Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

October is coming.

The weather is getting colder.

It has been raining heavily for the past two days, making the entire castle wet. At the same time, the change in temperature has also made many young wizards sick.

Sherlock's office was already lit by a warm fire, and he was not alone in his office today.

And Harry, who was specially punished by Professor McGonagall to work here because of the use of flying cars at the beginning of the school year.

Harry actually had a pretty good time being punished here at Sherlock.

Just copy the questions assigned to him from the previous year's O.W.L.s Defence Against the Dark Arts exam on the parchment, copy enough for three years, and then leave.

Compared to Ron being punished in the cold trophy room to help Filch clean the trophy, Harry didn't even feel it was a punishment.

Sherlock's office has snacks for him to enjoy, and it's not as comfortable as in the Gryffindor common room.

After writing the last letter, Harry put down the quill in his hand, moved his sore wrist, and then handed the results of his busy morning to Sherlock for inspection.

"The writing is good. If it weren't for you being punished, maybe I would give Gryffindor a few points for it."

Sherlock briefly glanced at the titles that Harry had copied, and then gave a light compliment.

While he was talking, Harry slipped a milk toffee into his mouth from the snack tray on the table, and said vaguely.

"Then... can you go now? Called Beast, Wood and the others are still waiting for the Quidditch training."

Sherlock turned to look at the tight rain outside the window and asked.

"In such weather, do you also want to train?"

"Malfoy's father replaced the Slytherin team with the latest broom. Wood is very nervous now. Our equipment is not as good as theirs. We can only work on tactics and skills."

Harry swallowed the toffee forcefully, and his answer became clear.

Sherlock waved to indicate that he could do whatever he wanted.

"Go, I will tell Professor McGonagall that your punishment has been completed, be careful on the court, and wish you good luck today."

Harry jumped off his chair excitedly and bowed to Sherlock.

"Thank you, Professor Forrest."

Then he ran out of the office briskly, and he didn't forget to help close the door carefully before leaving.

Sherlock could only gently shake his head at the cloudy sky outside the window, sighed "it's so good to be young", and then continued to lean over to write the test materials for the senior year.

Harry braved the rain to come to the court, and Wood led the other players who were already waiting for him here.

"Hi, Professor Forrest didn't embarrass you, did he? Harry."

Seeing him come to the court, the Weasley twins swooped down from the sky on broomsticks and stopped in front of Harry.

Harry was getting on his broom and said lightly as he lifted off into the air.

"No, Professor Forrest just asked me to help him copy the title, and Ron was in trouble. He..."

Before he had finished speaking, a black iron ball suddenly rushed towards Harry with small wings and hit him directly in the abdomen!

The huge force generated by the Bludger's impact made Harry fly off the broom on the spot!

Then it fell to the ground like a kite with a broken string in the rain.

"Harry!"

When other Gryffindor players on the pitch saw this scene, they all exclaimed.

Captain Wood, pursuer Katie, Angelia and Arya all came to Harry's side on broomsticks.

Harry was staggering to his feet from the grass at this time. Mud was all over him, and he retched while clutching his stomach.

"George! Fred! Look after your Bludger! Fortunately, Harry didn't fly high enough, otherwise he would have to lie in the school hospital for at least half a month!"

Wood angrily taught the Weasley brothers.

They were the batsmen in the team, and they wanted to keep an eye on the Bludgers and not let it attack their teammates. As a result, they came down to greet Harry just now, and the Bludgers were left unattended.

George and Fred sneered and apologized to Harry. Harry, who had been relieved, waved his hand to indicate that he didn't care, and then rode on the broom again.

"Would you like to visit Madam Pomfrey, Harry?" George tried to make up for his mistakes.

Harry, who re-launched on a broomstick, shook his head with a pale face.

"It's okay, I'm fine now and can continue training."

However, in fact, his subsequent performance in training did not confirm what he said.

The Gryffindor players practiced from noon until it was almost dark in the evening. Arya and the Chasers had scored more than 30 Quaffles, but Harry still didn't see the Golden Snitch. .

This is less than an hour after the usual training, let alone catch, at least Harry has found the trace of the Snitch, but now he is still wandering in the sky, and he has not seen even the slightest gold.

Wood also saw that Harry was obviously out of shape, so he disappointedly announced the end of today's training before dark, and everyone went back to rest.

Harry put the broom back into the broom shed, clutching his stomach and walking towards the castle gloomily.

He doesn't know what happened this afternoon, anyway, after he walked out of Sherlock's office, he was in various states of absence.

Dragging his wet, muddy robes into the castle, before Harry could wipe the rain off his face, a rash figure knocked him to the ground.

"Ouch!"

Harry let out a painful cry~www.NovelMTL.com~ and then complained as he looked at the back of the man running up the stairs as if he was running away.

"Be careful, Neville! There's no Snape chasing you."

Before he could stand up, the ghost of Gryffindor wandering in the castle - Nick, who was almost headless, passed by here.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Nick."

Nick seemed to be worried about something, but he reminded Harry anyway.

"You'd better leave quickly. Filch is in the corridor not far away. He has a cold and is in a bad mood. He will definitely punish you when he sees you dirty the floor."

Harry had already seen Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, staring at the corner of the corridor with two lantern-like yellow eyes.

"That's right, I have to go now," said Harry.

He backed away from Mrs. Norris' condemning gaze, but it was too late.

Between Filch and his nasty cat, there must be some kind of mysterious connection.

He suddenly rushed from behind a tapestry to Harry's right, with a long scarf around his neck, an unusually red nose, terrifyingly bulging eyes, and the flesh on his double chin quivering.

"Dirty! I'm fed up with Potter! Dirty everywhere! A mess everywhere! You have to come with me!"

Harry looked frustrated, and he followed Filch dejectedly, muttering softly.

"Today is really unlucky."

Suddenly, a rustling voice sounded in Harry's ear.

"...starved...for a long time...kill them...eat..."

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