Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 341 Tavern Speech
Aberforth was already quite old; he wouldn't stoop to the level of a little boy with a hoarse voice.

When so many people suddenly appeared at Pig Head Bar, his first reaction was that he was a little uncomfortable.

Since Pig Head Bar opened, this seems to be the first time so many people have come.

As a rather introverted person, he didn't really like such lively environments.

But then again, all visitors are guests, and they are Hogwarts students at that. So, Aberforth had no reason to kick them out.

Harry noticed Draco at the door, and when he looked up, Draco saw him too.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco grinned and leaned closer. “I was just talking to Crabbe and Goyle about why you chose a bar like this.”

"I suggest you watch your words," Harry said kindly, having just overheard Draco's words. "The owner of this pub is Dumbledore's brother, his own brother."

Draco cleared his throat and said with remarkable grace, "Oh, well, I think this bar does have its merits, doesn't it?"

“That’s not what you just said,” Crabbe said ruthlessly from behind, exposing Draco’s lie.

“Yes, that’s not what you said!” Gore retorted, not to be outdone.

"You two!" Draco roared, his face flushed with rage, "If you don't want to stay here, get out!"

“Oh, we didn’t hear anything just now,” the two little giants said in unison.

If Harry had watched that Muggle cartoon, he would have noticed that these two guys' voices sounded exactly like Patrick Star's.

It exudes an aura of wisdom.

“So,” Harry said with a smile, “is everyone from Slytherin here?”

"I'll go check it out." Draco quickly turned and left.

“Ron,” Harry said, turning to Ron again, “go and tell the Hufflepuff prefects and the Ravenclaw prefects to come and gather here.”

"What about Slytherin?" Ron asked with ill intent, watching Draco's departing figure.

Harry knew exactly what Ron was planning, so he smiled and said, "Alright, you can call the Slytherin prefects if you want."

Ron left happily, and a short while later, he came to the bar with six male and female prefects from the other three houses.

“It’s nice to see you all,” Harry smiled and said to them. “I hope you can now go and check if all your classmates are here.”

“Yes, Professor.” The prefects left one after another, and Draco glared at Ron fiercely before leaving.

Ron rolled his eyes and made a face at him.

Harry picked up the butterbeer, took a satisfying sip, and then sat down to wait for the prefects to return.

Soon after, the class leaders from each college returned.

“The entire Hufflepuff group is here,” Hannah Abbott said.

“The Ravenclaws are all here,” said Padma Pettier—the sister of Parvati Pettier from Gryffindor, who is the Ravenclaw prefect.

“All of Slytherin are here,” said Pansy Parkinson, the Slytherin Prefect.

“Gryffindor is the same,” Hermione then said, her gaze meeting Pansy’s in mid-air, an invisible spark flashing between them.

“Okay.” Harry stood up, clapped his hands, and said, “I’ll give you half an hour to order some drinks at the Hog’s Head. We’ll meet at the bar in half an hour, and I’ll test your Ironclad Charm skills, okay?”

“Of course,” the prefects said in unison.

“Okay.” Harry clapped his hands. “Now it’s free time. I think you can order any drinks you like—except for the really alcoholic ones.”

After the prefects left, Ron whispered, "Harry, I think we can come over during the holidays."

"Why?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you really like Aberforth's cooking?"

“Oh, that’s one thing,” Ron said with a grin. “The other thing is… I’d really like to have some Flame Whisky. I think Aberforth will definitely sell it to us, don’t you think?”

Harry clicked his tongue and shook his head, saying, "Hard to say."

"Forget about it, Ron!" Hermione said angrily from behind. "You're a prefect, how could you do such a thing?"

"Don't worry, Hermione," Ron said with a smile. "You can't possibly use Hogwarts rules to control me during the holidays, can you?"

Hermione crossed her arms and sneered, "Not only are there Hogwarts rules, but I also won't allow you to do such a thing! Ron! Forget about it!"

Ron glanced at Hermione but didn't say anything.

“I wouldn’t mind selling you some Firewhisky,” Aberforth suddenly said, “but I don’t want to break the rules of Hogwarts, so let’s wait until your seventh year, Ron.”

Ron sighed regretfully.

"We still have to wait two more years..."

“Let’s look at the bright side,” Harry said with a chuckle. “At least you won’t have to worry about Hermione keeping an eye on you during that time.”

But to be honest, Harry felt a little guilty when he said that.

Wouldn't Hermione have cared about Ron back then?

He thought sadly that Ron might never escape Hermione's control for the rest of his life!

“Harry,” Neville’s voice rang out, and he pulled up a stool and sat down.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked with a smile.

“It’s about botany,” Neville said in a low voice. “How should I use magical plants in duels? For example, if I wanted to duel with Bitterling Kale, how should I do it? When would be the best time? Should I just throw it?” “Just throwing it isn’t the best option,” Harry thought for a moment and said to Neville. “You need to use a spell to distract your opponent first, so you can surprise them with the Bitterling Kale.”

As he spoke, Harry picked up an empty cup and made a gesture as if to throw it.

“If you dare throw this cup on the ground, the bill will be in the Gryffindor common room the next day,” Aberforth’s voice rang out at just the right moment.

“Relax, Aberforth,” Harry reassured him. “How could I possibly throw a cup on the floor?”

He smiled and said to Neville again, "Think about it, if the two of us were dueling, and at the very beginning of the duel you pulled out your biting cabbage and shouted at me, 'Behold my Chinese biting cabbage!', do you think I would be unprepared at that moment? All it would take is a blazing fire, and your cabbage would be burned to ashes."

“That’s true…” Neville said thoughtfully.

“But if you two are locked in a fierce battle,” Harry said again, “you can throw out the biting cabbage while the other is distracted by your spell, and that will definitely have a surprise effect, that’s the idea.”

"So that's how it is!" Neville exclaimed in sudden realization.

“Also,” Harry continued, “or you could use some disguise spells, like in a real fight, disguising the biting cabbage as a Muggle landmine—”

"What is a landmine?" Seamus asked with interest, becoming Neville's mouthpiece.

“Landmines are inexpensive defensive weapons that are explosive weapons that are buried underground or laid on the ground.” Hermione emphasized the explosive aspect, “They are mainly used to create minefields or minefields, forming obstacles, hindering enemy movements, killing enemy personnel or destroying enemy equipment, and posing a psychological threat to the enemy.”

"Wow..." Seamus leaned back strategically, filled with awe. "There are such things? I'll have to study them carefully and try to develop landmines for the magical world..."

“That’s not right,” Neville suddenly said. “Aren’t you ‘half and half’? Why don’t you know about landmines, a weapon from the Muggle world?”

“Because I study in the magical world, you idiot.” Seamus gave Neville the look of someone looking at an idiot.

Neville smiled and sat down to continue drinking his butterbeer.

Seamus, on the other hand, continued chattering away with Hermione about the details of the landmines. It seemed he really liked this explosive contraption.

About half an hour later, the students gathered at the bar, led by their class leaders.

Seeing that his classmates were all looking at him, Harry stood up and cleared his throat.

“I know, students,” he said. “Some of you probably don’t want to come to the Hog’s Head at this time to have my Defense Against the Dark Arts test your work.”

“Of course,” he continued, “I…”

Before he could finish speaking, the door to Pig Head Bar was opened again.

This time, many students from other grades came in.

The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan led the way, each carrying a large paper bag filled with things they'd bought at Joko's Joke Shop.

Walking behind them were some upperclassmen—compared to the freshmen.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, frowning.

“Hey,” Fred said, rushing to the bar and quickly counting his companions, “excuse me, could you give us… um, twenty-five butterbeers?”

Aberforth glanced at Fred, said nothing, and turned to prepare butterbeer for them.

Fred pulled up a chair and sat down. He said to Harry, “Harry, please forgive us for coming here so suddenly, but—well, you know, everyone knows that you fifth-year students are having your Defense Against the Dark Arts test here today, so we all wanted to come and see, and also to ask you—well, are students from other years welcome for these kinds of extracurricular activities?”

Harry, who had been keeping a straight face, softened his expression after hearing Fred's words.

“Of course you’re welcome,” Harry nodded. “Defense Against the Dark Arts—it’s a wonderful science and an art, and I think we should all learn it well.”

“That’s it!” Lee Jordan punched his fist and said, “Haha, Arya Spinnett even told me you wouldn’t welcome so many people disturbing your class, looks like she lost.”

"Alright," Harry said again, "I want you all to stand in your respective house groups, behind your prefects. Do you understand what I mean?"

“Of course.” Fred took the lead and stood behind the Gryffindor line, followed by the other new students who also stood behind their respective house lines.

“That’s right,” Harry cleared his throat. “Now that so many new students are joining us, I need to explain a few things—you’ve all been to Umbridge’s classes and know what kind of stupid things she teaches you. She just reads from the textbook and never lets you do any real combat drills.”

“This is a very serious situation,” Harry said, holding up a finger. “You should know that Defense Against the Dark Arts is a course that emphasizes practice over theory. No matter how well you learn the theory, if you are caught up in a real battle and don’t even know which spell to use, it can be fatal.”

That makes sense. As a certain Russian song goes, "On paper, all you see is open land; you forget all about the hills. But on the battlefield, nine out of ten of you will be in trouble."

Most wizards are like this: they are impeccable in theory, but when it comes to actual combat, they can be taken down with just a few spells.

Everyone laughed when they heard Harry's words.

“But I think we’ll definitely need to pass the Defense Against the Dark Arts (OWL) exam, right?” Michael Corner asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, her voice slightly higher than usual because of nervousness. “I mean, learning how to effectively protect yourself, not just learning the theory, but also practicing real spells—”

She took a deep breath before she finished speaking.

"Because Voldemort is back."

The reactions were immediate. As expected, Zhang Qiu screamed and spilled butterbeer all over herself; Terry Boots involuntarily twitched; Padma Pettier shivered; and Neville let out a strange cry, which he quickly turned into a cough.

But they all stared at Harry with longing, even eagerness.

As everyone knows, in the entire British wizarding world, Voldemort only fears one person, and that is Dumbledore—but Voldemort now has one person he cannot defeat, and that is Harry, Harry Potter!

Not the victory of a one-year-old baby who won without lifting a finger, but Harry Potter who defeated Voldemort multiple times and thwarted his plots over three school years!

“I know this is very difficult for you to accept, after all, the Ministry of Magic has repeatedly spread the message that Voldemort’s return is false.” Harry glanced at his classmates and spoke again, “But I need you to understand that I, Harry Potter, have no reason to deceive you. Right now, we are extremely pressed for time.”

(End of this chapter)