Harry Potter: Days Mixed in Hogwarts

Loren sat by the stove that night, flipping through the two books he had acquired earlier that day. Meanwhile, Grandpa Bates was packing his belongings.

A Comprehensive Guide to Hieroglyphs wasn't just a dense, convoluted reference on symbols. In this book, "hieroglyphs" seemed to specifically refer to runes, as a significant portion of it was dedicated to discussing Norse runes.

The first half of the book covered various aspects of alchemy, though to Loren, most of it seemed like baseless fantasy—talks of using dragon blood, magical creature materials, and even plants with names he had never heard of in either of his lifetimes.

The book also detailed distinctions in alchemical processes based on whether the moon was full or waning, whether a storm had thunder or was simply heavy rain.

So, this was British superstition? Loren found it amusing to read as a collection of strange tales.

The latter half of the book was even more interesting—it was an autobiographical account by someone named Nicolas Flamel.

He described being born in 14th-century Paris and initially working as a scribe, copying books, letters, and wills for various noble figures. Occasionally, he came across alchemical writings and took an interest in the subject.

Then, one day, his ordinary life took a dramatic turn. A man in a black cloak appeared in his dreams, telling him he would soon receive a mysterious book. He was to study it diligently, for it would grant him extraordinary power and knowledge.

That dream came true.

The book stated:

"I acquired an ancient and enormous book for two Florins. Unlike other books made of paper or parchment, this one was crafted from the smooth bark of young trees. Its cover was wrapped tightly in brass, inscribed with words or strange symbols... It consisted of three sections, each containing seven pages, plus a front cover. The seventh page of each section had no text, but on the first section's seventh page, there was an illustration of a wand being devoured by a giant serpent."

At this point, Loren picked up the other book and examined it closely.

This had to be The Book of Abraham. The contents did indeed seem to be embossed with some kind of metal press before being inked. The script was completely foreign to Loren—he had never seen such writing before.

The entire book contained 21 pages, with strange illustrations on every seventh page.

On the seventh page, there was an ancient-looking staff entwined by two snakes, one of which was devouring the other.

The book was clearly old—the pages had yellowed, and the illustrations were drawn in simple, colorless lines, lacking detail. However, when Loren looked at the image, he could see a vivid, colored version in his mind.

The staff was a deep, ancient black, and the two snakes had white speckled patterns. He could even feel the texture of their scales—rough, with a matte finish.

Loren chalked it up to sheer boredom and an overactive imagination, fueled by years of watching fantasy shows in his past life.

On the fourteenth page, the second seventh-page illustration depicted a crucifix, but instead of Jesus, a snake was nailed to it.

Loren examined the image carefully. This snake looked different from the previous one—the one on the cross had two small horns on its head.

The twenty-first page, the last seventh-page illustration, showed a desert with multiple clear springs emerging from the ground. Dozens of snakes slithered out from these springs.

What fascinated Loren most about this image wasn't the snakes, but the water. In his mind, the springs weren't just static illustrations—he could practically see the water bubbling up and feel its sweetness and coolness.

Other than these pages, the fourth and fifth pages contained smaller illustrations, but they were too tiny for Loren to visualize anything significant.

According to Nicolas Flamel's writings in A Comprehensive Guide to Hieroglyphs, these minor illustrations weren't important. He dismissed them as either storytelling elements or common mythological references, stating that they had nothing to do with alchemy.

Past this point, Flamel's autobiography became increasingly incoherent—words were misspelled, grammar became erratic, and some sections devolved into complete nonsense.

Further along, the book contained travelogues—Flamel had apparently traveled all over the world, documenting customs and traditions from different places. Some sections even included what appeared to be gibberish. Despite this, Loren found these parts of the book quite entertaining.

Meanwhile, Grandpa Bates finished packing his bundle and took a glance at the sky through the small window.

Even though it was snowing, the clouds were thin, revealing a low-hanging crescent moon.

Bates shut the window tightly and wedged it closed with a wooden rod. "Loren, listen carefully. I'm heading into the mountains tomorrow. You stay home like you always do, understand?"

This happened every month, and Loren had never gotten any real answers from him. "Got it, I know."

What Grandpa Bates might not have realized was that he was no longer young—the past two winters had been particularly hard on him. Every time he returned from the mountains, he was weak and exhausted, as if he had barely survived a severe illness.

Sometimes, Loren wondered if the rumors from the townspeople were true—that Bates was making deals with the devil in the mountains.

But after living with him for years, Loren had never seen anything particularly strange about him. Sure, the old man was a bit reclusive, but deep down, he was just a stubborn, slightly stronger-than-average old farmer.

No matter what, Loren had made up his mind—tomorrow, he would secretly follow Grandpa Bates into the mountains and uncover the truth.

The next morning, after breakfast, Grandpa Bates grabbed his packed bundle and wooden staff, then set off up the mountain.

Loren didn't rush after him right away. The winter terrain was difficult even without deep snow.

Instead, he took his time—feeding the sheep, stocking the pen with enough hay and water for several days, and setting up a simple timed feeder using a wooden lever system and a dripping glass bottle. The idea was that the slowly dripping water would eventually tip the hay from the rafters, ensuring the sheep didn't eat all their food too quickly.

Once everything was prepared, Loren packed several days' worth of food into his bundle—coarse bread, cheese, smoked lamb, a small knife, a windproof lighter, and a sturdy tarp.

After some thought, he also stuffed in the fur blanket from the strange bookseller.

By the time he locked up the house, it was already well past noon. He followed the footprints in the snow, tracking Grandpa Bates through the bent grass and broken twigs along the way.

The forest was dusted in white, the branches heavy under the snow. Occasionally, flakes drifted down, and the wind cut across Loren's exposed skin like tiny knives.

He tried his best to protect himself with his hat, gloves, and scarf, but the wind still crept in through every gap in his clothing, piercing into his very bones.

After walking for a while, Loren took out the fur blanket and wrapped himself in it, layering the tarp on top like a cloak.

It worked perfectly—the wind that had been seeping through his clothes was completely blocked, and the fur radiated warmth, like sitting by a stove.

This had to be polar bear fur or something, Loren thought.

In less than an hour, he followed the trail of footprints from the forest to an open area where a massive boulder stood against a small mountain ridge.

The footprints led directly to the boulder, but instead of continuing, they scattered in random directions before disappearing completely.

Loren didn't believe for a second that Bates had turned into a rock spirit.

Near the boulder, a few wooden stakes and poles had been set up as a makeshift lever system. Clearly, Grandpa Bates hadn't moved the boulder with brute strength—there had to be a hidden entrance behind it.

After circling the area a few times, Loren cleared a small, sheltered space behind the rock and set up a temporary hideout using branches and his tarp.

He wanted to listen for any sounds coming from inside the cave.

Wrapped in the fur blanket, he felt no cold at all, so he decided not to start a fire—this thing was warmer than a polar bear's coat.

After eating some food, Loren sat quietly, waiting for nightfall…