Time flies, and people always yearn for an exciting life, but they don't realize that the ordinary everyday life is the most precious treasure.
June has arrived, and the days have become sultry and cloudless. Everyone just wants to take a walk outdoors, bring a few pints of iced pumpkin juice, and lie down on the grass. Maybe play a game of skipping stones or watch the giant squid advance dreamily on the lake.
But almost no students do this. Exams are approaching, and the students not only cannot laze around outdoors, but also have to stay in the castle, enduring the temptation of the summer breeze blowing in from the windows, forcing their brains to work hard.
"Why do I have to stay in the boring library and read these boring textbooks written by boring old men in this weather!" Pansy threw the textbook in her hand aside for the eleventh time, complaining, while looking at Malfoy with expectant eyes, not knowing what she was expecting. Maybe she wanted Malfoy to relieve her boredom?
"Mr. Zygmunt Budge might be secretly crying in his grave if he heard you call him that," Malfoy said sympathetically, closing his copy of "Magical Drafts and Potions."
"Professor Snape is lenient with us in Defense Against the Dark Arts, it doesn't matter if I fail History of Magic, and the Care of Magical Creatures teacher seems very kind…" Pansy began to count on her fingers which courses were easier to pass.
"The old lady in Transfiguration is the strictest and never lets up, so I need to put in more effort. I listened very carefully in Charms this semester, so it shouldn't be a problem. And then there's Divination…" Pansy muttered to herself, as if after analyzing everything, she would be fearless about the exams.
"Divination?" Malfoy raised his eyebrows and said, "I thought you had given up on that subject."
"Well…" Pansy paused for a moment, as if thinking, and then whispered, "Actually, I think Professor Trelawney is quite interesting sometimes."
"Well then, it seems I'll have a little fortune teller to help me predict good and bad luck in the future," Malfoy said with a smile that wasn't quite a smile.
"You're the fortune teller! It's called prophecy! And it's based on something," Pansy retorted quickly, as if her sore spot had been touched.
"Alright, alright, Madam Pansy, the soon-to-be great seer, please forgive this crude, lowly, and ignorant person before you. Please, great prophet, guide this lost lamb," Malfoy said with a wink, using a flattering tone mixed with a little playfulness.
Pansy's face flushed red all at once.
"Okay, no more joking," Malfoy's expression straightened.
Then his tone turned serious: "Study hard, there will be time to teach you practical skills later. Passing Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration exam is not that easy."
"Okay," Pansy said with a drawn-out tone, and reluctantly began to bury herself in the large, difficult, and obscure books in front of her.
But just now, mentioning Divination, Pansy's mood was far from as light as her expression showed, but rather a bit heavy.
She still remembered the prophecy made by that crazy middle-aged woman, talking about the ominous signs on Malfoy's body, which was also a key reason why she insisted on taking Divination.
Pansy still wanted to hear more about him.
She herself could tell that sometimes the woman's crazy remarks couldn't be taken seriously, but there were times when she was stranger than usual. At that time, her eyes rolled, her tone was deep, and her voice seemed to be full of captivating magic. The only analogy Pansy could make was perhaps the song of the Sirens. Professor Trelawney's words at that moment, no matter how absurd, always had the power to convince.
"Stay away from that boy who came with you last time. His future is chaotic, faintly revealing a bloody light, disaster and ominousness," Professor Trelawney often warned Pansy like this, with clear and bright eyes, but every time Pansy asked, the teacher would return to that confused look, staring at Pansy with her eyes magnified several times by her glasses, and scratching the back of her head, asking confusedly: "Did I do something just now?"
But Pansy wouldn't tell Malfoy these things. She would rather that these were just her wishful thinking and the teacher's nonsense.
But out of a sense of unease about the future, there was also an invisible driving force that drove Pansy to continue listening to the professor's lectures.
"It's always better to be careful," Pansy said to herself in her heart.
"This is the retribution for you guys copying homework," Hermione said with a serious face, looking at the two boys in front of her. Crookshanks also climbed onto the sofa, waved his paw and stretched it to his mouth, yawning, as if echoing his master's words.
In the Gryffindor common room, the fireplace in the corner of the circular hall had been extinguished for a long time, because it was summer now. Above the fireplace hung a blanket embroidered with the Gryffindor lion, and scarlet soft armchairs were scattered in every corner, but no one was sitting on them.
Most students still thought that studying in the library had a better atmosphere, while the comfortable common room should be a breeding ground for depravity.
Harry and Ron looked at the books in front of them with bitter expressions. They chose to be here only for Hermione to tutor them.
The Time-Turner was confiscated before the exam, and many of the selected courses were cancelled, so the consequence was that Hermione was no longer so busy, and even had time to teach her two "unpromising" friends and make up for the mistakes they had made before.
"Ron! Tell me, what potion is shrivelfig an important component of?" Hermione was now holding her wand, heavily tapping the mahogany coffee table in front of Ron, looking extremely serious.
"I'm starting to suspect that you and Professor McGonagall are related," Ron muttered weakly, turning his head away. Then said, "Sorry, I forgot."
"Harry and I spent a lot of time helping you cut this kind of herb last time," Hermione sighed, looking at him helplessly, and then said as a reminder.
"Shrinking Potion!" Ron snapped his fingers and said, as if waking up from a dream. With the help of the scene memory, Ron immediately recalled it.
"Okay, then, please tell me, where was the best specimen of shrivelfig in the world discovered?" Hermione continued to ask, and Ron's voice immediately got stuck again.
"Northern Europe?" Ron asked tentatively.
"Well, I can only say that you guys are really far behind. It might be a luxury to even pass, not to mention Snape, who likes to target you two anyway," Hermione looked at Ron with sympathy, and then said the cruel reality without concealment, "Remember, it's Albania," Hermione added word by word.
And Harry and Ron could only taste the bitter fruit and do their best here.
Moreover, they found that Snape was not happy that he could teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but even more gloomy. He did not miss any opportunity to make things difficult for them at all times. As long as he saw Harry, a muscle next to his thin lips would twist unpleasantly, and he kept bending his fingers, as if he couldn't wait to strangle Harry's throat.
Time is fair and will not slow down its pace because some students have not prepared their coursework. It is so rational and ruthless.
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