Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

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

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

"Professor Moody!"

Following his words, the candles floating on the ceiling cast a timely beam of light, illuminating Professor Moody like a spotlight on the stage.

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

Fortunately, he reacted quickly and walked to the teacher's chair amid Dumbledore's greeting.

Moody held out a hand that was as scarred as his face.

Dumbledore shook his hand and whispered something, as if asking something.

Professor Moody shook his head without a smile and replied in a low voice. Dumbledore nodded and motioned for him to sit first in an empty seat to his right.

At this time, there was still silence on the long table of the four students under the stage. Normally, when a new teacher meets everyone, everyone will applaud and welcome them.

But when Dumbledore introduced it just now, apart from Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, not a single teacher or student applauded.

The others seemed to be stunned by Moody's odd appearance, and kept their eyes on him.

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

After sitting down, he shook his head and shook his long gray hair away from his face. At the same time, he tapped the table in front of him, and a plate of grilled sausage immediately appeared in front of him.

Moody pulled the plate of sausage, held it up to his mutilated nose and sniffed it, then took out a small silver knife from his pocket, poked it through one end of the sausage, and pulled it out. eat up.

In this way, while eating, his normal eyes stared at the sausage, and the blue eye was still constantly rolling in the socket, looking at the auditorium and the classmates.

Clark noticed that Moody's eye stayed on Harry and himself for a moment, then turned away.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" George, sitting across from Clark, glanced at the teacher's chair thoughtfully. "That madman—"

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

"Didn't you hear it this morning?" Fred replied, "Dad's urgent mission was him. He said he suspected someone broke into his house and blew up the trash can at the door."

"No wonder, but he does look a little crazy like this—" Ron whispered fearfully.

"Don't say that," George interrupted Ron. "Dad still looks up to him, and I heard he's an old friend of Dumbledore."

"Daddy still collects Muggle plugs," said Fred. "Dumbledore isn't what you'd call normal, right? I mean, I know he's a genius, he's amazing…"

"Moody was a great wizard back then."

Clark was now introducing Hermione and Neville.

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

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

Seeing the confused look on Hermione's face, he continued:

"So to speak, he filled half of the cells in Azkaban.

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

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

Hearing Moody's great achievements, Neville couldn't help but admire, "He's really amazing, you know, I've wanted to be an Auror since I was a kid."

Whether facing everyone's cold and fearful attitude, or being watched by those eyes of awe and admiration, Moody, who was sitting on the teacher's seat, seemed indifferent.

He ignored the large can of pumpkin juice in front of him, reached into his travel cloak, pulled out a curved wine bottle, and took a swig.

When he raised his arm to drink, the cloak he was dragging on the ground was pulled up a few inches, and Clark saw a few inches of wooden prosthetic legs showing under the table, with a claw-shaped foot underneath.

At this time, Dumbledore cleared his throat, and after introducing Professor Moody, he once again talked about the topic he had not finished.

"As I just said."

He smiled at the multitude of students in front of him, even though they were still staring at Mad-Eye Moody.

"Over the next few months, we will be proud to host a very exciting event that has not been held in over a century.

It is my great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year. "

"You are joking!"

The tension that had hung over the auditorium since Moody's entrance was shattered.

Almost everyone cheered, and persuaded Brido to also chuckle in appreciation.

Students born in wizarding families more or less know some news about the Triwizard Tournament, and those Muggle-born students are also rushing to inquire. discussed excitedly.

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

"I believe that most of you have already learned what the Triwizard Tournament is from your own parents, brothers, or parents and brothers of your friends, if some of you still don't know what this Tournament is what's going on..."

Dumbledore spread his hands and smiled, "Then let's read a book."

"What I want to say here, though, is that in October, the principals of the other two Triwizard schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, will arrive at Hogwar with their carefully selected contenders. tz.

The ceremony to select the warriors will take place on Halloween, and an impartial referee will decide which students are most eligible to take part in the Knife Triumvirate and earn honor for their school.

In addition, the individual who wins the championship will also receive a thousand Galleons bonus provided by the Ministry of Magic. "

"I'm going!" said Fred Weiss in a low voice from across the table. "No one can stop me, I say!"

Although he is already wealthy, he still glows with excitement when he thinks of the possibility of obtaining such honor and wealth.

At this moment, he is not the only person who fantasizes about becoming a Hogwarts warrior like him. In front of the desks of each academy, people can be seen either watching Dumbledore frantically, or whispering excitedly with their neighbors.

However, they were still too young, and Dumbledore's next words, like the lake water in the cold winter and twelfth lunar month, instantly extinguished their fiery restlessness.

"I know you're all eager to win the Triwizard trophy for Hogwarts," he said, "but the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic agree that there should be an age limit for this year's contenders."

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

"Only students who are seventeen years old or older, that is, students over seventeen years old, are allowed to sign up for consideration."

"we think-"

Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, because some people protested angrily after hearing his words, such as the Wesley twins suddenly becoming angry.

"I personally think this measure is necessary because the competition program is still very difficult and dangerous, and no matter how much precautions we take, it is simply impossible for students below the sixth and seventh grades to deal with it.

I myself will make sure that no underage student deceives our impartial referees into becoming a Hogwarts warrior. "

His blue eyes gleamed meaningfully 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 into his ear.

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

"Life gets bad news every now and then, doesn't it?" Clark laughed. "If I told them on the train, they'd be as mad at me as they are now."

At this time, George and Fred were waving their fists to protest, but Headmaster Dumbledore ignored them and continued to speak to himself.

"A delegation from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive in October and spend most of the school year with us.

I think you will all be warm and friendly while our foreign dignitaries are here, and that once the Hogwarts warrior is finally chosen, you will all support him or her wholeheartedly.

Well, it's getting late, and it's important that you walk into class fresh and clear tomorrow morning.

Go to bed! hurry up! "

Dumbledore sat down and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody.

The Wesley twins below were about to continue their troubles, but were ruthlessly suppressed by Professor McGonagall.

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

"They can't do that!" said George Weiss, not following the crowd to the door, but standing there glaring at Dumbledore angrily, "We'll be seventeen next April, why not let us Shall we try?"

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

"Yeah," said Ron, with a look of confusion on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons, I haven't seen that much money yet..."

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

"Who will be the impartial referee who judges who the Warriors are?" Neville asked suddenly.

Clark smiled mysteriously, "It's going to be a guy you never guessed."

George and Fred followed behind him and happened to hear this.

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

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

"Yeah, but it's not up to him to decide who's a warrior, right?" George said tactfully.

"From what I heard, it seemed that the referee would pick the best one from each school as long as he knew who wanted to participate. He didn't care how old they were. He wanted to stop us from signing up. It was Dumbo who set the age limit. profitable.

Right, Clark? "

Clark nodded, and I have to say that these two brothers are quite smart and can always find loopholes in the rules.

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

At this point they passed through a door hidden behind the tapestry and went up a narrower staircase.

"Yeah," Fred said nonchalantly, "but that was years ago, right? And, what's the fun without a little risk? Hey, Ron, if we can fool Dumbledore, do you want to participate?"

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

"Are you going to attend?" Hermione asked Clark suddenly in a low voice.

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

"That's right," Clark nodded, "As far as I know, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have their own unique magic systems that are different from Hogwarts. UU Reading www.uukanshu.com"

Speaking of which, Clark remembered the beautiful mixed-race Veela he met when he traveled to France during his first-year summer vacation, and the black-and-white witch of her world, Kuyinla.

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

As they discussed, they walked up the stairs to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

The entrance is 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 snapped forward, revealing a large hole in the wall.

They climbed in through the hole. The circular common room was filled with tables and floppy armchairs.

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

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

The six four-poster beds stood in two rows against the wall, with a crimson drapery hanging over them, and each man's suitcase was at the foot of the bed.

Several people put on pajamas and lay on the bed that had been heated by the house-elf with the stove in advance, listening to the storm raging outside, it was really comfortable.

"You know, I might be in," Ron continued to rattle in the dark. "If Fred and George figured out a way to... enter the Tournament... no one can tell..."

Beidi Pavilion

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