Chapter 565

In fact, Hogwarts didn't give them a chance to fight. This is the way to potions, so the appearance of Professor Snape is inevitable.

As the dean of Slytherin college, Professor Severus Snape couldn't have preferred them, especially with the participation of Vaseline.

Said Harry bullied others, and then used van Lin's experience to make fun of him?

To be honest, vanillin is basically immune to such attacks.

But Harry wasn't like that. He was so angry that he didn't want to always rely on vaseline, but among the four of them

Maybe Hermione is right. If the radiance is covered, no matter who it is, there will be some bad associations.

However, this is destined to be imperceptible to Fanlin.

In his view, Malfoy's finding fault with such a thing is simply a relaxed and happy thing, naturally, he will not put it in his mind

As for the Academy cup, probably only Sir Nicholas still cares.

Nick, as a ghost, is so boring that he has to focus on distraction and attention, which is useless.

The end result of the incident was that Professor Snape deducted Gryffindor 150 points, Harry 50, van Lin 100

But, that's a week's worth of deduction. Fred and George are more than that.

Everyone is used to it.

Class begins.

Van Lin buried his thoughts in the book, and he had been looking for some methods.

Potions, alchemy, or charms.

And, of course, there's the phantom shift, which is very important, otherwise, it would be a problem for him to get away from Tom Riddle's graveyard.

Maybe he could borrow fox from Dumbledore.

But, that has to negotiate with Dumbledore, and there are those damned death eaters, van Lin must find a way to fight.

Voldemort can give it to Harry, but what about Trevor?

And fake moody's. maybe he can do something about it.

But, it's hard. He's been to Moody's office. This guy is too cautious, and his office is full of magic

Maybe, he really should ask Dumbledore for help and have a good communication

Let's talk about Harry. This period of time is destined to be a period of restlessness for Harry.

Harry sat there staring at Malfoy, imagining the horrors he was going to encounter.

If only he could cast the Animagus spell.

He would turn Malfoy into the spider, sprawling and struggling.

"Antidote!" Snape looked around, his cold black eyes glowing unpleasantly. "You should all have the recipe. I hope you can make it carefully, and then we will choose someone to try it. "

Snape looks at Harry, and Harry knows what's waiting for him. Snape wanted to poison him. Harry imagined him holding up the cauldron, rushing to the front of the classroom and pouring it on Snape's greasy head.

The knock on the door interrupted Harry's thoughts.

It's Colin. He squeezed into the classroom, laughed at Harry, and walked towards Malfoy, who was standing at the front of the room.

"What can I do for you?" Snape asked coldly.

"Teacher, I'm going to take Harry Potter upstairs."

Snape nose down, staring at Colin, the smile faded.

"Potter's going to make half an hour's Potion," snape said coldly. "He will go upstairs after class."

Colin blushed.

"Old teacher, it's Mr. bagmond looking for him," he said nervously. "All the players have to go. I think they want to take pictures..."

If Harry could stop Colin from saying these last words, Harry would have given him everything they had. He glanced at Ron occasionally, but Ron was focused on the ceiling.

"Don't worry about it." Van Lin said in a low voice.

Snape looked back at Vaseline, and immediately, he was afraid to be in dobby.

"All right, all right." Snape interrupted. "Porter, leave it here. I want your antidote."

"Teacher - he has to take everything away." Colin whispered, "all the players -"

"enough!" Cried Snape. "Porter, take your bag and don't let me see you again."

Porter tossed his bag over his shoulder, got up and walked towards the door.

As he passed Slytherin's desk, the light of "Potter stink" came from all directions.

Harry was almost ready to breathe. The feeling of anger

As soon as Harry closed the door, Colin began to say, "that's amazing, Harry, isn't it? You are a player

"Yes, it's really amazing." Said Harry heavily.

They walked up the steps to the entrance hall. "Colin, why do they want pictures?""I think it's for the prophet's daily."

"Oh." Harry was sullen, "we really need more public attention?"

"Good luck!" In the right room Colin said goodbye to him, Harry knocked at the door and walked in.

The classroom is very small, and there is a large chunk in the middle of most of the back. They were sitting there three days ago. A long velvet covered the blackboard, and five chairs were behind the velvet desk.

Rud bagmon sat on one of them and spoke to a wizard in purple and red. Harry never met the wizard before.

Victor Krum, as usual, was in the corner with a melancholy look, without talking to anyone.

Cedric and Furong are talking. Harry has never seen Furong so happy. She dropped her head from time to time to make her hair eye-catching.

A man with a big stomach holds a big black camera, which is far away from the light smoke, and fattens her with the corners of his eyes.

Bagmond suddenly recognized Harry, and quickly got up and jumped forward, "ha, he's here!

Player four! Come in, Harry, come in. There's nothing to fear. A wand measurement ceremony. The other referees will be there soon. "

"Wand measurement?" Harry was nervous and repeated. "We must check it to make sure that your wand is all right and there is no problem.

You know, they are important tools for you to accomplish the tasks you face. " Bagmond said, "and then with Dumbledore. We'll take a picture. This is Rita skitt. "He added, and made a gesture to the purple robe wizard.

"She wrote a little story about the contest for the prophet daily."

"It's a real honor." Rita skitter was looking at Harry.

Her hair was carefully combed into stiff curls, which was particularly odd compared to her large chin. She wore a pair of jewelled glasses. Nails are two inches long except for dark red nail polish. The fat hand held her alligator bag tightly.

"Before I start, may I have a few words with Harry?" She asked bagmond, but she still stared at Harry. "The youngest player, you know Add some color. "

"Of course!" Bagmond said, "Harry is not against it?"

"This --" Harry hesitated.

Dear, "before a second glance Rita skitter's Scarlet hand had caught Harry's arm - her strength was amazing - to take him out of the room again. She opened the nearest door.

"We don't want to stay in such a noisy place." "Let me see, ah, by the way, it's nice, warm and comfortable," she said

"But this is the closet with brooms." Harry stared at her.

"Come on, honey, it doesn't matter," Rita skitter called again.

She sat herself in an inverted basket, shaking.

She pushed Harry into the closet, closed the door, and they were immersed in the dark.

"Now look..."

She opened the crocodile bag, pulled out a small candle, and lit them with a flick of her hand, and stayed in the air, so that they could see clearly the work. "

"Harry, don't you mind if I use a shorthand? Then I can talk to you normally and freely. "

"What do you use?"

She laughed more happily.

Harry counted that she had three golden teeth. She reached into the bag again, took out a green feather pen, a roll of parchment, and she spread the parchment out and put it on a wooden box. In fact, wooden box is Mrs Scott's multifunctional magic decontaminator.

She put the tip of the pen in her mouth, sucking like a delicious meal, and then putting it on parchment.

It stood steadily on it, shaking slightly.

"Test, my name is Rita skitt, a reporter for the prophet's daily."

Harry looked down at the feather pen.

Rita skitter just opened her mouth, and the pen began to slide on parchment, and wrote, "charming Rita skitter, 43, blonde, has made a lot of boast out of her unsettled pen."

"Great," Rita skitter tore the paper off the parchment and crumpled it into the bag.

She approached Harry and asked, "so, Harry, what made you determined to take part in the witch race?"

"This --" Harry is here again. He was attracted by the pen. Although he said nothing, the pen went back and forth on parchment, and then he saw a sentence: an ugly scar, a sad memory of the past. It destroys Harry Potter's charming face, his eyes

"Harry, don't mind it," Rita skett said. Harry looked at her reluctantly.

"Then, why are you determined to sign up for the competition?"

"I don't have it." Harry said. "I don't know how my name got into the burning goblet, which I didn't put."

Rita skitter raised her black, thick eyebrows. "Say, Harry, there's no need to worry about trouble. We all know you shouldn't sign up at all. But don't worry, our readers like the young rebellious kids. ""But I didn't sign up," Harry repeated. "I don't know who --"

"how do you feel about the task ahead?" Rita Skeeter asked, "excited? Nervous? "

"I haven't really thought about Yes, I think it's nervousness. " Harry was nervous and uncomfortable when he said this.

"There have been deaths in the past, haven't they?" Rita Skeeter said briskly, "have you ever thought of one?"

"Well, they said it would be safer this year."

The quill quickly wrote on parchment, back and forth like skating.

"Of course, you've faced death before, haven't you?" Rita Skeeter watched him closely. "What do you think of its impact on you?"

Harry couldn't catch up with the rhythm. He wanted to say something, but Rita didn't give him much chance.

"Do you think the trauma of the past has made you more interested in improving yourself? Live up to your reputation? Do you think you were tempted to sign up for the sorceress competition this time because "

" I didn't sign up. " Hart was infuriated.

"Do you remember your parents?" Rita Skeeter spoke over his head.

"I don't remember."

"What do you think they would think if they knew you were going to take part in the Triwizard? Proud of you? Worried about you? Or angry? "

Harry was really bored this time. How could he know what his parents would think if they were alive. He was aware of her concerned eyes, frowned, avoided her eyes, and read the sentence that the pen had just written: "when we turn to his parents who have no image, his eyes are so green that they are full of water, and his eyes are full of ghosts of the past."

"There are no tears in my eyes, and there are no ghosts of the past!" Harry yelled.

Before Rita Skeeter could say anything, the closet door was opened.

Harry looked out. The light was so strong outside that he blinked. Dumbledore stood looking down at the two men huddled in the closet.

"Dumbledore!" Rita Skeeter cried out with joy.

Harry noticed that her pen and parchment had suddenly disappeared from the magic cleaner. Her crooked fingers snapped the alligator bag.

"How are you?" She asked, standing up and extending a stout hand to Dumbledore.

"I believe you've read my report on the International Association of Wizarding meetings this summer."

"It's disgusting," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I particularly like your writing of me as a trite vagabond."

Rita Skeeter was not embarrassed at all. "I think some of your ideas are out of date, Dumbledore, so many witches on the street..."

"I'd love to hear the reasoning behind your rude comments." Dumbledore bowed politely and said with a smile, "but I'm afraid this issue will be discussed later. The wand measurement ceremony is about to start. If one of the players is hidden in the broom closet, it will not be possible."

Harry was happy to get rid of Rita Skeeter.

He rushed back to the classroom. The other players were sitting in the door chair. He sat down next to Cedric and saw the velvet covered table, where four judges were sitting: Professor kakarov, Mrs. maxim, Mr. Barty crouch and Ruth bagmon.

Rita Skeeter took a seat.

Harry saw her take the parchment out of her bag, lay it on her lap, suck the tip of the pen, and put it on the parchment again.

An old man, familiar to all, stood in front of them, with Dumbledore.

In Britain, at least.

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