A Fairly Peaceful Holiday

Stepping out of the Castle's outer gate, a long, straight stone path winds along the woods. It's a secluded path; perhaps it was once bustling, but now only ginkgo trees and some unnamed trees remain. The path is covered with dried, yellow leaves, and each step produces a rustling sound as the leaves break underfoot.

Loren and Hermione strolled along the cobblestone path, while Jokins and Winky remained inside the Castle, looked after by Winky.

As the sun rose higher, it seemed as if the only sounds in the world were the soft footsteps and distant birdsong. Several early birds, having already eaten their fill, perched on the lush branches, tilting their heads and curiously observing the two people, showing no fear of humans whatsoever.

Loren was surveying his surroundings.

Like a tranquil paradise secluded from the world, far from the town, the lush forest stretches as far as the eye can see, a stream flows through the forest and babbles incessantly, and dappled sunlight shines through the treetops onto the stone path and fallen leaves, quiet and peaceful.

Looking back, the outer walls of Crouch Castle are slightly yellowed, with a few specks of green sprouting from the cracks in the stones. Because it has been unattended and uninhabited for a long time, unknown seeds have taken root and sprouted, and they will probably spread along the walls soon. I wonder how long it will take, but it will probably be a different scene full of vitality.

The former owners will not return; new residents will live here.

"Call..."

Loren held Hermione's slender, white fingers tightly, and with a forceful pull, he lifted her hands high in an arc. When both hands reached their highest point, he suddenly released the force, and the clasped hands fell back down under the influence of gravity, drawing another arc. The two hands shook repeatedly like this.

Hermione tilted her head slightly and rolled her eyes. "Is it fun?"

"It's fun."

Hermione felt the hand squeeze her again, and she looked helpless. What could she do? She couldn't very well beat him up just for shaking her head. "Did you just cure Miss Jokins ' amnesia?"

"It can't be considered cured..." Loren took a step forward, swinging his arms. "For the next period of time, she will intermittently dream about the memories that Crouch sealed away. When she recalls everything, she will naturally be able to break free from the shackles of the Memory Charm."

"Then... can Lockhart also be treated in this way?"

"Unfortunately, no." Loren shook his head. "Lockhart's spell completely ruined his brain. He not only lost most of his memories but also his normal thinking ability. Miss Jokins ' injuries are much less severe, and she can still think normally..."

Listening to his muttered explanations in her ear, Hermione glanced back and sighed softly. At least Mr. Crouch hadn't put her in an unforgivable situation. She hoped that Miss Jokins, after remembering everything, could still come here to pay her respects to him with a clear conscience.

The birds on the branches tilted their heads, watching the two figures disappear into the distance. They chirped a few times, then spread their wings and soared into the azure sky, leaving only a few light feathers to fall.

The towering towers seem to reach into the clouds.

Dumbledore stood on the top floor of the tower, his wide wizard robes billowing in the wind, his white beard tied together with a rubber band. He looked calmly into the distance, like an old man with nothing to do gazing at the scenery, unsure of what he was looking at or whether he was looking at everything.

Looking at his beard and face alone, no one would guess that he is the greatest wizard in the Wizarding World today, and no one would guess that he fought a battle with the Dark Lord just a few nights ago, and that he has now broken with the Minister for Magic and is besieged on all sides.

The old wizard seemed completely unconcerned; his peaceful gaze reflected the Black Lake Forbidden Forest, the winding paths leading out of the Castle, and the azure sky.

Snape stood behind him expressionlessly, his voice reporting recent intelligence without any fluctuation, "... He believes that the accident that night was related to the Prophecy, and he has repeatedly asked me about the details of the Prophecy, but I don't know the complete Prophecy either."

Snape paused here, his rigid expression finally showing a change. "He has learned that all the Prophecy are kept in the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic, and has sent spies within the Ministry of Magic to steal them."

"No need to worry, Severus ..." Dumbledore said calmly, seemingly delighted by the silver fish leaping out of the Black Lake. "I've already gone with Alastor to check, and in fact, the magic orb storing the Prophecy can only be retrieved by the person associated with the Prophecy."

Snape's face slowly darkened, his voice turning cold. "So, it's just him and Harry..."

"Harry is hiding in a safe place, and I've arranged for Mundungus Fletcher to stay by his side."

"That shady dealer?" Snape chuckled weakly. "Albus, do you really think he's trustworthy?"

"Hmm... I've also arranged for other people."

"And what about him? How do you know he won't go to the Ministry of Magic himself to get it?"

"I know him. He lacks the necessary courage, especially when he sees those who are already dead standing before him..." Dumbledore comforted gently. "I assure you, Severus, he wouldn't dare to put himself in that danger."

Snape stared intently at him, his irritated gaze feeling like a tangible stab to his back.

"By the way, how's Harry's Occlumency training going?"

"His mind is so empty you can hear the echo, enough to let Hippogriff roam freely within it, until its wings are sore and it can't even find a place to land," Snape scoffed. "I've never seen such a stupid student."

"The willingness to open one's heart to others is a rare quality," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Give him a chance to practice, and he will show his talent."

Bates sat upright at the dining table, his back straight. He had just gotten up and finished washing his face and brushing his teeth, and his gray hair hadn't been styled yet.

My eyes swept over the breakfast in front of me: a nearly perfect round fried egg with a slightly browned yolk right in the center of the egg white; freshly baked bread emitting an intoxicating aroma of wheat; and glistening, tempting fried sausages. Paired with several blanched leafy green vegetables, it was a nutritionally balanced and varied meal.

He couldn't help but frown slightly, pondering a question that Loren had been thinking about since he was 8 years old: who exactly is the parent?

Whose child has developed superb culinary skills from a young age?

Whose child comes home for vacation and is served a lavish breakfast?

Why get up so early during summer vacation instead of sleeping in? I stayed up all night writing a letter, revising it repeatedly, until dawn before I finally transcribed a letter without any spelling errors. Before I knew it, I overslept and missed the chance to make him breakfast.

Speaking of getting up early, that kid Loren left before I even got out of bed, apparently with Hermione. I wonder what he went on doing? He just left without even leaving a note.

"Well..."

Bates sighed wistfully and slowly began to enjoy his breakfast.

Bates slurped down the last bite of bread with warm milk, letting out a contented burp, before hearing the door open. Looking up, he saw Loren enter and change his shoes. Bates coughed twice and asked, "Where did you go this morning?"

"To uphold fairness and justice in the Wizarding World."

Speak like a human being!

Loren clicked his tongue. Nobody believed him when he told the truth. He shook his head, put on his slippers, and went inside. "The air is fresh in the morning. I'll take Hermione for a walk by the river."

"That's more like it..." Bates muttered, giving her a pep talk. "Treat Hermione well, don't always tease girls. It's okay to be bullied by her sometimes..."

"You've never been in a relationship, what do you know?"

"I don't... understand..." Bates was so angry that he was puffing out his beard and glaring. "You brat, you've never been punished in school, have you?"

"Is there something wrong with what I said?"

"I'm just not married, not that I've never been in a relationship!"

"Really? Tell me about it?"

Bates scoffed. "Back when I wasn't in the army, I was a star at school..."

"..."

Loren glanced at Grandpa Bates, whose hair was gray but whose spirit was still robust, and a slight smile appeared on his lips. Having moved from the High Mountain Ranch to the city and no longer having to endure the torment of Werewolf Disease, Grandpa Bates was visibly more relaxed.

"Last month, I attended a charity gala organized by the bank, and this old man actually stole the show! Lots of beautiful women were vying to dance with me..."

"Um, oh, right... what's for lunch?"

Bates glanced at him, suspecting that the man was changing the subject. He hadn't said enough yet, but with delicious food in front of him, he smacked his lips with lingering relish. "What do you want to eat... I love everything you make, how about roast lamb?"

"It's probably too late today. The roasted lamb needs to be marinated in advance to absorb the flavor."

"Let's eat it tomorrow. I'll go buy it this afternoon!"

"Okay, I'll cook for you when I buy it." Loren thought for a moment, "I'll make tomato and shrimp pasta for lunch, and then buy some lamb and beef brisket in the afternoon. For dinner, I'll make a stew of tomato and beef brisket, and then use the marinade to make some stir-fries. How about we invite the neighbors over to eat together?"

"Okay, okay..."

Bates smiled, his eyes crinkling and his face crinkling with delight, as he thought of the dishes Loren had made. But he quickly frowned, feeling something was off. Why did he feel like he was being an incompetent parent again?

July 1st, evening.

The day they ate roast lamb was five days later than Loren had expected. The main reason was that Bates was trying to be a responsible parent and strictly controlled the quality of the ingredients. She was never satisfied with any of the carefully selected ones, and it took her two days to ask a friend to buy a freshly slaughtered lamb at a high price.

Three parents and two children were eating roasted lamb in the courtyard.

The lamb, marinated for a whole day and then roasted for almost half a day, had an enticing color and a rich aroma. The marinade and oil had turned the skin a mesmerizing golden brown, and the roasted crust was crispy. The whole courtyard was filled with its fragrance. Dipped in the prepared plum sauce, chili sauce, and crushed mixed dry ingredients, each bite was bursting with juice, making you want to suck every last bone clean.

Wendell ate with a greasy face, and couldn't help but marvel at Loren's superb culinary skills.

He was furious when he saw the letter his daughter sent, and even planned to ignore Loren for half the summer vacation. But he was bewitched in less than a week of vacation.

Sigh, I guess I'll just have to find another opportunity to teach him a lesson later.

I should spend this summer with him. I should take him fishing and have a serious chat with him, and give him some pointers on fishing techniques. He can't always rely on Transfiguration to deal with fishing gear... Bates is right. After all, he's a young and immature kid who needs his parents to teach him properly.

As he was muttering to himself, Wendell absentmindedly picked up a piece of lamb chop, dipped it in Loren's homemade spicy dry seasoning, and popped it into his mouth. Instantly, he felt a surge of energy, hissing and panting with his tongue lolling out. Forgetting all about his dentist's self-restraint in protecting his teeth, he immediately opened a bottle of ice-cold cola and chugged it down.

Monica was both amused and exasperated. She pulled out a stack of tissues and handed them over, saying, "How old are you...?"

Hermione ate the food in small bites, but her movements were not slow; a row of lamb bones had already been placed in front of her.

Bates watched with a smile, sitting beside him cutting the lamb.

Loren rested for a while after eating, then fiddled with a Bronze Knut in his hand.

"To Loren Morgan: I just got home. Only my mother is home. I asked her what was going on with the Dark Lord, and she scolded me..."

"A letter to Loren Morgan: Why aren't you replying?"

"A letter to Loren Morgan: Is this thing broken?"

"A letter to Loren Morgan: Is the distance too great?"

"..."

"To Loren Morgan: My dad came home very late, and they thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. I was trying to eavesdrop on their conversation, and they found out by the portrait of my great-grandfather... Why hang something like that in the house!"

"To Loren Morgan: My father left in a hurry after breakfast; he must be going to meet the Dark Lord..."

Draco Malfoy is such a chatterbox, how come he never noticed before?

Loren pondered for a few seconds, then slowly poked at the Bronze Knut with only one finger.

"To Draco Malfoy: Read."

Ten seconds later, the Bronze Knut began to vibrate continuously, and faint characters appeared in the blank spaces.

"A letter to Loren Morgan: It wasn't broken after all!"

"To Loren Morgan: Why are you only replying now? I was even planning to write to you by owl!"

"..."

Loren didn't look at the rest closely. After quickly flipping through it and finding no valuable information, he slowly marked it as "read," then put the vibrating Bronze Knut back into his pendant and leisurely started eating his roast meat.

It seems Voldemort hasn't moved into the Malfoy Manor, and the Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are consciously keeping Draco out of Death Eater affairs; he'll likely have a boring summer. Given Lucius's ability to read the winds, the Malfoy are unlikely to be in any real danger.

Hermione, whose stomach was already slightly full, sat down at some point, craning her neck to look at him. Her gaze lingered on the pendant, and she blinked when their eyes met.

Loren grabbed a piece of lamb tenderloin, dipped it in salt and pepper, and stuffed it into her mouth, threatening her fiercely, "What are you looking at? If you look again, I'll make you gain ten pounds this summer!"

Hermione thought calmly for a moment, and as she chewed the mutton and swallowed it, she was horrified to realize that this threat could actually come true, and her little face gradually became serious.

Loren wore a smug smile.