During the usual SSC activity period, Neville stood at his desk. In front of him, a fluffy yellow chick trembled uneasily, its bead-like black eyes darting over the tabletop in search of food.
"Snufflifors!"
Neville recited the incantation for the Transfiguration spell, tapping the chick's back with his wand. The little bird twitched on the desk, its body twisting as though kneaded by invisible hands.
A few seconds later, the chick had turned into a mole with two wings. Looking confused, it flapped awkwardly while still moving nimbly with its four paws.
"Failed again…"
Neville drooped his shoulders, muttering in frustration: "My Transfiguration is still this awful."
Wade sighed.
He could easily tutor spells that required precision in incantations and wandwork—like Charms or Defense Against the Dark Arts—but when it came to subjects like Transfiguration, which depended heavily on the wizard's own mental focus, there was little he could offer.
"You're too tense, Neville."
Wade flicked his wand to turn the winged mole back into a chick, then said: "The key to changing species lies in imagining the essence of the target creature, forming a mental connection with it. Success depends on your concentration."
"…Concentration?"
Under Wade's gentle gaze, Neville only grew more nervous. He tried hard to picture a mole in his mind, but the more he focused, the clearer the image of the winged mole became.
Wade soon noticed Neville's breathing turn shallow. Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead, and his eyeballs rolled rapidly beneath his eyelids.
Suddenly, Wade reached out and tapped Neville on the forehead. Startled, the boy's mental image shattered instantly. He blinked his round eyes in confusion at Wade.
"Stop thinking about it. Go take a break," Wade said. "Successful Transfiguration will come to you naturally when you're relaxed."
"But…"
"Go rest."
"…Alright." Neville hesitated, casting Wade a doubtful look before lowering his wand and heading toward the rest area of the Umbrella Room.
Michael was busy building a new nest for his doll pet. When he saw Neville approach, he immediately called: "Pass me that board, Neville!"
"Okay." Neville handed him a thin plank and asked, "You're building a little house?"
"Exactly!" Michael said cheerfully. "I finally saved up enough allowance to buy this three-story house! Look—"
He proudly displayed tiny cabinets no larger than his thumb, with drawers even smaller than a fingernail that slid open effortlessly.
Michael: "Once it's assembled, every piece of furniture inside will be usable by Pippin. Isn't that amazing?"
In his pocket, the fox doll Pippin poked out its head and its eyes gleamed with anticipation at its new home.
The magic dolls sold by Aslan's Workshop could each have different personalities, but they all shared one common trait: a deep longing and love for their own "nest."
When those delicate little creatures tilted their heads up, clung to their owner's fingers, and gazed at them with shining, worshipful eyes—softly begging for a beautiful new home—almost no owner could resist.
From what Wade knew, the sales of accessories for magic dolls had already far surpassed the sales of the dolls themselves.
Some of the tiny outfits were even more expensive than Hogwarts uniforms, and many miniature "nests" cost enough to buy a dozen wands at Ollivander's. Yet even so, plenty of buyers were still willing to spend lavishly.
That was why, recently, Marchionne was preparing to promote a batch of miniature doll pets through a lottery giveaway, to further expand the market.
"Wade!"
Harry suddenly pushed open the door, wearing an expression as though he had just swallowed a doxy, and walked straight toward Wade. "You didn't go to Transfiguration today."
"Yeah," Wade said curiously. "Didn't you know? Sometimes I sit in on other years' classes. And today's lesson was turning guinea fowl into guinea pigs, right? I've already mastered that."
Harry took a deep breath, as if bracing himself to drop a bombshell, and said heavily:
"So you don't know… we can't go home for Christmas. The school's holding a ball. And we have to wear dress robes."
Wade glanced around at the others in the umbrella room. "I already heard. If you'd come ten minutes earlier, you could've seen Michael bouncing all over the room."
"Hey, Wade! I only spun around twice at most!"
Michael, who was busy furnishing his doll's house, immediately turned his head and protested loudly.
"And there's something else…" Harry's expression grew even more grave. "As one of the champions, you have to invite a partner… Traditionally, the ball begins with the champions dancing with their dates."
He looked at Wade, hoping to see the same collapse on his face as he himself felt. That would at least make him feel better, knowing he wasn't the only one suffering.
And Wade hated social gatherings even more than he did, didn't he? Rumor had it he rarely even joined Ravenclaw's own events.
But to Harry's disappointment, Wade didn't look shocked at all. He merely stroked his chin and said: "A dance partner, huh… Then it's best to invite someone early, before everyone else is already taken."
"You… you…" Harry asked in disbelief, both disappointed and surprised: "Do you even know how to dance?"
"I know a little… Didn't the school plan on teaching us?" Wade asked.
Harry shook his head dejectedly. "Didn't hear Professor McGonagall mention it."
Wade blinked in puzzlement. He vaguely remembered that Professor McGonagall did teach them how to dance… but perhaps he was mistaken.
"That's fine. If you don't know, I can teach you," Wade said generously. "Have you decided who you want to invite?"
"I…" Harry's face turned bright red, though he tried to act casual. "I haven't decided yet…"
"Alright then." Wade gave him a look and repeated, "But remember what I said, Harry—if there's someone you want to ask, do it early, before someone else does."
"…Got it."
Harry nodded absentmindedly. He had originally wanted to ask who Wade planned to invite, but at that moment he completely forgot, and wandered distractedly out of the room.
Michael, however, turned back and asked, "Wade, who are you planning to invite as your partner?"
"Hmm…"
Wade hesitated.
He had been considering asking Hermione or Padma. If either of them didn't already have a partner, he was confident they wouldn't turn him down.
But then he thought again—attending a ball together was a bit too ambiguous. They were all close friends, spending time together day after day. If extra feelings were mixed into that, it might spoil the friendship.
So he shook his head and said: "Haven't decided yet."
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