days at Hogwarts

Harry stood in front of the monster statue and started guessing the password from the hazelnut chocolate.

After saying the names of more than a dozen candies in one breath, the statue cracked open, revealing the entrance behind it. Harry didn't know which command he matched, so he stepped forward and stepped onto the spiral staircase.

"Boom boom boom——"

"Please come in."

Pushing open the door of the headmaster's office, Dumbledore in a nightgown came out from the inner room, his shaggy beard tied up with a cloth bag, and his face was kind: "It's Harry, it's so late, what's the matter?"

Harry didn't know what to say, so he walked into the room slowly and sat down at his desk. He watched the headmaster pour honey tea for him, raised his eyes and said, "Sir, about what happened that night..."

"You said."

"I……"

Harry paused, looked into those deep blue eyes, mustered up the courage to whisper, "I still want to see my mother again, but... can you lend me the Resurrection Stone?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, I can't agree to that."

"why?"

"The Resurrection Stone cannot really resurrect the dead. Remember the story of the Grim Reaper and the three brothers? The pain that is right in front of you but out of reach will drive you crazy. You have experienced that feeling." Dumbledore said softly, sighed, and stared at the steam rising from the teacup, as if he had also experienced that feeling.

"..."

Harry fell silent. The image of the moonlight gathered in his mind, and his brows felt slightly itchy.

He would give everything if he could really feel his mother's kiss.

The headmasters' portraits on the wall were already asleep, but if you looked closely, you would see that the old headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black only half-closed his eyes, occasionally opening them to peek at Harry below. On the shelf, Fawkes curled up in the socket of the Sorting Hat, blinking his bright black eyes.

Dumbledore continued, "Although I have not seen the world of the dead, I sometimes wonder, if such a world really exists, is the Resurrection Stone a disturbance to the living while summoning the dead to comfort them?"

"..."

Harry lowered his head, holding the steaming tea, speechless.

"but……"

The headmaster's words lifted his heart again. His eyes lit up slightly, like a pitiful young animal. Dumbledore paused and said, "I understand how you feel, Harry. Longing is like a fire, and the brief reunion is dry wood and candle oil. You have been ignited now."

Harry looked at him expectantly.

"Perhaps I can lend you something else, I hope it can bring you some comfort."

"what?"

"Mirror of Erised." Dumbledore waved towards the inner room, and a very imposing mirror floated out. It was almost taller than a person, with gorgeous carvings on the golden frame and supported by two claw-shaped feet underneath.

Harry subconsciously looked over, but because he was at the side of the mirror, he could only see the ordinary reflection of the room. Then he looked at the strange inscription engraved on it, and subconsciously said to himself in reverse: "I can make people see the most urgent and strongest desire in their hearts."

Harry looked at the headmaster with a complicated expression: "But..."

"Yes, I once said that indulging in unreal dreams is useless." Dumbledore looked at the student in front of him. He had unknowingly grown taller than his shoulders. "But you are no longer a first-year student. I believe that you already have the ability to distinguish between reality and illusion. You will not miss Quidditch training because of the magic mirror."

"..."

Harry felt a little embarrassed and resisted the urge to stand right in front of the mirror. He put the Mirror of Erised into the storage scales, then pretended to be calm and took a sip of the teacup.

Dumbledore looked at his twitching eyebrows, but did not expose him. He chuckled and said, "There is still some time before lights out. I just want to talk to you about Voldemort and the Horcruxes."

"The snake tree of Ilvermorny?"

"Severus has already left for Massachusetts, but I'm not talking about the tree, but the other Horcruxes."

Harry was a little confused. The information they currently had just confirmed Professor Slughorn's memory. Voldemort split his soul into seven parts. Excluding the main soul, there were six Horcruxes in total, five of which had been destroyed.

"Are there any other Horcruxes?"

Dumbledore did not answer, but explained the principle of Horcrux in detail: "The key to making a Horcrux is to split the soul, which requires the maker to commit murder maliciously and not feel remorse for it. The evil and cruel behavior causes the murderer's soul to split, and then a specific ritual is used to peel off the soul and seal it in a specific object...

"Voldemort created Horcruxes many times, just like constantly extracting beams from a building block tower. We all know that everyone's soul is limited. His actions destroyed the soul and made it shaky. Do you know what this means?"

"..." Harry frowned and thought about what the headmaster had suggested.

"This means that his soul is in a very unstable state and could break the balance at any time. Crossing the boundary between life and death would force his soul to split, and he himself might not even be aware of it."

Harry vaguely realized something, raised his head, and said palely: "I... I don't understand what you mean."

"Seventeen years ago, on the night Voldemort attacked your parents, such an accident occurred."

With the sound of rain falling outside the window, Dumbledore's words shattered his last fantasy. "He first murdered your parents without any guilt, and then was killed by his own killing curse. This made his soul completely unbalanced, and separated a piece that he did not expect."

Harry's pupils contracted and he looked horrified. He wanted to touch the scar on his forehead, but he felt as if his arms were filled with lead and he couldn't lift them.

His lips trembled and he said with difficulty: "The fragment is attached to my body."

"Harry, listen to me—"

Dumbledore wanted to say something but was interrupted by Harry. He was immersed in his own world and could not hear the outside voice at all: "No wonder, no wonder! No wonder we can see each other's memories, no wonder our souls are connected, no wonder the prophecy says we are destined enemies, no wonder our wands have a mysterious connection... no wonder mother said we will meet again."

He spoke to himself in a trembling voice, and choked up at the end. Harry looked up at the old headmaster, tears streaming down his face: "Is this why you took so much trouble to teach me?"

Dumbledore had a complicated expression: "Harry, listen to me——"

"I am also a living Horcrux. If you want to destroy Voldemort, you must kill me!"

Harry cried out in disbelief. He found it hard to accept the truth, so he turned around and strode out of the office.

The oak door was pushed hard, making a loud bang.

Fawkes slowly raised his head from inside his hat and uttered a doubtful hum. Old Headmaster Black in the picture frame on the wall opened his eyes and said gloatingly, "I don't see how he has grown up. He is still so impulsive and won't listen to other people's advice, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore took a sip of tea, feeling quite mixed emotions:

"Why can't you just listen to me?"

……

First day of school after Easter.

Loren got up very early, finished washing up in a few minutes, and changed into a brand new thin spring coat, looking like a handsome model student. It took him a long time to stand in front of the mirror and admire himself. When he was ready to go out, Neville had already woken up.

"Good morning Loren."

"Good morning, Prefect Longbottom."

"..." Neville made his bed and glanced at the bed next to him, "Do you remember when Harry came back last night?"

"I go to bed earlier than you."

"I see."

"Let's go, see you later."

"Goodbye."

He hurried downstairs, but was still a step too late. The girl was already waiting on the sofa.

Hermione hadn't had time to start her morning reading yet. When she saw him, she raised her eyebrows in surprise: "You got up so early today?"

"Let's go and have breakfast!"

Loren put his arm around her shoulders and walked out, leaving the portrait hole and going downstairs. He greeted the portraits and ghosts along the way. He was visibly happy. Hermione tilted her head to look at him, a little puzzled: "Any good news?"

"School has started. I'm happy."

"..."

"I love learning, isn't it? As long as I think about being able to go back to class, I am happy from the bottom of my heart."

"Do you believe it yourself?"

"Hey, hey..." Loren walked behind her, put his hands on the girl's shoulders and shook her left and right, "There is a Defense Against the Dark Arts class this afternoon. Just think about it, if I use the Elder Wand in front of Professor Bagshot, his expression will definitely be very interesting!"

"If you get this excited in class, I don't know how Professor Bagshot will react, but you'll probably get detention or be made to copy the textbook."

"hiss……"

Thinking of the thickness of the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, Loren immediately restrained his expression.

There were only a few students in the auditorium, sitting in groups of three or four at the long table of the college. Those who could still get up early on the first day of school after the holidays were all acquaintances. Even if I couldn't call out their names, I could recognize their faces.

There were only two professors, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, sitting in the main guest seats. The situation with the others was unclear, but Dumbledore was definitely sleeping in.

The breakfast is as rich as ever, and the bacon and fried eggs are freshly cooked, and the bread is just out of the oven, hot, and tastes the best.

What Loren was most interested in were the fruits, which were placed on the plate one by one. The flesh was plump and the fruity aroma was fragrant. The surface of the peel was stained with water droplets left from washing.

He was tired of those orange-flavored apples and strawberry-flavored pears. The familiar taste in his memory was paired with another familiar flavor, and there was always an indescribable sense of confusion. It couldn't be said to be unpalatable, but it felt very subtle and weird.

After this period of exploration and experimentation, Loren developed another method to optimize the taste and appearance of the fruit without changing its essence.

The strawberry-flavored pear is a little hard to accept, but the strawberries as big as pears are different, and every bite has the perfect taste of strawberry tips, giving people unprecedented satisfaction.

"If a strawberry looks like a strawberry and tastes like a strawberry, then it is a strawberry.

"This is not an ordinary strawberry. This is a strawberry transformed by the Deathly Hallows..."

"..."

Listening to the mumbling in her ear, Hermione looked helpless and thought he was a fool.

But strawberries are delicious.

Different from the frolicking here, a different atmosphere lingered not far from the long table. Ginny glanced at the darkness under Harry's eyes, handed him the cut pie, and said with concern: "Eat something, Harry, you have classes all morning."

"..."

Harry looked at the girl's pretty face, pursed his lips and shook his head: "Thank you, Ginny, but I really have no appetite."

"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

Ginny put down the pie and wanted to test the temperature of his forehead. She didn't have time to wipe the oil off her hands, so she followed her mother's movements in her memory and put her forehead against his. She didn't know if this temperature was considered high. "Did you catch a cold last night? After breakfast, let's go to the infirmary to see Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry only felt the girl's forehead was very hot, and her concerned eyes were so bright that he dared not look directly at her.

How should I tell her that there is nothing wrong with his body, but he won't live long, his death is already certain.

After leaving the headmaster's office last night, he had been wandering around the castle floors until lights out before returning to the common room. He sat alone in front of the window until the early morning, and finally gave up the idea of ​​evading his responsibilities.

For the peace of the wizarding world and the stable lives of countless wizards, if only his life had to be sacrificed, it would really be a very worthwhile deal.

Ginny is a very nice girl.

But he couldn't feel at ease being with her. If the ending of separation was already destined, the better things were now, the more painful it would be to recall them in the future.

Harry didn't want Ginny to feel bad.

"How are you feeling? Do you want to ask Professor McGonagall for leave?"

"……No."

"Is it because you haven't finished your homework yet? Which subject? Is it urgent to hand it in?"

"……no."

Ginny had Weasley blood in her veins, and she was a Gryffindor girl after all. She asked gently but got no answer, and she became increasingly irritable. She looked at the man with a depressed look, and suddenly slammed the table, "What's wrong with you? Speak!"

The people near the long table suddenly became quiet. Everyone focused on eating in tacit understanding, only glancing over here secretly out of the corner of their eyes.

Loren looked thoughtful.

"..."

Harry opened his mouth, but no explanation came out, nor could he say goodbye.

Ginny was a little angry when she saw him like this. She asked him to think it over carefully and calm down and talk again during lunch.

The skylight in the auditorium opened, and the sound of howling wind and rain came into the house, followed by the sound of flapping wings. It was the owl postman.

Hermione took the package from Hanhan and unfolded the Daily Prophet with a slightly damp corner. The other students in the auditorium also saw the front-page headline of today and exclaimed one after another.

"The Ministry of Magic recently confirmed that with the help of Dumbledore and a mysterious wizard, the mysterious man suffered serious injuries and has now secretly escaped. The Death Eaters have gone dormant again, and the whereabouts of the relevant criminals are still unknown. Senior Auror Alastor Moody calls for constant vigilance. A wanted notice is now issued to the wizarding community to collect clues...

"The Wizengamot submitted relevant information to the International Confederation of Wizards and issued a warning to wizard governments around the world that the You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters might flee to other countries...

"The Ministry of Magic has retaken its headquarters building. The current Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, has stated that the Ministry of Magic will be reopened from today and will resume normal functions. Wizards who need to handle business are requested to make an appointment in advance and arrive on time..."