A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

With a confused look on Harry's face, he handed the letter to Hermione and Ron, who were eager to read it.

"Ms. Jane, in terms of writing skills alone, you are really not suitable for writing books, and some are too straightforward... This is a joke. I suggest you write from the perspective of a girl orphan, and lift the veil of the past layer by layer... As for how Wear them in a string, and you might as well find a theme that runs through the whole story-

Why does the mayor protect civilians?

Why is the boy willing to be undercover?

How did the girl's orphan survive?

As a digression, some information is only known to the person concerned and the people closest to it, and appears incomprehensible to onlookers. For example, I have a sniffler called Warren. Only I know that it sleeps for a few hours a day, and only I know that it has been addicted to games recently and can't extricate itself... If one day it stops being extravagant, don't be surprised, maybe I have banned its pocket money.

After reading your story, I am still convinced of this.

Finally, I suggested changing the name of the owl, who didn't seem very happy when I called him 'Zhu Weiqiong'. "

Hermione looked thoughtful after reading the letter: "Is it really that bad?"

Ron let out a snort of laughter, "I'd say Hedwig shouldn't be named Piglet (Ron's owl), that would be silly." Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"You agreed at the time." She looked at Harry inquiringly.

Harry didn't catch her gaze, and he lowered his head to think. "The theme that runs through the whole book...what could it be? Guilt? Not quite right, Voldemort has no guilt."

"Man, the answer is obvious," said Ron. Harry glared at him, and Ron turned his head and whistled.

At the weekend, Harry bumped into Snape again at the library door, and Snape came out with two large, thick books in his arms.

Harry felt relieved. This means that Snape has not locked the keyword of Horcrux yet, and it is normal to think about it carefully. Hermione rummaged through the forbidden books area and couldn't find some reference materials. She even knew the name of Horcrux!

The only book that mentions the word Horcrux is "Toxic Magic", but the author of this book seems to be deliberately intriguing and only speaks halfway.

How disappointed Harry was at first, how happy he is now.

"Potter! What are you doing?" Snape said coldly, striding forward. From this angle, Harry could see that the cover of the book he was holding was the face of a twisted wizard who seemed to be suffering inhuman torture, his mouth open enough to fill a coconut.

"I'm going to the library to look for books," said Harry.

He looked away from the book cover and stared at Snape's face. It was completely spontaneous, and from the first time they met, Snape had shown a strong sense of hatred for no reason. Harry hated Snape too, whether it was his slow, out-of-tune way of speaking, or his cold, stone eyes, his greasy hair, and his huge hooked nose.

None of these factors made Harry like it, let alone put it together. Even if that doesn't count, Harry doesn't think Snape is a good teacher - he's notoriously biased, even Sirius tries to keep himself fair, but Snape takes points Buckle up recklessly...

"I don't see it, you seem to be waiting for someone?" said Snape maliciously, staring at Harry's bulging pocket, "I guess you have contraband in your pocket, hand it over. Fee. Archie would be interested."

Harry obediently took out the thing, it was a silver-grey substance like a liquid, rustling from the palm of his hand and fell to the ground, piled up in a pool, glistening.

Snape took a deep breath.

"It's my invisibility cloak, something my parents left me. It's saved me a few times, from Voldemort." Harry said, staring into his eyes, "Professor Snape, it's contraband. ?"

Snape didn't speak for a long time.

The two seemed to be engaged in a silent bout, at least that's what Harry thought. He had been prepared for this, and if Snape was going to confiscate it - which was exactly what he wanted, he would turn around and get it back, because the Invisibility Cloak was a birthday present from Headmaster Dumbledore.

Snape looked away from the Invisibility Cloak and stared into Harry's eyes. After a while, he said coldly, "Put it away!"

Harry bent down slowly and picked up the Invisibility Cloak from the ground. At this point, he didn't know what to do, and his plan didn't tell him what to do next. Hesitatingly, he felt darkness in front of him, a wind blowing, the hem of the black robe brushing against his hair, and Harry looked up, only to see a hurried back.

Harry stared at Snape's back, a strange emotion fermented in his heart. In the evening, he pushed open the door to the lounge, and Ron and Hermione rushed around eagerly, "Where have you been, Harry?" "Yeah, we've looked everywhere."

"I went to the covered bridge," Harry muttered.

"Covered bridge?" Ron looked at him inexplicably. "Why go there, it's so cold outside—"

"Thinking of something," Harry mumbled, and he went back to the bedroom, undressed, and lay on the four-poster bed. He hadn't slept well that night at all, which led to the next day in a daze and went to class with dark circles under his eyes.

"Tell me what color it is, Potter?", in Potions class, Snape's eyes flashed maliciously, spooning out the potion from Harry's cauldron and letting it flow back, the class All students can see.

"Green," said Harry stiffly.

"What color should it be?" Snape asked again in his unpredictable voice.

"Pink," Harry replied.

"Pink, so you can tell the difference," Snape repeated, and there was a burst of laughter around. "Then you should know that what you're boiling is just a pot of waste water...you can only get zero points, Potter." With a wave of his wand, the liquid in the pot was swept away.

Harry sat down with a blank face, shaking with anger. He wasn't doing well enough, but Goyle's potion was a mess, and Crabbe's cauldron was reeking of stench and black smoke, but Snape gave him a zero. Without thinking, Snape was targeting him.

He stared at Snape's back as he returned to the podium, this time Harry didn't have any mess in his head, he just wanted to curse him. The bat essence spell had a different temptation for him at this time, and he had already imagined the scene of a group of bats flying out of Snape's huge hooked nose.

"Don't be impulsive, Harry." Hermione beckoned him to calm down. Ron didn't have time to talk, his cauldron was steaming, spitting yellow bubbles.

...

Felix had been wondering how Voldemort would be present at the school in the Ministry of Magic until late January when he heard Sirius complain.

"Nothing to do," Sirius whispered, it was breakfast time, he was dealing with a tough-looking steak, the knife and fork hit the plate with a sour sound. "I don't know why the Ministry of Magic sent a team into the school at this juncture to check out the effects of Apparition and the Dominance of Followers...Is this not trust me?"

"It's not bad, Professor Flitwick complimented you." Felix said casually while flipping through the Daily Prophet.

"It's--his--habit--" Sirius was still wrestling with his steak, breaking the plate with too much force. He pointed angrily with his wand, and the plate immediately returned to normal, and again, the steak fell apart.

"No, I have to ask Amelia what the hell she's up to!"

Felix didn't mean to mix, he closed the paper and drank the last bit of milk.

"What are you busy with recently?"

"Build a house."

"Um, sorry?"

"It's really building a house," Sirius said vaguely as he devoured the beef, "Building all kinds of terrain, you know you can't do that in a castle, and I don't think classroom 7 is real enough... I want to take the students to the screaming shed. The house is adventurous, and it is convenient to arrange some traps."

"You're still on school probation," Felix reminded him.

"Thank you."

The two went to class separately, and the atmosphere of the seventh-grade ancient rune class was very relaxed. Although it is the last year, with a variety of novel teaching techniques, students have been making rapid progress, and this is the subject they need to worry about the least.

Felix took the students to classroom 7, and two ghosts floated past them, chatting as they walked, "Today's dessert is good."

Students are used to it.

One by one, they passed through a wave-like barrier. Felix stopped at the door and waited until the last student jumped in. After a few seconds, a figure exactly like him condensed in the air.

Felix's memory looked up and down his body, and grinned: "Are you going to do something bad?"