"Look! Our rising star is here!"
Fred's shout pulled Ron out of his strange mood. He looked up and saw Dana walk into the Great Hall.
The Gryffindor students cheered—apparently, most of them already knew the results of yesterday's game.
From a feared Azkaban graduate to a beloved Quidditch star, it seemed there was only a Quidditch match in between.
From this, we can conclude that the influence of the Quidditch League is greater than Azkaban.
Dana smiled and waved to everyone, sitting in his usual spot—at the end of the Gryffindor table.
Fred and George rushed over, shaking him vigorously, while the other frantically ruffled his hair, turning his white hair into a mess of spikes.
"You were amazing, Dana! You pulled off something huge without making a sound!"
"It's just a pity your performance couldn't add points to Gryffindor. If it could, I think it would be worth a hundred points!"
"Oh, a hundred points! That's how many times we could get caught sneaking out at night!"
"Five seconds! Merlin's beard, Dana, you're the strongest Seeker I've ever seen!"
Dana shook his head and said softly:
"George, actually, Merlin doesn't have a beard anymore."
"What? What did you say?"
"No, it's nothing. I was just lucky, purely by chance."
Fred patted Dana on the back forcefully:
"Don't say that! Among so many Seekers, I haven't seen anyone else 'accidentally' catch the Golden Snitch in five seconds!"
George nodded in agreement:
"That's right! That Roderick Plumpton's record was truly accidental. He just wanted to fly in front of his girlfriend and kiss her—who knew the Golden Snitch would fly right past their lips, and he'd catch it perfectly!"
Dana didn't know about such apocryphal stories, especially coming from George. The original half of the truth probably had to be halved again.
He laughed with the twins for a while and said:
"Fred, George, you guys are clinging to me so much that I can't even eat—we have Potions class this morning. You don't want Snape to deduct points from Gryffindor because I'm late, do you?"
The twins laughed and let Dana go, but Dana still couldn't eat properly, because he suddenly became a rare commodity, and small wizards kept coming up to him wanting to get to know him.
Dana, who everyone had previously avoided, instantly became a popular figure.
Fortunately, he wasn't late, but he could very clearly, very obviously feel that Mr. Harry Potter seemed to be deliberately staying away from him.
This was something Snape was very happy to see. When he saw Harry preferring to sit in the first row rather than being near Dana Emrys, he unconsciously raised the corners of his mouth by half a centimeter.
In this class, Snape rarely didn't make things difficult for Harry Potter, which seemed to give Harry the illusion that as long as he stayed away from Dana, his luck would improve.
Of course, Dana didn't really care what Harry thought. If he had to say who he truly recognized as friends at Hogwarts, it would actually only be the twins.
If a source of trouble like Harry was willing to be friends with him, that was fine—but if he wasn't willing, he wouldn't force it.
The Hogwarts life now, in the end, was just a guise for Dana to completely separate himself from the identity of Dark Dentes.
After Potions class, the little wizards rushed out of the classroom in a swarm, heading toward the Great Hall. Time passed so quickly—it seemed like they had just finished breakfast and were immediately going to eat lunch.
Dana walked through the castle, sunlight shining on the walls from the high windows, making the portraits on the walls half bright and half shadowed. Portraits that liked sunlight craned their necks, while those who didn't like sunlight bent down to avoid the light.
"Mr. Emrys!"
A voice called out to Dana.
Dana looked in the direction of the voice and saw Professor Quirinus Quirrell standing at the corner, looking at him with a smile.
Professor Quirrell looked much worse than when school started in September—his face was pale, and his forehead was lightly covered with a sheen of sweat.
"Professor Quirrell, hello."
Dana was neither servile nor overbearing, but he unconsciously held his breath when speaking—the rotten stench could no longer be concealed even with garlic.
"Dana, I'd like to have a chat with you. Could you come to my office?"
"Of course, Professor."
—This was a development not present in the original work.
Quirrell had no reason to look for him, so the one who really wanted to talk to him was probably the one behind his head.
Dana wasn't afraid. This was Hogwarts—the safest place in the British wizarding world.
With his combat power exceeding 7 Lu, even if Quirrell's body was personally controlled by the Dark Lord, it wouldn't be so easy to kill him instantly. As long as he made some noise and held on for a while, Dumbledore would arrive in no time.
Besides, with Quirrell's current weak body, even the Dark Lord possessing him probably wouldn't be his opponent.
Closing the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, Quirrell pointed to a sofa,
"Please sit down, Mr. Emrys."
Dana sat down and asked:
"Professor Quirrell, I wonder what you wanted to see me about? I remember I handed in my Defense Against the Dark Arts assignments on time."
"Oh, Dana,"
Quirrell smiled and sat behind the desk,
"Your assignments are always the best among the little wizards. Don't worry about those things—I didn't call you here for that."
Dana didn't speak, tilting his head slightly.
Quirrell raised his eyebrows:
"It's like this, Dana, I'm very worried about you right now."
"Worried about what, Professor?"
"Worried that your status as a professional Quidditch player will cause you harm."
"I don't understand, Professor."
"It's like this—because of your special nature—child, you know what I mean—the little wizards at school have always been ostracizing you. They've labeled you, subjected you to cold violence, and even if you do your best, it's all in vain."
"That's how it is, Professor, but I still don't understand."
"Dana, as a professor at the school, I'm the one who's most discriminated against by everyone. Everyone laughs at me—you know—the stuttering Professor Quirrell, the rigid Professor Quirrell, the cowardly Professor Quirrell…
These are all prejudices, because that's not what I'm really like. There are reasons for all of this.
But everyone won't listen to my explanations, because prejudice is the hardest thing to eliminate.
Now that you've become a professional player and played an exciting, good game, this has greatly changed the little wizards' perception of you, making them willing to be close to you and associate with you—but this is just an illusion—"
Seeing Dana listening carefully, Quirrell nodded with satisfaction and continued,
"As I said, prejudice is the hardest thing to eliminate. They will approach you because of your achievements, but their prejudice against you always exists—
Child, if you give them your true heart, let down your guard, then their prejudice will hurt you severely when you're off guard!"
Dana nodded. He knew these things even without Quirrell saying them. The Azkaban label would follow him for the rest of his life. Even if he saved the world, people would think: "Although this guy saved us, who knows when he'll betray us? After all, he was locked up in Azkaban for four whole years—a tiger may look docile, but it's still a tiger!"
He asked:
"Professor Quirrell, you're right. I'll be careful. Thank you very much for your reminder. I think I should go to the Great Hall now."
"Not so fast, child. Actually, I hope you can completely resolve everyone's prejudice against you."
End of the Chapter.
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