Hogwarts snake wizard

"Today the weather is fine and the scenery is good."

On the roof of Gryffindor, Samael rarely wore no formal clothes, casually dressed in casual clothes, humming ancient folk songs with oriental charm.

But strangely, when he dropped the syllable on the three words "so clear", the sky suddenly covered with dark clouds.

Thunderclouds rolled, bean-sized raindrops poured down, and after the rain drenched the entire outer wall of Hogwarts Castle, it disappeared eerily.

Then a strong wind hit, blowing all the water stains off the walls.

"Oh, what the hell is this weather."

Samael grumbled strangely, and as soon as his voice fell, the sky suddenly became sunny and the wind was fine.

"This is really Merlin's blessing."

"Such a magical natural phenomenon actually washed the entire Hogwarts."

"Xiangrui! This is Xiangrui!

Samael's tone was exaggerated, and when he met Professor McGonagall's deep eyes, he unconsciously flashed a trace of weakness.

Professor McGonagall sighed, shook her head, and turned to leave.

The student will not be limited by the teacher when she is older, and if she can do this, this student has already given her face.

"Let me say, you're too perfunctory."

Branson looked at Samael, who did not have any water stains on his body, and couldn't help but speak.

"Do you want to come?"

Samael is also a little helpless, obviously when facing Lao Fu, his acting skills are so brilliant, how can Professor McGonagall be so clumsy.

This is probably the difference between loving and not loving.

"I can't come."

Branson took two steps back, and he was barely able to play the weather spell to this extent.

He didn't understand why Samael could activate a weather spell of that magnitude simply by covering his eyes with a thick fog.

It's not like a magical nature, but like a pure spiritual force.

Too lazy to think about it so much, the tip of his nose twitched, attracted by the figure on the Quidditch pitch.

"How could Potter be here?"

"Is this a Quidditch member selection?"

Branson was a little puzzled, hadn't he already determined that Voldemort was still alive?

This is...... Not going to take revenge?

Who doesn't know that the captain of the Quidditch team needs to work hard and bother, and is it bad to practice two more spells with this effort?

"This is Dumbledore's personality charm, which can make people forget hatred and sink into gentle township."

Samael looked at this scene coldly, not to blame that after the death of Old Duntou, Harry's every growth was accompanied by the death of his relatives and close friends.

"I'm speechless."

Branson wanted to say something, opened his mouth and only held out such a sentence.

"Get them away."

"Today's Quidditch field is ours."

Samael turned around and opened several mysterious space doors in front of him.

Listening to the faint wailing behind him, the angry scolding can also be roughly guessed, Branson's way is not so gentle.

But what does this have to do with him.

He doesn't like school bullying or bullying, after all, the wailing of the weak does not inspire his sense of accomplishment.

But, emotionally, today this Quidditch he also wants to play.

Six years later, since knowing he was a flying broomstick's squib, he had extinguished his expectations for the sport.

But who ruled that Quidditch could only be played on a broomstick?

Outside the space door, everyone saw Samael's figure walking out one after another, and Draco hastily put on his clothes, covering his slightly strong figure, and looked at Samael with resentment.

"Don't look at me like that, the damn weather just now was like seeing a ghost, and the clothes I just changed just drenched me into a chicken."

Draco grumbled and walked out quickly.

"Quidditch, play or not?"

Samael tossed the ball in his hand and spoke defiantly.

"Play, don't play is grandson!"

Draco, as the new captain of the Quidditch team, could not stand this stimulation and shouted loudly.

However, after hearing the rules, he immediately became calm and denounced Samael as a heretic.

"Can use magic? It is not allowed to use flying tools yet? "

This rule is no worse than tailor-made for Samael.

However, for the glory of Malfoy, he still gritted his teeth and let it out.

They outnumbered exactly two teams.

Draco, Branson, Seamus and Theodore are the first team.

Samael, Beverly and Derek are a team.

Luna was not interested and was willing to be a referee.

Don't look at Samael's team of small people, but the momentum exuded should not be underestimated.

Everyone stayed in mid-air, their eyes glued to the ball in Luna's hand.

"Begin!"

With a crisp sound, except for Draco, everyone tacitly did not grab the ball, and released their momentum with all their strength.

Just as Draco touched the Bludger, the screams rang out instantly.

"Beverly, you actually poisoned in advance and didn't follow the rules!"

Draco fell violently from the sky, and dense pus began to grow on his arm, and the pus burst, leaking disgusting pus blood.

Draco gritted his teeth and braced himself on the ground with one hand, and the originally lush grass and trees on the grass instantly withered and turned into flying ash.

The broken and dirty arm instantly recovered.

Draco gritted his teeth and flew again, only to see that the Bludger had reached Branson.

This guy has wings himself and is far superior to others in terms of flexibility.

"Soul wail!"

Derek stood calmly in front of him, looking at him playfully without a trace of pupils in the whites of his eyes.

As the spell was pronounced, a dense black figure appeared behind him, each exuding the aura of Senhan, roaring at him.

Branson felt that his soul was about to be frozen, gritted his teeth and opened his arms, and endless thunder fell from the sky.

"Fak, freeze me!"

Branson let out a cold breath as he looked at the shattered black figure, moved quickly, and just wanted to score a goal but found that he needed to face Samael.

Branson secretly urged the Wings of the Sky, and the thunder that had not yet had time to dissipate condensed again.

Samael smiled slightly, and casually shattered the fire dragon that spewed flames behind him, and the fire dragon turned into endless flames to surround Samael tightly.

Beverly tried to intervene but was haunted by Draco.

"A combination of thunder and flame?"

"Not bad!"

As the dark clouds were pressed down, the thunder rioted, and Branson just wanted to manipulate, but found that a thick layer of fog condensed on Samael's pupils.

A familiar feeling hit instantly.

"Theodore, run."

Theodore manipulated the flames with all his strength, his black hair turned red, and he faintly heard Branson's cry.

Thunder roared, masking his voice.

Just as he was about to step forward, he found that the thunder that had originally aimed at Samael instantly turned over.

"Branson, you're a pit!"

This was Theodore's last inner activity before he was hit, and before he could say it, he felt a strong sense of paralysis and burning.

Theodore stared at him tremblingly, slowly raising a scorched middle finger.

A thousand words are in silence.

......