Harry showed a confused expression. He handed the letter to Hermione and Ron who were eager to read it.

"Ms. Jane, judging from your writing skills alone, you are not suitable for writing books. You are a little too straightforward... This is a joke. I suggest you write from the perspective of the girl's orphan, and gradually unveil the veil of the past... As for how to string them together, you might as well find a theme that runs through the whole story.

Why does the mayor protect civilians?

Why is the boy willing to be an undercover?

How did the girl's orphan survive?

As an aside, some information is only known to the person involved and the people closest to them, but it seems puzzling to bystanders. For example, I have a Niffler named Valen. . Only I know how many hours it sleeps a day, and only I know that it has been addicted to games recently... If one day it stops spending money, don't be surprised, it may be because I banned its pocket money.

After reading your story, I am still sure of this.

Finally, I suggest changing the name of the owl. It didn't seem very happy when I called it'Juvijoan'. "

Hermione finished reading the letter and seemed thoughtful: "Is it really bad?"

Ron chuckled, "I said Hedwig shouldn't be named after the piglet, that's too stupid." Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"You agreed at the time." She looked at Harry as if asking for advice.

Harry didn't notice her gaze, he lowered his head and pondered, "The theme throughout the whole article...what will it be? Guilt? Not quite, Voldemort has no guilt. "

"Dude, the answer is quite obvious." Ron said. Harry stared at him, and Ron turned his head and whistled.

On the weekend, Harry ran into Snape at the door of the library again. Snape came out holding two thick books.

Harry felt relieved. This meant that Snape had not yet locked onto the key word Horcrux. Thinking about it carefully, it made sense. Hermione had searched the restricted section for reference materials but couldn't find any. She even knew the name of the Horcrux!

The only book that mentioned the word Horcrux was "The Most Toxic Magic", but the author of this book seemed to be deliberately teasing people and only said half of the words.

How disappointed Harry was at the beginning, how fortunate he was now.

"Potter! What are you doing?" Snape strode over and said coldly. From this angle, Harry could see that the cover of the book he was holding was a distorted face of a wizard. He seemed to be suffering from inhuman torture, and his mouth was open enough to fit half a coconut.

"I came to the library to find a book to read," Harry said.

He moved his eyes away from the cover of the book and stared at Snape's face. This was a completely spontaneous reaction. Since their first meeting, Snape had shown a strong and unreasonable hatred. Harry also hated Snape, whether it was his slow, drawn-out way of speaking, his cold, stone-like eyes, his greasy hair, and his huge hooked nose.

These factors made Harry dislike him, not to mention that they were together. Even without these, Harry didn't think Snape was a qualified teacher. His partial attitude was well-known. Even Sirius was restraining himself to be fair, but Snape deducted points unscrupulously...

"I don't think so. You seem to be waiting for someone?" Snape said maliciously. He stared at Harry's bulging pockets. "I guess you have contraband in your pockets. Hand it over. Filch will be interested."

Harry took the thing out obediently. It was a liquid-like silver-gray substance that fell from his palm to the ground, piling up in a pool and sparkling.

Snape took a breath of cold air.

"This is my Invisibility Cloak, a relic left to me by my parents. It has saved me several times from Voldemort." Harry stared into his eyes and said, "Professor Snape, is it a contraband?"

Snape didn't speak for a long time.

The two seemed to be engaged in a silent contest, at least that's what Harry thought. He was prepared for this. If Snape intended to confiscate it, it would suit his taste. He could turn around and ask for it back, because the Invisibility Cloak was a birthday gift from Headmaster Dumbledore.

Snape moved his eyes away from the Invisibility Cloak and stared into Harry's eyes. After a while, he said coldly, "Put it away!"

Harry slowly bent down and picked up the Invisibility Cloak from the ground. At this point, he didn't know what to do. His plan didn't tell him what to do next. Hesitantly, he felt a black screen in front of his eyes, a gust of wind blew past, and the hem of the black robe brushed his hair. Harry looked up and saw only a hurriedly leaving back.

Harry stared at Snape's back, and a strange emotion fermented in his heart. In the evening, he pushed open the door of the common room, and Ron and Hermione surrounded him anxiously, "Where have you been, Harry? Yeah, we looked everywhere."

"I went to the bridge." Harry muttered.

"The bridge?" Ron looked at him in confusion, "Why go there, it's so cold outside"

"Thinking about something." Harry said vaguely, he returned to the dormitory, did not take off his clothes, and lay directly on the four-poster bed. He did not sleep well that night, resulting in a daze the next day, and went to class with dark circles under his eyes.

"Tell me what color this is, Potter?" In the potions class, Snape's eyes flashed with malicious light, and he scooped out the potion in Harry's crucible with a spoon and let it flow back, and all the students in the class could see it clearly.

"Green." Harry said stiffly.

"What color should it be?" Snape asked again in his unpredictable voice.

"Pink." Harry replied.

"Pink, so you can tell the difference." Snape repeated, and there was a burst of laughter around. "Then you should know that what you brewed is just a pot of waste water... You can only get zero points, Potter." He waved his wand and the liquid in the crucible was swept away.

Harry sat down expressionlessly, shaking with anger. He didn't do it well enough, but Goyle's potion was a mess, and Crabbe's crucible was emitting bursts of stench and black smoke, but Snape gave him zero points. It doesn't take a brain to know that Snape is targeting him.

He stared at Snape's back as he returned to the podium. This time Harry didn't have any messy thoughts in his mind. He just wanted to curse him. The Bat Curse had a different temptation for him at this time. He had already imagined a group of bats flying out of Snape's huge hooked nose.

"Don't be impulsive, Harry." Hermione tried to persuade him to calm down. Ron didn't have time to talk. His crucible was steaming and spitting out yellow bubbles.

…

Felix had been wondering how Voldemort's spies in the Ministry could appear in the school until late January, when he heard Sirius' complaints.

"Looking for trouble," Sirius muttered quietly. It was breakfast time, and he was dealing with a piece of steak that looked very tough. The knife and fork hit the plate with a teeth-grinding sound. "I don't know why the Ministry of Magic sent a team into the school at this critical moment to check the effects of Apparition and Follower Manifestation... Don't they trust me?"

"Not bad, Professor Flitwick praised you." Felix said casually while flipping through the Daily Prophet.

"It's his habit." Sirius was still struggling with his steak, and the plate broke because of excessive force. He pointed his wand angrily, and the plate immediately returned to its original state. He pointed again, and the steak broke into pieces.

"No, I have to ask Amelia to see what she is doing!"

Felix had no intention of interfering. He closed the newspaper and drank the last bit of milk.

"What are you busy with lately?"

"Building a house."

"Um, sorry?"

"Really building a house," Sirius said vaguely while wolfing down his beef, "Building various terrains. You know you can't do these things in the castle, and I think classroom seven is not real enough... I want to take the students to the Shrieking Shack for adventure, so that I can set up some traps."

"You are still on probation," Felix reminded him.

"Thank you."

The two went to class separately. The atmosphere in the seventh-year ancient magic class was very relaxed. Although it was the last year, with all kinds of novel teaching techniques, the students' progress was always fast. This was the subject they had least to worry about.

Felix took the students to classroom seven. Two ghosts floated in front of them, chatting as they walked, "Today's dessert is good."

The students were used to it.

One by one, they passed through a barrier that looked like a water wave. Felix stopped at the door and waited for the last student to jump in. After a few seconds, a figure exactly like him condensed in the air.

Felix's memory looked up and down at his original body and grinned, "Are you going to do something bad?"