Hermione looked a little happy.

She hadn't seen anyone but Professor Sprout in Harry's confinement, and no, not even Professor Snape.

Visible to the naked eye.

Professor Snape's hair has been thinning every year since Harry entered the school, especially in the last year or two, and he has become more and more like a qualified middle-aged man in Great Britain, except that he is still emaciated.

"How can it be called confinement." Harry shook his head and interrupted him softly, "Obviously an ambitious student trying to climb to a higher position in the field of potions, shouldn't a professor like Slughorn be very willing?" ”

They laughed and laughed.

The train stops at the station.

This year's weather was not very good, and it was still Hagrid who came to greet them, staring at an oil lamp in his hand, illuminating the little side in the thick fog.

He held his wand like a crutch, and waved it lightly, and his voice was like a bell: "First-year freshman, come to me." ”

"Oh, and Harry."

"Can you come to the cottage this weekend?"

Harry responded: "Of course. ”

Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief: "That's great. ”

He dangled a huge oil lamp, and his wand was conjured into silk and tied to the hands of each of the little wizards—he had intended to tie them around his neck, which he used to do with magical creatures, but just as the silk was about to tie the neck of a young wizard, he realized that these little cubs were wizards, not cubs of Thestrals, unicorns, or centaurs.

Smog is more dangerous than any other weather.

On a rainy day, the cubs could still realize that it would be dangerous not to follow the professor with the oil lamp, but the foggy weather paralyzed their nerves and made them mistakenly think that it was not so dangerous.

Because of the foggy weather, the little wizard ran around and had an accident, which caused the professors to have to go out to find it, and there were not many examples of the opening dinner and then going to the soup.

Seniors lead the way, and juniors follow.

Ron had just assembled the second- and third-year teams.

At the other end, violent clashes broke out.

"Malfoy, what the hell are you trying to do!" Shabini, who had just met Harry in Box C, roared, "Do you really think you're a Slytherin prefect? ”

"You're pointing fingers at us?"

"What do you think?!"

The students all looked over, and even some of the backward first-year wizards heard the movement and looked at it curiously, but they were dragged by the silk - the first-year wizards who were about to enter the four colleges in the future, together, couldn't hold Hagrid.

The Gryffindors were no exception, and they all stopped.

In the thick fog, Malfoy's face could not be seen clearly, but the artificial eyes inlaid with emeralds shimmered and bright, and they were bright: "Aha, such stupid things can be said"

"It's doubtful how you ended up in Slytherin for five years."

He slowly raised his wand.

The tone was as cold as the night air.

"Shabini, you really should go to Gryffindor."

Ron scolded directly, what do you mean? Gryffindor is now the best house at Hogwarts, and four of the top ten people in the Owls are in Gryffindor, four! Slytherin almost fell to the same level as Hufflepuff, with only two in the top ten.

Don't wait for him to finish scolding.

Malfoy uttered the incantation.

The gestures and the speed of speech were rapid, and almost instantly, a white light flew out.

The rope flew out and tied him up.

The second spell was released almost at the same time as the first, silently, only an astonishing magic wrapped in malice, which fell on Sabini, and his face immediately cracked and blood rolled out.

"Malfoy, you dead dad crumb." A seven-year-old pulls out his wand and aims it at Malfoy.

He roared, and was about to say a mantra.

But how could a student who only had experience in bullying classmates be better than an outlaw who escaped death several times in half a month.

He couldn't finish a single spell.

Malfoy casts a spell.

A mischievous spell, Fat Tongue, was familiar to the Slytherins who were passionate about bullying and had fun with it in their second and third years, and George and Fred Fat Tongue Toffee were inspired by it, but they later discarded it.

Not a discovery of conscience.

It's just that this small mutation in the body can no longer satisfy their interest in "little jokes".

Seventh-graders, it was only then that they discovered how useful this spell could be in a duel.

Unable to chant mantras.

"My father died to protect the family." Malfoy's face sank, and he took a deep breath, as if even his other eye was stained with the color of jade, "But what about your father?" ”

"I've heard about it lately."

"They're so busy trying to keep their position under the butt."

"It's disappointing, could it be that Dumbledore's weakness has given them more than a decade of confidence to think they can do it now?"

"I'm looking forward to the day our father will be reunited in hell."

He waved his wand again.

The seventh-grader's robe twisted and twisted into a long stick that skewered from under his and Sabini's wrists, picked them up, and hung them in the air.

"Now, does anyone else have a problem with what I have to say?" Malfoy clutched his wand and slowly let go, his gaze brushing over the mavericks of Slytherin who had fought the most with him in the last two years.

No Slytherin dared to speak up.

After a short moment of silence.

Malfoy nodded lightly: "Very good, then according to what I said, everyone is a good team, and the junior is good with the senior class." ”

The Slytherins left in silence.

Malfoy was at the front, with a firm foot.

The young wizards of the remaining three academies all watched this scene in amazement.

Ron smacked his lips meaningfully.

"Harry, I feel like he's learning from you." When they got to the Thestrals, Ron slapped himself on the thigh, "No wonder I think his gesture is so familiar." ”

Harry didn't speak.

Luna suddenly leaned over: "It's normal, Malfoy needs to protect himself, he will naturally choose to be the best person in his age." ”

Ron was taken aback by her, "Luna, why are you here?" ”

"Ginny and Neville, and another couple." Luna replied obediently, shaking her head, her carrot earrings waving, "They seem to be preparing something for me, let me come to you." ”

"Did Neville run into a scimitar-horned snorer during his summer vacation?"

For the latter words, they all selectively ignored.

"Mom told her before school started, take good care of you." Ron sighed, opened the car door, and was the first to walk in.

"Little Ronnie can see Thestrals?" Luna was the second to follow, headless and brainless.

Ron looked at him, "Why do you say that?" ”

"Harassment." Luna raised her hand and waved it at Ron's head, "There's a big gathering around you, such a big scale. I've only seen it in Hermione in 4th grade. ”

Ron shook his head from side to side, following her to disperse the things around him, and it took a while to react: "There is no such thing!" ”

"Yes." Luna is stubborn.

Ron sighed, staring at the Thestrals pulling the carriage and slowly stepping on their hooves.

Before this year, he hadn't seen the creature.

Until, he watched Neville and Bellatrix fight each other, watched Neville cut off Bellatrix's head, and then he could see Thestrals now.

This left Ron with mixed feelings.

When he can't see this creature, he is very envious, and his friends around him can see it, but he can't.

But when you really see it.

The creature was not good-looking, very thin, with skin on its bones, no flesh at all, like a dried corpse, black and swarthy, not the oily black of Sirius, and even its hair was lifeless.

Thestrals aren't as cool as they thought they were.

Death is not at all as graceful as I imagined.

Luna babbled on and on about many of the events of her summer vacation, most of which were focused on his father, and Monsieur Lovegood was now a popular piece of pie, with a constant stream of ladies visiting her every day, and even the most famous of all, Madame Sabini.

The lady was very good at choosing her husband, she was just thirty-five years old this year, and she had already experienced seven husbands in her short life.

Her surname was inherited from her first husband.

The property in his hands was inherited from the other six husbands.

Each of her husbands was short-lived, on average, less than three years in office, and the Ministry of Magic had more than once had reasonable doubts about whether Madame Shabini was involved in some homicide, but no evidence was ever found, and each husband loved her willingly to death.

Now she's eyeing Lovegood.

When she said this, Luna's tone was deeply dissatisfied, but it turned out well, and the editor-in-chief who sang the opposite tone seemed to be unable to appreciate the charm of a woman.

When Mr. Lovegood extended a third invitation to the charismatic Mrs. Sabini to join him in the Amazon forest in search of the scimitar-horned snorer, the well-bred lady could not bear it any longer.

Ron listened with great amusement.

Just as Luna was about to talk about the fourth lady who pursued her father, the carriage stopped at the castle gate.

They walked over to the long table and got it done.

Professor McGonagall hurried over, "Oh no, Harry, I didn't find out until the beginning of the school year that the Sorting Hat had always been in your hands!" ”

Harry took his hat off, "I'm sorry, but there are a lot of things that need it during the summer. ”

Professor McGonagall took it and shook it twice, "Can you call it back?" ”

Harry raised his wand and tapped it lightly.

Breathing, the hat returned, and it muttered dissatisfiedly, "Harry, I'm flying hard, haha, you never know where I am now." ”

"Haha, then you definitely can't think of what time it is." Harry whispered, laughing coldly.

Am I supposed to wish everyone a Happy Mother's Day yesterday?

(End of chapter)