"Ouch!" Hermione slammed to the ground.

"I didn't expect it to recognize the master." She laughed at herself, "I have never been gifted with flying."

"Wait back to school, I'll teach you slowly." Tom took the Firebolt back. At this time, he also noticed that He Ma in the kitchen seemed to be interested in broomsticks.

So he stretched his neck and shouted, "Auntie, my friend gave me a broom, do you want to come and play?"

Before He Ma could answer, an excited shout came from upstairs: "Okay!"

Mr. Granger ran up to the first floor with a vigour that was not for his age, staring at the broomstick in Tom's hand.

"Is this really a broom? I mean, can it take people into the sky like the novel says?" Mr. Granger looked like a happy child.

"Of course! Do you want to try?" Tom handed the Firebolt over.

Mr. Granger, like a treasure, took the broom and gently stroked the slender handle of the Firebolt. That way, as if he was not touching the broom, but the tender skin of his wife.

Obviously, Mr. Granger can't resist the charm of broomsticks - a tool that allows people to conquer the sky like a bird!

"The name of this broom is Firebolt..." Tom explained various performance parameters of the Firebolt to Mr. Granger. The two sides chatted more and more speculatively, and soon progressed to the test drive.

Mr. Granger cautiously mounted his broom. He thought he would fly out in the next second, or slam into the table, but in the end nothing happened. Trapped between its legs, it was motionless, like an ordinary broom.

Mr. Granger: ?

"Does it need a formula? Should I shout 'drive', or something like Open Sesame?"

Hermione on the side couldn't watch it anymore, and interrupted to pour a basin of cold water on the two of them: "All modern broomsticks can block Muggles...the use of non-magical people.

Because the wizards chose the broom as a flying tool itself to take advantage of the concealment of the broom. The most commonly used flying tools must be unobtrusive and easy to hide. A broom that's easy to carry, cheap, and can be found in your home is the ideal choice.

But if any Muggle can fly around on a broom, what's the point? So broomsticks in the hands of non-magical people are just ordinary brooms. "

A paragraph of Hermione's long speech made Mr. Granger fall into silence. He felt the gap between the magic world and the non-magical world very clearly.

The last time I felt this way was when my daughter entered the 9? platform. Hermione managed to enter the wall, but he was cut off by the cold brick wall. He can't enter until someone helps him and watch his daughter go.

Mr. Granger's mood became low. He returned the broom to Tom and squeezed a smile: "It seems that the genes of Hermione's Chocobo are inherited from the self!"

After the broom returned to Tom's hand, it showed its magical side again: even if Tom let go of his hand, it did not fall to the ground, but was suspended in the air quietly, waiting for its owner to ride.

"Okay, you two hurry up and do your homework, we won't disturb you - put the broom upstairs for you?"

The Grangers left the kitchen, where only Tom Hermione and their cat Crookshanks were left.

Just now this little guy was awakened from his sleep by the owl, jumped off the table, and only came back now. It snorted and panted, and lay down on the table, forming a big yellow ball.

"Wait, there are other things in the package." When Tom packed the broom wrapping paper, Hermione saw that there was a small bag beside the broom wrapping.

Hermione removed the bag, turned to the front and glanced at the label on it, showing a surprised expression: "Cat food?"

The bag was the size of a palm, wrapped in kraft paper, the same color as the Firebolt packaging. On the front of the bag is a picture of a cat feasting, with a sentence attached: "There is a kind of hunger, because grandma thinks you are hungry, Pat cat food, to give your cat the feeling of returning to grandma's house"

This line of words really shines.

Tom, Hermione:  …

This is a bag of magic cat food, because the cat on the bag is eating, because the line of advertising is flashing, and it can change colors.

There is also a small card attached to the bag.

【Gift to the cutest kitty in the world. By: big foot board]

"This is a gift from Sirius to Crookshanks." Tom picked up the bag and weighed it, it was probably less than a pound.

Crookshanks, who was sleeping in a ball, raised his head suddenly.

The cat seems to have heard something terrible? Crookshanks wobbled his tail and stared straight at the bag in the hands of the black-haired breeder.

"Meow (hurry up and present it, I can't wait)!"

The black-haired breeder obediently opened the bag, and a tempting aroma wafted from it.

vomit! Tom tried to smell it, and a strong fishy smell hit his face. The bag was full of meatballs and looked terrible.

At this moment, Tom felt his sleeve being pulled twice, and when he looked down, he saw Crookshanks staring at him with big watery eyes.

"Do you want to eat this?"

"Meow meow!" Cat nodded.

"No problem." Tom poured out a few pellets, and Crookshanks swooped on them, swallowed them, and looked at him again.

Tom wanted to pour again~lightnovelpub.net~ but was stopped by Hermione.

"No matter how delicious the food is, you have to be in moderation," Hermione said, looking at Crookshanks' increasingly rounded body. "I don't want my Crookshanks to look like the big orange next door."

"Indeed." Tom agreed with Hermione, sealing the opening of the cat food bag. Crookshanks looked anxious, kept rubbing his head against Tom's hand, and kept meowing in his mouth, hoping that the **** shovel officer could give him some more cat food. However, Hermione stared at him, Tom chose Hermione decisively between Hermione and Crookshanks, and put away the cat food bag ruthlessly.

No way, who made you just a cat?

Crookshanks meowed angrily, jumped off the table, and walked away on the catwalk.

One day, black and brown hair must look good! Crookshanks thought angrily.

————

Today is the story of Josephina Flint, the thirteenth Minister of Magic. The minister was a member of the Flint family, one of the Twenty-Eight Purebloods. The captain of the Slytherin team, Marcus, belongs to the Flint family.