Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 363 Percy's Crisis
Time flies, and the Christmas holidays are almost over.

The adult wizards returned to their posts and began a new round of work.

The young wizards also left home and embarked on their journey to Hogwarts to continue their studies.

Whether on the train or bus back to school, or at home, the young wizards were all listless, looking as wilted as frostbitten eggplants.

Even wizards are not immune to post-holiday syndrome.

The so-called "holiday syndrome" refers to the various physiological or psychological symptoms that people experience after a long holiday.

If you feel tired and listless in the two or three days after the holiday, or have low efficiency in studying or working at school or work, or even experience unexplained nausea, dizziness, intestinal problems, anorexia nervosa, anxiety, neurasthenia, etc.

Normally it would be fine, but now there's Umbridge in the school, like a toad lurking in the shadows, popping out every now and then to lick people's lips, which is really disgusting.

On the last day of the holiday, Harry said goodbye to Cassandra and Papiyas, and together with Ron, Hermione, and the others, they prepared to board the bus back to school.

They planned to take the Knight Bus back to Hogwarts. Although the situation had been tense recently, it was not enough to threaten the young wizards, so Sirius Black did not intend to take them to school and instead let them go back on their own.

“You are all adult wizards now,” Sirius said. “I believe you can protect yourselves.”

“But Godfather,” Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m not an adult yet…”

“Oh, come on, Harry.” Sirius put one hand on the wall. “I don’t think you should be treated like an underage wizard. I still have to fight Fudge at the Ministry of Magic.”

After they had breakfast, they put on their coats and scarves and prepared to set off.

The January morning was grey and chilly.

"Be careful." Sirius waved goodbye as he stood at the entrance of number twelve Grimmauld Place.

"Goodbye, Sirius." Everyone waved to Sirius together.

The door closed, and Place Grimmauld XII shrank rapidly, with the houses on both sides extending over to crowd it, and in the blink of an eye it disappeared.

“Magic is truly amazing,” Hermione exclaimed sincerely. “Even after living in the magical world for so many years, I am still awestruck by what I have seen.”

Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the sky. Almost simultaneously, with a loud bang, a bright purple three-story bus came crashing down from the sky, nearly hitting a lamppost, but the lamppost jumped back to avoid it.

A skinny young man in a purple uniform, with protruding ears and a face full of acne, jumped off and said, "Welcome aboard—the Knight Bus!"

"Get in the car, get in the car!" Harry called out to everyone as he turned around. "Hurry up and get in the car..."

The ticket seller stared at Harry, pointed at him, and said, "Isn't this Harry Potter?"

“Hello, Sampark,” Harry greeted the ticket seller. It wasn’t his first time riding the Knight Bus.

Stan Sampark stretched out his hands, grasped Harry's hands, and shook them vigorously: "It's an honor that Harry Potter still remembers my name... Seven people, right? I'll issue you the tickets right away."

Harry smiled politely at him, then took the lead and got into the car, followed by Ron.

“I’ve always wanted to ride this,” Ron said happily. After getting on the bus, he didn’t sit down but just looked around.

“There’s nothing to see.” Hermione gave Ron a shove on the back. “If I were you, I’d sit down right away so we don’t block the way, understand?”

Ron gave an awkward smile and sat down next to Harry.

It was early morning, and the car was filled with all sorts of chairs, haphazardly arranged around the windows, some of which seemed to have overturned when the car suddenly stopped in Grimmauld Place. Several wizards were muttering as they got up.

Someone's shopping bag slid to the other end of the carriage, scattering frog eggs, cockroaches, and a mess of custard all over the floor.

At that moment, Stan Sampark walked over from the doorway and said to Harry, "From Grimmauld Place to Hogwarts... I'm counting, it should be eleven sieges per person."

“I’ll pay.” Harry took out a few Galleons and handed them to Sampark. “Keep the change. I don’t really like doing math problems.”

“Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Potter.” Sampark bowed to him in delight, “It just so happens that I don’t like doing math either.”

As he spoke, he looked at Ron, who was still kneeling on the chair, talking enthusiastically with the twins.

“If I were you, I would sit still and buckle up,” he reminded Ron.

Following the principle of "listen to advice and you'll eat your fill," Ron obediently climbed back into his seat and fastened his seatbelt.

The car started again and wobbled across Grimoire Square.

The car body twisted and turned, swaying violently from side to side.

Harry sat motionless, but Ron next to him was a different story. He swayed from side to side like a roly-poly toy. If he hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, he probably would have been thrown into the driver's seat by now.

Suddenly, two buses appeared in front of them, driving side by side—heading towards the Knight Bus.

“I think we’re going in the wrong direction,” Hermione said, slapping her forehead.

"We won't get hit, will we?" Ron asked nervously, gripping his chair tightly. His voice trembled.

As if in response, the driver, Ern Pran, stared intently at the gap with his bulging eyes, a near-fanatical smile spreading across his face without the slightest hesitation.

Instead of slowing down, he reached for some kind of lever on the side, slammed his foot on the accelerator, and at the same time, with an almost spasmodic motion, jerked the huge steering wheel sharply to the left!
Just millimeters before it plunged into the gap, the Knight Bus emitted a tooth-grinding metallic groan and creak. Then, the entire bus seemed to be squeezed and flattened rapidly, and the people inside seemed to be stretched out.

“Oh, guys,” said the head hanging next to the driver, “you should really look at your faces, they’re hilarious.”

After the compression was completed, the bus sped out of the predicament, and then with a "pop," the bus instantly returned to its original shape.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Ron said, his face pale and clutching his chest, still shaken. “I’m never sitting on it again.”

The Knight Bus hopped off the Birmingham Highway onto a quiet country road, winding its way through treacherous bends.

As the car veered left and right onto the roadside, rows of hedges jumped aside.

They drove onto a main road in a bustling city, then onto an elevated highway through towering mountains, and then onto a cold, windy street between high-rise buildings, each time accompanied by a loud bang.

“Listen, the next stop is Hogwarts,” Sampark said cheerfully, swaying as he walked over. “We have to get Mrs. Marsh off first, she’s not feeling well—then it’s your turn.” After stopping outside a small pub, the bus sped to Hogwarts, then did a beautiful drift and came to a stop by the bridge at Hogwarts Castle.

"We've arrived," Sampak said slowly. "Have a pleasant journey, everyone. Please be careful when getting off the bus—"

They walked along the still-icy road toward the castle, the biting wind stinging their faces like knives.

“Thank goodness there are no Quidditch matches in January,” Ron said with some relief. “Walking on the ground with the wind blowing in your face hurts so much, I can’t imagine how painful it would be to ride a broomstick through the air.”

Inside the auditorium, most of the students had arrived. Some were gathered in small groups, while others lay motionless on the long tables, occasionally letting out a sigh.

This is a classic symptom of holiday syndrome.

“We two will go and maintain order first,” Ron said to Harry. “Hermione and I will go together, you know—we'll have to do this job.”

“Go ahead,” Harry said with a smile, and he and Anne sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Gryffindors are the group that exhibits the most pronounced holiday syndrome; the more wildly they play during the holidays, the more miserable they are when school starts.

"I feel completely drained," Abercrombie sighed to the people around him, slumped over the long table in the auditorium.

“Hey, first-grader,” Ron said as he walked past him. “If you’re feeling down, go ask Hagrid for a rock crust. I guarantee you won’t feel down all day after taking a bite.”

“Wow, really?” Abercrombie looked up.

“I don’t recommend you try it, young man.” Hermione pulled Ron aside and shook her head at the young first-year student in denial. “We’ve all tried rock crackers. The feeling of them being so hard they could knock your teeth out can certainly invigorate you, but the price is your poor teeth.”

Abercrombie thought about it for a moment, then shook his head and decided against it.

If I can't muster any energy, so be it. I feel uncomfortable all over because I left home to go to Hogwarts, not because of any other physical reason.

Another reason was that he didn't want to take Defense Against the Dark Arts class—he believed that Defense Against the Dark Arts shouldn't be a rote learning session, but rather should involve some practical exercises.

Senior student: Hey, then you haven't taken Professor Quirrell's class.

"Any news from the holidays?" the twins asked with smiles as they sat at the long table, looking around at their classmates, especially Lee Jordan.

Jordan didn't say anything. He pulled a huge bottle out of his pocket—no one knew how he got the bottle in his pocket, but it just stood there looking clean and shiny.

People around gathered around and gasped in surprise.

“I dare say,” Fred said, gazing raptly at the bottle, “that’s the biggest spider I’ve ever seen…except, of course, the giant eight-eyed spider, I mean the non-magical creature kind.”

“We should show this to our ‘Big-Headed Boy’,” George said with a grin, glancing mischievously at Ron’s retreating figure. “Just imagine, when our ‘Big-Headed Boy’ sees this spider, won’t he be so scared that he jumps up and bumps into the chandelier hanging from the ceiling?”

“Probably not,” Fred analyzed seriously. “He’ll just be so scared he’ll stay rooted to the spot. I bet Sike it.”

A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd.

Ron's fear of spiders is no secret at Hogwarts; he has arachnophobia.

The so-called "Big Head Boy" is a nickname given to the prefect by the Weasley twins... Of course, they weren't targeting the prefect, but rather adapting it for Percy.

Especially after Percy stepped down and Ron became prefect, the title fascinated them even more.

"Everyone in our family is a class monitor!"

Mrs. Weasley was delighted to hear that Ron had become a prefect.

"Then who are we? Our neighbors?" the twins asked, pouting.

This phrase also became Ron's weapon to retaliate against his two older brothers. Whenever the twins called him "Big Head Boy," Ron would always retort that they were "the next-door neighbor."

Only brothers could do something like this.

"Hey, big-headed boy," Fred called out to Ron with a grin as he passed by.

Ron turned his head and saw the large spider Fred was handing to him.

"Merlin's Flying Spiral Spaghetti!" he roared in terror, leaping backward and drawing his wand to strike the spider.

“Relax, big-headed boy.” Fred put the spider back behind him, took a silver coin out of his pocket and handed it to George. “You win, George. He didn’t stand still.”

"Hey!" Ron roared, "You two! You actually gambled with your own brother?!"

“Oh, buddy,” George said, spreading his hands, “it’s because you’re our little brother.”

Ron glanced at George, then at Fred.

"One point deducted from Gryffindor!" he practically spat out the words through gritted teeth. "Intimidating the prefect!"

The twins laughed even harder; they didn't care about their house points at all—Gryffindor always added a few hundred points at the end of each semester, so they could deduct as many as they wanted! Harry would pay for all the points!

The new prefect is losing points, while the former Gryffindor prefect is facing the biggest challenge of his career.

To be fair, the pink toad—that is, Senior Investigator Ms. Umbridge—didn't like Percy…no, she didn't like any of the Weasleys at all.

She disliked none of the troublemakers at school, the freckled boy, or the red-haired girl.

She didn't particularly like Arthur, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, or Percy, who wore glasses.

Percy is now Fudge's secretary, which greatly displeases Umbridge.

“I think, Your Excellency,” Umbridge said to Fudge in her characteristically sweet voice, not from Hogwarts but in the Minister for Magic’s office, “you should keep an eye on your secretary, Weasley. I don’t really trust him.”

Fudge quite liked Percy; the young man was shrewd and capable, and most importantly, he knew how to get things done, which pleased Fudge.

(End of this chapter)