HP Dawn Night

In the next few days, there will be only one topic in the whole school: Sirius Black

It wasn't until the first Quidditch match was approaching that this heated topic gradually lost its heat.The weather was getting worse and worse, and the Slytherin team trained on the pitch as always, rain or shine.

But on Saturday, Flint rallied the team in the common room.

"We're not playing Gryffindor anymore," he announced happily.

"Why?" Blaise was taken aback, and the broom in Warrington's hand almost fell to the ground.

"Our Seeker is injured and can't play." Flint pointed at Draco. "The first game is Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. They are now doing their last training."

Today is a stormy day, presumably the weather on the day of the game is just as bad.

"At least we don't have to risk falling off the broom to play Quidditch." Montague patted Flint on the shoulder, "Well done, buddy."

Not having to compete in such weather made everyone feel much better.

"Wouldn't that be a little bit undignified, I mean, against the spirit of Quidditch?" Pansy asked.

"Our Chaser is injured and there's no reason to risk losing the game with a sub who hasn't integrated into the team." I sat by the fire doing my homework.

Draco gave Pansy a curious look: "What's wrong with you today, Pansy, you don't usually care about these things."

"I'm worried that Gryffindor will come back and trouble us," Pansy said, drawing a star chart on the scratch paper. "You know, the relationship between Vio and them was okay, but after what happened last semester..."

"Don't worry about me," I shrugged under Pansy's inquiring gaze. "If they have to talk about Slytherin, I can't talk nicely, it's as simple as that."

The weather was like this until the day before the race, the wind was howling and the rain was falling harder than ever.It was too dark in the corridors and classrooms, so some more torches and lanterns were lit.

"Oh, if only my arm felt better!" Draco sighed deliberately, as the wind outside beat against the window.

Weasley and Granger glared at him.

Potter didn't show up until Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"Take out your textbooks, we're going to talk today—" The door of the classroom was pushed open forcefully, and a figure in a black robe walked in.

"Professor Snape?"

"Did we go wrong or did he go wrong..."

"Professor Lupine is sick today, so I will replace him in a class." Dad walked straight to the front of the classroom, scanning every student in the class with sharp eyes, "I noticed that one person didn't seem to come, huh?"

The class was silent, and after a while Weasley said:

"I'm sorry, sir, but Harry is discussing the tactics of the Quidditch match with Wood."

"Potter, the famous Potter," said Dad coldly, "hope your friend has figured out which team he's going to join, Weasley."

I wasn't surprised to see Weasley blushing.

"While you're waiting for Mr. Potter, I suggest you put your heads down and look at your books instead of looking around foolishly—assuming your brains aren't stuffed with rafflesia," said Dad in a soft, sweet voice. That was enough of a deterrent, and I looked down at the notes I had taken in class, glancing quietly at my watch. Potter was already five minutes late.

After another 5 minutes, a series of fast footsteps sounded in the corridor, the door of the classroom was opened, and Potter rushed in:

"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor Lupine, I—"

However, Potter got stuck when he realized that it wasn't Professor Lupine looking up at him from the podium.

"This lesson started ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think ten points should be deducted from Gryffindor. Sit down."

——Hogwarts routine: Professor Snape will definitely trouble Potter before class.

Potter didn't move.

——Potter's Law: Harry Potter generally does not give in easily.

"Where's Professor Lupine?" Potter asked bravely.

"He said he was very unwell today, so he couldn't come to class." Dad said with a smirk, "Maybe I asked you to sit down?"

But Potter still stubbornly stayed where he was.

"What's the matter with him?"

Dad's dark eyes sparkled: "No life threatening," he said, but his expression seemed hopeful, "Five points from Gryffindor, if I have to call you a third time If you sit down, fifty points will be deducted."

Potter and his father looked at each other for a few seconds, then walked slowly to their seats and sat down.Dad looked around the class.

"I noticed that Professor Lupine didn't keep any records—"

"I'm sorry, sir, we've learned Boggarts, Red Hats, Kabbahs, and Grindylows," said Granger briskly, "and are about to start learning—"

"Quiet," said Dad coldly. "I didn't ask any questions. I just criticized Professor Lupine's lack of method."

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas of Gryffindor boldly.The other students agreed, even the Slytherins.Dad looked more aggressive than ever.

"You are too easy to please. Professor Lupine didn't add any burden to you - I think first-year students should be able to deal with Red Hat and Grindylow. Today we are going to discuss-" Dad clattered through the textbook , until the last chapter.

"I bet twenty Galleons that I never learned that chapter," Pansy whispered.

"Nobody's gonna bet on you, Pansy—lose."

"—a werewolf," Dad said.

"But, sir," Granger seemed to have finally lost her self-control, "we shouldn't be learning werewolves, we should start learning Hinkpunk—"

"Miss Granger," Dad said in a voice that was terrifyingly calm, "I seem to remember that it was I who taught this class, not you. Now I'm asking all of you to turn to page 394." .” He glanced at the whole class, “Everyone, hurry up!”

There was the sound of flipping books in the classroom.

"Can any of you tell me how to tell the difference between a werewolf and a real wolf?" Dad asked.

Granger raised his hands high, as usual.

"Who can answer?" Dad ignored Granger and continued to ask, "Are you saying that Professor Lupine didn't tell you the fundamental difference between the two—"

"We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't gotten to the werewolf chapter yet, we're still learning—"

"Quiet!" said Dad. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can't believe I'm going to meet a class of third-years who can't recognize werewolves. I've got to tell Professor Dumbledore how far behind you are... ..."

"Please, sir," Granger still raised her hand high, "there are a few small differences between a werewolf and a real wolf. The snout of a werewolf—"

"This is the second time you've spoken without permission, Miss Granger," said Dad coldly. "Another five points from Gryffindor for being an outrageous know-it-all."

Granger's face flushed red, and he dropped his hands, staring tearfully at the ground.Pansy looked at her and rolled her eyes in disgust.Ron Weasley said loudly, "You asked a question and she knew the answer! Why ask if you don't want an answer?"

"He said it!" Pansy said unexpectedly loudly, "She spoke without waiting for the teacher to call her name. It's just a question that anyone who has read the book can answer. Who told her to show off on purpose? clever."

"He still called her 'Know it All'—" Weasley cried, not to be outdone.

Pansy sneered through her nose, "Weasley, you call her 'know-it-all' at least twice a week. All your Gryffindor classmates have called her that. What's the point of pride?"

"Okay okay, quiet, quiet," said Dad lazily, and Weasley glared at Pansy, who shot Granger a disgusted look. "Shut up, Weasley!" he said softly. Said softly, "If I see you criticize my teaching methods again, it will be too late for you to regret it."

In the ensuing class, no one made a sound.Granger's sobs could be heard from time to time, but Pansy remained calm as if nothing had happened.

Dad left homework at the end of class: "Everyone write a paper for me on how to identify and kill werewolves. I ask you to fill two rolls of parchment on this topic and hand it in on Monday morning. This class needs someone to take care of it." Never mind, Weasley, don't go, we need to make arrangements for your confinement."

About 5 minutes later, Ron Weasley ran past us and caught up with his friends.Then we heard him call papa loudly and rudely:

"...me scrubbing hospital bedpans, no magic! Why can't Black hide in Snape's office, huh? He can kill him for us!"

"I could kill you right now, Weasley!"

Draco yelled at him.

I pressed Draco's arm that was about to pull out his wand: "Don't be impulsive, Draco."

This time I didn't even get into an argument with Weasley and left.

"I thought you'd cast a curse on him," Pansy said angrily.

"If I want, I can use a thousand ways to get Weasley to apologize to me willingly." I scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes, "but I want to find a way to get Weasley to take care of it once and for all." his mouth."