Winter passed quickly, and warm sunlight replaced the bitter winds and snow, spreading across the land.
On a sunny weekend morning, Louis sat in a quiet corner of the courtyard, carving a wooden bird.
After much practice, his carving skills had improved by leaps and bounds. Gone was the clumsy, jerky movement of his knife. In no time, a little bird statue took shape in his hands—so lifelike it seemed to carry a spirit of its own.
Hermione sat nearby with a book, occasionally lifting her head to glance at the wooden bird in Louis's hands.
It was a curious experience. Every time she looked up, the carving had changed significantly. Finally, when Louis carved in its eyes, the little bird seemed almost alive.
"Your craftsmanship is amazing," Hermione praised. "It really looks like it could fly away at any moment."
"Fly away?" Louis chuckled, glancing at her. "Maybe it really can."
Under Hermione's puzzled gaze, Louis placed the finely detailed bird on his palm and draped a piece of magician's cloth over it.
The bird-shaped lump bulged against the cloth, unmoving at first.
"Here, blow on it," Louis said.
Hermione's eyes were full of curiosity. She leaned over and blew gently.
At once, the lump beneath the cloth stirred. The fabric rose and shifted as though something underneath were struggling to break free.
From beneath came faint chirping sounds.
Hermione froze, eyes wide, staring at the cloth in Louis's hand, afraid to miss a single detail.
Louis didn't keep her waiting. He whisked away the cloth, revealing a small bird clutched by its feet in his hand, wings flapping frantically.
It looked exactly like the wooden bird he had just carved.
"Oh my goodness!" Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth in shock. "You really brought it to life!"
The bird, panicked, struggled in his grasp. Though newly born, it carried the instincts and habits of any real bird. All it wanted was freedom.
But even if it escaped, it wouldn't survive long. The "magic cloth," imbued only with a fragment of the Rat Talisman's power, could grant it no more than ten minutes of life. After that, it would turn back into wood.
Louis flipped the cloth and draped it over the bird again. Instantly, the fluttering stopped.
When he pulled the cloth away, the bird had reverted to a wooden carving—but this time, frozen in the very posture of its last desperate moment.
Its wings spread wide, feathers ruffled, tiny eyes filled with fear.
Hermione, of course, didn't notice such details. To her, it was just another one of Louis's tricks.
> [You have deceived a minor witch with magic.]
> [Insignificant.]
> [You gained 100 Trick Points. ]
> [Current total: 104,100 points.]
"Here, it's yours." Louis handed her the carving.
Hermione's eyes lit up. She hugged the little bird to her chest, delighted. "Thank you, Louis!"
"You're welcome."
"By the way, where's the other carving? And the real bird? Where did you hide them?" Hermione glanced at his robes suspiciously. She still believed Louis's trick had involved two carvings and a real bird.
"That's a secret."
Louis winked and tucked away the magician's cloth—a cloth he privately referred to as the Otaku's Happy Cloth.
As for why he called it that… well, that was another story.
Those who know, know.
While Louis and Hermione were chatting about studies, a sneaky little trio scurried past them.
Don't get the wrong idea—this trio wasn't the cannon-fodder trio, nor Malfoy and his lackeys. It was Harry, Ron, and Neville.
Without Hermione, Neville—the timid boy who usually hung back—had naturally slipped into Harry's little group, forming a brand-new trio. That was something Louis hadn't expected.
And what were the three of them sneaking around for? Did they not realize how suspicious they looked?
Louis couldn't help but find it amusing.
They seemed to be heading toward Hagrid's hut…
Could it be the dragon egg had hatched?
Thinking about it, the timing did seem about right.
"Come on, Hermione, I'll show you something interesting," Louis said, turning to her as she fiddled with the wooden bird carving.
"Hm? What are we going to see?" Hermione lifted her head, looking adorably puzzled.
"You'll know once we get there." Louis reached out, but Hermione quickly waved him off.
"Wait, I need to put this carving away first." She pointed to the wooden bird in her hands. "It's too fragile. I'm afraid it might break if I carry it with me."
When Louis had carved it, the bird had been in a compact shape, easy to hold. But after its brief "revival," its posture had shifted to an outstretched pose. The thin wooden supports holding its wings were delicate and easily breakable.
"All right, it's not urgent. I'll wait here," Louis said.
By the time Hermione returned from the dormitory, the newly-formed trio had already come back, looking rather satisfied. Judging by how short their visit had been, they'd probably just taken a quick look at the dragon and then left without hesitation.
How heartless. Even Hagrid, that big softie, deserved a little care.
Louis led Hermione to Hagrid's hut. The dragon had indeed hatched, and the temperature inside had returned to normal.
When they knocked, Hagrid opened the door. Upon seeing Louis and Hermione, he let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh, it's you two. Come in, quick," Hagrid said.
They followed him inside, and Hermione immediately spotted the small dragon strutting proudly on the table.
"That's a dragon?" Hermione gasped. "A real, living dragon?"
"Oi! Keep your voice down, Hermione! I don't want the whole school to know," Hagrid whispered frantically.
But before he'd even finished speaking, the baby dragon let out a piercing screech—far louder than Hermione had been.
"Enough! Stop it, Norbert!" Hagrid hurried over, reaching out a massive hand to pinch the dragon's jaws shut.
"You don't want anyone to know," Louis said, shrugging, "but your secrecy isn't exactly working. I saw Harry, Ron, and Neville heading into your hut earlier."
"When Harry came to ask me about the Philosop—" Hagrid suddenly cut himself off, slapping a hand over his own mouth.
One hand clamping the dragon's snout, the other covering his own mouth—the sight was almost comical.
But big-mouthed Hagrid had once again let something slip that he shouldn't have. Looked like he'd downed another bottle of Veritaserum this morning.
"Did you say Philosopher's Stone?" Hermione asked, half amused. "Don't worry—we already know about it."
"You… you know? How could you possibly know?" Hagrid's eyes widened in shock.
Hermione glanced at Louis. Clearly, she was much better at keeping secrets than Hagrid.
"Prophecy, Hagrid. Did you forget?" Louis pointed at his eyes. "I can see it."
Hagrid's face cleared with sudden realization. "Right, you can see the future…"
And at that, he actually looked relieved—as though having Louis the "seer" around meant it didn't matter if he blabbed or not.
In short, Hagrid had completely given up on keeping secrets.
---
RedX43's Note:
➤ Want More? Read Extra Chapters on Patreon!
➤ [email protected]/RedX43
➤ Thanks for the support! 🙌