"Well, you can't say that," Harry said, spreading his hands. "After all, Trelawney's great-grandmother was quite impressive. Cassandra Trelawney, the Prophet, was quite famous back in the day."
"Perhaps," Hermione suddenly took on a materialist approach, "Compared to the ethereal Divination, I trust predictions based on facts more. That's real science."
On Wednesday morning, Harry attended his last class before the competition.
It was Professor Bin's History of Magic.
History of Magic was still as boring as ever. Professor Bin's voice seemed to possess a certain magic power that made even a studious Hermione drowsy during class.
Of course, Professor Bin was quite open-minded about students sleeping in class, showing a remarkable tolerance.
Or maybe he just didn't want to bother.
After all, History of Magic is just about understanding some historical aspects of the Magic World, not an important Spell Class. Study if you want, or don't if you don't feel like it.
Besides, Dumbledore doesn't pay him a salary, so why should he care so much?
At noon, the school announced a pause in classes, and the first task of the Triwizard Tournament would start in the afternoon.
Everyone was incredibly excited, chatting enthusiastically. Some even came to Harry's side to cheer him on or say some encouraging words.
Harry took a few bites of food and thanked them, his gaze wandering, looking for Cassandra.
Actually, he hoped Cassandra would come over and tell him to be safe or say something else, even if she haughtily said, 'I've prepared a bunch of tissues to cry for you, Potter,' it wouldn't be unacceptable.
Though the imagined Cassandra was very proud and haughty, in reality...
"Oh, Potter."
Cassandra's voice suddenly sounded beside him.
Harry raised his head and met Cassandra's beautiful eyes.
Today she wore a fitted green jacket with a white shirt underneath—compared to Pabi and Vivi, she didn't have a proud bosom, just as flat as a cat scratching board...
But her legs were pretty, long, white, and straight—Harry had touched them.
Harry looked down and saw the knee-length skirt Cassandra was wearing. To keep warm, she wore long black cotton socks over her long legs, but her skirt was so long that Harry couldn't determine if those were knee socks or tights.
"What are you looking at, Potter?"
Cassandra's voice carried some teasing.
She wasn't angry about Harry's bold gaze; instead, she was quite pleased.
The silly boy finally starting to understand feelings is always a good thing.
"Looking at the legs," Harry thought, and said.
Down below, the scarred head.
"Oh, it seems you still have leisure for such things," Cassandra said disdainfully, "I thought you'd be really nervous. Seems like you aren't taking the first task seriously at all—"
"Not really." Harry raised his head. "I was quite nervous, but after seeing you, I'm not anymore."
Beside him, a few friends—Ron, Seamus, and the Weasley Twins—gasped instantly.
Learn from him, Mr. Savior not only excels in magic spells, but his eloquence is truly admirable.
Seeing Harry's words, satisfaction flashed in Cassandra's eyes.
"Huh, just know how to say nice things." Cassandra sat next to Harry. "I've already heard from Pabi about—you know, I believe those small dragons aren't your match, Harry... If you get burnt, I won't cry for you; I'll laugh loudly."
"Alright, it seems you have great confidence in me." Harry shrugged. "Seems like our friendship has stood the test of time."
Cassandra mockingly asked, "Just the test of time?"
"Much more," Harry politely smiled at Colin who was taking his picture, then said to Cassandra, "You should have received the news, right? The recently explosive news... I really can't understand why the German Ministry of Magic and the Austrian Ministry of Magic suddenly announced a merger..."
"It doesn't concern us," Cassandra said indifferently. "It's Grindelwald's own business; she wants to rebuild Great Germany, but that's a fantasy— I don't think Muggles or the American Magic Congress would sit idly by and let her mess around."
"You don't need to worry too much," Cassandra continued, "Someone of her caliber, stirring up trouble is her talent..."
"..."
"What's wrong?" Cassandra asked.
"I don't know what to say." Harry sighed, "Maybe you're right. Worrying about Vivi isn't what I should be doing now; I should focus on the Triwizard Tournament."
"That's right, Potter." Cassandra said satisfactorily, "I hope you win; I've already prepared your reward—"
"What is it?" Harry instantly got excited.
"Cassandra's reward... Could it be rewarding me...?"
However, Cassandra didn't answer him but put a finger on Harry's lips.
"Don't ask," Cassandra said with a soft smile, "If you know in advance, there won't be enough surprise, don't you think, Mr. Potter?"
"Alright." Harry shrugged, not asking. Anyway, there will be a result in the competition soon, can't escape.
At this moment, Professor McGonagall hurriedly walked in from outside the hall.