I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 217 Solanlian's Sleeping Coffee

Under Solanlian's piercing gaze, Louis stopped drinking his coffee and cast a discerning glance at it.

Hot Coffee (with toppings): Solanlian's hand-ground coffee has a superior taste, but it contains her special potion, which may cause you to fall asleep a few hours after consuming it.

That's right, this is the real Solanlian.

Seeing Louis put down his coffee cup, Catherine's heart tightened, and she quickly put it down as well.

At the same time, a ripple flashed in front of Louis, and in the next instant, Solanlian was bound by golden ropes formed from Louis's spell.

Louis walked up to Solanlian, marveling at the binding power of the spell, and used his wand to lift her chin: "I knew you'd have this trick up your sleeve, Sister Lianlian."

"Hmph." Solanlian struck a pose of unyielding demeanor, much like a French partisan captured by the German army.

"Little Moon," Louis turned around and waved.

Catherine understood, picked up the coffee on the table, walked over and handed it to Solanlian.

"I hope you can cooperate, Mom."

Solanlian snorted, closed her eyes, and refused to look at the two people in front of her, looking extremely arrogant.

Louis waved his wand and pried open Solanlian's mouth, then Catherine forced two cups of coffee down Solanlian's throat.

"You're still quite cooperative, aren't you? Hmph." Louis pinched her cheek, and then, under the influence of the coffee, she lost her senses.

"Let her rest in the house, honestly." Louis shook his head and sighed. This woman is really... tsk tsk.

……

Solanlian was angry about this for several days, and she was still upset when Louis and the others set off for Sirius's house at 12 Grimmauld Place.

When I arrived, it was very early, and only Sirius was awake. He was kicking the house-elves with his toes.

The little elf was almost completely naked except for a dirty rag around its waist. Its skin seemed to be several times more than its body actually needed, its head was bald, and its two large, bat-like ears were covered with clumps of white fur. Its eyes were bloodshot and hazy, and its fleshy nose was so big that it looked like a pig's snout.

Besides being rather unattractive, this guy's mouth is just too irritating.

"Young Master is a despicable, ungrateful scoundrel who broke his mother's heart—" Kreacher muttered as he covered his head while being beaten, making Sirius wish he could cast a spell to shut him up forever.

When Hermione arrived, the house-elf Kreacher berated everyone, including his master Sirius, using a variety of words and expressions that even Snape could hardly match.

But Hermione, the elf protector, wasn't angry. Instead, she looked at him with pity, which ignited a hornet's nest, making Kreacher's insults even more difficult to deliver.

"Alright, Sirius, stop hitting him. He's already pitiful enough," Hermione pleaded pitifully for Kreacher.

Kreacher immediately retorted, "I don't need your pathetic, stinking little mud-born self."

Hermione was speechless with her words, while Louise laughed gleefully.

The wicked must be tempered by the wicked; this is an eternal truth.

However, Kreacher treated Louis quite well. While not exactly respectful, he was certainly on his guard. Louis immediately understood that it was entirely due to the loving education his mother had given Kreacher back in the day.

When Louis confirmed this conjecture with Kreacher, he laughed even harder.

Seeing that everyone had arrived, Sirius abandoned Kreacher, glared at him fiercely, and then turned to go to Harry's room to wake him up.

Louise followed him into Harry's room and saw Harry lying stiffly on the bed.

"The sun's high in the sky, Harry," Louis greeted him with a grin.

Sirius looked at Louis, then at Harry, and said with a smile, "I've always thought that good friends should call each other by nicknames; it shows how close they are. For example, James used to call me Bigfoot, while I preferred to call him Fork..."

"What should we call him?" Louis wasn't usually good at giving people nicknames.

Sirius racked his brains for a long time but still couldn't come up with a suitable nickname for Harry.

Louis turned and called out, "Cassie, if we were to give Harry a nickname, what do you think would suit him?"

Catherine answered almost without hesitation: "Scarface."

"See? My wife's great at coming up with nicknames, isn't she?" Louis boasted to Sirius.

Sirius chuckled coldly: "She is indeed quite strong. She must have inherited it from Solarian—she gave me the nickname 'Big Black' back then. It's a pity I could never beat her, otherwise I would have definitely hung her up."

Louis held back for a long time before finally telling Sirius that the nickname was actually something his mother had given him on impulse.

Harry was still lying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if he were having a nightmare. He had just woken up from a very vivid dream and only recovered from the nightmare when Louis called him Scarhead.

Harry pressed his hands tightly against his face; beneath his fingers, the lightning bolt-shaped scar burned as if someone were pressing a white-hot wire against his skin.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Sirius asked with concern.

Harry didn't speak, but sat up, one hand covering his scar, the other reaching for his glasses on the bedside table. He put them on, and the scene before him finally became clear.

"Sirius, Louis," Harry greeted, pressing his scar, which still ached terribly.

"Does the scar hurt?" Sirius asked with concern.

Harry nodded.

Louis frowned and said, "Looks like you haven't been practicing your Occlumency properly...dreaming about Voldemort?"

Sirius looked slightly embarrassed when Louis said those words.

Actually, it was partly his fault. Harry kept saying he didn't want to practice, but he didn't force him.

"Hmm." Harry nodded, sitting by the window, trying his best to recall the scene from his dream. Everything was so realistic... There were two people he recognized, and one he didn't... But he was certain that Voldemort was among them, otherwise his head wouldn't be hurting so badly.

"Just now... when I was dreaming," Harry began to recount his bizarre dream: "It was a dimly lit room... there was a snake lying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, and a small man kneeling on the floor. He looked like Peter... no, he was Wormtail Peter. There was also a cold, shrill voice commanding Peter. It was Voldemort's voice."

As Harry said this, he clutched his collar, feeling as if a block of ice had slid into his stomach on this hot day.

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to recall Voldemort's appearance again, but he couldn't.

"All I know is that when Voldemort's chair turned around, and I saw what it was, I felt a huge wave of fear and woke up with a start. It was as if something unseen was pressing down on me, making me unable to move or make a sound. I could only stare at the ceiling with my eyes open..."

"Don't think about it if you can't remember, Harry," Sirius said with concern. "Wormtail, you must be dreaming. Wormtail, that traitor is still in Azkaban."

"Don't be too certain, Sirius." Louis pulled the latest issue of the Daily Prophet from his pocket—the very same morning paper he'd snatched while leaving Solarian's house this morning: "Take a look."

Sirius took the newspaper, and the first thing he saw was the huge headline.

Peter Pettigrew successfully escapes from prison.

For a fleeting moment, he really wanted to tear the newspaper to shreds.

"These useless trash!" he cursed viciously.

"You didn't say that when you broke out of prison yourself," Louis said sarcastically from the side.

"Can you call what I did a prison break?" Sirius Black argued, "It was leaving, it was getting away..."

"If you say that again, we'll both laugh." Louis said, exchanging a glance with Harry before bursting into laughter, filling the bedroom with a cheerful atmosphere.

"Alright, don't think about it so much. Voldemort isn't a major threat. Even if you remember him, it won't help. You can't expect the Ministry of Magic to wipe him out, can you?" Louis shrugged. "By the time the Ministry of Magic gathers the Aurors, they'll all be gone."

"You're right." Harry nodded and walked out of the bedroom.

In the short time he spent in the bedroom, Kreacher had already prepared breakfast. Of course, Hermione wasn't included; at Louis's urging, Kreacher reluctantly prepared breakfast for her.

Louis swapped his breakfast with Hermione's, and then Kreacher swiftly took away Louis's plate and gave him a new one a moment later.

"You've grown all cunning," Solanlian commented.

"I should say I know Kreacher very well." Louis shook his head at Kreacher, receiving a forced smile from him.

Kreacher's cooking was alright, slightly inferior to that of the house-elves at Hogwarts, but only by a tiny margin. Hermione ate while deeply moved, at least in her mind, her relationship with Kreacher had thawed.

"You dirty little mudblood, stay away from me." Kreacher's Snape-like behavior continued.

Harry couldn't stand it and said, "Kreacher, don't talk about my friend like that."

But Hermione didn't appreciate it. Without even looking up, she said, "Harry, this is his freedom, my God... This is the beginning of the house-elves' rebellion against wizarding rule, we should support them..."

Catherine slammed her knife and fork on the table, walked over to Hermione, and dragged her out.

This kind of personality is really not very likable—she's not even a saint; she's forcing everyone to accept her views, which is somewhat reminiscent of extreme animal rights organizations.

Catherine was equally blunt, bombarding her with a mountain of her tutors' works and saying fiercely, "Read all of these. I'll be doing a spot check in a month. If you haven't thoroughly mastered them, I doubt you'd want to experience what it's like to be hung upside down like a fuchsia!"

In other words, the liberal leftists should tone it down and read what they should be reading.

The Weasleys finally arrived close to lunchtime. Seeing Hermione engrossed in a massive book at her desk, Ron glanced at Harry and whispered, "What's wrong? Having another episode?"

"Shh, keep your voice down. She was trying to sell us her house-elf protection theories, and Miss Worley made her read something she was supposed to read..." Harry whispered. "Don't you dare go to Miss Worley's to plead for her, or you'll be in big trouble..."

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" Ron retorted.

"You don't seem like it," Harry clicked his tongue. "I think you are..."

Ron kicked Harry in the backside and laughed, "Get lost."

The Weasleys were still chatting enthusiastically with Sirius and Solarian when Ye Ziyan walked in from outside, and the atmosphere became even more lively.

The conversation revolved around the children, particularly their education. Sirius was extremely proud of Harry's achievements at school, especially his talent in Quidditch.

"So Sirius, when are you planning to have a child of your own?" Aunt Molly suddenly asked.

"Me? Ah, I'm not in a hurry," Sirius said somewhat awkwardly. He's never lacked hot girls around him, but he's never really thought about marriage and having children.

Sollian rested her chin on her hand and chuckled, "You're indeed getting on in years, Sirius. You should find a suitable girl to spend your life with."

"I think I'll pass," Sirius said, shaking his head. "Let's not talk about that. How about we tell you what we're going to do in a couple of days..."

"It seems you still can't forget Emma," Aunt Molly said with a sigh. "Sigh, you're always so infatuated, Sirius..."

Sirius Black looked embarrassed upon hearing this, while Ye Ziyan covered her mouth and smiled, then took out her wand and created a scene in front of everyone.

On screen, Sirius is flirting with a Muggle girl, then they have dinner together, and after dinner, the two go into a hotel.

"Is this your infatuation?" Ye Ziyan asked with a teasing expression.

Louis interjected, "People always have to move on. He's gone, all we can do is live well with those memories, right, Sirius?"

Sirius Black immediately chimed in, "Yes, yes, that's so true, Louis. That's exactly what I was thinking. After all, we have to look forward."

Ye Ziyan put away the spell, put the wand back in her pocket, and snorted at Louis.

She tried to step on his foot, but Louis nimbly dodged it.

"I think you have the potential to be a scumbag. I've seen through you, Louis." Ye Ziyan gave him a knowing look, as if she had seen through Louis's inner potential, just like Pique saw through Ronaldo's feint.

(End of this chapter)