Beneath Snape's poker face, his thoughts churned endlessly.
After Harry's blood rage subsided, his senses came back online. This time, Snape's true emotions were concern and worry, guilt and self-reproach, and love...
Damn, this was a twisted kind of love.
Harry stared at the ground. He'd been holding back for two months. Blame it on him for understanding people too well, and for being too sensitive. Now, the killing intent he'd just extinguished surged up again.
Killing one was killing, killing two was the same. He didn't want to keep this Snape around anymore.
"He's your parents' rival in love. Kill him as a blood sacrifice—it could empower the divine sword!"
The Red God's whisper echoed in his mind. Of course, the god suppressed under the king's authority was inherently silent; that was actually Harry's own murderous thoughts.
The scar on his right hand showed signs of spreading again, but Harry pressed it down.
The Red God on the right said kill, the Cold God on the left said death, and the power of his own king above his head said fighting feels great!
Insane. Harry almost wanted to laugh at himself. I'm just too badass.
It had been a while since he'd gone all out—it felt so damn good. His battle lust surged, and he got a bit carried away.
Quirrell seemed to sense something and found an excuse to leave.
Looks like the fight wasn't happening. Harry stuffed the longsword back into the Sorting Hat.
He didn't explain anything to Snape. Not killing him was already an act of mercy, and besides, he still wanted to stay at Hogwarts to learn magic and earn attribute points.
Professor McGonagall was still asking Harry why he'd come here to take on the troll alone. Harry didn't explain that either.
As for the consequences of ignoring her? It'd just be points deducted, right?
At that moment, a low voice came from the shadows.
"Please don't, Professor McGonagall—Harry was looking for me."
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione finally struggled to her feet.
"I came looking for the troll because I—I thought I could handle it on my own—you know, because I've read about them in books and know a lot about them."
Ron looked at Hermione, feeling like they'd reconciled.
Before, he had one thing that still bugged him about Hermione: Harry's fondness for her.
Everyone knew that Harry's closest sidekicks were Ron and Hermione—they had some kind of competitive relationship.
Who was Harry's closest person? Ron thought it should be him.
And Hermione was so lucky, yet she always tried to enforce school rules on others, even advising Harry. Hermione saw herself as a loyal minister, but in Ron's eyes, that was like being given an inch and taking a mile—it was practically criminal.
Who are you calling the treacherous minister?
If it weren't for the fact that Harry definitely wouldn't like it, he would've fought Hermione ages ago. Your spellwork might be impressive, but my punching curse isn't afraid of you!
But now, Hermione Granger had told a whopping lie to a teacher just to take the blame?
"If he hadn't found me, I'd definitely be dead by now. The troll had already knocked my wand away. If Harry hadn't arrived in time and jumped in to hack the troll to death, I'd be... Harry didn't have time to get help. When he got here, the troll was about to swallow me whole."
Harry was surprised by Hermione's story too. This way, wouldn't you get a ton of points deducted?
He knew Hermione cared a lot about that. Was this really okay?
"Oh—if that's the case..." Professor McGonagall stared at them, pondering. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think you could take on a mountain-sized troll all by yourself?"
Hermione hung her head.
Ron wanted to say something, but he couldn't get a word out.
Hermione was the least likely person to break school rules, and now, to get Harry out of trouble, she was lying and saying she'd broken them herself.
This was about as unbelievable as Snape publicly declaring his love for Harry.
"Miss Granger, for this, Gryffindor will lose five points," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better hurry back to Gryffindor Tower. The students are all enjoying the Halloween feast in their common rooms."
Hermione left.
Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron.
"Well, Harry, I still have to say you're lucky. Even though you're strong and have the Sword of Gryffindor, a first-year student facing off against a full-grown troll is still too dangerous.
He's so big—what if he'd hit you? We should still try to fight in a wizard's way as much as possible...
For Harry's bravery and Ron's timely report, each of you has earned five points for Gryffindor. I'll inform Professor Dumbledore about this. You may go."
The two exchanged a glance and left the bathroom, climbing two flights of stairs in silence.
"Harry, for what you did, you should've earned more than ten points," Ron grumbled once they were far enough away.
"Actually, it's only five points, after subtracting the ones she took from Hermione. Looks like doing something this dangerous as a first-year isn't worth encouraging in Professor McGonagall's eyes... But I've already gotten a better reward."
"What is it?"
"Power."
"..." Ron was speechless.
Silence for a few seconds.
"...Harry, the things you say are always so profound."
Ron wondered, is this how all supreme powerhouses are?
Whether it was Dumbledore or Harry, they sometimes said weird things.
Like "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
Like "Winter is coming," or "How can you sleep at your age?"
A bit unhinged.
Harry felt that unless Ron got a system one day and traveled to other worlds, he might never understand.
He shook his head and said, "Today, Hermione actually dared to lie to a professor, and she did it well. Maybe that's a kind of courage too?"
"Hermione's great—she stepped up and got you out of trouble," Ron admitted. "But don't forget, you did save her. She owes you."
"But what broke her today was us. If she hadn't overheard our conversation, she might not have been down there alone today, and wouldn't have needed saving."
Harry reminded him. That was a beautified way of putting it—Harry rarely talked bad about friends behind their backs, while Ron hadn't considered Hermione a friend back then.
"I said it, it's all on me. What does it have to do with you?"
They arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait.
"Pig snout," they said the password and climbed inside.
The common room was packed and noisy.
Everyone was eating Halloween food, and Hermione was standing by the door, waiting for Harry.
Harry accepted the massive pile of pumpkin pies everyone had packed for him and greeted her: "Hermione, are you feeling better now? Want some pumpkin?"
Hermione nodded, then shook her head.
She couldn't eat.
Harry, meanwhile, chowed down, devouring the pies like he was guzzling drinks.
Ron wanted to apologize to Hermione, but he couldn't say it.
For a moment, neither spoke, just watching Harry eat like crazy.
Then, Hermione said "Thank you" to Harry and hurried off to her dormitory.
From that moment on, however, Hermione Granger truly joined Harry's circle.
When you go through an event with someone, you can't help but develop fondness for them. And Harry descending like a god in a crisis to defeat the monster and save her—that was an event bound to create fondness in a young girl.
If it didn't, it meant the person lacked charm.
Among Harry's three golden attributes, his charm was already abnormally high—at a full five points.
The reason Gryffindor wasn't showing scenes of "Loyalty!" everywhere Harry went was entirely because Harry didn't want it to be that exaggerated.
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