Third Year Ends

After lunch, at the Edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid's Hut.

Over the years, the Half-Giant had trodden out a wide path that stretched from the direction of the Castle into the depths of the Forbidden Forest, circling the simple but sturdy Wooden House several times and cutting out several flat vegetable plots.

The largest of the plots is a pumpkin patch, which produces pumpkins bigger than a person every year. George and Fred have always wanted to make the biggest pumpkin into Jack-o'-lantern and hang it in the Gryffindor Common Room on Halloween using Levitation Charm, but they haven't been able to do so yet.

After noon, the sun was at its hottest, but fortunately, a refreshing breeze continued to blow through the forest, making it comfortable and pleasant.

Hermione sat on the third step, her legs naturally stretched out and hanging down, holding an old notebook and studying it, her expression quiet and focused.

Sunlight streamed down from the treetops, making her fair cheeks and neck glisten with a shimmering glow.

These are Professor Lupin's notes, mainly about controlling the size of physical Patronus Patronus and using them to send messages. They retrieved them from their office after seeing Professor Lupin off this morning and are currently studying them.

Loren sat on the fifth step, resting his chin on Hermione's left shoulder, awkwardly looking at his notes, occasionally sniffing the girl's scent.

"As a high-level spell, the Patronus Charm is more difficult to control than other spells, but that doesn't mean it's uncontrollable. While focusing on controlling the Magic Power, one must also focus on controlling one's mind..."

Splash—

Hermione flicked her fingers and turned the page.

The head on the left shoulder shook slightly, letting out a dissatisfied nasal groan.

Hermione realized he hadn't finished reading the previous page, so she turned back with a sigh and asked while waiting for him to finish reading, "Why don't you use a Reparation Charm like Harry and Ron did?"

Loren glanced outside and saw that the two of them had only looked at the notes for less than ten minutes before they started playing wildly with Fang, running around Hagrid who was weeding in the pumpkin patch, just like two other puppies.

Loren grunted twice, indicating that she could turn the page.

Now his chin is pressed down by his entire head, and he has to lift his head with difficulty to speak. He won't speak unless absolutely necessary.

Hermione reluctantly turned the page.

And so, the notes that should have taken two hours to review dragged on until sunset. The good news was that Hermione had studied them very carefully and had almost memorized them. She had basically mastered the theoretical knowledge and practice methods, and all that was left was to keep practicing.

Hermione plans to practice these techniques during the summer vacation.

Hogwarts Castle, the Library.

The young wizards lined up in a long queue at Madam Pince's counter, taking turns registering the books they wanted to borrow on parchment. Perhaps Professor McGonagall's control over the school had increased, because even the library's collection of books began to be loaned out during the holidays. In addition to the Muggle-born young wizards of previous years, many Pure-blood young wizards also joined the line to borrow books.

Some of the young wizards were scattered around the Library, passing the time with books they wouldn't normally read, and the registration line gradually shortened.

Hermione, sitting by the window, looked up from her book at the young wizards lining up to borrow books, and a strange sense of accomplishment rose within her.

This was the first time she had influenced so many people, as if she had changed the world a little bit.

"Going home for the weekend... I want to eat ice cream... I want to eat Monica's egg tarts and apple pie..."

Loren stopped writing with his quill pen on the letter and looked up at the girl beside him. "Is there anything else you want to add, Hermione? Add that we'll have the Hānhan send it home, so we won't need to bring the birdcage on the train."

Hermione looked down at the words "ice cream," "apple pie," and "egg tart" on the letter and said softly, "My mom and dad are both dentists, and they used to only let me eat these sugary foods a few times a year."

"Then you're lucky, you can enjoy dessert with me."

"..."

Hermione paused for a moment. She knew her mother would make these sweets for Loren, but she couldn't understand why her mother, who always paid attention to dental health, would indulge this person.

"Is there anything else we'd like to add?"

Hermione's eyes sparkled, and she pursed her lips, saying, "Cola! Ask Mom to buy some Coke."

Loren picked up his quill and dipped it in ink. "Then I'll write that you want to drink Coke..."

Hermione held his arm, looking at him seriously and earnestly. "It's you who wants to drink."

"Hey!" Loren chuckled. "Okay, okay, I want to drink it!"

Hermione craned her neck to watch him add a few more words to the blank page at the back of the letter, and after confirming that he hadn't revealed himself until the end, she looked away and pretended to be reading a book seriously.

Loren put the quill into the inkwell and dusted off the parchment paper. "The letter is finished. Now let's talk about the writing fee and the damages for reputational damage."

"What writing fee? What reputational damage?" Hermione looked at him in astonishment.

Loren said confidently, "Of course you should pay someone for writing a letter. You're asking for Coke in my name, isn't that damaging my reputation? What if Monica misunderstands and thinks I'm a bad kid who likes sweets and sugary drinks?"

"Is this even a misunderstanding?" Hermione laughed in exasperation.

"What are you saying? You're slandering me!"

"To tell the truth."

"Oh, you've hurt my feelings, and now you want to add compensation for emotional distress!"

"..."

The Girls' Bathroom on the Second Floor.

Moaning Myrtle was huddled in the toilet tank blowing bubbles, heard familiar footsteps and the sound of running water outside. She floated lightly out of the stall and saw Hermione washing her face with water. She went over and circled Hermione once, then stopped in mid-air and asked curiously, "Hermione, why is your face so red?"

"Moaning Myrtle!?"

Hermione gasped, her face turning even redder. "No, nothing... The sun is too strong outside, I came here to cool off."

"The sun..." Moaning Myrtle suddenly leaned closer and looked at her suspiciously. "Moaning Myrtle thinks you're lying, but she can't find any evidence."

"Let's not talk about that..." Hermione gradually calmed down and changed the subject, saying, "I heard that the ghost in the Girls' Bathroom has started splashing water to drive people away again. Is that you, Moaning Myrtle?"

"Oh, yes..."

Moaning Myrtle picked at the small dot on her chin with melancholy and sat on the water platform. "Ever since the Chamber of Secrets was discovered, those people have been constantly pestering me with questions. This is the second time Moaning Myrtle has become the focus of everyone's attention, and I'm really happy... By the way, the first time was when people had just discovered my body."

"But those people didn't care about Moaning Myrtle at all. They still called me Fat Moaning Myrtle and Ugly Moaning Myrtle behind my back! Poor, crying, sullen Moaning Myrtle..."

Moaning Myrtle's voice began to tremble with a hint of crying, as if she would start sobbing at any moment. "Oh, and Moaning Myrtle with her face full of pimples!"

Hermione felt a chill run down her spine and quickly comforted her, "No, don't cry, Moaning Myrtle. At least we won't say that about you. We're your friends..."

"Really?" Moaning Myrtle looked up at her, sobbing.

Hermione nodded reluctantly.

"Very good!"

Moaning Myrtle twirled around Hermione cheerfully, reaching out to grab her arm, but the ghostly arm passed right through it, leaving Moaning Myrtle with a hint of regret. "Hermione, just kill yourself."

"!"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"That way I can take you to see the boys showering. You don't know, they shower a lot when the weather gets hot... Oliver Wood from Gryffindor is graduating soon, and if you don't see it now, you won't be able to again."

"..."

Hermione silently made up her mind that she would never let Loren take a bath in the Prefects' Bathroom again.

"Thankfully, there's Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff; he's really handsome..."

After listening to Moaning Myrtle's grumbling for a while, Hermione tentatively suggested, "Why don't you find some other forms of entertainment, Moaning Myrtle? Like some more respectable hobbies, such as Sir Nicholas..."

"Do you think I don't want to?" Moaning Myrtle sobbed sadly. "But I'm not like other ghosts. I don't have any ghost friends. I can't take my head off! And I can't go to Kent to see my widow friend like Nearly Headless Nick does! While you're all home for the holidays, I'm stuck wandering around the Castle, hiding from that wretched Peeves!"

I think I've heard some strange news...

Hermione, forcing herself to speak, suggested, "Why not try putting on a play? Sir Nicholas's beheading performance is always a hit at banquets. I think you could try turning the story of the Basilisk into a stage play."

"Really?" Moaning Myrtle's eyes suddenly lit up with joy.

Hermione nodded carefully and slowly. "We can give it a try."

"Great, Hermione! Once you're dead, I'll definitely show you lots of boys taking baths!"

Moaning Myrtle cheered, rose into the air, turned around, and plunged headfirst into the toilet, splashing water that gurgled and disappeared down the drainpipe.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, patted her cheeks, and walked outside.

Dealing with Moaning Myrtle felt even more difficult than dealing with Loren.

Soon it was the last day of the semester, and the exam results came out. Loren and his friends passed every exam, and even Harry passed Potions Master.

Hermione remained first in her grade, and in a good mood, she no longer held a grudge against Loren's extortion.

Percy achieved a high score on the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, while Fred and George also managed to get some points on their Ordinary Wizarding Levels.

Gryffindor House relied heavily on its outstanding performance in the Quidditch Cup, winning the House Cup for the third consecutive year, which meant that the end-of-term party was held in red and gold decorations.

The Gryffindor table was the liveliest, with everyone celebrating, especially the Quidditch team members, who surrounded Wood and made a ruckus for a long time until Professor McGonagall glared at them a few times and they finally quieted down.

"I didn't see Professor Lupin..."

Neville cautiously looked around, then lowered his head and asked, "Is he sick again?"

Loren paused, putting down his knife and fork, and sighed, "Neville, Professor Lupin has resigned and left the school."

"Resign?" Neville was taken aback. "But I haven't thanked him yet. My parents heard that my Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor is Mr. Lupin, and they asked me to pass on their greetings... To be honest, I didn't even know they knew each other."

Hermione comforted her, "Don't worry, Neville, we'll meet again."

Neville sat on the stool in a daze, and it took him several minutes to come to his senses before he slowly ate the food on the table.

Compared to Neville, Loren and the others learned the news a few days earlier and had already moved on from the shadow of parting.

Harry returned to his seat with the beef ribs, gnawing on them as he said, "I think I was Dumbledore intervened to prevent Snape from deliberately failing me."

"Mmm!" Ron's cheeks were stuffed full of roasted chicken legs, so he couldn't say a complete sentence.

Harry glanced furtively at the professors in the High Table and met Snape's gaze. He saw the muscles at the corner of Snape's thin lips twitch unsightly, and his fingers were constantly flexing and straightening on the table, as if he wanted to choke someone.

Sensing Snape's bad mood, Harry was even happier, and even Professor Lupin's disappointment at missing the end-of-term party was overshadowed.

Snape saw Harry's silly smile on the long table and looked away in disgust.

It's unbearable to look at.

His face was covered in steak grease and sauce; I really don't know how he ate. Did he learn to gnaw on bones from Hagrid's hounds...?

Dumbledore sat beside him, watching the joyful scene among the young wizards in the Great Hall. He sniffed and said, deeply moved, "Sincere and passionate emotions are as intoxicating as the aroma of Winky bread. I've seen this scene year after year, but each time it moves me as deeply as the first time..."

"Oh, I can hardly hold back my tears! Can you feel it, Severus?"

Snape replied coldly, "No."

"That's really a shame..."

"Sorry, we're all probably busy planning our summer business. Pomona is going to Africa to check on raw materials, Minerva is checking accounts and negotiating with others, and Filius and I are both too busy to handle everything..."

Snape scoffed, "Unlike you, our leisurely headmaster, we don't smell the ' Winky aroma'!"

Dumbledore blinked, deciding to defend himself, and said in a wronged tone, "But I need to prepare for the upcoming International Confederation of Wizards, and next year's Triwizard Tournament, no, maybe the Triwizard Tournament."

"Triwizard Tournament?"

"Yes." Dumbledore stroked his beard, picked up his knife and fork, and cut a piece of steak. "They decided to restart the Triwizard Tournament, and even Ilvermorny from United States got involved, so it became Triwizard Tournament."

"At a time like this..." Snape frowned and looked at him, "I think we should be on the safe side and not let strangers into Hogwarts, especially— Ilvermorny from United States."

"Don't be so tense, we can relax a bit."

Dumbledore was clearly aware of his concerns, but his tone was not clear, even sounding somewhat noncommittal. "Voldemort has not been fully resurrected yet. Under the supervision of the four magic schools and the Ministry of Magic, he can only cautiously keep his tail between his legs..."

Moreover, unexpected events are not necessarily a bad thing...

Dumbledore picked up a piece of beef with his knife and fork and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly and forcefully, his deep blue eyes hidden behind his glasses, blurry and indistinct.