The Silent Witch of Hogwarts

Chapter 277 Dumbledore's Plan

Chapter 277 Dumbledore's Plan

As the week of classes came to an end, the last vestiges of Christmas spirit that had lingered in the students' hearts vanished completely, and attending classes and writing papers seemed to return to the routine until a regular dinner party on the weekend arrived.

"Headmaster Dumbledore is here today—" Hermione said, somewhat surprised, sitting in the audience. "Is something about to happen?"

"Maybe he just wanted to come over for dinner." Ron said, picking up a chicken leg and taking a bite, mumbling, "This is a bit much."

"Can you finish eating before you talk?!" Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at Harry, only to find that Harry was also looking thoughtfully at the professors' table on the stage.

"Professor Hamilton is here too," he said slowly. "I've never seen Professor Hamilton here before."

Indeed—Hermione nodded thoughtfully. Professor Hamilton had almost never eaten in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, and this seemed to be one of the few times she had seen him.

However, judging from her wearing a mask, it's hard to say whether she actually came to eat.

"Class, please be quiet." Dumbledore coughed lightly, then tapped the side of his cup with his spoon.

The students quieted down at the sound of the clear voice.

"I have something to tell you all tonight," Dumbledore said slowly. "After discussions with the Board of Governors, the professors, and the Ministry of Magic..."

,””

"It has been decided that Hogwarts will hold its first tournament of duels on February 1st of this year."

"A dueling tournament?"

"This rumor is actually true?!"

Clearly, Dumbledore's words caused quite a stir among the students. Although some well-informed students had already heard similar rumors, they were still surprised when the news came true.

"We've decided to use an entry system for this competition, which means—anyone in any grade can register," Dumbledore said, raising an eyebrow. "But similarly..."

"Your opponents may not necessarily be in the same grade as you."

Dumbledore's words made many students immediately purse their lips and consider giving up.

If it's between students of different grades—that would be a bit dangerous.

After all, not everyone is like Professor Hamilton, who can easily defeat sixth and seventh graders in fourth grade—or even twice.

Most of the younger students at Hogwarts do not have the ability to duel wizards. Even though there is a dueling club that has been running for more than a year, there are still many students who do not have that ability.

"Should we go?" Ron muttered as he asked. "I don't want to run into Fred and George."

The Weasley twins seemed to think he would definitely attend.

"I'll probably participate," Harry said after thinking for a moment. "It sounds like a lot of fun—"

Hermione nodded. "I'll probably participate too."

"Then I'll join too—" Seeing that his friends had all chosen to participate, Ron pursed his lips and nodded slightly.

"But don't worry, everyone—your safety will be guaranteed." Dumbledore said slowly, looking at Professor Hamilton, who was sitting silently beside him: "The magic array provided by Miss Hamilton will ensure everyone's safety."

"Ah—um—" Miss Hamilton, whose name was mentioned, seemed a little absent-minded. She shuddered, then stood up and nodded to everyone.

Upon seeing her, many students immediately cheered. Harry pursed his lips and noticed that most of the students were members of the Pinecone Party.

"I bet quite a few Pinecones will join," Harry shook his head, lowered his head, and clenched his fist. He wanted to win the dueling tournament like Professor Hamilton.

"The champion of the dueling tournament will receive a reward of five hundred Galleons, in addition to—special prizes from the professors." Dumbledore paused, "including potions made by Professor Snape and magic arrays made by Professor Hamilton."

"They even have magic array items and potions?" Hermione muttered in surprise, and she even started counting on her fingers how she could win the championship.

The other young wizards were also noticeably more excited, and those students who had initially given up suddenly started rubbing their hands together in anticipation.

"Hey, Pott!" Just as Harry was giving a shout-out, an annoying voice came from behind him. He turned his head slightly and saw Malfoy with a smug look on his face.

"What's wrong, Malfoy?" Harry looked at him irritably. "Are you signing up too?"

"Of course," Malfoy shrugged. "I'm determined to win the championship."

"I'm warning you, Malfoy, this isn't Quidditch. Unless you get the Elder Wand, you might not even make it to the Round of 64," Ron said mockingly.

Upon hearing this, Malfoy glared at Ron and said, "You Weasley bastard, you have quite the nerve! Do you think you can win the championship just by wielding that wand that's been passed down from your grandmother?"

"you----"

"Let's make a bet!" Harry slammed his hand on the table and said, "We'll see who gets the better final ranking."

"I'm not going to compare myself to you guys," Malfoy scoffed. "There are three of you and I'm all alone. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Don't you have two henchmen?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "Did they get food poisoning?"

"Crawb and Goyle have their own missions," Malfoy shook his head. "Anyway, I'll only compete against one of you."

"Then let's compete," Harry said, patting his chest. "Even though you can't beat anyone, if you insist on saying so, then let's compete."

"Harry!" Hermione pulled Harry aside and whispered, "Malfoy definitely has some bad idea—"

Harry shook his head and said, "Even if it were true, so what?"

"Can he still cheat under Dumbledore's watchful eye?"

"But----"

"Then it's settled," Malfoy said immediately before Hermione could finish speaking.

"Then it's a deal!"

Looking at the excited students below the stage, Dumbledore smiled slightly, then looked at Loila sitting next to him.

"Miss Hamilton, we'll need your help with this matter."

"Hmm?" Loila, sitting next to Dumbledore, shuddered, a hint of distress appearing on her face beneath the mask—How much help can I offer—how can I help—

And—you didn't tell me anything about the prize beforehand—and the champion even gets 500 Galleons—you only give me 50 Galleons a month, okay?

Loila pursed her lips as she watched the lively students.

I might as well disguise myself as a student and participate secretly.

But when she thought that most of the professors would recognize her disguise, Loila gave up on the somewhat daring idea.

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