94 Diagon Alley

    So risky. said Fred smugly. He borrowed a lot of gold from them. They jammed him in the woods after the World Cup, robbed him of all his gold, and still wasn't enough to pay off his debts. The goblins had followed him all the way to Hogwarts, watching him closely. He gambled and lost everything. There are not even two gold coins on him. "

    "Oh," Gwen said with a shy, happy look, "you compliment me too much, Fred, I won't let you talk about yourself like that. In my heart you're just as smart as George, Don't put yourself last."

    Fred took a big step back as if under a huge shock, and pointed at Gwen and trembled, "George, how could you allow her to say that about me—"

    "Come on, Fred." George impatiently reached out and waved the fly that didn't exist in his ear, "You're really addicted to drama. But I admit that we are indeed equally smart."

    Fred is like a wounded little beast, "If Angelina is here, the four of us can fight."

    "Do you know how that fool is going to pay the goblin's debt?" George patted his brother on the shoulder perfunctorily and asked Gwen.

    The little witch shook her head, "Stupid Bagman, if you owe money to the goblin, I'm afraid it will cost at least twice as much."

    “Yeah, he needs a lot of money—” George said.

    "—he's betting on Harry, man," Fred said, "betting a lot of money that he'll win the tournament. With the goblins ."

    "Ha!" Gwen sneered from her nose sarcastically, "Negotiate terms with the goblin." Then she added a wind barrier to the open-air tower, and kept saying , "Garrick has told me since I was two years old that the goblins in Gringotts are smarter than the black-hearted merchants in Knockturn Alley."

    "I have no problem with that," Fred shrugged, "but do you know what that means?"

    "Bagman did sneak up on trying to help Harry win the game," George replied.

    Gwen then understood the ins and outs of the matter. "But how does knowing this help you get back all your savings?"

    Fred stretched out two long fingers: "Two ways. First, we use this to threaten Bagman and ask him to pay back the money immediately. Second, we and He got on a boat, figured out a way to help Harry win the championship, and then got all the Galleons back logically."

    Gwen carefully observed the twins' expressions, thinking that they actually knew the idea was not a good idea, and her role in coming tonight was to be the annoying opponent of this small team.

    "Well, I don't want to be such a spoiler, you forced me." Then she began to criticize their methods, "First, Bagman probably has a few silver left. Xi Ke and Tong Nat are gone, and you can't get anything by threatening him now. The greedy goblins must have squeezed him out before you."

    The Weasley Brothers made an identical gesture for Gwen to continue.

    "As for the second one, I don't think he can help Harry much. And we can't necessarily help him. The third project is mysterious isn't it?" He took out a roll of parchment from his bag, and wrote and drew on it, "Harry and Diggory are both 85 points, Krum is only five points less than them, and the last one is the German who failed in the previous project. Raquel."

    Fred and George also came over, "We can put some Weasley magic trick products on Harry, if he faces Krum in the final, throw it directly..."

    "Hogwarts will be ashamed for you, throwing super-strong dung at the opponent." Gwen interrupted them. "Harry is very lucky to pass the first two levels. To be honest, he is only fourteen years old, and the other contestants are all grown ups."

    "That's why his odds are high." Fred propped his chin.

    The three were silent for a while, before Gwen rubbed his forehead and said in frustration, "I can't think of a better way, friends. Bigger than Bagman Threats are the goblins who are staring at them."

    "We could have robbed him when his Galleon got his hands--this is a robbery on behalf of justice." Fred also rubbed his face with his hands.

    "It's a pity he's a civil servant at the Ministry of Magic," Gwen thought with disgust at the fact that such a man was a director. "He knows you. It's not good for Mr. Weasley."

    There was a slight noise from the stairs, Gwen and George immediately turned around and pulled out their wands, nervously confronting someone who was unknown.

    Fred did not understand why the two looked like frightened birds, and looked downstairs. The stairs were empty. Not a single figure.

    George put away his wand suspiciously, "Let's be here today, we have to go back to the dorm before curfew."

    "Okay," Fred didn't question the decision, "unless we figure out a better way, for now we can go with the second plan, which doesn't do us any harm."

    Gwen hesitated, then nodded in agreement.

    All the way back to the Gryffindor girls' dormitory calmly, after saying goodbye to the two, Gwen began to think while lying on the bed writing the paper. If in the end the twins don't get back their savings, what about Weasley's Witchcraft and Wizardry? George revealed more than once the brothers' plans to open a shop belonging to them in Diagon Alley. It was Fred and George's business, and they wouldn't want Gwen to provide financial support for no reason, and she didn't have enough savings to open a store. To be honest, old Ollivander may have been a good craftsman, but he was definitely not a successful businessman. So Gwen counted the cost of doing business in Diagon Alley with his fingers crossed, and realized that the twins' poor thirty-seven Galleons couldn't do anything. So how can she help them?

    Just after Gwen rejected her ideas one by one, she suddenly realized that the biggest problem facing the Weasley store was the high rent in Diagon Alley. Then Gwen jumped out of bed—Ginny sat up in fright—and threw herself at the little table to write a long letter, borrowing Katie's stocky owl, and mailing it to Garrick.

    A few days later, at the Gryffindor table in the early morning, Gwen had just eaten a scones with butter and jam, and swallowed another fried egg, facing the The toast on the plate frowned. George put the piece of toast in his mouth quite naturally, helping her out of a big problem.

    The owls who delivered the letter flew in, and Hermione raised her head eagerly. She seemed to be looking forward to it. "I ordered a copy of the Daily Prophet. Now that I know everything from the Slytherins, I'm sick of it."

    A grey owl flew towards Hermione. Unexpectedly, after the gray owl settled on the plate in front of her, four barn owls, a tan owl and a gray forest owl flew in immediately.

    "How many orders did you send out?" Harry said, grabbing Hermione's goblet to avoid being knocked over by the horde of owls. They were all scrambling forward, trying to be the first to get the letter to her.

    "Damn, what the hell--" Hermione said, taking the letter from the gray owl, and reading, "Oops, Oops!" She said angrily, her face turning red.

    "What's going on?" said Ron.

    "This—this is just ridiculous—"

    She pushed the letter to Harry, and Harry saw that it was not handwritten, but as if it had been made from letters cut out from Wizard Weekly.

    You are a bad girl. Harry Potter deserves better girls. Go back to your Muggle home.

    "It's all these kinds of letters!" Hermione said desperately, opening the envelopes, "Harry Potter deserves a girl a hundred times better than you...should Boil you in green algae... oops!"

    She just opened the last envelope, and a yellow-green liquid sprayed onto her hands, giving off a pungent gasoline smell, and large yellow-yellow blisters immediately appeared on her hands.

    “The undiluted balbo tubers have pus!” said Ron. He picked up the envelope carefully and sniffed it.

    "Ouch!" Hermione cried, tears streaming down her face. She took a napkin and wiped the pus from her hand, but her fingers were covered with thick, painful sores that looked like thick, pimpled gloves.

    "What's the matter?" Gwen asked, looking at the farce at the dinner table, "Who did Hermione offend?"

    "I warned her!" said Ron, "I warned her not to mess with Rita Skeeter! Look at this..." He read out Hermione's other Letter: "I read in Witcher Weekly that you were playing with Harry Potter feelings, that boy has suffered so much, just wait, I just need to find a big envelope and I'll send it to you next time A spell. Gosh, you gotta be careful."

    "That's why I never subscribe to Wizards Weekly," Gwen wrinkled his nose in disgust, as if smelling something disgusting, "they didn't say a word—they It sounds more credible."

    Hermione clutched her terribly swollen hands, "You're probably the number of people in school who haven't read that article, Gwen. Thank you so much..."

    "Stop it, Hermione, you have to go to Madam Pomfrey's quickly." Gwen couldn't bear it.

    "Ron and I will explain the situation to Professor Sprout..." Harry said quickly.

    Hermione continued to receive malicious letters for the next week, even though she followed Hagrid's advice not to open them