bacchusnovels Chapter 571 Ginny's Drink
Chapter 571 Ginny's Drink
Chapter 567 Ginny's Drink
"Harry, I—I can't take it anymore! I don't...miss her—"
What the heck?
Harry was a little confused about what Ron was talking about.
"I like Lavender Brown."
Ron's explanation surprised Harry.
He really didn't understand this—love was something that had never been related to him at all.
It's normal for Ron to like Lavender.
It can be traced back to that year's Christmas ball.
"So, what do you want me to do to help you?"
Harry thought for a moment and then suddenly made a suggestion.
"How about I ask Hermione for you—she and Lavender are roommates, maybe—?"
Ron's eyes lit up immediately, and he nodded quickly.
"well----"
Hermione was nowhere to be found, but Ginny appeared out of nowhere.
"You two seem a bit out of sorts. What happened?"
'
Harry shook his head and pointed at Ron.
"It wasn't me, it was Ron."
Ginny looked at Ron with some confusion.
"What's wrong?"
Looking at Ginny, Ron managed to squeeze out a few words through gritted teeth.
"I like Lavender Brown—Ginny, do you know what to do?"
Ginny paused for a moment, then looked delighted.
Even though Harry didn't know where this joy came from.
"If you like her, just tell her—I heard from someone that Lavender seems to like you too."
"R-really?"
Ron grasped at the last straw like a drowning man. With that, he flipped himself off the sofa.
"I'll go right now."
Is falling in love really such a simple thing?
Harry didn't know. The only thing he knew was—
The next day, Ron and Lavender were together.
It was unexpected, but not surprising.
The way the two of them were being affectionate is typical of most couples in the throes of new love.
It is even more than that.
He was somewhat envious of it.
Since Ron already had some feelings for Lavender, the effects of the love potion weren't very sudden.
Moreover, aphrodisiacs are effective for couples who are already in love with each other.
The effect is far from significant; it's more like a catalyst or a driving force.
It's just that nobody understands this.
How long can this relationship last?
Ginny didn't know either.
Compared to Harry, she knew much more and knew that her plan was about to begin.
"This drink looks very well mixed."
Ginny's muttering caught Hermione's attention.
Hermione turned her head and began to examine the drinks Ginny had made.
How so?
This is a very strange drink.
The glass contained a subtle blue-green hue.
Like lake water reflecting the colors of the aurora, the cup's surface also shimmers with a faint silver light.
A few thin, cicada-wing-like leaves floated in the drink.
I don't know if it's just for decoration or if it's actually edible.
"What is this?" Hermione frowned, both puzzled and wary.
"Um----
Ginny raised her eyebrows and said with considerable pride.
"I mixed butterbeer, flambéed whiskey, and a little bit of sparkling fruit juice and black tea together."
"Then"
"And then what?"
"I added another drop of moonflower dew."
""
"Oh my god!"
Hermione nearly jumped up when she heard that.
"You actually added moonflower nectar to a drink? Isn't that something only used in potions?"
"Adding just one drop won't cause any danger."
Ginny pursed her lips and said casually.
"As long as it's not added in large quantities, it's merely a garnish at best—don't you think this tea-infused liquor looks beautiful right now?"
Hermione looked at the drink hesitantly, then nodded.
It's hard to convince myself that it really is beautiful.
"So, you're going to give this drink to Professor Phillips?"
Why not?
"I'll take it over for you."
Hermione was secretly observing Ginny's expression as she spoke, and the latter looked very calm.
"Okay, thank you for your help."
Does this mean there's nothing wrong with this drink?
Or—has something been added?
After thinking about it, Hermione confirmed it again.
"This drink looks very special. May I pour myself a sip and try it?"
"certainly."
Ginny remained composed.
Hermione was so calm that she thought her deduction was completely wrong.
She was so open about it that she almost felt ashamed of her long-standing suspicions about Ginny.
Even so—
Hermione cautiously took out a clean cup.
I carefully poured the drink Ginny made into a glass and took a small sip.
It tastes great.
It tastes surprisingly good.
I originally thought that with so many ingredients piled together like a hodgepodge, it probably wouldn't taste very good.
But the result was exactly the opposite.
It's very sweet and smooth on the palate, with a subtle tea aroma and a sparkling water-like texture.
The aftertaste, however, has the intensity of alcohol.
Most importantly, I didn't feel the slightest discomfort.
Could it be that I've really misunderstood Ginny?
Hermione suddenly felt very guilty.
"Wash your hands before serving it to Professor Phillips."
Ginny pointed to her hand and suddenly made a suggestion.
"Your hands are covered in tea dregs and smell of alcohol."
"it is good."
Meanwhile, Sean was in his office planning Hogwarts' upcoming budget.
The budget-related reports were previously in Professor McGonagall's possession.
After he succeeded Dumbledore.
Professor McGonagall handed over these powers (and miscellaneous tasks) to him as if they were a hot potato.
It wasn't too difficult for Sean.
Anyway, he doesn't do most of the work; he just delegates it to Bertha or Penelope.
Hogwarts' finances have never been very healthy.
-
Although magic exists.
However, items such as the defense and maintenance of Hogwarts, the breeding of magical creatures, the repair of various magical equipment, professor salaries, and the cost of potion materials all require considerable expenditure.
And what about the school's revenue?
It relies entirely on student tuition fees and some funding from the Ministry of Magic.
In order to punish Dumbledore.
In recent years, the Ministry of Magic itself has also faced budget cuts, with funding for Hogwarts decreasing year by year.
Moreover—
This year, due to external environmental factors, many wizarding families have taken precautions for safety.
They are considering having their child drop out of school.
Those wizarding families who had the means to attend Hogwarts also tended to offer private lessons in magic.
Everyone knows that.
If Voldemort were to return, Hogwarts would definitely be among his top targets.
This has led to a decline in Hogwarts' enrollment numbers this year.
A penny stumps the hero.
Even someone as powerful as Dumbledore couldn't conjure up a large number of Galleons out of thin air.
To alleviate financial pressure, it is generally necessary to "increase revenue and reduce expenditure".
For example, to reduce unnecessary course losses, some materials for the Potions class need to be strictly rationed.
Alternatively, the teaching staff could be merged.
Simply put, it means canceling some unnecessary elective courses.
But Sean didn't want to do those things.
Having only recently become the principal, what will others think of me if I start cutting costs and increasing revenue?
Inevitably, you will be compared to others.
But Sean doesn't want to use his own money to fill the vacancies at Hogwarts.
That's not a long-term solution.
Perhaps we should introduce "commercial sponsorship".
For example, they could propose courses or college scholarships sponsored by famous flying broom makers or other brands.
You can give it a try.
Thump thump thump—
Is someone knocking on the door?
"Please come in."
It's Harry.
Harry, who returned empty-handed from Slughorn after being "betrayed" by Ron, seeks solace.
"Want to see another memory?"
"Is there anything else?"
"Dumbledore sent it to me yesterday."
Sean smiled mysteriously and took out the Pensieve.
"But that's not all—there's someone else who specially left this for me, as a gift for you when we meet."
Another person? Who?
For some reason, Harry thought of the "Mr. Toys".
What comes into view—
It was an office, a very familiar office, the office of Dumbledore (Professor Phillips).
The biggest difference between inside and reality is that it's snowing outside the window.
A younger version of Dumbledore is sitting at his desk.
The slightly younger Dumbledore seemed to be waiting for something.
Sure enough, a knock came soon after.
"Come in."
Voldemort walked in.
The Voldemort of today is completely different from the Voldemort of the previous memory.
He's not as handsome anymore. He's matured a bit. He looks a little gloomy.
Good evening, Tom.
Dumbledore greeted Voldemort in a relaxed tone.
"Please sit down."
"Thanks."
Voldemort sat in the chair that Dumbledore pointed to.
"I heard you became the principal. That's truly an admirable choice."
"I'm glad you think so. Would you like something to drink?"
"That's great, I've walked a long way."
Dumbledore stood up, strode to the cabinet where the Pensieve was now placed, took out a bottle of wine, poured a glass for Voldemort, poured one for himself, and then returned to his desk to sit down.
"So, Tom—what brought you here?"
Voldemort did not answer immediately, but simply took a small sip of his drink.
"They don't call me Tom anymore; I'm now called..."
I know your current title.
Dumbledore said with a smile.
"But in my eyes, you'll probably always be Tom Riddle. That's probably the most annoying thing about being a teacher—we can never completely forget what our students used to look like."
As he spoke, he raised his glass, as if to clink glasses with Voldemort.
"I'm quite surprised you've been here for so long."
Voldemort ignored him, paused, and then spoke.
"I've always wondered why a wizard like you has never thought of leaving this school."
"Oh," Dumbledore said with a smile, "for a wizard like me, nothing is more important than passing on ancient skills and nurturing young minds. If I remember correctly, you seemed to have been quite interested in teaching back then."
"I can still feel its allure," Voldemort said. "I'm just curious why someone like you, who is frequently consulted by the Ministry of Magic and even nominated twice as Minister for Magic—"
“Three times,” Dumbledore corrected softly, his tone calm, “but a position in the Ministry of Magic has never truly appealed to me. In that respect, perhaps we are somewhat similar.”
Voldemort lowered his head, without a smile, and took another sip of his drink.
Dumbledore didn't rush to break the silence, but waited quietly for the other party to speak again with that calm and cheerful expression.
"I'm back."
After a long silence, Voldemort spoke again.
"It may be a little later than Professor Dippet initially expected—but I've returned nonetheless. This time, it's to reapply for the position he deemed too young and unsuitable. I've come to ask for your permission to return to teach at Hogwarts. You should know that since leaving this school, I've seen and learned a great deal. I can teach your students things that no other wizard can ever teach them."
Dumbledore watched him for a moment from above the rim of the cup.
"Yes, I know you've been through a lot and done a lot since you left. The rumors about your whereabouts have already reached your alma mater, Tom. If even half of those rumors are true, I can only feel deep regret."
Voldemort remained expressionless as he spoke.
"Greatness begets envy, envy breeds resentment, and resentment breeds lies. You must understand this, Dumbledore."
"Do you call everything you do great?"
"Of course, I conducted experiments and may have pushed magic to unprecedented levels," "some magic."
Dumbledore interrupted Voldemort without any politeness.
"Some magic. But in other areas, you are still—forgive my bluntness—regrettably ignorant."
Voldemort smiled for the first time; it was a mocking smile, more chilling than rage, like a hunter who had the game in his grasp contemptuously scrutinizing his prey.
“It’s the same old story,” he said in a low voice. “But Dumbledore, nothing I’ve ever seen in this world has proven your famous theory—that love is more powerful than the magic I possess.”
"Perhaps you're looking in the wrong place," Dumbledore replied calmly.
"Where else could I begin my new research than here—Hogwarts?" Voldemort continued. "Would you allow me to return? Would you allow me to pass on what I have learned to your students? I am willing to give myself and my talents to you, to be at your command."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanged.
"And what about those who obey your commands?" he asked. "What about those who call themselves—or supposedly call themselves Death Eaters?"
Voldemort had no idea that Dumbledore already knew the name.
But he only paused for a moment. He tried to justify himself.
"My friends—I believe they will continue their mission even without me."
"I'm glad to hear you call them friends," Dumbledore said, his gaze calm and serene. "I had thought they were more like servants."
"You're wrong," Voldemort said calmly.
'
Thump thump thump—
A knock on the door interrupted the two's Pensieve meditation journey.
"Looks like I'll have to watch it another time."
The two people exited the Pensieve.
Hermione stood at the door with a drink in hand, and the two greeted each other.
"You've come to bring Professor Phillips a drink?"
Harry did know that Hermione and Ginny had made drinks for Professor Phillips.
So it's not surprising that Hermione is here.
1
'
"Did you ask the professor about Horcruxes?"
"No.
""