Dinner time, Gryffindor long table.
Neville, Seamus, and Dean arrived early at the Great Hall.
Neville sat restlessly, frequently glancing towards the door until he saw Harry and Ron appear.
The two were carrying a large pile of things in their clothes.
"Hey! Neville! Come help!" Ron called out, his voice filled with excitement.
Neville quickly trotted over and took some of the items.
"Didn't you go to Hagrid's? These are..."
"Hagrid was too enthusiastic!" Ron grinned, pulling out something that looked like a cake. "Look! Rock Cakes! Hagrid baked them himself! Try one!"
Neville looked at the overly bright, even somewhat familiar, smile on Ron's face—like a prank from Nios—and his heart sank.
He hesitated, then picked the smallest piece and cautiously took a bite.
"Crunch!"
The sharp pain in his teeth and the granite-like hardness made him instantly gasp, his entire face scrunching up.
"Pfft—hahaha!" Ron burst into a joyful laugh, clearly very satisfied with Neville's reaction.
Neville clutched his teeth, painstakingly putting the "weapon" back on the table: "You...you can enjoy it yourself, Ron."
"No way! Good things must be shared!" Ron was laughing so hard his eyes were barely visible, and he quickly pulled out a few more pieces and stuffed them into Neville's hand. "Here, take these for Seamus and Dean to try too!"
Seeing the undisguised mischief on Ron's face, Neville sighed helplessly. He had no choice but to brace himself and pick two "relatively" softer Rock Cakes, then walked towards Seamus and Dean, who were still some distance away.
Ron had laughed enough and turned to Harry, who had been silent beside him: "Hey, what's wrong with you? You've been out of it since we got back from Hagrid's; I was the only one talking on the way."
Harry seemed to be talking to himself, yet also asking: "I'm wondering... whether to accept Nios's invitation... and also, Hagrid... is he hiding something?"
Ron slung an arm around Harry's shoulder and shook him hard: "Hey! Buddy! Don't overthink it by yourself! Nios said he wouldn't rush us. As for Hagrid..." He shrugged. "Adults always have things they don't want us to know. Really want to know? Let's discuss it together after dinner! Don't keep it to yourself, we're friends, right?" Ron's smile held a reassuring frankness.
Harry felt a slight warmth in his heart. A childhood of living under someone else's roof had made him accustomed to bearing burdens alone; this feeling of "shoulder-to-shoulder" was both unfamiliar and precious.
Just as their eyes met, silently conveying the unspoken understanding of "long live friendship," a jarring voice lazily drifted from behind them:
"Tsk tsk tsk... As expected of England."
Harry, who grew up in the Muggle world, instantly understood the implication, and his face flushed crimson.
Ron, on the other hand, looked bewildered: "Huh? What did you say?"
"Don't talk nonsense! Ron and I are just friends!" Harry quickly defended, the tips of his ears turning red.
The cartoon eyes on Nios's eye patch curved into mischievous crescents, and he deliberately drew out his words: "Right! 'Friends!'"
He purposefully emphasized the word "friends" and then strolled into the Great Hall with an arrogant stride.
"Nios! Explain yourself! Why did you emphasize that word?!" Harry chased after him, both embarrassed and annoyed.
Ron, left standing there, was even more confused. He scratched his head, just as Hermione, whose hair was several times more voluminous than usual, like a dandelion, trudged over.
"Hermione? What exactly did that Nios mean?" Ron quickly asked.
Hermione weakly lifted her eyelids, her voice tired: "He means that you and Harry have a special relationship that goes beyond friendship."
After speaking, she walked directly to the very end of the long table and sat down.
Ron stood rooted, his brain working rapidly.
A special relationship that goes beyond friendship? What kind of relationship? He subconsciously scanned the Great Hall, his gaze coincidentally catching a senior couple walking in hand-in-hand.
Boom—!
Ron's face instantly turned redder than his hair.
"Nios!!! Harry and I are not like that!!!" A thunderous roar erupted at the Great Hall entrance, drawing countless eyes.
Ron, his face bright red, stormed inside angrily.
By this time, Nios had already ignored Harry and Ron's protests behind him and strolled over to Neville's side.
Seamus and Dean were gathered around Neville, jokingly "condemning" him for his "Rock Cake prank."
"Hey, gentlemen," Nios's voice cut in, "may I borrow our Mr. Longbottom for a moment?"
Seamus and Dean paused, seeing it was Nios, and instinctively stopped their "denunciation."
They knew he was the core of the "fivesome."
"Nios, you really need to talk to Neville," Seamus pointed at the remaining Rock Cakes on the table, complaining half-jokingly, "He actually disguised stones as cake and gave them to us to eat!"
Ron, quick-witted, immediately pulled a huge Rock Cake from his pocket and presented it to Nios like a treasure: "This is it! Nios, you must try it! 'Hagrid's Special!'"
Under the curious or gloating gazes of everyone, Nios calmly took the cake that looked like it could kill someone.
Then, to everyone's astonished gaze—
Crunch! Crunch! Crack! Crack!
A teeth-grinding sound, like a rock crusher at work, filled the air.
Nios, expressionless, bit, chewed, and swallowed the incredibly hard Rock Cake as if it were a biscuit.
The entire process was fluid and astonishingly fast.
In the blink of an eye, the "stone" disappeared into his mouth.
Nios brushed off imaginary crumbs from his hands, his tone as flat as if he were evaluating plain water: "Tastes good. Any more?"
A dead silence fell over the surroundings.
Seamus, Dean, Neville, and even the few curious little Gryffindors peeking around, were all dumbfounded, petrified on the spot.
Nios glanced at his classmates, whose jaws were about to drop to the floor, and shrugged indifferently: "Well, we're going to eat anyway."
He turned, his gaze precisely locking onto the Slytherin long table.
The little snakes, who had been whispering moments before, seemed to have been collectively silenced by a Mute Charm, each quickly lowering their heads, beginning to intently study the wood grain of the tabletop.
Nios walked directly behind Draco Malfoy.
Before Draco could turn back in horror, Nios's hands, quick as lightning, slipped under his armpits and he exerted force—
"Whoa!"
Draco gasped, and he was effortlessly lifted over Nios's head like a little chick!
If Muggles saw this scene years later, they would surely shout "Simba"!
Goyle and Crabbe instinctively tried to stand up and stop him, but Nios merely tilted his head slightly, his "gaze" from under the eye patch sweeping coldly over them, his voice not loud but carrying an invisible pressure: "You two... which family are you from?"
These words were like a splash of ice water; Goyle and Crabbe instantly froze, like two quails targeted by a bird of prey, quickly shrinking back into their seats, their heads buried even lower than before, not daring to even breathe.
"Put me down! Chaos! Put me down! I can walk myself! Please! Put me down!!!" Draco struggled futilely in Nios's grip, his voice tearful and filled with unprecedented terror.
His meticulously styled blonde hair was disheveled, and his pale face was flushed with shame and anger.
Nios paid him no mind, simply holding Draco, who flapped like a freshly caught silverfish, as he walked through the Great Hall as if no one else was there, under the scrutiny of all the young Wizards—some shocked, some stifling laughter, some gloating—and returned to the Gryffindor long table, beside Harry and the others.
He ignored the focused gazes of the entire Great Hall and announced to the three stunned individuals: "Come sit over here with me. I've secured us some 'meal supplements.'"
Harry and the other two exchanged glances, as if under the Imperius Curse, mechanically following Nios to the very end of the long table, next to where Hermione was sitting.
"Hermione," Nios said in a cheerful tone, as if he were holding a bag of potatoes instead of Draco, "We're back. Look, I even brought you some Slytherin 'local specialties.'"
Hermione curled herself into a ball, her bushy brown curls almost burying her entire face, like an overly startled Pygmy Puff.
Her only wish at that moment was to learn Apparition and then leave this planet that made her so embarrassed her toes curled.
And Draco, held aloft by Nios like a trophy, his pale skin had turned as red as a boiled lobster.
He looked up in despair at the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling, trying to block out the stares and whispers coming from all directions.
He even began to seriously consider the possibility of immediately transferring to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, and whether Nios would, on some sunny afternoon in the future, directly "visit" Malfoy Manor...
Nios finally took pity and lowered the almost-fainting Draco, pressing him into an empty seat opposite Neville.
Draco slumped disconsolately onto the hard bench, and when he looked up, he met Neville's large eyes, full of sympathy and... pity.
Under the immense shame and Nios's invisible pressure, Draco's brain completely shut down.
He gave Neville an extremely bright smile, not knowing if it was to maintain a noble facade or if he had simply broken.
Neville clearly saw a single, glistening tear, uncontrollably sliding down Draco's cheek at the edge of that overly bright smile.