Oh, So I Forgot to Write a Letter

After leaving the world within the book, Loren found himself lying on his side on the carpet, with Complete Guide to Hieroglyphs resting quietly beside him.

He rolled over and lay flat beside the window, golden sunlight spilling across his face—warm, pleasantly ticklish, and comfortable. He stretched his arms and legs wide, trying to let every part of himself soak up the sun.

Closing his eyes, he began sorting through his thoughts.

Everything that had happened today had come without warning. He had known before that Complete Guide to Hieroglyphs and The Book of Abraham had extraordinary origins, but that was all.

Even after learning that the contents concerning the Sorcerer's Stone were real, Loren had not paid them much attention. Whether it was turning stone into gold or achieving immortality, he did not particularly crave either of them—not to mention that he might not even be able to understand it.

After mastering magic, he planned to return to the Muggle world. Combining a transmigrator's knowledge with magic, earning enough money to enjoy life would not be difficult. It might even be easier than turning stone into gold.

As for immortality, Loren had no real concept of it. Dumbledore had lived for more than a hundred years through his own abilities alone, and in the end, he had essentially committed suicide. Who knew how long wizards could live? Immortality might not have that many benefits after all.

Voldemort had attempted to use the Sorcerer's Stone to restore his body. If it could create a body out of thin air, then it should be able to treat Grandpa Bates as well, right?

Come to think of it, after Harry defeated Voldemort for the first time, Dumbledore planned to destroy the Sorcerer's Stone to prevent it from being used by evil people. When the time came, Loren could borrow it from him. Using it to heal someone was hardly a bad purpose.

Judging from Lupin's situation, Dumbledore was not prejudiced against kind Werewolves. On the contrary, he looked after them. If Loren confessed everything to him directly and asked for his help buying some Wolfsbane Potion from Snape, there should be no problem keeping Grandpa Bates safe and sound until the end of the school year.

Wait, Grandpa Bates!

!!!

Loren remembered what he had been forgetting all this time—he had forgotten to write Grandpa Bates a letter.

It had been nearly half a month since school started, and he had not written Grandpa Bates once. When he went home for the holidays, he was probably going to get the beating of his life.

Loren had nearly fallen asleep while sunbathing and thinking, but now he jolted awake. He scrambled up, took out paper and pen, and wrote a lengthy letter of greeting.

He first briefly introduced his daily life and assured Grandpa Bates that everything was fine. Then he asked after his health, advising him that he ought to accept his age and buy a small house in a big city, where life would be more convenient. On full-moon nights, he only needed to lock himself up again—the Werewolves in the wizarding world did the same.

The wording and tone of the letter were extremely disrespectful. If Loren had been beside Bates while he read it, Bates would definitely have beaten Loren's backside to pieces with a stick without hesitation. Unfortunately, Loren certainly would not be there when that happened.

Next, he needed to find a mail carrier. Loren left the Castle, asking for directions as he went, and eventually found the Owlery not far from the Forbidden Forest.

Several hundred owls lived there. Feathers were everywhere, but it was not noisy. It was nearly noon, and most of the owls were sleeping, creating an unexpectedly harmonious atmosphere.

The Owlery did not have the strange smell Loren had imagined. The House-elves had kept it very clean.

With the House-elves' help, Loren finally found his little Hānhan, the Spectacled Owl. It had put on quite a bit of weight in the past few days, but it still looked just as dopey as ever, curled up in its little wooden house with its head bobbing forward and back.

Perhaps his footsteps had woken it. When the little Spectacled Owl saw Loren, its eyes lit up with delight. It clumsily flew toward him, landed on his shoulder, and repeatedly pecked at his head with its beak in complaint.

Loren was not annoyed. He gathered little Hānhan into his hands, gave it a thorough petting, comforted it for a while, and finally handed over the letter.

After the House-elves helped the owl make all the necessary preparations, little Hānhan began its first mission.

Loren returned to the Castle just in time for lunch.

Only after conscientiously finishing the last rib on his plate did he look up and notice that Ron was the only one at the table, working on a chicken leg. Harry was nowhere to be seen. Strange—those two were usually inseparable, yet today they were not even eating together.

"Hey, Ron, where's your twin brother?" Loren asked with a smile.

Ron had a chicken leg stuffed in his mouth. He rolled his eyes dramatically at Loren, swallowed the meat, and only then said slowly, "Don't mention him. He spent the entire morning grinning stupidly in front of that mirror. I even had to bring his lunch over."

"Hermione and Neville both tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen to anyone."

This was probably when Dumbledore was supposed to step in, give Harry a bowl of chicken soup for the soul, and finally take away the Mirror of Erised.

Loren happened to need Dumbledore as well. He looked toward the High Table, only to find that the Headmaster was not there.

He was actually eating so many snacks that he had skipped his meal. Loren needed to give that man a proper scolding.

"See you, Ron! Remember to bring Harry something to drink!" Loren ran out of the dining hall and headed for the Headmaster's office.

But this time, he came up empty-handed. In front of the monster statues, Loren ran into Professor McGonagall. She told him, "The Ministry of Magic has some matters that require Dumbledore's attention. He won't be back until Wednesday."

Wednesday. He was probably dealing with the public trial.

Unable to see Dumbledore, Loren decided to stop by and check on Harry first. On the way, he even ran into Wood.

In the abandoned classroom, Neville was there in addition to Ron and Harry. He had brought Harry some food too.

By the time Loren entered, Harry had nearly finished eating.

Ron and Neville were earnestly trying to persuade Harry that it was wrong to spend all day in front of that mirror, but neither of them could come up with much of an argument. In the end, they could only helplessly watch Harry continue to slack off.

"Harry, Wood is going crazy looking for you."

With that one sentence, Harry cried out, "Oh no! The team has practice today! He was going to teach me some basic Quidditch rules!"

Wood was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Professor McGonagall had already introduced the two of them, and Wood thought highly of Harry. He had even suggested to Professor McGonagall that Harry be bought a better broomstick.

Although Harry's broom had not arrived yet, he had arranged with Wood to join the training session on the pitch on Sunday.

Wood wanted to introduce Harry to the rest of the team and teach him the actual rules of Quidditch while he was at it.

"Wood's waiting for you on the pitch!"

Harry could no longer sit still. Though he wanted to stay with his family, he clearly could not stand Wood up again. Otherwise, Professor McGonagall might turn him into a Quaffle for Wood to practice with.