Chapter 852 Writing?

"How are you feeling Harry?"

"What are you referring to? If it was the goalkeeper selection last night, I'm sorry." Harry lowered his head and returned, then naturally retracted his left hand. He had to admit that Umbridge's methods were still very good. Brilliantly, there was nothing left on Harry's hands except some red marks.

In fact, today was another bad day for Harry, he did the worst in Transfiguration class, he didn't practice a single Vanishing Charm at all.

Then he gave up lunch to complete the plant chart. At the same time, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sputraw and Professor Troney gave them another batch of homework that Harry was not prepared to complete that night.

And because he was going to Umbridge's for a second detention tonight. Finally, Angelina told him on the way to dinner with him that the whole team would have a training tomorrow before the new players arrived. And Harry had no hope that he could escape Umbridge's confinement tomorrow.

"I'm in detention," Harry yelled as Angelina walked off with him. "Do you think I'd rather be shut up in old Toad's room or play Quidditch with you?"

"Just writing," Hermione comforted, while Harry lay on the bench looking at the slices of meat and pie. He didn't have much of an appetite.

"It's not a terrible punishment, really."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again, and just nodded. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to tell Ron, Vanlin and Hermione what had happened in Umbridge's room.

He just hoped that others didn't think he was afraid. This will only make the whole thing worse and more embarrassing.

He had a vague feeling that he and Umbridge were going to have a secret war, so he decided not to complain to Hermione.

"He just treated you like this?" Fan Lin said uncertainly. In fact, he couldn't guarantee how Umbridge would treat Harry. If he didn't see it with his own eyes, it wouldn't be considered true.

"Oh, of course...it's just troublesome," Harry said quickly.

"I'm full. Maybe I should go over earlier and finish the copying, so that I can spare time to complete my homework." Harry stuffed a few mouthfuls in a hurry and left in a hurry.

In fact, the second confinement was just as bad as the first, with the skin on the back of my hands slowly starting to turn red and inflamed.

Harry thought it might not be cured for a long time.

Soon, the cut was etched deeply into his hand, and Umbridge, perhaps, would be satisfied. She never breathed loudly in the room, yet he never said a word during the confinement except "Good evening" and "Good night."

Harry had an extremely large amount of homework. When he returned to the Gryffindor common room, although he was very tired and wanted to go to bed, he opened his book and began to write about the length of the moon that Snape had assigned. Essay on Stone Powder.

It was already half past midnight when he finished writing. He knew he was pathetic, but it didn't help at all; unless he was still being detained by Snape.

Then he quickly wrote the answers to Professor McGonagall's questions, and clumsily revised the paper assigned by Professor Sputraw. As for Professor Sputraw's diary, he hoped that he could have a good dream.

Harry tidied up and staggered back to bed. As soon as he put on his pajamas, he fell asleep immediately.

Thursday passed in fatigue.

Ron seemed sleepy too, although Harry didn't know why. Harry's third confinement was exactly the same as the previous one, except that after an hour, the words "I can't lie" still hadn't disappeared from the back of Harry's hand, and continued to stay on it, dripping blood.

The pause in writing prompted Professor Umbridge to come over and take a look.

"Ah," she said softly, walking around the table to examine him and his wand. "Okay. This should remind you, shouldn't it? You can go tonight."

"Am I still here tomorrow?" Harry said as he picked up his bag with his left hand rather than his nimble right hand.

"Oh, of course," said Professor Umbridge, smiling wider. "Yes, I think tomorrow night's work will make my message sink more deeply into your heart."

Harry had never thought that there was a more annoying teacher in the world than Snape, but as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower it occurred to him that there was someone worse than Snape.

"She's terrible!" Harry kept cursing in his mind as he climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. "She's evil, hateful, crazy old—"

"Ron?" He reached the top of the stairs, turned right and met Ron, lurking behind a statue of a knight, clutching the handle of his broomstick.

He jumped in surprise when he saw Harry, then tried to put his Sweeper behind his back.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh? Nothing? What are you doing here?" Harry asked with a frown. "Come on, you have to tell me! What are you hiding here for?"

"I'm...I'm hiding from Fred and George, if you must know," Ron said, "They just walked by with a bunch of first years. I bet they were doing an experiment on the first years. My Meaning, they can't do experiments in the common room right now, no, Hermione isn't here."

"But what are you doing with your broomstick? You can't fly here with it, can you?" Harry asked.

"I... okay... okay, okay, I'll tell you, but don't laugh, okay?" Ron said in a shy tone, his face slowly turning red. "I...I guess I've become Gryffindor Keeper and now I have a decent broomstick. That's it. Go ahead. Laugh."

"I'm not laughing," Harry said. Ron blinked. "This is awesome! Did you really make the team? That's so cool! I've never seen you as a goalkeeper. Are you good at it?"

"I...I'm not that bad," Ron said.

Ron looked very, very relieved by Harry's reaction. "Charlie, Fred and George always asked me to be the goalkeeper during their training sessions during the summer."

"So you were practicing last night?"

"Every night except Tuesday, just do my best, that's all. I put a spell on the Quaffle to make it fly towards me, but it's not easy and I don't know how useful it is." Ron looked Both restless and enthusiastic.

"Fred and George were going to be ashamed of me after my trials, and ever since I became a prefect they've been telling me I'm too proud."

"I wish I had been there," Harry said bitterly, as they left the common room together.

"Yes, that's right - what's on the back of your hand?" Harry just raised his right hand to hide it, but Ron noticed it.

"Just a small cut...nothing...it's..."

"She only wants you to write?" (To be continued)