The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

The green flames rose and expanded in the fireplace. Bellatrix, wearing a hooded cloak, walked out of the fireplace. The flames ignited the floating powder and expanded into a rapidly disappearing fire wave. The gorgeous light flashed by.

After walking out of the fireplace, the trance brought by the space shift just faded away. Bellatrix glanced at Snape standing next to her, and immediately turned to the tall chair not far away, and bowed to Voldemort who was sitting behind the chair and observing the wand: "Master, I'm back."

"Bellatrix, I hope you can bring me good news that makes me happy, but there is always a faint voice lingering in my ears..." Voldemort didn't even raise his head, his slender and pale fingers crossed the wand, and slowly uttered a cold voice, "It told me that you failed and didn't bring the thing I wanted..."

"I'm sorry, Master !"

Bellatrix knelt on the ground quickly, lowered her head, and then took out a brand new picture from her arms and held it high above her head. "I found the wand master Gregorovitch according to your instructions. He admitted that he had owned the old wand for a period of time, but it was stolen many years ago. He didn't know the true identity of the thief, so I could only copy this picture according to his memory..."

"Thief..."

Voldemort repeated coldly, his magical eyes fell on the picture, without using the wand and fingers, the thin picture floated up and slowly fell into his pale palm.

The Dark Lord looked down at the picture without saying a word. Snape, who was standing next to him, was silent, his eyes quietly lowered, and swept across the brand new picture, taking the blond boy squatting at the window with a bright smile into his eyes, and silently engraved it in his mind.

The Elder Wand... The Deathly Hallows...

So Voldemort sent Bellatrix to find this thing. No wonder he had kept it from me...

The firewood crackled and the flames in the fireplace swayed gently, causing the shadows in the room to sway together, as if some monster with claws and bloody mouths would jump out from under the wall and floor at any time and devour anyone.

Bellatrix lowered her head even lower, her voice filled with panic: "I have tortured Gregorovitch with all the means I can think of, but he really doesn't know the identity of the thief... He didn't say anything useful."

"Don't panic, dear Bella... Gregorovitch is just a weak wand maker. How could he safely hold a powerful treasure? When others know that he has collected the Old Wand, one of the Deathly Hallows, it is normal for it to be taken away."

Voldemort said softly, "I will not punish you for this. I still need you to find this despicable thief for me and bring back the wand that belongs to me."

As he spoke, Voldemort stretched out his pale palm and waved it upwards. Bellatrix immediately felt a steady force dragging herself up - it was the metal arm that was connected. Compared with the current host, it obeyed the maker's orders more.

The smooth surface of the silver-white arm exuded a bright light, emitting a mysterious and gentle breath, slowly dispelling Bellatrix's long-running body and soothing her long-term anxious mind, as if some holy power was purifying her.

Snape showed a surprised look, and Bellatrix's eyes were full of gratitude. She seemed to be completely unaware that a part of her limbs concealed mysterious magic, and this magic was controlled by another person.

Voldemort, sitting on the chair, was very satisfied with her reaction, with a bit of approval on his face: "The search for the Elder Wand is not a failure, it's just that there are more twists and turns than we expected. I have enough patience... Bellatrix, now tell me another piece of information about the wand."

"Another piece of information?"

Bellatrix glanced at Snape next to her, with a subtle look in her eyes, "Yes, Master, I interrogated Gregorovitch about the information about the twin wands, and he told me personally that if the two wands use closely connected wand cores, unexpected situations may occur..."

Listening to the female voice in front of him slowly revealing the information he was familiar with, Snape's neck stiffened for a moment, and a chill suddenly rose on his back.

Voldemort was testing himself. Even if he used the Horcrux as bait, he didn't completely trust himself...

If the information Bellatrix told him was different from his own, there would be a body in the ditch outside the house tomorrow morning, a body of a Death Eater spy...

"I already know these interesting situations. The wand that has been with me for decades is unwilling to be an enemy of Harry Potter..."

Voldemort turned his head slowly, "Severus has already found out through Ollivander, so I need to change a wand. Before finding the old wand, do you have any suggestions, Severus?"

"Just change a wand when killing Harry Potter. If you agree, I am willing to offer my wand at that important moment..." Snape had a blank expression on his face, and he handed over his wand respectfully.

"The core of the wand is made of snake nerve and the outer skin is made of birch. It's really nice, but the length is a little inappropriate..."

Voldemort was very satisfied with his attitude. He took the wand, looked at it, and handed it back. "Make good use of its power. The headmaster of Slytherin College needs this wand, and the professor of potions needs this wand."

"A loyal Death Eater also needs this wand." Snape bent down slightly and took the thirteen and a half inch wand with a calm expression.

"Then, rest early, two loyal Death Eaters."

"Yes, Master."

"..."

The sharp voice was mixed with some kind of cold breath, and the method set off a sourceless breeze in the room, causing the firelight and long shadow to sway a few times.

Footsteps sounded in the quiet corridor of the attic. The tall and thin middle-aged man's face was hidden in the dim shadows. His hard-soled leather shoes stepped on the wooden floor unhurriedly. The dull echo seemed to be the only sound in the whole house. At the sound of the voice, Snape, wearing a black robe, walked toward the bedroom deep in the attic.

After walking all the way back to his bedroom and closing the door, making sure that all prying eyes were blocked from the door, the double agent, who had always been on guard but remained silent, suddenly relaxed and let out a long breath.

He waved his wand to light up the room, and a dozen candles on the ceiling complemented each other, making his shadow on the ground drag longer.

Snape sat looking at the soft bed and rubbed his brows. Fatigue was spreading in the room like a tide, but he couldn't sleep peacefully. He was in the same house with the Dark Lord and Death Eaters. Leave one ear open.

Fortunately, school will start soon.

…

August 24, noon.

On the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid's Hut.

Loren was sitting on the steps in front of the wooden house, holding a piece of browned and crispy roasted pork belly in his hand, directing Hagrid to work.

If the mutton is not marinated long enough, the knife edge needs to be cut deeper to facilitate the flavor.

It took almost a day to return to Hogwarts from the foot of Ben Nevis. It took Hagrid three hours to convince the centaurs to sell them five little lambs that had not yet grown up. He was busy until midnight. Clean, add marinade and marinate overnight.

Grawp couldn't wait that long, so he began to pester Hagrid right after breakfast.

In the end, Loren couldn't stand it anymore and persuaded Hagrid to start baking in advance. After all, it was really eye-catching for the giant hill-like giant to push and act coquettishly.

The mutton is pierced with iron skewers, held on the grill above the flames, the limbs are stretched out freely, rotated leisurely, and slowly roasted to allow the fat to emerge from under the skin, and the aroma wafts away one by one.

Because Hagrid's transfiguration was not sophisticated enough, he used the classic roasting method, which basically did not involve magic and relied entirely on manual turning. Fortunately, the hybrid giant was full of energy, and the weight of a few lambs was nothing to him.

The supervisor Yaya was lying next to him, his tail swaying back and forth in the heat and unwilling to open his mouth to breathe, for fear that he would not be able to contain his saliva.

Grawp was restless, and the aroma almost brought out the smell in his brain. However, the wizard said that it was not yet cooked. He was so anxious that he had to vent his anger through the trees next to the hut. Sixteen feet tall enough to reach most of the treetops, he used his palms as big as parasols to dig out bird's nests. Within a few hours, there were dozens of mass murders around him.

Some of the meatless ribs were used to make soup. I threw in a few radishes and simmered it for a few hours. After opening the lid, the rich meaty aroma with a faint sweetness penetrated straight into my brain. The soup was milky and white in color. Thick, with a layer of clear suet floating on it.

Hermione picked up the bowl and blew it gently to cool it down. When she took a sip, the delicious fragrance filled her teeth.

She exhaled a long, comfortable breath, and when she saw the milky-white soup in the bowl, she couldn't help but wonder: "Why is it so white?"

Loren waved the spoon and looked excited: "It's milk! I added milk!"

"..."

This man is sick again.

Hermione lowered her head silently and continued to fill the pot with mutton soup.

There were five lambs in total. The two little wizards, the hybrid giant and the dog ate one, and the other four went into Grawp's stomach. He still looked unsatisfied after eating.

After dinner, Loren and Hermione walked along the path to the castle. They were going to submit a task to Dumbledore.

A gentle breeze blew across her cheeks, mixed with the breath of summer, causing the girl's curly hair to sway. The wind in the forest was somewhat different from the wind in the mountains. It was drier, and the smell of green grass was stronger, with a hint of late summer. It’s muggy, but the familiar scenery is all you can see, which makes people feel comfortable.

Loren held up a glass jar and swung it away, not caring about the life and death of the two hamsters inside: "We might as well not go back to Grimmauld Place at all. We will stay at the school until the term starts. Anyway, our luggage is in the pendant. No need to take the express train.”

Hermione glanced at the two fainting hamsters: "But we still have to go shopping in Diagon Alley, have you forgotten?"

Loren smiled and said, "Let Mrs. Weasley buy it for us, and then let Harry and the others take it back to school."

Hermione was moved, but still a little hesitant: "This does not comply with the opening procedures. Will Professor McGonagall agree?"

"Just ask her."

"What?"

"Look!" Loren pursed her lips, "It's right in front."

…

Professor McGonagall stood quietly outside the quaint and heavy castle foyer, looking at the Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic through simple black-framed glasses. A silent pressure passed through the lenses, and his eyes were extremely penetrating. Dolores Umbridge had to look away.

After a long time, Umbridge forced out a smile uncomfortably, with a cloying sweetness in her voice: "Professor McGonagall, we also want to make Hogwarts a better place so that students can enjoy it better." education.”

"This is an internal matter within Hogwarts, and the Ministry of Magic has no right to interfere." Professor McGonagall said calmly, with a cold expression.

Feeling her contempt, Umbridge became angry and even gave up the smile she had maintained: "The Ministry of Magic is the British wizarding government. We have the power to govern the magic schools in the territory. You must cooperate with our education policy unconditionally!"

"When Hogwarts was founded, there was no Ministry of Magic."

"you!!"

Umbridge looked extremely uncomfortable, and even wanted to take out her wand and teach this rude guy a lesson, but thinking of her status as a senior professor, she gritted her teeth and swallowed her depression: "Professor McGonagall, I must remind you that our The policy has been unanimously approved by the school board. If you openly resist the Ministry of Magic's intervention in the school, the school board will cut off teaching funds for the new school year. "

"Hogwarts has started a financial reform plan three years ago. If you have noticed Hogwarts' financial reports in recent years, you should have noticed this..."

When Professor McGonagall talked about this, the expression on her face was calm and calm, which was in sharp contrast to the stunned pink toad, "Everything we do is to not be restrained by anyone or any force. If you want If you use money to force Hogwarts into submission, you are making the wrong decision."

Umbridge's face was twisted, and her chest heaved violently with anger.

You also said that you are not Dumbledore's people, and that you have no intention of overthrowing the Ministry of Magic. If it were not to support Dumbledore in seizing power, how could you have started financial reforms a few years in advance!

A bunch of ambitious guys!

After a brief silence, Umbridge slowly calmed down her breathing and smiled her sickly sweet smile again: "So have you found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

Professor McGonagall couldn't help but frown slightly.

"Mad-Eye is so busy that he can't find anyone, right..." Umbridge pinched her throat pretentiously, "An accident like that happened in last year's Goblet of Fire. Everyone knew that Mad-Eye was killed by a minibus. The news that Ty Crouch has been detained for a whole year and the rumors that the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship at Hogwarts is cursed has become even more terrifying. No one will dare to accept your invitation, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Minister Fudge has considered the special circumstances of Hogwarts and considerately recommends a suitable candidate to you."

"who?"

"Of course..." Umbridge chuckled a few times, twisted her fingers and pointed them straight at herself, "Me!"