The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

The candle flame floated silently in the air like an illusory light source. Harry opened his eyes and carefully observed his memories. In a few seconds, the hazy and distorted images in his memory gradually zoomed in, as if a layer of filter was peeled off.

The swaying candlelight stabilized and burned quietly in the air. Various bright colors spread rapidly along the outline of things. The picture showed a real texture, and the sound was no longer ethereal. After years of washing, some blurred memories suddenly became clear, as if they were experienced again.

In his memory scene, Harry's perception concretized an illusory figure, more transparent than a ghost, and no one in his memory could detect it.

"Lisa Dupin!"

"Ravenclaw!"

The voices of Professor McGonagall and the Sorting Hat spread throughout the auditorium. The cheers of Ravenclaw College were cautious and restrained. The face of the girl of the same grade was very familiar. He had met her in many classes. Until now, Harry suddenly realized that he remembered her full name.

Harry gathered his mind, eliminated the noise around him, and looked towards the seat of the guest of honor.

Dumbledore sat in the center seat, his silver hair and beard glowing slightly. Professor Snape was dressed in a black robe, his deep eyes always cast towards the Gryffindor table, but he looked away when the boy with glasses and a scar on his forehead raised his head. Harry used to not understand, but after seven years, he could understand that look now.

Next to him was Professor Quirrell, his face was extremely pale, and he was wrapped in a strange and heavy purple scarf, which looked very strange.

Is Voldemort's weak and powerless ghost hidden under that scarf?

Harry had a vague understanding in his heart, and a thought suddenly flashed through his mind. He thought about it for a few seconds, and almost without hesitation, he immediately stood up and walked towards the guest of honor seat.

With Blaise Zabini being sorted into Slytherin, the sorting ceremony was completely over. Professor McGonagall stepped forward to pick up the sorting hat and passed by Harry's illusory body. The swinging skirt hem penetrated his body without hindrance, reminding him again that this was just an illusory scene in his memory, and he was not here seven years later.

The sound of metal cutlery knocking against each other, the sound of glass glasses colliding, the professors whispering, and the sound of Dumbledore's seemingly crazy speech... Harry's illusory body walked across the steps, across the long table full of delicacies, and came to Quirinus Quirrell.

Harry looked at the tangled turban in front of him, which was tightly wrapped. He was sure that he had not smelled the stench of Professor Quirrell during the sorting ceremony, but now he could smell it clearly. He didn't know whether it was based on the supplement of subsequent memories, or the real scene did have this smell, but he ignored it at the time.

The disgusting stench spread, as if garlic mixed with onions was soaked in Hagrid's boots and fermented for several years. Several professors nearby were far away, and Professor Flitwick buried his head, so he couldn't see his expression at the time.

Harry wanted to lift the tangled turban, but the illusory body just passed through, and his fingers didn't feel any real touch.

Things in memory, of course, can't be touched.

"..."

Harry bent down and looked at Quirrell's face. The professor always lowered his head and looked timid, as if he didn't dare to look people in the eye. No one would have thought that this former outstanding graduate of Hogwarts, professor of Muggle Studies, went to Albania alone in pursuit of power, and was eventually controlled by Voldemort as a puppet, and returned to school to plot the Philosopher's Stone.

If I remember correctly, Voldemort was observing Hogwarts through Quirrell's perception at this moment.

The eyes were black, and the color of the edges was light, like a hazy membrane. Harry inexplicably thought of the third eyelid of those amphibians, also known as the nictitating membrane, which isolates the eyeball from the real world, but does not affect the peeping from behind the scenes.

There seemed to be something unspeakable floating behind that hazy darkness.

Harry took a deep breath. Although he knew that this was just a reappearance of the memory scene, when he realized that Voldemort's ghost was in front of him, he still subconsciously stared at those eyes and used Legilimency...

But his magic spread along his gaze and only touched a blank, cold blank.

The sound of the opening banquet continued, the glass glasses collided, the sound was crisp and pleasant, Harry's consciousness rose rapidly, as if he had dived from the depths of the Black Lake, and his consciousness surfaced and returned to the hazy memory space. Fragments of memory floated around like bubbles, light and shadow flowed, and the scene was blurred.

A few thoughts flashed through Harry's mind, and he seemed to have grasped something vaguely, but when he thought carefully, those thoughts slipped away from his mind in a hurry, leaving only a feeling of loss.

Sinking into the ocean of memory again, he consciously looked for the scenes where Voldemort appeared, the night when the unicorn corpse was found in the Forbidden Forest, and the adventure of guarding the Philosopher's Stone that year...but he could not find the answer.

Tossed until late at night, and finally fell asleep exhausted.

…

One morning in mid-July.

The villa area in Hampstead, a suburb of the city, was quiet, far from the main roads, and each house was far apart. Even on weekdays, there was no noisy whistle.

The direction of the bed was changed. Now the sun only hit the buttocks, not the eyes. Loren stayed in bed and felt that he could sleep for several more five minutes.

Besides, the sun hadn't hit the buttocks yet.

The whole house was quiet. Owl Hanhan had gone out last night and hadn't come back yet. Grandpa Bates had gone out very early.

It is said that two trees in the backyard died. Loren speculated that they were caused by improper watering. Grandpa Bates firmly opposed it. He believed that the tree vendor was making dirty money and fooled him with defective trees that had been treated with plant hormones before selling them. , it looked lush and green, but the roots were broken, so it died after only half a year. He got up early to find an explanation from the vendor, but when he got there late, the vendor ran away.

I'm too lazy to make breakfast and have nothing to do. This kind of weather is perfect for sleeping.

After a few minutes, his mind gradually woke up, but his body refused to get up. Loren turned over, opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, waiting for his body to restart, while his mind was thinking aimlessly.

The theory of Apparition, Boggarts and Dementors, the relationship between body and soul...

The message left by Abraham and Slytherin...

The dark ancient history narrated by Ms. Daisy Doddridge. She traveled in the starry sky in her dream and saw a planet similar to the Earth...

Many images flashed through his mind, and it seemed like a long time had passed. Loren felt sleepy coming back, and he could sleep for a few more five minutes.

Just when he was about to close his eyes, there was a loud crack in the air, and Hermione appeared in the middle of the room, holding Crookshanks in her arms. He didn't know what was so good about this ugly cat, so fat. Persimmon face, as if the whole world owes it cat food.

Seeing the person lying on the bed, Hermione was not surprised at all, but a little helpless. She came to the bed and sat down, looking sideways at the humanoid lazy creature: "How long do you plan to lie in bed?"

"..."

It’s not my subjective intention to lie down, so how do I know how long to lie down?

However, Miss Granger came from a medical family and probably would not accept this answer, so Loren thought for a moment and stared at the fat cat with a persimmon face: "Just five more minutes."

"How many five minutes?"

"This question stumped me."

Hermione let go of the cat in her arms and watched as it walked to the pillow with light steps, curled up into a ball, and squinted its eyes, as if it wanted to sleep in with this person.

Loren's eyes were open. For someone who had just woken up, the whites of his eyes were bloodless and his pupils were dark, making his eyes clean and bright. This man had a good appearance. Hermione didn't care about this, but sometimes she wanted to take a few more looks.

She rarely urged this person to get up, nor did she emphasize how much homework she had to do today. She asked in a soft voice, "Did you stay up late last night?"

Loren snorted: "Do you still remember that strange Soul-Capturing Stone? Flamel put forward a conjecture. I verified it some time ago. I spent some time making a summary last night and gained some results, but it is still not complete. Unlock the secret of the soul-stirring stone."

Hermione looked down at him with gentle eyes: "There will be plenty of time in the future, so study slowly."

"I know." Loren said twice, closing the distance between him and Hermione, "I just suddenly made a small discovery. I thought there would be a bigger breakthrough, and I felt a little excited, so I stayed up late without realizing it."

"What did you find?"

Loren came close to her and could smell the light fragrance, "Isn't that stone able to reflect other people's emotions? It was only when I came back from vacation that I discovered that creatures with magic are different from creatures without magic. The color that marks the wizard More colorful, maybe magic is at work..."

"Who have you seen with the Soul-Capturing Stone?" Hermione gently stroked his hair. The natural curls were still soft and warm, and the hair slipped between her fingers, feeling a slight itch.

"Let me recall, there is the beautiful counter of the bakery, the cashier lady of the fresh food supermarket, the candy store..."

Hermione's expression was slightly cold, and she just happened to hold a handful of his hair in her hand. It was clear that this man was deliberately making her angry, and she still had the urge to clench and pull his hair hard.

"hey-hey……"

Loren knew that this kind of behavior was dangerous, but he still did it happily, for no other reason than to pursue excitement.

After freeing her hair from Hermione's hands, Loren tried to put his head on her lap, but found that the position was a bit awkward, so he changed the direction of the turtle before resting on it.

"Why don't you continue counting?" Hermione began to pinch his earlobe. The girl's hands were really restless.

"I'm not stupid."

Loren turned his head twice, trying to get rid of her hand that was rubbing his ears. As a result, the person started pinching the tip of his nose and poking his face. In short, he just refused to calm down.

Loren directly hugged the girl's waist and buried his face in her belly to avoid harassment. The soft short sleeves smelled a bit fragrant, and he couldn't help but take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

"Don't move."

Hermione's voice was trembling, and she was still sitting on the edge of the bed, but her body was a little stiff. Her long white fingers covered the sides of her head, and she moved her hands away slowly and firmly, "Or I'll pull your hair."

"..."

Loren didn't struggle, but was a little angry: "It's not fair! You would rather hug Crookshanks than hug me?"

"Meow?"

Crookshanks next to him heard someone calling him, raised his head and called out blankly.

"..."

Hermione calmed down silently and ignored the cat or this person.

"Are you feeling guilty if you don't speak?"

"Shut up, get up and wash up."

"Lie down for five more minutes."

"You have been lying down for more than ten or five minutes. Do you want to get up?"

"..."

Loren glanced at the sun that was about to bask in his butt, and got up anyway.

Always careless, but at critical moments, he still knows how to read people's expressions. Generally, it is not appropriate to continue to pester her. And it is almost five minutes. Getting up at this time is not forced by threats, but to comply with the agreement.

Washing face and brushing teeth, looking at the face in the mirror, it is indeed a righteous look that is not afraid of power and abides by the rules.

Five minutes later, Loren returned to the bedroom again.

His girlfriend was holding the ugly cat and teasing it again. I don't know how this cat smells like her boyfriend. She was teasing and whispering, but Crookshanks was still yawning, with a disgusted expression, as if to say, "Don't disturb my sleep."

Loren rushed forward angrily, hugged the girl, and pushed her down on the bed.

...

Hermione was angry and amused, and let him do what he wanted.

At first, he just hugged her waist, his hands were a little tight, but it didn't hurt her. It was a very warm embrace. Then the man buried his head in her neck and took a breath, as if he was smelling some flowers. This was an intimate action he often did, but his breath was a little hot, which made the girl flustered. Later, he began to get restless. He began to kiss along the neck, moving all the way to the collarbone and neck. It was tingling, and the wet heat penetrated into her heart, stimulating the whole body to start heating up.

Hermione wanted to stop his movements at first, but twisting twice only made him suck harder, so she gave up struggling and collapsed.

When the wet heat came up to her lips, the girl hummed a nasal sound and began to respond to this heavy and pure love.

Perhaps because she had just finished washing, this kiss had a faint toothpaste smell, minty, somewhat familiar, and somewhat strange. I still remember that his previous kisses always tasted orange...

Hermione closed her eyes, without any panic in her heart.

She trusted Loren and trusted the passionate and restrained love between the two.

Crookshanks was kicked in the middle of the way, and no one paid attention to his accusing cat cry, so he slipped out of the room hurt and closed the door for them.

It was unknown how long this time of lingering lasted. Neither of them noticed the passage of time. When they were excited, their love overflowed and they stopped naturally. Maybe they were tired of kissing.

Loren hugged his beloved girl sideways, and his expression and mood were very happy. He had verified that his boyfriend was still more fragrant than a cat.

The sun was shining everywhere.

Hermione also hugged him tightly, and suddenly pulled his sleeve, saying softly, smaller than a mosquito: "You bit me."

Loren moved back: "Sorry, I didn't put my wand away."

"..."