We soon understood what Percy meant in his letter by "more power". The next morning, the front page of the Daily Prophet carried a large photo of Umbridge with the headline "Ministry of Magic Seeks Educational Reform - Dolores Umbridge Appointed as the First Senior Inquisitor".

"They've finally made their interference blatant," Hermione said, folding the newspaper. "The Inquisitor will have the power to examine her fellow teachers to ensure they all meet the standards... These new measures by the Ministry of Magic have received enthusiastic support from the parents of Hogwarts students."

"Who supported it?" Taurus asked.

"Lucius Malfoy," Harry replied simply, taking the newspaper and looking at the next page. Then he frowned. "Wait, Sturgis Podmore has been arrested for illegally entering the Ministry of Magic. He seems to be - "

"Someone we met during the summer vacation," Hermione interrupted him with a hint of warning. "He was supposed to pick up Neville, but he never showed up. It's better not to discuss this in the Great Hall."

I didn't say anything. The name was almost completely unfamiliar to me. I only vaguely remembered that he was one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix who brought Neville from his great-uncle's house to Grimmauld Place. From time to time, owls flew in through the window and landed in front of others, bringing them letters or packages of various sizes from their families. By the time the cereal in the bowl had cooled significantly and we would be late if we didn't leave, I still hadn't waited for Vivian.

"Harry, has Hedwig been delivering letters for you recently?" I asked him uneasily before the History of Magic class.

"I haven't used Hedwig since Taurus said Filch wanted to check his letters last time," he yawned as he answered me (Professor Binns had drifted slowly into the classroom). "Taurus can contact his dad with the two - way mirror, and we decided not to use owls to send letters for the time being - Hedwig was quite upset. She pecked me hard last time. What's wrong?"

I shook my head, turned around, and opened my notebook, forcing myself to write down every word Professor Binns said following his voice. Umbridge didn't show up in the History of Magic class ("Maybe she's worried she'll fall asleep during the inspection," Ron analyzed). Nor did she appear in my dad's dungeon classroom ("What a pity. I was looking forward to seeing if Snape would poison her this morning - I'm just kidding!" Ron said after getting a glare from Hermione). Dad walked between the desks in the classroom, returning the homework to everyone. He still coldly told me to move to the other side of the classroom to sit. This reminded me of the time before Christmas when I went to Aunt Petunia's house. She always made me sit diagonally across the table from Dudley.

"I graded your homework according to the O.W.L. exam standards," he said icily. "I have to say your level is abysmal - most of you would fail if you handed in such a mess in the exam. I hope you can spend more effort on this week's essay about different types of antidotes, or I'll have to give detention to those stupid ones who got a 'D'."

Although he didn't point it out explicitly, he stared at Harry all the time while speaking. There were mocking chuckles from the Slytherin side. I unfolded my essay. Almost every line on it was filled with marks written by my dad. He had corrected my mistakes word by word and sentence by sentence in a strict manner. He even changed the ink color halfway. There was a slender A written in the blank space at the top. I noticed that the colors of the "A" and the "" were a bit different. Maybe he thought giving me just an A would be too much of a blow to my confidence. After careful consideration and modification, he added a small plus sign to show encouragement.

"You only got an A?" Patil leaned over to look at my essay. "Suddenly I don't feel so bad about getting a 'P'."

I shrugged. Dad had always made up his mind not to let me get too high a score in his class. He could find a whole bunch of faults with me whenever he wanted. I was already used to it.

At lunchtime, Hermione was having a heated discussion with the Weasley twins about the O.W.L. exam grade divisions. I listened absent - mindedly while looking around the Great Hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Vivian. The Weasley twins said that Umbridge had appeared in Professor Flitwick's Charms class, scribbling on her writing board and asking students questions.

The Arithmancy class in the afternoon was peaceful, even though it was pouring outside with thunder and lightning from time to time. We were asked to calculate the relationship between the names of several famous wizards and their personalities using numbers. The part we didn't finish in class was this week's homework. When we set off for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, we didn't have any expectations. As expected, we were asked to put away our wands and start the dull reading.

Hermione kept taking deep breaths to calm herself down. I could almost hear her muttering to herself not to cause trouble for Umbridge again and not to make things worse. However, twenty minutes into the class, Umbridge, with a sweet smile, woke up Taurus, who had his head on the book and was sound asleep.

"Dear, this isn't a place to catch up on sleep," she said to Taurus in a sickly - sweet voice. "We should learn knowledge in class."

"Really?" Taurus looked around sleepily. "Where is the knowledge?"

Umbridge raised her eyebrows and leaned closer to his face. "Are you questioning my teaching method, Mr. Black?"

"Yes," Taurus said cheerfully. "Can I go back to sleep then?"

The rest of the class had to cover their faces with books to hide the fact that they were trying hard not to laugh. Umbridge's eyes turned cold. She walked up to the podium and said to everyone, "Five points from Gryffindor. Mr. Black, the teaching method I adopt has been approved by the educational experts of the Ministry of Magic. They are more authoritative than any of you. The previous teachers who taught you this course might have given you too much freedom, leading you to have inappropriate misunderstandings about this course. In fact, apart from Professor Quirrell, I don't think any of the others could have passed the Ministry of Magic's inspection. I hope to bring you back on track who have gone astray—"

"By the way, let You - Know - Who stick to the back of your head?" A very soft voice interrupted her impassioned speech. Neville turned a page of his book. As if he had just noticed that everyone was looking at him in disbelief, he looked up and said, "Oh, sorry. Because it seems you want to take Quirrell as an example. This was one of his hobbies. I think you surely know that."

"I think you, like Mr. Potter, need to have your detention extended from one day to a week," Umbridge said smoothly.

"What does he think he's doing?" Harry fumed after class, shouting at Neville's retreating figure. "I tied him to his seat like a fool last week and went to Umbridge's for a week of detention. Does he think that woman's detention is really just about copying sentences?!"

"What is it then?" Hermione whipped around and stared into his eyes. "I thought you were acting strange last week. What did she make you do?"

"Uh, nothing..." Harry deflated instantly. He stammered, trying to cover up what he'd let slip while hiding his right hand with the sticker behind his back. "Just... copying sentences."

Hermione, Taurus, and Ron blocked Harry, who was trying to slip away, and angrily demanded to know the truth. I was considering whether I should also join them to show that I knew nothing about this. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small figure staggering through the rain outside the window. I immediately left them and ran towards the window.

"Vivian!" I managed to recognize Vivian, but for some reason, she didn't dare to approach me. Instead, she flew towards another window. "Where are you going? I'm here!"

She seemed extremely frightened, constantly flying from one window to another nearby. I noticed that her wings and claws seemed to be injured. She could barely hold onto the rain - soaked windowsill and almost slipped down several times. But as soon as I got close, she flapped her wings desperately and flew even further away.

"What happened?" I didn't dare to open the window rashly. I looked at the little owl, huddled in pain, through the glass, and felt my voice trembling. "Vivian, I'm Iris! Look at me. I'm your owner. Take a good look."

The rain was so heavy that it was like buckets of water being poured directly onto the castle windows. My hair was almost completely wet from opening five windows in a row. I didn't dare to move, afraid she'd fly elsewhere. After staring at each other for a long time, she finally managed to come closer and peck at the window with her beak. I noticed that the leg with the letter tied to it was bent abnormally, as if it had been roughly yanked.

"Don't be afraid, it's me." I opened the window a tiny crack as gently as possible. "Be good, listen. Vivian is a good owl—" There were footsteps behind me. I was just about to grab her, but the next second, she let out a pained shriek, flapped her wings, and took off. I watched in despair as she turned and plunged into the pouring rain, flying towards the Quidditch pitch.

"What are you doing here?" Filch shuffled towards me. "Skulking around!"

"Shut up!" I turned around and roared at him, full of anger. "Is there a school rule that says students aren't allowed here? If there is, wait until I get back and give me detention. If not, just shut up!"

Filch huffed menacingly as if he'd been offended, but I didn't have time to waste with him. I turned and rushed down the stairs, pushing through a large group of Slytherins who had just finished class.

"Are you crazy? It's pouring outside!" I heard Draco shout behind me.

The rain was so heavy that I felt like every breath would draw in cold rainwater into my nostrils, giving me the illusion that I was actually walking at the bottom of a lake. My completely soaked robe couldn't keep me warm at all at this moment. Instead, it just clung tightly to my legs, restricting my running speed. After running a few steps, I took off the robe and wrapped it around my hand. Anyway, I was soaked from head to toe. Vivian was flying aimlessly in the heavy rain. I even felt that she had long since run out of strength and was just being blown further away by the wind.

In the heavy rain, I couldn't see clearly where I was running. I had probably run past the greenhouses and a large expanse of grassland. The lake was not far away, with dense ripples being pounded out by the rain. I spat out the hair in my mouth and shouted loudly at Vivian, "Come back! Vivian, come here! Accio Vivian！"

I had never used the Summoning Charm on a living creature, but it seemed to be of no use. Instead, the light from my wand seemed to startle Vivian. She fled in a panic, changing direction and continuing to fly. Because of her injured wing, her flying height was constantly dropping, but I was also gradually losing the strength to chase her due to the cold.

Vivian finally landed on the ground. I wiped the rain off my face and carefully prepared to approach her step by step. The rain suddenly seemed to have lessened a lot. In the biting cold, I vaguely realized—but the ripples on the distant lake surface were clearly even bigger than before.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me back several steps. A dull thud came from the place where I had just been standing, splashing up rainwater and mud from the ground. Countless thick and hard branches lashed wildly at the ground and in all directions, trying to drive away the uninvited guest who had intruded into their territory. The raindrops they whipped up hit my face, causing a pain like being hit by pebbles.

"Diffindo! Diffindo!" I shrieked, attacking the willow branches that were pounding towards Vivian. "Diffindo—Vivian! Fly away quickly! This is the Whomping Willow—Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra!"

Maybe she managed to fly up a little bit, or perhaps it was just a wishful illusion the downpour had created for me. In a daze, I saw a tiny owl dodging one willow branch after another that were crashing down on it. It spread its wings and flew towards a more distant place, its small figure turning into a gray dot on the horizon, just like the way it had tilted its head to look at me, affectionately nibbled my thumb, and then flown away before.

"I'll buy you another owl," I felt someone cup my face as tears kept streaming down. The warm tears instantly merged with the rainwater. Chills kept rising from my feet. He buried my face in his also soaked chest, preventing me from looking at the Whomping Willow that was still furiously attacking the ground. "I'll buy you one exactly the same as it, okay? I'll write to my father and ask Hogwarts to chop down this crazy tree—"

"I don't want it," I tried to break free blankly. "I want to save Vivian, I—"

"It's already..." He held me tightly, not allowing me to get close to the attacking range of the Whomping Willow. "It's just an owl. It's okay, Iris. I'll buy you another one—don't look."

I don't know how long it took for the Whomping Willow to gradually calm down. It lifted its battered willow branches, shaking off the dirty mud and water clinging to the leaves and twigs. A small furry mass rolled lifelessly to one side. Feathers were mixed with the mud, and the rain had almost washed away all its blood. After all, it was just a small owl and didn't have much blood to lose.

"Vivian..." I crouched down and futilely wrapped it with my robe, then looked up blankly at Draco. "Shall we go find Madam Pomfrey... or Professor Grubbly - Plank..."

"Iris," Draco crouched down too. I saw a disheveled reflection of myself in his eyes. The rain kept falling down his pale face as well. He said to me in a very soft voice, "It's already—"

"But Professor Grubbly - Plank is very capable," I said stubbornly. "She knows everything. She knows how to treat severely injured unicorns and how to heal the broken bones of bowtruckles. She—"

"Liz," he reached out his cold hand and tucked the hair that was sticking to my cheeks due to being wet behind my ears. "It's dead."

I stared at him for a while, then lowered my head and started sobbing. In this heavy rain, we both temporarily forgot many things.

I held my first owl in my life through the robe and stared blankly in the rain for a long time, constantly trying to smooth her messy feathers. She was a little one who loved to groom herself, but now her feathers were all tangled together, messily covering her small body. The more I tried to tidy them, the more they fell out. Her wings were tightly wrapped around her injured right paw. At the last moment of her life, she was still trying to protect the letter my mother sent me. I held that letter in my hand.

"I don't want to take her back to the castle," I said as Draco led me towards the castle. "If she's going to be eaten by Mrs. Norris in the end... I..."

He paused and said, "Then we have to be quick. It's starting to get dark."

Finally, by the lake, I used my wand to dig a small pit and buried Vivian, who was wrapped in my robe, in it. I placed a stone there as a marker. Draco didn't interfere, just used his wand to create a small area to keep the rain off me. After I finally stood up, he said, "I'll buy you another one—"

"No need," I shook my head. "Having one owl was enough for me."

Maybe many people couldn't understand the grief I felt at that moment. Just as Draco said at that time, it was just an owl. I had dissected countless toad corpses expressionlessly since I was a child to get the venom from the bumps on their skin. And not long ago, I had just witnessed Mr. Crouch's body suddenly appear on this field. But what I felt at that time was mostly fear. To be selfish, to me, he was just a name with the labels of an elder and a senior official of the Ministry of Magic.

But Vivian was different. When I didn't need her to send letters for a long time at Hogwarts, she would fly out from the shed to play with me, and remind me of her existence with her shiny eyes. During the holidays, she loved to jump into the sink in the washroom and peck at the faucet, splashing water all over the floor. Molting time was like a disaster, and her feathers could be found in every room as souvenirs. I always forgot that I had only had her for a year—because I could hardly remember what life was like without her.

This was the first time in a true sense that I had lost a life that was closely connected to me. Standing just a stone's throw away, I was almost powerless. Years later, on another rainy day, as I wrote down this memory, I, who, like Hermione, had never believed that fate could be casually divined, thought about all that had happened afterward. Suddenly, it seemed as if everything was slowly moving forward on a huge pre - drawn disc. Then, I abruptly remembered that in my third year, when I returned the crystal ball and entered Professor Trelawney's classroom for the first time, she said she saw rain in my eyes.

At that time, I thought the grief of losing Vivian would last a lifetime, and I was also convinced that I would never have a second owl. But in fact, when I was about to go to America and had to buy another owl to keep in touch with my parents at home, I didn't feel that much grief. When I chose the current Vivian and it gently nibbled my thumb, I only felt a vague sense of melancholy washed away by time.

When I, at the age of fourteen, got my first owl, I thought it would be by my side for a long, long time. Then, in a heavy rain when I was fifteen, I lost it unexpectedly. Many years have passed since then, and so many things have happened. After all, children are forced to grow up day by day in the cold wind and rain, facing the cruelty of the world, while adults are gradually forced to accept indifference and forgetfulness in the torrent of time.

And those who caused these losses, from birth to death, never had a moment of repentance. They never felt that they should be responsible for these sufferings.

The castle had started to light up. On this stormy night, all the students were huddled in the common rooms of their respective houses, either reviewing their lessons or chatting casually. In the corridors, apart from the movement of the portraits visiting each other, only a few ghosts could be seen passing by occasionally. I didn't feel hungry even though I hadn't had dinner. I felt that my stomach was filled with something cold. I had thought Filch would be waiting menacingly on the steps in front of the Great Hall to catch me red - handed, but on the way back to the Gryffindor Tower, I didn't even encounter Mrs. Norris. I only heard Peeves singing in an empty classroom on the second floor. I used the drying spell on my clothes, and they no longer dripped water, but I still didn't feel warm - I felt as if I had just climbed out of the bottom of a lake.

It was only when I was almost at the portrait of the Fat Lady that I belatedly realized I was still wearing Draco's robe. I didn't even know when he took it off and gave it to me. It would be stupid to try to return it to him at this time. I bet Filch was raring to make me pay for yelling at him earlier. So I took it off, folded it into a square, covering the part of the Slytherin crest, and then asked the Fat Lady to open the hole in the portrait.

Hermione and the others were sitting around the fireplace, earnestly discussing something with Neville. Their expressions all seemed rather serious. Hermione looked up, saw me, and waved me over. I shook my head at her, pointed to the steps leading to the girls' dormitory, and made a gesture indicating that I wanted to go back and rest. She must have noticed that my hair was still wet, and a look of confusion crossed her face, but she was quickly distracted by what the boys were discussing.

The girls' dormitory was rarely completely quiet - even when everyone was fast asleep, there would be the occasional faint murmur in the darkness. Patil and Brown were happily listening to the "Wizard 188 Late - night Emotional Radio" while doing their Divination homework. I heard a voice in my head reminding me that the homework I needed to do today was still blank in my schoolbag, but I just ignored this thought, like turning off a noisy alarm clock, and buried myself in the soft bedding.

I was still holding something in my hand. I slowly raised it. It was the crumpled letter, with one of Vivian's feathers stuck to it. On the envelope was my mother's familiar and gentle handwriting, addressed to "Iris Snape, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts".

I opened it. It was just an ordinary letter from a mother comforting her daughter who was feeling anxious about the new semester. It was full of chatter, a bit of reminiscence, some words of encouragement, and finally a bit of consolation. She said that although she had said I had never disappointed her and Dad, in fact, they would never be disappointed in me, whether it was the O.W.L. exams or the N.E.W.T. exams. These couldn't determine a wizard's long life.

I don't know how long it passed. I seemed to have fallen into a drowsy sleep and had a chaotic dream. In the dream, Vivian was squatting on the windowsill of my house, tilting her head to look at me. I reached out my hand to stroke her furry head, but she suddenly flapped her wings and flew away. A feather was floating leisurely in the clear sky. The moment I wanted to catch it, a bolt of lightning struck along with a loud thunderclap. In the pouring rain, I realized that my hand was empty. It seemed that something was falling from a distant tower. I heard people's wailing and screaming, and then the ground beneath my feet started to shake, and even the starry sky above was tottering.

"Iris," I heard someone calling me. "Iris, wake up." With great effort, I opened my eyes. Hermione, in her pajamas, was patting my face. Her long, loose hair was hanging messily over my nose, making me want to sneeze. The lights in the dormitory had been turned off, and the other girls must have fallen into a sweet and long - lasting sleep after a tiring day.

"I just came back... and heard you crying," she said softly, using the sleeve of her pajamas to wipe my face. "Did you have a nightmare?"

I grasped her warm wrist, feeling as if my throat was blocked by something. It was only with great pain that I could squeeze out a hoarse voice: "Hermione, Vivian is dead."

"You just had a nightmare," she said gently. "You're so worried about her. Maybe she'll be back tomorrow morning, or perhaps she came back tonight but it was too late, so she went back to the Owlery first—"

"She's really dead," I showed her the opened envelope. "She... for some reason got frightened, lost her way in the rain... and then landed near the Whomping Willow. I watched her... I shouldn't have chased her. If she hadn't felt like she was being chased..."

I couldn't go on. If I did, I would have to face the fact that it was me who killed Vivian.

Hermione covered her mouth.

"I buried her by the lake... I was afraid she'd be eaten by Mrs. Norris," I said in a low voice. "Hermione, I feel so bad."

She nodded continuously, tightly holding my cold hand and pressing it against her warm cheek. Her face also became wet.

Hermione stayed with me for a while until I pretended to fall asleep again and she got up and left. In fact, I felt completely exhausted, but a voice in my head kept whispering: "Do you know? Vivian will never come back."

This voice lasted for a long time, like a thin needle poking at my heart at a fixed frequency. It didn't keep nagging, not even giving me the "luck" of getting numb. Whenever I felt a bit drowsy, this voice would suddenly pop up, making me wake up completely due to the heart - wrenching pain.

I felt that my limbs had lost the ability to seek warmth, so I adjusted my position, trying to wrap myself up in the quilt. My arm seemed to be prodded by something hard. I touched it and felt it was a ball - shaped object, but I couldn't remember what it was.

I sat up and groped around by the faint light of my wand tip. I found that when I came back, I had carelessly thrown Draco's robe onto the bed, and that round, hard object must be something from the pocket of his robe. Subconsciously, I reached out to take it out and see what it was, but then stopped mid - air and withdrew my hand.

I was still wearing the clothes that had been soaked in the heavy rain and then dried. Finally realizing this, I got up to change into my pajamas. The noise I made drew the dissatisfaction of Patil on the opposite side. She mumbled something sleepily, telling me to be quiet, and then fell asleep again. I stood up quietly, wanting to rummage through the cabinet to find my pajamas and put Draco's robe at the bedside by the way.

The round object rolled out of the pocket of his robe and landed on the ground with a rather loud sound. Fortunately, it didn't arouse more protests. I listened to the sound to figure out where it had rolled to. It seemed to have finally stopped by the window.

"Lumos," I whispered softly. Actually, it wasn't necessary. It was a glass ball, which could reflect the faint starlight filtering through the gap in the curtains even at night.

It was an ordinary glass ball with nothing inside. I picked it up and took a look. I wondered why Draco would carry it in his pocket. Could it be a Remembrall? Since when did he need such a thing?

I wanted to put it back into his robe and return it to him along with the robe when I had time tomorrow. Before putting it back, I noticed that it was emitting a faint glow as I held it.

"Draco," a line of small, dim letters emerged, illuminating the empty glass ball.