Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 480 Marietta's Change

As the OWL exams approach, Hermione isn't the only one behaving strangely. Ernie Macmillan has developed an increasingly annoying habit of asking about other people's study schedules.

"How many hours do you think you can study a day?" he asked Harry and Ron anxiously as they lined up for Herbology class.

“I don’t know,” Ron said casually, “maybe a few hours.”

"Is it more or less than eight hours?"

“I think it should be less,” Ron said, a hint of wariness in his eyes.

“I can study for eight hours,” Ernie said, puffing out his chest. “Eight to nine hours. I study for an hour before breakfast every day, so that’s an average of eight hours. If all goes well, I can study for ten hours on weekends. I studied for nine and a half hours on Monday, Tuesday wasn’t so good—only seven hours and fifteen minutes, and then Wednesday—”

At this point, Professor Sprout led the three of them into the greenhouse, forcing Ernie to stop his monologue, much to Harry's relief. Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy devised another way to scare people.

“Of course, it’s not a matter of good or bad grades.” Just days before the exam, someone overheard him loudly telling Crabbe and Goyle outside the Potions classroom, “You need connections. Now, my dad has been on good terms with the head of the Wizarding Exams Authority for years, old Gersdale Damachban. We’ve had dinner with her, and things are all—”

"Do you really think such a thing is possible?" Hermione asked Harry and Ron in a panicked whisper.

“Even if it’s true, there’s nothing we can do,” Ron said dejectedly.

“I don’t think so,” Neville said softly behind them. “Grossdamer Machiban is my grandmother’s friend, and she has never mentioned the Malfoys.”

“What’s she like, Neville?” Hermione asked immediately. “Is she strict?”

“She looks a bit like Grandma, really,” Neville said in a low voice.

“Even so, getting to know her isn’t a bad thing, is it?” Ron encouraged him.

“Sigh, I don’t think there’s any difference,” Neville said, sounding even sadder. “Grandma always told Professor Marchban that I wasn’t as good as my father… Well… you saw what kind of person my grandma was in St. Mungo’s.”

Neville stared intently at the ground.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, unsure of what to say.

A thriving black market has emerged among fifth and seventh graders seeking to improve their concentration, mental acuity, and sleep quality.

Eddie Mitchell, a sixth-year student at Ravenclaw, wants to sell Harry and Ron a bottle of Bafite Mind-Boosting Potion, which they are very interested in.

Eddie confidently asserted that he achieved nine "excellent" grades in the OWLs exam last summer, all thanks to this, and that a whole pint only cost twelve gallons.

Ron promised Harry that he would return his half of the money to him as soon as he left Hogwarts and found a job, but before they could make the deal, Hermione confiscated Camiche's bottle and poured its contents into the toilet.

“Hermione, we want to buy it!” Ron shouted in dissatisfaction.

“Don’t be silly!” Hermione scolded sternly. “You might even be thinking of buying Harold Dingo’s Dragon Claw Powder and then using it all up.”

"Ding Ge has dragon claw powder?" Ron asked eagerly.

“There aren’t any now,” Hermione said. “I confiscated them too. These things don’t work, you know.” “Dragon Claw Powder really does!” Ron said. “It works remarkably well, it really improves your memory, and for a few hours your mind is especially sharp—Hermione, may I have a little bit, please? It won’t do any harm—”

“This stuff is harmful,” Hermione said sternly. “And I’ve looked closely; it’s actually dried mermaid dung.”

Upon hearing this, Harry and Ron became less interested in the mind-clearing potion.

Just as they left the black market trading area, preparing to return to the library to study a little longer—

"Harry, Harry!" A piercing scream drew Harry, Ron, and Hermione's attention back to the black market trading area.

A strange girl ran towards them.

The girl was roughly the same age as them and looked somewhat familiar, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione swore they had never seen her in their five years at Hogwarts.

"Harry! Harry!" The girl ran up to them, crying horribly, looking as if she had committed some heinous crime.

"Hermione, please help me, please help me!" The girl grabbed Hermione's sleeve as if grasping at a straw, sobbing and pleading, "I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm sorry, I was wrong, I was wrong... I shouldn't have told on you, I shouldn't have... um... um... um..."

After saying that, the girl burst into tears, which made Harry and Ron look at each other in bewilderment.

"You, you are, you are Marietta?" Hermione exclaimed in shock after carefully observing the girl. "You are Marietta Eckmore?"

It wasn't until Hermione called out that Harry and Ron realized that the girl in front of them did indeed resemble Marietta, the snitch, but was also completely different—

Marietta Eckmore was originally a short, somewhat stocky girl with freckles on her face and a head of slightly fluffy reddish-brown curly hair.

But now Marietta's hair was black and smooth, her freckles had disappeared, replaced by a pale, almost sickly complexion, the lines between her eyebrows and eyes seemed to have become somewhat harsh, and she had grown taller, becoming almost as tall as Harry. Her figure under the wide wizard's robes was more like that of a boy—

Only then did Harry, Ron, and Hermione understand where that familiar feeling about Marietta came from—

That's what Tiera looks like.

For some reason, Marietta is starting to look more and more like Thiella.

Although Harry, Ron, and Hermione could all see the original Marietta in her, that resemblance was gradually diminishing and weakening.

Meanwhile, the characteristics belonging to Tiera are being enhanced.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm sorry, Harry, please, please... please tell Tyella, I beg you, please plead with Tyella, okay?" Marietta was so anxious she almost knelt down. "I was wrong, I was wrong, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have told on you, please, tell Tyella, let him—"

Suddenly, Marietta froze, all expression vanishing from her face in an instant. If it weren't for the tear stains on her face, it would be hard to imagine that her expressionless face had just been crying.

Marietta stood up stiffly like a marionette.

“Betrayal always comes at a price, Miss Ekmo,” a man’s voice came from Marietta.

(End of this chapter)