HP: By the lake of Snake Garden, flowers bloom on the other side

October.

Influenza strikes all of Hogwarts.

Let's put it this way, basically one-third of the children in every class have a cold.

The other two-thirds of the students who didn't catch a cold were half of them because they had relatively good immunity and were physically strong, such as the members of the Fourth House Quidditch team.

The other half are children who have a relationship with the Good Hunger Club, including registered teachers, members, ordinary students, etc.

Lycoris had known about such a severe cold for a long time, and she had been providing potions at the Good Hungry Club as early as September.

She also told the teachers about this. If she saw any students with cold symptoms such as coughing, sneezing, hoarse voice, etc., she must ask them to come over and drink the potion.

"Why have you started doing charity recently?" Pansy asked Licoris curiously, "So many students have drank your potion, won't you lose money?"

"Am I going to lose money?" How could Lycoris do something that would cause a loss?

"How can we not lose money by providing free potions to all students? The taste of these potions is much better than the potions in the medical wing."

I don’t like hearing what you said. Licoris raised an eyebrow at Pansy.

I also made the potion for the hospital wing, but it tasted a little bit tastier.

There is a reason for providing free potions.

If students get sick too much, infectious diseases are not something you can avoid if you don't want to.

People spread it from person to person, and one day they will infect themselves. And maybe for some unlucky child, the strain will evolve to become even worse.

Licoris didn't expect much when she got sick. Colds and fevers were so uncomfortable.

The Good Hungry Club has a reputation for benevolence, and it will be more convincing if I, the president, speak out. Fame is something that is accumulated bit by bit.

The most important thing is that everyone is sick and does not come to study. Is the door open to welcome ghosts to play?

One week, two weeks, three weeks.

A Saturday before Halloween.

Licolis had just finished her Potions class and was walking to the Good Hungry Club with her books in her arms. When passing by the fifth underground classroom, I heard Filch cursing.

"These dirty things will stain the castle, oh! Look at these disgusting frog brains, sticky and smelly."

Licoris glanced at Filch who was washing the ceiling.

"Mr. Filch, do you need help?" Lycoris stood at the door and greeted him, seemingly not noticing his embarrassment.

In Licoris' view, ignoring other people's gaffes and treating them as normal is a form of respect.

"You'd better get out of here, Miss Snape," Filch said in a bad mood, looking at this smart and beautiful little witch who still spoke in a weird manner, "to save your beautiful robes from getting dirty."

"I miss Mrs. Norris," Licoris walked in. "Mr. Filch, please allow me to help you get rid of these things. Then take me to her, okay?"

If she said she was here to help him, Filch would think she was showing off her magical talent.

But she just asked herself to give her a chance to play with her beloved Mrs. Norris, and Filch couldn't refuse.

"Since you insist on doing this, I can't refuse."

Licoris picked up the wand and cast a spell. After a few spells, the fifth underground classroom was clean.

"Okay," Licoris smiled, not paying attention to Filch's gloomy expression, "Please take me to Mrs. Norris."

Filch locked the door and walked to his office without saying a word.

There was a ball of gray cat on the table. With Lycoris insisting on feeding it, she became much mellower.

"Mrs. Loris, shall we play together?" Licoris walked over briskly and reached out to her.

I don't have a strong perfume smell on me today, so the kitty probably won't reject me.

Licoris was very confident, but Mrs. Loris's yellow eyes looked at her without any reaction.

"She said you smell like frogs, and she doesn't like it." Filch's voice came from behind Licoris, and he translated her opinion, "Last time, the smell was too strong, and she didn't like it either."

"Mr. Filch, you are really amazing. You can telepathically communicate with cats." Licoris looked at him with joy in her eyes.

Filch didn't say anything, just sat back in his seat.

"Mr. Filch," Lycoris said, and Filch looked at her, "allow me to say one more thing, your personal letter is placed in such a conspicuous position. It may not be good if someone opens it privately. .”

The girl's white fingers pointed at the purple envelope next to Mrs. Norris as a sincere reminder.

"There is no need for you to remind me, Miss Snape, you should mind your own business." Filch was a little annoyed. This was the textbook for his correspondence course on introductory magic, and he didn't want anyone to know.

Filch is a squib, and a squib in a wizarding family is someone who has been abandoned.

"Since the current Mrs. Norris doesn't want to play with me, I'll come find her next time." The girl's brown eyes were bright and she looked like a smart and healthy kitten.

Licoris turned and left, and Filch picked up Mrs. Norris, "Do you like playing with her? You are my Mrs. Norlis, and you belong to me alone."

Mrs. Norris pressed her front paws on the man's shoulders and licked his cheek comfortingly.

"She has everything. She is young and beautiful. She has an enviable wand, magical abilities, and the opportunity to study at Hogwarts," Filch's voice was low, and he sat down heavily, making the chair scrape. Noise, "I have nothing, Mrs. Norris, I only have you."

Filch looked at the purple envelope and angrily stuffed it into the drawer.

The man thought of the frog brains in the fifth underground classroom. He had to clean them for several hours, but she, who knew magic, could solve it with just a few spells.

Why am I a squib?

Why can't I use magic?

When Lycoris walked out of Filch's office and turned into the corridor, she glanced over there.

Let's see how much I can influence the established plot. See you tonight, Mr. Filch.

A stormy night.

Mr. Harry Potter is really in a sorry state. Licoris stood in the corner with great interest.

Like a clay doll, dirty.

It's really rare for Gryffindor to have Senior Wood, and we have to train on this rainy night.

Speaking of training, Slytherin only had six light green shadows this time.

Licoris thought that she had to continue researching the vitality potion, otherwise she would lose this year's Quidditch match again.

The second-year original novel and film were both losers, and the boneless Mr. Potter suffered a lot, which is worth looking forward to.

"Mr. Harry Potter, I will definitely report to Professor McGonagall that you will be detained." Filch's voice was loud enough to be heard outside the office. "Confinement."