Chapter 213. Poor Neville
Returning from the workshop to the dormitory, Neville had already come back from the Room of Requirement, only he looked rather pitiful.
Dark purple circles hung under both eyes, both cheeks were swollen high, his nose was red, and the blood on his upper lip hadn't even been wiped clean.
"Neville, what happened to you?
Did someone bully you?" Duncan asked with a frown.
Neville and the Weasley twins were two extremes.
One would be bullied to his doorstep without saying a word, while the other would look for trouble even when there was none.
"N-no, no," Neville turned around, stopped applying the salve, and said thickly, "it was just an accident..."
"An accident?" Duncan said in surprise.
What kind of accident turns someone into this?
Did you accidentally tumble from the eighth-floor staircase down to the first?
"It's fine, just tell me the truth.
Whoever it was, I'll help you wallop him.
And if I can't, there are still Fred and George!"
"We'll make sure he never dares bully you again, and make a wide detour whenever he sees you!" Duncan thumped his chest and promised Neville.
"N-no, really, it was an accident," Neville waved his hand and explained anxiously.
"Fred, George, and I made a new gadget."
"It was inspired by the pistol you have, and George called it the Invincible Iron Fist Pistol."
"What it fires isn't bubbles that can make a person inflate like a balloon, but a fist made of metal."
"When it first shoots out, the fist is only the size of a knuckle, but after flying a short distance, it can be as big as an adult's fist."
"And the iron fist will automatically launch an attack at the enemy—only Fred isn't sure whether he made a mistake somewhere during fabrication."
Neville gestured as he spoke to Duncan, fear crossing his face as if he were recalling that dreadful scene in the Room of Requirement.
"After the iron fist was fired, the effect wasn't quite what we expected.
It didn't attack the target in front of it—rather, it turned around and gave us a thrashing!"
"My state is already the better one!" Neville gently touched his face, swollen like a ball, hissed through his teeth, and continued, "the two of them are in the Hospital Wing now.
Madam Pomfrey said they'll need at least three days before they can be discharged.
We originally wanted to finish that gadget sooner, to try it on that weirdo when we ran into him, but now it looks impossible."
"Tut-tut, that serious?" Duncan couldn't help feeling relieved.
It was lucky he'd turned down Fred's invitation that afternoon.
Otherwise he'd be sitting here with Neville, hissing as he dabbed on medicine—or even keeping Fred and George company in the Hospital Wing.
"The road of research is arduous, and the process from nothing to something is difficult," Neville sighed.
"That's what Fred told me at the start."
"Who knew he was a philosopher.
I hope you lot recover soon and can finish that gadget early!" Duncan said with a smile.
As Madam Pomfrey had predicted, three days later Fred and George were full of beans, rushing out of the Hospital Wing as if nothing had happened.
They blocked Neville just outside the classroom after his lesson, dragged him to the Room of Requirement, and shouted that they were going to make up for lost time!
But right up to exam week the three of them still hadn't succeeded.
They never managed to control that iron fist, and they'd gone through a dozen bottles of salve.
The mysterious person who wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone seemed to have sensed what Duncan and the others intended—knew they were lying in wait—so he still hadn't appeared.
Harry and Ron had nearly forgotten that person.
The pair had returned to their merry life of larking about, giggling foolishly every day.
Even the three-headed dog, Fluffy, had lowered his guard.
Several times when Duncan went to see him, he was snoring away, the snores audible from far off.
On the day of the exams, the weather was stiflingly hot, and sitting in the classroom felt like being in a steamer, making already uneasy hearts even more irritable.
For Duncan, aside from the written papers, the practicals were all very simple and basically didn't require any brainpower.
Professor Flitwick had the first-years enter the classroom one by one to make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk.
With a flick of Duncan's wand, the pineapple swayed and performed a graceful dance, drawing repeated exclamations from Professor Flitwick, who awarded him full marks on the spot.
In Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration exam, the snuffbox Duncan transfigured was exquisite as well, its surface worked with silver thread depicting Hogwarts Castle.
Even in the Potions exam, Duncan received full marks; Professor Snape's eyes had almost popped out, yet he still couldn't find any flaw in Duncan's technique.
Only History of Magic made Duncan suffer.
The night before the exam he and Neville had clutched thick tomes and crammed all night.
But the next day in the examination hall he nearly chewed his quill to bits and only just managed to fill in the blanks on the paper.
After that sitting, he left a heavy, indelible stroke on the wizarding world's history, creating who-knows-how-many new, unheard-of histories.
When the end-of-exam bell rang, leaving the classroom, Neville exchanged a greeting with Duncan and hurried off.
He and Fred and George were going to sprint in the last few days before the holidays to complete the gadget they'd been fixated on.
Once back at the Burrow, with Mrs Weasley's strict supervision, not to mention developing gadgets, even taking those things out for a look would be wishful thinking.
Duncan, meanwhile, returned alone to the dormitory.
The fire-dragon, Hog, had startled awake in his sleep last night and accidentally smashed a great hole in the ceiling.
He was in a hurry to go back and repair the dragon's nest.
Pro had been complaining to him at noon that Hog had been bellowing on the hilltop all morning.
Its miserable voice was echoing through every area in the case and was about to drive the other beasts mad.
If they were a match for Hog, he'd already have been surrounded by a host of magical creatures and soundly taught a lesson.
After restoring the fire-dragon's nest to its original state, and giving Hog a good thrashing while he was at it, Duncan made a circuit of the other areas to inspect the condition of the other creatures.
Only when the clock on the workshop wall turned to nine did Duncan rub his growling stomach, intending to head to the kitchen to put something in it.
But just as Duncan poked his head out of the case, before his eyes even opened, a wave of heat blasted his face, carrying a whiff of fragrance straight into his nose.
Duncan's eyes flew open, and he saw a pretty face tinged with a faint rosy glow pressed close to his.
The tips of their noses touched, their eyes were within an inch of each other, and their fluttering lashes seemed to be duelling.
The sounds around them suddenly faded away, and the two of them seemed to fall into a silent space with nothing in it, only the sound of breathing gently echoing in their ears.
"Hermione?" Duncan came to his senses, hurriedly drew his face back, and said in surprise.
This was the Hufflepuff boys' dormitory.
How could Hermione be here?
Could it be he was hallucinating?
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