Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

Chapter 85 The shadow of being ruled by the score-slashing madman

Boom boom

Lupine was preparing lessons for the upcoming teaching in his office. His desk was full of various books, most of which were three-finger-thick large data sets.

Suddenly, two light knocks came from outside the door.

Who is it? he asked, looking up.

Good evening, Professor Lupine! I'm Maca McClain.

Lupine froze for a moment.

To be honest, he was a bit at a loss as to how to deal with this particular student.

Since Dumbledore invited him to teach at Hogwarts, he had a general understanding of the students he was going to contact - after all, this is a rare and serious job.

You know, it is too difficult for a werewolf to find a suitable job. Because of this, he has no shortage of talents, but he has been living in poverty and hiding in Tibet.

Lupine cherished this job very much.

But Maca, a child, made him a little helpless.

If Maca was just an ordinary genius, Lupine wouldn't have any worries about it. It would be better to say that he is happy before it's too late!

But what this student showed cannot be explained by just using the word genius.

It can be said that Lupine has begun to worry about whether he can hide his identity as a werewolf in front of this child. If found out... oh, that would be unimaginably bad!

He really didn't want to see the frightened faces of those lovely children when they learned their identities.

The eyes that look like looking at a monster really don't match the innocent faces of the children - he never wants to see it a second time.

And, if it's maca instead...

The kid might have pulled out his wand without hesitation and smacked me in the face - that's what he did with the dementors. Lupine couldn't help a wry smile.

...Well, please come in.

He hesitated for a moment, but finally answered.

The door was opened, and the child's face was still calm, as if he would not be too surprised no matter what happened, it was hard to imagine that it was a childish face.

Good evening, Professor Lupine. Maca squeezed out a smile, but he didn't know that his smile looked very intrusive, and it would be better not to smile.

Good evening, come to see me so late, what can you do? Lupine also smiled and asked.

Oh, yes, I'm here to deliver something to you.

As Maca said, he took out the potion bottle containing the wolfsbane potion, and gently placed it on top of the pile of books on Lupine's desk—there was no more space on the desk, so he could only do this .

But Lupine looked at the small potion bottle, and his smile froze.

Uh, oh...Did Professor Snape ask you to send it to me? Lupine said dryly, Thank you, sorry for the trouble.

Yes, that's right, Maca nodded and said, I will send you the potions every month from now on.

Damn slug! Lupine couldn't help cursing inwardly, but he had to maintain an embarrassing smile on his face.

Oh—thank you! But I think that might not be the right thing to do, I'll be with snot... I mean, Professor Snape, I'll let him bring it over himself, without bothering you.

No trouble, Maca spread his hands and said, Actually, Professor, I prepare the monthly wolfbane potion, and it doesn't take much time to deliver it...

Before Maca finished speaking, Lupine's face froze completely.

Oh—cough, last month...was it too? Lupine said awkwardly with a complicated expression on his face.

Yes,

Maca nodded, Don't worry, professor... I will keep this secret for you, don't worry.

Lupine nodded automatically, then shook his head immediately.

Thank you...but...what about you? He couldn't help asking, You don't have any... other ideas about this matter?

Other ideas? Maca repeated his words, and immediately understood what he meant.

Oh, it's nothing, he shrugged. In my opinion, the change of bloodline is even a manifestation of an advantage. For example, Merlin - he has studied the bloodline transformation of wizards. This is a very Interesting study of magic.

But... Lupine opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say, Well, well...thank you.

Relax, Professor. Maca said, Your course is very good, and everyone likes it very much. I believe that even if things are exposed, at least among most students, their impression of the professor will not change much .”

I hope... Lupine sighed, then shook his head resolutely. No, it's better not to be exposed.

Then, I'll go back to the common room first, good night professor.

Good night, Mr. McLean— Lupine watched Maca leave his office calmly, and when the door closed, he couldn't help adding, And... thank you.

...

Recently, Harry has been practicing Quidditch - three times a week, no less.

It was getting colder and wetter, and the nights were getting darker. But no amount of mud, wind or rain could shake Harry's rosy vision: that his team would eventually win that giant silver Quidditch cup.

This is our last chance to win the Quidditch Cup - my last chance, Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood told his teammates, striding up and down in front of them, this year I'm leaving school at the end of the year ... I won't be able to play here again.

Gryffindor hasn't won in seven years now. Well, we've had a lot of bad luck in the past - got injured - and then canceled the tournament last year... Wood swallowed, as if the memory It still made him feel stuck in his throat, But we also know that we have the title of the best team in our school!

He said, clenched a fist with one hand and knocked on the other, his eyes flashing with the old frenzy again.

We have three of the best Chasers.

Wood pointed at Alias ​​Pinnett, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell in turn.

We've got two undefeated hitters.

Stop talking about Oliver, you're embarrassing us, said Fred and George, the always funny Weasleys, together, pretending to blush.

We also have a Seeker who always wins! said Wood lowly, glaring at Harry with furious pride.

And me, he added, as an afterthought.

We thought you were all right, Oliver, said George.

Excellent goalkeeper, Fred said.

The point is, continued Wood, striding up and down again, still no Maca McClain this year! Yes! No Maca McClain!

Oh—don't mention that score-splitting maniac, don't mention him— Fred and George said in unison.

The other team members also looked terrified.

It can be said that in the last semester, Maca's dominating performance on the court really made the team members of the other three colleges lose confidence.

As if as long as that guy was around, it would be impossible for the Quidditch Silver Cup to move. The title of Score Slasher was spread among various teams from then on.

Oliver, this is our year! No McClain! said Fred.

We'll win, Oliver! No McClain! Angelina said.

Sure, Harry added weakly, well, no Ma—I mean, no McLean—

One night, the night had already quietly fallen, and Harry ended the day's hard training again.

He was making his way to the Gryffindor common room, feeling cold and stiff, but pleased with how practice was going.

As Harry slipped through the hole behind the Fat Lady's portrait, he found the common room buzzing with excitement.

What happened? he asked Ron and Hermione.

The two were sitting in the best two seats by the fireplace, comparing a few star charts from astronomy class.

The first Hogsmeade weekend, said Ron, pointing to a notice on the old notice board, end of October, Hallow's Eve.

That's great, said Fred, who had followed Harry into the hole in the portrait. I've got to stop by Zuko's, I'm running out of stink bombs.

Harry plopped down on a chair next to Ron, his excitement gradually subsided, and Hermione seemed to read his mind.

Harry, I bet you'll be there next time, she said. They'll catch Blake pretty soon—he's been seen somewhere already.

Black won't be that stupid, he won't be delusional about doing anything in Hogsmeade, said Ron. Ask Professor McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry. Don't know next time. When are you going to—”

Ron! said Hermione, frowning, Harry should have stayed at school—

He can't be the only third year staying, argued Ron, ask McGonagall, go, Harry—

Yeah, I think I'll ask. Harry seemed determined.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but then her cat, Crookshanks, jumped briskly into her lap with a large dead spider in its mouth.

Does it have to eat in front of us? growled Ron.

Smart Crookshanks, did you catch it yourself? Hermione ignored Ron who was yelling.

She lowered her head and looked at Crookshanks tenderly, as if she thought it was cute to eat a spider.

Crookshanks chewed the spider slowly, its yellow eyes fixed on Ron.

Just let it stay there, please, said Ron angrily, and went off to get the horoscope chart again. Spotters is sleeping in my bag!

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