Hagrid struggled to get up from his chair and walked unsteadily outside. They heard a loud splashing of water.

"What did he do?" Harry said nervously as Charon came in, the big goblet in his hand.

He stuck his head in the bucket.

Charon said as he put the goblet away. Hagrid returned, his long hair and beard soaking wet, wiping the water from his eyes.

"It's much better." He said, shaking his head like a dog, and the droplets of water flew over them.

"Listen. You've come here to see me, it's your good for me, I'm ......" Hagrid suddenly stopped, glaring at Harry as if he had only now discovered that he was here.

"What do you think you're doing, huh?" He yelled, so suddenly, so frightened that they jumped up.

"You shouldn't be wandering around after dark, Harry, and the three of you, to let him do this!" Hagrid walked over to Harry, grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the door.

"Let's go!" Hagrid said angrily, "I'll take you four back to school, but don't let me see you come here after dark to see me." I'm not worth it to you. ”

Malfoy didn't reappear in class until Thursday morning, his right arm wrapped in a bandage and hanging from a sling, as if pretending to be a hero who had survived some terrible battle.

This was Professor Snape's Potions lesson. Today they're working on a new potion: the shrinkage solution. Malfoy happened to place his cauldron next to Harry and Ron so they could prepare the various ingredients for the potion on the same table.

"Sir," cried Malfoy, "I need someone to help me cut the roots of these daisies, for my arm is ......"

"Weasley, for Malfoy." Snape said without looking up.

Ron's face was as red as a brick in anger.

"Your arm is fine." He said to Malfoy angrily.

Malfoy smirked across the table.

"Weasley, you've heard Professor Snape, cut these roots."

Ron grabbed the knife and pulled Malfoy's roots in front of him, beginning to cut them roughly, resulting in different sizes.

"Professor," Malfoy said in a long voice, "Weasley has cut my roots into all sorts, sir. ”

Snape approached their table, looked down through his hooked nose to the table, and gave Ron an unpleasant smile from under his long, greasy black hair.

"Swap roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But, sir......"

Ron had just spent a quarter of an hour carefully cutting his own roots, cut them to exactly equal size.

"Now." Snape said in his most dangerous tone.

Ron shoved his own beautifully cut root across the table to Malfoy, then picked up the knife again.

"And, sir, I need someone to peel my figs for me." Malfoy said, his voice filled with malicious laughter.

"Potter, you can peel the figs for Malfoy." Snape said, giving Harry a look of disgust that he had kept for Harry.

Harry took Malfoy's figs as Ron began to try to fix the roots he now had to use. Harry peeled the fig as quickly as he could. Throw it to Malfoy across the table, without saying a word. Malfoy's smile grew more and more maliciously.

"Have you seen your buddy Hagrid lately?" He asked them quietly.

"It's none of your business." Ron said hurriedly, not looking up.

"I'm afraid he'll never be a teacher again," Malfoy said, feigning sorrow, "and my dad is upset that I'm hurt......"

"Go on, Malfoy, I'm going to give you the real thing." Ron growled.

"He has already complained to the school administrators. I also complained to the Ministry of Magic. My dad was an influencer, you know. And a kind of old and bad ...... like this," he sighed alike, "and who knows what will happen if my arm never gets back to its original shape?" ”

"So you're pretending like this," said Harry, suddenly cutting off the head of a dead caterpillar as his hands trembled with rage, "to find a way to get Hagrid expelled." ”

"Well," Malfoy said, his voice low as a whisper, "partly so, Potter. But there are other benefits. Weasley, cut the caterpillars for me. ”

In this lesson, Harry and Ron were commanded by Malfoy under the favor of Professor Snape, and they were both so angry that their stomachs were about to explode. Neville was also deducted 5 points for helping Hermione.

When class finally ended, Charon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed the stairs to the antechamber. Ron was still agitated because of Snape.

"The despicable Malfoy, and the favoritist Snape. Hermione, you should say Neville did it himself, so he won't deduct points! Hermione didn't answer. Ron looked around.

"Where did she go?"

Charon and Harry also turned around. Now they stood at the top of the stairs and watched the rest of the class walk past them and walk down the hall for lunch.

"She's just behind us." Ron said with a frown.

"She's there." Harry suddenly spotted Hermione.

Hermione gasped a little, and hurried up the stairs; She grabbed her bag with one hand, and with the other seemed to be tucking something under the placket of her robe.

Charon's brow furrowed, he had never seen anything like it, something extremely unusual had happened to Hermione.

"How did you do that?" Ron asked curiously. Charon stared at Hermione to see how she could explain.

"What?" Hermione said, come with them.

"You were behind us one minute ago, and now you're under the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione looked a little confused, "Oh, I have to go back and get something." Oh no......"

There was a crack in Hermione's bag. Harry wasn't surprised, he could see at least twelve big, heavy books in her bag.

"Why do you carry so many books with you?" Ron asked her.

"You know how many classes I'm going to take." Hermione gasped and said, "Bring me some, okay?" ”

"But," Ron flipped through the books she handed him, reading the covers.

"You don't have to take these classes today. There's only a Defence Against the Dark Arts class this afternoon. ”

"Oh yes." Hermione mumbled, but she put all the books back in her own bag.

"I wish I had something good for lunch, I'm starving." She added, and she strode down the hall.

"Do you think there's something Hermione isn't telling us?" Ron asked Harry.

Charon's face was gloomy, he probably understood something, and Hermione would have to explain the rest.

After lunch, Hermione was gone, seemingly avoiding Charon. Charon had no choice but to put the matter on until after the afternoon class.

This was Professor Lupin's first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Lupin walked into the classroom, smiled, and placed his tattered suitcase on the lectern. He was as ragged as he had come, but looked healthier than he had been on the train, as if it had been due to the fact that he had eaten a few meals solidly.

"Good afternoon," he said, "please put all your books back in your bag." Today is a practical lesson, and all you need is a wand. ”

The class put the books back in their bags, and several students exchanged surprised looks. They had never taken a Defence Against the Dark Arts practice class before, except for the memorable lesson from last year, where the original teacher had brought a cage of leprechauns and released them all.

"So," said the professor, seeing that everyone was ready, "will you follow me?" ”

The class was confused, but also interested, and all stood up and walked out of the classroom with Professor Lupin. He led them into the second hallway, where he stopped, just outside the faculty lounge.

"Please come in." Professor Lupin said, opening the door and taking a step back.

The faculty lounge is a long, out-of-twine place filled with old chairs. Professor Lupin beckoned the class to the end of the lounge. There was nothing there, only an old wardrobe, where the faculty kept their surplus robes. Professor Lupin walked over to the closet and stood still, the closet suddenly swayed and slammed against the wall.

"Don't worry." Professor Lupin said calmly, because at this point several students jumped back in fright.

"There's a Boggart in there." Most people feel that there is a real need to worry. Neville glanced at Professor Lupin, his eyes full of horror, and Seamofinigan peeked in fear at the now-shaking doorknob.

"Boggart likes dark, enclosed spaces," says Professor Lupin, "the closet, the space under the bed, the cupboard under the sink, and once I came across an old clock hidden in my grandfather's clock." This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the principal if the faculty could leave it alone and give my third-graders some hands-on opportunities.

"So, the first question we have to ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Hermione raised her hand, "It's a metamorphosis thing," she said, "and it can be presented as whatever image it thinks scares us the most." ”。

"I couldn't have said any better," Professor Lupin said, Hermione smugly, "so the Boggart sitting in the dark in the closet hasn't yet taken on any form." It doesn't know what scares the people outside the door. No one knows what Boggart looks like when he's alone, but when I release it, it immediately becomes the thing that each of us fears the most.

"That means," Professor Luhu said, deliberately ignoring Neville's slight voice of terror, "that we had a huge advantage over Boggart before we started. Have you found that advantage, Harry? ”