The arrival of the Easter holidays heralded the approach of summer.
It was the best time of year in the Scottish Highlands—clear, cloudless skies and warm, gentle sunlight.
The edges of the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest were dotted with vibrant wildflowers. Taking advantage of the holiday, many young wizards and witches ventured out of the castle, chasing and laughing until sunset, brandishing swords Transfigured from twigs and branches.
Hogwarts' Easter holiday was slightly longer than the Muggle one.
A normal Easter holiday lasted four days, from Good Friday—the Friday before Easter—until the following Monday. Hogwarts added an extra week, though students were not allowed to leave school grounds.
Worldwide, few wizards believed in Jesus, but the relentless pursuit of resurrection and immortality had been passed down from ancient wizards to the present. For them, Easter held a certain special significance in that regard.
On Saturday evening, the enchanted ceiling sparkled with starlight. The castle walls were hung with colorful streamers, and multicolored candles burned quietly.
At every meal, the House tables in the Great Hall were adorned with four-leaf clovers and chocolate eggs. The school seemed to relax, heavy assignments tossed to the back of everyone's minds.
There were Easter eggs on the High Table too. Melvin and several professors opened one each; chocolate shells with fillings that depended on luck.
Melvin and Professor Flitwick selected two similar-looking eggs. One yielded Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, the other Bertie Bott's Really Every Flavour Beans. They looked alike. Popping them into their mouths, they crunched through the candy coating.
One ate with relish; the other looked pained.
These were products from Honeydukes. Every Flavour Beans were still somewhat normal candies—roast beef, pie, and various fruit flavors. But the Really Every Flavour Beans were akin to prank items. Blood and bile were discontinued flavors; booger and earwax were classics; and upcoming releases included body odor and cat pee.
After witnessing Flitwick's tragedy, the other professors respectfully declined this year's eggs. Only Dumbledore chuckled, seemingly interested in whatever candy was inside.
The Great Hall was noisy, a mix of clattering cutlery and student whispers. Melvin occasionally turned to speak with the other professors.
In the eyes of the elective professors, Melvin was the most popular colleague, someone they could consult for teaching advice and discuss student assignments with. In the eyes of Professor McGonagall and the others, Melvin was already part of the core faculty, someone who could share the burden of non-teaching administrative duties.
Melvin generally responded friendly to discussions about teaching, offering suggestions from a Muggle perspective. But as for the Heads of House trying to rope him into extra work, Melvin pretended not to hear.
No way. He was doing enough overtime as it was.
"I'm heading back to my office."
Melvin dabbed his mouth with a napkin, murmured a greeting to the colleague beside him, and briskly walked out of the Great Hall.
As agreed, he had a remedial lesson for the young witch on Saturday night. There were two students in the remedial class. Although Harry had gone back to Godric's Hollow to pay respects to his parents, classes couldn't stop just because of that—it wouldn't be fair to Hermione.
Returning to his office, he didn't wait long before hearing a knock.
"Professor, I'm here for the lesson." After receiving permission, Hermione pushed open the door, closed it gently, and then walked in.
"Where did we leave off last time?"
"The fusion of the Shield Charm and the Bubble-Head Charm. You told me to practice more privately, Professor, but I'm still not proficient."
Hermione's fair brows knitted together. Despite being the top student in her year, she always worried about the professor's reproach. "When I cast the spell, I focus too much on the effect of the Shield Charm. I can't control it as lightly as the Bubble-Head Charm. I can't cover my whole body, and there are obvious traces..."
"Demonstrate it for me." Melvin poured a glass of pumpkin juice and placed it on the small low table.
"Protego..."
"It's still due to lack of proficiency. You need more practice."
Melvin watched her demonstration and casually assigned tasks: "We won't cover new material today. Just practice here in the office. I'll be replying to letters on the side. Ask me anytime if you run into problems."
He had to reply to the backlog of letters from the holiday tonight. Madam Bones consulting on policy details, Bagman asking about work arrangements for Quidditch sponsorship, and Crouch from the Department of International Magical Cooperation—preparations for the Goblet of Fire had already begun.
"Oh, okay, Professor." Hermione was obviously a bit disappointed. Suddenly seeing the water snake on the table, she blinked. "Professor, this snake..."
"Yurm."
"Yurm seems a bit off."
Melvin turned to look and waved his hand. "It's fine. It's shedding."
Hiss...
The Horned Serpent on the table writhed about.
This was a symptom of Yurm's shedding period. The outer scales wouldn't grow larger with the snake's body. For a Horned Serpent to continue growing, it had to shed its old scales and replace them with new ones.
Usually, young snakes shed every few weeks. Yurm was extremely special; its growth rate was slow. From hatching until now, this Easter holiday was its first shed.
According to Mr. Scamander's explanation, after successfully shedding, Yurm would undergo a growth spurt, increasing in size and correspondingly needing much more food.
"Hmm..."
Melvin sat back behind his desk, preparing to write letters, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yurm writhing and fell slightly silent.
That posture... it seemed determined not to stop until it tied itself into a dead knot.
But shouldn't a snake find a quiet corner to stay still and wait for the skin to shed bit by bit?
Melvin picked it up to observe closely. The little guy tilted its head to look back at him with round, black bean-like eyes. It didn't look uncomfortable; in fact, it seemed exceptionally excited.
Writhing wasn't to help shed skin; it seemed purely for fun.
The tip of its tail flicked up to rest on his wrist. Yurm had no intention of going into its snake nest.
Melvin patted the little snake's head, set it aside, and began replying to letters.
Having lived at Hogwarts for a long time, he was now used to using a Self-Writing Quill. With a slight thought, he could manipulate the quill to write with clear handwriting and neat spacing.
It could even correct grammar issues—magical artificial intelligence.
"..."
After dealing with letters from all parties, he just had to wait to send them out tomorrow morning.
Melvin glanced at the wall clock. Forty minutes had passed. Turning his head, he saw Yurm curled into a ball, scales flared, only its tail wagging faintly. It was knotted.
On the other side of the office, the young witch waved her wand over and over, practicing with full concentration, looking extremely well-behaved as she lowered her voice to chant spells.
Seemingly sensing his gaze, Hermione turned her head, her bright eyes staring at him. "Professor, am I disturbing you?"
She asked somewhat abruptly. Melvin was stunned for a moment, suddenly feeling a bit guilty.
"Don't you find this kind of remedial class boring? Thousands of Galleons in tuition, yet I've been dealing with letters and leaving the student aside to practice alone. I feel a bit irresponsible myself."
"You have your own things to be busy with, Professor. Besides, it's not boring. I keep all the questions I accumulate in mind, and when you're done, I can ask them all at once. My thoughts are more focused, and the effect might be better."
Hermione held her wand, her gaze unconsciously drifting to Yurm. "Professor, you don't lack a few thousand Galleons in tuition fees. Agreeing to tutor us is just a favor out of friendship."
"On Halloween night in first year, when I passed the courtyard garden, I saw you hiding by the fake rock sculpture wiping tears. I thought then, this is just a little girl, parents not around, ostracized by classmates, not even a roommate to talk to. What a poor little girl."
Melvin said with some emotion, "The little girl has grown up a lot."
"Back then, I was always self-righteous, constantly correcting others' mistakes. It really was annoying."
Hermione recalled her dark history and felt slightly embarrassed. "But later I figured it out. Everyone has things they care about. I can't arbitrarily interfere with others' thoughts. I can tell them the correct answer after getting permission, instead of pointing out their mistakes right away."
As Hermione spoke, it struck nine o'clock. The pendulum swung, creating a dull dong-dong sound.
Melvin raised an eyebrow. "Nine o'clock? You're not in a hurry to go back to the dormitory, are you? I'm going to extend the class temporarily."
"Extra tutoring?"
Hermione's eyes shone brightly as she watched the professor pick up the suitcase by the shelf. "We aren't leaving the school, are we?"
"Students aren't allowed to leave school during the Easter holidays. Tonight is special teaching, so of course, we need a special classroom." Melvin opened the door and looked back, signaling her to follow. "Let's go. We have to go to the eighth floor of the castle. It's a long climb."
A delighted smile blossomed on Hermione's face. Before leaving, she noticed the little snake tangled in a ball on the table. Unable to ignore its pitiful look, she hesitated for only two seconds before picking it up and chasing after the professor.
Ten minutes later, the two left the landing and turned right at the fork in the road. Melvin carried the black suitcase, and Hermione was cradling the little snake, fully focused on untying its knotted tail. Footsteps echoed in the corridor.
After walking a distance, a huge tapestry came into view. The edges were worn, revealing felt threads. Looking at the center of the tapestry, the image depicted a wizard and several trolls gathering in a woodland.
The trolls were wearing pink lace-trimmed tutus, with torn white socks on the ground, looking indignant.
The wizard sat by the bonfire, bruised and swollen, his face distorted, twitching occasionally from pain.
"Barnabas the Barmy..." Hermione recognized the person on the tapestry.
The content of the portrait on the tapestry was actually more like a fable. Starting at nine in the morning, Barnabas waved his wand, put tutus on the trolls, and forced them to stand on tiptoe, skirts fluttering.
The ridiculous dance instruction lasted until three in the afternoon. The trolls united while the wizard was distracted, snatched his wand and threw it away, then beat Barnabas up with clubs and fists.
Then came the evening. Night fell, cold mist shrouded the woodland, and the shivering trolls helped the wizard find his wand and built a bonfire. The two sides embraced on the haystack, sleeping until the sun rose.
"It's Barnabas. That adjective prefix was added by later wizards."
Melvin smiled and corrected, stopping to put down the suitcase. "Dumbledore thinks he counts as an educator, but I think his methods were problematic. if he learned Muggle concepts and used Pavlovian dog training methods—alternating rewards and punishment—maybe he could really teach trolls to dance ballet."
Hermione examined the wizard and trolls, then looked back at the professor's actions. "Is this the special classroom?"
"Opposite the tapestry."
Melvin paused briefly. "Now, grandly introducing to you: the Room of Requirement."
Watching the professor pace back and forth in front of the wall, Hermione didn't know what strange magical ritual this was. Changes occurred quietly. The magic of this castle from a thousand years ago was still at work. Ripples of light flowed over the brick wall as the gift left by the founders for teachers and students revealed itself. One of the countless secrets of this ancient castle opened up to the young witch.
The Room of Requirement opened its door to Hermione.
A brownish-wood door appeared quietly on the wall. Hermione looked up and saw that the door was unlocked.
"Requirement..." she murmured.
"It can't fulfill all wishes, but it's enough to turn parts of imagination into reality." Melvin pulled open the wooden door and stepped aside. "Ladies first."
Hermione walked into the room under the professor's guidance.
A black-gray fortress stood in the center of an isolated island, lit by faint yellow lights. The light couldn't penetrate the thick fog, and the sky was invisible. The air lingered with a slightly salty, fishy smell, and the sound of waves crashing against reefs could be faintly heard.
Cold wind wrapped in thick fog howled over the island. A transparent bubble membrane kept the chill out. Hermione followed closely beside Melvin, looking up occasionally.
The island seemed devoid of vegetation. Rocks and sand were exposed, presenting a lifeless gray. The weathered rocks had wave-like ripples, monotonously flat, and the thick fog further out swallowed vision.
Hermione was sometimes confused, unable to tell if there was a road ahead, but Melvin seemed very familiar with this place, his steps brisk, as leisurely as if on a hiking trip.
Before the lights atop the fortress were completely annihilated in the thick fog, they illuminated something within it—familiar figures seemed to be floating there.
Black cloaks, surrounded by white mist—a swarm of Dementors.
From the moment she stepped into this room and saw those figures, Hermione suddenly understood where this was. Her heart skipped two beats.
The isolated island in the North Sea, the wizard prison, Azkaban.
Hermione was involuntarily afraid. The atmosphere of this place made one panic, as if something terrible could rush out of the shadows and thick fog at any moment.
"Afraid of Dementors or Dark Wizard criminals?" Melvin asked. He was carrying the suitcase, which vibrated slightly; the things inside seemed impatient to come out for fresh air.
Hermione shook her head. "With the Professor here..."
"Even if you were alone, you wouldn't need to worry. This isn't the Azkaban in the North Sea, but a scene transformed by the Room of Requirement."
Melvin looked up at the gloomy sky. "Pace back and forth three times in the corridor opposite the tapestry, and the Room of Requirement will become what you want."
"Really... whatever you require?"
"The room is just a creation of Transfiguration and Alchemy. It can serve as a temporary bathroom, common room, workshop, or laboratory. Following Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, it cannot create food out of thin air, nor create life. Fake things cannot be taken out of the room," Melvin explained.
"Incredible..."
Hermione surveyed this world, her eyes somewhat glazed from sheer shock.