Who let this evil dragon into Hogwarts!

Chapter 15 Talented Individuals Are Forbidden to Talk About Inspiration!

Everything that happened in the lounge.

Poisson neither knew nor cared.

The only thing he cared about was Dumbledore's attitude.

"A disarming spell did no harm, so Dumbledore shouldn't consider me a dangerous individual."

"As for the hostility of others? A bunch of guys who can't even break through defenses, no matter how angry they are, they'll just do some dirty tricks behind my back."

"However, just to be on the safe side, it would be best to have someone keep an eye on things..."

Thinking of this, Posson opened the suitcase that had been delivered to his dormitory in advance. A rough little hand tried to crawl out, but was smashed back down by a hammer the next second.

"Ahem, Potato, mission complete, you can release them now." Persson coughed, and the sturdiest goblin crawled out carrying an iron hammer, his face full of regret.

"Potato, you're bad!"

The little goblin who had pulled Charlie's nose hairs followed closely behind, blowing on his swollen little hand, his beady eyes darting around, ready to retaliate at any moment.

"Little Bean, I have a task for you."

Persson interrupted the goblin's little thoughts and handed it a few sheets of paper.

"Lead a group of goblins to thoroughly explore the entire castle and the forest outside it, and draw everything down on paper."

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

DouDing, speaking halting English, saluted Boson.

"Oh, right," Poisson drew a bearded old man on the paper, "keep a close eye on this man and find out where he usually hangs out."

"If you are unfortunately discovered, remember, never admit that I sent you!"

"If he's discovered, kill him!"

DouDing misinterpreted Persson's meaning, and despite several attempts to correct him, he couldn't get it right. Persson simply gave up and figured Dumbledore wouldn't really take a little goblin seriously.

Goblins are all skilled diggers, and with the help of tools, they quickly used their small chisels to carve out a tunnel under the Poisson bed. The cleverest little goblins even put up a picture of a mother goblin in front of the tunnel entrance to avoid being seen.

Until all the goblins were mobilized, the knocking gradually split into three streams, and finally disappeared completely.

Goblins are magical creatures; even in places they've never been before, they can sense the landscape and easily avoid others.

The wizards were able to spot the goblins purely because of their excessive curiosity and their forgetful nature.

Fortunately, after being hung from the tree and whipped a few times, the goblin of Poisson knew very well what he should and shouldn't do, so he didn't have to worry about being discovered.

"Now, let's wait for DouDing to send us good news..."

Persson was lying on the soft bed when he suddenly heard footsteps outside the door.

Looking up, Crabbe and Goyle were the first to push open the door, their wizard robes tattered and their faces bearing several scratches.

Instead of rushing into the dormitory, they waited like loyal guards for Malfoy to go first.

Boom!Boom!

Malfoy's steps became light and heavy, and his aggressive demeanor was gone, completely abandoning the dignity of a pureblood.

His eyes were bruised, a tuft of hair looked like it had been pulled out, and his mouth was crooked, indicating that he had just been punched hard.

"Young Master Malfoy, let's go to the infirmary first."

Gore whispered his advice, his tone even more respectful than before.

"No," Malfoy stubbornly shook his head, merely tidying his disheveled hair, and limped over to Persson.

"I won," he straightened his back, trying to keep his voice clear even though his mouth was twitching from the pain. "Without relying on any cronies, I defeated everyone with my own strength. Gemma said I'm the champion of this year."

"Uh...congratulations?"

Poisson didn't understand why he had to come and show off in front of him.

"Sooner or later, I will defeat you."

Malfoy spoke earnestly, his eyes sparkling with a light he had never seen before.

"Then, become the true chief!"

……

"Everyone, come and see!"

On Friday, during the Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall held up the silver needles that Poisson had conjured from matches, a rare smile appearing on her face.

"Look at the pattern on the needle tip. Mr. Poisson not only painted a fire dragon, but even the scales of the fire dragon are lifelike. It is hard to imagine that this is the work of a newcomer."

"Mr. Persson, did anyone teach you Transfiguration before the start of the semester?"

Persson humbly shook his head: "No one, but I practiced for a few days after receiving the textbook. Hard work always pays off."

Hearing such an infuriating remark, both Slytherin and Ravenclaw young wizards were practically grinding their teeth in frustration.

Will hard work pay off?

Only practiced for a few days, what kind of effort is that?!

Especially the Slytherin snakes, most of whom come from wizarding families, whose parents taught them various basic magic from an early age, just to give their children a head start.

As a result, they got a year ahead, but were caught up by others in just a few days, and were even left far behind.

Those with extraordinary talent are not allowed to talk about inspiration!

Malfoy looked at the silver needles on his desk that could still be lit, and then thought of his boastful words from a few days ago. An unnatural blush rose on his face, and he wished he could turn himself into a needle.

"Fantastic magic! Slytherin, five points!"

Professor McGonagall was oblivious to the stares of the others; her thoughts drifted back to the time before the start of the semester when Dumbledore requested that Poisson be added to the Sorting List.

Because Persson's name wasn't on the Book of Admission, she had initially suspected he might be a Squib, but now it seems this child's spellcasting ability far surpasses that of ordinary people.

It's a pity she went to Slytherin...

Professor McGonagall's heart pounded at the thought that Severus had already deducted two points from Gryffindor, and that she would have to add five points to Slytherin's score.

Farewell, Gryffindor's House Cup...

……

After class, the atmosphere in both colleges was somewhat gloomy. Even the upcoming relaxing and enjoyable holiday couldn't rouse these self-important children who had been thoroughly crushed by a true genius for the first time.

Malfoy lingered in the classroom, obsessively waving his wand, trying to conjure up a dragon pattern similar to Poisson's.

As for Poisson himself...

Naturally, they ran away early.

Although he still had some questions to ask Professor McGonagall, he had important business to attend to today. After the goblins had drawn up a map of the interior of Hogwarts, he finally had a general understanding of the Forbidden Forest.

"The castle is Dumbledore's territory. Moving portraits are almost everywhere, and ghosts wander through the rooms. You have to be careful if you want to do anything."

"But the Forbidden Forest is different. No matter how powerful Dumbledore is, he can't possibly oversee every piece of land. The Emerald Lord's territory might begin here..."

Even before entering Hogwarts, Persson had already determined the route of the forest surrounding the castle, and deliberately sent Bean to scout out a suitable place to be his territory.

Just then, a small head suddenly poked out from the crack in the rock, making noises:

"Your Majesty, something terrible has happened!"

"Goblins, stealing our territory! Bad!"