days at Hogwarts

Chapter 591 December Snowstorm

The second week of December.

Snow and wind were blowing all over the sky, icicles were growing on the castle walls like ivy branches, frost was condensing on the blackened pear peels, the accumulated snow was weighing down the grass and crushing the wild roses that were growing wildly, the frozen glass was covering the forests and hills, a vast expanse of white desolation.

There was a roaring fire in the common room fireplace all night long, and the hall floor was warm from the kitchen, so it was comfortable most of the time.

Potions and astronomy were tough. Professor Snape's class was in the underground classroom, and the biting cold of the Black Lake seeped through the stone walls. The students' breath and the boiling cauldrons produced clouds of white mist, cold and damp. Professor Sinistra's class was in the open-air tower at night, and the cold wind blowing through the wilderness mercilessly tortured the students' exposed skin. It was inconvenient to operate the telescope with gloves, and after a class, many students' hands and cheeks were even frozen and numb.

On Friday afternoon, the Gryffindor fifth-year students who had just finished class hurried through the drafty corridor and headed straight into the Charms classroom.

Christmas is coming, and Professor Flitwick's classroom has been decorated, with green ribbons woven from mistletoe and holly and decorated with small flowers of various colors on the walls. Those colorful lights will turn into real fairies, fluttering their wings and sprinkling crystal powder beside the little wizards when they are in class.

"Dear students, in this class we are going to learn the Existence Spell. Throughout the long years of magic, the definition of the Existence Spell has always been controversial. When Miranda Goshawk compiled the teaching materials, she described the differences from 23 aspects..."

Loren sat in the last row by the window on the left side of the podium, his hands in his pockets, with The Standard Book of Spells: Advanced on the table.

The page turned to the chapter on the existence curse. There was no note on it and it was almost brand new, with a dried ginkgo leaf in the middle.

A naughty fairy landed next to the ginkgo leaf, curiously poked her head out to look around, and was finally attracted by the fragrance of the plant and lightly moved closer. At this moment, Loren puffed up his cheeks and blew a breath at the ginkgo leaf, and the entire leaf flew over to cover the fairy, pushing her to stagger and fall on the page.

The fairy looked at the guy angrily, flapped her wings and hit him hard, scattering a ball of crystal clear powder.

Then, regardless of how much damage he had done to him, he raised his chin and walked away triumphantly.

There was basically no feeling of that strength.

Loren chuckled, rested his chin on the desk, slowed his breathing, and continued to wait for the next fairy to fall into his trap.

Hermione sighed helplessly. This man had a really bad character.

"...As the key content of OWLs, you need to memorize the entire definition of the Existence Spell and be proficient in casting it..."

Hearing Professor Flitwick's slightly shrill voice, Hermione's fair fingers clenched the quill pen and wrote down lines of detailed and neat notes on her textbooks and notebooks, the scent of ink wafting in the air.

Just as she was concentrating on the class, something flashed past her in the corner of her eye, and the next moment something was suddenly stuffed into her mouth.

Sweet?

The fruity aroma is rich and unique, with the taste of dried mango.

Hermione pursed her lips tightly and turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

Loren tilted his head to his shoulder, showing a puzzled look at the right moment, and then suddenly realized: "Oh... another piece?"

Before she could say anything to refute, hawthorn slices were stuffed into her mouth again. The sweet taste was preceded by a distinct sour taste. The unique taste of hawthorn stimulated her taste buds and her saliva was secreted rapidly. Within a few seconds, her mouth was full of sour and sweet taste.

Hermione swallowed.

At this time, Professor Flitwick on the podium raised his voice:

"Can anyone tell me in which circumstances the Existence Spell is applicable?"

We have been taking classes together for five years. When the professor asked a slightly difficult question, almost everyone's eyes immediately turned to Miss Know-It-All, who was sitting by the window in the last row on the right.

Professor Flitwick also looked at her with a smile: "Miss Granger, can you help us solve this puzzle?"

"..."

Hermione was a little upset.

I have been teased by this guy in the Transfiguration class since the first grade. After five years of getting along with him, I thought I would not be fooled again. Who would have thought that even in the fifth grade, I would still be teased.

Loren raised his right hand calmly and said, "Professor, let me answer. The Existence Spell originated in the 12th century. Ancient wizards used it to..."

"Perfect answer. I couldn't have been more detailed. Five points to Gryffindor for this."

"..."

Recess.

Hermione hit the man's arm hard. She gritted her teeth and almost wanted to throw him out of the window. Then she turned to grief and indignation: "Look at what you have done! Professor Flitwick must have seen it. He asked me to answer the question as a warning to me... He must think I am a bad student..."

Loren still had hawthorn slices in his mouth at this time, and his words were a little vague: "Would you like some strawberries?"

Hermione continued to pat his shoulder: "Can you... stop eating!"

Loren stuffed a strange-tasting candy into his mouth, enjoying the girl's slightly heavy massage, and leaned leisurely against the window, admiring the snow scene outside.

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a flock of birds suddenly flew up from the treetops in the distance, chirping angrily towards the ground, as if the tree they were perching on had just been uprooted. Not long after, Hagrid, wearing a moleskin coat, dragged a thick fir tree out of the forest and walked towards the castle with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

So Loren knew that it should be one of the castle's Christmas trees this year.

Hermione, who didn't use much force but was tired of beating him, twisted him a bit. Seeing him grimacing in pain, she was finally satisfied and hummed with pleasure: "Are we staying at school for Christmas this year?"

"Don't keep it."

"But Voldemort and the Death Eaters are still lurking in the dark. They may come back at any time and cause chaos. Staying at home will cause some delays in getting the news."

"Then stay."

"But Grandpa Bates has complained many times. We haven't been home for Christmas since second grade."

"Then don't stay."

"But the Death Eaters..."

"..."

Loren narrowed his eyes and stared at the man, then hesitated for a moment and said, "Think about it from another angle. Will we go home for Christmas this year?"

“Is there any difference from this angle?”

"Don't worry about it, just answer."

"Then...go home?"

Loren looked refreshed and said cheerfully, "The news will be delayed when I get home."

"No return?"

"If you don't go home, your parents will complain."

"..."

Hermione reacted and rolled her eyes speechlessly. Just as the two were about to continue discussing this issue, they saw another group of birds in the Forbidden Forest in the distance being startled and flying into the air, hovering angrily above the treetops. The two who were talking and laughing looked at each other and tacitly guessed that there should be a few more Christmas trees in the castle this year.

……

Gryffindor common room.

"Mibu Mibao."

Prefect Parvati spoke out the password for tonight, said hello to the Fat Lady, and entered the portrait cave with the registration form for students staying in school.

The common room is always bustling on Friday nights, with all kinds of noisy and playful sounds mixed together, but it does not seem noisy, but instead adds a bit of warmth to the cold winter days.

The banging sounds were from the exploding cards that made a group of people dizzy, the piercing screams were from the little wizard having his face sprayed with disgusting mucus by the Gobstones, the shouting and cursing were from the unconvinced knights in the wizard chess, and there was a group of students sitting around the fire, seriously designing plans to deal with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Even though those plans could not be implemented, for Gryffindors, talking about these was always a happy thing.

Walking out of the tunnel, Parvati was somewhat surprised to find a square table at the entrance, which was covered with all kinds of candies. Judging from the brand new packaging, they were luxury Christmas gift boxes from Honeydukes Candy Store, with many styles and large portions. The table was surrounded by little wizards in their lower grades who were not yet allowed to go to Hogsmeade, their eyes shining as they ate.

Parvati's heart skipped a beat, and she stepped forward to pat first-year student Euan Abercrombie on the shoulder, and asked in a friendly and gentle voice:

"Yuan, who put this candy gift box here?"

Euan Abercrombie was a little confused at first, then he quickly swallowed the hard-to-chew candy and shouted, "It's Prefect Longbottom!"

Parvati breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a little relieved.

"No!" Dennis Creevey interrupted immediately, "It was the kind-hearted Loren Morgan. Prefect Longbottom wanted to give him the big gift box. Loren refused several times and failed to convince Prefect Longbottom, so he distributed the gift box to everyone, saying that Prefect Longbottom was treating everyone..."

Parvati's heart was completely at peace. She touched the hair of the two and solemnly warned them, "Be sure to keep an eye on these candies. Don't let George and Fred get close. They are the red-haired ones from the Weasley family. Do you understand?"

"understood!"

Parvati looked up and saw Neville standing at the bottom of the escalator waving his wand, raising the golden and red ribbons and fixing them to the wall, assisting the professors in completing the Christmas decorations of the castle. This was part of the prefect's job. The work in the common room was relatively safe, but in the corridor they needed to always pay attention to the mischievous Peeves.

Loren and Hermione sat at the round table by the window, which was their regular seat.

Parvati waved the registration form in her hand and walked over.

"..."

"Okay, give me an answer after you've thought it over. No later than Monday."

"Yes Prefect, no problem Prefect."

Loren promised straightforwardly, watching Parvati slowly walk away, shaking his shoulder and bumping into the little witch holding "A Joke Book" next to him: "Did you hear me? Give me a reply before Monday at the latest!"

"Can't you be more decisive and help me make a decision?" Hermione buried her head in the book like a squirrel, and spoke in a long and unclear tone, showing the unique naivety of a young girl.

"Then go home."

"But--"

Without waiting for the two to start a new round of endless argument, Harry slowly moved over with a slightly confused expression. He hesitated for a moment before handing the exquisitely patterned envelope to the two.

"what is this?"

"Sirius's...wedding invitation."

……

Malfoy Manor.

The wide and flat road led to a very respectable mansion. Narcissa Malfoy followed her husband, her steps hurried, her body like smoke, quietly passing through two magnificent wrought iron gates, creaking on the gravel-like snow as she walked towards the door of the house.

Entering the foyer, Narcissa paused for a moment as she saw the luxurious, brightly colored carpet covering the floor, as if she was afraid of her own mansion.

Go upstairs, turn right, turn the bronze handle, and push the door open.

The scene in the living room was the same as always. In the marble-carved fireplace, an orange flame was burning brightly. The subtle sound of the flames mixed with the occasional crackling of matches brought a strange sense of silence and depression.

The originally exquisitely decorated round table was replaced with a long table that could accommodate more seats. Narcissa followed her husband to the empty seat on the right side of the long table and sat down. Without saying a word, she silently watched more and more new faces push the door and take their seats, or rather, these were old faces from a long time ago.

August Rookwood, Anthony Dolohov, Batman Lestrange...

And Snape, who was sitting in the other seat closest to the Dark Lord.

She tried not to think about the pale face of the Potions Master and the Dark Lord, and not to imagine what was hidden behind this similarity...

At this moment, the Dark Lord with a pale face and scarlet pupils suddenly turned his head. He looked at her, or her husband, with interest, with a playful smile on his face.

Narcissa was stunned for a moment, then she forced a smile and nodded slightly, suppressing the discomfort in her heart.

Lucius grabbed his wife's hand under the table, passing a trace of warmth and comfort to her, and looked at the host sincerely: "I'm sorry, Master. In order to get Cornelius Fudge to accept the invitation, I accidentally drank a little too much, so I was delayed staying out."

“Is that so?” Voldemort looked at him with a smile, his venomous gaze almost condensed into substance, causing the hairs to stand on end when it swept across his skin. “I thought I had disturbed your normal life and made you feel unhappy and uncomfortable. What do you think, Lucius?”

Lucius said timidly, "We discussed this last time, Master. It is our honor to have you stay in our home. There is nothing more pleasing than this."

"Really?" said Voldemort carelessly. "So your son will not stay at school during the holidays, and will be happy to join us, right?"

Narcissa's face turned pale immediately, her hands tightly grasping her husband under the table, her eyes filled with tears of fear.

Lucius' lips parted slightly, but he quickly reacted and said in a slightly tense voice, "Yes, Master, Draco will be back."

Voldemort smiled with satisfaction, retracted his gaze, tilted his head slightly to the other side, and looked at the tall man who was very close: "August, how did you do your work?"

"All is well, my Lord." Augustus Rookwood, whose hair was shinier than Snape's and whose face was covered with pockmarks, said, "I waited for Broderick Bode on his way home, and talked with him till late at night, confirming that the Department of Mysteries had not changed much over the years, and was the same as before. But..."

"what?"

"Bode told me that Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody entered the Hall of Prophecy once two years ago, but he didn't know what they did specifically..."

Seeing that Voldemort looked displeased, Rookwood said cautiously, "If you can control Cornelius Fudge, no matter what they do, you will be able to enter the Department of Mysteries and get the prophecy."

"This plan has unpredictable risks..."

Snape interrupted, his eyes looking at him calmly: "Although the master has conquered death, none of us here have. If something unexpected happens... we will not have the chance to wait and rise again."

The people around the table slowed down their breathing and lowered their heads, hardly daring to look at the expression of the person at the head seat. The atmosphere was a little stagnant for a moment. They all understood that Snape was talking about the accident that happened more than ten years ago.

The Dark Lord might be defeated again, and he could plot his resurrection, but these Death Eaters didn't have another fourteen years.

Voldemort slowly turned his head to look at him, expressionless: "So what do you suggest, Severus?"

(End of this chapter)