Harry: I'm Tired, Just Destroy Everything

Flying over the towering buildings of Hogwarts and over the low hills, four Hippogriff skimmed close to the Black Lake, their sharp talons dipping into the water, creating ripples that parted the moonlight reflected in the Black Lake, making it sparkle.

On a chilly autumn night, the little wizard rode a strange animal around the world, and all was quiet.

Twelve-foot-long wings sliced through the thick night, their glossy feathers reflecting a faint light under the starlight and moonlight. A cold wind blew against their faces, and Loren and the others felt their cheeks go numb from the cold, yet they couldn't suppress their smiles, their hearts pounding rapidly as they pumped their blood.

Loren put his Hippogriff; birds have a higher body temperature than humans, and it felt warm to the touch.

Although it was his first time riding a winged beast, he could sense the creature's emotions, so his movements weren't as cautious as the others, and he felt exceptionally comfortable flying through the night sky.

Hermione followed behind him, nervous and excited. The smooth feathers brushed against her fingers, but she dared not tug too hard, afraid of hurting the winged beast.

"This is the coolest thing I've ever done in my life, a night out! And on Hippogriff at night!" Ron shouted, huddled up from the cold, but his voice was still brimming with barely suppressed excitement as he clutched the hippogriff's feathers tightly. "George and Fred have never experienced this!"

Harry was more skilled than during the day, and although Buckbeak would still occasionally trip his legs when flapping its wings, he was no longer worried about being thrown off.

The little bit of frustration in my heart was blown away by the cold wind, leaving only a feeling of exhilarating joy.

He imitated Loren by wrapping his arms around Buckbeak's neck, feeling the warmth transfer to his hands. Babbity shuddered, turned its neck, and cried out at him.

"Hey! Stop complaining. You have no idea how much I sacrificed to save you!" Harry muttered, hugging her even tighter.

Whether Babbity understood or not, he called out again.

While he was distracted, Ron overtook him from behind, shouting arrogantly, "How about that, Harry? You can't outfly me without your flying broom, can you? Get out of my way! Hahaha..."

Harry smiled and said, "Don't get too cocky. Let me show you the Gryffindor Seeker's skills!"

The four of them flew freely, freed from the constraints of gravity. The boundaries of space became blurred, and the oncoming wind became the source of their sense of distance.

Until they unknowingly flew out of Hogwarts's cordon and brushed past a patrolling Dementor.

"Oh no, Harry!"

Hearing Ron's exclamation, Loren and Hermione turned around and saw Harry squinting as he fell off Buckbeak and plummeted straight to the ground.

"Harry!"

"[Dampening Charm] "

Late at night, in the Gryffindor Common Room.

It was already after lights out, and the circular lounge was quiet, with only Loren, Hermione, and Ron sitting around a long sofa, their expressions solemn.

The dim candlelight flickered incessantly, causing the shadows to sway as well.

On the soft, orange linen sofa, Harry lay neatly, his body leaving a human-shaped indentation. But his face was uneasy; his brow was furrowed, as if he were having a nightmare.

The group was already experienced and wasn't too worried about Harry.

"I understand that you brought Harry back directly so as not to worry Hagrid. But why did you make me lead four Hippogriff back to the paddock?"

Ron's brows furrowed tightly, as if he were deeply puzzled by something. He looked up, glaring angrily at the two despicable men. "I was almost torn to pieces by those four!"

Loren and Hermione felt a little guilty, mainly because they felt too cold after getting off the Hippogriff and didn't want to walk any further to the Forbidden Forest...

When they came to their senses, the two had already subconsciously conspired to trick Ron into sending the winged beast back to the enclosure.

"Emmmm"

Loren pondered for a moment, "Speaking of dismemberment, I am reminded of a form of punishment in ancient China called ' Dismemberment by Chariot,' which involved several horses dragging the condemned person's limbs one by one. A great reformer was executed in this way."

Hermione looked down at her fingernails and muttered softly, "There was a form of punishment in Britain history called 'hanging, pulling, and splitting,' where the prisoner was first hanged and then dragged by livestock..."

Linmei's two scoundrels...

Ron laughed in exasperation, "Am I discussing punishment with you two?! What I'm saying is—"

Harry, who was behind them, sat up abruptly and quickly looked down. He was relieved to find that he hadn't been smashed into a pulp and leaned back on the sofa, panting heavily.

"Harry, you're awake?" Loren asked with concern.

Harry snapped out of his daze, his head still spinning, and said blankly, "I... I think I just passed out again..."

"That's right," Hermione nodded quickly, "The Hippogriff accidentally flew out of the school and we just happened to run into the Dementor."

Harry felt conflicted.

Even though all four of them encountered Dementor and were ahead of him, he was the only one who died instantly.

Ron noticed his friend's disappointment, sat down next to him, and pointed at the two of them, scolding them with a pained expression. "You have no idea how outrageous those two were! In order to enjoy some alone time, they actually lied to me and said that sending Buckbeak and the others back would strengthen their bond and make them fly higher and faster next time... I almost became Hippogriff's midnight snack!"

Loren immediately retorted, "I did this to get you back to the lounge. You know me, my Levitation Charm is the best I can use, the most suitable one to get you back."

Hermione retorted, "Harry, you know me. I'm here to keep an eye on Loren in case he transports you like he transported Ron in the first year."

"What! What do you mean by 'the first-year students transported me like that'?" Ron's eyes widened. "When, and what does 'like that' mean?"

Harry belatedly realized that it was the time when Ron was bitten and poisoned by Norbert the Little Fire Dragon in his first year. They dragged Ron up and down the stairs to the Hospital Wing, almost shoving his brains into pieces.

"Hehe..." Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Seeing Ron's increasingly grim expression, Hermione stood up, trying hard to suppress her laughter. "I have a lot of classes tomorrow, I'm going back to sleep."

"That's right, that's right, there are a lot of classes."

"That's right, that's right, it's time to sleep."

Loren and Harry nodded in agreement.

Ron jumped up and yelled, "You two aren't getting away! We're roommates, and we need to get this straight today!"

Some chased, some ran, their swift footsteps echoing on the stairs.

"Meow..."

Crookshanks, who was curled up on the cushion in front of the fireplace, was awakened by them. He arched his back, stretched, licked his paws with his little tongue, then rubbed his cheeks with his paws a few times, and shook his body violently, fully waking up.

Crookshanks picked up his special cushion, trotted lightly to the Portrait Hole, put down the cushion and sat down, his bright yellow eyes shining in the darkness, staring straight at the Portrait Hole.

As if waiting for something.

Thursday, September 9th.

The first long class this morning was A History of Magic A History of Magic. This year's course focused mainly on the medieval period, highlighting the escalating conflict between wizards and Muggle. While Muggle witch hunts posed little threat to adult wizards, many young wizards were harmed. In Muggle, wizards were increasingly killing Muggle ...

Later, the International Confederation of Wizards was established, laying the foundation for the future development of the Wizarding World.

Actually, we learned some of this content last year. Professor Binns brought it up again because 1994 is just around the corner, and the next International Confederation of Wizards Conference is about to be held.

Unfortunately, the young wizards had no political sensitivity. They were already incredibly sleepy during the first class in the morning, and when they heard that the content was something they had already learned, they slept even more comfortably, almost snoring.

The second lesson was Charms. Professor Flitwick hadn't started teaching this academic year yet; he planned to spend a month reviewing the previous material. Today, they were reviewing the Levitation Charm.

Although Loren listened listlessly, Harry was secretly delighted.

He attended both lessons with Hufflepuff, as Malfoy from Slytherin wasn't there, allowing him to escape half a day of humiliation as a lackey.

This secret delight lasted until the afternoon, before the first Potions class for Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Unexpectedly, Malfoy swaggered into the Dungeon Classroom just before class started, his smile undisguised. Harry thought he looked like a peacock spreading its tail feathers, ostentatious and proud.

Pansy Parkinson followed him in, the bandages on her hands already removed. She glared at Harry, then grinned and moved closer to Malfoy: "I don't know why Draco asked me to spare that beast, but I'll do what you say."

"I'll make it up to you." Malfoy frowned slightly in disgust, then made a face at Harry and winked as Pansy looked away.

Harry felt uneasy. He looked at the materials he would need for the day with some panic, then turned to the two top students at the front of the table for help and whispered, "Loren, Hermione, tell me how to take these herbs so I can get into the Hospital Wing, right now!"

Snap!

Harry was tapped on the back of the head. Snape casually unfurled his sleeves and stepped onto the stage from behind, as if he hadn't just struck him. His tone was calm. "Mr. Potter, if your troll brain has a memory better than the bass in the Black Lake and can recall your summer homework, you should know about the potion we're going to learn about today."

Loren shrugged at Harry, looking helpless.

Snape stood on the platform, wrote "Shrinking Potion" on the blackboard, turned sharply, and stared directly at Harry with an imposing gaze. "Potter, you tell us about it."

I knew it... It's the same every year, nothing new at all.

"Yes, Professor." Harry smiled calmly, having anticipated Snape's challenge. "Shrinking Potion can shrink the drinker or transform them into a younger form. If prepared correctly, Shrinking Potion will be a bright, vibrant green. If prepared incorrectly, Potions will turn orange and be somewhat toxic."

Snape's expression remained unchanged. "What materials will we need?"

Harry calmly replied, "Daisy Root, Shrivelfig, caterpillar, rat spleen, leech juice, Professor Snape."

He deliberately placed the title at the end, making it sound as if Snape was also part of the material.

Loren looked at him with some surprise.

That's good, you've learned to fight back.

Some of the young wizards couldn't help but chuckle softly, then cautiously stole glances at Professor Snape.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer, "Inopportune cleverness will only make your situation worse."

"I don't understand what you mean, sir." Harry was not flustered at all, and even a little expectant. He had memorized the processing methods of several herbs, and even asked Loren about the effects of each method.

"Then, Mr. Potter, who thinks he's so clever, please tell me the origin of the Shrinking Potion," Snape said unhurriedly.

Hiss~

As if he were being targeted by Basilisk, Harry's excitement instantly froze, his body stiffened as if petrified, his eyes twitched incessantly, and his expression was barely holding back.

All the young wizards looked at Harry, feeling deep sympathy, but that didn't stop them from watching the show.

Harry felt cold sweat seeping from his back, slowly soaking his shirt; he was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Who invented the Shrinking Potion?

I think I saw it in Hermione's paper; he and Loren were laughing at Hermione for being silly back then.

The atmosphere froze for half a minute. Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to stare straight into those indifferent eyes. "I don't know, sir."

Snape chuckled and lazily looked at Neville: "Mr. Longbottom, you answer."

The young wizards looked at Neville with pity, Harry felt deeply guilty, thinking that he had angered Snape and implicated Neville.

Neville was pale and his lips trembled. "Professor, the Shrinking Potion was invented in the 16th century. The famous apothecary Zygmunt Bach accidentally concocted this potion."

While everyone was still in shock, Seamus explained in a low voice, "His mother tutored him during the summer vacation, very thoroughly."

Harry felt a mix of emotions. When he couldn't answer, he worried that Neville would be implicated, but when Neville answered, he felt a subtle sense of disappointment.

"That's quite surprising." Snape raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry again. "If Mr. Longbottom knows the answer, and someone else can't, perhaps you should consider dropping out, clever Potter!"

He changed the subject abruptly. "Potter talked back to the teacher, Gryffindor lost five points as a result. Now, let's begin the lesson!"

The Shrinking Potion, after its invention, remained largely unknown for a long time until a wizard named Samuel Plunkett made it famous. In revenge against the Muggle village that had persecuted him, Samuel poured the Shrinking Potion into the village well and then, clad in Spiked Boots, chased after the shrunken villagers...

Harry's ordeal wasn't over yet. After Snape finished explaining the theory of the Shrinking Potion and had the young wizards start practicing brewing it in groups, Draco raised his right hand and said something that made Harry feel a little desperate, "Professor, I want to be in a group with Potter!"

"Oh, really?" Snape rarely showed surprise, just like the other young wizards.

Harry saw Malfoy mouth a silent threat to him. "Buckbeak..."

Amidst the astonishment of the crowd, Harry swallowed hard and managed to squeeze out a few words: "Yes, yes, Professor, I want to be in a group with Malfoy."

For the rest of the lesson, the young wizards made a series of mistakes as a truly absurd scene unfolded in the classroom.

"Potter!" Draco grinned smugly. "Quickly cut the roots off these daisies."

Harry's fingers, gripping the knife, turned white from the excessive force. He dragged the Daisy Root in front of him and began to chop it haphazardly, creating uneven pieces of varying sizes.

Draco immediately became disgusted. "Look at yourself, you've ruined the Daisy Root, how can this be used? Cut it again."

"Why can't I—"

"Um?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy!"

Harry reluctantly took another pair of Daisy Root, cut them neatly, and handed them over.

Draco leisurely added the Daisy Root to the cauldron and once again called out in a drawn-out tone, "Potter, my fig needs to be peeled."

Harry took the fig, peeled it quickly, and tossed it to Draco across the table without a word. Draco was now smiling more triumphantly than ever before.

"Potter, cut the caterpillar into pieces for me."