The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and the game had lasted for four hours.

A group of students sat in the audience, enjoying the game and eating snacks.

The offensive and defensive situation of the two teams had eased a lot. The long-term fierce attack was difficult to maintain. Coupled with hunger and thirst, the players on both sides were a little exhausted. The frequency and speed of the attack were gradually weakened. The competition was not fierce. They only moved to defend when the opponent organized an attack. To be honest, the situation looked a bit boring.

The score did not widen the gap. The victory or defeat of the game depended on the seekers of both sides.

There were many empty seats in the stands. Some spectators could not stand it and left early to go back to the auditorium for dinner. They have not returned yet.

The front row of the stands is the professors and staff of Hogwarts. Students can sneak away to eat. The professors can't leave under the gaze of the children. The smiles on the faces of Professors Flitwick and Sprout were a little forced. This year's final has nothing to do with them. They were not very interested in it. Now they have been trapped for four hours and just want to end this torture as soon as possible.

Even the two vice-presidents temporarily stopped fighting, and there was more comradeship in their conversation.

"These two teams are really tenacious..."

"I wonder if it will end before the sun sets."

"Draco's search direction half an hour ago was correct. If they had gathered on the right side of the court at that time, they should have forced the Golden Snitch out and ended the game."

"Harry's decision an hour ago was correct. If the two of them had kept their distance and covered a wider search range, the Golden Snitch would have been caught."

"Minerva, Severus, you can continue at dinner. I just want to watch the game quietly now."

"I agree with Filius' proposal..."

Dumbledore listened nearby, his eyes locked on the two people fighting above the court, with a faint smile in the corner of his eyes. Only a few people realized that this was also the last Quidditch game he watched at Hogwarts.

Fortunately, this game was special enough and should remain in memory for many years.

The professors quieted down and continued to watch the game on the court.

Harry clenched the broom handle with both hands, his cheeks pale. Judging from the skills and experience of the seeker, he thought that his current strength could be on par with Krum in the Goblet of Fire. He was proficient in all tactical means and had a strong character. Moreover, Gryffindor was leading in points now, so he had less pressure. Draco next to him was under greater pressure. He had been suspended for the past two years and lacked practice. Unexpectedly, with a few months of training and a strong will to not admit defeat, he bit Harry tightly, like a poisonous snake tightly wrapped around the Slytherin flag.

The scene of the two sides' game and entanglement was thrilling.

All kinds of emergency stops and turns, all kinds of dives and sprints, all kinds of ground-level rises, every acceleration and flip, every dodging and swerving, could arouse cheers from the stands. Even if you don't know Quidditch, you can see the wonderful flying skills.

In the end, Harry was half a body ahead and caught the Golden Snitch.

Gryffindor continued its victory legend.

The reaction of the audience in the stands was particularly intense. The cheers of Gryffindor resounded throughout the stadium. The students of Slytherin were silent. Some walked down the stands in frustration, tightly grasping the green snake flag, and their steps were particularly heavy.

It was expected that the four-hour stalemate had given them hope. Now that hope was shattered, this gap was even more difficult to accept.

Draco's body was exhausted and even numb. Looking at the enemy team celebrating enthusiastically, he couldn't help but reveal a complicated look in his eyes. Some things seemed to be like this. They had tried their best and victory was within reach, but they still failed in the end.

This feeling of powerlessness was even more unbearable than the physical pain.

"The players on both sides shook hands!"

Madam Hooch's whistle interrupted his thoughts.

Draco pursed his lips, shook his head casually, and followed the end of the team to shake hands.

"..."

Gryffindor students rushed into the stadium. Colin Creevey held a camera bigger than his head, his cheeks flushed with excitement: "Harry held up the trophy and stood in the middle. The seventh graders surrounded him, and then moved to the side. Yes, yes..."

Loren and Hermione also took a shot, in the right corner of the second row.

"One, two, three - cheese!"

The picture was frozen.

...

The sun was setting in the west, and the Black Lake was sparkling.

The noisy cheers on the Quidditch field in the distance had not stopped. The Gryffindor Academy was delighted to win the championship in the final. Slytherin Academy recovered after a period of loss. All the players who were about to graduate stayed on the field, stroking their brooms, wandering around the scoring ring, listening to the sound of the bats hitting, trying to engrave these things in their minds, and deepening the people and things they had experienced on the field in the past few years.

In fact, it was not as sad as imagined.

Other students were wandering on the shore of the Black Lake. They were just playing, enjoying this sunny weekend, and leisurely visiting the Black Lake.

There is a group of reefs on the right side of the Black Lake. The bushes on the shore are deep, the beech trees are lush, and there are more mosquitoes than other places. It is particularly mortal, so students don’t like to play here, especially after the sun sets. There are also a few people who think the scenery here is beautiful.

For example, an old headmaster in a gray and white robe.

The review of the financial statements was pushed to Severus, and the report speech of the school board was entrusted to Minerva. There were no trivial matters to worry about, and no dark wizards to worry about. The four-hour Quidditch finals were particularly exciting, and the sunset on the shore was also particularly charming. Dumbledore felt that both were memories worth remembering.

He waved his sleeves to drive away mosquitoes, patiently and calmly.

There was a sound of birds flapping their wings overhead, and when he looked up, a dark brown owl landed in the window of the principal's office.

It was a letter from Mr. Kohaug in New York. After the Christmas holiday, he never stopped asking about Loren, and Miss Jorkins also started writing to ask some strange questions on the weekend not long ago.

They wanted to find out something, but they didn't dare to ask frankly.

Dumbledore's blue eyes reflected the sunset, and the light flickered.

He was not sure about many things before, and he only pieced together a vague outline. He didn't know the full picture of the grand blueprint, but at least he was willing to believe in his students.

The setting sun sank into the ground, and the ripples on the lake dimmed.

Dumbledore stood on the rocky shore. When he was still studying at Hogwarts a hundred years ago, the sunset here was the same as it is now, but the bushes were not as lush as they are now. The evening breeze blew from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, with a slightly cool chill, the air gradually became moist, and the night fog gradually filled the air.

Suddenly, there was a sound of swaying branches and leaves from behind, rustling.

Dumbledore turned his head to look.

A familiar figure was slowly approaching, wearing the uniform robes of Gryffindor College, with black hair and black eyes, and a faint smile on his face.

"Principal, so you are here."

"It sounds like there is trouble."

"How can a professor help a student? It's troublesome." Loren smiled.

Just now, I was only busy taking their group photo. I didn't remember to find the principal for business until the sun went down. Fortunately, the principal's magic was as bright as a little sun, and this place was the brightest after the sun went down.

"..."

Dumbledore smiled helplessly. He remembered the letters from Miss Jorkins and Mr. Colehaug. He vaguely pieced together part of the plan through the previous clues. It was complicated and huge, and it was definitely more troublesome than dealing with financial statements.

"Tell me about it."

"The cause and effect of the matter is a bit long. It starts with the Book of Abraham." Loren said as briefly as possible, "Many items and clues left by legendary wizards gathered in my hands, and gradually pieced together a road to the promised land of magic, that is, the new space transfer device..."

"So that's it..."

Hundreds of years have accumulated into precious wealth. The old wizard is proficient in alchemy and quickly understood the concept he described.

"What is the chance of success?"

"I don't know either."

Loren shrugged his shoulders and sighed: "The new space device is stuck in the last step of mass production. To start the movement, it is necessary to accurately control the energy output of the magic stone. The transmission of a single device can still be controlled by senior wizards, but this distance of transmission requires thousands of devices to form a matrix to ensure that the output is controlled at the same time and frequency, and no error is allowed... I really can't think of any way, so I can only come to you for help."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered and he thought seriously.

Thousands of devices are connected and communicated with each other, and are uniformly controlled by the core where the magic stone is located. This operation mode reminds him of a spring, which is connected to the same water source and connected together with incredible magic, and the water flow is always uniform.

The answer quickly emerged in his mind.

"So that's it..."

This book was recently updated in ##六@@@九@@@书@@吧!! Update!

Magic is always so wonderful. Even if the secrets have been deeply explored in the past hundred years, even the boundary between life and death, I still feel the magic of magic, as if there is really a consciousness beyond all creatures in the dark, quietly arranging everything.

Dumbledore withdrew his thoughts and looked at Loren who was kicking stones at the lake. He smiled gently: "Loren, do you remember the oath we made?"

"You mean..."

Loren raised his right hand and looked at the tip of his index finger. As if sensing his gaze, golden flame patterns floated under his fingerprint. It was a magic contract.

Dumbledore nodded and raised his right hand. The fingertips flashed the same light.

...

The castle was particularly quiet at dusk.

Back to the castle lobby, he found the girl waiting for him under the marble staircase.

The sun had just set and the moon had not risen yet. Only the afterglow of the sunset had not completely dissipated. Under the dim sky, the girl stood under the stairs and looked down at the wild flowers at her feet. There were three or two flowers, tender yellow, only the size of a fingernail.

The evening breeze blew, and the hair on the girl's forehead swayed slightly, adding a bit of tenderness to her beautiful figure.

Hearing the footsteps approaching, the girl turned her head and looked over here. Her skin was white and delicate, more tender than petals. Suddenly facing this beautiful face, her heart felt like being hit.

"Hermione."

Loren quickened his pace and ran closer, leaned close to her cheek and sucked, then smiled and hugged her shoulders.

Hermione's expression was calm, she just reached out to wipe the saliva on her face, and her tone was also calm: "Does Principal Dumbledore have a solution?"

"Let's go to the Fountain of Good Luck on the graduation trip."

"???"

Walking into the castle, it was dinner time.

Perhaps to make up for the lunch delayed by Quidditch, today's dinner was particularly rich. Before entering the auditorium, I could already smell the rich fragrance, which made my stomach growl.

Usually, the two of them would take different dishes and exchange them together, but now Hermione couldn't resist her curiosity, so she followed him closely with her plate, taking whatever he took.

"What's the Fountain of Luck?"

"Give me a piece of grilled veal."

Hermione didn't care about dinner at all. She let him put a whole steak on the plate and asked persistently, "Is it the Fountain of Luck in The Tales of Beedle the Poet? Just like the jumping pot?"

"Yes, it's the Fountain of Luck..." Loren was digging mashed potatoes and roasted beef mince, slowly putting a spoonful of it on Hermione's plate, "I once made a promise with Dumbledore that as long as I could control the use of Legilimency, he would tell me about the Fountain of Luck."

"Has the contract been reached?"

"The contract was just an excuse. At that time, Dumbledore was obsessed with the role of life mentor. It was not enough to teach Harry. He was worried that I might be affected by too much exposure to Legilimency, a dark magic that touches the depths of my heart, so he proposed to use the Fountain of Luck to make a promise, just like coaxing a child."

"Then you agreed."

"I am coaxing Old man, if I don't agree, he will worry about this and that all day long, and I'm worried that he will harass me. "

"..."

"Let's have a piece of red wine stewed chicken."

"Is the Fountain of Good Luck related to the new space teleportation device?"

"Dumbledore believes that the Fountain of Good Luck can solve the current dilemma, stabilize the output of the Philosopher's Stone, so that the devices will not interfere with each other, and successfully complete large-scale ultra-long-distance space teleportation."

"The last problem of mass production of the new space teleportation device has been solved..." Hermione murmured in a low voice, her expression was a little dazed, "What does the professor think of your plan? Did he make any comments or suggestions?"

"No."

"Nothing?"

"Otherwise, Dumbledore is lazy all day long and is already in retirement..."

Loren picked up a piece of apple puree with black blood sausage, his eyes flickering, and secretly glanced at Hermione's expression. She was still in a daze.

He had tasted this thing once before, and the taste was hard to describe. He thought it was a dark dish and stayed away from it. He was about to graduate and wanted to try it again, but he was worried that he couldn't eat it.

After a little hesitation, he put the black blood sausage on Hermione's plate.

"If Voldemort's affairs hadn't tied him to school, he might have retired and traveled around the world. He had expressed similar ideas before, believing that each generation of wizards has its own mission, and each era has its own problems that wizards need to solve. His historical mission has been completed."

"..."

Just as they walked back to their seats, Hermione stopped and took his plate: "There is cream of mushroom soup over there, help me get one, I'll wait for you at my seat."

"Okay."

Loren took the mushroom soup and returned to his seat, staring at the black blood sausage on the plate in front of him, and couldn't help falling silent.

"Emm..."

The innocent and lovely little witch she once was, could never go back.