Struggling to survive at Hogwarts

Chapter 330 Regret

"Picking out a dress?"

Taking advantage of Thea's rare moment of lucidity, Theodore dared not delay and quickly laid out the dress design in front of Thea and Gella, smiling with a composed expression.

"It's a banquet, after all. I can't be expected to handle the entire process of choosing the dress myself, can I?"

His expression was light, but the hand he extended was twitching slightly. Noticing Thea's gaze, he immediately withdrew his hand behind his back, but Thea felt that his hands were definitely clenched into fists now.

"You...you can take your time looking at it. I'm going to check my potions?"

Unable to resist Thea's gaze, which seemed to see right through his expectations and anxieties, Theodore made up an excuse and left, his back view looking like he was fleeing in panic.

Compared to Theodore, who had fled, the two men inside the house exchanged a glance, but the atmosphere was more strange than ever.

"Not changing your mind?"

"It's too much trouble to not change it."

Thea closed her eyes slightly, as if trying to forget all the expectation that had been in the depths of the boy's eyes just now.

Gella seemed to be asking casually, and didn't seem to care about being rejected. Instead, she focused more on the dress design sketches in her hand.

"Mesh, lace, satin, silk..."

"He put a lot of thought into the materials alone."

"And there are different styles: square neck, strapless, mermaid, train..."

"I even suspect he might be a designer kidnapped from the Muggle world. Is there such a talent in the wizarding world?"

While Gella pointed at the design drawings, Thea leisurely closed her eyes to rest, completely detached from the situation.

"Please, you're the female lead, can't you even spare a glance?"

Gella's seemingly genuine but actually feigned complaints finally earned a glance from Thea.

Seeing Thea take the design brochure, Gella immediately began to introduce it with great professionalism:

"These, these, and these few sets look good to me. They're suitable for indoor use, the design isn't too complicated, and they're lightweight."

Upon hearing this, Thea glanced up at Gella, then looked down again and casually picked out the lightest-looking outfit from the range Gella had given her.

The mesh fabric and A-line design look quite lightweight, but what Thea values ​​most is its sleeves—mesh, complemented by intricate embroidery. With a few layers of powder, it's enough to cover up the scars on her arms.

"This one?" Gella took the picture from Thea's hand and examined it. "It's not bad, but I thought you would choose the one with the mopping function."

"It's too heavy and inconvenient."

After receiving a response, Gella remained silent for a moment.

To be honest, Gella, who knew that Thea was "doing big things" behind the scenes, couldn't help but suspect that one of the reasons Thea didn't choose a trailing dress was because it would be inconvenient for fighting.

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.

While Thea was choosing a dress, Harry was also busy in the Shell House.

Having set their goal, the three of them were filled with enthusiasm and decided to set off without further ado—if Bill didn't bring back the engagement news.

The night was completely silent.

The moon, a rare sight, also unveiled itself, and Harry, unable to sleep, had this opportunity to admire it.

"Harry?"

Hermione?

Two sleepless companions met on the beach near the cabin.

"Can't you sleep?"

"Yeah, I've had too many things on my mind these past few days, and I haven't been able to sleep. I came out to clear my head."

Harry's explanation was impeccable; even Hermione, who had spent so much time with him, couldn't see anything wrong with it, but...

Hermione hesitated slightly, but ultimately abandoned her prepared remarks and chose to get straight to the point:

What do you think of Blake as a person?

Hermione's bluntness surprised Harry slightly. After a moment of surprise, he frowned slightly, as if the question was troubling him.

"Hmm... Hermione, do you know that I used to have feelings for her?"

Miss Granger, who was always known for her courage and wisdom, was stunned. "What?"

"I said, I used to like her."

Harry didn't seem to notice Hermione's stunned expression, as if he had expected it.

Is that strange?

"I don't find this surprising at all."

Harry smiled faintly, seemingly still immersed in that innocent time.

"Who doesn't love the sun? Especially a sun that seems to have persisted despite the opposition of the entire academy, a sun that belongs only to you?"

"You don't know, if... if it had been any later, after I received the trophy, I—I might have confessed my feelings to her..."

Harry spoke the last few words very softly, as if he were a patient carefully touching his almost scabbed wound while enduring the pain.

"What a pity."

Harry finished the sentence quickly and lightly, then looked up at Hermione, who was speechless with astonishment at the hidden plot.

He repeated it again in a low, somber voice, "What a pity."

The person who filled your heart and soul when you were young and naive can turn into your mortal enemy the next day.

Before you could react, the unexpected fight made you forget the days when she protected you.

Even you yourself can hardly tell whether the scene of you chatting happily is your memory or your fantasy.

It wasn't until the whole world knew about their feud and arguments, until the news of that person's engagement spread far and wide, that you finally dug out that memory that should have been hazy from that rotting flesh.

"What a pity."

Hermione had already left, leaving Harry alone on the rocks. He slowly raised his head, looking at the bright moon, the image of Dumbledore falling from the building intertwined with the moonlight.

He repeated those four words for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"What a pity—"

Unfortunately, we had such a big falling out that even my two closest friends didn't realize we had a past.

Unfortunately, I can't even be honest now. I know Hermione's purpose; she wants to confirm whether my fighting spirit is still high, but I don't want to lie to her.

I want to save you.

So I decided to play along and used an even more explosive topic to scare Hermione away.

I succeeded.

But... I failed too.

I once nervously tried to find out what kind of gift a girl would like most, and I also stayed up late at night, reaching into Ron's bed to check if my outfit for the next day was appropriate.

But in the end, they all forgot.

Only I remember.

Only I remember.