The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

Because tomorrow is Friday, the class schedule is relatively leisurely. Professor Sprout's herbal medicine class will not be held until noon. After Ron calmed down, several people in the dormitory continued to laugh and play for a long time, and they went to bed until the lights went out. rest.

Harry repeated it several times silently in his mind, wrote down the time and place of the meeting, and tucked the note into the Half-Blood Prince's textbook.

Getting close to Professor Slughorn is a long-term task. I was busy with exams last semester. Although I frequently attended Slughorn's private parties, I couldn't get a word in when it came to potions. At every banquet, I could only immerse myself in eating and socializing. There has been little progress, let alone the mention of Horcruxes.

But this semester is different. I have performed well in the Potions course. Slughorn is getting closer to me, and I believe there will be a breakthrough soon.

Tom Riddle as a student...

The secret about Horcruxes...

The character Slughorn once played...

Harry casually put the old textbook on the bedside, closed his eyes, and strange thoughts appeared in his mind. There were all kinds of things. He didn't know how long it took, and his thinking speed became slower and slower. The last thought was that the howling wind outside the window changed. Smaller.

Before I knew it, I fell into a deep sleep.

There was only one candle lamp left in the dormitory with the doors and windows closed, and the dim yellow light burned quietly. In the dead of night, the old textbook beside the pillow suddenly moved automatically without any wind. The pages were opened one by one, and finally stopped at the page that recorded the hanging golden clock. The words were quietly hidden, releasing a white shimmer.

Harry, who was deeply asleep, unconsciously smacked his lips, turned over, and rested one hand on the page of the book.

An unconscious murmur came from Harry's mouth.

He began to dream.

…

The third Friday in September.

There is only one session of Herbalism in the morning.

The sixth-grade wizards gathered outside the greenhouse. Some were stamping their feet to remove dirt from their boots, some were leaning on the crack of the door to peek in, and some were holding books to their chests and chatting quietly with the classmates around them.

The textbook for this semester is "The Encyclopedia of Carnivorous Trees". The name sounds dangerous, but the more dangerous it is, the more exciting it is, and the more excited the little wizards are.

Before long, Professor Sprout walked over in small steps. He was wearing a brown gardener's uniform. He was short and plump and didn't look very old.

Neville handed the textbook to Hannah and walked over to say hello to the professor. As one of the few students with perfect marks in Herbology, he was now Professor Sprout's teaching assistant.

During career counseling last year, Professor McGonagall suggested that he stay in school as a teaching assistant for two years and then succeed Sprout as professor of herbal medicine. Neville was a little moved, but he didn't agree because his grandmother wanted him to become an Auror.

I heard that the old Mrs. Longbottom was scolded by Professor McGonagall in a letter, and the subsequent development was unclear. Neville refused to tell, and even Hannah couldn't ask.

Herbology assistant Neville took the initiative to take the key and open the greenhouse door, open the locker, and distribute the teaching tools for this class, gardening scissors, gardening shovel, protective glasses, rubber gloves, ceramic bowls...

Professor Sprout turned to face the students and smiled: "Good morning, students, starting from this class, we will learn about the important plant of this semester, the knotweed vine!"

"Can anyone tell me the characteristics of Pimple Vine?"

"Miss Granger said it in great detail. Even I can't say anything more. Gryffindor adds 5 points for this..."

"You are already sixth grade students, there is no need for me to emphasize the precautions in the greenhouse..."

"Enter the greenhouse below and observe the pimple vine up close..."

The course soon entered the second half. The students were divided into groups to freely observe the knotweed vine and learn about its shape and color, growth environment, physiological characteristics, and behavioral habits... The little wizards were already experienced. If nothing else, this lesson was The homework after class should be to write an observation report, about 10 inches long.

As usual, Loren's group of four gathered around the stump of a knotty vine. Hermione was in charge of observing carefully while the other three began to chat.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Harry asked, his tone hesitant as he put on his protective glasses.

Loren looked at him with some surprise, "Harry, we have known each other for six years, why would we start the conversation with such a lame greeting?"

"Uh... I had a strange dream last night."

"Um?!"

Ron's eyes widened slightly behind his protective glasses, staring straight at him.

Hermione looked up at him and asked seriously: "Did you dream about Voldemort again?"

"No, it's not." Harry shook his head quickly, hesitated for a few seconds, and whispered, "I dreamed about my mother and Aunt Petunia. The specific scene was very vague. It seemed that they were chasing each other by the river when they were young..."

"Don't think too much, Harry, it's normal to dream about loved ones." Ron said carelessly, "I dream about my mother every semester at school. After hearing about their love story, I also dreamed about them in the courtyard. We went on a date in Rio, but got caught by Filch..."

"Yeah……"

"Normal dreams are weird and illogical. This doesn't mean anything. When they were studying at Hogwarts, the administrator was not Filch."

"..."

Loren and Hermione looked at each other, then lowered their heads to observe the roots of the knotty vine, which were covered with knots and tentacle-like thorns, and were numb.

The pods on the branches are about to mature and are bulging, and the pods inside are squirming restlessly.

I'm afraid it's not easy to draw the sketch of the observation record.

…

Saturday night.

"Sour popping candy."

Harry said the password on the note to the stone statue. With a rumble, the wall behind the statue moved away, revealing a spiral staircase. He stepped on the steps, and the staircase automatically spiraled up, all the way to the oak door with a brass door knocker.

"Knock, knock..."

"Come in."

"Good evening, sir."

"Ah, good evening, Harry."

Dumbledore sat behind the desk with a smile.

This office looked the same as usual, with exquisite silver ornaments, paintings of the headmaster, and a sleepy Fawkes. If there was anything worth noting, it was probably the meditation basin on the table, with silver-white smoke floating slowly, as light as clouds on the lake.

Harry was no stranger to the Pensieve. He had seen Dumbledore's memories, Karkaroff's trial, the elf Hokey's memories, and Tom Riddle's murder of Hepzibah Smith after graduation, taking away Hufflepuff's gold cup and Slytherin's locket...

Harry had some guesses in his heart: "Professor, did you get Professor Slughorn's memories about Horcruxes?"

"No, Horace is very defensive against me."

"Whose memories are we going to? What secret things are we going to see?"

"Not really secret..."

Dumbledore recalled the scene of exploring the old Gaunt house with Loren a few years ago. He was in a trance for a few seconds, and shook his head when he came to his senses. "I just think that you should see these scenes with your own eyes and learn more about the... stories of the year."

"What stories?"

"Let's go, let's take a walk on the path outside Hangleton."