Soon, the first Quidditch match of this semester will begin.
Maybe it was a preconceived impression, or maybe it was actually the case. Anyway, Harry always felt that everyone's atmosphere was quite high recently, and the atmosphere between Gryffindor and Slytherin Academy was becoming more and more tense day by day, which made Harry feel very strange—— The first game is not between the two academies!
Draco was a bit stressed as the new Seeker, which was understandable, but...many of the players were actually veteran players. At this time last semester, Harry didn't think the atmosphere was this tense.
"What can you find," Draco slammed a big book in front of him and said viciously, "even if two team members fight in front of you, you can still pass by without blinking an eye and not saying a word. Lower your head and read a book.”
His anger at being completely robbed of the Firewhiskey was not completely exhausted, but he couldn't beat Harry. Harry was also very smart, so he found a corner and flashed back home with the Firewhiskey, and gave away all the wine. Family - Anyway, if you give it to other classmates, Draco will take it back. You don't drink it yourself. It would be a waste to throw it away. If you hide it, Draco will go out of his way to find it. This is just right.
Draco heard that he had given the wine to Charles, so he had no choice but to give it up and grit his teeth to swallow - he couldn't ask Harry's father to spit out the firewhiskey!
So it was foreseeable that he would not give Harry any good looks for a week.
What made him even more frustrated was that Hermione said Harry had done a good job in this matter, and she also thought it was better for them to stop drinking: "Even Geogle and the others only dared to get butterbeer to try, how can you drink firewhiskey! And school rules don’t allow alcohol to be brought into school from outside!”
The only one who understood him was Ron. When this guy heard about this, he was stunned at Harry's boldness. Then he swallowed enviously and regretted: "Firewhiskey is very difficult to deal with. I heard that there is no such thing as us." Underclassmen for sale - Harry shouldn't have sent them all home, keeping one bottle would have opened our eyes! If it were me, I'd be as angry as Malfoy... Oh, come on, I didn't mean Harry did it No, but, but, just keep one bottle! That’s Fire Whiskey, Fire Whiskey!!”
Several other Gryffindor boys next to him nodded, and Hermione angrily told the story and walked away, leaving the boys talking with envy and regret.
——That's not butterbeer, it's firewhiskey, firewhiskey! ! !
This is the unanimous sentiment of all the lower-grade Gryffindor boys who heard this incident. Of course, the evil Malfoy classmates are still their class enemies. This opportunity is rare, and they will never let go of this rare opportunity - this makes them In the next period of time, he would look at Draco with pity or gloating at any time, and occasionally tell Draco a few jokes on purpose, making him even more angry.
Draco almost sneered three times. He couldn't defeat the idiot Harry, so couldn't he deal with a few Gryffindors?
So in the next few weeks, the drama of 'Malfoy bullying Gryffindor' that had not happened for a long time was staged again. The firepower was successfully spread, but Neville was not caught. As a result, he was in a trance and realized that the classmates around him Several of them fell down, either being inexplicably petrified and thrown into a corner where no one could find them, or they somehow ate the wrong thing and ended up in the men's room falling in love with each other. The most pitiful one was Ron, who actually tap danced and kicked... the women's room. !
In the end, he was pulled out crying by his sister Ginny with a blushing face.
………………
Since this was not the first time Draco had done this, he had kept his tail clean, so when Harry silently went into the cellar and asked him, he said very confidently: "Who knows what happened to them? They ate Why are you blaming me for pronouncing the wrong spell on the wrong thing? I have never learned curses!! If you have the ability, you can provide evidence, otherwise don't ask me to accuse you!"
Draco said this very leisurely, playing with a newly bought brooch in his hand nonchalantly, as if these things really had nothing to do with him, but this was not the first day Harry had met him, and he understood him instantly. Meaning————If you have the ability, you can use Legilimency on me!
"Oh, don't expect to find his little tail now," a Slytherin senior sister was sitting on the sofa, painting her nails, smiling beautifully, "Don't mess with him, Xavier, the challenge will start soon. It’s a Dizzy competition, let him catch a few more Golden Snitches and his temper will improve.”
The story of Harry tricking Draco spread like wildfire in Slytherin. Many people who originally thought he was just an ordinary nerd thought he was quite interesting. I have to say that the note that made Draco furious, and His act of daring to jump off the broom to catch the Golden Snitch improved Harry's image a lot. Many Slytherin seniors who actually like this cute junior, but have been waiting for a long time because of their stance, will occasionally joke with him. ——For some people, beautiful juniors and cute juniors are scarce resources, regardless of college.
Harry didn't know about this kind of hidden rule, but his feeling was that no matter which school he went to, athletes were always welcome. Look, he just caught the Golden Snitch once. His popularity is much better than before.
"You can sit down," Daphne Greengrass said softly, with a slight smile. She is a beautiful girl with blond hair and blue eyes, so she only needs this little smile to look sweet enough. "Would you like to join us for afternoon tea, Xavier? Or can I do the same as Bsie and call you Harry?"
Harry had just thought about it and was about to agree. Draco, who had turned his head to the side just now, started shouting: "You haven't come over yet. You have to stand up and ask you to come over before you condescend to come over, right? Who said you want to come over with me?" Sharing the chocolate cake made by my mother?”
Harry could only smile apologetically at the group of girls and then sat down with Draco.
…………
Narcissa's belly gradually grew bigger, and she gradually stopped attending tea parties and dinners. When she had nothing to do, she liked to read her son's letters and laugh at some of the things in them, such as Harry bullying him again, Lockhart really being an idiot, Que. The Diqi training was too intense, and Harry's popularity became even better. Many girls began to secretly inquire about him, and he even wrote about the Firewhiskey incident that was justifiable... and by the way, he approved all these girls. Counting them all, there are not enough slaps to make him say "just average".
Narcissa was amused and puzzled. Draco cared about his friends just as he cared about his toy broom when he was three years old. He would not let anyone else touch it, let alone lend it out. At that time, every little friend who visited his broom would be treated with suspicion by him. He looked around with his eyes, lest there be a thief or someone strong enough to snatch the broom away.
"Childish." This was her sigh.
How can it not be called childish for a twelve-year-old boy to do something he only did when he was three years old?
But there was something about it that made her frown slightly - Draco's reaction seemed to be even more extreme than when he was three years old. At least, according to his selection criteria, Harry couldn't choose a girlfriend from a well-known family in the UK. Could it be that , without her knowing, Draco has become so picky?
If Lucius wants to choose a suitable fiancée for him, it may be difficult - nobles whose circles are too small and too picky sometimes have such difficulties.
Her eyes slowly moved to the end, and she chuckled again - Draco was always writing about how much he missed her craftsmanship.
It's time to go to the kitchen. She stretched a little and stood up, ready to make some delicious snacks for her son.
——But will this really not make you gain weight? Do you need to reduce the portion of these sweets?
Narcissa thought about her son's waistline revealed by her cousin, and felt relieved. Although Draco's waistline was a little too much poisoned by coke and cheeseburgers after a holiday, it was just a summer camp and he lost weight again.
………………
Of course, Draco wouldn't know that he was almost cut off from the dessert portion. If he knew, he would probably be in a worse mood.
He was in Potions class at the moment.
When Felton was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he liked to pick on him. Unfortunately, when this man became Draco's favorite Potions professor, he still liked to pick on him, as if this man named James Felton was not picky for a day. He felt uncomfortable in his heart.
"Do you know how many pieces of narcissus tubers you put in? Even if they are very small, can they be called powder by you? What I ask you to do is to grind the tubers into powder, not to use medicinal lovage Put the spices in your mouth, and besides, you added the ingredients half a second too early, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco gritted his teeth. Lovage is a raw material for making hallucinogens. The volatile smell can easily make people irritable and reckless. Non-medicinal lovage is used as a spice - Felton was mocking him for being too impatient.
"Draco's tubers are obviously ground..." Pansy retorted in disbelief, feeling that Felton was simply blind. "They were just powder when they were added, Professor, didn't you see? You can't pick on him unreasonably... …”
"That's because your tubers are not even pieces, Miss Parkinson." Felton's cold words made her face turn red, then she lowered her head and retorted in a low voice, "I haven't reached that step yet... …I only grinded it once and it wasn’t finished at best.”
"I think Professor Snape should have taught you that most of the potion materials need to be processed in advance. The crucible is a pot of constantly changing potions. It requires your full attention. The simpler the potion, the more so."
After Felton finished speaking, without even flicking his wand, he emptied the cauldron in front of Draco, the color of which was actually better than anyone else in the classroom, and then turned around to inspect the cauldrons of other students.
After the class was over, Draco was the first to rush out. His expression was as stiff as if he was petrified. He rushed to the Potions Professor's office and said the password angrily: "Paspers."
The door opened slowly, and a trace of steam slowly leaked out. He strode in, and a question immediately came from inside: "Draco? Are you finished class?"
"Why didn't you guess it was Felton?" Draco said angrily, and walked into the inner room. As expected, he saw Harry fretting over a piece of parchment, waving his wand and brewing some potion. He sat down. Sitting on a large chair with thick cushions, I fanned my nose with my hand, frowned and wondered, "What does this smell like?"
"Well, although the walking rhythm sounds similar, you are not the same weight." Harry answered this question first, and then answered the next question, "This is the recipe Qiu taught me, and I am trying to make it. It is said that this is a delicacy from her hometown...well, but I'm not very good at cooking it..."
Draco felt that if he were drinking water right now, he would be squirting it out in one breath.
"You're cooking on Felton's property?! Why don't you go to the kitchen!"
"I want to go too," Harry said with a frown, "but it is said that Professor Lockhart always likes to go there recently to guide the house elves in cooking some 'delicacies from all over the world'... I don't really want to ask for trouble."
Draco looked at him from head to toe suspiciously: "Are you sure he's going to teach the house elves how to cook delicacies from all over the world? Instead of blocking you?"
Felton openly led them both away from every class, which made him inexplicably obsessed (Draco said he was just trying to gain fame, he could see it!) Harry's Lockhart appeared in every corner of Hogwarts... even in the Herbology class. His figure! He even ignored Professor Sprout's dissatisfied look and held Harry in his arms to talk.
In the end, Harry really couldn't stand this kind of "taking up class time to get close to each other" and winked at Draco across from him. The latter had already lost his patience and immediately pulled out a mandrake and quietly threw it at the other's feet. , and then Lockhart, the only one in the entire greenhouse who wore earmuffs due to style issues, was sent to the hospital wing to sleep.
"And! Why don't you turn into someone else?" Draco said, "Just use your... mutant powers?"
Harry's hand holding the spoon paused, and there was a blank look on his face for a moment: "...I forgot."
Yes, he can become something else! And with one new look at a time, you can avoid being caught up in or familiar with Lockhart as much as possible.
"No, forget it," Draco seemed to have thought of something and showed a disgusted expression, "It would be terrible if he shamelessly wants to taste your cooking. I don't want to throw away the whole plate of food."
"...It's okay to taste it. Don't do this." Harry said.
Draco hates Lockhart so much that he hates it to the point of being mysophobic. Every time he comes back from Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he has to take a shower and change clothes, and also replaces all the used stationery - it can be called a luxury, but he can afford it. .
"What are you doing now?" Draco stretched himself out on the sofa and raised his chin, "What kind of equipment is this? Did Felton give it to you?"
From a distance, I thought it was a crucible, but when I looked closer, I realized that it was not a crucible - the shape of the crucible was like a drop of water with half of its sharp corners cut off, but it was not like that when Harry was enjoying the flames and baking them under his hands. The shape was not exactly like a water drop, but it was really pointed at the top, with curved lines all over the body, and the bottom was flat. Draco turned his head and looked at it, and felt that its bottom should be a hexagon.
"I'm making fried... buns." Harry struggled to pronounce the word accurately. "Haven't you seen this? This utensil was given to me by Professor Felton. He said that it can withstand magical firepower. Such a pointed lid can Food stews faster... Well, it seems to have a heat preservation function, do you understand it as a magic version of a multi-function rice cooker?"
Draco: "Jianbao...no, fried...fried, stuffed," he couldn't pronounce the word correctly, so he frowned and bit it again, "What is that thing? Is it delicious? And why did Felton give you this thing?" ?”
"I remember they were sold in Chinatown, and they were said to be quite delicious." Harry shrugged, "Professor Felton said it was given to him by someone else, and I liked it so he gave it to me. He doesn't know how to cook anyway."
He lifted the lid and let Draco listen to the sizzling sound in the pot: "It can be used to make various foods. The fried buns are fried, just like fried dumplings."
Although fried buns are rare, fried dumplings are still quite popular. At least there is a restaurant near Harry's home that has this dish.
The lid of the pot was lifted, and the traces of hot steam mixed with the wonderful aroma were revealed. Draco couldn't help but swallow his saliva, but he still controlled his manner well: "When can we leave?"
——The implication is, when will this thing be ready?
Harry picked up a pair of chopsticks and flipped one of the buns skillfully, looked at it, and shrugged, "About two minutes."
Five minutes later, they were walking down the corridor of Hogwarts carrying a multi-layered crisper.
"I really don't understand why you are so fond of cooking," Draco pouted as he walked away, "and I really don't understand why you left six buns for Felton."
The Chinese word 'fried bun' is difficult for him to pronounce, so 'baozi' is easier - in English anyway.
"I don't understand why, Professor Felton gave me such a useful pot, don't I need to keep the finished product as a thank you?" Harry touched his nose, confused, "Why do you feel so bad about Professor Felton? I think Professor Felton is not bad."
"That's for you," Draco said, with a strange expression. "He was terribly gentle with you."
"Actually, it's pretty much the same," Harry said. "He was also very strict when I was helping with the potion materials, and his words were not gentle - but he still lent me a lot of books to read after that."
"Anyway, no matter who he is, he just doesn't like me, and he likes you very much." Draco came to this conclusion regardless, and turned his gray-blue eyes to the fried buns, "You really Want to give half to Qiu Zhang?
"
When the buns came out of the pot just now, Harry picked up one, blew on it, and after thinking about Draco's trembling hands when holding chopsticks in America, he just stretched out his chopsticks and fed it to Draco, asking him to help him taste it.
Draco took the bun away with his mouth and glanced over to see Harry packing the rest. Like Chinese pan-fried dumplings, the pan-fried buns have a golden, crispy bottom, but the chewy outer skin broke when he bit into it, and the boiling soup that gushed out almost made him let go and scream to drop the buns. Come down.
"Eh, is it hot?" Harry looked at him with his eyes wide open and took deep breaths several times. He picked up a bun in confusion, took the other hand that had been cleaned of oil and flour, held the bottom and opened his mouth to bite it, and then he He let out a weird scream of being burned - obviously he just followed the recipe. Although it seemed to be successful, he still didn't know enough about this kind of delicacy.
The last two people walked out of the potions office with their tongues hanging out - although the large amount of gravy contained in the buns was delicious, it was too hot. Harry blew on the skin of the fried buns, but was burned by the soup inside. Pain in the tip of the tongue.
But then again, this Chinese delicacy is so delicious that they almost swallowed it.
"This is the recipe Qiu gave me, and of course it's half hers," Harry said. "The secrets to making pleats and fermenting the dough were also told to me after she asked her mother in a letter."
"You just made twenty, gave six to Felton, and seven to your senior Qiu. As a result, we can only eat seven to share?" Draco complained, "In that case, why didn't you make more in the first place? Do some!”
"Um, aren't you going to eat tonight..."
After chatting all the way and walking for about ten minutes, Harry and the others came to the door of the Ravencw lounge. The eagle in front of the door raised his eyelids and asked a question in a dull voice: "When the car turns right, Which tire doesn’t spin?”
Draco: "...What if a wizard-born person stands in front of it?! And there must be something wrong with it. There is no tire that doesn't rotate when the car turns!"
Harry sighed and replied: "Spare tire... Seriously, who gave Ying Nian a brain teaser?"
Draco: "…………"
The door opened obediently, and as soon as Harry walked in with the crisper box in hand, he found that one or two of the few Quidditch boys in his college and other girls were surrounding Zhang Qiu, most of whom were still holding brooms. Oh, apart from this, there is another thing that is consistent - everyone's expressions are not very beautiful, and the central character Zhang Qiu looks like she is about to cry. When she saw Harry, she shrugged her nose and burst into tears. Just like when she was chopping garlic, it came out when she brushed it.
Harry's jaw almost dropped in shock: "...What happened?!"
As far as he knew, didn't the school team have Quidditch training today? It is difficult to snatch the rights to use the venue from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Why didn't Ravencw's team take the opportunity to train for a few hours, instead of everyone sitting here around a crying Zhang Qiu? Why did Zhang Qiu cry again?
"Ha... Harry, is that a bun in your hand?" Zhang Qiu sniffed every time he said a word, bursting into tears, "Can you give me something to eat? I... I... I kind of... miss me." Mom made the buns."
The seniors around her hurriedly came over and cursed a plate, and Harry quickly sat over. The seniors also made room for this junior, divided the buns into seven, and after thinking about it, they took extra ones. One, by the way, warned in a cautious voice: "Be careful because it's hot - I even burned my tongue when I took the first bite."
"I know..." Zhang Qiu sniffed, cried miserably, picked up a bun with a handkerchief, bit it down, and then cried even harder, "I miss my mother..." She Said quietly.
Harry was sweating profusely and was very frightened by Zhang Qiu like this. A senior standing behind the sofa with a broom said: "Qiu blew up the crucible during the experiment today - we all thought she was fine, but we didn't expect to find out during training. No, she just started crying after not catching the Golden Snitch for thirty minutes."
A senior sister shook her head: "Based on the remaining substances in the laboratory... it seems that a substance has been accidentally created. As long as the gas is inhaled, it will make people's mood extremely slack and low, and even activate negative emotions... To be honest Similar strange things appear every year, how many times has this happened?”
The magical world is such a strange place, and weird results can always be achieved unintentionally.
"This... this is not the point of the problem," Harry's mouth opened wider: "Did you send her to the hospital wing? Is there any solution?"
The senior sister spread her hands and expressed her helplessness: "If there was a solution, she wouldn't be sitting here crying."
"Of course the best sedatives can temporarily offset this situation, but without the raw materials for the medicine, Qiu can only wait until the effect of the medicine wears off before he can stabilize properly..." The Quidditch captain scratched his hair with both hands, looking very nervous. Worried, "It's the weekend in a few days - we're about to face off against Hufflepuff. How can Xiaoqiu play like this?"
Only then did Harry realize the difficulty - the drug accidentally exploded from the crucible did not cause any serious damage to the human body, but it seriously hindered Zhang Qiu's competition.
How could she get on the broom and play Quidditch under such circumstances? Thinking about that scene, Harry felt terrible.
Although the use of sedatives or stimulants can adjust her condition, the use of such drugs is expressly prohibited in Quidditch! Before taking the field, Wizards players need to be checked like ordinary people to see if they have taken illegal drugs. I heard that the only drug that could not be tested and was helpful to players was the Felixir... But that kind of thing is not easy to get. It is rare and expensive, and it is not worth using it for a game.
"Don't we have any substitute players?" Harry asked worriedly, and looked sympathetically at Zhang Qiu, who was crying harder. She was crying with self-reproach while biting into the bun and sniffing.
"There is only one substitute Seeker," the Quidditch captain sighed, "Chambers, who is in the same year as you, is a little timid, but loves Quidditch very much... I will ask him later. If possible, we have to start training with him starting tonight."
"I'm sorry." Zhang Qiu said with sobs.
"It's not your fault, no one expected it." The Quidditch captain comforted her.
Standing outside the three circles of people inside and outside, Draco coughed a few times and said loudly, "What else are you looking for? The Seeker that every captain dreams of is right in front of you." , but considering that he is the Seeker of Slytherin, this suggestion of causing trouble for his home house is not mentioned. Malfoy is not known for helping others!
Harry, along with the others, scrambled to comfort Zhang Qiu who was extremely sad, without even thinking about this matter...
The author has something to say: Daphne Greengrass, the sister-in-law of Xiao Long's official wife, is actually the same age as him.
I don't know if my left arm is out of breath or something... Anyway, it has been terribly sore for the past few days... and the speed has slowed down. But just go home and sleep for a night and it will be fine...
Speaking of which, dormitories are really not conducive to recuperation. My colds and coughs are much better as soon as I get home.
Ahem, without further ado, the Earl is here, and the first shot of twelve thousand is fulfilled!
Ah, by the way, my English is not good. If anyone knows the English word for steamed buns or fried buns, can you tell me... Here, Sister Zhang Qiu has never said steamed buns in front of British people, so she can’t pronounce it... It seems that the term "baozi" among foreigners is mixed up with steamed buns?
