The days passed quickly, and before long, February had arrived.
Nothing particularly noteworthy had happened over the past few weeks. Hermione had made a full recovery just a few days after classes resumed and spent only about four more days in the hospital wing—a fact that delighted her, as it meant she wouldn't have to miss lessons and settle for doing nothing but coursework from her bed.
As for me, I devoted myself to my studies and training. I simply couldn't get enough of either. Setting aside my desire to improve, the more I learned about magic, the more I wanted to immerse myself in it. It was like an insatiable thirst for knowledge that only grew stronger the more I drank from it.
Unfortunately, I had to slow my pace a little this year. The professors seemed to have some unspoken agreement to bury the students beneath endless assignments, and even if I had already mastered the material, I still had to spend a considerable amount of time writing essays.
At this point, I had truly come to appreciate having Bloom and nine tails that seemed capable of thinking for themselves.
With a little concentration, ten quills could move efficiently, filling parchment with answers to questionnaires or transcribing information directly from my mind while I studied entirely different subjects.
My main focus was, of course, the pendant. With a hidden threat that could strike at any moment, I couldn't afford to relax without at least some sort of contingency in place.
Because of that, Bloom had to work exceptionally hard as my tenth hand while transferring my thoughts onto parchment.
One might think that studying Runes while simultaneously composing ten different essays would be exhausting and inefficient, but the opposite was true. It came rather easily to me and placed surprisingly little strain on my mind.
It made me wonder how the other students managed when they had only themselves to rely on. Having reached that conclusion, it wasn't difficult to assume this workload had been designed deliberately. That way, there wouldn't be quite so many students wandering around the castle during their free time.
Which worked to a certain extent. It wasn't as though the students had forgotten about the hidden danger simply because they had been back at Hogwarts for a few weeks. They were far less reluctant to remain in their common rooms or the library to finish their assignments.
Among other things, Ron and Harry had found T. M. Riddle's diary. Although I was genuinely curious about it, I chose not to interfere and instead remain ignorant where the diary was concerned. That way, I'd avoid becoming more involved than necessary.
It was a real shame. Even knowing it was a Horcrux, I couldn't help wondering exactly how Voldy had managed to imprint his will—or rather, an entire personality—into the diary.
Although I hadn't personally studied Horcruxes, there was no way simply placing a fragment of one's soul inside an object could grant it independent will. Otherwise, creating copies of oneself by dividing the soul wouldn't be all that difficult.
Of course, there aren't many people reckless enough to experiment with their own soul, let alone split it apart. The soul is the very essence of a person's existence, and even among the old pure-blood families, very few methods have ever been recorded for repairing damage to it should it ever be harmed.
Perhaps only the Mallku family in South America knew more about the subject. After all, it was their field of expertise.
.
It was almost like any other morning at Hogwarts.
Looking into the mirror, I noticed faint dark circles beneath my eyes.
It seemed I'd pushed myself a little too hard with my studies. Then again, the persistent thought that something could seize control of me at any moment wasn't exactly reassuring.
Setting that aside...
"Why are you awake so early?" I asked as I finished straightening my uniform and glanced down at the dressing table.
Bloom was sitting there, gazing at herself in the mirror as she put the finishing touches on her appearance. She seemed to have woken up in an unusually good mood today.
Bloom: "Isn't it a good thing to be up early? I thought that's what you wanted."
Her words weren't fooling anyone. It wasn't that getting up early was a bad thing, but this was Bloom we were talking about. Even if she wanted to become an early riser, she probably couldn't manage it without a good enough reason.
So all I could do was give her a flat look as I watched her finish fixing her hair in front of the mirror.
"Of course it's good that you're getting up early instead of being lazy, but it can't be as simple as that."
Bloom: "Hmm? I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, I'm ready now. Why don't we get going?"
I watched her for a few moments longer as she flew toward the bedroom door.
Whether she wanted to tell me or not didn't really matter. I'd probably find out soon enough.
So I picked up my expansion bag and followed Bloom out of the room.
I wouldn't be doing any physical training today. I'd scaled it back over the past few days after realizing I wasn't making much progress anymore. I suppose there was only so much stronger the body of a twelve-year-old could become. Even so, the physical strength my body possessed now was already remarkable—at least by human standards.
That meant the only thing left to train, aside from my magic, was my swordsmanship. But even there I had begun reaching a bottleneck, so unless I found a far more capable instructor in the future, I doubted my skill with a sword would improve much further.
Even so, waking up early had become little more than a habit. I usually used that time to study some more. Today, however, I simply wanted to take a walk through the castle and clear my mind.
I had barely taken a few steps outside my room when I heard Steve shout.
Steve: "Ah! Extimum's turned into a zombie!"
Mitchell: "Damn it, I knew it. With that cold expression, it was only a matter of time before the rest of him caught up."
Trudor: "Hmph. Say that when you don't look like one yourself."
Padma: "You're exaggerating. Though... those dark circles... hmm... they do give him a sort of dark aura. But he still looks good. Besides, zombies look... I don't know... deader?"
Not far from the "secret" entrance to my room stood Steve, Mitchell, Trudor, Padma, and Luna.
They all seemed to be in unusually high spirits. Even if nearly all of them had dark circles under their eyes to one degree or another, aside from that their complexions were only a little paler than usual. Whether it was from lack of sleep or simply the morning chill was difficult to tell.
"Why's everyone up so early? I could understand it if it were just Luna or Padma, but you three..."
Mitchell: "Hey, hey, what's that supposed to mean? Don't lump me in with those two. I have to get up early fairly often for Quidditch training and team meetings. They're the only slackers in our group."
Steve: "Hmph. Of course. How else am I supposed to maintain my handsome looks if I don't get enough sleep?" he declared proudly, puffing out his chest and showing off his rather plump figure.
Mitchell: "Oh, spare me."
Steve: "..."
Steve and Mitchell promptly descended into another argument, completely ignoring the point of my question. It wasn't anything new, so I paid them no mind and looked to the others instead.
Luna: "Well, I'd already been here for a while. I was reading a book while waiting for you to come out. They only arrived a few minutes ago, talking about discovering today's surprise."
"Today's...? Oh."
I thought about it for a moment before finally remembering the date. It hadn't meant much to me before, but that could only be it.
Steve: "Ah, right! I was just about to tell you. Knowing you, I figured you wouldn't pay much attention to the date, but today's different from the previous years."
Luna's words seemed to snap Steve and Mitchell out of their argument and remind them of my question, prompting them to hurriedly continue the explanation.
Mitchell: "That's right. Today Lockhart—"
He barely managed to get the words out before Steve clamped a hand over his mouth.
Steve: "Oi! What do you think you're doing? I was the one who found out about it!"
Mitchell: "Mmph! What do you think you're doing shoving your filthy hands over my mouth? Did you even wash them?"
Steve: "..."
And just like that, they were arguing again.
'They seem more energetic than usual... or maybe it's just the stress.'
Padma: "Steve found out Professor Lockhart has a surprise planned for Valentine's Day."
Seeing that Steve and Mitchell were being even more exasperating than usual, Padma decided to explain what they couldn't.
Trudor: "So we got up early to see if we could figure out what the surprise is. Since we knew you'd be awake at this hour too, we waited for you. Though Luna was already here when we arrived, and Padma came down shortly after we did."
Mitchell: "Right. So, are you coming with us?"
"All of you are going?"
Since Luna and Padma were here without Steve and the others having invited them, it seemed worth asking.
Padma: "Hmm... I was actually planning to meet up with my sister and help her with a few things, but I'm curious too, so I'll come along. Besides, I doubt she's awake yet."
Luna: "I was only waiting for you, so I don't really mind."
Luna's answer wasn't surprising. She generally woke up early as well. Whenever she grew bored or simply wasn't sleepy, she'd wait for me and then follow me around wherever I happened to go.
"Well, I wasn't planning on doing anything special this morning either, so let's go."
'Does this have something to do with why you're in such a good mood?'
Bloom: 'Mm... In a way, yes.'
-Bloom had happened to overhear some interesting information while wandering around the castle on her own. Besides being curious and excited to see what Valentine's Day at Hogwarts would be like, she'd also learned something that she was certain would cause quite a bit of chaos.-
Although Bloom remained evasive about the subject, there was a playful hint of mischief—and eager anticipation—hidden beneath her behaviour.
Mitchell: "Right then, I'll lead the way."
Steve: "Why you—?"
Steve was just about to start another argument, but I cut him off with a cold glance that immediately shut him up.
Listening to their childish squabbles could be amusing once or twice, but it quickly became irritating when they carried on like this. Perhaps I'd underestimated the mental strain of the past few weeks.
Padma: "Finally, some peace."
Trudor: "They were like two goblins fighting over a pile of treasure."
Luna silently nodded in agreement. Even she was beginning to grow annoyed with Steve and Mitchell's behaviour.
.
After leaving Ravenclaw Tower, we wandered around the castle for a while, checking the places where preparations for school events were usually kept. We even asked some of the castle's house-elves, but we didn't really uncover anything.
It wasn't particularly surprising. Even if we knew Lockhart was behind the event, Hogwarts was far too large, and aside from a few decorations being arranged in the Great Hall, we couldn't discover what the surprise actually was.
As for me, I didn't have any real expectations. I was simply taking the opportunity to relax by doing something other than studying.
Bloom didn't say a word either. Not long after we began our little investigation, she flew over to Luna's shoulder and spent almost the entire time there. I wasn't particularly interested in forcing her to tell me what she knew.
Padma left after searching with us for a while. She still had to find her sister and help her with a few things.
By then, we were making our way to the Great Hall for breakfast alongside groups of students heading in the same direction.
The hall had been covered in flowers of every kind, all in different shades of pink, while enchanted heart-shaped confetti drifted endlessly from the ceiling.
It wasn't terrible, but neither could it be called particularly pleasing to the eye. How to put it... the decorations were a little over the top, and the colours were so gaudy they became rather unpleasant to look at.
Still, judging by how much livelier the students seemed, it had at least accomplished its purpose.
Although things had calmed down since the last attack, everyone was still deeply worried about the invisible monster.
Luna: "It's beautiful... though perhaps a little too much..." she said, cupping her hands together to catch the heart-shaped confetti drifting down from the ceiling.
Steve: "Ugh... Why are there suddenly so many flowers? When we came by earlier, the place still looked fine. I just hope they don't have pollen. I'm a bit allergic."
Mitchell: "Mate, I think I'm going to start seeing things if I keep looking at these flowers. Don't tell me they've been enchanted?" he said dramatically, leaning against Trudor.
Trudor: "Then stop staring at them and walk faster."
I merely glanced around before making my way towards our usual seats at the table. I'd only just sat down when I heard an unusually cheerful Lockhart announcing something from the staff table.
Lockhart: "Happy Valentine's Day to you all! And may I also thank the forty-five people who have sent me cards..."
Yes, I listened for a few moments before promptly tuning him out. Instead, I began serving myself breakfast. It was remarkable just how much nonsense the man could produce. He truly outdid himself when he shamelessly claimed he'd frightened off the Basilisk. He could be amusing on occasion, but after so much work lately, I simply didn't have the patience to listen to him ramble.
I ignored him until everyone around me suddenly gasped.
Bloom: 'Extimum, look! Dwarfs!'
Pulling my attention away from my breakfast, I looked towards the staff table and found a small crowd of dwarfs standing in front of it. They were dressed in what were supposed to be Cupid costumes, but the outfits simply didn't suit their physiques at all.
They were dwarfs, after all, which meant they were naturally short, but most of them had broad, muscular builds—not to mention rather gruff-looking faces. To make matters worse, it looked as though they'd even shaved off their beards to make them resemble Cupids.
Of course, if you were a dwarf and someone suddenly hired you for a job only to tell you that you had to wear nothing but an oversized nappy-like loincloth with golden wings strapped to your back while carrying either a harp or a bow, you probably wouldn't be very pleased.
Well, at least some of them had been allowed to wear full white robes instead of just the loincloth, but I doubted they were any happier for it.
Lockhart: "So, throughout the day, they will be wandering around the school delivering Valentine's greetings to all of you! And I'm quite sure some of my colleagues will be delighted to lend them a hand. Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to brew a Love Potion? Though I'm sure Professor Flitwick knows more about charms of that sort than any wizard I've ever met".
I had to admit, seeing the expressions on the professors' faces after Lockhart said that was immensely satisfying. It improved my mood considerably.
Trudor: "Hahaha! Snape's face has absolutely made my day."
Steve: "Didn't you see McGonagall? She looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Poor woman has to sit next to Lockhart."
I didn't pay the event much attention after that. Once the initial excitement died down, I went back to my breakfast and chatted with the others until it was time for our first lesson.
But perhaps, if I'd paid a little more attention, I could have spared myself a great deal of trouble.
.
Transfiguration.
McGonagall: "Very well. Make certain your porcupine has been fully transformed before attempting to use it. Otherwise, you will lose House points."
Our first lesson of the morning was Transfiguration.
We continued the exercise from the previous class: transforming a porcupine into a pincushion. It was an exercise that tended to create a few problems for Muggle-born students, though it rarely troubled those raised in the wizarding world.
After all, if you failed to complete the transformation properly and then tried sticking a pin into it... well, it wouldn't be a particularly pleasant experience.
Of course, if you were careful, you could test it by gently removing one of the pins first. At worst, that would only pull out a single quill and was a much safer way to check whether the transformation had worked. Some students, however, were far too impatient and ended up hurting the porcupine instead.
That was why Professor McGonagall did her best to inspect everyone's work in time and deduct points from anyone who injured their porcupine.
Naturally, if the spell had been cast correctly, there was nothing to worry about.
** Pack **
The classroom door suddenly burst open without so much as a knock, and a group of at least four dwarfs marched inside.
Professor McGonagall was visibly irritated by the interruption, but the moment she saw who had entered, her expression shifted into one of quiet resignation.
Dwarf 1: "Ahem, ahem. I've got a letter for Daphne Greengrass."
The instant the dwarf spoke, everyone's attention swung towards Daphne, who looked utterly frozen by the unexpected situation.
Dwarf 1: "Ah, there you are. Right then, allow me to read it to you."
The dwarf strode over to Daphne's desk, unfolded the letter, and prepared to recite it aloud.
Daphne: "Wait, wait! What do you think you're doing? If it's addressed to me, then just hand it over. Don't you dare read it."
Dwarf 1: "I'm afraid I can't do that. I have to read it aloud to ensure the recipient receives both the message and the sender's heartfelt feelings."
Daphne: "Sigh... Fine..."
Daphne had no choice but to reluctantly accept.
Dwarf 1: "Oh, my cold maiden, with hair as golden as yellow rain and eyes as blue as a Cornish Pixie's, your icy voice drives me mad like a mandrake. How I wish you'd love me and fly away with me on my broom."
Dwarf 1: "Oh, my cold maiden, with hair as golden as yellow rain and eyes as blue as a goblin's, your icy voice drives me mad like a mandrake. How I wish you'd love me and fly away with me on my broom."
At first, Daphne managed to keep a straight face, but with every line the dwarf recited, her composure crumbled a little more.
** Giggles **
Daphne did her best to maintain her dignity, but by the end she had buried her face in her hands.
Even Professor McGonagall seemed to be making a tremendous effort to keep a straight face and pretend she wasn't listening to such an embarrassingly dreadful poem.
Steve: "On his broom, eh...? Ow! Padma, what was that for?"
Padma: "Hmph. Extimum told me you only ever think dirty thoughts and that I should hit you whenever you say something strange."
Steve: "What? Extimum, how could you tell Padma something like that? That's betrayal, mate. Besides, I didn't say anything strange." Steve protested, rubbing the top of his head with an aggrieved expression.
I merely rolled my eyes at Steve's complaint. No one was going to believe he wasn't thinking something indecent when he'd delivered the line in such a suggestive tone.
Dwarf 2: "Ahem, ahem. I've got a song for Extimum Izorim."
Dwarf 3: "Oh, so do I."
Dwarf 4: "I've got a letter."
Hearing the remaining dwarfs speak, I frowned slightly and noticed the faintly teasing smile Bloom wore as she lounged lazily on top of the desk.
In an instant, everyone's attention shifted away from Daphne and settled on me instead.
I had to admit I hadn't given this event enough thought. I'd completely forgotten that I happened to have a rather sizeable group of admirers among the female students of various years.
Dwarf 2: "It goes like this—white hair like freshly fallen snow with—"
Before the dwarf could properly begin his song, I gave my wand a swift flick and cast an illusion over the three dwarfs. The spell effectively suppressed every sound within its boundaries—or, more accurately, altered the perception of sound itself inside that area. Illusion magic could behave in rather peculiar ways at times, though it was undoubtedly the most versatile branch of magic at my disposal.
When everyone noticed the sudden silence while the dwarf's mouth continued moving, it didn't take long for the surrounding students to realise I'd somehow silenced the dwarfs. Judging by the unconcealed disappointment on many of their faces, they had clearly been looking forward to hearing the performance.
Of course, I could still hear the dwarfs, but no one else could.
At the very least, I took the time to listen to them. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the gesture, but it simply seemed that young witches and wizards hadn't read much literature. Their imagination when it came to using words was disastrous; they almost seemed to write down the first thing that came to mind.
Things like, "White hair like freshly fallen snow with those beautiful troll-vomit-coloured streaks..." Even I hadn't known troll vomit could be that colour. One of the letters, on the other hand, was rather bold in its declarations; it had clearly been written by an older student. At least that one didn't compare me to anything strange.
McGonagall: "Although I don't teach Charms, I'll award Ravenclaw five points for that excellent display of magic, Mr Izorim."
McGonagall seemed to appreciate my decision to silence the bothersome Cupids.
The dwarfs finished shortly afterwards and left, though not before placing the letters on my desk, which I promptly swept into my expansion bag.
...
The rest of the day was much the same.
I received quite a few visits from the Cupid dwarfs, but with a little magic, no one but me heard the disastrous poems, though I did receive a few that were far more ordinary—and even genuinely romantic.
I'm certain that, had it been anyone else, they would probably have died of embarrassment over the failed poems and songs, and even blushed at those last few letters.
It wasn't as though some people weren't watching me, waiting to see some sort of reaction after noticing that I still listened carefully to every letter I received.
Honestly, it was an interesting and rather amusing experience.
That was, of course, because no one except me could hear what the letters actually said.
I even had to chase Bloom away more than once after she tried to steal a few of the letters from my bag. She was clearly disappointed by how things had turned out.
When I arrived at the Great Hall for dinner, the main topic of conversation was, naturally, the various letters students had sent one another.
"So then, Steve, how many letters did you get?"
Steve: "Hmph. Seems no one's learned to appreciate my beauty yet. Just wait—a few years from now, this magnificent figure of mine will undergo a beautiful transformation, like a butterfly, and become the body of a truly handsome, irresistible man. Then I'll be the one turning them all down."
Mitchell: "Sure. And I'll be captain of the Quidditch team when that happens," he replied sarcastically.
Trudor: "Hahaha! I did get one letter from Rossetta in Hufflepuff and another from Emma Vane in Gryffindor."
The girls Trudor mentioned were both second-years and looked vaguely familiar, so at least everyone at the table knew who he was talking about.
Padma: "What are you so proud of? Extimum must've received at least fifteen letters today."
Luna: "But that doesn't seem like a fair comparison. After all, Extimum is... is special."
Luna had meant to support Trudor, but halfway through she lowered her voice and quietly went back to eating.
Mitchell: "You're right. Extimum's on a completely different level. I only got one letter from a Slytherin girl. Speaking of which, why don't you let us read a few of yours, Extimum?"
"Of course... not. Those letters contain their senders' private thoughts and feelings. How could I be so inconsiderate as to let just anyone read them? That would only diminish their value."
Steve: "Tch, you're no fun."
After that brief exchange, we didn't bring up the letters again.
As for Valentine's Day, it wasn't a celebration I'd ever paid much attention to before today. It was just another day, and the reason for that was fairly obvious. On the other hand, if my observations were correct, having dwarfs deliver letters didn't seem like a particularly romantic experience.
Even if your words were wonderful, no one would call a dwarf's voice especially sweet or moving when paired with such a sugary theme. In reality, today's event was more of a comedy centred around watching everyone else's misery.
With those thoughts in mind, I'd refrained from sending any letters or gifts through that method. As for more conventional means... I had a few ideas I intended to put into practice later.
To begin with, this wasn't an event I'd planned to take part in. However, after receiving multiple letters throughout the day, it seemed I couldn't remain completely uninvolved, so staying entirely on the sidelines no longer felt appropriate.
...
Once I'd finished eating, I simply remained seated, watching the noisy Great Hall as my focus gradually drifted until I was left alone within the silent emptiness of my own mind.
Even though the world continued to unfold before my eyes, from where I sat there was only silence and peace.
It was a feeling—or perhaps a familiar yet unfamiliar memory. I could describe it as the feeling of enjoying the silence of a city late at night, when the constant roar of traffic and the noise of people finally fades away, leaving only the peaceful stillness of a sleeping city beyond the window.
More interestingly, that comparison has no place in my current life.
'Hmm... Should I be having some sort of existential crisis at a moment like this?'
Come to think of it, I'd never really questioned my own existence, the memories I possessed, or my lineage... but dwelling on them too deeply wouldn't have led me to any answers. Even now, I had no idea about any of it.
Nor was it especially important at the moment. Who I am now has nothing to do with who I might once have been. Questioning my existence serves no real purpose, and questioning my lineage won't provide any answers with my current abilities.
That left only curiosity... yes, curiosity.
Perhaps many people in my position would simply choose to forget, but perhaps it's precisely because I feel so detached from the past that remembering it stirs nothing more than curiosity within me.
I was born and raised in this world, so I don't feel like a stranger to it, nor am I completely indifferent towards it. Yet perhaps it's this perspective I sometimes gain from those memories that makes me feel strangely distant from the world.
'Perhaps I should enjoy life a little more?'
But magic itself was already a source of great enjoyment.
Although mastering magic never gave me a sense of empowerment, it did grant me an invisible confidence that grew stronger the greater my understanding and control of the world became. Perhaps that confidence is what leads some wizards to look down on Muggles. Hmm... then again, every living being possesses its own talents.
'Hmm... Well, I've finished writing the last letter. I suppose I can leave these reflections for another time.'
-Invisible to everyone, while Extimum was lost in thought, he guided his tails to write replies to everyone who had sent him a romantic letter that day and had been brave enough to sign it. At the same time, he also took the time to write letters to his friends.
He did not necessarily take a romantic approach, however. After all, aside from Hermione, whom he had barely been able to speak to that day, there was no one with whom he consciously shared a relationship of that nature, so the rest of the letters took on a more friendly tone. Valentine's Day was also a celebration of friendship. As for his male friends... why would he write letters to men on a day like this?
Setting that aside, his main reason for replying to the other letters as well was that, throughout the day, he had been able to explore and sense the emotions of everyone involved around him.
Nervousness, shyness, courage, fear, embarrassment, and even anger.
Extimum had clearly perceived all of those emotions as he watched the recipients, and on occasion he had even unintentionally identified the senders of those letters.
Even if their words lacked refinement, they were not devoid of feeling. Jokes aside, every one of those letters carried genuine emotion, along with the courage it had taken to send them.
So how could he simply ignore all of that with cold indifference? Even if Extimum's temperament was generally aloof and detached when it came to such matters, he could not allow himself to look down on the powerful emotions he sensed from those around him.
That was why he devoted an appropriate reply to each letter. –
"Shall we head back?"
Trudor: "Yes. We've finished eating anyway, and people are already starting to head back to their common rooms."
Mitchell: "But Padma still isn't back. Where's she supposed to have gone?"
Luna: "She said she'd spend a little while with her sister and come back afterwards."
Trudor: "In that case, we should head back first." As he spoke, he took the initiative and stood up from the table.
But Steve stopped him with a hand on his arm.
Steve: "Oi, wait. We should wait for her. If we leave now, she'll have to walk back to the common room on her own, and even though things have been quiet lately, we don't know if that monster is still lurking around."
Steve's words were perfectly reasonable, and most of the group seemed to agree.
Mitchell: "Didn't Lockhart say he'd scared the monster off himself?"
Mitchell's casual remark made everyone stop and stare at him with raised eyebrows.
Mitchell: "Hehehe, don't look at me like that. I was joking—I wasn't serious."
"Either way, Steve's right. We should wait for her, just in case. Besides, I doubt she'll be long. Waiting won't kill us... probably."
I muttered the last part almost under my breath.
Steve: "Yeah, yeah, Extimum's always the voice of reason. Wait... what did you say at the end?"
"I said waiting won't kill us."
Steve: "No, after that."
"Nothing."
Steve narrowed his eyes at my denial.
Steve: "I'm sure you said something else..."
Luna: "Padma's coming. Let's go."
Steve: 'Forget it. It was probably just one of his jokes.'
Padma: "Ah, thank goodness... I thought you'd all left already. For a moment I thought I'd have to walk back on my own."
Trudor: "Right then, let's head back."
Now that Padma was with us again, we got up from our seats and made our way out of the Great Hall.
As we passed through the doors, I lightly tapped my bag, and a flock of paper butterflies in different colours fluttered out from inside before scattering in various directions.
** Swish **
Steve: "Wow."
Three of them, however, did not get very far before stopping.
The butterflies were exquisite pieces of origami, animated with a touch of magic. They had been enchanted to fly to their intended recipient and to allow themselves to be caught only by that person. They also carried a charm that concealed their contents from everyone except the recipient.
Once they landed in their recipient's hands, they would lose their lifelike qualities and become nothing more than ordinary, inanimate letters.
The spells involved were nothing particularly complicated; it was simply a creative use of magic for the occasion.
The three butterflies that stopped nearby naturally belonged to Luna, Padma, and Bloom. Needless to say, Bloom's butterfly was much smaller than the others and almost went unnoticed.
Luna, Padma, and Bloom quickly caught the butterflies hovering before them and brought them closer for a better look.
Mitchell: "What are those paper butterflies?"
Trudor: "They came out of Extimum's magic bag."
Padma was the first to catch hers. As soon as it settled in her hands, it unfolded and transformed into a letter.
Padma: "They're... letters."
Mitchell: "Oh, let me see. Huh? They're blank."
Padma: "Blank? There are clearly words here. Look." She held out the sheet the butterfly had transformed into for the others to see.
Mitchell: "Nope. I can't see anything."
Steve: "Luna, you got one too. Let me have a look."
Luna: "Of course." Luna turned the letter, which she had not yet finished reading, so the others could see it.
Steve: "That one's blank too."
"I made them that way. Only the recipient can read what's written."
Trudor: "Tsk, always so secretive."
Steve: "Oi, where's my letter?"
"These are for women only."
Steve: "Tch, stingy." Steve muttered as he turned around and continued walking.
** Hahaha **
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