A few minutes later, at Hagrid's hut.

"So, you only used a Shrinking Solution to temporarily return Norbert to its infancy stage?"

Hagrid picked up a kettle from beside the fireplace and poured each young wizard a cup of steaming hot tea, while curiously examining the three-headed puppy yawning on the table in the center of the room, a strange expression on his face.

However, despite the surprise, the half-giant wasn't worried about Norbert's physical condition.

As a devoted fan of magical creatures, Hagrid was well aware of the magical resistance of an adult three-headed dog.

If Norbert hadn't actively cooperated, let alone a Shrinking Solution, even the most potent poisons wouldn't have had much effect on the dog.

At least from Norbert's current expression, it seemed quite happy and enjoying itself?

"That's right, this is a Shrinking Solution I asked Professor Snape to help concoct," said Hermione, nodding and scratching Norbert's chin, openly admitting it. "That way, I can bring Norbert back to the castle to raise. It's a pity to leave it outside in the wind and rain—Professor Dumbledore should have explained to you that it's now bonded with me."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Apocalyps told me about it once."

Hagrid nodded slightly, without much confusion, but with a hint of reluctance on his face.

Since an official professor had helped, Dumbledore, as the headmaster of Hogwarts, must have known about it and hadn't objected, indicating tacit approval.

But it seemed that from now on, his large Norbert would become Hermione's small Norbert.

Hagrid glanced at the three-headed puppy with a sense of loss, then turned to Hermione and said seriously, "Then... Norbert is entrusted to you from now on. I hope you take good care of it."

"Don't worry, Hagrid, I'll treat little Norbert as carefully as I treat my emergency rations," Hermione said, looking at Hagrid's slightly subtle expression, and quickly added, "Emergency rations—um, that's my little owl—you've seen it."

Little owl? Hagrid blinked, his expression instantly relaxing.

He certainly remembered that spirited little creature. Many young wizards liked owls, but the way Hermione liked them, to the point of carrying one around in her clothes and having such a deep understanding with it, was extremely rare.

And watching Hermione and the others teasing Norbert with small strips of meat, Rubeus Hagrid couldn't help but recall the days when he was still studying at Hogwarts, secretly raising Aragog under his dormitory bed.

"By the way, would you like to hear some stories about Norbert when it was young?"

Hagrid glanced at the girls surrounding Norbert in the hut, then suddenly grinned happily.

If Hagrid had any hobbies besides raising magical creatures, sharing magical creature-raising tips would definitely be one of them.

"I remember Norbert loved drinking milk when it was young. Now that it's small again, I'm not sure if its diet will revert to what it used to be. Also, I remember..."

After last week's unicorn herd filming experience, the girls were noticeably closer and more familiar with Hagrid than before. They were naturally quite interested in this kind of storytelling session.

Anyway, there were no other plans for the afternoon. It was indeed a good choice to tease the puppy while listening to stories about magical creatures—and for Hermione and the others, it was necessary to learn how to feed Norbert.

...

Meanwhile, outside Hogwarts Castle.

The Care of Magical Creatures class for Hogwarts third-years had just ended, and today's lesson was on the sensitive and mischievous Bowtruckles.

For some reason, the Gryffindor and Slytherin students didn't argue or have any unpleasantness in this class, which relieved Professor Grubbly-Plank.

After announcing the end of class, the elderly Kettleburn lowered his head and began counting the number of Bowtruckles, not noticing that the students weren't heading straight back to the castle as usual, but were intentionally or unintentionally walking towards the greenhouses.

On the other side, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin fourth-year students who had just finished their Herbology class weren't in a hurry to leave either.

Several young wizards were pestering Professor Sprout, asking various questions about Herbology, while more people secretly drew their wands and held them in their hands, looking expectantly at the lush vegetable garden in the distance.

From the direction of the castle gate in the distance, one young wizard after another emerged...

Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor, except for the Hufflepuff students, almost more than half of the first-year, sixth-year, and seventh-year students who didn't have classes were walking out, chatting and laughing.

Many people were holding flying brooms, giving the impression of a large-scale Quidditch enthusiast exchange competition.

In fact, those one or two Hufflepuff first-year students who were unknowingly swept along by the crowd thought so—it seemed that everyone except Hufflepuff had coincidentally thought of getting some fresh air outside the castle?

In a way, that wasn't entirely wrong.

After all, the main "actors" who triggered this event were indeed members of their respective house Quidditch teams.

Hmm, almost at the designated location.

Slytherin Chaser Cassius Warrington scanned the surrounding crowd, nodded to himself, stopped, turned to face the Weasley twins standing not far from him, and suddenly mocked in a voice that everyone could hear.

"Tsk, tsk, Weasley, it seems you Gryffindors are really stupid, probably only good at growing potatoes?"

"Heh, that's better than you Slytherins eating sh*t," Fred Weasley retorted loudly, with a perfectly timed look of disgust on his face. "Everyone at Hogwarts knows now that you dung beetles eat things from the toilet every day."

"Huh? What did you say?!"

Cassius Warrington's expression froze slightly, and he frowned heavily.

This didn't seem to match the script they had agreed on. Weren't they supposed to just say they smelled bad? Why weren't the Weasleys following the lines provided by Slytherin?

"I said, the noble Slytherins eat sh*t every day!"

"No, no, Fred, they also eat smelly socks!"

The twins exchanged glances and said in unison—anyway, it was all about finding an excuse to fight, so they would insult them however they felt comfortable. They wouldn't completely follow the Slytherins' commands.

"Weasleys, you pure-blood family disgraces, the best thing you've ever eaten in your life is probably potatoes, right? I heard your family is so poor that you take turns wearing clothes. Are you wearing your mom's socks?"

Cassius Warrington's eyes flashed with a cold light as he retorted sarcastically.

Slytherin wasn't an academy to be bullied. If they could take this opportunity to openly beat up some Gryffindors to vent their anger, it seemed like a good bonus.

"Penelope, they..."

A Ravenclaw girl tugged at Penelope's sleeve worriedly. It had just started, and Gryffindor and Slytherin were already improvising, which made her a little worried.

According to the process originally discussed by the three academies, they were only supposed to make a few simple taunts, then wave their wands a few times to create chaos and take the opportunity to steal vegetables, but looking at the current trend...

"It's okay, Gryffindor and Slytherin... heh, they definitely wouldn't stop at a friendly point from the very beginning."

Penelope Clearwater, the Ravenclaw prefect candidate, shook her head with a chuckle, a hint of playful anticipation in her eyes, and replied with certainty, "They will definitely have a real fight!"

"Eh?! But..."

"But what does it matter? It's not a bad thing for us, is it?"

Just as the two were talking, Gryffindor and Slytherin had already started shouting at each other in the distance, the tension at least twice as intense as originally planned.

As Penelope said, even if it was just acting between acquaintances, arguments could easily turn into real anger, let alone between two academies that already disliked each other.

More and more Slytherin and Gryffindor students gathered around both sides, holding their wands and standing in a stalemate in the open space, the atmosphere gradually becoming tense, as if a spark could ignite the air.

Professor Sprout, surrounded by students in the middle of the field, also gradually noticed the argument in the distance. She stopped answering questions, frowned at the source of the noise, moved her feet, and was about to go see what was happening.

However, before Professor Sprout could take a step...

"Don't think I don't know, you're willing to lick Ravenclaw's shoes for a little fruit—what's wrong, Weasley, did I hit a sore spot? Your father licks other people's shoes like that in the Ministry, doesn't he?"

"You'll pay for that, Warrington!"

"Eat sh*t! Slytherin!"

Fred and George roared simultaneously, angrily drawing their wands and pointing them at the guy in front of them.

Bang!

Two dazzling red lights shot out from the tips of their wands, directly hitting Cassius Warrington, who was still sneering, sending him flying into the crowd behind him, clearly without any intention of holding back.

"Weasleys! Do you really want to fight?! Then come on!"

Caught off guard and knocked down, Cassius Warrington struggled to his feet, drew his wand, pointed it at Fred Weasley, and shouted without thinking, "Stupefy!"

It was as if a signal had been given. The Gryffindor and Slytherin students, whose nerves were stretched to the limit, shouted their spells at each other, and the entire field instantly turned into a chaotic mess of flying spells.

Naturally, the Slytherin students who had been surrounding the greenhouse, as well as the Gryffindor students who had come out of the castle, also poured into the "battlefield," joining the chaotic brawl.

Compared to the small-scale "street battles" and "chase battles" that had occurred before, this frontal confrontation with pre-assembled manpower was undoubtedly much more intense and chaotic—all kinds of spells were flying everywhere, and the students were reciting all the spells they had learned at will, as if it were a grand party game.

Of course, the group in the center of the field was clearly fighting with real fire.

The Weasley twins were undoubtedly the most powerful core damage dealers. The two, working together seamlessly, could even block more than twice as many attacks, and the curses from their wands were even more difficult to undo.

"Oh, stop! Stop it!"

Professor Sprout was stunned for a few seconds, then quickly reacted, forced her way through the crowd, and squeezed towards the center of the battlefield, waving her wand anxiously, trying to interrupt the inexplicable student brawl.

However, before she could take a few steps forward, fierce battles broke out almost everywhere: at the castle gate, in the direction of the Care of Magical Creatures field, outside the Herbology greenhouse, and in the direction of the Hufflepuff vegetable garden...

The roar of spells and the shouts of students in disarray were mixed together. The short Professor Sprout didn't even know which side was fighting the most fiercely, and even worse...

"Professor Sprout, we're here to help! Stop fighting!"

Seeing the Gryffindor and Slytherin students mixed together, and Professor Sprout submerged in the crowd, Penelope Clearwater shouted, then drew her wand and released a blue firework signal into the sky.

Then, the Ravenclaw prefect candidate turned to look at her companion and said calmly, "Sisters, it's our turn. Follow the plan."

As the blue magical signal exploded in the sky, the Ravenclaw wizards hovering on the outer edge of the battlefield looked at each other, drew their wands with great interest, and began casting various spells into the open space or into the air, while putting on a show of making various screams and angry curses.

The chaos of the entire field instantly increased several times over. In the midst of the crowd, Professor Sprout seemed to have been transported to the wizarding war of decades ago—an individual's power was simply too insignificant in this kind of scenario.

Even though Professor Sprout had casted *Sonorus*, her calls for them to stop were exceptionally helpless and inconspicuous amidst the explosions and collisions of various spells, and there was no way to reach too far.

In fact, unless it was a top wizard like Dumbledore or Grindelwald, it was too difficult for anyone to quickly end the chaos on their own once they were caught in this chaotic magical battlefield.

"Stop fighting! Stop it, all of you!"

Professor Sprout roared hoarsely. This was the first time in so many years that she had appeared so angry and impatient. In her view, students were being hit by spells and screaming every moment.

This feeling of helplessness was more terrifying than any nightmare for this kind and simple witch—why, why, why did this happen?!

Had the conflicts between Hogwarts academies reached such a desperate and irreconcilable point?!

Professor Sprout felt a sense of despair and helplessness, constantly waving her wand, shouting loudly, and struggling to shuttle between the students who were already "seeing red," trying to end this inexplicable brawl.

However, no matter how she tried to mediate and stop them, the places that had calmed down would start fighting again soon after she left.

Those students seemed to have deep-seated hatred, and the spells flying over everyone's heads almost formed a screen of light. The explosions and shouts never stopped from beginning to end, and many students even had a distorted and terrifying unnatural smile on their faces.

This made Professor Sprout even more panicked. In her decades of teaching experience, she had never encountered such a strange situation.

Could it be that for these children, fighting and hurting each other could bring them happiness and pleasure?!

What a terrible form of bias and hostility?!

Professor Dumbledore was right. The deep-rooted walls between academies must be opened and resolved, or Hogwarts would be doomed.

However, in places outside Professor Sprout's sight, in places she didn't notice...