Time passed at Hogwarts, and Halloween arrived with its usual spectacle. The Great Hall was filled with drifting pumpkins, steady candlelight, and tables crowded with food that replenished itself as quickly as it was taken.
With the professors declaring the Chamber of Secrets incident resolved, the tension that once gripped the castle had eased into something closer to routine.
At the Slytherin table, Victor sat composed, eating little, his attention distant from the celebration around him.
Draco, beside him, noticed after a while and leaned slightly closer.
"Victor, you seem to not eating well."
Victor didn't look up.
"Eat your own food, Draco. I'm having normal portion. Just because it happened doesn't mean I should eat more. And why did you suddenly drop respect?"
Draco gave a quiet scoff.
"Hmph. We are the same age, so why should I bother? I can just call you by name."
That made Victor glance at him.
"Suit yourself," he said calmly. "At least you are growing in one department. Although in the magic department, you are still not on par with me."
Draco turned to him, clearly annoyed now, his patience thinning.
"Why do you always have to be a jerk?" he asked. "Can't you at least praise me for once?"
Victor looked at him for a moment, then gave a slow, exaggerated nod as if considering it seriously.
"Yeah, you are great, Draco," he said, clapping lightly with a completely straight face. "You are the world's best little brother."
The words sounded like praise.
The tone ruined it.
Draco stared at him, unimpressed.
"That wasn't even remotely convincing," he said flatly.
"Yeah, why would you even expect me to praise you?" Victor said calmly, his tone carrying faint amusement rather than annoyance. "You haven't done anything worth praising yet."
Draco's expression tightened again, clearly not pleased, but before he could snap back, Victor added without changing his tone,
"If you actually achieve something impressive, I might consider it. Until then, lower your expectations."
Draco let out a sharp breath, somewhere between irritation and disbelief, then shook his head slightly as if deciding it wasn't worth continuing. He turned back to his plate again, though the occasional glance he threw Victor made it clear he hadn't let it go entirely.
***
November settled over Hogwarts with a steady chill that crept through corridors and across the grounds. The lake looked darker, the wind sharper, and even inside the castle students moved faster, robes pulled tighter as winter approached.
Victor walked along the corridor at an unhurried pace, hands in his pockets, while beside him Hermione kept her eyes fixed on a thick Transfiguration book, reading as she walked with complete focus.
Victor glanced at it once.
"Hermione," he said, "how many times should I say it? You won't find any answer for my Animagus form in that."
Hermione stopped reading but didn't lower the book immediately.
"That's because what you did shouldn't even be possible," she replied, closing it with a firm snap. "Animagus transformation follows strict rules. It's always a normal animal. What you turned into doesn't fit into any known category."
Victor didn't slow down.
"Rules aren't absolute," he said. "They just describe what most people can do."
Hermione frowned and stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop.
"That's not how magic theory works," she said, her voice tight with frustration. "There are established limits. You don't just ignore centuries of research and say it doesn't apply."
"Then explain it."
Hermione opened her mouth, then paused.
"That's exactly what I'm trying to do," she said, lifting the book slightly. "And don't change the subject. Even becoming an Animagus at all takes years of study. You're twelve. That alone doesn't make sense."
Victor held her gaze for a moment, then answered without hesitation.
"I'm a genius."
Hermione stared at him.
For a second, she didn't say anything.
Then her cheeks puffed slightly in clear annoyance.
"Oh, of course," she said, her voice edged with sarcasm. "Silly me. I forgot I'm just supposed to accept that explanation."
Victor watched her for a second, then the faintest smile slipped through.
"You know," he said, "right now you look like a brown, angry hamster. It makes me want to pinch your cheeks."
He reached out, not seriously—just enough to tease.
Hermione swatted his hand away, but there was no real force behind it.
"Don't," she said, trying to sound annoyed, though it didn't quite land.
Victor's hand paused mid-air for a moment before he pulled it back, still amused.
"You're overreacting," he said lightly.
Hermione let out a small huff and turned away, but she didn't walk off this time. She stayed beside him, holding the book a little tighter, clearly still thinking about everything.
"I'm not overreacting," she said, quieter now. "You just… don't explain anything properly."
"I told you enough," he replied. "The rest isn't in books."
He was about to continue when his gaze shifted toward the courtyard.
A familiar figure stood near one of the trees, completely at ease, as if the cold didn't concern her at all. Her long pale hair moved gently in the wind, and her attention seemed fixed on something invisible above the branches.
Victor's eyes dropped.
No shoes.
He stepped off the corridor and walked toward her, Hermione following after a brief pause, confused but curious.
"Luna," Victor said as he approached, his tone even. "Where are your shoes?"
*****
A/N : 🔥 On Patreon🔥
⚡ A 15-chapter early access is available for those who want to read ahead ⚡
👉 patreon.com/JakeA30