A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

Sure enough, the next day, the TV interview led to a lively discussion.

A series of fresh reports jumped out of the machine like fresh toast, eagerly waiting to be buttered and jammed into people's stomachs. Fred and George's personal radio came in handy again, picking out some interesting news to broadcast to "people who still have childlike hearts" each morning after clipping time.

Fred is reading Utopian Society: Progress or Backward? "After the news, I asked the audience for help: "Does anyone know if utopia is a curse word? I read the whole article and still can't figure it out. This guy who calls himself an anthropologist thinks that wizards are a group of people who practice something that fits them." A freak of a large-scale social experiment of ideas, which gives me the illusion of working in vain. Listen to this passage: When material abundance and individual survival ability reaches its peak, the social structure of human beings will inevitably change from strictness to looseness. The concept of the nation will be weakened, and individuals will come together because of a common idea..."

Naturally no one responded to him. After George finished an exclusive advertisement for Weasley's Witchcraft and Wizardry, Lee Jordan introduced the audience to the world outside the UK as he learned from relatives abroad.

"The situation is not optimistic." He said on the latest radio show: "My cousin, who is not sure how many generations apart, scoffed at my hairstyle. They all like to see people with their nostrils instead of eyes. It's a bad association, people like them would never seek refuge with poor relatives and choose to rely on others unless they had to, and I happen to have sufficient sources of information to prove that the people who have fled recently - a more elegant way of saying it is Sojourn - it's becoming more and more."

"I also remind young listeners here that if your family happens to be haunted by strangers, but your parents insist that you are related to them, be sure to persuade them to register with the Ministry of Magic and abide by local laws; There's going to be a hefty fine and occasional Azkaban experience packages - it's not a good time to show character and courage given the fact that there are already quite a few Death Eaters there."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione's voices also occasionally appeared on the radio, and Ron found joy in it, and was so excited to get his voice out there that he even forgot the real purpose of returning to the Burrow.

"Wedding, Ronald Weasley, your elder brother's wedding!" Mrs. Weasley stared at him, "I didn't call you back to let you idle away."

"Mom, I'm doing something important - they have that right," Ron protested loudly.

"Yeah, but you also have the right to do housework," said Mrs. Weasley slightly bitterly. "Now go clean up the goblins in the garden, they're getting more daring, and one day they'll climb up to the dinner table and ask me Change the channel for Magic Radio."

"That proves a lot," said Ron in a low voice. "It's boring to listen to one song all the time."

So Harry and Ron went to the garden and bent over the grass to search for goblins. These creatures looked like mutated potatoes, and they had the same intelligence as when they were still planted in the soil, so it was purely physical work. Min was invited to pick colors for gifts, ribbons, and flowers with Ginny, although the flowers had not yet returned, and Mrs. Weasley had left the task to Fred and George.

"You went back to the Dursleys last night?" Ron asked in surprise in the garden. "Tell me!"

"Go get something." Harry said in a complicated mood. It was difficult for him to describe the scene when he met the Dursleys. It was the first time he went back after the wizarding world was exposed. The Seeleys were clearly unhappy about this.

The dissatisfaction grew over time and exploded the first time he appeared, with Uncle Fenon yelling like a bloated spring, questioning the purpose of the Ministry of Magic's spells in his house, and saying that he He hadn't slept well in a month, and when Harry asked why he didn't ask when the Ministry of Magic staff were still around, Uncle Fenon's expression looked like he wanted to punch someone.

"This is to protect you. With this protection, the neighbors around you will still remember that you have a boarding school—" Harry paused and said blankly, "Nephew, but he will subconsciously ignore it. My face, and my name. That's why. Basically all Muggle-born students have that protection."

Uncle Fenon and Aunt Petunia exchanged glances, an answer that apparently solved a long-standing doubt in their minds: why was Harry at the Queen's afternoon tea without the neighbors coming to harass him? They sincerely prayed that their neighbors would be dizzy—albeit with little hope, since their neighbors, like Aunt Petunia, had a natural sense for trend-setting topics and were willing to spend countless hours delving into the details;

Or is it because all the neighbors' attention is drawn to the leading wealthy wizard professor? They also secretly rejoiced for a while.

"Then... Are you willing to come back now? How long will you stay this time?" Uncle Feinong asked angrily.

"I'm not here to live," said Harry. "I'm here to pack." Aunt Petunia's frying pan fell to the floor, and the hard metal smashed a hole in her favorite wooden floor for summer vacation. Dudley frowned, as if trying to ponder the intricacies of why Harry had to pack as soon as he got back.

Harry could almost hear Dudley's rusty brain working hard. Harry tried not to look at him, and if there was one member of the family who had impressed him in the last few years, it was Dudley who seemed to have taken the slightest interest in magic.

Uncle Fenon jumped up suddenly, startling everyone. He paced up and down the living room with a frown, looking at Harry with sharp and deep eyes from time to time, making people suspect that he had learned Legilimency.

"Anything else?" Harry said impatiently when their eyes met again, making a move to leave.

"Don't be in a hurry to leave, I still have something to ask!" said Uncle Fernon, and Harry stopped to look at him, but Uncle Fernon became hesitant again, the color on his face kept changing, and Harry was amazed. . Finally, before suffocating himself to death, he said, "Is there going to be a war?"

"Finon—" screeched Aunt Petunia.

"Don't interrupt, Petunia," roared Finon. His face turned purple.

Harry stared at him, even though they had lived together for eleven years and spent a few summers together, he couldn't understand what was going on in Uncle Fenon's mind at the moment.

"Why do you think so?"

"Otherwise, why did you suddenly decide to move?" said Uncle Fenon, his little eyes twinkling slyly. "You must have known something in advance, didn't you? Negotiations didn't go well, yes—the papers said it all. Well, I should have thought of that." He thumped his fist, his expression painful.

"Boy, we are your relatives, you can't escape alone!"

"You're wrong, not for that reason," Harry said stiffly.

"What's that for!?"

"I'm an adult," Harry said, feeling relieved for a while, "I'm an adult," he repeated, his voice rising slightly, "so I'm moving out of here, and you don't have to worry about me showing up in the house and messing with you. People gossip, only need to endure a card from an owl on occasion like Christmas..."

There was an eerie silence in the house.

"Well," muttered Uncle Fenon after a while, "since that's the reason—"

"Wait a minute, you're underage," said Aunt Petunia, in the shrewd tone of bargaining with people in the store. "It's a few days away."

"It doesn't matter anymore," said Harry.

He looked at Penny, thinking she was going to say something else, but her mouth was pressed together, so Harry shrugged and went upstairs to pack his things, and after a while he came down again with a suitcase containing the Traces of life in this house. He took one last look at the Dursleys, who looked at Harry with an odd look, and Harry said softly, "Goodbye," and walked towards the door.

His hand was on the doorknob, the sun was dazzling through the window, and there was a sudden creaking of the sofa behind him, as if a giant beast had woken up from a slumber, followed by footsteps, Harry turned slowly, Dudley stood before him, holding out a hand hesitantly.

"Are those magic books really that useful?" Harry looked at him in surprise.

"I don't know," Dudley whispered. "Goodbye, Harry."

"Okay." Harry took Dudley's hand. "Goodbye, Dudley."

Seeing Dudley trying to squeeze a smile out of his face, a thought suddenly popped into Harry's mind, a thought that turned alluring in his head, knowing that Uncle Fernon and Petunia would be offended by this remark. Aunt's fierce reaction, but he still couldn't hold back and said half-prank and half-seriously:

"Hey, Brother D, if you don't find a satisfactory job in the future, you can consider selling magic goods for ordinary people. In case your future child is a wizard, we share some of the same blood, so this possibility cannot be ruled out... "

"Shut up, boy!" shouted Uncle Fenon irritably. "How dare you—" was Aunt Petunia's voice. Harry opened the door of Number Four Privet Drive to a pleasant background sound, the sun was streaming down his face, and Harry turned his head and shouted, "Oh, by the way, Dudley, I'm here and we all know it. There's something left in the place, maybe you'll like it!"

There was another flutter in the house, and Harry closed the door and walked to Sirius, who was waiting at the intersection and smiling at him.

"Is this your farewell ceremony?" Fred and George asked with interest, leaning against the fence, not wanting to come to help at all. In their words, they finally completed the task they explained. Now is the break time. When they were about to find Cedric, they happened to pass by. They saw two strangely shaped butts through the fence, so they came over to find out.

"What's your opinion?" Harry said angrily. The twins raised their hands in surrender. The corner of the rag in their hands hung down. Hit, curse loudly.

"Look out," Mrs Weasley followed, angrily, just in time to hear Ron's words, "I'll glue your mouth up when I hear these words—and you two! she asked the twins, hands on hips. "Have the chairs been cleaned?"

"It's done," Fred said, raising the rag in his hand again.

Mrs. Weasley held her nose back and looked at them suspiciously. "Can you hold back without magic? Where's the flowers?"

"Also ready. We searched the surrounding woods for this," George sighed, and the four watched Mrs Weasley leave, adding in a low voice, "We did search the surrounding woods until we were in town. Met a flower shop."

Harry looked up in astonishment. "How did you get the shopkeeper to agree to sell you flowers? You have money?" He meant Muggle coins, of course.

"Oh, it was a pretty girl who was too young to be persuaded, so we decided to show off our tongues—" Fred said.

"In the end, I got enough flowers in exchange for a bag of snacks from the trick shop." George said.

"What's that?" Ron's eyes widened.

"There's no danger, is it?" Harry said worriedly.

"Don't worry, it's all temporarily approved." Fred said, "You should trust our vision—"

"Or Percy's eyes," said George.

"Anyway, we lied about picking up the wizard's package, which contained some multi-flavored fruit, floating sherbet, vodka, daydream crème brûlée, vampire pudding, canary cookies, sticky tongue lollipops... ' Fred said with fingers crossed.

"In a word, it's all innocuous and friendship-enhancing things." George concluded.

After the two left, Harry turned to Ron and asked, "What is Voddy?" He didn't like the name in the slightest.

"The most Muggle-like thing they've ever invented is said to have been inspired by Voldemort," Ron explained. The mouth is full of sweetness, but the next second it is terribly bitter... a total of thirteen layers."

Harry fantasized about it in his mind and couldn't help shivering.

The morning of the wedding. In the orchard behind the Burrow, Felix and Bill were nominally assigned to inspect the wedding venue, but were actually walking around the perimeter. The two saw Hagrid walking from a distance carrying two logs, followed by the more burly giant Glop, like some kind of ugly summoning.

"The wedding was in the afternoon, and Fleur was in the house doing the final check on the guest list," Bill said. "She decided to do it herself, adding a few invitations that had been dropped earlier and handing them over in person..." See Seeing Felix's eyes, he added: "Not just Hagrid's brother, Sirius also brought a list of big names. We didn't dare tell Mom, she was so nervous. You know, because Fred and George's proposal."

Felix's eyes flickered with a quirk - well, just last night at Harry's birthday party, Fred and George proposed that Grapp snatch Fleur at the wedding, and Groom Bill had to play the role of the hero. Show your bravery by returning to your bride.

Just like some ancient wizards grabbed the evil dragon with their own hands.

This proposal was naturally rejected by Mrs. Weasley mercilessly, and threatened with eyes that if the two brothers dared to say a word on this topic, they would be turned into statues at the door to welcome guests.

The newly arrived Delacours were quite moved by the imaginary heroic drama, but they were stunned when Ginny showed them the giant who lived temporarily in the orchard along the window.