Chapter 565 Just Close Your Eyes and Lie Down

Just as Dumbledore announced the end of the banquet, there was a sound of tables, chairs and benches clashing in the auditorium. Neville stood up in panic and shouted with a slightly trembling voice:

"First-year students, come this way!"

A group of freshmen walked timidly from the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Their young faces shrank back as much as possible, not daring to show their faces, but they blinked their bright eyes and looked at them curiously. This is a somewhat shy prefect.

Neville's throat was tight. He was sure that he was not so nervous when he was first sorted into Gryffindor: "Follow... follow me, and don't get into the ranks of other houses."

Fortunately, as soon as she led the freshmen out of the auditorium, Parvati took over the guidance task with a smile and a calm expression:

"The location just now is the auditorium. We eat here, receive packages and letters from owls here, and participate in special events held by the school. In short, except for the common room, this will be the most beautiful time you will spend in the school. A long time place..."

"Our prefect looks very reliable."

Loren was still holding an egg tart in his hand, watching the freshmen lining up in a row and walking out of the door neatly, and said to Hermione with emotion.

"Neville has always been reliable."

"Oh! You mean Parvati is unreliable?"

"..."

Listening to the two people muttering useless wisecracks, Harry poked Ron with his arm and said in a voice that only four people could hear: "I want to talk to Dumbledore about dreams. Go together?"

"I'm going!" Ron raised his hand in response.

"Loren, Hermione, where are you?"

"Forget it, we plan to go back early and make the bed."

"Huh?" Ron looked at them in shock.

"See you later."

Harry didn't say much. He nodded and pulled Ron towards the outside of the auditorium. He squeezed through the crowd and hurried up the marble stairs, leaving behind many whispers and pointing fingers, and soon disappeared around the corner of the stairs. at.

"Harry looks a little unhappy..." Hermione looked away and smiled helplessly.

"No one would be happy to be looked at like that during the whole dinner." Loren shook his head. "When the Daily Prophet was instructed by the Ministry of Magic to slander Dumbledore, it also brought him along. , saying that he cannot distinguish between reality and fantasy, saying that he is a reckless fool who makes up lies full of loopholes just for the sake of publicity..."

Hermione sighed softly: "Parvati and Lavender were fine before the holiday, but now they are beginning to doubt Harry. Just now, I heard them discussing whether Dumbledore had any signs of Alzheimer's disease. , I really don’t know what they think?”

Loren swallowed the last bite of the egg tart and clapped his hands noncommittally: "Let's go back and see what the roommates think."

The Gryffindor common room looked as pleasant as ever, a circular room in the tower filled with armchairs and old tables with worn fabric and rickety and creaking legs. It's very comfortable to sit on, soft and loose.

A fire was crackling in the fireplace, and several people were squatting there chatting and stretching their hands leisurely to warm themselves up.

On the other side of the room, Fred and George were pinning something on the bulletin board. When they saw Hermione, they immediately straightened their backs to cover up the notice behind them, and happily waved good night to them.

Loren returned to the dormitory and found that Seamus and Neville had returned and were dragging Dean from the dormitory next door to put posters and photos on the wall next to the bed.

"My mother didn't want me to come back. Have you read the articles in the Daily Prophet..." Seamus concentrated on adjusting the poster of the Kestrel Quidditch team. "She also learned from the wizard There were some rumors in the tavern, such as that he was the one responsible for the murder of Crouch and his son, and those people said that he did have that strength. "

"Who? Dumbledore? What a bad joke!"

Dean was about to continue teasing a few words, but turned around and saw Loren pushing the door open and saying to him with a smile: "Hey, Loren! How are you doing during the summer vacation?"

"It's not bad, it's not bad. I feel like the vacation is over before it even begins."

"I think so too!" Dean agreed deeply, shaking his head and sighing, "It seems like the year-end party was just yesterday, but it turns out tonight is the branch party, ugh..."

Loren stood by the bed, took out the sheets and quilts prepared at home, and replied while making the bed: "That's not the case. After all, every page of the Daily Prophet is marked with dates, which proves that the holidays do end day by day."

Hearing this, Seamus' ears perked up and he looked at him with wide eyes in surprise: "Loren, are you also following the Daily Prophet?"

"Check it out occasionally."

"What do you think of the news above?"

Seamus considered the words and lowered his voice and asked, "Was Harry really poisoned by the Acromantula, seduced by Xinkpunk, and finally induced by a Boggart to hallucinate?"

"Didn't you already ask Harry?"

"He...he said there is no answer to this question, or the real question is whether I believe the Ministry of Magic or Dumbledore..."

Seamus avoided his gaze and scratched his head, "Of course I believe Dumbledore. He was very awake tonight and didn't look like an old fool at all...well...well, mainly my mother, she heard people say A lot of gossip.”

"Isn't this very clear?" Loren took out the autumn pajamas and shook them. "If you still don't have an answer in your heart, then speculate on the consequences of different choices."

"Huh?"

"Listen to the news released by the Ministry of Magic, that is, world peace, there is no return, the Dark Lord lurking in the dark, you should do what you should do. If the Ministry of Magic is wrong, when the danger comes, bury your head in the sand and live a normal life. Just close your eyes and lie on the ground."

"What...what do you mean?" Seamus looked confused.

Neville, who had been silently making the bed, raised his head and said in a faint tone: "If you are hit by the Death Eater's killing curse, you can close your eyes and lie down peacefully."

"If you believe Dumbledore, it will be troublesome. You must be prepared to face the war. You must store sufficient emergency food and potions, protect the surroundings of the house, try to master the apparition, and it is best to prepare the door key or fireplace for retreat and transfer at any time. If Dumbledore is wrong, your emergency work will be in vain, and it will take a long time to eat up the stored food..."

"..."

Seamus lowered his head silently.

He finally understood the feelings of the Slytherin Quidditch players in the past few years. There were no vulgar words or insulting words, but those words were like sharp ice chips, constantly piercing the tenderest part of the heart, cold and painful.

Dean beside him blinked and quietly moved two steps to the side.