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"Give me back my Galleons, Silver Sickle, and do you want the special edition of the Goblin Silver Coin that My Fairy Silver Coins and Hermione's are..."

Loren muttered under his breath as he returned to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, only to find Harry loudly plotting with Neville, instructing him to keep in touch with the Aurors parents to gather information and maintain communication during the holidays, ideally one letter Monday. Neville listened intently as Harry recited the names of the Death Eater, his expression serious as he gripped the Memory Charm in one hand.

"Lucius Malfoy, McNair, Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle ..."

"Loren! Loren!"

"?"

Why am I here too?

Loren paused for a moment, then looked over in surprise.

Pickley Gravis, his tan skin matte in the sunlight, hurried up the stone steps to the Castle Entrance Hall. Behind him, at the far end of the field, Loren could see the bright yellow school bus with its stop sign retracted. Headmaster Aegilbert Headmaster Fontana stood at the door, urging the young wizards of Ilvermorny to get on the bus as soon as possible.

"Loren, Harry, Hermione, and Ron ..." Gravis walked up and shook hands with each of them. "I hope we can meet again. I've learned a lot from the dueling practice. Loren, I hope I'll have the chance to see your amazing spells again in the future. Hermione, your Transfiguration has broadened my horizons. And Harry, I hope I won't be so embarrassed by your Disarming Charm next time we meet."

Gravis paused for a moment, looked at Ron's eager gaze, and couldn't help but chuckle, "Your brilliant tactics are also something to look forward to."

"Hehe..." Ron laughed contentedly, showing his front teeth in a silly way.

A sharp siren blared urgently. Gravis turned around and strode towards the Ilvermorny bus that was about to start moving, waving to them without looking back. "Goodbye, everyone. It was a pleasure seeing you all!"

"I also have to say goodbye to you all, Harry, Loren, Ron, and Hermione." Phoebe Delacour walked over with a gentle smile, and even kissed Ron on the cheek as she greeted each of them. "Gabrielle, I'm saying goodbye to you all. Thank you for taking care of me during this time... We'll see each other again soon. I hope to find a job here and improve my English."

"Your English is good enough," Ron said absentmindedly.

Seeing his silly expression, Phoebe laughed and said, "Goodbye, everyone!"

In the open field, the sturdy Thestral spread their wings, and Hagrid was helping Madam Maxime saddle the two horses. Beauxbatons ' carriage was about to depart.

Her retreating figure, running along the lawn towards Madam Maxime, attracted the attention of many young wizards. Her long, silvery hair rippled like waves in the sunlight, instantly bringing joy to everyone.

Loren watched her gradually disappear into the distance, admiring her closely while making sounds of admiration.

Hermione glanced at him. "Does it look good?"

"Beautiful." Loren nodded without changing his expression. "Small head, long and slender neck, well-proportioned figure, smooth body lines, and appropriate proportions."

"..." Hermione was silent for a moment. The comments were professional and lacked any subjective bias, and for a moment she couldn't find any points to refute or criticize.

The sunlight grew increasingly dazzling, and the large ship, which had been anchored on the lake for months, began to rock, creating a splashing sound. The black masts rose high, and Durmstrang's young wizard climbed down the planks into the cabin.

Ron squinted and peered into the distance, muttering under his breath, "Do you think they can still steer that ship without Karkaroff?"

"Karkaroff is not at the helm."

A hoarse, muffled voice came from below the steps, growing closer and closer. "He always stays in his cabin, and we do the work. This time, Professor Flitwick is escorting us back to Durmstrang."

Viktor Krum, dressed in a black robe, walked over, his face still cold and stern, his gloomy gaze sweeping over the faces of the group.

Harry Potter's brow furrowed slightly, probably worried about Voldemort. Ron Weasley looked eager, probably hoping to get an autograph... Meanwhile, Loren Morgan was whispering to Hermione. Sunlight fell on their shoulders, making their brown hair shimmer with golden light, and the girl smiled.

Krum's eyes dimmed as he shook hands with Harry: "Your flying skills are excellent. I hope to have the opportunity to meet you at the Quidditch World Cup."

"Thank you for the compliment, but I haven't decided yet whether I want to be a professional player in the future..." Harry quickly shook hands with him. "Your performance was also excellent, both in the Quidditch World Cup and in the Triwizard Tournament Goblet of Fire."

I wish you all the best.

Krum's voice was calm and composed. He didn't greet the others. After saying this, he turned and left, heading towards Durmstrang's large ship.

"Hopefully they can find a more reliable principal..." Ron watched him walk away.

The wooden planks connecting the hull to the lake shore were retracted, and with a clattering sound, the heavy anchor was pulled back into the cabin. The jet-black hull rocked and swayed on the water, sailing a distance into the deeper water before gradually sinking into the lake. The faint light flickering from the porthole also disappeared.

A loud train whistle blew from afar, and only the sound of footsteps echoed from the front of the carriages as the young wizards of Hogwarts boarded the special train to return home.

Under a cloudless, azure sky, rolling hills are covered with vegetation, with lush flowers and verdant trees. The railway tracks are hidden deep in the mountains. In this seemingly fantastical and mysterious world, a bright red train winds its way out of the wilderness.

Inside the carriage, the Pigwidgeon was hidden by Ron's robe because it was too active and squealed and ran around the compartment. The Hānhan stood next to Hedwig, its head tucked under its wings and dozing off. Crookshanks was curled up in an empty seat, looking like a big, fluffy ginger-yellow cushion.

Hermione glanced down at the two report cards with the same Grade Report.

His Potions Master score was much higher than mine, but his scores in A History of Magic and Transfiguration practice exams made up for the difference, resulting in two tied-for-first-place Grade Report.

Hermione sighed in frustration, "How could Potions Master get so many points deducted?"

Loren leaned over for a glance, his breath carrying the refreshing sweet scent of mints. "Just skip one fill-in-the-blank question."

"??"

The other three people in the carriage fell silent. Ron angrily crumpled his Grade Report into a ball and stuffed it into his bag. In previous years, Harry had gotten the same score as him, but this year the boy had used his status Champion to despicably escape the exam.

Disgraceful!

Harry, who didn't have Grade Report, coughed and decided to change the subject away from meaningless grades and scores. "You know, Mrs. Weasley invited me to the Burrow, but Dumbledore refused. He still insists that I stay on Privet Drive for a month, and I can't even go to Sirius Black's place..."

He sighed, "I don't understand why the Ancient Magic my mother left on me has all been broken by Voldemort..."

Ron nodded approvingly. "With Voldemort lurking outside and a bunch of Death Eater, the Burrow is much safer than the Muggle neighborhood."

"Trust Dumbledore. He must have his reasons for doing this." Hermione's mind drifted back to Dumbledore's strange words from last night. She pursed her lips and continued to persuade him, "Harry, do you really want to see what your mother left you just disappear like this, just because you think it can no longer protect you?"

Harry was stunned.