His "generosity" was met with Harry's silence and sharp and cold eyes, which made him realize that he couldn't get away with just two layers.

Ludo looked at Harry with a painful look: "That's already a lot."

"I'm not interested in any of that," Harry responded. "I don't even know what the third project is, so how can I make any promises?"

As he spoke, he paused slightly and looked over meaningfully: "You are so eager to drag me into this, are you planning to let me bear part of the responsibility if the bet loses?"

Ludo laughed awkwardly: "How could I possibly do that!"

Harry didn't say anything, and neither did George and Fred. Hermione also sighed, wanting to say something but failing to do so.

How could this person have such a wrong perception of himself?

"Harry, are you really not going to give it a try?" Ludo asked again, somewhat unwilling to give up.

This time, Harry simply shook his head and refused.

Although this does seem to be a promising way to make money, Harry doesn't want to have too much to do with a gambler, especially one like him who would do anything for money.

Ludo frowned.

For him, this is the most worrying situation.

"Then Harry, would you..." Ludo hesitated and stopped talking.

Harry interrupted him: "Don't worry, I won't be so indecisive."

Ludo nodded, thoughtfully.

After Garlon finished counting, Ludo left with a clang of bells.

George and Fred swung the bags of Galleons like meteor hammers.

"Let's go to Hogsmeade!"

"I've long wanted to taste Ms. Rosmerta!"

George stopped immediately and looked at his brother with a complicated expression: "No, you can't, she is very old, even Dad won't accept it, let alone Mom."

The "Ms. Rosmerta" they were referring to was the owner of the Three Broomsticks, the best tavern in Hogsmeade, a very charming lady.

She wasn't particularly good-looking, not as good-looking as Hermione.

Even among ordinary people, he is not considered outstanding.

But she is very charming, both in personality and figure.

A mature, wealthy woman, she is the dream lover of many fifth, sixth and seventh year wizards at Hogwarts.

Sometimes, when the senior students got drunk, boys and girls would get together to discuss how to pursue Ms. Rosmerta and become the master of the Three Broomsticks.

Fred shook his head in horror, realizing what he had said. He opened his mouth and was about to explain, "No, that's not what I meant. Madam Rosmerta is very charming, but how could I..."

George became even more horrified than Fred. "No, that's even more impossible. Ms. Rosmerta is a serious person."

"I mean Dragon's Blood Whiskey!" Fred's ears turned red with anger, and he shouted loudly, "A bottle of Dragon's Blood Whiskey costs one Galleon!"

George was suspicious: "Really?"

"Any other ideas?" Fred grinned and launched a money offensive, throwing it at George.

George was not willing to be outdone. They played and fought, dragged Hermione with them, and met Ron, who was notified by Harry's Patronus, at the door of the Three Broomsticks.

As soon as you enter the pub.

Mr. Weasley generously paid out two gold Galleons: "Ms. Rosmerta, two bottles of Dragon's Blood Whisky."

Dragon's blood has twelve uses, not one of which is alcohol.

This is just a product of a bunch of drunkards entertaining themselves.

As the most famous whiskey in the wizarding world, it is very dangerous, especially pure dragon's blood whiskey.

Madame Rosmerta dug two bottles out of the wine cellar.

He took out five thumb-sized wine glasses, looked at Harry, hesitated, and replaced one of them with a normal-sized cup.

He glanced at Hermione and Ron again and took back the two cups.

The wine was extremely viscous, with a snot-like texture. The smell of alcohol and blood surged out at the same time, choking Hermione and making her eyes dizzy. Tears immediately rolled out.

George and Fred also looked a little unhappy.

Oops, that was a bit hasty!

Harry's expression remained unchanged as he swirled the cup and took a sip.

The scorching breath cut through the throat and slashed down the esophagus, almost burning the body.

There was a gleam in his eyes.

I will no longer complain that the wizard's wine is not tasty enough. In terms of taste and the stimulation it brings to the body, it is not much worse than the White Seagull.

Harry blushed!

George and Fred turned even greener.

They all knew that Harry was a heavy drinker. He could drink a bottle of vodka or whiskey without blushing or feeling any heart palpitations. It would take all the young wizards in the Lion Court to make Harry drink to this extent.

But now only one bite.

"You don't want to drink it?" Madam Rosmerta looked at their hesitation and joked, "Of course, it's okay if you don't drink it. After all, this is dragon's blood whiskey."

"Not even the most mature man would order one, let alone you two little wizards."

George and Fred were preparing to descend the ramp, and raised their hands as if to push their drinks to Harry.

Madam Rosmerta sighed and looked at Harry: "What a pity, Harry is too young, and..."

She said nothing, just smiled at Hermione.

"I wish I could meet a man who can drink dragon's blood whiskey in the future."

She hunched over the bar, her chin resting on her hands.

Hermione's eyes widened.

George and Fred looked at each other, took a deep breath, and saw courage in each other's eyes. Mrs. Rosmerta had said so much, so they had to drink the wine.

Drink it down in one gulp.

The world was spinning and they were suddenly wearing clothes.

After a while, the two of them started talking nonsense, saying that once we finished running the Weasley Brothers Joke Workshop, we would marry Mrs. Rosmerta and make her Jordan Lee's wife.

The relationships were so complicated that Hermione and Madam Rosmerta couldn't even count them on their fingers.

Harry was just about to take money out of George's pocket and take them away, at least without being embarrassed outside the Gryffindor common room.

Hagrid pushed the door open and walked in.

His face was filled with frustration. He didn't even look up at the people in the bar. He lowered his head and walked familiarly to a corner, then waved towards the counter in a half-dead voice.

Madam Rosmerta waved her wand, and a box of wine that had been prepared long ago flew towards Hagrid.

Harry took a quick glance and saw that it was all high-concentration liquor.

"What's going on, Professor Hagrid?" Harry let go, leaving George and Fred behind. The two of them grinned foolishly and crawled forward like caterpillars.

"I'm not sure." Rosmerta shook her head. "He's been like this since Christmas. He comes two or three times a week. During the holidays, he comes every day."

"It's a good thing for me though, Professor Hagrid is now the Three Broomsticks' biggest customer."

"It's only been two months, and he has already spent over a hundred Galleons on me."

The consumption of the Three Broomsticks is not high. After all, the young wizards of Hogwarts are also an important source of customers for this store.

Even if you come here every day, you may not be able to spend a hundred Galleons on Three Broomsticks in a year.

"But I'm really worried about him. Even though he's very strong, something bad will happen sooner or later if he continues like this." Rosmerta frowned, and her tone was sincere, not the kind of false sincerity directed at a guest.

Hermione tugged at Harry's sleeve.

"I heard it was because of feelings?" Rosmerta lowered her voice. "Have you heard of that?"

"It seems that he is pursuing Ms. Maxime..."

Ron responded to her: "Of course we know, or rather, almost no one in Hogwarts doesn't know the news now."

"How could he ever think of pursuing Madam Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons?" Madam Rosmerta sighed again, "That kind of woman..."

Harry interrupted her: "Ms. Maxime is just an ordinary headmistress."

Rosmerta looked at him in surprise.

As the principal of one of the three best magic schools in Europe, how could he be described as "mediocre"?

But think about it.

Judging from Harry's current achievements and performance, it is not an exaggeration to use this word to describe Ms. Maxime.

"Hagrid is more than a match for her." Harry emphasized, his tone solemn, "Although Hagrid looks a little clumsy and even easily makes people feel incompetent."

"But he is the best master of magical creatures in the wizarding world right now."

Harry paused, then added two words: "One of them."

Madame Rosmerta was even more surprised.

How could Hagrid receive such high praise from Harry?

Harry stood up, dropped two Galleons, paid for Hagrid's drinks, and walked over to him.

He hadn't drunk much, so his mind was still clear: "Harry, when did you come?"

"A little earlier than you." Harry sat down.

Hagrid waved his hands: "Sorry, I didn't see it, so now you are..."

"Are you welcome to drink with me?" Harry picked up a bottle of wine, tapped his wand, and the cork flew out.

Hagrid looked at him with some envy and nodded, "Of course, I welcome it."

Harry stopped talking and drank with him in silence.

A demon hunter and a half-giant.

Alcohol is unlikely to cause much trouble for them.

A box was finished quickly.

Rosmerta hastily picked out the strongest batch of the remaining liquor and sent it over. She frowned and waved her wand, using food magic to speed up the brewing of the liquor.

He also asked Ron for help in sending a letter, as the tavern was running low on brewing materials - magic couldn't create food out of thin air, and food magic could only speed up the production process.

Hagrid drank more now that he had company.

It wasn't until dark that he finally got drunk and fell unconscious on the table.

Harry was also half drunk. He waved his wand, sent Hagrid flying away, and gave him three more Galleons.

"Mr. Potter, are you okay?" Madam Rosmerta's face turned pale. On the one hand, she was tired from casting spells non-stop, and on the other hand, she was scared by them.

She had never seen two people so fierce.

Three boxes of liquor!

A normal person can’t even drink so much water!

Harry shook his head: "Don't worry, it's okay."

He pulled a potion from his hat and drank it, his drunkenness slowly wearing off.

The next day, after Hagrid sobered up, Harry continued to drink with him.

Until Sunday night.

After being hungover for three days in a row, Hagrid burst into tears.