Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Azeroth

Chapter 28 28. Next time, Malfoy’s death

In the end, Seamus only divined what tomorrow's lunch would be like. As for Dean, he simply didn't do any divination - because he saw Seamus' anxious look after the divination, so he gave up after thinking about it.

In Dean's words, he didn't want to be kept in suspense by the results of the divination, as that would prevent him from sleeping well at night.

Well, if it was about the answers to the Divination final exam, Dean might have some ideas, but Hermione's preaching was a bit too annoying, so forget it.

"Are you sure we can learn divination too?" Finally, Seamus looked at Harry expectantly and said.

"Not sure," Harry didn't dare to make such a boast, "I can teach you to try it when the time comes. If you have the talent, you can naturally predict the future."

"If you don't have the talent, forget it, right?" Hermione snorted coldly and said unhappily.

"That's what magic is like, Hermione," Harry said with a smile. The little girl's unconvinced look was quite cute.

If hard work is really the decisive factor, then it is not Azeroth fighting against the Burning Legion, but the Burning Legion fighting against Azeroth - after all, there is no shortage of hard-working people everywhere.

Azeroth invaded our world, and I, the noble Eredar, became refugees... How could I have such a dream?

Harry's divination was confirmed at noon the next day. Amid Seamus' exclamation, his favorite roast beef and steak and kidney pudding appeared in front of him. The staple food was marshmallows and pancakes - everything was exactly the same as Harry's divination yesterday.

"It's true! Harry!" With a pair of dark circles under his eyes, Seamus excitedly grabbed Harry's arm and shouted in a low voice: "Your divination is true!!"

Seamus tossed and turned in bed last night and hardly slept at all, his mind full of divination. He was so sleepy during the first spells class in the morning that he accidentally exploded the table in front of him.

Uh, wait — does this really have anything to do with being sleepy?
Anyway, Seamus insisted that he blew up the table because he was sleepy, and then he made up for his sleep in the second section of the History of Magic.

Harry felt that he seemed to have underestimated the efficiency and imagination of Hogwarts students in spreading a rumor. After all, the castle was so small, and the senior students had long lost the novelty they had when they first entered school. Every day was so ordinary, so everyone liked new changes.

When Harry had his first flying lesson in the afternoon, he could even faintly hear people in the distance whispering and pointing at him, saying that he had predicted that Hogwarts would be invaded, and even the professors were beaten to the point of vomiting blood, with heavy casualties - Harry could no longer hold back.

What is this all about? ?
Aren't these kids too idle? ? Wouldn't it be better to go to the library and read some books?

We are here to learn magic!

Harry had a feeling that if he allowed these brats to continue spreading the news, it wouldn't be long before Dumbledore came to talk to him, accusing him of causing panic.

"So what rumors did you spread?" Harry sighed and looked at Ron speechlessly.

"Eh? You can't call it a rumor, right?" Ron vaguely knew that he seemed to have caused trouble for Harry, so he scratched his head and said with a wry smile, "It's just that you predicted Professor Quirrell yesterday. I didn't expect it to be spread like this - but Harry, you really can predict the future! Those senior guys don't even believe you! I can't stand this!"

At the end of the conversation, Ron became indignant.

"You've written more than three lines in one sentence, Ron," Hermione said sharply, "Harry will be very troubled."

"Do you still remember what Harry said..." Ron was choked and was a little speechless. He looked at Harry and said embarrassedly: "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't expect things to turn out like this."

"Those seniors are so annoying! They said no one can tell fortunes, and they also said you can only predict other people's deaths."

"Well, according to what you said, Ron, Harry did predict someone else's death - a professor's death at that." Neville concluded after taking a look at the idle people who came to watch the fun around the flying class venue.

After noticing that Harry and the others were looking over there, the senior students burst into laughter.

"Don't, don't mind them, Harry," Neville said hastily, "Didn't your lunch fortune telling succeed?"

"Wait for a moment," Harry felt a slight headache coming on, "Professor Quirrell isn't dead yet - no, even in the picture from the divination, Professor Quirrell isn't dead yet."

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked curiously, "Are there other fortune tellers in Hogwarts? Did he predict someone else's death?"

"I don't know, they didn't tell me," Ron shrugged and said, "I'm afraid we have to ask around. We can ask Fred and George."

"Hey, Potter! I heard you can predict the future?"

While they were talking, Malfoy's voice suddenly came from the other side. He shouted provocatively: "If you really can predict, why not predict when you will fall off your broom? After all, you have never seen a broom."

"Oh no, Draco, I think he has seen it - while sweeping the floor at his Muggle uncle's house."

There was a low laugh from the Slytherin group.

Harry sighed. He couldn't stand this kind of provocation between children. It was annoying, just like a fly - the key was that you couldn't really hit him to death.

"Don't mess with me, Malfoy," Harry turned his head and said, "I'm not interested in playing some childish games with you. I think you already know how hard my fist is."

This time it was Gryffindor who laughed.

Beast fighting and watching plays are two of mankind's oldest hobbies, even today.

"...Rude! Savage! Not like a wizard at all! Gryffindor!!" Amid the laughter, Malfoy's fair face turned red with anger, and a string of swear words slipped out of his mouth quickly, but to be fair, Harry felt that the boy's swearing was quite elegant.

One has to admit that Malfoy's etiquette education is still good, but his values are not correct - he can't even use any dirty words to curse people, which is far worse than the adventurers Harry has met.

And he was very courageous. Even though he had been beaten a few days ago, it didn't take long for him to dare to provoke again.

When the two houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin come together, it's like the strange reaction between hot coals and cold water - one of them has to change temperature.

But fortunately, it won't happen today, because the flying class professor Madam Hooch has come. She was not even surprised or nervous about the tense atmosphere between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but skillfully separated the two groups and calmed down the war with ease. "Just wait to fall, Potter! Be careful not to break your broom with your rags of copper and iron!"

Well, Malfoy still whispered something vicious.

Harry felt that this child really should be sorted into Gryffindor. After all, it was not easy to dare to challenge someone stronger than himself after being punched. This was a manifestation of courage.

"...Why do I feel like he's reminding you not to wear too much and to be careful," After watching Malfoy leave, Hermione suddenly turned around and whispered, "Seriously, can you really fly in this?"

Except when he slept at night, Harry kept wearing mail armor all day long. After a few days, this became a fact known to everyone in Hogwarts - because there was a Slytherin student who was angry about what happened on the train that day and collapsed in the bathroom when he tried to launch a sneak attack.

"Of course," Harry said firmly, "How can there be a mount that can't carry a person? And it's just a magic broom. I've ridden one before."

The magic broom of Dalaran is one of the mounts collected by Harry Potter. There is even a collector's edition given to him by Jaina - a hollow magic broom carved from arcane crystal. Its shape has a kind of luxurious beauty of blood elves, and it also emits the blue-purple light that Harry likes very much, plus a star-like tail flame. There is only one such broom in the whole Azeroth.

It's nothing like those time-limited wooden brooms handed out during Halloween.

Harry once rode it with Jaina in the night sky of Dalaran, shuttling between the towers, competing to see who would be the first to reach the finish line, and Harry never lost.

To be honest, Harry missed the feeling of diving down at high speed.

"…stretch out your right hand, place it over the broom handle—and say: 'Get up!'"

Madam Hooch had already started her lesson, but Harry just raised his hand and the broom jumped into his hand as if it couldn't wait and rolled around in his palm.

"Get up! Get up! Get up! Hurry up!"

Beside Harry, Hermione kept urging them, and when she found that most of the other members of the society had already grabbed their brooms, she became even more anxious.

"Remember how Transfiguration felt, Hermione," Harry reminded her. "You had to command it, focus, and resolve."

"Okay, okay, orders, right?" Hermione took a deep breath and focused, "Get up!"

This time it worked.

"Is all magic like this?" Hermione stared at the broom in her hand and muttered, "Why do you have to have this mentality to succeed? Can't you just be good?"

She didn't like the feeling of giving orders to others.

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "At least that's most of the magic I learned at Hogwarts."

Madam Hooch taught very quickly, or rather there was nothing to teach in the flying lesson itself. You could tell whether you had the talent to fly just by sitting on the broom.

Malfoy flew pretty well, although not as well as he had done when he had spent days on the dining table flying a broom to dodge Muggle helicopters, but at least he flew smoothly and skillfully.

At least not the first time riding a broom.

Harry was getting used to the performance of the broom beneath him, feeling its flexibility in steering and its speed of response when receiving instructions...Then he looked down and saw Hermione lying on the broom.

Floating about two meters above the ground, Hermione was like a koala, wishing she had two more hands to hold the broom. Harry couldn't help laughing at her funny look.

"Don't laugh!" Although she was extremely nervous, Hermione still keenly caught Harry's laughter and screamed.

"Sorry, sorry - be careful!!" Harry's smiling face suddenly changed and he shouted.

"what!!!"

Hermione let out a deafening scream because just now, Malfoy suddenly rushed over on his broom and hit her hard.

Just like a wooden pin hit by a bowling ball, Hermione and her broom were knocked several meters away in the air.

"Malfoy! Do you want to die?!" Unexpectedly, it was Neville who shouted this. After Hermione was knocked out like this, Neville, who was also climbing low in the air, changed his usual shy look, as if he wanted to jump up from his broom and pounce on Malfoy to beat him up.

Then came the second scream.

Neville's broom was out of control for a moment, and it seemed to interpret his movements as instructions for an exciting move, and it rushed upward like a cork from a shaken champagne bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet!
He's still rising!
In just a blink of an eye, Neville rushed from a low altitude near the ground to a place where a person on the ground looked like a small dot - and his endless screams of fear.

It was even difficult for him to scream. Neville could only close his mouth and let the whistling wind block his breath.

"Oh my God! Child!!" Madam Hooch was also anxious. She didn't even bother to scold Malfoy. She quickly got on her broom and chased after him, "Hold on!!"

Neville's broom seemed to be taking him into an unknown territory. It began to stagger and draw a strange arc towards the Black Lake.

"Ha! Another fool!" He looked a little scared, but not too scared. Malfoy didn't even feel guilty about what he had caused. Instead, he laughed and said, "Look what I found?"

He skillfully fiddled with his broom and fell down. He swept over at a height close to the ground and picked up a translucent ball from the ground. In Malfoy's hand, the glass ball suddenly turned red.

This is a memory ball. If its owner forgets something while holding it, it will turn red.

“Did I forget something?” Malfoy tilted his head slightly puzzled. “Forget it, it doesn’t matter—look, that big idiot dropped something, did you hear him scream? So stupid, hahahahahahaha!”

Holding the broom handle, Harry looked down at Malfoy coldly.

(End of this chapter)