One Thousand and One Nights
Harry found it very difficult to adjust during the first few days of school.
He had to control himself from constantly trying to reply to Queenie's texts, which required him to stop checking his phone. But without his phone, he couldn't read Queenie's daily ramblings—he liked reading them, as if he and Queenie were never apart.
However, his discomfort was broken a few days later by the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, who, in his opinion, was a hundred times more annoying than Snape.
The disapproving looks, Umbridge's corporal punishment, the ridiculous disciplinary orders... all of these things made Harry furious. If it weren't for Queenie's message and Hermione and Ron's company, he would have exploded.
“To be honest, your emotions are much more stable than before, which I think might just be a sign that your brain surgery has made progress,” Hermione analyzed rationally.
"..." Harry guessed no. At the beginning of the semester, he did try to clear his mind every night before going to bed, attempting to capture a glimpse of what it meant to master Occlumency. But ever since he was kept after school by Umbridge, the thing he did most every night before going to bed was to curse Umbridge.
Harry felt a little guilty. "Uh, actually—"
Hermione waved her hand. "It's good that you're practicing Occlumency properly, but the most important thing right now is what Bigfoot just said." She frowned unconsciously. "Voldemort could appear at any time. We need to learn to protect ourselves. Since Umbridge isn't willing to teach us properly, we'll find someone who is."
It was late at night, and the Gryffindor common room was empty except for the three of them. They spoke with Sirius through the two-way mirror, gaining a better understanding of the current situation in the wizarding world—although the other adults didn't want these children involved.
Harry went along with her words: "Professor McGonagall? I think she must have disliked Umbridge for a long time too."
“Or Professor Flitwick?” Ron joined the discussion. “I heard he was a dueling champion when he was young, so he can definitely teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“Or—” Hermione stared at Harry, “someone who has faced Voldemort several times and repelled him, someone with real experience in defense against the dark arts.”
Harry spoke hesitantly, as if facing a patient and persuasive teacher, "Professor Dumbledore? But I'm afraid he doesn't have time. Remember? He wouldn't even say a word to me." By the end, Harry's tone had unconsciously become tinged with grievance.
In the past, Hermione would have definitely taken the opportunity to comfort him, as she was always very perceptive of her friends' emotions. But this time, she didn't even raise an eyebrow. "Alright, Harry, use your lake-green eyes on Queenie."
"..." Harry's face turned red. "I didn't!"
"That's not important. What's important is that I'm talking about you."
"I know you're talking about me!" Ha used his hair to cover his embarrassment. Incidentally, his new hairstyle earned him both skepticism and admiring glances from the girls. "I should have known better than to tell you so much..." Why couldn't he resist telling them about Queenie's fondness for his eyes? So they could make fun of him?
“I mean, you should be our teacher!” Hermione’s voice snapped.
"Huh? Me?" Harry was stunned. He instinctively refused, "I can't!"
“Why not?” Hermione began to list his achievements one by one. “Right after he was born—okay, let’s not talk about that—in your first year you repelled Voldemort who was possessing Quirrell, and in your second year you killed the Basilisk—”
"Back in third year, your Patronus Charm could repel hundreds of Dementors in one go!" Ron picked up where Hermione left off. "It's a shame I didn't see it with my own eyes; that must have been awesome!"
Hermione gave him an approving look. "Ron's right, last year you even—"
“Wait, that was all with your help!” Harry interrupted her. “And you know, I was just lucky!”
"Then Ron and I will help you this time as well. How do you know your luck won't be good this time?"
Ron raised his hand. “Hey buddy, I’ve never liked studying, but think about it—oh, I really don’t want to say this—we have our OWLs exams at the end of the year! What are we going to use to pass Defense Against the Dark Arts? Memorize the textbook or recite it from memory? Uh, sorry Hermione, I’m not saying the textbook is bad, but it’s obviously not suitable for this year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Hermione glanced at him. “Alright, Harry, stop looking back. If you ask me, one Patronus Charm is enough for everyone to learn for a long time—and if anyone wants to join us, I’m sure there will be.”
"Hermione is right. Many people can't even use the Disarming Charm properly, like Neville."
"Is that how you got a girlfriend?"
"..."
Let's do it.
As it turns out, Lady Luck was on their side again this time.
On Hogsmeade Day, they held a gathering at the Hog's Head pub, and nearly thirty students eventually participated in the DA. They signed the list, and the next step was to find a suitable place to practice.
Harry spent the rest of his time in the condiment and joke shop in a good mood, hoping he might find something suitable for Queenie.
With that in mind, Harry actually found a perfume, or more accurately, a perfume laced with an aphrodisiac.
—"One Thousand and One Nights"
"A perfume with a touch of aphrodisiac, when sprayed on the body, will make both yourself and others smell your favorite scent at the same time. A perfume that can never go wrong."
— "P.S.: The concentration of the love potion is not enough to create love; it will only make people feel happy. Please use it with confidence."
Harry reached out and took a small bottle; the pink liquid faintly shimmered with the luster of mother-of-pearl.
Love is beautiful, isn't it?
Harry was startled. "Hermione!"
“Oh, sorry, I meant you never used to look at these things.” She apologized half-heartedly, quickly glancing at the perfume description. “Buying it for Q? It’s certainly a nice gift.” Hermione picked up a bottle as well, curious about what she would smell like.
The Weasley twins suddenly appeared from around the corner of the shelf.
"Look what we've seen, Harry, trying to boost your charm?"
"I guess it's a gift, Qiu Zhang?"
"Impossible, Harry didn't even glance at her at the Hog's Head."
"Maybe it's because he's shy."
"One Xike?"
"Let's gamble."
The last one to speak reached out and put his arm around Harry. "Reveal the answer. I'm sure I just heard Cho's name. Tell me I bet right."
When did he mention autumn—oh, the pronunciation of Q and autumn is a bit similar.
Speaking of Qiu, he needed to find time to meet her. It had nothing to do with their past relationship; he thought he needed to explain Cedric's death to Qiu. As for now…
Harry blinked. "Well, I'll use it myself." He could only admit that; he couldn't reveal Queenie's existence too much.
One of the twins beamed with joy, while the other disappointedly pulled out a Xico.
"I'll win it back sooner or later."
"Okay, I'll be waiting."
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