The Third Sunday of September

Lupin stared at the tightly sealed small porcelain bottle, his heart pounding nervously.

Although he and Snape had never gotten along, and Snape had always coveted his position Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, they were now both professors, Dumbledore trusted him a lot... so Snape probably wouldn't poison the medicine.

However, this can only guarantee that personal safety will not be endangered.

"Loren ..." Lupin paused for a moment, "Could you tell me about the improvements to the potion?"

"Yes, Professor," Loren explained honestly. "To achieve better results, Professor Snape suggested adding a highly stimulating ingredient to the original Wolfsbane Potion. This version of the Wolfsbane Potion contains Rafflesia extract..."

Lupin's eye twitched. As the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, he certainly knew what the Rafflesia was.

The extract of that stuff is added to the medicine, and then you have to drink it...

The taste of Wolfsbane Potion is bad enough, but adding Rafflesia...

"Loren!"

"Um?"

Does adding Rafflesia really improve the efficacy of the medicine?

Loren glanced at Lupin discreetly without making a sound.

Professor, your question is very informative.

Loren paused for a moment before replying, "From the perspective of Potions principles, it really is possible."

"Is that so..." Lupin nodded somewhat absentmindedly.

"Professor," seeing the professor's somewhat pale face, Loren braced himself and made a request, "I would like to observe your transformation state on the Full Moon Night, for the purpose of subsequent formula improvements, is that alright?"

"Further formula improvements?" A glimmer of hope appeared in Lupin's eyes. "What improvements?"

"Adjust the dosage of the extract, and determine the dosage of Corpse-stinking Lily, Leopard-skin flower ..." Loren noticed that Professor Lupin's hand seemed to tremble slightly, and he gradually slowed down his speech, "The dosage of these additives."

"The Corpse-stinking Lily, the Leopard-skin flower..."

Lupin repeated the names of the flowers, which sounded quite unpleasant, to himself. After a moment's thought, perhaps because the news was so heavy, he seemed to understand. He looked up at Loren and gave him a carefree smile. "It sounds awful, but I trust Professor Snape is a professional..."

He seemed to have completely come to terms with it. "Hopefully, the improved potion will give me the energy to attend classes after the full moon. If I'm in the same state as on the train for the next few days after transforming, you'll fall behind in your classes again."

She has such a good temper...

Loren silently prayed for the Werewolf professor, hoping he would remain so when he drank the potion.

"Professor, remember to take the medicine a week in advance, which is next Thursday," Loren instructed.

Lupin put the small porcelain bottle into his pocket and nodded in agreement, "I understand. The full moon is on the last day of this month. Come to my office after dinner, and we'll go to the Shrieking Shack together."

"Okay, Professor. Goodbye, Professor."

Watching Loren's departing figure, Lupin smiled gently, stood up, and went to the podium, preparing to take the water tank back to his office.

The water monkey Kappa pressed its face against the glass and bared its teeth fiercely at him.

Lupin looked into Kappa's eyes and asked softly, "Do you think if I let Snape take the Defense Against the Dark Arts, he'll make the potions taste better?"

"Squeak--"

Lupin smiled, tapped on the glass to scare it back, used the Levitation Charm to lift the water tank, and walked out of the classroom.

September 19, 1993, the third Sunday of September, morning.

The dark clouds gathered and dispersed in the sky; for the entire week, the sky had been overcast, and the heavy rain that everyone had anticipated had yet to fall. Fortunately, the autumn wind was brisk, and the temperature was neither too hot nor too cold, making it quite pleasant.

It might rain today.

At the foot of the steps of Hogwarts Castle's Entrance Hall, Loren looked up at the sky. Although dark clouds still drifted overhead, the sky was brighter than usual today.

Hermione looked up with Loren, her fair face reflecting the sunlight. She couldn't understand why the brightening sky meant it was going to rain.

Harry didn't look up; he gazed at the horizon outside the school, where some blurry black shadows moved through the clouds— the Dementor that hadn't yet left.

Ron, standing beside him, urged, "Let's go, stop looking, let's get to Hagrid's place as soon as possible."

So the group turned their attention away and strode toward Hagrid's Hut.

Crookshanks was squatting on the steps, slowly raised his head, opened his mouth and limbs wide, stretched, and then jumped down the steps and followed a few young wizards with small steps.

"It's just a regular birthday, there's no need to go all the way to Hagrid's for barbecue, is there?"

Amidst the rustling footsteps, Hermione asked softly. Having just gotten up, her voice was gentle and delicate, like the autumn wind rustling through the leaves.

"Come on, your birthday is on the weekend! How can you just let it pass by like that!" Ron exclaimed. "By the way, did you open the birthday present I gave you? It's a magical notebook that can be erased and rewritten without leaving a trace. I spent ages choosing it..."

He showed it off eagerly, as if he had received a gift rather than given one.

Hermione smiled and said, "Thank you. I really like that notebook, and Harry, I also really like the ' A Complete History of Magic in Britain ' that you gave me."

Loren, who was walking beside her, turned his head, his eyes narrowed into slits, and stared intently at her.

"Watch where you're going, be careful not to fall." Hermione reached out and turned his head back, a helpless expression on her face, and whispered in his ear, "Even though you haven't given me your present yet, I like anything from you. Okay?"

Loren then turned around to look at the road ahead, a smile playing on his lips.

There were few people on the road outside the Castle. On weekend mornings, most young wizards would stay in bed for most of the morning, and the few early risers wouldn't come out to play at this time.

Walking on the soft path, thanks to the fallen leaves that kept out the mud, my feet felt soft and my shoes stayed clean. Only the dew had unknowingly soaked my trouser legs.

None of them were wearing magic robes; they wore simple shirts with long-sleeved jackets or hoodies over them. A slight autumn breeze blew the moisture accumulated overnight onto their faces and necks, making them feel damp and cool, not cold, but rather somewhat refreshing.

Breathing in the cool air, Hermione's mind, which had been immersed in busy classes and assignments, gradually relaxed, and she slowly accepted this leisurely weekend birthday.

She seemed to recall the previous two years. Although the first year was filled with worry about the Sorcerer's Stone, and the second year was overshadowed by the Chamber of Secrets, they would still find a weekend each month to visit Hagrid's Hut. Most of the time, they wouldn't stay for Rock Cake lunch, but occasionally there would be fresh seasonal vegetables to try, and Loren would cook something simple...

Back then, we would walk along the same path, and our trouser legs would get wet from the dew.

Hermione was a little dazed. She suddenly realized that although there was no Sorcerer's Stone crisis or Basilisk disturbance in her third year, she seemed to be busier than ever, so busy that she almost missed the weekend.

A loud shout suddenly rang out from the quiet forest path, "Curveball!"

Hermione instinctively looked toward the source of the sound.

Loren shouted, and a small pebble shot out from under his feet.

The pebble flew out suddenly and disappeared straight into the grass without any spin or arc.

But the man was not discouraged. He enthusiastically searched the ground for the next pebble and tried to shoot a ball with an arc.

Seeing him try a few times, Harry became interested and quickened his pace to catch up with him. "Me too! Me too! There are a few moves in Quidditch that have an arc..."

Ron's eyes widened as he rushed over. "Quidditch? What Quidditch? Let me see..."

As a result, all the pebbles along the way suffered.

Hermione pursed her lips and couldn't help but smile. She followed behind the group at a leisurely pace, occasionally telling Crookshanks to stay away from the boys.

After passing the vegetable garden and Greenhouse, you can see the leaves of the Whomping Willow swaying gently in the distance. Walk along the Edge of the Forbidden Forest for a while, and when you hear the joyful chirping of the Fang, you will have arrived at Hagrid's Hut.

The hound, Fang, was standing inside the fence. When it saw the group of people, it slid smoothly out through a gap in the wooden fence and ran towards them, barking loudly.

Harry and Ron went up to him, bending down and quickly rubbing and kneading Fang's head, saying things like "Long time no see" and "You look fatter."

Fang waddled past the two and ran to Loren, nuzzling his leg. Seeing Crookshanks nearby, it wagged its tail happily and sniffed them. The action looked somewhat similar to how Harry and Ron rubbed its head.

Crookshanks remained calm and followed Loren steadily.

Good morning, little ones!

At the door of the Wooden House, the Half-Giant wearing Moleskin Coat poked his head out. Hagrid, beaming, shouted, "Loren, come and see! I did as you said, I prepared a lot of meat, and it's all chopped into chunks!"

Sizzle—

Sizzle—

The melted fat dripped onto the charcoal fire, making a pleasing sound. The fat and protein, marinated in spices, slowly cooked, releasing an increasingly enticing aroma.

A whole stone block is carved into a rectangular trough, lined with a layer of fruitwood charcoal, and topped with a crudely made wire mesh. This is the barbecue grill that Hagrid made.

Whether it was made by magic or by hand, it wasn't particularly exquisite, but it was large enough for a Half-Giant and four little wizards to each grill their own meat.

Ron, with several skewers of beef and mutton laid out in front of him, stood next to Loren, mechanically flipping his skewers while constantly glancing at Loren's. He subconsciously sniffed a few times, the enticing aroma growing stronger, making his stomach rumble.

It's strange, the meat was all chopped by Hagrid, the sauce was all made by Loren... the same sauce for marinating, the same way of turning it, but Loren's just smells better.

"Suck--"

Ron took a deep breath, the aroma becoming even stronger. He secretly turned his head, wanting to observe Loren's technique and try to learn it from him.

He looked up and met Harry's gaze. The two exchanged a knowing glance and looked at each other without saying a word.

Ignoring the thoughts of the people around him, Loren leisurely flipped the roasted meat.

It is often said that the best ingredients require the simplest cooking methods. For most people, fresh meat is the best ingredient, and grilling is the simplest cooking method.

Not only in China, but this primitive cooking technique is used all over the world. German Barbecue is large and hearty, with various leg meats, shanks, and steaks, and the portions are generous and filling. Brazilian Barbecue is unique and even has a place in China.

Britain, often considered a culinary wasteland, also enjoys barbecues, with sausages, chicken skewers, peppers, and vegetable skewers served with sauces... all the same in spirit.

To cater to everyone's tastes, Loren reduced the amount of the heavily spicy and numbing sauce and added some sweet and sour flavors.

The marbled beef and mutton sizzled with oil, and the white chicken was marinated to a reddish-brown color, exuding a rich aroma. The oil and sauce seemed to have seeped into the very fabric of the meat.

The gutted sea bass lay peacefully on the iron plate, its eyes devoid of any eerie light; its eyeballs had been separated by Crookshanks and Fang during the marinating process. At this time of year, the sea bass's body is filled with fat stored for winter, making it very plump and flavorful. It was simply marinated with oyster sauce, cooking wine, and black pepper, and served with onions.

There was also buttered corn, vegetable salad...

A few minutes later, Loren picked up a skewer of mutton, blew on it to cool it down, and then tasted a piece. "It's ready, be careful, it's hot."

He gathered the skewers together, shook off the oil, gave half to Hermione, and the rest to the others.

"Thank you..." Ron said blankly, taking the skewer and eagerly putting it in his mouth, hissing and panting even though it was so hot that he was panting and sticking out his tongue.

Hermione blew on it, took a small bite, and her eyes narrowed into slits with delight.

The meat skewers are grilled to a slightly charred brown color. With one bite, the rich sauce and oil are squeezed out from the meat, coating the tongue and bringing out a strong meaty aroma.

An hour later, everyone found a place to sit down, gathered around the barbecue grill, patted their round bellies, and stared unfocusedly at the still-smoldering embers.

Looking at the half-eaten plate of buttered corn still remaining, Hagrid sighed deeply. He couldn't eat anymore, he really couldn't eat anymore. Even a Pure-blood Half-Giant wouldn't be able to eat this much, let alone a half-giant. The food was prepared in advance; how much could a few little wizards, a cat, and a dog possibly eat? The rest all ended up in Hagrid's stomach.

Hagrid could only watch blankly, sighing with melancholy.

No one paid any attention to the messy barbecue scene. Loren and Hermione sat side by side on two small stools near the door. They were originally leaning against the door frame, but the wooden frame was too slippery, and inexplicably their shoulders and heads ended up touching.

Crookshanks lay beneath their bench, its belly exposed. Despite its ginger-yellow coat, it had some white stray fur on its belly. Fang lay at Hagrid's feet, its belly bulging uncomfortably, whimpering softly and continuously.

Ron was whispering with Harry about Quidditch recruitment, "What should we do? Wood said I have to go through the selection process with the others too?"

Harry found it amusing. "Weren't you very confident?"

"I'm afraid I won't have good luck that day, and what if I can't beat them..."

"Don't worry, I can help you train."

"What can a Seeker do to help the goalkeeper train? I feel like some of your skills aren't even as good as mine."

"You!"