Chương 183: Chapter 183: Full Moon of the Harvest Festival
It was said that within the walls of Hogwarts Castle, there was never a topic that remained eternal.
The minds of the young witches and wizards were as restless as wild Golden Snitches, and you could never predict where their thoughts would appear next.
As October rolled in, the atmosphere in the castle began to stabilize. The previous stormy events seemed to have faded into obscurity under the wash of time.
Though it had only been a month since the school year started, many students felt like they had experienced an entire year's worth of events. Perhaps more had happened in that single month than in an entire year combined.
The first week of the new term saw a heated exchange of words in the Daily Prophet. Just as things calmed down, a novel titled The Hidden Story made its grand debut.
To everyone's surprise, the author of this novel was none other than the infamous Eno Sweenburn, who had made headlines just a week prior. Whether out of a desire to follow trends or a form of fandom, many people rushed to buy his book.
After all, having a novel written by a classmate was an interesting novelty, whether for autographs or for conversation.
Though many purchased it on a whim, some genuinely read it. Over time, more and more people were captivated by the stories and moved by the characters within.
Among the tales, *The Youth in the Back Alley of Hendon Myre* garnered the most attention and discussion. The protagonist, Azra, with his pure heart as clear as the sky, perfectly illustrated what love and fidelity truly meant.
In the wake of the story's popularity, George and Fred Weasley seized the opportunity to launch a themed product: straw rings.
The moment they hit the shelves, the rings quickly became a craze within the castle. Even Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley began to stock them, as the readers extended beyond the students of Hogwarts.
You had to admire the Weasley twins' ability to learn and create. Though the rings were made of woven straw, they were essentially alchemical items.
When worn, the rings would emit a faint glow when the wearers were close to each other. If the distance was close enough, the light from both rings would intertwine.
Of course, for an additional sickle, you could customize the color and form of the glow. For two more sickles, you could even personalize the intertwining pattern.
---
In the Slytherin dormitory, Ino sat quietly at his desk, in front of which lay twenty straw rings.
This was the second batch for the day. Gazing at the finely crafted rings, he could only wave his wand, causing them to float and fly into the storage cabinet in his room.
The cabinet already housed hundreds of rings. In each other's company, these straw rings were not lonely at all.
After finishing this task, Ino glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nine o'clock in the evening, half an hour before curfew.
This was the time he had been waiting for, as the moon was at its fullest during this period.
With this thought, he stood up and walked out of the dormitory, his figure gradually fading with each step until it vanished completely.
This was a new magic he had developed by studying the ancient runes for 'concealment' and combining them with the Disillusionment Charm, resulting in a unique form of invisibility.
This new Disillusionment Charm abandoned the previous optical invisibility, achieving an effect akin to that of an Invisibility Cloak.
---
By the Black Lake, an empty patch of grass gradually revealed a figure, along with three clay pots similar to those used in Herbology class.
The origin of the Harvest Festival is untraceable, but one of the most credible theories dates it back to the fifth century.
Like its origin, the timing of the Harvest Festival is also unfixed, as it follows the changing 'Harvest Moon,' which occurs after the nearest full moon at the end of September.
After days of waiting, a full moon had finally arrived.
Like a piece of deep blue satin, the night sky held a bright full moon, its faint silver glow gently spreading like a soft veil.
Ino sat on the ground, with three clay pots containing magical beans before him.
He initially didn't plan to come, as he had never heard of plants needing moonlight. However, today's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, with Snape's lecture on werewolves, had reminded him that many things in the magical world couldn't be judged by common sense.
Under the high-hanging full moon by the lake, its light grew increasingly bright as it ascended.
Suddenly, Ino lowered his head to gaze at the clay pots instead of the bright moon.
He felt a sense of joy emanating from them. It was hard to imagine that the seemingly empty pots, apart from the soil, could exude such emotion.
Yet it was true—a sense of harvest joy arose, like standing in a sunlit autumn field, gazing at golden waves of wheat and plump, mature ears of grain, filling one with joy at the sight.
This represented a harvest.
After a year of hard work, this was the moment people had been waiting for.
Despite being by the Black Lake, Ino saw a different scene reflected on the calm water: joyful farmers bustling through golden fields, their sickles flashing as they reaped, accompanied by the crisp sound of cutting grain.
Outside the field, children in simple clothes joined the harvest, picking up fallen grains with their small hands. With every find, laughter and cheers erupted.
If fire represented hope and salvation, then harvest was sweat and joy.
Harvest was closer to life; its joy was the most primitive and innate expression of human emotion.
This joy rose from the clay pots, growing stronger.
Joy indeed seemed to spread. The joy of harvest spread along the lakeside, carried by the breeze, eventually enveloping the entire castle, and then extending towards the Forbidden Forest.
At this moment, all intelligent beings in the castle—the young witches and wizards, house-elves in the kitchens, centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, and merpeople in the Black Lake—felt this faint joy.
On the eighth floor of the castle, Dumbledore stood by the window, gazing towards the Black Lake.
Though silent, a relieved smile hung on his face.
It felt like an elderly man, carrying heavy grains, suddenly having someone help him bear the burden.
Meanwhile, by the Black Lake, Ino was closely experiencing this harvest joy, enveloped in the joyous emotion. At that moment, he no longer cared if the magical beans were sprouting.
Feeling a sudden inspiration, like having a sip of Felix Felicis, he instinctively drew his wand. The white Magic Wand shone brilliantly in the moonlight.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Despite being immersed in the harvest joy, his tone carried a calm certainty, rather than excitement.
The surrounding emotions seemed to find their anchor, merging, gathering, and finally bursting from the tip of his wand.
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực