Hogwarts: The Cat Wizard of the Moving Castle

Mu En's unique and violent teaching method has caused an uproar in the entire castle. In the corridor auditorium, everyone had heated discussions about this.

It even affected some teachers.

"No, I don't have any advanced knowledge in dueling." Professor McGonagall gently pushed up her glasses in class with a soft expression on her face.

The children sighed, yes. Although Professor McGonagall seems to be very strict on weekdays, after all, it is said that she has been doing this for decades——

The wand was raised fiercely, and before the young wizards could react, the entire classroom rioted. The tables, chairs and benches turned into beasts of all sizes, and then surrounded Professor McGonagall, glaring at the children below.

In comparison, Professor Flitwick is completely different.

He sat cross-legged on a seat stacked with various books, his beard trembled, and he was very talkative.

"Duel, yes, duel! I have also briefly dabbled in this aspect. Professor Jones's words are not unreasonable. After learning the magic of various wonderful abilities, people will always have various ideas. "

After speaking, he found that the little wizards below were not listening to what he said at all, but just looked at him expectantly.

"Okay." Professor Flitwick could only nod helplessly, then twisted his wrist, and the curse exploded in the classroom.

They didn't even see Professor Flitwick raising his wand clearly. It was impossible to hear the short and extremely fast spell.

However, they soon understood what spell Professor Flitwick had cast.

Grinning and cheering!

The little wizards in the classroom seemed to have hands scratching their armpits and couldn't help laughing.

As for Potions, Snape was clearly unhappy with the children's mention of teachers from other classes.

Moreover, it’s a Defense Against the Dark Arts class!

"Such a simple argument is enough to make you so excited. It seems that you really don't have enough things in your mind." Snape said slowly in the dark underground classroom.

Snape was very unhappy!

His teaching philosophy is exactly the same as that of Mu En.

It is necessary to use the magic spells learned in actual combat and give them room to practice.

Of course, Snape thought it could be more violent.

But other than that, he couldn't do better than Mu En.

However, he would not say such words. He still looked lifeless, shrouding the potions classroom like a haze.

"Professor, can you show me?"

"Show? I remember I said, don't wave your wand stupidly in the Potions classroom!" Snape looked at him.

"It seems you didn't remember what I said, five points from Gryffindor!"

"But Professor Jones said we were the ones waving the wand stupidly, not you!"

The whole classroom fell silent.

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched, he raised his hand and smoothed the loose sleeves of his robe.

"In that case..."

With the help of the professors, these little wizards also understood Mu En's words more deeply.

Every wizard is an individual with great power, and can easily cause death!

Of course, not all teachers can respond comfortably to the inquiries of these little wizards.

Professor Trelawney in the Divination class vaguely said that she also had considerable magical powers, but when she wanted to change the topic back to the class content, she found that the children were all looking at her eagerly.

Faced with such gazes, she could only try her best to talk about the teacups in the children's hands.

But to no avail.

Finally, she grabbed the child who had asked the question at the beginning and shouted something about a mortal enemy, misfortune, and ominous words...

…

On the weekend, Draco and Harry walked on the yellow mud path on the grassland with brooms in hand.

"Do you really want to use this thing to participate in the selection?" Draco looked at Harry with a puzzled face, and looked at the shooting star in Harry's hand from time to time.

It's exactly like a household broom.

And the sweepers in his house look better than this.

"Our second grade can only select seekers, right." Harry changed the subject.

Draco nodded: "Yes, that guy Flint just needs a seeker now. There were other juniors coming, but they all backed down after seeing my broom!"

As for the other batsmen and chasers, they are either old players from the past or stuffed for him. "

"Stuff something?" Harry looked confused.

"Just..." Draco said softly, "bribe him."

After he finished speaking, he raised his head and looked at Harry with a puzzled expression: "You don't even know this?"

"No, I just...is this necessary?" Harry shook his head.

"It's a tradition of Slytherin." Draco waved his hand nonchalantly: "But he doesn't dare to go too far. At least he recruits people who can play ball."

He was embarrassed to say that his father had thought of directly paying some Galleons to the team and letting him join the team before school started.

To be precise...not some!

A lot of galleons.

"But I don't think it's necessary. It's just a ball." Draco looked at the court: "If you can do it, just do it. If you don't, just practice. If you do these little tricks, you won't be able to go fast when chasing the ball on the court. some."

"Does Professor Snape not care?"

"No matter." Draco shook his head, "Slytherin has been doing this for many years. I heard some seniors from other families say it before.

Anyway, as long as we can win, the professor will not interfere, and the professor is also very busy. "

When it comes to this, Draco may indeed know a lot more than Harry about environmental issues.

Harry suddenly thought of something and took out a bag of things and handed it to Draco.

"By the way, this is for you." Harry said.

Draco took it and saw it was a pack of tissues.

"You really did? Well, where is that friend of yours who will be disappointed if he says you don't take part in the Quidditch tryouts? Is it Granger?"

"No, she can't come. Didn't you say that the selection will be conducted secretly?"

"Okay." Draco nodded: "Tell that friend of yours that I'm sorry."

The shooting star gurgled in Harry's hand.

"He said he would let you know what kind of broomstick would be called the best."

Harry actually had no idea what Meteor wanted to express. He had become very quiet since arriving at school.

But thinking about it... Meteor must have wanted to express some provocative words.

"Okay, let him wait and see." Draco put the tissue in his robe.

With that said, they arrived at the stadium. There were only a few Slytherin girls in the towering stands. In the stadium below the stage, there were scattered boys wearing Slytherin green Quidditch robes.

The leader was very tall and burly compared to his peers, with many pimples on his face and protruding buck teeth.

To put it less appropriately...he looks like a troll.

However, no one would put such thoughts on the surface, it would be rude.

"Are you the only one?" Flint looked at Draco.

"No, there's Potter." Draco pointed to Potter next to him.

Flint glanced at him, then laughed wantonly and pointed at the shooting star.

"That's it? Did you steal a broom from your Muggle relative's house?"

"Potter, not every broom can be called a broomstick."

Harry held Meteor in his arms and looked helplessly at the group of laughing people.

"Potter, do you want to use my broom?" said a senior.

Harry recognized him, Remi Garde, the new fifth-year prefect this year.

"Garde, it has nothing to do with you." Flint swept Garde away.

"You can't make the team with a tattered broom." He looked at Harry with disdain.

As he spoke, he turned around, walked to an iron box, and opened the box.

In the box is a big red ball, as big as a basketball, with a catch on it. This is the Quaffle, used to score goals.

On both sides of him, there are two balls as big as lead balls. The reason why they are described as lead balls is because they are shiny black and have a heavy metal texture.

Moreover, they were tied up with belts, which looked very dangerous and restless.

"The assessment of the Seeker is very simple. Just circle the field three times, then snake around the goal, and finally catch the Golden Snitch!"

As he said that, Flint looked at a tiny latch in the box and took out a box. After opening, a golden delicate ball appears.

It stretched its thin wings like cicada wings, then fluttered and disappeared in mid-air.

"Won't it run away? What if I can't catch it!" Draco was a little worried about whether he could catch this little guy. It disappeared in the blink of an eye. It was so small and must be very agile.

"This is a training snitch. It won't fly out of the stadium." Marcus looked at Draco disdainfully, his eyes lingering on his broom for a while: "You know nothing about this rookie."

"Let's start with you." As he said that, he pointed at Draco, and then flew straight into the sky.

Harry glanced at Draco and said with a smile: "It seems that even using a broom that is too good will get some bad comments."

Draco looked at the few people flying into the sky and snorted disdainfully, "It's not as fast as me anyway."

After that, he flew straight into the sky.

Not long after, when everyone was ready, Draco began his flight.

He circled the field very quickly, and the speed of the light wheel was indeed not bad. But when it came to circling the goal, he couldn't help but slow down a lot due to steering problems.

When we finally looked for the golden snitch, we were delayed for a long time.

It wasn't until nearly half an hour later that he finally caught the snitch.

"The time is twenty-three minutes, not bad." Flint glanced at the time casually.

Draco glanced at Harry provocatively. I am very satisfied with this result.

"Okay, let's close the team!"

? ?

"Wait!" Harry looked at Flint and said seriously, "I'm really here for selection."

Flint turned around stiffly and looked at Harry with a dark face: "Don't you think it's a waste of time?"

Harry didn't change his expression and took a step back. This guy's tone was a bit loud.

"I understand that you don't trust me and my broom." Harry tried his best to put himself in the other person's perspective.

"But, as the captain of the team, you should at least be responsible for the selection. On the other hand, if the broom is really so important, wouldn't it be better than the broom on the field?"

Flint looked at Harry with a dark expression.

"Okay!" He nodded simply, turned around, and said in a very unhappy tone: "Put the ball out, all of them!"

Suddenly, all the balls were released.

"I'll show you how vulnerable you and your tattered broom are on a real golf course."