Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God - Vol 7 Chapter 34

“I only have two words to tell you.”

When the sorting ceremony was over and Professor McGonagall had read the last name, Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, stood up.

He looked at all the classmates with a smile, opened his arms, made a welcoming gesture, and his deep voice echoed in the auditorium.

“Eat it!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Ron and Harry cheered loudly, holding up their knives and forks, as they watched the empty dishes suddenly fill up magically with food.

Nick, who was almost headless, watched sadly as Ron and the others put food on their plates. As a ghost, he couldn’t taste these delicacies.

“Ah, it’s much better now,” Harry said indifferently, shoving a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

“Yeah, yeah!” Ron nodded yes.

“You know, you’re lucky, tonight’s banquet almost went to waste,” Nick said, almost headless. “There was a mess in the kitchen earlier.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Neville asked with a big steak in his mouth.

“Of course Peeves is making trouble.”

Nick said, shaking his head, which shook his head dangerously—he hurriedly pulled the wheel collar up a little to protect his neck.

“He’s arguing about that again, you know, he wants to go to a banquet… alas, that’s impossible, you know his ghostly virtues, he’s completely uneducated, and he throws things around when he sees something to eat.

We had a ghost meeting, and the fat friar wanted to give him the chance, but Barrow the Blood was adamantly disagreeing, and I think he was wise to do so. ”

Barrow the Blood is the ghost of Slytherin, a thin, taciturn ghost.

He was covered in silver bloodstains, foreshadowing the horrors of his death.

Of all the ghosts at Hogwarts, only he can really control Peeves.

“No wonder we thought Peeves was mad about something,” said Ron curiously. “What was he doing in the kitchen?”

“Oh, same thing,” Nick said, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s a big mess. It’s a mess. Pots and pans are thrown everywhere, the whole kitchen is flooded with soup, and the house-elves are scared. There are no gods.”

“There are house-elves here too?” Hermione, who was drinking pumpkin juice, suddenly asked loudly, “Just at Hogwarts?”

“It goes without saying,” Nick, who was almost headless, was a little surprised by her question, “isn’t that obvious, I don’t believe there are as many house-elves in any house in the UK, there are more than a hundred of them here. Woolen cloth.”

“But I’ve never seen one!” said Hermione.

“Oh, they rarely leave the kitchen during the day, don’t they?” Nick said.

“Usually come out at night to clean up… look after the stove or something… I mean, you shouldn’t see them, right?

The mark of a good house-elf is that you don’t even know it exists, right? ”

Hermione’s eyes widened, as if that was something extraordinary.

“Then do they get paid?”

In desperation, she even knocked over the goblet she was holding, and the pumpkin juice kept pouring on the tablecloth. The white linen was dyed an orange-yellow, several feet long, but she ignored it.

She asked, “Do they have vacation time? Also, do they have sick leave, stipends, all that?”

Nick was amused by her words, his wheel-shaped wrinkled collar was crooked, his head almost rolled off, and hung there swayingly by the dead skin and muscles that were still attached by an inch or two.

“Sick leave and stipends?” He put his head back on his neck and secured it with a wheel wrinkle. “House elves don’t need sick leave and stipends!”

Clark secretly said badly. Ever since she saw Winky’s tragic experience at the last Quidditch World Cup, her sympathetic girly heart began to overflow, and she had sympathy and pity for the creatures like house-elves.

For some time now, she has been asking Clark about them every once in a while.

Especially when Harry inadvertently slipped his tongue and let her know that there were house-elves in the Clarks castle too.

She tirelessly inquired about the treatment of Clark’s house-elves, and learned about their living conditions in the magical world.

As a middle-class child who grew up in Western Muggle society and received an equal education for everyone, Hermione certainly couldn’t understand the backward slavery system in the wizarding world.

Yes, she thinks wizards are enslaving house-elves in the same way that white people enslaved black people.

So the kind-hearted she thought that she had to do something for the house elves.

Of course, in Clark’s view, Hermione’s ideas cannot be said to be wrong, after all, it reflects her kindness, but her thinking is still too simple and one-sided.

Even though she studied at Hogwarts for three years, she still likes to look at the wizarding world with the “normal” thinking and eyes of Muggles.

Like this time, after hearing that Hogwarts has house-elves too, and serving them for free, Hermione looks down at the barely touched food on her plate, then puts the knife and fork on the plate , pushed the plate away.

“Oh, forgive me.”

Ron said he accidentally sprayed some bits of Yorkshire pudding onto Harry.

“Slave labor,” Hermione said, breathing heavily. “That’s how this meal came about. Slave labor!”

She refused to take another bite.

Clark sighed helplessly, but that didn’t stop him from putting a piece of beef in his mouth, “You starve yourself to death, and you won’t get them sick leave!”

“But every mouthful of steak we ate, every bite of food we ate had the blood and sweat of house-elves,” Hermione argued angrily.

“No! No! No! These are just the success of their labor, not the blood and sweat of some house-elves. The taste of wizards is not so heavy.”

Ron couldn’t help nodding at Clark’s words.

At this moment, there was a sound of thunder outside the castle, making the glass windows rattle, and a flash of lightning flashed across the hazy ceiling, illuminating the golden plate in front of them.

The rest of the food on the plate disappeared, and in the blink of an eye it was filled with sweet desserts.

“Hermione, look at this chocolate lava cake!” said Ron, deliberately bringing the fragrant pie in front of the two of them. “Raisin pudding, apple pie, and…”

Hermione glared at him, and that glance reminded him of Professor McGonagall, and Ron immediately refrained.

“Hermione, as a mage, you use ‘normal’ thinking to judge the thoughts of magical creatures. This is a taboo in the field of occultism.”

Clark said quietly.

“As for the house-elves, in addition to “History of Magic” and “Protection of Fantastic Creatures” related to them, I suggest that you also read the folklore materials of the Muggle world.

Maybe from there, you can learn to look at this from a more mature, more ‘magical’ perspective. ”

His words silenced Hermione.

Rationally, Hermione, who maintained absolute trust in Clark, felt that since he said so, it must be justified.

But emotionally speaking, she really couldn’t look at this issue calmly.

Fortunately, Ginny suddenly interrupted and diverted their attention.

“Why don’t you see a new teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts?” Ginny asked, looking at the teacher’s chair not far away.

None of their Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers have stayed for more than two semesters. So far, among the teachers Clark has experienced, Professor Lupin is the best. Unfortunately, he also suffered from his own health last year. Resigned.

Harry scanned the staff desk to and fro, and there was no doubt that none of the faces were new.

“Maybe they can’t find anyone!” Ron joked over dessert.

Clark also looked up at the staff desk:

Professor Flitwick, who taught them Charms, was the head of Ravenclaw House, and was sitting on a pile of soft cushions, but he just happened to stick his head above the table.

Beside him was the herbal teacher, Professor Sprout. She had put down her spoon and was talking to Professor Sinista from the Department of Astronomy.

As for Professor Sinista’s other side, there was a sallow-faced, hooked-nosed, greasy-haired potions teacher, Snape, who was the dean of Slytherin College.

However, apart from the students of Slytherin, the students of the other three colleges did not have a good image of him.

On the other side of Snape was Professor McGonagall, the dean of Clark’s Gryffindor House.

Another seat, that is, in the middle of the table, sits Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

His flowing silver hair and beard gleamed in the candlelight, and his rich dark green robe was embroidered with many stars and moons.

Professor Dumbledore’s slender fingers were touching, his chin resting on the tips of the fingers.

At this moment, he didn’t pay attention to the favorite sweets in front of him. Instead, he looked at the ceiling above through the half-moon-shaped lenses, as if he was lost in thought.

Clark also cast his gaze to the ceiling, which was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it so stormy.

Black and purple clouds tumbled above, and a fork of lightning streaked across the ceiling as another thunder rumbled outside.

On the first day of school, I encountered such bad weather, and I don’t know if this is a harbinger of the future.

However, no matter how bad the weather is, it seems that it can’t stop Harry and the others from their determination to become cooks.

Soon all the desserts in front of them were swept away, and the last bits of crumbs left on the plate were gone.

Under the influence of magic, the plate was clean and shiny again, when Albus Dumbledore stood up again.

The buzzing in the hall suddenly stopped, and only the pounding of the wind and heavy rain could be heard.

“Okay!” Dumbledore looked at everyone with a smile and said, “Now that we have all eaten and drank enough, I must ask everyone’s attention again, and I have a few announcements to announce.”

He started the routine notification of the ban on dangerous goods every year at the beginning of the school year. The only difference from previous years is that many of the dangerous goods banned this year are prank products of George and Fred.

However, because the business has just started, the two of them are currently only in small-scale test sales and have not yet mass-produced.

Because of this, most of their new products are not yet on that banned list.

“As before, I want to remind everyone that the forbidden forest on the other side of the venue is not allowed for students to enter, and Hogsmeade Village, all students under the third grade are not allowed to visit.”

“As for Yanglongchang Park…” Dumbledore paused, “The park is still being repaired…”

The students below let out a wailing sound, and the previous news that students under the third grade could not visit Hogsmeade Village did not cause such a big reaction.

“I also regret to inform you that there will be no House Cup Quidditch this year,” he continued.

“What?” Harry gasped in surprise.

He turned his head to look at his Quidditch teammates, Fred and George, who both gaped and stared at Dumbledore silently, as if speechless in surprise.

Dumbledore continued: “This is because a large event will start in October and continue throughout the school year, taking up a lot of the teachers’ time and energy.”

Harry and others suddenly realized that the school did not hold the House Cup Quidditch because of what Clark said.

“–but I’m sure you’ll all have a lot of fun out of it. I’m very happy to announce that UU reading www.uukanshu.com is at Hogwarts this year–”

Just then, in a deafening roar of thunder, the door to the auditorium was slammed open from the outside by a force of violence.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning on a long cane and wrapped in a black travel cloak.

He was obviously just a violent intruder, but his whole body revealed a domineering temperament that I should be standing here.

Everyone in the auditorium turned their heads to look at him suspiciously. Suddenly, a fork-shaped lightning flashed across the ceiling, and some timid girls gasped.

The incandescent lightning illuminated the man’s face so vividly that it was no wonder that the little girls were afraid. Even in Clark’s eyes, this face could be regarded as terrifying.

It’s like it was carved on a piece of rotten wood, and the carver has only a concept of what a human face should look like, and he is not very good at using a carving knife.

Every inch of the skin on that face seemed to be scarred, the mouth was like a wide, askew, and the place where the nose should have been bulged was missing.

And the most terrifying thing about this man is his eyes.

One of his eyes was small, black, and sparkling; the other was large, round like a coin, and a vivid bright blue.

Not only that, the blue eye was still moving without blinking, turning up and down, left and right, completely irrelevant to the normal eye.

Later, when the blue eyeball rolled over, it actually got into the man’s head, so that everyone could only see a big white eyeball.

“Ah!” Some little girls screamed in fright.

Hermione also frowned, leaning sideways and whispering, “Who is he?”

“Mad-Eye Moody!” Clark replied. “Alastor Moody, the best Auror ever in England.”