Harry Potter: I'm the Rolling King at Hogwarts

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The content in this chapter is purely for fun. Please do not bring it into reality. Any similarity is purely coincidental.

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The next day, Monday, early morning.

It was the beginning of fourth grade, and Albert was jogging around Hogwarts Castle. The road was slightly muddy due to the heavy rain last night.

Stopping in front of the door of the auditorium, a thin layer of sweat broke out on Albert's body.

"Clean up!"

A cat-shaped silver patron saint jumped a few times, came down from the high tower of the castle, and jumped onto Albert's shoulder. Professor McGonagall's voice came from inside.

"Albert, come to my office for a chat."

Albert slapped his head and then remembered that he had not received the Time Turner for this semester yet. You should know that he had not dropped out of Muggle Studies and Divination classes and still had the right to use the Time Turner until the end of fifth grade.

Of course, if Albert still chooses all the electives in the sixth and seventh grades, he will still get the right to use the time turner, but no one will do that and spend a lot of time on the two basic subjects of divination and muggle studies. Taking a useless course is not worth the gain, and the price/performance ratio is too low.

Professor McGonagall hung the time turner around Albert's neck with her own hands, and said kindly: "Oh, yes, congratulations on becoming the representative of the Wizengamot Young Wizards."

Professor McGonagall was very confident in Albert's strength, "Well, it would be great if you were the champion of Hogwarts. The trophy would basically belong to Hogwarts."

Albert shook his head, "Professor Dumbledore said..."

Professor McGonagall interrupted Albert's words, and she said angrily: "Don't mention that name to me, leave everything to me during the summer vacation, and run away to do other things...

The most irritating thing is Sybil. She told nonsense after drinking, saying that Albus would become extremely weak, and Albus believed it. Do you dare to believe that Albus actually chose to believe in a magician! "

Albert's eyes flashed and he didn't say much. His class schedule today was very tight. The first period in the morning was herbal medicine class, followed by Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies that overlapped with it.

Professor Sprout has always been tolerant of students, so although Albert was 2 minutes late, she kindly let Albert enter the greenhouse.

Sprout showed everyone a brand new plant.

They looked less like plants than like big, black, slimy slugs that stood straight out of the soil.And all of them were squirming slightly, and there were many big shiny bulges on their bodies, which seemed to be filled with liquid.

"Babo tuber," Professor Sprout told everyone cheerfully, "you need to squeeze it by hand, and you have to collect its pus."

"What?" Seamus Finnigan asked in a disgusted tone. Unless you have a special hobby, this plant is difficult to like.

"Pug, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "it's of great value, don't waste it. Listen, you're going to collect the pus in these bottles. Wear your Dragonhide gloves, undiluted babo tuber pus, cause unusual damage to the skin."

The process of squeezing the tuber is disgusting but also strangely satisfying.Whenever a bulge is squeezed, a large stream of viscous, yellow-green liquid will spurt out, emitting a pungent gasoline smell.

They followed Professor Sprout's instructions and collected the liquids in bottles. By the time the class was about to end, they had collected several bottles.

Near the end of get out of class, Professor Sprout happily announced that their task for today was completed, "Okay, now Madam Pomfrey should be happy, this is the best medicine for treating stubborn acne..."

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Across the wet ground, Albert and Hermione each held a book under their arms and arrived next to Hagrid's hut, where every Care of Magical Creatures class was held.

Regarding this course, Albert suggested to Hagrid very early on that this course should not be too dangerous, and at the same time, it should not lose its interest. It would be best to find some rare and interesting magical animals.

I don’t know if Hagrid can follow Albert’s suggestion. His aesthetic taste is very different from ordinary people.

Hagrid was standing in front of his cabin, holding Fang's rope in his hand.

On the ground at his feet were several cages made of welded iron rods, containing some strange-looking chickens.

"Come here quickly, can you hear me? Come here and form a circle!" Hagrid shouted with a loud voice.

Hagrid pointed to the cage at his feet and said:

"That's what we're going to be learning about today, the guinea fowl, a very rare and amazing animal."

Everyone's eyes were on these strange chickens. If Hagrid hadn't said they were chickens, they would have thought they were deformed chickens.

Normal body shape, but the color of the chicken body is very strange, black and white.

Black occupies a huge area, and two thick white lines extend from the chicken butt to the root of the chicken wings, continue to extend around the chicken breast, and reach the thigh.

It looks like two chicken shoulder straps.

There is also this kind of chicken, both male and female, with black combs, and the combs are also bifurcated. The black combs grow from the top of the chicken's head to halfway and naturally bifurcate, split into two combs, and droop. on both sides.

Hagrid introduced this magical animal to everyone, "This kind of chicken is very magical. Its cries can bring people happiness. The effect is stronger than the happiness spell cast by ordinary wizards. A wizard will often laugh when he hears their cries. My stomach hurts and I have no strength all over my body.

Also, their jumping ability is very strong. A normally developed guinea fowl can usually jump as high as a person, so I put them in an iron cage.

There is a limitation to their calls, that is, they must have grown for two and a half years before their calls can have that magical power. The older they are, the stronger the call effect. Two and a half years ago, they were just some of the same-looking people. Weird chicken.

It is for this reason that many people in the wizarding world often mistakenly think that guinea fowl are just ordinary broiler chickens. For a long time, they were brought to the table and their numbers decreased sharply. Four years ago, by Newt Scamander Mr. Wang pushed for the British Ministry of Magic to legislate and include the ban on hunting guinea fowl in the Protection of Magical Creatures Act. "

He kicked the iron cage at his feet. The guinea fowl inside were frightened and flapped their wings. Some of the lying guinea fowls stood up and exposed their chicken feet.

They jumped up hard, hit their heads on the iron cage, and screamed in pain:

"Ke-ke-ke-ke, co--ke-ke-ke-ke..."

It seems that these are some guinea fowls that have been growing for two and a half years. Their cries exude magical power, and even Albert can't help but laugh.

Hagrid clapped his hands and shouted loudly: "Okay, okay, stop laughing now, our task in recent lessons is to feed them.

Guinea fowl are very picky eaters. If you don't feed them well, don't eat the eggs they lay! "