Blessing Potion [Comprehensive British and American]

"Well, he's...serious." Genn seemed to be recalling something that made his tooth hurt, and replied slowly.

Hearing the caution and annoyance in the senior's tone, Cyril couldn't help but secretly raised his head to glance at the black-haired and black-eyed wizard on the teacher's bench.

This time the wizard didn't stare at him anymore, he was listening to an old professor beside him, his expression looked a little unpredictable.

I don't know if it's because of the black hair and black eyes, but Cyril couldn't help feeling close to him, and couldn't help but want to take a closer look at this too young professor and the dean of his own college.

"He looks so young." Cyril couldn't help but sighed softly again.

"He is the youngest professor and the youngest dean in the history of Hogwarts." Wendy turned her head gently, emphasizing the two "minimus" deliberately.

"Excuse me, what class does he... teach?" Cyril found that his curiosity was growing, and he was about to overcome his language barrier.I told myself in my heart that there is nothing wrong with paying attention to the dean of my college.

"Potions. Oh, he's the youngest potions master in modern times - if you understand. You don't have to use honorifics with me, my dear."

Cyril understood Potions, and probably knew that Wendy seemed to praise her dean again.Although her expression is also very tangled.

Cyril found that people around him always had such complicated expressions when they mentioned Professor Snape, love and hate, admiration and toothache coexisted.

A small voice popped up in my heart: Why does everyone mention the dean with black hair and black eyes with the expression of "that heartbroken man"? ? ?

Heartbreaker...

puff!

The boy himself was amused by himself, small dimples appeared on his cheeks, looking soft and cute.Gained the loving gaze of the surrounding senior sisters—although no one knew it at the time.

The sorting ceremony was drawing to a close, and the last short girl was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Santa's version of Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, rose to his feet.He looked at the students with a smile on his face, and stretched out his arms to them. Nothing seemed to make him happier than seeing the students gathered together.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts for the start of the new school year! Before the banquet begins, I would like to say a few words. That is: Idiot! Cry! Scum! Screw!"

"thank you all!"

He sat down again.Everyone applauds and cheers.Cyril changed from a decent smile to a daze.

He looked around at the classmates who laughed it off, wondering if he should ask the principal what the last sentence was.

And what's even more sad: he caught the word "stupid" out of all the words.

But two seconds later, he couldn't care less about entanglement, because at the moment when Dumbledore finished speaking, the empty long table was suddenly filled with food, such as roast chicken, lamb chops, sausages, stewed chicken, etc. that appeared out of thin air. Beef, bread, potatoes, soup, and juices crowded the gleaming table, and he was hungry in no time.

Cyril belatedly thought of his friend Bowen who he had neglected since the division of the college.

Looking up, Bowen was sitting on the side of the Hufflepuff long table facing him. He seemed to like his new house very much, chatting with the students around him, and handing each other the dishes in front of him.

The chubby boy raised his head as if feeling something, and smiled shyly and nervously when he met Cyril for a moment. Cyril raised the goblet in front of him to greet him, and the round-faced boy's smile widened instantly. They also raised their wine glasses, and the two friends toasted at the first dinner of the new semester to congratulate each other on being assigned to their favorite colleges.

The glass was not the orange juice that Cyril thought it was, and it tasted weird and a little sour.Apparently Bowen was also startled by the ghostly taste in his mouth, and the two made faces at each other.

Swallowing the unknown liquid in his mouth forcefully, a glass of clear water appeared in front of Cyril.

"Oh, thanks."

"You're welcome, this is pumpkin juice, a Hogwarts tradition. Do you know about pumpkins?" The brown-haired, skinny boy with freckles sitting across from him replied shyly.

"I know the word pumpkin, it's really... special." Cyril couldn't find a suitable adjective.

"It's more strange. I'm John White, and I'm also a freshman. Just call me John." John shrugged casually.

"Hi! John. Call me Cyril."

"Little gentlemen, would you like some lamb chops? It tastes really good." Gene floated a large plate of lamb chops in front of Cyril with his magic wand.

"Oh, thank you, that's very kind of you."

"You're welcome."

The dinner ended in a pleasant atmosphere. The headmaster knocked on the goblet and made a concluding speech, and asked the colleges to take their students back to rest.

At this moment, two senior students, a man and a woman with badges pinned to their chests in front of the desk, stood up and loudly told the freshmen present to follow them.

Cyril and John followed behind the team obediently. In fact, there are only 6 Slytherin freshmen this year.

The badges on the chests of the two senior students looked closely and it was the letter "P". John told Cyril in a low voice that they were prefects and they were both fifth grade students.

The prefect led several freshmen through the auditorium, and on the way Cyril met Bowen from the Hufflepuff team, and the two exchanged a brief goodnight.

Cyril found that most of the Slater students around him were friendly and polite to him, but they seemed to show a lack of interest and a little arrogance towards the students from other colleges, and even very few were still fighting each other.Thinking of Bowen performing on the Hogwarts Express with his chin raised and nostrils watching him, Cyril felt that the prejudice was not entirely groundless.

He saw with his own eyes that his prefect just took the first step to the door of the auditorium, and stopped a group of people from Gryffindor College on the far left who were about to go out.Neither of them was going to give in, refusing to let the other party's team pass first.

Until Professor McGonagall passed by and separated the two juveniles who were rubbing shoulders, the "traffic jam" was relieved.

After going out, the two rivals turned one to the left and the other to the right, each raising their heads proudly.Cyril looked at the Gryffindor student on the left who was wearing a gold and red tie, and he couldn't help but want to laugh when he thought of his father's pale face when grandpa said red was festive.

The Slytherin common room is underground at the end of the corridor on the right.Unlike the bright and warm Hogwarts auditorium, the further you go down, the darker and damper it gets. Cyril, who likes sunshine, can't help but worry about his accommodation conditions.

I don't know if living in such a dark place will be haunted, Cyril's thinking diverged.

"Freshman?" A soft voice rang in Cyril's ear, and the coolness from the soles of his feet made his stomach tighten for a while.

Kaba Kaba turned his head, and saw a gloomy ghost floating beside him.The chill is not an illusion, the ghost really has its own cooling system.

"Uh...uh, yes, hello."

"Aren't you British?" The ghost turned his head slowly, his eyes were dull, his face was haggard, and his robe was covered with silvery blood spots.

"My mother is Chinese, and my father is British." Cyril answered, holding back the cold sweat on his back, and felt that the one beside him was probably the scariest ghost in Hogwarts, bar none.

"You have to improve your English skills." Phantom's tone was light, but Cyril heard the disgust...

"Huh? Oh, yes...you're right." Cyril didn't know whether it was cold or nervous, and he stuttered even more, answering aggrievedly.