Struggling to survive at Hogwarts

Chapter 337 Package

"Casualties are that high?"

Thea flipped through the casualty report, her brows furrowed.

"Those explosive spells were thrown accurately, almost all of them landed in the center of the courtyard. You saw so many people there, densely packed together. It would be strange if there weren't many casualties."

"Besides, most of the unfortunate souls who died were from the middle to upper echelons of society, and as for the reason—"

"Not everyone is qualified to enter the main hall. Only those who rank among the Death Eaters are qualified to step into that courtyard. Other small fry are lucky if they can leave their names at the gate after the parade."

Gella spoke with a sigh, paused, and then added,

"Oh, right, Draco and the others said they'll be coming over later to say goodbye—"

"Just have them come directly here."

Thea didn't even look up, seemingly completely absorbed in the report, while Gella paused strangely for a long time before finally managing to squeeze out a sentence:

“I thought you would leave them behind, after all…”

"What are we going to do if we stay?"

Thea finally raised her head, her tone earnest and persuasive like a professor, "Staying here, they're of no use other than running errands or cannon fodder. They might be found dead one day."

"You know how many more corpses have been carried out these past few days compared to before?"

"In comparison, no matter how much of a threat Hogwarts poses, it hasn't reached the point of openly killing people."

"Besides, I will go and pick them up after this is all over."

Gala moved his lips, almost unable to hold back the question in his mouth, but was interrupted by Draco, who rushed in impatiently.

The boy had grown quite a bit taller, so much so that Thea had to tilt her head back even further.

"Is Thea really coming to pick me up?"

His expression was a mixture of surprise and delight, but after receiving Xia's nod, it transformed into the proud and aloof expression that the two of them were most familiar with.

"Don't worry, I'll definitely stay at Hogwarts and won't cause you any trouble!"

Seeing Draco's serious expression, as if he were making a pledge, Thea's smile deepened.

"Then I'll add one more condition: your exam score must reach—"

"No, no, no!" Draco interrupted Thea before she could finish speaking, looking exasperated and muttering complaints.

"What kind of sister are you? I'm about to go back to that prison cell, and you still have time to nag me about my studies?!"

Draco's antics were ultimately met with a tap on the forehead from Thea, who then added a seemingly mystical remark.

"If you still don't understand why I'm emphasizing your studies, then all these years of teaching you have been for nothing."

This is a bit strange. The two people's birthdays are almost the same, but when Thea puts on this lecturing tone, no one present thinks it's wrong.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Harry!"

"Look what I've found?!"

"A package! A package specifically marked as being sent to you!"

"Still pink packaging!!!"

Early in the morning, with his hangover headache still lingering, Harry was woken up by an excited Ron.

"Dude, could you please check the time? I didn't fall asleep until 4 AM last night—"

Harry lazily shuffled out of the room in his slippers, his eyes half-open and half-closed. Seeing that the other was about to kick the railing, Ron was so startled that he immediately cried out.

"Watch where you're going, you idiot!"

"what?"

At the last second, Harry managed to pull his foot back just in time.

Then, he naturally "hung" himself on the railing.

Ron was speechless and simply went upstairs by himself.

"Here's your package!"

Ron tossed the package over, and Harry caught it with his long arm, the package landing steadily in his arms.

Where did it come from?

Harry didn't open the package right away, but carefully examined the shipping label on it.

"I was abandoned at my door by the Knight Bus this morning. I didn't even know they started this new service..."

As Ron was speaking, the other door opened, and Hermione came out, wearing a pair of glasses, a rare sight for her.

Why didn't you sleep a little longer?

Upon seeing Hermione, Ron naturally went to greet her, magically producing a cup of hot coffee in his hand.

Want to perk yourself up?

"……want."

Looking at the coffee in front of her, Hermione suppressed her anger at being interrupted from reading so early in the morning.

"I think I just heard something about a package?"

"Oh, yes—"

"I found a package this morning when I went to buy breakfast. It was named Harry, so I brought it back to him."

Ron started talking non-stop, and Harry, whose lines had been stolen, was speechless.

Forget it, he's a good brother, he'll put up with it!

"A package for Harry?"

Hermione frowned, then glared at Ron.

I couldn't hold back any longer, "You dare bring back something of unknown origin?"

"Aren't you afraid it's some new trick used by the ambush perpetrators?"

While complaining, Hermione took the package from Harry's arms and began to examine it from all angles.

Only after confirming that there were no clues on the outer shell did Hermione carefully and cautiously open the package under the watchful eyes of the other two.

"Oh!"

The sudden loud noise made Harry and Hermione's hearts skip a beat, and then they glared angrily at Ron, who had made the sound.

"An accident, an accident!"

Ron chuckled sheepishly, then quickly picked up the chair he had accidentally kicked over.

Ron's antics eased the tense atmosphere.

But soon, the three people present were even more puzzled as they looked at the round object in the package.

"A pink package?"

A gift to confess your love?

A series of concrete question marks appeared above their heads.