Alchemy professor at Hogwarts

Chapter 190 The Stuffed Class Schedule

in the afternoon.

Alchemy class in the third grade.

Harry took a seat at the back of the room, and he felt as if he was sitting under a harsh spotlight.

The rest of the class kept sneaking glances at him, as if he was about to collapse and die at any moment.

The ominous and omen of death about Harry Potter has been spread throughout the school, and of course Draco Malfoy's credit is indispensable for this.

Almost everyone he met would perform a scene where Harry was chased by a big black dog and then left unfortunately.

Professor Ollivander on the stage was telling them about the history of goblins and alchemy, but Harry hardly listened.

"We've been inspired a lot by visiting ancient goblin artisans," Hardy says of turning his wand into a carving knife.

Just a few strokes on the soft branches of Whomping Willow. After the green light flickered, the branches became straight and hard like spears.

"This technology is called magic reform, and the way is to write magic lines," Hardy said. "It can quickly change the properties of substances, which is better than the effect of magic spells."

But the reaction in the classroom was mediocre.

"Do you have any questions?" Hardy wiped away the magic pattern on the branch, turned it back to its original state, looked at everyone and said, "It's not a big deal, it's just that my lecture didn't win the applause of the students for the first time."

Everyone turned to look at Harry again, but no one said a word.Then Hermione raised her hand.

"Professor, we just had the first divination class in the morning and interpreted the tea leaves, and the result—"

"Ah, I see," Hardy said suddenly, "no more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will die this year?"

Everyone looked at Hardy in surprise.

"Me," said Harry at last.

"I see," Hardy said, looking at Harry with a smile, "then you should know, Mr. Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of a student every year since she came to this school. Until now So far, none of them have died."

"She likes to welcome a new class by seeing omens of death. If I hadn't never spoken ill of my colleagues—"

Hardy stopped suddenly, he almost couldn't help complaining about each other in front of the little wizards.

He continued: "As you may know, she also gave me a death omen last year."

The atmosphere in the classroom finally became relaxed.

Hardy went on in a matter-of-fact tone: "It seems to me, Potter, that you are in very good health, so please forgive me if I do not excuse you from today's homework. I assure you, in case If you're really dead, you don't need to hand in your homework."

Hermione laughed.

Harry felt a little lighter, too.

Leaving the dim red light and the drowsy aroma in Professor Trelawney's classroom, it is hard to be intimidated by a pile of tea leaves.

After the alchemy class, the three little ones followed the crowd and went to the auditorium for dinner noisily.

And Hardy packed his things and went to Dumbledore's office.

Professor McGonagall and Snape had just come from their respective classes.

Dumbledore conjured up some armchairs for everyone, "The Ministry of Magic is asking us for advice on how to deal with Argus."

Professor McGonagall glanced at Hardy and Snape, "Strictly speaking, he didn't violate any regulations of the Ministry of Magic."

"Nor has anything been done for the illegal organization of the Illuminati to harm wizards who have gone missing."

"But," Snape's eyes were as dark as the bottom of a lake, "Filch has been stealing the school's magic manuscripts just to give to those illegal wizards."

The corner of his mouth ticked, "I guess, he thinks he is great? Has the ability to teach those illegal wizards? Just like us?"

"You should understand!" Professor McGonagall pursed his lips, "We should be more considerate..."

"I recommend firing Filch!" Snape said without hesitation. "Hogwarts doesn't need a thief."

"Professor Snape!" Professor McGonagall was trembling with anger, "This is too cruel to Filch, kick him out of school? Where else can he go?"

"It's not something we should consider." Snape said coldly. "Ah, yes, who told him not to be Harry Potter! We can't give too many tolerances and exceptions."

Raising his hand to stop the quarrel between Professor McGonagall and Snape, Dumbledore looked at Hardy through the half-moon glasses, "What's your suggestion?"

"Three points of view." Hardy thought for a while, and then slowly said, "From the perspective of the Ministry of Magic, Filch did not have much fault in the whole incident."

"Kidnapping wizards, and serving the Illuminati, neither of which he was involved in, the Ministry of Magic has no reason to arrest him."

"From the perspective of our school, Filch did continue to steal, but it did not cause serious consequences. Although there are punishments, they should not be severely punished."

Professor McGonagall and Snape were silent, while Dumbledore nodded.

"Actually, the most important point is," Hardy sighed, "The few people who were important to Filch have all died. We can hardly imagine the extent of the blow he suffered."

He said, "I heard that his mental state is not stable? Has he been treated at St. Mungo's Magic Injury Hospital?"

"Yeah," Dumbledore said worriedly, "I'm not going to fire him."

Snape snorted coldly, and Professor McGonagall's expression eased a lot.

"Very comprehensive suggestion," Dumbledore picked up the quill in hand, "I will write back to the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible, so that Filch can recover as soon as possible."

night.

Harry was lying on the table by the fireplace, finishing the homework that Hardy had left during the day.

Hermione was sitting in an armchair, studying her new timetable.

"Oh, that's great, we are going to start some new classes in the third grade." She said happily.

"Hermione," said Ron, looking over her shoulder, frowning, "your timetable is a mess. Look - you have like ten classes a day. How much time there is."

"I'll find a way. I've discussed it with Professor McGonagall."

"But look," said Ron, laughing, "see this morning's class? Nine o'clock, Divination. Next, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And—"

Ron leaned closer to the timetable, as if he couldn't believe his eyes, "Look—below, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I know you're good, Hermione, but no one can be that good. How do you Maybe in three classrooms at the same time?"

"You even have to find time to complete your Auror career experience!"

Harry looked up, too, looking at Hermione in bewilderment.

"Don't be silly," said Hermione curtly. "Of course I won't be in three classrooms at once. I'll take care of that."

"then you--"

"Pass me the Auror interview transcript," said Hermione.

"But--"

"Come on, Ron, even if my timetable is a bit full, what's your business?" said Hermione impatiently. "I told you I've discussed it with Professor McGonagall."

Just then George and Fred crawled through the hole into the common room.

"Hey, I said, I really don't know what happened to Mrs. Pince recently," they looked very embarrassed, as if ink had been splashed all over their bodies.

"George, Fred, what's the matter with you?" Harry asked, hastily putting away the clean homework in his hand.

Ron opened his mouth in surprise and scratched his hair, "I hope you're not studying something again, I'll tell mom!"

"That's not it!" The twins said in unison, "We went to the library, and then Mrs. Pince said that it's time to close the library."

"She bewitched our books, satchels, ink, everything, and made them chase after us." The twins shrugged at the same time.

(End of this chapter)