The Legend of Harry Potter Schoolmaster

"Christopher, why did you hang out with someone like Potter?" Draco Malfoy walked up to Jon, and asked in a somewhat reproachful tone.

"Potter... isn't that Harry Potter?" Jon didn't seem to notice the strangeness on Malfoy's face at all, but put on an excited expression: "It is said that the one who defeated the mysterious man in the legend, survived a catastrophe boy..."

"...I've heard his name in Durmstrang, last year's Triwizard Tournament, he even..." Jon blinked suddenly, and looked at Malfoy suspiciously: "What's the matter, Demstrang?" Raco?"

Draco Malfoy glanced at Jon as if looking at a fool.

He waved his hand, motioned for Jon to follow, and then led Jon to a corner with no one in the corridor on the sixth floor.

"That's already in the past tense!" Malfoy glanced around vigilantly, lowered his voice, and said, "Now, times have changed!"

"That... Draco... I don't quite understand..." Jon put on a puzzled expression.

"Of course, you haven't been in England for a few days." Malfoy asked back, "I don't think you have the habit of reading the Daily Prophet?"

"No, I have." Jon shook his head: "But I usually only look at the headlines of the "Daily Prophet."

"That's right!" Malfoy had a smirk on his face: "If you look carefully at the daily "Daily Prophet", especially some of the small pages, you will understand what's going on..."

"Can you explain..." Jon asked tentatively.

"All in all, Potter and Dumbledore have fallen off the altar... This is the best news for us!" Malfoy said with a serious face.

"I still don't quite understand..." Jon still shook his head in confusion.

"You just need to remember to stay away from Potter and his friends!" Malfoy reminded softly, "Sooner or later, I will be liquidated...and we will become the rulers of this world." !"

Malfoy's voice almost got lower and lower, and finally he almost reached Jon's ear: "There are some things that are inconvenient to say in Hogwarts. When I went to Hogsmeade for the first time in early October, I was in three Just a broom, we will have a party, and I will invite you to come with me at that time..."

"Party?" Jon continued to ask curiously.

"A party that belongs only to our own people!" Malfoy patted Jon on the shoulder: "Avery and they don't trust you very much...but I think I will convince them that foreign friends like you are obviously Very good development object...”

After speaking, Malfoy nodded to Jon mysteriously, and then walked down the stairs alone.

Jon only felt that what he heard was stunned.

But he still guessed what Draco Malfoy meant—

Myself, are you really going to break into the enemy this time?

...

On the other side, with a decadent pace, Harry Potter walked up to the eighth floor and returned to the Gryffindor common room.

But at the door of the common room, he saw Ron Weasley wandering around with a broom.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked curiously.

Ron's face turned red immediately: "I'm going to try... I'm going to try to participate in the Gryffindor Quidditch team's goalkeeper selection!"

"This idea is great! It would be great if you can enter the team!" Harry shouted a little excitedly: "By the way, Ron, how about your goalkeeping skills?"

"It's okay..." Ron subconsciously changed the topic: "How about the confinement at Umbridge? What did she tell you to do?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, then said, "Write sentences."

"That's not too bad, is it?" said Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry.

The two walked into the common room together.

Hermione Granger also returned to the Gryffindor common room, she was waiting for them here... At the same time, she keenly noticed the abnormality on Harry's hand: "Harry, what's wrong with your hand ?”

"It's just a scratch..." Harry subconsciously hid his hands back.

But Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and pulled the back of Harry's hand to her eyes. She stared blankly at the blood-red line carved into her skin... "I must not lie."

"That old hag!" Hermione cursed tremblingly, "She's not normal! Harry, go talk to McGonagall about this situation!"

"I don't know if Professor McGonagall is capable of controlling her..." Harry shook his head.

"Dumbledore, then tell Dumbledore!"

"No." Harry said flatly.

"Why not?" Hermione asked puzzled.

"He has too many things to think about." Harry made a random excuse.

Honestly stayed at number four Privet Drive for several months, unable to understand what happened outside... This made Harry feel a little resentment towards Dumbledore from the bottom of his heart.

So he didn't want to tell Dumbledore about it.

"Then..." Hermione hesitated for a moment, then she suggested, "Write Sirius a letter, Harry!"

"what?"

"Sirius has the right to know the truth...and we have to ask him where Hagrid has gone and when he's coming back; and we don't know if this Umbridge is a Death Eater, or used by You-Know-Who The Imperius Curse!" Hermione said quickly.

Harry thought about it carefully, and finally nodded.

...

In more cryptic terms, Harry wrote a letter to his godfather, Sirius Black.

After all, Moody had told them to be careful when writing letters, and they couldn't guarantee if the owl was cut off.

In the letter, he told Sirius what had happened to him in Umbridge's office, and asked when he would see Hagrid again.

After writing this letter, I tied it at Hedwig's feet...

Looking at the back of the owl flying away, Harry suddenly thought of a sentence he heard a few hours ago——

"I saw you writing a letter...telling one of your elders about your injury."

Elders... Wait, it seems that Aunt Petunia is not the only one among her elders. and also……

My godfather, Sirius Black!

This also means... Patrick's prediction is actually correct.

Harry's hand trembled suddenly.

"What's the matter, does it still hurt?" Hermione on the side was taking out a bottle of white cream, and carefully applied the white cream on the wound on Harry's hand... She thought it was her rough movement that caused the pain Harry quickly stopped his hands.

"...No, nothing!" Harry smiled pretending to be calm.

His back was soaked with sweat.