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The next day, the weather was terrible, but the ceiling of the auditorium was still cloudy. Students are eating and chatting in pairs, studying the semester's schedule, or discussing something special – such as the Triwizard Tournament.

"I say, Jack, aren't you really going to sign up?" asked Michael.

"What?"

"I mean Triwizard Tournament, Jack, aren't you going to sign up?"

"Dear Michael, I think it's necessary for you to go to Madam Pomfrey and have a look at your ears. Silver said with a look of pity, "Professor Dumbledore said yesterday that no one under the age of seventeen is allowed to apply. ”

"Can't you go through the back door?" said Terry Bout.

Silver rolled his eyes unceremoniously. "Do you think the Triwizard Tournament is a child's play? Do you still go through the back door? Let's not say that it will not work, and even if I can go, I will not go. ”

"Why? What a chance, a thousand Galleons. Antonin looked like a money obsesser.

Silver stared at them with a "you're idiots" expression: "Triwizard Tournament is not a game, it really kills, gentlemen. ”

"Do you think Dumbledore is strict when he says that you can't sign up under the age of seventeen? In fact, not at all, if you really play with a gun, then I bet that the students of the three schools will not live to pass all the disciplines of the Triwizard Tournament. ”

"In previous Triwizard Tournaments, the participants were all the best young wizards of the time, but even so, the mortality rate was still alarmingly high, and almost every match was dead, and the Triwizard Tournament involved a challenge for most adult wizards. Not to mention the students who haven't graduated yet - almost every contestant is forced to take that little wand against dangerous magical creatures like Kemera or the Sphinx Manticore. There were even a few competitions, because it was too dangerous, and several principals who were referees also hung up the lottery. If it weren't for the teacher's prompts, whether they were explicit or implicit, I wondered if anyone would have survived the Triwizard Tournament. ”

"So, why should I risk my life to participate in the Triwizard Tournament? A thousand Galleons and the glory of the victor are good, but I, Jack Silver, have no shortage of them. Silver waved his hand in disdain.

"Well, gentlemen, that's all for gossip. We had to leave for arithmetic and divination lessons, and Professor Victor, though kind, didn't like his students being late. I don't want to deduct points from Ravenclaw on day one. Instead of daydreaming and obsessing with unrealistic things, it is better to focus on the tedious arithmetic calculations, the oLs exam is not far away......"

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"Professor Victor is so good that he didn't have any homework left today. Hermione said to Silver in glee.

"Of course, but you can't ignore Stewart and Antonin, they have to hand in enough homework next week to ruin their weekend. Silver teased.

"Haha, that's what they are asking for. Michael gloated, "Do you think that Professor Victor can get away with his head down when he asks a question?"

"Dear Michael, it seems that you didn't answer Professor Victor's question either. ”

"Uh, Terry, what do you mean by that......"

At this time, in the front hall, a voice suddenly sounded.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

"Looks like it's going to be good again, with Malfoy and his two henchmen battling Potter and Weasley. Silver said.

Sure enough, Ron's voice rang out.

"Why?"

"Your dad is in the newspaper, Weasley!" said Malfoy, waving a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking in a deliberately loud voice so that everyone in the foyer could hear it, "Listen to this!"

The Ministry of Magic has a new mess

It seems that the troubles of the Ministry of Magic are not over, writes Rita Skeeter, a special correspondent for this newspaper. Recently, the Ministry of Magic has been criticized for failing to maintain order effectively during the Quidditch World Cup and for still failing to provide an explanation for the disappearance of one of its witch officials. Yesterday, the Ministry of Magic was put in a new embarrassment due to the bizarre behavior of Arnold Weasley, who banned the misuse of Muggle items.

Malfoy looked up.

"Come to think of it, Weasley, they didn't even get your father's name right. He's just a little insignificant, isn't he?" he said aloud gloatingly.

Malfoy put up the newspaper as if he were acting, and continued:

Arnold Weasley, who was commanded to own a flying car two years ago, was embroiled yesterday in a dispute with several Muggle law enforcement agents ("cops") over a large number of aggressive dumpsters. Mr. Weasley appears to have risen to the aid of Mad-Eye Moody, a former Auror. When Mad Eye Moody could no longer tell the difference between a normal handshake and a premeditated murder, he retired from the Ministry of Magic. Sure enough, when Mr. Weasley rushed to Mr. Moody's heavily guarded residence, Mr. Moody had another false alarm and missed a false alarm. Mr. Weasley had to revise the memories of several police officers to get out of them. But when asked by a Daily Prophet reporter why he had involved the Ministry of Magic in this pointless and potentially intractable matter, Mr. Weasley refused to answer.

"And a picture, Weasley!" Malfoy said, flipping the newspaper over and holding it aloft, "a picture of your parents, standing in front of your house - you call it a house!

Ron trembled with anger. The people in the foyer looked at him.

"Malfoy has gone a little too far. Hermione whispered to Silver. Silver grabbed her hand and chuckled, "Don't worry, Potter and Weasley aren't easy to fight." ”

"Fuck off, Malfoy. Harry said, "Don't be angry, Ron......"

"Oh, by the way, Potter, you lived with them this summer, didn't you?" said Malfoy sarcastically, "and tell me if his mother is really that fat, or is the picture a little distorted?"

"And what about your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry—he grabbed the back of Ron's robes to keep him from lunging at Malfoy—"Look at the look on her face, like she had a lot of shit under her nose!

Malfoy's pale face flushed slightly.

"How dare you insult my mother, Potter. ”

"Then shut your fat mouth. Harry said, turning away.

Malfoy pulled his wand out of his pocket and aimed it at Harry, and several of them screamed-

"Bang!"

Harry didn't fall, but Malfoy was gone, and where he had been, a snow-white ferret appeared.

"Oh, don't do that, boy!"

Professor Moody limped down the marble staircase. He had a wand in his hand and pointed at the ferret.

"Did he hurt you?" Moody asked, his voice low and hoarse.

"No," Harry said, "didn't hit. ”

"Don't touch it!" Moody shouted.

"Don't-what?" asked Harry, inexplicably.

"It's not you—it's him!" Moody roared again, giving a thumbs up, and over his shoulder to point at Crabbe, who was about to pick up the ferret, but was too frightened to move. Moody's whirling eyes seemed to have magical powers, allowing him to see what was behind his head.

Moody began limping towards Crabbe, Goyle, and the stoat, who screamed in terror, dodged, and ran in the direction of the basement.

"I don't believe in this!" Moody yelled, pointing his wand at the ferret, which suddenly rose ten feet into the air, slammed to the ground, and then suddenly rose again.

"I don't like anyone attacking someone behind their backs," Moody said gruffly, as the ferret jumped higher and higher, screaming in pain, "and this is the dirtiest, meanest, and most cowardly ......"

The stoat leaped into the air, its four legs and tail wagging in despair.

"Professor Moody, I'm sorry to interrupt your Transfiguration demonstration. Silver stepped forward. "While I personally don't really like Mr. Malfoy's sneak attack, Hogwarts abolished the magical transformation penalty for students many years ago. ”

Moody's dripping prosthetic eye was fixed on Silver, but the movement of his hand didn't stop.

Many people gasped for him.

A strange smile on Moody's terrible face: "I think I know you, Jack Silver......"

"Professor Moody!" a startled voice said, interrupted by Moody's words.

Professor McGonagall was descending the marble staircase, holding a stack of books in her arms.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall. Moody said calmly, making the ferret jump higher.

"Y-what are you doing?" Professor McGonagall asked, her gaze moving to the ferret bouncing in mid-air.

"Lesson lesson. Moody's said.

"Lesson—what, Moody, is that a student?" exclaimed Professor McGonagall, the book in her arms scattered to the floor.

"That's right. Moody's said.

"Oh my God!" Professor McGonagall shouted, hurried down the stairs, and drew her wand. Moments later, with a loud crackle, Draco Malfoy was back again. He was curled up in a ball and lay on the stone floor, his slippery pale yellow head scattered over his now dazzlingly red face. After a while, he stood up, looking trembling.

"Moody, we never use shapeshifts as punishment!" Professor McGonagall said weakly, "Professor Dumbledore must have sued you, right?"

"He probably mentioned it," Moody said, scratching his chin nonchalantly, "but I think I need to scare him hard—"

"We can shut up, Moody!, or report to the dean of the house where the person is located. ”

"I'll do that. Moody glared at Malfoy in disgust and said.

Malfoy's pale eyes were still welling with tears from pain and shame as he looked up at Moody viciously, muttering something that was clearly audible to a few words, "My Daddy."

"Oh, really?" Moody limped forward a few steps, his wooden leg slamming against the ground echoing through the foyer, "yes, I've known your dad before, kid...... You sue him that Moody is keeping an eye on his son...... You sue him for me...... Okay, the head of your house is Snape, isn't he?"

"Yes. Malfoy said resentfully.

"An old friend," Moody growled, "and I've been looking forward to a good chat with old fellow Snape...... Let's go, boy......"

As he spoke, he grabbed Malfoy's arm and dragged him towards the basement classroom.

Professor McGonagall looked at their backs uneasily, and it took a few moments for her wand to point at the books that had fallen to the ground, causing them to rise into the air and return to her arms.

"What are you doing here, isn't there anything else to do?"