Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 87 The First Day of the Second School Year

In the dead of night, the portraits hanging on the walls of Hogwarts had all fallen asleep, and the corridors were empty.

If you listen carefully, you can hear light footsteps echoing in the empty space, adding an eerie touch to the dim environment.

"Who is Nagini, and why does she want to chat with me?"

Chatter filled the hallway; Harry had wanted to ask this question ever since they were in the library.

"This story is a bit long."

Loren began to recount his experiences. Professor Trelawney made a prophecy related to Albania. After Christmas, he went to the Albanian forest with Professor Dumbledore and coincidentally discovered the blood-cursed orc Nagini inside a hollow tree.

It only gave a general overview, omitting the specific details, and did not mention the redemption of desperate souls, the waves, or anything about the Philosopher's Stone.

Harry and Ron were speechless, a mix of emotions swirling within them: sympathy for the blood-cursed orc Nagini, and shock at Loren's bizarre experiences.

Ron recalled those days when he was worried about having no one to play chess with, while his roommate was doing something big. He began to understand how Simo felt.

"Can my Parseltongue help?" Harry asked, wanting to lend a hand.

"Perhaps, it depends on how Dumbledore arranges it."

This put Harry and Ron at ease; if it were Dumbledore, there would definitely be no problem.

Fennel oatmeal.

A password suddenly sounded at the empty doorway, startling the fat lady awake from her sleep.

The plump woman rubbed her eyes, instinctively opened the door, and turned to the side. "Who is it?"

When she lowered her hand and looked carefully, she saw no one.

"A lurking, nocturnal scoundrel," the plump lady muttered, closing the door to the passageway and going back to sleep.

Back in his dorm room and onto his bed, a silver light flashed under the covers as Loren's consciousness sank into the alchemy lab.

Inside the hemispherical building made of red brick walls, Flamel lay horizontally atop a black boiler, from which a faint red light emanated, shining along the patterns on its surface.

"Flamemer, how exactly do I save Nagini?" Loren asked.

"Crafted from a Philosopher's Stone creature." Flamel drifted over slowly, like a fallen leaf floating on the water.

"Biotransformation?"

Flamel straightened up and explained to Loren that everything from the breeding of basilisks to the creation of magical creatures was part of biotransformation, including the body grafting and grafting practices of some dark wizards, and the creation of incarnations.

"I know of an alchemist who pieced his daughter and dog together," Loren said, though it was unclear whether it was the kind of transmutation he was thinking of.

Flamel frowned. Damn it, his illusory body actually felt some physical discomfort.

"First of all, the magical world does not currently possess such advanced biotransformation technology, and any unauthorized biotransformation involving human beings is a serious violation of the law."

"Oh." Loren didn't take breaking the law to heart; in the magical world, it wasn't considered illegal unless you got caught. "What should I do?"

"Understanding the human body's structure is essential. When you're in the process of transmutation, building the human body requires your knowledge; the rest depends on luck." Flamel lay back down, drifting around.

"luck?"

"The body must match the soul, otherwise the two will repel each other, continuously weaken, and eventually disintegrate," Flamel explained.

Loren blinked. The more he listened, the more it sounded like Voldemort had possessed Quirrell, but Voldemort's soul and Quirrell's body were incompatible, causing Quirrell to become weaker and weaker. If it weren't for the unicorn blood, Quirrell's body would have disintegrated.

"How do you match body and soul?" Loren asked. Voldemort longed for a truly compatible body, and he was certainly interested in such knowledge.

"Like I said, it depends on luck." Flamel spread his hands and smiled. "A 50-year-old soul may not match his 49-year-old body. Only deep down he knows what he looks like; no one else can see it."

Deep down, Loren nodded as if he understood but not quite.

"Let's begin today's rune drawing," Flamel concluded the conversation.

Loren continued his grand project of crafting space equipment.

The wand lightly touched one end of the unicorn's tail hair, and the white filaments emitted a silvery light, clinging to the wand.

Loren carefully swung his wand, drawing a double concentric circle on the inside bottom of the suitcase, and then sketching a six-pointed star within the concentric circle. He had already mastered the art of drawing the base of the array.

The next challenge is the three pairs of runes.

The three pairs of runes are located at the six points of the hexagram, and each pair is symmetrical about the center of the hexagram. Although it is said to be three pairs, there are actually three.

The first pair of runes functions to isolate space, preventing the space in the real world from affecting the space expanded by the Seamless Stretch Charm inside the box. This prevents the box from being jostled and churned inside when it's bumped or knocked around in the outside world; simply put, it's shockproof.

The second pair of runes serves to separate the weight, separating the weight borne by the space from the weight borne by the box.

The Unsealable Stretch Charm has a certain ability to reduce weight, as seen in Hogwarts' trunks. However, the trunks don't expand much. Loren wanted a room-sized space, and if it was filled with things, the Unsealable Stretch Charm alone wouldn't achieve the desired effect.

The third pair of runes connects the internal space of the box to the real world. To store living creatures inside, it's essential to maintain constant communication with the real world to prevent the creatures from suffocating if the box is closed. The goal is to isolate the creatures from the real world while maintaining connections in some way.

After completing a set of magical runes, Loren felt that it wasn't that the space inside the box had been extended, but rather that a small bubble-like auxiliary space had been created in the dimension of real space, with the box merely serving as the entrance and exit of the bubble space.

Of course, this is just his guess.

It was another busy night. Loren spent the entire night but couldn't draw a single magic rune.

The morning light streamed through the window, casting a white haze over everything; today was another rainy day.

After a holiday break, when they attended Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class again, the young wizards seemed to have forgotten Professor McGonagall's authority, chattering away in front of her.

"Ron, did your mom and dad send you any pictures of dragons?" Dean poked his head from the back row to the front, wedging between Harry and Ron, and asked expectantly.

The young wizards in the vicinity gradually gathered around, eager to see the fire dragon.

Ron shook his head. "No."

The little wizards dispersed again.

Dean wanted to say something more, but Professor McGonagall had already begun teaching.

"Before we begin this lesson, let's review how to turn a matchbox into a snuffbox." Professor McGonagall handed each student a matchbox and asked them to cast the spell.

The result was terrible. Before the holiday, most people could conjure snuffboxes, even the worst students could make them into the shape of snuffboxes. Now, only a few people in the whole class can do it. It's clear that very few people practiced transformation during the holiday.

Most students have a disdain for Transfiguration. They think that spells that are more magical and powerful are cooler, and that Transfiguration is too useless.

"Professor McGonagall must be very sad." Hermione frowned; although her snuffbox was exquisite, she didn't seem very happy.

Loren, standing nearby, was engrossed in his own world, drawing runes on a snuffbox with his wand.

"Ha!" Malfoy sat on the table with a perfectly standard snuffbox, looking smugly at the people around him, but no one paid him any attention.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, her eyes scanning the classroom.

The young wizards below felt as if their innermost thoughts had been read, and the atmosphere in the classroom became tense. Everyone felt that Professor McGonagall was about to lose her temper at any moment.

"Now, let me reiterate the key points of transforming a snuffbox..."

Professor McGonagall did not swear or criticize anyone.

This attitude made the students who hadn't managed to conjure up the snuffbox feel guilty. They listened attentively to every word Professor McGonagall said, and the classroom quieted down, with only Professor McGonagall's voice remaining.

After class, Professor McGonagall hurriedly left the classroom; she needed to return to her office to reorganize the teaching schedule.

The corridor from the Transformation Classroom to the Auditorium.

"Professor McGonagall must be very sad," Hermione repeated sadly. She felt sorry for Professor McGonagall; how could so many people not review the Transfiguration material?

"Don't worry, Professor McGonagall must have anticipated this; it's not her first time teaching first grade."

Loren's words made Hermione feel a little better.

The afternoon herb class was for Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs together, starting from the castle and heading to the greenhouse.

The snow on the road was wet from the rain, and the mud had softened, leaving a sticky mess of black and yellow mud clinging to their boots. The young wizards weren't bothered by this; their boots made a "plop, plop" sound as they stepped through the mud.

Loren kicked down, splashing mud and water onto Hermione and Harry's trousers, and mud splattered onto their black robes.

"Ah—!" Hermione screamed.

He immediately looked up and stared straight ahead, pretending it was just an accident.

Harry stared blankly at Loren; if the man hadn't done it on purpose, he would have swallowed the boot.

Loren kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, looking directly towards the greenhouse.

Harry kicked down, splashing mud and water all over Loren and Ron.

"Oh! You must have done it on purpose!" Loren accused Harry first.

Harry nodded, readily admitting, "I am!"

As he spoke, he stomped down again, splashing mud and water onto Loren and Ron.

"Enough!" Ron, having suffered two AOE attacks, retaliated by stomping his foot on the muddy water, which also affected Seamus in his counterattack against Harry.

Simo, always eager for a good show, practically had his eyes lighting up at the sight. "Is this a new game?!"

A brawl broke out among the Gryffindor boys, with kicks landing with a "plop" and mud splashing everywhere.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Clutching her book, she quickened her pace to join the Hufflepuff group, and the other Gryphon girls followed suit.

But the fighting soon spread to Hufflepuff, where the little badgers joined the fray.

"what!"

"Ha ha ha ha!"

The girls screamed, the boys laughed.

This scene didn't last long; soon the girls joined the fight and retaliated fiercely.

"Ouch—muddy water got into my nose—spit it out!" Clearly, muddy water got into the little wizard's mouth while he was speaking.

Hermione braved the gunfire to return to Loren's side and splashed him with mud; he was the culprit.

Everyone only calmed down once they entered the greenhouse and the ground was free of mud and water.

Many Hufflepuff wizards came over and greeted Loren warmly. The frozen pears facilitated their social interaction, and the fact that everyone was covered in mud made them even more friendly.

Laughter echoed in the greenhouse.

Loren introduced Rolfe to Hermione, Harry, and the others who were home for the holidays, mentioning, as usual, that Rolfe's grandfather, Newt Scamander, was the author of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them".

Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse with a smile, but then the smile froze on his face.

She had a deep suspicion that these students had just been dug out of the ground. Had she misremembered that today's lesson wasn't about loosening the soil around the herbs, but rather about loosening the soil around the students?

The young wizards, their faces and bodies covered in mud, looked at Professor Sprout with smiles.

The professor slowly walked to the bench in front of the greenhouse, calmed himself down, and began today's lesson, "Today we're going to loosen the soil around some hibernating herbs to help them revive..."

The course proceeded normally, but the practical part was a little different from before; no one was wearing long-sleeved gloves anymore.

That's easy to understand. Long-sleeved gloves are to prevent mud from getting on the sleeves. Do they still need to worry about that now?

The unique herbalism class brought a novel experience to the young wizards.

Loren noticed Rolf ahead of him, who always patted his pockets when he moved the herbs to new holes.

A small, green-headed creature, resembling a praying mantis or a tiny person, about the size of a palm, emerged from Rolf's pocket and began tending to the herbs in his hand.

A tree-protecting hunchback?

Loren looked at him curiously. No wonder Rolf always got an O (excellent) in herbalism class. This kid had hired outside help.

Just as Loren was lost in thought, a cool, wet touch brushed against his face, startling him.

"Aren't you going to help properly!" Hermione glared at Loren with bright eyes, huffing and puffing. Her hair and clothes were covered in mud, but she had wiped the mud off her face with a handkerchief.

"Yes, Your Highness!" Loren obediently joined in the work of loosening the soil and transplanting the plants.

Hermione was so angry she laughed, thinking she'd find an excuse to smear mud marks on his face again later.

……

"That concludes today's herbalism lesson!" Professor Sprout called to the young wizards to put their tools away.

The little wizard walked towards the door, intending to return to the castle to freshen up.

"Furthermore!" Professor Sprout looked at the group of mud monkeys, waved his wand, and cast, "[Whirlwind Sweep]!"

A strong gust of wind swept up, swirling the mud off the young wizards and carrying them out of the greenhouse.

"Pay attention to your appearance from now on! Don't get so dirty during herbal medicine class."

"Long live Professor Sprout!"

The young wizards cheered and poured out of the greenhouse.

As for how many people continued to wade through mud on their way back to the city, and how many innocent people were caught in the mud, perhaps one can discern the answer amidst the laughter and screams.

An unknown little witch was secretly regretting that she hadn't been able to draw more mud marks on someone's face.

(End of this chapter)