Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

() "What? What sin?" Umbridge took a step back when he saw Trelawney's weird look. "What happened to the silent one? Those things ceased to exist decades ago." ! "

But Trilawie, as if she hadn't heard her, was still buried in the long hair of Zhangya dance claws, and the whole body shivered even more ...

"... Titicaca ... sin ... recovery ... nightmare is coming ..."

She said with that vicissitudes of voice, the atmosphere in the classroom became more and more weird, and the room that was originally lit because of the curtains was wide open, but everyone only felt that the temperature dropped slightly.

At the same time, Trelawney's predictions became more coherent and clearer.

"... When the light of the old days ... retreated ... the stage, the enemy will make a comeback ..."

"... the tombstone of sin will eventually change hands, when the tacit one ... uh ... Titicaca ... Titicaca ..."

While everyone was immersed in the mysterious and treacherous prophecy, Trilawie seemed to be blocked by his throat, and the humorous words stopped abruptly.

In its place is the original meaningless noise. The little wizards looked at each other, a little at a loss.

Although in the magic world, the existence of prophets has been rare since ancient times. But since magic schools like Hogwarts have been running divination classes for many years, wizards are not new to such things as "prophecy."

Of course, divination is too ambiguous. In the extreme lack of examples, everyone didn't care too much about this course.

Even so, most of the little wizards felt a bit “have to believe” when Terry Lawney showed the true “prophetic gesture” in public.

Even Umbridge could only grit his teeth without saying a word-after all, anyone could feel it now, and the kind of breath exuded on Trilawney's body now made people goose bumps.

However, while everyone was listening nervously, Trilawney's condition became even more abnormal.

In the nervous gaze of dozens of pairs of eyes in the classroom, Trilawney raised her head suddenly, her mouth half-open and half-closed, as if she wanted to say something.

And her eyes at this moment, sheerly covered with a layer of gray.

"... click ... when ... break ... break ... the timing ... of the shackles ..."

Trelawney in the prophetic gesture, as if possessed by something else, borrowed her body to describe the prophecy itself. But at this moment, the "existence" in her body became extremely difficult to speak.

"... different ... numbers."

The last half of the word was squeezed out of her throat, and the grayness in Trilawney's eyes suddenly dissipated. Immediately afterwards, she seemed to have lost the support of a certain force, and plunged to the floor.

Almost at the same time, in the prophecy hall of the Department of Mystery Affairs of the Ministry of Magic, a certain popped-up prophecy ball burst with a click.

"Oh ... hmm ... what a different number? I don't know what it means!"

Umbridge was awakened by the sound of her falling, and she muttered dryly, then went through the trapdoor on the ground without looking back and hurriedly went downstairs.

"That ... what to do?" Harry looked at Professor Trelawney on the ground, and looked around again, and found that everyone was looking at himself.

"Uh ..." He hesitated, then pointed subconsciously at himself, "me?"

The students nodded together.

"Hey! Ron—" Harry turned and pulled his good friend.

"Oh ... okay okay! Who makes us good buddies!" Ron seemed to be remembering something, and when he felt Harry dragged him, he looked up, "Let's hurry up and call Mai Professor Ge ... "

Before the words fell, he rarely stood up and took Harry to the trapdoor.

"Did you just write down the prophecy?"

"Of course! Didn't Maca say that, and contact him for important things-this is a good opportunity for us to help him!"

As they ran to the Metamorphosis classroom, the two whispered by the way.

"Well, too ..." Harry nodded.

"But you say ... Trilloni's prediction is inaccurate?" Although Ron wrote it down happily, he had some distrust of Professor Trilloni, "I Think about it, still feel a little unreliable? "

"Who knows?" Harry thought for a moment. "Maca will always judge for himself, oh ... speaking, what happened to your candy just now?"

Ron heard that, and shook his head somewhat embarrassed.

"Don't you remember, don't let my mother know ..."

"Of course!" Harry patted his chest as he ran.

"Like I said just now, it was a trial work of Fred and George, called 'alcohol bombs' ... Maca's suggestion is that if you sell it to major bars, you will definitely make a lot of money! "

"Ha ..." Harry grinned. "Just listening to the name knows what it is! Fortunately, I just spit it out after chewing ..."

"No, the biggest benefit of this thing is that you won't get drunk even if you eat too much!" Ron said mysteriously, "Maca said, he added a formula for quickly decomposing alcohol into it. Let those drunks never stop ... "

Soon, they came to the door of the Transfiguration Classroom. The two glanced at each other before Harry stepped forward and opened the classroom door.

"... The physical properties of each material are closely related to its magical properties, and we can correspond to ... eh?"

Professor McGonagall was giving a lecture, and when she heard the sound of the door being opened, she turned back keenly.

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry said quickly.

"What's the matter?" McGonagall was always stern, serious and earnest in class. "Shouldn't you be in the divination classroom at this time? Why run here?"

"That ..." Harry paused. "Professor Trelawney made a prophecy, and then she fainted ..."

In fact, most of the students knew that Professor McGonagall did not like Professor Trelawney because she didn't believe in divination.

The way in which the two professors get along with each other naturally, Harry also saw in his eyes, so he now seems a little hesitant.

But that was a professor at Hogwarts, and was also hired by Dumbledore himself. For McGregor, who trusted Dumbledore and cherished Hogwarts bit by bit, Trilawney's existence had long been recognized.

"I see," Professor McGonagall nodded, and turned to the students in the classroom. "Now you recite the dual nature of the material ..."

Then she hurriedly strode towards the door.

"Mr. Porter, Mr. Weasley, go to the school hospital and inform Mrs. Pomfrey," McGonald said sharply. "We'll be here soon--"

"Ah! Okay!" Harry and Ron both responded.

...

After half an hour, the principal was indoors.

Many of the portraits of the principals of the past on the wall are empty. I don't know where they went. The furnishings here also seem to have changed a lot, like being carefully cleaned up by the figurines, which looks a lot cleaner than in the past.

The windows on the side were also open, and the wind poured in, but there was not much coolness.

Even the sorting caps on the shelves seemed to be cleaned a bit. Although there were still patches everywhere and the wrinkled areas were not smoothed, at least not as dirty as in previous years, inside and out. It's stained outside.

Professor McGonagall seemed a bit uncomfortable with this almost renewed principal's office, and she glanced around from time to time with some doubts in her eyes.

"... Is that so?" Dumbledore nodded at McGonagall. "How is Sybil now?"

"She's awake, it looks fine," McGonagall said earnestly. "But her prediction ..."

From the description of the students, it was undoubtedly a true prediction, and Professor McGonagall was quite concerned about it. But after Dumbledore heard it, he thought only a little.

"Don't worry," he smiled. "Not a big deal."

A true prophecy from a prophet, I am afraid most people will take it very carefully. But now Dumbledore didn't seem to care so much, as if the content was really not a big deal.

"But ..." Professor McGonagall seemed uneasy.

"It's okay, take it easy ..." Dumbledore took off his glasses and wiped it. "Future things, everyone can't say well ... Prophecy can only be used as a reference. What should we do or should we do, no ?"

After he wiped his lens and put it on the bridge of his nose again, he continued: "Milleva, do you want a toffee finger cake?"

Professor McGonagall pouted, then shook his head.

"No, UU reading www.uukanshu.com is unnecessary ..." She thought for a while, "I'll go down then."

"Ok."

Dumbledore stood up and watched Meg leave with a smile. When the door of the principal's office was closed again, he picked up a finger cake, shoved it into his mouth, and chewed it gently.

"... is an old enemy?" He mumbled, then shrugged indifferently, a little naughty in the smile, "It's time to end ..."

After all, he grabbed a few more finger cakes, and walked to the window in a hurry.

At this time, a gust of wind blew by, shaking his silver hair and often white beard, making the image of the white wizard more elegant and dusty.

The warm sunshine fell on him, warm, and he narrowed his eyes comfortably. The half-moon-shaped lenses reflect the sunlight and glow with gold glitter.

"Well ... while Maca is not here yet, secretly go back to the" Duke of Honey "? The flyer says that the shop has developed a new dessert ..."