manynovel Chapter 242 Returning to Hogwarts
Chapter 242 Returning to Hogwarts
Chapter 242 Returning to Hogwarts
Pushing open the familiar box door, Karen saw Wesley, Fabian, and Ernesto all there. Wesley was animatedly gesturing as he recounted the "wonderful goals" of the summer soccer match and his brilliant Quidditch tactics, Fabian was carefully watering the plants in the small box he had brought, and Ernesto was engrossed in reading a star chart.
"Hey guys, I'm home." Karen walked in, closed the door, shutting out the noise from outside.
"Karen!" Wesley jumped up first. "Where have you been all this time? You've been so secretive! Fabian said you dropped off your luggage and went back to the station? Ernesto and I didn't see you when we arrived! What happened?"
Fabian put down the watering can, adjusted his glasses, and asked with concern, "Yes, Karen, you seemed to be in a hurry just now. Did you see someone suspicious?" He recalled the tense atmosphere at the end of last semester.
Even Ernesto looked up from his book, his gray eyes questioning.
Karen sat down in the empty seat, took the bag of Bubble Gum that Wesley handed her, unwrapped one piece, and popped it into her mouth.
The spicy blueberry flavor and the sensation of my ears burning helped me relax a little.
"Yeah, I ran into a little trouble." He organized his thoughts, "I was at the platform entrance when I ran into Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and we almost missed our train."
"Porter?" Ernesto raised an eyebrow. "He almost got late?"
"Almost?" Wesley's interest was piqued. "Tell me quickly! Did someone cause them trouble again? From Slytherin?"
Karen shook her head: "Not a person. A house-elf. An elf named Dobby cast a spell on the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at the last minute, solidifying the wall. Harry and Ron ran right into it."
"House-elves? Spells?" Fabian's eyes widened in surprise. "How could they do such a thing? And be allowed to cast spells at the Wizarding Station?"
"Dobby? That name sounds familiar?" Ernesto repeated the name, his brow furrowing slightly, a hint of understanding and disdain flashing in his gray eyes. "Hmph, I think I know which family it is. I've attended a few Malfoy family gatherings with my grandfather and father before, and this house-elf's name seems to be from the Malfoy family. That makes sense; only someone like Lucius Malfoy would raise such a neurotic and audacious elf." His tone was certain, filled with undisguised disgust for the Malfoy family.
"The Malfoy elf?" Wesley exclaimed. "That ferret's dad? What's he up to? What good would it do him to stop Potter from going back to school? Is he still holding a grudge about last year's Quidditch match? That's so petty!"
Karen nodded. "Ernest's speculation is pretty much what I thought. Dobby intercepted Harry's letters all summer and even went to the Dursleys' house to warn Harry not to return to Hogwarts, saying there was deadly danger there. It seemed to want to protect Harry, but the methods it used were extremely bad, almost killing him. Just now, it did the same thing, resorting to creating chaos in public to prevent Harry from getting on the train."
"Deadly danger? Another mysterious figure?" Fabian asked worriedly. "Does he have another scheme up his sleeve?"
"It's hard to say," Cullen replied cautiously. "Dobby mentioned that the power of the mysterious man has increased at Hogwarts. But what exactly it is, it's bound by the contract with the house-elves and can't be said explicitly. It might be alarmist, or there might be some hidden dangers we don't know about. In any case, I gave Harry a spyglass that I made, just in case."
"Well done, Karen!" Wes patted Karen on the shoulder forcefully. "That's how you deal with the Malfoys!"
"Next Quidditch match, watch how I teach that little weasel Draco a lesson!" He could already see himself displaying his prowess on the field.
"Alright, let's not talk about that anymore." Karen changed the subject. He didn't want to dwell too much on how he saw through Dobby's invisibility and quick spellcasting. "Have you looked at the reading list for the new semester? How's it going?" He pointed to the huge package containing Lockhart's works that he had placed on the luggage rack.
This topic immediately resonated with many.
"Oh, Merlin's stinky socks!" Wesley was the first to groan, pointing at Karen's package, "Look at that!"
Seven books! A whole seven Gilderoy Lockhart books! "Breaking Up with the Ghost," "Walking with Trolls"—is he planning to "friendly visit" every dangerous creature in the wizarding world? What's the use of these books? Is Defense Against the Dark Arts just about learning how to get autographs and photos with monsters? He looked utterly hopeless.
Fabian shook his head with a wry smile: "I flipped through the beginning of one of them, and the writing—well—was very 'vivid.' It was full of flowery adjectives and—uh—lots of close-up photos of people."
Ernesto, on the other hand, wore an expression of pure disdain. He tapped his long, slender fingers dismissively on the "Simple Introduction to Ancient Runes" and "Theory of Magic" on his small table: "Popularity-seeking. Can someone become a Hogwarts professor just by boasting about adventures and having a pretty face? Is Dumbledore's brain filled with sugar rats? Ravenclaw's reputation is going to be ruined by people like this!" He especially emphasized the words "Ravenclaw".
"Wait a minute," Wesley said, as if remembering something, looking at Ernesto. "Ernesto, you just said—Lockhart graduated from Ravenclaw?"
“That’s right,” Ernesto said irritably. “My father mentioned him as a flamboyant, self-promotional guy who loved to show off in school and write flashy but empty articles. I really don’t know what the Sorting Hat was thinking back then.”
"Ravenclaw again?" Fabian was also surprised. "Professor Quirrell from last year, I remember—wasn't he also a graduate of our house?"
The box fell silent for a moment. Quirinus Quirrell, last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the tragic figure who was possessed by Voldemort and ultimately died at the hands of the Basilisk, was indeed a Ravenclaw.
Wesley scratched his fiery red hair, his expression somewhat strange: "Uh—our house's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—"
Was he just unlucky? Or was the position itself cursed? He recalled the rumor that "no one had been able to hold the position for more than a year for many consecutive years."
Ernesto snorted, his tone carrying a complex mix of pride in the Academy and heartache for certain "scoundrels": "Ravenclaws pursue wisdom and knowledge, that's fine. But when wisdom is misused, or distorted by ambition and fear, it becomes a terrible thing. Quirrell is a prime example; he yearned to prove himself but went astray, seduced by power, and ultimately consumed. As for Lockhart—" he curled his lip, "his wisdom is probably all spent on packaging himself as a bestselling author and heartthrob. I'll be grateful if he doesn't 'surprise' anything in class or lead his students astray." He clearly held no hope for Lockhart's teaching abilities.
"At least—it shouldn't be worse than Quirrell, right?" Fabian said cautiously, trying to find some comfort. "Quirell is possessed by a mysterious person—"
"That's not necessarily true," Karen interjected casually, recalling Lockhart's Cornish elf disaster and the Oblivion Curse that ultimately backfired in the original story. "Sometimes, pure stupidity and incompetence can cause just as much chaos as malice." He didn't say anything more, but the meaning behind his words made the other three nod in deep agreement.
The conversation then turned to the courses they had chosen.
"Ancient runes!" Ernesto's grey eyes lit up at the mention of this, his previous gloom vanishing. "This is the knowledge that truly holds power. The structure, combination, and resonance with magic of the runes—it's far beyond what those fancy adventure stories can offer. My grandfather collected several medieval rune manuscripts, and I studied them during the summer vacation; they're incredibly exquisite." His tone was full of longing.
"Protect magical creatures!" Wesley exclaimed excitedly. "I heard Professor Kettleburn is teaching for the last time this year? He's a legend! I really hope to see him demonstrate how to deal with chimeras or pentagons! Of course, a safe demonstration would be best—" He added, recalling the trolls and spiders in the Forbidden Forest last semester.
Fabian, however, was more concerned with his plants: "Arithmetic divination—it sounds like a real test of logic. Hopefully, it will help me better plan the variables and cycles of my greenhouse experiments. Professor Sprout said that a new batch of magical fungi will be introduced to the greenhouse this semester, and I'm particularly interested in them." His eyes gleamed with academic interest.
"And you, Karen?" Wesley looked at Karen. "Three courses must be a breeze for you, right? We thought you were going to take them all! You must have learned a lot of amazing things with Master Lemaître in France this summer!"
Karen smiled. "Very fruitful. Ancient runes are the foundation of alchemy, and I must delve into them. The logical deduction of arithmetic divination is helpful for experimental design. Protecting magical creatures—it's both a hobby and a way to broaden my horizons." He didn't elaborate on the Soul Prism, Fiendfire control, or Horcrux research; those topics were somewhat heavy and dangerous. "As for relaxation—hopefully. This semester's Defense Against the Dark Arts class will probably waste a lot of time again." He shrugged helplessly.
The train traveled smoothly through fields and hills, the scenery outside the window rushing past. The four chatted about their summer vacation experiences.
The anticipation for the lessons, the new Quidditch season (Wesley and Ernesto were both brimming with confidence), and the longing for castle life filled the box. A relaxed and cheerful atmosphere temporarily dispelled the lingering shadow of the dramatic scene on the platform.
As darkness fell, the train began to slow down and finally came to a stop at Hogsmeade Station. A chilly atmosphere, carrying the scent of rain and snow, swept over us.
"We're here! Get off, get off!" Wesley was the first to jump up and grab his luggage.
"First-year students! This way!" Hagrid's booming voice rang out on the platform. His huge figure and lantern were particularly conspicuous in the rain and snow, guiding the bewildered freshmen toward the small boats by the lake.
Karen and her roommates walked toward the waiting Thestrals. These magical, skeletal Pegasus-like creatures, visible only to those who have witnessed death, stood silently in the drizzle, their empty eye sockets staring ahead.
Karen calmly walked to one of the cars and easily boarded. Wesley, Fabian, and Ernesto followed closely behind.
The carriage was dry and warm inside, a stark contrast to the damp chill outside. The wheels rolled on, and the Thestrals pulled the carriage smoothly along the familiar road, into the deepening night, towards the brightly lit Hogwarts Castle in the distance.
Karen gazed through the rain-streaked car window at the deep, inky surface of the Black Lake. Raindrops pattered against the water, creating countless tiny ripples. If all went well and the diary problem was resolved, perhaps this year he could properly explore this mysterious body of water, and the unexplored corners of the castle. He planned meticulously, his gaze calm.
The carriage drove up the slope leading to the castle gates. Hogwarts, once again, opened its ancient embrace to welcome fresh blood.
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