[hp] Pride and Prejudice

Since then, Harry Potter, Director of Law Enforcement of the Ministry of Magic, and Hermione Granger-Weasley, Minister of Magic, have agreed that some courses at Hogwarts are unnecessary, and the qualifications of teachers are necessary. Only after the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts jointly review, can they jointly teach courses.

Hermione felt that she was a teacher like Snape, who was unlikely to be a good teacher for preaching and learning.

And Harry felt that, like a divination class, it would be better to change it to a female psychology class.For example, at this moment, he simply couldn't understand that she was still talking about love yesterday, but today she changed her face.

"Ola, I don't quite understand..." He frowned, "I really don't understand you."

Her mouth still smelled of mint, and she hurriedly said, "Eat first, I'll leave after Apparating."

"Don't go yet." Harry picked up a dark green potion bottle, "Drink it, it's good for your health."

Ola woke up a lot in an instant, and she could vaguely remember——Alan broke up her and Harry?

Alan, don't live.

But now time is really urgent.

In the end, Ola didn't go back to dress up again, but ran into the telephone booth with a sandwich in her mouth. She pressed the elevator on the third floor below, and Michael stared at her strangely.

"What's wrong?" Ola asked.

Michael held the "Daily Prophet" and did not speak.

Ola put on a serious face, holding a wand: "Hurry up."

Trembling, he handed her the newspaper—"The Savior Was Scammed by a Norwegian Girl"—Rita Skeeter reported that Ola Egil was allegedly the same class as the Savior. Laitlin girl, since the fourth grade, this vain girl has been seeking profit from the savior...

All in all, Skeeter unceremoniously smeared Ola, saying that Ola had consciously applied love potions on her body to seduce the savior since the fourth grade, and she took the initiative to throw herself into the savior's arms in the fifth grade. The girl's savior is quickly smitten with her and even beats someone up for her.

The poor savior is invincible on the battlefield, but she is completely fascinated by her in love, so Aura uses this to embellish herself with the fame of the savior.

Because of the favor of the savior, the Egil family fell on the victorious side, and a girl who had not passed the NEWTs entered the Auror headquarters, which made me think...

——"I don't think that Ola Egil has any dazzling ability to enter the Fratcha Eagles. But, the magic world is happy to open the door to people with the surname Potter from all walks of life, even if it is about to."

Alluding to her entering the team also depends on the close relationship with the savior.

There are also three photos on it, one is the fourth grade prom, the other is the picture of Harry holding her dancing last night, and sending her home in the middle of the night, the two are a love that can't be hidden even if the picture quality is blurred meaning.

In the next second, the newspaper was flying in the air like fragments.

Michael was scared by her and curled up in a corner.

Ola went to check in aggressively, and the entire Auror Department looked at her with ambiguous expressions. Tonks pointed to her cuffs. Ola lowered her head and found that HJP was sewn on the clothes.

She was shaking with anger.

Ola finished interrogating the prisoners angrily.

As soon as she was out, HJP's office also opened the door.Harry looked at her with emerald green eyes, and the cuffs were sewn with a pattern similar to hers. As soon as he moved his lips, Olla spoke first.

"I'm going to find Draco, I'm not free, sorry." She left in a hurry.

His green eyes dimmed into a faint nightlight.

Ola ignored the others all the way. She looked at her strangely from time to time, and when she arrived in front of the hotel in Diagon Alley that was not yet open, Draco, who was well dressed, had just finished looking at the gold watch on his wrist, and saw her.

"Ola," he frowned with concern, "Those reports..."

She interrupted hastily, "Let's talk about business. I don't want to mention those personal matters. I can handle them myself."

"Okay." Draco frowned.

Ola tried to put on a smile.

Draco gave her a detailed introduction to the hotel. His business talent is actually very impressive, as can be seen from the badges he sold in the fourth grade.

"We must widen the gap between us and the Leaky Cauldron," Draco said, "Because we can't bump into other people and take away their customer flow, so we do mid-to-high end and don't let those poor ghosts in."

He pointed at the front desk: "But those who are rich and have a manor at home usually don't come out. So we make a high-end bar on the first floor, and hold dances from time to time. The second to fourth floors are better than the Leaky Cauldron Bar private rooms, a restaurant on the rooftop, high secrecy..."

Draco sighed suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Ola asked.

"Wizards probably can't live in so many places," he said earnestly, "I'm a bit ambitious, and the money I earn from this may not be able to cover the consumption, but if this hotel becomes the foothold of international competitions, then Ola, you How do you think we'll earn?"

Ola's mind suddenly flashed, "You mean, the British Quidditch Cup?"

"These things are up to you, aren't they?" Draco said.

She felt like she was going to throw up her hard-fought breakfast.

"I have friends in various teams, but I don't know if I can do it." Aura grabbed his cuffs irritably, "I haven't made any achievements since I retired from the team. Being an Auror is hard. Even if I have a little sense of accomplishment, I will be questioned and said that I can't do it..."

Draco sighed, but St. Mungo's life had given him the experience of comforting the sick: "You're fine, you're learning what an Auror should be learning in school."

Ola was not comforted at all, and she couldn't be proud of her past-the team's retirement hit her hard.

"I feel like I can't do anything well except for the team," she said sadly, "I'm not good at anything else. My parents are directors, and my brother is also in charge of the storefront. I'm a waste in the whole family. .”

Ola even wanted to sob: "I wrote a manuscript to refute Skeeter, but if the work is not done well, I will still be accused, saying that I got in by virtue of connections..."

Draco held out his hand, "Show me."

Ola snorted heavily. She searched everywhere for papers. Forgive the always proud little girl who suddenly stumbled in her career.

[-]. Ola was in love with John Jones (currently looking for any manuscript connection between John and her), so as to refute the relationship between the fourth grade who fascinated the savior.

[-]. The dossiers of the Order of the Phoenix and the Auror Command can prove the contribution of the Egil family in the Second World War.

[-]. Contact the Fratcha Eagles to complain to the newspaper.

[-]. Need to contact a lot of Aurors who have not passed the NEWTs to write a joint application to complain that Rita Skeeter made a big mistake...

At the end, Draco couldn't help laughing.

"The regulations are actually very clear," he seemed to praise the seriously ill Lockhart again, "but the first and biggest problem is that you and John Jones were in love in the sixth grade, which has nothing to do with getting rid of the relationship with Potter. It's not big, you guys...there are too many photos to prove that the relationship is not cheap..."

Draco paused, "When did you and Potter get together?"

Aura looked at him squarely, and stopped holding back her tears with her face up.

"Yes, um," she bit her lip hesitantly, "the fourth grade prom."

Draco snorted lightly and sighed, "Is it that early? I thought it was at least the fifth grade."

"That's why you broke up in sixth grade, and you fell in love with Jones," he avoided his eyes, and deliberately changed the topic, "Then you became his subordinate, and the old relationship was revived...Ola, if you don't do your job well, really It's easy to be misunderstood..."

"I know!" Ola broke down and pulled her hair.

"I really can't do it well," she sobbed, "I'm just average, I just don't have the strength to tell people that I got in by strength, I really don't deserve the surname Egil, I proved once again that pure blood is nothing No, I can't even compare to hemp seeds..."

"Don't compare yourself to Granger." Draco said bluntly. "How many years have I been No.2?"

Ola smiled through tears.

Draco changed his tone and advised her, "What are the rules of Slytherin?"

"To achieve the goal by any means?"

Draco nodded, "So, Ola, you might as well use Potter's guilt - he is easy to be overwhelmed with sympathy, and directly plead for the now powerful savior to send you to the Sports Center Department of International Affairs or Department of International Affairs, the Department of Sports is what you are good at, international affairs, don’t your family have any relationship with this?”

"In these two aspects, with your talent," he continued, "you may even become the director."

Ola breathed out, her eyelashes still stained with tears: "You are right, I am too sad."

It's a very uncomfortable feeling to be criticized.

"You really want to go back to the team." Draco understood.

They were sitting on the top floor of the hotel, and Ola turned her head to see the whole view of Diagon Alley, and even the storefronts in the Muggle block. Whether it was a Muggle or a wizard, it was like being in the Forbidden Forest Crawling ants.

"The scenery is beautiful." She felt much better. "Even if I have a manor, I will come out to live here. Thank you for your contribution to the hotel this month."

Draco smiled, "If you can book the hotel here for the competition, or the fan club, your contribution will be even greater."

"I have many friends from the team," Ola said, "and there will be no timely life-saving potions in the team games. It is very dangerous in the wild. At least here is a little closer to the potion shop. I will write to my friends from the team. Believe it."

He drank unsweetened black tea, the two clinked glasses, and Draco's pupils locked instantly.

Ola lowered her head in doubt, and saw HJP clearly embroidered with gold thread on her cuffs. This line of words shone with golden light extremely dazzlingly in the sun.

"It seems that as long as you think about it," he laughed dryly, "your career will go smoothly."

After she finished her lunch break, Harry logically called her into the office on the grounds that he cared about the emotions of his subordinates.

Ola is really strange, what the hell is the head of the Auror department doing?Is it in St. Mungo's to heal or go out to send missions, why haven't you come back yet?Why don't you poke the deputy minister's spirit?

The deputy minister almost covered the sky with one hand.

"Sit," Harry turned the slightly worn gold watch on his wrist, "Are you okay?"

Ola sat beside his table, her eyes were red: "It's okay."

"The newspaper office has withdrawn her newspaper," Harry said indifferently, "The Daily Prophet has nothing to write about since the Second World War, so I'm kidding, I've already contacted the Aurors who didn't take the NEWTs, The hemp-seeded wizards who can prove your family, and some files were given to the newspaper, and now Skeeter has written an apology letter."

"Many of the people she defamed have jointly sued the Legal Department," he shrugged, "but she basically does it once a year."

Harry had a letter under his fingertips, but Olla made no attempt to answer it.

He put it down: "Since that's the case, have you been working in the Auror Command for the past two and a half months? Are you thinking of going to another department?"

"Yes," her eyes lit up for a moment, "When?"

Seeing that her overjoyed expression didn't look like a fake, Harry felt displeased, and pursed his lips, "Is it that painful in our Auror Command?"

Ola whispered: "Yeah, I don't like to sit, I like to run around."

He laughed, and a silver-haired girl with flying eyebrows and eyes instantly appeared in his mind. She rode the broom of the Nimbus and drew a long arc in the blue sky.

But Ora sat beside him now, with her silver hair hanging down and her expression mournful.

"You're not happy at all in the Auror Department," Harry's voice was barely calm. "You're happy when you go to the Sports Department, aren't you?"

She raised her eyebrows in disbelief and asked, "Am I really going to the Sports Department?"

"Yes." He affirmed. "Mr. Bagman has always been elusive for members of one of the top European teams. Now that you come out, it is normal for him to throw an olive branch at you."

"Really?" Ola asked again.

Harry sighed, put his warm palms on her little face, and comforted her: "Yes, it's you, our Ola is great, and is the second female Chaser of the Fratcha Eagles this century. The 850th Europa League scored twenty goals in a row."

"Really?" She wanted to cry again.

He looked at her very seriously, with pure green eyes: "Yes, we Olafei are doing well, we are born to belong to the sky, hurry up to the sports department, and return to your own place."

She is like the golden snitch on the field, and it is only a moment to catch her. Let her fly freely in the blue sky.

Ola hummed, with a strong nasal voice.

Harry turned back, his profile glowing, the quill dipped in ink, continuing to slide across the parchment.

Ola stared at him, and looked at his parchment from time to time, waiting for him to fill in the information. The shoes clicked restlessly on the ground, making the rhythm of the strange sister music on the floor. She couldn't help but stare at him. Looking at the portrait of Dobby's freed house-elf on his desk: SPEWforfreedom.

Harry suddenly spoke, as if chatting: "Is there nothing worth remembering in Auror Command for so long?"

"Is the bakery outside the Ministry of Magic delicious?" She changed the subject, "What about you?"

Harry said lazily, "Well, in my heart, Hogwarts is more important than the Ministry of Magic... Ola, do you think what Rita Skeet wrote is half-truth?"

"Kind of," she recalls, "we did get together at the fourth-grade prom."

"You really threw yourself into my arms in the fifth grade, and you really have a scent on your body." He remembered, and suddenly his words trembled with laughter as he wrote, "'Norwegian girls are self-sufficient in appearance, so they are determined to hook up and save the world star to show their charm'..."

Ola pursed her lips, Skeeter was right about this point.

In fact, she didn't have a good impression of Potter when she saw him for the first time, and she just used him as a pastime for the ordinary time with Draco. It's really self-defeating.

So Aura paid more attention to him, but the more she paid attention, the more she fell into it.

But at the beginning of the relationship, she was not complacent that the savior liked her even if she was too much. Ola did have the idea of ​​​​conquering him to show her own charm.

Tsk, the little girl's thoughts.

Harry stopped because of her excessive silence, and said aggressively again: "No, you really think so."

"No," she retorted quickly, "I just don't find it funny."

He apologized: "I'm sorry, just treat me as talking too much."

After Harry finished writing these things, he stood up and handed the parchment to Orla, on which was written a large Ministry of Magic staff transfer.

"Congratulations," he said, "and welcome to the Department of Sports and Sports at the Ministry of Magic."

Olla still had these incredible joys on her face, her eyes sparkling.

Harry stared at her, couldn't help stretching out his hand to wrap her silver hair in a small circle, he sighed softly, "Go fly, my little Snitch, good luck."

He wants her to be happy more than anyone else.

This is probably the happiest day for Ola since she was discharged from the hospital. She was wearing the unique light red gown of the Sports Department. The air was mixed with the smell of earth and grass and the smell of wood from the broom, and the sky was rarely clear in the UK.

"I know you performed well in the Eagles before, that's why you can enter the headquarters of the British and Irish Quidditch League." Mansha, the special Quidditch event handler, said, "So you must be good at handling events, logistics, announcer, There are people who handle the manuscripts of the game, so you can be the agent of the team and deal with the team's coming to the stadium."

Ola nodded.

Mansha continued: "The team you are in charge of this time is the Chudley Cannons."

Ola let out a cry, and immediately understood which team it was—that is, the British team that was at the bottom of the century and couldn't even fly a British Quidditch match after 1892.

"Come on," said Mansha, "you will get a bonus if you win."

She made a gesture of effort, but looked at Ola with malicious intent in her eyes: "You have to work hard, little girlfriend of the savior."

— even the craziest gamblers bypass this team when they bet on football.