The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

It's the weekend again in a blink of an eye.

Ever since Slughorn revealed the information about the conflict, Loren and the others had been looking for an opportunity to chat with Dumbledore and get some information from the principal. It's a pity that Dumbledore hasn't appeared in public for a week, and the office has been vacant for a long time. I don't know where he has hidden.

The follow-up was shelved. After all, papers and reports occupied almost all of the young wizards' spare time, and Hermione could hardly spare any time to inquire about information about the Ministry of Magic and Death Eaters.

Of course, she has no channels.

Loren is very open-minded. As students who have not yet graduated, they cannot affect the situation anyway, so they might as well relax and wait and see what happens.

Harry and Ron didn't care about studying, and couldn't focus on the situation. They were even busier than Hermione. After finishing their schoolwork every day, they went straight to the Quidditch pitch, devoted themselves to Quidditch practice, and prepared for the game. The first game of the season is also the first game of this new team.

Classic draw, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

Fortunately, the temperature dropped quickly this winter and there were not a few heavy rains. They did not have to practice in the heavy rain.

It is said that the new players' skills have improved rapidly, but their psychological development is not sufficient. The players are generally too nervous to eat breakfast, especially the new team captain and goalkeeper. Captain Weasley's face turned pale with nervousness, and his hand holding the bread trembled. Trembling non-stop.

"Captain Ron! Cheer up!"

Harry sat on the bench and reached out to hold his trembling right hand. As a result, his own hand was also lifted up. The corners of his eyes twitched slightly, "Ron, you are also an old player. You played very well throughout the whole season last year." "What are you nervous about?"

"But...but I am the new captain. If we lose today's game, Gryffindor will lose the Quidditch Cup that has been held for five consecutive years. Hiss..."

Ron took a breath of air and almost missed it. His teeth were chattering and his speech was unclear. "Everyone will blame me! Slytherin will bring back last year's weird tune and continue singing... Weasley is unqualified." Captain, Weasley is an unqualified goalkeeper..."

He looked up at Harry in front of him, and his eyes lit up: "How about I give you the captaincy, Harry?"

"OK."

"ah?"

"I agree, go tell them now."

"Well……"

"I can go and talk to them alone."

"Don't you need to think about it again? I mean, at such a critical moment, I shouldn't drag you into the water..."

"Then why don't you motivate your team members!"

"..."

The new captain stood up and left in a daze. His panic and uneasiness disappeared strangely. Before his thoughts could turn around, he wandered around the long table in a daze, imitating the appearance of Wood and Angelina in his memory, clumsily Greeting players, making faces to ease their anxiety, telling them to eat more.

The Gryffindor table became even more lively.

Sitting on the seat at the end of the long table, Loren spread mayonnaise on the bread and while looking at the clumsy Captain Weasley, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a familiar figure: "Hermione, look! Principal Dumbledore has appeared! "

Hermione widened her eyes and looked up. The old principal, who had not been seen for a week, was unkempt, his beard and hair were a little messy, and he looked a little haggard, but his blue eyes were surprisingly bright, showing that he was energetic.

Dumbledore felt the gaze from this side, looked over here, with a smile on his face, and winked at the two of them.

The principal had something to say to them, and Loren and Hermione clearly understood the invitation in his eyes. This was a unique communication mode between good students and professors, without the need for dialogue. Just like the teacher reciting the text in class, sometimes just by looking at each other inadvertently, the two reach an agreement.

The two of them remained silent, lowered their heads and continued to enjoy breakfast.

Breakfast time ends quickly.

The Quidditch captain and the players gathered together and discussed tactics for a quarter of an hour. Time was almost up. They left the Great Hall amidst the applause of many Gryffindors, walked out of the foyer, and headed for the pitch.

Team members need to arrive in advance to prepare, change jerseys, go through broom security, adapt to the venue, warm up and fly...

The audience should be more leisurely and walk leisurely to the stadium, discussing today's game in small groups. A few bold students inherited George and Fred's business and invited people with portable gambling stalls. Place your bets, it’s so exciting.

Loren and Hermione slowly fell behind. Unknowingly, there was an old man with a white beard beside them. The three of them passed by the marble stairs and turned up in unison, breaking away from the large group heading to the stadium.

The three of them went up the stairs step by step, and Hermione couldn't help but ask: "Professor, where have you been this week?"

Dumbledore pondered for a moment: "Well... doing some security consulting work at the Ministry of Magic."

"Is the work heavy?" Hermione looked at his messy beard and said softly, "You look a little tired."

"Actually, the work is very easy. There are other reasons why it looks like this...Some insignificant things, I will tell you when I have the opportunity in the future." Dumbledore clenched his right fist, put it against his mouth, and coughed with a guilty conscience. Twice.

He was mentally prepared for this before going to the Pig's Head Bar. After all, he recruited Gellert into the school as a professor, and even took out the Resurrection Stone in front of Aberforth...

Hmm... Although Aberforth's academic performance is not as good as his own, his body is much stronger.

Loren secretly glanced at his face, and his eyes fell on his crooked nose. He didn't know if it was his own imagination, but he always felt that the bridge of his nose was more crooked than before.

……

On the eighth floor of the castle, in the bright and clean principal's office, Dumbledore, who was sitting behind his desk, stroked his beard, took out a delicate white porcelain teapot, and poured three cups of steaming pumpkin juice. The aroma was strong, slightly different from the pumpkin juice in the Hogwarts kitchen.

The Hog's Head Bar packed it.

Loren looked at the glass window, and Phoenix Fawkes was lying on the window sill enjoying the rare sunshine in winter, with a lazy posture. Outside the window, the clear blue sky was endless, and the bright sky illuminated the snow, shining brightly. A little further away was the lively Quidditch stadium, and in the audience, the golden and red Gryffindor colors were connected into one piece.

Hermione picked up the teacup and blew gently, and the moist steam dissipated and fell on the surface of the delicate silverware, blurring.

"Professor, what do you want to talk to us about?"

"Don't worry, tell us about your own business first."

"Last week on the street in Hogsmeade, Professor Slughorn..."

Dumbledore's reaction was a little flat. Just as Loren and the others expected, the headmaster had already received the news: "Scrimgeour also came to me for this matter. He wanted to invite me to deal with Voldemort and invite other professors of Hogwarts to participate in the action in an attempt to achieve a complete victory."

"It sounds like you refused."

"Yes, in my opinion, the Ministry of Magic's understanding of Voldemort is not clear..."