After their visit to Hagrid's hut, Lynn, Hallie, and Autumn slipped back into a relatively calm school routine.
Even though Hagrid had finally provided the name of the person who framed him, information about Tom Riddle was still frustratingly scarce.
All they managed to find was this:
He had once been an exceptionally brilliant student at Hogwarts. In the Trophy Room, there were five or six trophies engraved with his name.
The most ironic part?
He'd even received both the Award for Special Services to the School and the Outstanding Merit Medal—all because he'd accused Hagrid and pointed out the "culprit."
But after he left Hogwarts, his trail vanished completely.
Ordinarily, someone that gifted—someone who shone so brightly during his school years—would have made waves after graduation. Either he would have become an academic star, or he would have climbed the Ministry ranks at lightning speed.
He had plenty of admirers, especially among pure-blood families. With that kind of support and his natural charisma, success should have come easily.
Yet… nothing. A complete blank.
The investigation hit a dead end, and with final exams getting closer, Hallie and Autumn had no choice but to pause the search. Their professors were piling on assignments, and everyone felt like they were drowning.
Hallie, especially, was busier than Lynn. The Quidditch finals were just days away. She squeezed in extra team practices, studied late, and still made time for her brewing lessons.
After all, she'd promised Snape she would enter next year's Potion's Cup, and that meant giving up several hours every weekend for extra tutoring.
But she wasn't the only one who had changed.
Lately, Lynn's roommates had started looking at Neville differently.
Not because he suddenly turned into a classroom prodigy…
But because over the few months since Christmas, the chubby round-faced boy had visibly slimmed down.
Neville's face was still round, sure—but now you could actually see his jawline. His once snug school robes now hung loosely on him, though the fact that he'd grown several inches helped balance things out.
"Neville, why are you suddenly trying to lose weight?"
One night, after Neville stepped out of the shower wearing only shorts, Seamus stared at him up and down.
"You've even got abs now?! Are you serious?"
He reached out and patted Neville's stomach. The old pudgy jiggle had been replaced with solid muscle lines.
"Just training a bit." Neville grinned sheepishly as he pulled on a long-sleeved shirt. Spring might've arrived, but with British weather being what it was, short sleeves were never guaranteed.
"If you trained a few hours every day too, Seamus, you'd—oh. Well, you already are that thin."
"That's because I'm skinny!" Seamus pulled up his shirt and poked at his ribs. "See? Just skin and bones!"
"But you— you're built now! If you punch me once, I swear I'll drop dead."
"Hahaha!" Dean burst out laughing. "Neville would definitely kneel down crying, begging you not to die."
Then he nudged Seamus.
"Isn't it obvious? When a guy suddenly develops incredible willpower, starts working out, and tries to better himself… he definitely has a crush."
"So, Neville… who are you planning to confess to?"
"Parvati? Or… well, the only pretty first-year girls in our House are Parvati and Hallie."
"Could be someone from the other Houses. Parvati's sister is in Ravenclaw, right? And Hufflepuff has a couple of cute girls this year."
Neville's face turned pink. He shook his head quickly.
"No… it's not… I'm not planning to confess to anyone…"
"I just…"
"Lynn gave me a Christmas gift. He said I had talent in a certain area. And if I wanted to someday become stronger than my parents… learning this could help a lot."
"Secret training?!"
Seamus and Dean exchanged excited looks, immediately flanking Neville and throwing their arms over his shoulders.
"What kind of secret training? Show us!"
"It's nothing dramatic…"
"Lynn found me a special teacher. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick arranged practice partners for me."
Neville grabbed a belt from his bed. Attached to it was a small holster. He reached inside and pulled out a sleek, futuristic-looking short blade.
"This is the Dragonblade—Lightning Edge. Lynn said it has some sort of built-in computer… and radar… and that anyone using it can become a master swordsman. But it has limited energy. For training, I can only use it for about an hour."
Neville twirled the blade expertly; he had clearly practiced a lot.
"But don't worry—there's no sharp edge. Lynn said it's basically a 'child-safe training toy.'"
"A training toy?"
Dean's face twisted. "What kind of child gets handed a knife?! Are they raising a swordsman—or an assassin?"
"But Neville… we're wizards. We use wands. Are you planning to… run up and cut people?"
Seamus tapped the blade curiously. It didn't seem magical.
"Try casting something at me."
Neville stepped back. "Stand by the wall and throw a spark or something."
"Alright!"
Seamus and Dean backed up, buzzing with excitement.
"We'll use sparks. Real spells might be too much. My spells don't explode anymore anyway."
After fixing his carelessness problem, Seamus had gotten much better at not blowing himself up in class.
"Neville, you ready?"
"Ready!"
Neville gripped the Lightning Edge with his left hand. He didn't turn it on; when activated, the blade would glow with yellow energy. Even uncharged, the alloy was tougher than steel but incredibly light.
"Then—take this!"
A burst of red sparks shot from Seamus's wand.
With a flash of blade—
The sparks shattered midair.
"WHOA!!!"
Seamus and Dean yelled in amazement. Sparks flew almost as fast as spells, and yet Neville sliced right through them.
"It's nothing. I can only hit about three at once."
"I don't believe it!" Dean shouted. "Let me try too!"
"Sure."
The shy Neville of the past was long gone. Training had given him confidence—and it showed.
"Alright, here we go!"
Dean and Seamus both fired sparks.
Neville didn't budge. With one clean motion, he sliced every spark apart.
"What are you doing?!"
The dormitory door swung open. Ron stood there frozen, mouth open.
"Neville can block spells with a sword, Ron!"
"It's super cool! Super incredible! Come try—shoot a spark at him. He says he can block three!"
"I'm doing it!"
Ron rushed over, drew his wand, and stood beside the others. Neville prepared himself across the room.
"Ready—GO!"
Two bursts of sparks shot out. Neville sliced them cleanly again.
"Huh?" Seamus frowned. "Ron, what are you doing?"
All eyes turned toward Ron.
He blushed.
Opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Said nothing.
"…Lame."
Ron scowled, shoved his wand into his pocket, slammed the bathroom door behind him, and disappeared inside—no one could tell if he needed to pee or cry.
"…Did Ron forget how to cast the Firework Charm (Flagro Chromatique)?"
"Or maybe he suddenly got a stomachache?" Dean guessed. "It comes right after the Lumos lessons—there's no way he forgot it… right?"