The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

Free-range hens were scattered in the yard, their sharp beaks pecking at the soil, and earthworms and grasshoppers were scurrying around. The piglets sneaked into the chicken coop and ate the wheat bran in their troughs. The goblins huddled behind the grass, tiptoeing away from the predators.

Harry approached quietly, quickly grabbed one of its feet, turned his wrist and shook it violently to stun it, then followed up with a backward throw, throwing the poor goblin straight out of sight.

Loren leaned on the eaves and told him: "I won't go to the old Black house one more time. Moody has already brought another bicorn horn there and is waiting for him to embed the horn at the bottom of the fireplace in the old house. , and then inject some magic power to activate it, and the spatial connection will be stable... Do you know how to use it?"

"clear."

"Don't move it casually after it's fixed."

"OK."

"Check the floo powder in the gill sacs of the fire dragon regularly, and remember to replenish it in time if it is exhausted."

"knew."

"Any more questions?"

"..."

Harry scratched his head and looked away from looking for the goblins. He couldn't help but ask: "The Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix prepared three materials. You only used one to successfully refine it. The remaining two... "

"The remaining two are of course my reward."

Loren answered confidently, turned around and patted his sleeves and walked into the house. The boys were throwing gnomes in the garden. Ginny took Hermione and chatted in the corner. Mrs. Weasley was preparing today's lunch, with the rich smell of stew. Floating throughout the house.

Molly clicked the slender knife with her wand, and the freshly baked bread automatically came up and cut itself into slices of suitable thickness. It fell into a wooden basket lined with oil paper. The kitchen utensils and dishes in the kitchen seemed to be well-trained and orderly. Soldier, and she was the commander.

Glancing at the kitchen to make sure he couldn't help, Loren moved a stool to the corner and sat down. He said to Hermione next to him: "Mrs. Weasley dried the mushrooms she used for the stew herself. We take some with us when we leave and give them to our family to try.”

"Yeah, I got it." Hermione was both funny and helpless. She was thinking about packing it before she even ate it.

Ginny nodded heavily: "You're welcome Hermione, bring more. No one in our family likes this, except Fleur..."

Hermione was immediately interested: "How are Bill and Fleur going?"

"They are making good progress and are in love sweetly! Fleur found a job in Gringotts, stayed at our house, went to work with Bill, worked together, and got off work together..." Ginny glanced at the kitchen quietly, "That's me. Things are not going well between Mom and Fleur. She doesn’t like this witch with a strange accent and a squeamish behavior.”

"There won't be any conflicts, right?"

"Not at all. As you know, there have been a lot of troubles recently. Mom and Fleur have been very busy recently. Bill and the others usually don't go home at noon..."

Before she finished speaking, she heard a brisk knock on the door from the hall. Ginny glanced at the two of them and ran over to open the door. Loren and Hermione were sitting where they were, and they could faintly hear their conversation.

"It's us, Bill and Fleur."

"A dark wizard would say the same thing."

"Then you ask questions."

"Which of you confessed your love first?"

"Uh... let's change the question."

"When was the first time you kissed?"

"..." Bill was silent for a moment, "Let's change the question."

"Did you stick your tongue out?"

"..." Bill was silent for a longer time this time, "Let... someone else ask the question."

Ginny criticized relentlessly: "You always refuse to answer, how do I know whether you are true or false?"

"Then you can change the question."

"How many times did you kiss in the backyard last night?"

"Seven times!" A female voice with an awkward accent but a beautiful voice replied, "Can you let us in, Ginny?"

"There are actually seven times, two more than what I saw..." Ginny opened the door and stepped aside, welcoming the two of them in, and received a head-punch from her brother.

Bill and Fleur came back before the food was served. Their appearance had changed little. Bill was tall and thin with a handsome face, and Fleur was slender and tall with silver hair.

The two greeted Loren and Hermione politely, and chatted around the dining table about the fireplace renovation in the morning. Loren briefly talked about the properties of magical materials, not because he wanted to hide the alchemy circle and magic patterns, but mainly because They can't understand it either.

Beauxbatons' alchemy subject was very strong, but Fleur didn't spend much energy on this subject. She and Hermione got together and chatted about other topics.

"Gabriy misses you very much. She originally planned to come over during the summer vacation, but the situation here is not very good..."

"After attending the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Black, I was extremely excited. If those things hadn't happened, Bill and I might have held a wedding..."

"Mrs. Weasley, I think she is very good..." Fleur glanced at the kitchen quietly and lowered her voice, "It's just that the cooking methods here are too crude. I miss French food even more."

"..."

The time for chatting passed quickly. When Molly came out with the soup pot, Bill hurriedly went up to help carry the dishes. Fleur hurriedly restrained her sitting posture and looked at Loren with a deliberately solemn expression:

"By the way, Loren, Ms. Maxim asked me to convey some information to you."

"Ms. Maxim?" Hermione repeated, a little confused.

"Yes." Fleur nodded, "Ms. Maxim asked me to tell you that the French government has been secretly investigating Beauxbatons recently and seems to be preparing some secret plan."

Loren felt a little surprised: "Investigating Beauxbatons? The French Ministry of Magic?"

"No, it's not the wizarding government, it's the Muggle government..." Facing everyone's surprised gazes, Fleur began to describe the information in detail.

The French Ministry of Magic was founded at the end of the 18th century. It was only in the 19th century that it barely got on track with the help of the International Federation of Wizards and Nicol Flamel. Compared with the long-standing wizarding regimes in other countries, their legal system seems a bit backward. International The influence is also pitifully low. There are a lot of wizards, but the influence is not as good as that of Bulgaria. At least they still have Quidditch.

The last time the French Ministry of Magic became famous was at the International Confederation of Wizards in New York. They were the first to stand up to support werewolves and made a splash on the rights of non-human magical creatures.

The last time it became famous was 70 years ago, when Paris was almost burned down by Grindelwald...

The French Ministry of Magic strictly abides by the Statute of Secrecy and has almost no contact with Muggles. For a long time, the Muggle government was unaware of their existence.

Until recent months, the Muggle government seemed to have learned about the existence of wizards from other channels, and began to carry out extremely secretive intelligence on the Pyrenees Mountains where Beauxbatons is located, and on Montmorency Street, where the French Ministry of Magic is located. investigation.

Fortunately, the wizards' magic was unreasonable. Under the continuous alarms of the Looking Glass, the wizards quickly captured several Muggle investigators and interrogated them.

It's just that Muggles are centuries ahead of wizards in their intelligence work. Superiors and subordinates communicate entirely through emails, with almost no real-person contact. The clues are cut off as soon as they reach the investigators.

"Who on earth delivered the news..." Hermione muttered quietly.

Although it is unclear who disclosed the information, judging from his behavior, as long as he is not Voldemort, and according to his temper, a noseless person with a snake face will not go to such trouble to contact Muggles...

Loren silently handed out the cutlery to Mrs. Weasley.

"well……"

Molly filled the glasses with juice one by one, and gave Ginny a look, gesturing for her to ask Harry to come back for dinner. She muttered: "First, the mysterious person made everyone panic, and then someone deliberately Violating the "Confidentiality Act", the world is getting weirder and weirder...

"Everywhere people are making some weird stuff and selling it for money, saying it can ward off You-Know-Who and Death Eaters. Can you imagine that stuff? The so-called self-defense potion is actually just broth with a little bit of Bamboo tuber pus. Water, and instructions for defensive spells, will actually make you lose your ears...

"Well, generally speaking, the only people who do these bad things are people like Mundungus Fletcher. They have never worked a good day in their lives, and now they take advantage of people's fear..."

Bill shrugged his shoulders: "Occasionally, there are truly vicious incidents. Didn't Dad confiscate a box of black magic looking glasses in Knockturn Alley? It was almost certain that some dark wizard placed it there, and almost sold it. A cursed cabinet for Muggles, an enchanted toilet seat..."

"Thank you..." Hermione took the jam handed over by Molly and sighed softly, "I have a hunch that one day wizards and Muggles will be honest with each other... The speed of the Internet and telephone transmission of news is too fast. An ocean can be crossed in seconds, and memory cancellation teams cannot erase all traces."

"Let's not talk about this anymore. School is about to start. Let's talk about your plans for the next school year. Have you decided on which advanced classes to take?" Molly has some kind of piety towards food. If possible, she is not willing to talk about it at the dinner table. Bring up those unappetizing topics.

"Not sure yet," Hermione replied.

"Don't be anxious, take your time, think clearly..."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, looked at the unfair parent quietly, and obviously gave the same answer. They had just been reprimanded last night.

Sensing the impolite looks from the two of them, Molly glared at them. Their report cards are all excellent. You can choose the advanced classes at will. You can exclude half of the subjects based on your grades alone. Can it be the same?

After eating and drinking, and packing some Weasley specialties, Loren and Hermione bid farewell to Mrs. Weasley.

Since there was no homework during the fifth grade summer vacation, Harry and Ron didn't do much to retain them.

The group agreed to meet at King's Cross Station.

After a walk in the Devon countryside, it was already evening when we returned to Hampstead.

The evening breeze of late summer blew against our faces, cool, and the tree-lined path seemed quiet and empty. The two people's steps were very slow, and their shadows were stretched very long.

"Why did Madam Maxime ask Fleur to deliver this news to us? There has been no progress in the investigation. We don't know who violated the confidentiality law, we don't know their purpose, we don't know anything..." Hermione pursed her lips and muttered in a low voice.

"It should be for the sake of Mr. Nico Flamel, and..." Loren paused and said thoughtfully, "Maybe it's not that the investigation has made no progress, but it's just that she is restricted by the French Ministry of Magic and she cannot disclose more information. So much news.”

"Ask Principal Dumbledore when school starts. He should have more detailed information."

"That's all."

…

"Hehe..."

Late at night, after a busy day, Loren finished washing up, yawned and returned to the bedroom. He lay down lazily on the bed, closed his eyes and was about to fall asleep.

The pendant on his chest suddenly heard a low-frequency vibration, and Loren fumbled to take out the copper nut.

Draco: "Professor Snape is preparing to hold a resurrection ceremony!"

…

London, 10 Downing Street.

In the personal room of the Prime Minister's Office, the Prime Minister, wearing a charcoal gray suit, stood upright in front of the wall hanging with portrait oil paintings, carefully observing a portrait of an ugly man in the corner.

The portrait is hanging its head, its eyelids are loosely closed, and it is breathing evenly.

The Prime Minister moved his eyes and looked at the wall clock on the other wall. It was almost midnight.

The pointer rotated at a constant speed, and the slight gears lulled people to sleep, but he did not feel sleepy at all. The thoughts in his mind were endless, excitement, excitement, fear, elation...

Do the leaders of those regimes in the history books suffer from insomnia on the eve of major historical events?

That queen must have had a similar experience...

"The time is almost up."

The Prime Minister glanced at the portrait on the wall and quietly left the office, maintaining a calm facial expression. He calmly nodded to his colleagues. There are not many assistants left behind, but there are quite a few, and the wizard Herbert Jolay is one of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a work station in the corner, and a proud smile appeared on his lips.

This assistant minister has a higher official position than Kingsley Shacklebolt, is less defensive, is not so incompetent, and is relatively easy to deal with. It just so happens that he is on duty today.

At this moment, Herbert Cholet was still drunk and unconscious, lying on the table defenselessly, like a normal worker taking a lazy nap.

As Minister Scrimgeour said, wizards are not invulnerable. Sharp blades can hurt their flesh and hard blows can break their bones. Similarly, alcohol can paralyze their brains and make them delirious.

The Prime Minister came to the end of the corridor on the other side and pushed the door open. The furnishings of this temporary office were exactly the same as his room, except that there were no ugly picture hangings on the wall and no magical portraits that could send messages to another world at any time.

The Prime Minister came to the desk and sat down, flipping through the documents in front of him. On them was the information, equity, capital, technology of the recently established missile company...

He couldn't understand these complicated parameters. The more he tried to concentrate on reading the numbers and words on the documents in front of him, the more confused he felt. The Prime Minister rubbed his brows, closed the documents, and closed his eyes to rest.

He was waiting for a call from the president of a distant country.

Muggles, that's what those people call us, right?

He still prefers the term human being,

Humanity will not sit still and wait for death.