Harry Potter and the Old Ones

Chapter 270: push 1

"I haven't seen such a bold little wizard like you for a long time, a long time." Cornelius Fudge said solemnly, "In front of me, the head of the Magic Law Enforcement Department, the head of the Oro Command is outside the school. Use magic?"

"You must know, Mr. Lockhart," said Barty Crouch solemnly. "You must know that I can break your wand right now."

"I'm sorry, I was wrong." Tiera bowed and apologized.

But at the same time, both hands tightly hugged a suitcase in front of his chest——

It contained the gold coins that Tiera had just collected.

Tiera just did a rough count just now. There were probably seven or eight thousand gold Galleons.

Tiera is not so short of money now.

He just can't see wasted.

At the same time, a monocle appeared behind the crowd who had been robbed of gold coins, and there was another cold suction——

The angry crowd instantly calmed down.

Dementors feed on happiness though.

But that doesn't mean they can only absorb happiness.

Just like the human mouth can eat and eat shit, the mouth of a dementor can absorb all the power of emotions, but emotions other than happiness are **** to the dementor.

Tiera is eating **** right now with the "Eye of the Dementor".

Although Tiera uses magic outside of school, it is clear that the "loving" Cornelius Fudge will not really let Barty Crouch break Tiera's wand——

First look at the buffs stacked on Tiera:

The best friend of the savior Harry Potter, the adopted son of the famous writer and adventurer Gilderoy Lockhart, the favorite student of the greatest White Devil in history, the Muggle wizard, the disabled, the pioneer who fought against Voldemort,

Tiera felt that if she could add a mulatto to herself, add a jerk, a concubine from the royal family, and a **** and transgender buff, he would be able to run for president in the United States.

So in the end, Cornelius Fudge just reprimanded Tiera heavily, without even confiscating Tiera's pile of gold coins.

On the field, as the opening performance ended, the little leprechauns and veela slowly fell to both sides of the field, sat down with their legs crossed, and were ready to watch the game.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, a warm welcome! The Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! Let me introduce you to Dimitrov!"

A figure in red on a broomstick flew into the arena from an entrance below, he flew so fast that he left only an afterimage in the air, which won him over to the Bulgarian supporters enthusiastic applause.

"Ivanova!"

A second figure in a bright red robe flew out.

"Zograf! Levsky! Vokanov! Volkov! Next - Krum!"

"It's him, it's him!" Ron shouted, following Krum with his panopticon, and Harry hurriedly aimed his own at him.

Viktor Krum was dark and strong, with healthy bronzed skin, a large hooked nose, two thick black eyebrows, and looked like a huge eagle—

It's hard to believe he's only eighteen.

"Now, welcome! Irish National Quidditch!" Bagman shouted loudly. "It's Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mallett! Moran! Quigley! And, and -Lin Qi!"

Seven blurred green figures flew towards the arena. Harry turned a small button on the side of the panoramic telescope, slowed the movement of the players, and saw that "Firebolt" was printed on their brooms. Their names were rusted with silver thread on their backs.

"And our referee today, who flew thousands of miles from Egypt, the well-respected chairman of the International Quidditch Federation - Hassan Mustafa!"

A short, lean, lean wizard strode out into the arena in a solid gold robe that matched the color of the gym.

He was completely bald on the top of his head, but the big beard, the silver whistle, protruded from under his beard.

He carried a large wooden box under one arm and his broom under the other.

Mustafa straddled his broom and kicked the box away—four **** shot into the air:

The bright red Quaffle, two black Bludgers, and the tiny, winged golden Snitch.

As Musta whistled, the Quidditch World Cup Finals finally kicked off-

The crowd erupted into cheers again.

But those cheers soon became sparse.

Tiera was overjoyed, he hadn't felt this way in a long time, it was like his first buffet, where the joy, anger and every ounce of other emotions were at his disposal.

Harry was just as happy, he had never seen such a good Quidditch match.

He pressed the panoramic telescope tightly against the glasses, so that the glasses were sinking into the bridge of his nose, and he even forgot his promise to share the telescope with Tiera.

The speed of the Quidditch players is unbelievable—

The Chaser kept passing the Quaffle to the other players, so fast that Bagman barely had time to call out their names.

Harry turned the slow **** on the right side of the panoramic telescope again, and then pressed the game analysis button at the top. He immediately saw slow motion, some purple text flashed on the lens, and at the same time, the loud noise of the audience shook. Hit his diaphragm.

"Eagle head attack formation." Harry read the words on the game analysis button at the top, and at the same time saw the three Irish Chasers speeding close to each other, Troy in the middle, Mallette and Moran a little ahead, The three of them approached the Bulgarian team together.

Then, the words "Boskov Tactics" flashed on the camera, and Troy pretended to charge up with the Quaffle, distracted Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova, and then threw the ball to Moran.

Volkov, one of the Bulgarian batsmen, slammed the flying Bludger with his bat, hitting it towards Moran; Moran shrank, avoided the Bludger, and threw it. Quaffle, Levsky, who was hovering below, caught the ball—

"Troy scored!" Bagman roared loudly, and the audience cheered and cheered, making the stadium tremble, "Time is zero, Ireland is ahead!"

"What?" Harry shouted anxiously through the panoramic binoculars, "but the Quaffle was taken by Levsky!"

"Harry, if you don't watch at a normal speed, you're going to miss the wonderful scene." Hermione shouted, and even Hermione was infected by the happy atmosphere around. When Troy scored a goal and circled the field, she jumped excitedly. Jumping up and down, waving his arms constantly.

Like a big horse monkey with a brown broom head.

"Tsk tsk tsk." Tiera looked at Hermione and sighed. Although Hermione has begun to develop now, she is still far from the beautiful Emma Watson in her previous life.

Especially now that Hermione doesn't usually like to clean up, which makes the gap between Hermione Granger and "Emma Watson" even bigger.

Therefore, Tiera couldn't understand why some adults, after crossing over, were like male dogs in estrus, and they had to deal with the infancy Hermione.

Isn't it good to make money with peace of mind? Isn't PUA Voldemort good? Isn't it delicious to do things silently and then eat melons in a high-profile way?

Tiera has prepared a whole set of plans for the Triwizard Tournament——

For example, how to further gain Harry's trust when he was boycotted by the whole school, thereby establishing himself as the leader of Dumbledore's Army in the future.

Another example is to further expand their influence by predicting the projects and results of the Triwizard Tournament.

Or, how to use the "Death of Cedric" to make a fuss as "Gidero Lockhart" to further threaten and reap benefits from the Ministry of Magic——

Tiera is already gearing up, impatiently preparing to be the mastermind behind the melon-eating melon.

...

At the same time ~lightnovelpub.net~ in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Dumbledore opened the reply letter from Barty Crouch and read it carefully.

"Alas..." Dumbledore sighed and said to Fox, "Barty Crouch does not agree to reduce the number of years."

"Ah——" Phoenix Fox called out to show that he knew.

Dumbledore opened the drawer of his desk and took out a deed-style parchment.

Dumbledore took out a pair of scissors, cut out the signature at the end of the contract book squarely, folded it, and carefully stored it in a small box on the desk——

"If our little genius doesn't want to break the rules... we have to push him, don't we?" Dumbledore said with a smile. "Before we decide what to do with him, we have to know what he's capable of."

"We've got to know what the **** he is..."