Rebirth of the Harry Potter
Chapter 422: Thinking Meow
Snape said: "Anyone who has read the operating instructions carefully, put your drug samples into a pot-bellied short-necked bottle, mark your name, and take it to my podium for testing."
"There is also homework: a paper full of twelve inches on parchment, discussing the properties of moonstone and its use in pharmaceuticals, to be submitted on Thursday."
Snape suddenly shifted his gaze to someone, and said blankly: "Pablo Tejera, you seem to have a problem with my homework assignments. Then write sixteen inches long, and I will check it carefully. ."
The Slytherin student named Pablo Tejera was crying. He was the student who made Snape jokes before class, but he didn't expect Snape to hear it.
Sixteen inches, 0.4 meters.
...
The classmates in the classroom began to fill the short-necked bottles with medicine, and then cleaned everything on the test bench.
Harry and Hermione stepped forward just after Snape had finished speaking and placed two glass bottles on the podium.
Snape didn't look at Harry directly. On a parchment with a list of students, he scored a score after the names of the two, which seemed to be a perfect score.
Harry's attitude towards Snape had long been unsurprising, and if Snape complimented him, it would be impossible than the end of the world would arrive tomorrow.
Maybe it was Harry and Hermione's actions that gave the others courage. They thought that I would be okay. They didn't dare to be praised by Snape. As long as they could be like Harry, Snape would not say a word. So the students below each took short-necked bottles filled with potions and covered with corks and walked to Snape's podium.
Ron trembling hands, put a bottle of "moderate" that smelled strange in front of Snape.
Snape's expression became disgusted. He slapped his hand in front of him, and said disgustedly, "Mr. Weasley, are you cooking rotten eggs?"
The pen in Snape's hand was unceremonious and scored a zero.
"Mr. Longbottom, well, you haven't used it to clean it up yet. You told me this thing is a moderator? I think it's solidified cement. I'm really curious how you got them out of the cauldron."
"Miss Pleven, even the feces of Billy Wiggella is a hundred times more normal than your inexplicable stuff."
Pleven ran away crying and hiding his face.
"Bolt, what is this? Rubbish..."
"Waste..."
...
Snape unceremoniously used a big taunting technique, cursing everyone for nothing.
Obviously only a few minutes have passed, but to the people in the house, it seems that a long time has passed.
The get out of class bell finally rang, and everyone except Harry and Hermione wanted to be the first to rush out of the underground classroom.
Harry went out of the basement, only to find that the sky was darker and gloomier than it was in the morning, and the rain was smashing down.
There was no class in the morning, and Harry and Hermione went back to the cabin they loved.
Helena was in the kitchen, making a rattling noise.
"Helena, what are you doing? The rolling pin is not allowed to be used privately." Harry said with a smile.
Helena: "..."
Hermione: "..."
After a long silence, Helena's voice came from the kitchen: "...I am preparing to make meat-filled mashed potato pies at noon, and I am kneading dough."
Hermione pushed Harry and pushed him to the bookshelf: "Go, stay away from us."
Then went into the kitchen.
Helena is a transparent ghost, with fine flour on her palms and body, just like stars dotted in the night sky, which is really beautiful.
Hermione looked at the kind and beautiful Helena, and couldn't help feeling sad for her. She is the daughter of Ravenclaw, but now she is no different from an ordinary cook. She has become a ghost and has to work hard.
"Helena, I'll help you chop the meat," Hermione said.
"Well, the finer the pie, the better." Helena nodded.
On the chopping board, a cleaned hind leg of a certain animal is placed, and the fat and lean are balanced. The pie tasted just right.
"There is no shadow of the gods." Hermione used magic.
That's right, the troublesome stuff like mincing meat is of course convenient to use magic. (Snape: So that's it. It turns out that the best use of the magic I created is here. I have learned a lot.)
Countless sharp sharp edges slashed across the meat, and it was quickly cut into pieces.
Helena said: "Not yet, you still need to cut again with a knife."
"Why, this has been cut into small pieces."
Helena said seriously: "I read a story in Western Food Weekly. There is a world chain of Mexican food. Its owner introduced the most advanced food cutting machine, chicken, cucumber and carrot... It can be done by a machine, which greatly reduces the chef’s work. However, the boss finally gave up using the machine and asked to continue to use humans to complete all the cooking processes, because he found that the taste of the burrito made by the machine was not as good as the manual cut. The dishes are delicious. I think this is because the machine is too sharp. Although the cut pieces are more shattered than the hand-chopped ones, in fact, every ingredient is not broken and the taste cannot be displayed. So you The minced meat is crushed and it will be more delicious."
Hermione said blankly: "Good...professional..."
"Don't you hate this kind of life? Harry asked to do all kinds of things." Hermione asked.
Helena lowered her head slightly, her curly hair covering half of her face: "No, I like it very much."
...
Harry was watching the shocking scene, words could no longer express his inner shock.
"Although this is a magical world, it's too mysterious."
Little cutie squatted on the desk, flipping through a book of magic history with her paws, and her gleaming gaze told Harry that she was not playing, but really reading the text on the book.
"Hermione, our cat has grown up, she is reading." Harry shouted.
But Hermione was not surprised: "Did you know? Or should I teach her writing together with Zhang Qiu. During the summer vacation, I took Xiao cutie to a Muggle institution to evaluate the IQ. The doctor said Xiao cutie is now about eight. The wisdom of a year-old child, since she can speak, then I will teach her to read."
"You brought a talking cat to the Muggle World for an IQ test?!"
Hermione said embarrassedly, "We used the Forgetting Curse on that doctor."
...
Little cutie stretched, shook his body, and said to Harry disdainfully: "Is this the servant's words and stories? It's really boring. How can we compare with our cats, we just need to use A "meow" sound can express all meanings, and your history has always been wars, stupid, and there are obviously too many dried fish."
"Yes, yes, Master Meow is right." Harry rolled his eyes without explaining.
Little cutie is just like an ignorant little girl, thinking that all of Harry and them are her subordinates. They are very naive, but this is the concept of cats, and Harry can't explain it. Even if Harry bullied her severely, she would not recognize the reality, but fearfully said her servant had rebelled.
Harry stretched out his hand, and cutie immediately jumped onto Harry's arm with graceful steps, and Harry hugged cutie in his arms.
Little cutie twitched her pink nose, and a gleam of sparkle came out of the corner of her mouth.
"I can smell the meat, I'm so hungry, Harry, first give Ben Miao some dried fish to cushion his belly."
Harry opened a glass cabinet, which was filled with cat foods of various brands. These were rations for Cutie and Crookshanks.
"Well, cute, which one do you eat? Kruisi, Mfudi, Mziyuan?"
The cute little paw waved: "Today, try the yellow bag on the left of the second row."
Harry immediately took it down for the cutie, put two small plates on the desk, and poured the dried fish onto the plates.
"Crookshanks, come down to eat." Little cutie shouted at Crookshanks who looked like a big **** hat.
Crookshanks opened his eyes and jumped from the fireplace.
The wooden table made a thud.
Little cutie is very good to Crookshanks, she seems to think Crookshanks is a subject in her territory. Crookshanks thinks so too, it is both respectful and fearful of cutie.
Maybe the cat family also has classes.
Little cutie sniffed, took the dried dried fish and chewed it "Wow wow wow".
Suddenly, she asked angrily: "Harry, why do I have fewer dried fish on my plate than Crookshanks?"
"Because it is several times larger than you, of course you have to eat more." Harry rubbed Crookshank's hair. Its hair was hard and fluffy, like a lion cub, which really matched the image of its owner, Hermione. UU reading www. uukanshu.com
"Then you eat more and grow into Crookshanks?" Harry persuaded.
"No, no, I don't want to eat like that." Little cutie objected firmly.
"Why?" Harry asked casually.
Huh, yeah, why? Little cutie suddenly felt puzzled.
...Perhaps because once I became a huge physique like Crookshanks, I wouldn't be cute enough, and I couldn't run on Harry's shoulders as he pleased, and Harry might not like me the way he does now.
Impossible, impossible, Harry is just Ben Meow's servant, I don't care about his opinion.
Harry couldn’t guess that Little Cutie’s mind could be so complicated as a cat. He just saw that Cutie suddenly stopped eating, as if the dried fish in his hand suddenly disappeared, and then stood silly with his eyes flat. The air ahead is like thinking about meow.
...
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