days at Hogwarts

Chapter 566 The First Day of Fifth Grade

The next morning, before it was fully light, the sound of rain could be heard outside the window. The cool air that came in through the window gaps made the soft bedding even warmer, making the people in the dormitory shrink into their beds.

Loren, lying in bed, heard a tinkling sound in a daze. He opened his eyes barely and saw Simo's clothes disappearing quickly behind the door.

Harry and Ron also heard the sound, mumbled a few unclear words, turned over and slept more soundly.

It was not until the alarm clock at Neville's bedside, which sounded like a howling banshee, rang that the remaining four people slowly got up, lazily took off their pajamas, changed into magic robes, and lined up neatly in front of the bathroom mirror to brush their teeth.

"Gurgle gurgle...Pah!"

Loren wiped the foam from the corner of his mouth and turned to look at the two people next to him: "Harry, Ron, how was your conversation with Dumbledore last night?"

"Not very good, or even terrible... Excluding those messy ordinary dreams, Dumbledore didn't want to talk to me at all about the You-Know-Who and Snape. He repeatedly told me to master the brain blocking technique as soon as possible. He said that the strange corridor and the strange room were signs that the You-Know-Who was invading my brain."

Harry dipped the toothbrush in the cup and rinsed it. When he put it back in the cabinet, he was stunned for a moment. "Does this mean that the You-Know-Who can see me brushing my teeth right now through my memory?"

Ron and Neville were also stunned, with the toothbrush stuffed in their cheeks, not knowing how to brush it or how to take it out.

"Probably not. The brain is more complicated than you think. Although you have a unique and intimate connection, when you are far away from each other, only when one of you has drastic emotional fluctuations can the other see some incoherent images according to the emotions."

"I see……"

The sound of the toothbrush rubbing against teeth began again.

"Gulu gulu... bah..."

Ron put away his toiletries and counted his freckles in the mirror to make sure they hadn't increased in recent times. "One more thing, when we left last night, we actually saw Malfoy outside the headmaster's office!"

"But Fox was staring at us and didn't overhear what they were saying."

Harry pushed aside his bangs and looked at his lightning-shaped scar. "How strange! What can Malfoy say to Dumbledore? Report his Death Eater father?"

"It's not a good thing anyway."

"..."

Loren put on his shoes and socks and walked out of the men's dormitory. He stood in the attic and leaned half of his body out. He saw the brown-haired little witch in a magic robe waiting on the sofa. Her pretty eyebrows were slightly raised as she looked at George and Fred standing in front of the bulletin board. There were a dozen little wizards around them, chattering about something.

Harry and Ron immediately became interested, and ran down the stairs, excitedly squeezing into the crowd.

"Let's go downstairs and have breakfast."

There were too many people watching. Loren had no intention of joining in the fun. He put his hands on Hermione's shoulders and shook them: "What are they doing? Why are they so noisy?"

Hermione was pushed out of the portrait hole, her eyebrows knitted tightly together, and she said with a straight face: "George and Fred are recruiting volunteers to test those semi-finished quick-acting skipping candies. You know, Loren, they haven't even made the antidote yet! This is too much, I have to tell Parvati and Neville, and the prefects have to be responsible for stopping them!"

"I don't think the two of them can stop George and Fred. I suggest you report it directly to Professor McGonagall."

"This isn't a good idea. They might end up in detention." Hermione thought about it carefully and shook her head. "Let Parvati and Neville figure it out."

"Professor Granger has a point."

"Ugh……"

There were rows of portraits of old wizards hanging next to the stairs in the corridor. They were all busy talking to each other. When they saw students passing by, they would temporarily shut up and wait until they were far away before continuing to talk.

But the little witch was preoccupied with something and walked down the stairs slowly, causing the old wizards in the portraits to glance at them and stare at them.

The scene before him was so weird that Loren felt frightened. He pushed Hermione's shoulders and staggered away.

They didn’t know which floor it started from, but suddenly a group of freshmen appeared behind them. They followed closely with their heads down, not daring to get too close, nor too far away, for fear of getting trapped on the stairs again.

Loren and Hermione looked at each other, recalling when they first entered school in the first year. The corners of their mouths unconsciously curled up and they slowed down their pace slightly.

They walked all the way to the marble staircase on the first floor. They heard the freshmen behind them cheering and filing through the entrance hall into the auditorium. The Hufflepuff freshmen were the most polite and even knew to thank them.

The magic dome of the auditorium was still cloudy and gray.

The professors in the guest of honor seats were sitting scattered around. Professor Sinistra of Astronomy was chatting with Hagrid. There was no sign of Dumbledore or Umbridge. Below the guest of honor seats, the competent Professor McGonagall was distributing the course schedules along the table one by one, while the lazy Professor Snape ordered his prefects to distribute the course schedules one by one, showing the difference in teacher ethics.

Hermione was chewing bread while looking at the schedule. Loren had almost finished eating when he remembered that the parchment next to him was not for wiping the mouth. Before he could pick it up and look at it carefully, he heard a grinning sound next to him. He turned around and saw that the person who made the sound was Ron Weasley, the reserve captain of Quidditch.

Ron sat on the stool, staring at the schedule on the table in a trance. In one hand he held a piece of bread that he had taken two bites of, and in the other hand he held a spoon and smeared it on the bread. The key point was that there was nothing on the spoon. He looked stupid and his eyes were blank.

This guy was applying for a drug tester on the spot, and was poisoned by his own brother?
"Merlin's beard, look at today!"

Ron groaned at the schedule, "History of Magic and Potions in the morning, Divination and Defense Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon. Professor Binns, Professor Snape, Trelawney, and that woman named Umbridge, all on the same day! And my Quidditch, how am I supposed to train for this..."

"Our suggestion is, quick-acting candy for skipping classes!" Fred appeared from nowhere and put his arm on his shoulders.

George hugged him from the other side, his tone more intimate and gentle than ever before: "I recommend the Nosebleed Nougat, a new product, with good effects, quick results, and a low price. I guarantee you will be satisfied!"

"If it's so good, why is it so cheap?" Ron stared at him in confusion. "Because we haven't developed an antidote yet..." George avoided his gaze guiltily, "Your nose will bleed continuously, and you will eventually curl up and faint from blood loss."

"Let your brother go!"

Loren couldn't stand it any longer. "You guys were willing to pay Galleons for recruiting other volunteers for the drug test, but you tricked Ron into volunteering to be a guinea pig and even gave you money. Even the goblins in Gringotts wouldn't do such a wicked thing."

"Oh my! That's too much!"

Ron stuffed the bread in his hand into his mouth in two or three bites, swallowed it, and immediately slammed the table and stood up, threatening to die with the two of them, until Fred was willing to compensate them with a whole set of candy gift packs for skipping classes.

"Isn't this just being tricked into being a guinea pig? They're really trying to trick their own brother..."

Loren exclaimed in admiration, shook his head, picked up the course schedule in his hand and looked through it carefully. He was immediately amused. It was indeed the treatment for OWLs candidates. There were five days in a week, and except for half a day free on Thursday afternoon and Friday morning, the rest of the time was filled with courses.

However, there is still no morning and evening self-study, and no weekend tutoring.

"That's it..." Loren flicked the parchment without even frowning.

Looking back to the past, he was also a man who fought his way out of thousands of troops.

Click, click, click...

Hundreds of owls suddenly flew in from the high windows and landed all over the hall, bringing letters and parcels to their owners. They also sprinkled raindrops covered with feathers on the heads of people eating breakfast, startling the little wizards and making them scream.

Loren and the others had ordered newspapers and hurriedly moved the orange juice aside to make room for the owl. After it put down a wet copy of the Daily Prophet, he put a copper knut into the small leather purse on the owl's foot. The postman completed the handover and flapped his wings.

While they were reading the news about the wizarding world and learning about the outside world, Seamus stuffed the last bite of bread into his mouth, threw away the spoon for spreading butter, and wiped his mouth:

"The first class is Professor Binns' History of Magic. I'm going to the classroom to reserve a seat. How about a seat in the back two rows, Harry?"

"Ah?" Harry looked up blankly and stared at him stupidly, "Ah, oh, sure."

"See you later!" Seamus grinned, picked up his schoolbag and ran out of the classroom quickly.

Harry slowly came back to his senses and smiled for no apparent reason: "See you later..."

If Hogwarts had a teaching evaluation, History of Magic would definitely be voted the most boring course in history. Their ghost teacher, Mr. Binns, spoke with a wheezing and drawling tone, which would almost certainly make people drowsy within ten minutes. If it was the first class in the morning in winter, only five minutes would be enough.

The fifth-year History of Magic was no exception. Professor Binns's class format was the same as in previous years. He stood on the podium and read the literature incessantly according to the lesson plan he left behind before his death, while the students took notes below, or to be more precise, they scribbled on their notebooks with quills in their groggy heads.

The scribbles-like notes were even more unimaginable than the ancient runes. The person concerned vaguely remembered that he had written down "In the early 18th century, goblins launched a rebellion." When the get out of class was over, he woke up from his sleep and found a Fauvist abstract painting drawn on the notebook.

After Professor Binns had been talking about the Giant War in a drawling tone for an hour, Hermione was the only one in the class who could resist his hypnotic power. The other students either began to shake their heads and act like chickens pecking at rice, or began to daydream and become absent-minded.

Loren was busy flipping through his History of Magic textbook, killing time like he was reading a story, while Harry and Ron were playing hangman in a corner of their notebooks.

The second class was Potions, and as expected, Gryffindor and Slytherin had the class together.

Loren and Hermione were more active. They hurried through the windy courtyard and entered the Potions classroom before most people, taking a front row seat.

He also saw Draco, surrounded by Slytherins, puffing out his chest to show off his prefect badge, but with a stern face trying to look humble, his hypocrisy was almost written on his face.

Harry and Ron looked lazy, with their collars turned up and their heads hunched, and they slowly walked into the classroom as the bell rang, only half a minute faster than Snape.

Snape's appearance had not changed much, his hair was still greasy and his face was gloomy, as if as long as he stood on the podium of this potion classroom, he would always be the potion professor and the head of Slytherin. His speaking style was the same as in previous years, his tone was calm without any ripples, but his voice was like an aria.

"Quiet!"

Snape waved his wand and closed all the doors and windows. His voice echoed in the classroom: "Before we start class, I think I need to remind you that you will take an important exam next June, when you will prove how much you have learned about the preparation and use of potions. Although there are a few people in this class who are indeed very dull, I hope that you can all barely "pass" the OWL exam!"

"Of course, after this year, many of you will no longer be able to take my classes. I only select the best students to enter my advanced potions class. This also means that we will have to say goodbye to some people."

Feeling Snape's meaningful gaze, Harry curled his lips and thought to himself that he should get good grades in the exam and come to the Potions classroom again next year to disgust Snape.

But after thinking about it carefully, I decided to give up. It would be better to escape from Snape as soon as possible. There is no need to get entangled with him.

Harry raised his chin and glared back with the same meaningful look. He couldn't help feeling a vicious sense of pleasure at the thought that he could give up Potions class next year.

Anyway, I don’t think this way because I failed to get into the advanced class!
"Today, we are going to prepare a potion that often appears in ordinary wizard level exams - a relaxing potion, which can calm and relieve irritable and anxious emotions. Please note that if you are careless when adding the ingredients, it will cause the person taking the potion to fall into a dead and sometimes even irreversible sleep, so you need to pay special attention to your behavior..."

If Hogwarts had teaching evaluation, Snape would definitely be elected the most annoying professor, at least in Gryffindor College. I don't know if it was for preparation for the exam, but he spoke very quickly on the theoretical part, finishing the explanation of the potion in a few words. His analysis of the principles of various materials and brewing techniques was even more perfunctory, claiming that he had explained similar potions before and would not repeat them.

Just ten minutes into the class, Snape knocked on the blackboard and asked the students to start practicing.

"The ingredients and preparation methods are on the blackboard. The materials needed for the potion are in the storage cabinet. The time limit is one and a half hours. Let's get started."

It just so happens that the preparation of this potion is the most difficult and tedious one among the intermediate potions. The ingredients must be added to the crucible in strict order and quantity, and the mixture must be stirred strictly according to regulations. The quantity is strictly required, the stirring direction is strictly required, the temperature is strictly required, and the timing of feeding is accurate to the second.

Harry and Ron were busy sweating profusely, and Seamus was frantically poking the flames under his cauldron with the tip of his wand. In the whole class, only Loren and Hermione successfully prepared a qualified palliative, but they still received a lot of critical comments.

(End of this chapter)