Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

"Harry, can I invite you to this Christmas ball?"

In the warm Gryffindor common room, a stocky, handsome fifth-year girl stood in front of Harry and asked very sincerely.

It's just that she looks like she'll knock Harry out if he refuses.

Harry swallowed nervously, followed the method Clark told him, and said cautiously, "Thank you, you're a good person, but I already have an appointment, and I'm so sorry."

The girl's face darkened, but she still reluctantly turned and left.

"She's pretty." Ron said fairly justly after watching the girl leave, smiling enough.

"She's a foot taller than me," said Harry, still in shock. "Imagine me dancing with her and not making a fool of yourself!"

At this time, Clark and Hermione, who were doing their homework on the side table, couldn't bear it any longer. They buried their heads and shrugged their shoulders, giggling.

As a [Psion], controlling one's emotions is the most basic ability, and it is professionally trained, unless it is really unbearable.

"Haha-Harry, I'm not laughing at you, but you have refused several times. If you want me to tell you, you should just follow." Clark joked after laughing.

"You already have Hermione, so don't join in the fun. They like me just because I'm famous."

Harry said helplessly, "If it wasn't for this scar on the head, would the girls who invited me to be dance partners still want to go to the dance with me?"

"You're all excuses!" Hermione's words hit the nail on the head, "If Qiu Zhang invited you, would you still consider this issue?"

"How do you know!" Harry almost blurted out before he realized it.

Hermione raised her pretty brows, and she deliberately trimmed her eyebrows today.

"Sure enough, it's Qiu Zhang, isn't it obvious, from the way you look at her, the accelerated heartbeat, the slow pace, and the fact that you always like to take a detour to the school magazine every time—you just came to see her, Right!"

Harry was speechless and could only remain silent.

"If you like it, go after it. What's so embarrassing about it?"

"Go after it if you like, Harry, be bold!" Hagrid said, in the last class of the term Conservation of Magical Creatures.

Because the fried tail snails were finally eaten by several fire dragons, they no longer had to take care of those terrifying big guys.

Today, at Clark's suggestion, Hagrid has brought some salamanders to celebrate the holidays with an outdoor barbecue in this cold season.

The students sat at the shelf table at the entrance of Hagrid's hut, preparing all kinds of food for the barbecue - he prepared a lot, including sausages, mushrooms, potatoes, bread slices, chicken wings, drumsticks...

"I told you that when your father was at school, he was the one who actively pursued your mother."

Hagrid said with a bright smile, as if talking about these past events made him very happy.

"He was a bit naughty at the time, but Lily was a good girl with good grades, like Hermione."

"Then what?" Harry said, throwing the changed mushrooms into a large wooden bowl, and picking up the knife to cut some more. "My mother said yes right away?"

"No," Hagrid shook his head, "your mother didn't look down on him at the time. Fortunately, your father had been stalking him, and in the end she was moved by your father's sincerity."

"Hagrid is asking you to learn from your father, be thick-skinned, and dare to pursue your own love!" Clark brought a plate of chicken wings that had been roasted to golden brown and exuded a charming cumin flavor, and put them on their On the table.

"Thank you, Hagrid," Harry said, grinning. "I'll try."

"Are you coming to that hapless ball on Christmas Day, Hagrid?" asked Ron, who was wielding sausages.

"I want to stop by," said Hagrid gruffly. "I think it's going to be a lot of fun. You're going to do the dance, won't you, Clark? Who are you taking?"

"Of course it's Hermione. As soon as Professor McGonagall announces the news, I'll invite her!" Clark said as he took a roasted chicken wing and put it in his mouth.

His cooking skills didn't seem to have regressed, and he managed the grilling well.

The skin of the chicken wings is roasted to a golden brown, and the protein inside emits an attractive burnt aroma under the Maillard reaction.

Take a bite, the crispy chicken skin crackles, but the inside is full of delicious gravy and tender chicken, playing a stunning symphony with chilli and cumin.

"Look at it, Harry!" Hagrid also picked up a chicken wing, threw it into his mouth, and ate it with the bones and meat. "You have to learn a little bit!"

In the last week of the term, the school became more lively and noisy every day.

News of the Christmas ball circulated among the students, but most of them Clark thought it was a rumour - say Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of espresso mead from Lady Rosemerta on Three Broomsticks, for example. .

However, it might be true that he ordered the Weird Sisters.

The Weird Sisters are a very well-known music group in the British wizarding world. For students who have been listening to wwn (Wizards Radio Simulcast) since childhood, this is something to be excited about.

In addition, some teachers, such as the small Professor Flitwick, simply stopped teaching after seeing the apparent distraction of their classmates.

He allowed them to play games in Wednesday's spells class, and he spent most of his time talking to Clark, discussing some spells.

But other teachers are not so good at talking.

For example, Professor Binns' attention can't be diverted, and he continues to trudge through his pile of notes of goblin rebellion.

The students speculated that since Professor Binns had not let his own death stand in the way of his continuing teaching, it was impossible for him to be distracted by something as small as the Christmas ball.

It's strange to say that he was able to rebel the bloody, thrilling goblin in such a dry and boring way.

In addition to him, Professor McGonagall and Moody did not let the students idle, and each class would be held until the last second before the get out of class ended.

Not to mention Hip, of course, Clark and the others speculated in private that he would rather adopt Harry as his son than let his classmates play games in Potions class.

In each class, he surveyed the class gloomily, telling them that he would test their antidote in the last class of the semester.

Of course Snape wouldn't actually poison the students, but he could still make someone lie in bed for Christmas.

If a qualified antidote is not prepared, this risk may arise at any time.

Especially for students in grades 4 and up, they couldn't possibly miss this Christmas ball because of Snape's poison.

"He's so bad," said Ron angrily that evening in the Gryffindor common room. "Test us on the last day and ruin the last bit of the term with a lot of homework."

"Well...but you didn't actually work too hard, did you?" Hermione looked away from her Potions class notes and looked at Ron.

Ron was busy playing magic cards with Neville, and with Christmas approaching, Clark and their card company released the last deck of the year, in time to harvest a large sum of golden Galleons before Christmas.

After all, what better Christmas gift for a child than the latest magic card.

"It's Christmas, Hermione," said Harry lazily. He sat in an armchair by the fire, performing "Flying with the Artillery" for the tenth time.

"I bet Snape didn't find a partner for the Christmas ball," Ron said distractedly, "or why would he look even worse."

"Before speaking ill of the teacher behind his back, someone had better think about whether he himself has found a partner for the Christmas ball."

"If you want me to tell you, you're going to make it difficult for him."

Joking voices sounded, it was Fred and George.

The two of them sat down at Clark and Hermione's table.

"Ron, can we borrow Piglet?" George asked.

"Okay," said Ron, "but what do you want it for?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the dance," Fred said sarcastically.

"Because we've got a letter to deliver, you stupid big dick," George said.

"Who are you two writing to, eh?" said Ron.

"Never mind your business, Ron," Fred threatened him, waving his wand.

Clark knew that they should be preparing to send a letter to Ludo Bagman.

The two brothers have recently devoted their energy and time to the peripheral products of the Triwizard Tournament. Now that the product design has been completed and production has begun, they also need to consider sales.

For this kind of thing, it is natural to find Ludo Bagman who owes them money.

At this point Fred asked again, "Why...you guys haven't found a dance partner yet?"

"No." Ron shook his head.

"I said, man, you better get up to speed, or the good girls will be picked out," Fred said.

"So who are you going with?" Harry asked curiously.

"Angelina," Fred replied without hesitation, without the slightest embarrassment.

"What?" Ron asked in surprise. "You invited her?"

"Good question." Fred turned his head and shouted across the common room, "Hey, Angelina!"

Angelina was chatting with Arya Spinnet by the fire when she heard the shout and looked towards Fred.

"What's the matter?" she asked aloud.

"Would you like to go to the dance with me?"

Angelina looked at Fred with a measured look.

"Okay," she said, then turned to chat with Arya again, with a faint smile on her face.

"It's done," Fred said to Harry and Ron. "Look, it's a piece of cake."

Under everyone's astonished eyes, he stood up triumphantly and yawned.

"Come on, George, let's send the letter with Ron's piggy first. As for these guys, let them struggle."

The two of them left, and Ron was no longer in the mood to play cards, looking at Harry across the table.

"He's right, it's time for us to do something... Invite someone, I don't want to end up dancing with an ugly guy."

"Ron! Are the rest of the girls ugly? You're so ugly." Hermione said dissatisfiedly.

Hermione was obviously angry, and what Ron said made her feel that he had no respect for girls and was just choosing dance partners based on appearances.

These words are obviously wrong, and any girl with a strong sense of justice will be angry because of this concept.

"Whatever you want to say, although my words don't sound good, it's the truth, but whatever is left is definitely a problem," Ron shrugged helplessly, "If there isn't a suitable one, I'd rather have one. people go."

"I understand," Hermione sneered. "It seems that your requirements are quite high. You want to invite the most beautiful girl who is willing to accept you."

"Um—yes, that's basically correct," Ron said.

"Hehe, it's quite beautiful to think about." Hermione didn't speak any more. She was afraid of hitting this guy, so she packed up her things, pulled Clark and left.

In the days that followed, Hogwarts teachers and students continued to show a desire to impress the guests of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, who seemed determined to bring out the best in the castle this Christmas. style.

The school was decorated with all kinds of lights—

The handrails of the marble stairs are covered with icicles that will never melt, which is crystal clear and has a winter feeling.

The twelve Christmas trees that are customary in the auditorium are adorned with knickknacks of all kinds, from glittering hollies to live golden owls chirping.

The armors along the corridors and the corners of the stairs were enchanted to sing Christmas carols whenever anyone passed by.

But it's especially hilarious that because the armor only knows half of the lyrics, Admin Filch has to drag Peeves out of the armor several times.

Because this troublemaker always likes to hide in it, whenever the armor can't sing any more, he will make up some lyrics to fill it in. UU Reading www.uukanshu.com are all very rude and ugly words.

It's a pity that Harry and Ron still haven't made much progress in inviting dance partners.

He and Ron were very anxious now. After picking and choosing a few times, the girls knew that they were very demanding, and now no one came to invite them.

"Harry—we have to bite the bullet."

On Friday, Ron said, it sounded like they were planning to break through an impregnable fortress.

"When we get back to the common room tonight, we must all have a dance partner--said?"

Hermione, who was on the side, rolled her eyes. She had heard this several times, but every time it came to a critical moment, the two of them were cowardly.

"Maybe they need a little extra encouragement." Clark smiled close to Hermione's ear, and then secretly cast a spiritual suggestion on Harry and Ron.

The two of them suddenly seemed to have been beaten by chicken blood, grabbing their schoolbags and separated from each other.

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