As they gradually distanced themselves from the Forbidden Forest, Hermione, who had been on edge, finally breathed a sigh of relief. For a scholar like her, there was hardly anything more dreadful than losing house points.
Thanks to the relentless efforts of Harry and Ron, Gryffindor had now plummeted to almost the last position in the house points tally. At the moment, Ravenclaw and Slytherin were neck and neck, competing fiercely for the House Cup, a competition that Slytherin had consistently won in recent years.
Upon their return to the Great Hall, it was nearly time for their evening History of Magic class, a class taught by a ghost who had been around for thousands of years. Despite entering the classroom with high hopes, it took less than five minutes for both Luke and Hermione to succumb to drowsiness. Hermione, seated beside Luke, was marginally better off, with her head bobbing slowly as if she were a little duck feeding.
In the end, even the studious Hermione couldn't resist the soporific influence of the millennia-old ghost and found herself resting her head on Luke's shoulder while he slumbered on the table.
Whispers rippled through the surrounding group of young wizards, with none managing to escape the phenomenon. Interestingly, Hermione was the last one to succumb to sleep.
"That's quite impolite!" said Binns, in his ghostly form, looked sternly at the young wizards who had fallen into slumber.
Binns was Hogwarts' sole ghostly professor and taught the History of Magic. The story went that he had forgotten to bring his body to class one day and had died upon returning, but even death couldn't deter his passion for teaching. For a thousand years, he had continued to be the professor for History of Magic.
Although everyone in the room was fast asleep, Binns droned on in his rich but monotonous voice, recounting tales of goblin uprisings and other ancient magical histories.
When the class ended, some students left the room yawning, and a few even struggled to stand due to numb legs and feet.
"Binns' lectures are certainly easy to grasp," Hermione remarked as she rubbed her eyes and began organizing the notes she had taken during the first half of the class.
As for what happened later, well, Miss Hermione was already in dreamland by then.
"I think you should use some legendary stories to capture our interest, Professor. Like the Philosopher's Stone or the Chamber of Secrets," Luke suggested, feeling rather drowsy, especially during evening classes.
"My class is History of Magic, and I focus on facts, not myths and legends," Binns replied in his cold tone as he drifted by.
"As for the legendary Chamber of Secrets, it does indeed exist, but it was built by Salazar Slytherin, the founder of Slytherin House. There's nothing mystical about it."
Luke couldn't help but touch his nose, as he was quite familiar with the contents of the Chamber of Secrets. After all, he had ventured into it the previous night and had an encounter with a certain serpentine creature.
In reality, the basilisk wasn't all that mysterious.
"It seems like Professor Binns can be a bit boring," Hermione noted, agreeing with Luke's assessment.
After they exited the classroom, the two of them were about to part ways. Their respective common rooms were on different floors; one on the eighth floor and the other in the basement. They said their goodbyes at the stairwell.
Hermione's figure ascended the winding stairs, disappearing from Luke's sight with each step. Luke retraced his steps down to the Slytherin common room.
Amidst the soothing green hue of the underwater environment, a fireplace flickered with a slow-burning fire. In this serene setting, a group of young Slytherin wizards had gathered in the common hall, engaged in lively conversations and laughter.
As Luke passed by, he couldn't help but notice Draco Malfoy among them. This assembly consisted of pure-blood wizards, and across the lounge, there was another group comprising mixed-blood wizards, divided into two factions.
Luke stifled a yawn and decided to retreat to his bedroom. He had no desire to involve himself with any faction at the moment. After all, there were decent individuals even within Slytherin.
Just as he was about to settle in for the night, Malfoy returned to the dormitory, wearing a contented expression. It appeared that he had enjoyed conversing with like-minded wizards.
"You didn't go see Harry?" Luke, who was reading with his light on, inquired knowingly.
"Hmm, I've had someone help me locate Harry. I'm sure it will be a delightful surprise for him," Malfoy replied with a mischievous smile, recalling the tidbit he had just shared with Argus Filch.
"Keep it down; you're disrupting my reading," Luke admonished, casting a glance at Malfoy, who couldn't help but chuckle.
His smile, however, abruptly faded, and Malfoy's lips twitched. For some inexplicable reason, whenever he was around Luke, an unfamiliar sense of unease crept over him. Yet, his passion for the game enabled him to overcome this fear.
"Why isn't this gaming console lighting up?" Malfoy asked, holding up a black-screened device.
"It's out of battery."
"So, what do we do now?"
Luke raised an eyebrow when he noticed Malfoy's game console predicament.
"In that case, don't play."
"No, my house is only halfway built!" Malfoy protested reluctantly. "How much did your gaming console cost? I will buy it!"
Luke contemplated for a moment before responding, "Never mind, consider it a gift from me. After all, we're friends." With that, he picked up his wand and pointed it at the game console.
Malfoy was taken aback by this action and quickly moved away.
Soon, a brilliant golden arc emerged from the wand, enveloping the game console. After a short while, the red indicator light turned a vibrant green.
Luke had experimented with several consoles in the past, even blowing up a few, which explained his proficiency.
"Thanks Luke!" Malfoy exclaimed with gratitude, then hurried to his bed.
An internet-addicted teenager, Luke thought to himself, as a word spontaneously came to mind.
Overall, it had been an enjoyable evening for everyone, except for Harry, Ron, and their unfortunate roommate who had been pursued by Filch—the woeful trio of the night.
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