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

Chapter 34 The Unlucky Harry

October is here.

The weather is getting colder.

It has been raining heavily for the past two days, making the entire castle drenched. At the same time, the change in temperature has made many little wizards sick.

At this time, a warm fire was already lit in Sherlock's office, and he was not the only one staying in his office today.

There is also Harry, who was specially punished by Professor McGonagall to work here because of using the flying car at the beginning of school.

Harry's days of being punished by Sherlock were actually pretty good.

As long as he is assigned to copy the questions of previous years' OWLs Defense Against the Dark Arts exams on the parchment, copy enough for three years, and then he can leave.

Compared with Ron being punished to wipe Filch's trophy in the cold trophy room, Harry didn't even feel that this was a punishment.

Sherlock's office also has snacks for him to enjoy, which is not as comfortable as in the Gryffindor common room.

After writing the last letter, Harry put down the quill in his hand, stretched his sore wrist, and handed the results of his busy morning to Sherlock for inspection.

"The handwriting is good. If you are not in a state of punishment, maybe I will give Gryffindor a few points for this."

Sherlock took a brief look at the topics that Harry had copied, and then gave a faint compliment.

While he was talking, Harry secretly took a milk taffy from the snack tray on the table and stuffed it into his mouth, saying vaguely.

"Then can you go now? Call the beast, Wood and the others are still waiting for you to go to Quidditch training."

Sherlock turned his head to look at the rain that was still pouring down outside the window, and asked.

"Do you want to train in this weather?"

"Malfoy's father replaced the latest broom for the Slytherin team. Wood is very nervous now. Our equipment is not as good as theirs. We can only work more on tactics and skills."

Harry chewed the toffee hard and swallowed it, and the voice of his answer became clearer.

Sherlock waved his hand to indicate that he could do whatever he wanted.

"Go, I will tell Professor McGonagall that your punishment has been completed, be careful on the court, and wish you good luck today."

Harry jumped out of his chair excitedly and bowed to Sherlock.

"Thank you, Professor Forrest."

Then he briskly ran out of the office, not forgetting to close the door carefully before leaving.

Sherlock could only slightly shake his head facing the cloudy sky outside the window, exclaimed, "It's nice to be young", and then continued to bend down and write the exam materials for senior grades.

Harry braved the rain and came to the stadium, and Wood led the other team members to wait for him here.

"Hey, Professor Forrest, he didn't give you a hard time, did he, Harry."

Seeing him approach the pitch, the Weasley twins swooped down from the sky on their broomsticks and landed in front of Harry.

Harry was getting on his broom, speaking relaxedly as he lifted into the air.

"No, Professor Forrest just asked me to help him copy the title, Ron will be miserable, he"

Before he could finish his sentence, suddenly a black iron ball flapped its small wings and rushed towards Harry, hitting him directly in the abdomen!
The huge force generated by the impact of the Bludger made Harry fly off the broomstick on the spot!

Then it fell to the ground in the rain like a kite with a broken string.

"Harry!"

Seeing this scene, the other Gryffindor players on the field all exclaimed.

Captain Wood, suitor Katie, Angelia and Alicia came to Harry's side on broomsticks.

Harry was staggering up from the grass right now, his body was covered in mud, and he retched while clutching his stomach.

"George! Fred! Keep an eye on your Bludgers! Fortunately, Harry didn't fly high enough, otherwise he would have been lying in the school hospital for at least half a month!"

Wood angrily taught the two Weasley brothers.

They were batters in the team, and they wanted to keep an eye on the Bludger and prevent it from attacking their teammates. As a result, they came down to greet Harry just now, and no one cares about the Bludger.

George and Fred smiled and apologized to Harry. Harry, who had recovered his breath, waved his hand to show that he didn't care, and then got back on the broomstick.

"Would you like to visit Madam Pomfrey, Harry?" George wanted to make up for his mistakes as much as possible.

Harry shook his head pale as he re-launched on his broomstick.

"It's okay, I'm fine now and I can continue training."

However, in fact, his performance in training afterwards did not confirm what he said.

The Gryffindor players practiced on the court from noon until it was almost dark in the evening. Chasers like Alia had already scored more than 30 Quaffles, but Harry still didn't see the shadow of the Golden Snitch .

It took less than an hour for the usual training to start, not to mention catching it, at least Harry had already spotted the Snitch, but up to now he was still wandering in the sky, not even seeing the slightest bit of gold.

Wood also saw that Harry was obviously out of shape, so he announced the end of today's training in disappointment before dark, and everyone went back to rest.

Harry put the broom back into the broom shed, clutched his stomach and walked gloomyly towards the castle.

He didn't know what happened this afternoon, anyway, after walking out of Sherlock's office, he was in various states of absence.

Dragging his wet, mud-stained robes into the castle, Harry had barely had time to wipe the rain off his face when a rash figure knocked him to the ground.

"Ouch!"

Harry let out a cry of pain, then looked at the back of the one running up the stairs as if fleeing, and complained.

"Be careful Neville! There's no Snape chasing you."

Before he had just stood up, the Gryffindor ghost who was wandering around the castle—Nick, who was almost headless, passed by here.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Nick."

Nick seemed to be worried about something, but he still reminded Harry.

"You'd better leave quickly. Filch is in the corridor not far away. He has a cold and is in a bad mood. He will definitely punish you if he sees you dirty the floor."

Harry had seen Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, appearing around the corner of the corridor with two yellow eyes like little lanterns.

"You're right, I have to go now," said Harry.

He stepped back from Mrs. Norris' condemning gaze, but it was too late.

There seems to be some kind of mysterious power connection between Filch and his annoying cat.

He suddenly rushed from behind a tapestry to Harry's right, with a long scarf around his neck, his nose was unnaturally red, his eyes were horribly bulging, and the flesh on his double chin quivered.

"Dirty! I'm so fed up with Potter! Dirty everywhere! Mess everywhere! You have to come with me!"

With a dejected look on Harry's face, he followed Filch dejectedly, muttering softly.

"Today is really unlucky."

Suddenly a rustling voice rang in Harry's ear.

".starved.long long time.kill them.eat"

(End of this chapter)