days at Hogwarts

"Professor Sinistra, it has been thousands of years since the birth of magic and astronomy. Has no wizard ever explored the universe?"

"Of course there is, but there is no result."

"How to say?"

"About a few centuries ago, flying brooms became popular, and many people who were curious about the starry sky began their adventures. No matter how magical the magic is, the bodies of wizards are made of flesh and blood, and cannot withstand the thin oxygen and low temperatures. The resulting impact is that if you read the manual of a current flying broom carefully, you will find the flight altitude limit in the precautions."

"It sounds like there were heavy casualties."

"Overall, the casualties caused by the levitation spell are less."

……

"Professor Firenze, you centaurs are good at observing the stars. Have you ever tried to explore the universe?"

"The tentacles of magic have not yet spread beyond the land. Strictly speaking, they have not even spread to the ocean..."

……

After consulting two professors, Loren still didn't get answers to the questions he had been thinking about these days. However, he didn't feel disappointed. He said goodbye to the two professors and turned to leave. When he went upstairs, he met Professor Slughorn. He was holding the Daily Prophet in his hand, with a dazed expression and looked confused.

After saying hello to him briefly, Loren quickened his pace and left.

Back in the common room, the fire in the fireplace burned quietly, and the orange-red flames looked warm. It was a weekend afternoon, and there were few people in the common room, quiet and empty. Crookshanks lay on the chair by the window seat, curled up, and his ginger hair looked softer than the cushion next to him.

Perhaps smelling his scent, Crookshanks opened his eyes a little, looked up at him slowly approaching, and then closed them again, his fat belly rising and falling slightly with his breathing.

Loren bent down, picked up Crookshanks and sat him down on the seat. The fat ginger cat twisted on his legs and changed into a comfortable position, not even bothering to make a sound.

Loren smoothed the fur on its back and asked, "Why are you here? Where is your master?"

"Meow..." Crookshanks narrowed his eyes and answered softly.

"Out, where did you go?"

"Meow..."

"Outside."

"..."

Loren looked out the window. The distance was too far, so the figures of the students on the field were tiny. They were those who were not afraid of the cold and were willing to take the risk of catching a cold to participate in outdoor activities. There was indeed a row of tiny traces on the path in front of the greenhouse.

Probably Hermione's footprints.

Loren thought so and moved his gaze further away.

The leaves of the Whomping Willow fell off last month, leaving only bare branches with almost no snow. I don't know if it was cleaned by the Bowtruckle living on the tree or if it cleaned the branches itself by shaking its branches.

There was a pile of snow on the window sill, blown over by the wind. The small piece at the bottom had frozen into irregular-shaped ice cubes, which were crystal clear.

Loren's mind moved, and he hooked his fingers. The smallest piece of ice disappeared in the blink of an eye, and a refreshing coolness appeared in the palm of his hand.

He looked down at the piece of broken ice. It was not large in size and was quickly melted by his body temperature. A few drops of snow water flowed down the lines on his palm and fell onto Crookshanks' nose. The irritated kitten licked it a few times with its tongue and stared at him with a reproachful look on its face.

Loren immediately dried his hands and massaged the kitten's fur, apologizing repeatedly. Seeing that the kitten had a good attitude in admitting his mistake, Crookshanks whined twice but did not pursue the matter.

The magic he had just cast on the ice combined the summoning spell and the apparition, inducing spatial magic to affect the objects around him. After touring the starry sky that night, he had a new understanding of the concept of time and space, and used this to develop new magic.

It can be considered an advanced application of space magic. It does not require contact, but transcends the barriers of reality and directly transfers an object to the desired place in the concept of space. Currently, it can only be used on tiny objects at a very close distance.

It feels like there is a lot of development potential.

……

Principal's office.

Ron sat in front of his desk with a serious expression, his eyes moving left and right. The silverware on the table had been moved away, and now there were only two things in front of him, the Hufflepuff gold cup on the left and the Gryffindor sword on the right.

The gold cup is small and exquisite, with two finely processed pure gold handles on it and an exquisite little badger carved on the cup.

The sword has a sharp blade and the hilt is inlaid with a crystal clear red gem.

The spacious office was very quiet. Fawkes the phoenix stood motionless on his perch. Harry stood at the back with a nervous look on his face, staring at the golden cup.

Sitting in the headmaster's seat opposite was Professor Bagshot, who taught the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He was very interested in the golden cup and planned to ask Albus for the remains of the golden cup for research after the Horcrux was destroyed. At this moment, he was holding a teacup and observing silently, without urging or encouraging.

After taking a sip, Grindelwald frowned and put down the teacup in disgust.

The portraits of all the headmasters on the wall held their breath and huddled together. Even old Headmaster Foster and Old Headmaster Black put aside their past grudges and stared nervously at the blade of the sword. They wanted to destroy Voldemort's Horcrux as soon as possible, but they couldn't bear to see the founder's relics destroyed like this. Their emotions were very complicated at the moment.

Ron was still a little dazed. He even thought Dumbledore was joking with him at first. Why would the headmaster let the prophesied savior stand aside and ask himself, an ordinary student with above-average grades, to destroy the Horcrux?

Unfortunately, Dumbledore couldn't answer his question now, as he had been out for half an hour since he received the message.

Grindelwald and Harry didn't talk to him either, and there was no one to help him with the psychological support.

You can only make up your mind on your own.

"Uh……"

Ron swallowed and looked at the instructor in front of him tentatively, "Professor Bagshot, how about we do it at another time, or wait for Headmaster Dumbledore to come back, do you think it's okay?"

"Of course." The first half of Grindelwald's words made him feel relieved, but the second half made him nervous again, "Remember to take this golden cup back and familiarize yourself with it..."

If it was Voldemort himself standing in front of him, Ron might have gritted his teeth and rushed forward without hesitation. After all, he had overcome his fear and faced Voldemort in his first year. In order to buy time for his friends, he took the initiative to stay behind to cover their retreat. However, facing the evil black magic thing like the Horcrux, he always felt scared.

"Then let's get rid of it immediately."

Ron took a deep breath and gripped the Sword of Gryffindor tightly.

The sword had not become blunt in thousands of years, and it absorbed the magical power of the basilisk venom to destroy everything. The blade, with a cold glow, slashed across the golden cup, cutting a gap without much effort, and continued to cut along the gap smoothly without any obstruction.

Black mist filled with evil magic gushed out, and a sharp and shrill roar came from inside:

"Ron Weasley, the inferior, the cowardly Ron Weasley, do you think you can destroy me?! Your fragile soul is exposed to me without any hindrance, I can see it, I can see it...

"How ugly! Every time you see your brother's girlfriend, you hope she will kiss your face...

"You want to be intimate with the opposite sex, you want to be crazy, kiss your owl, kiss your aunt's photo, to fill the emptiness in your heart..."

With every word, the gushing black mist expanded a little, becoming thicker and deeper, and continued to spread outward, but was blocked inside by a layer of light blue flames, making a sizzling sound like snow water pouring into a fireplace.

Harry glanced at the calm Grindelwald, then at Ron, and clenched his wand anxiously.

Ron's forehead was covered with a layer of black mist, making him look dirty. The color on his face was fading quickly, turning it so pale that it was a little scary.

"You don't like that girl at all, but you didn't refuse! Your dirty, ugly soul is worthless! Hand it over! Give it to me..."