days at Hogwarts

It was three o'clock in the afternoon and the game had lasted for four hours.

A group of students sat in the audience, enjoying the game and eating snacks.

The offensive and defensive situation of the two teams has eased a lot. It is difficult to maintain a long-term fierce attack. In addition, the players on both sides are a little exhausted due to hunger and thirst. The frequency and speed of attack have gradually weakened. The competition is not fierce. They only move to defend when the opponent organizes an attack. To be honest, the situation looks a bit boring.

The score did not widen the gap, and the outcome of the game depended on the seekers on both sides.

There were many empty seats in the stands. Some spectators could not bear it any longer and left early to go back to the auditorium for dinner. They have not returned yet.

The front row of the stands were the professors and staff of Hogwarts. Students could sneak away to eat, but the professors couldn't leave under the gaze of the children. The smiles on Professors Flitwick and Sprout's faces were a little forced. This year's final had nothing to do with them. They had not been very interested in it in the first place, and now they had been trapped for four hours and just wanted to end this torture as soon as possible.

Even the two vice-presidents temporarily stopped fighting, and there was more camaraderie in their conversation.

"These two teams are really tenacious..."

“I don’t know if it will end before the sun sets.”

"Draco's search direction half an hour ago was correct. If they had gathered on the right side of the field at that time, they should have forced out the Golden Snitch and ended the game."

"Harry's decision an hour ago was correct. If the two of them had kept their distance and covered a wider search area, the Golden Snitch would have been caught."

"Minerva, Severus, please continue at dinner. I just want to watch the game in peace now."

"I agree with Filius' proposal..."

Dumbledore was listening nearby, his eyes fixed on the two people fighting on the court, with a faint smile in the corners of his eyes. Only a very few people realized that this was also the last Quietus game he would watch at Hogwarts.

Luckily, this match was special enough that it should remain in the memory for many years.

The professors quieted down and continued to watch the game on the court.

Harry clenched the broom handle with both hands, his cheeks pale. Judging from the skills and experience of the Seeker, he thought that his current strength was comparable to Krum in the Goblet of Fire. He was proficient in all tactical means and had a strong character. Moreover, Gryffindor was leading in points, so he felt less pressure. Draco next to him was under greater pressure. He had been suspended for the past two years and lacked practice. Unexpectedly, with a few months of training and a strong will to not admit defeat, he bit Harry tightly, like a poisonous snake tightly wrapped around the Slytherin flag.

The scene of the game and fight between the two sides is thrilling.

All kinds of emergency stops and turns, all kinds of dives and sprints, all kinds of close-to-the-ground lifts, every acceleration and flip, every dodge and turn, can arouse cheers from the stands. Even if you don't know much about Quebec, you can still see the splendor of the flying skills.

In the end, Harry caught the Golden Snitch by half a body length.

Gryffindor continued its winning streak.

The reaction of the audience in the stands was extremely intense. The cheers of Gryffindor resounded throughout the entire stadium. The Slytherin students were silent. Some of them walked down the stands in frustration, tightly clutching the green snake flag, and their steps were extremely heavy.

This was originally expected. The four-hour stalemate gave them hope. Now that hope is shattered, this gap is even more difficult to accept.

Draco's body was exhausted, even a little numb. Looking at the enemy team celebrating enthusiastically, his eyes revealed a complicated look. Some things seemed to be like this. Obviously, they had tried their best and victory was within reach, but in the end they still failed.

This feeling of powerlessness is even more unbearable than physical pain.

"Players from both sides shake hands!"

Madam Hooch's whistle interrupted his thoughts.

Draco pursed his lips, shook his head casually, and followed the end of the line to shake hands.

"..."

Gryffindor students poured into the stadium. Colin Creevey held up a camera bigger than his head, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Harry stood in the middle with the trophy in his hand. The seventh years surrounded him, and then moved to the side. Yes, yes..."

Loren and Hermione also got a shot, in the right corner of the second row.

"One, two, three - cheese!"

The scene is frozen.

……

The sun sets in the west, and the Black Lake sparkles.

The noisy cheers from the Quidditch field in the distance had not yet stopped. Gryffindor was delighted with winning the final, and Slytherin recovered after a period of loss. All the players who were about to graduate stayed on the field, stroking their brooms, wandering around the scoring circle, listening to the sound of the bats hitting each other, trying to engrave these things in their minds and deepen their memories of the people and things they had experienced on the field in the past few years.

It’s actually not as sad as I imagined.

There were other students wandering around the shore of Black Lake. They were just playing, enjoying this sunny weekend, and leisurely touring Black Lake.

There is a group of reefs on the right side of the Black Lake. The bushes on the shore are deep, the beech tree crowns are lush, and there are more mosquitoes than in other places. It is particularly mortal, so students don’t like to play here, especially after the sun sets. There are also a few people who think the scenery here is beautiful.

For example, an old principal in a gray and white robe.

The review of the financial statements was assigned to Severus, and the report speech to the school board was entrusted to Minerva. There were no trivial matters to worry about, and no dark wizards to worry about. The four-hour Quidditch final was particularly exciting, and the sunset on the shore was particularly charming. Dumbledore felt that both were memories worth remembering.

He waved his sleeves to drive away mosquitoes with great patience and a calm and gentle expression.

There was the sound of a bird flapping its wings overhead. Looking up, I saw a dark brown owl landing in the window of the principal's office.

It was a letter from Mr. Kohaug in New York. After the Christmas holidays, he had never stopped inquiring about Loren, and Miss Jorkins also started writing to ask some strange questions on the weekend not long ago.

They wanted to know something in a secretive way, but they didn't dare to ask honestly and directly.

Dumbledore's blue eyes were reflecting the sunset, gleaming slightly.

He was not sure about many things before and could only piece together vague outlines. He did not know the full picture of the grand blueprint, but at least he was willing to believe in his students.

The setting sun sank into the ground, and the ripples on the lake dimmed.

Dumbledore stood on the rocky shore. A hundred years ago when he was still studying at Hogwarts, the sunset here was the same as it is now, except that the bushes then were not as lush as they are now. The evening breeze blew from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, bringing a slight chill. The air gradually became moist, and the night fog gradually spread.

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound of branches swaying from behind.

Dumbledore turned and looked.

A familiar figure was slowly approaching, pushing aside the branches and weeds. He was wearing the standard robes of Gryffindor College, had black hair and black eyes, and a faint smile on his face.

"Principal, you are here."

"It sounds like trouble is coming."

"How can a professor find it troublesome to help students?" Loren said with a smile.

I was just busy taking photos with them, and only when the sun went down did I remember that I had something important to discuss with the principal. Fortunately, the principal's magic power was as bright as a little sun, and this place was the brightest after the sun went down.

"..."

Dumbledore smiled helplessly. He thought of the letters from Miss Jorkins and Mr. Colehaug, and pieced together part of the plan through the previous clues. It was complicated and huge, and was definitely more troublesome than dealing with financial statements.

"Tell me about it."

"The story of the cause and effect is a bit long. It starts with the Book of Abraham." Loren said as briefly as possible, "Many items and clues left by legendary wizards gathered in my hands, and gradually pieced together a road to the promised land of magic, that is, the new space-shifting device..."

"So that's it..."

Having accumulated valuable wealth over a hundred years, the old wizard was proficient in alchemy and quickly understood the concepts he described.

"What are the chances of success?"

"I do not know either."

Loren shrugged and sighed, "The new space device is stuck in the last step of mass production. To activate the teleportation, we need to precisely control the energy output of the magic stone. The transmission of a single device can still be controlled by a senior wizard, but this distance of transmission requires thousands of devices to form a matrix to ensure that the output is controlled at the same time and frequency, without any error... I really can't think of any solution, so I can only come to you for help."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered as he thought seriously.

Thousands of devices were connected and communicated with each other, and were uniformly regulated by the core where the magic stone was located. This mode of operation reminded him of a spring, where all of them were connected to the same water source and linked together by incredible magic, and the water flow was always uniform.

The answer quickly came to my mind.

"So that's it..."

Magic is always so wonderful. Even though we have explored its secrets in depth over the past hundred years, even to the point of exploring the boundary between life and death, we are still amazed by its wonder, as if there really is a consciousness beyond all living things that has quietly arranged everything.

Dumbledore withdrew his thoughts and looked at Loren who was kicking stones into the lake, with a gentle smile on his face: "Loren, do you remember the oath we made?"

"You mean..."

Loren raised his right hand and his eyes fell on the tip of his index finger. As if sensing his gaze, golden flame patterns floated under the fingerprint. It was a magic contract.

Dumbledore nodded and raised his right hand, his fingertips gleaming with the same light.

……

The castle was especially quiet at dusk.

He returned to the castle foyer and found the girl waiting for him at the foot of the marble staircase.

The sun had just set and the moon had not yet risen, leaving only the afterglow of the sunset that had not completely dissipated. Under the dim sky, the girl stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking down at the wild flowers at her feet. There were about three or two of them, tender yellow in color, and only the size of a fingernail.

The evening breeze blew by, and the girl's hair on her forehead swayed slightly, adding a bit of gentleness to her beautiful figure.

Hearing the footsteps approaching, the girl turned her head and looked over here. Her skin was white and delicate, more tender than flower petals. Suddenly facing this beautiful face, my heart felt like being hit.

"Hermione."

Loren quickened his pace and ran closer, leaned over to kiss her cheek, then smiled and put his arms around her shoulders.

Hermione's expression was calm. She just reached out and wiped the saliva off her face. Her tone was also calm: "Does Principal Dumbledore have any solution?"

"Let's go find the Fountain of Good Luck on our graduation trip."

"??"

When we walked into the castle, it was dinner time.

Perhaps to make up for the lunch that was delayed by Quidditch, today's dinner is particularly sumptuous. Before entering the auditorium, I can already smell the rich aroma, making my stomach growl.

Normally, the two of them would take different dishes and exchange them together, but now Hermione couldn't resist her curiosity, so she followed him closely with her plate, taking whatever he took.

"What's the matter with the Fountain of Good Luck?"

"Give me a piece of the grilled veal."

Hermione didn't care about dinner at all. She let him put a whole steak on the plate and asked persistently, "Is it the Fountain of Good Luck in The Tales of Beedle the Bard? Like the jumping pot?"

"Yes, it's the Fountain of Good Luck..." Loren was digging mashed potatoes and roasted ground beef, slowly putting a spoonful of it on Hermione's plate. "I once made a promise with Dumbledore that as long as I could control the use of Legilimency, he would tell me the news about the Fountain of Good Luck."

"Has the contract been concluded?"

"The contract was just an excuse. At that time, Dumbledore was obsessed with the role of life mentor. Teaching Harry was not enough. He was worried that I might be affected by too much exposure to Legilimency, a dark magic that touches the depths of my heart. So he proposed to use the Fountain of Luck to make a contract, just like coaxing a child."

"You still agreed then."

"I'm trying to coax the old man. If I don't agree, he'll worry about this and that all day long, and I'm worried that he'll harass me."

"..."

"Have a piece of red wine stewed chicken."

"Is the Fountain of Good Luck related to the new space-shifting device?"

"Dumbledore believes that the Fountain of Good Luck can solve the current dilemma, stabilize the output of the Philosopher's Stone, prevent the various devices from interfering with each other, and successfully complete large-scale ultra-long-distance space movement."

"The last problem of mass production of the new space-shifting device has been solved..." Hermione murmured in a low voice, her expression a little dazed, "So what does the professor think of your plan? Did he offer any comments or suggestions?"

"No."

"Nothing at all?"

"Otherwise, Dumbledore has been slacking off all day and is already in retirement..."

Loren picked up a piece of black blood sausage with apple puree, his eyes flickering. He glanced at Hermione's expression secretly. She was still distracted.

He had tasted this thing once before and the taste was hard to describe. He thought it was dark cuisine and stayed away from it ever since. Now he is about to graduate and wants to try it again, but he is worried that he won't be able to finish it.

After a moment's hesitation, he put the black blood sausage on Hermione's plate.

"If Voldemort's affairs hadn't tied him to school, he might have retired and traveled around the world long ago. He had expressed similar ideas before, believing that each generation of wizards has its own mission, and each era has its own problems that wizards of that era need to solve. His historical mission has been completed."

"..."

Just as they were walking back to their seats, Hermione stopped and took his plate: "There's cream of mushroom soup over there, help me get one, I'll wait for you at my seat."

"Ok."

Loren got the mushroom soup and returned to his seat. He stared at the black blood sausage on the plate in front of him and fell silent.

"emmm..."

The innocent and lovely little witch she once was can never go back.