Chapter 172: Idiot

Jon still doesn't know what happened to the stone monster.
He moved up the automatic ladder a little nervously.
Although Professor Dumbledore was on the shore of Lake Hogsmeade at that time, he did not accuse him of his behavior; but he can't guarantee that Dumbledore will "settle his accounts after autumn" tonight.
Pushing open the door of the oval office carefully, the chattering noise inside made his scalp numb.
"Is Professor Dumbledore out?" Jon leaned in and asked.
"Oh, the champion of our Triwizard Tournament is here!" Principal Phineas Black's iconic teasing sounded from the wall full of portraits of the principal.
"Champion?" Jon pushed in and quickly retorted: "I'm not yet, Principal Black...There is one last project!"
"Lead the second place by more than 30 points!" Phineas Black said endlessly: "If you can't win the championship, I'll chop off my head and give Foster a ghost fly ball. !"
While speaking, Phineas Black seemed to realize something was wrong with this: "No...If your kid doesn't win the championship, don't come here to see me!"
"To be honest, Phineas." Principal Dexter Foster took a close look at Phineas Black's head: "Your head is not very round, I personally think it is not suitable for ghost flying... "
"Enough of you..." Phineas Black retorted angrily.
...
Jon had to turn his gaze to Principal Dairis Derwent sitting quietly on another portrait: "Hello, Principal Derwent...Is Professor Dumbledore not there?"
"Yes." Dairis Devonte nodded gently to him: "Albus has gone to Mogadishu to participate in a meeting of senior wizards in Wisengamo...it will take at least two days to return."
It seemed that he was rushing again today, and Jon could not help but breathe a sigh of relief.
"In fact, you don't need to worry about the third project." Dairis-Dewent thought he was worried about the third project. She comforted: "The third project of the Goblet of Fire has always been fixed... The cup is placed in a position, and the Warriors enter the field one after the other according to the previous scores, passing through the obstacles, and the person who finally gets the Goblet is the champion.
"You have such a big advantage..." Principal Derwent continued to explain: "By then, you may have picked up the Goblet of Fire before others can enter the field."
Jon nodded and looked at the familiar look of Principal Dairis Derwent. He couldn't help but curiously asked: "Have you participated in the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Yeah!" Principal Derwent chuckled: "In the Triwizard Tournament in 1672, I was the warrior of Hogwarts... At that time I almost missed and let the handsome guy from Durmstrand take it. To the trophy, luckily I surpassed him at the last moment!"
...
Several principals ran over to give Jon advice.
Seeing them like that, they have participated in or planned competitions when they were young...
Others expressed appreciation for Jon's expression and appreciation during the second project.
Take the Dexter Foster principal who led the England team to the World Cup.
"What a brave thing!" Principal Foster gave Jon a thumbs up: "I'm curious, you were actually assigned to Hufflepuff instead of our Gryffindor..."
"Actually, a few years ago, the Sorting Hat also considered asking me whether to go to Gryffindor..." As he said, Jon looked at the dirty hat on the horn bench: "Of course. I chose Hufflepuff in the end."
"It's a pity." Principal Foster shook his head.
"What's the regret!" Principal Derwent gave him a blank look, then gave Jon a thumbs up approvingly.
...
I chatted with them for more than ten minutes, and looked a little tired of seeing those principals.
"Should we play bridge?" Principal Dexter Foster suggested.
He waved his magic wand, a bridge appeared in front of him, and then several other principals quickly gathered around.
They stopped paying attention to Jon.
Jon had to look away from the wall full of portraits of the principal.
He began to look at Dumbledore’s office again, and Jon’s gaze swept over the silverware that Dumbledore had placed here, as well as the basin, and finally moved to the shelf behind the door to perch—the bright red one. Colored birds.
Phoenix Fox, she looked at Jon with some caution.
"Two days ago, Dumbledore blamed this stupid bird!" Principal Phineas-Black rushed to a portrait on the right hand side of Jon, and he said a little gleefully: "Because it is so casual. It left a mark on people."
Jon nodded, and then approached Fox carefully.
"Thank you for your help last time, Fox..." Jon said softly.
The big bright red bird showed an expression of dissatisfaction to Jon, and then opened her long beak, as if provoking, ordering Jon not to approach her.
However, Jon was prepared, he took out a herbal bag from his pocket.
"Fox, look at this..." Jon took out a few pieces of perilla leaves from the inside.
This herb does not have a high potion value, but it is also very precious...because they can emit a strange fragrance, and can even be used as a spice; at the same time, it can change the taste of some difficult potions.
Fox couldn't help sniffing his nose.
Phoenix is ​​very picky, so he doesn't eat ordinary food... But some precious herbs are quite tempting to them.
Jon just put a perilla leaf on Dumbledore's desk, and then took the initiative to step back.
Fox looked at the purple leaf, and then she couldn't help it... She flew over, took the leaf, and kept chewing in her mouth.
"Don't worry, there's more!" Jon took out another slice and threw it away.
Fox caught it sensitively with his long beak...
Leaf after leaf was swallowed by Fox...Finally ~EbookFREE.me~ she couldn't stand this temptation at all.
Fox flew straight to Jon, staring hungrily at the herbal bag in his hand.
"It's okay, you're welcome!" Jon said loudly, then opened the whole herbal bag completely.
Phoenix has stretched his head in, feasting...
Jon took the opportunity to gently stroke her wings... She no longer had any resistance.
...
The principals on the wall looked at everything in front of them with a little dumbfoundedness.
"I think..." Phineas Black sighed, "This stupid bird is not saved!"
. m.