Michael let out a sigh of relief. "Good thing we didn't get tangled up with Peeves. If he had actually called Filch, we'd be in big trouble."
"Peeves is unlikely to go to Filch," Wade pulled him up from the ground and said. "Remember? They hate each other. Peeves won't do anything to make Filch happy."
"True," Michael nodded.
Peeves often caused chaos, whether it was knocking over statues or spilling ink everywhere, unintentionally adding a lot of work for the castle's caretaker, Filch, who was often driven mad with anger.
The two of them continued to climb the spiral staircase leading to the Ravenclaw Tower, going round and round until they were dizzy. They had to stop frequently to catch their breath, their thighs were so sore that they felt like they were not their own..
Normally, Michael would be complaining non-stop at this point—unless there was a pretty girl nearby, in which case he'd pretend it was no trouble at all, using the excuse of taking care of the girls to stop and rest.
But today, Michael was unusually quiet. It wasn't until they were almost back at the common room that he spoke up, "Tomorrow, we have our flying lesson too."
Wade: "Yeah."
"Forget all the nonsense I said earlier!" Michael muttered gloomily. "Just follow Madam Hooch's instructions and take it slow."
Wade sighed, "What happened with Neville was just an accident. Not everyone is as unlucky as he is."
Michael probably knew this deep down, but he couldn't shake the anxiety.
By the time they finally reached the top of the tower, curfew had already passed, but a few students were still gathered in the corridor –
Not every Ravenclaw is a master of riddles; when it comes to areas outside their knowledge, even the smartest minds can struggle.
Sometimes, you could see over twenty students standing outside the common room, discussing the day's riddle together.
Wade approached and knocked on the bronze knocker set into the wooden door. The eagle-shaped knocker suddenly opened its beak and asked in a soft, almost lyrical voice:
"It has hands above and below, sometimes crawling, sometimes walking. When it walks, it's like a person; when it crawls, it's like a dog."
To enter the common room, you had to correctly answer the riddle posed by the eagle-shaped knocker.
Michael imagined some creature covered in hands, crawling in the darkness, and said in horror, "What kind of monster is that? Is it some kind of demon from mythology?"
Panicking, he fumbled in his bag for his textbook "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" and frantically flipped through the pages.
"Don't bother looking; it's not in the book," a tired Ravenclaw student said. "I've already flipped through the entire thing."
The others nodded silently in agreement.
Wade stood there, thinking.
The bronze knocker is like the legendary Sphinx; its questions aren't necessarily difficult, but they can be tricky to figure out.
The knocker never specifies whether it is asking a riddle, a brain teaser, or something else, nor does it hint if the answer is a plant, animal, object, word, or something intangible, like time or death.
This riddle, at first glance, has a bit of a Cthulhu vibe, but there is something familiar about it.
"—A monkey?" Wade asked hesitantly after a moment.
"Correct," said the eagle-shaped knocker as it opened the wooden door.
...
After the incident during the flying lesson, breakfast the next day was much quieter.
The students no longer bored each other with endless stories of how they'd flown over mountains and seas on their broomsticks. Instead, a new piece of news had spread like wildfire among the first-year students.
"Did you hear what happened during the flying lesson yesterday? Harry Potter and Slytherin's Malfoy almost got into a fight, but guess what happened?" At the long table, Padma Patil spoke to those around her in a mysterious tone.
"I heard that because Harry Potter showed incredible flying talent, not only did he avoid punishment, but Professor McGonagall even made an exception and recommended him to join Gryffindor's Quidditch team!"
Because she has a twin sister in Gryffindor, Padma always has the inside scoop on things.
"Really? Professor McGonagall?" The surrounding students were shocked.
Everyone knows that Professor McGonagall is the most fair and strict professor at Hogwarts. She treats all four houses equally and never plays favorites.
The fact that she made an exception for Harry Potter was so surprising that it made them temporarily forget the earlier news.
But eventually, someone brought it up again.
"That's impossible," Terry said confidently. "No first-year has been on a Quidditch team in a century! This has to be just a rumor!"
"Maybe he's just a reserve player," Anthony speculated.
"After all, we all saw how well Potter flew—fast and agile. If Gryffindor's team rejected him, that would be the real shocker.
But he's still a first-year, has never flown before, and doesn't even know the rules of Quidditch. Joining the team directly would be ridiculous—he's probably just a reserve player."
Another student, Kevin, chimed in, "Think about it—if Potter really did get a special exception to join the team, the Weasley twins would have been shouting about it by now. But have you heard a peep from them?"
The reasoning was sound, and everyone nodded in agreement.
Padma scoffed and whispered to Michael, "Actually, Gryffindor's captain, Wood, wants to keep Harry Potter as a secret weapon, which is why they aren't spreading the news. Those silly boys are just jealous and don't want to admit it."
Michael didn't point out that he was also one of those boys. Instead, he smiled and said, "Maybe they just don't want to admit in front of a pretty girl that another boy is better than them."
Padma blushed slightly.
Wade glanced over and saw Michael raise one eyebrow at him, looking quite carefree and charming for someone so young. It seemed he had moved past his earlier worries, and Wade couldn't help but feel relieved.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the dining hall—a group of six long-eared owls struggled to carry a long, slender package as they flew into the Great Hall, catching everyone's attention.
The owls circled down and dropped the package in front of Harry Potter before flapping their wings and flying away, leaving a few feathers behind.
Michael gasped and grabbed Wade's wrist, and said in a low voice: "A broomstick! I bet that's definitely a broomstick!"
His eyes were green with envy, and he said in a near-agonized voice, "And it's from the Nimbus series—I recognize that packaging!"
"Yeah," Wade said nonchalantly as he pried Michael's fingers off his wrist and placed his hand back on the table. "If you do well in today's flying lesson, maybe you'll get a chance to join the team and get a new broomstick too!"
He was just saying it offhandedly, but Michael seemed to have taken it seriously. His expression became particularly determined, and he bit into his lamb chop with extra force.
Soon, it was time for their flying lesson.
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