Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

With the exception of Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, all the fourth-year wizards quickly noticed that they had significantly more homework to do this semester.

This feeling was not very obvious at the beginning of school, but as time went by, after each homework was increased layer by layer, they gradually found that they were almost overwhelmed by these homework.

And when the students complained very loudly that Professor McGonagall assigned too much homework for Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall explained the reason.

"You are entering an important period in your magical education!" she told them, her eyes shining majestically behind square glasses, "your O.W.Ls are approaching—"

"The Great Era of Rebirth"

"We don't take placement tests until fifth grade!" Dean Thomas said angrily.

"Perhaps so, Thomas, but trust me, you need to be well prepared! Mr. Prewett is always the only one in this class who can turn a hedgehog into a satisfying pincushion.

Thomas, I should warn you that your needle pad will still curl up in fear when someone approaches it with a needle! "

Thomas' face was flushed, but he knew that Professor McGonagall was telling the truth, and he couldn't be jealous of Clark's ability. ?

In addition to Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration, on the other hand, Professor Binns, the ghost who taught them the history of magic, assigned them this week to write a dissertation on goblin rebellions in the eighteenth century.

There is also Professor Snape of the Potions class, forcing them to study the antidote.

They're not taking it lightly, as Professor Snape has hinted that he'll be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their cure works.

As for the Charms class, Professor Flitwick asked them to read three more books to prepare for learning the Flying Charm.

And among these professors, the one that the students like the most is probably only Hagrid in the Protection of Magical Creatures class.

Those snails grow very fast. Although no one has figured out what they like to eat, they still look the same every day, and quickly grow a moderately hard and soft shell and spikes.

So after a few classes on protecting magical creatures, Hagrid decided to take them and the snails to feed the dragons in the park.

Now for this course, the most enthusiastic among the students is not Harry and the others, but Malfoy.

For those snails, he put aside his reserve and prejudice, and cared for them carefully by himself. The box of snails he was in charge of had the best growth and the largest size.

"When will the Fire Dragon Park open?" Ron asked Clark curiously on the way to the dragon farm carrying the box containing the fried-tailed snails.

"I don't know about that," Clark shook his head. "Maybe we have to wait until next year, when the Triwizard Tournament is coming to an end. After all, this place is still useful—"

"What, the Triwizard Contest will use a dragon farm?!"

Draco Malfoy, who was eavesdropping on the sidelines, suddenly put down the box in his hand and moved closer to Clark.

"Shouldn't the competition be about fighting a fire dragon? Will it hurt Norbeta? How could they do this? Norbeta is still a young dragon, she is not yet an adult!"

Malfoy yelled nervously, causing the other students to look sideways.

Clark had to reassure him, "Don't worry, the matter of the Triwizard Tournament has nothing to do with Norberta."

However, Malfoy was still not at ease, and continued to question him non-stop.

But Clark was in no mood to talk to him, and walked forward in silence.

As for the box he carried? With psychic powers and Neville's strength, he didn't need to do anything at all.

Just like that, Hagrid led a group of little guys into the Forbidden Forest and came to the gate of the new dragon farm.

Unlike before, this time, when Clark and the others passed the gate and entered the dragon farm, a green light swept across them,

Startled some students.

"It's okay, don't be afraid," Hagrid quickly comforted them, "This is a magic spell specially used to identify bad guys, as long as it's green light, it doesn't matter."

They continued to walk in, and as soon as they entered, they saw that the inside of the dragon farm had changed a lot.

You know, at the end of the third grade, because of the werewolf's attack, the entire dragon farm was involved in the time vortex.

Although they managed to get out of trouble by relying on Clark's psychic powers and the observer effect, the entire dragon farm shrank a lot, leaving only a small area called Huolong Park.

Today, even this park, which once brought joy to many children, is gone.

The original shops, streets, and entertainment facilities in the park have been demolished, packed, and taken away, and replaced by a small hill, a small valley, and a small river.

Of course, in addition to these specific and subtle landscaping, in the small valley, there is also a prone fire dragon with scales like obsidian—Nobeta.

At this time, because she sensed Clark's arrival, she jumped up from the ground, flapped her wings, and flew in front of the students.

Such a behemoth with a height of nearly one floor suddenly landed in front of it, which put great pressure on the young wizards present. ??

Especially when Nobeta moved her huge dragon head up and opened her bloody mouth, some timid witches were so frightened that they almost cried.

However, Hagrid seemed completely unaware of all this.

He took the initiative to reach out his palm, touched Norberta's cheek, and then scratched the soft flesh on her chin like teasing a puppy, which made Norberta turn her head away in disgust.

"Hey, look, how cute she is!" said Hagrid happily.

Among the little wizards present, only one person agreed with him, and that was Draco Malfoy.

He stared obsessively at the beautiful big guy in front of him, and couldn't help reaching out his hand, wanting to gently stroke her paw.

"Yeah, she is so beautiful, look at the scales, look at the claws..."

It's a pity that his admiration didn't seem to make Norberta appreciate it. The little female dragon raised her paw and waved at him, while snorting viciously, and sprayed a few sparks from her nostrils.

However, this intimidating behavior did not scare Malfoy away. He even turned his head excitedly and shouted at his two followers, "Ah, did you see that? She is saying hello to me!"

"Who is this guy? I'm afraid he's not a fool, right?" The immature child's voice sounded in Clark's mind through the soul link.

Clark also said dumbfounded, "This is your admirer."

"Worshiper? Can you eat it?" Norbeta's words startled Clark, and he quickly educated her in the mind link.

Of course, language education alone is not enough, because Clark hasn't come to see her for a long time, and this little guy even lost his temper arrogantly.

Fortunately, the snails raised by Hagrid successfully worked.

When Hagrid dropped the first snail into Nobeta's mouth, the little female dragon fell in love with the new food.

Although Clark has never tasted that kind of taste, he can still feel a little bit of Norbeta's feeling through the spiritual connection.

The hard carapace of the snails crackled under the chewing of the dragon teeth, and it was as crisp as potato chips, but the muscles and fat inside were so soft that they could explode with a bite.

Such a special taste, coupled with the irritating taste brought by the flammable substances contained in the snail, is simply a delicacy for dragons.

In the end, Norbeta couldn't even wait for the little wizards to feed her, so she lowered her head and started eating.

In this way, a class on protecting magical creatures made the students and the fire dragon very happy, and it also completely helped Hagrid establish a good image in the hearts of the children.

"Professor, can we feed the fire dragon later?"

Malfoy called out the professor to Hagrid for the first time, with a flattering smile on his face.

Regrettably, Hagrid said directly, "That can't be done. The dragon farm in the back has to be closed. If you want to feed the dragons, you have to wait until next semester."

The news made Malfoy howl with grief.

However, when they finished the course and returned to the castle, another piece of good news made them forget the unpleasantness.

When Clark and his party came to the foyer, they found that the front could no longer pass. Because a large group of students are crowded in front of the notice board at the foot of the marble stairs, unwilling to leave.

Neville was the tallest of them all. Standing on tiptoe, over the heads of those in front of him, he read aloud the words on the notice:

"Triwizard Tournament

Representatives of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive at 6pm on Friday 30 October. The afternoon class will end half an hour earlier—"

"Great!" said Harry happily, "Friday's last class is Potions! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"

"At that time, please send your schoolbags and textbooks back to the dormitory, gather in front of the castle, meet our guests, and then attend the welcome banquet." Neville continued to read.

"Only a week away!"

Ernie McMillan of Hufflepuff College squeezed out from the crowd, and said with sparkling eyes, "I don't know if Cedric knows. I'll tell him..."

There were quite a few people who had the same idea as him, and soon, the news was spread throughout the campus by the students.

And the notice that appeared in the foyer also had an obvious impact on the people living in the castle.

Everywhere you go for the next week, people seem to be talking about only one thing: the Triwizard Tournament.

Rumors of all kinds passed rapidly among the students, spreading like a contagion:

Who will be Hogwarts Champion? What items will the contest have? How are the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang different from them?

In addition to these students' concerns, the castle seems to be undergoing a thorough cleaning.

Several grimy portraits were scrubbed clean, much to the displeasure of those scrubbed.

They sat huddled in the picture frame, muttering sullenly, and grinning in pain every time they touched the newly exposed pink tender flesh on their faces.

The armor placed on the corridors and steps suddenly became shiny, and they no longer creaked when they moved.

The caretaker, Argus Filch, threw a vicious tantrum at the sight of a student who forgot to wipe his shoes, driving two first-year girls into hysterics.

The other faculty members also seemed extremely nervous.

Sometimes, the little mistakes they make will make the teachers lose their temper.

In the entire Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, perhaps only Professor Dumbledore seemed extraordinarily calm.

At least that's what Clark thought when he walked into the principal's office.

Because as soon as he entered, he saw the old professor vigorously playing magic cards with the principal's portrait on the wall.

"Little Clark is here!"

Dumbledore, who was reminded by the portrait, raised his head, his blue eyes looked him up and down through the half-moon glasses.

Outside the window at this time, there is a dark night sky and dots of stars.

Dumbledore didn't seem surprised, it was already so late, why did Clark not stay in the dormitory to rest, but suddenly ran to the principal's office.

All this is just because of the big wooden box that Clark held in his arms.

"I think you should come too, after all, the game is about to start, and it's impossible without this." Dumbledore said, looking at the old box inlaid with various gems in Clark's arms.

Clark didn't say much, but carefully placed the box on the table in front of Dumbledore, and then pressed his palm on it.

Accompanied by his low voice, the lid of the wooden box creaked open, and the contents of the box were fully displayed in front of the two of them.

"It's just an antiquity. Since we have discussed it at the beginning, I will naturally not break my promise." Clark looked at the things in the box and said with a smile.

In the old wooden box, on the golden-red velvet cloth, there was a roughly forearm-length wooden goblet.

How rough is this cup?

You can even see a small germinated young leaf on the body of the cup, with a little dewdrops in it.

It seemed as if someone cut a section from a tree early in the morning, without even having time to peel off the bark, and put it in the box after two cuts.

However, such an ordinary and simple wooden cup made Dumbledore, who had always been lazy, become serious.

He stretched out his thin, vein-covered palm, and carefully took the wooden cup out of the box, and placed it on the table.

"This is not an ordinary antique." Dunley looked at the cup with appreciation in his eyes.

"That's right," Clark continued. "After all, who would have thought that the legendary Holy Grail would be carved out of a piece of ordinary oak."

Dumbledore was silent for a long time, and finally took his eyes off the wooden cup with difficulty.

"Actually, I haven't made up my mind whether to make it this far..." He looked at Clark, as if he was asking him, but also as if he was asking himself, "After all, once this battle for the Holy Grail begins, it will never happen again." Can't stop."