Malfoy raised his head arrogantly and stretched out his hand towards Harry: "I'm here to be your friend, but it seems that you have made a friend in advance?"

"Potter, if I were you, I would be very careful. If you hang out with an unorthodox person like Weasley, sooner or later you will become an unorthodox person."

Crabbe and Goyle also half-rolled and fled from the carriage.

"Then let's just skip that nonsense." He stood up and got into a fighting stance, "Whether you all come together or come one by one, I can do it."

Harry looked over doubtfully and said confidently, "As long as I can beat him, it'll be fine, right?"

"Isn't it?" Harry asked.

But why...it sounds so uncomfortable.

"If you get used to it, just keep using it."

Absolutely.

Once again, Ron's brain failed to respond.

More people came in, including three boys. The leader was a little boy with platinum blond hair and a pale face. The brown-haired girl's arrogance was on her lips, and his arrogance was on her face.

The girl struggled for a while: "Oh, no, sorry, I'm not an orphan."

Harry didn't reach out and looked directly at Malfoy.

The girl blushed: "I'm sorry, I was too impatient, but Neville's pet is missing."

"But, Potter, even if they are both from wizarding families, there are still differences."

"Goyle, Crabbe, teach him a lesson!" Malfoy glanced at the two followers beside him and sneered, "Let this ungrateful scar head calm down."

"We are already aliens, aren't we?" Harry smiled, shook his head, and said.

A pair of cat eyes looked at each other, giving him a chill that penetrated deep into his heart.

He knew it had to be like this.

"Every sentence." Harry was a little confused, "What does mudblood mean?"

"Muggles, too?" Ron couldn't quite understand this sentence.

"Are you coming again?" Harry looked expressionless and waved his hand, shaking away the blood and snot stained on it.

Ron asked back: "That's not what the cup means."

An eleven-year-old child, no matter how big he is, has little ability to withstand blows.

Harry closed the door.

"But the result should be a collapse."

Harry clicked and bit off the licorice stick: "But aren't Muggles the same?"

Ron looked at the person sitting opposite him with complicated eyes: "Harry, I don't mean anything else, but has anyone ever said that there might be something wrong with the way you speak?"

Malfoy retracted his hand with a cold expression, which made his already pale face look a little sicker: "Alien? It seems that you have been in the mudblood world for a long time!"

Malfoy took a step back: "What do you want to do, fight?"

"Have you decided which branch to go to?"

He adjusted his mood quickly. After all, he claimed that he must become a Gryffindor man. Almost in an instant, he forgot about the bad things.

Harry thought for a while: "Maybe it will be Gryffindor."

The heads of the four houses have holy relics. Gryffindor's relic is a sword forged by goblins - it may be an amazing magic item. For a witcher, nothing can compare to it.

The sword is more attractive.

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Chapter completed!