It is worth knowing that inheritors of ancient magic are very rare. Typically, an inheritor of ancient magic may go their entire life without ever meeting another inheritor.
But she felt incredibly fortunate to encounter one at Hogwarts—and he happened to be in the same year as her.
What intrigued her even more was that in most cases, inheritors of ancient magic were either Duds or Muggles without any magical abilities before the age of fifteen—yet Harry was different. Harry had abundant magic power before the age of fifteen, completely defying the norm.
Later, she discovered the ancient magic spell treasured by the Grindelwald family on Harry.
Initially, her closeness with Harry was purely driven by a desire to understand why these phenomena existed.
But during the course of knowing Harry, Vivi was also moved by his qualities—those traits that emerged unsullied from the muck, sharpness, resilience, bravery, integrity, and loyalty, making this sixteen-year-old shine like a star in the darkness.
She didn't know when she started to accept Harry, perhaps it was during those day-by-day interactions where she was gradually attracted.
"Love is without reason, Charles," Principal Fitzgerald said softly.
Professor Luke Wood rolled his eyes, choosing to remain silent.
Ah, the turmoil of youth...
Harry was unaware of what had transpired in the Map Secret Room. As he ascended the stairs yawning, the eastern sun was already rising slowly.
The daylight always arrives earlier in high latitude regions during summer. Harry glanced at his watch—it was not yet four o'clock.
He returned to the dormitory, tossed himself onto the bed, and his mind was still occupied with thoughts of Cassandra.
Actually, Harry felt somewhat regretful now. If only he had realized Cassandra's good intentions sooner.
Perhaps... his campus life back then could have been far more interesting?
As the holidays approached, the hearts of the students began to drift.
After all, the results of the final exams could only trouble them for a short while; not everyone was as concerned with grades as Hermione.
Penciling a few strokes on the paper was enough to justify a few Golden Galleons to their parents.
It should be said that wizarding families aren't particularly focused on their children's grades.
After all, the population in the Wizarding World is limited, the ecology doesn't foster competition, so there's no culture of overzealous nurturing.
Moreover, Hogwarts, whether intentionally or unintentionally, has consented to a happy education approach, resulting in students graduating with levels hard to define.
However...
In peaceful times, it's acceptable.
But if it's wartime, wizards who can't even use magic spells properly find survival difficult.
For those without high talent, the reality is harsh: you deceive the magic spell, thinking it's fine to use it—during a battle, the magic spell might deceive you similarly.
Right, a mere flash suffices the learning progress, why bother with efficacy?
Harry naturally understood the limitations of current Hogwarts education, but he didn't know where to start improving.
Professor Dumbledore might be a good person, but in terms of being a principal...
From a school perspective, Principal Black is more suitable; after all, children not studying are truly reprimanded.
He planned to find a suitable opportunity to discuss the matter with Mr. Principal.
Soon, the holiday days arrived.
Before the holidays there was one last matter to handle—namely the House Cup.
Before Harry's enrollment, Slytherin had already retained the House Cup for six consecutive years—because they had a biased head who constantly deducted points from other houses and abundantly increased Slytherin's points. Including this year, Slytherin had retained the Cup for seven consecutive years.
Already unpopular due to the abundance of Death Eaters and evil-doing ancestors among them, Slytherin was even more unpopular with other houses.
At the House Cup award ceremony, the whole hall was decked out in classic Slytherin silver and green decorations, with snake motifs everywhere.
From Gryffindor to Hufflepuff, from Hufflepuff to Ravenclaw, everyone had a sulky expression—because Slytherin kept the House Cup again this term.
People weren't depressed because their house didn't win the Cup, but because Slytherin won.
That damn fact was a bit unacceptable.
Though personal failure is depressing, the success of foes is most unacceptable.
The Slytherin people weren't particularly joyful either as some were still preoccupied with the missing Miss Melop.
Soon, Dumbledore arrived at the chief's position.
Upon finishing his speech, he loudly announced the house scores, with Hufflepuff trailing at the bottom with 352 points, Gryffindor in third with 398 points, Ravenclaw occupying second with 426 points, and Slytherin leading with an overwhelming 472 points.
Slytherin College folks only then began to cheer, jubilantly shouting.
Not surprisingly, Dumbledore began his micro-manipulations.
He first recounted the remarkable performance of Neville, Seamus, Hermione, and Ron, then emphasized Harry's excellence, fiercely adding a whopping two hundred points to Gryffindor.
The thrill on the faces of Slytherin people vanished in an instant, as if they'd seen a heap of dead rats, hard to accept.
If someone stood outside the hall at that moment, they might think something extraordinary had happened inside.
The cheers from the Gryffindor table rose wave upon wave, but surprisingly the cheers from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff seemed even louder than Gryffindor's.
Though not delighted by personal failure, seeing that foes didn't win, indeed calls for celebration.
Many rushed forward, wanting to shake hands with Harry and his friends—Neville's face turned pale in shock, promptly overwhelmed by the crowd rushing to embrace him.
"This means," Dumbledore had to shout above the thunderous applause, "we need to make some small changes to the decorations here."
He clapped his hands, immediately, those green hanging streamers turned crimson, silver turned gold; the giant Slytherin snake faded away, replaced by a majestic Gryffindor Lion.
Snape was shaking hands with Professor McGonagall, forcing an awkward smile upon his face.
Harry looked up at Snape, Snape seemed to feel something and turned his gaze to Harry.
Then, Snape showed a disdainful expression as though he'd eaten a fly and instantly turned his head away.
Harry felt like laughing but thought better of it and restrained himself.
The holidays arrived as scheduled, Harry had long prepared plans for them.
This holiday, he had many things to do, like going to Gringotts, visiting the Malfoy family, visiting the Weasley family, searching for the trace of the Fang in Diagon Alley... In short, he had a lot to do.
He planned to do them one by one, starting by returning to the Dursley family.
Even though he didn't particularly like his uncle's family, it was still essential to have a place to take a break.
The house-elves at Hogwarts were diligent, helping them pack their wardrobes and suitcases onto the train before their departure.
Before boarding the Hogwarts Express, Harry headed to Pabi's side.
He searched for a while before finding Pabi by the Black Lake.
Her nose was submerged in the water, bubbles were gurgling up.
"Pabi?" Harry asked curiously, "What are you doing?"
Pabi lifted her head and said: "I'm gurgling."
Then she put her nose back into the water.
"Gurgle gurgle, gurgle gurgle..."
Harry wiped the sweat from his brow and asked her, "I'm going home—do you want to come with me?"
Pabi lifted her head, seemingly reassessing a youth with an unpromising future.
"Are you taking a Unicorn to the Muggle world?"