Hogwarts: Harry Returns From The Witcher

Under the broken hair, there is a lightning scar.

Ron looked straight: "Is this what the mysterious man did?"

"Yes." Harry nodded and leaned forward, "Actually, I'm curious why you call Voldemort the Mysterious Man, the Dark Lord, or a man who should not be called directly."

Ron shivered: "Oh, no, I just knew and thought, you are the only one who can name it out of everyone."

"So, why, can't you just call Voldemort?" Harry was still curious.

The reason is not written in the book.

The words involving "Voldemort" are also referred to as "Dark Lord" and "that man".

Ron was stunned, and his mind didn't respond at first: "I...I don't know, but my parents have said that since I was a child, saying the name of the Dark Lord will cause bad things."

"Curse?" Harry thought of a passage in "The Dark Arts: A Guide to Self-Defense" - "Beware of those ancient and evil words, the words themselves also contain the power of curses."

Ron's expression was very unnatural, and there was a bit of begging in his tone: "Oh, let's not continue this topic, shall we? Why don't we come and talk, which Quidditch team do you like?"

Harry didn't force it.

Although he was really curious about it.

It is also very interesting for them to chat about other topics and see the world from the perspective of a little wizard.

Witchers don't know much about chatting.

But Ron is good at it.

Until noon, when I bought some food, Ron's words didn't fall to the ground.

"Bang Dang".

Just when Ron was thinking about whether the booger-flavored weird beans are better or the mud-flavored weird beans are better.

The door was roughly pulled open.

A girl with big front teeth and thick brown curly hair stuck her head in: "Have any of you seen a toad? Neville lost a toad."

Harry looked up, looked over, but said nothing.

"What are you looking at, I'm asking you something." The girl still had a haughty tone.

Harry spoke sincerely and puzzled: "Are you an orphan without father and mother, like me?"

The girl was taken aback.

this question...

You must be scolding yourself, right?

Absolutely.

But how to refute, he scolded himself... Maybe this person can't speak, just pure curiosity?

The girl struggled for a while: "Oh, no, sorry, I'm not an orphan."

Harry raised his hand and pointed at Ron: "There are seven children in his family, and their parents have taught him to knock on the door before entering other people's cars. Why can't you?"

Ron, with his mouth full of pumpkin pie, looked up blankly.

I was just an innocent onlooker who was eating melons, why did I suddenly get shot at my knee by a random arrow.

It means he understands.

But why... it sounds so uncomfortable.

The girl blushed: "I'm sorry, I was too impatient, but Neville's pet is missing."

"We didn't see it," Harry replied.

The girl backed out and hastily closed the door: "Thank you, sorry for the trouble."

Ron looked at the person sitting opposite him with complicated eyes: "Harry, I don't mean anything else, but has anyone said that there may be some problems with the way you speak?"

Harry nodded in agreement: "Yes, many people have said it, and I also think there are some problems."

"You know what? Whenever I think I'm being gentle with someone, it always turns into fisting."

"Then you should change it." Ron made a very reliable suggestion.

Harry looked over suspiciously, and confidently said, "As long as you can beat it, it will be fine?"

Ron opened his mouth, speechless.

He looked at Harry tangled—this thin and small body really didn't look like someone who could fight.

Clang——the carriage door was pulled open again.

Still no knock.

There were even more people coming in, three boys, the leader was a little boy with platinum blonde hair and a pale complexion, the arrogance of the brown-haired girl was on his lips, and his arrogance was on his face.

"I heard that Harry Potter is in this workshop." He looked between the two of them, and seeing Ron, a dazzling disgust appeared on his face, and then he hurriedly turned his head to look at Harry, "Then You are the one?"

"You too..." Harry started, about to ask.

Ron quickly interrupted: "He has parents, Malfoy's... This behavior is disgusting."

Malfoy was puzzled.

Everyone has parents, isn't this common sense?

"Then why don't you knock on the door?" Harry changed his words and asked bluntly.

Malfoy raised his head arrogantly, and stretched out his hand towards Harry: "I'm here to be your friend, but it seems that you made a friend in advance?"

"However, Potter, even if they all come from wizard families, there are gaps."

"I've heard my father say, pure-blood scum, the red-haired Weasleys with a litter of stinky kids."

"Obviously—"

"Potter, I don't think you would want to make friends with aliens."

Ron clenched his fists and blushed.

Harry didn't reach out, just stared at Malfoy.

Looking at each other with a pair of cat eyes, he felt a penetrating chill in his heart.

"We're already different, aren't we?" Harry said with a smile, shaking his head.

Malfoy withdrew his hand back, his face was cold, making his already pale face a little more sick: "Strange? It seems that you have been in the world of Mudblood for a long time!"

"Potter, if I were you, I'd be very careful. Mixing with a dubious person like Weasley, sooner or later you'll become a dubious person."

Harry sighed and clenched his fists: "I'm talking to you very seriously."

"But the result should have collapsed."

"Then let's just skip the nonsense." He stood up and put on a fighting stance, "Whether you come together or one by one, I don't care."

Malfoy took a step back: "What do you want to do, fight?"

"Isn't it?" Harry asked back.

"Gol, Crabbe, teach him a lesson!" Malfoy glanced at the two servants beside him, and sneered, "Let this ignorant Scarhead calm down."

There was no wavering in Harry's heart.

He just knew it had to be like this.

Dodging sideways, with a jab, it hit the bridge of Goyle's nose - a mixture of blood and snot sprayed out, staining Malfoy's platinum hair with blood.

Crouching and squatting, an uppercut landed on Crabbe's chin.

Insufficient strength, unable to fly.

But the blow to the jaw caused Crabbe's expression to contort immediately, and Harry took the opportunity to add another swinging punch.

An eleven-year-old child, even if he is big, has much resistance to blows.

The two of them held their heads, half kneeling on the ground, howling in pain.

Malfoy looked at Harry apprehensively.

"Are you still coming?" Harry blankly shook his hands, shaking off the blood and snot stained on them.

Malfoy staggered and ran backwards.

Crabbe and Goyle also rolled and escaped from this compartment.

Harry closed the door.

When he sat down again, Ron looked weird, and even a little excited: "I believe it now, you can really fight, two big guys that big, you can knock them down with two or three punches."

"They're weak." Harry shook his head, not proud at all. Bullying children even made him feel guilty for a second or two. "As a wizard, I didn't cast spells."

Of course...he wouldn't give anyone the chance to pull out his wand.

"No, little wizards don't know how to cast spells before entering school." Ron immediately shook his head in denial. Halfway through the sentence, he remembered Harry's levitating spell, and added hesitantly, "You are an exception, after all, you are the savior."

Harry took apart a licorice stick and bit it in his mouth: "Is there something wrong with what I just said?"

Ron was taken aback: "Which sentence?"

"Every sentence." Harry was a little confused, "And what does Mudblood mean?"

Ron's facial features twisted: "That's a bad word. It's a swear word that discriminates against Muggle-born wizards. It's ugly. Only those evil and hopeless dark wizards will say it."

"Like Malfoy."

"And Slytherins and those inherently evil ones."

Harry clicked and bit off the licorice stick: "But aren't Muggles too?"

"Muggle, isn't it?" Ron didn't quite understand this sentence.

Harry swallowed what was in his mouth: "I mean, aren't Muggles the same as Mudbloods, they have a strong sense of discrimination."

"Why do you say that?" Ron was puzzled.

"How are Muggle words spelled?" Harry slid his fingers across the table, "M-U-G-G-L-E."

"You don't see anything wrong?"

Ron was still dazed.

"Don't wizards learn words?" Harry raised his eyebrows, a little surprised.

Ron blushed a little: "No, we learned it, of course we learned it!"

"It's just that I don't understand what you mean, what's wrong with this word?"

Harry sighed. "The root word for Muggle is M-U-G, Mog."

Ron asked back, "That's not what the cup means."

"It can also be used on people, meaning fool." Harry nodded the table.

In fact, he prefers the name in the history books of magic for non-magical humans - No-Maj "mo-maj".

Ron's brain was unresponsive again.

It was hard for him to accept that a word that had been used for so long had such a meaning.

Inside the carriage, a strange male voice sounded.

"There are still five minutes before the bus will arrive at Hogwarts. All students, please change into school uniforms and leave your luggage on the bus. We will send your luggage to the dormitory."

Harry stood up, waved his wand, took out his school uniform, and patted Ron on the shoulder by the way: "Don't think so much, it's just a title."

"If you get used to it, just keep using it."

Ron struggled: "But you said it meant a fool."

"Mug is a fool, but muggle is not." Harry shrugged and changed his clothes. "The title doesn't change anything."

Ron nodded: "Oh, okay."

"Have you decided which branch to go to?"

He adjusted his emotions quickly, after all he claimed to be a Gryffindor man. Almost instantly, he put the bad things behind him.

Harry thought for a moment, "Maybe it will be Gryffindor."

The deans of the four houses have holy relics, and the relic of Gryffindor is a sword forged by goblins - that may be some great magical item, and for the witcher, there is nothing like a sword Swords are more attractive.

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