Days to grind friendship at Hogwarts

At this time, Penello and Hilliard led a group of freshmen, answered the questions on the bronze door knocker, and lined up to walk in.

The children who had never seen the world couldn't help but marvel when they saw the exquisite decoration in the common room.

Robert Hilliard cleared his throat to attract their attention.

He straightened his robe, straightened his upper body, looked straight, and retracted his chin slightly.

Standard speaking posture.

"Congratulations! It is my honor to welcome you to Ravenclaw House. I am Robert Hilliard, Prefect."

He nodded slightly and looked down at the freshmen who were much shorter than him.

Penello stepped aside and looked at Hilliard with a smile along with Edith, the sixth-grade prefect.

"Our logo is an eagle, soaring high to the peak that no one can reach."

His voice was solemn, cadenced and full of appeal.

The little wizards were entranced.

...

"Congratulations on joining the smartest, weirdest, most interesting house at Hogwarts!"

"Welcome Ravenclaw!"

At the end of his long speech, the freshmen immediately applauded for a long time.

Glenn couldn't help but cast a look of admiration. This genuine prefect's speech was much better than the copycat version he used to fool Patricia.

With such appeal, is it not as popular as Boruto?

Unfortunately, Roger's face remained expressionless and he left alone and in low spirits.

After the freshmen dispersed, Penello patted Hilliard hard on the shoulder and asked with a smile.

"Tell me, how long have you been practicing in front of the mirror?"

"It didn't take long..." He scratched his head and said with some embarrassment.

"not bad."

Edith glanced at him lightly, curled her lips slightly, and then turned around and left gracefully.

After a summer vacation, her royal sister aura became more mature.

It was getting late, so Glenn said good night to Qiu, and then returned to the dormitory to rest with his roommates.

The soft four-poster bed had been covered with blue velvet sheets, and the curtains hung gently, swaying in the breeze.

Glenn packed his luggage, arranged his textbooks and books neatly on the shelves above his head, and sorted his robes and cloaks into categories and hung them in the closet.

He also put the exquisite wooden box left by Morgana in the drawer of the bedside table.

A night of silence.

Early the next morning, everyone had breakfast and went to the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Everyone is curious about the level of the new teacher who took over after Professor Rick disappeared.

As a former Muggle Studies professor, although most of the junior wizards couldn't call Quirrell by his name, they could still barely recognize him.

Senior students who have taken his courses said that Professor Quirrell's skills are quite good.

After hearing such comments, everyone has a little more expectation.

However, there is always a gap between reality and imagination.

As soon as they walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts class on the third floor, they were immediately hit by a strong smell of garlic.

The smell is not as simple as garlic, but more like the smell of minced garlic left overnight and dried.

Many young wizards walking in front were unprepared for a moment and rushed out of the door, bending down and holding on to the corridor wall, retching.

Glenn kept an eye on it and pulled Qiu to walk at the end.

"Are you guys okay?"

Qiu patted Marietta's back and asked with concern.

Marietta touched her chest with one hand and pointed to the classroom with the other. Just as she was about to speak, she saw Cormac McLaggen who seemed to have swallowed something, and she couldn't help feeling nauseated again.

"yue~"

She retched violently again, and tears squeezed out of her eyes unconsciously.

At this time, there was already a smell emanating from the open door. Qiu frowned and waved his little hand in front of his eyes a few times.

"Are you... are you... still... okay?"

Quirrell in the classroom straightened his tightly wrapped huge turban and asked stammeringly.

"It's okay, Professor."

Glenn stood outside the door and said without changing his expression.

Only Qiu, who was closest, noticed that he was holding his breath while speaking.

The little wizards from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor dispersed in the corridor until the bell rang and the smell dissipated a lot, then they reluctantly shuffled into the classroom.

The smell seemed to emanate from Quirrell's body, and the closer to him, the stronger the smell became.

Glenn reacted quickly and immediately pulled Qiu to sit in the far corner of the classroom.

Other little wizards also followed suit, vying to sit far away from Quirrell.

The entire first three rows of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom were empty.

As if out of embarrassment, Quirrell laughed twice, looking at a loss.

"I remember at the dinner, when Robert described Professor Quirrell, it was not like this..."

Eddie, who was sitting in the front row of Glenn, turned around and muttered.

Marcos also shrugged and said, "Why do I feel that this professor is a little unreliable?"

Quirrell didn't notice the whispers in the small corner and introduced himself hesitantly.

"Professor Quirrell, I heard that you met a vampire in Albania. Is it true?"

McLaggen winked at the people around him, interrupted him loudly, and asked.

"No...no..."

"Then why do you put so much garlic on your body? Isn't it because you are afraid that the vampire will come to catch you?"

He was the first to walk into the classroom just now, and he made a big ugly appearance. Many people saw him swallowing his own vomit.

It was precisely because of this that he deliberately caused trouble when Quirrell introduced himself to vent his emotions.

Although they thought this was not good, a few Gryffindors who had just seen his eyes burst into laughter, but the laughter was more or less perfunctory.

Seeing that the effect was not good and his teammates were not very cooperative, McLagan had no choice but to speak again.

"Why do you have a weird big hat on your head?"

Quirrell's face turned slightly pale, and he explained stumblingly: "This is... a gift from a very... African prince, in order to... thank me for helping... help him get rid of... and return it."

..Resurrected Zombie..."

"Then how did you help him get rid of the resurrected zombies?"

McLaggen imitated Quirrell's stuttering accent and asked unforgivingly.

Quirrell's face immediately turned red, his eyes wandered, and he raised and lowered his hands, as if they didn't feel appropriate to put them there.

"We'll talk about this...thing later. Now...please open the textbook and turn to page seven...seven."

"Page seven, or page seventy-seven?"

Quirrell didn't answer, but his face turned even redder.

Glenn frowned and sighed secretly.

This guy's acting skills are really amazing.