Chapter 87: Stirring The Vortex
Melvin parted the hanging branches and entered the students’ secret base.
Behind him in mid-air, the owl postman flapped its wings to dodge the swaying branches. It had just taken a guiding side job, leading the professor and getting paid with a string of white rat jerky. Once the young professor found the little witch in the corner, it cooed to indicate the task was complete.
Melvin hung a string of rat jerky around its neck, rubbed its head, and sent the owl away.
Passing through the low shrubbery, he looked up and saw the little witch sitting by the lake holding letters, tilting her head to look this way.
Wearing her house wizard robe, white shirt, gold-and-red tie, her fluffy curly hair untamed, her expression a bit dazed. After a few seconds, she reacted and stood up hurriedly to greet:
“P-Professor Levent?”
“Isn’t this the witty and brave Gryffindor girl warrior? What are you doing hiding here?”
“Lots of audience letters came. It’s not convenient to open them in the dormitory.”
The little witch gripped the envelope a bit tightly. She had been woken up that morning by the pile of letters. Lavender and Parvati even deliberately read out those flattering phrases in an impassioned tone like poetry recitation.
Later, she opened a howler, so she couldn’t stay in the dormitory anymore.
She stuffed all the letters into her satchel whole and came to the quiet lakeside to sort them. Even so, letters kept coming continuously.
Hermione was a bit troubled.
“What’s inconvenient about it?”
“N-nothing.” Hermione looked down to avoid the professor’s gaze, staring at her shoe tips, her voice a bit unnatural.
Melvin looked at her hair whorl, then shifted his gaze to the lake surface. The lake water was still bubbling, occasionally drifting out faint drowning voices, matching the girl’s evasive and awkward expression. Those who didn’t know might think she had drowned someone in the lake.
“…”
It was a howler.
Melvin couldn’t help but curl his lips into a smile.
Essentially, the function of a howler isn’t to convey information but to vent anger. After receiving a howler, there’s a buffer period. If you open the envelope within that time, you’ll get yelled at by the howler. If you don’t open it, the howler will explode, and the flames it causes are extremely hard to extinguish.
Adult wizards can use magic to destroy a howler upon receiving it, but a first year student can’t destroy it. Coming up with such an idea, the little witch is indeed very witty.
Hermione felt the smile on his face was a bit odd, as if he had seen through her situation but had no reaction, leaving her puzzled.
“Professor, does the wizarding world really have blood purity theories?”
“In Britain, there are many ancient wizarding families passed down to now, so the pure-blood atmosphere is quite strong.”
Melvin came to the shore: “But many wizards are actually shrewd speculators. Their actions are driven by interests. Before the Secrecy Law was enacted, dealing with Muggles brought benefits, so they actively integrated into Muggle society. After the Secrecy Law was enacted, they waved the pure-blood banner to rally more wizards and protect common interests.”
Hermione frowned tightly: “Malfoy is like that, right?”
Melvin smiled without answering directly: “There are also two kinds of wizards who truly support pure-blood ideals. One is ignorant old diehards who plan to take their closed and backward families to the grave together. The other is foolish followers who are deceived and swept up by shrewd speculators, stupidly rushing to the front to shout and yell.”
“The ones who sent me howlers are these people.” Hermione’s little face was a bit serious. “They don’t hate me; they hate all Muggle-born wizards who appear in the public eye.”
“That’s right.”
Melvin didn’t say things like “don’t mind others’ opinions,” which are false and empty, only fooling kids, and saying them too much can be annoying.
This twelve-year-old little witch was stronger than expected. In the first half of the school year at Hogwarts, she experienced exclusion from the student group, and now malice from unknown wizards, yet she wasn’t depressed or brooding, and even figured out a way to calmly handle the howlers.
But dealing with this problem was still quite troublesome.
Among the three protagonists, Harry originally had a savior halo. After the story’s rendering, his Muggle-born mother was also elevated. Now no wizard dared to chirp about his background; it even formed a narrative that opposing Harry meant supporting Voldemort.
Ron was pure-blood.
Only Hermione was Muggle-born. As the moving picture continued to play, she would enter more people’s view. The good news was she could build reputation now. The bad news was, for the next period, the little witch would keep receiving malicious howlers.
For a student like her who loved studying, the place she stayed most was the library. If a howler exploded there, Madam Pince would probably put the little witch on the blacklist.
She couldn’t stay by the lake forever.
“Hiss…”
The sound of a fuse came from the satchel beside her again.
Hermione hurriedly picked up a stone and, before the howler lost control, neatly sank it into the lake.
This Black Lake was vast, its surface calm with no apparent waves, but actually bottomless, with waterways connecting to the Atlantic underneath. The dark red envelope splashed into the water and quickly vanished without a trace, only bubbles gurgling up.
“…”
Watching her practiced movements, Melvin thought for a moment and said to the little witch: “Do you remember the method I taught you on Halloween to deal with the troll?”
Hermione’s eyes lit up beside him. She rummaged in her satchel and pulled out a red-enveloped howler.
【Water-Making Spell】
【Aguamenti】
Hermione’s incantation voice was crisp. The grapevine wand drew a standard casting gesture, the wrist flick flawless. In half a minute, a floating water ball appeared in mid-air, its edges rippling in circles.
She carefully opened the envelope. The howler immediately vibrated, slipped from her hand, and floated in mid-air, folding and changing into a paper big mouth, emitting a shrill piercing sound:
“Hermione Gran—”
Before the howler finished the surname, Hermione waved her wand, manipulating the Levitation Charm to move the water ball, engulfing the howler.
“Mmm… gurgle gurgle…”
A series of fine bubbles floated to the surface, revealing anthropomorphic drowning sounds.
Trapped in the water ball, the howler vibrated even more violently, the bubbles denser, even starting to heat up rapidly.
The howler couldn’t speak normally and was about to explode in an instant. A few howlers were nothing to the Black Lake, barely making a ripple, but for the water ball, it was too much.
Hermione watched the water ball heating up, the escaping bubbles growing larger, her expression a bit panicked.
“The howler is going out of control!”
Hermione cried out and immediately abandoned the water ball, pulling Melvin to dodge to the side.
“Don’t panic.”
Melvin reached out toward the falling water ball. Magic power carried his will, enveloping the entire water ball, temporarily calming the restless howler: “A howler is a magical creation. Getting wet won’t stop it from working. The Black Lake can silently swallow howlers because it’s deep enough, with surging undercurrents in the deep water.”
Hermione’s eyes widened, blinking once.
Melvin had already cast the Levitation Charm. This power was divided into two parts: one keeping the water ball suspended, the other stirring inside the water ball to create surging undercurrents.
Hermione watched as the howler in the water ball suddenly started spinning.
One circle, two circles, ten circles…
The speed accelerated to a blur in a very short time. The howler became a dark red blurry afterimage. The entire water ball turned murky, like a vortex, invisible undercurrents tearing at the paper letter.
No sound, utter silence.
At some instant, the letter paper burst and exploded.
The letter paper was torn into scraps, the water-softened scraps further shredded into bits. The undercurrent vortex gradually stopped. The tiny scraps gathered in the center of the water ball, mixed with ink stains, carried by the water flow, slowly rotating into a muddy pulp.
Hermione repeatedly recalled that surface-calm water ball, the howler’s spinning trajectory. The powerful force contained in that silent stillness was even more shocking.
Gentle powerless water flow, after acceleration, unleashed violent power stronger than an explosion.
With a soft plop, the water ball fell into the Black Lake, creating ripples.
“Continuously applying strong force to an object from afar, skillfully manipulating the magic power of the Levitation Charm, can produce unexpected effects. The key is to divide the water ball into different parts, targeting one or two streams of water to stir the whole ball…”
Melvin briefly explained the casting key points and gestured for the little witch to try it herself.
Hermione’s expression was still a bit dazed. She hesitated, then gripped her wand and began practicing.
【Water-Making Spell】
【Aguamenti】
As soon as Hermione saw the floating water mass in mid-air, she involuntarily recalled the troll drowning and the howler being shredded.
Hermione took a deep breath, focused her mind, waved her wand, imitating the professor’s earlier water ball vortex manipulation, channeling magic power to make the water ball spin—but it only made the whole water ball spin, with no undercurrents.
The little witch tried more than a dozen times in a row, unable to control it finely. She frowned at the water ball, silent.
It looked like just a combination of basic charms, but actually operating it was extremely difficult.
Melvin, standing beside her, reached out and plucked a few leaves, putting them into the floating water ball, and softly prompted: “Make these leaves spin.”
Hermione stared at those leaves, slowing her wand movement to slower than her breathing, slow enough to sense the leaves along the feedback of the Levitation Charm’s magic power.
Late April leaves, soaked in water, tender green and clear.
The wand tip trembled slightly. Her perception seemed immersed in the water too. The leaves trembled slightly with it. The two tremor frequencies slowly aligned, the amplitudes slowly aligned.
When the two vibrations matched, Hermione suddenly accelerated her wand shake.
The leaves inside the water ball spun with the wand tip.
An invisible connection was established between them, though the speed was slow, the rotation sluggish, the water resistance seeming transmitted to the wand along the magic power.
Hermione pursed her lips, a bit impatient, straining to turn the wand, her wrist twisting into an unnatural arc.
Melvin reached out and touched the water mass surface. The tender green color of the leaves faded rapidly, fine veins revealed, swaying with the water flow, quickly becoming transparent. Transfiguration turned the leaves into water, quietly merging into the water mass.
The resistance suddenly vanished.
Hermione’s movements became light and swift, increasingly adept. Gradually, she stopped moving the wand, but the undercurrents inside the water ball still rotated.
If earlier it was wrist strength driving the leaves to turn, now it was complete magic power control.
“!!”
Hermione looked up at the professor, her face full of surprise and disbelief.
…
Eight in the morning.
Great Hall long table.
The magical dome was overcast gray. Today’s breakfast was oatmeal, pickled herring, fried eggs, and bacon—things that tasted bland.
Harry and Ron saw Hermione finish breakfast in a few bites, wipe her mouth, and head out. The two exchanged a glance, swallowed their fried eggs, wiped their mouths, and chased after.
“Hermione, wait!”
They caught up to the girl in the corridor outside the Great Hall. Harry felt a bit out of breath.
“Lavender said you got lots of howlers. You okay?”
Hermione slowed down, waiting for them to catch their breath: “It was a bit dreadful at first, but I got used to it. Some pure-blood wizards can’t stand Muggle-born wizards getting attention. Some wizards praise and bless me too.”
Ron was really out of breath, hiccupping nonstop, so he could only look to his roommate.
“Didn’t Headmaster Dumbledore help?” Harry caught his breath. “After lunch yesterday, the headmaster talked to us for almost two hours about those letters, telling us not to take the content too seriously.”
Ron suppressed his hiccups to complain: “Actually, the headmaster told 90 minutes of fable stories, interspersed with 20 minutes of bad jokes, only 10 minutes on the actual matter.”
“The headmaster didn’t talk to me.” Hermione shook her head and was about to head to the library when an owl suddenly landed in front of her, holding a red envelope in its mouth.
“Oh no…”
Ron fearfully glanced at the envelope.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.
Ron tremblingly pointed at the red envelope: “Howler.”
Hermione glanced at it, took the envelope, and reached for her wand.
Ron covered his ears while signaling Harry to do the same. Harry was half-believing but followed.
Then Harry saw Hermione summon a water ball, put the red envelope that had Ron covering his ears in fear into it, and rhythmically wave her wand.
The envelope gradually spun up, starting slow but quickly speeding up with the wand tip’s shake. Accompanied by a muffled sound and gurgling bubbles, the dark red envelope turned into wet scraps of paper.
“You… this… howler!”
Ron was stunned, so shocked his hiccups stopped, eyes wide, speechless.
Hermione dispersed the water mass, set the wet trash ablaze, burning it to ashes that scattered into the courtyard with the wind. The whole process was clean and efficient, as if repeated dozens of times.
Harry didn’t understand the casting process, but he knew this was cool.
“The headmaster didn’t talk to me, but Professor Levent did. He taught me a way to handle howlers. I’m not very proficient yet…” Hermione put away her wand and turned to them. “Exams are next month. Want to review with me?”
Harry and Ron had Quidditch in the morning, so they could only stop at the foot of the staircase, looking up as their little partner went upstairs.
The two exchanged glances again, their expressions complex.
Some got two hours of boring stories and bad jokes in tutoring. Some learned profound cool magic techniques.
All Dumbledore’s fault!
