Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

"dong dong"

Lupin is preparing for the next lesson in the office, and the desk is full of books, most of which are large-scale datasets with three fingers.

Suddenly, two light knocks came from outside the door.

"Who?" he asked, raising his head.

"Good evening, Professor Lupin! I am Marx · McLorne."

Lupin snorted and snorted.

To be honest, he doesn't know how to deal with this particular student.

When Dumbledore invited him to teach at Hogwarts, he had a general understanding of the students he was going to contact - this after all is a rare serious work.

You know, it is too difficult for a werewolf to find a suitable job. For this reason, he is not lacking in talent, but he has been living in poverty and stigma.

Lupin cherished the job.

Marx, the child, made him a little helpless.

To say that Marx is just an ordinary genius, Lupin does not have any concerns. It is better to say that he is too happy to be too late!

But what the student has shown is not only explained by the word "genius".

It can be said that Lupin has begun to worry about whether he can hide his husband's identity in front of this child. If it is discovered... Oh, this is really unbelievable!

He really didn't want to see the frightening faces of the lovely children who knew their identity.

The kind of look that looks like a monster, and the pure face of the children really do not match - he never wants to see the second time.

And, if you change to Marx...

"The child might have drawn the wand with the slightest hesitation and made a nap on my face - he did that to the dementor." Lupin couldn't help but smile.

"...well, please come in."

He stunned and eventually ended up complimenting.

The door was opened, and the child's face was still in a calm look, as if no matter what happened, it would not be too surprising. It is hard to imagine that it was a childish face.

"Good evening, Professor Lupin." Marx squeezed a smile, but he didn't know that his smile seemed to be infiltrating, not as good as laughing.

"Good evening, come to me so late, is there anything?" Lupin also laughed and asked.

"Oh, yes, I am here to give you something."

Marx said, he smashed the potion bottle with the wolfbane potion and gently placed it on top of the pile of books on Lupin's desk—there was no extra space on the table, he could only do so.

But Lupin looked at the little potion bottle and his face smiled stiff.

"Oh, oh... is Professor Snape asking you to send it to me?" Lupin said dryly. "Thank you, trouble you."

"Yes, that's right," Marx nodded. "The potion will be sent to you by me every month."

"Damn slug!" Lupin couldn't help but darkly cursed, but his face had to maintain an embarrassing smile.

"Oh-thank you! But I think this may not be appropriate, I will be with Snot... I mean, Professor Snape, I will let him send it myself, without bothering you."

“No trouble,” Marx spread his hand. “In fact, the professor, every month’s wolfbane potion is made by me. It doesn’t take much time to send it...”

When Marx’s words were not finished, Lupin’s face was completely dead.

"Oh-cough cough, last month... is it?" Lupin showed a complex expression and shouted.

“Yes,” Marx nodded said. “Reassured, professor... I will keep this secret for you, don’t worry.”

Lupin subconsciously nodded, then immediately shook his head.

"Thank you...but...what about you?" he couldn't help but ask, "You have nothing to do with this... Any other thoughts?"

"What else?" Marx repeated his words and immediately understood what he meant.

"Oh, this is nothing," he shrugged. "Let me see, the change in bloodline is even a manifestation of an advantage, like Merlin - he has studied the bloodline transformation of the wizard, which is very interesting. Magic research."

"But..." Lupin opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say. "Well, okay... thank you."

“Let's relax, Professor.” Marx said, “Your course is very good. Everyone likes it. I believe that even if things are exposed, at least among most students, their impression of the professor will not change much. ”

"I hope..." Lupin sighed, then shook his head decisively. "No, it's better not to expose it."

"So, I will go back to the common room first, Professor Goodnight."

"Good night, Mr. McLorne--" Lupin watched Marx calmly leave his office. When the door closed, he couldn't help but add, "And... thank you."

……

Recently, Harry has been training Quiddich – three times a week, and not less.

The weather is getting colder and colder, and the night is darker. But no matter how much mud, wind or rain, it can't shake Harry's good foresight: their team will eventually win the huge Quiddich silver cup.

"This is our last chance to win the Quiddich Cup - my last chance," Gryffindor's Captain Oliver Wood said to his teammates, striding around in front of them. "I will leave at the end of the year." The school is... I can't play here anymore."

"Up to now, Gryffindor hasn't won in seven years. Well, we used to be bad luck - we were hurt - and then canceled the tournament last year..." Wood swallowed, as if this memory still made him If you are in the throat, "but we also know that we have the title of the school - the best - the team!"

He said that he made a fist in one hand and knocked on the other hand, and the eyes of the old ray of light flashed in his eyes.

"We have three best chasers."

Wood points to Alicia Pinnett, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell.

"We have two invincible Beaters."

"Don't say Oliver, you made us embarrassed." Fred and George, the two weird Weasley brothers, said they pretended to be blushing.

"We still have a Seeker, he can always win the game!" Wood said lowly, staring at Harry with a fury and proud look.

"And me." He added, as the content of the aftermath.

"We think you are also very good, Oliver," George said.

"Excellent Keeper," Fred said.

“The point is,” Wood continued, and strode around again. “There is still no Marx McLorne this year! Yes! No Marx · McLorne!”

"Oh - don't mention that slashing the madness, don't mention him--" Fred and George said in unison.

Other team members are also a lingering appearance.

It can be said that in the last semester, Marx's performance in the stadium dominated the audience, which really lost the confidence of the team members of the other three houses.

It seems that as long as there is that guy, the Quiddich Silver Cup is impossible to move. The title of "Cut the Devil" has been spread from various colleges since then.

"Oliver, this year is our year! No McLorne!" Fred said.

"We will win, Oliver! No McLorne!" Angelina said.

"Yes." Harry also said weakly, "Well, no Ma - I mean, no McLorne --"

One night, the night had quietly arrived, and Harry ended the hard training of the day.

He is heading to Gryffindor's common room, he feels cold and stiff, but he is still very happy with the practice.

When Harry got through the hole behind the portrait of Fat Lady, he found that people in the common room were talking about something, and they were very excited.

“What happened?” he asked Ron and Hermione.

The two men sat in the best two seats next to the fireplace and were comparing several astrological pictures in the astronomy class.

“The first Hogsmeade weekend,” Ron pointed to a notice on the old bulletin board, “At the end of October, Halloween.”

“Great,” Fred said, as he followed Harry into the hole in the portrait. “I have to go to the Zoco store and my stink bomb is gone.”

Harry sat down on a chair next to Ron, his exuberant emotions faded, and Hermione seemed to see through his mind.

"Harry, I dare say you can go next time," she said. "They will definitely catch Black soon - people have seen him somewhere."

"Black won't be stupid to that extent, he won't think about what to do at Hogsmeade," Ron said. "Ask Professor McGonagall, can you go this time, Harry. The next time I don't know when to wait - ”

“Ron!” Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Harry should stay in school—”

"He can't be the only Third Year student to stay in school," Ron argued. "Go ask McGonagall, go, Harry-"

"Yes, I think I will ask." Harry seemed determined.

Hermione wanted to say something, but then her cat, Crookshanks, jumped briskly to her lap with a big dead spider in her mouth.

“Does it have to eat in front of us?” Ron growled.

"Clever Crookshanks, are you catching it yourself?" Hermione simply ignored Ron, who shouted.

She looked down and looked at Crookshanks softly, as if she thought it would be cute even with spiders.

Crookshanks slowly chewed the spider, his yellow eyes staring at Ron.

"Just let it stay there, please." Ron gas hu hu said, and went to get the star map again, "Scabbers sleep in my bag!"