days at Hogwarts

Chapter 565 Just Close Your Eyes and Lie Down
As soon as Dumbledore announced the end of the banquet, there was a sound of tables and chairs colliding in the hall. Neville stood up in panic and shouted in a slightly trembling voice:
"First-year students, move this way!"

A group of freshmen timidly walked through the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Their young faces tried to hide at the back, not daring to step forward, but they blinked their bright eyes and looked at the somewhat shy prefect curiously.

Neville's throat tightened. He was sure that he was not so nervous when he was first sorted into Gryffindor: "Follow... follow me, don't mix with the teams of other houses."

Fortunately, as soon as the freshmen were led out of the auditorium, Parvati took over the guidance with a smile on her face and a calm expression:
"The place you were just in is the auditorium. We eat here, receive packages and letters sent by owls here, and participate in special events held by the school here. In short, except for the common room, this will be the place where you will spend the longest time in school..."

"Our prefect seems very reliable."

Loren was still holding a piece of egg tart in his hand. He looked at the freshmen lined up and walked out of the door neatly, and sighed to Hermione.

"Neville has always been reliable."

"Oh! You mean Parvati is unreliable?"

"..."

Listening to the two men mumbling meaningless jokes, Harry poked Ron with his arm and said in a voice that only the four of them could hear: "I'm going to talk to Dumbledore about dreams. Do you want to come with me?"

"I want to go!" Ron raised his hand in response.

"Loren, Hermione, what about you?"

"Forget it, we plan to go back early and make the beds."

"Huh?" Ron looked at them in surprise.

"See you later."

Harry didn't say much. He nodded and pulled Ron out of the hall. He pushed through the crowd and hurried up the marble stairs, leaving behind many whispers and pointing, and soon disappeared around the corner of the stairs.

"Harry looks a little unhappy..." Hermione withdrew her gaze and gave a helpless smile.

"No one would be happy to be stared at like that throughout the entire dinner." Loren shook his head. "When the Daily Prophet was instructed by the Ministry of Magic to slander Dumbledore, it also dragged him into it, saying that he couldn't distinguish between reality and fantasy, and that he was a reckless fool who made up lies full of loopholes just to get attention..."

Hermione sighed softly: "Parvati and Lavender were fine before the holiday, but now they are beginning to doubt Harry. Just now, I heard them discussing whether Dumbledore has signs of Alzheimer's. I really don't know what they are thinking?"

Loren swallowed the last bite of the egg tart and clapped his hands noncommittally: "Let's go back and see what our roommates think."

The Gryffindor common room looked as pleasant as ever, a circular room in the tower filled with armchairs and old tables, the cloth coverings of which had worn away, the legs of which were rickety and creaking, but which were comfortable and soft to sit on.

There was a crackling fire in the fireplace, and a few people were squatting there chatting, leisurely stretching out their hands to warm themselves by the fire.

On the other side of the room, Fred and George were pinning something to the notice board. When they saw Hermione, they immediately straightened their backs to cover the notice behind them, and waved good night to them with a grin.

Loren returned to the dormitory and found that Seamus and Neville had already returned. They were pulling Dean from the next dormitory to put posters and photos on the wall next to the bed.

"My mother didn't want me to come back at first. You've read the articles in the Daily Prophet..." Seamus concentrated on adjusting the poster of the Red Falcon Quidditch team. "She also heard some gossip from the wizard tavern, such as that he murdered the Crouch father and son. Those people said that he really had the ability." "Who? Dumbledore? This is such a joke!"

Dean was about to continue teasing him, but when he turned around and saw Loren pushing the door open, he smiled and said to him, "Hey, Loren! How was your summer vacation?"

"It's neither good nor bad. It feels like the vacation is over before it even began."

"I think so too!" Dean agreed deeply, shaking his head and sighing, "It felt like the year-end party was just yesterday, but it turns out that the branch party is tonight. Sigh..."

Loren stood by the bed, took out the sheets and quilts prepared at home, and answered while making the bed: "That's not the case. After all, the date is marked on every page of the Daily Prophet, proving that the vacation is indeed ending day by day."

Hearing this, Seamus' ears perked up and he looked at him with wide eyes in surprise: "Loren, are you also following the Daily Prophet?"

"Check it out occasionally."

"What do you think of the news above?"

Seamus chose his words carefully and asked in a low voice, "Did Harry really get poisoned by the Acromantula, seduced by the Hinckley Punk, and finally hallucinated by the Boggart?"

"Didn't you ask Harry already?"

"He... he said there was no answer to the question, or that the real question was whether I believed the Ministry or Dumbledore..."

Seamus avoided his gaze and scratched his head. "Of course I believe in Dumbledore. He was very sober tonight and didn't look at all senile...well...well, it was mainly my mother. She heard a lot of gossip from others."

"Isn't this very clear?" Loren took out Autumn's pajamas and shook them. "If you still don't have an answer in your mind, then speculate on the consequences of different choices."

"what?"

"Believe the news released by the Ministry of Magic, that the world is at peace, there is no return of the Dark Lord, lurking in the dark, do what you should do. If the Ministry of Magic is wrong, when danger comes, bury your head in the sand and live a normal life. Just close your eyes and lie on the ground."

"What...what do you mean?" Seamus looked confused.

Neville, who had been silently making the bed, raised his head and said in a dark voice, "If you are hit by a Death Eater's killing curse, you can close your eyes and lie down peacefully."

"If you believe Dumbledore, you will be in trouble. You must be prepared for war. You must store sufficient emergency food and potions, take good protection around the house, try your best to master the Apparition, and it is best to prepare a door key or fireplace for retreat at any time. If Dumbledore is wrong, your emergency work will be in vain, and it will take a long time to eat up the stored food..."

"..."

Seamus lowered his head in silence.

He finally understood what the Slytherin Quidditch players had felt in previous years. There were no vulgar words, no insulting words, but those words were like sharp ice chips, constantly piercing the most tender part of their hearts, making them feel cold and painful.

Dean beside him blinked and quietly took two steps to the side.

(End of this chapter)