Hogwarts: Harry Returns From The Witcher

Chapter 8 Who is that Youtou Kelp?

On the long table belonging to Gryffindor, there was a burst of applause.

"We've got Potter!"

"We've got Potter!"

The fact that the savior entered school has always attracted the attention of the young wizards at Hogwarts—each of them has a different idea of ​​the savior.

But without exception, Harry shouldn't be what he is now - thin and pitiful, only his aura is different from those cat eyes.

The savior should be somewhat legendary.

Outstanding students in every college have tried to find the inheritance of the Big Four.

Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, Ravenclaw's Diadem, Hufflepuff's Cup...

The Lion House is no exception.

They are most keen to find the legendary Gryffindor sword, but they have never heard of anyone discovering Gryffindor's secret treasure.

until today--

Who would have thought that the sword of Gryffindor was hidden in the sorting hat.

No matter how daring the lion cub is, he would not swim to the principal's office at night to give away his head for nothing.

Harry nodded towards them, expressed his thanks, and walked towards the table with the silver sword in hand.

He was hurriedly stopped by the hat: "That impolite little lion, give me back the sword."

McGonagall chimed in: "Yes, Mr. Potter, the sword of Gryffindor does not belong to you."

"I just borrowed it to look up." Harry didn't change his face, and made up nonsense casually, "Mr. Sorting Hat said that you can only pull it out if you need it, which proves that I need it now."

Professor McGonagall was taken aback.

It seems... that's the reason.

The Sorting Hat chirped twice: "That's just to prove your identity as a Gryffindor, my dear little mister, put it back quickly, it's empty inside, I'm not used to it."

"I can help you find a wooden stick of about the same size." Harry tried to bargain. Blacksmiths in this world are hard to find, and he doesn't want to let go of a master-level weapon that is also excellent in the world of the witcher.

The Sorting Hat wanted to jump up and hit Harry on the head: "Can a stick be the same as a sword? You haven't passed the test yet. This sword doesn't belong to you now."

Harry wanted to struggle a little more.

"Okay, Harry." Headmaster Dumbledore said, he pushed his glasses, his eyes were bright, "Give back the sword to this poor old hat, it's the only old friend it has."

The hat muttered: "Albus, you are my old friend too."

"I still remember the scene when you presided over the branch."

"You still have seven years, which is enough time for you to find a way to truly own this sword." Dumbledore smiled, "Isn't it, a born Mr. Gryffindor?"

From the teacher's seat, there was a louder and more undisguised sneer.

Harry looked over.

The black robe, the oily head, and the kelp hair looked straight at him with disgust in his eyes.

When I looked at myself, the feeling of loathing became even stronger, overflowing almost substantively.

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore glanced at the kelp oil head before he calmed down and moved his head away.

Harry nodded: "Oh, well, for your sake."

He lifted the sorting hat and stabbed the sword into it reluctantly.

The Sorting Hat let out a sigh of relief: "It's much more comfortable now, and you can come to me when you're ready."

Harry turned his head three times and walked to the Gryffindor table.

Professor McGonagall coughed twice: "Okay, the branch continues, the next one...let me see..."

"You're amazing!" Harry was greeted enthusiastically as soon as he took his seat.

Like Ron, the two twin boys with red hair and pockmarked faces winked at Harry: "The sorting ceremony gave such a big limelight."

"We never thought of that!"

"Oh, a born Gryffindor."

"You are the great Lion King."

"Thank you for the compliment." Harry was sour, and everyone around him looked unnatural. Harry's face changed, and his tone was as emotionless as before, "Forget about the Lion King, I'm not interested in that."

"A king never shows his ambition," the twins chorused.

"Unless it's time to ascend the throne."

"Now he's just a lion cub..."

bang.

He slammed his fist down hard.

"Don't play tricks." The same red-haired boy looked more serious than the twins, "They are the most mischievous troublemakers in Hogwarts, so there is no need to listen to their words too much."

"Hi Potter, I'm Percy Weasley, Prefect of Gryffindor."

Harry raised his hand and rubbed his temple: "Okay, Prefect Weasley, I have a question for you."

This "Weasley Prefect" made Percy a little lost.

He raised his head: "Of course, solving problems for juniors is what a prefect should do."

"Who is that oily kelp?" Harry raised his head and looked towards the teacher's bench, just in time to meet Snape's disgusted gaze again.

Oolongheit Kopp?

One of the professors at Hogwarts called this?

He followed Harry's gaze and looked back at Snape as well.

"Youtou kelp!" The eyes of the twins brightened, "What an excellent title."

"You're so talented, Harry, hang out with us."

"We will definitely be able to show off the limelight again and again."

Percy lowered his head and lowered his voice, fearing that it would reach the teacher's seat: "That professor is the head of Slytherin House, responsible for teaching potions, and has always disliked us Gryffindors."

Harry nodded, still looking at Snape.

Ron muttered, "It feels like Professor Snape doesn't like you very much, Harry?"

Snape snorted, looked away first, and started talking with the professor next to him.

"You're right," said Harry, laughing. "He doesn't like me, and resents..."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and touched his face: "I hate my appearance, especially my eyes."

"Oh? How handsome your eyes are." Ron shook his head.

Fred continued: "Yes, the Lion King should have a pair of lion eyes!"

"So, this is also the symbol of the Lion King!" Brother George followed, and chanted, "Your Majesty the Great Lion King, you will be enthroned tonight, sit on the throne!"

Harry took it out of his robe and put a round flask on the table: "If you two want to talk any more, I'll pour this down your throats."

"Potion?"

"Has our lion king already started refining potions to reward his warriors?"

The twins are still playing tricks.

Percy was a good student, and he recognized what kind of potion it was at a glance: "The Potion of Oblivion, Harry, did you try to make it yourself?"

"Well, I tried it before school started, and it went smoothly." Harry nodded.

Fred still wanted to continue playing tricks, and Ron pulled his brother's hair—with a hint of revenge, and began to publicize Harry's victory on the train.

Punch a kid.

Fred and George poked their heads out, looked at Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table from afar, compared their own figures, and calmed down obediently and obediently.

Potion of forgetting is not a good thing.

Harry was about to put away the potion in satisfaction, when the scar on his forehead suddenly felt a prickly pain, he raised his head quickly, and met the eyes of Snape and... the professor next to Snape.

He frowned.

Does the scar hurt?

This is the first time.

For so long in the world of the Witcher, the scar has been safe and sound. Several powerful female sorceresses, such as Yennefer, Triss, and Keira, who is good at alchemy, have checked it for herself. Except for the special shape, there is nothing wrong with it. of special.

So, did something irritate the scar?

Snape?

Malicious gazes can't hurt people, and I didn't feel any magical power attacking me just now.

And he and Snape have looked at each other many times.

Is it the professor next to him?

"Who was the one talking to Professor Snape?" After knowing that Snape was teaching Potions, Harry liked him a little more - even though his eyes were malicious, Vesemir taught him back then. Sometimes, malice can be much greater than mere eyes.

"Professor Quirrell." Percy introduced, "He was a professor of Muggle Studies last year, and he became a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

Harry nodded and smiled slightly: "Oh, he's really interesting."

Percy gave Harry a surprised look.

How interesting is that professor who looks like an Indian with a turban wrapped around his head?

The sorting is over and dinner is over.

Dumbledore stood up and finished the things that should be paid attention to - do not enter the Forbidden Forest, do not cast spells in the corridor, and do not enter the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor.

Conducting the students to sing the school song.

The breath of magic power finally settled, submerged into the body, and was closely connected with this castle.

Percy raised his hand high: "Freshman, come with me, I'll take you to the dormitory."

Harry leaned over: "Prefect Weasley, I have something to leave."

"This way you won't be able to find your way." Another voice from the prefect made Percy's attitude gentle, "You just entered school, what can you do?"

Harry said softly and firmly: "Don't worry, I will find you."

"I have to see Headmaster Dumbledore, and I need to talk to him about something."

Every witcher is a good tracker.

Even the best hounds can't match the witcher for being able to track from east London to west London by scent.

"Oh, Principal Dumbledore." Percy suddenly nodded, and agreed, "Okay, then you remember, the password for the dormitory is Dragon Slag."

"There is a portrait of the fat lady at the door, just read the password to her."

With that in mind, Harry turned his head and chased after Dumbledore.

Beside the old man, there was also Professor Snape, the oil-headed kelp.

"Oh, Harry." Dumbledore looked at him cheerfully, "You don't want to go to the dormitory, come and find me?"

"Yes, I have something I want to talk to you about." Harry nodded, and gave Snape a smile that he thought was kind.

Snape grinned, almost gnashing his teeth.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully: "Well, I also have something I want to talk to you about."

"Severus, do you want to come?"

Snape sneered, Harry was not delusional, he was really gnashing his teeth: "I won't disturb your reunion, Dumbledore, remember, you have to give me an explanation!"

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