cycle

Seeing my mother in St. Mungo's is like a warm talisman attached to my heart. I even feel that even if it is a Boggart or a dementor that suddenly bursts out in front of me, I will be steamed from the top of my head. Scared away - even the transfiguration homework seemed so easygoing and friendly, and I even corrected a little mistake by Miss Granger.

I don't know what the Potter trio and Miss Granger were up to last week, I just found that they seemed to be very concerned about the dementors still stationed around Hogwarts, and took the opportunity to ask Hagrid hut run.I guess they're still trying to turn Buckbeak's fortunes around, and Miss Granger is in a much better mood now that she's no longer alone (of course, it may be the reason why she finally got rid of her divination class).

Everything looks so good, as if the darkness and twists and turns have finally passed, and the light has opened its arms to us and told us that it welcomes us ahead.However, life is not a novel that conforms to routines. It never follows the rules of ups and downs. It is a bag of bibi multi-flavored beans, and you will never know what the next one will be.

"My God, Harry!"

The day after I returned from a visit to St. Mungo's, I was enjoying myself spreading cheese on my bread, which I usually don't eat much, when Miss Granger untied a copy of the Daily Prophet from under the owl and skimmed through a few lines. Suddenly a voice called out sharply to the still drowsy Potter.

"What's the matter?" Potter looked blankly at the frowning Miss Granger with the bread in his mouth.

"You're in the papers—and Alice!"

It was only then that I realized that after the owl that had just delivered the letter came, the whispers in the auditorium increased. I glanced around and kept looking at us from the long tables of the four colleges. They were all holding the Daily Prophet.

"Because we went to St. Mungo's to visit? Dad is right. These reporters will catch everything. As a child, what is there to write about visiting your parents?" Porter didn't seem to take it seriously. , He even stood up and tried to take a bottle of blueberry jam in front of Miss Granger, but Miss Granger grabbed his wrist and pressed it on the table.

"You read here!"

Mr. Longbottom handed me the Daily Prophet in his hand, and I spread it out to take a look. The larger picture on the page was Mr. James Potter with bandaged hands leading me and Potter from St. Photo of Go side door into St. Mungo's article titled "The Waves Are Not Over: What Did the Auror Heroes Pay for Hunting Peter?" "

It seemed to be a fairly normal report. I scanned a few lines, and there seemed to be nothing to say except that the words were exaggerated and emphasized that my mother was dying, and criticized the Ministry of Magic for refusing to inform the public of more information.

"No, no, Alice, look below, the third edition—"

I turned to the third page, and I froze on the spot as soon as I folded the newspaper.

Two photos side by side, the first one is Porter pulling my sleeve to cross the road, it looks like he is holding my hand because of the distance; the second one is very close to us, I was handing Potter the hairpin wrapped in a handkerchief - how could we be so close without us noticing?

The title of this edition uses the kind of cute font that only appears in children's books, "Backstory: The Second Generation of Aurors with Love from Childhood"

As an important existence to expel evil for the people, Aurors have been kept away from the public view for a long time because of the mystery of their mission, and their lives after retirement often end in misery ("See Special Feature of Past Characters for details: Mad-Eye and the Trapped The Decade The Wind Stolen" by Rita Skeeter), however, we are relieved that this spark to drive out the darkness has never been extinguished by the coldness of the road ahead, but by the spirit of the Aurors. The name is passed down from generation to generation.After many days of waiting in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Injuries, we finally had the honor to meet Harry Potter, the son of James Potter, who captured Peter Pettigrew, and Ellie, the daughter of Lily Snape. Silk Snape, the two poor little people who had just been frightened, looked extremely strong. They both said that it was their mutual support that allowed them to bear the parting from their parents bravely.

"We both said that? When did we say-" I was dumbfounded.

"Look below, Alice, don't be too quick to get angry—" Miss Granger looked at me worriedly.

It is reported that Harry Potter and Alice Snape are currently studying at Hogwarts Gryffindor College, and the two have a close relationship as childhood sweethearts.Inheriting their parents' talents, they also perform well in school and are widely loved by other students. In addition to visiting their parents, Miss Snape also gave her little boyfriend a handkerchief to express her intimacy. Maybe we can look forward to future pride There will be more excellent couples in Luojie, just like the parents of Neville Longbottom, the boy who survived the catastrophe.

I couldn't say a word, I just opened my mouth wide and looked at myself in the newspaper, lowered my head and handed the handkerchief to Potter, and felt that my face on it was very strange, and the words that I knew were also very strange—the burning pain on my face , the gazes of the people around me were like divine sharp edges gouging out on my body without a shadow.

"How could it be? There was no one around us—not a wizard!" I heard myself speaking in a shrill voice, "This reporter—who is it? Rita, Rita Skeeter, how could— —”

"Don't worry about Alice." Miss Granger tried to comfort me, "Although it's all nonsense, I didn't say anything bad, it's just some wrong gossip—"

"Just some wrong gossip?" Black stuck out his tongue. "If Snape saw this, the first thing he would do when he came back would be to poison Harry."

"Don't think so badly," said Ron Weasley, "it's possible that Snape won't get out of the hospital by the end of his final exams—what the hell are you doing pinching me, Hermione, oh no, I mean— "

"For your kind words," I said coldly, "my father will be home this week, Ronald Weasley."

I know Dad wouldn't poison Harry Potter for a tabloid article like this, but it's not out of the question to put him in solitary confinement for a few weeks.But why am I so flustered?I stared fixedly at the self in the newspaper who lowered his head and handed out a handkerchief. Why did I lower my head at that time?Why did I go to the trouble of wrapping the hairpins?It really looked like I was handing something to Potter shyly and affectionately, what would anyone else say?

No, why do I suddenly care what other people say?Do I hear less of those ugly words?The traitor of Gryffindor, the spy who reported to Dad... I have heard titles that are much uglier than Harry Potter's little girlfriend. Why am I so nervous now?

I looked up to see Draco on the Slytherin table, and Parkinson had just handed him the Daily Prophet, giggling.He looked at the few paragraphs that Parkinson only showed him with a blank expression, then impatiently folded up the newspaper and threw it into Parkinson's arms, picked up his schoolbag and left the auditorium.Crabbe and Goyle, still eating breakfast, followed slowly, bacon sandwiches still in their mouths.

He didn't even glance at the Gryffindor table the whole time.

I lowered my head and packed my schoolbag to go to today's Arithmetic and Divination class with Miss Granger. When I passed the long table in Slytherin, I heard Blaise Zambini blow a long whistle to me.

"The childhood sweethearts are very close?" He asked me jokingly, "How many childhood sweethearts did you have?"

I took a deep breath and prepared to ignore him.

"Maybe she plans to follow your mother as an example." Parkinson still giggled, "Oh, maybe it was her own mother who taught her this way. Didn't her mother wander around James Potter and Between Professor Snape - what if you and Potter are brother and sister? A dirty Mudblood can do anything, after all -"

I turned around slowly and looked into Parkinson's eyes: "Excuse me, what did you just say?"

Parkinson stood up and looked at me viciously: "Oh, Miss Vase is angry, don't you think Draco will protect you this time? I just said that your mother is a dirty mudblood—— "

"Alice!"

I broke away from Miss Granger's grip on me, and my mind went blank.Parkinson drew her own wand after seeing me draw it, but she moved so slowly that I felt contempt and anger filling my body.

"Shen Feng has no shadow!"

It was so slow that she didn't even read a quarter of it in a faint.The whispering in the auditorium just now has dissipated and turned into a deathly silence-of course I didn't count Parkinson's sobbing. I grabbed her hair and pressed her into the cereal bowl in front of me. My wand Slowly moving from the long Slytherin table with a deep rift to her side face.

"Don't move." Seeing that Zambini was about to take out his wand, I spoke softly and nodded at Parkinson's face, "I'm not very good at controlling this spell. In front of her, I won’t know next time.”

"Alice..." I heard Miss Granger calling my name in a trembling voice, "let her go... we can tell Professor McGonagall to let her take care of it, there's no need to— "

"Alice!" The Potter trio came over.

"Don't mind your own business." I never thought my tone would be so like my father's, "She insulted my mother, and she needs to pay for it."

"I look easy to bully, don't I?" The tip of my wand tapped Parkinson's flushed face, and my hand was still firmly grasping her black hair, "I have been hiding, never expressing opinions, let you Pointing—isn't it? So you think it's okay to use that term to insult my mother? You think I'd just be crying in a corner without Draco Malfoy? Huh?"

"Miss Snape!" I heard Professor McGonagall's startled voice behind me through Parkinson's sobs, "what are you doing - my God, who is this table and what spell is it using - Miss Snape, Please let go of Miss Parkinson immediately!"

"I accept all penalty points and confinement, Professor." I slowly let go of Parkinson's hair, watching the disheveled Parkinson hide behind Zambini like a poodle, and spoke to McGonagall inarticulately. sue.

"I also want to assure you in front of Professor McGonagall, Miss Parkinson," I even said, with a touch of humor, "that the next time you insult anyone in front of me, my mother, Glenn Miss Jay, or someone else, I'll make the exact crack in this table show up in your face—or down your neck—"

"Miss Alice Snape!" Professor McGonagall interrupted me sternly, with shock in her eyes, "You, come to the office with me immediately."

"Professor, it was Parkinson and Zambini who provoked it!" Potter stood in front of me, "They insulted Aunt Lily by—"

"I think I've figured out what just happened, Potter." Professor McGonagall still looked at me, who was pale and still clutching his wand, "At any time, Mr. Potter, at any time, you shouldn't use this Spell against classmate, Miss Snape, put away your wand and follow me."

"Get out of the way." I pushed Potter, but he didn't move.

"professor--"

"Get out of the way, Harry," I whispered, "it's none of your business."