[HP] Being a problem student at Hogwarts

The students were still talking about the farce during lunch, but the afternoon divination class continued like a duck.

"I thought... I had to suspend school for at least one day, didn't I?" Ron said with some disappointment.

Hermione looked worried. "Umbridge's dominance may have just begun," she said distractedly.

"How could it be worse?" Harry couldn't imagine it. "Banning all societies, driving out a professor, and dictating to Dumbledore... God, she is a she-devil!"

"Look at her face just now. She hates half-humans and we didn't know it until today." Hermione said impatiently, "I'm going to arithmetic, do you still want notes?" she asked Tom.

"Thank you." Although the Dark Lord's soul fragment is still in his memory, it would be nice to see what the differences are over the years.

They were all familiar with the new divination classroom. It was still in classroom No. 11 on the first floor, the same classroom where Firenze gave them the astronomy class before.

They opened the door and stepped on the soft moss on the ground into the woods. The branches with lush leaves swayed gently with the breeze blowing from the window, and the soft sunlight filtered by the green leaves filled the whole house. The handsome centaur professor was still standing in the forest clearing with a calm face, waiting for their arrival.

“Lie on the floor,” Firenze’s opening line always begins, “and watch the sky.”

He walked slowly among the lying students, his beautiful tail swaying back and forth.

"For those who can read the stars, the destinies of our various nations have been depicted there," he said. "In previous astronomy classes, we have learned the names of these planets and their satellites, and we have also drawn The movement of stars in the sky. I hope you all still remember it?" There was a low voice in the classroom.

Firenze continued: "Centaurs have spent centuries unraveling the secrets of these movements. Our findings tell us that from the skies above us, we may be able to glimpse the future - "

"Professor Trelawney taught us astrology!" Parvati said excitedly, raising a hand in front of her chest - she was lying on the ground so that the hand stood in the air, "Mars can cause accidents. Accidents, burns, that kind of thing, when it's at an angle to Saturn, like this—" she gestured at a right angle in the air, "—it means people have to be extra careful when handling hot things—"

"Those," Firenze paused, but chose to tell the truth, "are human beings talking nonsense."

Parvati was a little angry, but after looking sideways at the centaur's plump and shiny muscles, she didn't say anything to refute, and just lowered her hands listlessly.

"Insignificant injuries, trivial human accidents," Firenze said melancholy, scratching his hooves. "Compared to the vast universe, these things are as insignificant as crawling ants and are not affected by the movement of the planets. .”

"I don't agree with what humans call fortune telling. What I want to explain here is the objective and fair view of the horse people. We observe the sky and pay attention to important trends in disasters or changes. Sometimes these trends are marked in the sky - —Of course, you may disagree with the Centaur's perspective. Only time will tell who sees it correctly."

"Professor Trelawney——" some students began to retort.

"—is a member of the human race," Firenze said succinctly, "and is therefore blinded and bound by the flaws of your species."

This is too rude to say. When he was teaching Professor Sinistra's astronomy class, he was not so offensive. Tom couldn't help but think of Draco saying that Trelawney's family drew strength from "unbelief"... So, as the favored ones of fate, are the centaurs most susceptible to the influence of this kind of power?

Firenze ignored the whispers of the students and pointed to the red star directly above Harry.

"Over the past ten years, there have been various signs that the wizarding world is just living through a brief period of peace between two wars. The spark that can bring war shines brightly above our heads, suggesting that it will definitely not be long before The battle will break out again. As for how long it will take, the centaurs may be able to try to predict it by burning several herbs and leaves and observing the smoke and flames..."

“Then you can give it a try,” Firenze said. “Light the sage and mallow and look at the smoke and pick out certain shapes and signs—trust your instincts.”

"On the floor?" Harry asked in disbelief, looking at the soft moss ground, "Won't it catch on fire?"

Firenze's eyes fell on his face, and then slowly moved to the wand in his hand.

He said nothing, but Harry's face flushed rapidly.

No student could see the signs he described in the choking smoke, but Firenze was calm about it. He told them that humans had never been very good at doing this kind of thing, and that even centaurs had only acquired this ability after a long time. Finally he told them that even centaurs sometimes misjudged things anyway, so it would be foolish to put too much faith in such things.

"So what's the point of learning this?" Ron muttered. "To master the magic of starting and extinguishing fires?"

"Just think of it as preparing for the exam." Tom's magic mist didn't let the black smoke get close to him at all, so he just sat and stared at the smoke in a daze.

"Forget it," Harry said worriedly, "It's easy to deal with Trelawney, just make up some bad luck, but what about the ordinary wizard level exam when the time comes?"

Tom shrugged. His career goal is that a diploma is probably of little use, so he doesn't take it to heart very much.

He didn't go to the next Defense Against the Dark Arts as usual. After saying goodbye to his friends, he started climbing the stairs to go to the principal's office.

He was actually a little unsure whether today's class would continue. After all, after breaking up with Umbridge in public, Dumbledore might have some arrangements to make next. But since he didn't receive a note about the suspension of classes, of course it would be best to go.

The stone monster at the door of the principal's office jumped away when he saw him. Tom said thank you and was still thinking about what he would learn today while standing on the elevator stairs. Suddenly his spiritual sense stirred, and he looked up and saw the wooden door of the principal's office suddenly opened, and more than a dozen magic spells of different colors flew down!

The angle at which those magic spells were shot was very tricky, intersecting and blocking all the hiding spaces in the front, and the passage was narrow. It was not something that could be solved by his magic mist turning into tentacles and hanging him on the wall.

It was too late and he didn't have time to think about it. Part of the magic mist gathered in front of him. He jumped up from the stairs, using the rising wooden stairs as a second shield. The other part of the mist was laid underneath to prevent the danger. He jumped and broke his neck——

When he fell into the mist, those curses unceremoniously blew up the entire staircase. The flying sharp wooden pieces roared and splashed in the entire narrow passage, and there were also large pieces of stairs carrying The heavy sound of wind crashed down——

Tom pounced into the mist and turned into the mist body on the spot, and then he narrowly escaped from the small gap.

The dust hadn't settled yet, but fortunately the fatal crisis had passed. Only then did he feel his heart beating faster. He looked up again and saw the old devil's downcast face.

The face is old and cold, and every wrinkle carries a sense of loneliness and indifference. It seems to be carved from an indestructible rock. It is not a real person, but more like an ancient object brought back from the Dead Jedi. But as long as you look at those strange eyes With his eyes, he could feel the huge sense of oppression contained in it, and knew that this was actually a living person.

Grindelwald looked down at him and said, "Come up."

The stairs were blown up... Tom complained in his mind, but didn't say it out loud. He rode the fog up honestly - he rose slowly and cautiously, and didn't even turn back into a human body - after all, he was not the head. Once class started, he didn't believe that Grindelwald would let him go up so easily.

Sure enough, he was only halfway up when he saw Grindelwald raise his hand, and more curses than before were crisscrossed and shot down!

The mist dispersed into strands, and he tried his old trick to get out of the gap - Grindelwald waved his wand, and a sudden strong wind blew violently, and the mist was blown into chaos unexpectedly, although Tom came down the next moment. He regained control of the direction in an instant, but he still encountered several curses. He didn't know what those magic spells were, but Tom only felt a burning pain where he was scratched - if it weren't for the Mist Body, he suspected that he would have been cut all over with blood.

He gritted his teeth and continued to rise. When he was only a palm away, Grindelwald finally released the third wave of curses.

This time, part of the mist came out of the gap, part of it rushed forward and began to devour him, and part of it pushed Grindelwald back unceremoniously, even clinging to him and pointing his wand at him. the teeth of--

Gloomy blue flames ignited from Grindelwald's body, and the old hands easily tore off the entangled flames and mist and threw them aside.

More mist coalesced back together, then dispersed again, revealing Tom sitting on the carpet, panting.

"You're too shady." He complained, rolling up his sleeves and looking at the bruises on his arms. It was obvious that the areas where he had been slapped were swollen. Just as he expected, the principal was not in the office at all, otherwise Grindelwald would have blown up the stairs so easily.

"You must pay attention to it in the next life." The old devil replied, "What are your other thoughts?"

"Mist is not a panacea. I knew this when I was beaten out for the first time. But I always feel that I can continue to explore this aspect."

"Remember to invite me to visit when you turn into a magical creature."

Tom made a gesture of surrender and continued: "Last time you said that you need to maintain a combat distance or increase magic power output, so fighting in such a small space is actually my shortcoming?"

Grindelwald looked impatient.

"First," he said patiently, stroking his fingers on the wand, "you can blast out a combat space. The more irregular and complex the environment, the easier it is for you to dodge and use your fog's strengths. .”

Explode? Tom smiled awkwardly. It's not that you can't come, but for things like bombing the school... you have to look at the principal's face, right?

"Second, you don't need me to teach you how to increase magic power output. You can do it yourself."

Tom knew he was talking about the time his magic "recruited" from outside magic, but he hadn't quite grasped it yet.

"Third, that's what I'm going to teach you today." Grindelwald waved to him, "Cast a spell on me."

"Are you sure?" Tom asked.

The old devil raised his eyebrows.

He jumped up from the ground and said with a smile: "This is what you said - tarantella dance!"

The surprise spell didn't bother Grindelwald at all. He just shook his wand lightly, and the spell deflected, drilling a deep hole in the principal's cabinet, and the cabinet suddenly jingled. When it rang, I didn’t know what it was that was unlucky enough to be under the spell.

"Huh?" Tom was stunned for a moment. When dealing with attacks, he either dodges them or relies on the mist to attack them. This is the first time he has seen a deflection method.

"Come," Grindelwald said.

"Falling unconscious!" Tom made a mental move, his mind turned in the magic mist, and dozens of dark red magic spells flew out!

But Grindelwald still just waved his wand and easily deflected those spells. Only the portrait on the wall cursed and dodged.

Tom stopped trying and just raised his hand to Grindelwald: "Report to the teacher! I want to learn this!"

"What do you want to learn?" Dumbledore crawled out of the fireplace, his kind smile filled with murderous intent, "Learn to bomb the school?"

He patted the ashes on his robe, looked around at the messy office, and raised the corners of his mouth again.

"I thought only the stairs were blown up," he said slowly. "That's great." He faced Grindelwald and rolled up his sleeves.