The Mirror of Erised has become the hottest topic lately.
"I heard that mirror is in an empty classroom on the fourth floor!" a Hufflepuff boy whispered to his friends. "If you stand in front of it, you can see what you desire deep down."
"Really?"
"Of course it's true! It's written in the book!"
So, wave after wave of students began peeking and peering into the corridors on each floor.
They lifted the edges of each old tapestry, examining every room that seemed to have been forgotten.
But for several days in a row, no one could find the mirror.
Harry, of course, joined them. He, Ron, Hermione explored from the seventh floor down to the basement, searching every place rumored to have a "hidden room."
But they found nothing, not even a mirror that could reflect anything different.
"It's probably already been put away by Dumbledore," Hermione concluded. "After all, that thing is addictive and shouldn't be placed where students can easily find it."
Ron kicked the wall in frustration. "I still want to see if I can become the student council president."
"You will," Hermione said casually, "Provided you finish your thesis on the History of Magic first."
Ron's face fell, and he didn't mention the magic mirror again.
However, the Third Floor Corridor that Dumbledore had explicitly forbidden people from approaching did become quite popular for a while.
"Legend has it that the Philosopher's Stone is hidden there." Seamus stood at the entrance of the corridor, peering inside. "That three-headed dog is the guard here."
"But the Trapdoor is sealed shut." Dean pointed to a section of paved stone on the ground that had clearly been repaved. "Look, there aren't even any gaps left."
Several students lay on the corridor floor for a long time, finally confirming that the Trapdoor was indeed completely sealed, with not even a trace of the edge visible.
Someone tapped the ground with a magic wand, and the sound that returned was solid.
"What a pity," Neville whispered. "I wanted to see what that dog looked like."
"You'd be terrified if you saw it," Ron chimed in. " Hagrid said it's his pet, named Fluffy."
Nevertheless, every day a few groups of people still pass by that corridor, peek at the sealed door, and then leave satisfied.
The discussion about the Third Floor Corridor quickly subsided, as the exams were over and the Quidditch final was the most important thing right now.
The weather was unexpectedly good on the day of the Quidditch final.
The sky was a vibrant blue, as if it had been washed, and the wind was just right—perfect for a broom to fly.
The stands were packed with people, and the flags of Gryffindor and Slytherin fluttered in the wind.
After the game started, Harry rode the broomstick he had used for a year into the air.
He heard Ron yelling at him from the stands, and he also heard Fred and George blowing the same horn at the same time.
Without Quirrell's interference, every game he played this semester went remarkably smoothly.
The same was true in the final round; he caught the Golden Snitch in almost just twenty minutes.
When his hand grasped the golden wings, a deafening roar of cheers erupted from the stands, and the red Gryffindor flag blazed like a flowing flame.
As Harry landed, Cho Chang waved to him from the Ravenclaw stands, nearly tripping over his own foot.
The college banquet that evening was arguably the liveliest dinner of the semester.
There were twice as many candles as usual in the Great Hall, and the roof was enchanted, displaying a deep purple starry sky with silver clouds drifting by.
When Dumbledore stood up to announce the winner of the House Cup, some people at the Gryffindor Table had already begun celebrating.
When Dumbledore announced, " Gryffindor wins this year's House Cup," the entire long table seemed to explode as if under Cheering Charm.
Seamus jumped onto the stool, waving a napkin, while Fred and George conjured two fireworks from who-knows-where, their red and gold sparks exploding into strings of glittering patterns under the dome.
Slytherin, on the other hand, was much quieter.
Malfoy sat motionless in the middle of the long table, staring at the plate in front of him. Zabini whispered something to him, but he just shook his head.
He didn't stand up to refute as he had done before, nor did he make any sarcastic comments about Gryffindor's celebration.
Malfoy certainly remembered that day, when the man in the fox mask descended from the sky, he was being dragged towards the door by two Death Eaters, who were holding him by the shoulders.
When the battle reached a stalemate, it was Potter who rode his broomstick and rammed through the Death Eaters to save himself, leaving the Death Eaters without a hostage.
He looked deeply at Harry, whose face was beaming with joy, and his lips moved almost imperceptibly. "... Thank you."
The final exam results were released three days before the holiday. Harry passed every subject, got a good score in Charms, and while his Potions wasn't high, at least he didn't fail.
Ron barely passed Charms and Transfiguration, and he breathed a long sigh of relief when he received his report card.
Hermione was, of course, first in the entire grade, which no one was surprised about.
Two days before the holiday, Madam Hooch suddenly appeared in the Gryffindor Common Room, startling Harry.
She was wearing that flight jacket and carrying a roll of parchment; she looked very energetic.
" Harry!" she beckoned to Harry. "Come with me."
At some point, Madam Hooch had started calling him " Harry " instead of " Potter."
"Huh? Where to?" Harry asked, puzzled.
" Diagon Alley," Madam Hooch said firmly, "I'll buy you a new broom."
Harry was stunned. "Professor, I Nimbus 2000 --"
"Your broom is nice, but everyone saw you charging out of the Death Eaters formation on it that day."
Madam Hooch walked over and patted him on the shoulder. "You managed to do that much with a borrowed broom, what if I gave you a better one?"
Harry opened his mouth but before he could speak.
"I've already consulted Dumbledore, and he's agreed." Madam Hooch handed him the parchment scroll. "The school will cover part of it, and I'll cover the rest!"
"Believe me, your broom can't keep up with your reflexes anymore, Harry."
Harry looked at the parchment in front of him, covered with notes and signatures, and suddenly felt a smile creeping onto his face.
"Thank you, Madam Hooch."
"Don't thank me, it's your own doing." Madam Hooch turned and walked towards the stairs. "Let's go, there's still time before the express train departs."
Diagon Alley was as lively as ever, with wizards' children running around on the sun-drenched cobblestone streets, dragging their suitcases.
The Goblin at the entrance of Gringotts greeted customers with stern faces, while shop windows along the street were filled with summer specials.
Harry followed Madam Hooch through the crowd and stopped in front of the Quality Quidditch Supplies.
The shop window displayed a whole row of brand-new brooms, each one Winky under the lights, with a price engraved on a silver-plated nameplate.
"You wait here, don't wander off." Madam Hooch pushed open the shop door. "I'll go in and pick out a few for you to try, the one with the best performance and the coolest design."
Harry stood in the doorway, watching her figure disappear behind the pile of brooms, and couldn't help but smile.
Bored, he shifted his gaze to the pharmacy across the street, then to the owl perched on the mailbox preening its feathers.
Just then, he felt someone hurry past him from behind and bump his shoulder with their elbow.
"Ouch." Harry took a half step back and instinctively cried out.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."
An apologetic voice came from the side.
Harry looked up and saw a young man in a black trench coat standing in front of him, carrying a stack of books that looked quite heavy.
The man was very handsome, with delicate features, and a smile that made people feel relaxed, but at this moment, that smile also carried a hint of apology and fluster.
"It's alright, it's alright, I was blocking your way." Harry quickly shook his head, looking at the tall stack of books, and added with some admiration, "You... you've bought quite a few books."
"Ah, yes." The man in the trench coat smiled, glancing down at the pile of things in his arms. "Someone in my hometown once said: 'Knowledge is power.'"
"I used to scoff at it, but now I believe it wholeheartedly."
His gaze fell from above the stack of books, casually sweeping across Harry's face before pausing for a tap on his forehead.
A small patch of Harry's bangs was blown open by the wind, revealing the lightning bolt-shaped scar.
"Wait..." The man in the trench coat's eyes widened slightly. "You are... Harry Potter?"
Harry was used to this kind of reaction. He forced a polite smile and said, "Ah, it's me."
"My God!" The man in the trench coat exclaimed with undisguised surprise.
He quickly put the stack of books he was carrying on the ground, freeing one hand to pull out a book and a pen from inside his trench coat. "Could you sign this for me?"
Harry was somewhat surprised, but he still took the pen.
The man in the trench coat quickly flipped open the book's cover. Harry only had time to glimpse what appeared to be a snake-like creature on the cover, but couldn't make out what it was.
He habitually signed his name on the title page, and as he handed it back, he asked, "You also graduated from Hogwarts?"
"Perhaps... I guess so." The man in the trench coat took the book, glanced down at the signature, and his expression faltered for a moment.
He looked at something that was both familiar and unfamiliar, a hint of melancholy in his eyes.
He shook his head and sighed with relief, closed the book and stuffed it back into his arms, picked up the stack of books again, and smiled at Harry before turning away.
"Well then, Harry, have a happy summer vacation!"
He turned and walked into the crowd, the hem of his black trench coat swaying briefly in the afternoon sunlight before being swallowed up by the flow of people.
Harry stood there, blinking as he looked in that direction, sensing a certain unspoken meaning in the person's tone.
" Potter! Come and see how this round is--"
Madam Hooch's voice came from inside the shop.
Harry responded, looked away, and turned to walk into the Quality Quidditch Supplies.
(Volume 1 - I really just want to write novels, the end)
----(The wicked dividing line)----
That concludes the first volume of the story, marking the end of this part of the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone narrative.
Next, I might write about Harry's summer vacation in the Muggle world, the the Dursley family ' reaction, and then the protagonist's second book will be published...
Oh dear, I always have so many ideas. Sometimes when I get carried away writing, I end up writing more about the Wizarding World and less about the Muggle world.
Of course, I'd like to ask you readers, do you prefer reading the Muggle world portion or the Wizarding World portion?
Or is my current pace just right?
Haha, I will respect the readers' opinions, and of course, I probably won't make any major changes to my outline (laughs).
Hmm... From Allen's journey to the Wizarding World, thinking he was in an ordinary parallel world, to discovering that he had actually arrived in the Wizarding World.
His mindset changes as he goes from simply wanting to write books to being forced into involvement in events in the Wizarding World. This is why I titled the first volume "I Really Just Want to Write Novels."
The style of the final scene also reveals that Allen is not a protagonist burdened with deep-seated grievances; he is also a fan of Harry Potter.
So this book is generally considered to be lighthearted.
Some readers criticized me, saying, "If you want to plagiarize and show off, then write about plagiarism and show off; if you want to write about the Wizarding World, then write about the Wizarding World. Why mix them all up? It's a hodgepodge!"
Alas, I know of course this might upset some readers.
However, I didn't write this book as a simple, mindless, feel-good story. Otherwise, if I just wrote plagiarized content, I wouldn't be able to write many chapters before people got tired of it, and the work wouldn't last long.
I still hope to put more effort into my work. There are too many Harry Potter fanfics out there; I just want to create something different and unique.
I hope you all like it.
Of course, you can submit any suggestions here, and I will read them all carefully.
(Um... I wish everyone a happy summer vacation, even though it's almost over. I still hope you all have a great time and all your wishes come true!)
Of course, I also hope that all you handsome, beautiful, and elegant readers will give me a small five-star rating. Your support is really important to me! Thank you so much! ◐⩊◑ ྀི