Chapter 713： guess

From the beginning of school to now, Harry feels that his attention seems to be broken into six or seven parts - Quidditch, Dumbledore's biography, student council, clubs... The difficulty of the seventh grade class has also increased, and the professors seem to Just waiting for this moment, I plan to stuff them with all kinds of profound magical knowledge.

In the spell class, the excited short professor Flitwick exclaimed in an exaggerated tone:

"My God! I want to list all the useful spells, but I'm worried that your poor little brains can't hold it!"

The students below looked at each other.

"But don't worry," he said with a smile, standing on top of the thick stack of books as usual. "I'm going to teach you more practical things, closer to the essence of spells...such as saving spells, which can fire two distinct spells at once; and how to parse and construct an unfamiliar spell, if you plan to invent it later Spells will definitely come in handy; or other advanced spell casting techniques, such as the order of different spells acting on the same target, how to reduce disturbances...etc."

Everyone in the potions class was not spared either. Harry felt as if he was back in first grade -- Snape had been training their most basic potions for weeks on end after failing the first lesson of making scabies potions --

The students of the advanced class will try their best to meet the different requirements of Professor Slughorn in each class, such as "reducing the toxicity of wolf poison aconite with rose petals and beating toadstools", "how to maximize the use of limited materials". Efficacy of Featherwort"...

Even Emmeline Vance, who took over as a professor of Transfiguration, put forward new requirements for her students after she was familiar with the teaching tasks: on the basis of continuing to study human body transformation, the seventh grade will try to combine transformation theory with Various complex models are combined for comprehensive use. After she finished speaking, she transformed a feather into a bird, and then the bird's long beak became flat, the feathers fell off, and black satin-like fluff grew out, turning into a sniff. The students were amazed.

"It's just looks," says Emmeline Vance. "My takeaway is, don't stick to the shapeshifting you've learned before, but figure out what you want to achieve."

Snape's attitude was the one that caused the students the most discomfort.

Even if he changed his favorite subject, his attitude didn't change much. In a recent Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Snape flipped the textbook to the end. The students caught his movements with their eyes and guessed what part of the content they were going to learn, but Snape flipped to the end and threw the book away. to the side.

"Today's teaching is an extended topic, and you will find that this part of the knowledge will not be covered in the exam." His dark eyes swept the classroom, "This means that this class is for those who just want to get the N.E.W.Ts certificate. It's not big, those who don't want to hear it or don't understand it can come back next week."

No one left voluntarily. Although everyone is angry, there is a feeling of being despised. They secretly held back their strength, ready to retaliate. As a result, after the get out of class, the students walked out of the classroom in dejection. Obviously, none of them could meet Snape's requirements.

"You know what's the most annoying thing?" Dean yelled indignantly. "He even suggested that I do something else with my free time...like a swim in Black Lake or something."

"That's not surprising," Seamus said with a smirk. "Your hair-loss spell almost hit him. Think about it—"

"But the seventh-grade lessons are really valuable, with a dizzying array of advanced applications of defensive and dueling spells," Daphne Greengrass chirps excitedly: "You can't imagine replacing 'Spell Stop' with How amazing is the effect of 'The End of All Curses'..."

On the afternoon of the last day of September, Hermione came out of the dormitory with a box and sat across from Harry and Ron. The two stared intently at the box, and Harry said hopelessly, "Hermione, isn't there a badge inside?"

"—and with ambiguous acronyms?" Ron added.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Of course not!" She opened the lid and poured out the contents, and a stack of thick newspaper clippings immediately filled the table like a hill. Harry and Ron leaned over to watch. "These are what I collected in the first month of school, and now I have to reorganize them."

"Categorized like in summer?" Harry asked.

"Hmm," said Hermione.

"Can you see anything?" Harry asked, as he and Ron rummaged through the table, picking out what they were interested in reading.

Since school started, the summer cutting journalism jobs had been gone, and the other students had ordered one or two newspapers at most, except Hermione, who had ordered every newspaper and magazine she could get her hands on. Every other week, the Grangers would send her a package containing whatever Muggle newspapers they could buy.

"The news is always lagging behind, but I can still learn some useful information. I have to say that various changes are changing with each passing day." Hermione said as she lowered her head and sorted out, "Especially read together with the book "Promoting the Openness of Magic" …”

"You don't have to look at me to know," mumbled Ron. "The whole world is changing, and only Professor Binns's class is the same."

Harry's eyes stopped on a small newspaper clipping, which he read with his head down.

‘The location of the new wizarding town is in Cornwall, named Rutherford. At present, 200 wizards have relocated in the past. It is reported that Rutherford is adjacent to another wizard and Muggle gathering area - the village of Dingworth. With the completion of the new town, the surrounding wizards will have more choices...'

Dingworth... Harry stared at the name in a daze, he suddenly asked Ron: "What's the name of the place Bill and Fleur last settled?"

"Shell Hut," Ron said casually.

"No, I mean specific locations."

"Oh, it should be on the edge of a seaside cliff in Cornwall," Ron said with an expression of recollection. "Bill wrote to me--on the outskirts of a village, what's it called...?"

"Dingworth," Harry said affirmatively.

"Yeah, that's it."

Harry nodded and continued to read the neat print on the newspaper clippings, 'Rutherford will be the second town in the UK to be entirely made up of wizards, the first being the village of Hogsmeade, and those involved in the construction of the town include Twenty-four staff members and fifty-seven wizarding families who have decided to settle here are grateful for their contributions...'

Harry saw Longbottom's surname on a long list of names.

The second piece of news is that the Daily Prophet reprinted an interview with a Muggle newspaper. A guy who seemed to have a lot of background attacked the Wizarding Chamber of Commerce for attacking existing business rules, and they should be banned from certain industries... Harry put down the clippings, Getting used to the appearance of an opponent from time to time, he reached out and picked up a small piece of paper the size of a slap.

On the paper, it was written in compact small print that the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the United States had accepted twelve children with a gift for magic. Harry read uncomfortable reading that these children had been forced to take special drugs and required to cooperate with various tests. He hesitated for a while before continuing to read the following content. The Sweepers had contemptuously betrayed their own kind, intermarrying with No-Maj to avoid punishment, and abandoning any child who showed a talent for magic...these were eventually punished. ’

There was a mixture of anger and relief in Harry's heart, and then a vague thought came to his mind, but it was interrupted before it took shape.

"Hey! Listen to this," exclaimed Ron excitedly, "the Muggle newspaper praised Dumbledore for having stunned two generations of the Dark Lord, and now it's Professor Hep's turn to take over, and they're wondering who is The strongest wizard—"

Hermione snorted sarcastically, "They just want Grindelwald to fight the professor."

"I'm curious too," Ron read the news with interest, "they call Dumbledore the Swordsman, which is a cool title, but he's got a wand, not a sword... No, maybe it's the Gryffindor sword?" He gestured with one hand in the air, pretending to be holding a goblin sword that was as sharp as iron.

"How's the biography going?" Hermione looked at Harry, holding the stack of clippings in a small clip.

"It will take a few months at least," Harry muttered. "Mr. Dorje is very demanding."

Hermione shrugged, took the small piece of paper from Harry's hand, glanced down, and then sighed, "Hope these kids are well taken care of." But then her eyes froze, the look in her eyes. Sympathy is replaced by panic.

"No, probably not, impossible..." She stared at the table and muttered to herself.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

Hermione held her breath and asked softly, "You said... these children, will be the first batch? Only them? Will there be more-"

"What first batch?" Ron stopped and asked.

Harry's eyes widened sharply. The vague idea that had been entrenched in his mind just now suddenly became clear, but he would rather it not be true.

"You're saying that they were controlled by the local government before—" Harry was speechless, the guess was terrible.

Ron looked left and right, grabbed the note from Hermione's hand, and read it quickly. After hearing the words, his face gradually turned pale and anxious. But something came to his mind right away, "I said--it shouldn't be like you think, Ilvermorny and Hogwarts have similar magic, and any little wizard who shows a talent for magic will be recorded--um , These twelve children are just not old enough, so they leave an opportunity for the villains."

Harry and Hermione were stunned for a moment, Ron's words seemed to make sense, and they couldn't find a flaw for the time being. The two breathed a sigh of relief. After sorting out the clippings, Hermione took out the book Helping to Make Magic Open from her beaded pouch, but she seemed uneasy for a long time, and she didn't even have an appetite for dinner.

In the end, Harry proposed to visit Hagrid, Ron and Hermione had no objection, but they came out of the castle and stood at the door of Hagrid's cottage for ten minutes without getting a response. There was no one in there at all. "Hagrid's not at home, maybe off to tour the Forbidden Forest," said Harry. "It's strange, the lights are always on."

"Might as well take Grapp for a walk--anyway, let's go for nothing," said Ron, frowning.

They could only go back, and Harry looked back several times without seeing Hagrid, or a figure bigger than Hagrid.

"Come back tomorrow, Harry," Hermione advised.

"Remember to bring the Marauder's Map, so you don't have to find anyone," Ron suggested.

"Good idea," said Harry, "but there's no need to take it with you, just make sure Hagrid isn't home before we come, my Marauder's map doesn't see the depths of the Forbidden Forest—what's the matter with you, He Min?"

Hermione stopped abruptly, her eyes wide and frightened.

"Lights... Marauder's map... Can't see..." She jumped up suddenly, "Oh, I suddenly remembered something very important - but better check first, I'll find you later." Harry asked, and she scurried into the hall.

"What did she think of?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"I don't know," said Harry in a shadow, thinking about the American purgers, about the heavy topics they'd discussed during the day, but what did the lights and the Marauder's map remind Hermione? "Go, let's follow!"

They ran towards the stairs, but they didn't see any sign of Hermione until they reached the fifth floor. "She might have gone to the library." They turned back, and under Mrs. Pince's piercing gaze, they bit the bullet and searched the library, but found nothing. The two had to go back to the lounge and wait for Hermione to come back by herself.

the other side--

Hermione came back from the Ancient Rune office, which was also locked. Apparently, the professor hadn't returned to school so late, and she hesitated for a while, but still couldn't make up her mind. Then there was a strange noise from her, and she took out a glowing speculum from her beaded pouch.

"Is it Warren?" Hermione's eyes lit up, if Warren came back, the professor would definitely be there.

She took the finder—no, the sniffing scope—and walked down the spiral staircase and quickly back into the foyer. She paused for a while in front of the House Cup hourglass, and then walked down the underpass with a strange expression. Could they be in Professor Snape's office?

With this thought in mind, Hermione followed the stone steps to a spacious underground corridor with bright lights on both sides, brightly colored portraits on the walls, and occasionally a Hufflepuff student or two behind the pillars. Talk - this is not the way to the original Potions Professor's office.

"..."

The expression on Hermione's face was even more bizarre. "Well, it's not impossible." Finally she stopped in front of a picture, the picture was a huge silver bowl full of fruit. She took a deep breath, stretched out her index finger, and gently scratched the big green pear. The pear wriggled into a green handleHermione pushed open the door - which was the Hogwarts kitchen - and her eyes swept across the large, uncluttered room, the size of the Great Hall, There are also four long dining tables that are exactly the same as the auditorium. She hurried past here and came to the real location of the kitchen.

Hermione spotted the target at a glance. Originally her heart was filled with unease and fear, but now she actually wanted to laugh a little. Felix sat on the little round bench, the kind house-elves usually do, with his hands on his knees and his eyes fixed on the huge fireplace. There are dozens of house-elves around. She took a few steps forward, and through the space between the elves saw a little black furry fellow, Warren, also sitting on a small stool, cradling his knees, staring brightly at the fireplace.

A tantalizing fragrance filled the air.

"Gudong." Hermione couldn't help swallowing, she hadn't eaten anything at night.

Felix turned his head on the bench, revealing a dozen or so grilled fish that kept rolling and sizzling in the fireplace, and the surprise flashed in his eyes.

"Granger? What a coincidence to meet you here—well, I haven't had dinner yet, you—" He scrutinized Hermione's face carefully. "Want something to eat together?"