A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

Hermione stood at the door of the locker room, peering over and over, as the snowflakes from the sky accumulated a thick layer on her hat.

She let out a breath of cold air and stomped her feet.

"I forgot to bring the thermostat locket... oh, yes, warm like a stove!" She took out her wand and pointed at herself, and in an instant a warm current spread all over her body, as if sitting by the flaming fireplace in the lounge , she couldn't help yawning.

The locker room door opened.

Betty came out first, looking listless, followed by Fred and George, who drooped their shoulders and seemed to be heading for a battle that was doomed to fail. Angelina's headache came from the door of the lounge: "Okay. Well, Harry, you persuade him and wish us luck..."

Harry responded vaguely, and then Angelina came out with a numb face, her expression even weirder, Hermione thought. Angelina looked dead, with only a husk left to wander around.

Hermione walked in and Ron sat in the corner of the lounge. Harry glared at him.

"What's the matter, the game is about to begin, and everyone's in a bad mood? Oh, oh, uh—"

Hermione looked past Harry and saw Ron leaning back on the bench, his eyes dull and pale, his eyes dazed at the ceiling.

Harry gave Hermione a look.

At this moment, Ron moved suddenly, with a dexterity that surprised Harry and Hermione.

"Harry, cast the Happy Charm on me," he said eagerly.

"What?" Harry looked at him blankly.

"Happy Charm," said Ron, his lips turning purple with cold, "that's the only way, the one I've been thinking about all morning."

"what happened?"

Ron sat back slowly: "I admit I'm a little nervous, just a little... well, very nervous. Harry, I can't be lifted up and down, Angelina said I'm no worse than Wood, Professor McGonagall waived it. My Transfiguration homework..."

"Can't you sum it up in one sentence?" said Hermione impatiently.

"I'm afraid that I won't be able to defend a single ball." Ron said hesitantly, "It's strange, I didn't have this thought at all before, but I woke up this morning and thought of it all at once, I want to enlighten myself, go around the dark I walked around the lake twice, but things got worse and worse, I'm now cold hands and feet, dizzy, flustered, short of breath, and nauseated..."

"That's because you didn't eat anything in the morning!" Harry said sullenly.

"Yeah, but I don't think it makes any difference if I eat it..." Ron said hoarsely.

"I don't think so. If you're worried about underperforming, you don't need to. Your opponent should be more worried." Hermione encouraged him: "The Slytherin goalie is a fool, what's his name? on?"

"Miles Bridge," Harry chimed in.

In all fairness, he thinks Bleach is playing well, but when Bleach tried to spell Chaser Arya in the hallway two days ago and failed, Fred and George uttered harsh words, saying they would not let it go. He walked off the Quidditch pitch intact. Harry, of course, was on the team's side.

Harry followed Hermione's words comfortingly: "Yeah, think about it, Slytherin's team sucked this year, Flint is gone, their new captain is Monta, you know what kind of person he is. —"

"I came over and saw him yelling at the players, with his sleeves rolled up high and showing a pair of hairy arms, and I thought he was holding up two hairy hams," Hermione said sarcastically.

Ron smiled stiffly.

"Their batsmen are new too - Monty got Crabbe and Goyle in, and I don't know why, they're so dumb they can't even tell the broom's head from the tail," Harry continued.

Ron's eyes rolled.

"To be honest, I don't know what you have to worry about," Hermione said irritably. "Compared to the adventures you've been through, a ball game is just a pediatric, a, a game."

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione at the same time, annoyed at her indiscriminate words. Hermione waved her hand in embarrassment, "I don't mean to look down on Quidditch—"

"Yes!" said Ron suddenly. "You just don't like Quidditch."

It would be Hermione's turn to stare at him.

Ron tilted his head.

Hermione continued: "Think about the trolls, three-headed dogs, basilisks, dark wizards, fire dragons, mermen, Death Eaters, Voldemort..." She said a long list, and finally concluded: "Compared to these, the result of a failed Quidditch game is really not worth mentioning."

Harry didn't think it could be compared like that. Some things, although not dangerous, were also much more difficult, but he didn't intend to demolish Hermione's stage. It was just asking for trouble, and there was no benefit other than detonating another trouble. So he said against his will, "Yeah."

Ron stood up, as if alive again. "That makes sense... Hermione, did you bring anything to eat?"

"No." Hermione said dryly.

"Don't lie to me," Ronter said affirmatively. "You must have a bunch of food in your beaded bag."

Hermione reluctantly took out a bag of compressed biscuits and threw it at him.

Ron tore open the package and ate, Harry swallowed, and he ate very little in the morning, not because he was nervous, but because he didn't want to eat too much to affect his state.

"Guys, how are you guys talking?" Angelina stuck her head out of the locker room door.

Harry made a no-nonsense gesture and competed with Ron for the last of the chips.

Angelina's expression was a little dazed, "It seems that you are really all right, then come out quickly and start the preparatory activities. Do you have the heart to let three girls face seven gorillas?"

"And Fred and George," Ron mumbled, splattering chips.

"I don't know if I can count on them. The two of them are taking a photo with the professor's Sniff. Give you a minute." She disappeared.

"Come on," said Harry.

"Wait." Hermione took out her wand and pointed at the two of them, and their bodies immediately became warm, as if they were surrounded by a fire.

"What spell did you use?" Harry asked.

"Warm Charm," Hermione said.

Harry suddenly realized. Familiar memories suddenly flooded into his mind. He remembered that it was also a winter. They were trudging through the thick snow to Hagrid's hut. On the way, Professor Hepper introduced the warmth spell. Only Hermione was shivering from the cold. Sometimes I was in the mood to ask questions, and I was more concerned about the gossip when Sirius was in school.

A story called 'Gryffindor Freshman and Hufflepuff Prefect'.

One of the protagonists of the story is now a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, and the other is the Minister of Magic. Harry was in a trance, even if he wasn't a witness, he still felt amazing, and he understood Mafalda's thoughts somewhat. Someone next to him pushed him.

"Don't be stunned and set an example for next year's new players," Hermione said.

Harry grinned.

Snowflakes fluttered in the sky, and when they fell on the ground, they condensed into ice crystals. The icy wind was painful. Felix sat in the stands and felt a warm atmosphere that was diametrically opposite to the weather. Warren sat on his shoulders, holding his precious wand. Two little feet tossed.

"The hat is beautiful, and your eyesight has improved."

Warren was in a better mood.

Felix opened his palm quietly, and a suction force poured out from his palm, and the little wizard on the court felt a chill down his spine.

"Why is it a little cold?" a student said dissatisfiedly.

"Isn't it cold all the time," said the person next to him. "Look, the two teams are shaking hands. The game is about to start!"

The two teams greeted the thunderous cheers, and the emotions accumulated for a whole year burst out at this moment, Felix quietly increased the suction, those full, passionate, warm and joyful emotions gathered in him. In the palm of his hand, he looked like a Dementor hiding in the crowd.

It's just that he didn't absorb much emotion, the students shuddered at most, and then they became more enthusiastic and applauded. With Felix's in-depth research on the magic-like talents of magical beasts, he naturally learned about the properties of magical powers in magical beasts.

This is a kind of magic that is different from a wizard's body.

Precisely, the properties of the magical powers within each magical beast are different, Felix guessed, and these magical powers are clearly influenced by their own anatomy.

"The talent of magical animals comes from the body, and the talent of wizards comes from the soul, or the wizard's soul is the most special - the ghost itself carries a certain magic power and can slightly control water and fire - when the soul and the body are combined, it is There will be a steady stream of magic..."

"This is just a guess." Felix raised his head and looked towards the center of the arena.

The captains of the two teams stood up and shook hands. Warren called out and pointed with a small wooden stick. The whistle sounded and the game officially started.

Fourteen players rose into the air at a very fast speed, and soon they became blurred shadows in the snowflakes in the sky. It was still Li Jordan who stood on the high platform and explained to the audience:

"The game started. Johnson grabbed the ball first, of course, her weight was only half, maybe a third of the opponent's weight. After a year, new faces appeared in the players on both sides, Gryffindor new The addition of a goalie is a key position; two new batsmen on Slytherin's side...Look! Johnson got past both of them, is she going to attack? Oops, sorry, almost ."

"The Quaffle is in Slytherin's hands now, Warrington is running for the goal, there's nobody in front of Warrington, the Bludgers are not around, just the Gryffindor keeper! He's new to the team --oops!"

Harry hurriedly looked at the goal, and Ron threw himself out, rubbing the Quaffle with his fingers, but not holding it. Harry seemed to hear a sigh, and closed his eyes in despair.

"Fantastic! The ball stopped! Great, I have to say, a good start—" Lee Jordan said excitedly.

"Jordan!" shouted Professor McGonagall on the side.

"Look next time prof, let's get back to the game, Ron defended, good start, now it's Gryffindor's turn to attack, Fred and George are around Slytherin goal, I know it's not what Tactics, they told me privately, ahem..."

Harry didn't listen, he looked at the goal with wide eyes, Ron was shaking his fist excitedly, and judging from the trajectory of the Quaffle, his hand should have changed the position of the Quaffle so that it was rubbing The goal flew past.

Harry was excited, knowing that the first ball was the most dangerous for Ron. Ron's biggest weakness is that if he makes a mistake, he loses confidence. If a ball is missed, he gets upset and loses more balls. It was Ginny's data, Harry chose to believe.

He started commanding the broom to fly, the snow grew thicker, his vision became blurred, and he nearly hit the Bludger twice. After confirming that Ron's side didn't need help, Fred and George seemed ready to fulfill their pre-match promise. Two of the three at-bats went to the Slytherin goalie. Leitch was horrified, and he dropped two balls in a panic.

The game heated up, and when Harry brushed past Draco Malfoy for the third time, he was about to count how many blisters Malfoy had on his mouth, Malfoy looked like he was sleepwalking, and Luna Some fight.

Finally, the referee Mrs. Hooch whistled. Harry hovered high in the sky and looked down. Katie seemed to be entangled with Warrington. fly.

"Severe foul!" Mrs. Hooch yelled angrily.

It took a while for Katie to get her broom back, and Harry took the opportunity to fly beside Ron, "How's it going?"

"Not bad," said Ron. "I blocked five balls, missed three, and I almost got the hang of it." He grinned happily, "but the other side was worse, Fred and George blocked Bleitch and he didn't even care about the goal."

"Look out they do the same to you," Harry warned him.

Ron looked uneasily at the Slytherin team, and Monty spoke to Crabbe and Goyle, bare-armed, who looked like triplets from this angle. Crabbe and Goyle winked stupidly in this direction.

"Can I use a wand?" Ron asked uneasily. "I wouldn't be able to hold back the spell if they came all over the place."

"Then you'd be sent off and our goal would be screwed," Harry said.

The game continues.

Harry decided to end the game as soon as possible, and as time goes on, the situation will become more complicated. He flew high into the air, looking down from a few hundred feet, the wind and snow were getting bigger and bigger, and the effect of the warming spell was gradually disappearing. It was especially difficult to find a ball the size of a walnut in this situation. He went around twice and found nothing. Instead, he saw Mafalda sketching a crooked stick figure in the audience. It was a snake with horns. Harry glanced at it and decided that he would have a chance to take this matter in the future. mocked her harshly.

From time to time, Lee Jordan's commentary pierced into his ears, "The score is very tight - the two teams seem to be pissed off with each other's goalkeeper, I don't know if this can be a new tactic, but - Goalkeepers in the future beware - Derian Purse got the ball -"

Harry finally saw it: the Golden Snitch was hanging near the Gryffindor goal.

Crabbe and Goyle flanked Ron, followed by Derian Purse, forming a triangle formation-seeming to copy Gryffindor's tactics in the first half, Ron was pale, if he didn't use magic, He suspected that he would be squashed by the two of them. Suddenly his eyes lit up, and he saw Harry swooping down from above.

Ron's heart surged, Harry came to save him! The current rhythm seems to be on the right track. He can think of countless similar situations. He just needs to feel at ease and do his own thing. What is it? Ron jumped forward and stopped the Quaffle. At the same time, he heard the wind whistling in his ears, and Harry hovered upwards with the Snitch in his hand.

There were enthusiastic cheers on the court, and the lion hat on Luna's head roared in the cold air, which shocked Warren.

"The game is over."

Felix shook his head, this Slytherin team is really bad, and the coordination is even more problematic. However, it has little to do with him. He took the opportunity to collect the last wave of emotional samples and was going to go back and study it.

It is difficult for a person to create an emotion that he has not experienced, and he is even less able to create such a strong collective emotion on the Quidditch pitch.

In the evening, a coin Felix kept close to his body suddenly became hot.

It was Bundy, the house-elf. After nearly a week of waiting, did the man from Nurmengard finally make a decision?