The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

From the Hogsmeade platform to the west, the ominous Thestrals dragged the carriage across the path. At the end of the path, there were tall stone pillars on both sides of the gate, and on top of the pillars were winged wild boar statues.

After entering the gate and passing through a vast field, Hogwarts Castle was right in front of us. The towering towers looked even darker against the dark night sky. Occasionally, tiny lights could be seen flashing behind the windows. There were also mysterious ghosts coming out of the walls, chasing and playing around the towers, startling the birds perched on the roof tiles, chirping and flapping their wings, flying to the more distant and mysterious Forbidden Forest.

The various wizard portraits, moving armor, statues with hidden magic mechanisms, and stairs that are good at playing tricks on people constitute a magical part of the castle. Over thousands of years, they have brought countless laughter and screams, allowing the senior students of all previous years to reach an unspoken tacit understanding -

keep it secret from the freshmen and let them explore the castle on their own.

Standing in front of the monster statue on the third floor, I said the pre-set password to it, stepped into the stone door that opened with a bang, and took the spiral staircase all the way up. Behind the oak door on the eighth floor was the principal's office of Hogwarts, where the current principal Dumbledore worked.

Behind the oval desk in the office, an old wizard in a simple gray magic robe was looking through the information of the newly hired professors.

The broken nose bridge was more or less inconvenient. Dumbledore pushed the crescent-shaped glasses on his nose bridge. His blue eyes were sunken in his eye sockets. His silver-white hair and beard were neatly combed. He was a little thin, but considering his age, he might be considered strong among his peers. The outline between his eyebrows was clear, depicting the traces left by the years.

The phoenix with golden and red feathers stood on the wooden frame next to it, resting its head on an old pointed wizard hat, shaking its head and listening to the lyrics with strange singing.

The hat was worn out, the dark black fabric looked gray, with dirty patches on it. If you look closely, you can see dust mixed with spider webs and unknown paint-like mucus.

Dumbledore's ears moved, and he heard a wonderful lyric, and he hummed along without raising his head: "What other friends in this world are better than Slytherin and Gryffindor? How can such friendship be written off..."

Fawkes also liked this sentence, and flapped his wings happily to the beat.

At this time, a knock on the door suddenly sounded from outside, interrupting the chorus between the old wizard, the phoenix and the broken hat.

Dumbledore motioned the choir to be quiet, then turned around and said, "Come in."

The oak door of the office opened, and Professor McGonagall, dressed in a black wizard dress, hurried in with a serious expression: "Albus, Alastor just sent a letter, you must read it!"

"Alastor's letter..."

Dumbledore's crescent lens flashed with light, and he took the letter and quickly read it, "Sturges was attacked by the Imperius Curse, and Malfoy ordered him to sneak into the Department of Mysteries and seize the prophecy..."

"This happened last night. Sturgis said someone helped him escape control, but that person was wearing an invisibility cloak, and it was unclear who it was..." Professor McGonagall spoke hurriedly, with worry in her tone, "I asked Molly and the others, and they can be sure that this invisibility cloak is not Harry's. Albus, who do you think it could be?"

Using the invisibility cloak means that the person's magic level is not strong, and he has not even mastered the Disillusionment Charm. If such a person is discovered by Voldemort or the Death Eaters, he will only suffer from the Cruciatus Curse and die tragically.

"Don't lose your composure, Minerva. Sturgis has escaped safely, which means no one found them at the time."

Dumbledore's fingers tapped lightly on the parchment letter paper, and the imperceptible tapping sound echoed in the office. "No matter who this person is, he must be on our side. Wait for the news... He will give us the answer."

Professor McGonagall was still a little worried, but did not continue to ask: "Then... the prophecy?"

"Don't worry, the prophecy can only be touched by the candidates involved in the prophecy..."

Dumbledore laughed: "It seems that the news of McNeill's arrest made Tom impatient. He himself did not have the courage to break into the heavily guarded Ministry of Magic, so he could only let others try blindly."

"Don't let your guard down, he might set his sights on Harry." Professor McGonagall said calmly.

"Of course, but before that..." Dumbledore waved his hand gently, letting the dirty Sorting Hat fly over and land in front of her, "The children are here, let's enjoy the banquet tonight, Minerva, you go to greet the new students first, I'll change my clothes and come down."

"..."

Outside the window, a rough and dull voice slowly floated up: "First-year students come here... First-year students..."

The surface of the Black Lake was rippling, and the boat was docked on the rocks on the shore. The tall and burly half-blood giant got off the boat first, holding two unlucky guys who accidentally fell into the water under his armpits, followed by a bunch of little carrots, stepping on the grass with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

Not far away, the carriage left clear wheel marks on the dirt road, creaking and shaking on the road, and finally stopped by the stone steps leading to the lower hall with a clang.

An animal that looked like a horse stood between the shafts. It was shriveled and skinny, without any flesh. Its black fur was tightly attached to its skeleton, and every bone was clearly visible. The bulge between its shoulder bones gave birth to broad and tough wings, shaped like a bat, rugged and scary. Its head was very much like that of a fire dragon, with empty white eyes without pupils, shining brightly.

The Thestrals stood motionless, quietly in the increasingly dark night, looking weird and unlucky.

Loren walked out of the carriage, holding a bag of licorice magic wand in his hand, and turned his head to shout to the new prefect who came down from the next carriage: "Pay attention to your appearance, Neville. The freshmen who are assigned to our Gryffindor tonight will take you as an example! And you too!"

Hufflepuff prefect Hannah Abbott glared at him, pulled Neville up the steps, and merged into the flow of people in the aisle.

"Tsk... You're a prefect now, why are you still so shy?"

Loren was amused. He clearly saw Neville adjust his prefect badge after turning around, and even brushed his hair that was messed up by the night wind.

"..."

Hermione glanced at this person and looked away calmly.

She silently thought to herself, he's a fifth-year student, but his personality is still so bad.

Groups of little wizards dragged their heavy feet down the carriage and slowly moved towards the door. The hallway was illuminated red by the torches, and the footsteps of the students echoed.