Hermione was furious.
The points she had just earned hadn’t even warmed up before being docked again!
“Is that guy an idiot?
Points I just earned—from Professor Snape, no less!
Couldn’t he use his tiny brain to think about how hard that was?” Hermione was angry and heartbroken, even using words Snape frequently muttered.
Caelan felt a bit helpless.
Ron was basically like this in the early days.
Though not bad at heart, he was purely an immature kid.
He had older brothers above him and a younger sister below him.
Neither the pampered youngest child nor the heavily relied-upon eldest.
Stuck in the middle, even his wand—immensely important to a wizard—was a hand-me-down from his brothers.
This inevitably made him feel somewhat insecure.
And excessive inferiority, just like excessive arrogance, was a poison capable of destroying a person.
Even after class ended, Hermione was still filled with indignation.
“I really don’t get it!
Why does he dislike you so much?” “Because I’m a Slytherin?” “Can’t that idiot see that you’re different from the other Slytherins?” Hermione clutched her books, her footsteps heavy with anger as she walked.
“Certain beliefs can’t be changed overnight,” Caelan said, shrugging helplessly.
Pure-blood wizards like Ron had been exposed to things in the wizarding world since early childhood.
They were intimately familiar with the four Hogwarts houses, so they formed preconceived notions very early on.
From a young age, he had heard plenty of negative opinions about Slytherin from his family and elders.
Coupled with Malfoy and his gang opposing them every day, it wasn’t surprising he had prejudice against Slytherin.
Stereotypes formed over years couldn’t possibly be reversed in just a few days.
Though…
strictly speaking, Ron wasn’t wrong.
Caelan wasn’t any different from other Slytherins; in fact, one could say he was even more pure in his ruthlessness.
He was just good at pretending.
“Alright, don’t be angry.” Caelan winked at Hermione.
“I’ll take you somewhere fun.” “You don’t mean the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor, do you?” Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, turning her head to warn him.
“That’s a forbidden area.” “No, don’t worry.” “Then where is it?” “It’s a secret for now.
It won’t be a surprise if I tell you now.
Besides, we need to check on Neville first.” Hermione nodded.
“I hope he’s alright.” The two walked together toward the Hogwarts hospital wing.
Along the way, they discussed how to comfort Neville when they saw him.
In the end, they decided that above all, they must not laugh.
The Hogwarts hospital wing was well-equipped, capable of treating most ordinary or magical illnesses and injuries, including mending broken bones or growing missing ones.
Only severe conditions would be transferred to St.
Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
A minor accident during the brewing of a Cure for Boils potion was something the hospital wing could handle completely on its own.
Caelan stepped into the hospital wing and found two wailing students lying on hospital beds inside.
They were still wearing Quidditch uniforms, likely having fallen during practice.
A tall witch was treating them.
That must be Madam Pomfrey.
Oddly enough, several young wizards had been sent over during Potions class, but now only Neville was still lying on a bed.
The others were nowhere to be seen.
Right now, Neville had a piece of white cloth over his face, leaving only his eyes exposed to stare at the ceiling.
“Neville, how are you feeling?” Caelan walked up to the bed.
“Oh, Caelan, and Hermione.
Why are you here?” Neville tilted his head, looking at them with his exposed eyes.
“I mean, I’m okay.
Madam Pomfrey gave me preliminary treatment.
Now I just need to apply some salve.” “Where are the others?” Hermione glanced at the other beds.
“Weren’t you sent here first?
How come they left before you?” If it weren’t for the white cloth…
Well, even without the cloth, the two wouldn’t be able to tell that Neville was blushing right now.
After all, the boils on his face were already red enough.
Neville looked at the ceiling with a guilty conscience, faltering for a long time without explaining the reason.
“Alright, Mr.
Longbottom.
This is the last bottle of boil potion.
Remember, this is for topical application—do not drink it again.
Otherwise, you’d have been cured long ago.” Madam Pomfrey handed a bottle of potion to Neville as she walked past the bed.
“Madam Pomfrey!” Neville turned red with embarrassment upon being exposed to his face.
“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t notice your friends were here.” Just as Madam Pomfrey finished speaking, another young wizard was brought in.
She hurriedly turned and jogged over, muttering continuously: “Another one!
What are the professors at Hogwarts doing?
Absolutely irresponsible!” “Oh, poor child…” It was clear that Madam Pomfrey’s good mood was inversely proportional to the number of students brought to the hospital wing.
The fewer young wizards brought in, the happier she was.
With so many people here now, her mood was quite foul.
Seeing the potion bottle Madam Pomfrey stuffed into Neville’s hands, Caelan and Hermione exchanged a look, turning around with tacit understanding.
Both of their shoulders trembled uncontrollably.
After a good while, the two grinned and turned back around.
“Were you two laughing just now?” Neville asked.
“No,” Caelan and Hermione shook their heads in unison.
“Really?” Neville asked again.
“Of course not.” The two nodded with firm conviction.
“Rather than that, let me help you apply the potion,” Caelan smoothly shifted the topic.
He took the potion from Neville’s hand and lifted the white cloth covering his face.
“Whoa…” Hermione couldn’t help letting out a gasp.
The boils on Neville’s face were red and swollen, distorting half of his face.
Looking closely, a thin layer of pus was slowly oozing out of the boils.
No wonder he wanted to cover his face with a white cloth—it really was a bit revolting.
However, Caelan didn’t mind at all.
Using cotton gauze from the side, he cleaned off the pus for Neville and began applying the medicine.
He frowned slightly, his expression serious and his movements gentle, without the slightest hint of aversion.
Watching from the side, Hermione thought Caelan was truly far too kind.
“Sob…
thank you, Caelan.” Neville was moved to tears.
“Remember what I said a few days ago?” Caelan asked.
“Huh?” Neville was startled by the question.
“I said we’re friends.
Since we’re friends, there’s no need to be so polite.” Caelan smiled at him and continued applying the potion.
He noticed that the potion Madam Pomfrey provided was extremely effective.
The skin where the potion had just been applied quickly returned to normal.
This surprised him inside—Madam Pomfrey’s medical skill was no joke.
No wonder there were rumors that St.
Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries had invited her to join them multiple times, promising her the position of Deputy Healer-in-Charge, but Madam Pomfrey had adamantly refused.
Even so, St.
Mungo’s still welcomed her anytime and reserved the position of Deputy Healer-in-Charge for her.
As for the reasons behind it, no one could say for sure.
Hearing Caelan’s words, Neville shed tears of gratitude.
*Caelan really is my good friend!* Just as he was overcome with emotion, he suddenly heard Caelan say, “Once I finish applying your medicine, I’ll take you somewhere.
I got a greenhouse for you there so you can cultivate herbs yourself in the future.” “Neville, you have talent.
If it went to waste, my heart would break.” Of course his heart would break.
If Neville’s talent went to waste, he’d lose a talented source of free labor, and later he might not be able to easily procure rare and valuable plants.
Not profiting was a loss.
If he truly lost out, it would be a massive loss.
That was something Caelan could not tolerate.
“Thank you, thank you, Caelan,” Neville choked out.
Apart from his family, no one had ever valued him this much.
Someone as outstanding as Caelan was not only willing to be friends with him, but also helped him apply medicine without showing any disgust, and even kept his studies and future in mind.
This made him feel like the happiest person in the world.
Could you find a better friend than Caelan in this world?
He was looking out for him in every possible way!
“This friendship—I, Neville Longbottom, am forging it for life!” Neville swore silently in his heart.
Pledging on the bloodline and honor of the Longbottom family, he was determined to study Herbology well and never disappoint Caelan’s expectations.
Even Hermione, standing nearby, couldn’t help sighing with emotion.
Caelan was just too wonderful, considering his friends in every detail.
How could such a good person exist?
She really didn’t know how Slytherin House got so lucky to have a student like Caelan.
After applying the potion, the boils on Neville’s face quickly vanished.
“Madam Pomfrey, thank you for curing my friend.
Goodbye.” Caelan politely greeted Madam Pomfrey.
“Oh, you’re welcome.
Be careful in the future.” Madam Pomfrey had noticed the young boy helping Neville apply the potion earlier.
Now, as he left, he even remembered to say goodbye to her.
She immediately felt that this child was a kind, polite, and good boy.
This vastly increased Madam Pomfrey’s goodwill toward Caelan.
“Let me take you guys there.
We need to find the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls before we can find that place.”