Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 85 Everyone's Holiday Has Their Own Story

"Sitting on the Ferris wheel, you can see the whole amusement park," Harry boasted, emphasizing each word as he spoke, his eyes fixed on the empty space, his mind replaying the Ferris wheel.

"But don't you fly even higher on your flying broomstick?" Ron asked, puzzled. He couldn't understand what was so strange about a wizard being able to see far from a high vantage point.

"I—" Harry stammered.

Yes, the Ferris wheel doesn't even fly as high as he does on his flying broomstick, so why is he so happy?

For the past ten years, I've spent Christmas locked in the storage room under the stairs, counting the 196 floor tiles and the 625 horizontal lines on the ceiling, spending Christmas with them.

He imagined sneaking a bite of their leftover Christmas dinner after the Dursleys fell asleep that night. There was no clock in the storage room; this fantasy would continue for who knows how long.

When Dudley, who was as clumsy as a pig, dragged his parents home and loudly boasted about the Ferris wheel at the dinner table, that was Harry's first impression of the Ferris wheel.

"It's not that the Ferris wheel is fun, it's that Harry has his own family now," Neville said, making the people around him feel a little unfamiliar.

Harry silently agreed with this statement, raised the glass of juice and gently swirled it, silently saying to himself: Cheers to this unprecedented Christmas.

He drank it all in one gulp.

In the Gryffindor common room, on a bench, the five students from Loren's dormitory huddled together, talking about their Christmas holidays.

Hermione sat in the soft chair, her small back ramrod straight, intently grading the holiday homework of several students.

My previous trick of randomly filling in an answer when I encountered a question I didn't know in order to trick people into giving me the correct answer was exposed because of a careless mistake. This made this assignment much more difficult.

Here's the situation: a potions problem asks: Where can we get dung stones?

Ron's answer was "toilet," then he crossed out "toilet" and wrote "washroom" next to it.

This answer is too outrageous. The little witch can't understand why she would fill in such an answer. Did she only see the word "feces" in the question?

After some questioning, Hermione learned their trick. From then on, whenever she saw their mistakes, she would simply mark them with charcoal instead of writing down the correct answers.

Loren was wondering how to tell Harry about Nagini; he had previously thought the two could communicate about it. But now that Harry was actually back, he was at a loss as to what to talk about.

His mind was filled with a multitude of thoughts, which ultimately converged on the Philosopher's Stone. He resolved to ask Flamel about it tonight.

After Hermione finished grading the homework, she pulled Harry and Ron into a small circle to start plotting. To be honest, the three of them were quite loud. Every now and then, words like "Fluwell," "Nicolas Flamel," and "The Philosopher's Stone" would pop up from within the circle.

When Neville talked about making frozen pears during the holidays, his grandmother was both happy and a little unhappy when she ate the pears.

"She likes the frozen pears I make, but she also thinks I shouldn't do these things," Neville sighed, unsure how to face his grandmother and parents.

Grandma hoped he would grow up to be a strong and brave man and continue Longbottom's glory, but Neville felt he couldn't live up to that expectation.

He wasn't a boy who survived a great calamity; his wand couldn't cast a spell that could blow a troll's head off; he wasn't smart enough, wasn't cheerful enough, and had a bad memory.

All he remembered was that the medicine at St. Mungo's Hospital was very bitter, even more bitter than the medicine prescribed by Mrs. Pomfrey, and even more bitter than the medicine Mrs. Pomfrey got from Professor Snape.

He'd known it since he was eight. That time, he went with his grandmother to visit his parents in St. Mungo's, and saw them, expressionless and silent. He saw them, in a frenzy, babbling incoherently.

The child in the next bed said they were on a mission and would be discharged once they finished their medicine.

Eight-year-old Neville had an even worse memory, but he remembered the words. He sneaked to the pharmacy, drank half a bellyful of bitter water, and ended up in the hospital. Scales grew on his face, and feathers sprouted from his arms.

Neville stayed in bed for a week and finished his medicine.

But my parents' bitterness is endless; there's always new bitterness to be had. How much they must be suffering!

Neville wanted to give them something sweet, so frozen pears were one of those. That day, Mom and Dad ate them with their faces covered in pears, and Neville was laughing, as was Grandma.

But at night he saw his grandmother secretly wiping away tears. His parents were drinking bitter water, and his grandmother's eyes were also filled with bitter water.

My parents' bitterness is endless, and my grandmother's tears never dry.

Neville kept these thoughts to himself, looked Loren in the eye and said earnestly, "Frozen pears are the sweetest, sweeter than frozen apples and frozen peaches."

……

Before going to bed, Harry and Ron were acting suspiciously, glancing at the other three in the dormitory every now and then to see if they were asleep. Whenever Loren looked at them, the two would turn their heads away, clumsily pretending nothing was wrong.

When Neville's call came, Harry and Ron exchanged secret signals with their mouths. They tiptoed out of bed, left their dormitory, went down the stairs, and walked to the empty common room late at night.

In the dimly lit lounge, the two buried their heads together, using the light coming through the window to examine a shimmering silver fabric, so thin it seemed to flow like liquid.

"The Invisibility Cloak!" Ron's surprised voice echoed in the lounge.

Then came another rustling sound.

Harry draped the silver fabric over the two of them and disappeared, leaving the common room suddenly empty. There was no one in sight, but sounds continued to drift out.

"This invisibility cloak can hide three or four people."

"Merlin's beard, now we don't have to worry about getting caught while out at night," Ron said excitedly.

There are many invisibility cloaks in the magical world, and there are two main ways to make them.

One type is made from the fur of a Cloaked Beast, a method that has been banned by the Fantastic Beasts Protection Act pushed by Newt. On the other hand, Cloaked Beasts have eyes that can see the future, and few can catch them.

Most of the existing invisibility cloaks made of animal hides are from the past.

The second method involves using an alchemical array to fix the effect of the Disappearance Charm. This is the mainstream method currently used in the magical world, but it is expensive, has mediocre results, and the resulting invisibility cloak will gradually lose its effectiveness over time.

The Invisibility Cloak, one of the Deathly Hallows in Harry's possession, is the most mysterious item; no one knows what it's made of. It's said to be Death's own garment.

In terms of effectiveness, this Deathly Hallows seemed no different from a regular invisibility cloak. Some wizards possess keen senses and, though they cannot see, can detect those beneath the cloak; Snape was one of them.

Loren nestled behind the stairs, his blue eyes reflecting dark gray shadows that outlined two figures leaning side by side, their bodies glowing with fiery red magic.

In the abandoned classroom where the Mirror of Erised was discovered, Loren realized that his eyes could see through invisibility, even Dumbledore's Illusion Charm, and this time the Invisibility Cloak was no exception.

Loren chuckled, his eyes darting around.

While the two people below were examining his invisible body, he suppressed his smile, pretended to be sleepwalking, and walked down the stairs with a blank and dazed expression, muttering in a pretentious manner, "Philosopher's Stone, Philosopher's Stone."

Harry and Ron were initially surprised, then fell silent simultaneously, their eyes fixed on Loren, their ears perked up to listen intently to what he had to say.

"The secret of the Philosopher's Stone is—"

Harry and Ron's eyes widened.

"The secret of the Philosopher's Stone is—"

The two held their breath.

"Let Harry become light."

Harry's pupils contracted, before he could even grasp what turning into light meant.

Taking advantage of the fact that the two were caught off guard, Loren reached out and pulled forward, tearing off the invisibility cloak.

"I knew you two were acting suspiciously."

"Want to go for a night stroll?"

Loren ran his fingers over the invisibility cloak; it was thinner than parchment, offering no resistance whatsoever. It was smooth and cool, unlike any known fabric.

I only made 2k today, I'll see if I can make up for it with another 2k tomorrow. This week has been really unlucky. First, I got bitten by a bug, and my leg hurt like crazy. Then I kept working overtime and getting yelled at. I feel like I might be laid off.

Me, the little mouse, might be going to have to write books full-time.

(End of this chapter)