Archaeologists at Hogwarts

Chapter 370 Doubt

Office of Ancient Magic.

Lockhart kept fighting for one last chance to explain himself. He didn't want his name to appear on the next day's The Quibbler.

Toby, who was sitting behind the desk, silently listened to Lockhart's "analysis".

"It can't be me." Lockhart said firmly: "I know my suspicion is serious, but it's really not me. I have been hiding in that ghost ship for the past few days, so as not to let Skrein Jay has a chance of finding me."

He explained for a long time, so long that even his mouth began to feel dry, and his stomach gradually became hungry.

Only then did Lockhart remember that he hadn't had dinner today.

But if he can't pass the level of the black devil, he probably won't have the chance to have dinner again in the future.

Just when Lockhart took a short break for a round, he heard Toby suddenly ask himself——

"Then who do you think will put the names of Harry and Cedric into the Goblet of Fire?"

Lockhart shook his head in confusion—is this the test of the black devil?
"I don't know." He said hesitantly, "There are not many people who can do this."

Lockhart was obviously very aware of the ability of armor and devils, and he also learned that the devil seemed to come from a powerful ancient Greek wizard—the invincible Herbo, and it was not something ordinary people could hide from it.

"It's really not much." Toby stared straight at Lockhart and said, "In this case, why don't you let Grindelwald contact me as soon as possible? If he can't explain his suspicion clearly, how can I contact him? How about him cooperating with Dumbledore?"
-
"So you really haven't?"

"I don't have the time, let alone the ability?"

"I do not have either."

Harry and Cedric exchanged a look in silence, and they sighed at the same time, which was really something neither of them wanted to see.

"I'll go first." After leaving the auditorium, Cedric did not climb the marble stairs, but walked to a door on the right side of the stairs. He finally said to Harry: "I think we should talk together if we have a chance. Let's talk about it, what do you think?"

"Anytime," Harry muttered, all he wanted to do now was to sleep well and not have to think about anything.

After Cedric left, Harry walked up the stairs with his head down. His steps were heavy, and he couldn't figure out why his name appeared in the Goblet of Fire.

Where is the problem?

Could it be from jealousy?Some people feel very uncomfortable after seeing him become a world champion, and plan to take this opportunity to make him make a fool of himself?

but what's the point
Just as he was about to reach the eighth floor, he heard a sound from above his head.

"Harry, is that you?"

He looked up and saw the exact same face he had pictured in his mind.

It's autumn.

A minute later, the two stopped in front of a floor-to-ceiling window on the side of the corridor, quietly looking at the night sky on the playground, and the lights in Hagrid's hut were still on.

After another brief moment of stalemate, Harry broke the silence and said, "It wasn't me—"

"I know." Qiu's decisive answer made Harry feel that no matter how much he was wronged, it was worth it.

"But other people don't think so." Qiu continued, "On the way back, I heard that the Gryffindor students have decided to celebrate you in advance, and they are probably waiting for you in the lounge now .”

"It must have been George and Fred's idea." Harry said with a headache. "It's a pity I didn't wear the Invisibility Cloak. It's terrible."

"You still have the invisibility cloak?" Qiu hesitated for a while after asking this question: "How many things do you have that I don't know."

Harry had already thought of Cho's next question - how much did Ron and Hermione not know?

It must be much less than Qiu.

"We just need time to get to know each other."

Harry felt that he was too shameless for saying this, because even he himself didn't know when he would be able to confess everything to Qiu—whether it was the devil or Hai Erbo, this was something that could be said to Qiu. Is it clear?

Maybe he shouldn't have started the relationship in the first place.

"Do you really think so?"

In Cho's face, Harry saw the kind of eyes that seemed to see through everything - just like the eyes that Professor Highmore and Dumbledore would occasionally show.

Harry didn't answer, but Cho already knew the answer.

"It's not fair." Qiu watched Harry's eyes dodge and said, "You know it's not fair, but you still intend to continue to get along with me in this way, right?"

"Because I can't explain it to you."

Harry finally couldn't take it anymore, he retorted angrily: "How can you understand that not everything is suitable for sharing. Yes, that's right, there are many things I didn't intend to tell you, but I can't help it, you don't want to fall in love with a dead person, do you?"

"Dead?" Qiu looked at him in shock, "What are you talking about?"

But Harry had no intention of explaining. He turned his head angrily, ignored Qiu's shouts, and walked all the way to the entrance of the common room.

The fat lady looked at him with a very dissatisfied expression.

"That little girl has been waiting for you for a long time—maybe I should change the password to an apology."

"Random."

"It's about the same to make you aware of your own behavior."

With the correct password, the fat lady opened the portrait, revealing the passage behind.

After the portrait opened, Harry was almost knocked backward by the sudden noise that filled his ears. Dozens of hands stretched out to drag Harry into the common room, but the skill of the best Seeker was no joke. Harry dodged all of them when he dodged.

He stared at everyone in the room with a cold face, and the smiles on the faces of those people had gradually become stiff.

"I'll only say it once."

Harry said in a very impatient tone: "I didn't, and I didn't ask anyone to help put my name into the Goblet of Fire. Okay, please get out of the way, don't get in the way, I'm going back to sleep."

No one dared to stop him, and everyone voluntarily moved out of the way to allow Harry to pass.

George and Fred were each holding a fireworks tube, and they were muttering something under their breath.

"Am I wrong?"

"I'm sure there's absolutely nothing wrong with your eyes—too bad he's looking more and more like Professor Highmore?"

It wasn't until Harry entered the dormitory that he felt a little relief that he could finally calm down.

Except for one thing - even after he slammed the door shut, Ron was lying face-down on the bed, with no intention of turning over.

Harry originally planned to be determined to ignore him, but when he passed by Ron, he couldn't help but roared: "Why, even you don't believe me now? Do you have to use this method to make me look good?"

Ron seemed to have just noticed that Harry was back in the dormitory.

He turned over slowly, his eyes were red, and he looked like he had just cried.

Harry was taken aback by Ron's miserable appearance.

"What's the matter with you?"

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

Ron jumped up and grabbed Harry's sleeve, and wiped his tears and snot on his witch robe: "Why did I give up the plan to open the gamble? So much gold, so much gold is gone! All No more!"

Harry froze for a moment, he remembered that Ron did say that he wanted to open a gambling table where he would become a warrior to make money.

"Is it you?"

"How is it possible, I don't even know the devil." Ron cried and said: "But the gold is gone, hundreds of dollars, even more than the championship prize money, I haven't caught a dime."

Only then, after such a bad day, did Harry finally smile.
-
The aftermath of Harry's election as a Hogwarts warrior was huge. Almost everyone in the school heard that he had lost his temper in the common room that day, and it would not be nice for anyone to bring it up again.

Harry was surprised to find that it made him a lot cleaner. He knew that he should have been angry because of his lightning scar on the first day of school, lest someone keep staring at his forehead and muttering.

There was only one thing that was a little weird—that is, in an ancient magic class later, Mr. Al, who was passing by, suddenly patted him on the shoulder with a gratified smile on his lips.

Although it seemed that he was lamenting that Harry had finally learned some of the essence of Professor Highmore, Harry felt that it would be better not to delve deeper into this aspect. In addition to this method, the strength of so many opponents is greeted.

Hermione was stunned when she heard Harry's thought.

"Shouldn't it be that you guessed wrong from the beginning? What is the essence of Professor Highmore? Your character is really getting worse, Harry."

Harry didn't take this at all seriously, how could he take back his previous thoughts after finally tasting the sweetness.

And he found that being a person similar to Draco was really cool, and it would be even better if it was worse, and there was nothing to worry about.

Ron didn't intend to interrupt at all, he was drinking a bottle of butterbeer in silence - by the way, today was the weekend, and the three of them made an appointment to come to the Three Broomsticks bar to get together.

"You haven't gotten out of those ridiculous fantasies yet?" Hermione changed her target and asked, "It's almost done, how long do you want to continue like this."

Ron didn't answer. He raised the wine bottle in front of him, put it in front of him, and muttered with a trance: "Almost, almost, we can have endless butter beer."

"Stop pretending." Hermione snatched his bottle away: "This is a non-alcoholic drink, what's the point of pretending in broad daylight."

Ron still looked dazed. He swept his hand back and forth on the table, picked up Harry's unfinished bottle and continued drinking.

"He's hopeless." Harry said helplessly, "And you should be thankful that this isn't the first day when the results came out. That was the scariest thing. It made everyone in our dormitory unable to sleep well."

Hermione cut contemptuously, and the voice was so loud that the students around couldn't help turning their heads to look at it, but when they found that Harry was also at the same table, they immediately turned their heads away, acting as if they were watching Harry. Arrived a fierce fire dragon.

Facing Hermione's "take a look" look, Harry comfortably ordered another bottle of butterbeer. He hadn't lived so comfortably for a long time.

"When will Cedric come?"

"It should be soon, he hasn't been as [lucky] as you recently."

"It's not like you like teasing others so much," Harry asked puzzled, "What's wrong with you? Did you eat gunpowder before you came here?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said angrily, "It's because Cedric turned down my proposal!"

At this moment, Ron miraculously asked, "You mean that stupid idea of ​​helping house elves?"

"It's not stupid at all!" Hermione said as she snatched the beer Mrs. Romesta handed Harry, and slammed it in front of Ron: "Go and drink your non-alcoholic drink!"

Harry looked at his empty hands, he had no choice but to ask for another bottle, and Mrs Romesta walked away with a smile.

He turned to Hermione and asked, "Don't you think that Cedric is so good, so he will agree to all your proposals? Don't forget that he grew up in the magic world, and he must have accepted some things from an early age." Ideas that you can't understand - like house-elves can't be [rescued] at all."

When he said [rescue], he deliberately made a gesture of double quotation marks.

"Because they don't want to be rescued at all. You don't even know how I persuaded Dobby in the exam last semester. It took me a lot of effort. Now it seems that you should take this exam. .”

"Arrogance." Hermione said, squinting her eyes at Harry, "you're getting more and more arrogant now."

Harry saw his butterbeer finally arrive again.

"Whatever you say." He stretched out his hand as he said, intending to moisten his thirsty throat quickly.

At this moment, another hand suddenly stretched out from his head and took the bottle of beer away.

Harry turned his head in astonishment, and he saw Cedric gulping down the entire bottle of drink in one gulp, before panting and wiping his mouth, he said, "Sorry I'm late, Dean Sprout made sure to talk to me, and like everyone else, she couldn't believe that I didn't vote for myself at all, I just ran all the way here, if only I could ride a broom."

"Sit down." Harry said blankly, "Another bottle of butterbeer, please, thank you."

The corners of Mrs. Romesta's mouth curled up again, and her graceful figure returned to the bar to take out more stock.

As soon as Cedric sat down, Hermione didn't give him any good looks.

"Are you still mad at me?"

Cedric asked in shock: "Is it because of such a small matter? I really didn't expect you to be serious. I thought it was just a joke."

"Yeah, I'm serious." Hermione said angrily, "You arrogant, selfish, heartless pure-blood wizards—"

Harry didn't listen at all, he watched helplessly as Mrs Romesta approached with his fourth bottle of Butterbeer.

"Can we talk, Harry."

Qiu didn't know when she appeared behind his chair. Her face was very complicated. The moment she appeared, the other three people on the table all looked over at the same time—even Ron, who was silent, stared curiously. Big eyes, don't plan to miss any scene.

"Or, are you going to buy me a drink? I can buy you too."

Harry's face was as hard as a rock, and he said to the bar owner who kept snickering, "Give her this bottle of beer, please help us find another empty table, thank you."

(End of this chapter)