"Mr. Crouch is dead." Ron said in an inexplicably sad tone, "Percy always admired him."

"He has always had Mr Crouch as his goal."

Hermione leaned over to look. She didn't have as good a dynamic vision as Harry, so she could only check slowly: "Harry? Do you suspect Crouch is not dead?"

"Confirm it." Harry shook his head and put away the Marauder's Map. "The Ministry of Magic is not as reliable as we think."

Hermione pulled Harry's arm: "I haven't seen it clearly yet."

Harry took out the map again and handed it to Hermione.

Early the next morning.

The news about Professor Moody spread throughout the college through the mouths of the little lions.

The curse came true again.

And he came very quickly, just because he had a conflict with Potter, and was hunted by the Ministry of Magic at night.

It wasn't until the third year students met Moody again in class that the "rumor" was dispelled. Moody also explained that there was just some conflict in teaching philosophy that night, and he had a discussion with his former colleagues in the Ministry of Magic.

He also made a lot of changes in teaching methods. At least he no longer talked about the Dark Arts at length. Instead, he brought the Auror training methods into the classroom. This was very useful, but it made the young wizards miserable.

They're not Potter!

If you have never thought about carrying a sword and fighting the enemy, why do you need to exercise?

The matter seemed to have been covered like that.

Only Harry was a little worried, and would occasionally take out the Marauder's Map. He would feel temporarily relieved when he didn't see any suspicious names.

The Daily Prophet did not report the incident.

Mr. Crouch is dead, and there is no evidence to prove the rumors that he colluded with the Death Eaters.

Until the weekend.

Harry got up, took the Sorting Hat with him, ran around the school twice, and stopped by the Black Lake.

"Have you always trained like this?" The Sorting Hat looked at Harry, who was breathing slightly, and was a little surprised. This was the first time that Harry took it out while exercising.

"Well." Harry faced the rising sun and opened his arms. "How's the morning view?"

"I haven't seen this for a long time." The Sorting Hat sighed, its tip twisted. "Put it on me now, so I can enjoy this long-lost feeling."

Harry put it on.

The Sorting Hat took a deep breath - although it had no such function, it seemed to be more intoxicated by the scenery.

"You brought me out here specially. What do you want to do?" The Sorting Hat was shaking on its head. Suddenly, when it was outside the Sorting House, it had to take on the responsibilities of a hat, which made it a little uncomfortable.

"I have a question for you." Harry said, taking it off and placing it on a stone beside him.

"Ahaha, you want to ask for advice?" The Sorting Hat was surprised. "Then you shouldn't be asking Professor Dumbledore..."

It is saying.

Harry took out a small bag from his pocket, waved his wand, and a motorcycle flew out of the bag and landed steadily on the ground.

"You have the items for the Traceless Extension Charm!" the Sorting Hat exclaimed, "Quickly take those things, except the Sword of Gryffindor, out of my body and put them in this little bag of yours."

This was something he only got during the summer vacation.

The Traceless Extension Charm is strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic, especially for private use. It seems that there has been a big incident caused by this spell. Sirius spent a lot of effort to get this thing.

Harry ignored its words and sat next to the Sorting Hat: "I'm thinking about injecting thoughts into this thing now."

"What is this?" Branch silently poked the tip of his hat, "A small carriage?"

It had never seen anything like it, which gave it a very odd sense of handsomeness.

"A motorcycle is a means of transportation for ordinary people. It is very fast, faster than a horse." Harry introduced it briefly. "And it is very easy to modify. At least now I will add flying, diving, and dust-free spells to it."

The Sorting Hat nodded its tip. "Why would we inject thought into an alchemical vehicle?"

"A good mount is one that can communicate with you," Harry replied. "That's too rigid. And don't you think a talking motorcycle is actually pretty cool?"

"You shouldn't ask me." The Sorting Hat shook its head. "I'm just a hat. I can't do magic."

Harry poked it. "I was wondering if I could make a copy of your mind and inject it into a motorcycle."

"My thoughts?" The Sorting Hat was stunned.

Harry nodded, "After all, you are very interesting and a very good friend, but I am already in my fourth year and will only stay in the castle for three more years at most."

"Of course I have no objection!" The Sorting Hat twisted its head and thought, "But if a copy of me is put into this motorcycle, then I will still be myself?"

"Perhaps there is some spell that can communicate with each other?" Harry patted it. "I'll go look in the restricted section, or ask Mr. Gryffindor directly."

The Sorting Hat was startled, and its tone became excited: "You mean, I can play with you outside while showing off what I have seen outside to Godric?"

Harry lowered his head and pursed his lips.

"That's great!" The Sorting Hat waved its tip and spun around quickly. "Godric always teased me during the summer vacation, you know? He has much more freedom than me. I can only stay in the headmaster's office, but he is a portrait!"

"He can travel through other portraits. During this time, he went to St. Mungo's, the Ministry of Magic, and even to Godric's Hollow. There are many things I have never seen."

"If I become a motorcycle, wouldn't I be freer than him? Haha, now it's my turn to mock Godric."

Harry deadpanned, "Mr. Gryffindor...would have an argument with his own hat?"

"This is a kind of fun." The Sorting Hat shook its head, "Just like you always tease Dumbledore and your godfather, we love each other."

"There's no need to use such corny words." Harry put away the motorcycle and raised his hat.

The Sorting Hat snorted, "Why should we hide love?"

For Harry, the biggest challenge in injecting the Sorting Hat's thinking into a motorcycle is the Sorting Hat's intention. Whether it is willing or not is what Harry cares most about.

That night, Godric appeared in the portrait in the lounge, crouching in a corner with Harry, whispering and plotting.

He provides Harry with a lot of advice and ideas.

It is not difficult to copy thoughts and inject them into a motorcycle. It just requires some special materials, some of which are very rare. However, for Harry, this is nothing, just a matter of spending a few more Galleons.

Wait until the second week of the school year begins.

Harry became busier.

The professors' detention still had to continue, even though the two spells that Dumbledore promised him had been taught. There were not many opportunities to pester Dumbledore, so Harry shamelessly went to his door on Monday night. Dumbledore seemed to be prepared and he even prepared a lesson plan in advance.

During Professor McGonagall's detention, Harry had to be more careful than ever before, not only because it involved a more advanced Transfiguration spell, but he also had to avoid Professor McGonagall discovering the mandrake leaf in his mouth.

And there was the indispensable detention by Professor Sprout, who, in the first week of class, announced before Harry and everyone else that Harry and Neville would be in detention for the entire school year.

Hermione even felt disappointed for a while because she was not put in detention.

Now the young wizards almost understood what the professors meant by their confinement for an entire school year.

Only the most outstanding young wizards who are favored by the professor can enjoy such treatment.

Potions class ended on Wednesday morning.

The young wizards were packing up their things, whispering, and preparing to leave as they had a spells class later.

"Mr. Potter, please stay for a moment." Snape stood on the podium, hesitated, and finally spoke.

The little wizards in the classroom rolled and crawled, waved their wands, and rolled up their things and left.

They still remember it vividly.

In the third grade, which was this year, after Professor Snape kept Harry back, they had a fierce fight at the end of the school year - although the professors repeatedly emphasized that it was a rumor, the young wizards believed it.

This is not a good sign.

"Professor?" Harry looked at him.

Snape came over and took out his wand with his right hand. Before he raised it, he put it on his waist: "I'm not going to cast a spell on you. I'm going to check your body."

Harry nodded.

Snape then waved his wand, and the magic power gently fell on him, from head to toe, from inside to outside. The feedback of the magic power made his expression slightly eased: "You are really lucky. That potion did not cause any damage to your body."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat and she looked at Snape intently.

"Only a madman would make that kind of potion." Snape noticed this gaze and sneered, "The effect is very strong, but it is almost the same as poison. Except for Potter who is lucky enough, others who drink it may only be powerful for ten minutes at most, and then die in agony."

Hermione looked at the Sorting Hat, stunned.

That potion is so dangerous?

"I remember that I only cut off your hand, not your eyes." Harry said expressionlessly, "You should be able to see that the potion is harmless to me. There is no need to be so alarmist and scare people who are not so proficient in potions."

Hermione's eyes widened and she gritted her teeth.

What does it mean to be someone who is not that proficient in potions.

Is it okay if my grade in Potions is also an "O"?

"You shouldn't talk back to the professor, Potter." Snape drawled out his voice. "I remember that you didn't seem to have to do boring things like Quidditch this year? Come and give me detention for those two days."

Having said that, he paused.

"You have some brains, but you should have read the letter I wrote you during the summer vacation?" he questioned.

Harry nodded: "Thank you for the birthday present."

"That was not a birthday present!" Snape emphasized, "It just happened that you disgusted me during those few days. No matter how reluctant I was, I am still a professor at Hogwarts, and you are also a student of Hogwarts. Such shoddy works should not appear in Hogwarts."

"It's rude and wasteful to pile up a bunch of rare materials and create a pile of garbage that is so toxic!"

"Potions is an art. Perhaps I should consider taking those notes back."

Harry reached into the Sorting Hat and pulled out another bottle of Thunder Potion, which was darker in color than the original. "Actually, I tweaked the formula over the holidays."

Snape's face changed: "Potter, what are you thinking! Do you really want to die?"

The formula had indeed been adjusted, but he could see that it was not what he had imagined - Harry had compensated for the shortcomings he had pointed out in the letter with a stronger toxicity. Of course, in return, the effect of this potion would become stronger.

"Don't worry, Professor. This is within my tolerance." Harry shook the potion bottle. "I don't need to consider this slight toxicity."

Snape frowned and gritted his teeth: "It seems that your hateful mutated eyes have also mutated your body!"

He put his wand away and held out his hand: "I will confiscate this bottle of potion."

"As your Potions professor, I should carefully examine your work."

Harry handed him the potion and continued to pack his things.

Wait until they carry the things and walk to the door.

Harry suddenly turned around and said, "Professor Snape, I will attend the two-day detention on time. I hope you can prepare the detention content in advance."

Snape snorted.