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Petunia, slightly unsure of how to navigate the conversation, chimed in with a comment about the pumpkin pasties, praising their quality and expressing her astonishment at the magic-infused preparation process.
Nigel, watching the verbal tennis match with interest, whispered to Harry, "It seems we're in a bit of a diplomatic dance, Master Harry. Shall we twirl or tap dance next?"
Harry chose to ignore the implied rebuke in Dumbledore's words, focusing instead on the more trivial aspects of their visit. "Yes, it's quite something. Aunt Petunia has never experienced anything quite like this," he continued, emphasizing the uniqueness of the experience over the breach of protocol.
Dumbledore, his gaze flitting between Harry and Petunia, then offered a seemingly offhand observation. "Indeed, Hogwarts is a place of many firsts and wonders. I'm particularly fond of the lemon drops prepared by our house elves. Have you had the chance to try them, Ms. Evans?"
Petunia, caught slightly off guard by the sudden shift in topic, responded with a polite, "No, I haven't, but I'm sure they're delightful."
Harry, seizing the opportunity to maintain the lighthearted facade, added, "Perhaps we could sample some before we leave, Aunt Petunia. I'm sure the house elves wouldn't mind."
Nigel, sensing the continued dance of diplomacy, quipped quietly to Harry, "Ah, lemon drops as a peace offering. How... sweet. Do you think they come with a side of 'let's forget about the rules we've bent'?"
Dumbledore, either ignoring or appreciating the subtle interplay, simply nodded. "A splendid idea. I'll make sure to have some sent to your aunt, Harry. Hogwarts' hospitality must be experienced in full, after all."
The conversation continued in this vein, with Dumbledore sharing anecdotes about the castle's history and its many magical quirks, carefully avoiding any direct reference to the rule-breaking that had facilitated Petunia's visit. Harry and Petunia responded in kind, with Petunia expressing her fascination with the magical world in a way that was both genuine and strategically neutral.
As the visit drew to a close, Dumbledore, with a final, meaningful look at Harry, remarked, "I trust you'll find your way back without any... unnecessary detours. Hogwarts is, as we've noted, a place of wonders, but also of rules that ensure the safety and privacy of all who dwell here."
Harry, understanding the implicit message, nodded respectfully. "Of course, Headmaster. We appreciate your understanding and hospitality."
With a nod and a final twinkle of his eyes, Dumbledore departed, leaving Harry and Petunia to make their way out of the kitchens and back to the safety of the Evans household.
After sending his Aunt back with a warm goodbye, Harry returned to the Slytherin common room, where Daphne and Tracey were waiting for him, their curiosity barely contained.
"Where did you vanish to? We saw your aunt leaving but you both just disappeared," Tracey inquired, her eyes wide with intrigue.
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the concern in her voice. "I took my aunt on a little tour around Hogwarts," he revealed, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Daphne gasped, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Is that even allowed?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and admiration.
Shrugging nonchalantly, Harry said, "Haven't heard any rule against it," sparking a light-hearted air around the conversation.
Tracey, still bubbling with laughter from their recent adventure, then exclaimed, "Why didn't we think of that?" Her eyes sparkled with the excitement of the untold possibilities Hogwarts offered beyond the classrooms and Quidditch pitch.
Harry, unable to resist a playful jab, rolled his eyes and responded, "Well, your parents wandered these halls for seven years; my aunt hadn't set foot in the wizarding world until today. It's a bit of a different situation, don't you think?"
Tracey giggled, the sound echoing softly in the common room. "Oh, right," she admitted, her laughter subsiding as she pondered the uniqueness of Harry's situation compared to her own family's long history within the magical community.
Their conversation naturally drifted to the Quidditch match and Oliver Wood's reaction to the game's outcome. Harry's subtle manipulations and strategic play had left the Gryffindor team, particularly Wood, in a state of bewilderment and frustration.
Imitating Oliver Wood's exasperated mannerisms, Tracey threw her hands up in the air and exclaimed in a gruff voice, "How could you let him outfly you? That's Potter, for Merlin's sake! We practice for this!" Her impersonation was so spot-on that it sent both her and Harry into fits of laughter.
Harry watched Tracey's performance with amusement twinkling in his eyes. "That's a pretty good impression. I'd bet Wood is still pacing the locker room, trying to figure out what went wrong," he said, chuckling at the image Tracey's words had conjured.
Daphne, who had been quietly enjoying their banter, added, "You know, I almost feel sorry for him. Almost." Her tone was teasing, clearly amused by Gryffindor's plight but not enough to extend genuine sympathy.
The three friends continued to chat about the game, dissecting each play and Harry's incredible feats with the enthusiasm of true Quidditch fans. They discussed the Snitch's capture, the Slytherin team's tactics, and the spectators' reactions, reliving the excitement of the match in the comfort of their common room.
As their conversation wound down, Nigel's voice chimed in with a hint of sarcasm, "Ah, the trials and tribulations of a Quidditch star. How do you manage to stay so humble, Master Harry?"
Harry smirked, replying mentally, "It's a tough job, Nigel, but someone's gotta do it. Besides, humility is overrated when you've got a broomstick and a bit of flair."
Nigel snorted, his amusement clear even in the silent communication between them. "Flair? If that's what you're calling it, I fear for the future of modesty in the wizarding world."
The evening progressed with light-hearted conversations and shared laughter. Harry, Tracey, and Daphne eventually decided to call it a night, each retiring to their respective rooms.
As the winter's chill gave way to the warmth of spring, Harry found himself immersed in the complexities of Arithmancy, Onomancy, and the nuanced relationship between words and spells. With the aid of Omnitongue, he delved into how these elements could be tailored to the languages of magical creatures. His exploration into these subjects was driven not by academic obligation but by a deep-seated curiosity.
"I must say, Master Harry, your dedication to turning magical creatures' babble into an academic pursuit is commendably... obsessive," Nigel remarked, his tone laced with his usual blend of amusement and skepticism.
Harry, absorbed in his research, barely looked up. "Obsession, Nigel, is just passion misunderstood. Besides, I believe there's a rhythm to it, a sort of magical linguistics that could redefine spellcasting."
"Ah, to think, there was a time when your biggest concern was not getting caught out of bed after curfew. Now, you're redefining spellcasting. They grow up so fast," Nigel quipped, his voice dripping with mock sentimentality.
Harry, unfazed, continued his studies, delving into the nuanced relationships between spells and the ancient languages of magical creatures. His Quidditch prowess, though unmatched, took a backseat to his academic pursuits. With Nigel and the System's support, catching the Snitch had become almost a foregone conclusion, allowing him to focus on his studies and friendships. In addition to his studies, Harry devoted considerable time to nurturing his relationships throughout Hogwarts. His goal remained unchanged: to forge a name for himself and elevate his standing both within the castle and in the broader wizarding world.
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