days at Hogwarts

Chapter 645 Wu's Orphanage

Loren has six more glass bottles like this in his pendant space.

If there were no other Potions Masters in the school, and no one else who had mastered the magic of time, then these two bottles of Felixir should have been the ones that he personally brewed and witnessed being packaged last night.

Hermione walked lightly to her original position and sat down, handing one of the bottles to Loren:

"Professor Slughorn gave it to me. One bottle is for you and one is for me. He said it was a reward for the first Potions class and he promised it to us at the time."

Loren thought this retired professor was quite interesting. He thought it was over after all the delays last night, but it turned out he was waiting here. Anyway, neither side was losing money, so he didn't bother to think about it and calmly put away the Fuling potion.

He chuckled and said, "Professor Slughorn is quite interesting. Although he pursues material enjoyment, he is not greedy when he gets the Felicity Potion."

Hermione nodded. "Although he favors club members, he doesn't ignore other students because of this. He is a good professor with some shortcomings."

"Just looking at me weirdly."

"..."

Hermione glanced at Madam Pince in front of the bookshelf, pursed her lips and said nothing, picked up the quill pen, dipped it in ink again, and continued to write the unfinished translation homework.

Loren lowered his head to read a book, deliberately pretending to be focused. When the administrator's gaze shifted, he began to talk about the precautions of the Felixir, his voice was very low and his lips hardly moved.

"…The dose in the glass bottle is enough for several uses. Be careful not to use it continuously, as there is a risk of addiction."

"Don't worry, is there anything in school that is worth using Felicis?"

"Final exam."

"How could I..."

Hermione was about to retort when she looked up and found that the man was staring at her silently with a scary look in his eyes. She couldn't help but shrink her neck.

It's just a thought, not a practice.

……

7:30 p.m.

The moon is also very round tonight.

After dinner, they sat in the common room for a while, then Loren and Harry left the portrait hole and headed to the headmaster's office to keep their appointment with Dumbledore.

It was not yet lights-out time, and the two walked through the corridor side by side. Occasionally they met some familiar faces on the way, Gryffindors running around playing and fighting, Hufflepuffs bringing food to the rooftop for a meal, the occasional Ravenclaw exploring the castle, almost no Slytherins, portraits in photo frames, and transparent figures that appeared from behind the wall without warning.

"2 of Spades, conflict..."

"Seven of Spades, a bad omen..."

"..."

A faint female voice mumbling could be heard.

Loren slowed down his pace: "Did you hear anything?"

"no?"

Suddenly, a woman in a black robe jumped out from the corner. Her face was extremely thin, with an expression of worry, grief and pain. Her big eyes occasionally turned around. It was Professor Trelawney.

She smelled of sherry and was shuffling a dirty deck of playing cards, reading the points on the cards and muttering to herself: "The ten of spades, violence... the jack of spades, a young man with dark hair... well, this can't be right."

Loren and Harry watched her disappear into the distance, not surprised.

Ever since the centaur Firenze joined Hogwarts as another divination professor, Trelawney has been restless and suspicious all day, thinking that Professor McGonagall wants to fire her. The young wizards often see her pestering Dumbledore for an explanation. Harry looked away, as if remembering something, and asked hesitantly, "Loren, do you know how to interpret dreams?"

"I've learned Divination."

"I know, but Ron and I never really listened."

"I sleep better than you during class."

"At least you read the book carefully."

"Why not chase after Professor Trelawney and ask her? She will surely be willing to interpret your dream for you."

"Forget it. No matter what the dream is, she will interpret it as an ominous sign for me. If I'm lucky, it means I'll get injured, but if I'm unlucky, it means death."

Loren probably guessed his dream and said vaguely: "I can't interpret dreams, but I can listen to you talk about it..."

"When you dream, you forget most of it when you wake up in the morning, and only remember a small part of it clearly."

Harry looked at the empty corridor with a gentle look in his eyes. "I remember it started from that night, the night I hung Ron upside down... Since then, I have had dreams every night. I dreamed about my mother when she was young, like how she and Aunt Petunia were actually very close, like how she showed her talent for magic and received an admission letter from Hogwarts..."

The Evans family was very happy at that time. It turned out that Aunt Petunia did not reject magic at first, and even envied her sister's talent...

"It's weird, isn't it?" Harry scratched his head. "To be honest, I'm quite happy to see my mother in my dreams every night."

Loren shook his head and said nothing. He knew Harry didn't need a dream interpretation, he just wanted to find someone to talk to.

"..."

eight pm.

The two arrived outside the headmaster's office on time, knocked on the door and entered. Dumbledore was sitting behind the desk and invited them to take a seat with a smile.

"I think you all remember the story of the Gaunt family. Marvolo and Monet were imprisoned. Merope married that handsome Muggle and was eventually abandoned. She stayed alone in London, sold Slytherin's locket for ten Galleons, had a difficult pregnancy, and chose to die on the night of delivery..."

Loren's mind flashed back to the weekend of his second year when Dumbledore took him to Little Hangleton and told him the story of Merope outside the old Gaunt house.

Moonlight quietly entered the house. Dumbledore placed his wand against his temple, drew out a wisp of silver smoke, gently placed it into the Pensieve, and then stirred it. "Tonight's moon is very suitable for adventure. We are going to go back 60 years to meet the child who will become Voldemort in the future."

Harry had experience, so he didn't ask any more questions and dived into the Pensieve.

Loren looked up at the old principal, then leaned over and immersed himself in the cold memories in the stone basin.

It was as if he had fallen from a great height, and the feeling of weightlessness lasted for a few seconds. After his feet planted firmly on the ground and he opened his eyes, Loren found himself on a busy, old-fashioned street. Harry and Dumbledore were observing a tall young man.

That was Dumbledore in his youth. Although his beard and hair were very long, they had not turned gray yet, but were a lively auburn. He was wearing an exquisite purple velvet suit. He crossed the road ahead of a carriage and strode forward along the sidewalk.

"Nice dress, sir."

"What a beautiful beard, sir,"

Hearing the two people's praise, Dumbledore chuckled softly and pulled the two people to catch up quickly.

After walking a short distance, I passed through a large iron gate and finally entered a bare courtyard. Behind the courtyard was a gloomy and closed building surrounded by high railings.

There is a copper doorplate on the door:

Wu's Orphanage

(End of this chapter)