Hogwarts Wasteland: The Witch from the Borderlands

Harry didn't spend long lost in his memories before he pulled his parents over.

"You must be Hermione? Lily always praises you in her letters." Mr. Potter had clearly had quite a bit to drink; his face was flushed, and his hair was as messy as Harry's, except that his eyes were a different color—Harry's were a beautiful turquoise, just like his mother's.

"Hello, Mr. Potter." Hermione, now fully fed, was a perfect lady.

"Harry was so lucky to have you taking care of him at school," James Potter said with a wry smile, rubbing his red ears.

"Yes, if someone hadn't taken it upon themselves to switch the invisibility cloak, your son wouldn't be causing so much trouble." Lily said in an unfriendly tone, clearly indicating that James's ear was the victim of her machinations.

"Hey darling, it's a Potter family tradition. How could a man from the Potter family not have used an invisibility cloak to explore Hogwarts!" James weakly protested.

Lily sighed and rubbed her forehead in exasperation: "Forget it, he's already had a taste of the benefits. There's no point in confiscating it now. Boys will always find a way to sneak out."

"Really, Mom! You're so great, Mom! I love you!" Harry jumped up excitedly, his ears also turning bright red.

"But Hermione, you mustn't follow their bad example. Also, you must supervise them to do their homework! Don't let them copy!" Lily pressed Harry's head and instructed the girl.

James stood to the side, squinting and grinning foolishly, whether from drinking too much or from remembering something, it was hard to tell.

"By the way, Miss Granger, perhaps we could invite you to visit the Potters during the summer holidays?"

"Yes! I can introduce you to my godfather and Uncle Lupin!" Harry exclaimed excitedly.

"I would be honored if I had the chance," Hermes said gratefully. Children without families usually work part-time with professors during the summer vacation.

Just then, Hermione spotted Flitwick waving at her from the far end of the Ravenclaw table. She quickly gave the three of them an apologetic look and walked toward the Eagle Head's table.

Halfway there, she saw that Professor McGonagall was surrounded by many people, but she still took the time to nod and smile at her, and she smiled back.

"Hermione, let me introduce you. These are scholars in the field of spell studies, and they are also reviewers for 'Postwar Spell Studies'," Flitwick said, sitting on a specially raised bench and pointing to the elderly wizards beside him.

They were both men and women, dressed in retro-style robes reminiscent of the Middle Ages, and all shared the characteristic of having wrinkled faces.

"This group of people must be a thousand years old combined," Hermione thought to herself.

Because there were too many people, she couldn't remember who they were, but the most famous one was an old woman sitting in the middle, who was none other than Miranda Goshak, the author of the Standard Spells series. Flitwick was also regretting that he hadn't invited Adber Waughlin, the author of Magic Theory, who was the father of modern magic theory and one of Dumbledore's friends.

"We've all read your paper. Although it has the distinct characteristics of Felius in its format, there's no denying that this unique insight is something that a metal-headed man who only knows how to fight couldn't have come up with." The old witch began her criticism of Flitwick without holding back.

To Hermione, the Charms professor is wise and learned, but to Ms. Goshak, he's just a brute who only knows how to fight with spells. Of course, the two are not far apart in age, so it's normal for them to attack each other because of their different viewpoints.

Professor Flitwick wasn't angry; he smiled and drank from his glass.

"I heard you're a natural radiation user... no, a user of sapphire magic, which is a unique case worldwide, so we old folks all wanted to come and see you," Miranda said kindly, raising her right hand, a ball of fluorescent blue starlight swirling in her palm.

"Radiant Stone Magic, what a nice name, much better than Radiation Magic. These men just can't understand the beauty of naming."

"In fact, we have already mastered the two types of magic described in the paper. Even without considering their power, they allow for easier manipulation of radiation energy, which is of great significance for our restoration of the natural environment and expansion of Muggle settlements."

Hermione looked at the elders in surprise as they lit up their starlight. Clearly, these wizarding scholars were not just sitting idly by. Their ability to accept new things and their learning ability surprised Hermione. She had thought it would take at least several months for these old fogies to be willing to set aside their pride and try the magic invented by a first-year student.

"It is my honor, madam," she said sincerely.

"In a few months, most wizards throughout the entire civilization will learn about your magic and gradually apply it."

"Because you've made a good start, we old folks have also found a direction for our research. We hope you can maintain this momentum and continue to develop your magic, so that we old folks don't surpass you," Ms. Goshak said with a smile, just like a senior giving earnest advice to a newcomer.

"Of course, we'll also remind the magazine to pay you your article fee according to the standards for well-known authors. You'll have to keep pestering Felius to make sure he reviews your manuscript carefully!"

Hermione, covered in sweat, made a promise to the group of old men and women and finally managed to escape.

But at this moment, she no longer had the energy to eat a second meal. The hot auditorium made her feel a bit suffocated, so she came out alone, wanting to go to the quiet balcony for some fresh air.

But to her surprise, the deserted balcony she chose had a large, molting bird standing on it!

It's Dumbledore!

She held her breath, not daring to disturb the headmaster's private moment, and tried to slip away quietly, but Dumbledore called her back.

"Is this Hermione? Minerva keeps talking about you. May I call you that?"

"Since we've run into each other, why don't we spend some time with the elderly? Old people always find it hard to bear loneliness."

Hermione cautiously stepped forward, keeping a distance of a step from Phoenix: "You know me?"

Phoenix then turned his head, his eyes misty, like a thin veil over the night, yet gleaming with a lively and intelligent light: "You are the child that my vice principal is so proud of."

Hermione smiled, her courage gradually growing: "Why don't you come in person for such a joyous night?"

Phoenix chuckled: "Because I need to remind myself that true peace is still far from being achieved."

"But people always need to relax. If you're always tense, you'll break down," Hermione said.

"You're right, child. Perhaps one day, I should also lay down my burdens and enjoy the fireplace and desserts."

"Oh, speaking of which, do you have any favorite desserts? You know, I'm a huge dessert lover."

"Hmm, I love Lemon Olaf. Even though this is my first time having it tonight, I don't think my love for it will ever change," Hermione said firmly.

"Ah, it seems we'll have a lot in common. But Lemon Olaf is only my second favorite dessert. If you have the chance, I recommend you try a cockroach pile... Back in the Scottish Highlands, the Honey Duke of Hogsmeade had the most authentic cockroach piles..."

Hermione sat on the stone chair on the balcony, listening to the old man's rambling tales, as if her memories were following him back to the era before the war.

Endless green meadows, the melodious sound of Scottish bagpipes, a giant octopus in the Black Loch, and the wizarding village that lives there, where Quidditch is held every year...

Bang! Fireworks exploded, creating a dazzling spectacle, but outside the Hogwarts barrier, thick snow covered everything, and nothing could be seen in the deep black night.

"Ah, before I knew it, I'd been rambling on for so long," Dumbledore said apologetically with a smile.

"I just wanted to see the best freshmen in the school. I'm sorry to have taken up so much of your time, kid."

"It is my honor to speak with an elder like you," Hermione said modestly.

"Felius was just showing off your paper to me not long ago. Can I see your magic? Just to satisfy an old man's curiosity?"

Hermione readily complied, scattering starlight with a wave of her hand, suspending it in the air outside the castle like a sky full of stars.

"How beautiful," the phoenix murmured, "just like the real starry sky before the war."

The large bird flapped its wings, and a speck of starlight broke free from Hermione's grasp, landing before Dumbledore: "Pure and controllable, completely different from what I saw in Cherokee. Perhaps this is the correct way to use this power?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, thinking that the sages who explored the limits of the Primal Crystal magic at the Borderlands did not fare well, but she didn't know how to explain the Crystallization Faction and the Origin Faction. As an 11-year-old girl, she shouldn't know how to extract a person's soul and imprison it in Primal Crystal, nor should she know that studying the origin of stars would eventually turn into inorganic crystals, or even more taboo, into Primal Crystal-headed beings...

"Perhaps power itself is just a tool; it is the people who use power who should be given more attention."

Phoenix looked at her with slight surprise, and after a long silence, said, "You are a good child."

He turned his head and said, "Speaking of which, I should give you a Christmas present. Consider it a little surprise from the principal to the most outstanding freshman."

As she spoke, a crystal tear flowed from the corner of Phoenix's eye, quickly condensing into a clear diamond in mid-air and landing in Hermione's hand. She could feel the astonishing life force contained within it; even if she were severely injured and on the verge of death, this tear could save her life.

"Alright, it's time for the nagging old man to go." With that, the phoenix shook its feathers, preparing to take flight.

Hermione suddenly had a flash of inspiration and quickly asked, "Professor, did you spot us in the restricted area of ​​the fourth-floor corridor that night?"

The phoenix turned its head and tilted its head to look at her, its feathered bird face seemingly wearing a half-smile: "Really? As you get older, your memory doesn't improve. But I really envy you. Youth and adventure are always endless topics to talk about in your later years."

With a bang, the phoenix disappeared into the flames.

Hermione was left with her cheeks puffed out. This old man's words were so cryptic and incomprehensible, it was really unpleasant!