Chapter 45: Dumbledore Felt Exhausted

“Oh! My Merlin!”

Hagrid stood frozen on the path, arms full of food parcels, having just come from the gamekeeper’s grounds and heading to patrol around the school and the Forbidden Forest.

Some young wizards always liked to appear in this area.

He enjoyed patrolling while eating.

But today was undoubtedly the most shocking day since Hagrid became Gamekeeper!

He saw a massive tree spirit!

Beneath the tree spirit stood a student—not harmed, but behaving with extreme docility!

“What on earth is this thing?” Hagrid set down his food and tried to move closer to Chu Yang, but the Whomping Willow mistook him for an attacker and swung a branch that sent the half-giant flying!

Hagrid crashed straight into the nearby bushes.

Seeing Hagrid flung away, Chu Yang cut off his magical output, grabbed a branch of the Whomping Willow in anger, and snapped: “Don’t Itachi dare hit people without cause!”

The sudden cutoff of magic caused the newly formed “intelligence” of the Whomping Willow to panic and rage; instinctively, it coiled its branches around Chu Yang, forcing him to produce more magic for itself.

“I’ll give Itachi what I want Itachi to have—Itachi wait if I don’t want to give it!” Chu Yang had always hated pets that gorged themselves daily but turned on their masters at critical moments.

Guard-dogs that bit their owners—he’d beaten one every time he saw it, to teach them what “master” meant.

While Hagrid was still tangled in the bushes, Chu Yang tore the branches off his body, leapt forward, and landed beside the Whomping Willow, delivering a powerful, crushing [Jiao Wa Zheng Quan] straight to its trunk!

Crack~

The Whomping Willow’s trunk shattered like a broken mirror, cracks radiating outward from the fist imprint Chu Yang left.

The terror of death made the Whomping Willow’s nascent “intelligence” feel overwhelming threat; like an animal, it trembled and crawled to the ground in submission.

Chu Yang spared its life then.

He used magic to heal the surface cracks on its body—a slap followed by a sweet date.

“It’s got incredible strength,” Hagrid groaned, crawling out of the bushes.

Even with his build, the blow had left him dizzy and disoriented.

But his curiosity about the Whomping Willow temporarily overrode all physical discomfort; he staggered forward.

“Can Itachi calm your pet? I mean no harm!” Hagrid shouted to Chu Yang.

“It’s fine, come over,” Chu Yang explained. “This is the school’s Whomping Willow—not my pet.”

“Whomping Willow?” Hagrid stared, dumbfounded, at the tree now nearly twice its original size, muttering: “Are Itachi kidding me? This thing is a Whomping Willow? More like a Killing Willow…”

Hearing Hagrid’s unfriendly remark,

the Whomping Willow shook its massive body in protest.

“Oh! Oh! Calm down! Calm down!”

Hagrid raised both hands, begging frantically—he didn’t want another swing.

The next second, the Whomping Willow fell silent.

“It understands me?” Hagrid blinked, then broke into ecstatic delight. “It’s communicating with me! This goes beyond plant behavior—it’s an animal! A magical creature!”

As a fanatic lover of magical creatures, Hagrid instantly adored this tree and generously forgave it for hitting him earlier!

Hitting is love, scolding is care—it was just a little display of affection, not even painful!

Hagrid thought, grimacing as he pressed his wounds.

He rushed over to Chu Yang, hugged the trunk, and happily rubbed against it.

Pure stalker behavior—it made Chu Yang’s skin crawl.

The Whomping Willow didn’t seem pleased either; it stood up shakily and shook its body like shaking off lice, trying to dislodge Hagrid.

Hagrid tumbled head over heels to the ground, grimacing as he looked up.

He saw Chu Yang completely protected by the branches—unharmed.

“How can it treat us so differently?” Hagrid grieved, staring at the Whomping Willow. He’d forgiven it, yet got nothing in return?

Under the fading sunset, several figures were approaching.

“Mr. Chu Yang, I’m glad to see Itachi unharmed—but could Itachi explain why the Whomping Willow I planted has become like this?” Dumbledore walked slowly forward in his silver robes, Professor McGonagall following behind.

Chu Yang leapt down from the Whomping Willow and bowed slightly before Dumbledore. “I’m not entirely sure of the cause, but my magic must have affected it, Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Magic?” Dumbledore suddenly understood, then said with a complex expression: “It seems we’ve underestimated your magic—its influence on plants, especially rare magical flora.”

“When Sprout told me about your performance at the wand shop, I should’ve realized this—I was negligent…”

As he spoke, Dumbledore walked toward the Whomping Willow, his starry eyes scanning its condition.

Professor McGonagall and Chu Yang followed in silence.

The day’s shocks had left the elderly deputy headmaster mentally and physically drained.

Professor McGonagall looked as if she’d aged years.

She lacked the energy to argue with Chu Yang, but still praised him: “In that crisis, Itachi gave your classmates the chance to escape and drew the Whomping Willow away alone. Though reckless, it was a noble act—Slytherin gains ten points.”

Dumbledore suddenly turned back and smiled: “I’ll add another ten points to Slytherin personally—Itachi haven’t disappointed me, Mr. Chu Yang.”

Chu Yang shrugged. “Thank Itachi, Headmaster and Professor. I’m sure Slytherin students will be delighted.”

“Yesterday it was the Sorting Hat, today it’s the Whomping Willow—Itachi always surprise me. But Mr. Chu Yang, I sincerely hope tomorrow I hear Itachi’re quietly attending class. That’s the wish of a Company Commander.”

The moment before, Dumbledore had been gentle; now he turned stern, warning: “And don’t let your classmates sleep on the floor—if Itachi keep this up, the second-floor infirmary beds won’t be enough!”

“In just two days, Slytherin’s sick students have filled the hospital to bursting! Do Itachi want to cripple the school infirmary?”

Chu Yang shrugged, looking utterly innocent. “I can’t control this—it depends on whether they’ll behave. After all, I didn’t start the fights, and Itachi’re the one who told me to fight back. Unless Itachi give me a single room.”

Dumbledore fell silent, feeling utterly exhausted.

He thought perhaps he’d never should’ve advised Chu Yang to join Slytherin.

He’d assumed Chu Yang would use his talent to slowly change Slytherin’s views on Muggles, reshaping their arrogant self-regard—but instead, the boy used fists!

Fighting was a talent too—simple, brutal.

Wizards solving problems without wands—

close-combat wizards, then.

(End of Chapter)