“Merlin’s socks! Your disarming charm actually reached level four, and you until now didn’t disclose it to us!” Ron’s mouth opened wide in surprise: “Is that true? I mean – that graduate who is preparing to become an Auror, his disarming charm is only about level two.”
Harry pinned it all on accidental magic, “Professor Hap said it would make my magic active, which made … it makes me learn spells a lot faster.”
Ron said with a look of anticipation, “If only I could also experience an accidental magic.”
“Ron, Professor Hap said that accidental magic is a product of extreme emotions, and it usually happens before the young wizards enrol in school. By the time we enter Hogwarts and learn how to master our own magic, it pretty much disappears.”
Hermione said with a twinkle in her eye, “Just like Harry, his case is rare. It’s probably because that aunt insulted his parents first – oh, sorry, Harry.”
“It’s nothing,” Harry said, but Hermione still looked at him with an apologetic expression.
“I know~ Let me dream for a bit, alright?” Ron seemed to have thought of something and suddenly said excitedly, “Besides, it’s not out of the question? Once or twice during the summer, when Percy showed off his prefect badge to me, I had the thought of blowing it up.”
“There shouldn’t be much difference between blowing it up and bloating it up, right? It could be that I just didn’t have intense enough emotions at the time.” Ron speculated out of place, thinking it would be a shortcut to learning.
Hermione stared at him, and even Harry looked rather speechless.
“But having said that,” Harry looked at Ron thoughtfully, “I do feel more comfortable with the disarming charm, with other spells, it feels less interesting.”
Ron looked at him in disbelief, “It’s not because you’ve spent the most time on disarming charm, huh?”
Harry explained, ” Well, it’s a feeling! It’s just, it’s just …” he waved his hand, “Well, I’m not sure, it could really been an illusion.” He said with some frustration.
On the side, Hermione gave theoretical support: “Harry, it’s not impossible – there are always some little wizards who learn specific spells faster.”
“What book did you read that in?” Harry asked with interest, maybe he could put that idea into a thesis?
The thought of a thesis gave him a bit of a headache, he had spoken in the heat of the moment and hadn’t considered the consequences of it at all.
Although he had taken a bunch of miscellaneous notes during the special training, how to turn those into a decent thesis, he didn’t have half a clue – for some reason he did not feel like messing it up.
Hermione gave the answer, and he wondered something different, she narrowed her eyes and said merrily, with her cat in her embrace: “Remember the homework assigned in dueling class, those tables? I helped Professor Hap organize some of them, and he made that observation then, but …”
She showed a helpless expression: “The sample is too small, many of the data handed in are made up, I can see it at a glance!”
Ron’s eyes suddenly strayed, and Harry lowered his head sheepishly.
Hermione puffed up and looked at the two, those false data has a share of their credit.
At that moment, a hoarse, worn-out voice intervened in their conversation.
“Excuse me–”
The three looked over to the small table in some alarm; the professor seemed to have just woken up from a nap, and his face looked as downcast as his patched robe and badly worn suitcase.
But his eyes were bright and sincere, and this professor said gently, “I just overheard some of your conversations without the intention, but I did become curious.”
“Professor Lupin?” Hermione asked in a small voice.
“Yes, my name is Remus Lupin,” Lupin said with a smile, “and you saw the sign on my trunk? That’s perceptive, I’d have given you extra credit if it had been in class.”
“Remus Lupin?” Hermione let out a short squeal, startling the large ginger cat in her arms, which suddenly jumped out and stood in the aisle, looking reproachfully at its owner.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Crookshanks.” The little witch said.
“Get it under control, don’t let it find Scabbers!” Ron covered his breast pocket, where a lump protruded from the spot where his pet fat rat, Scabbers, holed in.
“You know me?” Lupin asked.
“No, not really.” She said dryly, hastily lowering her head and picking up the big cat.
Hermione’s attitude made Harry and Ron feel strange, but there is an outsider, the two tacitly did not ask.
Lupin also did not probe deeper, he looked at them with a smile: “I am your professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts class, only for one year, a deal with Dumbledore.”
Harry and Ron looked at each other as they mentally assessed the professor’s true level. Frankly, just from the appearance, it really does not provide confidence.
Lupin looked at the three gently, especially his gaze lingered on Harry for a moment, and then said, “I have been away from school for fifteen whole years, and many memories got faded, for example, I am not quite sure about the Professor Hap … as you guys called him.”
Harry and Ron gaze shifted towards Hermione, in this area, she would never let people down.
Sure enough, Hermione said under her breath, “Felix Hap, a very good wizard, graduated from Slytherin House, currently teaching ancient runes, while achieving extraordinary attainments in the field of Muggle studies, in which he has extraordinary influence.”
“And he’s only graduated three, no, four years ago now,” Harry added.
“What a young man.” Lupin sighed in admiration as he switched the topic and asked, “I heard you mention special training, is this Professor Hap very close to you, Harry?”
“You know me?” Harry subconsciously stroked his forehead locks, where there is a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, by which many people recognize him.
“I knew your father,” Lupin said briefly.
Harry isn’t too happy with that answer, but he nevertheless said, “Professor Hap is very kind as well, gentle and nice, although he only teaches classes from the third year, some of the first and second-year students have received help from him.”
He is referring to the fact that during the chamber of secret attack, the school was on edge and many people approached the professors for psychological comfort. And among them, Professor Hap had a very high rating.
Lupin thought for a moment and said, “You guys just mentioned that he has only graduated four years ago, so his head is … Severus Snape?”
“- is Snape.” Harry finished the following closely, then looked at Lupin somewhat smilingly, he did not mention the honorific.
Lupin did not have a reaction, he looked far away and fell into deep thought.
Outside the rain fell more heavily, the weather became dark, the train also slowed down.
“Are we getting there?”
“No, it’s still early!” Professor Lupin drew his wand, Harry followed and stood up.
The lights on the train went out abruptly, and people looked outside.
A layer of frost crept up the windows.
A man stumbled in through the door and smashed straight into where Ron stood, causing him to let out a cry of pain, and the sound of panicked breathing came from across the room.
“What’s happening? Ouch! Is that you, Neville?”
“Yes, it’s me, it’s dark outside all of a sudden, do you know what’s happening?”
More people poured in, and they talked in a jumble of noisy conversations.
“Is Ron there? I’m looking for Ron.”
“I’m here, Ginny!”
“Oops, that’s my face.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Neville, Neville Longbottom …”
“Quiet!” Lupin said loudly, raising his wand above his head, and light poured out from the tip of his wand, illuminating a flustered face.
The light illuminated his tired, gray face, but the presence of a grown-up wizard reassured everyone.
They heard Lupin saying, “Stay where you are, I’m going out to check.” He pulled open the door and went out into the hallway.
Harry thought about it and followed him out.
“Harry?” Hermione exclaimed anxiously.
“I’ll see if I can help.” Harry walked through the compartment door and followed Lupin.
A chill swept over them and Lupin quickly backed away, “Go back, Harry!”
But Harry didn’t hear it, his entire vision occupied by a black-cloaked, hooded thing floating in midair, a rotting, decaying, greying hand poking out of the cloak, followed by a chill so intense he felt his lungs freeze, and he couldn’t breathe at all.
A distant female voice chimed in, a terrible, frightened, pleading voice.
“I want to help her!”
He didn’t know why he had that thought, but it was so intense that even before he was about to lose consciousness, he made a subconscious attempt to respond.
A dazzling flash of red light illuminated the entire train.
———-
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