Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

"Well...you're right. I'll be leaving now."

"Let's have a drink together sometime. How about the Hog's Head? The atmosphere there is better."

"It's a deal, Hagrid."

"goodbye!"

Seeing Hagrid send Melvin out the door, Harry and Hermione were so angry that they wanted to stuff his mouth with toffee again.

……

Hogsmeade.

at dusk.

The sky had darkened, and the clouds and fog in the sky were dyed the color of a curtain. The street lights on the ground lit up one after another. The shops on both sides of the street were basically closed, and only a few shops open at night lit up the oil lamps.

After dinner, the middle-aged wizard Taklot asked his wife for the task of buying oil and salt, then strolled out of the house and headed towards the Three Broomsticks, looking at the familiar village as he walked.

Hogsmeade is located in the Scottish Highlands, where the temperature is lower than in London. The nearby mountains are rolling, and the temperature difference between the upper and lower parts is large. There is always wind at night, whistling through the streets and making it very cold.

Taking a leisurely stroll, he watched other middle-aged wizards emerge from the alleys one after another, glance at each other, joke and curse at each other, and felt particularly happy.

Tuckerlot is a Hogwarts graduate and was once a popular figure in the school. When he was in school, he served as Slytherin prefect and Quidditch captain, and led the college and the team to win two house cups.

After graduation, Taklot failed to enter the professional arena and became an ordinary wizard. He inherited some business from his family, but it was not as glorious as the pure-blooded saints. He just purchased hinkypunk from Africa, made a durable and beautiful lamp, and resold it to some wealthy wizards.

The business passed down from generation to generation is not a great fortune, but there is some savings, which is enough to take care of the family's food and daily life and live a happy and stable life.

Tuckerot's biggest hobby is Quidditch. His past regrets have been relieved as he grows older. Now he just loves to watch the game. He takes his whole family to watch the Quidditch World Cup every four years.

Tuckerot is what fans call a championship fan. He supports whoever wins the championship. Before last year's final, he supported the Scottish national team, which had a higher chance of winning. After the game, he became a die-hard fan of the Canadian national team.

Advocate honor and respect the strong.

Tucrot felt that there was nothing wrong with his ideas. Until the next Quidditch World Cup, he would be a loyal fan of the Canadian national team and enjoy the glory of the winner at the Three Broomsticks as a fan.

That's what Slytherin is like.

But this plan was thwarted when he met that guy Malcolm.

Malcolm was the same age as him and had been the Quidditch captain of Gryffindor. They had won and lost against each other in school and had never gotten along well. After graduation, they became neighbors and their relationship eased a little.

That guy was a big fan of the Scottish national team; they'd gotten along quite well before the last match. After the match, he stubbornly maintained that the Scottish team was stronger, and it was only because Lamont had a shorter finger that they'd missed out on the championship.

The two started arguing about this.

Gryffindors are all stubborn!

I must defeat him tonight!

With unwavering faith, Tucrot pushed open the door of the Three Broomsticks, and sure enough, Malcolm was already there, sitting in his old seat at the counter.

Taklot walked over and sat down next to him. Instead of drinking butterbeer as usual, he ordered a glass of mead. He looked down and saw that there was also mead next to him, and sneered in his heart.

"Don't you stick to your own way? Why didn't you order butterbeer and followed the trend instead of mead?"

"It's hard to explain to a Slytherin like you whose brain stem is clogged with maggots from dragon dung."

"!!"

The battle was about to break out, and the tavern was suddenly filled with vulgar curses and greetings.

The onlookers listened with laughter. It was so much fun. They could learn gossip about the players and learn the lost wizard slang. They looked forward to this lively atmosphere every weekend.

Ms. Rosmerta wiped the wine utensils silently, as if she was used to it. When most of the weekend drinkers had gathered, she put the silver wine ladle into the wooden barrel, stood up and walked into the inner room.

The drinkers were concentrating on the quarrel between the two football fans, occasionally adding fuel to the fire. Only a few customers noticed the female boss's actions and saw her bring out a huge transparent silver mirror from behind.

The attention of some drinkers was attracted.

Taklot and Malcolm, who were concentrating on arguing, found that the surroundings had become quiet at some point. There were fewer people fanning the flames, and their interest in quarreling had also diminished. Their quarreling was no longer smooth and they were a little stumbling.

But the two of them still insisted on describing the dragon shit in each other's heads until they heard a young and loud voice:

"Welcome to this season's Quidditch game at Hogwarts!"

Taklot and Malcolm turned their heads and saw the vivid picture on the silver mirror. Their eyes suddenly widened and they stared at the strange yet familiar stadium without blinking.

"Today's matchup is between Slytherin and Gryffindor!"

The noise exploded in the pub.

Chapter 48 The principal also needs help

There was a chorus of low exclamations. Taklot and Malcolm were equally shocked, with uncontrollable surprise and nostalgia in their eyes. The scene reflected in the silver mirror was their youth, a youth that they could not forget even after decades.

After about half a minute, the drinkers came to their senses and left their original seats to sit in front of the silver mirror. Those who couldn't sit in the back stood up to watch. Taklot and Malcolm were a little slow and could only stand in the back row.

At this moment, the silver-white mist in the mirror surged and overflowed, gradually occupying the entire mirror, filling the view of all the drinkers, as if they were also in the stands of the Quidditch field, and the cheers around them made the atmosphere gradually become lively.

"I will commentate on today's match, and first let's look at the players from both teams.

"The Gryffindor lineup has undergone major changes. Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell have been promoted from substitutes to regulars. Freshman Harry Potter was specially recruited because of his outstanding flying talent, becoming the youngest Seeker in history. Can he help Gryffindor achieve victory? Let us wait and see!"

When the boy's name was heard, the pub immediately began to buzz with discussion.

Malcolm, who graduated from Gryffindor, was even more proud. He couldn't help but pump his fist and cheer, and took a sip of mead happily.

"The Slytherin team remains unchanged, retaining the same lineup from last year. Having already won the House Cup for five consecutive years, can they continue their winning streak..."

With a stable lineup, strong strength and a record to check, the Slytherin team always has a greater chance of winning.

Tucklot raised his eyebrows, raised his glass and nodded to his next-door neighbor, took a sip, and a sarcastic smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, showing the style of a Slytherin.

Malcolm gritted his teeth and took another big gulp of wine. When he found that the glass was empty, he waved to the female owner of the tavern for another drink.

Ms. Rosmerta came over with a wine jug, filled the glasses and walked towards the other guests without saying a word, but with a smile on her face.

In just a few minutes, before the competition officially started, more than a dozen glasses of mead were sold, and many customers were already asking for more. It seemed that they were ready to drink to their heart's content!

Business is booming!

Madam Hooch blew her silver whistle, and fifteen brooms took off into the air.

The lively atmosphere in the pub became boiling again.

"The Quaffle was immediately snatched up by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what a brilliant Chaser she is, and very attractive too..."

"Jordan!"

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"..."

Lee Jordan was scolded by the professor for his unprofessional commentary, and a low laugh rang out in the pub. Many drinkers recognized Professor McGonagall's voice. This episode not only did not affect their interest in watching the game, but instead evoked memories of their student days, and the joking laughter was filled with nostalgia.

So young...

Taklot and Malcolm couldn't help but smile, but when they noticed each other's smiles, they immediately frowned, snorted coldly, and each drank a sip of mead.

It tastes sweet, but not as refreshing as beer.

"A great pass, and the ball goes to Johnson again!

"Oops! The Slytherins have taken the Quaffle and Marcus Flint has it and he's like a hawk. Is he going to score? No!"

"Gryffindor keeper Wood has snatched the ball away. Brilliant! Now it's Gryffindor's turn to take the ball, with Katie Bell darting swiftly around Flint!"

"The Quaffle was snatched away by Slytherin's Derry Ampsey, but he was knocked down by another Bludger! Well done, Fred or George! The Weasley twins are so hard to tell apart..."

As Li's commentary continued, the battle situation in the silver mirror changed repeatedly. The players pulled and tugged at each other, and the drinkers were concentrating, their hearts also being pulled and beaten. They could never drink enough of the wine in the glass, and no matter how much they drank, it never felt refreshing enough.

Malcolm became anxious as he watched Gryffindor's attacks being blocked several times. Unfortunately, the Slytherin team members were all tall and strong, and they exerted more pressure than the thin players of his own college.

On that November winter night, he actually felt thirsty. Taking advantage of a break in his running, he tugged at his collar and shouted, "Ma'am! Give me a cold beer!"

The beer poured into the glass, a layer of white foam rose, and cold water vapor spread out.

At this moment, the young boy's hoarse cheer came from the silver mirror: "Gryffindor scored!"

"!!"

Malcolm felt a surge of heat rising from within him, his entire body beginning to heat up. He picked up his beer and drank half a glass. His chest felt clear and cool, and he couldn't help but shout, "Hurray! Long live Gryffindor!"

Look at the gloomy face of the Slytherin graduate next door. What does it mean to be physically and mentally relaxed?

This is called physical and mental relaxation!

"Ms. Rosmerta, another cold beer, and one for him too! Yes, that's Taclot! It's my treat!"

"..."

Taklot clenched his fists and gnashed his teeth, wishing he could shove the beer glass up the man's butt, or get into the mirror, ride on the broom and go on stage himself.

But no matter how angry he was, he could not change the situation of the game. It was a fact that Gryffindor scored first, so he could only sip the cold beer in anger.

Tasteless.

Also ice gums.

The other guests were also excited about the goal and replaced their butterbeer and mead with more refreshing ice beer. The pub was filled with refreshing sighs, as if they had returned to the hottest month of summer.

The Snake Academy players in the mirror seemed to be annoyed by being robbed of the points, and their attack became more ferocious. They relied on their physical advantage to charge recklessly, constantly disrupting Gryffindor's coordination.

"The Quaffle was snatched by Slytherin!

“Flint almost ran into the twins!

"Drian Pusey sprints towards the goalpost..."

After five minutes of long battle for the ball, Slytherin launched a fierce attack.

"Slytherin score!"

"Glory to Slytherin!"

Taklot roared in a low voice, then drank the entire glass of ice beer in one gulp, instantly releasing all his depression and feeling refreshed.

He turned to look to the side and shouted sharply, "Speak! Malcolm, speak! Gryffindor! Speak!"

“…” Malcolm sipped his cold beer silently.

"Ma'am! Another cold beer for Malcolm, with ice! It's my treat!"

Over the next hour, both teams continued to score.