A little badger from Hogwarts

It was approaching noon, and the little wizards who had finished the two classes in the morning returned to the auditorium for lunch.

Hart came down from upstairs and met Cedric and others at the entrance of the auditorium.

They were downcast and listless, as if they had suffered a serious blow.

Hart shook his head and walked up to them, "What's wrong with you, are you all so lethargic?"

"Don't mention it." Cedric waved his hand, with a look of regret on his face: "Professor Trelawney took us to play with tea leaves and palmistry as soon as the class started, and then told several people that they would die."

"Are you one of them?" Hart laughed out loud, a little gloating.

"Can you have some sympathy? We are all predicted to die and yet we are still here laughing." Cedric felt annoyed.

"Okay, don't worry so much." Hart comforted: "I have asked about it a long time ago. Professor Trelawney will say in the divination class every year that the little wizard will die, but so far, no one has shown up. Unexpected."

"Doesn't that mean Professor Trelawney is just an ordinary magician?" Cedric and the others suddenly became energetic.

"You can't say that." Hart touched his chin and led them into the auditorium.

"The ancient prophets had powerful magic that could defeat fate. Our founder Hufflepuff was such a prophet. It is said that the Sorting Hat inherited Hufflepuff's prophetic ability to see where each new student should go. That academy.”

"Oh~" the little badgers exclaimed, they really didn't know this.

"Then what does this have to do with Professor Trelawney?"

Hart continued to explain: "The fortune tellers in the world who can truly make predictions are all descendants of an ancient prophet. But as the bloodline has been diluted from generation to generation, they are no longer able to peek into fate as freely as their ancestors. And only at certain times can true prophecies be made.”

"Some scholars believe that today's prophets are all 'slaves of fate' in a sense. Not only are they unable to make predictions independently, but they are also punished by fate because of their ancestors' peek at fate. Most of the time they are in a state of insecurity. A confused state, becoming crazy.”

"So we don't have to worry anymore." the little badgers asked nervously.

Hart nodded, yes: "According to recent records, when a prophet actually predicts, he will become completely different from usual, as if he is another person."

Now the little badgers were completely relieved.

But there is still a question before them: "Although these predictions are completely untrue, how will we die if we can't listen to a class every week?"

"Then you can only blame yourselves. You didn't do any homework before choosing the course. Now you are dumbfounded! Just bear with it."

It is impossible to withdraw from a class, there is no such precedent in Hogwarts.

Hart is not going to help them find a way to let them remember and stop being so arbitrary in the future.

As soon as Cedric and the others were solved, the first-year wizard also came over with a grimace.

Without them having to say anything, Hart knew what was going on, "What did Snape scold you for in class?"

"Is the Potions professor sick? We did exactly what he said, and yet he still finds fault with us."

The little badgers who had been scolded for a whole class vented their dissatisfaction. Even the most orderly Hermione did not stop her when she heard the unkind names given to Snape by her classmates.

"Forget it, that guy is a rotten person. Except for his excellent potion skills, there is nothing about him that meets the teacher's standards."

Hart's comments scared the first-year wizards around him. After all, Snape is also a professor, okay?

"There is nothing wrong with him. He is a professor, not a king." Hart replied with a normal expression: "He taught us knowledge, and we should respect him, but this does not mean that we are inferior to him. His verbal violence should be tolerated."

"You have no respect for your superiors. Only mudbloods like you would do such unruly things."

Listening to Hart's words, the new little badgers opened a new door, while the neighboring Slytherin couldn't help it.

You dared to resist the professor in school, but I don’t even dare to think about what you will do in society.

"If you don't like it, then go out and fight with me." Hart changed his kindness to the little badgers and challenged Slytherin.

How could a golden-haired Draco be so angry? He was a serious old pureblood, and he definitely couldn't tolerate these mudbloods.

So after a while, Draco was about to stand up, but as soon as his butt left the chair, he was pushed down by Marcus Flint.

"Calm down, this guy was able to defeat five of us by himself last year."

Little Malfoy didn't show off, because none of the Slytherin wizards stood up.

Watching the Slytherins shut their mouths, Hart frowned and said to Cedric: "We will ask Professor Sprout to change seats this afternoon, otherwise we will have to listen to dogs barking in our ears every meal. If it goes on and on, who can stand it?"

"Wu Lie, don't go too far!" Flint stood up and pointed at Hart.

Hart looked at this guy sideways and said, "I didn't say anything about you. You seem to be a little self-aware that you are so eager to get it right!"

"Not bad, not bad, I'm very pleased."

Flint's face turned from white to red, and then from red to blue, but the professors were watching, and he couldn't do anything.

"I'm not done with you. Sooner or later I want you to look good."

"This is the twenty-third time you have said this. I am still waiting for the good looks you gave me the first twenty-two times!" Hart pressed his ears with his little thumb.

Completely defeated, Flint no longer had the shame to stay in the auditorium, and turned around and left with a belly full of anger.

"Can't stand it? What's wrong with this? What a pampered pure-blooded young master. He can't bear this kind of excitement." Hart didn't have the slightest sympathy for Flint. These people are mudbloods, and the mudblood didn't have any when he scolded him. psychological burden.

"Is this really good? No matter what, we are still classmates!" Hermione was a little worried that the professors would punish such behavior, and also wondered why the relationship between the two colleges was so tense.

"Professors generally don't care about this kind of thing, as long as they don't get into fights." Hart said calmly: "As for the relationship between classmates, haha, just listen. Slytherin even thinks that we Muggles are not worthy of being wizards. , I personally think they are all potential opponents."

Although Hermione was smart, she was inexperienced in the world and had no idea what the meaning was hidden behind these words.

But even the superficial meaning was a little hard to accept for this little witch who was used to following the rules.

"If you really can't accept it, just avoid them."

Hart said so.

Hermione nodded, accepting the suggestion.