Poor Harry

Artel reveled in the serene scene, conjuring a gentle breeze as he observed Hermione and the golden ripples of fish scales on the lake, a profound satisfaction filling his heart.

In the cannon, Harry held the strongest combat power in the trio, especially after the establishment of Dumbledore's Army. Despite Hermione's considerable talent, she didn't quite match up to Harry in combat. However, with Artel in the picture, everything changed.

At the very least, they could give Harry a run for his money.

Artel's spells, originating from beyond this world, meant that no one had encountered them before. The unpredictability of their effects added another layer to their arsenal.

Lost in these thoughts, Hermione approached Artel and settled down beside him. She rubbed her sore wrist, expressing her excitement and frustration:

"It's just too challenging. I can't perfect the release. Even with full preparation, the success rate is only one-third. In a battle or in a hurry, it's highly likely the release will fail."

"Then take it slow and practice. Magic spells require extensive practice, along with real combat drills, to master them effectively."

Artel reached out, wiping the sweat from Hermione's brow. Her breathing was a bit labored, but she said nothing.

"I suggest you consider joining Professor Flitwick's dueling club next year. It should greatly benefit you. Also, focus on practicing transfiguration. It plays a more significant role in combat than you might think. Even the headmaster employs transfiguration frequently in duels."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully at Artel's advice.

"I understand. Besides reading books, I'll allocate time to practicing magic spells!"

Clasping her fists, Hermione made a determined gesture. Artel chuckled, folding his hands behind his head and reclining on the grass.

Hermione followed suit, and the two lapsed into silence. Apart from the rustling wind, their synchronized breaths seemed to create an unspoken connection, quickening Hermione's heartbeat.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting an amber glow, the wind over the lake took on a somber tone. Artel sat up, glancing at Hermione, only to discover she had dozed off.

After nearly two hours of practicing the Light Shield Spell, despite the restorative properties of her leaf earrings, Hermione felt mentally and emotionally drained.

Observing her curled up in a peaceful slumber, Artel playfully squeezed her cheek.

"Well."

Hermione stretched, appearing as if she had just woken up. When she noticed Artel watching her, she blushed and quickly sat up.

"I'm a bit tired, and I dozed off without realizing it," Hermione admitted in a hushed tone, sounding a bit embarrassed. She added with a touch of annoyance, "But it's better than someone falling asleep reading a book."

"Yeah, you're right. We should head back. It might get chilly after sunset," Artel agreed, rising to his feet. He glanced at the Quidditch pitch, now empty after the conclusion of the friendly match.

Despite the absence of players, the area around the Black Lake was filled with senior wizard couples, making Artel and Hermione stand out.

"I do feel a bit chilly now. I'm in the mood for a meringue cream of mushroom soup for dinner. My mother used to make it for me back home during cold winters," Hermione revealed, standing up. She took out her wand and performed a quick cleanup spell on both of them, removing any dirt or debris before heading back to the castle with Artel.

As they approached the castle, they encountered Harry and Ron, looking disheveled after leaving Filch's office following their confinement. The two were hungry and exhausted, briefly exchanging words with Hermione before hurrying to the auditorium for dinner.

"It must be Snape! He's getting back at us for disrupting his plans yesterday. Look, I'll find a way to stop him," Artel overheard Harry discussing the possibility of Snape stealing the Philosopher's Stone with Ron.

"Poor Harry," Artel shook his head.

Thinking Artel was referring to Harry and Ron's punishment, Hermione snorted. "They deserve it. Gryffindor wouldn't have lost points if it weren't for them. I've already added back the fifty points I deducted, so I'm not feeling sympathetic."

"Let's go, we should eat too, and I'll give that soup a try," Artel suggested.

During dinner, Artel spotted Dumbledore in the professor's chair. Whether he returned on his own after finishing his work or was summoned by Snape and others due to some unusual occurrence in the castle remained unclear.

.....

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