"Oh, no wonder Harry didn't look too good when he said 'see you later' to me before he left." The Gryffindor common room, which was empty because of the holiday, allowed them to easily occupy the two armchairs at the most suitable distance from the fireplace without any need to compete. By wrapping a few pieces of fragrant pies in a napkin during lunch and pairing them with a pot of pumpkin juice, one could comfortably spend the whole afternoon. Hermione finally finished listening to the conversation that Harry had overheard while she was busy avoiding McLaggen, who was lying in wait under every mistletoe. When she heard that McLaggen finally appeared in the corridor, she slapped her knee and burst into laughter.
"Um, sorry, but his expression at that time was really funny." Hermione wiped the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes with her sleeve, and it took her a second to put on a serious face. "But why does Dumbledore want to talk to Malfoy? Does he know that Malfoy was the one behind that necklace incident?"
"I don't know." I carefully folded the letter my mother had sent and tucked it into my book. I had already read it over and over again several times. "But it's a good thing, isn't it? At least it shows that Professor Dumbledore has some understanding of these things, even though he's often not at Hogwarts."
"Yes," Hermione rubbed her temples in agreement. "I've told you and Harry before, what can be hidden from Dumbledore?"
There were very few students who stayed at school. The holiday spent with Hermione wasn't that different from the time when they were at school. She even got up earlier—seizing every moment to practice the Unplottable Extension Charm. Now she could already fit ten books into that small beaded pouch that could originally only hold a key and a little bit of money.
But she wasn't satisfied. It sounded like she wanted to transform this small pouch into a warehouse to meet future needs ("What if we can't return to Hogwarts for a long time due to some reasons... How can ten books be enough!"). To achieve this effect, we spent even more time in the library. As a result, when we were returning to the common room one day, we bumped into the Fat Lady who was drunk and acting up. She forced the two of us to stand still and listen to her "heavenly voice that could move any goblet to the point of bursting." She kept screaming at a high decibel until Professor McGonagall came over covering her ears to open the door for us. Later, we learned that she and her friend Violet had drunk all the wine in the painting of several drunken monks beside the corridor of the Charms classroom. For many days after that, the Fat Lady was in a drunken and decadent state, hoarsely muttering that she would never drink again ("Do you believe it? I don't believe it anyway"). To show her determination, she even changed the password to "No More Alcohol".
Hermione also took me to visit Hagrid and brought Christmas gifts for him and his giant brother Grawp. But he seemed very busy. From what he said, it seemed that a cute pet he had raised since it was a baby had entered its old age, and he had to accompany it through the last journey of its life—however, after we left his hut, Hermione told me that Hagrid's cute pet was a giant spider that could swallow at least three adult wizards in one gulp. When I was in my second year, they once thought that that spider was the monster locked in the Chamber of Secrets of Slytherin. I shivered in the swirling snow.
Before the end of the holiday, when I passed by the corridor on the eighth floor, I remembered the scene of encountering iris and taurus here. Even though Hermione optimistically believed that all of their actions were already under the control of my father and Dumbledore, I still couldn't help thinking about why they would appear here these days—even if Crabbe and Goyle were blindly trying to get back to the Slytherin common room from the Great Hall, they would know that they should grope their way downstairs to the basement instead of going upstairs. The ugly troll on the tapestry was still dancing. I stood there and hesitated for a few seconds, then started to pace slowly.
I needed a place to hide things.
I walked up to the vase at the end of the corridor. Draco had known about the existence of the Room of Requirement since his fourth year... We spent a lot of time hiding in there to study the Occlumency in my father's notebook. And Harry told me that his Occlumency now had reached a level where even my father couldn't see through his true thoughts.
I needed a place to hide things. He learned in his fifth year that the Room of Requirement could respond to people's wishes... Since he was the first to enter the room where our D.A. group was gathering when Umbridge was hunting down the D.A., he should have understood at that time that everything in the room could change... Unless I knew what he wanted to use this room for, unless he was carrying out that "plan" right in that place where things were hidden... But isn't that possibility too small?
I needed a place to hide things.
A small door appeared in front of me. Even though I knew it was probably a futile effort, I still took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob.
Everything was as it was. While coughing and waving away the dust that flew up to the tip of my nose, I looked around this room that was probably as big as a cathedral. Walking along a small alley and turning right, there was that troll specimen that had startled Draco at that time. After walking a short distance more, I could see that broken cabinet with intricate patterns that he had scrutinized with a frown for a long time. There was a sweet smell in the air, like that of rotting fruit, probably coming from some smashed potion bottle. I carefully made my way through the alley, hoping to find some obvious signs that the place had been used by someone. But after walking for about fifteen minutes, I found nothing. I was even startled by a Manticore Frisbee that suddenly rushed out from the corner. It weakly hissed and knocked over a pile of old sundries. The dust rose up like a cloud and obscured my vision. It took me quite a while to tearfully clean up the garbage blocking my way. I used the Levitation Charm to move that most obstructive bust of an old wizard to the side. I wasn't sure if that old wig and a rusty diadem lying askew belonged to that statue, so I just piled them all on the old wizard.
As expected, it was just a sudden whim. I shook my head and turned to leave the Room of Requirement. Hermione and I had made an appointment to meet in the library after she went to the Owlery to send letters to her parents.
A few days after the New Year, as the students returned to school, the castle gradually became lively again. Harry seemed a bit disappointed. He had originally thought that after a holiday, Ron and Hermione would at least be able to maintain some politeness towards each other even if they couldn't reconcile. But it was obvious that Hermione was determined to treat Ron, who had been involved in a standing wrestling match with Lavender, as if he didn't exist. She even maliciously mocked the necklace that Lavender had given Ron with the words "My Sweetheart" written on it behind his back. Taurus didn't seem to care much. Now he regarded imitating Lavender's coquettish tone of calling Ron "Won Won" with great accuracy as a kind of fun, and every time he could make Ron jump up from his seat in fright. He didn't seem to be so interested in swapping saliva with Lavender anymore. Whenever McLaggen approached Hermione in the common room, he would make a sound from his nostrils, making Neville always suspect that his Leghorn was hiding under his armchair.
At the beginning of the new term, the sixth-year students, each with their own thoughts, received a pleasant surprise: A large notice was pinned on the bulletin board of the common room the previous night, notifying all students who would be seventeen years old before August 31st of this year that they could sign up for a twelve-week Apparition course. Everyone rushed to sign their names under the notice with their quills. After that, almost all the conversations were centered around Apparition, and everyone was looking forward to disappearing and reappearing at will.
But Harry and Neville seemed to have other things to worry about. Not long after returning to school, Dumbledore met with them again in his office. I had originally thought that Harry would take the opportunity to ask some questions about Draco. But when they returned to the common room, their expressions were a bit strange. As usual, I, who wasn't allowed to participate in the conversation, only vaguely learned that Dumbledore had assigned Harry and Neville a task.
I guessed that this task might have something to do with Slughorn. Because for the first time, Harry started to seriously preview his "Advanced Potion-Making" book. He even borrowed my book and wanted to copy down some tips and improvement steps. Unfortunately, we had already learned Gubraithian Fire Third Law. He couldn't understand why the content of this chapter didn't require practical skills, and I couldn't understand why it took him a whole night to fail to figure out such a simple analysis of additional ingredients.
And Neville, who had always been troubled by not having an excuse to decline small gatherings, unexpectedly asked Hermione and me several times if Slughorn had sent us an invitation. Strangely, ever since Harry used his little tricks in that Potions class, taking bezoars as antidotes and receiving Slughorn's praise (I wasn't sure if I should be happy, at least it showed that he had remembered those common sense tutorials before), and then stayed to chat with Slughorn for a while, all the small gatherings had been cancelled by Slughorn. Hermione also paused her work on further perfecting that beaded pouch. She began to rush between every bookshelf in the library to find the materials that Harry and Neville needed. But it seemed that she didn't find them. Because when she returned to the common room that day and saw Lavender covering Ron's eyes and asking him to guess who it was, she almost rolled her eyes to the top of her head because she couldn't hold back her disdain.
Since February, we started the Apparition course. During the class, the magic that prohibited Apparition in the Great Hall was temporarily lifted for the students who had signed up to practice. After the initial novelty wore off, everyone quickly became annoyed at the fact that they were staring at the wooden hoop in front of them but couldn't move even a centimeter. After each class, the Great Hall was full of students who felt nauseous and uncomfortable due to spinning too fast or too much. However, Wilkie Twycross, who taught us Apparition, seemed extremely calm in the face of the students' flood of complaints. He kept repeating the three Ds—Destination, Determination, and Deliberation, as if we could instantly learn Apparition just by writing these three words on parchment and swallowing them.
March 1st was the day to go to Hogsmeade. However, a notice was posted on all the bulletin boards in the common rooms a day in advance, announcing that this trip was cancelled due to the weather. Everyone crowded in front of the bulletin board was very dissatisfied, and Ron was especially indignant.
"The weather? The blizzard didn't cancel the trip before!" he said angrily, "It's my birthday! I've been looking forward to it!"
"It's not that strange, is it?" Taurus thought for a moment and said, "Katie had an accident last time and still hasn't come back to school yet."
"And there have been several missing cases recently." Harry's tone was a bit grim, "They voted overwhelmingly to reject the special period joint bill proposed by my father on the grounds that it was probably the work of werewolves. Remember?"
On the morning of March 1st, Hermione left the common room early because Lavender had been chattering all night in the dormitory about the "sweet surprise" she had prepared for Ron. After listening to her whole plan, I also decided not to stay in the common room today to avoid losing my appetite from morning till night. But unexpectedly, just as I was checking my schoolbag and preparing to leave, Harry and Taurus were dragging Ron, who was struggling fiercely, towards here. Taurus's nose seemed to have been punched hard. There were now scabs of blood all over his handsome face, and his whole nose bridge was swollen.
"What's going on?" I stared in amazement at Ron's face, which seemed to be illuminated by several soft lights. He should have been cast with the Muffliato spell, otherwise, with his mouth wide open at this moment, he must be calling out for something.
"Love Potion... Romilda Vane's Love Potion." Harry, who had barely stuffed Ron into an armchair, took a breath, "He accidentally ate it. I was looking at the Marauder's Map to track Malfoy's whereabouts and accidentally gave him that chocolate cauldron—"
"Romilda!" Ron stood up all of a sudden, even breaking through the Muffliato spell. His eyes full of longing, he grabbed Harry's hand, "You know her! Harry! Can you introduce her to me? Please, I can't live without her..."
"I actually kind of wanted to let him go, because he punched me like this just because I smiled once, saying that I was mocking his love..." Taurus tried to stop the bleeding from his nose, but he got the spell wrong, and blood dripped onto the carpet from his nose like water from a faucet that had been turned on. "Ouch, I'll let it go considering it's his birthday, but this blood—"
"You should go to the infirmary right away." I couldn't stand it anymore and commanded, "I don't have enough raw materials here. The two of us will take him to Professor Slughorn."
"Ron." I held back my laughter and walked up to Ron, who was looking around. "I know Romilda. I'll take you to see her, okay?"
Ron immediately beamed with joy. "Where is she?"
"She's in Professor Slughorn's office." I motioned for Harry to pull Ron and drag him towards the portrait hole. Many early-rising students had already cast strange looks at us. As friends, we shouldn't let him be so embarrassed in front of everyone when he was not in his right mind.
"Why is she there?" Ron persisted in asking.
I blinked, and Harry answered for me, "She's taking Potions class with Professor Slughorn."
"Then I want to apply to take the class with her!" Ron cheered eagerly.
"Good idea." I replied absently, but I didn't expect that as soon as we got out of the portrait hole, we met Lavender. Only then did I remember that her "sweet first step" she mentioned last night seemed to start from here.
"R-Ron!" Her lips painted with lipstick were pouted high. "I've been waiting here to give you a surprise—"
"Go away," Ron pushed her away impatiently. "They're going to introduce me to Romilda Vane."
We should have stopped to explain at this moment, but I was worried that if we delayed any longer, Ron would start singing "My love for you tonight is as warm as the hot soup in the pot" in the empty corridor. So I had to bite the bullet and leave Lavender, whose expression was furious, and keep walking forward. Fortunately, Slughorn hadn't gone to the Great Hall for breakfast. He looked quite happy when he opened the door with sleepy eyes and saw me.
"What's going on, my dear child?" He looked curiously at Ron, who almost knocked off Harry's glasses. "I usually get up late on Saturdays."
"Um, it's like this. My friend Ron accidentally ate a love potion. You know that things from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes are not allowed in school. It will be very troublesome if we go to the infirmary..." I tried to explain the situation as briefly as possible. "There are also some raw materials that are necessary for the antidote that are not in the students' medicine cabinet. So I'd like to ask you... Today is his birthday."
"Oh, oh! Then come in!" Slughorn looked at Ron, who was struggling with Harry, with great interest and stepped aside to let the three of us in. "This antidote is too easy for you, isn't it? I heard your father proudly tell me last time that you can make a very good antidote for Veritaserum."
"Huh?" I completely didn't expect my father to praise me like this to others. I took the potion-making kit that Slughorn handed me in a daze. "It shouldn't be difficult, but I haven't made it before."
"Then give it a try." He smiled and handed me a small crystal bottle. For a moment, I thought it was another Potions class where I was forced to go on stage to demonstrate.
Compared with the antidote for Veritaserum, the antidote for the love potion was much simpler. However, Ron beside us kept fighting with Harry and shouting words that made no sense, and Slughorn seemed to be just watching the fun and had no intention of stepping forward to help. The temperature in his office was higher than that in other rooms in the castle. In the end, when I made a bottle of clear liquid, there was a thin layer of sweat on my forehead. I was so nervous that my mouth was dry because I wanted to finish it as soon as possible and was afraid of making mistakes in my haste.
"What is this?" Ron looked at the crystal bottle I handed him in confusion.
"This can make you stay calm when you see Romilda. Don't you think you're a bit too excited now?" Slughorn examined the texture of the liquid and nodded at me in satisfaction. "Drink it quickly. This is the experience of someone who's been through it."
"Great." Ron said eagerly and gulped down the antidote.
I watched Ron's expression nervously. For a moment, I thought if I had added something extra in one of the steps—because he was still grinning at us. Fortunately, after ten seconds, his smile slowly faded away, and finally, horror climbed onto his face. He fell into the armchair beside him as if he had been pushed.
"Do you still want to see Romilda Vane?" I asked Ron tentatively. I was relieved only after seeing him shake his head like a rattle.
After he shook his head like a rattle, I finally felt relieved.
"Thank you very much, Professor." Harry let out a sigh of relief and thanked the smiling Slughorn.
"Hahaha, you're welcome. And shouldn't the one we should be most grateful to be Iris?" Slughorn patted his belly. "Come on, cheer up. Let's have something to drink!"
I was just thirsty and watched eagerly as he walked up to the table filled with drinks and picked around: "Butterbeer, wine, um, the last bottle of oak-aged mead... I originally wanted to give it to Dumbledore as a Christmas present... Forget it!"
He shrugged his shoulders and pulled out the cork of the mead. The room was immediately filled with a sweet and rich fragrance, which reminded me of the taste of the iced mead I had with my mother in the Leaky Cauldron.
"He doesn't know about it anyway. Why don't we open it to celebrate Mr. Weasley's birthday? There's nothing better than a good glass of wine to dispel the pain of a disillusioned love." Slughorn conjured up four goblets and winked at me. "Aren't you almost of age too? Time flies so fast. I still remember what your mother looked like when she took my class. In the blink of an eye, ha!"
He handed me the first glass of wine and clinked the bottle against the rim of my glass: "Have a taste! This is a very rare aged wine. I usually don't want to drink it."
While he was pouring wine for Harry, I had already poured half a glass of wine into my mouth due to thirst and swallowed it.
Everything in front of my eyes suddenly became a blurred shadow. I didn't know if my perception of time had become dull, or if time had been infinitely stretched at that moment. I heard the clear sound of the glass hitting the ground and breaking, but that sound only existed for a moment and then became blurred and ethereal. It was as if my consciousness had been thrown far away from my body. The sounds of footsteps, shouts, and calls of my name all came faintly from an extremely distant place, or perhaps they were actually not far away, but there was a thick barrier between them and me. The barrier was collapsing at a rapid speed and submerging me. The moment it touched me, it turned into sticky black mud, blocking my mouth and nose and making me unable to breathe. I was sinking into the darkness of the unknown.
I coughed violently. Just when I was almost suffocated, it seemed that someone stuffed something into my mouth. I maintained a brief few seconds of clarity in the chaos, and I was picked up by a pair of arms.
I should be poisoned. In these few seconds of clarity, I even came to this conclusion. It was a powerful, colorless and odorless poison, or maybe it had a bit of an odor, but it was well covered up by the strong fragrance of the mead itself. What submerged my mouth and nose wasn't mud, but blood gushing out from my mouth and nose.
Dad, I vaguely remembered my dad's face. Dad could save me. But there was a blood clot stuck in my throat, and when I tried to speak, I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
My consciousness was like swaying back and forth between light and darkness. A few seconds later, I buried my face in the warm embrace that had been holding me tightly and lost all perception of the outside world.