Hog's Head Bar, this cramped, dirty little pub with a history of centuries is located on the corner of Hogsmeade Main Road. Several of the windows here were covered with a thick layer of dirt that barely let in the light, and some candles were lit on the rough wooden tables. Almost everything here is dirty, from the floor to the roof, and even the bottles of butterbeer have a thick layer of dust.

Compared with the popular three brooms, what is lacking here is more than a charming proprietress who still exists. Many students who are interested in the Pig's Head Bar will be told: if you're going to the Pig's Head Bar, you'd better bring your own glass. The sanitary situation here is a bit bad, but fortunately there is no health and quarantine department in the wizarding world, otherwise it would be difficult to open a small shop like the pig's head bar.

Although the hygienic situation is worrying, the pig's head bar has always been full of customers. Unlike the Three Broomsticks, the Hog's Head Bar is more open to adult wizards.

Today's Hogsmeade Day was a little different, though, with a sudden influx of students. The boss, who was wiping his wine glass with a dirty rag behind the bar, stared at the scene in front of him with wide eyes.

"Shhh......h

At the Hog's Head Bar, it seems fashionable to hide your face, and most of the customers here cover their faces with veils, and at first glance they think it's a bunch of Dementors sitting there drinking.

Now the group of "Dementors" was turning their heads to look at the group of students who were tall, short, fat and thin at the door.

"I mean, Hermione, you're not in the wrong place, are you?" said Ron, cheekily, "It doesn't look like a serious place to be." "

"Hog's Head Bar!"

"Land of Legends!"

The twins were not frightened at all, ignoring the whispers of the "Dementors" and went straight to the bar.

"Boss, give us a ......"

“1、2、3...... Damn it! Who, don't move! You've miscounted me again!"

Aberforth stared at the furry kids in front of him with wide eyes and dissatisfaction, then threw down the rags in annoyance, as if he had been interrupted while doing something very important, and began to pull out bottles of dusty butterbeer from under the bar.

"Don't count!

"Thanks," said Fred, passing the beer to everyone, "Everyone's paying for it, I don't have the money to buy so much butterbeer?"

"Mr. Dumbledore......" Hermione whispered close to the bar, "do you have a quieter room here?"

"How do you little girl know what my last name is?" Aberforth shook his beard, "who told you that?"

Hermione didn't expect that just one title would cause such a big reaction from her boss.

"Uh...... I also heard it from others. Hermione almost spilled the butterbeer in her hand.

"No!" Aberforth lowered his head and continued wiping his cup with a dirty rag.

By the time Hermione turned around, everyone was seated. They put together two tables and took almost all the spare stools from here.

"Here, Hermione!" Neville beckoned to Hermione.

"Alright, tell me about Hermione, your plan. George took a big sip of Butterbeer, "Oh my God! Butterbeer tastes so much better here than three broomsticks!"

"You're right, maybe we can consider buying from here next time. Fred took a big sip as well, and he put down his glass and looked at Hermione.

"Uh-ahem," Hermione cleared her throat, "as I told you before, that since you're here, it means that you do recognize the problem. "

"What about Harry?" it was noticed that the most crucial person of the day did not come.

"Hmm...... He had something to deal with. Hermione was a little hesitant to speak, and she didn't know what Harry and Dumbledore were going to do, after all, Harry himself didn't know, but Hermione knew that it was better not to say these things.

"You told us that Harry was going to teach us, and he didn't?" said a yellow-haired fellow rudely, "Did you really tell him about it?" or did he not agree with it?"

"Who are you?" George squinted at the guy in front of him.

"Zacharis. Smith. "

"I think you're too close to our lovely sister. Fred said, "You'd better stay away from her!"

The brothers had long seen that something was wrong with this yellow hair, and when a group of people had just converged, this guy had come with Ginny. Their sister is in love, and the brothers are not against it, but if it is someone like Zacharis, they have to talk about it.

Ginny moved her chair away from Zacharis. The brothers' faces looked a little better.

Harry had agreed. Hermione tried to get the conversation back on track, "And we're here today to solve a couple of problems." "

"We're listening, Hermione. "

"That's right, if anyone dares to interrupt you rudely, we'll stick this thing into his body. "

Fred, maybe George, one of them pulled a long stick out of a large pile of things they bought, and no one knew what it was for.

"Okay. Hermione stroked her hair, "The first thing we need to determine is the time, how often do we meet?"

"Let's start with it, it can't conflict with our training time. Angelina said: "We have a lot of players in the squad here, and our new players are still in the run-in period, so we need to train to stay fit. "

"Yes, it can't conflict with our team's training time. Zacharis followed.

"I think we'll find a time that everyone can accept. Hermione was a little bored, and she was now beginning to understand what Solim had said to her.

"But we're talking about improving your self-preservation, do you think Quidditch is more important than improving your strength?"

"That's true!" said Gryffindor's McMillan, "and this year we should all be free from the things that are consuming our energy. I think it's even more important to improve your strength than this year's wizard level exam!"

Hermione was glad to see someone who understood, and while she didn't quite agree with McMillan about the exam, most people here still cared about Quidditch in comparison...... You know, Voldemort and the Death Eaters are planning something outside, and it's clear that it's all about it, and some people still can't figure it out.

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