Vol 2 Chapter 550: IQ decline

November 11, 2012 Chapter 18 Table of Contents Previous Chapter Next Chapter English Harry woke up Sunday morning, and it took him a while to remember why he was so sad and distressed. Scenes from last night came to mind. He sat up, hung the curtains, and was about to talk to Ron, forcing him to believe in himself-only to find that Ron's bed was empty, apparently he went to breakfast.
Harry got dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. He just appeared, and the people after breakfast clapped again. Go to the hall and face those people who treat him as a hero? I'm afraid the prospects are not so optimistic, but stay here? The Griway brothers would push him to the corner and force him to join them. He made up his mind to walk towards the portrait, pulled it away, crawled out, and found himself facing Hermione.
"Hi," she raised the toast wrapped in dining paper in her hand. "I got you this...Want to go for a walk?" "Good idea." Harry was grateful.
They went downstairs, didn't look into the hall, and quickly walked past the population hall, and quickly walked on the lawn leading to the small lake. Damsian's boat stopped by the lake, and its dark reflection was in the water. It's quite cold in the morning. They ate toast as they walked. Harry told her what happened after he left the Griffinton table last night. He was greatly relieved to find that Hermione believed what he said without asking anything.
He told her what it was like in that room after leaving the hall. She said, "Of course I know that you didn't sign up. You can tell by your look after hearing your name in Dumbledore! But the question is who put the name in? Harry, Modi is right. , I don't think any student can do that... They can't fool the goblet or Dumbledore—" "Did you see Ron?" Harry interrupted her.
She hesitated.
"Well, I saw him, he was eating breakfast." "Does he still think I signed up by myself?" "No, I don't think so, not really." She was a little embarrassed.
"Not really, what does that mean?" "Harry, isn't that obvious yet?" She was desperate. "He is jealous." "Jealous?" Harry felt unreasonable. "What is jealous? He wants to make a fool of himself in front of the whole school?" "Well," Hermione explained to him patiently, "you know, you always get attention.
I know it is not your fault. "Seeing him opening his mouth angrily, she quickly added," I know you don't want to, but, uh, you know, at home Ron is going to compete with his brothers. You are his best friend, you are so famous. Every time everyone pays attention to you, he always quietly stepped aside. He was enduring it, although he never mentioned it. This time, I guess, he can't stand it anymore. ""Very good, really good. "Harry said painfully. "You go and tell him that whenever he wants, I'm willing to change with him. Tell him I welcome him to change...for people's attention to my forehead scar..." Hermi En said immediately, "I won't tell him anything. Tell yourself, this is the only solution. "I won't run around with him to mature him." Harry said very loudly, and flew a few owls on a nearby tree. "It may be until I lose my head before he believes that I don't like it all." "Don't laugh." Hermione said softly, "It's not fun at all. "It seems she is nervous. "Harry, I have been thinking, do you know what we should do?" What should we do as soon as we get back to the castle? "I know, kick Ron hard and kick him to—" "It's a letter to Sirius!" You must tell him what happened. He asked you to write to tell Hogwarts what happened. It is possible that he had expected this to happen. I brought a quill pen and some parchment. ""forget it. "Harry looked around to prevent anyone from eavesdropping. The surrounding area was desolate.
"It's just because of my scars that he came to the country. If I told him that someone had signed up for me to participate in the Three Witches Tournament, it would be strange if he didn't rush into the castle immediately." "He wants you to tell him," Hermione Resolute attitude. "No matter what, he will always know about this." "How do you know?" "Harry, this can't be hidden." Hermione was serious. "This competition is very famous, and you are also very famous. It would be strange if there is no news about your competition in the "Daily Prophet". Most of the celebrity books have your name already. You know. Sirius, I believe he would be more than happy to know the news from you." "Okay, okay, I'll write to him." Harry threw the last piece of toast into the lake.
They both stood there, watching the piece of bread float on the water for a while, being rolled into the bottom by a large antenna protruding from the water. They returned to the castle.
"Whose owl should I use?" Harry asked as he went upstairs. "He told me to stop using Hevi." "Ask Ron, can I borrow something—" "I don't want to borrow from him." Harry flatly refused.
"Well, let's borrow one from the school, everyone can use it." They went to Ola Road. Hermione gave Harry a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Harry sat down against the wall and began to write a letter. She wandered around the long perch and observed different owls.
"Dear Sirius, ask me to write to you and tell you what happened in Hogwarts. Now I will tell you.
I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. The Three Witches Tournament will be held this year. I was selected as the fourth contestant on Saturday night. I don't know who put my name in the burning goblet, it's not me anyway. Another player at Hogwarts School is Cedric. Digry, from Haifbuff.
At this point, he stopped writing for a while. He wanted to tell him about the tremendous pressure in his heart since last night. But he didn't know how to express it, so he finally dipped his pen and wrote: I wish you and Udback all the best-Potter. ""It's finished. He stood up and dusted the dander from his robe. At this moment, Haiwei flew down and stopped on his shoulder, stretching out his claws.
"I can't use you." Harry told her, looking around at the school eagles and said, "I must use one of them..." Haiwei yelled and flew away from Harry's shoulder. She flew too suddenly. His claws scratched his shoulder. Harry tied the letter to the leg of a barn owl, and she turned her back to him and ignored him. After the barn owl flew away, Harry reached out to touch her, but she pecked Harry hard and flew to the rafters that he couldn't reach.
"First Ron, then you," Harry said bitterly. "It's not my fault." If Harry thinks things will get better once everyone gets used to him as a player, then he's a big mistake. That's wrong. He inevitably runs into other people as soon as he goes to class. Obviously, like the Griffinton group, others thought that Harry had signed up for the competition himself. Unlike the Griffintons, they are not happy at all.
Normally, the students of Hayfbuff get along well with the students of Griffinton, but now, they all become very indifferent. A herbal medicine class illustrates all this. Obviously, the students of Hayfbaff felt that Harry had robbed their players of the limelight. This may be because they have received too little honor, so they are arguing for Cedric, the man who defeated Griffinton in the Fast Diss game for their honor. Markmes and Flery usually get along well with Harry, and now they don't talk to him. Although they were still playing jumping ball on the same plate, they would laugh sometimes when they saw Harry's jumping ball come out and hit him in the face. Ron didn't talk to Harry either, Hermione sat between them and forced them to talk. Although the two answered her as usual, they didn't look at anyone. Harry felt that Professor Sbert had alienated him a lot—understandably, she was the leader of Hayfbaff.
Under normal circumstances, he is looking forward to taking Hagrid's class, but taking the magical creature protection class means that he will meet people from Slindling. This is his first meeting with them as a player.
Unexpectedly, Malfoy came to Hagrid's cabin with the sneer he often had.
"Hey, behold, the players are here." He deliberately said to Kleiber and Gore where Harry could hear. "Have you brought an autograph? It's better to have an autograph now. I'm worried he won't live long...Half of the Three Witches contestants are dead...How long do you think you can survive, Potter? You can play the egg in less than ten minutes from the beginning of a mission." Kleiber and Gore burst into laughter. They were flattering Malfoy. Malfoy didn't say anything, because Hagrid turned out from the back of the house, holding a crumbling tower made of wooden boxes, and each wooden box contained a large Skus. Frighteningly, Hagrid began to explain why the Skus would slaughter each other, because their imprisoned energy was too strong. The solution is for each student to tie a belt to each Skus and take him for a walk. The only benefit of this plan is that it completely distracted Malfoy from Harry.
"Take this thing for a walk?" He looked into the box, feeling disgusting. "Then where should the belt be tied? Around the sting, on the tail, or on the suction cup?" "Tie in the middle." Hagrid said as he demonstrated. "Uh, you might have to wear dragon leather gloves as a special precaution. Harry — you come over and help me look at this big one... In fact, his intention is to talk to Harry alone, until everyone else After taking Skus away, he said to Harry very seriously, "Harry, then, are you going to compete as a school player? "One of the players in the school. "Harry corrected him.
The nearsighted eyes under Hagrid's thick brows looked worried. "Harry, who put your name in, do you have a clue?" "You believe it wasn't me?" After hearing Hagrid's words, Harry had a little difficulty expressing his gratitude for it.
"Of course I believe it." Hagrid snorted. "If you say it's not you, it's not you. I believe it, and Dumbledore believes it, everyone believes it." "I really want to know who did it." Harry was very painful.
The two looked at the lawn, and the class spread out, with great difficulty, Skus was three feet long.
Strong and powerful, they are no longer colorless and shellless, and grow a thick layer of shiny gray armor. They look like giant scorpions and stretched crabs. It's a pity that it's still headless.
Now they are very strong, almost uncontrollable.
"It seems that they are having a good time, eh?" Hagrid was very happy. Harry thought he was talking about Skus. His classmates must be unhappy, because any Skus could jump away with a "call" every moment, usually a few yards away. At that time, the person pulling it was miserable and would be pulled to the ground by it. Now a few people over there are already on the ground, struggling to stand up desperately.
"Well, Harry, I don't know." Hagrid sighed suddenly and looked at him worriedly. "The school player, why did you run into everything?" Harry didn't answer, yes, it seemed that everything was caught up with him. More or less as Hermione told him when he was walking by the lake, as far as she knew, that was why Ron stopped talking to him.
The next days at Hogwarts were terrible for Harry. He had experienced similar situations before. It was in the second grade, and most people in the school during those months suspected that he attacked his classmates. But Ron was by his side to support him. But now, he thought, if Ron, a friend, was around to support him, he would be able to deal with all the other students in the school. But if Ron didn't want to talk to him, he wouldn't try to persuade him to talk to him. Nevertheless, he felt very lonely, bearing the disgusting glances cast from all directions.
Even though he hates the attitude of the Haifu Bafu class students, he can still understand them, after all, they have their own players to support. He hadn't expected them to give him anything other than malicious insults from the Slindling group. Among them, he is very unpopular. Because he often helps Griffinton beat them in fast disc games and the Interlibrary Champions Cup. He had expected Ronnicklau to support him like Cedric, but he was wrong. Most of Ronnicklau's classmates thought that he would cheat the burning goblet by tricks in order to make his reputation better, and let it accept his name.
In fact, Cedric values ​​the identity of the player more than him. He has an extraordinary appearance: a tall nose, black hair, and gray eyes. It is difficult to say whether it was him or Werther at that time. Karen is more admired. At lunch, Harry saw the group of sixth-grade girls who had enthusiastically asked for Karen to sign, begging Cedric to sign their schoolbags.
Sirius hasn't replied yet. Haiwei refused him to approach. Professor Trorena more often said that his death date was approaching. And Professor Philip Wick's summoning class he felt more and more difficult.
His grades are too poor and he does some extra homework. He is the only student besides Neville to do extra homework.
After Philip Wick’s class, Hermione wanted to comfort him and said,
Harry, it’s really not that difficult. You just didn’t listen attentively.
She has aroused criticism from others in all classes. Think of it as a dust board, wastebasket, and lunatic viewer.
"Can't figure out what is going on?" Harry said sadly. A group of laughing girls embraced Cedric. Diggery walked past him, all looking at him with weird eyes, as if he was a very large Skus. "Forget it, I have to take pharmacy class in the afternoon." Pharmacy class has always been frightening. Especially these days, everything in class is torment for Harry. It was the most unpleasant thing Harry could imagine to spend an hour and a half in the basement with Snape and the group of Schindlings. Because all of them changed their way to punish him who dared to be a player. Last Friday, in the constant whisper of "Ignore them, ignore them, ignore them" by Hermione, he barely survived. It seems that today is not much better.
After lunch, he and Hermione went to the basement together and found the group of Schlindling guys around the door, all with a big badge on the front of their robe. chapter. Later he saw the same words written on it in shiny red letters, the words gleaming under the dim backing. It says: Support Cedric. Diggery-the real Hogwarts player! "Do you like it? Potter." Seeing Harry approaching, Malfoy asked loudly, "That's not all, you see—" He pressed the chapter to his chest, the words on it disappeared, and another line appeared. The green word: Potter smells like the sky.
They burst into laughter. Hold down the badge each one. "Potter stinks." It all lit up, and Harry was flushed with green lights.
"Oh, it's fun." Hermione mocked Bansi. Parkinson and her group. They laughed louder than anyone else. "Very smart." Ron, Dean and Seymours stood leaning against the wall. He didn't laugh, but he didn't defend Harry either.
"Grinzo? Want one?" He handed one to Hermione. "I have a lot! Take it, but don't touch my hands. I just washed them. You know I don't want a biracial guy to get my hands dirty." Harry's anger over the past few days surged into his heart. . He unknowingly pulled out his wand, and the people around him backed straight into the corridor with fright.
"Harry!" Hermione told him.
"Potter, come on, then." Malfoy was calm, and drew out his wand. "Now Modi is not here, he can't take care of you. Come on, come on if you have the guts." In an instant, they looked at each other and shot at the same time.
"Fanan Cruz!" Harry shouted.
"Deng Shuoju puppet." Malfoy screamed.
The two magic wands flew into the air, facing the stage from different angles, sparks splashing everywhere. Harry's wand hit Gore's face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Gore yelled and covered his nose with his hands, his nose spitting out of his nose. Hermione cried in fright, covering her mouth and sobbing.
"Hermien!" Ron ran in to see what was wrong with her.
Harry turned to see Ron take Hermione's hand covering her mouth. She can't flatter her look. Her front teeth were already big, but now they are growing at an alarming rate. Her front teeth grew longer and longer, and looked more like a beaver. The front teeth grew to the lower lip and extended to the chin. Feeling this change, she was frightened and found a cry of fear.
"Why is it so noisy?" A dead voice sounded, and Snape came.
The people in Slindling class rushed to explain. Snape stretched out a yellow finger and pointed at Malfoy, "You said." "Teacher, Polly attacked me." "We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry cried.
"He hit Gore, look." Snape looked at Gore, his face was the same as the toadstool pictured in the books at home.
"Gore, go to the hospital and see." Shi Gangpi calmly ordered.
"Malfo hit Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" He forced Hermione to show Snape the tooth. She tried to cover her teeth with her hands, but it was very difficult because they had grown to the collar. Parkinson and the other girls all smiled and bent over. They pointed to Hermione behind Snape.
Snape looked at Hermione indifferently, and said, "It's no different." Hermione sobbed, eyes full of tears. Turned around and ran, ran all the way up the corridor, disappearing from view.
Harry and Ron yelled at Snape at the same time. Their voices echoed in the stone hall, shocking. It was too loud and loud, Snape didn't hear what they were calling him, but he also got a general idea.
"Let me think about it," he said in his softest tone. "50 points. Potter and Weasley are locked up for a week each. Go in now, or another week of lockdown." Harry's ears roared. It wasn't fair, he couldn't curse Snape into filthy fragments. He passed Snape and Ron to the back of the dungeon, and threw his schoolbag heavily on the table. Ron was shaking with anger. At that moment, it felt like returning to the past. But Ron turned away again and sat with Dean and Simos, leaving Harry sitting there alone. On the other side of the basement, Malfoy turned his back to Malfoy and pressed his badge, smiling triumphantly. The light of "Potter's stench" came on again.
Class started, and Harry sat there staring at Malfoy, imagining all the horrors he would encounter. It would be great if he could cast Crushertes spell. He will definitely turn Malfoy into that spider, with his feet upright, struggling and twisting.
"Antidote!" Snape looked around at everyone, his cold black eyes gleaming unpleasantly. "You should all have the secret recipe ready. I hope you make it carefully, and then we will choose someone to try." Snape and Harry looked at each other, and Harry knew what was waiting for him. Snape wanted to poison him. Harry imagined him raising the big steam boiler, 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, smiled at Harry, and walked towards Malfoy who was standing at the front of the classroom.
"What's the matter?" Snape asked.
"Teacher, I want to take Harry Potter upstairs." Snape hooked his nose down and stared at Colin, his smile gradually disappearing.
"Potter has to brew the potion for half an hour," Snape said coldly. "He will go upstairs when class is over." Colin blushed.
"Old—teacher, Mr. Bagmon looked for him," he said nervously, "All the players have to go, I think they want to take pictures..." If he can stop Colin from saying these last words If they do, Harry is really willing to give him everything they have. He glanced at Ron occasionally, but Ron was staring at the ceiling intently.
"Okay, okay." Snape interrupted. "Potter, leave things here. I hope you will come down to test your antidote later." "Teacher—he must take everything away." Colin whispered, "All the players—" "Enough!" Snape called. "Potter, take your schoolbag, don't let me see you again." Potter shook the bag on his shoulder, stood up and walked towards the door. As he passed through Schlindling's desk, the light from "Potter's stench" shot him from all directions.
As soon as Harry closed the door, Colin began to speak, "It's amazing, isn't Harry? You are a contestant!" "Yeah, it's really amazing." Harry said gravely. They walked along the stairs to the entrance hall. "Colin, why do they want photos?" "I think it's for the Daily Prophet." "Oh." Harry glum, "Do we really need more public attention?" "Good luck! "When Colin said goodbye to him in the room on the right, Harry knocked on the door and walked in.
This classroom is quite small, and most of the desks have been moved to the back to leave a large space in the middle. The three of them have been sitting there long ago. A piece of long velvet covers the blackboard, and behind the velvet-covered desk are five chairs. Neutrogena. Bagmont was sitting on one of them, talking to a wizard wearing purple and red alms. Harry had never seen that wizard before.
Witt. As usual, Karen stayed in the corner with a melancholy expression, not talking to anyone. Cedric and Fulu were chatting. Harry had never seen Fulu so happy. She shook her head from time to time, so that she could attract attention with her hair. A man with a big belly is holding a camera that is faintly smoking far away, fattening her with the corner of his eye.
Bagmon suddenly recognized Harry, stood up quickly, and jumped forward, "Ha, he is coming! Contestant number four! Come in, Harry, come in, there is nothing to be afraid of, just a wand measurement ceremony, and the other judges are very Almost there. ""Wand measurement?" Harry was nervous and repeated.
"We must check to make sure that your wands are all in order and there is nothing wrong with it.
You know, they are important tools for you to complete the tasks you face. "Bagmont said," the expert is upstairs now, with Dumbledore. We have to take a picture. This is Little.
Scott. "He added, and made a gesture to the purple-robed wizard," she wrote a small report about the contest for the "Prophet Daily". ""It may not be too young, Holder. "Little. Scott kept his eyes on Harry.
Her hair was carefully combed into stiff curls, which looked strange compared to her big chin. She wears glasses with jewels. The nails are two inches long, except for the crimson nail polish. Her fat hand clutched her crocodile leather bag tightly.
"Before we start, I wonder if I can talk to Harry a few words?" she asked Bagmont, but still stared at Harry. "The youngest player, you know... add some color." "Of course!" Bagmon said, "Harry doesn't object, right?" "This—" Harry hesitated.
"Honey," Little before a blink of an eye. Scott's scarlet hand had grabbed Harry's arm—her strength was amazing—and led him out of the room again. She opened the door of the nearest room.
"We don't want to stay in such a noisy place." She said, "Let me see, ah, yes, it's not bad, warm and comfortable." But this is a closet with a broom. Harry stared at her.
"Come on, honey, it's okay," Little. Scott called again. She sat on an upside-down basket by herself, staggering. She pushed Harry into the closet, closed the door, and they were immersed in darkness. "Look now..." She opened the crocodile leather bag, pulled out a small handful of candles, lit them with a light wave of her hand, and stayed in mid-air, so that they could clearly see their work.
"Harry, don't you mind if I use a shorthand pen? Then I can talk to you normally and freely." "What for?" She smiled happily. Harry counted that she had three golden teeth. She reached into her purse again and took out a green quill pen and a roll of parchment. She spread the parchment on a wooden box. The solid wood box is Mrs. Scott's multifunctional magic decontamination device. She put the nib into her mouth, sucked it like something delicious, and put it upright on the parchment.
It stood firmly on it, trembling slightly.
"Testing, my name is Little. Scott is a reporter for the Daily Prophet." Harry looked down at the quill. Little. Only then did Scott speak, and the pen began to slide on the parchment. He wrote: "Charming Little. Scott, 43 years old, blonde. Her relentless pen has pierced a lot of exaggeration. ." "Excellent," Little. Scott tore off the end of the parchment, crumpled it up and stuffed it into the bag. She approached Harry and asked, "So, Harry, what made you determined to participate in the Three Witches Tournament?" "This—" Harry came again. He was attracted by the pen. Although he didn't say anything, the pen went back and forth on the parchment, and then he saw a sentence: An ugly scar is a memento of a tragic past. It ruined Harry Potter's charming face, his eyes... ""Harry, leave it alone," Little. Scott was determined. Harry looked at her reluctantly. "Then, why are you down? Are you determined to sign up for this competition? ""I do not have. Said Harry. "I don't know how my name got into the burning goblet. I didn't put it. "Little bit Kitt and raised her black and thick eyebrows. "Go ahead, Harry, there is no need to worry about getting into trouble. We all know that you shouldn't sign up at all." But don't worry, our readers love rebels. "But I didn't sign up," Harry repeated, "I don't know who—" "How do you feel about the task ahead?" "Little. Scott asked, "Excited?" worrying and nervous? "I haven't thought about it seriously... Yes, I think it's nervous. "When he said this, he felt nervous and uncomfortable.
"There have been player deaths in the past, right?" Little. Scott said briskly, "Have you ever thought of this?" "Uh, they said it would be safer this year." The quill quickly wrote on the parchment, back and forth like skating.
"Of course, you have faced death head-on, haven't you?" Little. Scott watched him closely. "What do you think of its impact on you?" Harry said again: "This—" Do you think past traumas have made you more interested in improving yourself? Live up to your reputation? Do you think you were tempted to sign up for the Three Witches Tournament this time because..." "I didn't sign up. "Hart was angered.
"Do you remember your parents?" Little Scott said over his head.
"I don't remember." "What do you think they would think if they knew you were going to participate in the Three Witches Tournament? Are you proud of you? Worried about you? Still angry?" Harry was really annoyed this time. How did he know what his parents would think, if they were still alive. He was aware of her concerned gaze, frowned, avoided her gaze, and read the sentence just written by the pen: "When our topic turned to his parents who had no impressions, he was so green His eyes were filled with water." "There are no tears in my eyes!" Harry shouted.
Little. Before Scott could say anything, the door of the closet was opened. Harry looked out. The light outside was too strong, and he blinked. Alberts. Dumbledore stood there, looking down at the two people crowded in the closet.
"Dumbledore!" Little. Scott cried happily. Harry noticed that her pen and parchment paper suddenly disappeared from the magic decontamination device. Her crooked fingers hurriedly buttoned the alligator bag. "How are you?" she asked, standing up and reaching out to Dumbledore with a big, thick hand.
"I believe you read the report about the International Wizarding Association meeting I wrote this summer." "It's disgusting," Dumbledore's eyes gleamed. "I especially like you writing me as a stale vagrant." Little Scott didn't feel embarrassed at all. "I think some of your ideas are out of date, Dumbledore, so many wizards on the street..." "I would love to hear the reasoning behind your rude comments." Danbo He bowed politely and said with a smile, "But I’m afraid this issue will be discussed later, and the wand measurement ceremony will begin. If one of the contestants is hidden in the closet with the broom, it won’t work. "Harry was very happy to get rid of Little. Scott, he hurried back to the classroom. The other players sat on the chair by the door. He quickly sat down next to Cedric and saw the table covered with velvet cloth. Four referees were sitting there: Professor Kakrov, Mrs. Massim, and Klaus. Mr. and Neutrogena. Bagmon. Little. Scott took a seat and sat down. Harry saw her pull the parchment from her bag again, spread it flat on her knees, sucked on the nib, and put it on the parchment again.
"I'll introduce, Mr. Oliver." Dumbledore sat at the referee's table and said to the players: "He will check your wand to make sure they are in good shape before the game." Harry looked around. I saw an old wizard standing quietly by the window. His eyes were big, but his eyes were dim. Harry was shocked, he had seen him before. He is a wand maker, and three years ago, he bought a wand from Dalegen Street.
"Miss Dimigo, please come out first." Mr. Olivende said and stood in the middle.
Fulu De Lai strode forward and handed him his wand.
"Hmm..." He groaned, his long fingers turning his wand like a baton. The wand gave off some pink and gold fire, and then he put the wand in front of his eyes and observed it carefully.
"Yes, 9.25 inches, not easy to fold, rosewood, and... my God." "It uses Ville wool." Fulu said. "My grandma's." "Yes," Mr. Olivende said, "Yes, although I never use Ville wool to make my own wand, it is still a very sensitive wand... Anyway, each has its own advantages. , As long as it suits you..." Mr. Olivender slid his fingers along the wand, obviously looking for scratches and bumps. Afterwards he murmured: "Archidils!" A bunch of flowers bloomed from the tip of the wand.
"Very good, very good, working in a good state." Mr. Olivende set aside flowers and handed them to Fulu together with the magic wand.
"Mr. Digre, it's your turn." Fulu quietly returned and smiled at Cedric.
"Ha, I made this wand, isn't it?" Mr. Olivender took Cedric's wand, looking more enthusiastic. "Yes, I remember it very clearly, because it was a piece of hair that was plucked from the tail of a particularly good male unicorn. That male unicorn had 17 hands. I grabbed its tail and it almost didn’t Hit me to death with the horns. It is 12.25 inches long, flexible, very good, and in good working condition. Do you wipe it regularly?" "I only wiped it with oil last night." Cedric grinned.
Harry looked down at his wand, fingerprints everywhere. He grabbed the stuffed child on his knees into a ball, trying to wipe the wand clean secretly. Several golden sparks shot out from its bottom.
Fulu De Laigao glanced at him very arrogantly, and he did not dare to wipe it again.
Mr. Olivende sent out a string of silver smoke rings from Cedric's wand. He was very satisfied and cried, "Mr. Kren, it's your turn." Witt. Karen stood up, bowed his head, and walked quickly towards Olivende. He drew out his wand, frowned, and stood there with his hands in his robe pockets.
"Yeah." Mr. Olivende said, "If I am not mistaken, this was made by Griffinton. He is a good stick maker. Although the styles he made have always been like mine..." He raised Wand, put it in front of your eyes and turn around and observe very carefully. "Yes, hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" He glanced at Karen, and Karen nodded, "It's thicker than normal, quite stable, 10.25 inches...Avis!" The hornbeam was made. There was a gunshot from his magic wand, and several chirping birds grew out of its magic end. They flew out of the window and soared in the bright sunshine.
"Very well," Mr. Olivender returned his wand to Karen. "Who is the last... Mr. Peter?" Hart stood up, passed Karen to Olivender, and he passed the wand.
"Ah, yes." Oliver's dim eyes lit up. "Yes, yes, I still remember." Harry also remembered that everything seemed to have happened only yesterday... On his 11th birthday four years ago, Hagrid took him to the Olivend store to buy a wand. After Olivende measured him, he gave him some magic wands. After he tried it, he felt that the wands in the store were similar. It was not until the end that he found a wand suitable for him. It was made of holly wood, 11 inches long, and contained a feather from a phoenix tail. It was so harmonious with him, which surprised Olivende. "It's weird," he said, "...it's so weird." Harry asked him where it was. Oliver Vander explained that the feathers on this wand had absorbed Voldemort's wand from that one. Pulled from the phoenix of the essence of magic.
Harry never told anyone about this secret. He liked this wand very much. In his opinion, the relationship between it and the Wand of Fordmund is inevitable, like he could not avoid it with Aunt Petunia The relationship is the same. He really hoped that Oliver would not tell the people in the room about it. If he said it, Harry thought of Little. Scott's shorthand pen might explode in excitement, and he thought it was funny.
Olivende spent a long time checking the wand, and finally, a burst of jiujin came out of the wand, and he returned the wand to Harry, saying that it was in excellent working condition.
"Thank you everyone." Dan Bodo stood up. "You can go back to class now, or you can go downstairs to have dinner, because they are about to end—" Today, after finally doing something serious, Harry stood up and was about to leave, and the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared up. voice.
"Taking pictures, Dumbledore, taking pictures!" Bagmon exclaimed excitedly. "The referee and the players took a group photo, what do you think, Little?" "This—, well, take a group photo first." Little. Scott said, staring at Harry again. "Then take some solo photos." It took a long time. No matter where Massim stood, she always blocked others. The photographer had to stand far away to get her picture, but the room was too small, and in the end everyone had to stand and she sat. Kakrov kept twisting his goat's whiskers, trying to curl it up a little. Karen was half hiding, standing behind the crowd. Harry used to think he was used to this kind of thing for a long time, and the photographer seemed to like to let Fu Lu stand in front, but every time Little. Scott always rushed forward to pull Harry into an eye-catching position. She also insisted on taking single photos of the players. Finally we can go.
Harry went to dinner, Hermione was not there. He estimated that she was still repairing her teeth in the hospital. After eating dinner alone, he returned to Griffinton Tower, thinking of the extra homework for the summoning class that had to be completed. In the dorm, he ran into Ron.
"There is an owl waiting for you~EbookFREE.me~ When he entered, Ron came out and pointed to Harry's pillow. The school eagle was waiting for him there.
"Oh." Harry said.
"Tomorrow night we will be locked up in Snape's dungeon." After Ron finished speaking, he ignored Harry and went straight. At that moment, Harry really wanted to chase him out. He didn't know whether he wanted to talk to him or beat him, but both ideas were tempting. Of course Sirius's reply was more tempting by comparison. He went to the barn eagle, took the letter, and opened it.
Harry: Some things are hard to say in the letter. In case the owl is intercepted, it is too dangerous. We need to have a face-to-face talk. Can you guarantee that you will be alone by the Griffinton fire at 1:00 AM on November 22? I know better than anyone that you can take care of yourself. I think as long as you stay around Dumbledore and Modi, no one can hurt you. However, it seems that some people want to give it a try, you know, under the nose of Dan Boduo, it is very dangerous to help you sign up for that competition.
Harry, be alert. Hope you continue to tell me anything unusual that happened. Let me know as soon as possible if you can do it on November 22.
. Rowling Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .