed her dissatisfaction with the broom, as if it had offended her cat.
At lunchtime, the three of them went to the hall and found that all the long tables had been moved to the wall, leaving only one long table in the center that could seat more than a dozen people.
Dumbledore and several professors, including Sean and Tonks, were already there, and even the doorman Filch was there.
Filch changed out of his worn-out brown coat today and put on an old and outdated tuxedo.
Besides the professors, there were only a few students left: a very nervous first-year student, a gloomy-faced sixth-year Slytherin student, and Luna, Penelope, and Daphne, whose presence added a different atmosphere to the small gathering.
When Hermione and Daphne looked at each other, Hermione blushed, unconsciously recalling what had happened the night before she left. She had to admit that what the other person had said...
"So, are you willing to pay a price to save Buckbeak?" The voice from behind made Hermione stop abruptly.
As those words fell, something unsettling seemed to permeate the air.
She slowly turned her head, her gaze fixed on Sean, her eyes filled with disbelief and confusion.
Is this the professor she respects from the bottom of her heart?
His tone seemed to have become unfamiliar and cold.
"What price?" Hermione's voice trembled slightly.
Sean lowered his eyes slightly, his expression remaining calm, but that subtle change made Hermione even more alert.
"The price—" he paused, "everything has a price, doesn't it?"
"No one wants to help another person for no reason."
There's no such thing as a free lunch.
"Isn't it fair that you get what you pay for, Hermione?"
Listening to Sean's words, Hermione couldn't help but connect them with what Daphne had just said.
In other words, it's hard not to try to find a connection between the two without thinking.
Because the two are so similar.
If that's the case, then translating Professor Phillips's implied meaning into words like... asking her to exchange some "special services" for Buckbeak's survival?
For a moment, Hermione genuinely considered the feasibility of such a thing.
But the next second, she came to her senses and threw this absurd idea to the back of her mind, and even started to condemn herself in her heart.
"I don't understand, Professor," she said, trying to sound calm.
Upon hearing Hermione's answer, Sean raised his head, his face once again displaying that familiar, radiant smile that could charm countless young girls and win the Most Charming Smile Award from Wizarding Weekly.
For some reason, Hermione felt even more uneasy.
"Miss Granger, I mean one—"
"The legal process is not that simple. If we are to fight Bakbik's execution, we may need to cross some lines, which requires tremendous courage and determination."
Are you willing to take on more responsibility for this?
Hearing Sean's "real message," Hermione secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
As expected, I was overthinking it.
Even so, this still differed somewhat from Hermione's initial thoughts, because Sean's words seemed to imply some shady methods, exceeding what she originally considered "legal means."
She had assumed that Sean would help Buckbeak get a fair trial through legitimate means, but now she suddenly realized that things might not be that simple.
Sean's words still gave this little witch, who had never entered society and always regarded the content of books as dogma, a shock.
She thought for a moment, carefully considering her words, and then a troubled expression appeared on her face. "I am willing to put in the effort, even face difficulties, but if the price is to violate the principles and laws that we should have as wizards, I'm afraid I cannot accept it."
Sean's gaze lingered on her face for a moment, then a smile appeared on his face, a smile that made Hermes feel inexplicably uneasy.
"You're very clever, Miss Granger," he said softly, "but reality is sometimes much more complicated than the rules in textbooks. You want to save Buckbeak, and I can help you, but it may require you to break some rules that you thought were inviolable."
Can you accept this?
"Professor," Hermione suddenly looked up, meeting his eyes in a firm voice, "if saving Buckbeak comes at the cost of violating the principles I've always upheld, then I'd rather continue searching for other ways."
"I believe in the power of justice and the law, rather than breaking the rules to achieve a result."
As soon as she finished speaking, an invisible tension filled the air.
Sean's smile gradually faded, replaced by a silent solemnity.
He looked at her, as if gauging her resolve and bottom line.
"Very good." He finally spoke, his voice regaining its calm. "You've made your choice, Miss Granger. We'll go through the proper channels, and I'll do my best to help you, but you must understand that it will be very difficult, and may not even turn out the way you want."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Although she was still uneasy inside, she was proud of her choice.
Justice is sometimes hard to come by, but she is willing to pay the price for it—as long as it does not violate her bottom line as a wizard and a human.
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said softly.
"We'll do our best." Sean nodded slightly. "If possible, this will be my Christmas present to you."
After saying that, he turned and walked forward, his figure appearing tall and silent in the moonlight.
Is this the price to pay...?
"Merry Christmas, Professor," she murmured to herself.
"Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore said cheerfully as the four children approached the table. "There aren't many people, so it would be a bit silly to use the long tables from each house—come on, sit down!"
The four children sat side by side at one end of the table. Hermione deliberately sat further away from Sean and Tonks, which meant that her seat was next to Penelope.
Penelope gave her a meaningful look, but Hermione pretended not to notice.
"A firecracker, please!" Dumbledore said enthusiastically, handing Snape a large silver firecracker. Snape looked extremely reluctant, but he took the firecracker anyway, pulled the trigger gently, and with a "bang," the firecracker exploded like a gunshot.
When it opened up, a topped witch's hat was revealed, decorated with a specimen of a mountain eagle.
Harry couldn't help but recall the scene where Boggart transformed into Snape, and exchanged a knowing glance with Ron.
Both of them grinned.
Snape's face darkened, and he handed the hat to Dumbledore, who happily took off his own wizard's hat and put on the new one.
"Come on, eat!" Dumbledore said with a smile to everyone at the table.
Just as Hermione was putting cheese on her plate, the doors to the Great Hall suddenly opened.
In that instant, she felt a pair of hands silently cover her thighs. She was slightly startled and quickly glanced to both sides.
Sitting on the left is Penelope, whom I don't know well, while on the right is Sofia.
Hermione quickly deduced who the person who made the move was—without a doubt, it was Penelope.
It wasn't because she trusted Sofia enough to think Sofia wouldn't be so bored, but because Sofia was busy with both hands at the moment, holding a juice in one hand and bringing a large piece of beef to her mouth with the other, clearly having no time to pay attention to anything else.
Hermione looked down and, sure enough, the owner of those hands was Penelope, who was standing next to her.
She was momentarily stunned, unsure how to respond to this sudden action.
Just as Hermione was about to ask a question, Penelope gently patted her thigh three times in a row. Then, she casually withdrew her hand and continued to eat the roast chicken on her plate as if nothing had happened.
Hermione was speechless for a moment, her mind filled with doubt, but Penelope's actions were so natural that she couldn't tell whether it was a prank or some kind of hint.
three times.
Does it have any special meaning?
At the entrance to the auditorium, Professor Trelawney walked in, as if she were gliding in on wheels.
To celebrate Christmas, she wore a green robe decorated with small metallic sequins, making her look more like a giant, sparkling dragonfly.
"Sybil, it's a pleasure to see you!" Dumbledore stood up to greet her.
"Headmaster, I've been looking at the crystal ball," Trelawney said in her muffled, distant voice. "To my surprise, I saw myself abandoning my solitary meal to join your gathering. Who am I to resist the call of fate? I immediately descended from the tower to humbly apologize for my lateness—."
"Of course, of course," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Let me get you a chair—"
Dumbledore waved his wand gently, and a chair slid down from mid-air, spinning for a few seconds before landing between Snape and Professor McGonagall.
However, Trelawney did not sit down immediately. Instead, she glanced at everyone at the table and noticed that she was sitting opposite Harry. She hesitated for a moment.
Professor McGonagall frowned impatiently and urged, "Sybil, sit down, the turkey is getting cold."
Trelawney paused for a moment, then finally sat down in the chair, looking tense, her eyes closed and her lips tightly pressed together, as if she were ready to face some kind of disaster at any moment.
Professor McGonagall calmly reached for a large spoon, filled it with tripe, and asked, "Would you like some tripe, Sybil?"
Trelawney ignored her, opened her eyes, looked around, and suddenly asked, "Where is our dear Professor Lupin?"