Harry liked all his new teachers a

Harry liked all his new teachers a great deal. Professor McGonagall was very clever at speaking Cat, and she and Harry sometimes had animated Cat conversations in the hallways, which always made Draco Malfoy shudder a little if he happened to walk by. But Harry's favorite adult friend of all, after the desperately shy Professor Quirrell, was Hagrid. Hagrid lived in a little hut on the school grounds with his friend Fang, and he knew more about animals than anyone Harry had ever met. Hagrid couldn't talk to the animals in their own languages very well, but he managed to make himself widely understood with friendly grunts and a lot of patience.

Harry loved roaming through the forest behind Hagrid's hut and talking to all the friendly creatures he met there. In the beginning, Hagrid was a little hesitant about Harry walking around in the forest at night.

"Yeh shouldn't be in the forest alone at night, Harry," he exclaimed one night when he came upon Harry and the Sorting Hat fishing in a small forest stream in the moonlight.

"Mr. Potter is not alone!" said the Sorting Hat a little huffily. "Surely, you can see that he is accompanied by qualified school staff?"

Hagrid looked doubtfully at their little campfire, where a couple of trouts were already roasting over the flames. The Sorting Hat had brought along an old sword that worked perfectly as a roasting spit.

"Well..." Hagrid was still a little hesitant, but he ate one of the trouts Harry offered him with a good appetite. "I think it's still against the school rules fer students to be in the forest at night, Harry."

But when Harry explained to him what Leaf had said about the difference between Rules and Laws, Hagrid had to admit that this made a lot of sense. He immediately agreed that the strange idea that students shouldn't walk in the lovely dark forest at night was probably more of a small Rule than an actual important Law.

But one night, Harry came upon something terribly strange in the Forbidden Forest.

He had had a very pleasant night talking to an old oak tree who had seen a lot and had some great stories to tell. Later, there had been a slight misunderstanding with an old friend of Hagrid's, Aragog, who for some reason had mistaken Harry for food, but they were all able to laugh about it afterwards. Aragog's laugh was a little shaky, since Harry had had to use some very strong magic to get his point across, but Hagrid roared with laughter when he heard about the silly mistake Aragog had made.

But as Harry was walking back home through the darkened forest, he came upon a strange scene in a moonlit clearing: A lovely white unicorn was lying on the ground, and a dark shape was crouched over it at an odd angle.

Harry immediately recognized professor Quirrell. He must be fond of nightly walks, just like Harry! Harry ran up to the dark-clad man.

"Hello, Professor!"

Professor Quirrell spun around, his face a little odd and white in the moonlight. He had loosened his turban, and Harry caught a glimpse of another face at the back of the young professor's head. His shard! His shard had a face of his own? Unfortunately, Harry only saw that other face for a fleeting moment before Professor Quirrell gave a strangled scream and ran off into the forest.

Harry sighed. If only he could have talked the professor into staying! They could have walked home together in the moonlight and perhaps become a little more friendly. Harry longed to take a closer look at that pale, haunting face he had glimpsed so briefly at the back of Quirrell's head. How wonderful, that Professor Quirrell's shard had his own face! Harry couldn't help wondering what his own Shard's face would look like. Perhaps he would look a little like the other shard? If only Shard could have a body of his own one day! Harry loved sharing his mind with him, of course, but he knew that Shard would probably enjoy himself more if he could walk around on his own sometimes. Perhaps he would even like to go exploring in the forest with Harry.

Harry glanced down at the unicorn. Uh oh. He didn't look good at all. He must have met with a horrible accident of some kind, for the poor creature was lying terribly still in a glittering pool of his own silver blood. Harry hurriedly scooped up the silvery liquid and used his magic to pour it back inside the unicorn. There! That was better! He added a little more magic for good measure, but the unicorn still didn't stir.

Harry's eyes welled with tears as he gazed down at the luminous snow-white creature. Dead. Yes, he was dead, beyond the reach of all magic. What sort of accident had the poor unicorn met with? There was something so terribly sad and strange about this. He looked as if he had been attacked by some savage beast. And why had Professor Quirrell crouched over him in that strange way? Something about the memory of his dark shape made Harry feel rather ill at ease, although he couldn't really explain to himself why that was. And why had there been a slight gleam of silver on the thin lips that Harry had seen at the back of Quirrell's head?

...

Later that night, Harry found his way to the teachers' quarters at Hogwarts. He felt a little guilty about this, since Professor Dumbledore had told him very specifically to be careful about walking through locked doors. But, Harry told himself, surely even Professor Dumbledore would make an exception if you just wanted to visit a friend.

After some searching, Harry found Quirrell's room. The young professor was sleeping fitfully on his narrow bed, tossing and turning and moaning slightly in his sleep. There was such a nervous expression on his face that Harry couldn't help giving him a little spark of magic to make him sleep better.

There! A slight smile hovered around Quirrell's mouth now, and his breathing became calm and even. After a moment's hesitation, Harry unwrapped the purple turban very, very carefully, making sure he didn't accidentally touch Quirrell's head and wake him up. Just a quick peek...

Professor Quirrell's Shard was sleeping as well. Harry gazed at the pale face for a long moment. It looked strangely unfinished for a face - the nose in particular could have used a little more work - but Harry thought it looked lovely nonetheless. It had a sort of stern, cold beauty to it, like stone or ice. Harry felt a sudden urge to kiss the smooth white forehead, very softly, so as not to wake the sleeping stranger. But that would probably be a little rude when they hadn't even been introduced?

The stranger stirred slightly, as if he could feel himself being watched, and Harry whispered: "Just go back to sleep. I will help you find that red stone very, very soon."

...

The autumn days began to grow chillier, and the trees began to lose their leaves. With the arrival of autumn came all sorts of lovely things like hot apple cider, warm fires, and a splendid autumn festival called Halloween.

For some reason, hollowed out vegetables filled with flickering candles began to hover over the tables in the great hall, and they looked very cheerful. Harry made a mental note to try something like this at home in the forest next time they had a birthday celebration. They didn't usually have any of these large pumpkins there, of course, but you could probably create much the same effect with hollowed out apples or - if you carved very, very carefully and used very small candles - plums. Or maybe potatoes? Yes, they would probably be easier to carve than juicy plums.

Harry and Ron were sitting at the Slytherin table, enjoying the abundant Halloween feast with their friends, when the door to the Great Hall was suddenly flung open with a thud. Professor Quirrell staggered in, his face even paler than usual.

"Troll... in the Dungeon..." he gasped and sank to the floor.

A troll? Harry lit up. He hadn't seen trolls in ages. No wonder the young professor had been in a rush to share such exciting news! "Come on, Ron!" He leapt up from the table. "Let's go meet him!"

"Me-Meet who?" For some reason, Ron looked a little pale.

"The troll, of course! Come on, don't be shy!" Harry dashed out of the Hall, followed by Ron with his wand clutched tightly in his hand.

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

Harry thích tất cả các giáo viên mới của mình một hợp đồng lớn. Giáo sư McGonagall là rất thông minh tại nói con mèo, và cô và Harry đôi khi có động Cat cuộc hội thoại trong các hành lang, mà luôn luôn làm Draco Malfoy rùng mình một chút nếu ông đã xảy ra để đi. Nhưng người bạn của Harry dành cho người lớn yêu thích của tất cả, sau khi giáo sư Quirrell tuyệt vọng nhút nhát, Hagrid. Hagrid đã sống trong một túp lều nhỏ trong khu vườn trường học với người bạn của ông Fang, và ông biết thêm về động vật hơn bất cứ ai Harry đã từng gặp. Hagrid không thể nói chuyện với các loài động vật trong ngôn ngữ riêng của họ rất tốt, nhưng ông quản lý để làm cho mình được hiểu rộng rãi với grunts thân thiện và rất nhiều kiên nhẫn.Harry yêu chuyển vùng qua rừng phía sau của Hagrid túp lều và nói chuyện với tất cả các sinh vật thân thiện ông gặp có. Ban đầu, Hagrid là một chút do dự về Harry đi bộ xung quanh trong rừng vào ban đêm."Yeh không nên trong rừng một mình vào ban đêm, Harry," ông kêu lên một đêm khi ông đến khi Harry và câu cá nón phân loại trong một dòng suối nhỏ rừng trong ánh trăng."Ông Potter không phải một mình!" ông nón phân loại một chút huffily. "Chắc chắn, bạn có thể thấy rằng ông được đi kèm bởi đội ngũ nhân viên có trình độ học?"Hagrid đã xem xét là của lửa trại nhỏ, nơi một vài trouts đã rang trong ngọn lửa. Nón phân loại đã mang theo một thanh kiếm cũ mà làm việc hoàn hảo như là một mũi đất rang."Well..." Hagrid was still a little hesitant, but he ate one of the trouts Harry offered him with a good appetite. "I think it's still against the school rules fer students to be in the forest at night, Harry."But when Harry explained to him what Leaf had said about the difference between Rules and Laws, Hagrid had to admit that this made a lot of sense. He immediately agreed that the strange idea that students shouldn't walk in the lovely dark forest at night was probably more of a small Rule than an actual important Law.But one night, Harry came upon something terribly strange in the Forbidden Forest.He had had a very pleasant night talking to an old oak tree who had seen a lot and had some great stories to tell. Later, there had been a slight misunderstanding with an old friend of Hagrid's, Aragog, who for some reason had mistaken Harry for food, but they were all able to laugh about it afterwards. Aragog's laugh was a little shaky, since Harry had had to use some very strong magic to get his point across, but Hagrid roared with laughter when he heard about the silly mistake Aragog had made.But as Harry was walking back home through the darkened forest, he came upon a strange scene in a moonlit clearing: A lovely white unicorn was lying on the ground, and a dark shape was crouched over it at an odd angle.Harry immediately recognized professor Quirrell. He must be fond of nightly walks, just like Harry! Harry ran up to the dark-clad man."Hello, Professor!"Professor Quirrell spun around, his face a little odd and white in the moonlight. He had loosened his turban, and Harry caught a glimpse of another face at the back of the young professor's head. His shard! His shard had a face of his own? Unfortunately, Harry only saw that other face for a fleeting moment before Professor Quirrell gave a strangled scream and ran off into the forest.Harry sighed. If only he could have talked the professor into staying! They could have walked home together in the moonlight and perhaps become a little more friendly. Harry longed to take a closer look at that pale, haunting face he had glimpsed so briefly at the back of Quirrell's head. How wonderful, that Professor Quirrell's shard had his own face! Harry couldn't help wondering what his own Shard's face would look like. Perhaps he would look a little like the other shard? If only Shard could have a body of his own one day! Harry loved sharing his mind with him, of course, but he knew that Shard would probably enjoy himself more if he could walk around on his own sometimes. Perhaps he would even like to go exploring in the forest with Harry.Harry glanced down at the unicorn. Uh oh. He didn't look good at all. He must have met with a horrible accident of some kind, for the poor creature was lying terribly still in a glittering pool of his own silver blood. Harry hurriedly scooped up the silvery liquid and used his magic to pour it back inside the unicorn. There! That was better! He added a little more magic for good measure, but the unicorn still didn't stir.Harry's eyes welled with tears as he gazed down at the luminous snow-white creature. Dead. Yes, he was dead, beyond the reach of all magic. What sort of accident had the poor unicorn met with? There was something so terribly sad and strange about this. He looked as if he had been attacked by some savage beast. And why had Professor Quirrell crouched over him in that strange way? Something about the memory of his dark shape made Harry feel rather ill at ease, although he couldn't really explain to himself why that was. And why had there been a slight gleam of silver on the thin lips that Harry had seen at the back of Quirrell's head?...Later that night, Harry found his way to the teachers' quarters at Hogwarts. He felt a little guilty about this, since Professor Dumbledore had told him very specifically to be careful about walking through locked doors. But, Harry told himself, surely even Professor Dumbledore would make an exception if you just wanted to visit a friend.After some searching, Harry found Quirrell's room. The young professor was sleeping fitfully on his narrow bed, tossing and turning and moaning slightly in his sleep. There was such a nervous expression on his face that Harry couldn't help giving him a little spark of magic to make him sleep better.There! A slight smile hovered around Quirrell's mouth now, and his breathing became calm and even. After a moment's hesitation, Harry unwrapped the purple turban very, very carefully, making sure he didn't accidentally touch Quirrell's head and wake him up. Just a quick peek...
Professor Quirrell's Shard was sleeping as well. Harry gazed at the pale face for a long moment. It looked strangely unfinished for a face - the nose in particular could have used a little more work - but Harry thought it looked lovely nonetheless. It had a sort of stern, cold beauty to it, like stone or ice. Harry felt a sudden urge to kiss the smooth white forehead, very softly, so as not to wake the sleeping stranger. But that would probably be a little rude when they hadn't even been introduced?

The stranger stirred slightly, as if he could feel himself being watched, and Harry whispered: "Just go back to sleep. I will help you find that red stone very, very soon."

...

The autumn days began to grow chillier, and the trees began to lose their leaves. With the arrival of autumn came all sorts of lovely things like hot apple cider, warm fires, and a splendid autumn festival called Halloween.

For some reason, hollowed out vegetables filled with flickering candles began to hover over the tables in the great hall, and they looked very cheerful. Harry made a mental note to try something like this at home in the forest next time they had a birthday celebration. They didn't usually have any of these large pumpkins there, of course, but you could probably create much the same effect with hollowed out apples or - if you carved very, very carefully and used very small candles - plums. Or maybe potatoes? Yes, they would probably be easier to carve than juicy plums.

Harry and Ron were sitting at the Slytherin table, enjoying the abundant Halloween feast with their friends, when the door to the Great Hall was suddenly flung open with a thud. Professor Quirrell staggered in, his face even paler than usual.

"Troll... in the Dungeon..." he gasped and sank to the floor.

A troll? Harry lit up. He hadn't seen trolls in ages. No wonder the young professor had been in a rush to share such exciting news! "Come on, Ron!" He leapt up from the table. "Let's go meet him!"

"Me-Meet who?" For some reason, Ron looked a little pale.

"The troll, of course! Come on, don't be shy!" Harry dashed out of the Hall, followed by Ron with his wand clutched tightly in his hand.