"Bring some help..."
Hermione looked a little hesitant. It wasn't that she didn't want to share this 'honor', but it was just that it was really okay to take unrelated people to open Professor Lockhart's personal letters without his permission... .
However, speaking of it, it is indeed very difficult for myself and Professor Blaine to deal with the fan letters of Professor Lockhart, who is well-known in the European magic world, in half a day.
Thinking of this, Hermione slowly turned back to look at Harry and Ron. As expected, one of them was pretending to repair his glasses, and the other suddenly studied an old-fashioned meteor broom that had almost lost all its branches. No one returned Hermione's gaze.
Everyone in the Gryffindor team who saw this scene covered their mouths and laughed secretly. Fred and George had the most exaggerated expressions, but before they could come up with any jokes, Professor Brain glanced over at them. Fred and George instantly became honest.
The Weasley brothers knew better than anyone that the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was not a generous man.
"If you really don't have it, forget it--"
Amosta gave Hermione an understanding smile, and then left directly.
"You two, you must go to Professor Lockhart's office with me tomorrow, otherwise, you will never learn from my homework!"
"Leave us alone, Hermione, I don't want to do this job again in my life/I'd rather paint the trophy room for Filch again..."
Amosta, who had already walked dozens of feet away, vaguely heard the domineering voice mixed with the strong wind and the wails of the two little wizards.
There were a few young wizards sitting sparsely on the four long tables in the great hall. On the Slytherin side, Malfoy was proudly showing off his newly learned spells to Pansy and Daphne.
On the Hufflepuff side, the fourth-year Cedric and several of his friends were walking towards the hall, arm-in-arm. When passing behind the third-year Chinese girl from Ravenclaw, he quietly threw something into her pocket. This is the third love letter he has sent this semester.
Qiuchang didn't seem to notice, and continued to chat and laugh with Marietta, but based on Amosta's experience in dating in her previous life, this girl with gradually blushing cheeks was probably not far away from being completely ruined.
"Do you have to do this, Professor Blaine?"
Professor McGonagall's complexion was much better than that during the Christmas holidays. One reason was that the heir of Salazar Slytherin had ceased to exist since Amosta entered the school. The other reason was that Headmaster Dumbledore This semester, she spent significantly more time in her office than before. Invisibly, this gave her a sense of security.
Amosta, who had just sat down at the faculty table, pursed her lips and smiled bitterly. When Professor McGonagall called him by his last name, it meant that she had a lot of opinions in her heart.
"To be honest, Amosta, you are probably the most decent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts in the past ten years. Just as you did in your previous classes, you will introduce the experience of fighting against evil to the little wizards. By the way, To teach you some interesting ideas on how to transform your magic spell, I think..."
"Interesting is an understatement to describe Amosta's new spell, Minerva!"
Professor Flitwick stood up from his chair and said enthusiastically,
"That's a spell that only a true genius can create!"
He looked at Amosta and suggested seriously, "After stepping down from the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Amosta, I think you can open a separate course on spell model structure optimization at Hogwarts and merge it into the spell In the advanced classes, I bet the little wizards will fight to get into your class, Amosta!"
No problem, Professor Flitwick, when Dumbledore "goes west", I will return to Hogwarts immediately to retire!
Amosta agreed with a smile. He could see that Professor McGonagall still wanted to continue the topic, so he immediately followed the professor sitting at the end loudly, wearing big glasses and countless chains and beads hanging around his neck. greet,
"What brought you down from the tower, Professor Trelawney?"
"belch--"
Professor Trelawney, who had messy hair, burped and glanced at Amosta dazedly.
"The approaching darkness makes my third eye blurred, Amosta... When did you return to school?"
"The truth of the matter is-"
Professor Flitwick whispered in Amosta's ear, "Sybil has finished the sherry she hid upstairs!"
"Oh, keep your voice down, Professor Flitwick!"
Amosta's face tightened, looking very nervous, "I don't want to be predicted that something bad will happen to me again!"
When the three Harrys, who had to return to the castle due to the sudden and rapid wind and rain, were about to go to the auditorium to replenish their energy, they saw Professor Flitwick laughing so hard that he fell off his stool at the staff table, and Professor McGonagall's cheeks were red, her lips were pursed tightly, and her body was twitching.
And Professor Brain was standing in front of a professor they had never met before, with his hands clasped and his face full of apology.
"What do you two think they were talking about just now?"
After entering the warm lounge, Hermione asked with a thoughtful expression on her face.
"It doesn't matter, Hermione—"
Harry, who woke up early and struggled with the cold rain all morning, said listlessly, "I just want to go back to my warm bed and sleep until Professor Blaine's Defense Against the Dark Arts class on Monday afternoon." get up."
After saying this, Harry left Hermione and Ron and wandered towards the dormitory.
The rainy weather is indeed annoying, but for those who have time to take a leisurely nap in bed, it is really the best weather. On Saturday afternoon, Harry rarely took a hearty nap During this period, Ron seemed to come over and call him, but Harry just muttered something, changed his position, and fell asleep again.
By the time he sat up from the bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes, the dark clouds covering the castle had completely dissipated, and Hogwarts was already bathed in the bright moonlight.
The dark dormitory was silent and there was no one. If Harry guessed correctly, Ron and Seamus should all be playing wizard chess or Gobstone in the lounge below.
Hermione, on the other hand, was either reading and previewing in the library, or writing homework in the lounge.
"Why didn't anyone wake me up for dinner..."
Harry sat dazedly on the bed and complained softly while getting dressed, but in fact he knew that Ron had most likely been here, but he just failed to wake him up.
The air was filled with a slight smell of sweat. The source of the smell was that Harry took off his football uniform and threw it on the floor beside the bed. He threw the uniform into the clothes rack and slowly walked to the desk and opened the window. Disperse the flavor.
The breeze from the Black Lake gradually focused Harry's confused eyes. He sat down and stared at the more than half-written History of Magic paper spread out on the table.
After two minutes of fighting between the villains representing conscience and laziness in Harry's mind, laziness once again stood on the corpse of conscience, declaring its victory.
"Perhaps Hermione can give you some good advice--"
Harry mumbled and closed the parchment, folded it, and stuffed it into his bag. Under the dim light, the black notebook that had been in his bag for a few days was exuding mysterious magic. Harry was silent. Looking at the black notebook, in a daze, he didn't know when, his hand reached for the pen again...
