"Rowana always has a way. She's very smart." The Sorting Hat told an old story. "A forest like this is too dangerous near the castle."

"At that time, there were even a few dragons living here."

"Godric and Salazar thought that the Forbidden Forest should be a place for young wizards to be tested, but they failed to convince Rowena and Helga."

"So he added this condition to the trial of his heir: the most outstanding Gryffindor must be able to truly conquer this forest."

Harry kept a blank expression on his face as he collected the venom from the Acromantulas.

"Are you scared by the trial?" the Sorting Hat teased.

Harry shook his head, "No, I'm just relieved. It looks like George and Fred are not in any real danger."

The Sorting Hat continued to hum its little tune, reminiscing about the past.

Harry did not stop it this time. After all the venom was collected, nearly three quarters of a pint, he stuffed the bottle into the Sorting Hat and said softly, "Now we have to continue on our way. There is no need to sing anymore. Don't get me into trouble."

He is more careful.

But forests are dangerous, especially forests like this one filled with magical creatures, dark magic creatures.

Dragon claw vine waiting to be hunted.

The red hat is hidden in some shadow.

In the swamp, there are all kinds of mosquitoes, swamp diggers, and fire crabs, and they are far more dangerous than they are in the classroom.

Until dark the next day.

Harry took out the map, faced the moon, and re-identified his direction and determined his distance. He was much slower than he had estimated at the beginning, and still had nearly half the journey to go. It seemed difficult to return to the castle before Monday.

It was really sad to miss a class with Dumbledore.

He found a small slope and checked carefully inside and outside. After making sure there were no dangerous creatures, he set up camp under a tree.

Reach into the Sorting Hat.

He took out a thick dragon leather bag and opened it. There was another dragon leather bag inside. After opening it again, he shook out a pile of dry earth-like objects.

“Really, if it wasn’t for the trial, I wouldn’t let you put that thing in.” The Sorting Hat gritted its teeth, staring at the pile of things, and the whole hat twisted into a ball.

"But it's very useful in the wild." Harry waved his wand, and nearby dead branches and leaves flew over to form a simple bonfire in front of him.

He snapped his fingers.

The flames burned.

Harry broke off a piece of the clod-like thing and threw it into the fire. A strange smell wafted out and drifted along the wind.

This is dragon poop.

Dry, clumping dragon dung like this is not easy to get. Sirius spent two days searching before he got his hands on it.

Burning the feces of powerful creatures is one of the best ways to drive away sneaky creatures in the wild.

Harry leaned against the tree trunk, holding the sword of Gryffindor across his knees, squinting his eyes and meditating. In the wild he could not sleep as freely as he did in the dormitory. From time to time he waved his wand, added fuel, or broke off a piece of dragon dung and threw it into the fire.

Wait until dawn.

Harry was full of energy and set off again.

"Harry, have you really rested well?" The Sorting Hat asked doubtfully. The hat didn't need to rest. It didn't see Harry really sleep yesterday. Until now, the bonfire was still burning.

Harry stuffed the dragon dung back into the Sorting Hat.

The Sorting Hat hissed.

"No problem." He nodded and answered, "You can't ask for so much in the wild."

He continued on his way.

The deeper into the forbidden forest, the more dangerous it was than the previous path. This was an area that even centaurs would not set foot in.

Finally before the third sunset.

He finally reached the place marked on the map, a dilapidated garden, not very large, with a small pavilion and a cramped courtyard. Moss and vines covered the exquisite patterns on the walls and stone pillars.

At the exit of the garden, the stone door was violently damaged and showed traces of a crushing curse.

As expected, these were traces left by the previous trial-taker.

"There's a place like this deep in the Forbidden Forest." Harry said expressionlessly, "Gryffindor uses it to meet his lover?"

The Sorting Hat flicked its tip and said, "How should I know? This is my first time here too. The last trial-taker wasn't as bold as you are. He didn't dare to take me away from the headmaster."

"So you're admitting that Gryffindors often have trysts with their old lovers?" Harry asked in a gloomy tone.

The Sorting Hat poked Harry hard with the tip of the hat, deflated him a lot, "Hey, Gryffindor doesn't do that, at least not that I know of, and you can't expect him to go out on a date with a noisy hat."

Harry pulled out the tip of his hat. "You know you're noisy."

"I didn't!" the Sorting Hat said angrily.

Harry ignored it and waved his wand. The dead tree turned into a kitten and walked towards the garden. It raised its paw and walked in through the dilapidated stone gate. It turned around and walked over the vines and gravel.

There are no signs of any biological invasion.

This is even more bizarre.

Harry put the cat away and pointed his wand at the gravel door. The stones twisted into little men and set to work, destroying the garden until they had trampled every corner without setting off any traps.

"Godric is not that kind of person," the Sorting Hat yelled.

Harry put on a layer of Quin and another round of armor to protect himself, then walked cautiously into the garden.

He checked every spot, and found nothing special.

There are many signs of wear and tear over the years.

Harry couldn't see anything, he held the snake bone sword and walked towards the pavilion.

The pavilion had long been in ruins, with only a few stone pillars standing upright, with a faint aura of magic on them. It was these things that kept them from collapsing or being damaged even after thousands of years.

The patterns under the moss are exquisite.

Harry glanced over and his eyes stopped on the last pillar. In his senses, mixed in with the exquisite patterns, there was a symbol that was extremely glaring.

He stretched out his wand, transformed it into a sponge, and directed it to slowly wipe away the moss on the stone pillar.

One was very sloppy, but you could tell it was a swallow flying with its arms spread and wings spread.

How did it get here?

Harry had a look of surprise in his eyes.

"Oh, this pattern is a bit sloppy." The Sorting Hat commented, "Maybe it's eroded?"

Harry looked at the other pillars and began searching the garden again, but still found nothing.

There is only one swallow totem on that pillar, which is ancient and old, and was left behind thousands of years ago.

That is the symbol representing Ciri.

The girl who possesses ancient blood and can travel through time and space.

Has she been here?

"I think you may not find anything in the garden." The Sorting Hat suggested sincerely, "See the stone table in the middle of the pavilion? There is a crack on it. You can guess what it is used for."

Harry shook his head and pulled his thoughts back.

No matter what, continue the trial and you will always find out the result.

His eyes fell on the stone table that he had checked several times. He drew out the sword of Gryffindor, aimed it at the crack in the stone, and inserted it, fitting perfectly.

A surge of magical power emerged.

Thousands of years have passed, and the magic has not dissipated.

After a while, the magic power subsided, and an inexplicable magical fluctuation appeared on the sword of Gryffindor.

Harry took it.

His belly button was tickled, the world was spinning, and he was being pulled around in a vast, boundless space, feeling as if he was being stuffed into a washing machine and rolled around a hundred and twenty times a minute.

Blink and land.

Harry stumbled and cast an Alder forward.

"Hey, little Gryffindor, don't get so excited." A voice sounded, a little flustered, "It's just a portkey. Didn't you learn it in Charms class?"

Harry looked up.

I first looked around and found myself in an enclosed room with no windows or doors. It should not be underground, and there was no damp or cold feeling. The room was empty, without furniture or any furnishings.

Then he turned his eyes towards the direction where the sound came from.

It's a portrait.

A tall, handsome man with red hair and green eyes.

"Godric, why did you leave the portrait here?" the Sorting Hat exclaimed.

"Aha, you're here too?" Godric smiled faintly, "Five hundred years ago, I thought it would be our reunion."

"You should at least visit Hogwarts more often." The Sorting Hat glanced at the tip of its hat, feeling a little aggrieved.

Harry translated for it: "Before it met me, it was very lonely and could only serve as a scratching post or chat with the phoenix."

"Harry!" the Sorting Hat was shocked.

Godric laughed. "The trial agreement means I can't leave here easily. I also want to go back to Hogwarts. I wonder what it has become after a thousand years."

"Not bad." Harry nodded. "It's thriving. Except for a powerful dark wizard breaking in in the first year, a basilisk wreaking havoc in the second year, and being surrounded by Dementors in the third year, everything else is good."

Godric was stunned. "The headmaster is really unqualified for Hogwarts to be like this."

"Albus is excellent." The Sorting Hat gritted his teeth. "He has been the headmaster for nearly forty years. It is obvious that a series of things happened after you entered school. This is your problem."

Harry's expression was serious: "So what's my problem?"

The Sorting Hat was speechless.

Godric understood, and looked at Harry in surprise: "You are only in the third grade this year?"

Harry nodded.

"Godric, Harry is excellent." The Sorting Hat shouted proudly, "He drew the Sword of Gryffindor when he entered school, and look at its eyes, how much like a lion."

Harry was startled.

Godric whispered to him, "Eyes? Come over here and let me see."

Harry walked over.

He wondered if Godric knew something.

Godric looked at the portrait for a long time, shook his head, and said softly: "My dear hat, the lion's eyes are not vertical pupils, but round pupils."

The Sorting Hat was shocked.

"Do my eyes remind you of anything?" Harry asked directly.