The Heavens: Hogwarts Transfer Students

The students on the platform are all rushing towards the train, and there are not too few students returning to school after the Christmas holiday.

"Harry! Get in the car."

A familiar figure appeared in front of him, it was Hermione Granger. The little witch was holding a thick magic book. Her face was more mature than Harry remembered, her facial features were more clear and profound, and her figure had grown like a sapling.

Hermione looked at him blankly, and grabbed his wrist. Like a kite being led, he got into the crimson train.

Harry and Hermione were sitting in the same cubicle, just the two of them here.

She took out her mobile phone and took a picture of the scenery outside the window, and shared it on Moments, with a postscript: [Christmas vacation is over, return to study (smiley face emoji)]

Harry kept his gaze out of the window, and he saw a strange person on the platform—a young man, holding an umbrella in such fine weather, he neither boarded the train nor rushed to the next one Trains are like milestones along the road, watching the long river of history flow relentlessly.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione followed his gaze and looked out, "There's nothing."

His focus and thinking seemed to have been destroyed, only to be reconstructed bit by bit from the world around him.

Harry saw Hermione's soft cheeks with the short down, like a peach, and her amber eyes reflected on the glass in the light from the car window, reminiscent of thick pure honey. .

"Huh? Why are you so abnormal today? You're a little silly." Hermione stretched out her hand and shook it in front of him. Harry stared at her hand. It was long and slender with clear knuckles, and each piece of nail was flat, like It is slender quartz, the skin is delicate and fair, without any ugly stains and damages.

Hermione leaned forward, their faces so close that Harry could smell the special scent of Muggle laundry soap on her body, like sunshine and daisies. Her tousled hair, like drooping brown seaweed, brushed the corners of Harry's eyes, and he blinked involuntarily.

Then he started crying and couldn't stop it.

"What's the matter, what's the matter?" Hermione rummaged through her shoulder bag in a panic, took out her wand, and then stuffed a soft plaid handkerchief into Harry's hand, "Wipe it, Harry, don't be like this, after all What happened?"

She seemed to have guessed it, and said angrily: "Did the Dursleys bully you again? They are really shameless. To be honest, you should teach them a lesson. At least you can't treat you like a house elf anymore." Bullied."

No. Harry shook his head in pain, no, the Dursleys were finished, they all died during that miserable Christmas holiday.

Hermione grabbed Harry's handkerchief-clutching right hand and brought it up to his face, trying to wipe away the tears, but it didn't work, and Harry's arm was like a machine with rusty joints, and she couldn't take it away. He clutched the handkerchief tightly. So he had to wipe his tears with his hands.

"Don't touch me." Harry shrank back, and Hermione's face became embarrassed and overwhelmed by his actions, "I don't need you, please, don't touch me."

Don't shed your tears for a brutal murderer, he doesn't deserve an iota of sympathy. Nor let the clean hands be stained with the blood of sin, for she is still pure and clear, and knows nothing of the world.

The ensuing journey was even more torturous than ten Potions lessons. Speaking of Potions, Harry thought of Snape, the domineering professor who could no longer dictate to him. Because he died.

As she was dying, she tried to stand in front of Lily Evans.

Lips engulfed in flames opened and closed over and over again.

He is saying: Sorry.

Harry blinked lightly, and the tears he had stored up dripped down, and his blurred vision became slightly clearer. The lenses were still foggy with heat, so he took them off and wiped them with the hem of his robe, leaving Hermione's handkerchief untouched. Putting on the glasses again, he felt much better. He folded the handkerchief neatly, put it on the window edge, and pushed it slightly towards the opposite side.

Hermione, who was sitting opposite her, was reading a book with her head down. This little witch was always so serious, persistent, and smart.

But at this moment, she is clearly preoccupied, and her thoughts are not in place.

When Harry pushed the handkerchief over, she gave him a hard look and then just stared at him coldly.

The emotions in the two pairs of eyes with different colors are like the tides one after another.

After all, her heart softened, she closed the book forcefully, got up and sat beside him.

Harry flinched towards the window, shivering uncontrollably. Hermione chuckled, "Why are you as timid as a Bowtruckle?" Then she asked seriously and worriedly: "Harry, are you okay? Why are you sad? Dumbledore He's fine, he's just recuperating and the nurses at St Mungo's are saying he's stable."

"Dumbledore is in the hospital?" Harry said hoarsely. "What happened to him?" He already knew he was a villain through and through, but he was afraid that Dumbledore would die because of him.

"You can't even remember that? At Christmas, Dumbledore got food poisoning and fell into a coma."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, "Then who is the headmaster now? Professor McGonagall?"

"That's right."

"Tell me more about the changes in the school."

Whenever Hermione started, Harry always asked her to go on and say that he knew nothing about what had happened throughout the second year.

"After the end of the first year, Professor Quirrell resigned on his own initiative. In the second year, a professor named Lockhart came. He is a useless idiot... During this summer vacation, many prisoners in Azkaban escaped. Everyone It is said that the mysterious man is back, and the Ministry of Magic has sent dementors to patrol the school... This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is called Lupine. He treats you very well, but he doesn't get along well with Professor Snape, as if they I used to be a classmate..."

The little witch's lip pods are flaring like two soft pink slugs.

Harry thought, how strange, both he and Ron couldn't stand Hermione's chatter before, but now they wish she would never be quiet, just keep talking like this, let the clear voice be like a flock of birds, always in the boy's eyes The sky soars.

"...By the way, is that thing of yours still there?" Hermione's words were interrupted here, as if all sweet dreams would wake up.

"What?"

Hermione took out a small hourglass from the lining pocket of her wizard robe, "Time-Turner. I applied with you. We both took twelve courses in the third grade, and many courses overlapped together, so we don't need this thing." Stealing time, you can't learn at all."

Feeling his pocket sink, Harry took out an identical timepiece, gold and hanging from a slender chain.

"It's good that you didn't lose it. You must have experienced something very bad today. I'm afraid you lost even the time-turner." Hermione hid her hourglass, "You didn't forget How does this thing work? Well, I'll say it again. Spin the hourglass once and turn the clock back an hour. Simple, right?"

The words poured into Harry's cold, sad heart like hot molten silver, and he felt his blood boil.

"What did you say? This thing can turn back time?"

"Yes, I know what you're thinking, it just gives you more time to study and rest. The past cannot be changed."

No, you are wrong, the past can be changed.

Harry was convinced. It was a strange idea, but he was so convinced.

I'm debating whether to have Hermione with Harry or with Ron. Ron in the original book is a good boy, and they are a pretty good couple. In addition, Linde's emotional situation is also very problematic, a bit difficult to deal with.