Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 781 Draco: I'm not bald!

We chatted until around noon, which was almost lunchtime.

"Mr. Kohler, that's all for today."

Loren interrupted the conversation to say goodbye: "If you have any further questions or concerns, feel free to write to me."

"..."

Kouhauge nodded, his expression still somewhat dazed, seemingly still immersed in the conversation. It took him half a minute to recover from the shock, and he said with a wry smile, "Loren, you really are..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but shook his head and sighed: "I have to admit, this plan is completely beyond my imagination. I can't agree to it right away, but I will think about it carefully when I get back and give you an answer before the International Wizarding Union Conference."

Looking forward to your good news.

The two agreed to meet again next year. Kohler then opened the window, waved his wand, and jumped out of the speeding train, disappearing into the vast snowfield.

The figure from behind looked like it was fleeing in panic.

Loren withdrew his gaze and couldn't help but smile.

Returning to the original cubicle just in time for lunch, a witch pushing a cart happened to pass by. Nearly half of the snacks and pastries on the cart had already been sold. The most popular items were hot drinks like pumpkin juice and butterbeer, as well as ice cream, the kind that was steaming. I wonder what the students at Hogwarts were thinking.

I stopped the shopping cart and picked out some snacks and candies. Half a bag full only contained ten silver coins, which was even slightly below the market price.

It seems the school train hasn't been influenced by modern commercial thinking. These monopolistic stalls, with prices three or four times higher, hawk their wares back and forth, then lower the price or sell at the original price when they're almost at the station. Their profits are the envy of the shopkeepers in Hogsmeade.

Hermione sat silently in her cubicle, looking at the only two snacks in front of her, then at the tall pile of candy beside her, and couldn't help but ask Loren, "Didn't you just want pumpkin juice and chocolate frog?"

"We just happened to run into each other on our way back."

"You—uh…"

Loren peeled a nut and stuffed it into the girl's mouth. Then, after she swallowed the nut, he gave her a hazelnut chocolate to shut her up.

Hermione tried several times to turn her head and glare at him, but couldn't avoid it. She gave him a few sharp looks, then gave up on pursuing the snacks for the time being, her voice muffled: "Has Mr. Kohler left?"

"He jumped out of the car; he's quite agile for his age."

"..."

Hermione frowned and began to interrogate, "He sounded like he left in a hurry, that shouldn't be the case. What did you two talk about? Was it something important?"

"Promoting new space devices is not so important for now."

Loren answered sincerely.

According to his rough plan, the new space device is only in the initial design stage. The subsequent improvement and adaptation work is still tedious and lengthy. When all the designs are complete and can be put into production, that will be the time for that group of pure-blooded families to come in and help. Then, they will work with Kohauer to promote it to the world. The whole process will take several years even if they push it with all their might. If they encounter any problems or accidents, it may take even longer.

Hermione glanced at his expression, her eyes sparkling. "Are you hiding something from me, planning to tell me later?"

"That's right."

"When is 'later'?"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly, her fair face filled with curiosity. She looked incredibly beautiful. Despite being full of questions, she didn't press for answers, and the more you looked at her, the more beautiful she became.

"After graduation, I don't want these things to affect your career choices."

"..."

Hermione gave a thoughtful look.

Career choices... it seems the matter he discussed with Mr. Kohauer involves the Ministry of Magic, or rather, the entire wizarding world. If it were merely about promoting new spatial devices, it clearly wouldn't reach this level...

What could it be?

Just as Hermione was lost in thought, another sweet-smelling candy was offered to her lips. Without much thought, she opened her mouth and put it in.

The filamentous tentacles swayed incessantly, and the slender legs were covered with neat and dense protrusions that hooked onto the tongue and the inside of the mouth, crawling around as if trying to crawl into the stomach or out through the connected nose.

"A pile of cockroaches!"

The familiar touch sent shivers down Hermione's spine. Having been tricked and tempted by Loren to taste it many times over the years, she was no longer as resistant as she was in her younger years. However, the sudden appearance of a lively insect with tentacles and thin legs in her mouth still made her shudder.

Only when the outer chocolate melts and the inner lemon syrup bursts forth, its refreshing sweetness gradually soothes the discomfort in the mouth.

"Loren Morgan!"

Hermione stared wide-eyed at the man.

Loren blinked innocently, holding another pile of cockroaches in his hand, about to feed it to the cockroach.

Then I was subjected to domestic violence.

……

Life back in London was peaceful and comfortable, but also a bit boring.

The Grangers' clinic had closed for the holidays, but they couldn't stay idle. Every day they were busy attending various dinners and dances. With Christmas approaching, the adults' main jobs had stopped, but their social lives had become busier, with invitations from clinic patients and various medical associations. Grandpa Bates had a similar tendency; no one knew when he had gotten involved in so many interest groups, some even club-like, keeping him busier than the dentist couple.

Over the next few days, Loren and Hermione were busy decorating the house, driving Grandpa Bates' car to buy holly and mistletoe branches, and buying food. Sometimes, traffic cops would knock on their windows to ask their age and driver's license because they looked young, and they would be inexplicably fooled.

The decorations were only completed just before Christmas. The courtyard was now adorned with a sparkling Christmas tree, several abstract snowmen, and holly branches hanging from the walls and ceiling.

Because of traditional customs, mistletoe branches are mostly bare, with no berries, so they are just for show.

On Christmas Eve, the two families finally had some free time and gathered at the table to enjoy a meal and experience a rare moment of reunion.

Monica pinched a crispy-crusted egg tart, took a big bite, and savored the soft, smooth, almost molten filling. She let out a satisfied sigh and looked up to ask, "Loren, when are you going back to school?"

Late January, I guess.

"And what about summer? When will you graduate and leave school?"

"Mid to late June, I think? What's wrong?"

Have you decided on a job after graduation?

"Hermione plans to join the Department of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic, while I plan to go to the Alchemy Research Centre."

Grandpa Bates, who was cutting a steak, suddenly spoke up: "You're about to graduate from magic school, and you've decided on your job in the magical world. It's settled that you won't be attending a regular university, is that right?"

Loren and Hermione nodded.

"Then we can start preparing for the wedding."

"Cough cough! Cough cough!"

Wendell and Hermione choked and coughed repeatedly, only recovering after drinking most of a glass of milk. Monica, however, watched them with a smile, seemingly unsurprised.

Loren silently watched Grandpa Bates, his gaze deep and unsettling.

The veteran seems to be getting a bit radical.

Wendell looked up, his cheeks flushed red from choking. "They're only 17 or 18. Isn't it too early to be talking about this?"

Hermione buried her head in her plate, pretending to be an ostrich.

"According to the wizards' age system, 17 is the age of adulthood. After completing their studies and finding a job, the next step is to start a family."

Bates smiled, his expression gentle and calm, as if he were talking about something perfectly normal, making you want to kick him out.

Bates, however, did not see it that way. In his heart, he saw himself as Loren’s only parent and relative, fighting for his child’s marriage and fulfilling his responsibilities.

"I don't care, they're wizards, but their families are normal families. They can't follow wizarding customs!"

Wendell was shouting and yelling. He had initially liked the two anglers and was planning to take them ice fishing during the Christmas holidays, but now he was just annoyed and wanted to throw them into the frozen lake as bait.

"Oh well."

Bates wasn't disappointed. It was just the first wave of a feint. The two kids were still young, and the battle was far from over; they could take it slow. "Let's talk about their lives after graduation," he said. "After graduation, Hanhan and Crookshank lived at home. Other owls would come and land on their mail, and working in the magical industry, inviting wizard colleagues over, would inevitably leave some traces of their magical abilities... Staying in Hampstead might attract the attention of the neighbors, don't you think?"

"What do you want to say?" Wendell stared at him warily.

"To make it easier for them to cast spells and for them to live comfortably, I plan to provide them with a quiet residence."

A flawless version after careful inspection!

"What?!"

This surprised everyone present.

Loren choked a little on the chicken leg meat, quickly swallowed some milk, and said, "Grandpa Bates, let's talk about this after graduation."

"Are you really not going to make a decision? There are a few manor houses for sale near London recently, in excellent locations, and the castles are very well maintained..."

"No need to rush. Wizards generally don't lack these things. Many pure-blood families will be selling off their vacant properties soon. I'll keep an eye out for these things when I get back to school... Let's wait until Hermione and I have thought it through before we talk about it."

"All right."

Grandpa Bates was quite disappointed.

Monica stared at the two of them, a smile always playing on her lips.

Only Wendell was furious, his gaze sweeping back and forth over Loren with hostility.

Hermione kept her head down, as if she had returned to her lower elementary school days, her heart filled with shyness, and she dared not look up at them.

……

"Where is the tea room?"

"Sixth floor."

Draco asked the therapist in a calm voice, nodded after receiving the answer, and turned to go to the tea room for a drink. The smell of medicine wafted through the closed ward, making his nose and throat feel slightly tight and uncomfortable.

His parents, Lucius and Narcissa, stood not far in front of him.

The Malfoy family has consistently ranked high on the donation list of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Sicknesses, donating genuine Galleons. As a result, they receive preferential treatment from the hospital, which even allows them to visit patients who are under strict guard in closed wards by magical orders.

However, due to the implementation of safety measures, the patient had just taken the "Living Hell Soup" and was in a deep sleep.

In addition to several high-ranking wizards from the hospital accompanying the visit, there were also several healers skilled in dueling standing by, perhaps to prevent the patient from suddenly attacking someone, or perhaps to keep an eye on the visitors.

Draco turned and left, followed by a young therapist who explained that the hospital had a complex structure and gave him directions.

He walked out of the closed ward expressionlessly, glancing at the hospital bed out of the corner of his eye. The person on the bed had changed out of the dirty and tattered robe he remembered and put on a hospital gown. Her originally thin figure had become a little fuller, and she was now lying peacefully on the hospital bed. But what was most eye-catching was the metal prosthetic hand in her hand, which gleamed slightly with a silver light.

The bedside table has a nameplate that reads: Bellatrix Lestrange.

That was his mother's sister, a seasoned Death Eater awaiting trial.

As a child of the Malfoy family, he was born shortly after Voldemort's downfall and had little impression of his Aunt Bellatrix until Voldemort returned and he began to truly interact with his mother's sister.

More aversion than affection.

After passing through several double doors and stepping onto the solid wood stairs, the wooden planks creaked and swayed slightly, as if they might fall apart at any moment.

"With so many donations every year, can't you spare a few Galleons to repair the downstairs stairs?"

"The donations should all be used for the patients, but the stairs are still usable, aren't they?" the young therapist named Augustus Pai replied quietly.

"..."

Draco's gaze swept around him. On the walls hung many portraits of healers, almost all of them elderly scholars with unkempt beards and grotesque faces, some even looking like medieval madmen.

As he climbed the steps, the therapists yelled at him, diagnosing all sorts of strange and bizarre ailments and coming up with horrifying treatments.

"Young master! Your flesh and blood are drying up, and your hair is about to wither!" cried a medieval healer.

"What is it?"

Draco looked at the young therapist next to him with a puzzled expression, only to see the therapist gesturing anxiously to tell him not to speak.

"This is a chronic skin and hair ailment, young master. It will cause your hairline to recede, your hair to fall out gradually and never grow back, becoming even sparser than it is now, until you are bald."

"Who are you calling bald!" Draco exclaimed in a huff.

"Only by mixing venomous snake saliva with toad mucus in the correct proportions, applying it evenly to the top of the head, and hanging upside down like a bat on the tower wall during the full moon, can the disease be cured."

"I'm not bald!"

"But your hairline is receding, young master."

"That's genetic, it's always been like that in my family!" Draco shouted, sounding somewhat embarrassed and angry. "Go back to your own picture frame and stop bothering me!"

"..."

Upon arriving at the teahouse, I gulped down several cups of strong tea, but my anger still hadn't subsided.

Worried about running into those crazy portraits again as he went downstairs, Draco deliberately chose another staircase, which made him feel a little better.

Back in the closed ward, his parents were communicating with the hospital.

"The patient is currently in good condition. Apart from the gradual weakening of the magic in the prosthetic limb, she has no other symptoms. The baby in her womb is developing healthily, and if all goes well, the baby will be born on the second Sunday of April."

"On Easter?"

"Yes." The therapist, thinking of the dark magic whose name couldn't be mentioned, also felt a little uneasy, but still reassured her, "After a joint consultation between our therapists and experts from the Ministry of Magic, no signs of dark magic were found, and we all believe that this will be a healthy and normal child."

"..."

Lucius remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking: "Please convey to the Ministry of Magic that if it is indeed a healthy and normal child, the Malfoy family is willing to adopt him, but the news must be kept secret..."

(End of this chapter)