"There's no way he's coming in through the passages," Harry said quickly, "and there are seven secret passages on the map, right?" Fred and George reckon Filch probably knew about four of them. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 info The other three, one has collapsed, and no one can get in through that passage. The entrance of one was planted with the beating willow, and you can't get out if you go in. The one I just walked by, well, it's really hard to see where its entrance is in the cellar, so unless he knows there's this secret passage......"

"Yes, of course he would. Vio chimed in and said she felt the need to point out something in this place that they had overlooked for so long. "If Aunt Sigoness's message from the Ministry of Magic is correct, I think Black was a classmate of Harry's father, and he was a good one."

"What?" Harry glared at Vio with wide eyes, instantly forgetting all the words he had been racking his mind to convince Hermione to promise to leave the map. "What do you mean I, my dad, and Blake are classmates?"

Vio nodded, "Yes, that's all I know, and my aunt won't tell me more." ”

Hermione's thick brows furrowed together, and she began to think.

Now, Harry hesitated, if Blake did know that there was such a passage, and if so, would his father have told Blake? He had heard Professor McGonagall accidentally recall that his father was very fond of adventure, however, Ron cleared his throat and pointed to a notice posted on the inside of the candy store's door.

Patrons are ordered by the Ministry of Magic to be aware that until further notice, Dementors will patrol the streets of Hogsmeade every day after sunset. This was done purely for the safety of the inhabitants of Hogsmeade, and was canceled once Sirius Black was recaptured. Customers are encouraged to complete their purchases before the evening.

Merry Christmas

"See?" Ron said quietly, "there are Dementors everywhere, and I'd like to see how Blake can break into a candy store under such circumstances." Anyway, Hermione, the candy store owner always hears someone break in, right? They live upstairs from the candy store!"

"Yes, though, but ......" Hermione seemed to be trying to pick a thorn from somewhere.

"Look, Harry still shouldn't have come to Hogsmeade, he hasn't handed in the signed application form, if anyone finds out that Harry is here, Harry will be in big trouble, and it's still light, if Sirius Black shows up today, right now, he's not the same as Vio, no one wants to chase Vio"

"It won't be easy for him to find out that Harry is here. Ron said, nodding through the mullioned window to the snow outside.

"Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas, and Harry should relax. ”

Hermione bit her lip and looked worried.

"Are you going to denounce me?" asked Harry casually. "I want you to think about it, Blake is my dad's classmate, and Blake is looking for me now, and Blake is also a fugitive who killed thirteen Muggles and blew up a street"

"Oh, of course not, but honestly, Harry......"

"I'll come back again, maybe it's best to meet Blake. Harry interrupted Hermione and said firmly, "I think there must be something wrong with this. ”

Hermione panicked.

"See that bee candy, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing Harry and leading him to the vat. "And that jelly slug, and that sour lollipop, Fred gave me one when I was seven years old, and it burned a hole in my tongue. I remember my mom beating Fred with a broom. ”

Ron looked pensively at the cardboard box where the sour lollipops were placed. "If I told Fred that it was a peanut, would he have taken a bite of the cockroach gnocchi?"

But Harry was clearly not in the mood, and the four of them then walked out of the candy store.

Hogsmeade looks like a Christmas card: huts and shops are covered in crunchy snow, wreaths of holly are tied on their doors, and enchanted candles hang in bunches from trees.

Harry had been shaking on the road, he wasn't wearing a cloak.

They walked the streets, keeping their heads down to ward off the cold wind.

Ron and Hermione shouted through their scarves.

"That's the post office?"

"Jokowi's shop is over there?"

"Can we go to that screaming shack?"

"Tell you what to do," said Ron, his teeth chattering with cold, "shall we go to three broomsticks and drink butterbeer?"

Harry couldn't have been more willing, but his hands were freezing with the wind and snow. So they crossed the street, and after a few minutes, they entered the little inn. It was crowded, noisy, warm and smoky, and a woman with a graceful figure and a pleasing face tended to a gang of noisy wizards at the bar.

"That's Ms. Rosmerta. Ron said, "I'm going to call for a drink, okay?" he added, blushing a little.

Harry, Hermione, and Vio walked to the back of the room, where there was a small table empty between the window and the beautiful Christmas tree, and near the fireplace. Five minutes later, Ron returned, with four large cups of bubbling hot butterbeer.

"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his large glass.

Harry took a big sip. It was the best-tasting drink he'd ever had, but it didn't seem to warm him up from the inside out. He kept glancing at Vio, thinking in his heart how to get to her aunt's mailing address, he had too many things to ask, and Vio's aunt undoubtedly knew in great detail.

Suddenly, a breeze blew through his hair, and the door of the three brooms opened again. Several people looked from the edge of the large cup to the door, and at this time, the hand holding the cup almost stopped.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the tavern in a snowflake, followed by Hagrid, who was having a lively conversation with a dignified man in a dull green-bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak, none other than Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

Ron and Hermione immediately put a hand on Harry and Vio's heads and pressed them under the table.

The two of them squatted aggrievedly under the table, and the few people who came in could be seen sitting down on a table not far from them.

Somewhere above them, Hermione whispered, "Shapeshifting Phantom!"

The Christmas tree next to their table rose a few inches above the ground, moved to the side, and with a soft dull sound, landed right in front of their desk, covering them. Looking out through the dense foliage of the lower part of the Christmas tree, the feet of the four chairs at the adjacent table stepped back, and the teachers and Fudge sat down, grunting and sighing. (To be continued.) )