[hp] stay out of it

"Vincent, you're awake!" Professor Flitwick was taken aback first, then smiled and let me into his office, jokingly said, "I must have slept comfortably this time." He waved The magic wand, the light source in the room changed from the candlestick in his hand to the strangely shaped decorations in every corner, the warm light from the mouth of the Ravenclaw eagle, the center of the fruit sculpture and the flowing and stretching patterns of the wallpaper radiate out.

"I don't think I need to close my eyes any more before the new year." I stretched my head to look at the papers submitted by my classmates on Professor Flitwick's desk, and found that most of them were discussing the Flying Curse. After the Flying Curse passed the first round of the competition, Professor Flitwick used him as an example and told in advance the spell that he would not learn until at least a year later.

"Sorry to disturb you late at night, Professor," I began, "but I thought..."

"Want to keep up with the latest developments? Oh, smart people always understand the importance of keeping up with the times. For Christmas's sake, I won't deduct points from my college because you woke up the sleeping dean in the middle of the night." Already." Professor Flitwick smiled, fiddled around behind the table, and brought out a bronze-colored slim waist pot. He poured two glasses of lemon juice: "This one is always refreshing...do you add sugar?"

I hesitated, nodded, and put two cubes of sugar into my cup by myself.

"Hmm... Happy Christmas Eve!" Professor Flitwick glanced at the complicated hourglass combination timer standing by the wall, and raised his glass to me.

I also glanced back at the curved glass of the clock function, and after a few seconds of calculation, I found that it was less than half an hour after twelve o'clock: "Is it the early morning of Christmas Eve?"

"Yeah, you just caught up. If Madam Pomfrey hadn't said that you hadn't been conscious at all, I really wonder if you've finally woken up." Professor Flitwick said with a smile, immersed in the In a festive atmosphere of happiness and joy.

But I have to mention some unpleasant things at this time, such as: "Professor, I came here in a hurry because-you know, I was also in Professor McGonagall's office. I heard Mr. Crouch say that Voldemort he Back? Resurrected? Is it true? What did the headmaster say?"

Unexpectedly, Professor Flitwick was very pleased when I mentioned the most unpopular guy in Britain. He blinked and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet from the drawer: "Oh, Speaking of what happened after you lost consciousness - if nothing else, I think you'd love to see that."

I took the paper, and the first thing I saw was the headline photo of Harry waving and smiling at me—and Sirius.

"What!" I quickly looked at the headline, and found that the report was not about Sirius being captured back to Azkaban and Harry being an accomplice, as I had guessed, but a heroic front. report:

<Stopping the Death Eater's plot at Hogwarts, Blake rehabilitated after 13 years>

At the same time, there is another piece of news below: <The shocking truth was revealed, both Crouch and his son were imprisoned>.Attached is a photo of Little Crouch staring coldly at the camera, and Mr. Crouch with a deadpan expression. The two were detained and left the scope of the camera under the guard of dementors.

I didn't turn the corner for a while, slapped the newspaper on my lap, and looked up at Professor Flitwick: "Is today really Christmas Eve, not April Fool's Day or something?"

"What is April Fool's Day? A new saying made up by Muggles?" Professor Flitwick took a sip of lemon juice.

"Almost." I muttered, lowered my head and continued to read the newspaper, which was issued on the second of this month.Looking at it, I couldn't help reading: "...While watching the Tournament at Hogwarts, Black, who has always been quick-witted, noticed the weirdness of the so-called Professor Moody who taught at the school. Out of self-interest Considering the safety of his godson Harry Potter and his biological son Vincent (who is also a fourth-year Hogwarts student like Harry), he resolutely approached Moody, who was behaving strangely, at the risk of being discovered..."

I glanced at the author's name and found that such a report that mobilized readers' emotions within the normal range was not written by Sketa—she was in charge of the news about Crouch and his son.

"...Blake's excellence in school has always been remembered by the professors, so they made the right decision: believe what Black said, instead of throwing him into Azkaban immediately. After a thrilling confrontation ( For details, see the 4th edition, "The shocking secret was revealed, Crouch and his son were both imprisoned", Rita Skeeter), little Crouch was arrested by the Ministry of Magic, and testified for Black, proving that Black was accused of the case In fact, it was Peter Pettigrew, a proven veteran Death Eater who is generally considered the victim of the crime. Peter cleverly misled witnesses and made himself the hero of the brave and accountable. Later, he was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class (this posthumous title is being urgently withdrawn through an appeal) (see Supplement A <Black Injustice Case> for details)..."

"Injustice?" I looked up to Professor Flitwick for confirmation. "That case is called an injustice now? That means—"

Professor Flitwick looked at me with relief, and nodded with a smile: "Sirius can walk outside openly and aboveboard from December [-]nd—of course, Muggles can't go to the neighborhood yet. Cancel the Muggle wanted The procedure is relatively cumbersome, at least it will not be done before Christmas."

I flipped back to the cover to see Sirius happily waving at the camera with his arms around Harry, a smile so intense it could almost set the paper ablaze.

Thirteen years of being misunderstood by everyone in the world have finally passed.He'd spent more time in prison for the Potters than with them.

Such days are finally over.

I took a sip of the lemonade, and the sugar cubes in it all melted by now, and now it tastes sweet as hell.

Although I don't know why the situation is getting out of control and farther and farther away from the established track, but I am still alive and things are developing in a good direction, and that is enough.

Of course, I have to adjust my formula when I go back, and I can't forget this.

The deeper I dug into the world, the more difficult it was for me to understand order.

"By the way, you were mentioned in the supplement, and it was well written. But I suggest you not to flip through the fourth edition, which is full of Skeeter's articles-a woman whose mind is only stuffed with feathers and straw. Reporter." Professor Flitwick interrupted my train of thought.

I pulled out the supplement subconsciously, and saw a close-up photo of the Hogwarts landscape, and then I saw myself in the canopy of the tree closest to the camera: I was leaning on the trunk, holding a leaf in my mouth, in a daze.The caption below the photo is: Hogwarts, and Vincent, who was plagued by injustice a year ago (Source: Enthusiasts). "Enthusiasts?" I twitched the corners of my mouth, "What about my portrait rights?"

Professor Flitwick's laughter didn't stop during this period: "Hogwarts allows taking pictures in a small area, you can only be regarded as accidentally being photographed-haha, the expression is good, I have been looking forward to seeing you What's it going to be like here?"

I closed the newspaper and squeezed the space between my eyebrows. Since things have gone so far, my appearance in a pile of explosive news can only be regarded as a drop in the bucket.

I laughed dryly: "Professor, I didn't see the report about Voldemort. Is Mr. Crouch talking nonsense?"

"Oh, don't you want to let go of that topic? Today is Christmas Eve, and there is no need to discuss dark things on Christmas Eve." Professor Flitwick clicked his tongue, then looked at the set of hourglasses, and said to himself : "It's almost 10 minutes, and Sirius' movements are too slow."

He looked back at me, and then, not forgetting to put a bug-proof spell on the room, even in the middle of the night, he said, "You shouldn't have just woken up listening to these horrible things--but since you insisted on . . . Crouch said a lot under the influence of Veritaserum, including the return of You-Know-Who, why he was assigned to Hogwarts, and what he did to the Goblet of Fire.

"The mysterious man did find a way to come back. Dumbledore immediately took people to Crouch's house where he was hiding, but he should have left in a hurry after Mr. Crouch's Imperius Curse was broken by you. It's a pity Unfortunately, we got nothing."

I listened quietly, Professor Flitwick took a sip of water, and continued: "But the newspaper didn't say anything. On the one hand, based on what Little Crouch said, the mysterious man is still very weak, far away He can't make waves, and he is in a deep employment crisis—if we release this news, it will be tantamount to helping the mysterious person spread the news and contact his loyal subordinates, such as little Crouch. Dead Apostles.

"And think about it, besides making the public uneasy, can spreading the news of the mysterious man's resurrection have any other effect? ​​So Dumbledore planned to send someone to find the trace of the mysterious man in private—with reliable People who are loyal to our side... However, as for how to do it, how to plan is our business."

"If you want to know other things, you can ask Sirius, anyway, I won't tell you more. It's really time to go to bed now, after all your doubts have been resolved." Professor Flitwick He yawned, indicating that the news leaked so far.It can be roughly guessed from the intentional deviation of his words that he was worried that I would ask about Voldemort's evil plans in school (using Harry's blood as a raw material for resurrection)-and these things are really not suitable for a small The child listens.

I figured out roughly what happened after I fainted, and there was no reason to linger.

It's just that the news of Voldemort's resurrection was known in advance and it didn't cause any earth-shaking changes-maybe this is the reason why I haven't died yet?I can't get an answer to this question for a while.

"Oh, by the way," said Professor Flitwick suddenly, "with all due respect... did you date any girl at the Christmas party?"

"Of course not. What's the matter?"

"That's just right—well, I suggest you go home for Christmas. For Merlin's sake, Sirius hasn't had a decent Christmas in a long time!" said Professor Flitwick, waving his wand. , the lights in the office gradually dimmed according to the level, "Tonight, you should fix it first, and if you leave tomorrow morning, you can still celebrate Christmas Eve at night."

I froze for a moment before realizing that by "home" he meant Twelve Grimmauld Place, Sirius' house.

——After wandering around in this magical world for more than three years, is there a place that can be called "home" suddenly on this Christmas Eve?

Out of some kind of psychology that I can't even fathom, I didn't refuse immediately, but lowered my eyes, picked up the sweet lemon juice, and drank it all in one gulp.

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Insomnia==