Struggling to survive at Hogwarts

Chapter 200 The Class Monitor at the New Semester

Since the debate that night, Harry has never seen Walbuga in any of the portraits in the old house again.

Did someone find out about my conversation with her and worry that she would affect me, so they kicked her out?

Harry was worried that something had happened to the other person, while also being anxious about the conversation being leaked.

He wasn't afraid of their scolding; after all, he was used to Snape's sarcastic remarks, and he swore that no one could match Snape's sarcasm...

What he feared was not anything else, but the disappointed look in their eyes.

They didn't need to say a word; just a glance from them was enough to make Harry feel like he couldn't take it.

He knew the effort they had poured into him and how much they had sacrificed for him, which made him even more afraid to make mistakes; he didn't want to let them down.

But soon, Harry was completely preoccupied with something else.

That day, the Weasley twins were discussing who would be the professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts this semester.

"I'm wondering who came up with that 'Defense Against Magic Theory'," Fred said, somewhat puzzled.

“This means Dumbledore has found a new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts!” George replied.

"Do you know who the new teacher is?" Harry asked curiously.

"I don't know." The twins shrugged and spread their hands together.

“But just a few weeks ago, we overheard Dad and Mom talking with our extendable ears,” Fred said. “We heard that Dumbledore has gone through a lot of trouble to find someone who could do the job all these years.”

“That was inevitable. Just look at what happened to those four teachers before, and you’ll know how dangerous it is to take Defense Against the Dark Arts class!” George said.

“One was expelled, one died, one had his memory erased, and one was locked in a box for nine months.” Harry counted them off on his fingers.

At this moment, Ron, who was standing there blankly, caught the attention of the twins.

“Ron, what’s wrong?” Fred asked.

Ron didn't answer, but everyone could see the reason for his blank expression: he was holding a gold and red metal object in his hand.

“Impossible,” George said in a low voice. “There must be a mistake.”

Fred snatched the badge from Ron's hand, holding it high in the light as if checking if it was a counterfeit. "Who in their right mind would choose Ron as prefect?"

Ron's face flushed red at his two brothers' mockery. He reached out to snatch the badge back from Fred's hand, but Fred held it high, teasing him.

The door was pushed open with a bang, and Hermione rushed into the room, her face flushed and her hair flying in the air, holding an envelope in her hand.

She saw Ron and Fred seemingly fighting over something, while Harry stood there blankly to the side.

She instantly understood what was going on, and the envelope in her hand seemed to get hot.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't know..." Hermione looked at Harry apologetically.

Faced with Hermione's cautiousness and Ron and his companion's already stopped, Harry felt his sense of loss amplify a hundredfold in that instant.

“What’s there to apologize for? It’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Harry tried to sound cheerful.

A moment later, Mrs. Weasley also came in.

After learning that Ron had been elected prefect, Mrs. Weasley surprisingly agreed to give Ron a new broom as a reward!

Seeing his friend engrossed in his joy, Harry quietly left the room.

He knew he shouldn't be jealous of his best friend, but please allow him to not want to witness the other's joy for this moment.

"I'm only jealous for this moment! I swear!"

Harry silently made this promise to himself.

------

After finally processing the news that his friend was the prefect and he hadn't been elected, Harry finally recovered.

For some reason, Harry felt hungry very quickly that evening, so he called Ron and Hermione to come down to the kitchen to see what they could eat.

As they passed the meeting room, the shouts and table-pounding sounds coming from inside made Harry and his two companions, who were not far away, tremble.

"What was Dumbledore thinking? Why did he make Black a Slytherin prefect?"

Harry froze on the spot.

Blake?

Which Blake?

She became the class monitor?

"Dumbledore has his own considerations; he always sees further ahead than any of us."

This is Lupin gently persuading her.

"But he didn't even tell us beforehand that he chose Black as prefect!" Moody slammed his fist on the table.

“Remus, you were a prefect before, you should know how much power a prefect has in the academy!”

"Isn't Dumbledore afraid that Slytherin will all be Death Eaters in the future?!"

“Hey, Moody,” Kingsley said, “the prefects only have three years, it might not be so bad!”

“No, Kingsley,” Moody said, “you have no idea what Black has been doing in Slytherin. She started a study group in her first year, and not long ago she won over almost all the upperclassmen at Hogwarts with duels and Galleons!”

"Now Dumbledore has chosen her as prefect..."

"I simply cannot imagine how far Black's influence will grow at Hogwarts!"

Moody slammed his fist on the table with tremendous force, but Professor McGonagall's words finally calmed him down.

"In my opinion, Dumbledore has already told us why he chose Black."

As soon as Professor McGonagall spoke, everyone present straightened up, and Moody also slightly restrained his temper.

"So what is the reason?"

"It's very possible that we're about to face an even bigger problem than Black becoming prefect—"

"Perhaps having Black as prefect would actually limit this problem—"

Harry ate his dinner absentmindedly the following dinner.

Professor McGonagall's words kept echoing in his mind: were they about to be in big trouble?

Harry thought this, and he asked it aloud.

Unexpectedly, Ron patted Harry on the shoulder nonchalantly and said, "Brother, relax. What trouble in the world is bigger than a professor with a mysterious man stuck to the back of his head and a basilisk?"