Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 58 Hogwarts in Early Winter [Please continue reading, please invest!]

Breakfast time, at the Gryffindor long table.

Harry struggled to pick up the bread, took a bite, chewed for a long time, but couldn't swallow it. After that one bite, he gave up, put the bread back on his plate, and listlessly scraped the plate with his knife and fork.

Everyone could see Harry's dejected appearance; he seemed to be emanating a dark aura.

"Hurry up and eat something, Harry," Ron said, unable to bear it any longer.

"Sigh~" Harry sighed deeply, then repeated his previous actions, taking a bite of bread and chewing for a long time before swallowing it.

It was too difficult to muster any appetite in this state, so Harry gave up, took a sip of the hot milk, and said, "I have three classes and three assignments today, and Quidditch practice tonight. Just thinking about it makes me feel suffocated."

Hermione tried to ease Harry's pressure, saying, "Professor Sprout won't have much homework. Flitwick and Binns' assignments are usually due the following week. Relax, Harry."

"Mmm, you can refer to my homework." Loren's mouth was full of a big lump, and his words were indistinct.

Hermione's hands were itching to touch that grotesque face.

Harry felt a little relieved by his friends' concern; he didn't feel so overwhelmed anymore. "It's not just homework, it's Quidditch too. I'm just a beginner, and Wood is pinning his hopes on me. I... I don't even know anything about the real game yet."

Harry couldn't continue speaking. Although the training went very smoothly and he felt great, it was his first competition, which made it impossible not to be nervous.

"Then you made it in time."

Loren swallowed what was in his mouth, reached for "The Amazing Quidditch," and slammed it on the table. "Quidditch Crash Course: the origins, evolution, and classic matches of Quidditch—this book has it all. Since you're an acquaintance, I won't charge you."

Harry ignored Loren's strange remarks, picked up the book and started reading, quickly becoming engrossed in it.

Hermione glanced at the book title and looked at Loren. This was the book she had recommended to Loren yesterday, and Loren had already summarized its main content today—that was remarkably fast. Hermione blinked thoughtfully, remaining silent.

Loren, oblivious to Hermione's strange scrutiny, continued eating.

……

After the morning herbalism class, Loren went to Professor McGonagall's office.

Professor McGonagall didn't make things difficult for him. After asking him a few simple questions about the scoring rules, she let him pass and wrote him a warrant, which he then took to Lee Jordan to practice with him.

Before leaving the office, Professor McGonagall called out to Loren, looking at him gently. "I know the reasons given by family and friends are just to convince me. No matter how naughty a Gryffindor student is, they are still my students. There will be no pure-blood or Muggle talk here. Loren, you have a group of good friends."

"I understand, Professor."

Loren had never seen Professor McGonagall like this before and was somewhat at a loss for words.

Before Loren could think further, Professor McGonagall hardened her face and said, "But if you dare to cause trouble during the game, I'll turn you into a Quaffle."

"No problem, Professor!"

Loren patted his chest. This was right; this was the Professor McGonagall he knew.

He promises not to cause trouble. What bad intentions could an ordinary Quidditch commentator possibly have? He's just trying to create some fun.

……

As November progressed, the weather grew increasingly cold. Although there hadn't been any heavy snowfall yet, the lake had already frozen over. Every morning, a thick layer of frost would form on the windows. The mountains surrounding the school were shrouded in a gray haze, also covered in white frost.

Through the window, you could see Hagrid, bundled up in thick clothes—a mole fur coat, rabbit fur gloves, and beaver fur boots. He was always on the Quidditch pitch, defrosting his flying broomsticks.

The fireplaces throughout the castle were burning brightly, and even the walls felt warm to the touch. The students didn't feel cold at all inside the castle; they only put on their coats under their robes when there were outdoor classes.

Although the castle was warm, it could get stuffy after a while, and everyone was listless and lacked energy. Before class, the professors would use "Whirlwind Sweep" to bring in some fresh air.

The students, however, believed that fresh air should be taken outside the castle, to the grass, or to the courtyard. The twin brothers boasted that the air in the Forbidden Forest was the freshest, claiming that even just smelling it at the edge of the Forbidden Forest would make them happy and cheerful all day long.

The senior students taught the freshmen a modified fire spell. The blue flames that were created did not require any fuel, floated in the air, and were just the right temperature to keep warm without burning people.

Girls like to put a handful of bright blue flames in a honey jar and carry it with them; it's warm and pretty.

When Loren first saw it, he thought it was something like phosphorescence. Later, he discovered that the flame could keep burning even when it was sealed in a jar. He was quite impressed. What the hell are the three elements of combustion, combustibles, accelerants, and ignition sources? Magic is everything.

Loren, Hermione, and the others would find a corner in the yard, set out a few flasks of bright blue flame, and sit there reading, chatting, and eating. Like a spring outing, this kind of activity in winter kept them alert and prevented them from feeling lazy and constantly wanting to sleep.

On Friday, the day before the Quidditch match, Loren, Hermione, Harry, and Ron sat together around the fire.

Hermione and Loren were checking their homework for the week, occasionally adding things between sentences.

Loren would scribble and rewrite as he pleased before handing the assignment directly to the professor, believing this demonstrated his thought process. Whether it was easy to decipher or read was irrelevant to him; he was just a student, responsible only for completing his homework.

Hermione would rewrite it again, neatly and legibly.

Harry and Ron both preferred to refer to Hermione's homework, but whether Hermione was willing to do so was another matter entirely.

Ron was playing with the blue flames, which looked like dandelions or cotton balls. Ron blew on the flames, making them fly up and fall. He blew on them again from below, and they flew up again. The fluttering flames were like butterflies, their blue wings shimmering. Ron was engrossed in this game.

Harry was still reading "Quidditch in Wonderland." Nobody cared about the seven hundred fouls or anything like that; what was more interesting were the anecdotes about Quidditch.

It's fascinating to think that all seven hundred fouls were committed during the 1473 World Cup. Also, the Seeker is usually the smallest and fastest player, which Harry thinks is exactly like him.

The most serious Quidditch accidents usually happen to the Seeker...

Harry shook his head again; he was sure it wasn't true.

Quidditch matches rarely result in death, but referees can go missing and are usually found in the Sahara Desert several months later...

Harry looked at the book, occasionally chuckling to himself like an idiot. This was his only form of entertainment and stress relief during his busy schedule.

Many friends said that the name "Muggle Life is Precious" was too discouraging, so I changed it to "Days in Hogwarts," which emphasizes obedience.

(End of this chapter)