Chapter 149: Holiday

The exam ended, and the days before the holiday passed under brilliant sunlight.

To others, such bright weather was truly delightful, but Silven could not bring himself to feel happy. He actually preferred to see lightning and thunder, ideally followed by a storm.

The Animagus potion only completes its transformation during a storm. Before that, he had to recite the incantation toward his heart every morning and evening… Even though the second heartbeat was now clear as if beating right beside his ear, this step had to be maintained.

Because once interrupted, the second heartbeat might vanish instantly, forcing him to start over entirely.

And according to Professor McGonagall, experiencing the second heartbeat was far more difficult than the first; she had repeatedly warned Silven that this process must not be interrupted unless absolutely necessary.

On the day he encountered the Basilisk, Silven had missed a sunset, planning to return to his dormitory later, only to run into the Basilisk right after entering the castle.

Fortunately, that mistake had only made the second heartbeat fainter, not erased it completely.

Silven had also considered whether the Room of Requirement could simulate stormy weather, and he had tried it.

The Room of Requirement had indeed succeeded—when Silven opened the door, he stepped into a forest filled with lightning and thunder.

But Silven quickly realized that the storm simulated by the Room of Requirement was entirely magical; the difference between magical storms and natural weather was like comparing Vernon Dursley to Snape in a potion-brewing contest.

The gap was too vast—they were two entirely unequal things.

So Silven could only wait.

…

Soon, the grades were released.

Silven was surprised to find his results were quite good—he had three O's… Transfiguration, Potions, and Herbology.

The rest—Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and History of Magic—were all E's.

This ranking was among the top in Gryffindor, especially in Potions.

"Incredible…" Ron stared wide-eyed at Silven's grade sheet, "You're probably the second Gryffindor ever to get an O from Snape."

The first was Hermione—last year, her Potions grade was an O, meaning Snape found no flaw in her potion.

"He gave me a P (Poor)," Ron held his grade sheet up to the window, examining it again and again. "He's definitely targeting me. I swear my steps were correct—I should've gotten at least an A."

"Are you sure your steps were correct?" Hermione asked.

She and Ron had been in the same exam room, and after the test, she had glanced at Ron's cauldron by instinct.

How to describe it? It was like digging up a large clump of muddy soil after rain, then squeezing a tube of glue into it—the color and consistency were bizarre, and it emitted a foul, burnt odor.

Their Forgetfulness Potion should have been pearly white, with faint blue specks shimmering inside.

So Snape's grade for him was actually quite fair.

But Ron didn't think so—he insisted Snape was retaliating, and Harry agreed.

Harry's Potions grade was even worse than Ron's—a D (Dreadful), barely better than Neville's T (Troll).

Yet this minor incident didn't dampen everyone's spirits much.

At the evening feast, Gryffindor won the House Cup again, leading Slytherin by nearly three hundred points.

Professor McGonagall, rarely smiling, chatted with Snape across Dumbledore.

But Snape looked anything but pleased—he kept his face stiff, nodding occasionally in a perfunctory way.

He probably couldn't be happy—the Basilisk's eyes were gone, its heart devoured by Fluffy, only one fang remained, and even that was broken off at the tip.

Now Slytherin had lost the House Cup too—how could Snape possibly be happy? … Just sitting here without leaving early was already a miracle.

The day after the feast, school officially went on holiday. As usual, after receiving the notice prohibiting magic use during break, students boarded the Hogwarts Express to return home.

Silven met Professor McGonagall at the Hogsmeade platform.

"I asked a few friends for their notes on their Animagus transformations—perhaps they'll help you."

She handed Silven a thick notebook. "Also, don't slack off on your daily Transfiguration practice—maintaining proficiency is crucial."

"But Professor, we're forbidden to use magic during the holiday." Silven said.

"Of course I know that," Professor McGonagall replied. "But you live in Diagon Alley, don't you?"

Silven could hardly believe what he'd heard—Professor McGonagall, always fair and rule-bound, was hinting he could break the rules?

Was this really Professor McGonagall, or someone using Polyjuice Potion?

"Never forget to recite the incantation at sunrise and sunset."

Professor McGonagall, as if unaware of Silven's expression, reminded him again: "If a storm occurs during the holiday, I'll send an owl to inform you—when that happens, if nothing urgent keeps you, come to Hogwarts as soon as possible."

"Oh, you can use the fireplace—I'll open the Hogwarts Floo Network in advance… in my office."

Professor McGonagall seemed to have other matters, and left in a hurry after speaking.

Silven boarded the train.

Harry and the others had already claimed a compartment; they were playing Exploding Snap.

Silven didn't join—not because he wasn't interested, but because he didn't trust Fred and George.

The deck they were using had been provided by them, and the two sat nearby, watching with unhidden anticipation.

Knowing Fred and George as he did, Silven was certain they had tampered with the cards.

Sure enough, when Ron flipped his third card, he revealed two mismatched faces.

"Oh, bad luck," he sighed, closing his eyes to brace for the explosion.

"Boom!"

Silven had never imagined an Exploding Snap card could produce the effect of an Explosive Charm—Ron was stunned, his red hair standing straight up like a hedgehog, his face and body covered in soot.

"Hah!"

"It worked!"

Fred and George high-fived.

"Did you do this?" Ron demanded angrily.

"Of course…" Fred blurted out, "Of course we did."

"It's obvious," George said. "Traditional Exploding Snap is too tame—it's supposed to be punishment, but it does nothing."

"So we improved it a little on the spot," Fred said.

"You call this 'improved it a little'?" Ron pointed at his own hair. "I can already smell something burning."

Fred and George pretended not to see Ron, who was trying his best to be angry, and only raised their eyebrows at Harry.

"So, after seeing the brand-new Exploding Card effect, doesn't it feel more exciting to play?"

Harry nodded unconsciously.

Before, he actually didn't care about the result of flipping the card — right or wrong didn't matter, as long as he had fun.

But now, seeing what Ron looked like, a sudden competitive urge welled up inside him.

Playing again with this kind of mood, it felt completely different from before.

……

(End of chapter)