Sterling's current feeling was profoundly strange, like trying to grasp smoke with bare hands.
He seemed to be grieving, but this sadness had no memories to anchor it, floating aimlessly in his mind without foundation. The emotion existed in a vacuum, hollow and confusing.
Dumbledore hadn't returned. No news all day, leaving Sterling to wonder if something had gone wrong.
He also hadn't left his dormitory once, just listening to the continuous chiming of his communication badge playing by his ear like a persistent heartbeat. The cheerful sounds from his friends felt distant, muffled by the strange fog in his thoughts.
Robin stayed quietly in its cage, preening its shimmering feathers. Having just met Sterling, with the intelligence Nicolas Flamel had given it, the bird felt far from sufficient to change Sterling's darkened mood.
"Is it evening already?"
Sterling looked at the moon hanging in the star-scattered sky, suddenly realising he hadn't eaten or drunk anything all day. The silver orb seemed larger than usual, casting ethereal light through his frost-covered window.
But strangely, his body felt no discomfort whatsoever. His voice remained steady, without any trace of weariness or hunger pangs.
Sterling didn't know if it was his imagination, but the magic power within his body seemed to be growing stronger, thrumming through his veins like liquid starlight.
"Chirp! Does Robin need to find some food for you?"
Robin flew to the window and asked Sterling with a tilted head, its dark eyes reflecting concern.
Sterling shook his head slowly. He truly had no desire to eat. His stomach felt neither empty nor full, as if suspended in some strange state.
"Maybe I should practise some magic. Forget it, I've practised all day."
Today had indeed been exhausting for Sterling in ways he couldn't fully explain.
Though he'd stayed in bed the entire time, his frequency of magic use was undoubtedly the highest peak of his life. Blue light had danced around his fingers constantly, weaving patterns in the air.
To prevent further forgetting, he'd mastered Scholar of Stars in a single day through sheer desperate focus.
From the moment Dumbledore left his room, he'd discovered his memory was still being invaded by some insidious force.
The name "Andrew Dept." Even when he remembered it now, it would be forgotten again under some invisible influence, like words written in sand before incoming waves.
Sterling thought of magic power, thought of Scholar of Stars and its crystalline clarity.
Scholar Magic possessed two abilities: analysing all things and creating starlight capable of bearing knowledge like vessels.
Sterling could analyse his own condition, but with his current magical proficiency and this forgetting force's overwhelming level, that would take an astronomical amount of time.
But starlight could be converted back to magic power, and magic power bearing knowledge flowed endlessly within his body.
Through this method, Sterling embedded missing memories into his very essence, fighting forgetfulness with pure magical will.
Forgetting continued its relentless assault, but awareness proceeded simultaneously, creating an exhausting mental battle.
However, Scholar of Stars hadn't combined with "Witness of the Author" to form new shapes. Perhaps like Hero's Heart, it needed complete mastery before fully fusing with Origin Magic.
Sterling cast out a strand of magic power. Sky-blue light gathered into a thread, casually forming shapes according to his thoughts like liquid sapphire.
Because Scholar of Stars now ran constantly, Sterling's magic power had completely turned blue, thrumming with celestial energy.
"Chirp! What does Sterling want to do now?"
"I don't feel like sleeping, but there's nothing I want to do either." Sterling's voice carried a hollow note. "Robin, what do you think I should do?"
Robin didn't know if it was its imagination, but it seemed to see two or three silver hairs suddenly sprouting from Sterling's brown locks, though they were instantly covered by his natural colour.
"Chirp! How about night roaming? Nicolas's backup data about Hogwarts students mentions night roaming can relax body and mind!"
"Could you not act so much like an alchemical creation?" Sterling felt an inexplicable discomfort with Robin's tone. "I mean, try to be more like a natural magical creature?"
The artificial cadence grated against something deep in his instincts, as if his very soul rejected things with such obviously manufactured origins.
"Chirp! Robin prioritises Sterling's will. Message received!"
Robin fluttered its wings and landed on Sterling's shoulder, specifically adjusting its size to perfectly occupy his entire right shoulder like a living epaulette.
"Chirp! So is Sterling going?"
"I suppose so. I suddenly want to look at the moon."
For some reason, tonight's moon seemed brighter than any he'd seen before, holding a mysterious attraction that tugged at something primal in his chest.
Sterling pressed his palm against the window glass, feeling refreshing coolness seep through his skin.
"Robin?"
"Chirp! What is it?"
"Am I seeing things? Did you see a black dot flying toward us?"
The speck grew larger against the silver moonlight, moving with purpose through the frigid air.
"Chirp! Impossible, Ravenclaw Tower is Hogwarts' highest... there really is something! Chirp! It's going to crash into us!"
Robin was terrified, while Sterling opened the window with calm curiosity, extending his palm as magic power began gathering in his palm like gathering storm clouds.
"Sterling! We've come to find you!"
Huh?
Seeing the black-haired figure on a broomstick getting closer with a red-haired person clinging behind him, Sterling's brain froze momentarily. Wind whipped through his hair as the pair approached at alarming speed.
"Harry! Prepare to stop quickly. I feel like we're going to crash!"
Ron's voice carried across the night air, tight with barely controlled panic.
"Trust me, Ron. I'll stop exactly one inch from the window!"
Harry truly used his broomstick with stunning perfection. With a graceful tail swing that would make professional Quidditch players weep with envy, he even managed to high-five Sterling's still-extended hand.
"What time is it now?"
Sterling asked, blinking in bewilderment at this unexpected aerial visit.
"Half past nine?" Ron poked his head out from behind Harry, wrapped tightly in a thick scarf that made him look like a multicoloured mummy.
"Then you should know that talking this loudly in the sky after curfew will attract Filch."
Sterling used Transfiguration to transform the window frame into a door, opening it wide to let the two wind-battered boys covered in snow tumble inside like frozen refugees.
Fortunately, Ravenclaw Tower was high enough that even if Filch could hear their voices, he couldn't make out words clearly. Otherwise he could march straight to Professor McGonagall and dock points from Sterling and Harry for their midnight adventure.
They'd actually said their names out loud, the reckless idiots.
"So tell me, why did you come flying over in the middle of the night?"
Sterling didn't notice that Harry and Ron's boisterous intrusion had chased away all the empty, floating sadness in his heart like sunlight burning through morning mist.
"Because you...!"
Ron was elbowed silent by Harry, who looked at his friend with exasperated fondness. Though he was also a brainless little lion, Terry had specifically warned them Sterling might be in a terrible mood.
Could Ron get the answer wrong even when copying homework?
"Sterling! Merry Christmas. We haven't told you yet, but thank you for your gifts. We absolutely love them, right, Ron?"
Ron received another strategic elbow before recovering, looking at Harry with wounded dignity. There'd been too much Quidditch training lately. Harry's elbows had developed dangerous precision!
But he still agreed with only mild resentment.
"Merry Christmas. We've been using the communication badges all day, chatting for hours. It's hard to imagine you could achieve this level of alchemy after less than a year of studying. No, if it's you, it's not strange at all."
Ron felt Sterling being a genius was simply natural law. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Alchemy. Whatever other miraculous identity Sterling revealed, Ron wouldn't bat an eye.
There were always unreasonable geniuses in this world, weren't there?
Hearing them mention Christmas gifts, Sterling suddenly felt heat rise in his cheeks. He hadn't opened their presents yet, too lost in his strange melancholy.
"Ah, I also really like your gifts..."
Obviously, with Harry's keen Seeker eyes, he wouldn't miss the unopened gift packages still sitting exactly where the house-elves had placed them. This clearly indicated Sterling's condition was worse than they'd feared.
Harry couldn't comfort people to save his life. In Utopia's seven-person group, probably only Padma and Terry had unlocked that particular skill.
But Gryffindor had their own methods of healing wounded hearts.
"Sterling, want to have an exciting Christmas night tour?" Harry suggested with infectious enthusiasm, his green eyes bright with mischief.
"Chirp! We were planning to night roam anyway."
Robin suddenly landing on Harry's shoulder startled him initially, but soon both boys were holding the magnificent bird with starry-eyed wonder.
"Such a beautiful robin, and it can even talk!"
"Mr Nicolas Flamel gave it to me." Sterling explained briefly. Obviously they'd forgotten Hagrid's accidental revelation in his hut and showed no special reaction to the famous name.
"So beautiful! Oh right, Sterling, look at my treasure!"
Harry carefully extracted something from his robes' inner lining, handling it like spun moonbeams. A mass of flowing silver silk cascaded from his hands.
"Invisibility Cloak!" Harry proudly displayed it to Sterling, draping the shimmering material over his arm. Sterling's eyes widened as Harry's limb vanished completely.
Sterling knew about Invisibility Cloaks from Terry's night roaming suggestions, but seeing one in person was entirely different. The fabric seemed to drink light itself.
"Don't know who sent it to me, but the note said it belonged to my father."
Harry's voice carried a mixture of wonder and wistful longing that made Sterling's chest tighten with sympathy.