As the weather grew colder, the Gryffindor common room remained brightly lit, its warm glow illuminating almost every corner.
A red fire burned brightly in the fireplace against the wall, making the entire room feel warm and inviting.
Several chairs with scarlet cushions were arranged in a circle, with a low coffee table in the middle. On the table sat a pale-red teapot with a long spout. Beside it lay an extremely thin book with a yellowed cover, so thin that it hardly seemed to require binding at all.
"Meow."
Crookshanks's meow was particularly noticeable in the otherwise quiet common room.
Hermione shifted her gaze away from the book in her hands.
Her pet cat was curled up quietly in a bamboo basket beside the fireplace. Its body was completely huddled together, its head buried in its fur and its ears drooping. Only a few tufts of soft, fluffy yellow fur were visible.
At first glance, it could easily have been mistaken for someone's scarf that had been left there.
Crookshanks yawned sleepily, narrowed its eyes, and lazily drifted back to sleep.
Its owner, Hermione Granger, was reclining in a comfortable chair, a book spread across her lap as she returned her attention to the pages.
A few strands of brown, curly hair had fallen across her forehead, obstructing her vision. She stared at the book for a moment before tucking the unruly strands behind her ear.
The "bequests" Dumbledore had left her consisted of two books.
One was The Tale of Beedle the Bard, which she was currently holding.
The other was The Travels of Alan the Bard, which lay on the coffee table.
The former was relatively complete, while the latter appeared to be nothing more than a collection of fragments, consisting of only a few thin pages.
After a brief suspension of classes and their subsequent resumption, the weekend had arrived once again.
Hermione patiently read through these "relics" during the weekend afternoon, hoping to find some message or hint from the Headmaster.
But almost the entire afternoon had passed, and she still hadn't found anything useful.
It left her inexplicably irritated and anxious.
The figure who had dragged her into the cabinet had cast a deep shadow over her heart.
What kind of scheme is Lord Voldemort planning?
Certainly, in the past, she would never have read a book with such a utilitarian purpose.
Perhaps the ultimate goal of reading was to acquire knowledge or simply find entertainment, but for Hermione now, things were clearly different.
Professor Dumbledore never did things without a reason.
And yet, despite her best efforts, Hermione could not figure out what Dumbledore was trying to express, nor what clues he hoped to convey through this collection of stories.
These short fables seemed to do nothing more than teach simple principles of life.
The Wizard and the Hopping Pot taught people to be helpful and assist those around them.
The Fountain of Fair Fortune illustrated that everyone experiences misfortune, but as long as one strives toward happiness, everyone can eventually find their own good fortune.
The ending of The Warlock's Hairy Heart reminded readers that the beauty of one's heart was far more important than wealth and status, and that the care of family and the love of a partner were the best medicines for soothing the soul.
The fourth story, Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump, told the tale of a clever and honest witch outwitting a fraudulent wizard.
Reading through these stories was certainly a wonderful way to pass an afternoon.
Hermione had to admit that the little tales were actually quite interesting and meaningful.
However, as for finding any clues within them that could help defeat Lord Voldemort…
There was simply no way.
She looked around, then tightened the scarf around her neck and rubbed her palms together.
For some reason, the fireplace seemed to have cooled slightly, and the warm atmosphere of the common room had become a little colder.
She waved her hand.
"Blanket, fly here!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, a blanket embroidered with a lion and trimmed with pale-red and yellow lace burst through the doorway.
It flew out from the girls' dormitory with a gust of wind, fluttering like a wave as it descended the stairs.
Crookshanks, sleeping beside the fireplace, heard the commotion and opened its eyes alertly.
It immediately raised its head and looked around.
After confirming that there was no danger, it scratched its face with one paw before curling back up.
Its bristling yellow fur quickly softened.
Back to sleep.
Finally, the blanket gently settled over Hermione's knees.
She immediately felt warm again.
She took a breath and decided to continue reading.
Harry and Ron were not here at the moment. They had gone to the library to investigate the secret behind finding the "relics" they had received.
The three of them would later reunite and exchange what they had discovered.
Hermione raised her hand and turned to the latest page of The Tale of Beedle the Bard.
It was also the final story in the book.
The opening line immediately caught her attention.
Once upon a time, there were three brothers who, at dusk…
Death broke off from the riverbank…
The story immediately excited her, and she unconsciously tightened her grip on the somewhat brittle pages.
Could the Elder Wand, the Invisibility Cloak, the Resurrection Stone, and the Deathly Hallows be the key to solving Lord Voldemort's problem?
But after reading the story, she felt somewhat disappointed.
She didn't know where the Resurrection Stone was.
The Elder Wand was in Lord Voldemort's hands.
And the only clue she had was Harry's Invisibility Cloak.
She would have to find some time later to ask Harry about his cloak.
She then exchanged the books on the coffee table with the one in her hands.
Now she held The Travels of the Minstrel Alan.
Although the book looked rather old, there was still a faint smell of ink when she held it.
As soon as she opened the title page, a sentence immediately caught her attention.
"Lucky reader, it is your honour to be able to read this story."
"He who fights with dragons will become a dragon himself. The story I am about to tell you is the last of my stories, and it is about dragons."
"The actual content of the story has nothing to do with my first sentence. That was simply something I said offhand to illustrate the depth of the story."
This was clearly a genuine collection of anecdotes rather than a formal book intended to teach moral lessons.
Compared with the exquisite binding of The Tale of Beedle the Bard, which even had a cover stitched with golden thread, this book was far too crude and inexpensive.
A wisp of ethereal silver smoke suddenly emerged from the book, forming the image of a grinning wizard.
Hermione had to raise her head and examine him closely.
The wizard wore a loose chestnut-coloured robe and a battered hat, with a withered blade of grass dangling from the corner of his mouth.
His wand was tucked casually into his belt.
He looked utterly carefree.
Then, in an instant, the wisp of smoke vanished.
Hermione slowly lowered her gaze back to the book.