Herman dared not provoke her any longer and quickly retreated to his room, closing the door behind him.
He changed into a set of dark, ordinary clothes, sweatpants and sneakers, and didn't wear a robe.
That thing is easy to trip over when running, so in case of any unexpected situation, it's better to be quick.
He tucked his wand into his waist pocket, took a few items from his magical suitcase, put them in a small bag, and then pushed open the door and went out.
The three of them opened the door almost simultaneously.
Herman saw that Draco had changed into her school uniform. The collar of her green robe with silver trim was neatly tied, and her hair was tied up again, making her look much more capable than before. However, the lingering blush on her face had not completely faded.
Harry changed into a black robe with a hood pulled low, obscuring most of her face in shadow.
She was also holding a roll of gray silk-like material in her hand. Something was pressed under the silk, revealing a hard outline on the surface, but it was impossible to tell what it was.
Harry glanced at Herman's attire, said nothing, then turned her gaze to Draco, looking her up and down in her gleaming green school robe, and said in a flat tone, "Are you afraid the professors on night patrol won't recognize you as a Slytherin? Should we write ' Slytherin ' on your back again?"
Draco snorted but didn't retort, as if she couldn't think of a way to retaliate for the time being, or perhaps she hadn't fully recovered from her earlier shyness.
The three of them had only walked a few steps toward the common lounge when they heard voices coming from there.
10:30 is not too late. There are still quite a few people sitting in the lounge, huddled in small groups on armchairs. Some are playing Wizard's Chess, some are flipping through books, and a few couples are sitting on the sofas in the corner, their postures so intimate that they seem to have forgotten that there are other people around.
Herman glanced at the couples, and a thought popped into his mind:
Aren't all Slytherin rooms single rooms? Why do couples have to do it in public? Do they like this kind of atmosphere? That's possible, since Slytherin are all single rooms, and if there's anything they need to do, they can go back to their room.
Thinking about it this way, it's no wonder that Slytherin are Pure-blood nobles; they have such a decadent and licentious air about them, which fits the stereotype.
Of course, it's also possible that the Pure-blood families, considering that Pure-blood are becoming increasingly rare, made this arrangement specifically to encourage reproduction and give students more freedom in their lives.
From this perspective, the bad atmosphere in Slytherin cannot be entirely blamed on the children.
We still have to thank the magic; the Hospital Wing must have some kind of professional magic for painless abortions, otherwise, after seven years of schooling and such a free life, wouldn't they bring home three or four kids? That seems to contradict the goal of promoting childbirth, doesn't it?
Herman realized he was getting a little off track and quickly stopped himself from thinking further about this important issue of population development in the wizarding world.
He looked at Harry: "Hey, veteran, it's your turn. How do you get out of here?"
Harry looked at Herman's tense expression, a slight smile playing on her lips, her tone carrying a nonchalant "You're too nervous" tone:
"Actually, nobody cares whether anyone leaves or not; this is Slytherin after all."
After saying this, she walked straight out of the corridor, through the common room, her steps as leisurely as if she were getting up in the morning to go to class.
Herman paused for a moment, watching her walk casually past the common room.
Draco was also stunned. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but then swallowed it back.
The two stood there and looked at each other for a moment, then Herman saw that Harry had already walked past the couples who were engrossed in their own worlds.
Those people genuinely didn't notice her, or rather, even if they did, they were too lazy to look up. Some had their hands on each other's waists, others were whispering in each other's ears; the entire lounge was filled with an atmosphere of complete oblivion, as if what was happening around them had nothing to do with them.
Herman glanced again at the door reserved for Prefect in the distance; light shone through the crack, but no one came out.
He guessed that the Prefect was probably busy with his own things, researching important topics such as the origin and inheritance of life.
"Let's go." Herman withdrew his gaze, pulled Draco along, and followed.
Sure enough, no one stopped them, and no one even glanced at them.
After leaving the lounge, the temperature in the corridor dropped noticeably by a few degrees. Candles burned quietly in the brackets on the wall, casting long, thin shadows of the three people.
Harry stopped and lifted the roll of gray silk in her hand, revealing what was underneath.
A withered human hand, its skin completely dehydrated, turning a mummified brownish-red. The five fingers were slightly curled, and the nails were yellowish but intact.
Herman recognized it as the " Hand of Glory " that Harry had picked out at Borgin and Burkes.
There was also a small oil lamp next to it. Although the copper base was a bit old, the surface was very clean and reflected a faint light under the candlelight, as if it had been carefully maintained.
Looking at the withered human hand, Draco took a half step back, her face revealing undisguised disgust. "What the hell is this thing? It's disgusting."
Harry ignored her disdain, touched the wick of the oil lamp with the tip of her wand, and a small ball of pale blue flame leaped up, without smoke or heat, its light cold and white.
Then she picked up that withered hand and let her curled fingers grasp the handle of the oil lamp.
Then, just as Herman had read in the original story, the pale blue light vanished the instant his dry hand grasped it.
The oil lamp was still burning, but it didn't illuminate anything.
"You can't see the light now," Harry's voice came from the shadows, "Only the person holding this hand can see."
Draco's brow furrowed even more. "So, how do we get there?"
"Hold onto my shoulders, I've modified the effect," Harry said. "One of you on each side, don't let go, just follow my direction."
Herman and Draco stepped forward, each putting their arms around one of her shoulders.
The moment Herman's fingers touched Harry's shoulder, the vanished pale blue light reappeared, and the oil lamp burned steadily, illuminating a short distance ahead.
"It's really useful. The items from the Borgin and Burkes are actually quite useful, "Herman thought to himself.
However, the oil lamp's light was unbearably dim, so Herman suggested, "Could we get a brighter light? Like Muggle flashlight, or something even brighter, like taking apart a car headlight and carrying a battery?"
Harry didn't stop walking, her tone carrying a hint of exasperation. "Why are you still asking this kind of question?"
"Have you forgotten that electricity doesn't work well at Hogwarts? The castle has a lot of Muggle-Repelling Charm and interference charms set up to prevent witch hunts back then. It affects not only Muggle ' senses, but also Muggle science doesn't work very well here. If you bring a flashlight in, it will probably only flash twice and then go out."
Herman opened his mouth, then closed it again; it was indeed his oversight.
Fortunately, Newton is mostly able to turn in his grave. However, if Sir Newton knew about the existence of magic, he would be very happy. It's a pity he was probably a Muggle, otherwise he would definitely have left his mark on the history of modern wizarding.