56: Gaze in the Darkness

The first-year entrance exam posed no challenge to the newly admitted young wizards.

Everyone quickly gathered in the common room.

Then, a male and a female prefect each delivered a speech to assert their presence. Both were eloquent, and the room erupted with warm, lively applause, their emotional intelligence on full display.

Satisfied, the two prefects began assigning dormitories to the first-year students.

Ravenclaw’s new male students numbered only seven this year.

Perhaps due to the prefects’ care or simply good fortune, after grouping the four students per dorm, Ian was assigned to a triple room.

By coincidence, the two roommates who left a strong impression on Ian at the banquet—Nico and a boy with green hair—would be his roommates sharing beds in the coming seven years.

The dorm’s decor matched the common room’s color scheme. Five desks were lined up in front of the window, and flannel curtains hung in front of each bed.

“Ian Prince,” Ian introduced himself first after stowing his suitcase under the bed. His two roommates were busy unpacking their belongings.

“William Smith. I remember you; it took you a full ten minutes at the Sorting Ceremony,” said the green-haired boy, his face sprinkled with freckles typical of many Westerners.

“Ten minutes? I only recall chatting briefly with the Sorting Hat,” Ian replied, surprised, shaking hands with William.

“I also think time flew by quickly; maybe the Sorting Hat steals some of our time. Perhaps that’s why it lasts so long,” added the black wizard.

“I’m Michael Jordan,” he introduced himself.

“Great name, you must be a natural at Quidditch,” Ian said without resentment, until he saw Michael suddenly pull out a large bag of fried chicken legs and fries from somewhere.

“Want some? I secretly stashed these from the banquet,” Michael said, putting the bag on the table and eagerly biting into a drumstick.

“You have an Extension Charm bag! I read about those in extracurricular books!” William looked amazed at the small cloth bag on Michael’s bed.

Ian stared intently at the steaming chicken leg in Michael’s hand.

No wonder the food vanished so quickly before—he had finally found the culprit!

“Yes, it was a gift from my mother for starting school,” Michael said shyly between bites.

“For some reason, my mom never let me eat these as a kid, but they’re so delicious...” He added some ketchup into his mouth—a unique way to enjoy fries.

“My mom didn’t give me anything. She’s a Muggle who can’t do magic. Only my father is a wizard, but my mom runs everything at home.”

“Mom controls the money too. Maybe she’s just smarter. But we’re very poor; any money goes to support my younger brother and sister.”

William hesitated briefly but then grabbed a handful of fries, eating them leisurely.

“A half-blood, not bad. I’m from a pure-blood family, but I never met my father. He died shortly after I was born.”

“Apparently, he died fighting a mysterious figure. My mom often cried, saying he fell on the eve of dawn,” Michael said sadly.

However, this didn’t slow his drumstick-eating pace.

“He must have loved you,” Ian offered some comfort.

“Indeed. I always knew he loved us. He joined that fight because of me—he wanted to create a safer future for me.”

Michael’s voice choked up, making it hard to continue eating.

“You’re at least better off than me. I’m an orphan; I never knew my parents,” Ian joined the somber conversation.

Unsurprisingly, he received two pairs of sympathetic eyes.

“You’re really pitiful.”

“Here, have two drumsticks.”

Both conceded defeat, and Michael even offered Ian some chicken—though Ian would have preferred watermelon jelly over such a midnight snack.

“No thanks, I’m on a diet,” Ian shook his head, refusing.

He glanced at Michael’s bed; the empty bag inside clearly held no watermelon jelly. Michael had probably shown off all of it at the banquet.

“You’re so skinny and still dieting?” William widened his eyes.

“If I were you, I’d eat more. You’re too thin,” Michael nodded in agreement, stuffing the chicken drumstick he tried to offer Ian back into his mouth.

“I have to eat; my mom said I’m still growing my brain.”

One had to admit, his appetite was truly impressive.

“I need to review my textbooks. I don’t want to be unable to answer professors’ questions tomorrow,” William tidied up and pulled out his textbook.

He turned on his desk lamp and sat down to study diligently.

“There’s no need to be so nervous. Even pure-blood kids don’t study magic before school starts. We just need to pay attention in class,” Michael said, having eaten his fill, then headed to the washroom.

“Makes sense,” Ian thought Michael was right. However, William clearly had his own resolve and buried himself in study, reviewing magical history.

“Why are you sitting at the desk too?” Michael asked after washing up and leaving the washroom, noticing Ian at a desk.

“Just writing a letter home to ease the worries of the orphanage staff. They’re all very kind people,” Ian showed the paper on his desk.

Michael peered over, confirming Ian wasn’t the kind to sneak off and lie. Ian was indeed writing a letter with a quill.

“Dear Headmistress Elena,

I have settled well at Hogwarts School for Gifted Youngsters. The classmates are very friendly, and the professors are experts in their fields.

Please don’t worry. Tell Daniel and Joy that no one has bullied me because of my background. The academic atmosphere here is very strong.

If...”

The letter was unfinished. Michael glanced but didn’t read closely.

“I should probably write my mom a letter tomorrow too,” he said thoughtfully, yawning before heading to bed.

Falling asleep immediately—this was a kind of talent.

Amid the roommates’ extraordinary snoring, William put in earplugs and continued studying, while Ian pondered his words, writing a letter to the orphanage.

Due to Hogwarts’ uniqueness and confusion charms cast on the orphanage staff, Ian had to disguise Hogwarts as an elite Muggle academy.

Not an easy task.

After all, imagining the life of an elite student was no simple matter. If he accidentally wrote about the absurdity of rich kids eating full portions of braised chicken rice, it wouldn’t go over well.

*Scratch, scratch, scratch*—the quill made a faint sound.

William’s desk lamp shone brightly, perhaps some modified Muggle device. Under its light, Ian focused on finishing his letter after washing up.

William continued his solitary studies.

Outside, a gentle rain began to fall.

In the quiet night, faint lightning streaked across the sky. In the brief, dim glow outside the window, no one noticed a pair of peculiar eyes watching the dormitory.

It was a strange creature hanging upside down under the eaves, clinging to the roof tiles, with blue wings—part reptile, part giant butterfly.

It stuck closely to the eaves, staring intently at the Ravenclaw dormitory. In its small, strange eyes, the sleeping Ian’s face reflected back...

[PS: Thanks to the readers who pointed out issues; I’ve revised the previous chapter. Actually, I just wanted to show that a problem with logical complexity can have multiple answers!]