Chapitre 360: 0359 Results of Training
The overwhelming sense of disappointment and dejection weighed heavily upon Harry's shoulders. He had never imagined that had never imagined things would turn out so badly.
Just the previous Saturday, Sirius had told him at the Three Broomsticks that he would take him away from the Dursleys during the summer holidays. This had made him very happy and excited, as he had longed to leave the Dursleys for years, and now, that dream was finally about to come true. But unexpectedly, just a few days later, Sirius changed his mind.
After Sirius come out of Professor Watson's office that day, he informed Harry of his new decision.
He believed it would be better for Harry to remain at the Muggle residence after all, as they were his only living blood relatives. While Sirius had vowed to improve Harry's circumstances through a frank dialogue with the Dursleys, the sudden reversal had left Harry feeling utterly betrayed and helpless.
Harry couldn't help but connect Sirius's change of heart with Professor Watson and Professor Dumbledore.
After all, the previous week at the Three Broomsticks when Sirius had brought up the idea, Professor Watson had subtly expressed his disapproval.
But this was simply ridiculous. Who gave them the right to make decisions on his behalf?
For several consecutive days, Harry had been in a bad mood during Professor Watson's physical education classes, even seriously considering skipping them altogether.
"I advise you to calm down, Harry—"
After no longer using the Time-Turner, Hermione's schedule had become much more manageable. However, she still had to attend several more classes than the others, and to save time, she had now learned to walk while reading books and completing some simpler assignments.
On an evening when they needed to attend the physical education class, a group of Gryffindors made their way to the room filled with suits of armor. As Harry angrily expressed his thoughts, Hermione briefly looked up from 'A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi,' saying rationally:
"Think about Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin."
Pansy Parkinson was a very annoying girl from Slytherin. Of course, hardly anyone who mingled with Malfoy wasn't unpleasant.
Generally, the young wizards from Slytherin tended to support Professor Watson because they considered him one of their own. And, the gradually well-known Professor Watson over the past year or two had undoubtedly made the Slytherin students extraordinarily proud. Harry had heard Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff say that the Slytherins were eagerly awaiting Dumbledore's departure, as they believed the next Headmaster of Hogwarts would definitely be Professor Watson.
Professor Watson's demeanor often made one forget that he is from Slytherin, Harry himself didn't object this—if, in the future, Dumbledore did have no energy as he grows older, and Professor Watson took over as Headmaster. However, the thought of these annoying stinky snakes in Slytherin already harboring such intentions was very disgusting to him.
Perhaps unable to tolerate the torment of Dungbombs any longer, Pansy Parkinson dared to skip class, even after Professor Watson had made it clear that the time to drop the course had passed.
And Professor Watson was clearly a man who wouldn't tolerate any insolence. After their training ended, he marched straight into the Slytherin common room and ordered the female prefect of Slytherin to drag Pansy out of the dormitory, then trained her alone for two hours.
Rumor had it that Pansy spent that night in the hospital wing.
Thinking about her fate, Harry shuddered a few times, dismissing his rebellious thoughts.
Now, Professor Watson had set new requirements for his physical education class.
He recorded the distance each person could advance under the Dungbomb's attacks and demanded progress in every class compared to the last, even if the improvement was only by an inch. Otherwise, he would make you keep practicing without letting you return to the dormitory to sleep.
And Harry's experience in Potions class was another major reason for his bad mood.
Harry didn't know what happened in Professor Watson's office that day, but Snape was clearly taking revenge, increasingly tormenting Harry during Potions lessons. And because all of Harry's classwork received zero marks, the length of his Potions essays had to be at least one-third longer than the other students's!
This time, it wasn't Sirius who helped Harry out of his predicament, but Professor McGonagall, as she could no longer tolerate the abnormal rate at which the gems representing points were depleting from the Gryffindor hourglass.
The advent of summer's approach was heralded by the year's first thunderstorm, its rain pouring relentlessly over the Hogwarts grounds over the weekend.
Ron and Seamus had spent half the afternoon playing Gobstones in the common room, while Harry was just watching, and did not participate, as the penalties for losing reminded him of the rotten stench of the dungbombs and its stinky liquid. It wasn't until they grew tired of Gobstones and switched to Wizard's Chess that Harry became interested.
Of course, when it came to the skill level of Wizard's Chess, Harry and Seamus combined couldn't match Ron. Under the rule of "loser's penalty," Ron had consistently remained seated, while Harry and Seamus took turns.
After being checkmated by Ron's "knight" once again, Harry smacked his lips in dissatisfaction. Glancing out the window, he realized that the gloomy day had started to take on a dusky hue.
"Oh, running—"
The words escaped Harry's lips in a panicked exclamation as the realization dawned upon him that the hour of the evening meal was rapidly approaching. The watch he was still wearing told Harry that it was almost dinnertime, and he got up in a panic.
Quite a few of the students participating in the physical education class would schedule Professor Watson's required half-hour daily run right after classes ended and before dinner, as this was the most convenient time, and will not have much impact on their other schedules.
"Good luck, Harry—"
Seamus offered Harry a sympathetic shrug, his gaze shifting momentarily towards the torrential downpour that lashed against the castle's windows, the droplets creating a hypnotic sound upon the glass panes.
Professor Watson hadn't said they could skip running just because of rain or snow.
Surveying the common room, Harry noted the conspicuous absence of Neville, while the mischievous Weasley twins, Fred and George, appeared to have momentarily vanished into the air. However, his gaze soon settled upon Ginny and Hermione, seated in a secluded corner of the room, their heads bowed in hushed conversation.
"What are you two talking about?" Harry asked as he walked over.
"Penelope Clearwater—" Hermione's response was tinged with a hint of dissatisfaction as she momentarily lifted her gaze to meet Harry's inquisitive stare. "Luna told me she's often seen Penelope sitting alone in the common room lately, lost in thought."
Harry's brow furrowed in bewilderment, his mind struggling to grasp the meaning of Hermione's words.
"So?"
Boys could be rather oblivious in such matters, and Harry didn't quite understand what Hermione was trying to say.
Hermione's expression showed a deepening sense of exasperation, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she regarded Harry with a mixture of disappointment and resignation. "So?" she echoed, her tone laced with a gentle rebuke. "I will mention this to Ginny, hoping she could talk some sense into Percy. I don't know what issues they're having, but—weren't they always on good terms?"
A fleeting notion crossed Harry's mind that perhaps Hermione was being a bit nosy, yet his better judgment told him not to voice his thoughts, as he felt that Hermione seemed to believe that all boys were as heartless as Percy.
The group left the common room, heading to the Quidditch pitch for their run. With Hermione around, Harry wasn't too worried about getting drenched in the downpour. He knew she would know many practical spells to help them avoid embarrassing situations.
The ceaseless rainfall that had persisted throughout the day had transformed the marble area of the entrance hall into an ice rink, with numerous students who had passed through slipping flat on their backs. Harry and his friends could hear screams of pain one after another when they reached the second floor.
"It's a mess. Isn't there anyone to maintain order around here?" Hermione muttered under her breath, her brow furrowing in disapproval as she surveyed the chaotic scene unfolding below.
From their elevated vantage point on the second-floor platform, her gaze was drawn to the lonely figure of Neville at the castle's entrance, his shoulders slumped in a posture of melancholy as he faced the rain-soaked world. The dejected slouch of his shoulders showed the weight of his worries, and Hermione's lips pursed involuntarily, about to extend an invitation for Neville to join their company. However, before the words could pass her lips, a shrill, mocking laugh pierced the air, shattering the tranquil moment and drawing all eyes towards its source.
It was Peeves, the infamous poltergeist, who had suddenly appeared above the entrance hall, floating at the same elevated level as Harry and his friends.
Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all noticed the pile of water-filled balloons the size of fists that Peeves was clutching, and they immediately realized what the prankster ghost intended to do.
Peeves instantly fixed his gaze on Neville, who was closest to the entrance, the muscles in his mischievous, broad face tightening with anticipation.
Before Harry, Hermione, or Ginny could utter a word of warning, Peeves struck with lightning swiftness, seizing one of the water balloons and hurling it with tremendous force towards the unsuspecting Neville.
'How strange!'
Watching the water balloon's trajectory gliding through the air, a strange thought crossed Harry and the others' minds—why did the balloon Peeves had thrown with full force seem to be moving so slowly?
Harry's lips parted, but then he immediately realized the water balloon's speed wasn't slow at all, because before he could utter the first syllable, Peeves's balloon was already only two feet away from the back of Neville's head!
And under the sympathetic gaze of those witnessing the scene, Neville suddenly moved. Harry saw that despite the familiar bewilderment on Neville's face as he turned around, his hand had already risen from his side, and at the last possible moment, he precisely caught Peeves's water balloon.
Bang!
The ensuing impact was deafening, the water balloon Neville had nimbly caught and returned tearing forth with equal vigor, grazing Peeves's cheek before exploding against the entrance hall's ceiling in a spectacular burst of water and shattered hopes.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone