The Wicked Lady Bird is a rather dangerous magical animal.

It originates from the vast African savannah, a place of life and secrets that has given birth to many amazing creatures.

In fact, the African savannah probably has the richest variety of magical animals in the world. The aforementioned chameleon snail also comes from that vast grassland.

Due to its unusually bright plumage, the Wicked Bird was gradually introduced to the European magical world and became a rare pet.

Its coat color may be orange, pink, lime-green, or yellow, and experienced wizards can even guess what kind of feathers it will produce from the eggs of the Evil Woman.

Wizards have a long history of domesticating the Evil Woman Bird, and since it has four coat colors, it is also a symbol of the four in the ancient Runi language.

But beneath the beauty of this creature lies the ultimate danger, and like a juvenile mandrake, the cry of the wicked bird can also cause people to lose their minds and fall into fainting.

The difference is that its call is not deadly, but can drive wizards into unconscious madness, so each Evil Woman Bird must be enchanted with a silencer before it can be sold.

It is a very beautiful, expensive, rare, and dangerous pet.

"Are you listening to me, William?" Terry's voice interrupted William's thoughts about the Wicked Bird.

He looked up, and he was sitting at the long table at Ravenclaw College in the Great Hall, holding a fork in one hand with a small pork chop on top of it.

Casually putting the pork chops on the fork into his mouth, William turned to Terry and asked, "Where did you say?" I may have been a little distracted just now. ”

"We were just talking about tomorrow's Quidditch match, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, who do you think has the better chance of winning?"

"Gryffindor, Malfoy is still a little too immature, and he is far less experienced as a Seeker than Potter." William, who knows the plot, naturally knows which team can win in the end.

"Isn't your relationship with Malfoy very good? How can you still think like that. Terry asked, a little strangely.

"These are completely different things, of course I hope Draco can win, but objectively speaking, he is still a lot worse when it comes to Quidditch, and the difference between two thousand and two thousand and one is not so great."

The house-elf, Dobby, must have entered the Hogwarts castle long ago.

William's thoughts diverged again, if I remembered correctly, the Bludger that Harry was constantly attacking him tomorrow was the handiwork of this elf.

It was a unique kind of magic, and he had learned early on that house-elves had a very different magical heritage from wizards, and that they could easily use apparitions to defy the restrictions imposed by wizards.

It is also possible to manipulate a Bludger like Dobby without being detected by others, and it cannot be lifted by a normal spell solution.

Even with his ass, it was definitely not only Harry but also the players on the pitch who had spotted the Bludger, and the professors must have collectively used this spell in the stands at that time, but none of them could stop the Bludger that Dobby controlled.

There's something interesting about the magic of house-elves.

What would Dumbledore think, though?

How many things does he already know?

William never believed that Dumbledore would not notice an unfamiliar visitor to his castle, especially after what had happened to him.

And, by tomorrow night, the journal should be in control of the basilisk for a second attack, this time by Gryffindor's little boy who adores Harry madly.

The alchemy glasses he had prepared could also be given to Terry and them.

Thinking of this, William quickly finished his lunch, and then walked towards the outside of the auditorium.

"William, wait a minute!" As he was about to walk out the door, Draco's voice came from behind.

"What's wrong, Draco?"

"You should have heard, tomorrow, tomorrow is the first game of the Quidditch season, we play against those stupid Gryffindors, which side do you think will win?"

Draco asked a question, but judging by the smile on his face, it was clear that he thought it was a question that could be answered without thinking.

"I really hope you can defeat Gryffindor." William couldn't bear to discourage Draco.

"Don't worry, I'm sure I'll catch the Golden Snitch tomorrow before that stupid Scarhead." After assuring William, Draco asked expectantly, "Will you come to see me tomorrow?" ”

"Of course, of course I will, how can I pull off the first game of your life?"

William would, of course, he needed to get a closer look at the magic of the house-elves.

"Really, that's great!"

"Don't be careless, Draco. Potter still has some Quidditch talent, so you need to get serious and fully commit to tomorrow's game. William couldn't help but remind, maybe the plot will change.

If Draco was serious, with the cooperation of that Bludger, there was still a chance to kill the game.

"I'll be careful." Draco said, but his voice sounded somewhat perfunctory.

I don't know how much he listened to his words.

William shook his head helplessly, patted Draco on the shoulder, and then walked out of the castle, asking Hagrid's cottage to see Jupiter, and asking the little guy to send a letter to his father.

The content of it is naturally the discussion of the three Williams about the construction of the company yesterday, and he hopes that his father can transfer some people over.

Hagrid's cabin was still the same as before, and not much seemed to have changed, except for a few more marinated chickens that were hanging outside waiting to dry.

After William knocked on the door, Hagrid's loud voice and the cheerful cries of Tooth were soon heard inside.

He seems to be particularly fond of William, but William doesn't like the hound, named Tooth, because he always smears his saliva on William's robes.

After the two men exchanged polite words and William sent the little one away, he asked Hagrid tentatively.

"Hagrid, I see a lot of marinated chicken hanging outside your house, are the attacks still going on?"

"Hmm." Hearing this, Hagrid nodded with some distress, "All the poultry I raised were killed, and I had to reluctantly marinate them all in order not to waste food."

I know you have a lot of ideas, William. Do you have any good ideas? ”