"So it seems that I did a good thing?" Draco stroked his chin.
"Yeah, maybe she likes you," Pansy said slightly sourly.
"Ah, do you think the smell here is a bit strong?" Draco decided to change the subject, referring to the unpleasant smell in the carriage.
Pansy immediately noticed the unpleasant smell in the carriage. It was a faint musty smell mixed with the smell of straw, making Pansy feel like she was in a remote countryside in England. The bumps from time to time made her feel a little sick.
"The air is fresh!" Draco waved his wand, improving the smell in the carriage.
It had to be admitted that wizards had a much higher level of convenience in daily life compared to ordinary Muggles. This was a fact.
Draco suddenly felt that his shoulder was leaning against something. It turned out that Pansy had fallen asleep again. She was too tired today and it was no exaggeration to say that she was exhausted.
The carriage continued to roll forward. In front of them were a pair of magnificent cast iron gates. On both sides were many stone pillars. One end had a winged wild boar. Two tall, turbaned dementors stood guard on either side of the gate. But it was dark and there was always a depressing aura. As they passed by, Draco lit up the patronus charm in the carriage again. He was sensitive to the feeling that the two dementors also stepped back in disgust.
"Don't worry, you will soon get what you deserve," Draco clenched his fists and made the final decision on the fate of these inherently evil magical creatures.
The carriage turned onto a sloping lane and the death horse pulling the carriage increased its speed. Many corner towers and towers gradually approached them, and finally the carriage swayed to a stop.
He and Pansy slowly got out of the carriage and walked up the stone steps, past the huge oak door, and then into the deep front hall. In order to take care of Pansy, Draco slowed down as much as possible. As they passed a small door, Draco looked into the hall and saw that it was not particularly bright, as if the magical ceiling had failed.
"I'll take you to Mrs. Pomfrey first," Draco said to Pansy. He saw Pansy's face getting paler and paler. She seemed like she could faint at any moment. It's better to find the school doctor.
"Okay," Pansy nodded obediently.
After Pansy was taken care of, Draco had time to attend the freshman sorting ceremony, but it should be over by now. They had lost a lot of time earlier.
Walking down the stairs and into the auditorium, Draco glanced around. The pointed hats formed a black sea. The faces of the students were illuminated by the candles suspended above the table. As expected, Professor Flitwick was holding the sorting ceremony. As he walked out of the auditorium with an old hat and a triangular stool, it meant that the sorting ceremony was over.
Draco walked to the Slytherin table quietly and swiftly. Many students took off their hats and gestured when they saw him, as a sign of respect. Some freshmen also saluted their senior in the same way. Even though they didn't know why, a few people stood up just to give Draco a seat.
"The charm of prestige," Draco sighed silently, without knowledge of sarcasm or more complicated emotions surging in his heart.
Professor Dumbledore stood up on the stage and prepared to speak, so all the students stopped their whispers.
Professor Dumbledore looked very old, but he still seemed energetic, always giving students and teachers an energetic impression. His hair and beard were several feet long and he wore semi-circular glasses. His nose was quite hooked. In addition to the freshman students, most Hogwarts students respected him, and the freshman students also grew up listening to legends about him.
"Welcome!" said Professor Dumbledore, his beard shining in the candlelight. "Welcome to Hogwarts for the new school year! I have a few words to say to all of you, one of which is very important and serious. I think it's better to get it out of the way before you get distracted by this delicious meal. Let's make it clear."
After that, Dumbledore talked about the dementors stationed outside Hogwarts. Even though he didn't like these evil magical creatures lurking around the school, this was an order from the Ministry of Magic after all. If the ministry fell out, and to maintain harmony on the surface, he had no choice but to endure it.
Therefore, he emphasized the importance of safety and reminded the prefects. He also gave a warning look to a few students who often violated school rules. Percy Weasley stood up and looked around, showing the majesty of a prefect and leaving a deep impression on many students. Dumbledore looked around and saw that no one was speaking, so he cleared his throat and began his next words.
"It's more gratifying," he continued. "This year, I am very happy to welcome two new teachers to our team."
"Professor Lupin has graciously agreed to fill the vacancy in the Defense Against the Dark Arts course."
There was only scattered, unenthusiastic applause from the students. The students in the carriage with him earlier had clapped enthusiastically because Lupin's patron saint curse protected them. Other students don't know about this and judge Lupin based on his appearance, which is shabbier than other well-dressed teachers. Only in terms of neatness can he compete with Professor Sneeze. This has made many students' first impression of him not very good.
Professor Snape has been staring at Lupin along the faculty table with deep, gloomy eyes. His sallow, thin face is filled with distorted expressions, a mixture of abomination and anger. Since there are houses of love and crows, there will also be houses of hate and crows. If Snape hated James the most among the group of four, it's normal for the other three to be jointly hated as a part of the group.
At the time, Lupin was entrusted by Dumbledore as a prefect, but he didn't seem to play much of a role in the relationship between classmates. James and Snape should hate or hate, and the duel should be a duel. Of course, even if this point of negligence is overlooked, the grievances between the two cannot be resolved by simple mediation. Snape wouldn't give Lupin a good face anyway.
"As for the second teacher we appointed," Dumbledore continued, "I regret to inform you that Professor Keitelburn, our Protecting Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year to have more time for his little mischief. However, I am happy to announce that Hagrid has agreed to fill the vacancy in addition to serving as a hunting ground guard."
Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other in surprise. They temporarily set aside their previous unhappiness and applauded enthusiastically. Just a short while ago, Hermione and Ron were still fighting over Crookshanks and Scabbard was arguing about the danger, but now they were all happy for Hagrid and let go of their grudges. As a result, the applause at the Gryffindor table became particularly intense.
"Isn't that big man once accused of being the mastermind behind the murder? How can such a person be a guard, let alone our teacher?" the students at the Slytherin table began to whisper. Dumbledore's reaction was expected.
"Quiet," Dumbledore's voice was unusually loud and full of breath. "During the holiday, I had the honor of inviting Mrs. Maxim, the principal of Boothbatten School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Mr. Karkaroff, the principal of Durmstrang, as notaries. I also invited Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, to judge and rule on the case again. We have finally come to the conclusion that there was another murderer in the case fifty years ago, and Mr. Hagrid is innocent. Soon we will receive his innocent announcement in the Daily Prophet."
"It's clear that this news won't be given a very prominent position," Ron said a little depressingly. His father often complained about certain styles of the Ministry of Magic. This kind of self-slapping information would definitely be placed in the corner and barely take up a page. Ron figured it out right away. In short, the fact that Hagrid's grievances were washed away was a good thing for them.
All of them turned their eyes to Hagrid. He was flushed and staring at his big hands. His smile was hidden in his messy black beard. Hagrid also looked at them and couldn't help grinning even more happily.
Draco could only sigh. Hagrid might not be the best teacher in every aspect, but there was nothing the principal could do about it.
"Well, I think we're done with the important matters," Dumbledore said. "Let's start eating."
The golden plates and wine glasses in front of the students suddenly filled with food and drinks. They were so hungry that they started picking up the food in front of them and eating. There was laughter and the sound of colliding knives and forks in the auditorium. The new teacher might not have satisfied them, and the arrival of the Dementors had cast a shadow over Hogwarts, but the excitement and thrill of the beginning of the school year made them ignore all this for the moment.
Draco felt a little nervous as he headed to class. Even in Professor McGonagall's class, he often did well, but today's class might not be as easy as he expected.
His divination teacher for the day was Sybil Trelawney, a crazy witch who wore glasses that magnified her eyes many times, had many beads and necklaces hanging around her neck, and her arms and hands were full of bracelets and bangles. Ordinary people think that her predictions are unreasonable and hardly ever come true. This is also true. For example, she made some curse predictions when teaching Gryffindor, like what kind of flu would come to cause a temporary suspension of classes and lose her voice. But in fact, her predictions are extremely accurate. The sentence "Thirteen people eating together, and the first person to stand up after the meal will be the first to die" cursed Dumbledore, Sirius, and death with Lupin. It is not an exaggeration to call it the strongest causal weapon. Other major event predictions have not failed.
She is the great-great-granddaughter of the Greek priestess Cassandra Trelawney, whose fate was equally miserable with many predictions that no one believed. Perhaps those whom God cares for will have unspeakable pain, and the Eastern Jigong monk seems to be the same. He is gifted and pays the rest of his life in madness.
Draco can only hope that she stays in a state of confusion and doesn't wake up to see herself and then speak a few words of crow's mouth. It wouldn't be fun.
Leaning on the railing at the top of the first floor, Draco waited for Pansy. She took a morning leave today and only woke up at noon. Draco visited her in the ward and was relieved to find her with a rosy complexion, so they arranged to go to divination class together in the afternoon.
"It seems that boys have big nerves. Our savior is only able to attend the party after a while," Draco thought, considering the differences in thought between men and women and their ability to accept fear.
"Have you been waiting for a long time?" Pansy asked briskly, pulling Draco back to reality from his thoughts, which was beyond Draco's expectations because she wouldn't normally ask this question.
"Of course not, I just arrived," he glanced at the clock and said. "I think we should arrive early for the first class. I heard that this road isn't easy."
Pansy nodded and her attitude became more correct. Not only did she not want to be a burden, she also wanted to help the person she likes as much as she can. The first step should be to correct her attitude towards schoolwork.
They walked up the stairs all the way to the eighth floor. This was an unfamiliar platform with nothing but a large painting on the stone wall. The picture was of a grassland.
Draco seemed to be familiar with the road and led Pansy to a narrow spiral staircase without making any turns. The classroom for their divination class should be upstairs. It was very quiet and it seemed like there was still some time before class.
The two of them climbed the last few steps and arrived at a small platform, but there was no door.
"Draco, look," Pansy said, tugging on Draco's sleeve and pointing to the ceiling with her other hand. There was a round trapdoor on it with a bronze plaque that read "Sybil Trelawney, divination teacher." While Pansy was still thinking about how to get in, the trapdoor suddenly opened and a silver ladder was placed in front of them. Pansy stepped back in surprise.
But Draco had been mentally prepared. "Let's go," he said to Pansy. "I'm a little scared, just follow me."
Strangely enough, after the two of them used it, the ladder automatically retracted, waiting for the next wave of students to arrive.
Pansy looked around and felt that this wasn't a classroom at all, at most it was a mixture of an attic and an old-fashioned teahouse. There were at least twenty small round tables crowded into the room. Around each table were armchairs made of Indian calico and small bulging cushions. Everything was illuminated by a dim scarlet light; the curtains were closed and many lamps were covered with crimson shades. The classroom was so warm that it was depressing. The fireplace was full and a large copper kettle was burning on the fire, filling the room with a dull and greasy fragrance that made Pansy feel sleepy again. She yawned and her small voice was especially noticeable in the quiet room. Draco glanced at her and said, "If you're tired, take a rest. There's nothing good about her class."
Pansy's face turned red with this yawn.
Then Pansy and Draco both found a back seat and sat down. Looking around, there were only a few people in the classroom. The other students should be on their way and the professor hadn't shown up yet.
After a while, the other students filed in sweating profusely through the trapdoor below. In terms of time, they should all be late. Draco looked around and saw no acquaintances. He didn't know if his two followers didn't take this course or if they were lost in a certain trail in Hogwarts Castle.
Suddenly there was a voice in the shadows, a soft and fuzzy voice.
"Welcome," said the voice. "It is great to see you in the tangible world at last."
This was Professor Trelawney's voice and then she walked out of the shadows. The contrast between the darker surroundings and the brightly lit her made the Slytherin students dizzy.
After that, it was a common topic. She first emphasized the importance of talent for the divination class and then ordered a few unfortunate things to make predictions. Even in her crazy state, the predictions she made often came true. As for the occasional times when she was awake, they were full of hits.
"You, there will be a disaster of blood and light tomorrow. I think this bracelet can help you escape and you can return it to me in the next class." She generously lent one of her bracelets to a student.
The student was torn about accepting it, his expression was a mix of disgust and fear. For a boy, the bracelet was too feminine, but in the end, fear won out.
As for other things like "Your fortune will be bad next week and you need to wear a blue headscarf." and "You will inevitably offend the person you like," there were too many to count. They were all thoughtless and unfounded words.
These words, like prophecies and psychological hints, reminded Draco of a movie he had seen in his previous life: The Matrix.
The Prophet said to Neo: "Don't worry about that vase." As a result, Neo turned around and broke the vase.
These words from the female professor were similar to the Prophet in a sense.
"Perfect tea shape, child. You will be lucky, but you need to stay away from the person you are closest to now, otherwise it may be dangerous. Um, maybe." Professor Trelawney passed by Pansy's little round stool and glanced at her tea, giving her the first approval of the day. The female professor's blurry eyes gradually focused, as if she had seen some precious treasure. It seemed that the girl student liked her very much.
"Your aura is very strong, dear. You are very suited for this divination course." Trelawney said kindly, her eyes wide under her glasses and a faint smile on the corner of her mouth. She was even more elusive.
Pansy didn't show the triumph and joy that she had expected at being praised. Instead, a faint cloud covered her delicate little face and her slender eyebrows were slightly wrinkled. In the past, she might have still been complacent about such praise, but the nightmare she had recently had made her unhappy. Pansy gave Draco a worried look.
"Speaking of my aura, doesn't it mean that I might have predicted it accurately? What about Draco?" Pansy couldn't help thinking about her dream and shuddered at the memory, sweat dripping from her forehead. The time was passing and her palms were growing cold.
Suddenly, a warm hand took her arm and calmed her down.
"Remembering the dementors again?" Draco noticed Pansy's disturbed state and asked with concern, taking her cold hand in his own.
"Oh, my dear boy, you will cause a mess." Professor Trelawney turned to look into Draco's teacup and comforted him. "You have to be careful. There is a layer of darkness covering your head, which makes it hard for me to see, but I know it is not a symbol of luck."
"Well, that's not right." Professor Trelawney looked at him carefully and her dim eyes began to clear. "It's darkness." She said solemnly, her tone completely different from before.
"It's hard to tell." Professor Trelawney held her forehead in pain, as if she had encountered a great problem. Draco saw the change in her personality, but even in a sober state, she was still unable to see through his future.
"This should be a good thing," Draco thought, relieved to avoid any mention of bloody disasters or life-threatening prophecies. Instead, it seemed more likely that he would "cause a big news" with a mess.
"Huh? Will I be stupefied? Sorry." Professor Trelawney's crazy personality seemed to return as she straightened the crooked ornaments on her head and walked in a trance to the seats of other students, as if she had forgotten the prediction she had just made.
"Darkness, no prediction. Isn't that what I need?" Draco thought. Changing the trajectory of his fate was his current desire. Neither the Death Eaters nor the Dark Lord were attractive to him.
"Draco, are you okay?" Pansy looked at Draco in a daze and couldn't help asking. She shook her hand in front of him, but she knew that his character wouldn't be affected by these predictions. She was worried about what he was thinking, but didn't know for sure.
"Nothing, I'm just thinking about how to cause a big mess." Draco joked, seemingly casually. "It looks like you have a good talent for divination. How about it, are you interested in becoming a fortune teller?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Pansy shook her head with disgust and refused. "I understand why Muggles hate wizards. They always report prejudice against things they don't understand, and so do I." That was part of the reason, but Pansy was unwilling to say more. If she could really see the future but was unable to change it, wouldn't it be more uncomfortable? She didn't want to be a fortune-telling master like the female professor in front of her.
Draco was amazed by what she said. The little girl who used to just have fun now had different opinions, which surprised him.
"Then I won't choose it for the next class. We can choose something more interesting, like ancient magic writing. This class is very good for gaining a deep understanding of magic." Draco offered his suggestion, but soon felt a little self-conscious. He didn't think Pansy would be interested in it.
"Okay," Pansy nodded happily, surprising Draco.
"Don't you like this type of course?" Draco asked curiously.
"People change," Pansy said faintly, staring at the tea dregs on the table.
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