Hogwarts: Bourne Returns from Warhammer

Chapter 205 The Cornish Elf

The British seaside village at night is so quiet that only the sound of distant waves remains.

The lights dotted several houses, making them look particularly lonely. The villagers were already asleep, with only a few wild cats wandering in front of the door. The air was filled with a damp and cold smell that made people shiver.

Peter Pettigrew tiptoed through the winding roads of the village, with only a few barely illuminated street lamps on both sides of the road, looking for the food he longed to eat.

The humid air brings a moist feeling, which seems to be slowly flowing deep inside the human body.

Peter Pettigrew tried his best to shrink his body and carefully sniffed east and west with his nose, hoping to distinguish more food smells from the air.

Although he had just walked out of a family's garage, because he saw the hunting tools in that family's garage, this guy was very conscientious and did not enter their house from the garage. Instead, he just took some clothes and walked away. .

At this time, if anyone who wakes up at night sees this Peter Pettigrew through the window, he will definitely notice his watery, bright eyes, and the sense of cunning revealed in them will definitely make people feel uneasy. .

On his mouse-like face, his pointed nose always seems to be able to smell out people's secrets.

His hair was quite thin and dull, making him look very vulgar.

He was now wearing a faded, stained shirt and a pair of old, nondescript, hard-toed work shoes.

But it is worth mentioning that even though Peter Pettigrew's steps were hobbling and his expression was wretched, there was a vague sense of ferocity in every movement. As evidence, the left hand with a broken index finger may be evidence that should not be underestimated.

He cut off his index finger himself!

Twelve years ago, on the night when the Dark Lord fell, in order to escape for his life and put the blame on Sirius, he sacrificed one of his fingers and used the power to multiply the curse countless times, blowing up the Muggles. Half a street of houses.

In a sense, Peter Pettigrew is definitely a ruthless person.

"Yes! Yes!"

Finally, after constant sniffing, he found a family's carpentry room. Generally speaking, carpentry rooms and garages in villages are actually rooms for storing food. Peter Pettigrew found a few strings of sausages hanging on the beams and potatoes secretly brewed by the man of the family. liquor.

After a hearty meal, not even the casings of the sausages were left, and he stuffed his stomach with several pounds of sausages and wine.

This made him feel extremely satisfied.

After eating and drinking enough, Peter Pettigrew felt like he was alive again, and his little heart started beating again.

"Do you want to do something?"

There seemed to be a voice in his heart that was constantly urging him, and there seemed to be many ants crawling on his body (in fact, it was more likely to be fleas). Peter Pettigrew felt a sense of heat.

He twitched his nose twice more.

Animagus is not a simple transformation. In fact, this magic can bring many unusual characteristics to the wizard who masters it.

For example, Animagus is a wizard in the form of a stag, and generally has a stronger self-healing ability than normal people; Professor McGonagall, who can transform into a tabby cat, still moves very vigorously despite his age; Animagus wizards in mouse form may even have a better sense of smell than dogs.

Just by sniffing, Peter Pettigrew confirmed the owner of the room.

"There's only one man." He smacked his lips lightly. He seemed to feel a little unsatisfied. "That's not to say it's not possible. Muggles are no different anyway..."

While thinking about it, Peter Pettigrew picked up a wallpaper knife from the tool table, and then tiptoed towards the small doorway connecting the carpentry room to the living room.
-
"Don't tell me, those moves are really suitable for him."

Looking at Gilderoy Lockhart, who was standing in the corridor, arrogantly taking photos with the little witches, Ron complained in a low voice as if he was a bit disgusted.

The photographer who took their pictures was a first-year Hogwarts freshman named Colin Creevey, who was also a Gryffindor.

The boy is of mixed race. According to himself, her mother had never told them about wizards before receiving the letter from the owl. This is almost exactly the same situation as last year's Hufflepuff freshman Justin Finch-Fletchley, except that the parents' identity has been changed.

"My dad was shocked. He never thought that my mother was a wizard and not just a reporter working in Fleet Street!"

This is what Colin Creevey said when introducing his son, and he did not forget to show off the magic camera his mother gave him.

"This was a school gift from my mother, a magical camera that she pieced together little by little during her years at Hogwarts, but when she decided to go to work, it had no use - it Taking those moving photos will do a lot of damage to the Muggle psyche."

When he said this, Colin pressed the shooting button towards Harry. And as the magic flashlight burst out with a burst of fireworks, a puff of green smoke immediately rose. At that time, Harry felt that although he was a wizard, his mind might not be much stronger than that of Muggles.

From then on, Colin would take photos with Harry whenever he had something to do. Ron teased them hilariously: "Don't let Colin and my sister Ginny get together, otherwise, they will form a 'Harry Potter Fan Club' on the spot."

About a week into the school year, when the news gradually spread that Gryffindor, except for a young photographer, was the happiest person in Hogwarts Castle, it was naturally Gilderoy, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. · Lockhart is none other than Lockhart.

He even deliberately created a chance encounter before class today: when Harry was asked by Colin to take a photo again, Master Malfoy, who was going to take Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Gryffindor, couldn't help it. Opening his mouth like honey, he once again started a series of sarcastic remarks about Harry Potter.

At this moment, Bourne saw with his own eyes Gilderoy Lockhart, who had been waiting for something at the corner of the stairs, first took care of his clothes, and then strode towards them, with his turquoise robe behind him. Floating.

"What's going on, what's going on? Who is sending signed photos?"

Harry opened his mouth to explain, but Lockhart put an arm around his shoulders and shouted cheerfully: "No need to ask! We meet again, Harry!"

Harry was pinned next to Lockhart, feeling feverish with humiliation. Malfoy, on the other hand, made a secret face at him and retreated triumphantly into the crowd.

"Come on, Mr. Creevey," Lockhart greeted Creevey with a smile. "It's a great deal to take a photo together. The two of us will sign it for you."

Colin clumsily picked up the camera and pressed the shutter as the afternoon school bell rang.

Then, another girl wanted to take a photo with Lockhart, and Lockhart accepted all the requests.

When Filch rang the school bell, the students gathered in the corridor next to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom dispersed. Some of them could only run all the way to the classroom because the next class was not a Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The classroom where the class is held.

"May Merlin bless you."

Bourne shrugged his shoulders and said something to Colin's figure. If he remembered correctly, Gryffindor's first-year class was going to the basement for Potions class this afternoon, and I'm afraid not all first-year students could pass through the moving stairs as quickly as he did last year.

"A word of advice, Harry," Lockhart said, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders in a fatherly way as they entered the building through the side door, "I'm covering you from little Creevey— If he had photographed the two of us, your classmates wouldn’t think you are too arrogant..."

Bourne noticed that Lockhart didn't listen to Harry's stammering defense at all. He walked with him through a corridor full of students and entered the classroom.

The students stared at them.

"Look, it would be unwise for you to send out signed photos at this stage - Harry, that's a bit arrogant to be honest.

One day in the future, you will be like me and need to carry a stack of photos with you wherever you go..."

He chuckled. "...But now I really feel that you haven't reached that time yet."

Lockhart patted Harry's shoulder affectionately, then walked into the classroom first, waving to the students who were already seated.

Noticing the gazes of his classmates, Harry, who was following him, suddenly turned red, as if he had been shot in the face by "fire."

He hurriedly walked to a seat next to Ron and sat down. He lined up Lockhart's seven textbooks on the table, blocking the line of sight between him and Lockhart, as if this was the only way to make the situation clear. He felt better.

They did a test in the last class. In the first half of this class, Lockhart looked like he was going to explain the test paper to these little wizards.

"Tsk tsk——

Almost no one remembered that lilac was my favorite color, and only two little wizards answered correctly. I mentioned it emphatically in "A Year with XZ Snowman".

Some students also want to read "Wandering with Werewolves" carefully - I clearly stated in Chapter 12 of the book that my ideal birthday gift is for all magicians and non-magics to live in harmony.

However, I wouldn’t say no to a large bottle of Odengo Aged Firewhiskey either! "

He winked mischievously at them again. Ron was now looking at him with an expression of distrust. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas in front were shaking with silent laughter, but Hermione was listening intently. Lockhart suddenly mentioned When her name came, she was startled.

"…But Miss Hermione Granger knows that my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and sell my own line of hair lotions—"

He turned her paper over and gave him a thumbs up. "—Good girl! One hundred percent! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a trembling hand.

"great!"

Lockhart smiled and said: "Very good! Ten points for Gryffindor! In addition, a young wizard also gave a very good answer——

Burn Slughorn! "

Bourne was mentally prepared for Lockhart's praise. As a person who is watched by the emperor, although he is not like those corn spirits, almost all of whom have severe "perfectionist" syndrome, he is also pursuing scores.

The so-called "Volume King" is it.

Of course, he had no intention, nor would he memorize nearly all of Lockhart's books like Hermione did. He only read the useful parts of them - that is, after excluding Lockhart's boastful words, what was left The following narrative content.

Naturally, he couldn't get perfect scores like Hermione. However, compared to other little wizards, Bourne has more advanced question-answering techniques.

"Although this little Mr. Slughorn didn't answer all the questions correctly like Granger, he wrote very well in the self-proposed essay.

Well, it's just like... Professor Lockhart was only awarded the third-level Order of Merlin. I feel that the Council is still a bit too conservative. He deserves at least a second-level medal... something like that is not quite correct.

Your professor, in fact, does not value those false reputations. Everything I do is out of my heart and I work hard for a harmonious relationship between Muggles and wizards..."

After talking to each other, Lockhart also gave Bourne five Academy points. Gryffindor House was pleased to give fifteen extra points. Such a generous gesture made the other little wizards cry with envy.

"Back to business——"

After finishing the paper, Lockhart finally started the formal lecture.

He bent down and took out a large cage covered with a cloth from behind the podium and placed it on the table.

"Now beware! My mission is to teach you to defend yourself against the most evil the wizarding world has ever known!
You will face the most terrifying things in this classroom. But remember, as long as I'm here, no harm will come to you.

So, all I ask is that you remain calm. "

Even Harry couldn't help but poke his head out from behind a pile of books to get a good look at the cage.

Lockhart put a hand on the hood, Dean and Seamus stopped laughing, and Neville, who was sitting in the front row, shrank back in fear.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "That will irritate them!"

The whole class held their breath, and finally, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor lifted the cover.

"Did you see, what we are going to learn in this lesson is..." He stretched out his arms theatrically, "...how to deal with the Cornish Elf."

Seamus Finnigan couldn't help but let out a sneer, and pure-blood family wizards like Draco Malfoy also showed similar expressions.

"What?" he asked Seamus with a smile.

"Well, sorry Professor, I didn't mean to. It's just, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" Seamus laughed so hard he couldn't breathe.

"Don't be so sure!" Lockhart shook his finger at him angrily. "Don't underestimate them. In fact, these Cornish elves are just as cunning little destroyers as devils!"

Hearing this, even Bourne lowered his head, pursed the corners of his mouth, and suppressed a smile.

He was professionally trained not to be amused unless he couldn't help it.

At the same time, he couldn't help but think to himself: "You are worthy of being yours, Gilderoy Lockhart, for offending both the devil and the Cornish elves with one sentence."

The little elves were iron-green, about eight inches tall, with small pointed faces and very shrill voices. They looked like many budgies quarreling in a cage. As soon as the cover was removed, they began to chirp, jump up and down, shake the cage bars, and make all kinds of weird faces at the people nearby.

"Well," shouted Lockhart, "let me see how you deal with them!"

He opened the cage door.

Now everything is in chaos.

Cornish elves are flying around like rockets. Two of them grabbed Neville by the ears and tried to lift him up. Some others rushed out of the window and scattered broken glass all over the back row of the classroom. The rest wreaked havoc in the classroom, worse than a rampaging rhinoceros.

They grabbed ink bottles and threw them at the whole class, tore many people's books and papers into pieces, tore off the pictures on the walls, turned over the waste bins, and threw schoolbags and textbooks out of the broken windows. . After a few minutes, half the class was hiding under the tables and Neville was swinging from the chandelier.

"Come on, round them up, round them up, they are just little elves..." Lockhart shouted to the little wizards.

He rolled up his sleeves, as if he wanted to use the newly bought wand (Ollivander gave him a new wand with an owl) to cast a spell.

However, before he could recite the spell, he found that all the Cornwalls seemed to have been pressed on the pause button, suddenly hovering in mid-air.

(End of this chapter)