days at Hogwarts

Chapter 530 A Relatively Peaceful Dinner

Walking on the stairs leading to the basement kitchen in the Black mansion, smelling the rich aroma of stew, Hermione's steps were lighter than when she came. She couldn't help but look at the storage pendant around the man's neck.

Take a look, take another look...

"Your eyes will fall out if you move them again, curious Miss Granger."

Loren was somewhat helpless, and twisted her face to turn back to the front, "It's not that I don't want to show you, it's just that we don't have enough time, they are still waiting for us downstairs..."

"I'm not Professor Moody, how could my eyeballs fall out..." Hermione's face was held down and she mumbled incoherently.

"Your eyeballs keep moving around, and they might fall out like Professor Moody's did. When the time comes, I will install fake eyeballs for you myself and give you the nickname Magic Eye Granger..." Loren pinched her soft cheek.

Hermione felt pain and angrily slapped his hand away, glaring at him with a dangerous look.

Loren quickly looked straight ahead, his expression becoming serious: "I wonder if Mrs. Weasley and the others have finished their quarrel... Let's keep the matter of Kreacher and the Horcruxes a secret for now, and discuss whether to tell them after we meet with Headmaster Dumbledore. What do you think?"

"A poor diversion."

Hermione poked her sore cheeks with her tongue and ignored his offense.

Walking up the stone steps illuminated by dim lights, we returned to the underground kitchen surrounded by rough stone walls. The fireplace and stove emitted bright flames, and the steam of broth filled the air, mixed with a little smoke from burning matches, just like the smoke on a battlefield.

The quarrel between the long table and the stove had not ended, but had reached a heated stage.

"Even though he is only fifteen, he has experienced no less than most people in the Order of the Phoenix! Even more than some!" Sirius growled in a low voice, and the veins in his neck bulged due to the force when he spoke.

"No one denies what he did!" Molly turned to the stove, her voice sharp, the long spoon in her hand trembling slightly, "But he still--"

"He's not a child anymore!"

"But he's not an adult either!" Molly tapped the stew pot with a spoon. "Don't mistake him for James. You know what I mean, Sirius!"

"Thank you, I know exactly who he is, Molly."

"Then think about his age. He is still in school. The adults who are truly responsible for him should not forget this!"

"Are you saying that I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius raised his voice in irritation.

"I didn't say that!" Molly threw the spoon into the pot, and the spoon handle made the iron pot clang. She suddenly turned to the other two people, "Arthur, Remus, what do you say?"

Arthur did not speak immediately. Instead, he took off his glasses and slowly wiped the lenses on his robes. Without looking at his wife, he carefully put his glasses back on before speaking: "Dumbledore knows that the situation has changed, Molly. He agrees that Harry must be told the latest news to a certain extent. After all, Harry is now living in the headquarters..."

"Yes, but there is a difference between that and encouraging him to ask random questions!"

"Personally ..." Lupin began, in a low voice, "I think it would be best if Harry got the truth from us. Not all the facts, Molly, but a rough outline of the situation, so that he doesn't get into some muddled version of events ..."

"Can I say something?" Tonks raised her hand timidly and whispered, "I think it's best to allow Harry to express his own opinion on this matter."

The eyes of the red-haired little wizards present all lit up. Harry knew it, which meant they knew it too.

Mundungus, who had been shrinking his head, looked around. As the sixth adult wizard present, he thought he should say something, but when he was glared at by Molly, he shrank back.

"Okay..." Molly turned around and looked around the room. She took a deep breath, her lower lip trembling slightly. "It looks like my opinion will be rejected. I just want to say that Dumbledore must have his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much. Besides, apart from Harry..."

Before she could finish the rest of her words, George and Fred immediately stood up and rushed to the stove, looking like good sons actively helping their mother with housework.

"The bread is ready. How about we eat and chat?"

"Yeah, if you keep talking the food will get cold."

The twins used magic to raise a large pot of stew, a large iron kettle of butterbeer, a heavy bread cutting board, and a knife into the air, and they floated towards this side.

The first thing to arrive was the stew, which slid across the table and stopped right at the edge, leaving a long, blackened streak on the wood. The pot of butterbeer fell on the wooden table and was about to fall over, and Bill hurried to steady it.

Finally the bread knife fell from the board and stuck point downward into the table, quivering menacingly.

"Somewhat unexpected."

"But it was a safe landing."

The twins smiled awkwardly and looked at their mother cautiously.

Molly had a complicated expression. Her face flushed slightly due to her indignation. Her eyes shone with an unusually bright light, which swept across Ron, Ginny, and finally fell on Hermione and Loren.

Loren nodded at her and smiled.

The light in Molly's eyes dimmed, like a deflated balloon. Her shoulders bent slightly, and her voice was no longer as tough as before: "Let's eat first..."

The Weasley children were immediately delighted.

No one spoke for the first few minutes of dinner, except for the clink of plates and cutlery as everyone sat down to eat, the scraping of chairs on the stone floor, and the smacking of Mundungus and Ron's lips.

Tonks entertained Ginny by performing the Metamorphosis while they ate, and every time she shut her eyes tightly and opened them again, her nose would swell up like a bird's beak, looking exactly like Snape's hooked nose, and then shrink back to the size of a button, with nose hairs sticking out of her nostrils.

"Can you turn into a pig's nose, Tonks?"

The young wizards were involuntarily drawn to him, and laughed so hard at his funny appearance that they fell on the table, gasping for breath. Molly lowered her eyes, drank a whole glass of butter beer, and a slightly drunken blush appeared on her face: "Okay, Harry...what do you want to know?"

The laughter at the table suddenly stopped, and even the sound of knives and forks colliding became quieter.

Harry was silent for a moment, then asked in a deep voice, "I want to know where Voldemort is? What is he doing? I've been trying to read the Muggle news, but I haven't found any trace of him. No one has died mysteriously, and nothing has happened."

"That's because, so far, everything is indeed peaceful." Sirius cut the steak on the plate expressionlessly, "No one has died mysteriously, no Death Eaters have come out to cause trouble, and Azkaban is all good. We guess that he doesn't want to attract public attention..."

"Dumbledore was dismissed from his position as President of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot by wizards from the Ministry of Magic because he made speeches on multiple occasions announcing that Voldemort had returned..."

In the small basement kitchen at number 12, Grimmauld Place, Harry and his godfather discussed what had happened during the summer vacation.

In fact, there was no valuable information. Voldemort and the Death Eaters were still lurking, the Ministry of Magic was just sitting there doing nothing, and the Order of the Phoenix could only wait for the opportunity.

Maybe there is more secret information, but only Dumbledore and Snape know it...

Loren listened in silence, breaking off a piece of buttered bread and throwing it to the ginger kitten who was fiddling with the cork of a butterbeer bottle under the table. Crookshanks raised his persimmon-shaped face and glanced at him, then pushed the bread aside with disgust, took a piece of fried fish fillet from the cat food bowl behind him and put it at his feet, patting his ankle as if caressing him.

"..."

……

The Black family mansion was spacious enough and had enough bedrooms, but the number of made beds was limited.

Except for Arthur and Molly, the adult wizards each had a bedroom and bed, while the young wizards lived in pairs in one room. George and Fred lived in one room, and the two girls, Hermione and Ginny, lived in one room as expected.

Harry and Ron wanted to squeeze in with Loren, but he chose to separate and choose a bedroom of his own.

"I'll do it myself, Mrs. Weasley."

Looking at Molly busy preparing for him, Loren said softly, "It's been a busy day, you should go back and rest first."

"It's an easy job." Molly said, turning her head and glancing at the corridor. "I have to go to their room to warn them later. When I went upstairs, I told them to go to bed immediately, but I also knew that they would definitely stay up late and wait for me to return to the room to hold their own meeting. If I don't do this, I'm a Flobberworm..."

"Meeting..." Loren said nothing, recalling the secret exchanges between the Weasley children while winking at each other when they went upstairs.

Harry and Ron had been trying to persuade him to share a room with them. Anyway, the rooms in Black Mansion were spacious enough. When they were at the Burrow last year, five people shared a room without any problem. The idea was to get together in the evening for a small meeting...

I thought this was a secret, but I didn't expect that parents are parents after all, and they know what their children are going to do just by looking at their buttocks...

"Anyway, I will patrol the corridor. If I catch them sleeping restlessly, they will be punished to clean the stairs tomorrow!" Molly patted the quilt that had been dried in the sun fiercely. "You are more reliable, Loren, and you didn't play tricks with them."

In fact, he also had a small meeting to hold, but it was a purely academic meeting. The main content was to carefully observe the Horcrux that had just been obtained with a little witch. The time just now was too rushed, and they also wanted to take a closer look at what Slytherin's locket looked like and whether it had any strange magic...

Loren's expression was a little strange. Under the not-so-bright candlelight, he quickly glanced at Mrs. Weasley and whispered, "It's normal for friends to talk after not seeing each other for a month."

Molly smoothed the last corner of the quilt and raised her eyebrows: "Didn't they let them reminisce at the table? Won't there be time to reminisce later?"

"You're right..." Loren paused, recalling the quarrel in the kitchen, and spoke slowly, "However, compared to completely locking him... us in a safe cage, letting us fly may give us more ability to protect ourselves when we encounter danger. What do you think, Mrs. Weasley?"

"I know, of course I know..." Molly stopped what she was doing and lowered her head slightly so that Loren wouldn't see her eyes. "But I'm worried. I keep dreaming about you... the scene of your death, your corpses, you lying on the cold floor, with your arms and legs broken, blood flowing from your mouth..."

Her voice was filled with sobs. "I haven't slept well since the night of the Goblet of Fire Tournament. I..."

"No, it was just a dream..."

Loren's words of comfort sounded a little feeble. He couldn't tell the mother that everything was going to be fine, that everyone was going to be okay.

"Just don't mess around with them. I'll go tell Hermione to keep an eye on Ginny for me!" Molly clapped her hands, got up and walked out the door. "Have a good dream, Loren!"

"Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley..."

After closing the bedroom door and gently fastening the bolt, Loren stood quietly behind the door for a while before looking around the bedroom.

Perhaps because this old house had been abandoned for too long, the air was always filled with a faint musty smell that could not be dispersed. The candles, torches, gas lamps, and oil lamps throughout the house were too old and the light was weak, which only made the room seem even darker and more gloomy.

Loren stood in front of his bedroom wall, examining the blank canvas before him.

Faded portraits are common in old houses. Many years ago, an ancestor of the Black family might have lived here, often talking to people in the room and instructing the Black children with his profound knowledge and rich experience...

But after years of erosion, and without care and maintenance, the magic of the oil painting has faded along with the ink, leaving only a blank canvas. Only by looking closely can you make out some lines and outlines, as if there is an invisible person living inside, and you can hear the ups and downs of its breathing.

The portrait was so weak that it had almost no magical response, and the portrait inside could no longer speak or move to other frames.

Loren hooked his fingers slightly, turned the picture frame over, and hit the wall with its front.

"Hermione will probably have to wait until Ginny falls asleep before she can come over..."

He muttered something, reached out to touch the pendant on his chest, and took out an exquisite and simple golden pendant box.

The main body is divided into two parts, the necklace and the pendant. The chain is made of dozens of tiny metal rings hooked together. The octagonal pendant is inlaid with many small and delicate emeralds on the side. Even after thousands of years, it still retains a deep brilliance. In the middle is an egg-sized round bulge.

A snake-shaped S divides the left and right sides, like two small windows, with something hidden underneath.

(End of this chapter)