Chapter 60. Now Will Do
Very soon, Adrian Wesson gave up on the idea of making the Chinese Chomping Cabbage a little smarter.
Perhaps it was because the trait of "wisdom" simply did not suit them; not a single Chinese Chomping Cabbage acquired it.
But...
[Species: Chinese Chomping Cabbage]
[Level: 2]
[Trait: Parasitise]
[Status: Growing (0%)]
They had all acquired the ability to parasitise.
As for its effect, naturally it was the same as Devil's Snare: it could parasitise a person's body.
However, when Wesson personally tried letting them parasitise his own body, the result was even stranger than Devil's Snare.
Looking at the few Chinese Chomping Cabbages sprouting out of his arm, Wesson couldn't help shivering.
It was still better to keep them in pots...
…..
Night fell, and the Great Hall at Hogwarts blazed with light.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry was telling Ron about what had happened after today's flying lesson—Professor McGonagall had made an exception and put him on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Hearing this, Ron's mouth hung open in astonishment; he even forgot to chew the meat pie in his mouth.
"Don't tell anyone," Harry said coolly as he ate the same kind of meat pie Ron had. "Wood asked me to keep it secret—he's the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
Ron looked even more excited than Harry.
"Oh, Merlin," he exclaimed, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "If I joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I'd be so excited I couldn't eat! Are you a Beater? Or a Seeker?"
"A Seeker—and keep your voice down." Harry hurriedly motioned for Ron to lower his voice.
For the rest of the time, Ron kept asking how Harry had been chosen.
In truth, Harry himself was a little surprised.
The first time he touched a broomstick, he felt a marvellous sense of control.
During the flying lesson, he only tried once and his broom leapt into his hand.
Compared with the other students, he couldn't have done better.
Those Slytherin students who boasted of their flying skills had to try many, many times at best.
As for Malfoy—Harry admitted that although he flew well, he was still a bit worse than Harry...
…..
Just as Harry was thinking of Malfoy, Malfoy actually appeared in front of him.
Seeing Malfoy and his two hangers-on, Harry immediately showed a look of disgust.
"Potter, didn't the professor tell you to go back to the Muggles?" Malfoy said with a mocking drawl. "Or are you enjoying your last supper at Hogwarts?"
Clearly, he was sneering at Harry for breaking the rules in flying class.
After Malfoy spoke, Goyle and Crabbe obligingly let out a low chuckle.
Harry, however, only found them a bit ridiculous.
"You've got a lot bolder now," Harry glanced at Goyle and Crabbe, then said coldly, "since you've got two wooden lumps who can only grin."
Goyle and Crabbe immediately took a step forward, glaring at Harry.
Under the table, Harry's hand slipped quietly into his robes and closed around his wand.
He wasn't skilled with spells, but he could still cast a simple Levitation Charm precisely.
Though he wasn't sure he could actually make Goyle and Crabbe float up to the ceiling.
Even so, the moment those two blokes showed any sign of laying hands on him, he would cast it at once!
However, there were too many people in the Great Hall, and Goyle and Crabbe clearly didn't dare to really do anything.
This let Harry breathe a small sigh of relief, though he couldn't help a twinge of disappointment.
For all his practising, he had never actually tried a spell on a person.
"Harry Potter," Malfoy suddenly spoke, sneering, "let's have a duel like real wizards. A wizard's duel! Tonight—how about it?"
Harry stood up almost without hesitation and looked Malfoy straight in the eye. "Why wait till tonight? Now will do. I know a place where no one will disturb us."
Malfoy had clearly not expected Harry to be so blunt; his smile froze at once.
Seeing Harry already up from his seat and looking eager for a go, Malfoy hastily coughed, then waved his hand in forced composure. "Don't be hasty, Potter. A wizard's duel isn't child's play. First, you've got to choose a decent second."
He shot a glance at Ron, then shook his head and let out a "tsk."
Ron seemed provoked by this. His face flushed and he sprang to his feet. "Just you wait—we accept. I'll be his second."
"Very well then, Potter. Midnight tonight. I'll be waiting for you in the Trophy Room."
Malfoy nodded in satisfaction. Leaving those words behind, he led Goyle and Crabbe away, giving Harry no chance to reply.
Harry could only sit back down and stare at Ron for a moment, face to face.
"I shouldn't have just accepted like that, should I?" Ron suddenly asked, seeming to think it was a bit off for him to have accepted the duel on Harry's behalf.
Harry smiled, patted Ron's shoulder, and said lightly, "Don't worry, Ron. I hadn't planned to refuse anyway."
Only then did Ron's expression ease a little.
"So, what's a wizard's duel?" Harry asked as he forked up food from his plate.
"I thought you knew," Ron blinked, then explained, "A wizard's duel is a magical contest between two wizards. The two stand face to face, bow, and then cast spells at each other—pretty cool, isn't it?"
"Sounds very formal," Harry answered indistinctly as he chewed.
"But your duel won't be like that," Ron shrugged. "You and Malfoy probably can't manage any proper spells."
That was true. Harry nodded in agreement. The spells he knew really couldn't support him in a fight.
Those combat-type spells—like the Shield Charm and the Disarming Charm—he didn't seem able to use any of them.
As for Malfoy, Harry didn't think he knew those spells either.
"Then just use your fist to knock his nose crooked," Ron said viciously, swinging his fist.
Harry spread his hands, indicating that might be all he could do.
At that moment, a crisp voice came from the side. "Sorry—excuse me."
Harry and Ron turned together and saw Hermione standing behind them, brows knitted; she had clearly heard their conversation just now.
"You mustn't wander about outside at midnight," Hermione said reprovingly. "You'll definitely be caught—Gryffindor will lose points!"
"No one will know," Ron curled his lip. "So long as a certain someone doesn't blab."
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