Chapter 627 Party

Does Dumbledore really hold the Resurrection Stone? Two weeks later, Felix obtained the second information about the soul realm from Dumbledore, and he couldn't help thinking about this question. It was hard to judge from Dumbledore's behavior. His activities were very regular. He ate in the hall in the morning and occasionally appeared in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class during the day.

"Very good, Riddle, ten points to Slytherin." Felix said in class, looking at the boy with shiny black hair in the first row, "You are the first student who successfully turned a match into a needle. Is there any trick?"

Young Tom Riddle stood up.

"You must be familiar with the object before and after the transformation." He said.

"Yes, who here can be more familiar with needlework than an orphan." A student said in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, causing laughter around him. The little wizard and his companion looked at Riddle's second-hand robes and old textbooks with ill intentions.

"Silence," said Felix. "I thought you would feel ashamed, because your origin cannot be changed, but you can decide how hard you work." He looked at Riddle, who had a blank expression on his face. "Anything else?"

"I think it also depends on confidence and skills, Professor Dumbledore," said Riddle.

"That's accurate enough. Please take a seat." Felix leaned on the podium. "Transfiguration is a complex subject. It is more rigorous and scientific than most subjects. I personally think this is its advantage."

"Riddle just pointed out the method of learning Transfiguration, confidence, skills, and being familiar enough with the transformed objects... The first two can be acquired through training, but if you want to achieve something in the field of Transfiguration, I want to share my experience: keep enough love and curiosity for life..."

The bell rang for the end of class, and the students began to pack up.

Felix looked at Tom Riddle. For some reason, the sunlight shining on him always looked old, as if it was extracted from an old photo album. He left the classroom silently, followed a group of Slytherin students, and blocked them in a remote corner.

"Avery." Riddle said softly, "You seem to have an issue with the clothes I'm wearing."

"Oh, get out of here, redneck." Avery said mockingly.

"Redneck? I thought you would say something harsher, like... Mudblood." Riddle said in an emotionless voice. For some reason, Avery and his friends suddenly felt short of breath. Avery stuttered, "The school doesn't allow it."

"But it doesn't stop you from using it privately, right?" Riddle asked almost in a whisper, "Otherwise how would I know?"

Avery took a step back in fear, his back pressed against the wall.

"Listen, at least I haven't said it publicly. Don't try to threaten me by telling the professor, even if you have a good relationship with Professor Dumbledore--"

"Oh, you're scared," Riddle said contemptuously, "Dumbledore is on the side of wizards from Muggle families, so you have to keep your tail between your legs." Avery's face flushed with anger, but Riddle smiled, "Let's talk about the facts. The theory of bloodline is necessary. I have read similar interpretations in Muggle books."

The expressions on Avery and his companions' faces became confused.

"Nobles, that's what Muggles call those with noble blood. They have a stronger sense of honor than ordinary people. The achievements of their ancestors inspire them. They are born to do great things. Ollivander, who sells magic wands, said these words to me--" "

He also told me." Avery muttered.

"And me--"

"Me too."

Riddle's face flushed slightly, and a vicious look flashed in his eyes. He said slowly: "Maybe it's just a polite remark, but there is no doubt that I heard the call of the ancestral blood in my body. I felt it very clearly, right here in this school..." "

But you are an orphan." Avery said.

"My friend," Riddle stretched out his hand, and Avery held it in a daze. Then he became stiff and couldn't move. Riddle came closer and whispered in his ear, "When gold is mixed in the soil, its value will not decrease. The truly tragic thing is those who pass by it."

He let go of his hand, tilted his head and looked at the doubtful Avery, looking very satisfied.

"Very good," Riddle said easily, "I heard that Professor Kettleburn got some fire ash snakes. Do you want to go and see them?"

"We are only in the first grade," Avery felt that the physical restraints had disappeared. He hesitated and said, "You can't choose his class until the third grade."

Riddle sneered loudly and said impatiently, "Is this difficult? We just need to walk up to him and tell him what we want. To be honest, I am a little worried about what kind of education you have received. Even such a simple thing can make you hesitate."

Avery blushed, "I, of course I have learned it!"

But Riddle just waved his hand lazily, "Leave the task of self-introduction to me, you just need to show some courage and follow me..." His eyes stared at the few people fiercely, "Don't say you don't dare."

So an expedition was finalized, without even the slightest risk - Riddle told them that the time was a sunny weekend.

Riddle looked at Avery and his companions leaving, and his face returned to calm.

At this moment, applause rang out in the darkness. "Who?" Riddle shouted. He squinted his eyes and saw the brown beard in the darkness. His expression quickly became polite. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Little Tom, it seems that you have adapted well." Felix appeared with a smile.

Riddle's eyes flashed with a trace of panic. "Did you hear everything, sir? I don't want to defend myself, but," he said stubbornly, "I have to survive in school first."

"So you picked up that pedantic theory?" Felix asked gently.

Riddle's face turned pale.

"Swinging the knife at the weaker ones is one way," Felix said thoughtfully, "I'm more interested in how you plan to subdue Avery and the others, the Fire Ash Snake...ah, I see. Parseltongue."

"Then do you have a way to change my situation, sir?" Riddle no longer concealed and asked sarcastically, "A few days after the start of school, people were talking about me behind my back and laughing at my robes and textbooks. What did you say at that time? Study hard...of course, you haven't experienced it."

"On the contrary," Felix said, "We still have a lot of similarities."

Riddle looked at him, as if he was judging the truth of his words. There was no doubt that he had failed again. There was no extra emotion on his happy face, which made him annoyed and couldn't help but admire him secretly.

"I was sorted into Gryffindor College. A year before I entered school, my father Percival attacked three young Muggles. This matter was widely spread." Felix said lightly: "People regarded me as the son of a Muggle-hating person. They deliberately mentioned it in front of me and discussed it with relish. Some people with ulterior motives even highly praised my father's behavior."

"Then how did you fight back?" Riddle asked.

"Study with peace of mind." Felix said with a smile: "Maybe what I said below is not very humble - but I still think I am right - I am talented and the school courses are not difficult for me at all... It only took me a few months to stand out. People recognized me because of my own knowledge, not because I have a father who hates Muggles. I don't need to please anyone, but I am also generous in providing help and encouragement to students, so I made friends quickly."

Riddle thought for a moment and raised his head.

"You know I have an appointment with Avery, sir, and I still have to go see the Fire Gray Snake."

"Then go ahead, Tom. I can't stop you from making friends." Felix retreated and disappeared. The corridor outside was overcast at some point, and he knew that today would have to end here.

...

Felix came out of classroom seven, returned to the office, and watched an owl fly out of the window. The owl circled over the castle for two weeks and flew straight into the Gryffindor common room.

"You finally came out, Hermione, why are you so late?" Harry asked with energy. He and Ron were adjusting the bows on each other's dresses.

"I was just opening a present." Hermione said briefly. She was also wearing a beautiful dress.

"Did you receive anything strange?" Harry asked with interest.

"Lavender gave me a small bottle of love potion." Hermione blushed slightly.

Ron coughed violently.

"What is that?"

Hermione shut up. "Stop asking around." She glared at Ron fiercely, then looked at the clothes they were wearing. "Are you ready? Let's go." They went downstairs, and Ron was asking about the love potion with great interest all the way. "Who are you going to give it to?" "I threw it away." Hermione said with a straight face. Ron was very skeptical of this statement, but Hermione had already raised her wand and threatened to hang him on the balcony, so Ron had to shut up.

Harry felt very sorry. Although he had not said anything, he was still very curious.

Slughorn's office was much larger than an ordinary room, and - I don't know if it was prepared for a party. The ceiling and walls were hung with emerald green, crimson and gold curtains. From above their heads came the sound of ethereal singing, and several house elves walked around with trays. Ron picked up a chicken drumstick.

"It's shiny and bright. I guess it must be coated with honey." He said affirmatively.

"Harry, my child!" Slughorn strode over, beaming. "And Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, I just talked to someone about your brother, the youngest director!" He said to Ron, then took Harry's hand and walked inside, while calling Hermione and Ron to "help yourself."

"How did he know Percy became the director?" Ron muttered.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione said, eager to pick up a glass of mead and sip it. A drunken voice came from near her head. "Dear, I must say that this wine tastes a little bland."

Hermione turned around, and Trelawney stretched out an arm that seemed to be pickled in sherry, rubbed the tip of Hermione's nose and brought back a glass of mead.

"Thank you, Professor Trelawney." Hermione said coldly.

Trelawney was not affected. She drank the wine in the glass in one breath and smacked her lips with satisfaction. "It tastes not bad, the honey is added very well." Then, she seemed to finally see Hermione's face clearly.

"It's you," she said drunkenly, "I'm a little sorry that you gave up my class. You know, I don't just teach knowledge, I also -" She burped loudly, and Hermione frowned and took a step back. "And life experience... life wisdom and so on, I figured it out by myself, I can't learn it anywhere else... Smooth sailing is not necessarily a good thing. I saw... uh, angry faces in the crystal ball, alert... hidden dangers."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "Do you want me to be careful about being hit by the crystal ball in the dark? I'll pay attention, after all, the range is not large." Ron next to him laughed out loud, and while Trelawney was paying attention to Ron, she strode away.

On the other side, Harry seemed to be tied to the golden buttons of Slughorn's velvet dress, and he took him wherever he went. Before he could come to his senses, he had already walked around the spacious office.

"Have you learned it, Harry?" Slughorn lowered his voice and said in a heartfelt tone.

"Learn... what?" Harry asked breathlessly. He felt terrible, like a monkey on display. Everyone he saw gave him a fake smile, even those he thought he was familiar with, such as the Greengrass sisters, all put on a fake face and gave him a sweet smile.

"Establish connections." Slughorn said, "I can see that you are lacking in this area... Didn't your godfather teach you this knowledge?"

"Well, he is usually busy." Harry stammered.

"I really shouldn't," Slughorn shook his head and then said eagerly: "Although it's a bit presumptuous, maybe I should write him a letter, the last descendant of the ancient Black family..."

Harry stared, suspecting that Professor Slughorn was looking for an opportunity to get in touch with the Black family.

At this time, two people passed by the corner where they were hiding. Slughorn quickly stretched out his fat arm, but it was empty, but the arm continued to move, and in a blink of an eye, it wrapped around the person who was a little further away from him and pulled him over by force.

Harry exclaimed in his heart that this was brilliant, and thought that this move could be rated as one of the top ten saves of the year in Quidditch.

Valen, who was standing on Felix's shoulder, patted his chest with lingering fear, and looked at Harry who was trapped in the corner with some sympathy. Felix walked over and stood opposite Snape who was unable to move, with the corners of his mouth curved into a happy arc.

"Severus! Felix!" Slughorn shouted happily, holding Snape tightly with one hand. "Almost missed you! I just took Harry for a walk, you're welcome, I heard that you two are very close to Harry - I was just about to tell him, if he plans to go into politics -" "

I - don't want to - go into politics." Harry said angrily, struggling desperately. Because Slughorn kept trying to grab him and get him together with Snape.

Slughorn held up his fat finger. "But you want to be an Auror, don't you? Minerva told me about it. She thinks highly of you... but you can't spend your whole life catching dark wizards, can you? Severus, you should try to persuade him."

Snape narrowed his eyes, as if looking at a dead man. He said calmly, "I never knew I had such influence on Potter."

"Don't say that, Severus." Slughorn said with a smile. Harry knew that he had drunk a lot of wine and was now in an excited state. "I saw him using your old textbook. Yes, I recognized your handwriting at a glance. It was very sloppy. I criticized you back then..."

It's the end of the month again. I ask everyone for monthly votes!

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