Speaking of which, the students were very anxious when it came to choosing courses.
For instance, the witches and wizards of Neville Longbottom's household had written to him, offering him a variety of suggestions on the subject of his choice of courses.
This made Neville very nervous. He sat there looking at the list of courses, sticking his tongue out and asking if they thought that arithmetic and divination sounded more difficult than ancient magic words.
Dean and Harry grew up around Muggles, so they didn't understand anything. He closed his eyes and used his wand to randomly point to the list. Whichever course he pointed to, he chose that course.
Hermione did not listen to anyone's advice and signed all the courses.
Percy Weasley was very eager to teach Harry by example.
"It depends on where you want to go, Harry," he said.
"You have to plan for the future early, so I recommend divination.
People say that it is stupid to choose Muggle for research, but I personally think that Wizard should have a comprehensive and thorough understanding of the non-magical society, especially if they want to engage in work closely related to Muggle. Look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle's affairs all the time.
My brother Charlie has always liked to be outdoors, so he chose conservation and magical biology.
Play to your strengths, Harry. "
But Harry felt that the only thing he was really good at was Quidditch.
So in the end, he chose the same few new courses as Ron. He felt that if these courses were difficult to learn, at least there would be someone willing to help him in a friendly way.
The next Quidditch game of Gryffindor's team was against Hufflepuff's team, which made Cedric a little confused.
Because the students were showing signs of being actors, everyone wanted Gryffindor to win, and they were happy every day during training, but he still hoped that his team could practice well.
After all … too much was as bad as not enough.
Unlike Hufflepuff, Wood insisted that the team train after dinner every day, so Harry had little time to do other than training and completing homework.
However, the training was getting better and better, or at least they were not getting wet.
On the night before Saturday's game, when he went to the dormitory to put down his flying broom, he felt that Gryffindor had never been more certain of winning the Quidditch Cup.
But his happy mood didn't last long. As soon as he arrived at the dormitory, he saw a panic-stricken Neville Longbottom.
"Harry … I don't know who did it, I just found out …"
Neville looked at Harry in horror and threw open the door.
The contents of Harry's suitcase had been thrown everywhere. His clothes lay crumpled on the floor. The sheets had been ripped from his bed. The drawers of the bedside table had been pulled open and their contents scattered across the mattress.
Harry walked over to the bed with his mouth wide open, stepping on some pages that had fallen out of Walking with Trolls.
As he and Neville put the sheets back on the bed, Ron joined them.
"What is it, Harry?"
"I don't know."
Harry shook his head. Ron lowered his head and carefully examined Harry's clothes, only to find that all the pockets had been turned outside.
"Someone is looking for something," Ron said. "Is there anything missing?"
Harry began to pick up his things and throw them back into the suitcase one by one.
When he threw in the last book of Lohat's, he realized that something was missing.
"Liddell's diary is missing," he said to Ron in a low voice.
"What?"
Harry turned his head in the direction of the dormitory door, and Ron followed him out.
They hurried downstairs and returned to the Gryffindor common room. There was no one there — only Hermione was sitting alone, reading a book called A Simple Introduction to Ancient Magic.
She was stunned when she heard the news.
"But — only Gryffindor can steal it — no one else knows our password …"
…
…
They woke up early the next morning. The weather was fine, the sun was shining, and a pleasant breeze was blowing gently.
"Perfect weather for a Quidditch game!"
Wood said enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, adding many scrambled eggs to each player's plate.
"Pull yourself together, Harry. You need a good breakfast."
Harry kept looking at the crowded Gryffindor table, wondering if the new owner of Liddell's diary was right in front of him.
Hermione urged him to report the theft to the school, but Harry did not want to do so, because then he would have to tell the teacher the whole story of the diary and how many people knew why Hagrid was expelled fifty years ago.
He did not want to be the one who started the whole thing again.
Harry left the hall with Ron and Hermione to pack up his things for the game. At this time, there was a very heavy worry in his already troubled mind.
Because just as he stepped on the marble stairs, he suddenly heard the voice again. "This time I'm going to kill … Let me rip … Let me rip …"
He shouted, and Ron and Hermione jumped away from him in horror.
"That voice!" Harry said, turning his head. "I just heard it again — did you hear it?"
Hermione patted her head. "I suddenly understood something. I need to go to the library!"
She hurried away and went upstairs.
"What did she understand?"
Harry said, flustered, still looking around to find out where the voice had come from.
"I don't know," Ron said, shaking his head.
"But why did she go to the library?"
"Because it's Hermione's way," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders. "She goes to the library when she's in doubt."
Harry stood hesitantly, trying to catch the voice again, but by this time the people were pouring out of the hall, talking and laughing loudly behind him, ready to go through the front door to the Quidditch pitch.
"You'd better hurry," Ron said. "It's almost eleven — the game."
Harry hurried to Gryffindor Tower, picked up his Nimbus 2000, and joined the throng of people crossing the pitch. But his mind was still in the castle, searching for the disembodied voice.
As he put on his scarlet robe in the locker room, the only thing he felt was that everyone was watching the game outside.
The players walked towards the field amidst thunderous cheers. Oliver Wood leapt into the air and flew around the goalpost as a warm-up. Mrs Hutch let the ball out.
The Hufflepuff team, in their pale yellow suits, were huddled together, discussing tactics in the last minute.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
