One had to admit, this was a bit cruel to Tom.
Wayne walked over to the two girls. They had already made friends with Hestia and could now interact with her more easily.
Cho was holding Diana in her arms, while Hermione had transformed her wand into a comb and was brushing Hestia's mane.
"Ah! So soft and smooth!" That was Hermione.
"Ah, so fluffy—this is fun." That was Wayne.
You pet my horse, I pet your head.
How utterly shameless.
"Shall we go?"
It was almost two in the morning, and although Hermione and Cho were yawning, neither was willing to leave.
Wayne was helpless.
It wasn't like they'd never see each other again—no need to act like it was goodbye forever.
"Take tomorrow off to rest. I'll bring you here again the day after."
Hearing Wayne's promise, the two finally stood up and said goodbye to the unicorns.
Once they disappeared into the dense shrubs, the three of them headed back toward the castle.
"The Forbidden Forest even has unicorns," Hermione murmured. "Are Hestia and Diana the only ones?"
"No," Wayne shook his head. "I asked Hestia—there are probably over a dozen unicorns in the Forbidden Forest. But they aren't herd animals; they actually prefer to live apart."
"How did you find them?" Cho asked curiously.
"Ho-Oh found them. I come by often to visit, and after a while we got familiar."
Wayne didn't tell them the whole truth—after all, the real story involved danger and bloodshed.
Telling them would only make them worried or upset, so he kept it to himself.
Luckily, neither girl pressed the matter.
They emerged from the forest and were just approaching the hidden passage they'd used earlier when Hermione suddenly burst out laughing.
Noticing Wayne and Cho's puzzled looks, she quickly waved her hands in explanation.
"I just remembered… unicorns only let pure young maidens get close, but Wayne…"
At that, Hermione laughed again. Even Cho's lips curled in amusement as she gave the boy a teasing look, waiting for him to be embarrassed.
To their surprise, Wayne wasn't annoyed—instead, he nodded thoughtfully.
"You're right. I should talk to Dumbledore about moving into the girls' dormitory."
"You wouldn't dare!"
The two girls shouted in unison, and Wayne frowned.
"Hey, you're the ones who brought it up. I think it makes sense."
"Pervert!" Hermione huffed, giving him a shove. "Go to bed already, I'm exhausted."
Cho also gave him a sidelong glare with those calm, water-like eyes.
The three climbed back through the blank portrait frame into the school.
As luck would have it, Mrs. Norris was staring straight at them as they emerged.
Both Hermione and Cho went pale.
"What do we do? Filch will catch us!"
"Don't be afraid—Mrs. Norris doesn't tattle… right?"
Wayne crouched down and rubbed the cat's head.
Mrs. Norris was a Norwegian Forest Cat, with large ears and thicker fur than most cats—soft and pleasant to touch.
"Meow~"
"How did you do that?" Hermione was astonished.
Mrs. Norris wouldn't go near anyone except Filch. She wouldn't even take food from students, much less allow herself to be petted.
"I'm a Hufflepuff—being good with animals is normal for me."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Wayne was the least "Hufflepuff" Hufflepuff she'd ever met.
After seeing the unicorns once, the two young witches had completely fallen in love with the beautiful creatures.
Even if it meant breaking school rules, they went to the Forbidden Forest every other day to visit Hestia and her daughter—oh, and Ho-Oh too.
Meanwhile, the other students at Hogwarts were just as restless.
Next weekend, the Quidditch season was set to begin.
As the undisputed number one sport in the wizarding world, Quidditch's popularity never waned.
The opening match would be Slytherin versus Gryffindor—only adding fuel to the fire.
Even the professors were drawn into the rivalry.
Snape had granted Slytherin exclusive use of the Quidditch pitch for three days straight, leaving Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood fuming.
He could only watch helplessly as Slytherin's Marcus Flint monopolized the field, lounging around and joking with his teammates.
As the Weasley twins put it, Flint was basically a troll's son—and a perfect preview of what Crabbe might grow into.
Inside the castle, tensions were just as high. Every Quidditch player had a few classmates acting as bodyguards.
Except the Weasley twins—getting them to not stir up trouble was already a blessing.
And every meal the players ate had to be tasted first to make sure it wasn't tampered with.
The whole spectacle left Wayne wide-eyed in disbelief.
"Do we really need to be this cautious?"
"You're still too young," Cedric said, giving Wayne a knowing pat on the shoulder like an older, more experienced player.
"Last term, during the match against Slytherin, Walter Ray missed the whole thing because of food poisoning."
"No way," Wayne blurted out, unable to hold back a curse. "That's messed up! Didn't you report it to the professors?"
"Of course we did," Cedric sighed helplessly. "But there was no proof, and with Snape backing them up, it all got swept under the rug."
"Tch." Wayne shot a disdainful glance toward the staff table at Snape.
Snape, catching Wayne's stare, looked back in puzzlement.
What? I haven't even settled accounts with you yet, and you're already looking down on me?
Just you wait till Tuesday night.
Snape gave a quiet snort. In his mind, he was already deciding which potion he'd use to make Wayne's life difficult next week.
"Cedric, I've got a little job for you."
As much as Wayne was exasperated by Slytherin's antics, a Galleon was still a Galleon, and money was innocent. He leaned in and whispered at length into Cedric's ear. Cedric's expression grew more and more peculiar until, finally, he said:
"Wayne… serves you right for making money."
Saturday dawned bright but cold, the Great Hall filled with the mouth-watering aroma of roasting sausages.
Everyone was eager for an exciting Quidditch match—but not too long of one. If a game dragged on, it could drive people mad.
The longest recorded Quidditch match in history had lasted three months. By the end, both teams had gone completely insane and abandoned the Snitch entirely. Several expectant mothers in the stands even ended up giving birth during the game.
At Hogwarts, matches never lasted that long, but there had once been a record-breaking game that ran for seven straight days. Most spectators could only pop in when they had the time—and the moment the Snitch was finally caught, at dawn on the seventh day, not a single spectator was awake to see it.
By eleven o'clock that morning, nearly the entire school had gathered in the stands around the Quidditch Pitch. Many students brought binoculars; the seats were more than ten meters above the ground.
Slytherin and Gryffindor supporters shouted themselves hoarse cheering for their own houses, while Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs sat back to enjoy the spectacle.
Bang!
A billow of massive green smoke erupted, twisting into the shapes of a giant serpent and a lion over the Slytherin stands. The serpent bared its fangs and swallowed the lion in one bite.
The Slytherin students roared in triumph as if they had already won the match.
The smoke didn't dissipate—it hung there, looming over their heads, a constant reminder that they had the upper hand over Gryffindor.
Ron was not impressed.
"Why didn't we think to prepare something like that?"
Hermione, overhearing his complaint, rolled her eyes.
"Because we don't have the budget, Ron!"
~~----------------------
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