Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 3 The Strange Old Man and Two Books

Winter has come again, and Loren Morgan is now 10 years old.

The snow covered the hillsides, tree branches, and thatched roofs, creating a vast expanse of white.

Pete stopped herding sheep, and everyone stocked up on food for the winter and hay for the sheep. Residents at the foot of the mountain stayed at home making handicrafts to exchange for money in the city and buy some daily necessities.

When the sun came out, Mr. Bates wouldn't let Loren go up the mountain, saying it would damage his eyes. Loren would sometimes catch animals in the woods and search for plants to eat in winter, but most of the time he had to go to school.

Mr. Bates had prepared some old textbooks and a dictionary in advance, which Loren flipped through when he had nothing to do. He helped the teacher and people in the church copy some documents and letters, and quickly mastered the contents. Mr. Bates said that he would be a man of great achievement.

The school was in a small town at the foot of the mountain. Every morning, Mr. Bates would ride his sled with Loren down the mountain, and in the evening he would carry him back on his back. That's how the days went by.

On Christmas Eve, a traveling band arrived in town, and Loren and Pete made plans to go see their show together.

Red ribbons and colorful lights were hung on the trees lining the road, and festive music played in the shops. Restaurants and bars were packed with people, and the warm yellow lights made everyone feel cozy.

Pete and Loren were wearing oversized sweaters and sheepskin coats, each with a gray and white striped scarf.

Loren stood with his hands in his pockets, watching Pete devour the roasted sweet potato he'd bought from a street vendor.

"This band is really weird. It's called the Norn Three Goddesses, but it's all male musicians." Loren thought for a moment. There probably weren't 23 genders in Britain in the 80s.

"Why do you care about all this? As long as we have fun, that's all that matters." Pete didn't care at all.

"The performance is still a while away. There's a small market over there. Want to go check it out?" Loren was very interested; he had saved up some pocket money.

"Go ahead and wander around. I'd rather sit here inside than stand in this cold wind again," Pete shook his head.

Loren went to the market and asked Pete to save him a spot. The small market was actually a bunch of vendors who set up stalls in the alley behind the performance hall, taking advantage of the rare bustling time in the town to sell small items.

Woolen socks, gloves, Easter eggs, Russian nesting dolls—all sorts of strange and unusual items were there. Loren even saw the Chinese Nine Linked Rings. But he was just browsing, not interested in buying anything; he was simply curious.

As Loren approached the street corner, he saw a thin, white-haired old man dressed in a neat suit sitting there, slowly sipping a steaming cup of coffee.

In front of the old man was a blanket made of some kind of animal fur, with two large books on it. Passersby and street vendors seemed oblivious to the man. Loren, feeling curious, walked over.

"Hello, sir. May I take a look at these two books?" Loren greeted him.

Hearing the child's innocent voice, the old man looked up, seemingly surprised by the child's question.

Loren looked into the old man's sunken eyes. He couldn't describe the color of the eyes in front of him, but he felt that an ancient and mysterious feeling was almost seeping out of the eyes.

"Of course, this is what I'm selling." The old man smiled nonchalantly.

Loren crouched down and reached out to flip through the two books. One was an English book called "A Comprehensive Explanation of Hieroglyphics." It was thicker than a dictionary, looked like it had been handwritten, with very neat handwriting, and the material seemed to be parchment.

The other book had no title. When Loren touched it, his mind suddenly went blank. He turned to the title page, and the instant his eyes met it, he felt as if he were being sucked into the book. This feeling flashed by and then disappeared, as if it were just an illusion.

The title page says it was written by a man named Abraham, but Loren couldn't understand the rest of the text.

There were some illustrations after that, the material of which felt like soft tree bark, very thin, not many pages, and they were held together with copper rings.

The two books seem to contain some kind of mystical content.

"How much?" Loren planned to buy it for entertainment.

"Oh, are you really planning to buy it?" The old man in front of me looked very happy.

"Of course, if the price is right." Loren was afraid the other party would take the opportunity to raise the price.

"Excuse my bluntness, but I'd like to ask if you do some kind of copying work?" The old man was quite interested, seemingly more concerned with the person in front of him than with selling books.

Loren didn't quite understand what he meant, but he answered truthfully anyway: "Yes, I will help the teacher and the people at the church copy some documents and letters."

"Hahaha, great! This is so funny!" The old man burst out laughing.

He was overjoyed when he first received the book. However, when the text on the back of the title page was translated, it read, "Anyone who reads this book, except the high priest and the scribes, will be cursed."

Before sending out this copy of the Book of Abraham, he casually asked Loren if he was engaged in any kind of copying work, and the result was as he expected.

The old man looked at the child in front of him as if he were seeing himself hundreds of years ago.

Seeing that Loren looked a little startled, he added, "Sorry, I just remembered something from a long time ago."

The old man didn't say anything more, but instead wrapped the two books in a blanket and handed them to Loren.

"Then I'll take your 13 pounds," the old man said casually.

Loren's heart skipped a beat; he only had 13 pounds on him. Whether it was a coincidence or something else, the old man seemed strange.

He handed the money to the old man and accepted the book.

The old man put away the money, stood up, straightened his clothes, turned and walked away. "That's it, we'll meet again, Loren."

This little guy already has magical energy emanating from him; the Book of Admission must know his name. They will meet again.

Loren nodded blankly, and on the way to the performance hall, he kept thinking about where that old guy had put that cup of coffee and the small stool. He really was like a charlatan.

He decided to treat these two books as stories, and not to look up any information if he didn't understand them.

That's how it is in TV dramas: a mysterious person gives you something mysterious, and the more you investigate, the more you fall into their carefully laid trap. These kinds of people are no good at all!

Upon entering the performance hall, the show had already begun. Loren looked around and spotted Pete in the front row on the right side of the stage.

Pete saw him too, stood up, waved, and called out, "Hey! Loren! Over here! This band is really interesting."

After exchanging greetings, Loren sat down next to Pete and began watching the performance.

The stage was almost entirely filled with male musicians with long hair, not the outrageous rock and hip-hop that Loren had imagined. They performed songs of various styles, making it a proper band's show.

The musicians on stage created a lively atmosphere, and the audience below clapped, screamed, and laughed along. Such joyful moments were rare in the small town.

People around Loren were saying that most of the songs performed were unfamiliar, but the styles were all very unique.

"This band is amazing!"

"They'll definitely release their own album after the tour!"

"They're definitely going to become famous!"

A group of young people were shouting that.

Loren's initially restless heart calmed down with the singing and dancing.

In this winter, at this Christmas, he began to miss Grandpa Bates' cheese, Sister Joyce's embrace, and the cookies Mr. Bumble had given him that day...

What did the cookies taste like again? Loren felt time was flying by; he couldn't even remember what Mr. Bumble looked like...

(End of this chapter)