Blessing Potion [Comprehensive British and American]

After drying the letter, the new roommate John offered to lend him his own owl, Fluffy, and kindly told him that his family would receive it before 11 o'clock tonight.

The boy packed his schoolbag, put some water in Ping An's flat tank, lay on the bed, pulled the quilt that smelled of sunshine to the tip of his nose, and closed his eyes.

For a while, the magnificent auditorium floated in his mind; for a while, the headmaster like Santa Claus appeared;

Benny was right, Hogwarts was really good.

"Good night, John."

"Good night, Cyril."

A good night's sleep.

Early the next morning, the boys who had packed up gathered in the Hogwarts auditorium for breakfast under the leadership of their prefects.Before going out, the prefect sent each of the new students a schedule - not including Cyril.

"Professor Snape said he gave you your share last night."

When it was sent to Cyril, the prefect spoke clearly and with exaggerated body movements.I don't know what Professor Snape told him. After the prefect finished speaking, he specifically confirmed it with him twice to see if he understood everything.

"Oh, that's right, thank you."

"You're welcome." The prefect smiled relaxedly, and continued to hand out the schedule to the students who arrived later.

"Look! Our oriental boy became famous in the whole school in less than one night." Gene appeared behind him at some point, put the book in his hand on the side of the chair, and brought a glass of milk from the middle of the table.

"Good morning, Gene."

"Good morning, Senior Flint." Cyril and John greeted each other.

"Good morning, my oriental boy, and this junior."

"How are you sleeping? Cyril." Wendy, with fluffy golden curly hair, was almost sitting across from Gene.

"pretty good, how about you?"

"As usual, have you released the schedule?"

"Yes." Cyril took out his class schedule from the pocket of his robe and handed it to the senior sister. He liked these two senior students very much. Can't stop bickering.

"Oh! Wendy, can't you tie your hair up? It looks like a blond lion!" Gene picked up the jam, not forgetting to tease his old friend on the first day of school.

"Fool Gene, my hair is none of your business, and please don't describe me as a lion, and Gryffindor and I will want to cry. Thank you." Wendy counterattacked sharply, and took away Gene just wiped it. The slice of bread with jam took a hard bite.

Genn stared at the empty hand for a second, then shrugged with a wry smile, and resignedly picked up another tablet and started dabbing.Looking up at the oriental boy with his eyes open like a doll, he looked at him for a moment, and asked in a good temper:

"How about giving you one too?"

Cyril smiled and shook his head. Although he couldn't fully understand, he was also amused by the funny expressions of the two.

"Honey, your first class is Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class. I suggest you go to the classroom early and keep quiet at all times." Wendy turned her head and returned the class schedule to Cyril, swallowing the bread in her mouth as a kind reminder .

"Oh well."

"Don't try to touch any creatures in the classroom, it's best to read the book in advance." Gene shrugged with a smirk, and winked at Wendy who was about to add, Wendy gave him a grin, But did not speak again.

"Is this the one you're talking about? I can't understand most of it." Cyril was a little frustrated.

"Yes. But...hey, what is this?" Gene quickly picked up the Oxford dictionary that Cyril brought out of his schoolbag.

"Dictionary." Cyril said concisely.

"Can I see it?"

"Please."

"My God, it's so heavy. These square-like characters are in Chinese? So the English words are explained in Chinese?"

"Yes."

"Here, boy. Take it, good luck." Gene returned the dead dictionary to his junior with a sympathetic expression, and thoughtfully added a German sausage to his plate.

The number of people in the auditorium gradually increased, and at this time a large group of owls flew in through the skylight.Letters and packages of various sizes are tied to the feet of owls of various colors.

The industrious messengers found their owners and delivered the letters to them.

Among the flocks of owls, John's gray owl fur was particularly conspicuous. It passed through other partners like a beautiful landscape, and flew straight to the heads of John and Cyril with its head held high.

The culprit was a touch of bright green that was hard to ignore.

Cyril looked at the small green scarf around the owl's neck and was speechless for a moment.

That little scarf is so familiar, because the old bag at home has exactly the same one-grandmother's handwriting.

Maomao stopped firmly at the dining table, and stretched out his bound right foot to John reservedly, as if wearing a scarf and becoming a status-only owl, no longer suitable for coquettishly jumping around to its master.

John took off the package and looked at his pet's new outfit with some surprise.

"It must be my grandma, if you don't like it..." Cyril was a little embarrassed and wanted to untie it.Mao Mao unexpectedly did not cooperate, turned his head to one side, and silently refused.

"No no...it's pretty good, Mao Mao likes it very much. At least it's green...isn't it?"

Cyril thought of Lao Bao's whole set of red woolen hat, scarf and socks, swallowed silently, and silently agreed in his heart.

John would blow up if he saw fur like a red scarf.

Every Slytherin ends up not liking Gryffindor, and vice versa.

John handed the package letter belonging to Cyril to his roommate, and looked at his own.Cyril couldn't wait to open his own letter.

The letter is not long, and it can be seen that it was written by my mother.

The whole family congratulated him on his successful assignment to Slytherin, and Lin Jiu also specifically mentioned, "Since your father knew you had entered Slytherin, he hummed songs all night, wrote letters to your grandparents, and talked in his sleep at night. "

Benny must have wished he had been in Slytherin, though he never mentioned it.Obviously, the father who is extra careful in a certain line does not want to impose his will on his son.

The corner of Cyril's mouth hooked slightly, and his eyes moved down.

"Professor Snape is a good friend of your father. He discussed with us a while ago to apply for the opening of the international delivery fireplace when we return to China, but it will take a while to approve the official procedures. So you can rest assured to hand the letter to him." , but remember to be polite.

We are very grateful to hear that he is willing to spend extra time tutoring you, and hope you will listen to him well at school.

PS The pencil case you put in the box was taken away by your father. He said that everyone in Hogwarts uses quills, and no one uses silly bullet pencils and ballpoint pens. I hope you can adapt.And by the way, I will send you a few more new quill pens to practice calligraphy.

PPS Your grandma made a box of salty treats, and you took them to your professor Snape during your tutoring evening, and asked him to try them. "

Opening the package, it was no surprise that there was a quill set and a small exquisite wooden box. Cyril put the two things together with the letter into the bag and continued to eat breakfast.

When Cyril and John appeared in the transformation classroom, only a small half of the class came.

The two sat down in the second row on the left. John took out the ink and quill, and Cyril also put his new quill and parchment on the table. Finally, after a fierce ideological struggle, he held back the dictionary Take it out and put it next to the quill.

It was obvious that Professor McGonagall hadn't come yet, and students in twos and threes among the teachers were whispering and whispering.

The most discussed one was the cat sitting on the podium - a tabby cat with obvious eye lines, which is impressive.But if there is anything special about this cat, it must be its upright, motionless sitting posture.

John whispered to Cyril's ear:

"Look at that cat!"

Cyril remembered Gene's previous warning and replied in a low voice:

"Don't look, it's coming."

"What are you afraid of? It's just a cat. It's probably Professor McGonagall's pet."

"Cats are smart. Don't mess with them. They'll spill your ink, take your shoes, and pee in your orange juice."

(It's hard for a mixed-race boy to express such a large series of sentences in English, although the content made my friends a little dumbfounded).

When saying these words, Cyril's mind was full of the old orange cat at home.

The raccoon cat, which had turned its head slightly to them, silently turned its head away again, and stubbornly showed them only the furry back of its head before ringing the class bell.