Draco was still unconvinced, in fact, he was the first to look at Harry after Lady Hooch returned and put the lesson back on track.

"Now, let's have a game." He was just face to face with Harry.

Harry, with one foot across the broomstick, kept hanging his foot, looking very casual, looked at Draco, and then nodded helplessly, "Well, if you insist." ”

However, what Harry didn't expect was that Draco was actually flying well, and his boasting seemed to be more than just bragging.

However, when Harry's series of sharp turns and acceleration left Draco behind, Draco's face turned paler than ever.

He was on the verge of collapse.

His family background, reputation, strength, and even his favorite broomstick technique were completely blown out.

When Mrs. Hodge announced that class was over, he turned around and walked away almost in despair.

Crabbe and Goyle didn't catch up with him until the underground passage, and the two ran out of breath.

"Draco, what's wrong with you?" Crabbe asked.

"No, it's nothing, don't ask." Draco's voice was soft, he had no idea of what to say.

"Pureblood supremacy." He said the command dryly, and then walked into the lounge. Then he found a sofa, and the whole person fell straight down, closing his eyes.

But it wasn't long before he heard something else talking.

It was Field, the guy who was beaten up by Potter last Friday.

"I've had enough..."

"He must be taught a lesson..."

Thinking about it, Draco opened his eyes, and at the same time Field noticed him and looked over.

"Malfoy, we're going to have some fun with Potter, are you interested?"

However, the expected scenario did not materialize.

He just shook his head, then got up and went back to his bedroom.

Field frowned until Draco's figure vanished, then looked at Crabbe and Goyle.

"What's wrong with him?"

"We don't know."

"Okay, what about you, are you going to have some fun with Potter?"

The two little chubby duns shook their heads again and again, and simply rejected his proposal: "No, we don't have anything to do." ”

Field grinned, turned his head away, and muttered angrily, "Coward." ”

He had planned a big operation, even talking about the two third-year wizards.

Most of the people who entered Slytherin were pure-blood wizards, and the circle was so big. On Friday, the two third-graders would come forward, because they knew each other a little closely.

It's just that what they didn't expect was that after they stood up, they were completely ignored.

With that, they began a heated discussion again, and the group unscrupulously whispered how to trick Harry.

Get some ink on his clothes, and of course, homework is fine.

Put some glue on his comb.

In short, how disgusting it came was to make Harry uncomfortable.

As individuals fit into the group, the little wizards' fears of Harry vanished, and they began to talk about it.

It's right in the lounge.

Until a sigh interrupted them.

"I don't understand what I'm going to do to get you to respect me a little bit. I don't understand what makes you hate me so much.

Did I make a Gryffindor friend? But Slytherin and Gryffindor used to be friends. ”

As the crowd heard this, the previous high-minded talk gradually faded away, and some of them looked at Harry at the door in embarrassment. Others stared at him inwardly after realizing that "there are many of us".

"Why?" A man stood up, a head taller than Harry, with a lot of stubble around his lips and pimples on his face.

"I'll tell you why, Potter." He approached Harry step by step.

"My father died in Azkaban. He was tortured to death by the Dementors. There was lingering anger in his eyes, and tears gradually overflowing.

"His relic was a piece of cloth, a suicide note written in blood." He said.

Harry could now see that the man was missing his father deeply, and he retracted what he was about to blurt out and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's about me. ”

"No!" He roared, spat splashing down on Harry's face, "What if... If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened. ”

Harry's face turned cold, and he suppressed the anger in his heart as much as he could, so serious that he was:

"If there's anyone who doesn't want this to happen, I think I'm sure I'm one! I sympathize with what you're going through, but I think it's time for us to change the subject. ”

"No—"

"It's all petrified!"

The spell came so quickly that it interrupted his roar, and he could only maintain a roaring posture, his body stiffening and falling forward.

Harry leaned slightly, moving out of place for his fall.

Harry's face was furious, how many good people could go to Azkaban? Not to mention blaming him.

Before putting on that sad and angry posture, have you ever thought about the families that were hurt by your father, and have you ever thought about what evil your father has done?

Harry could assure him that he had tried to empathize with each other from the same angle, and even offered to change the subject.

"Harry Potter!" A roar came.

Following the voice, it was the same third-year student who had stepped forward on Friday, and he drew his wand, aimed it at Harry, and began to chant the incantation.

Then, a flash of blue appeared in front of his eyes, rapidly approaching.

"Upside down—cough forehead—"

The mage's hand didn't even need to condense into a concrete form, just a gentle tap on his throat to easily interrupt his spell.

But at the same time, as another person struck, the rest of them had already drawn their wands and cast spells on him.

However, the little wizards in the first and second grades can't know a few spells at all, and even if they do, they can't use them flexibly without any sense of battle.

"Legs stiffen and die!" "Faint!" ……

Harry also waved his wand, flickering and moving, and his figure quickly approached. Sometimes he interrupts the opponent's spell with the hand of the mage, sometimes he dodges, and if there is something that can't be dodged, he also prepares it for himself - "Armor protection!" ”

A yellow spell struck him, but nothing happened.

"Faint!" Harry responded by casting a spell with his backhand. At the same time, a punch was thrown closer.

With a bang, one boy couldn't control himself and leaned back.

Suddenly, the whole lounge was in chaos. And around, a group of senior students were far away, watching this farce coldly.