Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 74 Human joys and sorrows are not shared.

Loren and Rolf spent the afternoon together, discussing fish food and how to make frozen pears. Loren occasionally asked him about magical creatures he had heard of, like thunderbirds and bird snakes, just talking about whatever came to mind.

Rolf was initially somewhat resentful, as his grandfather Newt had taken the family back to Paris for a nostalgic trip, leaving him at Hogwarts. Now, however, he felt that this kind of vacation wasn't so bad after all.

Sunday, two days before Christmas.

When Ron got up, he wanted to stay in bed a little longer, fidgeting in the blankets and barely speaking. He didn't pester Loren to play chess.

Loren felt a little sorry for him; he had missed a chance to go back to sleep.

After breakfast, Loren hurriedly pulled Rolf back to Black Lake.

It was another windless, bright sunny day. Loren nodded. Heaven had destined you fish to be caught by me. Accept your fate!

boom!

He dug a hole, dug a burrow, cast the hook, and lay down. Loren did it all in one smooth motion, so fast that Rolf couldn't react in time.

"I mixed some herbs into the regular fish food; Greendylow won't like the taste." Rolf, mimicking Loren, lay back in the chair.

"Don't worry, you can have half of today's fish."

Hearing Loren's confident voice, Rolf also became expectant.

"Loren!"

"Rolf!"

Ron’s energetic voice came from behind, carrying several bags of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, as he glided toward them. Escaping from under the covers was no easy feat.

"Is it really worth getting up this early just to go fishing?"

Ron, panting, said to Loren, "If you want to eat fish, you can ask the kitchen sprites to make it. I remember there's a dish called Stargazing, which has lots of fish."

Loren kept his eyes fixed on the buoy, ignoring the malice in Ron's words. "You're still young, you don't understand."

"You're just idling around fishing anyway, let's play chess!" Ron held up a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, shaking the packaging so the beans inside rattled.

Loren finally looked up, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Finding no suitable place to sleep nearby, he abandoned the idea of ​​casting a stun spell on Ron. Ron, unaware, had missed another chance to go back to sleep.

"You go down with Rolf." Loren waved his wand and conjured another recliner, then a stone table between Ron and Rolf, covered with grid lines.

Rolf, his curly hair drooping, stared curiously at the grid lines, wondering what kind of game Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans could play. Was this some little wizard's new game?

A strange scene unfolded on Black Lake: a fisherman guarded his fishing rod, while a chess player was teaching a child bad habits.

Rolf helped Ron turn Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans into chess pieces, and the pieces they made together were more orderly than those Ron made alone.

He quickly grasped the rules of Gomoku and was eager to try, but playing against Ron wasn't very fun.

Rolf was just a novice, and Ron could always quickly complete the setup and win the game. Neither the one who was stomping the noobs nor the one who was stomped had much of a gaming experience.

After a few rounds, Ron felt embarrassed to continue bullying others, and Rolf was freed from his clutches.

The game of chess was off, so Ron and Rolf lay on their chairs, chipping away at their candy-bean chess pieces, waiting for Loren to catch the fish.

Loren would occasionally lift his fishing rod to check if the bait was still there. The bait was always there, but no fish were biting.

The sound of the fishing hook breaking the water rang out once again.

Ron understood; it was about casting the line, lifting it up, and repeating the process over and over. "Loren, can you make a hole and get me a fishing rod too?"

Loren pointed his nose at Ron, his eyes filled with disdain.

Ha, young man, trying ice fishing on your first try? Do you think you can handle it?

"【Thunderbolt Penetration】"

"【Thunderbolt Penetration】"

Not wanting Rolf to just stand there watching, Loren opened two holes and gave one fishing rod to Ron and one to Rolf.

Three fishermen appeared on the ice.

An experienced angler instructed two new anglers on how to bait their fish, how to read the float, and how to cast their lines.

After watching the two men cast their fishing lines into the water, Loren enthusiastically explained to them why they chose this spot to dig their holes, citing reasons such as its location facing the wind and sheltered from the wind, its sunny location, and the color of the ice...

Give them a heads-up; fishing isn't an easy thing. That'll make things easier for the air force later.

Rolf nodded, seemingly understanding, realizing there were so many intricacies to fish. Much of this could be applied to magical creatures; he'd write to his grandfather that night, some of the methods mentioned being very insightful for his research.

Ron saw his float move, the fishing line sway slightly, and he felt a strange pull from the fishing rod in his hand.

"I... I think I've got a fish on the hook." Ron lowered his voice, afraid of scaring the fish away.

He felt a subtle sensation, his heart racing with excitement. Ron seemed to understand the joy of fishing that Loren had described.

"Pull it up slowly, and give it a good tug." Loren calmly instructed Ron on the key points of reeling in, his teeth practically grinding together.

What's the big deal? It's just newbie protection. It's available in many areas. Once Ron gets into it, he'll know what it means to be an air force expert.

Loren gripped the fishing rod tightly, his fingers turning white.

Suppressing his excitement, Ron carefully pulled the fishing rod, dragged the fish out of the hole, and threw it onto the ice next to him.

Fish the size of an adult's palm, with a fishhook in their mouths, are thrashing about on the ice.

"Fortunately, it's a bream, a common fish in British freshwater lakes." Loren stared at the fish, his voice calm and collected, gripping the fishing rod even tighter.

"Haha! I caught a fish!" Ron shouted, ignoring the cold water, as he held the fish in his hands.

For a wizard, catching fish is a simple matter. He didn't know why he was so excited, but he was just very happy.

The second fish caught was by Rolf, a carp the size of a boot. Rolf squatted down, poking the hopping carp with his hand, a subtle sense of accomplishment rising within him.

"A carp, and a very good size too." Loren's smile was a little forced. There was a certain animal affinity in the Rolf family, a natural talent, just like Harry's Quidditch.

It must be a bad spot for them to fish. The fact that both of them caught fish proves that their choice of location was definitely correct; they were just unlucky. Loren walked over and dug a new fishing hole.

Ron and Rolf experienced a bit of the joy of fishing, not in the fish they caught, but in the time when the fish was hooked, as if they were one with the fishing rod, outsmarting and outmaneuvering the fish, and finally reaping the joy of victory.

The two quickly recast their lines.

There were four fishing holes on the ice, and three anglers, all silently watching their respective floats.

Time passed slowly, and Rolf caught three fish in succession, a smile spreading across his face despite his shyness.

Loren could convince himself that this person had a natural talent for being kind to animals.

A few minutes later, Ron caught a fish longer than his arm. His hands were red from the cold, and he was overjoyed as he held the big carp.

Human joys and sorrows are not shared, and Loren only found Ron noisy.

The local fish were so rude, so he angrily moved to another spot to dig a hole.

The scene on the ice has changed: two new anglers are staring at their floats, while a seasoned angler is digging holes everywhere.

Explosions continued to occur intermittently, but Loren still hadn't caught a fish.

Just as Loren was about to open the sixth fishing hole, a tremor came from the ice, followed by a low, muffled groan.

"Waaah—"

Rolf realized what was happening and explained to Loren, "This is a giant squid from the water. We may have disturbed some underwater creatures."

Loren touched his nose, feeling somewhat embarrassed. The Black Lake in the magical world wasn't the small lake on the mountain he used to live in; he couldn't just use explosives to fish there. What if the merman went to Dumbledore and complained? He might even be arrested and put in solitary confinement.

The three quickly packed their things and left, with Ron using a levitation spell to support his giant carp.

"Let's go back and play chess."

"Go with your big carp."

Accompanied by the crunching sound of their shoes on the ice, the three figures gradually moved away from the Black Lake.

Beneath the ice, scattered fragments of light pierced the darkness of the deep water, gradually being swallowed by the darkness.

An old mermaid gazed in the direction where Loren and his companions had gone. He was very old, and anyone could notice that at first glance.

Both its dark green hair and deep green beard had become withered and shriveled, looking nothing like it had been soaking in water. The iron-gray of its skin had blended with the silver of its tail, creating a color somewhere between gray, white, and silver.

The old fish's eyes, as withered and yellow as autumn leaves, gleamed faintly in the water, ancient legends emerging in its pupils, reflecting the scenery before it.

The black-haired, black-eyed witch had many names; some called her Morgan le Fay, others Morgana, and perhaps some other names, but the old merman couldn't remember them all.

In legend, she had an even more resounding title—Morgan the Fairy.

She is sometimes portrayed as a good person, and sometimes as a villain; the truth remains unknown.

Some say that Morgana and Merlin were once friends and studied magic together.

But what is more widely known is that as Merlin's enemies, their feud has not been passed down to the present day; the truth has been lost in the long river of history, and many wizards have never even heard of this name. No one knows what became of the fairy Morgana.

A few days ago, his friends from the centaur tribe sent someone to tell him that the celestial phenomena had changed, a change unprecedented in thousands of years, and that a wave would sweep across the entire world, whether it be the Muggle world or the magical world.

Upon hearing the name of the little wizard on the ice, he seemed to see the waves.

(End of this chapter)