Harry's group was the second group to come out, but not all of the first group were able to come out safely.
A Hufflepuff girl had fallen behind due to exhaustion in the "snowstorm" dream and was disqualified.
Hermione and the others were in a heavy mood when they came out. They only felt better when they found out that the girl had been sent directly to the Medic Wing after being disqualified.
When all eight groups came out,
The dream in Activity Room 321 immediately disappeared.
The large classroom was filled with students who were in a sorry state. There were quite a few people like Harry who had injured a leg or an arm.
Kamia and Quirrell first cast a simple healing spell on the injured students.
Then, Logan and Jason dismissed them. Those who needed to be healed were treated, and those who needed to rest were rested.
Harry's injuries were not serious.
Madam Pomfrey cleaned his wounds.
Then, she gave him a bottle of potion and told him to apply it himself. Then, she went to take care of the others. The Medic Wing had been particularly lively these two days.
This made Madam Pomfrey's expression particularly ugly.
Poor Seamus, who had been covered in smelly saliva in Professor Kamia's dream, pitifully came to Madam Pomfrey for help.
In the end, he was told, "Oh,
Mr. Finnegan,
I'm crowded with bleeding children. If you really need help, can you go buy a bottle of perfume? "
In fact, the most irritated one was not Madam Pomfrey, but Snape. Because the various potions in the Medic Wing were basically made by Snape, and the practical training had greatly increased his workload. Now, Snape's "extra-curricular tutoring" for Harry had become: cutting potion ingredients, grinding potion ingredients, pinching potion ingredients …
"Professor Snape, I still have homework to do!" Harry walked over to his little table and found a whole basket of daffodil roots. On the table was a note on which was written in a wild script: GRIND TO POWDER.
Snape was brewing potions in two crucibles on the other side of the experiment table. He habitually put his face close to the crucibles, and the mist made his hair greasy. The Potions Professor did not look up when he heard Potter's protest. He just snorted and said, "If our savior is really so busy, he shouldn't be at Quidditch training ground at four o 'clock in the afternoon to show off his skills."
"You saw it?" Harry blurted out, then covered his mouth and widened his eyes.
Snape ignored him and pointed at the basket of potion ingredients. Harry could only sullenly sit down and grind the immortal root.
But children were not people who could work quietly, especially when doing such mechanical work that did not require much attention. He was especially prone to daydreaming. Snape was also very clear about this characteristic of Potter's. See, in five minutes, Potter would definitely come to talk to him.
"Professor …" Harry found that this was already his second basket of daffodil roots this week. "Are we going to make so much Deathwater?"
Snape slowly bottled the painkillers that had been boiled. "I think the popular professors will continue to work hard to increase my workload."
What he meant was that they should prepare some commonly used potions while they had more free time. Harry's attention was elsewhere. "By the way, Professor, why don't you participate in the dream construction?"
Without waiting for Snape to speak, Harry thought of a reasonable answer. "Oh no, it must be Hard Mode that's only suitable for senior students."
"Actually …" Snape was very dissatisfied with the child's half-hearted 'work'. He came over and knocked Harry on the head. "My nightmare is now a chattering Potter. This is too easy for others to deal with, isn't it?"
Harry shrunk his head and waited for Snape to walk back to the lab bench with satisfaction before he suddenly said, "Professor Snape still thinks of me even in his dreams. I'm really flattered."
Without a doubt, today's Potter was also thrown out of the cellar by Professor Snape with a big bump on his head.
Back in Gryffindor's lounge, Harry found that it was particularly lively today. Everyone seemed to be happily gathered together … Oh, sharing snacks?
"Ron?" Harry found his good friend and gave him a push. "What are you guys doing?"
Ron stuffed a bag of red stuff into Harry's hand. "Here, your share."
Harry: (⊙ o ⊙)
"Qiu Zhang sent it over today. She heard that many people were scared by her dream, so she sent a box of snacks to apologize. There are snacks for all four schools!" Ron was a little excited, not sure if it was because of the snacks or the snacks from the beautiful senior. "Qiu Zhang said that this is her most classic snack in the morning — spicy sticks!"
Harry sniffed the bag of spicy sticks and finally knew what the mysterious fragrance he had smelled when he came out of the cellar was.
Speaking of which, several teams were trapped in the dream for a long time. In a later class, with the help of Professor Quirrell, Logan specially played and commented on the videos of the eight teams in the maze. Only then did Harry and the others know that the black squares on the map would move randomly, and each team would only experience three dreams. What they encountered were relatively easy levels, except for the "sun rain." At least, they did not have to be chased by hundreds of alpacas, nor did they have to encounter horned ogres.
Logan's evaluation of their performance in the maze was relatively average. "You guys acted separately, which meant that you wasted one level less time, and you were not the first team to come out. Besides, if it weren't for a little bit of luck, Potter's personal heroism would have deducted ten points from you guys. "But in the end, he still affirmed," But in the end, it's still a relatively cooperative team. "Based on Logan's usual attitude, this was a rare compliment.
Harry sat with his friends and ate spicy sticks while chatting for a while about the practical training class. He had to go back to do his homework — he really still owed the History of Magic homework. Speaking of homework...
"Ron, where's Hermione?" He wanted to borrow Hermione's homework to "take a look", but he found that Hermione was not in the lounge. Did she go to the library again? Looking at the time, it should be time for Mrs. Pingsi to get off work.
Ron said, "No, when I came back in the afternoon, I saw her chatting with the twins. They seemed to be working on something together."
What could Hermione and the twins be working on? Harry only knew that Miss Know-It-All would work on projects with Percy, and that she was addicted to reading with Jean Grey. She was getting thinner day by day.
But since Hermione was not around, he had to do his own homework. Harry opened the History of Magic and found the paragraph about the fairy rebellion. He copied and corrected half of it, and finally finished his homework in one night.
In the next few weeks, the Hogwarts seemed to be bustling with activity. On one hand, the practical training class was slowly on the right track with the cooperation of the teachers of the three schools. On the other hand, it was the arrival of spring.
Harry always felt that the water in the Black Lake had thawed when he was not paying attention. Although the wind was still cold, and there was still snow in some dark corners, some fluffy green could already be seen on some branches. These subtle changes quietly affected the atmosphere in the Hogwarts. It seemed that everyone walking in the castle was lighter. Harry even saw Filch smiling and holding Mrs. Loris out to bask in the sun.
One afternoon, Harry, who had no class, was playing chess with Peter and Colo in the Union Building when he suddenly saw Kamia leading a group of students out of the castle and sitting on the ground by the Black Lake.
"What is Professor Kamia doing?" Under the influence of Hermione, Harry was more or less curious about Professor Kamia. He asked Spiderman and Timeline to go and have a look.
Kamia, however, took the students out to feel the nature. "It's rare that the weather is so good. Isn't it a pity that you don't come out to bask in the sun? Harry, do you want to sit together? "
The weather was really good today. The sun was warm, and there was no east wind that always messed up hair. The wide Black Lake sparkled in the sun. The three felt comfortable standing for a while and sat down among the third-year students.
Harry borrowed a lecture note from a senior from Ravenclaw and looked at it with Peter and Colo. He found that the content of Kamia's class was a poem by Baudelaire: Rotten Corpse.
The title and content startled Harry, but Kamia read it slowly in her slightly hoarse voice. All the students listened quietly. "My dear, think of what we have seen, how gentle the summer morning was; At the corner of the path, an ugly rotten corpse lay on a bed of gravel … Yes, you will be like this, oh beautiful queen …"
This was the first time Harry had heard Kamia recite it in person, and the first time he noticed that the literature teacher was really immersed in the text. Her eyes were really shining, and her slightly low voice was full of emotion. "… Then — my beauty, tell the maggots that eat you like kissing: Though my love has disintegrated, I remember its form and sacred essence!"
Kamia told Harry that this was a poem that praised love and love. Baudelaire was swearing to his lover that his love would not be destroyed by the destruction of the body, that it would never disintegrate, and that it was beyond material — not to mention appearance, age, and gender.
"Children, it's about time you start to appreciate the beauty of love, right?" Kamia closed the lecture notes and took out some snacks from her wizard hat to distribute to the students. She then asked jokingly, "Or has it already started?"
Most of the students were thirteen or fourteen years old, and they all blushed slightly at the female professor's question. A few of the bolder ones even nodded. Harry was the only one in the crowd. I'm the only one who's still a baby!
"As a married old hag," Kamia said, "I'd like to hear your attitude towards love. Rita, let's start with you. How about you share your favorite poem with us? "
Rita opened her notebook naturally. "My distant, secret, inviolable rose …"
After Rita shared her favorite poem and feelings, the next student took over. So Harry guessed that this was not the first time they had done this, and these students should have prepared their own words. In just half an hour, he had listened to several poems by Shelley and Yeats. While listening, the child was also thinking about what to do when it was his turn later. He wasn't prepared …
Harry gradually fell into a daze, but in fact, Kamia did not make things difficult for him. She just smiled at the three students. "So, do you want to say something?"
Koro shook his head repeatedly. Peter patted his little brother and smiled. "Let me do it. Although I don't remember the whole poem, and I don't know which poet wrote it, but some of the lines are quite impressive. "
The young superhero scratched his head and gently recited a few simple lines of the poem:
I love you, not only because of your appearance, but also because, when I'm with you, I'm like that.
I love you, because you can summon the truest part of me.
My foolishness, my weakness, almost does not exist in your eyes.
No one else has bothered to go so far. No one else thinks it's too troublesome to find.
So no one has discovered my beauty. So no one has been here.
While Peter was reciting the poem, Koro had been pulling the grass on the ground, but Harry was surprised to notice that his ears suddenly turned red. "Koro, stop pulling. It's not easy to grow …"
"This is Roy Clift's' Love '." Kamia glanced at Peter in particular. "It's a good poem."
Peter chuckled. When no one was paying attention, he quietly pinched Koro's hand beside him and received a roll of the eyes. But later, the two people's hands were pulled together behind their backs where no one else could see.
Hot eyes. Harry, who was closest to them, also turned his head and pretended not to notice. He thought the class was over, but Kamia suddenly saw him and asked, "Where's Harry? Does Harry have any good poems to share? "
"Ahem … Me?" Harry was so frightened that he coughed, but Kamia's smile remained unchanged and was full of sincerity. "Yes, I remember Harry's grades in literature are pretty good."
Then I'm only eleven or twelve years old! Professor, you don't encourage puppy love! Although he was cursing wildly in his heart, Harry still managed to dig out a love poem in his messy mind.
Love, perhaps, has not completely died in my heart.
I hope it won't bother you anymore, and I don't want to make you sad again.
I used to love you silently and without hope.
I endured both shyness and jealousy.
I used to love you so sincerely and so gently.
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.
