Harriet Potter

Ron Hermione and I bumped into Professor McGonagall in the hallway after Transfiguration in the third week. She is the only known member of the Order of the Phoenix at Hogwarts besides Snape.I only spoke at the beginning and she pursed her lips into a thin line, then stopped my words and took us to the office, and sealed the door carefully, and did not move her lips until I finished telling all my discoveries I suspect that her mouth may be numb.Ron next to me rubbed his nose, and Hermione adjusted her weight uneasily. They had always been skeptical of my opinion of Malfoy, but after my discovery on Saturday night, they had to admit that Malfoy was The fact of planning something.

"Malfoy must be planning something, Professor. Snape is covering for him." I concluded.

"You should be more careful about your own safety, Potter," said McGonagall.

I almost choked on the words, "But Professor, Malfoy—"

"I heard your suspicions about Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall said clearly, "but what I want to discuss now is your behavior, Potter. Go to Knockturn Alley without the sight of the protector, go alone To the Slytherin carriages and empty corridors, these actions are extremely irresponsible for the safety of yourself and your friends."

"So you think there is indeed a threat in Slytherin?" I asked back.

Hermione took a deep breath, and McGonagall paused for a while, before speaking carefully: "I won't speculate on my colleagues and students like this. What I want to say is that this semester, the Ministry of Magic has greatly strengthened your protection. -"

"I didn't ask for this." I couldn't help muttering, and received a stern stare from McGonagall.

"—The castle has also arranged shift guards from members of the Order of the Phoenix, just to guard against all possible threats. But you are obviously still risking your own safety, and I have to say it's quite unwise." Her gaze suddenly turned to He Min, the latter subconsciously straightened his back, "I was expecting you to persuade your friend to make a more sensible choice, Miss Granger."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione whispered.

"Anyway," five years has passed before I'm foolish enough to argue with her, "you'll tell Professor Dumbledore what I've found, won't you?"

McGonagall turned her eyes back again, and looked at me for a while, "I will report to the principal any abnormal situation in the school. I remember that you three have taken the herbal medicine class in 5 minutes. You'd better be in Spur Professor Lauter rushed to the classroom before he decided to deduct points from Gryffindor."

That Friday night, apparently, Snape immediately dug that memory out of my head, including the conversation with Professor McGonagall.I guess if he knew I told Professor McGonagall he wouldn't try to mess with my mind any more.To my surprise and relief, Snape merely delivered an unsurprising sarcasm about arrogance and publicity, rather than expecting an explanation from him than expecting Voldemort to turn his back on him.

It became a habit of mine to look at the Marauder's Map, and Malfoy would sometimes disappear on it, once or twice a week, for hours at a time.I was increasingly suspicious that Snape hadn't meant to stop him or inform Dumbledore, or that McGonagall hadn't taken my warning seriously.But at the same time, I also know that the head of Gryffindor is a cautious and fearless woman. She will not allow any factors that endanger her students to exist. With this in mind, I can reluctantly confront Malfoy in front of the Room of Requirement. impulse.But I still go down to the eighth-floor hallway from time to time, begging the house to be what it was for Malfoy in every way I can think of, without success once.

Of course, not without interesting discoveries.For example, I found that when Malfoy disappeared on the Marauder's map, the small dots representing Crabbe or Goyle were always wandering in the corridor, but when I went to that corridor, I always saw two first graders appearing alternately Girls, carrying something that makes a loud noise, one of them we saw that night.

"No wonder they don't seem very happy lately." Ron laughed after hearing that. "Think of them when they transform! It must be like a big puddle of mud crushed into small bricks."

"And their original clothes can pack both of them in." I added, by the way, cast a spell of clear water into the basin in front of me to show that I was practicing, and the water splashed out with a splash.

The Charms class was always a good place for discussion, with all the boisterous chanting and waving of wands, hardly anyone noticed what was being discussed.It's been much safer since I learned to use the earplug spell that the Half Blood Prince wrote in the book, the only trouble is whenever I use the help of the Prince Hermione refuses to speak, she is actively looking for the identity of the Half Blood Prince and Any evidence that he's a villain, like she's been messing with the House-Elf Advocate for a while, won't sway her no matter how uninterested Ron and I are.And after I accidentally hang her upside down from the bed with the Fuchsia Charm this morning, Hermione has grilled me no less than ten times about how many new spells I've found in the book - and after I've gone to the trouble of putting When throwing the book to her, he said that he would never read those "prince's things".

Of course she always gets involved in the end, and when the discussion gets to the scene where Crabbe transforms back in a dress that's eight sizes too small, Hermione has to admit it's hilarious.She didn't spill a drop of water out of her basin, and she had already started to practice casting spells into the wine glass.

I made as much fun of it as possible to calm the frustration it caused me.After one particularly frustrating attempt, I pretended to be walking down that hallway the next time Malfoy disappeared, and casually whispered "You're so beautiful" into the ear of the little girl in Goyle's disguise, so that he almost bumped his head against it. to the wall.Hermione gave me a hard time for being reckless after that, and as I became more and more eager to understand Malfoy's plans, she started whispering in my ear again.

"Malfoy may be paving the way for Voldemort to break into the school!" I said impatiently, hitting a jet of water on the ceiling, "and Parvati didn't drop out! McGonagall convinced her parents that at least she won't be this semester." Gone. Not necessarily if Malfoy gets his way."

"Professor McGonagall also said she was paying attention to it! Last time Parvati..."

Ron gave her a hand, and Hermione looked around, then fell silent in horror.Professor Flitwick was getting up from a pool of water not far away, and it seemed that the water column just rebounded and hit him squarely.He walked up to me unhurriedly, which was a little awkward, because I was really not used to looking down at anyone, and the professor was shorter than the table.Flitwick obviously noticed the spell around me immediately, but maintained his usual tolerance and calmness, raised his eyebrows and lifted it calmly, checked my water-stained desktop, and punished me to copy the sentence for the accident just now .

I'm a witch, not a stick-wielding baboon.

After a year of solitary confinement by Umbridge it wasn't much of an enjoyable activity, and on the bright side, at least this time the quill wasn't cutting sentences out on the back of my hand.

Hermione stayed after class to ask questions, and Ron and I went to dinner first, as usual.Hermione didn't show up until I had finished my first lamb chops, looking dissatisfied, and Ron and I looked at each other, tacitly deciding that if there was a problem that Hermione couldn't fix, then neither of us would be able to fix it at all. Do not want to know.

Hermione threw a piece of fried fish onto the plate, crumbs flying everywhere.

"Professor Flitwick said those spells were all right." She sliced ​​the fish with unnecessary force. "In fact, he thought they were 'pretty neat'."

"Oh, that's what it is," I said angrily. "You're really disappointed, aren't you? It didn't prove that I was being manipulated by some clever villain, or that the prince was actually an idiot."

"Since you decided to experiment with a handwritten unfamiliar spell—"

"It was just an accident!" I argued. "I didn't intend to use it on anyone, I just waved my wand thinking about it, you know I'm never a good learner of silent spells."

"That was a joke," snickered Ron, handing Hermione a butter dish. "You know, being hung upside down in a nightgown isn't so...just a joke!"

He clicked and blushed, but Hermione, who was buttering the bread angrily, didn't notice.

"What kind of person would invent a spell to hang people by hooking their ankles? I mean, remember those Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup?"

Immediately I recalled the image of the frightfully hooded procession reveling, with drowsy, powerless bodies floating overhead, and it made my heart sink.

"My dad used it," I blurted out, "I—Lupine told me."

"That's two different things." Ron cleared me up, "They're abusing the magic, Harry and his dad were just joking around. Hermione, you don't like princes," he pointed gravely with his drumstick. Hermione said, "Because he's better at Potions than you—"

"That has nothing to do with that!" said Hermione, her cheeks flushing all of a sudden. "I just think it's very irresponsible to use a magic that you don't understand. Also, don't take another bite." 'Prince', as if that was his title, I bet it's just a stupid nickname, and he doesn't sound like a decent person to me!"

"I don't know where you got that impression." I got excited, too. "If he was a minor Death Eater, he wouldn't keep saying he was 'half-blood,' would he?"

After saying this, I immediately remembered that my father was pure-blood, and that he was not someone who would be proud of it, which basically overturned my nascent hopes.But Hermione didn't remember this. She stopped talking and looked back and forth between me and Ron. I realized something was wrong and tried to change the subject, but it was too late.

"Okay," she said in a strange, slow tone, "well, you just go ahead and don't say I didn't warn you..."

She didn't speak to me or Ron for the rest of the dinner, just ate her food, ignoring any of Ron's attempts to strike up a conversation.Then she went to the library alone, Ginny gave me a sympathetic look over a puzzled Ron from her desk, and I sighed, knowing I was facing at least one more - one-sided - night of the Cold War.

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