Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Vid had already spent two weeks at Hogwarts.

Time seemed to suddenly slow down.

He no longer had to rush to complete any tasks but could leisurely attend classes, study, research alchemy, and create poppets.

As he walked through the castle corridors, he occasionally heard the water of the Black Lake lapping against the walls, rhythmically and serenely, much like the state of his mind now.

Those fierce and swift conflicts seemed to suddenly vanish from his life.

Time also seemed to pass quickly.

When he came to, half a month had already disappeared, the temperature had risen slightly, and the corridors at night no longer seemed bone-chillingly cold.

Walking by the lake, Vid saw snowdrops starting to bloom in clusters, their drooping heads and white petals seemingly glowing.

Every morning, he would pick up the now defunct Time Turner and quietly look at it for a while.

The fine sand piled at the bottom remained gray-white, as if a heap of burned-out ashes.

In the evening, he would glance at it again, but it remained unchanged.

The Friendship Book still had no message from the Headmaster.

Vid didn’t rashly disturb but suddenly understood the feelings others had when waiting for his reply.

Every Wednesday night, he would go to Snape’s office to study Memory Magic.

This was also the only class he attended on time.

In weaving memories, Vid became more proficient each time, but Professor Snape never praised him, always ending with “continue next week.”

Every weekend, Vid would visit the Medical Wing to see Hughes, who was still in the healing process.

This former American Auror had already grown from a baby to the appearance of a four or five-year-old; Madam Pomfrey said that for caution’s sake, his growth would initially be slow, but would speed up later.

Fortunately, Hughes had been recovering well up to this point.

This Sunday morning, when Vid pushed open the door, he saw young Hughes leaning by the window looking outside.

At that age, he looked round-headed, wearing a pale blue striped hospital gown, sleeves rolled up to reveal slender wrists.

Vid looked out through the glass to see students playing tag on the lawn just turning green, their laughter spreading far, carefree.

Young Hughes was completely absorbed.

Vid went over, stood beside him, and softly asked, “Want to play outside?”

Hughes turned his head, pouted, and said, “It’s too childish… not for me.”

Vid looked down at him, seeing the boy’s gaze unconsciously drifting outside again, understanding in his heart—

He hadn’t regained his adult memories; he just didn’t want to bother them.

“School is indeed inconvenient,” Vid said, “but I can take you to a nearby village or town for a tour, back in an hour or two, and aside from Madam Pomfrey, no one would know.”

But Hughes shook his head without hesitation: “Thank you, but no need.”

Though small, he was strong-willed. Vid could tell from his tone that the child’s decision wouldn’t be easily swayed by others.

So Vid said no more, just offered the things he brought for him—

Fizzing Whizzbees that made people float, a toy broom capable of flight, and a little toy lion that could run and jump.

Hughes was pleasantly surprised to cradle the little lion in his hands, watching it open its mouth and let out a quiet roar, finally breaking into a genuine smile.

After playing for a while, he suddenly spoke, “Vid.”

“Hmm?”

“When my illness is cured,” the boy said softly, “will I become an adult?”

“You will,” Vid replied simply.

Hughes was silent for a while, stretching out his finger to poke the little lion lying on the pillow.

The golden lion showed its belly to him, squinting its eyes, kicking its legs a few times.

“Then…” Hughes said again, “When I grow up, will I forget about the me now?”

Vid looked at him.

That youthful face showed a sorrow not belonging to a child.

Vid turned his gaze outside.

“I don’t know,” he said, “but I can tell you, those who grow up step by step, rarely remember their childhood.”

“But…” Hughes said, looking down, “if I forget… won’t it be like it never happened?”

“No,” Vid said.

“Things forgotten also become part of you, some make you timid, some make you brave, and others become the confidence supporting you forward.”

Hughes listened, understanding somewhat but also confused.

Vid was curious.

In the short month or so, Hughes had transformed from a baby to what he was now, spending most of the time in this hospital room.

During the Christmas holiday, Madam Pomfrey had taken him around the campus, but there were always students staying behind, and Hughes couldn’t freely play or run in the campus.

Moreover, he was just two or three years old then, Vid doubted whether he remembered the previous scenes of strolling.

So…

What important things would he need to remember?

This hospital room?

This window?

Or the scenery outside he couldn’t participate in?

Thinking Hughes was different from other children, Vid just straightforwardly asked: “Is there anything you don’t want to forget?”