In fact, Hogwarts didn't give them a chance to fight, and this was the way to Potions, so Professor Snape's appearance was inevitable.

As the head of Slytherin House, Professor Severus Snape could not have favored them, especially with Van Lin's involvement.

Said that Harry was a bully, and then, using Van Lin's experience to ridicule Van Lin's very close?

To be honest, for such an attack, Van Lin is basically immune.

But Harry wasn't, he was half angry, he didn't want to rely on Van Lin all the time, but in the four of them......

Maybe Hermione was right, the glow was covered, and whoever it was would have some bad associations.

However, this is destined to be imperceptible to Van Lin.

In his eyes now, Malfoy's finding fault is simply an easy and pleasant thing, and naturally, he will not take it to heart......

As for the House Cup, probably only Sir Nicholas cares about it now.

Nick is so bored as a ghost that he has to spread his energy between scattered, widespread attention, even though it's useless.

The end result of the incident was that Professor Snape gave Gryffindor a hundred and fifty points, Harry fifty, and Verlin a hundred ......

However, these are just a week's worth of deductions, and Fred and George are even more than that.

Everyone is used to it.

Classes are now on.

Vanlin buried his thoughts in his books, and he was always looking for ways to do so.

Potions, alchemy, or spells.

And, of course, the apparition, which is crucial, otherwise it would be a problem for him to get out of Tom Riddle's graveyard.

Perhaps, he could borrow Fawkes from Dumbledore.

But that would have to be done with Dumbledore, and with those damned Death Eaters, Van Lin had to find a way to fight it.

Voldemort can still be given to Harry, but what about Trefrey?

And the fake Moody's, maybe he can do something on the fake Moody's.

It's hard, though, he'd been to Moody's office, this guy was too cautious, and his office was full of magic......

Perhaps, he should really ask Dumbledore for help and have a good conversation......

Let's talk about Harry, this period of time is destined to be Harry's unquiet stage.

Harry sat staring at Malfoy, imagining the horrors he would encounter.

If only he could cast the Animagus spell.

He's going to turn Malf into that spider, struggling and writhing on all fours.

"Antidote!" Snape looked around, his cold black eyes shining with an unpleasant light. "You should all have the secret recipe ready. I hope you brew it carefully, and then we will choose someone to try. ”

Snape and Harry looked at each other, and Harry knew what awaited him. Snape wanted to poison him. Harry imagined him lifting the pan and rushing to the front of the classroom, pouring it on Snape's greasy head.

A knock on the door interrupted Harry's thoughts.

It's Colin. He squeezed into the classroom, smiled at Harry, and walked towards Malfoy, who was standing at the front of the room.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Snape coldly.

"Teacher, I'm going to take Harry Potter upstairs. ”

Snape snorted down, glaring at Colin and smiling as he faded.

"Potter has half an hour to brew," Snape said coldly. "He'll go upstairs when the class is over. ”

Colin blushed.

"Old—teacher, it was Mr. Bagmun who came to him," he said nervously, "all the contestants have to go, I think they need to take pictures......"

If Harry could stop Colin from saying those last words, Harry would be willing to give him everything they had. He glanced at Ron occasionally, but Ron was staring intently at the ceiling.

"Go with confidence. Van Lin whispered.

Snape glared back at Van Lin, and immediately, Van Lin didn't dare to be in Dobbibi.

"Alright, alright. Snape interrupted him, "Potter, leave things here, I want your antidote." ”

"Teacher—he has to take everything with him. Colin whispered, "All the players—"

"Enough!" Snape shouted. "Potter, grab your bag and don't let me see you again. ”

Potter flung his bag over his shoulder, stood up and walked towards the door.

As he walked through his Slytherin desk, the light from the "Potter Stench" shot at him from all directions.

Harry almost got ready for it, the feeling of rage......

As soon as Harry closed the door, Colin began to speak, "That's amazing, Harry, aren't you?

"yes, it's amazing. Harry said heavily.

They walked up the stairs towards the entrance hall. "Colin, why do they want pictures?"

"I think it's for the Daily Prophet. ”

"Oh. Harry sulked, "Do we really need more public attention?"

"Good luck!" Colin said goodbye to him in the room on the right, and Harry knocked on the door and walked in.

This classroom is quite small, with most of the room in the middle of the back. The three of them had been sitting there for a long time. A long velvet covered the blackboard, and five chairs sat behind the velvet-covered desk.

Ruth Bagmun sat on one of them, talking to a wizard in purple and red Shizi. Harry had never seen the wizard before.

Victor Krum, as usual, stayed in the corner with a melancholy expression, not speaking to anyone.

Cedric and Fleur are chatting. Harry had never seen Fleur so happy. She shook her head from time to time so that she could catch the eye with her hair.

A man with a big belly held up a large black camera with light smoke from afar, and slapped her out of the corner of his eye.

Bagmun suddenly recognized Harry, quickly stood up, and jumped forward, "Ha, he's coming!"

Come in, Harry, come in, there's nothing to be afraid of, just a wand measuring ceremony, and the other referees will be there soon. ”

"Wand measurement?" Harry repeated, nervous. "We have to check to make sure your wands are in order.

Know that they are important tools for you to accomplish the tasks before you. Bagmund said, "And with Dumbledore." We're going to take a picture. This is Rita: Skeeter. He added, gesturing to the purple-robed wizard.

She writes a short story about the contest for the Daily Prophet. ”

"It's a real privilege. Rita Skeeter fixed her eyes on Harry.

Her hair was carefully combed into stiff curls that looked particularly odd compared to her large chin. She wears a pair of jeweled glasses. The nails are two inches long, except for the crimson nail polish. The fat hand clutched her crocodile leather bag.

"Before we begin, I wonder if I can have a few words with Harry?" she asked Bagmun, but stared at Harry again. "The youngest, you know...... Add some color. ”

"Of course!" said Bagmuns, "Harry doesn't object, does he?"

"It's—" Harry hesitated.

Darling," Rita Skeeter's scarlet hand grabbed Harry's arm—her strength was amazing—and carried him out of the room again. She opened the door to the nearest room.

"We didn't want to stay in such a noisy place. She said, "Let me see, ah, yes, it's not bad here, it's warm and cozy." ”

"But this is a closet with a broom. Harry glared at her.

"Come on, my dear, it's all right," called Rita Skeeter again.

She sat on an upside-down basket by herself, staggering.

She pushed Harry into the closet and closed the door, and they were immersed in darkness.

"Now look at ......"

She opened the crocodile leather bag, pulled out a handful of candles, and with a flick of her hand lit them, they stayed in mid-air, so that they could see clearly as they worked. ”

"Harry, you don't mind if I use a shorthand pen, do you? ”

"With what?"

She smiled even more.

Harry counted out that she had three gold teeth. She reached into her purse again, pulled out a green quill and a roll of parchment, which she spread out on a wooden box. In fact, the wooden box is Mrs. Scott's multi-purpose magic stain remover.

She put the tip of the pen in her mouth, sucked it for a while as if it were something delicious, and then placed it upright on the parchment.

It stood firmly on it, trembling slightly.

"My name is Rita Skeeter, and I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet. ”

Harry looked down at the quill.

Before Rita Skeeter could speak, the pen began to glide across the parchment, writing: "The charming Rita Skeeter, 43 years old, blonde, whose unrelenting pen has pierced many exaggerated reputations. ”

"Wonderful," Rita Skeeter tore off the parchment and crumpled it into her bag.

She leaned in to Harry and asked, "So, Harry, what made you decide to participate in the Three Witches?"

"It's—" Harry came again. He was intrigued by the pen. Although he didn't say anything, the pen shuttled back and forth on the parchment, and then he saw a sentence: an ugly scar, a reminder of the tragic past. It ruined Harry Potter's charming face and his eyes......

"Harry, leave it alone," Rita Skeeter said firmly. Harry looked at her reluctantly.

"So, why did you decide to sign up for this contest?"

"I didn't. Harry said. "I don't know how my name got into the burning goblet, I didn't put it. ”

Rita Skeeter raised her dark, thick eyebrows, "Come on, Harry, there's no need to worry about getting in trouble, we all know that you shouldn't have signed up in the first place." But don't worry, our readers love youthful rebellious kids. ”

"But I didn't sign up," Harry repeated, "I don't know who-"

"How do you feel about the task ahead?" asked Rita Skeeter, "excited, nervous?"

"I haven't really thought about it yet...... Yes, I think it's nervousness. When he said this, Harry felt uneasy and uncomfortable.

"There have been deaths in the past, haven't you?" said Rita Skeeter briskly, "have you ever thought of that?"

"Well, they said it would be safer this year. ”

The quill writes quickly on the parchment, back and forth as if skating.

"Of course, you've faced death before, haven't you?" Rita Skeeter observed him closely. "What do you think of how it affects you?"

Harry was a little out of tune, and he wanted to say something, but Rita didn't give him much of a chance.

"Do you think that the trauma of the past has made you more enthusiastic about improving yourself? Do you think that you were tempted to sign up for the Three Witches Tournament this time because of ......?"

"I didn't sign up. Hart was enraged.

"Do you remember your parents?" Rita Skeeter said above him.

"I don't remember. ”

"What do you think they would think if they knew you were going to the Three Witches, proud of you, worried about you, or angry?"

Harry was really annoyed this time. How did he know what his parents would think if they were still alive. Sensing her concerned gaze, he frowned, avoiding hers, and read the sentence that the pen had just written: "When our conversation turned to his parents, who had no imprint, his eyes were strikingly green, and his eyes flashed with the ghosts of the past. ”

"There are no tears in my eyes, and no ghosts of the past!" Harry cried.

Before Rita Skeeter could say anything, the closet door was opened.

Harry looked out. The light outside was too strong, and he blinked. Dumbledore stood there, looking down at the two men huddled in the closet.

"Dumbledore!" exclaimed Rita Skeeter with delight.

Harry noticed that her pen and parchment paper had suddenly disappeared from the mana defilement. Her crooked fingers scrambled to clasp the crocodile leather bag.

"How are you?" she asked, standing up and holding out her large, thick hand to Dumbledore.

"I'm sure you've read the report I wrote this summer about the International Association of Wizards conference. ”

"Too good to be disgusting," Dumbledore's eyes sparkled, "I especially like it when you write me as a stale vagrant." ”

Rita Skeeter wasn't embarrassed at all, "I think some of your ideas are outdated, Dumbledore, there are so many wizards on the street......"

"I'd love to hear the reasoning behind your rude comments. Dumbledore bowed politely and said with a smile, "But I'm afraid this issue will be discussed later, the wand measurement ceremony will begin, and if one of the players is hidden in a closet with a broomstick, it won't be opened." ”

Harry was happy to get rid of Rita Skeeter.

He rushed back to the classroom. The other players sat down in the chairs by the door, and he hurried to sit down next to Cedric, and saw the velvet-covered table, where the four referees were seated: Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxim, Mr. Barty Crouch and Ruth Bagmun.

Rita Skeeter chose a seat and sat down.

Harry saw her pull the parchment out of her bag again, lay it flat on her lap, suck the tip of the pen, and put it on the parchment again.

An old man who was familiar to all stood in front of them, along with Dumbledore.

At least in the UK.