HP: Alchemy? Nah, It's Crafting

Not long after Christmas, it was time for the Quidditch match.

Harry once again started rushing through intensive Quidditch training, and because every Quidditch player had a Wither Amulet issued by Kasenhis, the sky above the Quidditch pitch was always a bit clearer than the skies over the rest of Hogwarts during practice.

So not only the players who needed training, but also many little wizards took advantage of the good weather to stroll and hang around there.

After all, the players flying around on broomsticks overhead served as deterrents. If a Dementor really decided to risk it all and fly low for a bite, just one player with a Wither Amulet doing a righteous dive would be enough to scare the Dementor into becoming a Dementor Dog.

Gradually, the Quidditch pitch began attracting more and more students. Honestly, it had become the safest place in Hogwarts this term—aside from the castle itself.

Because when it came to the Wither Amulet and the Patronus Charm, while they might not look that hard at first glance… they really were all about talent.

Some people just got it out of nowhere. Others? No matter how hard they tried, they just couldn't get it. In this regard, the Wither Amulet was slightly better than the Patronus Charm.

After all, the Wither Amulet could be thought of like a science subject: it had a fixed method. But the Patronus Charm?

As Professor Lupin said:

"Recall your happiest memory, then find that feeling, and speak the incantation."

Happy memories?

Sure, they all had them. They were little wizards, not dark wizards, so of course they did. Saying the incantation? Just a few words—not a problem at all.

It's just… that damned feeling.

What the hell kind of feeling is that supposed to be?!

"I think it's like… like when you go home for Christmas and find out your parents have been discharged from St. Mungo's. I believe this so-called feeling is also a kind of happiness. But it's not a concrete emotion—it's an abstract feeling. You can approach it from that angle," Hermione lectured Neville in the library, as he was still struggling to master the Patronus Charm.

Although Neville had successfully made a Wither Amulet, he still wanted to improve a bit more.

After all, even though Kasenhis and Lupin had agreed that if you passed either the Wither Amulet or the Patronus Charm, the other subject would be automatically marked as pass…

That was only a technical pass. In Professor McGonagall's eyes, that was miles away from a real pass. The demerits, deductions, and detentions that followed could all be expected—none would be spared.

Fortunately, there was still time now.

Learning even a little more would always help with the final exams.

"Alright, I've written all that down in my notes. I'm off to watch the Quidditch match. Are you sure you're not coming?" Neville said as he closed his notebook.

"Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff—just call me when it's Gryffindor's turn. I'll stay and read. I'm not satisfied with my current Patronus Charm," Hermione replied without looking up, eyes still glued to her book.

"Okay then, take care."

"I will, I will…"

Hermione agreed readily. The library wasn't crowded today—actually, she was the only one there.

Even Madam Pince had confirmed that the only little witch present was Hermione, the ever-obedient good girl, and then happily trotted off to the Quidditch stands to watch the match.

After all, people as hardcore as Hermione were still a rare breed in this world—most were just ordinary.

And fortunately, since there was no one else in the library, things were much more convenient for Hermione.

Especially considering that with Neville here just now, there were some things she couldn't quite do comfortably.

For example, ever since lunch and all the way to now, the sock inside her boot had been slipping down. Needless to say, it was incredibly uncomfortable.

She subconsciously wanted to bend down, take off her shoe, and fix her sock.

But as she did so, her elbow accidentally bumped into the bench—right on a nerve, of course. It didn't hurt that much, but her arm immediately went numb and lost feeling.

"Why is my luck so bad today?!" she muttered, flustered. She reached into her bag on the table and pulled out the outfit-changing book that Sirius had gifted her, flipping directly to the page with shoes.

She picked a random pair of slippers and tapped on it.

"Hah! Magic really changes lives. So convenient!"

After successfully switching shoes, Hermione closed the book and, struggling a bit with her other hand, tried to put it back in her bag. On the way, she accidentally knocked over the quill she'd used earlier while explaining the Patronus Charm to Neville.

"Ugh… Just my luck. I'll pick it up later."

Poor Hermione had no idea what sort of colorful and chaotic evening was in store for her soon. For example, right now—

As the evening bell rang, she finally packed up the books she'd been reading and returned them to the shelves. When she got back to her seat, she picked up her bag, ready to leave—only for the feather quill on the floor to mischievously flutter up as if caught in the wind… and tickle her.

That tickle made her instinctively shake her foot, but she didn't realize that she was standing right next to the edge of the bench.

Her toes slammed hard into the inside corner of the bench.

The sharp pain shot through her toes, and she quickly jerked her foot back—only to smack it straight against the bottom surface of the bench again.

In an instant, a chain of small accidents completely threw off her balance, and at long last, she leaned backward in a spectacular fall.

Ah!

Crack!

There were still a few scattered students in the library during the evening.

A couple of Hufflepuff kids rushed over and helped Hermione up. After confirming she was "fine," they slowly left.

Hermione gritted her teeth through the pain in her ankle... No, she wasn't actually fine. She had just instinctively blurted that out.

By the time she realized her ankle was hurt, it was too late—the words were already out. Taking them back now would just make things awkward.

So she could only endure the pain in her ankle, limp out of the library, conjure herself a cane with Transfiguration, and hobble toward the hospital wing.

"I have to talk to Hermione about this," Ron said with a grin as he chatted with Harry and Neville. "I've always said that Malfoy guy is all show and no substance. Cedric managed to shake him right off his broomstick—what a bloody lightweight."

"True," Harry and Neville couldn't help but laugh.

But after circling the library once and not seeing Hermione anywhere, the three of them looked at each other in surprise.

She wasn't at the Quidditch stands, not in the Great Hall, not in the common room—and even after they asked someone to check the girls' dorms, still no sign of her.

"Do you guys remember in Divination class... what Professor Trelawney said..." Ron mumbled…

The three of them exchanged glances.

"Oh no! This is bad!"

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