Blessing Potion [Comprehensive British and American]

"How was your holiday, little prince?"

"Great, look at my new broom!"

"Cool, Comet's latest model, do you like that position?"

"Hitter, how's it going, any openings this year?"

"Then I'm honored to tell you, you are so lucky boy, the two batsmen in our school have graduated, and I... Dang Dang Dang!"

The black-haired senior proudly showed off a gleaming green medal.

"Wow! Captain!!!"

"How is it? Do you want to hug my thigh?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"Write the application in the second week of school, and then come to the selection, boy!"

"Oh."

"In the new school year, let's carry out the most important sorting ceremony first."

Headmaster Santa wore a veritable red Christmas gown this time around, embellished with this little gold star and even tied his mustache with a bow of the matching colour.

Cyril, as a second-year student who has grown up for a whole class, stared blankly at the empty golden dinner plate in front of him, thinking about maybe giving Dumbledore a hand-woven wizard hat for Christmas this year .

The boy who finally learned his grandmother's knitting formula has never had the opportunity to knit a real human being.

Ping An already has 3 hats and 6 scarves, and Xiao Ao has fully demonstrated his dislike for such a fluffy burden on his head with practical actions.

Tilting the neck, shaking the hat off, and then flying with the mouth in its mouth, this series of movements can already be done smoothly.

Tsk!Really bad service!

In a trance, he suddenly felt a cold gaze sweeping from above, the boy raised his head as if feeling something, and Professor Snape looked at the distracted boy with no expression on his face.

Their eyes met, and there was a deathly silence.

The boy moved his butt uneasily, turned his face devotedly, looked at Principal Christmas who had finished speaking, and nodded as if he felt something.

Out of the corner of his eye, he aimed at Mr. Dean who was firing the death ray.

Fortunately, Snape looked away indifferently after a few seconds, and turned slightly sideways to listen to Professor Flitwick's speech beside him.

The boy sneaked his gaze back to the principal again, and sneaked a few guilty glances at the black-clad professor.

Why do you feel that your hair is greasy than when we met in the morning? ? ?He's only been away from him for 5 hours and that's wow!

He must have made a potion of steamed potion in the gap before the opening ceremony... Tsk tsk tsk.

Watching the sorting ceremony was new to the Slytherin boy in his second year.

Unwilling to be lonely and unable to stop for a quarter of an hour, the boy continued the fun with his roommate John and the seniors around him, betting on the whereabouts of each new student.

"That fat boy is stupid-looking, he must be a Hufflepuff. I saw half a Yo Yo Chocolate bar in his robe pocket!"

Gene's tone was firm.

"I think it's Gryffindor, John, what do you think?" Wendy said rationally.

"I think it's a Hufflepuff. They're right by the kitchen. If he doesn't make it, he'll tear the Sorting Hat off and flood the Headmaster's office with tears."

"..."

John's venomous tongue always has the power to poke people's lungs.

"Why not Slytherin, don't you think...he looks like the senior Gower in the seventh grade..." Cyril interjected weakly with a circle of cold eyes, and then he was spurned by everyone as a matter of course.

"Peter Durant."

Professor McGonagall called out the name of the little fat boy, and the fat boy called Peter ran up, throwing back his beloved chocolate bar during the process.

The boy turned back the same way, picked up the chocolate bar very calmly, ignored the soft laughter in the auditorium, and sat calmly on the high chair.

Wendy whispered, "I think he's a Hufflepuff now, so he didn't run away!"

There was a brief silence, and the Sorting Hat shouted: "Ravenclaw!"

The entire auditorium was silent for a while, and finally the long table of the college wearing a blue tie was the first to burst into reserved applause.

The little chubby grabbed his chocolate bar and ran to the Ravenclaw table again.

The foursome of Slytherin fell silent for a moment...

"May I ask a question?" Cyril weakly broke the silence again.

"Please?" Gene said simply.

"Which academy did you think I would go to last year?"

When the question was raised, the expressions of Gene and Wendy were instantly indescribable.

"Do you think I'm going into Hufflepuff too...?" The boy had a pitiful resentment on his face.

The fourth-grade Fermat, who hadn't been involved in the topic, burst out laughing.

Cyril turned to look at Fermat in a dazed manner, asking for confirmation: "So it's true?"

Gene coughed dryly and dodged his eyes: "It's not Hufflepuff."

Wendy looked up at the sky, and suddenly felt that the night space on the roof of the auditorium was extremely beautiful today.

Fermat laughed and said:

"At that time, Gene made a bet with Wendy, saying that the foreign boy with an excited and lively face must be a Gryffindor!"

Cyril looked at her pro-senior accusingly.

"It's not just me, everyone around me has acquiesced!" the pro-senior tried hard to win respect.

"Oh."

"Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!" - None of the love roommate John.

"..." - awkward older Slytherin students.

"Listen, little prince. How about I let you practice with the Quidditch team this Wednesday afternoon?" Gene quickly found the point, and put his arms around the boy's shoulders flatteringly.

"Just one night?"

"And Sunday morning..."

"Deal." The boy turned from cloudy to sunny, the sorting ceremony ended in chat, and the sumptuous dinner occupied the brains and stomachs of all the little wizards.

The first day of school ended in harmony, and Cyril secretly watched the professor's speech to the freshmen, still so handsome that he suffocated.Finally, I returned to the dormitory contentedly, wrote a letter to my family, took a bath, and fell asleep peacefully.

In the early morning of the next day, Cyril appeared on the long table of Slytherin early, eating breakfast slowly while watching Xiao Ao slowly crawling back and forth on the long table.

"Syril, John, why do you get up so early?"

"The first Potions class..." John ate the bacon feebly, flipping through the potions textbook.

"Oh, come on." Wendy gave the two juniors a sympathetic look, and picked up the strawberry jam on the table.

"So should the daffodil roots be put into the wormwood juice first or later?" John scratched his brown hair in distress.

"Heat the wormwood juice to 170 degrees Fahrenheit, and then add the daffodil roots piece by piece." Cyril answered reflexively with his eyes empty.

John didn't seem to expect his roommate to be able to answer, so he turned a few pages back, and finally said in frustration: "My God, how can you be verbatim with the book!"

Cyril turned a deaf ear to her roommate's collapse, and still stared blankly at peace, as if she had lost her soul.

"Hi! What's the matter with you? Cyril, wake up!!"

"Huh?...Oh, it's all right."

Cyril woke up like a dream, glanced at his roommate, lowered his head lightly and forked a piece of sausage, chewing dryly.

John and Wendy looked at each other, and decided to temporarily put aside Slytherin's distance and mystery, and enlighten this troubled little classmate.

"Devon said this morning that the Headmaster doesn't like Quidditch..."

Cyril spoke melancholy.

"Oh, come on. The dean doesn't like all noise, not even the students."

Wendy looked accustomed to it. , but without the power to appease, the boy's expression became even more desperate.

"Don't be sad, buddy. The Dean doesn't like Quidditch, but he likes trophies and house cups." John said to the point.

"Oh, buddy, you are really healing!" Cyril finally had some anger on his face.

"I just need to compete well and win prizes for our academy!"

It's just a matter of one sentence for a boy to change from a sad face to a high spirited one.

After the meal, Cyril boldly and arrogantly dragged his roommate to the potions classroom early, and sat firmly in the first row.

The expression was full of thirst for knowledge, although Professor Snape hadn't come yet.

John chatted with his roommate with a pale face:

"In such a conspicuous position, I will be questioned later, and it will be your fault at that time."

Xi Ruier's face was flushed, and he ignored his roommate's complaints, and his heart was full of his glorious ideal of winning glory for the hospital.