The Return to Hogwarts

Lennie gritted his teeth in hatred. The shapeshifting spell he cast on himself could only be broken by someone, unlike the Animagus who could actively dispel their forms.

Lying on the cold floor, Remus's eyes were bloodshot. He could feel as if millions of tiny insect eggs were hatching inside his body, simultaneously absorbing his dwindling magical energy and multiplying rapidly. This pain blurred his consciousness and made him incredibly irritable.

Fortunately, the residual effects of the wolfsbane potion he had drunk earlier were still working in his body, helping Remus maintain a certain degree of rationality; otherwise, he probably would have already gone berserk.

Time passed indefinitely. Remus, who had been struggling with his bloodlust with a hazy rationality, suddenly felt something wet on his lips. He instinctively sucked on it, and the cool liquid that entered his mouth gradually brought him back to his senses.

The moist and hard substance disappeared, but soon it reappeared on his lips. Remus, who had already tasted that it was wolfsbane, did not hesitate and began to drink it again.

After this happened several times, the blurriness in his vision cleared up, and Remus finally saw who was feeding him the medicine.

It was that cat named Lennie—it had taken a quill pen from the pen holder on Amosta's desk and was using the quill to draw up the medicine and feed it to itself!

"Ahem-- You're really clever, little one!"

Remus, choked by the medicine, coughed violently twice and said incredulously,

"I've never seen a cat as quick-witted as you, Lenny—"

click-

After a crisp metallic clang, Amosta, who had rushed back from the auditorium after class with some food, pushed open the door and entered. In just three seconds, he understood everything that had happened in the room.

"Oh, stop yelling—"

Amosta strode in, put Remus back in bed, and while feeding him his medicine, she grumbled angrily at Lennie, who was on the floor like a cat in heat.

"This wasn't my fault--"

"I must have looked really pathetic just now—"

About ten minutes later, Remus finally caught his breath and said to Amosta with a wry smile.

Everyone has times when they are down on their luck and in a sorry state.

Amosta chewed on the grilled eel and said nonchalantly.

The werewolf's situation could not be described with words like "miserable" or "tragic." Remus pursed his lips and suddenly reached out to touch Lennie's head. This time, Lennie only hesitated and took a half step back, but did not dodge. This made Remus feel extremely gratified.

"Thanks to you today, little guy, otherwise I might have gotten into trouble."

Remus stared into Lennie's gray eyes as he spoke, but he noticed that Lennie seemed to be avoiding his gaze the whole time.

"Would you like to adopt it, Remus?"

Amosta watched with great interest as the wolf and cat exchanged affections, then suddenly spoke.

Lenny tensed up instantly, his eyes fixed on the ground, neither looking at Remus nor glaring angrily at Amosta.

"If you're willing to part with it, Amosta—"

Remus, who was hesitating about how to make his request, immediately broke into a smile.

"I really hope to make friends with this smart little guy."

Chapter 250 Who sent it?

On Christmas morning, Harry was awakened by the white light reflected from the snow into his dormitory. He struggled to sit up, put on his glasses, and it took him a while to adjust to the dim light in the dormitory.

The rest of the roommates had left the school one after another yesterday afternoon. Now, apart from Harry himself, the only other person in the dormitory is Ron, who is squatting on the floor and enthusiastically unpacking a small pile of packages at the foot of the bed.

"Don't just stand there, Harry—"

Hearing the sound of his breath, Ron turned around and waved eagerly to Harry.

"This is a once-a-year opportunity, come and see how your harvest is this year!"

"I'm coming—"

Harry grunted, slowly pulled back the covers, fastened the loose buttons on his dressing gown collar, and slipped on his slippers as he walked over.

Most of these gift packages were left by their classmates in Gryffindor. Every December, Harry and Ron would try their best to prepare Christmas gifts for their friends in the house. Most of them were not too expensive. Stationery from Literati House, candy from Bee Duke, prank products from Zonco's Joke Shop, or trinkets from Devs Bans Magical Supplies were the mainstream choices for students to exchange Christmas gifts.

This year was no exception. Harry tore open several packages, and most of the contents were the same. Some of the gifts even looked very familiar to Harry, because he had asked the Weasley brothers to buy them for him from Hogsmeade.

Of course, as always, Mrs. Weasley's gift was present.

A scarlet sweater with a Gryffindor lion pattern woven into the front, along with a dozen homemade round tarts, some Christmas pastries, and a box of nut brittle.

"Mom gave me another sweater. And it's dark red again."

Ron was also holding an almost identical sweater, muttering to himself. He listlessly tossed the sweater onto the bed and continued searching through Mrs. Weasley's package. A few seconds later, Ron picked up another sweater, a bright green one, looking puzzled.

"Big yarn sale? Why did Mom send me two items this year?"

Harry's sweater from his first year was emerald green. Hearing Ron's muttering, he looked up, blinked, and then laughed.

“I guess Mrs. Weasley might have sent you Percy’s gift, Ron. We can’t fit into that size.”

"Maybe she just wanted to lighten Errol's burden a bit. Well, at least Errol would be happier to see one less package."

Ron said, unfolding the sweater he was holding so that the front was facing him. When he saw the design drawn on the chest, Ron's eyes widened in surprise.

"Is the snake mother confused? Oh, wait, I understand—"

When Ron said that, Harry also understood what was going on.

"Did Mrs. Weasley also prepare one for Professor Blaine?"

"Obviously!"

Ron stared at the slightly distorted snake on the sweater, a strange smile on his face. "It's obvious that Mom isn't very good at embroidering anything other than lions. Hmm, I hope Professor Blaine won't laugh his head off when he sees it."

Ron was just joking; he knew, of course, that Professor Blaine wasn't such an unfriendly wizard.

"But why doesn't Mrs. Weasley send it directly to Professor Blaine?"

Harry still found it strange, but then a note stuck inside the sweater answered his question.

"Mom was afraid it would be too presumptuous to send it directly to Professor Blaine, and besides, she wanted us to cultivate a good relationship with him, so she had us deliver it there—"

Ron rolled his eyes speechlessly and read the words on the note.

"This is like something Mrs. Weasley would do—"

Harry chuckled, turned around, squatted down, and started rummaging through his bag again.

At the very bottom of a pile of gifts, a long, narrow package caught the attention of both Harry and Ron; it didn't look like a gift exchanged between young wizards.

"what is that?"

Ron tossed Professor Blaine's sweater onto the bed, stepped over the open boxes scattered on the floor, and came to Harry's side.

Merry Christmas, Harry and Ron!

During the Christmas holidays, the spells designed to prevent men and women from visiting each other in the dormitory towers would temporarily fail. Hermione, who had already dealt with her Christmas presents, walked in wearing a dressing gown. Even on this grand holiday, her hair was still messy and hanging over her shoulders.

"Oh, why is nobody paying attention to me?"

Seeing that the two little boys squatting in front of the bed didn't respond to her greeting, Hermione sniffed and walked over, saying unhappily.

When her gaze swept over Harry's head and landed on the broom he was holding, she gasped.

"I can't believe it."

Staring blankly at the glittering, exquisite flying broom in Harry's hand, Ron said in a hoarse voice.

A fire crossbow bolt!

It was exactly the same flying broomstick that Harry dreamed of every day in Diagon Alley. Back then, he even did some hard labor for Professor Blaine for a while in order to get it.

"Even among girls, many people have talked about it!"

The two boys' frozen faces gradually softened into expressions of joy, but Hermione's delicate brows furrowed. "This broom is worth at least several hundred Galleons. Who gave it to you, Harry?"

"Of course, Hermione!"

Ron, panting, circled the fire bolt, admiring the gleaming broom handle.

There's only one person I can think of!

“You mean Professor Blaine?” Harry realized immediately.

Indeed, given the current situation, it can only be Professor Blaine.

Professor Dumbledore couldn't possibly do that. He's the headmaster, and even if he favors Harry, he wouldn't spend that much money to buy Harry a world-class broom. If the junior wizards from the other three houses found out about this, they would probably cause a huge uproar.

Professor McGonagall is unlikely to be the one to give Harry a Nimbus 2000, since she already gave him one.

At Hogwarts, Professor Blaine is probably the only faculty member who has the financial means and a good relationship with Harry who would do something like this.

"What's there to think about, Hermione?"

Noticing that Hermione's brow was still closed, Ron suppressed his excitement and said...

"Remember, Hermione? After solving the Chamber of Secrets, Professor Blaine gave me a commemorative coin and a book. He didn't give Harry anything. He said he would give Harry a gift, but only in the future!"

"You mean!"

Hermione wasn't happy with Ron's irresponsible remarks. Her face darkened, and she bit her lip as she spoke.

"You mean, Professor Blaine foresaw the appearance of a famous flying broomstick that wouldn't be available for sale for several months, Ron?"

"So what's your opinion, Hermione?" Ron glanced at Hermione sideways.