Hogwarts: The Savior's Strong Cousin

When the two people who were spying on the news and were almost exposed came back in a hurry, Dudley was already sitting aside with a bitter face and blood marks all over his face, and he was still holding the ferocious Hermione tightly in his arms.

"Boys, you should really see what happened. Don't ever talk to a girl like that."

Myrtle giggled and dived into the toilet, splashing a lot of water, which scared Catwoman Granger so much that she scratched herself madly again, leaving several bloody marks on Dudley's body.

"Excellent. Now Madam Pomfrey has something to say."

Ron couldn't help laughing out loud.

The external injuries were not a big deal, and Dudley's wounds had almost healed before he even reached the school hospital, without even a scab left. But poor Miss Granger had to stay in the ward for several weeks until the start of the second semester.

The other students thought it was just another petrification attack and rushed to see it. Madam Pomfrey was so angry that she took out the curtain and covered Hermione's bed tightly, thus avoiding Miss Granger from making a fool of herself for the third time.

"Honestly, I think I should get a rabies shot. Does anyone know if Millicent's cat has been vaccinated?"

Dudley supported the limping Hermione. Miss Granger, who had not yet fully recovered, seemed to have forgotten that she was now injured and kicked Dudley on the leg.

"Where's Harry? Where's Ron? Why didn't they come today?"

Hermione's cat ears were also hidden in her fluffy brown hair, and her tail had not been completely retracted, so her walk was naturally a little strange.

"Professor Snape gave some homework...Harry thought he had until sixth year to finish it."

The two chatted with each other and finally made it to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry and Ron were staring at the dark diary in a daze.

"T M Riddle? Why not T M Riddle?"

Dudley was the first to complain about the signature on the title page.

"That's a dirty word, you can't say it casually."

Ron shrank back, noticing Percy was nearby.

"But this... Riddle? He received an award for special contributions to the school fifty years ago."

The three people showed surprised expressions.

With Ronald's record in history of magic being full of burning books and burying scholars alive, how could he remember this name?

"What a look! Don't forget, Harry, when you were writing fan letters to that Lockhart guy, I was helping Filch clean those medals in the trophy room - who knew that there would be slug marks on the medals and it would take a whole hour to clean them?"

Ron protested angrily, you can question my studies, but you can't question my sweat!

The three expressed their understanding.

"He didn't write a single word. What kind of diary is this?"

Hermione sat on the soft chair with a glass of butterbeer in her hand.

In theory, students would not be given alcohol, and even children's alcohol, such as butterbeer, which is closer to a drink, would not appear in Hogwarts in principle. However, no matter how difficult the blockade is, there will always be someone who can find a way to get some scarce goods, so the popularity of butterbeer and mead among students is not something incredible.

"Riddle must be a Muggle, to buy a diary in Vauxhall Road..."

Harry deduced thoughtfully, and Dudley pouted.

Muggle?

It’s more like the nemesis of Muggles.

Harry put the diary away anyway.

At the beginning of February, Hermione was discharged from the hospital, and she brought a lot of things to reveal the diary that hid the secret. However, neither the "Quick Appearance" nor the Revealing Eraser had any effect.

"Give up, you'll get nothing."

"Maybe Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and didn't want to put in the effort to write in it."

"And his special contribution award, maybe it's for getting thirty OWL certificates, maybe it's for saving a student from the giant squid, maybe it's for murdering Myrtle, that will definitely make everyone feel satisfied..."

Ron always hits the nail on the head at the most crucial point.

It’s a pity that a master of intuition and a rational genius obviously didn’t believe his nonsense.

And Harry always felt that he seemed to be very familiar with the name T. M. Riddle, as if he was a friend he knew without knowing it.

But there is also a good thing. The sun is starting to show its face, which is also a good encouragement for the Hogwarts teachers and students who are immersed in conspiracy and suspicion.

"Madam Pomfrey...said that the mandrakes are starting to become...uh, moody, and some are becoming silent."

"It means they are... out of their childhood stage, and once their acne has healed, they can... be transplanted again."

"Then, it won't be long before Colin, Justin, and Mrs. Norris will all be able to recover."

Neville has exciting news.

He learned this when he was taking private lessons from Professor Sprout and studying herbology.

Everyone is very happy.

However, there are also dissenting opinions. At least Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff still firmly believes that "Harry Potter is the culprit", and even Peeves has added fuel to the fire, telling everyone he meets in the corridor, and now even accompanies it with fixed dance moves.

"You know, we need a morale boost right now!"

"Erase the things from last semester from your memory!"

"I cannot say more now, but I think I have a pretty good idea of ​​what is going on..."

As they passed through the corridor, Dudley and Harry heard Lockhart chattering away, boasting to Professor McGonagall, who looked helpless.

"Let me put it this way. This is one of the rare times that Lockhart speaks like a human being."

Before going to bed, Dudley finished his last set of rehabilitation exercises and said to Ron who was yawning.

"Maybe. I hope he won't mess up the cafeteria. Tomorrow seems to be Valentine's Day, February 14th..."

Wearing patched cotton slippers, Ron lazily walked back to the bedroom with Dudley arm in arm.

Although with his height, he was almost hanging on Dudley's left half of the body.

And Miss Granger's eyes lit up on the sofa.

Valentine's Day!

What a great opportunity!

Then, early the next morning, everyone realized how disgusting the so-called "morale boosting" was.

The four walls were covered with large pink flowers, and there were a lot of heart-shaped and colorful confetti falling slowly from the light blue ceiling. Harry and Dudley saw that Ron's face was full of disgust, and he only ate one and a half bowls of his favorite shrimp custard.

Even Miss Granger sat at the table with a wink, brushing scraps of paper out of her hair from time to time.

"Too bad this is not how I imagined St. Valentine's Day to be."