days at Hogwarts

The entire venue was converted from an office. Passing through the chatting area where Slughorn and the guests were, the center of the room was decorated as a dance floor. The Weird Sisters band was playing in the front, and many young wizards were gathered nearby.

I don't know if it was the band's bad taste, but they were playing Celestina Warbeck's "A Pot of Hot Love", a popular love song in the wizarding world with a strong jazz flavor, which just didn't match the style Slughorn wanted to show.

The dining area is located on the side of the venue away from the stage. It is rather deserted and there are almost no people.

Loren and Hermione found a corner seat with a good view and sat down.

Perhaps because the party was held too far from the kitchen, the ordering method was not adopted. The way to get food here was to wave to the house-elf waiter, or to go to the long table in front and get it yourself.

There were all kinds of food on the long tables, most of which were small and delicate dishes such as pan-fried foie gras, baked snails, and Marseille fish soup. The most eye-catching was the table of lobsters. A whole row of big guys with red shells lay on the ice, their backs cut open to reveal the crystal white meat...

There was no bread or biscuits to fill the stomach, and even the desserts were in small portions, the kind that Loren could stuff five or six in one bite.

The ingredients and workmanship are luxurious, very much in line with the style of a potion master.

Loren didn't believe that Professor Slughorn didn't want to show off.

"Is there anything you want to eat?"

"I also can."

"Then sit here and wait for me."

Loren stood up and left the small round table, walking towards the long table.

On the way, I met a house-elf whose name I couldn't remember. I borrowed his tray and, based on the principle of taking less and more often, I selected a few dishes that looked good. I took two portions of each, put them on the tray and brought them back to the small round table.

It's hard to comment on the taste of the food. It's definitely not bad, but it doesn't match its exquisite and tempting presentation. It was slowly eaten while accompanied by the performance of the Weird Sisters and sparkling wine.

The sky outside the window darkened completely, and the lights in the conference hall became brighter and brighter.

Harry and Ron also arrived.

Slughorn greeted him enthusiastically again. With previous experience, he did not give Harry a chance to refuse this time. He grabbed his arm without saying a word, dragged him to Elder Worpple, and enthusiastically introduced this savior to everyone.

Harry subconsciously dragged Ginny along, and the red-haired girl looked helpless.

Ron and Lavender stood in a corner, absentmindedly watching the Weird Sisters sing. Lavender glanced to the side from time to time, and when she saw her companion turning her head, she quickly retracted her gaze and looked straight ahead firmly. Ron opened and closed his mouth several times, wanting to say something but stopping himself...

It’s hard to believe that these two carefree people could act so reserved and introverted.

Draco and Nott went to greet Slughorn first when they entered the room, but the professor was busy introducing his friends to Harry and showed little interest in the greetings from the two descendants of Death Eaters.

As more and more students and guests arrived, the party gradually became lively.

Loren also saw Seamus and Dean. He didn't know how they got in, but after walking around, they came to the dining area and started eating, waving their knives and forks more powerfully than they did their wands.

At eight o'clock in the evening, the Weird Sisters began playing dance music, starting with a fast-paced tango.

Pairs of male and female dancers entered the dance floor, hugged each other's waists, and spun to the rhythm with their skirts flying.

Slughorn and the older wizards did not enter the venue, tacitly leaving the stage to the young people. They watched with smiles in the audience, their eyes flashing with nostalgia and memories.

They were mainly students in grade 6 and 7, about 16 or 17 years old. The boys wore formal suits like adults and had a few well-formed mustaches on their upper lips. The girls mostly wore silk dresses with full breasts. When they walked, their waists swayed slightly and their skirts moved, revealing their slender, straight calves.

The youthful atmosphere created by hormones seemed to be some kind of wonderful magic, which greatly improved the dancing skills of the students in the venue.

In the aftermath of the last bar of the opening song, while other couples were kissing, a Slytherin girl, supported by her dance partner, spun on the spot for more than a dozen times, her skirt fluttering like a swan with its wings spread. Her dazzling and beautiful figure attracted the attention of the entire audience.

When the song ended, the thunderous cheers and applause fell silent for a few seconds before erupting, causing the candlelight to flicker slightly.

Loren and Hermione also applauded from the audience.

They had a clear understanding of their own dancing skills and reached a consensus when the music started, and did not join in the excitement of the opening dance.

The overture sounded again, the melody still with a brisk rhythm, the dance floor became lively again, the sound of high heels blended into the drum beats, the strings screamed at the top of their lungs, and the band's guitarist swung his long hair up and down like a madman, making people worry that he would throw his head off in the next second and join the Headless Horseman Club that Nick had been thinking about.

Loren and Hermione were concentrating on appreciating their dancing. Hermione was dumbfounded by the quick spins and high splits in high heels, and thought that these moves were more difficult to learn than the most obscure and profound Transfiguration.

Fortunately, tonight was not a dance show. After about ten minutes, the music stopped and the guitarist who had been shaking his head staggered off the stage, and was replaced by a violinist with a melancholy look in his eyes.

He glanced at the audience and sighed imperceptibly. He placed the bow on the strings and the melody flowed out like a spring, soft and soothing.

Loren stood up and straightened his collar, which was not wrinkled. He bent down and extended his hand to the girl, inviting her: "Can I invite you to dance, Miss Granger?"

Hermione pursed her lips into a faint smile, her eyes sparkling, and held out her hand.

They walked into the dance floor hand in hand. Such a gentle melody did not require any dancing skills. Like other men and women, they embraced each other, holding each other's waists and swaying slowly, their cheeks pressed together, whispering in each other's necks, and rubbing their ears...

The distance was close, the movements were intimate, and the sparkling wine that he had just drunk was evaporated in his body, burning his skin through his hot breath, and his body temperature rose unconsciously.

They have been dating officially for two years, and it's not like they haven't had intimate moments like this, but on a night like this, with this kind of melody, the sweet aroma of fermented grapes wafts everywhere, lingering on the tip of their noses and turning into the smell of a love potion.

Hermione felt herself getting tipsy.

Should we kiss when the music ends?

No, there were so many people watching, she didn't want to be watched like Lavender.

But the people who danced before...

Hermione's eyes flickered across Loren's lips and lingered there involuntarily.

Such lips were actually a bit thin and had clear boundaries. After eating several servings of velvet ice cream, her lips were a little red and full of moisture. She couldn't help but want to try it.

Hermione came back to her senses abruptly and looked away uncomfortably. She felt that if she continued to let her thoughts run wild, she might easily make a mistake.

"What are you thinking?"

"nothing."

"Ok?"

"nothing!"

The men and women in the venue were more unrestrained than them. They touched and pinched each other while dancing. Some couples had already tried more explicit actions, such as Cormac McLaggen next door, who was biting the lips of the girl in his arms unscrupulously.

Hermione's face became redder and redder, almost bleeding.

She tried to divert her attention abruptly, but the human brain does not obey the command of subjective will. The girl looked at his lips moving slightly while he spoke, and could not help but pursing her lips. Her heart seemed to be scratched by a small brush, but it could never scratch the itch.

The music enters the finale.

Loren looked at the changing expressions on the little witch's face and found it a little funny.

What's there to worry about? There will be many days like this in the future.

He stopped and the little witch looked up at him, her eyes flickering with a gleam, as if containing a hint of joyful anticipation, as if harboring some uneasy hesitation. Her past habits made her purse her lips slightly when she was in such a complicated mood, and she subconsciously pursed her lips together.

However, Loren did not give her a chance. He lowered his head slightly and sucked on the softness that felt like peach petals.

With the sweetness of velvet ice cream.

……

Half an hour before the lights in the castle were turned off, the lively Christmas party ended.

Watching Slughorn escorting his guests to the door one by one, Harry deliberately fell behind. He had already asked Ginny to go back to the common room first, and was taking his time to say goodbye to Ron and Lavender.

There are signs that these two are getting back together.

Harry put away his subtle expression and looked back at the venue. Only a few house-elves were left cleaning the room. As for Loren and Hermione, they left in the middle of the party, saying they were going to the tower to study astronomy.

Only a fool would believe their excuses.

"Oh, Harry, why are you still here?" Slughorn saw off the last guest and turned around to see the savior. His face, flushed with alcohol, smiled kindly and amiably. "Go back and have a rest. Tomorrow morning when you open your eyes you will see the Christmas present I prepared for you. You will definitely like it!"

"Sir, I have some questions for you..." Harry paused and added, "About last week's paper, I think it can be improved a little bit."

"I remember! Gorbarot's Third Law, right? My dear child, it's already great that you can write such an article at your age--" Slughorn suddenly thought of Loren, and said after a pause, "Indeed, there are still some places that can be revised. Perhaps we can finish it together and submit it to some journals after school starts. Among the guests just now is an editor from a publishing house..."

"..."

Harry listened to his story quietly, showing expressions of amazement and praise at appropriate times, which made the old professor feel even better.

Slughorn's walrus-like beard trembled with laughter: "...Don't worry, Harry, we have plenty of time. It's too late today. How about coming to see me tomorrow?"

"I have another quick question that won't take much time."

"Then ask, my dear child, ask!"

"Sir, I want to ask you if you know...Horcruxes."

This word seemed to reveal some kind of repressive magic. The moment he heard this word, Slughorn froze. His ruddy round face turned visibly pale, and the wrinkles squeezed out of his kind smile were quickly flattened, and his expression turned cold.

He squeezed out a hoarse voice from his throat: "What did you say?"

Harry paused for a moment, then asked slowly and firmly, "I want to ask, do you know anything about Horcruxes, sir?"

"Dumbledore... no, Dumbledore already knows. He won't let you come to me."

Slughorn's eyebrows were knitted together. He stared at Harry intently, and complex emotions flashed in his deep eyes: shock, fear, guilt, shame...

Harry found it a little strange why Slughorn thought so, since it was Dumbledore who asked him to come to him.

"Yes, you are the savior, you must kill him, you need that memory...

"I feel dishonorable, and I'm afraid he'll find out I helped you.

"You don't ask for much, I know, I know..."

Slughorn muttered incoherently, fumbling in his breast pocket for his handkerchief, wiping his sweaty brow and pale face, his old hands trembling constantly.

"Go find Dumbledore, he will give you the answer!"

Slughorn said these words tremblingly, and immediately pushed Harry out the door, leaving him alone despite his knocks.

……

North Tower.

The cold night wind swept through the dark forbidden forest, across the vast field, and roared towards the rooftop, but it failed to catch up with the young man and woman who turned away, and hit the castle wall in vain, breaking into a few wisps of cold air.

It was lights-out time, and there was no one in the corridors or on the stairs. The portraits and ghosts were also getting ready to go to sleep, and the castle was completely quiet.

On the way back to the common room, Loren held the girl's hand with one hand, and with the other hand, he passed his fingers through two thin straps and held two high-heeled crystal shoes, swaying.

Hermione was still wearing the same dress, but she was wearing Loren's coat, which she had found in the pendant. She didn't have the habit of randomly piling clothes in the pendant, let alone shoes. The pair of shoes on her feet were also Loren's, but the size was obviously too big, and the heels drooped with every step.

"Ask a question."

"You said."

"Why can't I put my high heels in the pendant?"

"Don't you like this pair of shoes very much? Let me let you touch them more."

Hermione recalled the scene between the two of them in the tower not long ago, and couldn't help blushing. She snorted at the man twice, as if in protest.

Loren didn't care at all.

What kind of punishment is this? They are new shoes that have only been worn for a few hours. How could they be dirty? He doesn't even mind the feet of the owner of the shoes being dirty.

It is white, soft and tender, and feels great.

Hermione could still suppress her shyness when there was no one on the road, but she became deflated when she reached the door of the common room.

Behind the next corner is the portrait hole. The girl scrambled to get her shoes back, but someone with a bad temper refused to give them to her, and there was another round of fighting and chasing.

The Fat Lady's expression was bland, nothing surprising.

That’s how it is between couples, holidays are all about being intimate.