As ti passed, Ernie Macmillan and Justin returned together, undoubtedly both having failed.
The two remained silent for a mont. Ernie asked him, "Do you want to try again?" Justin shook his head and found a spot to sit down casually, saying, "Let take a mont." He sounded sowhat incredulous, "How did Potter manage to do it?"
They both turned their heads, catching a glimpse of Harry disappearing again. A sense of admiration welled up within them. When he failed for the second, third ti, Slytherins jeered, even the Gryffindor students felt a bit embarrassed. But when he failed the ninth, tenth ti, no one mocked him anymore.
Harry's two friends, Hermione and Ron, also attempted once, sitting askew to the side.
Justin hesitated, "Ernie, there's sothing I want to ask you about."
"What's that?" Ernie replied casually.
"It's not about the selection, it's about sothing at my ho... during the sumr, soone gave my parents an antique vase. I feel sothing's odd about it..."
Ernie mumbled, "Could it be enchanted?"
"Is that a possibility?" Justin asked nervously.
"How should I know? I've never even seen one." Ernie rolled his eyes, "But I do know who you can ask for help."
"Who?"
"Of course, it's Professor Harp. He's the best at studying these magical items."
"Right," Justin imdiately agreed, "Ernie, you're right. I'll have my parents send the thing over"
"The thing is just sitting at your house?" Ernie's eyes widened, making him look like a bull.
"Uh, yeah." Justin said embarrassedly, seeing Ernie's eyes widening again, he quickly added, "But the antique is in a cabinet, and no one usually touches it."
Ernie pondered for a mont, "In that case, I suggest you not send a letter ho. Co on, let's go find Professor Harp."
"Now?" Justin asked, surprised.
"Of course! What are you thinking? What if there's a curse on it?" Ernie couldn't help but shout, his face turning red with excitent.
With Ernie's words, Justin couldn't sit still anymore. "Let's go find Professor Harp right away!"
As Justin and Ernie Macmillan hurriedly separated from the crowd and passed a small group of Slytherin students, they accidentally stepped on Pansy Parkinson's foot. She was conversing with a sulking Draco Malfoy.
"Ouch!" Pansy exclaid in pain.
"Ah! Sorry" Justin apologized apologetically, Pansy glared at him, about to make a sarcastic remark, but Justin was pulled away by Ernie, "Hurry, the professors left a while ago."
Pansy raised her arm and scread, "Draco, look at them the Macmillan family has fallen, just like those Muggles with no manners. I should advise my dad to write to his family and keep them away from those stinky"
"Sister, do you think she looks like a fox with manic tendencies?" a delicately featured girl asked.
"Don't talk nonsense, Astoria." Daphne held her younger sister's hand tightly, pinching it firmly, yet a hint of a smile played around her lips. She nodded toward Pansy, gesturing for Astoria not to let her hear.
Pansy truly didn't hear it. She was relaying her grandfather's words, "Hufflepuffs are all a bunch of geese, foolish and clueless. That's why most of them don't do well." Draco grew impatient listening, he turned his head to look in Astoria's direction.
Astoria jumped in surprise and nervously leaned in to whisper to Daphne, "Hemighthaveheardus." She stared at Draco Malfoy for a while, realizing he didn't seem to grasp the aning of "fox face", finally she breathed a sigh of relief.
Not long after, she grew restless again
"Can I let out the little snake?"
"Oh, no, you can't." her elder sister replied sternly, earning her an eye roll.
Outside Classroom 7.
Several professors gathered in the staff lounge. Felix brought out tea leaves, Flitwick retrieved so teacups from an old cabinet, Professor Sprout took out so black petals, adding them to the tea. They all sipped tea and chatted contentedly.
However, Snape left early, citing another batch of potions that needed attention. Though Moody stayed behind, he declined the tea and chat session.
"Felix, what's your plan?" Flitwick asked.
"At the mont, I have mories from several professors. I can use them to design so dangerous scenarios to help them practice reaction skills, crisis managent, and combat skills, based on their individual traits. That's what I've co up with so far."
"We can only do that," Flitwick nodded. "No one knows what the tasks in the Triwizard Tournant will be, or what the specific rules are."
Felix nodded slightly, agreeing with his words. He knew the first task was likely about dragons, but the exact rules were uncertain. It could be enduring a certain amount of ti under dragon attacks, or maybe taking sothing from the dragon's body. Judging by Charlie's previous words and considering that the Ministry of Magic selected nesting mother dragons, the latter possibility seed more likely.
Moody gruffly added, "I'm not an expert in mory-related things, but in my opinion, real skills can only be honed in real situations. The fake ones are just that, fake. It would be better to lead these students to so truly dangerous places and train them properly."
Flitwick nervously responded, "That's not suitable, Alastor. We can't take students out of the school..."
"What's not suitable about it? This generation hasn't experienced a war, they're pampered and spoiled. Can we really expect them to calmly face the tasks of the Triwizard Tournant?" Moody disdainfully spat, then continued, "If it were my Aurors, I'd definitely train them rigorously, take them to capture Dark Wizards several tis. Not many, just three or five tis, and they'll be reborn."
Flitwick said anxiously, "They're just students, not the Aurors under your command."
"But they're facing challenges even more dangerous than those Aurors normally encounter!" Moody roared.
"No, absolutely not... Professor McGonagall won't agree to it, and Dumbledore won't either..." Flitwick muttered.
Felix poured himself a cup of tea and leaned back in his chair, gazing at the amber liquid in the cup. Slowly, he said, "Taking the students out of the school is probably not feasible now, especially deliberately leading them into dangerous places. Professor Moody, your teaching thods have always been controversial..."
"The Unforgivable Curses?" Moody grinned, a cold smirk on his face, the magical eye continuously shifting. "They should consider themselves lucky to first encounter those curses in my classroom."
And not on a battlefield...
This was the unspoken aning in his words, understood by the other three professors present.
Moody was a hardcore proponent of tough teaching, advocating for a savage approach. In his plan, he intended to teach students spells, making them experience the effects of each dark curse firsthand, which naturally included the three Unforgivable Curses.
Of course, he chose the Imperius Curse. The other two were too dangerous, even Moody didn't dare to use them on students.
This outrageous teaching plan was t with unanimous opposition from Flitwick and Sprout. The tea gathering dispersed on a sour note. Flitwick tiptoed in the direction of the Headmaster's office, apparently intending to persuade his friend Dumbledore.
When only Felix and Moody were left, Felix checked the ti and asked, "Do you want to go check? I reckon a few students might have received invitations, assuming they've discovered they can try multiple tis."
Moody thought for a mont, "Forget it! I won't join in the crowd. Didn't you ntion in the eting that the selection will continue throughout the weekend? Just give a list by Monday, so I know who's participating in the training."
With so effort, he shifted his cloak to one side, making room for his wooden leg to stand. Then, a hand with nurous scars, rough and worn, grabbed the cane, exerting force to lift him up.
"Arthur said you're quite daring. I thought you would understand my approach," Moody said quietly.
He limped away.
Felix sat alone in the staff lounge, lost in thought. After an unknown amount of ti, a knock sounded, and the tall and robust figure of Ernie Macmillan burst in.
"Mr. Macmillan, do you need sothing?" Felix asked calmly.
"Professor Moody told you're here. Oh, um..." Ernie's confidence faltered as he pulled Justin out from behind him. "Professor Harp, this is Justin. He has sothing important to discuss with you..."
A few minutes later, Felix grasped the situation, "So, you suspect there's an antique in your house that might have been enchanted, particularly cursed?"
"That's right, Professor." Justin nodded quickly.
"I see..." Felix fell into thought. He inquired, "Mr. Finch-Fletchley, please extend your hand to ."
"What? Oh" Justin looked at the professor's outstretched hand. Though he couldn't quite comprehend, he complied.
Their hands t.
"Imagine what the object looks like," Felix said.
Justin began to recall. He had a strong impression of the antique, having examined it closely due to his suspicion. Now, rembering it was effortless.
Under the gaze of three pairs of eyes, a blue vase materialized in the air. It seed like a fusion of a goblet and a slender-necked bottle, with a layer of blue enal painted on the body. It was adorned with lapis lazuli and had two harp-shaped arching handles at the top, a silver chain trailing from the handles, hanging near the smooth, polished silver base.
"A piece of silver craftsmanship. In other words, a silverware?" Felix chuckled softly. "Does it not accumulate dust easily?"
Justin's eyes lit up, "The person who gave the gift told my father the sa thing. They said it was made using an ancient and unique technique, very rare..."
Ernie Macmillan couldn't help but interject, "But that's clearly a characteristic of fairy-made objects! You didn't tell that before, otherwise I would've noticed right away!"
"But I'm not very knowledgeable about this," Justin argued.
"Justin," Felix interrupted their conversation, "Is there soone at your house right now?"
"They're usually very busy and won't be back until late. Even on weekends." Justin added.
"Alright then, I'll accompany you tonight to visit your parents." Felix said, standing up and swishing his wand, causing the tea to disappear and the cups to clean themselves before flying back into the cupboard.
"Let's go back and take a look. I wonder how many people have received the invitations?" Justin quickly said, "Before I ca out, three people had. Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff, Roger Davies from Ravenclaw, and Collins Flint from Slytherin."
...
"Kill now, I won't go," Ron's face turned pale, as if he had fallen seriously ill. "You can't imagine what it feels like to be inundated by swarms of spiders the size of fingernails. Countless legs wriggling all over you, crawling into your mouth, ears, and nose... damn it, I actually find Aragog that Hagrid keeps in a cage easier on the eyes now."
Hermione sat with her knees drawn up, not saying a word. Gradually regaining her composure, she hesitated for a while before saying in a low voice, "I found a shortcut, maybe it'll get an invitation, but I don't know if it's considered cheating..."
"What did you say?" Ron stared at her.
Out of the corner of his eye, the black suspended gate swung open slowly, and Harry erged, holding a golden card in his hand.
>
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