"Steps, mind your steps, they're completely off—"
William casually deflected the charm the boy shot at him, and after being repeatedly hit by his own Stunning Spell, Cedric finally succumbed and fainted.
"...Dobby."
Looking at the boy lying on the floor like a dead dog, William chuckled and had to admit, this boy definitely deserved to be called a "genius." Whether it was his speed in mastering charms, his proficiency in brewing magic potions, or even his somewhat awkward combat skills due to not having reliable teachers for several years—
Under William's special training during this period, he was progressing rapidly.
Cedric had now completely reached the pinnacle among wizards of the same age, even surpassing many adult wizards.
If everything went according to plan, he truly found a treasure.
At that moment, with William's call, Dobby appeared alongside the two.
"Take him back to his dorm... never mind, just put him in the empty room next to the Acromantula, set up a bed for him, and," William paused, waving his hand as a pile of magic potions floated down from the shelf nearby, "this one, and this one, have him drink them." He picked out two bottles.
"Yes, sir." Dobby took the potions, then supported the boy as they walked into the room that had just appeared in the living room.
"Chirp chirp."
At some point, the chubby Kabuda had climbed onto William's shoulder again.
"Where have you run off to today?"
William pushed open the door and returned to his study. He didn't plan on sleeping; he had things to do today. Using the somewhat awkward excuse of "knowledge from practice," he successfully collected Professor McGonagall's body data in Animagus form—he still had to record these, and later compare them with the bear from the poacher.
"Chirp chirp—"
...
"Chirp chirp—"
Listening to the mouse's squeaks nearby, Harry tossed and turned in his dormitory bed—that mouse was Ron's pet, and after Ron was petrified, Percy took it back, but recently, for some reason, Percy handed the mouse back to him—
"I'm afraid Fred and George will kill Scabbers, so... Harry, I can only trust you." Percy's tone was so heavy it was like he was entrusting a child.
So Harry had no choice but to bring the mouse back again, and after thinking, placed it on Ron's bed—after all, Ron had always slept with this mouse before, he definitely wouldn't mind. As long as he watched at night to prevent Scabbers from being eaten by visiting roosters for a midnight snack, there wouldn't be any other danger.
But what kept Harry from sleeping wasn't Scabbers' squeaks; it was a strange feeling. Even though Hermione thought he was too sensitive, Harry always believed his feeling wasn't wrong—he always felt that the matter with the Secret Chamber hadn't ended yet.
"That snake... the Basilisk hasn't been caught yet!" On the way back to the common room, after listening to Hermione's explanation of the Basilisk, Harry instinctively said.
"But William just said, Dumbledore plans to wait until the summer holidays, when there are no students at the school, also for our safety."
Hermione flicked her hair, then casually grabbed a rooster flying past her head, "Besides, even now there's no need to worry. The Basilisk's weakness is the rooster's crowing. I suspect that monster might already be dead in some sewage pipe in the castle."
"Caw caw—"
The rooster caught by the girl lifted its head cooperatively and let out a crow.
"But what if the monster in the Secret Chamber isn't a Basilisk?" Harry instinctively retorted.
"...What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione stopped in her tracks, looking at the boy curiously, "The crisis in the Secret Chamber is over, that's a good thing, why do you..."
"...I don't know either, but I always feel this matter shouldn't end like this." Harry furrowed his brows tightly, as if he couldn't articulate his feelings.
"Maybe you're just overly nervous?"
"Perhaps..."
No, his premonition shouldn't be wrong...
Staring at the red and yellow ceiling, Harry tossed and turned for a long time, still unable to sleep. Listening to his roommates' gradually even breathing, the boy couldn't bear the feeling in his heart any longer, grabbing his bag and heading to the common room—
Unlike the emptiness he imagined, there was actually a figure sitting in the common room, on the sofa in front of the fireplace.
"Ginny?"
Harry looked curiously at the figure sitting in front of the fireplace, calling out the other's name.
"Ha... Harry?"
The girl instinctively turned her head upon hearing the voice, and after seeing Harry's face, her voice suddenly became very small, her body instinctively shrinking into the couch, "Meow—" Mrs. Loris crawled out from the girl's embrace discontentedly, then nestled herself in front of the warmer fireplace without paying attention to her call to stay.
"Mrs. Loris? What's she doing here?"
Harry sat on the sofa on Ginny's other side, staring at the grey cat warming itself with a puzzled expression. At this moment, Harry felt an urgent need to start another conversation to distract himself.
"It was Kabuda, the Niffler William keeps, that brought her in."
Ginny's voice was as faint as a mosquito's, and if Harry hadn't strained his ears and focused all his attention, he probably wouldn't have been able to hear what she said, "Mrs. Loris doesn't seem to like the halls recently, too many chickens there—"
Actually, there were quite a few roosters in the common room too, but most of them were quiet because the noisy ones had already been thrown out after a de-feathering operation by the Weasley twins.
"Alright then..."
Harry opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, because as the conversation returned to the chickens, his mind went back to the topic, 'what if the monster in the Secret Chamber isn't a Basilisk?' Then these roosters would be useless?
Though Hermione said he was being a worrywart since all current information and clues pointed to the Basilisk, there wasn't another creature to fit the scenario.
An awkward silence continued for a long time until Ginny finally mustered the courage to speak again, "...Why are you up so late?"
"..."
Harry, being questioned, glanced at the bag he had set on the table, "I came to... do homework?" The boy's voice sounded uncertain, waking up in the middle of the night to do homework?
If Professor McGonagall knew he was this diligent, would she be moved to tears?
Moreover, Hermione hadn't finished her homework either, so whom was he supposed to "borrow" from?
The boy seemed unsure of what he actually wanted to do; he just stared blankly at the table, as the common room sunk back into silence.