days at Hogwarts

Chapter 728 Crookshanks:?
The candle flame floated silently in the air like an illusory light source. Harry opened his eyes wide and carefully observed his memories. In just a few seconds, the hazy and distorted images in his memory gradually and rapidly zoomed in, as if a layer of filter had been peeled off.

The swaying candle flame stabilized and burned quietly in the air. Various bright colors quickly spread along the outlines of objects. The picture showed a real texture, the sound was no longer ethereal, and the vague memories that had been washed away by the years suddenly became clear, as if experiencing it again in person.

In the scene of his own memory, Harry's perception materialized an illusory figure, more transparent than a ghost, and no one in the memory could detect it.

"Liza Dupin!"

"Ravenclaw!"

The voices of Professor McGonagall and the Sorting Hat echoed throughout the hall. The cheers of Ravenclaw were cautious and restrained. The face of the girl in the same grade was very familiar. He had met her in many classes. Until now, Harry suddenly realized that he remembered her full name.

Harry collected his thoughts, shut out the surrounding noise, and looked towards the guest of honor seat.

Dumbledore sat in the center seat, his silver hair and beard glowing slightly, Professor Snape was dressed in a black robe, his deep gaze always cast towards the Gryffindor table, but he looked away when the boy with glasses and a scar on his forehead raised his head. Harry used to not understand it, but after seven years, he could now understand that look.

Next to him was Professor Quirrell, whose face was extremely pale and whose head was wrapped in an abrupt and heavy purple scarf, making him look very strange.

Is the weakened spirit of Voldemort hiding beneath that turban?

Harry had a vague understanding in his heart, and an idea suddenly flashed through his mind. He thought about it for a few seconds, and without hesitation, he immediately stood up and walked towards the guest of honor seat.

With Blaise Zabini being sorted into Slytherin, the sorting ceremony came to an end. Professor McGonagall stepped forward to pick up the Sorting Hat and brushed past Harry's illusory body. The swinging hem of her skirt penetrated his body unhindered, reminding him once again that this was only an illusory scene in his memory, and he was not here seven years later.

The sound of metal cutlery colliding, glasses clinking, professors whispering, and Dumbledore's seemingly crazy speech... Harry's illusory body walked across the stairs, across the long table filled with delicious food, and came in front of Quirinus Quirrell.

Harry stared at the tangled turban in front of him, it was wrapped tightly and firmly. He was sure that he had not smelled the stench of Professor Quirrell during the Sorting Ceremony, but now he could smell it very clearly. He didn't know whether it was based on his subsequent memory or if there was indeed such a smell in the real scene and he had ignored it at the time.

A disgusting stench spread out, like the smell of garlic mixed with onions soaked in Hagrid's boots and fermented for several years. Several professors nearby stood far away, and Professor Flitwick buried his head, so it was unclear what his expression was at the time.

Harry tried to untangle the turban, but the phantom body simply passed through and his fingers could not feel anything real.

Of course, things in memory cannot be touched.

"..."

Harry bent down to look at Quirrell's face. The professor always kept his head down, looking timid, as if he didn't dare to look people in the eye. No one would have thought that this former outstanding graduate of Hogwarts, professor of Muggle Studies, would go to Albania alone in pursuit of power, and was eventually controlled by Voldemort to become a puppet, and returned to school to plot against the Philosopher's Stone.

If memory serves, Voldemort is currently observing Hogwarts through Quirrell's perception.

The eyes were black with a thin edge, like a hazy membrane. Harry was reminded of the third eyelid of amphibians, also known as the nictitating membrane, which isolates the eyeball from the real world but does not affect peeping from behind the scenes.

There seemed to be something indescribable floating behind the hazy darkness.

Harry took a deep breath. Although he knew that this was just a reappearance of a memory, when he realized that Voldemort's ghost was right in front of him, he subconsciously stared at those eyes and used Legilimency...

But when his magic spread along his gaze, it only touched a blank, cold blank.

The sounds of the opening party continued, the clinking of wine glasses made a crisp and pleasant sound, and Harry's consciousness rose rapidly, as if he had dived from the depths of the Black Lake. His consciousness surfaced and returned to the hazy memory space. Fragments of memories floated nearby like bubbles, light and shadow flowed, and the scene was blurred.

Several thoughts flashed through Harry's mind, and he seemed to have grasped something vaguely, but when he thought about it carefully, those thoughts quickly slipped away from his mind, leaving only a feeling of loss.

Sinking into the ocean of memory again, he consciously searched for the scenes where Voldemort appeared, the night when the unicorn's corpse was found in the Forbidden Forest, and the adventure of guarding the Philosopher's Stone that year... but he could not find the answer.

I tossed and turned until late at night and finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

……

One morning in mid-July.

The villa area of ​​Hampstead on the outskirts of the city is quiet, far away from the main traffic roads. Each house is far apart, and there is no noisy whistle even on weekdays.

The direction of the bed was changed. Now the sun only hit the buttocks but not the eyes. Loren stayed in bed and felt that he could sleep for several more five minutes.

Besides, the sun hasn’t even reached our butt yet.

The whole house was quiet. Owl Hanhan went out for fun last night and hasn't come back yet. Grandpa Bates went out early.

It is said that two trees in the backyard died. Loren speculated that they died due to improper watering. Grandpa Bates strongly opposed it. He believed that the tree vendor was making dirty money and fooling him with inferior trees. They had been injected with plant hormones before selling them, so they looked lush and green, but the roots were rotten, so they died after only half a year. He got up early on purpose to find the vendor to ask for an explanation, but when he went too late, the vendor had already run away.

I'm too lazy to make breakfast and there's nothing to do. This weather is perfect for sleeping.

After a few five minutes, his mind gradually became clear, but his body was unwilling to get up. Loren turned over, opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, waiting for his body to restart, while his mind was wandering aimlessly.

Theory of Apparition, Boggarts and Dementors, the relationship between body and soul...

The message left by Abraham and Slytherin...

The dark ancient history told by Ms. Daisy Doddridge, traveling through the starry sky in a dream and seeing a planet similar to the earth...

Many images flashed through his mind, and it seemed like a long time had passed before Loren felt sleepiness coming back. He could only sleep for a few more five minutes.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, the air made a loud explosion, and Hermione appeared in the center of the room, holding Crookshanks in her arms. It was unclear what was so good about this ugly cat, with its fat, persimmon-shaped face, as if the whole world owed it cat food.

Seeing the person lying on the bed, Hermione was not surprised at all, but a little helpless. She sat down beside the bed and looked at the lazy person sideways: "How long do you plan to lie on the bed?"

"..."

It's not my subjective decision, so how would I know how long to lie down?
However, Miss Granger comes from a medical family and probably won't accept this answer, so Loren thought about it for a while and stared at the fat cat with a persimmon face: "Give me another five minutes."

“How many five minutes?”

"This question stumps me."

Hermione let go of the cat in her arms and watched it walk lightly to the pillow, curl itself up into a ball, and squint its eyes, as if it wanted to sleep in with this man.

Loren's eyes were open. He had just woken up, and there was no blood in his white eyes. His pupils were dark, and his eyes looked clean and bright. This man had a good appearance. Hermione didn't care about that, but sometimes she wanted to take a few more glances at him.

She rarely urged him to get up, nor did she emphasize how much homework he had to do today. She asked softly, "Did you stay up late last night?"

Loren hummed, "Remember that strange Soul Stone? Flamel proposed a conjecture, which I verified some time ago. I spent some time summarizing it last night. I have made some progress, but I still haven't completely solved the secret of the Soul Stone." Hermione looked down at him with a gentle look in her eyes, "There will be plenty of time in the future, so study it slowly."

"I know." Loren pupated twice, closing the distance between him and Hermione. "It was just that I suddenly made a small discovery, and I thought there would be a bigger breakthrough. I was a little excited, and I stayed up late without realizing it."

"What did you find?"

Loren moved closer to her and could smell a light fragrance. "Doesn't that stone reflect other people's emotions? After returning from vacation, I discovered that creatures with magic are different from those without magic. The color marking the wizard is brighter, and it may be the magic that is at work..."

"Who have you used the Soul Stone on?" Hermione gently stroked his hair. The natural curls were still soft and warm. The hair slipped through her fingers, feeling slightly itchy.

"Let me recall, there was the beautiful counter at the bakery, the cashier at the fresh food supermarket, the candy store..."

Hermione's expression was slightly cold. She just held a handful of his hair in her hand. She knew very well that this man was deliberately making her angry, but she still had the urge to grab his hair tightly and pull it.

"hey-hey……"

Loren knows that this behavior is dangerous, but he still enjoys doing it. There is no other reason, just for the pursuit of excitement.

Freeing his hair from Hermione's hands, Loren tried to put his head on her legs, but found the posture a little awkward, so he changed the direction and finally rested his head on her legs.

"Why don't you continue counting?" Hermione began to pinch his earlobes. The girl's hands were really restless.

"I'm not stupid."

Loren turned his head twice, trying to get rid of her hand that was kneading his ear, but the man started pinching his nose and poking his face. In short, he just refused to stay still.

Loren simply hugged the girl's waist and buried his face in her abdomen to avoid harassment. The soft short-sleeved shirt smelled a little fragrant, so he couldn't help but take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

"Don't move."

Hermione's voice trembled. She was still sitting on the bed, but her body was a little stiff. Her slender white fingers covered both sides of her head. She used both hands to move slowly and firmly, "Or I'll pull your hair."

"..."

Loren didn't struggle, but was a little indignant: "It's not fair! You would rather hug Crookshanks than me?"

"Meow?"

Crookshanks, who was standing nearby, heard someone calling him, raised his head and called out in confusion.

"..."

Hermione calmed herself down silently, ignoring the cat or the man.

"Don't say anything, are you feeling guilty?"

"Shut up and get up and wash up."

"Lie down for another five minutes."

"You've been lying there for more than ten and a half minutes. Are you going to get up or not?"

"..."

Loren looked at the sun that was about to shine on his butt and got up anyway.

Usually, he is carefree, but he knows how to read people's expressions when it's critical. Generally, it's not appropriate to continue to pester them. And it's almost five minutes. At this time, getting up is not due to threats, but to comply with the agreement.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth, then looked at the face in the mirror. It was indeed a righteous person who was not afraid of power and obeyed the rules.

Exactly five minutes later, Loren returned to the bedroom again.

The girlfriend was holding the ugly cat and teasing it again. She didn't know that the cat was not as good as her boyfriend. She was teasing it and muttering to herself. But Crookshanks was still yawning with a disgusted expression, as if to say, "Don't disturb my sleep."

Loren rushed forward angrily, hugged the girl and pushed her onto the bed.

……

Hermione was both angry and amused, and let him do what he wanted.

At first, he just hugged her waist, his hands were a little tight, but it didn't hurt her, it was a very warm embrace. Then he buried his head in her neck and took a breath, as if he was smelling the fragrance of some flowers. This was an intimate action he often did, but his breath was a little hot, burning the girl's heart. Later, he became restless, and he began to kiss along the neck, moving all the way to the collarbone and neck, numb and itchy, the wet and hot temperature penetrated into her heart, stimulating her whole body to start heating up.

Hermione wanted to stop him at first, but twisting her body a few times only made him suck harder, so she gave up struggling and collapsed.

When the wet heat moved up to her lips, the girl hummed nasally and began to respond to this thick and pure love.

Maybe it was because I had just finished washing up, this kiss had a faint smell of toothpaste and mint, somewhat familiar, yet somewhat strange. I still remember that his previous kisses always smelled of orange...

Hermione closed her eyes, not panicking at all.

She trusted Loren and the passionate yet restrained love between them.

Crookshanks was kicked in the middle of the conversation, and his accusing meows went unanswered, so he slipped out of the room in a hurt mood, closing the door for them.

It was unknown how long this passionate lovemaking lasted, and neither of them noticed the passage of time. When they were excited, their love was overflowing. When they were exhausted, oh, no, they just stopped naturally, or maybe they were tired of kissing.

Hugging his beloved girl sideways, Loren's expression and mood were very happy. He had verified that boyfriends were still more fragrant than cats.

The sun is shining wherever you look.

Hermione also hugged him tightly, and suddenly tugged at his sleeve, her voice softer than a mosquito: "You bit me."

Loren moved back. "Sorry, I didn't put my wand away."

"..."

(End of this chapter)