The Plane Merchant of Hogwarts

Chapter 142 Lost in the North Tower

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"Ron, even if my class schedule is a little full, what does that have to do with you?" Rolf heard Hermione ask sharply when he just entered the restaurant.

"Let me tell you, I have completely negotiated it with Professor McGonagall, and I don't need your advice. I have my own solution."

Just as Hermione was about to say something more, Hagrid walked into the hall, wearing a moleskin coat and absently waving a dead polecat in one large hand.

Looking at him, he seemed a little nervous. After saying something to Harry and the others, he grinned at them, and then walked towards the teacher's desk, still waving the dead polecat.

It seems that he got some comfort from the trio.

Since elective courses are arranged based on students' choices, the number of people in each class is not very large. After all, no one will choose all the courses like Hermione.

Therefore, these elective courses were taken jointly by the four colleges. Rolf checked his course schedule while preparing to attend the first class. The auditorium began to become empty due to the departure of the wizards.

"Let's go quickly. I heard that Divination has to be taught on the roof of the North Tower. It's too far. We have to walk for at least 10 minutes to get there." Malfoy urged Rolf to go quickly while talking to Harry and the others. complained.

After all, the other three Gryffindors were used to climbing the eighth floor, and Malfoy and Rolf were not going to climb the stairs idle.

The journey from the castle to the North Tower is really long. Although the little wizards have been at Hogwarts for two years, they are still not familiar with everything in the castle. After all, they have never been to the North Tower for lessons before.

"There must be a shortcut," Ron said breathlessly. Looking at him, he usually climbed the Gryffindor stairs in vain.

At this time, they were climbing the eighth flight of stairs and came to an unfamiliar platform. There was nothing there except a large painting hanging on the stone wall, which showed a grassland.

"I think we should go this way." Hermione said as she looked towards the passage on the right, but since no one had been here before, they were facing the problem of getting lost.

While Hermione and Ron were arguing about the direction, Rolf, Harry and Malfoy all stood in front of a picture and looked at it with interest:

It was a fat pony with dark gray stripes. It had just jumped onto the grass easily and was grazing nonchalantly.

They were used to wandering around the Hogwarts pictures and visiting each other out of the frame, but they were always willing to observe them because it was interesting.

After a while, a short, fat knight in armor entered the scene with a clanging sound and began to look for his pony.

Judging by the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off his horse.

"Aha" he shouted, seeing Rolf, Harry and Malfoy, "Who is the scoundrel who dares to break into my private property and laugh at my accidental wrestling? Draw your sword, you scoundrel dogs. thing"

They were astonished to see the young knight draw his sword from its sheath and begin to swing it violently, jumping up and down with rage.

Rolf suddenly remembered a sentence that suited him very well: one operation is as fierce as a tiger's, and one glance at the score is 05

Perhaps the sword was too long for him, and a particularly large move caused him to lose his balance, causing him to fall face first on the grass.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked awkwardly, but he couldn't help him through the painting, so he could only ask politely.

"Go back, you dirty braggart, you scoundrel," the knight in the portrait mocked mercilessly. This was truly an unfriendly portrait.

The knight grabbed the sword again and used it to support himself to get up, but the sword was deeply embedded in the grass. Although he tried to pull it out with all his strength, he could not pull it out.

Finally, he had to sit down on the grass again with a pop, push up his visor, and wipe his sweaty face.

"Listen," Harry said while the knight was tired, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know how to get there, do you?"

The "Searching" knight's anger seemed to disappear immediately after hearing Harry's question. He stood up with a clang and shouted:

"Come, follow me, dear friends, and we will find our target, or else we will die bravely in the charge."

He went to draw the sword again, but still failed. He tried to mount the fat pony, but failed, so he had to shout:

"Then on foot, gentlemen and lady, forward, forward," and he clanked to the left of the frame, and was out of sight.

They followed him hurriedly along the corridor, following his crow, and now and then they saw him running past a painting in front.

"Be brave, there are worse things ahead," cried the knight, as they saw him reappear before a group of frightened women in crinolines, whose portraits hung on a narrow spiral staircase. on the wall.

They gasped for air, fearing that they would lose the funny little knight, and struggled to climb the spiraling stairs.

Although Rolf's physical fitness is already very good, his physical fitness does not care about dizziness. He only feels that he is getting more and more dizzy.

Fortunately, it was all over, and finally they heard the buzzing of voices above their heads and knew they had arrived in the classroom.

"Goodbye," cried the knight, turning his head into a picture of several sinister-looking monks.

"Goodbye, my comrades, if you need a noble heart and steely muscles, don't forget to call me Sir Cadogan"

"Yeah, we'll call you," Ron muttered, as the knight disappeared, "if we need any madmen."

They climbed the last few stairs and landed on a small platform. Most of the people in this class were gathered here, waiting for class.

There was no door on the landing. Malfoy pointed to the ceiling with a mysterious look, where there was a circular trap door with a copper plate on the door.

"Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher." Harry read along his fingers, "How can we get up there? Do we have to ride a broomstick?"

As if in answer to his question, the trap door suddenly opened, a silver ladder was placed at Harry's feet, and everyone fell silent.

The little wizards lined up and walked up carefully, and he came to the weirdest classroom he had ever seen.

In fact, it wasn't a classroom at all, more like a cross between a loft and an old-fashioned teahouse, with at least twenty small round tables crammed into the room.

Around each table were arm-chairs of Indian calico and bulging cushions, and everything was lit by a dull scarlet light.

The curtains were drawn, many of the lamps had crimson shades, the classroom was depressingly warm, the fireplace was full, and a large copper kettle was burning on the fire.

The flame emits a dull, greasy fragrance, which makes people feel greasy after smelling it.

The round walls are surrounded by shelves filled with dusty feathers, candle heads, worn playing cards, countless silver crystal balls, and a slew of tea utensils.

Perhaps only from these things can we tell that this is a divination classroom.

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