days at Hogwarts

It's the weekend again in a blink of an eye.

Ever since Slughorn revealed the conflicting information, Loren and his friends had been looking for a chance to talk to Dumbledore and get some information from the headmaster. Unfortunately, Dumbledore hadn't made a public appearance for a week, and his office had been vacant for a long time. No one knew where he had gone.

The follow-up was put on hold. After all, papers and reports took up almost all of the young wizards' spare time, and Hermione had almost no time to find out information about the Ministry of Magic and the Death Eaters.

Of course, she doesn't have any channels.

Loren, on the other hand, was very open-minded. As students who had not yet graduated, they could not influence the situation anyway, so they might as well relax and wait and see.

Harry and Ron didn't care about studying, nor did they have the energy to pay attention to the situation. They were even busier than Hermione. After hastily finishing their homework every day, they went straight to the Quidditch field and devoted themselves to Quidditch practice, preparing for the first game of the season, which was also the first game of the new team.

Classic draw, Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

Fortunately, the temperature dropped quickly this winter and there were few heavy rains, so they didn't have to practice in the wind and rain.

It is said that the new players' skills are improving rapidly, but their psychological preparation is not sufficient. The players are generally too nervous to eat breakfast, especially the new team captain and goalkeeper. Captain Weasley is so nervous that his face turns pale and his hands that hold the bread are shaking.

"Captain Ron! Cheer up!"

Harry sat on the bench and reached out to hold his trembling right hand. As a result, his own hand was also lifted up. The corner of his eye twitched slightly. "Ron, you are also a veteran player. You played very well throughout the season last year. Why are you so nervous?"

"But...but I'm the new captain. What if we lose today's game and Gryffindor loses the Quidditch Cup after winning it for five consecutive years? Hiss..."

Ron gasped and nearly fainted, his teeth chattering and his words slurring. "Everyone will blame me! Slytherin will bring back last year's weird tune and continue to sing it... Weasley is a bad captain, Weasley is a bad goalkeeper..."

He looked up at Harry in front of him, his eyes brightening: "How about I give you the captaincy, Harry?"

"Okay."

"what?"

"I agree, now go tell them."

"Uh……"

"I can talk to them alone."

"Don't you need to think about it again? I mean, at such a critical moment, I shouldn't drag you into this..."

"Then why don't you motivate your teammates!"

"..."

The new captain stood up and left in a trance. His panic disappeared strangely. Before he could come to his senses, he wandered around the long table in a daze, imitating the way Wood and Angelina looked in his memory. He greeted the players clumsily, made faces to ease their anxiety, and urged them to eat more.

The Gryffindor table became even more lively.

Sitting at the end of the long table, Loren was spreading mayonnaise on his bread while watching the clumsy Captain Weasley. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in his peripheral vision: "Hermione, look! Headmaster Dumbledore has appeared!"

Hermione opened her eyes wide and looked up. The old headmaster, who had not been seen for a week, was unkempt, with messy beard and hair. He looked a little haggard, but his deep blue eyes were surprisingly bright and he looked energetic.

Dumbledore felt the gaze from this side, looked over here, smiled, and winked at the two of them.

The headmaster had something to say to them, and Loren and Hermione clearly understood the invitation in his eyes. This was a unique communication mode between a good student and a professor, without dialogue. It was like the teacher asking students to recite a text in class, sometimes just a casual look at each other, and the two reached an agreement.

The two of them remained silent and continued to enjoy their breakfast.

Breakfast time ends quickly.

The Quidditch captain and the players gathered together and discussed tactics for a few quarters of an hour. When the time was almost up, they left the Great Hall amid the applause of many Gryffindors, walked out of the foyer and headed for the pitch.

Team members need to arrive early to prepare, change jerseys, go through broom security checks, adapt to the venue, and warm up for the flight...

The spectators were more leisurely, walking slowly towards the stadium, discussing today's game in groups of three or five. A few brave students inherited George and Fred's business, bringing portable gambling stalls to invite people to place bets, making the scene very lively.

Loren and Hermione fell behind slowly, and before they knew it, there was an old man with a white beard beside them. The three of them passed by the marble stairs and turned up at the same time, leaving the main group going to the stadium.

The three of them walked up the stairs, and Hermione couldn't help asking, "Professor, where have you been this week?"

Dumbledore paused for a moment and said, "Well... doing some security consulting work at the Ministry of Magic."

"Is the work too heavy?" Hermione looked at his messy beard and said softly, "You look a little tired."

"In fact, the work is easy. There are other reasons that led to this... some unimportant things. I will tell you more when I have the chance." Dumbledore clenched his right fist, put it against his mouth, and coughed twice guiltily.

I was mentally prepared before going to the Hog's Head. After all, he recruited Gellert to the school as a professor and took out the Resurrection Stone in front of Aberforth...

Well...Although Aberforth's academic performance is not as good as mine, he is much stronger physically.

Loren glanced at his face secretly, his eyes fell on his crooked nose. He didn't know if it was his illusion, but he always felt that one section of his nose was more crooked than before.

……

On the eighth floor of the castle, in the clean headmaster's office, Dumbledore, sitting behind his desk, stroked his beard, took out an exquisite white porcelain teapot, and poured three cups of steaming pumpkin juice with a strong aroma, which was slightly different from the pumpkin juice in the Hogwarts kitchen.

The Hog's Head was packed.

Loren looked at the glass window. Phoenix Fawkes was lying on the window sill, enjoying the rare winter sunshine. Outside the window, the clear blue sky was endless, and the bright sunlight illuminated the snow, making it sparkle. A little further away was the bustling Quidditch field. In the audience seats, the golden and red Gryffindor colors were connected into one.

Hermione picked up the teacup and blew gently. The moist steam escaped and fell on the surface of the delicate silver ornaments, creating a blur.

"Professor, what do you want from us?"

"Don't worry, tell me about your business first."

"Last week on the streets of Hogsmeade, Professor Slughorn..."

Dumbledore's reaction was somewhat flat. Just as Loren and the others had expected, the headmaster had already received the news: "Scrimgeour also came to me for this matter. He wanted to invite me to deal with Voldemort and invite other professors of Hogwarts to participate in the operation in an attempt to achieve a complete victory."

"It sounds like you said no."

"Yes, in my opinion, the Ministry of Magic does not have a clear understanding of Voldemort..."