The locket was still the locket, and it didn't change at all, neither flashing an evil light nor making strange movements. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Roger scratched his chin and wondered, "Didn't you say that Horcruxes will induce induction when they are close to each other?"

Then he shook the locket a few more times: "Give me a reaction, big brother!"

Even if there is a reaction, it is between the soul and the soul in the Horcrux, and it is his business.

Roger threw the locket back into the Pandora box with a disgusted expression, and groped with his hands on his body for a while: "Alas, where did I throw it?"

In a hurry, the boy hurriedly ran back to the dormitory, turned the suitcase upside down, and then held the compass with relief and sighed: "It's time to change the habit of throwing it away... At least this thing can't be thrown away. ”

Opening the lid of the compass, the pointer spun around twice and eventually pointed behind Roger.

The boy turned around and rummaged through it, took a bottle of vodka from the pile of clothes, unscrewed the lid and took a sip.

I was looking at the pointer, pointing straight to the girls' dormitory.

Roger threw the compass back into his suitcase, took a sip of wine, and lay down on the bed.

It seems that the fight between Lucius Malfoy and Weasley was not in vain, and he took advantage of the chaos to stuff Riddle's diary into the frying pan.

Then it becomes... As long as there is fun to watch this semester, Roger is satisfied.

The next morning, surrounded by plates of eggs and bacon, Professor McGonagall handed out the class schedule along the Gryffindor table.

Roger's first class was a herbology class, with Hufflepuff students.

They strode across the lawn, and the rest of the students stood outside the greenhouse waiting for Professor Sprout.

The herbalist professor was a dwarf witch with a patched hat in her fluttering hair and mud on her clothes.

"Today we go to the third greenhouse. Professor Sprout said happily that she had always been kind and always smiling.

Greenhouses are arranged by the size of the numbers, and the higher the number, the more interesting and dangerous the plants inside.

Professor Sprout removed a large key from his waist and opened the door, and the smell of earthy dampness and dragon manure manure rushed to his nostrils, mixed with the rich scent of flowers.

It's not pungent, but it's definitely not a good smell.

The herbalist professor stood behind a stool in the middle of the greenhouse, on which about twenty pairs of earmuffs of different colors were placed, and the students were asked to pick one pair of belts and then demonstrated how to repot the mandrake.

These little humanoid creatures are growing, and the original pots are almost restricting their growth.

Then it starts under the instructions of the professor, and the students have to get involved as well.

Having work for everyone to do is the true meaning of herbalism.

When the mandrake is buried in the soil, the exposed leaves occasionally shake twice, as if they have been blown by the wind.

The pot in front of Roger had leaves that looked verdant and unusually fat, like enlarged and thickened radish leaves.

Mandrake... Isn't it just a high-quality ginseng? In addition to being able to move and call, it is just a little more dangerous... Radish or ginseng low-grade version.

The boy grabbed the leaf and pulled it out of the basin, and an ugly baby hung from under the leaf, with pale green skin and some spots on it.

And shouted with his mouth open, twisted his body and kicked his feet, waved his little sharp fists, and stabbed Roger into his hand through gritted teeth.

The boy glanced at the other classmates in confusion, only to find that they were all concentrating on their own.

Roger glanced at Professor Sprout thiefly, and when she wasn't looking, he reached out and pinched off two of his little arms in the mandrake, and slipped them into his pocket.

The look of the call in his hand looks even more miserable.

The boy, whistling that no one could hear, stuffed the wounded mandrake into a large basin and quickly covered it with fertilizer.

These two little arms are kept for noon dipping sauce to eat, the overseas version of ginseng fruit, it's a pity not to taste it.

By the end of class, Roger's pocket was almost full of mandrake's arms and legs, and none of the plants that had been repotted by his hands were still intact.

Anyway, it is an herbaceous plant, and it can grow again with fewer parts, but it just takes a little longer to mature.

The other classmates didn't have the physical strength of Roger, they were all tired, sweating profusely, with a sore back, and their bodies were covered with mud.

And I didn't feel much in the greenhouse, but as soon as I came out and smelled the fresh air, the smell of dragon dung on my body began to grow.

After using several cleanups and odors to clear up on herself, Hermione decided to rush back to the castle to take a shower before the Transfiguration class...... This is purely a psychological effect, and it will not feel clean after all if you don't wash it with water.

Roger has always been a good at casting spells, and after successfully transforming the beetle sent by Professor McGonagall into a button and back again, he cast a quick increase in size on the small beetle.

Professor McGonagall didn't look very happy when he controlled the palm-sized bug and smashed Harry's little one, and the little savior had to run for another one.

It didn't help to give him another one, and Harry was gesturing at the beetle for a long time, just letting it exercise.

At lunchtime, Roger put the processed mandrake on the plate, twisted one and tasted it, it was crispy and juicy but with a little astringent bitterness, not a very ideal snack.

The boy swallowed his mouth twice, and ate all the oily roasted sausages, which is quite good for relieving greasy.

"What's the afternoon class?" asked Harry, chewing on something.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hermione immediately interfaced.

Roger glanced at the girl's class schedule, and Lockhart's classes were all circled by her heart.

Middle-aged and elderly women's idols are starting to evolve into national husbands?

If he had some real skills, it should not be difficult for him to evolve into the ultimate body: the Grass Powder Maniac.

After eating, they walked out into the yard, and the weather was a little overcast.

Hermione sat down and immersed herself in reading Traveling on a Ship with a Vampire, the novel was well written and worth reading several times......

Harry was still complaining about the increased difficulty of the Transfiguration class, and Hermione, needless to say, was always number one, and even Roger's practical operations were of a high standard, which gave him a sense of crisis.

Roger patted him on the shoulder, and comforted the glass heart of the little savior in a serious voice: "Don't be so depressed, cheer up a little, many times if you don't push yourself, you will never know how stupid you are, salted fish will always be salted fish, and if you turn over, it will still be salted fish, this is the end of your life, give up hope......"

Harry: "......"