Dumbledore's surprises often contain enough fright.

In other words, his surprise must be more like a fright than your fright.

Therefore, no one likes the little surprises he carefully prepared.

Professor McGonagall, the vice-chancellor, is the least favorite.

When she entered school that year:

The headmaster was still Armando Dippet; the school song was still in tune; Defence Against the Dark Arts positions were still in demand; Halloween was still safe; Quidditch was still going well; Gryffindor students were still of high quality.

She went to the Ministry of Magic for two years after graduation, the Headmaster became Dumbledore, and was invited back to teach.

That unusual opening dinner almost scared young Miss McGonagall into resigning.

In the decades since then, Hogwarts is no longer the Hogwarts it once was.

In the past few years... To be precise, since Harry entered school, high-frequency crises have occurred more and more.

As for William, and that year's Death Eater Tywin... They were selectively ignored by Professor McGonagall.

Who wouldn't like such an excellent student.

Are the things that happened at school these years related to him? Certainly not!

Fortunately, Professor Dumbledore tonight was quite self-aware. He didn't show his little surprise, but chatted and laughed with Karkaroff and Maxim.

Professor McGonagall finally breathed a sigh of relief. She, the vice-principal, said she was the vice-principal, but she was doing the work of the principal.

And manage a horde of unremarkable professors and stubborn students.

The team is not easy to lead, Mag sighed.

I hope that in this Triwizard Tournament, Professor Dumbledore will not give her some surprises.

She can't take surprises!

Professor McGonagall sighed, and Snape's eyes darkened, staring at Karkaroff from time to time.

Just now Dumbledore asked him to take Karkaroff to change his clothes, just to get some information from the mouth of this former 'colleague'.

Unfortunately, the other party called Krum as a shield and pulled him to change his clothes.

The two stayed together all the time, and Snape couldn't find a chance for a private conversation at all.

Karkaroff secretly glanced at Mad-Eye.

This old thing...isn't crazy yet?

That year, he was the one who arrested him.

Karkaroff glanced at Crouch again.

This dog thing... isn't dead yet?

That year, it was Crouch who interrogated him personally and nearly got him into Azkaban.

He glanced at Snape again.

This dead traitor...

The professors all had their own thoughts and were not enjoying themselves, but the students were very happy.

Because tonight's dinner is extra rich, even richer than Christmas.

The plates in front of everyone were full of food. Those house-elves did their best, and even seven or eight foreign cuisines appeared.

Ravenclaw students are doing academic research in front of a large plate of snails.

This plate of salted cod snails Belleze Swiss Tower with Garlic Butter Sauce… doesn’t look like food, more like Hagrid’s fried tail snails.

A group of British people are judging French cuisine, but they still find it unpalatable... Hey, something seems to be wrong.

"The taste is okay." William wiped his mouth and smiled at Furong: "But it's not as authentic as you did last time."

"No, what I made is not as delicious as this." Furong covered her mouth and smiled: "But if you like it, I can make it again."

The last time I ate snails was last year in Biarritz Beach, France.

A group of them went to catch a lot of snails, and Furong made a French-style feast.

Furong's cooking skills are much better than Hermione's, not at the same level at all.

For this reason, Hermione, who refused to admit defeat, went back and practiced hard for another summer vacation.

But she can't even cook British food, let alone French food.

Anne hurriedly told Hermione that it was a matter of cuisine. British food was hard to eat, and it had nothing to do with her cooking skills.

Only then did Hermione stop persecuting William and Anne's taste buds.

Halfway through the meal, Hibiscus felt a little hot and took off the heavy scarf on her head.

Only then did everyone see her face clearly.

A long, waterfall-like silver hair hangs down to his waist. Big blue eyes and a picturesque face.

Hibiscus immediately caused agitation.

The male students at the Ravenclaw table stopped their movements and looked at her dumbfounded.

Fleur was accustomed to this sort of thing, and continued to talk to William about French cuisine as if nothing else.

William speaks French, Fleur speaks English... The two of them are a little weird.

Furong quickly got full, stood up and blinked:

"I went to see Hermione, I just didn't see her."

At the Gryffindor table,

Ron was staring eagerly into the distance.

Durmstrang's student sat at Slytherin's table, and saw him with all kinds of envy and hatred.

"Harry, we should have made it earlier so Krum could sit next to us," he complained.

Seeing Malfoy leaning over to talk to Krum, Ron said sharply again:

"Malfoy must be flattering him. I'll bet Krum sees what he's up to at a glance.

I bet Krum has people courting and flattering him wherever he goes... Where do they sleep, you say? "

Ron looked at Krum eagerly and said:

"We can give him a bed in our dorm, Harry...I'd give him my bed, I'm sleeping on a camp cot..."

Harry glanced at Ron wordlessly. As for?

Like Hermione said: just a Quidditch player.

Harry was definitely reluctant to give up the bed to Krum... but he was willing to give up the bed to Qiu.

He doesn't have to sleep, just watch it all night...hehehe.

Ron, who was still chattering, suddenly stopped talking. He opened his mouth and widened his eyes.

A witch came towards him.

It was the most beautiful girl Ron had ever seen, with a slender figure, long silver hair, and a smile on the corner of her mouth.

That kind of smile, sweet and elegant, as if the spring breeze blew through Diagon Alley and the autumn rain soaked Gringotts.

At this moment, Ron felt in love.

It must be fate.

"Hi!" The girl smiled softly, "Long time no see."

Like an old friend, Ron said in a voice that only he could hear, "Yeah, long time no see."

That's right, he felt that the two had met in the last life.

"My name is Ronald..."

But the girl didn't greet him, let alone see him, and walked directly towards Hermione.

"Furong, long time no see." Hermione stood up and took Furong's hand.

The two of them were like best friends, jumping up and down together, murmuring softly and making a silver bell-like laughter.

"Come on, let's go over there, I have a lot to tell you."

Fleur took Hermione and walked towards the Ravenclaw table.

Seeing that the two were about to leave, Ron suddenly stood up.

"Ron, what's the matter with you?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

Ron's face flushed instantly. He stared at Furong blankly, opened his mouth to answer, but only made some strange little sounds, as if his throat was stuck.

That expression...it was as if she had never seen a girl before.

Hermione coughed resentfully at Ron's rudeness.

He finally stammered: "Is this your friend? Hermione..."

"Of course." Hermione said impatiently, "I mentioned it before... Hibiscus."

"Slime..." Ron remembered the name.

Furong showed a disgusted expression, and said coldly in a very standard London accent: "My name is Furong, not sticky phlegm!"

She took Hermione's hand and bypassed Ron directly.

"How did I just act, bro!" Ron said to Harry hoarsely as he sat down.

"Very poor..." Harry whispered.

Ron glared at others like an idiot, and using the word "Xun" to describe it was all euphemism.

It was so embarrassing that he wanted to stand up and tell everyone: he didn't know Ron.

Ron ignored Harry and continued to look at Fleur's back.

Seeing the girl sitting next to William, who seemed to be very close to him, Ron's face was pale, as if he had lost his soul.

Just then, there was a heavy coughing sound behind him.

Ron turned his head away.

Finding a little silver-haired girl standing beside Annie, she stretched out two fingers, pointed at Ron's eyes, and said coldly, "Look again, I'll poke you blind!"

It's not just Gabriel who wants to poke someone's eyes, but also Professor Flitwick.

Hagrid, who was late, just sat down in the chair~lightnovelpub.net~ when he noticed Maxim's widening.

He widened his eyes and breathed fast. Back then, when Norbert was born, he was not so excited.

Hagrid raised his big glass, ready to take a sip.

But the oat wine didn't end up in his mouth, but all poured onto Professor Flitwick's head.

With a smirk, he picked up his fork again, ready to cut some beef.

The fork stuck directly into Professor Flitwick's hand.

Professor Flitwick, who has always been a good man, couldn't help but said angrily:

"Hagrid, you idiot!"

...

...

(Ask for recommendation votes, everyone.

Sorry for the late update, today I was teaching an experiment to a group of undergraduates. )