Harry put the Sorting Hat on his head, stared at the black lining of the hat, and waited slightly nervously.
At this time, a little voice said in his ear: "Is there something you can't figure out, Harry Potter?"
"Oh, yes." Harry whispered vaguely, "Sorry to bother you, I wanted to ask..."
"You have always wanted to know whether I have placed you in the right academy." Hat said smartly, "Yes... it is indeed difficult to determine your position, but at least it is much easier to decide than that Maka McClain. …”
"Maka?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Yes! Haven't you been thinking about him?" the hat said softly, "McLean was supposed to go to Ravenclaw, but he went to Hufflepuff; and you were supposed to go to Slytherin. ,Can-"
Harry's heart sank suddenly. He grasped the top of his hat and took it off. The hat hung limply in his hand, dirty and faded.
Harry placed it back on the shelf, feeling sick.
"You are wrong," he cried aloud to the hat, which stood silent and silent.
The hat didn't move.
Harry stared at it and backed away. Suddenly there was a strange strangled cry from behind, and he turned around sharply.
Behind the door, on a high gilded perch, stood an old bird that looked like a half-plucked turkey.
Harry stared at it, and the bird looked at him sadly and made that strangled sound.
Harry thought it looked very sick - its eyes were lifeless, and while Harry was looking at it, a few more feathers had fallen off its tail.
Harry thought to himself that if Dumbledore's bird died and he and the bird were alone in the office, that alone would be enough for him...
Just as he was thinking this, Bird suddenly burst into flames.
Harry screamed in horror and backed up, hitting the table. He looked around anxiously, hoping for a glass of water or something, but he didn't see it.
Meanwhile, the bird has transformed into a fireball. It screamed, and then disappeared, leaving only a pile of ashes that had not been completely extinguished on the tray under the perch.
The door to the office opened, and Dumbledore walked in with a very solemn expression.
"Professor," Harry gasped, "your bird...I can't help it, it suddenly caught fire..."
Dumbledore looked at the pile of ashes on the tray, and a smile suddenly appeared on his originally solemn face.
"It's about time," he said. "It's been like that for days, and I've been telling it to hurry up."
He smiled softly at the look of shock on Harry's face.
"Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. When it's about to die, a phoenix burns itself to death and rises again from the ashes. You see—"
Harry turned his head just in time to see a tiny, wrinkled baby bird poking its head out of the ashes. It looks as ugly as an old bird.
"What a shame, today is the day of his death," said Dumbledore, sitting down behind the desk. "He was very beautiful most of the time - all amazing red and gold feathers. What a phoenix. Very strange and fascinating beings, they can carry extremely heavy things, their tears have healing properties, and they remain infinitely loyal to those they recognize."
In the panic caused by Fox's self-immolation, Harry temporarily forgot why he was here. But at this moment, when Dumbledore sat down on the high-backed chair behind the table and stared at him with his light blue, penetrating eyes, he remembered everything.
"Professor Dumbledore..."
"Is there something you want to tell me?" Dumbledore said gently, "It's okay, just speak slowly."
Harry found that when he actually faced Dumbledore, what he originally wanted to say became difficult to say.
Maka has always had a good relationship with him, and he even received a gift for Christmas last year—although he never read much of the notebook about "Occlumency".
But these are all proofs of friendship.
If Dumbledore was told what happened to Maka, wouldn't it be like...
No, this is also for Maka’s good! Perhaps as Hermione said, Maka was just affected by some dark magic, and this matter must be resolved as soon as possible.
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry took a deep breath and then said firmly, "I think Maka may have been affected by some kind of dark magic from Voldemort. He..."
Harry recounted everything he saw, heard and guessed. Including what Ron saw, what Hermione guessed, and what she felt, everything was told to Dumbledore.
"…That's it, Professor Dumbledore."
After he finished speaking, he looked at Dumbledore's face with complex eyes mixed with anxiety and expectation, hoping that the other party could give some solutions.
But who knew, Dumbledore just smiled.
"Don't worry! Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile, "Maka is fine. He has not been affected by any black magic. Yes, I know he has changed a lot, but this is his own choice. We need All you have to do is trust Him, that’s all.”
Dumbledore paused, then said: "What about you? Harry, is there anything else you would like to tell me? I mean - about yourself."
Harry was startled and hesitated.
He thought of Malfoy's cry: "It's your turn next, Mudbloods!"; and of the Polyjuice potion still simmering in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
Then he remembered the ghostly voice he had heard; he recalled Ron's words, "It's not a good sign to hear voices that no one else can hear, even in the wizarding world."
He also recalled what everyone said about him, and his growing fear that he might have something to do with Salazar Slytherin...
For a moment, Harry pursed his lips tightly due to the complicated doubts.
"No," said Harry. "Nothing, sir."
…
Justin and a nearly headless Nick are both attacked, turning the already tense atmosphere into a real panic.
Strangely enough, what frightened people the most was what happened to Nick, who was almost headless.
What could do such a thing to a ghost, people asked one another. What terrible force can harm a dead person? Students are literally scrambling to book seats on the Hogwarts Express, looking forward to returning home for Christmas.
As for Harry and the other three, they always fall into silence while chatting recently.
Although the Polyjuice Potion was almost ready, they didn't know whether they should use it or not.
Even though Harry told Ron and Hermione Dumbledore's answer, it did not provide much comfort, and the things to worry about did not seem to diminish.
After a lot of random thinking, they still planned to use Polyjuice Potion to test it with Malfoy, so that they could have something to do temporarily so as not to be too troubled by such and such thoughts.
Finally, the semester ended, and a silence as thick as the snow on the ground enveloped the entire castle.
Luna went home. She spent every Christmas at home with her father, and she didn't plan to make an exception this year.
Although she had asked Maka if she wanted to go to her house together and have a lively Christmas like last year, Maka did not agree this time.
He still had much to do, and he couldn't delay any longer.
But what he didn't expect was that this Christmas, he was not alone.
"There is a kind of flower, please help me look at it."
When Maka was sitting on the top floor of the astronomy tower writing something on the wall, a familiar voice sounded from the stairs.
"Miss Blois." Maka turned around and said, "Didn't you go back?"
"There is a kind of flower, please help me look at it."
Willie stood at the top of the stairs, still wearing the loose Slytherin robes, and calmly repeated what she had just said.
"..." Maka looked at Willy and asked after a while, "What kind of flower?"
"no name."
Willie took out a small cloth bag from her arms, opened it and showed it to Maka.
It was a handful of flower seeds, pink and white, with a faint psychedelic color.
Maka carefully picked up a flower seed, put it under her nose and smelled it, and immediately felt some pungent smell - the smell was definitely not good.
"I've never seen it before. It should be a relatively rare magical plant." Maka said. "It looks very similar to the seeds of crystal magnolia. It may also be a flower with high environmental requirements."
"Go and try planting. I'll help you apply for the fifth greenhouse."
Maka led Willy towards Professor Sprout's office, and soon they were about to get the key to the greenhouse.
In the fifth greenhouse, Maka quietly recorded the morphological characteristics of the seeds in herbal notes, while Willie stood nearby and spread the bottom soil on the flower pots.
Now the two of them don't like to talk. They are obviously doing things together, but there is no corresponding atmosphere.
Because of this, the efficiency of working was extremely high, and everything was done quickly.
Just when Maka was about to say goodbye, Willie took the initiative to speak.
"What about you?" she said suddenly.
"What?"
"Can you help me with anything?"
Willie's brief speeches seemed to have become a habit, and she always liked to omit the premise.
"Me?" Maka thought for a moment, then shook her head slightly and said, "No."
Willy pushed up the brim of her big pointed hat, looked at Maka quietly, and after a while she said quietly: "If there is... tell me."
After saying that, she turned around calmly, pushed open the greenhouse door and left.
Maka stood in the greenhouse, looked at the closed door and thought for a moment, and finally chased after him quickly.