Harry put the Sorting Hat on his head, staring at the black lining of the hat, slightly nervously waiting.

At that moment, a small voice whispered in his ear, "Is there something you can't figure out, Harry Potter?" ”

"Oh yes." Harry whispered indistinctly, "Sorry to bother you, I wanted to ask ......"

"You've always wondered if I put you in the right college." The hat slickly said, "Yes...... Your position is not easy to decide, but at least it is much easier to decide than that Maca McLean......"

"Maca?" Harry was surprised.

"Yes! Haven't you been thinking about him? "McClain was supposed to go to Ravenclaw, but he went to Hufflepuff; And you should have gone to Slytherin, but-"

Harry's heart sank. He grabbed the top of his hat and took it off, it hung limply in his hand, dirty, and faded.

Harry put it back on its original shelf, feeling sick.

"You're wrong." He spoke loudly to the hat that was quietly waiting and not saying a word.

The hat didn't move.

Harry stared at it and stepped back, and suddenly there was a strange suffocating cry from behind him, and he jerked around.

On a tall gilded perch behind the door stood an old bird that looked like a turkey with half of its feathers plucked.

Harry stared at it, and the bird looked at him with a sad gaze, and at the same time made that suffocating sound.

Harry thought it looked very sick—its eyes were dull, and a few feathers fell from its tail as Harry looked at it.

Harry thought to himself that if Dumbledore's bird died, and he was alone in the office, that alone would be enough for him......

Just as he was thinking this, the bird suddenly burst into flames.

Harry screamed in horror and slammed backwards into the table. He looked around anxiously, hoping for a glass of water or something, but he didn't see it.

At the same time, the bird had turned into a fireball. It screamed, and then vanished, leaving only a pile of ash on the tray under the perched branches.

The office door opened, and Dumbledore walked in, looking very solemn.

"Professor," Harry gasped, "your bird...... I can't help it, it suddenly caught fire......"

Dumbledore looked at the pile of ashes on the tray, and a smile suddenly appeared on his otherwise solemn face.

"It's almost time," he said, "for days since it looked like that, and I've been telling it to hurry up." ”

He couldn't help but smile softly when he saw the stunned look on Harry's face.

"Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. When the phoenix is about to die, it burns itself and is reborn from the ashes. Look—"

Harry turned his head and saw a small, crumpled chick poking its head out of the ashes. Its appearance is as ugly as that of an old bird.

"It's a shame that today is the day of its nirvana," Dumbledore said, sitting down behind the table, "it's very beautiful most of the time - it's covered in amazing red and gold feathers. Phoenixes are very strange and fascinating beings, they can carry extremely heavy things, their tears are healing, and they remain infinitely loyal to those they recognize. ”

Harry, in the horror caused by Fawkes' self-immolation, forgot for a moment why he had come here. But now, when Dumbledore sat down in the high-backed chair behind the table, staring at him with his light blue, penetrating gaze, he remembered everything.

"Professor Dumbledore......"

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Dumbledore said gently, "It's okay, speak slowly." ”

Harry found that when he actually faced Dumbledore, it became difficult to say what he had meant to say.

Maca has always had a good relationship with him, and he received a gift last Christmas - although he never read much of the "Occlumenc" notebook.

But these are all proofs of friendship.

Wouldn't it be like telling Dumbledore what happened to Maca to tell him what had happened to him......

No, it's also for the good of Maca! Perhaps, as Hermione said, Maca was just under the influence of some dark magic, and this matter had to be resolved as soon as possible.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said with a deep breath and a determined gaze, "I think it's likely that Maca was influenced by some sort of dark magic from Voldemort, he ......"

Harry told all the things he had seen and some of his guesses. Dumbledore told what Ron saw, what Hermione had speculated, and what he felt.

“…… That's it, Professor Dumbledore. ”

After he finished speaking, he stared at Dumbledore's face with a complicated mixture of apprehension and anticipation, hoping that the other party would come up with some solution.

But who knows, Dumbledore just smiled.

"Don't worry! Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "Marca is fine, he hasn't been affected by any dark magic. Yes, I know he's changed a little bit, but it's his own choice, all we need to do is believe in him and that's it. ”

Dumbledore paused, then said, "What about you?" Harry, is there anything else you'd like to tell me? I mean – about yourself. ”

Harry was stunned and hesitated.

He remembered Malfoy's shout, "It's your turn next, Mudbloods!" ”； I remembered the compound decoction again, and it was slowly boiling in the washroom of the still crying myrtle.

Then he remembered the ghostly voice he had heard; Remembering Ron's remark that "it's not a good sign to hear voices that others can't hear, even in the wizarding world." ”

He remembered what had been said about him, and his growing concern about his relationship with Salazar Slytherin......

For a moment, Harry's mouth tightened as Harry pursed his mouth from the confusion of mixed doubts.

"No," said Harry, "nothing, sir. ”

……

Justin and Nick, who was almost headless, were both attacked, which turned the already tense atmosphere into a real panic.

Strange to say, the most panicked thing was what happened to Nick, who almost lost his head.

What could do this to a ghost, people asked each other. What terrible force can hurt a person who is already dead? The students were almost scrambling to book seats on the Hogwarts Express, hoping to go home for Christmas.

And the three of Harry, who have been chatting lately, have fallen silent.

Although the compound decoction was almost ready, they didn't know whether to use it or not.

Even though Harry had told Ron and Hermione about Dumbledore's answer, it didn't do much comfort, and the worries didn't seem to lessen.

After some thought, they were going to use the Polyjuice Potion to test Malfoy's place, so that they could have something to do, so as not to be too annoyed by this or that thought.

Finally, the semester ended, and the silence, as thick as snow on the ground, enveloped the entire castle.

Luna went home, she spends every Christmas at home with her dad, and this year is no exception.

Although she asked Maca if she wanted to go to her house together and have a lively Christmas like last year, Maca did not agree this time.

He still has a lot of work to do, and he can't afford to delay any longer.

But what he didn't expect was that this Christmas, he was not alone.

"There's a flower, help me look at it."

As Maca sat on the top wall of the Astronomy Tower writing something, a familiar voice rang out from the top of the staircase.

"Miss Blois." Maca turned her head and said, "Didn't you go back?" ”

"There's a flower, help me look at it."

Willy stood at the top of the stairs, still wearing her loose, loose Slytherin robes, calmly repeating what she had just said.

"......," Maca asked, looking at Willy, after a moment, "what flower?" ”

"No name."

Willy took a small cloth bag from her bosom and opened it for Marka.

It was a handful of flowers, white and white, with a faint hint of psychedelic color.

Maca carefully pinched a flower seed, put it under her nose and smelled it, and immediately felt some pungent smell - it didn't smell good.

"I really haven't seen it, it should be a relatively rare magic plant." "It looks very similar to the seed of a magnolia, and it may also be a flower with a very demanding environment." ”

"Go try it out, and I'll help you apply for the fifth greenhouse."

Maca led Willy towards Professor Sprout's office, soon to find the key to the greenhouse.

In the fifth greenhouse, Maca quietly notes the morphological characteristics of the seeds in her herbalistic notes, while Willy stands by and spreads the pot with subsoil.

Now the two of them don't like to talk, and they are obviously doing things together, but they don't have a corresponding atmosphere.

Because of this, the efficiency of the work is unusually high, and everything is done quickly.

Just as Maca was about to say goodbye, Willy took the initiative to speak.

"What about you?" She said suddenly.

"What?"

"Do you have something to help with?"

Willy's brief remarks seem to have become a habit, and she always likes to omit the premise.

"Me?" Maca thought for a moment, then shook her head slightly and said, "No." ”

Willy pushed the brim of her large peaked hat up and looked at Maca quietly, before she said quietly, "If so...... Tell me. ”

With that, she calmly turned around, pushed open the door of the greenhouse and left.

Maca stood in the greenhouse, looked at the closed door and thought for a moment, and finally hurried after him.