That night, after Maka named and praised the students with good reflexes, the real training officially began.
Until the end of the self-study time before lights out, Maka's endless reaction tests really tormented the young wizards. In addition, there are after-school homework waiting for everyone to complete, so it is inevitable to stay up all night.
The next morning, almost all the party members had dark circles under their eyes.
"I know it's really hard. If anyone can't hold on and wants to give up halfway, I won't blame him."
That’s it!
During the hellish training process, whenever someone showed signs of fatigue, Maka would always say these seemingly gentle and considerate words.
But who among the people present is not a minor? Most of the little wizards who can take the initiative to participate are filled with enthusiasm! Especially when there are several bags of dog food inside... ah no, there are several couples. How can you say anything depressing in front of the person you like? It’s not too late to be competitive!
So in this most difficult first adaptive training, no one gave up in the end, and everyone persisted. Even Zacharis Smith, who liked to complain the most, persisted until the last moment.
Overall, Maka is quite satisfied. After all, as this was his first training session, he did not discount too much on the training intensity. Those who could persist to the end were all supported by perseverance. Even if one or two of these students do have unpleasant personalities, Maka will not blindly deny their advantages because of their personal feelings.
"The weather looks good today..."
Maka opened the curtains behind her and glanced outside. Then she sat down on the chair again, opened the book and continued to study.
He must master these contents as soon as possible. There are many things to be busy with!
At about the same time, Harry had just woken up from his sleep.
He was very tired from last night's training. After he came back, he was still busy with a lot of homework until midnight. As a result, he was working hard on homework even while dreaming.
"Ah! I can't finish it! I'm going to get points deducted by Snape again..." Harry sat up suddenly, blinked and thought for a while, "Oh... it turned out to be a dream!"
He fell back on the bed with a plop and pulled the quilt hard.
The bed opposite was still empty, and Ron had obviously not returned from the ward. He was usually used to Ron's presence around him, but now that he saw less of him, he really felt a little unaccustomed to it.
After lying on the bed for a while, Harry stared at the ray of sunlight coming in from the window and passing between the bed curtains. The fine dust was flying and spinning in the beam of light, shimmering with little golden light.
Today is Saturday, so I feel like I can take a breather.
Of course, it's just a breather. After all, even if there are no other emergencies that will cause trouble in the future, it will be the turn of the OWLs exam soon. As a student, there is no reason to relax.
Maybe it's because the daily life in the past few years has been too chaotic, and bad events keep happening one after another, as if there is no end.
To describe it, this is like an endless Triwizard Tournament, and every day will be a new challenge.
There was still silence all around, everyone was still asleep. If that inexplicable dream of catching up on homework hadn't scared him awake, he would probably be in the same situation now, right
The sunlight in front of me was still very low, probably not long after it started to shine. You can vaguely hear the chirping of birds in the distance, but other than that, the only sound left is the slow and even breathing of the students.
Harry sat up again, opened the curtains beside the bed, and put on his clothes one by one. Then he opened his schoolbag again, took out some parchment, quill pens and ink bottles, took them out of the dormitory and walked to the common room.
The fireplace in the lounge had long been extinguished, and it was much colder here than in the bedroom. Harry couldn't help but shudder, and then he immediately threw in some more dry wood that had been placed beside the fireplace.
"The flames are raging."
He pulled out his wand and pointed at the pile of firewood. A thick flame immediately ignited the firewood, emitting a fascinating heat.
After warming himself by the fire for a while, he sat down on his favorite old armchair next to the fireplace. The soft cushions were quite comfortable.
As he spread the parchment on the round table, he thought about what to write.
When he learned from Maka where Sirius was, he remembered again that he should write to the godfather. Although he could still say some things to Ron, what he really needed was not someone to accompany him in his troubles, but someone to comfort him when he felt troubled.
In other words, a man like his father.
Harry thought as he unscrewed the cap of the ink bottle and dipped a little ink into the tip of his quill. But after that, his pen tip only hung on the top inch of the slightly yellowed parchment, and he couldn't write for a long time.
After a while, he finally realized that he seemed to be just staring at the flames in the fireplace in a daze, not knowing how to write at all.
Of course, there are many things that happened, and just picking a few would fill this parchment. But he didn't have a good idea about what things to tell Sirius.
It is not easy to write letters during this period. He had to find a way to slightly change what he wanted to convey so that he could send it out with confidence, because no one knew whether the letter would be robbed by someone who shouldn't see it, just like Hyde before. It was the same as when Wei was injured.
Harry stood there motionless for a while, and then finally sorted out some of his thoughts. He dipped another dip in the inkpot, then scribbled on the parchment.
He mentioned his Defense Against the Dark Arts course frequently in the letter because, after much thought, it was the thing that disturbed him the most.
Those big spiders were naturally scary, but that was a thing of the past after all, and he picked up the Sword of Gryffindor again.
Well, although this time I always felt that I was not very successful, and I did not exert any special power. But at least he didn't fall back into the madness that once scared him, which was a good start.
What he is most uneasy about right now is the training last night.
During training, he clearly felt his shortcomings. In other words, he is actually no different from everyone else. He is just as tired and performs poorly as everyone else.
And the lightning scar on his forehead still reminds him that he must at least work harder for his parents. Compared with most other students, he is indeed different.
That's why he felt uneasy, because his difference was only reflected in the mark left by Voldemort on him. Apart from that, he still had nothing. He clearly tasted his own powerlessness.
Harry read the letter from cover to cover several times, checking whether he had written anything he shouldn't have written. After repeatedly confirming that it was correct, he carefully sealed the parchment, got through the portrait hole in the common room, and walked all the way to the owl loft.
There are probably so many factors to consider that this letter is not too long. In comparison, the time it took him to complete the letter was a little too long.
When he walked out of the door of Gryffindor Tower, the sun was already covering most of Hogwarts. The sun hung high in the sky, spreading warmth that was completely different from the flames in the fireplace.
The Owlhouse was located on the top floor of the west tower, surrounded by glassless windows, and the bright light shone so brightly that he could hardly open his eyes.
Looking up, more window openings are neatly arranged around the spire, beams of light are projected in, criss-crossing on the slightly dim roof of the shed, and hundreds of owls are cooing non-stop.
The light this morning seems to make them feel a little anxious. After all, owls are a typical nocturnal creature. If you look carefully, you can also find that several of them have obviously just returned from hunting outside, and they still have wood rats twisting in their paws.
Harry raised his neck and walked back and forth in search of Hedwig. The straw under his feet made a faint sound, probably full of broken bones.
"Hey! Hedwig!" He spotted Hedwig's figure near the top, "Come down! There is a letter that you need to deliver!"
Hedwig gave a low cry, flapped her white wings that had just recovered for a few days, flew down, and stood on Harry's slightly thin shoulders.
"Is it okay? If it's not completely healed, I can ask the public owl to deliver this letter first..." Harry stroked her wings worriedly and said softly.
"Gu—"
Hedwig shook her head and flapped her wings to indicate that she was fine.
"Okay, then..." Harry nodded slightly hesitantly, "This time it's a bit far away. I want to give it to Sirius. He is in the United States now -"
"Gugu—"
Hedwig held the envelope in her mouth and blinked her big amber eyes to show that she understood. Then, he immediately spread his wings and flew to an owl stand in the center of the shed, pausing on it for a moment.
Suddenly, a soft light spread over her body, giving her a magic spell to support the long flight. Then, she kicked her legs hard and rushed out of the window, flying into the bright sky outside.
Harry was blocking the sun and watching Hedwig go away, but at this moment, a big black bird that looked like an eagle suddenly glided over from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. After hovering in the air for a while, it headed straight towards him. Come down.
He recognized the bird, it was Macca's owl, whose name he heard was "Malfurion."
Just as Harry was stunned, Marfa suddenly turned around again, her giant wings spread angrily and turned in front of the shed, drawing a black arc and flying towards the other side of the castle.
Marfa's flying speed was so fast that Harry could barely react. He could only feel his heart beating like a drum.
Maka has not ridden a broomstick for a long time. Harry, who loves Quidditch, actually feels very sorry. He has always wanted to have a good game with Maka.
Just now, the beautiful flight of Maka's owl reminded him of the time when Maka dominated the Quidditch Cup.
“…That black eagle is so beautiful!”
He is remembering it! But he didn't expect a voice to suddenly come out from behind, startling him.