Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 764 Will the Principal Eat Oranges?

The guests have all gathered, and the wedding is about to begin.

This was Arthur and Molly's first time organizing their children's wedding, and they poured their hearts and souls into it, but they still made some oversights and invited too many guests, including relatives from both sides, classmates and friends of the newlyweds, and colleagues from the Ministry of Magic and Gringotts.

Wizards from different countries and backgrounds gathered in the tent.

The open-air meeting space inside the tent was meticulously arranged, with carpets stretching out and converging at a circular flat area in the center. Many beautiful golden pillars stood around it, and exquisite tables and chairs were placed nearby, made of precious materials and with delicate carvings, said to have been passed down from the Weasley family.

The Weasleys are just that strange.

Calling them wealthy would be a disgrace to a pure-blooded family; they didn't even own a house before, their humble abode was built by the couple layer by layer, and their children had to wear old clothes and use old textbooks to go to school. Calling them poor, on the other hand, they could afford to take a family trip for hundreds of Galleons and bring out such expensive furniture for their wedding.

I don't know if it's because they don't care about money, or if they simply don't know how to manage their finances.

By now, almost every round table was full, and wizards in elaborate costumes were raising their glasses and conversing. Strange flowers and birds fluttered on the brim of the wizards' hats, birds on their brooches sang, and the jewelry in their hair sparkled. The chattering voices filled the entire hall.

Loren and Hermione sat down next to each other, along with Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Lavender. The boys sipped their butterbeers while secretly glancing at the Veela cousins ​​at the table of the girls' relatives.

It must be admitted that Veela are visually appealing in their normal form.

Fleur's grandmother was a Veela, so she inherited a quarter of Veela blood, exhibiting silver hair and blue eyes. The Delacour family also has mixed-race members with even purer bloodlines, resulting in fairer skin, more beautiful faces, waists almost as slender as birds, and a natural charm in their eyes and brows.

The guests in the hall were all quietly admiring the spectacle, including several witches.

Unfortunately, most of the people present were local wizards who couldn't understand the French spoken by Delacour's relatives. If it weren't for the language barrier, Lee Jordan and his group would have already gone over to strike up a conversation.

Their magic is also different from that of ordinary wizards.

Loren keenly noticed this and turned to continue observing the scene.

There were also a few wizards who remained unmoved, such as the Lovegood father and daughter at the next table.

Luna and her father wore matching bright yellow robes, with a blooming sunflower in their hair, and their smiles were radiant.

"Dad, look! A goblin bit me!"

"Fantastic! Goblin saliva is especially useful! Luna, my dear, if you feel any talent suddenly emerge today, don't suppress it! It might be a gift from the Garden Engineers!"

"Yes! I know!"

"..."

There were quite a few wizards attending the Weasley eldest son's wedding: familiar members of the Order of the Phoenix, colleagues from the Department of Law Enforcement (where the Office Against the Misuse of Muggle Items is located), colleagues from the Ministry of Magic who were on good terms with Arthur, superiors who were optimistic about Percy, members of Wizengamot, ministerial officials who came to offer their congratulations, Gringotts wizards who had dealings with Bill, and even a goblin. They were all sitting around the round table, waiting for the newlyweds to make their appearance.

It's a pity that Mrs. Maxim was not present, otherwise we could have talked about Beauxbatons and the Egyptian Alchemy Research Centre.

George and Fred were even more active than the groom, moving back and forth in the aisles of the venue, cheerfully greeting the guests.

When they meet relatives, they exchange pleasantries and try to sell Magic Workshop products. When they meet classmates and friends, they catch up and chat, trying out Magic Workshop products. They behave slightly better when they meet Ministry of Magic officials, only occasionally conducting after-sales surveys.

After wandering around in circles for a while, working up a sweat, I went back to the next table and downed several glasses of ice-cold beer.

"Why are your ears asymmetrical?" Fred mimicked the old witch's voice in a high-pitched voice, rolling his eyes. "Muriel is a nightmare."

"Do you remember? She used to come to celebrate Christmas every year."

"Luckily, we were quick-witted and put a feces bomb under her chair during dinner that year."

"..."

Percy, looking helpless, whispered to his female companions, "Angelina, Crevat, don't listen to their nonsense. Aunt Muriel is rude to everyone and doesn't speak kindly, but she's actually a very nice person. She even gave Fleur a headdress before we came..."

Loren, who was at the next table, heard everything clearly. He quietly lowered his voice and said to Harry beside him, "If Muriel lives to see you and Ginny get married, do you think you'll receive her tiara?"

Harry took a sip of his butterbeer but didn't answer.

"Look! You're shy!"

Loren pointed at his reddened ears and mercilessly exposed him, then chuckled and pulled Hermione next to him to laugh together. He inadvertently leaned forward, knocking over a champagne glass on the table with his collar. Just then, Hermione immediately reached out to steady it, slapped him irritably, and complained while taking out a handkerchief to wipe the wine stains from his collar.

Loren was still mocking Harry, laughing unrestrainedly.

In the corner on the right side of the field, a young man with black hair silently watched this scene. His thick black eyebrows and hooked nose cast shadows on his face. Finally, he sighed sadly.

He still harbored some thoughts, originally intending to go over and praise the witch's beauty and exchange a few polite words.

Viktor Krum picked up the whiskey and drank it all in one gulp.

The atmosphere in the venue grew increasingly lively, with the buzzing of conversation frequently interrupted by laughter, and the space inside the tent gradually warmed up.

Finally, the wedding ceremony began.

The Weasleys walked slowly down the aisle. Molly wore a brand-new purple robe, while Arthur wore a loose-fitting suit. They waved to their relatives and friends with restrained, nervous smiles. A moment later, the groom, Bill, stood in front of the tent, having undone his braids, removed his earrings, and donned a neat suit robe with a large white rose pinned to his buttonhole.

The Gringotts anti-curse wielder who once enjoyed adventure and thrills, that unruly wanderer, now possesses a more composed demeanor, much like his father.

The band played a melody.

Mr. Delacour escorted Fleur down the passage. Fleur wasn't wearing a glamorous wedding dress, but a simple white dress, which radiated a gentle, serene silver glow, making the nearby witches even more beautiful.

The wizards present all sighed in unison.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls, and now you will declare your wishes to the guests present at this moment..."

"William Arthur, do you take Fleur Isabelle to be your wife..."

"I hereby declare you to be husband and wife for life."

The wizard officiating the wedding waved his wand high, and the balloons floating in mid-air burst open softly, releasing birds of paradise and little golden bells. A shower of sparkling starlight fell upon the couple, swirling around the tightly embracing lovers.

Fred and George led the applause and cheers, while Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Delacour, sitting in the front row, covered their faces and shed tears of joy.

All the seats rose gracefully into the air, the tent canvas disappeared, and a pool of molten gold spread out, reflecting the brilliant sunlight and unfolding into a dazzling, crystalline circular dance floor.

The band began to play, and Bill and Fleur were the first to step onto the dance floor, their beautiful twirls winning enthusiastic applause. Then Arthur led Mrs. Delacour to the dance floor, followed by Molly and Fleur's father.

"..."

Loren hummed a waltz-like melody, stood up, straightened his collar, and smiled at Hermione beside him: "My dear Miss Granger, may I invite you to dance?"

He bent over and reached out, his posture perfectly executed.

"It's always the same sentence."

Hermione muttered something to herself and reached out to take the man's hand.

……

Night falls, at the wedding venue in the orchard.

Bottles of champagne and flaming whiskey float in mid-air, a phoenix on the wedding cake takes flight, the musicians are tired, and the melody now plays from the balloons floating in the air.

The old headmaster sat in a corner of the orchard. The tent had been taken down, and the music balloons floated in the air, becoming quieter the farther away they were. His hearing was no longer as sharp as it had been in his youth, and the music sounded somewhat ethereal and distorted. But he just liked this slightly distorted music, humming softly from time to time as he looked up at the male and female wizards twirling in the dance floor.

Luna and her father swayed gently to the music.

Even her old friend Alastor couldn't resist Molly's repeated invitations and, despite his limp, danced a song.

Harry and Ginny were kissing on the dance floor, while Ron and Lavender were dancing seriously, seemingly having matured considerably since rekindling their relationship.

George and Fred have disappeared, as have Angelina and one of Fleur's cousins.

"What a wonderful world!"

This singing didn't last long, because not far away, Charlie, Hagrid, and a short, stout wizard wearing a purple pie-shaped hat were singing "Hero Odor" in the corner. The young wizard's voice was deep and powerful, while the half-giant's voice was even rougher, easily drowning out the melody of the dance music.

Dumbledore glanced at them sideways, then used his strong willpower to ignore the noise, regain his composure, and continued humming the dance tune.

I saw green trees and red roses.

I see them open for you and me.

"So I couldn't help but think—"

"Hero Odo was carried back to his hometown."

"Carry him to a place he knew well from his childhood."

"Turn the hat inside out and bury it in the ground."

"How sad it is when a magic wand breaks in two."

"..."

After humming the last line, Dumbledore fell silent, decided to stop humming, and turned to look in the other direction.

The man stood lazily under the fruit tree, looking at the unripe green oranges. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then beckoned with his finger and pulled a fruit off the tree. He skillfully broke it open, hesitated for a few seconds after smelling the distinct sour aroma, and then tasted a segment. His face contorted with sourness, and his whole body trembled.

"Oh……"

Dumbledore couldn't help but laugh out loud.

The person not far away immediately looked up, their face full of surprise, and jogged over lightly: "Headmaster Dumbledore!"

"Loren," Dumbledore greeted with a smile.

"Why are you sitting here all alone?"

"I've been getting a lot of attention lately, trying to avoid trouble."

"I see..."

Loren nodded, discreetly observing his expression. He figured it was getting dark, and the headmaster was old, so he probably hadn't seen him earlier. He then handed him the orange, saying, "Try it, it's very sweet!"

"..."

Dumbledore's eye twitched slightly as he looked down at the orange. It was plump and round, golden yellow, juicy, and exuded a sweet, ripe aroma.

In just a few steps, he used Transfiguration to cover the green fruit peel. The whole process was done without chanting any spells or using a wand. It was silent, light, and natural. His Transfiguration skills have surpassed those of many senior scholars in related fields.

"How's this half?"

"..."

"How about half?"

"You could have completely changed the taste of the orange, so why did you only mask the appearance and insist on keeping the sour and bitter flavor?"

Dumbledore looked helpless, took the orange half, broke off a segment and put it in his mouth, squinting his eyes. It was already a sweet and fragrant ripe fruit.

Loren grinned, took the other half, and sat down beside him: "It's a family tradition that when we eat something with a special flavor, we should share it with the people around us."

"How's Mr. Bates doing lately?"

"They were busy helping Xiaomai to liberate her mind and had a lot of fun."

"How's the wheat lately?"

"Sometimes I have a lot of fun, sometimes I feel lost and confused."

"It's a good thing to feel lost and confused." Dumbledore broke off a segment of orange, straightened the white pith at the end, and put it in his mouth. "Feeling lost and confused will encourage you to actively seek answers, even if it takes a long time. It's better than living a muddled life."

"The old wizard's philosophy of life."

Loren muttered something, then broke off a segment of fruit, not to taste the orange, but to taste the old headmaster's transformation magic.

I thought it would be cloyingly sweet, but it was surprisingly refreshing. It had a slightly sour taste upon first bite, and the sweetness only emerged after the pulp broke apart. It was a perfect balance of sweet and sour with a rich fruity aroma.

It looks like an ordinary, common fruit.

As the two savored the taste of the Transfiguration, white silk threads unknowingly piled up on the table.

Loren also learned from Dumbledore about what happened in the Enchanted Realm: Voldemort had been completely destroyed, his soul shattered and unable to reassemble, unable to go to the world of the dead, and there was no place for him on the other side of life; he could only wander between life and death, suffering endless torment.

"Emptiness and nothingness will erode his wisdom, consciousness, and emotions until he turns into white mist."

"What about the pregnant Mrs. Lestrange?"

"She is currently being held in a closed ward in St. Mungo's, awaiting delivery before being transferred to court."

Loren squeezed the orange peel, the hesperidin filling the air with a pleasant aroma. He glanced at the headmaster: "What if the child is Voldemort's?"

"In that case, I sincerely wish this child well."

Dumbledore's eyes were deep: "Back then, Merope used a love potion to control Tom Riddle, which gave birth to Voldemort. That's why Voldemort never knew how to love. I don't know what Bellatrix was thinking when she conceived this child, but she certainly couldn't control Voldemort... I hope this child won't follow in his footsteps."

(End of this chapter)