Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 734 Night Falls

The round, plump, granular caviar was crushed by pressing it with a silver spoon. The broken mucus and sauce drew long, brownish-black marks on the delicate white porcelain plate, releasing a slightly fishy and salty aroma.

"Harry, doesn't this look like the dirt Little Hangleton collected?" Ron asked in a low voice, turning to Harry and pointing animatedly at the clean white plate in front of him—

The marks lying across the white porcelain were particularly glaring.

Harry stared at the long scar, swallowed hard, and suddenly lost his appetite for the delicious food on the table. He couldn't help but regret choosing to sit next to this guy when he was selecting his seat.

Hearing their conversation, Loren couldn't help but smile, raising his wine glass slightly and saying, "Harry."

"Hmm, huh?"

"Happy birthday."

Everyone raised their glasses together, the crisp sound of the glass bottles clinking together was quickly drowned out by the deep, melodious violin music, the sound of bows striking strings echoing in every corner of the restaurant.

Located on the top floor of a hotel in London's Mayfair district, this restaurant is said to be a renovated century-old building. Underfoot are interlocking wooden floors, the walls are decorated with neat vertical stripes, and above you is a nearly 30-foot-high dome with chandeliers inlaid with bronze metal hanging down.

The lighting was dim and yellowish, with the brightness just right, not so dim that it made people's vision too dark, nor so dim that they could see the guests at the next table.

A few waiters passing around the food noticed that only Loren and his group were dressed casually; the other guests were all dressed in elegant and luxurious formal attire. The men were mostly in black suits with crisp, straight-collared shirts, while the women wore long skirts of various colors, paired with lace-trimmed stockings and pretty but awkward shoes…

Wearing his homemade leather jacket, Hagrid swallowed the whole lamb chop, casually picked up a tissue to wipe his mouth, and let out a long breath.

It was supposedly a sheep from Suffolk that was less than six months old. Anyway, he didn't find it particularly appealing. The tableware provided was too small, and the portions of food were small, making it awkward and unsatisfying for him to eat.

Just hours before, they were in the snake-infested forest, collecting soil stained with the blood and flesh of corpses. Now, they sat in a quiet restaurant, enjoying a warm and delicious meal. They had originally planned to go back to school for dinner, but having traveled to so many places today, it was already late when they left Little Hangor. Loren suggested finding a restaurant in town to eat and celebrate Harry's birthday.

Ron was very interested in the Muggle restaurant, and no one else objected.

So here they are, somewhat awkwardly enjoying the services offered by the Muggle restaurant.

The nearest light source is the candlestick on the table, its faint flame burning quietly, casting a soft, warm glow on the people around it.

"The Daily Prophet once published news about Mr. Crouch," Hermione said softly, taking a small bite of applesauce and waiting for the cream to melt before continuing, "The division of Crouch's estate has caused a commotion. Although Crouch has no heirs, there are still some distant relatives who are fighting fiercely for the inheritance. The goblins of Gringotts don't want to get involved and have announced that if no one produces a legal document to inherit the estate within fifty years, the treasure in the vault will belong to Gringotts."

"That sounds just like the way fairies do things," Loren replied casually, as he was focused on making an Alpenliebe-flavored pumpkin pudding.

Gringotts—

"Hold on, Gringotts needs to be reformed and subject to regulations... If you want to discuss this in detail, I suggest you wait until I'm asleep."

Hermione pursed her lips: "I was thinking that Mr. Crouch was buried on the bank of the creek outside Crouch House. If this soil stained with blood and flesh has any use, we could... well..."

Loren fed her a spoonful of pumpkin pudding, his expression somewhat wistful.

She used to be such a nice girl, unwilling to go out at night, but now she's thinking about digging up other people's graves while eating.

We should at least wait until we run out of soil before taking it out.

Or you could have someone else bring it up.

"..."

Another dish was served. As the silver lid was lifted, wisps of white steam flowed out, carrying a faint coolness.

Ginny tugged at Harry's sleeve and asked softly, "What is this cold, white smoke? Why is it flowing instead of rising? It feels so magical."

"The waiter just said it was dry ice, carbon dioxide at low temperatures."

"What is carbon dioxide?" Ginny smoothed her hair from her temples, tilted her head to look at him, her eyes reflecting the candlelight.

Harry was momentarily stunned, and not just because of the girl's beautiful face.

In the candlelit restaurant, the girl he admired asked him a very simple question. He couldn't answer it clearly, but he didn't feel ashamed or embarrassed. This composure and calmness came from his entire past—his experiences, his adventures…

He suddenly realized that after tonight, he would be a grown-up wizard.

……

As the last rays of the setting sun faded on the horizon, a slender crescent moon appeared, and Loren saw the stars dotting the deep blue sky.

The streetlights on both sides of the road were dim and flickering, their slightly yellowish light illuminating the cobblestone ground and the faces of the wizards returning home late. The heavy footsteps of the half-giant filled everyone with a sense of security.

Ron and Hagrid huddled together, muttering complaints about the restaurant and food they had just eaten. Even for an average person, the portions were far too small.

Harry and Ginny lagged behind, whispering amongst themselves. Occasionally, words like "gift" or "like" could be heard. If it weren't for the large number of people around them, Loren suspected they would already be kissing under the streetlights.

The boar sculpture atop the school gate spread its wings, casting large shadows on the road under the light. When Loren and the others saw the school gate, a strange feeling welled up in their hearts. An inaudible voice whispered in their ears: returning here was the right thing to do; they still had things to finish.

Clearly, the effects of Folic Acid had not yet worn off.

Hermione frowned slightly, a thoughtful expression on her face, somewhat reminiscent of Professor McGonagall. She muttered about the things she had collected, her mind racing through the day's events.

Privet Drive, Little Huigkin District, Spider's End Alley in Kirkworth, Little Hangleton Gaunt's old house and cemetery... all this fuss is definitely not for practicing Legilimency.

Hagrid opened the door and followed the group into the castle foyer, then up the stairs.

"Did you sense it?" Loren stopped at the fork in the stairs on the second floor, resting his chin on his hand and turning his gaze to the right, in the direction of Myrtle's bathroom. "It seems we're not going to the Gryffindor Tower."

No one answered, but they already knew the answer in their hearts: the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin.