A Mental Spa Couldn't Compare to Homework Brutality

Loren spent some time reading through the book list Snape had given him. Perhaps he no longer needed to win Snape's favor, but after reading so much already, he felt like he would be losing out if he did not finish them.

Potion theory was a hodgepodge of subjects. It included extracting individual components from certain materials, much like Muggle chemistry, which held that the effects of certain herbs came from particular substances within them.

Using the juice of beans, extracting plant stems with alcohol, distilling active ingredients from certain liquids—these all resembled the chemistry Loren had learned before.

Some ingredients were used for their symbolic meaning. Day and night were different, a Full Moon and a waning moon were different, and dew touched by sunlight was different from dew touched by moonlight.

When stirring a boiling cauldron, if the instructions said to stir clockwise, then one could only stir clockwise. If you stirred up and down or side to side, it might cause an explosion.

Magic obeyed certain objective laws, yet it also broke certain objective laws. Loren did not want to investigate further; he might never find the answers in his lifetime.

That evening, Harry, Ron, and Neville returned to the dormitory together, looking very pleased with themselves.

Loren grinned mischievously. "Harry, how was training this afternoon? Did Wood make you play the Quaffle?"

Harry blushed a little. Skipping out on people for an entire morning really was not very ethical. "It was fine. The other players were all very friendly."

Wood had indeed been furious, but Angelina had soothed him from the side, while George and Fred's banter had diverted much of his anger. In the end, he patiently let Harry begin proper training.

Feeling guilty, Harry gave it everything he had. He flew wildly around the pitch on his broom, completely disrupting everyone else's positioning.

Wood saw Harry's outstanding Flying Talent, but he also saw that Harry knew absolutely nothing about Quidditch.

Watching Harry race around the field only to be scolded by the others left Wood both exasperated and amused. In the end, he properly guided Harry.

Once things got on track, the team atmosphere was excellent. Wood became even happier. With Harry as their secret weapon, he felt that this year's Quidditch Cup was not out of reach.

Encouraged—or rather, egged on—by Ron, Neville also mounted a broom and tried flying for a while. His feet were practically brushing the ground, and he was barely faster than Ron walking beside him.

Neville stammered through his flying experience from his bed, the smile never leaving his face. "I... I flew past Ron. Oh, you have no idea what it looked like! I almost crashed right into him..."

Everyone had changed into pajamas, but Harry was still wearing his outer clothes and had not gotten into bed.

Ron turned around and noticed too. He let out an incredulous shriek. "You're not going to sneak out again to see that mirror, are you?!"

"Take me with you!" Seamus, who had already been lying down, sprang upright the moment he heard that.

After learning that the others in the dormitory had gone sneaking around the previous night, Seamus's first thought was not whether they would lose points. It was that he had missed an exciting adventure and lost the chance to brag to Dean. What a terrible loss.

Seamus was full of resentment. Why? Why were there five people in the dormitory, four had gone, and only he had foolishly slept through it?

No. No matter what, he had to go tonight.

Loren grabbed the pillow beside him and hurled it fiercely at Seamus. "Stop making trouble!"

Then he looked at Harry and began persuading him. "Harry, do you remember what was written on that mirror?"

The green in Harry's eyes dimmed slightly. He nodded. "It does not show us your face but your heart's desire."

"Your parents and family are not really inside the mirror. They are only illusions. Do you understand?"

"But..." Harry did not know what to say. He only wanted to look at his mother and father a little longer.

"Did you enjoy your Quidditch training this afternoon?"

Harry nodded.

"You could have had a whole day filled with that kind of happiness. You should have started training this morning."

Harry seemed to understand a little. The vague, intangible shadows in the magic mirror had worn away his time.

"You can look a hundred times, and your parents still will not know. You have given the love you feel for them to a mirror."

Ron and Neville listened quietly as well. They knew Harry should not keep looking at that mirror, but they could not explain why. Loren's words made them understand too.

Only Seamus was dying to see the mirror.

What about me?! What about me?!

You have all seen it! I have not even seen it once!

Seamus screamed thunderously in his heart, but he did not dare say it aloud. Sob, sob, sob. The dormitory is excluding me. He hated himself. Why had he gone to sleep so early last night? Could he not have slept a little less over the weekend?

Harry was still silent. He was still somewhat reluctant to let it go.

Seeing this, Loren could only bring out his trump card. "Transfiguration Class is tomorrow morning. Have you finished the homework Professor McGonagall assigned?"

The ultimate move dealt too much damage. It instantly took out Ron, who had been watching from the sidelines, too. Harry and Ron expertly wore identical looks of terror.

"Help!"

Seamus and Neville both felt that this scene looked rather familiar. Hadn't those two been exactly like this last week?

Under his blanket, Loren took out Nicol's Fantasy Book. He gently pressed the first symbol with his finger and entered the Library.

Bookshelves stood in neat rows, the lights were bright, and the tables and chairs were spotless.

"Good evening, Flamel!" Loren greeted the figure floating in the air.

"Good evening, Loren. Today, we will begin by learning Hebrew." Flamel wore a gentle smile.

The writing in The Book of Abraham was not limited to one language, but Hebrew was its primary language.

Nicol did not intend to teach Loren a translated version. The original content might become distorted through translation, and different people might interpret the same material differently.

Nicol believed Loren could not follow the same old path he had taken. They would not live the same life. In an equally turbulent era, if Loren followed his translations, he might not even be able to make an incomplete Sorcerer's Stone.

Besides Hebrew, there were Latin scripts, as well as various magical patterns from the field of Alchemy that could communicate and transmit Magic Power. Among the pile of books, Loren even spotted some ancient Chinese writing.

According to Flamel, Loren would have no use for the rooms farther inside for quite some time.

As for the Duel Chamber, first-year Loren only had a somewhat powerful Colloportus. He knew only a few basic spells otherwise and had virtually no combat ability. Flamel could hardly turn into an elementary school student and play at dueling with him.

After looking over the book list Snape had given Loren, Flamel believed that this Hogwarts Potions Master truly deserved to be called a potion master. These books could indeed provide an excellent framework for organizing theoretical knowledge. At this stage, it was enough for Loren to follow this teacher's instruction.

As for Alchemy, if he progressed quickly, he should be able to get started before Christmas and begin learning some simple alchemical knowledge.

Loren spent the entire night laboriously memorizing strange syllables and identifying all kinds of bizarre writing.

Outside the Fantasy Book, Harry and Ron were also laboriously referring to Loren, Neville, and Seamus's Transfiguration Class homework.