Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 133 Fun Camping

Early morning, campsite on the outskirts of Dean Forest.

The air was damp and cool, and the forest was so quiet that you could hear the clear chirping of birds.

Loren woke up.

He felt itchy on his face, neck, and around his mouth.

When he woke up, he found that strands of fine, brown curly hair were scattered all over his face, and several strands were on his face, which made him feel itchy.

Hermione was sleeping soundly, facing him. Her long eyelashes curled up, making her look very delicate. Her thick hair was everywhere, on Hermione's face and on his face as well.

Loren carefully parted the hair on her face, without disturbing Hermione. She looked like a delicate Barbie doll, or a Snow White waiting to be awakened.

Loren groped his way out of the soft, warm sleeping bag, stretched, and stretched his slightly weak muscles.

Last night they all slept in one tent. The upgraded tent was big enough to fit four people, two adults and two children, in their sleeping bags. Monica and Wendell insisted on keeping the two children inside, so Loren and Hermione's sleeping bags were next to each other.

He didn't know when Hermione fell asleep last night, but the last time he opened his eyes, he saw Hermione's eyelashes fluttering and her face, red from the campfire, still not calmed down.

Loren dressed and crawled out of the tent to look outside.

Wendell and Monica sat around the fire, adding a little more firewood to make a small flame. They set up a makeshift stand over the fire, hanging a large tin can with its lid off.

Loren took a deep breath of fresh air, walked over, and greeted, "Good morning."

"Good morning—ah~" Wendell said, yawning as if he hadn't had enough sleep.

He casually handed over a set of disposable toothpaste and toothbrush, saying, "Make do with this; after all, we're in the forest."

Monica's hair was a little messy, but it made her look more approachable. She gave Loren a gentle smile and said, "Just wash up with some drinking water, and then we can have breakfast."

Loren then noticed a soup, or rather, a porridge, simmering inside the tin can. Water had been added to the luncheon meat can, and then hard bread was cooked inside, giving it a meaty aroma combined with the sweet scent of malt.

The aroma invigorated Loren, who replied cheerfully, "It smells wonderful; it must taste delicious."

He chose a very tall tree and let it taste the fresh breath toothpaste.

Five minutes later, Loren, Monica, and Wendell sat around the fire, spoons in one hand and small cans in the other, and began to savor this British version of convenient dumpling soup.

Loren scooped up a spoonful, blew on it to cool it down, put it in his mouth, and swallowed it with a smacking sound.

It wasn't exactly disgusting, but it certainly wasn't delicious. The luncheon meat had a strange, oily taste that seeped into the bread through the broth, making you not want to take a second bite after just one.

He didn't feel particularly hungry, so he slowed his eating and asked, "Shouldn't we wake Hermione?"

Wendell ate heartily. "Let her sleep a little longer. I heard her tossing and turning late last night. She must be having trouble adjusting to the new tent."

Monica ate silently with a spoon, her movements slow but earnest.

She swallowed another mouthful, feeling a bit of difficulty swallowing. She looked up at the pot and saw that there was still half left.

Monica paused for a moment, then said, "Let's save some for her, and she can have breakfast when she wakes up."

Loren looked away, pretending not to see Monica's disgusted expression.

There were two people on the field who didn't like this food, but I won't say who they were.

Monica then asked Wendell, "When will the hotel deliveries arrive?"

"When I called just now, they said it would be quick." Wendell tilted his head back, poured the remaining soup from the small can into his mouth, swallowed it in one gulp, and let out a satisfied sigh.

Monica discreetly ladled out another box for him with a spoon.

Wendell enjoyed his meal very much.

Ten minutes later.

Wendell put the small canned food container aside, let out a burp, and said, "I can't eat anymore, I really can't eat anymore."

Monica peeked at the large canned food boxes on the shelf, which were being used as pots, and only a shallow layer remained inside.

She nodded in satisfaction. "The rest is up to Hermione."

"Mother?"

Hermione's voice came from behind. Her hair was messy, and she was rubbing her eyes with her small, white fists. "Daddy, Loren, good morning."

Wendell laughed heartily. "Go brush your teeth and have breakfast."

As he spoke, a beeping electronic sound came from Wendell's pocket. He reached in and turned off the notification sound. "Ha, looks like the stuff has arrived. I'll go get the fresh meat. We can have barbecue for lunch."

He stood up, waved to Hermione, and ran towards where they had parked.

When Hermione finished washing up and sat down, Monica had already served her a bowl of canned meat broth made from crusty bread.

Hermione sat on a small rock, put a spoon in her mouth and took a bite, then her movements slowed down noticeably and her smile froze.

Monica comforted him, "Your dad ate most of the pot, and we only left you this little bit. You can't skip breakfast, right?"

Hermione looked miserable, her brows drooping, as she struggled to eat, spoonful by spoonful.

The hotel's camping service is very thoughtful. If you want to enjoy nature and camp in an authentic way, they will give you a specially made communication phone to ensure that you can send out a distress call in case of danger, and then they can completely leave you alone.

If you just want to experience it, there are well-equipped camping areas around the hotel where you can call a staff member to help you start a fire and grill meat anytime. At night, you can walk a few steps back to the hotel to stay in a comfortable room.

Of course, there are also families like the Grangers, who camp but not completely in the wild, and whose hotels can deliver all sorts of things directly to them.

They truly put into practice the saying, "The customer is God."

Wendell called early in the morning to order barbecue equipment, and the hotel quickly packed and delivered the equipment and ingredients. All that was left for the customer to do was to enjoy the fun of the work.

After Wendell brought back the fresh meat, the barbecue sauce, and a makeshift grill, he and Monica began cutting the meat.

Loren and Hermione could only watch helplessly from the sidelines.

Loren watched for a while, then asked, "Do you need any help?"

Wendell cut a large piece of beef into slices to make it easier to grill.

He seemed to enjoy the work, casually remarking, "Children shouldn't handle knives; it's dangerous."

Loren laughed and said, "No need for a knife, we can cut it up quickly with magic."

Hermione nodded in agreement; she had never used a cutting charm to cut food before and was very interested in it.

Although Wendell was very interested in witnessing magic, he thought for a moment and shook his head in refusal, saying, "Forget it, camping is about enjoying the fun of doing things yourself. Otherwise, the hotel kitchen would have already chopped it up, and if you spend more money, you could even have the chef grill the meat in the wild, but that wouldn't be the point."

Monica was marinating the meat Wendell had cut with sauce. She hadn't styled her hair that morning; it was short enough to be simply tied up. She glanced at Hermione's hair, a messy, brown, curly frizz.

The girl felt very relaxed when she was with her family and didn't care much about the appearance of her hair in front of them, which made her feel more at ease.

But as a mother, she obviously couldn't think that way. She said, "Hermione, fix your hair and mind your appearance."

"Oh." Hermione pouted.

She tried to tie her hair up simply like her mother, but her hair was too fluffy and curly. Without a mirror, she couldn't tie it neatly by feeling, and it ended up looking even messier.

Monica sighed, wondering what to do about her daughter's somewhat unpleasant behavior since she came back from her vacation.

Hermione, having tidied her hair, shook her head and said cheerfully, "I saw a lake marked on the map. Can we go play there?"

Upon hearing about the lake, Loren's spirits lifted and his eyes lit up.

Where there is water, there are fish; where there are fish, there is...

"Children shouldn't play in the water," Wendell refused decisively.

Loren clapped his hands. "Don't worry, we're wizards. How could wizards drown!"

"This—" Wendell hesitated.

Hermione knew who was in charge here, and she pleaded with Monica, "Mom, please, we won't go into the water."

Monica glanced at Hermione's messy braids and waved her hand dismissively. "Go on, go on."

Loren grabbed Hermione and ran towards the lake. Before leaving, he took advantage of Monica's inattention and stole a box of her marinated beef, which was mixed with onions and parsley.

The two gradually disappeared from the Grangers' sight.

Hermione ran after you for a while, then slowed down and grumbled, "I didn't call you out just now. How come wizards aren't afraid of drowning? We haven't even learned the Bubble Head Charm yet."

Loren was now only thinking about fish. He dragged Hermione's arm and walked forward. "That's nothing. Today I'm going to teach you a sport that's as fun as magic."

Hermione's bright eyes darted around as Loren pulled her toward the river.

Loren skillfully used his shapeshifting magic to conjure a fishing rod, a small stool, and a plastic bucket.

Hang an onion on a fishing hook, cast the line, sit on a small stool, and today will be a day full of catches.

Hermione watched Loren's practiced movements, a few veins bulging on her forehead, and said irritably, "This is the sport you said is more interesting than magic? Also, when did you steal a box of beef?"

Loren wore a profound and serious expression. "You're too young. You don't understand the joy of fishing. As for beef, a wise fisherman makes use of all the conditions around him."

His expression was so serious and earnest that Hermione almost believed him.

She tried to imitate Loren by using Transfiguration to shrink a stool and a plastic bucket, but she ran into trouble when she got to the fishing rod.

The use of Transfiguration requires a clear understanding of the target object. Hermione did not have a clear idea of ​​the shape and structure of the fishing rod, so the Transfiguration was unsuccessful.

Loren was happy to help the novice; he waved his wand and conjured a brand new fishing rod from a stone.

He solemnly handed the fishing rod to Hermione, saying, "It's a 3.6-meter rod with a versatile sleeve hook, perfect for beginners."

Hermione was shocked: "You never have this attitude when you're studying or taking exams!"

Loren remained very serious and carefully explained the precautions for fishing: how to cast the hook, where to put the bait, the effects of the sun and temperature on fishing, and how to observe aquatic plants and their movements.

Hermione had never seen Loren so serious. If Hogwarts offered a fishing course, he would definitely be the most diligent one.

With mixed feelings, Hermione, under Loren's guidance, cast her line for the first time.

The fish in this small lake weren't easy to catch. I didn't bait the area, and the bait I used was very random. Loren cast his line four times, but either the bait was eaten but no fish came out, or the fish were tiny, less than two fingers wide. It was all so uninteresting.

However, being able to catch fish is still a very happy thing.

Loren happily put the small whitebait into the bucket, and also added some bait to make the fish swim around more happily.

Loren pointed at the fish and showed it off to Hermione, "Look how happily it's wagging its tail."

Hermione glanced at the few small fish in the bucket, struggling and occasionally splashing water as they thrashed their tails in the narrow wooden tub. Then she looked at Loren's serious smile and wasn't sure if he really thought so or if he was joking.

She ultimately ignored Loren.

Turning around, her float moved. Hermione lifted the hook, and the onion on the hook was gone, but there was no fish; only a piece of seaweed was pulled from the hook.

Hermione turned to Loren and asked, "Why did it get caught on the seaweed?"

"That's normal," Loren waved his hand. "You always catch all sorts of things when you're fishing, just like on Taobao."

He didn't cite examples like snakes, severed limbs, or the carcasses of various animals, for fear of scaring away Hermione, the fishing novice.

The fisherman possesses a mysterious power; he can catch anything except fish.

Hermione looked at the fishing hook, then at the spot where she had cast it. The lake water was very clear, and there were clearly no water plants underneath.

But Hermione didn't take it to heart; she baited the hook again and cast it once more.

She wasn't expecting anything in return. She went to the lakeside to wash her hands and loosened her hair, which was tied up in a knot, and then tidied it up in front of the lake.

I don't know how much time has passed.

During this time, Loren caught a few fish, but they were all small whitebait and the like, so it wasn't a good catch.

But Loren seemed very happy. Sure enough, the fish from out of town in the Black Lake of Hogwarts were too despicable. Good fish are those that willingly take the bait even when I offer them bait.

Hermione, on the other hand, experienced this inefficient way of feeding fish multiple times.

She only saw it as a novel experience and was not emotionally affected by the gains.

Just like that, the morning breeze in the forest blew, and I breathed in the fresh air, which was full of dew and the scent of grass. I watched Loren throw a fish the size of a finger into the bucket every now and then, and listened to his serious nonsense.

Hermione thought the camping experience was pretty good.

"Hermione! Loren!" Wendell's voice came from behind.

The two turned around and saw him swaying as he jogged toward them.

Wendell stopped beside the two men and asked in surprise, "Where did you get your fishing rods?"

"Yes, you are wizards!" He answered before the two could reply, his tone somewhat excited.

For Wendell, a middle-class dentist with a wife and daughter, fishing is a familiar form of leisure.

Patients at the dental clinic often talk about their fishing experiences; a weekend fishing party on the Thames in a small sailboat is a recreational activity that many people yearn for.

Friends who know him well will invite Wendell to join them, but Wendell hasn't tried yet.

(End of this chapter)