Dinner was a blast.
The pumpkin and potato beef stew was absolutely delicious.
Even the rock-hard rock cakes, with a bit of Leon's clever roasting, turned out crispy and edible.
Despite Hagrid's lack of appetite, the massive pot of stew was scraped clean.
Leon and Harry were stuffed, burping from overeating.
After dinner, Hagrid escorted them back to Hogwarts Castle.
As they parted, Hagrid reminded Harry to talk things over with Hermione and Ron.
He decided to keep his secret for now, leaving it to Dumbledore to choose the right moment to tell Harry the full truth.
…
In the early hours of the morning, in the Gryffindor Tower boys' dormitory, Leon drew his bed curtains, cast a Muffliato charm, and summoned Kreacher.
"Kreacher, take me to the edge of the Forbidden Forest."
Leon grabbed the house-elf's thin wrist.
"Yes, Master," Kreacher replied.
With a faint magical ripple and a soft pop, Leon's four-poster bed was left empty once again.
Kreacher Apparated with Leon to the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.
---
The Forbidden Forest was dark and silent at night.
After sending Kreacher off to rest, Leon retraced the path he and Harry had taken that afternoon.
"Homenum Revelio!"
Leon's spell took effect, and a golden mist spread out, revealing two clear sets of footprints on the ground.
Following the tracks, Leon first reached the clearing where they'd practiced flying.
He cast the tracking spell a few more times, eventually arriving at the spot where he and Harry had faced off against the Acromantulas.
The area was littered with traces of magical activity.
There were scorch marks from Leon's fire spells, plenty of Acromantula webbing and venom splatter, and deep tire tracks from their chaotic encounter.
Leon even found a severed Acromantula leg, snapped off by the flying car.
He tapped the leg with his fingers, producing a metallic clank.
This thing was almost as hard as steel.
Perfect for experimental material.
Leon scoured the area, collecting every Acromantula body part he could find to take back for research.
Click-click-click-click…
Suddenly, the clattering sound of Acromantula pincers echoed from all directions.
That afternoon, the spider colony had endured a brutal battle with the flying car.
No one had gone hunting, and dinner had been a bust.
They thought they'd go hungry until morning, but now a tasty midnight snack had wandered right into their web.
If Acromantulas could make more expressive sounds, Leon would've heard their cackling hee-hee laughter.
Leon really wanted to hear it.
But since spiders couldn't manage it, he decided to provide the soundtrack himself.
"Hee-hee-hee-hee…"
Leon switched on his Basilisk-like magical aura.
The encroaching spider swarm froze, their clattering instantly silenced.
In the next second, the Acromantulas scattered like mice spotting a cat or sheep fleeing a wolf.
They bolted in a panic, scrambling as if they wished they had eight more legs to run faster.
"Hee-hee-hee, little spiders, run, run! Let's see if you can escape my grasp…" Leon hissed in Parseltongue.
The Acromantulas, terrified, had their leg hairs standing on end, their legs pumping even faster.
Leon was just messing with them.
He had no intention of wiping out the whole colony.
If he scared them into fleeing the forest overnight, that'd be a problem.
Taking a page from nature's top predators, Leon decided to pick off just one straggler.
He trailed the spider swarm, occasionally casting a Petrification spell to slow the one lagging at the back.
Practicing his Petrificus Totalus, hunting, and getting a nighttime jog in—what a treat.
Even the most dedicated overachiever couldn't match his efficiency.
Slowly, the unlucky Acromantula fell further behind the group.
Each Petrification spell took longer for it to shake off.
Eventually, it ran out of steam and became Leon's midnight snack.
Having experience devouring a Basilisk's soul, Leon made quick work of this one.
It helped that this Acromantula was far weaker than a Basilisk.
Leon crouched over the spider's hideous head, gobbling up its soul in just half an hour.
Sated and burping, he slid off the spider's head.
After some thought, he decided to dismantle the whole thing for magical experiment materials.
Too lazy to do it himself, he summoned Kreacher—who'd barely gotten to sleep—back to handle the task.
By the time Leon, loaded with spoils, headed back to the castle, the sky was just starting to lighten.
He snuck into the kitchens for a quick second breakfast, then returned to the dorm to catch up on sleep.
That afternoon's flying lesson went as expected: Ginny stole the show, earning the most praise from Madam Hooch.
Colin took a few tumbles but scraped by.
Leon's performance was nothing to write home about.
But at least he didn't fall off his broom in front of everyone.
His dashing image remained intact.
There was also an unexpected bonus.
A Slytherin girl named Astoria quietly tipped Leon off: Draco Malfoy was sniffing around, asking people from the Sacred Twenty-Eight families about the Blacks.
Well, then. That silly boy was practically begging for trouble!
At dinner, Leon brought his slightly balding parrot, Tom, to the Great Hall, where they feasted.
He spun a tale about how Tom was struggling to adjust to Hogwarts, and a mix-up with a pet tonic caused an allergic reaction, making Tom's feathers fall out and leading to stress-induced overeating.
Not many in their friend group had pets.
Hermione and Ginny's Pygmy Puffs thrived on scraps.
Harry's owl, Hedwig, was low-maintenance.
When it came to pet talk, Ron was the only one who really connected with Leon.
"So, the tonic you gave me for Scabbers was the one Tom had an allergic reaction to?" Ron asked.
Ron often acted like he couldn't stand Scabbers, but when it came to his rat's health, he was clearly worried.
Leon reassured him. "Relax, Ron. I checked with the pet shop. They sent me the wrong tonic—meant for rodents, not birds. They're sending the right one soon. The one I gave you is perfect for Scabbers."
Ron nodded. "It's working great. I've been giving Scabbers a few drops every day. He's way more active now—eating more, sleeping less."
Leon grinned, happy for Ron. "That's awesome! Scabbers is getting up there in years, and too much sleep isn't good for him. More food, more exercise—that's the key to keeping him lively and living longer."
Leon shared a bunch of pet-care tips with Ron: take your pet out for walks, let them soak up some sun, breathe fresh air, feel the breeze, and embrace nature's vibes to stay happy and healthy.
Ron soaked it all in, promising to give Scabbers the full treatment.
For the next two days, every time Leon saw Ron, there was Scabbers, the chubby gray rat, scrambling all over him.
It was honestly a bit painful to watch.
But by Saturday, when the group gathered to work on newsletter articles and plan their club's first event, Scabbers' newfound energy had everyone raving about the pet tonic's effectiveness.
The rat, who used to sleep 23 hours a day, was like a new creature after half a bottle of tonic—practically rejuvenated.
He was so lively that he stayed up half the night, gnawing on his wooden cage until it broke.
Ron was even starting to wonder if he should find Scabbers a mate to burn off all that extra energy.
Leon: "…"
Whatever makes you happy, mate.
Scabbers is probably thrilled.
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