Hogwarts: Harry Returns From The Witcher

Of course, Kingsley had seen many people with different faces and personalities.

Neville looks submissive, but it does not affect that he is a decisive and heroic person.

It just made him feel a little twisted.

The ups and downs outside the gossip, I really can't believe it, Neville is not as cowardly as those people rumored, he is completely a qualified Gryffindor, as for the poor grades, this is normal, like Harry, Hector Min and Ron are the outliers of Gryffindor.

How many of the little lions can sit down and study hard?

Good cubs never care about learning, like George and Fred.

Maybe there was some subject that hindered him.

pity

He still rejected himself.

What is going on at Hogwarts now?

In my class back then, most of the outstanding Gryffindor students wanted to pursue a career after graduation, and Auror was the first. But now he felt that none of the best young wizards in Gryffindor wanted to become Aurors.

what happened!

He sighed and straddled the motorcycle.

Tonks watched from the side, a little at a loss: "Harry, what should I do, squeeze with you?"

Harry waved his wand.

The sidecar appeared, and the link was on the left side of the motorcycle: "Tonks, sit here."

Tonks pursed his lips, climbed in, and squatted with his knees hugged.

The Sorting Hat shook: "The left and right sides are unbalanced, a little uncomfortable, or Harry, you can change out of it on the right side."

"Drive." Harry patted him again.

He flew up with a grunt, the throttle roaring.

"It turned out that the motorcycle that caused Arthur and the others a headache belonged to you." Kingsley looked down at the brightly lit Hogsmeade and the quiet and deep Hogwarts Castle below him.

"Hear that?" Harry started, poking on the horn.

The Sorting Hat reluctantly responded: "That's not my problem, you can't keep a motorcycle at home all day, it's not fair, it's not healthy."

"I remember you as a hat," Harry reminded it.

The headlights of the sorting hat flickered: "It doesn't affect that I am a free motorcycle now. Godric envies me. He is now pestering Albus in the office all day, asking him to find a way to turn himself into a motorcycle." Become a motorcycle, at least you can be more free."

Kingsley and Tonks raised their hands to cover their ears at the same time.

do not listen do not listen

Is this something they can hear?

The Sorting Hat was very fast, and its flying skills were honed day after day. Less than twenty minutes later, they landed in the alley next to the Leaky Cauldron.

"It doesn't feel so fast." Kingsley got out of the car.

"Next time you can invite the Sorting Hat to take a flight without magical protection." Harry also came down. In the witcher's senses, a few ordinary people walked by outside the alley, and a few wild cats were jumping on the eaves.

There is no magic breath.

Including the Leaky Cauldron not far away.

"Harry, you put away the sidecar." The motorcycle twisted the rear wheel.

Harry flicked his wand, and just as Tonks was out of the sidecar, it turned back into a rock and fell to the ground.

"Put me away again, I'm going to have a look." He continued to yell, his breath turned, and he returned to the hat.

In the blink of an eye, the motorcycle becomes unremarkable.

The hat on Harry's waist became active, he took a deep breath, and shook the tip of the hat: "Oh, this feeling, it's been a long time."

"He reminds me of our first time."

While talking, the voice stopped abruptly, and it yelled inconceivably, "Harry, what did you stuff into my body!"

"I thought you wouldn't use this body again." Harry said confidently.

The Sorting Hat gritted its teeth: "How can it not be used? This has been with me for a thousand years! I'm not the kind of hat that loves the new and dislikes the old."

"Really?" Harry said softly, "Then dear Mr. Sorting Hat, since you got the new body of the motorcycle, how many times have you returned to the old body besides school?"

The Sorting Hat was speechless.

He thought about it for himself, it seemed that, except for the task of starting school, or Harry's request, he really hadn't taken the initiative to return to that body for a long time.

Even when playing with Hedwig and the others, they still use the motorcycle body.

Even Crookshanks has ditched the Sorting Hat as a scratching post for his new scratching post on a flying motorcycle—creatures like cats, always so mean.

Harry waved to Kingsley, and they tiptoed to the door of the Leaky Cauldron. With a flick of their wands, a stone on the side of the road took the form of a human being, walked over awkwardly, and pushed the door of the pub open.

The owner of the Leaky Cauldron, also named Tom, greeted warmly: "Welcome, what would you like to drink tonight?"

The stone man continued to walk in.

Tom failed to notice the abnormality of the deformed creature. He muttered, his voice sounded a little dissatisfied: "Thank God, there is finally a guest here. Damn it, I don't know why there has been no guest since noon today."

"Aren't they going to Diagon Alley?"

"Even if you enter Diagon Alley from other places, don't you ever think about going out for a drink when you're tired?"

"Is my tavern not their favorite anymore?"

"Even if it's Christmas, they want to be with their family, but am I not their family?"

Long-winded, he spit out the bitter water, only to realize that the "guest" hadn't spoken to him all this time, and he looked up: "Guest, what would you like to drink? It seems that you are coming to my tavern for the first time? "

No danger.

Kingsley put an armor spell on himself, pushed the door open and went in: "No, it's not the first time."

Tom was taken aback, looked at the strange guest, and then at Kingsley.

I don't quite understand why when I talk to him, the answer is an Auror.

"Sorry, he's not the guest you've been thinking about." Harry walked in, and with a wave of his wand, the stone man returned to its original shape, and flew out of the tavern, brushing against Tonks who pushed the door open.

"Mr. Potter?" Tom was surprised, "What's the matter?"

"A few minor accidents." Harry said succinctly, "The reason why you don't have any guests today is probably not because others don't regard you as family."

Tom blushed a little: "I was just a metaphor."

"You're supposed to hear about the Death Eaters breaking into Gringotts?" Harry asked him.

Tom shook his head in horror: "Gringotts?"

"Death Eaters broke into Gringotts?"

Kingsley frowned: "It seems that they have made full preparations very early, starting at noon. Damn it, the Ministry of Magic has not received any news."

"Isn't it normal that you didn't get one?" Harry shook his head.

Kingsley muttered, saying something like "That was just the Ministry of Magic before, the Ministry of Magic is different now", "Mr. Thicknesse will definitely lead the Ministry of Magic to have a brand new future", "He and Fudge and others Totally different."

Tonks couldn't help laughing.

They walked to the small patio behind the bar. Kingsley took out his wand, counted three pieces from the trash can, and then counted two pieces horizontally, and tapped lightly on the weather-beaten stone.

The walls were motionless.

Kingsley knocked hard, and there was a bang, but no matter how hard he was, it didn't affect the result at all.

"Sealed by a spell." Kingsley frowned, "Mr. Potter, what can you do?"

Harry nodded, raised his wand, pointed it at the wall, took a deep breath, and mobilized his magical power.

He said the incantation solemnly.

"Ahola Hole Open!"

This spell, taught to them in the first grade, surged and washed the wall-it was the wall, and at the same time it was the gateway to Diagon Alley.

There was a dense clicking sound.

The wall began to turn, and the bricks and stones flew up with difficulty, and one by one fell out. The magic spell maintained on the wall tried hard to resist Harry's spell, but it couldn't twist the stronger magic power. A little bit, the door leading to Diagon Alley is opened.

After a while, the crowd burst out from the other side of the wall screaming.

They were all tourists in Diagon Alley. They came out on Christmas Eve to choose gifts for their families and themselves, but no one would have imagined that such a thing would happen.

certainly

At first, it had nothing to do with them, after all, it was a matter of Gringotts.

But when the wall leading to the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley couldn't be opened, they couldn't calm down anymore, which always made them feel that the Death Eaters were trying to deal with them.

Tonks rushed forward to maintain order.

With a flick of his wand, Harry cast a spell on the wall, temporarily immobilizing it.

"Mr Abbott." Harry looked at Tom.

Tom groaned in response.

"Mr. Dumbledore will come later, let him go directly to Gringotts." Harry walked in, while still telling him, "We'll go there first, please trouble you and Tonks .”

He nods.

Gringotts.

In the vault of the Lestrange family.

The dim oil lamp was lit, trying hard to illuminate the entire treasury. The shiny gold Galleons, gems, and gold and silver utensils were randomly scattered aside, and a golden cup was placed in the center.

Hufflepuff's Gold Cup.

A counterfeit of the Holy Grail.

Clear water poured into a cup can turn into fine wine, but at this moment, this cup should only be filled with fine wine, filled with scarlet liquid—not wine, but blood.

Gulu Gulu bubbled flowers.

In the cup, there is a mouth, eating the blood.

The blood line is connected, from the twenty corpses, their steaming blood is flowing continuously, conveying the breath of life to the cup.

Evil, scary.

There is no sense of luxury and beauty in the vault, only a chill that penetrates deep into the bones.

A man sitting in the corner suddenly opened his eyes, and said in an uneasy tone, "The magic on the wall of Diagon Alley was broken, much faster than we expected, and those damn werewolves didn't delay much at all. "

"It's not Dumbledore, it's that Harry Potter."

A curly-haired, crazy-looking woman asked with concern, "How long will it take for the master to be resurrected?"

"It will take at least twenty minutes." Another man replied in a low voice, "I can feel that the master's soul is recovering, but it is not stable enough."