Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

"Allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,"

Looking at the black figure standing at the gate, Headmaster Dumbledore happily broke the silence of the Great Hall.

"Professor Moody!"

Accompanied by his words, the candles floating on the ceiling cast a beam of light at the right time, like a spotlight on the stage, illuminating Professor Moody.

Faced with such a situation, the once most powerful Auror of the British Ministry of Magic tightened his robes, and seemed to subconsciously want to take a step back, avoid the beams, and hide in the darkness behind him.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly, and walked to the teacher's seat amidst Dumbledore's greeting.

Moody held out a hand, which was as scarred as his face.

Dumbledore shook hands with him and said something in a low voice, as if asking something.

Professor Moody shook his head without a smile, and answered in a low voice. Dumbledore nodded, motioning for him to take the empty seat on his right first.

At this time, the four long student tables in the audience were still silent. Normally, when a new teacher meets everyone, everyone will applaud and welcome them.

But when Dumbledore introduced it just now, except for Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, none of the teachers or students applauded.

The others seemed taken aback by Moody's strange appearance, and just stared at him intently.

However, Professor Moody didn't seem to care about this, and he didn't care about the strange eyes of others.

After sitting down, he shook his head, shaking his long gray hair away from his face, and at the same time tapped on the table in front of him with his fingers, and a plate of grilled sausages immediately appeared in front of him.

Moody pulled the plate of sausage, held it up to the incomplete nose and smelled it, then took out a small silver knife from his pocket, poked it in from one end of the sausage, pulled it out, and after confirming that there was no problem, did eat up.

And so, while eating, his normal eyes fixed on the sausage, the blue eye still constantly roving in its socket, surveying the auditorium and fellow students.

Clark noticed that Moody's eyes lingered on Harry and himself for a moment, then turned away again.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" George, who was sitting across from Clark, glanced thoughtfully at the teacher's desk, "It's that madman—"

"Why do you say that?" Ron asked curiously.

"Didn't you hear that this morning?" Fred replied, "Dad was on an urgent mission. He said he suspected that someone had broken into his house, and ended up blowing up the trash can at the door."

"No wonder, but he does look a little bit crazy like this-" Ron murmured fearfully.

"Don't say that," George interrupted Ron, "Papa still admires him, and I heard he is an old friend of Dumbledore."

"Daddy also collects Muggle plugs," said Fred. "Dumbledore isn't what you would call normal, is he? I mean, I know he's a genius, it's amazing..."

"Moody was a very powerful wizard back then."

At this time Clark was introducing Hermione and Neville.

"He used to work at the Ministry of Magic, of course he's retired now, but there are still legends about him among the Aurors at the Ministry.

It is said that he is the best Auror in nearly a century... that is, a master who specializes in capturing dark wizards. "

Seeing the puzzled look on Hermione's face, he went on:

"It can be said that half of the cells in Azkaban are filled by him.

But he also made himself a lot of enemies...mainly the relatives of those he caught...

I heard that as he got older, he became more and more suspicious, didn't believe in anything, and saw dark wizards everywhere he went. "

When Neville heard about Moody's great achievements, he couldn't help admiring, "He's really amazing, do you know, I've wanted to be an Auror since I was a child."

No matter in the face of everyone's indifference and fearful attitude,

Still being watched by those eyes of awe and admiration, Moody sitting on the teacher's bench seemed indifferent.

Ignoring the large pitcher of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached into his traveling cloak, pulled out a curved decanter, and took a swig.

As he raised his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled up a few inches from the floor, and Clark saw a few inches of wooden prosthetic leg protruding from under the table, with a claw-shaped foot underneath.

At this time, Dumbledore cleared his throat, and after introducing Professor Moody, he talked about the unfinished topic again.

"As I said just now."

He smiled and looked at the many students in front of him, although everyone was still staring blankly at Mad-Eye Moody.

"Over the next few months we will be honored to host a fantastic event that has not been held in over a century.

It is with great pleasure that I report that the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year. "

"You are joking!"

The tense atmosphere that had been hanging over the auditorium ever since Moody entered was suddenly shattered.

Almost everyone cheered, and Bullido smiled appreciatively.

The students born in wizarding families more or less knew about the news of the Triwizard Contest, and those Muggle-born students were also in a hurry to inquire. Discuss excitedly.

"Okay, okay, where did I just say that? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament..." said Dumbledore.

"I believe that most of you have already learned what the Triwizard Tournament is from your parents, brothers, or your friends' parents and brothers. If some of you don't know what this Tournament is What happened..."

Dumbledore spread his hands and smiled, "Then go read."

"However, what I want to explain here is that in October this year, the principals of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, the other two schools participating in the Triwizard Tournament, will lead their carefully selected competitors to Hogwarts. Ci.

The selection of the participating warriors will take place on Halloween, and an impartial judge will decide which students are most qualified to take part in the Knife Fight Triwizard Cup, honoring their school.

Moreover, the individual who wins the championship can also receive a bonus of 1,000 Galleons provided by the Ministry of Magic. "

"I want to participate!" Fred Weiss came over the table and said in a low voice, "No one can stop me, I said it!"

Although he already had a small fortune, his face was still beaming with excitement when he thought of the possibility of obtaining such honor and wealth.

And at this moment, he is not the only one who fantasizes about becoming a Hogwarts warrior. At the desks of every college, people can be seen staring at Dumbledore enthusiastically, or whispering excitedly to their neighbors.

However, they were still too young. Dumbledore's next words seemed to quench their fiery restlessness in an instant, like the lake water in the cold winter months.

"I know you are all eager to win the Triwizard Tournament for Hogwarts," he said, "however, the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic agree that there will be an age cutoff for this year's contenders."

The auditorium fell silent in an instant, and everyone stared at Dumbledore's mouth, hoping that the age limit spoken from his mouth would not block them out.

"Only students who have reached the age of seventeen, that is, students over the age of seventeen, are allowed to register for consideration."

"we think--"

Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, because some people protested angrily after hearing what he said, such as the Wesley twins who suddenly became angry.

"I personally think this measure is very necessary, because the competition is still very difficult and dangerous. No matter how many precautions we take, it is impossible for students under the sixth and seventh grades to handle it.

I will personally assure that no underage student tricks our impartial judges into becoming a Hogwarts champion. "

There was a meaningful gleam in his blue eyes as he glanced over the rebellious faces of Fred and George. "Therefore, if you are under seventeen, I beg you not to waste your time applying."

Hermione noticed that when Dumbledore said this, Clark didn't respond at all, so she leaned closer to his ear.

"You knew about the restrictions," she said, "but you deliberately didn't tell George about them on the train."

"Life has bad news every now and then, doesn't it?" Clark said with a laugh. "If I'd told them on the train, they'd have gotten mad at me like they're doing now."

At this moment, George and Fred were shaking their fists to protest, but Principal Dumbledore ignored them and continued to speak to himself.

"The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations will arrive in October and spend most of the academic year with us.

I imagine that you will be warm and friendly when our foreign dignitary is here, and that you will support him or her wholeheartedly once a Hogwarts hero is finally chosen.

Well, it is getting late now, and it is very important for you to walk into class tomorrow morning refreshed and clear-headed.

Go to bed! hurry up! "

Dumbledore sat down and turned to Mad-Eye Moody.

The following Wesley twin brothers were about to continue their quarrel, but they were ruthlessly suppressed by Professor McGonagall.

In the dining room, there was a sound of kacha kacha and ping-pong-pong, and the students stood up one after another, rushed to the two opposite doors, and entered the hall.

"They can't do this!" George Weiss didn't rush to the door with the crowd, but stood there and stared at Dumbledore angrily, and said, "We will be seventeen next April, why don't we let Shall we try it?"

"They can't stop me from participating," said Fred stubbornly, also glaring angrily at the guest of honor. "Being a warrior allows you to do a lot of things you're not normally allowed to do, and you get a thousand plus What about Long's bonus..."

"Yeah," said Ron, with a dazed look on his face, "Yeah, a thousand gold galleons, I haven't seen so much money..."

Clark and the others ignored them and walked directly towards the hall.

"Who will be the impartial referee who judges who is a warrior?" Neville asked suddenly.

Clark smiled mysteriously, "It will be a guy you can never guess."

George and Fred, following behind him, heard this sentence just in time.

"Whoever he is," said Fred, "he's the one we're trying to fool anyway. I think a drop or two of ageing potion will do the trick, George . . . "

"But Dumbledore knows you're not old enough," said Hermione.

"Yeah, but he doesn't decide who's a warrior, does he?" said George smartly.

"It sounds to me like this umpire picks the best from every school as long as he knows who wants to take part, he doesn't care how old they are, and he wants to stop us from signing up. It's Demps who sets the age limit profitable.

Right, Clark? "

Clark nodded. It has to be said that the two brothers are quite smart and can always find loopholes in the rules.

"But didn't Clark say before that many people died!" Ginny, who had been following them, said in a worried tone.

Now they passed through a door concealed behind a tapestry, and ascended a still narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred nonchalantly, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? And, what's the fun if it ain't got a little adventure? Hey, Ron, if we can fool Dumbledore, would you like to join?"

"What do you think?" Ron asked Harry, turning his head. "It would be great to join, wouldn't it? But I guess they want older ones... don't know if we've learned enough... "

"Are you ready to participate?" Hermione asked Clark suddenly in a low voice.

"I'd like to participate," Clark said before Neville, who was standing beside him, said, "It must be a very rare experience to compete against outstanding students from other countries."

"That's true," Clark nodded, "As far as I know, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have their own unique magic systems that are different from Hogwarts."

Speaking of this, Clark thought of the beautiful mixed-race Veela he met when he traveled to France in the summer vacation of his first grade, and her world black and white witch Kuyinla.

I don't know if she will come to Hogwarts this time as in the original book.

While discussing, they walked up the stairs to the entrance of Gryffindor Tower.

The entrance was hidden behind a huge portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" asked the Fat Lady as they approached.

"Nonsense," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait popped forward, revealing a large hole in the wall.

They climbed in through the hole, and the circular common room was filled with tables and floppy armchairs, and the fire was crackling and burning, making it extraordinarily cozy.

However, Hermione glanced at the cheerfully jumping flames, muttered "slave labor" in a low voice, and then said goodbye to them, and took Ginny out to go back to the girls' dormitory.

Clark and the others climbed the spiral staircase to their dormitory on the fourth floor of the tower.

Six four-poster beds stood in two rows against the wall, hung with crimson curtains, and each person's trunk was placed at the foot of the bed.

Several people changed into pajamas, lying on the bed warmed by the house elf in advance, listening to the storm raging outside, it was so comfortable.

"You know, I might be in," Ron was still babbling in the dark, "if Fred and George figure out a way... to enter the Tournament... who knows..."

Beep Pavilion

However, the drowsy Clark had no energy to reply to him, turned around and fell into a deep sleep.