It's just a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Chapter 212 Lively
"Do you still remember when we first started last semester, we met that witch in black robe who was looking for Professor Forrest in the auditorium? That's her!"

Silk's attire was very conspicuous in Hogwarts at the beginning. After Harry's reminder, Hermione and Ron only recalled it for a while, and they remembered the figure shrouded in black robes.

"That sister's name is Silk?"

Hermione didn't know what to call her, so she simply called her sister like Harry.

"Professor Forrest introduced her name as Willa Silk. She is very beautiful, prettier than all the girls in Hogwarts, but she seems to be blind, and she is blindfolded with a ribbon."

There was a gossip in Ron's eyes.

"She's Professor Forrest's girlfriend? I haven't heard of any professor in Hogwarts who has a family member!"

Harry shook his head, hesitantly.

"The elder sister said that she and the professor are friends, but friends who are not in that relationship are not clear."

"Even if they haven't reached that kind of relationship, they must be unusual, and they all live together."

"We can see if the professor has brought her when we go to the Quidditch match tomorrow."

"good idea!"

The three of them were chatting about Sherlock's gossip on the sofa, and soon Mrs. Weasley prepared the dinner. The Weasley family already had a lot of people, but now there were two more Harry and Hermione, making it even more lively .

After dinner, they went to bed early, and just after midnight, when it was still dark, Mrs. Weasley shook them awake, ready to go to the Quidditch World Cup venue.

And Sherlock didn't need to be in such a hurry.

He slept until noon, and when he woke up, there was a sound of "ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping" from the kitchen, Sherlock was not surprised by this.

Since Silk failed to cook last time, he has been extremely entangled in this matter, as if if he can't cook, he doesn't deserve to sit at the same table with Sherlock.

Walk into the kitchen every chance you get, with a cookbook floating by your side, figuring out how to cook a creamy soup or keep your eggs from burning.

But as smart as she is, there are also places where she is not good at it.

The innately keen intuition seemed to have disappeared after entering the kitchen. I was completely at a loss as to when to put seasonings, when to turn over, when to use high heat, and when to use low heat.

In the end, Sherlock was required to help her clean up the mess.

"Why do you have to be obsessed with learning to cook? It's fine if you leave this kind of thing to me."

Silk leaned against the wall, pursed his lips, and watched Sherlock deftly directing the kitchen knife to cut the broccoli into small pieces, remembering how he was when he taught himself origami airplanes in the Leaky Cauldron.

"What time do we leave?" She asked softly.

Sherlock glanced at the clock in the living room and estimated the time.

"Let's go after eating, and we still need to set up a tent when we get there, although it won't take long."

"Has your student passed?"

"You mean Harry? They do have to go there very early, after all, they use Portkeys. Our camp is next door to the Weasleys' camp, and I can introduce them to you then, although those children Not really a good baby, but cute, and Mr and Mrs Weasley are nice people too."

Now that Silk has chosen to take root in England, Sherlock doesn't want her to be the same as before, a taciturn person.

After all, you still need to know more friends, and your personality will be cheerful.

They simply settled their lunch, and directly used apparition to come to a desolate swamp.

If there were few people here in normal times, few people would choose to have a picnic here even in broad daylight, but the forest deep in the swamp was very lively at this time.

The guard in front of the entrance was a middle-aged man. There were many wizards walking around. He was obviously a Muggle.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Roberts." Sherlock greeted him.

The Muggle named Roberts glanced at him, his eyes were a little confused, and it took two or three seconds to react after hearing the greeting.

"Oh, yes, good afternoon, sir, you have reserved a tent, right?"

His behavior like this is obviously the aftereffect of being cast with many forgetting spells in a short period of time. Sherlock didn't know that finding a Muggle to sell tents here was the idea of ​​the clever leader of the Ministry of Magic.

"Sherlock Forrest, I have booked two tents for one night."

Roberts stared blankly at Sherlock beside Sherlock for a while. He had never seen such a beautiful girl, much prettier than those stars in the movie, but it was a pity that she was blind.

He shook his head, and when he came back to his senses, he found Sherlock's name on the pre-order posted on the pole.

"Pay now, Mr. Forrester."

Sherlock looked at the bewildered Muggle, took out a few pounds from his pocket and gave it to him.

Just as Roberts was looking for money, there was an astonishing explosion sounded from behind him.

The huge Irish Quidditch team logo, a shamrock pattern suddenly exploded, countless flashing green lights, and shiny things flying everywhere.

Cheers sounded, and several wizards in green robes ran out of the woods, shouting non-stop.

"Ireland must win!"

Behind them, a louder cheer came from the forest shrouded in mist at the same time, mixed with suppressed booing.

Roberts was obviously frightened. He saw those magical animals with green wings, sequins from a distance, but magical fairies in a close look, trembling all over, and their lips were pale.

"Oh my god! I knew this was wrong! This is so weird! This is so weird"

Just as he was yelling, an Auror suddenly descended from the sky, pointed at Roberts with a wand in his hand, and said sharply.

"Forget it all!"

The spell hit Roberts with precision, and he stood there dumbfounded, while five Aurors surrounded the few crazy Irish fans, waving their wands and casting Stunning Charms on them.

The wizards dressed like Peter Pan in green cloaks and green pointed hats fell to the ground one by one, and kept shouting before falling to the ground.

"Ireland must win! Victory belongs to England!"

The Aurors swiftly dealt with these fanatical fans, and the leading captain shouted angrily.

"If you can't be imprisoned in Azkaban, give me a fine! I'll fine them until they lose their fortune! Damn it! They're already busy enough, and these people are going to make more trouble!"

Sherlock and Silk, who were eating melons, looked at each other and smiled knowingly.

Among other things, at least this place is really lively enough.

(End of this chapter)