Harry strode out of the headmaster's office, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, unable to hide the satisfaction on his face.
Now that the reality, the danger, and the power of the Dimensional Demon Gods had been confirmed, Dumbledore's attitude had changed completely.
Harry now had the privilege of entering and leaving the Restricted Section at will; no matter how dangerous the magic, it would be open to him.
On top of that, Dumbledore had decided to join forces with Harry to push forward reforms in the wizarding world, and the spark of that revolution would first be lit at Hogwarts.
In Hogwarts' future curriculum, from third year upward the proportion of practical combat classes would increase dramatically.
The venues for these practical lessons would no longer be confined to traditional classrooms inside the castle.
The mysterious depths of the Forbidden Forest, along with other areas teeming with unknown dangers, would all become training grounds for the students.
And Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape and other powerful teachers would personally accompany them to ensure every student's safety.
More importantly, Dumbledore would be working with him to research new magic. With this erudite White Dark Lord joining in, Harry's research progress was bound to vault ahead by leaps and bounds!
And with the Kamar-Taj magic system as a supplement, this already terrifyingly powerful White Dark Lord would only grow stronger in the future.
…
As November came in, the temperature plummeted and the weather turned bitterly cold.
The mountains surrounding Hogwarts were shrouded in heavy gloom. Snow lay thick on the peaks, and under the dim light of the sky they stretched away in a vast expanse of grey-white, like some austere ink-wash painting.
In the classroom, Harry sat on a somewhat worn wooden chair while the howling wind outside the window kept slipping into his ears and distracting him.
His quill paused, and he unconsciously stopped writing, slowly lifting his head. His gaze passed through the misted-over glass to the scene outside.
On the distant Quidditch pitch, Hagrid's hulking figure was especially eye-catching.
Wrapped up in a mole-fur overcoat, with rabbit-fur gloves and beaver-fur boots, he was out on the pitch defrosting the brooms.
The Quidditch season had begun. After several weeks of training, Harry would be playing the first match of his life on Saturday.
Although Quidditch had everyone's attention, Harry's focus wasn't really on that. He was paying far more attention to expanding his pool of borrowers and researching new spells.
Over these days, rumors about Harry had spread all through the magical world, drawing Squibs from far and wide to seek him out and ask for help in restoring their spellcasting ability.
Harry certainly wasn't about to turn away high-quality borrowers who came knocking on his door. He signed contracts with dozens of Squibs from all over the globe.
Most of these Squibs lived in the Muggle world, and more than a few of them occupied high positions, which greatly expanded Harry's influence.
After class, Harry, Hermione and Ron headed to the Great Hall for a meal, where they ran into the twins, faces alight with excitement.
The moment they saw the trio, the twins waved their arms and yelled, "Hey! Over here! Come on!"
Ron was always a bit resigned when it came to his two brothers and their prank-happy brains. He said wearily, "What did you two do this time? Give it up, I don't have the guts to keep anything from Mum."
The twins looked deeply wounded by their little brother's lack of faith. Fred stuck his lower lip out, putting on an aggrieved expression.
"Oh, my goodness! My dearest little brother, is the only thing you remember about us that we like pulling pranks? And here we are always thinking about taking you along to have some fun!"
The exaggerated tone made it sound like he'd suffered some terrible injustice.
"What else would it be, then…" Ron muttered under his breath.
George's eyes went wide and he flapped his hands in a hurry.
"No, no, no, Ron, you've really got the wrong idea this time. We honestly didn't pull any pranks today.
"You can't imagine it—something absolutely insane happened. Snape actually led a team himself and took us into the Forbidden Forest to gather potion ingredients!
"You know how many times we've tried to sneak into the Forbidden Forest, only to be stopped by Hagrid. Never thought we'd finally get our wish like this."
Hearing that, Hermione grew curious as well. "Do first-years have practical lessons too?"
Fred shook his head. "Seems like it's only third years and above. First and second year are staying the same for now."
"I see…" The little otter lowered her head.
She wanted to take practical classes too.
Seeing this, Harry nodded thoughtfully. Apparently letting Hermione fight the troll last time hadn't been nearly satisfying enough for her. He'd have to arrange more battles for her—bigger, more thrilling ones!
Fighting was great!
Friday passed quietly; everything was much the same as ever.
Aside from the way Snape's gaze toward Harry grew even colder as the Quidditch match approached, Harry didn't really notice any other changes.
When he got back to his dormitory that day, a familiar sensation rose in his mind. Harry knew he was about to travel again.
Early Saturday morning, the weather was bright and the biting cold had eased a lot—a perfect day for a match.
The hall was filled with the enticing smell of grilled sausages, and every young witch and wizard was bubbling with excitement, chattering away about the Quidditch game they were all looking forward to.
"Ah, open up, Harry—here, have some nice white bread."
"Thanks, Hermione." Harry opened his mouth, and a smooth, milky sweetness spread through his mouth as he bit down, mixing across his tongue.
The little witch's white bread really did taste good—just a bit on the small side.
Since Harry was about to play, all his friends were clustered around him.
"Eat a bit more, Harry. You need to keep your strength up, that way you'll last longer," Seamus said, sounding very experienced. "Seekers are always the ones the other side focuses on."
Harry turned away from the tomato sausage Seamus was pushing at him. Compared to a boy's sausage, he much preferred the soft, fragrant white bread from the girls.
And if it was from a pretty, adorable little witch like Hermione, all the better.
"Sorry, Seamus, I don't like sausages much. Maybe I'll have something else," Harry said, refusing him.
He took another bite of the white bread Hermione held out.
By eleven o'clock, it seemed as though the entire student body had made their way to the stands around the Quidditch pitch.
Many of them had brought Omnioculars so they could see what was happening in the air more clearly.
Ron, Hermione, Seamus and the others headed to the top row, joining Harry's other fans in waving flags and cheering for him.
Hermione used Transfiguration to conjure a huge banner with "Harry Must Win" written across it, then laid a sparkling starlight charm over it, making it stand out brilliantly in the crowd.
By this time, Harry had already changed into Gryffindor's bright red Quidditch robes. His tall, lean figure and sunny, handsome demeanor drew plenty of admiring glances from the young witches.
One of those drawn to him was Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor Quidditch beauty.
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