Chapter 375 Attitude (Modified, Thanks to Super Silver League Ksg, Magic Feather)

"Not a bad day," Michael said, sliding his finger lightly over the timetable. "Herbology, with the Slytherins. Malfoy will be delighted."

Ever since Alan rescued Draco Malfoy in the hall and taught Moody a lesson, the little wizards in Slytherin treated him with special respect. Punish Moody with stronger power, rescue Malfoy, and avoid punishment through power, is this pure blood?

Not to mention Draco's eyes almost glowed when he saw Alan, which often made his female follower Pansy Parkinson jealous.

After breakfast, Allen walked through the wet vegetable field, and when he came to Greenhouse No. 3, Draco was already waiting at the door.

When Pansy saw Alan, he twitched the corner of his mouth stiffly as a greeting, apparently Draco had warned her.

It wasn't until he entered the greenhouse that Malfoy stopped staring at Allen and looked at Professor Sprout, because Professor Sprout was showing the whole class a plant that was extremely ugly. Well, they don't look like plants, they're more like black, slimy slugs sticking straight out of the soil. And each of them was wriggling slightly, and there were many shiny big bulges on their bodies, which seemed to be filled with liquid.

"Babo tuber," Professor Sprout told them cheerfully, "needs to be squeezed by hand, and you will collect its pus—"

"What?" Malfoy asked in disgust.

"Pug, Malfoy, pus," said Professor Sprout, "it's of great value, don't waste it. Listen, you're going to collect the pus in these bottles. Wear your dragon Leather gloves, undiluted babo tuber pus, unusual damage to the skin."

The process of squeezing a tuber is disgusting, but also strangely satisfying. Whenever a bulge is squeezed, a large stream of viscous yellow-green liquid will be sprayed out, and a pungent gasoline smell will be emitted. They collected the liquid in bottles as directed by Professor Sprout, and by the end of get out of class they had collected several bottles.

A deep and deep bell sounded from the castle across the damp field, get out of class was over, and the students dispersed one after another.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. I don't know what Professor Moody will teach. He won't let us cast the Unforgivable Curse." Michael's words made Allen's eyes narrow. If I remember correctly, Hermione's class schedule, today The first class in the morning is...

Thinking of this, Allen quickened his pace, he couldn't imagine Hermione's painful expression.

Allen walked very fast, and when he arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he just saw Harry and Ron walking out of the classroom frowning.

Allen grabbed Harry, "Where's Hermione?"

Ron snorted coldly, and walked past Allen.

Harry glanced at Alan in embarrassment, and followed closely.

Allen frowned and walked into the classroom.

In the classroom at a glance, Hermione leaned over the table.

Allen hurried over and put his hand on Hermione's back, "Hermione, are you okay?"

"Alan?" Hermione took out a book from the drawer and hugged it in her arms, asking in surprise.

"What did you learn in the last class?" Allen was relieved.

Hermione looked fine, without a trace of pain.

"Professor Moody talked about the principles of the Unforgivable Curse, but when I asked him about the abnormality of the spider you mentioned, he didn't answer." Hermione said indifferently.

It seems that my warning worked. Others don't know, but Allen knows very well that Moody originally planned to cast the Imperius Curse on these students. Now that many plots have been changed, who knows if it will leave hidden dangers on any students.

In fact, if it wasn't for worrying about accidents, Allen believed that the most responsible Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher over the years was Little Crouch. After all, the most threatening curse to little wizards is the Unforgivable Curse. However, you can specifically explain these relatively popular but threatening spells that are circulated among the elites of today's magic world during the training camp.

All fourth graders noticed that they had significantly more homework to do this semester.

"You are entering an important period in wizarding education!" Professor McGonagall told them, eyes shining majestically behind square glasses, "your O.W.Ls are approaching—"

"We don't take our O.W.Ls until fifth grade!" Michael said angrily.

"Maybe that's it, Michael, but trust me, you need to be well prepared! There are always only a few in this class who can turn a hedgehog into a satisfying pincushion. Well, maybe more Plus a short treatise on the principles of deformation."

The smart Ravenclaws wisely didn't speak up to refute, why bother to complain and waste time on a matter that is destined to not change the result.

On the other hand, Professor Binns - the ghost who taught them the history of magic - assigned them this week to write a dissertation on goblin rebellions in the eighteenth century.

Professor Snape forced them to research the antidote. They're not taking it lightly, as Professor Snape has hinted that he'll be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their cure works.

Professor Flitwick asked them to read three more books to prepare for learning the summoning spell.

This kind of life makes the little wizards like a clockwork top, busy spinning around.

It wasn't until news of the impending arrival of the other two schools of the Triwizard Tournament spread across the campus that they were relieved from their seemingly never-ending study life.

On Friday afternoon, everyone was called to the foyer and lined up to welcome Beauxbatons and Durmstrang's men.

They waited for a long time, and the little wizards became restless. They were so excited that it was difficult for them to keep quiet for a long time. They speculated how the other two schools would come.

Suddenly, the voices of the little wizards suddenly became louder, and they couldn't help pointing at a huge creature high in the sky in the distance, talking a lot.

It wasn't until the huge thing flew over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, illuminated by the lights from the castle windows, that they saw a huge powder-blue carriage flying towards them.

It was as big as a house, and it was drawn in the air by twelve winged horses, all silver-maned horses, and each of them was about the size of an elephant.

When the carriage stopped amidst everyone's amazed eyes, a boy in a light blue robe jumped out of the carriage, bent down, groped for something on the floor of the carriage, and opened a golden spiral staircase.

He jumped back respectfully, and Harry saw a shiny black high-heeled shoe stick out of the carriage - the shoe was as big as a child's sleigh - followed by a woman, one of the largest. Big, he had never seen it in his life.

It was thus self-evident why the carriage and those silver-maned horses were so large.

Allen noticed that about a dozen or thirteen male and female students had got off the carriage and were standing behind the tall woman at this moment. Judging from their appearance, they were all about seventeen or eighteen years old, and they were all trembling slightly.

This was not surprising, for the robes on their bodies seemed to be of fine silk, and none wore cloaks, and a few students had their heads wrapped in scarves or hoods.

At this time, one of them rushed out suddenly and hugged Allen warmly. To the surprise of the little Hogwarts wizards, Allen didn't push her away.

"Is this Allen's fan?"

"Foreign girlfriend?"

Amidst the divergent opinions, the witch who took the initiative to embrace Allen untied her hood, revealing a dazzing face—it was Fleur.

"Hi Alan, how is Albert doing recently?" Fleur's first question was Albert.

"This weekend, I will let Albert go to Hogsmeade." Alan blinked, and a dazzling smile bloomed on Fleur's face.

"Did you hear anything?" Edward asked suddenly.

Allen nodded and listened carefully. A loud, strange sound floated toward them out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, like a giant vacuum cleaner moving along a river bed...