94 Diagon Alley

    A textbook of Defense Against the Dark Arts was found in a schoolbag of the twins, "Quick! Teach me how to resist the Imperius Curse before I'm manipulated by him to do something stupid."

    Fred and George touched their noses awkwardly, "It's hard. We can't resist."

    By the time she took this class in fifth grade, Gwen had yet to find the way to resistance. So she could only carefully observe each classmate who was being cursed and Moody who used the curse lightly over and over again.

    Few people can resist the Unforgivable Curse, although the professor claims he uses the gentlest of methods - "like a child's wand compared to a dark wizard".

    Gwen, who had just been manipulated to learn how to climb a tree with monkeys, got down from the bookcase and finally realized what the sense of disobedience this class brought her.

    There was something wrong with his wand. Gwen judged with the knowledge of holiday tonics. Moody's wand wasn't the right one for him, and he was a little out of touch with it. Maybe he did show mercy to the students, but it could also be because he couldn't use the wand's full power. However, this is not obvious. If you use other wizard's wands casually, the Advanced Transfiguration Charm you cast on Malfoy last time is difficult to succeed...

    "Typically, when a wand is won, its allegiance changes."

    Gwen remembered what Garrick had said to himself. Then it all makes sense, if someone beats Moody, there's a good chance he'll get that wand and get into Hogwarts some other way. More plausible evidence is that the wand is still slightly mismatched because the wizard using it now is a dark wizard - and Moody is an Auror, anyway the Ministry of Magic forbids them from using the Unforgivable Curse. Thinking of the riots of the Quidditch World Cup and the Dark Mark, Gwen had a terrible idea.

    She stopped Harry pressing his forehead in the common room, when he had just returned from the owl shed, and seemed to have sent a letter to his godfather.

    "Harry, sorry, I wonder if you have the Marauder's Map?"

    The boy with glasses froze for a moment, rubbed his scar, "Ah, of course. Holiday Sirius and Lupin helped me improve it, as everyone discussed earlier. We give each The names are sorted with parchment of different colors..."

    Gwen impatiently pulled him directly to the corner, "Can you lend me a look? Harry, just now."

    Although Gwen felt a little nervous, Harry kindly went upstairs to get the parchment.

    "I solemnly swear I have no good intentions." Harry pointed at the parchment with his wand, and a map of Hogwarts emerged.

    Gwen saw that the students of the four colleges were distinguished by red, green, blue and yellow, and all the professors' names were gold, and Filch's name really followed Three big exclamation marks.

    "If it's someone outside of school," Harry added, adjusting his glasses, "as long as he's ever registered at Hogwarts, it's white parchment and white footprints. Big feet. Tossed with the moon face for two days, but I have to say, it does work to hide the professor."

    Gwen nodded, then she glanced at the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's office on the third floor. Alastor Moody's name was quietly emerging there, gleaming with golden light.

    She breathed a sigh of relief, it seemed that the current professor was indeed Moody himself. The talents of Lupin and Sirius are enough to keep the map effective. Then the previous conjecture should just be his own stereotype, maybe Moody is such a neurotic and terrifying wizard.

    "Why are you staring at Moody?" Harry was puzzled.

    "I just thought he was scary," Gwen explained casually.

    Harry didn't find it strange, after all, Moody's fake eyes and scarred face were indeed a bit scary. But he still had two nice things to say about the professor: "He's fine, Gwen. He taught us a lot of spells. Last time Neville was terrified by his Cruciatus, he left Neville to talk after class. already."

    "Okay," Harry believed in the map, although Harry's words were no reason to dissuade Gwen. "If he treats you well, then there's probably nothing to worry about." Anyway, the bad guy will give priority to the Savior, and Gwen is relieved.

    The Goblet of Fire and the Lover's Kiss

    One day at the end of October, there was an anticipatory joy in the air. In the class, no one was paying attention to the lecture, and everyone thought that the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were coming tonight. The castle appears to be undergoing a thorough cleaning. Several dirty portraits were scrubbed clean, and the scrubbed figures were very unhappy about it. They sat huddled in the frame, muttering sullenly, grinning in pain every time they touched the new pink tender flesh on their faces. The armor suddenly became shiny and no longer creaking when it moved.

    Gwen went downstairs for breakfast to find the auditorium renovated overnight. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table, next to Fred and George. This time, the two twins avoided the crowd unusually, discussing something in a low voice. Ron led the way towards them.

    "It's not very pleasant, I admit," George said to Fred in dismay, "but if he doesn't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter. Or The letter went straight into his hands. He couldn't hide from us forever."

    "Who's hiding from you?" Ron said, sitting down beside them.

    "Hope you can hide from us," Fred said, seeming unhappy to be disturbed.

    "What's not so pleasant?" Ron asked George.

    "There is a silly little brother like you," George said.

    Gwen sat abruptly next to the twins despite the resistance on their faces.

    "Even if I spend ten hours a day studying O.W.L.s and two hours worrying about exams and new professors, I can tell you guys have something on your mind." Gwen spreads jam on a slice of bread Say. "And it doesn't seem to have anything to do with... ageing agents..." Gwen vaguely skipped the potion's name.

    To her surprise, this time Fred's words were almost on his lips, and George shoved it back with the bread in Gwen's hand.

    "Nothing, Gwen." George answered, avoiding her eyes.

    The twins then quickly wiped the breakfast off their plate and fled in despair.

    "Why don't we tell Gwen? She has a lot of weird ideas in her head, maybe she can help us get Jin Galleon back." Fred was a little angry.

    But George looked more agitated, usually more on his twin brother's face, which made things even more serious. "We can't involve her - in the end she will definitely give us her own money - how can I use her money..."

    Fred crossed his arms and asked bluntly, "What if it's someone else's money? Or is it that you can't stand to do business with your little girlfriend's private money?"

    George calmed down when he heard this, and persuaded: "Listen to me, Fred. We can make a few more new products, and the Triwizard Tournament will bring a lot of business opportunities. We're going to send a letter to that old **** to get Kim Galleon back from him—"

    Fred disagreed very much: "With candy and fake wands, we can't save a decent principal in three years."

    George was afraid that he would tell Gwen now, and said quickly, "And that perfume, we've almost done research, haven't we? There's a Christmas ball this year, and the witches will need it."

    Fred took a deep look at George and finally gave in. "Okay, bro." Then he patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, "but you know in your heart that Gwen will be angry with you over this." He said to himself again, "Then I'll be better than you. Find a girlfriend first. There's nothing wrong with that, if you insist."

    Gwen is really concerned about the twins' movements, especially since they have been quieter than ever. But that night, the high-profile Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived in anticipation. A huge powder-blue carriage flew towards them. It was the size of a house, and it was carried into the air by twelve winged horses, all silver-maned horses, each about the size of an elephant. A tall lady walked slowly down the golden spiral staircase—almost as tall as Hagrid.

    About a dozen or three boys and girls had disembarked from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. Judging from their appearance, they were all about eighteen or nineteen years old, and all of them were shaking slightly. This is not surprising, since the robes on their bodies appear to be made of fine silk, and none of them is wearing a cape.

    After a while, the black lake suddenly became no longer calm. There was a commotion in the water in the middle of the lake, with huge splashes on the water, and the waves crashing against the wet shore—and then, right in the middle of the lake, a large whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had suddenly been thrown from the bottom of the lake. Pulled out... Slowly, with great grandeur, the big ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It looked eerie, like a skeleton, as if it were the remains of a wreck that had just been salvaged, and the portholes flickered with a dim, misty gleam that looked like ghostly eyes. At last, with a thudding sound of splashing water, the big boat came out completely, tossed on the undulating water, and began to sail towards the shore of the lake. The people on the boat were coming ashore, and they were all about the same frame as Crabbe and Goyle... that's because they were all wearing a kind of fur cloak with a tangled tangle of fur. But the one who led them to the castle