days at Hogwarts

Chapter 611 Hogwarts 1996
The students in the seats were chattering non-stop. Loren muttered to himself to confuse Rolf while pushing him back to the Hufflepuff table. When his ears quieted down, he sighed and looked towards the professors in the guest of honor seats.

The burly Hagrid sat on the left side of the guest of honor seat, smiling and talking to Professor McGonagall, who was only as tall as his elbow. He seemed to feel the gazes from the audience, raised his head, looked over, and waved at him with a smile.

Professor Trelawney, the teacher of Divination, sat on the other side. Ever since Umbridge suffered misfortune for not believing her predictions, the students no longer dared to look down on her as they did before. Occasionally, when they met and greeted each other in the castle, there was more respect in their words. Trelawney was very satisfied with this.

She was still dressed in the same strange way as before, wearing all kinds of sparkling chains and beads, wrapped in a fluffy shawl, and her eyes were magnified by lenses to make them more prominent...

Dumbledore sat in the center of the guest of honor seat, his silver hair and beard tangled together, hanging down in front of his chest, several feet long, half-moon glasses perched on his crooked nose, with a gentle smile, and he slightly tilted his head to speak in a low voice to Grindelwald beside him.

The old headmaster never liked to talk for a long time before dinner, so when the bell rang on the dot, the porcelain plates and wine glasses in front of them were immediately filled with food and drinks. The hot aroma whetted the appetites of the little wizards, and they began to feast on the food without caring about their image.

"When will the Ministry of Magic trial end?" Slughorn cut the steak with a silver knife, put the meat into his mouth, and complained incoherently, "I wanted to invite a few outstanding students to have lunch in the train carriage, but it is impossible to reopen the Slug Club under such circumstances."

"Why?" Professor Sprout asked doubtfully. She couldn't understand how students who hadn't graduated yet were involved in the situation.

"Oh!" Slughorn explained, "Several parents of Slytherin students are in prison and have no mood to attend my dinner party. I am also worried that they will make requests at the dinner table. Although I do have some influence, cases involving dark wizards... you know, the situation is very complicated."

Professor McGonagall frowned and pursed her lips. "It shouldn't be long before there will be a result. Some stubborn people will be imprisoned in new prisons, and others will have a chance to be released on bail."

"As long as we pay a sufficient deposit, right?" Slughorn raised his eyebrows. "I've received some news that many pure-blood families are raising money to build connections, and have even approached the newly appointed Minister Scrimgeour. Unfortunately, he is a hardliner..."

"In my opinion, Death Eaters should have their wands broken and be imprisoned for life!" said Professor Burbage.

"..."

Laughter and the clinking of knives and forks echoed around the long table of the college. The fat and carbohydrates stirred up the purest happiness, eliminating the fatigue brought by the long journey.

When only a few pieces of pumpkin pie were left on the shallow white porcelain plate, a crisp sound suddenly came from the guest of honor seat.

"Ding Ding!!"

Dumbledore tapped the goblet with a spoon, suppressing the noise in the hall. His old and powerful voice began to echo in the hall: "Welcome! Welcome back to Hogwarts!"

The little wizards looked up at the professor sitting in the guest of honor seat, holding the dessert in their hands, and the sweetness spread on their tongues.

"If there's one thing I always look forward to during the Christmas holidays, it's your bright and smiling faces!"

Dumbledore's eyes were gentle as he continued, "No one expected so many things to happen during the short Christmas holiday. I believe you have all read the news in the newspapers. Here, I also have a few things to tell you... The Department of Mysteries and Knockturn Alley were attacked by Death Eaters one after another. Many Aurors and Ministry of Magic staff are still lying in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The mandrakes cultivated by Professor Sprout have all been bought out again. The Animagus teaching class may have to be postponed again."

All the young wizards who had not yet completed the Animagus ritual began to sigh. They did not expect that the Death Eaters would influence them from such a tricky angle.

"Damn Death Eaters!"

"How despicable!"

George and Fred took the lead in denouncing the dark wizards, and many young wizards echoed them.

Only Lee Jordan from Gryffindor scratched his head. How did he remember that these two guys had stockpiled a batch of mandrakes?

Dumbledore stood quietly at the guest of honor seat, and waited until they gradually quieted down before continuing: "You may have seen reports about Harry Potter in the newspapers. I also recognize his heroic performance in the battle against the Death Eaters. But I'm sorry... extracurricular activities are not counted in the school's grades."

The young wizards in the audience and the professors on the stage all showed expressions that did not know whether to laugh or cry.

The Slytherin students breathed a sigh of relief, and some observant students remained silent, their eyes scanning the guest of honor seats.

Dumbledore coughed twice to clear his throat, and drew everyone's attention again: "I need to emphasize that the current situation is only temporarily under control. Although the Death Eaters have been basically arrested, Voldemort is still at large..."

There was a tense and anxious silence in the auditorium.

"Look, Professor Slughorn..." the little witch said in a low voice.

Loren looked up and saw Slughorn had a heavy expression and dark eyes.

"Don't panic, stay rational. The castle's magical defenses have been strengthened during the Christmas season. We have received new and more effective protection. I can assure you that Hogwarts can ensure the safety of every teacher and student. But I still hope that everyone will remain cautious and not take it lightly. Remind your family and friends to always pay attention to your own safety. Therefore, I require you to strictly abide by every safety regulation set by the professor. Do not leave the castle after lights out... Always pay attention to your surroundings and report any abnormalities to the professor immediately... Try to stay away from remote alleys in Hogsmeade..."

Dumbledore explained the precautions one by one, his deep blue eyes sweeping over all the students. His gentle yet steady gaze made people feel at ease.

"Is Professor Snape also a Death Eater?" a seventh-year Slytherin student asked loudly. His voice echoed in the hall. Many students then noticed that there was no professor in the main guest seat. The originally relaxed atmosphere suddenly became heavy.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I regret to tell you that our Potions teacher, Professor Snape, has temporarily resigned. However, he is not in the temporary prison set up by the Ministry of Magic, nor in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Wounded Soldiers. He has temporarily left us in pursuit of more advanced knowledge of potions. However, I am pleased to announce that the person who will fill his vacancy is one of my former colleagues. He has agreed to resume the position of Potions Professor."

"Let us welcome, Professor Horace Slughorn!"

Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the light, his waistcoat-covered belly swaying. "Good evening, boys. I'm glad to be back here again..."

There was welcome applause from the audience.

It must be admitted that Slughorn's image of a fat old man is very approachable.

Loren looked at the old headmaster with emotion. Dumbledore was really good at talking. He protected Professor Snape's image with just a few words. But when he thought about it carefully, he really didn't lie.

"As for our second new teacher..." Dumbledore waited for the applause in the Great Hall to die down before continuing, "Professor Beowulf Bagshot! He has graciously agreed to fill the vacancy in Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

Grindelwald stood up with a gentle smile and nodded to the young wizards.

"Beowulf is a hero in European epics..." Hermione whispered in Loren's ear, her soft breath tickling his ear, "He killed a demon named Grendel."

Grindelwald, Grendel...

Influenced by Flamel, Loren also had some understanding of these stories. Grendel was described as a demon from hell, powerful and tyrannical, who hated beauty, and wherever he went, darkness fell.

I don't know if there is any symbolic meaning behind Grindelwald's choice of this name. "Well, your beds are waiting..." Dumbledore said cheerfully, "I know what you need most now is to have a good rest and prepare for tomorrow's class, so let's say goodnight..."

As usual, benches were pushed back with a harsh friction sound, and hundreds of students began to leave the auditorium and walk towards the dormitories under the leadership of their prefects.

……

"Tomorrow is Monday and you have a full class schedule. Don't stay up late. Go back and go to bed early."

"You too."

"Good night."

"Good night."

Back in the common room, Loren and Hermione stood at the bottom of the wooden stairs, hugged each other, rubbed each other's noses after saying goodnight, and went up the stairs to their dormitories. Intimacy is not limited to kissing, these natural and casual actions are more comfortable and free.

Someone had already returned, the door was half-open, and he pushed it open and entered.

The temperature in the room was only slightly lower than that in the common room. It was very warm. The candlesticks in the corners and the chandelier in the middle of the room were already lit. I took off my magic robe and hung it on the oak hanger behind the door. I took off my boots by stepping on my heels, put on my slippers and walked into the room.

Neville, wearing a brand new set of plush pajamas, stood beside the bed packing his suitcase. He held the Rafe, which was bigger than the Quaffle, in his hands, bent down, and gently put it into the box under the bed.

Loren lay on his bed, buried his head in the quilt and took a deep breath. The quilt had a slightly burnt smell after being dried. It was said to be the dried corpses of mites. Anyway, it smelled good: "Neville, haven't they come back yet?"

"what?"

Neville's hand trembled, and then he heard Rafe slam into the box. The negligent owner closed the box and got up hurriedly, "You mean Harry and the others? They were left in the common room. Lee Jordan and the others are asking for information."

"These people are really stupid. They obviously have a classmate from an Auror family, but they turned to them for information."

"No!" Neville was a little flustered and quickly waved his hand to refuse. "Don't ask them to come to me. Mom and Dad specifically told me not to tell them any news before the trial is over."

"Hey, you actually know some inside information?"

"..." Neville shut his mouth and stopped talking.

Loren was now interested: "Hey, there are only two of us here, let's share any news."

"I'm going to wash up." Neville said sullenly.

Loren immediately laughed: "Hey, you're going to change the subject now?"

"..."

"Really? No one can tell?"

"Ah."

"Neither can I?"

"..." Neville's eyebrows were tightly knitted together, and his expression was very embarrassed.

"hey-hey."

Loren continued to tease him for a few more times, and after satisfying his evil taste, he stopped asking questions.

……

Late at night, in the Slytherin common room.

The round candlestick was tied with a chain and hung from the ceiling. The room was filled with a green color. A large number of decorations made of skulls and snake sculptures emitted a faint cold light. The fire in the fireplace had gone out, leaving only glowing red charcoal. The common room looked dark and cold.

Slytherin's prefect Draco lay on his back in a chair, turning over a peculiarly shaped copper Knut in his hand, staring quietly at the water of the Black Lake outside the transparent window. The unknown light was dispersed into an irregularly arranged circular spot by the undercurrent under the water, slowly passing by the window and slowly passing by his expressionless face.

It appears and disappears, and becomes bright and dim at times.

In a trance, Draco's mind seemed to sink to the bottom of the lake. As the lake water spread and flowed, the dead silent ice surface with thick darkness enveloped the entire world, overwhelming him and making it almost impossible to breathe.

"Would you like something to eat?" a timid female voice sounded nearby, "I have beef pie here."

Draco knew who it was without turning around. "Take care of yourself first. You are weaker than a malnourished rabbit. If you stay up all night and get cold here, your roommate may have to carry you to the school infirmary tomorrow morning."

Astoria sat down silently beside him and slowly waved her wand, raising a few blue flames. She opened the parchment paper wrapping the pie, and roasted the beef pie suspended above the flame, turning it evenly. Soon, an enticing aroma wafted into the air.

Draco couldn't help swallowing, a little embarrassed: "Did you hear what I said? You are so annoying!"

"It's ready, eat it quickly!" Astoria handed over the pie, her blue eyes reflecting the bright firelight, sparkling.

Draco opened his mouth, but could no longer say no. He took the pie silently, put it in his mouth and took a bite. The meat filling was still cold, but he felt a strong warmth in his chest.

"I saw you didn't eat much in the auditorium, so I packed two pies. What do you think? Am I smart?"

"..." Draco lowered his head and said nothing.

"I've heard from my family that your mother should be fine and will be released on bail. Your father's crime is not serious, but there are too many people who have accused him, so a large sum of money may be needed..." Astoria was weak, so her voice was soft and weak, and she spoke very slowly. She had to take a breath after finishing half a sentence, like a kitten of several months old. "I have saved up some money, I don't know how much I can help you, if it's not enough, I can ask my father to borrow some... borrow more."

The lights in the basement lounge were dim, and the remaining fire in the fireplace was warm.

(End of this chapter)