HP When Harry is a Genius

October came, and a damp chill permeated the grounds and seeped into the castle.There was a sudden flu epidemic among the teaching staff and students, which made Madam Pomfrey, the head nurse, flustered.Her pick-me-up has an immediate effect, but those who drink it leave smoke in their ears for hours on end.

Ginny Weasley had been sick lately, and Percy had forced him to drink some pick-me-up.As a result, puffs of steam rose from under her brightly colored hair, and her whole head seemed to be on fire.

Raindrops the size of bullets crackled against the windows of the castle and did not stop for days.The water in the lake was rising, and there was a mudslide in the flower beds, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of the flower sheds.

However, Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular Quidditch training did not diminish because of the flu and the rainy season, which made Harry often return to Gryffindor's castle soaked and muddy at dusk when it was stormy.

The only consolation to Harry was that the Slytherins were apparently as enthusiastic about training as Wood was.

He'd often seen Draco's meticulously combed-back platinum hair become more disheveled than Ron's red hair after training.The Slytherin green robe, which was always clean and tidy without even a single wrinkle, was covered in mud just like himself.

Such a disheveled and sloppy Draco could make Harry laugh every time.

Draco wasn't angry at all, he seemed intent on knocking Harry down at the House Cup.He devoted himself to Quidditch training, devoting almost all his time and energy to flying sports, even mud and wind and rain could not stop him.

According to Gore and Crabbe, Draco even had to do strength exercises such as sit-ups and push-ups in the dormitory. son.

The Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, often showed this off to Wood.

"Hey, is your squeamish Potter still resisting training today? Our Malfoy Seeker asks for extra practice every day!" He would repeat this sentence almost every time he saw Wood.

Wood could only aim at Harry, who was always lazy and always trying to avoid training and go to the library. "Harry, athleticism and passion are clearly our Gryffindor traits, we shouldn't be behind Slytherins in Quidditch training! You can't always act like those weak Ravenclaws, don't know I thought you were assigned to the wrong house!" He was always admonishing Harry like this endlessly.

But Harry really didn't think there was anything admirable about training tiredly in the storm. He was still very confident in his talent in Quidditch.Fortunately, as long as he was on the pitch with the Slytherin team, as long as he could see Draco in a panic, Harry would feel a little better.

Unfortunately, apart from Harry, no one in the team was happy about the presence of the Slytherin team.

The Gryffindors had been scouting the Slytherin team, and they had seen with their own eyes the speed of those new brooms Nimbus 2001.The Slytherins, George and Fred said, were now just seven faint greenish shadows, flying in the air like Muggle jets.The Gryffindors were all in despair.

Under the influence of Wood's continuous high-pressure training and the continued downturn of the players, Harry's mood gradually became less good.Especially when he finally sneaked into Slytherin's secret room a while ago and saw that magical basilisk.

But the basilisk refused to recognize Harry as its master!It said Harry wasn't even a student of Slytherin!

The basilisk despises the great "savior" Mr. Harry Potter.It says it only recognizes the heir of Salazar Slytherin, and that Harry, is just a "dirty half-breed" from Gryffindor.

It pissed Harry off.He was arguing with the basilisk, Tom Riddle was half blood, Tom's father was a pure Muggle, and his mother, Harry, was a wizard anyway.But the basilisk said that poor little Tom was mixed with the blood of the great Slytherin, and trash Harry was mixed with the blood of the Mudblood.

The basilisk also moved out the "one drop rule", saying that as long as there is a drop of Slytherin's blood, it is a noble descendant of Slytherin; on the contrary, as long as there is a drop of Muggle blood, it is a dirty hybrid.This double-standard bullshit principle made Harry very angry, but he still shamelessly argued with the basilisk, saying that he also had a Parseltongue, and his ancestors also had the noble blood of Slytherin.But the basilisk is smart. It said that Parseltongue was both innate and acquired, and Harry must have learned it. It said that it can guarantee that Harry has absolutely no Slytherin blood.What else to say, the descendants of Slytherin may go to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but they will never enter Gryffindor.

Harry really didn't understand why a basilisk was obsessed with wizard blood?Wizards and basilisks are two different species. It stands to reason that whether they are pure-blooded, half-blooded or Muggles, to basilisks, they are just human beings.Even if it is a pure-blood wizard, it is not pure blood of the basilisk. Harry thinks this basilisk is hypocritical!

In short, after all, the basilisk ignored Harry even if he tried to talk it out, which made Harry very angry.

To add fuel to the flames, Draco was always avoiding Harry for some reason.He seemed intent on seeing Harry as a Quidditch competitor, as though the Slytherins had secret tactics and needed to guard against Gryffindor spies too.Wood also always advised Harry that he should keep his distance from Draco before the match, so that he would appear "more in line".

All this made Harry's mood worse and worse.

Harry couldn't believe that Draco was avoiding him because of Quidditch, but he couldn't figure out where he had offended Draco.It seems that Draco has deliberately distanced himself from him since he doesn't know when.

It was Saturday, and although it was another storm, Wood once again let the players train against the bad weather for a day.

After training, Harry returned to Gryffindor Castle exhausted. "I knew I would have listened to the Sorting Hat and went to Slytherin." Harry muttered dissatisfiedly. He coveted the basilisk that has lived for more than 1000 years. At least he looks more popular, unlike Hydra. That little black snake can't do anything.

Harry grumbled and grumbled as he walked along the empty corridor, complaining softly all the way, when he suddenly saw a man who was as preoccupied as he was—the ghost of Gryffindor Castle, "Nearly Headless Nick".He was looking out of the window melancholy, muttering in a low voice: "If you don't meet their conditions, it's only half an inch away. If then—"

"Hello, Nick," said Harry.

"Hello, hello." Nearly Headless Nick was taken aback, looking around.

His long curly hair wore a stylish feathered hat, and he wore a knee-length tunic with a wagon-wheel ruff that hid his neck, which was almost The fact of being completely cut off.

He was as intangible as a wisp of smoke, and Harry could look out through his body at the dark sky and the pouring rain.

"You seem to have something on your mind, young Potter," Nick said, folding up a transparent letter and hiding it under his tight jacket.

"You too," said Harry.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant and slender hand, "It's a trivial matter. It's not that I really want to participate. I thought I could apply, but it seems that I'm not eligible."

His tone was nonchalant, but there was deep pain on his face.

"Tell me," he burst out suddenly, pulling the letter out of his pocket again, "was hacked 44 times on the neck with a blunt ax, is he eligible to join the Headless Hunter?"

"Oh, yes." Harry should obviously agree.

"I mean, more than anyone, I wish things were done cleanly, and my head was cut off completely. I mean, it would save me a lot of pain, and I wouldn't be made fun of. But— —” Nearly Headless Nick shook the letter away and read angrily: “We can only accept hunters whose head is separated from the body. You will be fully aware that if this is not the case, the members will not be able to participate in the horseback show.” and headers and the like. It is with great regret that I therefore inform you that you do not qualify for us. Regards, Mr. Patrick Debord."

Nearly Headless Nick tucked the letter into his clothes angrily.

"Just a little bit of skin and tendons attached to my neck, Harry! Most people would think it was actually the same thing as losing my head. But no, in the eyes of Mr. Debordmore, who has completely lost his head, this not enough."

Nearly Headless Nick took a few deep breaths, and then said in a much calmer tone, "So, what are you worrying about? Can I help?"

"No, unless you can get Draco to stop avoiding me out of nowhere," Harry said, "but why did you join that weird team? Why don't you try writing to his opponent?"

"Meow—" Harry's voice was drowned out by a sudden shrill cry near his ankle.

He looked down and saw two yellow eyes that glowed like lamps.It was Mrs. Norris, the scrawny gray cat whom Filch the Caretaker put to good use as his second-in-command in his never-ending battles with the students.

"Little Mr. Malfoy has been quite abnormal recently. He is too enthusiastic about Quidditch training, and he has become more silent, and his temper seems to have worsened." Nick said thoughtfully, and then he cried out in surprise, "Ah, Harry, you reminded me! Why didn't I think of it, I should write to the arch-rival of this hated team!"

"You'd better get out of here, Harry," Nick went on blithely. "Filch is in a bad mood. He's got a cold, and a few third-years accidentally smeared frog brains on the floor of Fifth Basement." On the ceiling. He's been rinsing all morning, if he sees you dripping muddy water all over the place."

"True," said Harry, stepping back from Mrs. Norris's accusing 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, panting and staring at Harry savagely.

Harry was in a terrible mood.

The author has something to say: "The principle of one drop of blood" is a law recognized by American society during the period before black slavery and the 19th century: even if you have only one drop of black blood, you are still black.

This "discrimination" is still applicable in American society. Perhaps it is not discrimination anymore, but common sense recognized by the American society, that is, even if you have a drop of colored blood, you are still a colored person.

For example, there are many mixed-race stars in the NBA. In fact, after several generations of dilution, their white ancestry is much larger than that of black ancestry, and their appearance is almost the same as that of ordinary whites, but they are still classified as black stars.The same goes for the mixed blood of yellow race and white race.

Fortunately, today's racial discrimination is not as tragic as it used to be, and it pays more attention to individuals rather than skin color and race, right?

读者“青衣沽酒客。”,灌溉营养液+742018-12-3020:08:42

Thank you Tsing Yi Gu Jiu Ke!This update is for Tsing Yi boss!