Amortentia (Please Follow Along)

A creature's range wouldn't change much when its surroundings remained almost the same.

The Bicorn still appeared in the same few places.

Even...

Harry had found a very fresh pile of dung, deposited less than a day ago. He could follow the scent straight to it.

But he didn't act immediately. Before going hunting, he needed to make thorough preparations.

Gryffindor Common Room.

Hermione got up early and saw Harry hunched over beside a table, writing furiously. "What are you working on? An assignment from Professor Flitwick?"

"I'm working out a lure for the Bicorn." Harry shook his head.

Hermione sat down. "Have you found them already?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "I found traces last night. It looks like there's only one, so I'm planning to make a bait and set some traps."

Hermione leaned over. She seemed to have taken a bath last night; her hair carried a faint scent of mistletoe.

Two names stood out at the top of the parchment.

"Oh..."

"Professor Snape and Mr. Weasley. Are you planning to consult them?"

"But wouldn't asking Professor Snape be a little too obvious?"

Harry's expression didn't change. "I was wondering whether I could get them to serve as bait."

Hermione looked up at him in alarm.

"Bicorns like chaste men best," Harry explained. "They're both suitable, and they're both capable. They won't have any trouble dealing with a Bicorn."

So that was what he meant...

Hermione let out a breath and nodded. It made sense.

"But Professor Snape would probably try to shove a Bezoar down my throat," Harry said with a shrug. "Mr. Weasley is busy too, and I don't want to bother him."

"Unicorn Hair, roses, lilies..." Hermione read the words beneath the names, looking puzzled. "These ingredients don't seem to have much in common, magically speaking."

"They all have symbolic meanings." Harry pointed at the words. "Chastity, love, devotion..."

"Symbols often contain magic, too." Hermione recited a passage from Lily's notes. It continued, "When handling ingredients with symbolic significance, your technique and state of mind should reflect their symbolism as closely as possible. If you act against that symbolism, their magic will often weaken or even disappear."

Harry nodded.

Hermione began discussing it with him. Girls tended to know more about the language of flowers than boys.

Lilies weren't really suitable.

Their meaning leaned more toward loyalty and dignity, and was more often associated with the bond between a ruler and their subjects.

Red roses symbolized passionate love.

But for a creature like the Bicorn, white roses, which symbolized pure love, might be more likely to attract it.

By half past eight,

they were still figuring out which ingredients they could use.

Ron came tumbling out of the dormitory in a panic. "I'm done for, I'm done for! Harry didn't wake me, and I'm going to be late—"

He hadn't finished shouting when his eyes landed on Harry and Hermione, sitting leisurely in the common room. His upper body froze while his legs kept running forward. He stumbled and fell onto the floor, then stammered, "Y-you're still here?"

"The first class starts at nine. We've still got more than half an hour." Hermione put down her quill. "But we should get ready soon."

"It's almost ten already!" Ron shrieked, his voice tinged with despair. "I'm done for. Hermione's got the time wrong too..."

Harry closed his notebook. "I set your alarm an hour fast. You're always saying you feel groggy when you wake up in the morning. Do you feel better now?"

"Harry." Ron froze, looking aggrieved. "I thought I was going to be late on the first day. That kind of joke..."

"It's funny, isn't it?" The pointed tip of Mr. Hat poked out from Harry's waistcoat.

"Was that your idea, Mr. Hat?" Ron's gaze turned dangerous.

The Sorting Hat said matter-of-factly, "Of course. Our dear Harry isn't blessed with such a rich sense of humor."

Ron clenched his fists.

The Hat tucked its point away and hummed a merry tune. It had nothing to fear—it was hanging from Harry's waist, after all. Ron couldn't get back at it.

The first day of term at Hogwarts was Wednesday.

Compared with first year, their timetable was much fuller. Their first class was Charms at nine. Professor Flitwick looked visibly tired, but the quality of his teaching hadn't suffered.

After Charms, they had an hour and a half of free time. Then, at noon, Potions Class awaited them.

After the familiar yet long-missed ritual of "Harry Potter, two points from Gryffindor!" the Little Lions finally felt as if they were back at Hogwarts.

History of Magic was in the afternoon.

The Little Lions and Little Eagles were all drowsy. Most of them, like Ron, had been too excited to sleep early the night before, and had struggled to get out of bed.

By three o'clock, their classes for the day were finally over.

"I've got it!" Hermione looked up as they walked toward the Great Hall, suddenly enlightened.

"Figured out what to eat?" Ron picked up the conversation. "I hope we get lamb chops today..."

Hermione looked annoyed. "No, not food."

"Amortentia."

Ron stopped in his tracks and looked at Harry. "Hey, I don't think it's wise to slip Harry a potion. And you shouldn't say it right in front of him."

"No, it's not for Harry!" Hermione blushed and glared fiercely at Ron.

"But that's false love..." Harry frowned.

Hermione shook her head. "But it feels just like real love—intense and passionate, faithful and eternal. And I read that everyone smells the scent they find most alluring."

"This might be very useful."

Harry considered this. "But it requires Ashwinder Eggs, which are also a restricted ingredient."

The recipe for Amortentia was in Potent Potion.

"We don't need to go to all that trouble." Hermione perked up. "I can get some. I mean, some of the older girls have it."

"You carry Amortentia around with you?" Harry looked at her strangely.

Hermione gave an awkward explanation. "You know how love is. Some witches will do whatever it takes."

Ron still hadn't caught on. "Who are you going to give a potion to? Him or her?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Especially when the two of you are doing it together..."

"It's for it!" Hermione gritted her teeth. "The Bicorn. Have you forgotten Harry's trial?"

Ron finally understood. He slapped his thigh. "But why use a Love Potion? Oh, Harry, you wouldn't..."

He seemed to have imagined something scandalous, and his expression twisted.

"Looks like Mr. Weasley needs to catch up on his studies." Hermione continued to grit her teeth. "While we were figuring out how to handle this, what was Mr. Weasley thinking about?"

"Whether we'd get lamb chops for dinner," Harry clarified.

Ron lowered his head, his face bright red, and mumbled, "What's wrong with lamb chops?"

"Harry, you said yesterday that you wanted French food too."

They soon reached the Great Hall.

They worked on their homework for a while, then it was time for dinner.

Just as Ron had hoped, a plate of French-style lamb chops appeared before him. He polished off three of them before patting his stomach and returning to the common room with Harry and the others.

A group of older girls teased Hermione as she blushed and brought over a small bottle of potion. It was in a slender-necked phial, gleaming with a pearly sheen, and a spiral of hazy steam curled around its opening.

"Thanks." Harry took it and tucked it into the Sorting Hat.

Ron watched the older girls whispering among themselves and glancing over at them. Curious, he asked, "Hermione, what excuse did you use..."

"Don't ask!" Hermione's face grew even redder. She slapped the table, full of fury.

Ron jumped and nodded like a pecking chicken.

Hermione looked very hard to deal with today.

"George." Harry waved at the two of them as they played Wizard's Chess beside the fireplace. "Do you know where the kitchens are?"

George immediately flipped over the chessboard.

The chess pieces cried out in alarm.

"Hey, Harry, you can't do that! He was about to lose!" Fred scooped up the pieces, sounding annoyed.

George acted as if he hadn't heard him and dashed over. "You want to know where the kitchens are?"

Harry nodded.

"They're right below the Great Hall," George explained. "Follow the underground passage and you'll come across a painting of a bowl of fruit."

"Just reach out and tickle the pear, and it'll open the kitchen door for you." Fred came over too, clutching the pieces and trying to stuff one into George's mouth. It was part of their wager. He added, "The House-elves in there are very friendly."

"They'll get you whatever you want."

"And they won't tell the professors, either."

"House-elves!" Hermione cried. "How can such dangerous creatures be allowed in the castle?"

"Dangerous?" The Weasley twins stared at her.

"Why would Miss Granger say that?" George asked in confusion. "I don't think I've ever seen a book say they're dangerous."

Hermione shook her head, feeling irritated at the very mention of it. "No, it wasn't in a book. It was over the summer."

"Harry met a House-elf, and it caused him a lot of trouble."

"Quite a few of my letters were confiscated!"

Ron chimed in. "Mine too. I lost a Potions essay, and I was going to ask Harry to look it over."

"House-elves wouldn't do anything their masters hadn't ordered them to do," Fred said with a frown. "Looks like someone's got their eye on you, Harry."

George's expression grew serious too. "I suggest you tell a professor. Their Apparition is a real nuisance."

"They can even Apparate inside Hogwarts."

Harry waved a hand. "Relax. Professor Flitwick caught it ages ago. It's all taken care of."

"Don't worry," George said casually. "The House-elves in the kitchens belong to Hogwarts. Maybe you've noticed, Harry? We've all signed contracts with the castle."

"When we're in the castle, we're their masters."

"You can use them without worry."

"No House-elf can harm its master."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

She'd been terribly worried another elf like Dobby might show up.

Ron's thoughts wandered. "So can I just tell the House-elves what I want to eat tomorrow, and they'll make it for me?"

"Yep," George said with a nod. "Every Hufflepuff does that."

"But they rarely tell anyone," Fred said with a shake of his head.

"Maybe they're worried the professors will ban it if more people find out?"

"Besides, isn't it fun not knowing what we'll be eating tomorrow?"

There'll be another update tonight, around eight o'clock~