Harry Potter: Using science to be IMMORTAL

Hogwarts.

With exam week just ended, the professors, operating under a rigorous "Huanggang Mode," had worked overtime to finish grading the papers.

Then, they posted a giant ranking chart in the Great Hall.

After all, what's the point of taking exams if you don't rank everyone? How else can students recognize the gap between them? How do you highlight exemplary students and encourage the less successful ones to emulate the high achievers?

So, at lunchtime that day, all students gathered around the scoreboard.

Hermione found the third-year list and immediately saw, "First place: Hermione Granger. Average GPA: 3.9. Total credits: 23."

The girl breathed a sigh of relief. Her position as the top student was secure, all her hard work this year was not in vain.

Third-year students could choose elective courses. To better measure students' learning, Hogwarts introduced a credit and GPA system. Required courses were worth two to three credits, electives one to two. Hermione, who had taken a bunch of electives and performed well, managed to secure the first place.

"Harry! You're second!" Ron exclaimed loudly.

Sure enough, right below her name, it read, "Second place: Harry Potter. Average GPA: 3.9, Total credits: 19."

She turned to look for Harry but saw him just nod slightly before returning to his empty dining table, ready to eat.

He seemed indifferent to grades.

Ron called out to him a couple of times, but Harry appeared not to hear, engrossed in a thick book while munching on bread.

"Sometimes I feel like Harry has become a completely different person," Cho Chang joined in, "Hermione, you're amazing, first place again."

"It's been almost two years, and he seems not to have gotten over that incident..."

Hermione sighed.

Due to belonging to different houses, and despite their common room being connected, they didn't see each other as often this year. Apart from practical classes, she and Harry hadn't interacted much.

But she could sense a significant change in Harry.

He seemed to be drawn by something, moving in a direction vastly different from his past self.

Once passionate and impulsive, the current Harry was calm and composed, his rationality and persistence reminiscent of Tom's possession.

"I took an elective in psychology," Cho said, "The professor mentioned the 'Mimicry Effect of the Bereaved.' When someone loses an important person, they might subconsciously imitate the lost one's characteristics, wholly or partially, to fill the void of their grief."

"Harry now seems more and more like Tom."

As they sat down to eat, Draco approached, "Granger, I need your help."

Over the last two years, Draco Malfoy had been part of their Hero group, replacing Tom. His personality seemed to have improved significantly, and their relationship was relatively good.

"What is it?"

"A physics problem," Draco said, "I need to understand wave equations. I know you're self-studying advanced physics; you're the only one who can help me."

"What do you need it for? Our practical class topics don't include this, right?"

"This summer, my dad arranged an internship for me—at the teacher's side. He gave me some materials and insisted I learn them."

"Teacher?" Hermione glanced at him.

In the practice group, the one referred to as "Teacher" and not "Professor" was only one person.

Even Hogwarts students now knew who was effectively ruling the British wizarding world.

Hermione was still naive about future prospects and employment but understood why Draco and the Malfoy family valued this opportunity, "Alright, I'm free tomorrow morning. Find me in the Ravenclaw common room."

After Draco left, Cho whispered conspiratorially to Hermione, "Draco has changed a lot in the past two years, huh? But he's coming to you instead of older students. Does he like you?"

Hermione, a third-year, and Cho, a fourth-year, naturally had interests in romance.

"Ha?" Hermione was shocked by Cho's wild guess, "I'm grateful he doesn't call me a 'Mudblood,' okay?"

Although Draco's surface demeanor had become much more humble, his inherent pride had not vanished; it had merely transformed into something else—he reportedly now had a group of followers in Slytherin.

They chatted for a while until an owl flew in, dropping a letter in front of Harry. It was unusual to receive mail at this time, so including Hermione, everyone turned their attention to Harry.

He opened the letter, read it, and then froze.

The apple in his hand fell onto the table, spilling juice, but he seemed oblivious.

In the next moment, he stood up abruptly, dropping the letter and running out without picking it up.

"Harry, Harry..." Ron was startled by Harry's state, "Where are you going?"

Hermione and Cho looked at each other, "What happened to Harry?"

They picked up the dropped letter.

"Dear Harry: I regret to inform you that your godfather, Sirius Black, passed away yesterday. The funeral is tomorrow evening. I think you should be able to say your last goodbye."

The letter was unsigned, but Hermione was shocked by its content.

"Oh my God, Harry..." Cho covered her mouth, "He must be devastated."

...

Harry didn't know how he left school or returned to Grimmauld Place.

After receiving the letter, he felt as if in a dream, many details blurred. It seemed he had encountered Filch while running out of the castle, then was blasted away by his own spell.

Then a professor stopped him, he seemed to have said something, even cried, and finally, Professor Flitwick escorted him out of school, sending him home.

He stood in front of the familiar double-story cottage again, but the familiar figure who used to greet him with a smile was gone.

The yard was replanted with vegetables and flowers, and a hoe stood by the door as if its owner would return at any moment.

Harry numbly opened the door. On the living room table was a bottle of wine, a glass with a little red wine, a newspaper—as if Sirius had just taken a sip and stepped out, soon to return.

Harry suddenly felt something must be wrong. Although the professors seemed to confirm it, he couldn't believe Sirius might just be gone for a while. Maybe the letter was a prank...

But later that evening, Mr. Weasley came over with a few local wizards, taking Harry to a place.

Then he saw Sirius.

Lying in a wooden box, as if asleep, was Sirius.

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