"It's a good day," Michael's finger slid lightly over the schedule, "Herb class, with the Slytherin students." Malfoy would be pleased. ”

Ever since Alan rescued Malfoy in the foyer and taught Moody a lesson, the young wizards of Slytherin had treated him with great respect. Punish Moody with more power, rescue Malfoy, and avoid punishment through power, isn't this pureblood?

Not to mention Malfoy, whose eyes almost glow when he sees Allen, often makes Pansy jealous.

After breakfast, Alan walked through the damp vegetable patch and arrived at the third greenhouse, where Malfoy was already waiting at the door early.

Pansy tugged at the corners of her mouth stiffly when she saw Alan, apparently Malfoy had warned her.

It wasn't until he entered the greenhouse that Malfoy stopped his glued gaze at Allen and looked at Professor Sprout, who showed the class a plant that was extremely ugly, in fact, not like a plant, but more like a large, black, slimy slug, coming straight out of the soil. And they all squirmed slightly, and there were many shiny big bulges on their bodies, which seemed to be full of liquid.

"Babo tuber. Professor Sprout cheerfully told the group, "You need to squeeze it with your hands, you need to collect its pus-"

"What?" asked Malfoy in disgust.

"Pus, Malfoy, pus," said Professor Sprout, "is of great value, and should not be wasted." Listen, collect the pus into these bottles. Wearing your dragon skin gloves, undiluted Babo tuber pus can cause unusual damage to the skin. ”

The process of squeezing the tubers is disgusting, but it also creates a strange sense of satisfaction. Whenever a bulge is squeezed, it spews out a large stream of viscous yellow-green liquid and emits a pungent gasoline smell. They collected the liquid in bottles, as instructed by Professor Sprout, and by the end of the lesson, they had collected several bottles.

A low, deep bell rang over the damp grounds, from the castle, and the class was over, and the students dispersed.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, I don't know what Professor Moody will say, he won't let us cast the Unforgivable Spell. Michael's words made Alan's eyes narrow, if memory serves, Hermione's class schedule, the first class this morning was exactly ......

Thinking of this, Alan quickened his pace, he couldn't imagine Hermione's pained expression.

Alan was walking very fast, and when he arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he saw Harry and Ron walking out of the classroom with a frown.

Alan grabbed Harry, "Where's Hermione?"

Ron snorted coldly and walked past Alan.

Harry glanced at Alan in embarrassment and followed.

Alan frowned and headed into the classroom.

At a glance, Hermione was leaning over her desk in the classroom.

Alan hurriedly rushed over and put his hand on Hermione's back, "Hermione, are you okay?"

"Alan?" asked Hermione, surprised as she pulled out a book from a drawer and hugged it in her arms.

"What did you learn in the last lesson?" Alan relieved.

Hermione's face was fine, and there was not a trace of pain.

"Professor Moody explained some of the principles of the Unforgivable Spell, but when I asked him about the strange appearance of the spider you mentioned, he didn't answer. Hermione said nonchalantly.

It seems that his own warnings worked. Others don't know, Alan is clear, Moody originally planned to cast the Imperius Curse on this group of students, but now that many plots have been changed, who knows if it will leave hidden dangers on which students.

In fact, if it weren't for the fear of accidents, Allen believed that the most responsible Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for so many years was little Crouch. After all, the most threatening spell for young wizards is the Unforgivable Curse. However, during the training camp, I can dedicate myself to explaining these relatively popular but threatening spells that are circulating among the elite of today's wizarding world.

All Year 4 students noticed a noticeable increase in the amount of homework they had to do this semester.

"You are entering an important period of magical education!" Professor McGonagall told them, two eyes gleaming majestically behind square lenses. L. Exams are approaching—"

“. L. What about the exam!" Michael said angrily.

"Perhaps, Michael, but believe me, you need to be well prepared! There are always only a few people in this class who can turn a hedgehog into a satisfying needle pad. Well, maybe add a little treatise on the principle of deformation. ”

The clever Ravenclaws wisely did not speak out to refute, so why waste time complaining about something that was destined to not change the outcome.

On the other hand, Professor Binns – the ghost who taught them the history of magic, this week assigned them to write a paper on the Eighteenth-Century Goblin Rebellion.

Professor Snape forced them to research an antidote. They did not dare to take it lightly, as Professor Snape hinted that he would poison one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked.

Professor Flitwick asked them to read three more books in preparation for the summoning spell.

This kind of life makes the little wizards like clockwork spinning tops, busy and busy.

It wasn't until news of the upcoming two schools of the Triwizard Tournament spread across campus that they were relieved from what seemed to be a never-ending life of study.

On Friday afternoon, everyone was called to the foyer to line up to welcome Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

They waited for a long time, the little wizards became agitated, and it was difficult for them to keep quiet for a long time in their excitement, and they wondered how the other two schools would come.

Suddenly, the little wizards were in a loud uproar, and they pointed uncontrollably at a behemoth in the distance and talked about it.

It wasn't until the behemoth skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, illuminated by the lights of the castle window, that they saw a great powder-blue carriage flying towards them.

It was the size of a house, and twelve winged horses flew through it, all silver-maned horses, each about the size of an elephant.

When the carriage stopped to the amazed gaze of the crowd, a boy in a light blue robe jumped out of the carriage, bent down, groped for something on the floor of the carriage, and opened a golden spiral staircase.

He jumped back respectfully, and Harry saw a shiny black heel come out of the carriage—the shoe was the size of a child's sleigh—followed by a woman, the size of a child he had never seen before.

In this way, it is self-evident why the carriage and those silver-maned horses are so big.

Alan noticed that about a dozen or three male and female students had disembarked from the carriage and were now standing behind Ms. Maxim. Judging from their appearance, they are all about eighteen or nineteen years old, and they are all trembling slightly.

This is not surprising, since the robes on their bodies seem to be made of fine silk, and none of them wore cloaks. Several students wrapped their heads in scarves or bandanas.

At this moment, one of them suddenly rushed out and hugged Alan warmly. To the surprise of the little wizards of Hogwarts, Alan didn't push her away.

"This is Allen's fan?"

"Girlfriend?"

In the midst of all the opinions, the witch who took the initiative to hug Eren untied her turban, revealing a dizzying face - it was Fleur.

"Hello Ellen, how is Albert doing?" Fleur's first sentence was Albert.

"This weekend, if Albert doesn't work overtime, I'll let him go to Hogsmeade. Alan blinked, and a dazzling smile bloomed on Fleur's face.

"Did you hear anything?" asked Edward suddenly.

Alan nodded, listening carefully. A loud, strange sound wafted towards them from the darkness: a pent-up rumbling and sucking sound, like a giant vacuum cleaner moving along the riverbed......