Chapter 521

As the saying goes, "breakfast is like a king, lunch is like a gentleman and dinner is like a poor man". This sentence was originally used to discuss healthy diet, but it has no contradiction in three meals a day in Britain.

It is said that British dishes will make you think you have mistakenly entered a dark country, but in fact, British breakfast is not as terrible as foreigners know. On the contrary, Maugham, a Muggle writer born in Paris, France, once said that if you want to eat well in Britain, you might as well have breakfast three times a day!

Of course, Maka thinks it's just no harm without comparison.

"... here, try this roast quail," Slughorn eagerly forked a dark, dry thing into Marca's plate, "You know, although Hogwarts food has always been popular, it's still too greasy for our old people. I made these roast quails myself - I haven't been to the kitchen for a long time, and the elves are still so friendly!"

Yes, if it were a normal breakfast, such as bacon and fried eggs, it would be OK, but the Roasted Quail made by the old man is not so easy to accept.

Maka nodded at him, then without a trace pushed the ghost quail aside, so that it wouldn't block the mashed potatoes with cream cheese he was eating.

Fortunately, Slughorn didn't keep staring at him, but forked another roast quail and turned his head to Harry's plate.

The breakfast was actually quite rich. Except for Slughorn's unique roast quail, everything else looked very appetizing. But the atmosphere on the table was a little strange.

Ron was staring at Draco wholeheartedly, while Draco was engrossed in dealing with a piece of roast sausage; Hermione's fork was stabbing one-sided fried eggs, but her attention obviously fell on Luna in the corner of her eyes, and she didn't even notice the semi solidified egg yolk flowing out.

Neville, across the table, seems to have not slept enough. He can doze off with half a piece of toast in his mouth.

Finally, of course, there was Harry, who was trying his best to deal with Slughorn's enthusiasm to avoid the last Roasted Quail falling into his plate.

Slughorn's implication behind the meal was already obvious. Before Harry came here, he focused on Marca. When Harry took his seat, he resolutely moved his goal of friendship to the sad Harry.

"... McLean's performance at the Quidditch World Cup was really wonderful, wasn't it?"

Slughorn was talking to Harry about Maka's World Cup. The shriveled quail on the tip of the fork was shaken by him as if he had come back from the dead.

"At that time, no one knew that he was acting. His flying skills were real! You know? I was there - well, gwenog would help me get free tickets if I wanted. Of course, I mean gwenog Jons, the captain of the hollyhead hobbys, who was also a student I taught before..."

It is Slughorn's specialty to show his extensive communication anytime and anywhere. He can turn the famous characters he knows into the dialogue, and then tell others naturally.

"Seriously, I mentioned it to gwynogg in my letter," the old man continued with high interest, regardless of whether Harry listened or not. "At that time, McClane had not announced his plan with albus, so gwynogg didn't have much favor with McClane in his reply --"

At this point, Slughorn turned around and smiled at Maka. Maka, who was chewing roast sausage, shrugged indifferently, indicating that he didn't care.

"... hey, even though she was angry with McLean for disturbing the world cup at that time, she highly praised McLean for his Quidditch skills at the scene. She said that the players who can catch the golden flying thieves soon after the opening whistle, except absolute luck, are absolute strength - and McLean's situation at that time was obviously The latter! "

He said, paused a little, and then said with emotion: "I think if McLean doesn't want to be a professor in the future, maybe he can participate in the Quidditch competition - it must be world-class! He will win a series of Championships for his team!"

Most children like Quidditch, which has been the case since Slughorn was young. He guessed correctly that even now, this sport is the favorite of most little wizards.

"Oh, sir, you said you knew gwenog Jones?" Ron stopped staring at today's surprisingly silent Draco.

"Yes, that's right!" Slughorn nodded, pretending to be reserved. "You heard me. I taught her potions before, you know."

Ron got his confirmation again and looked at Maka in surprise.

"Last time at my house, you told Ginny that someone could help her get a signed picture of gwenog. Did you mean Mr. Slughorn?"

He was talking about the three-on-three match in the burrow. Before the game, Maka did mention it to Ginny. At this time, seeing Ron talking about it, Maka simply nodded.

"Autograph?" Slughorn rushed in as if he had found a breakthrough. "That's easy - trust me, there's nothing easier than that! Ginny? Is that your little girlfriend, Mr. Weasley?"

"Well, no, no..." Ron waved his hand again and again. "Ginny is my sister."

"Really?" Slughorn didn't care what the relationship was. He just needed to know that the relationship between the two was very close. "You ask Miss Weasley to wait. Next time, I can also invite him to participate in my private event. At that time, I can give her the autograph photo myself!"

"Oh! That's good," said Ron, who was very concerned about everything that could make his baby sister happy. "Ginny would be very happy if she knew! But..."

He said, but then asked Maka, "why did you say it was the next school year? I heard it in the broom room. You asked Ginny to look forward to the coming of the next school year..."

When Maka heard the speech, she looked at Slughorn and signaled whether he wanted to announce it himself.

Slughorn saw that Marca asked himself with his eyes. He thought about it, so he directly moved the armchair under his ass and stood up with a smile on his face.

"McLean is not wrong, but because of some circumstances, the time needs to be a little earlier." the old man pretended to pull his collar, as if to make himself look more solemn, "All young ladies and gentlemen here are not outsiders, so you can know earlier than other students - from today on, I will officially return to Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry and be the professor of potions again!"

For a moment, Harry and others were stunned in their seats, and only two people clapped their hands. One of them was Marca, of course, and the other was Draco. It seemed that he knew it long ago.

"What about... Snape?" Harry said first.

There is an old English saying that "the enemy who cares about you most is always your enemy". At this time, this sentence is incisively and vividly expressed in Harry.

"Professor Snape will replace Dolores Umbridge, who resigned voluntarily, and serve as a temporary vacancy as a professor of defense against the dark arts." Maka casually explained, "don't roll your eyes. Believe me, he is at least much better than Umbridge... As for how much better he is, you can experience it by yourself next!"

"Oh -"

Even Marca's comfort could not stop Ron and Harry's heartfelt wailing. Even Neville, who was dozing, was stimulated by the name "snape", and half a tomato slice in his mouth fell back to his plate.

"... so I'll teach you the wonderful course of" magic medicine "in the future!" Slughorn's attention was not on Snape at all. He was still giving his speech, "Maybe you haven't felt the charm of this course before, but I'll make you really interested in it! By the way, I'll tell you the exclusive good news - your professor McLean will be a special guest in my first class, and I'll show you the glory of magic medicine with him!"

Perhaps because the name "McLean" was mentioned too many times during the breakfast time, Draco finally pulled his eyes out of the roast sausage and hesitated to sweep in the direction of Marca.

Because Draco was sitting in a seat next to Slughorn, Slughorn even noticed Draco's line of sight. Somehow, Slughorn, who had a special liking for this wind moment, unexpectedly terminated his inaugural speech and suddenly led the topic to Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, don't you have something to say to McLean?" there was a kind smell on his face, as if he had become a kind grandfather in a moment. "I think now is a good time. You can say what you want to say now! For my face, I believe McLean will be willing to listen... Right?"

Slughorn's last "yes", obviously said to Maka. Maka was not very interested in his "face", but he was willing to know what Draco wanted to say.