The living conditions at Hogwarts were definitely much better than at the College of Winterhold. Back in World I, Skyl also felt the pleasant mood of someone returning home.
As spellcasters equally unwelcome among ordinary people, the wizards of the Harry Potter world lived far more at ease than the mages of the College of Winterhold. Everyday life in the wizarding world was more colorful and wondrous, without that cold, ascetic air that clung to the College.
Skyl gave himself a little vacation; at heart he was still a modern man and had never really gotten used to living in the world of The Elder Scrolls.
Not that Hogwarts Castle itself was any more modern in style than the College of Winterhold.
Going for a run along the Black Lake every morning was a habit Skyl had only developed after coming to Hogwarts. As a mage, he sometimes felt his body was far too frail.
With his current abilities, creating a divine body for himself would be no difficult task. But Skyl had no intention yet of discarding the original body his parents had given him; it wasn't as if it didn't work. And a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old boy's body was supposed to be healthy and full of energy—something he ought to treasure all the more.
So if he had no classes scheduled—or simply didn't feel like going to class—he would go to the Room of Requirement to work out. Only after finishing his daily training plan would the now-idle Skyl consider going to the library to read or sitting in on a lesson.
Among the fifth-years, Skyl was probably the only one so relaxed, because all the other little wizards were busy preparing for their O.W.L.s. Failing to earn the certificates would have a big impact on their future jobs. Wizards had to put food on the table too, after all.
Skyl always carried a bag of assorted sweets in his pocket. He didn't actually eat candy himself, but he often handed it out to his classmates. Over time, everyone started calling him "Candy-Man Skyl". It was really just a habit left over from his old days as a teacher, using sweets as rewards; they weren't worth much, but they were enough to make primary and middle-school kids happy for a while. Now, whenever he saw someone, his hand would automatically dip into his pocket and pass over a handful of sweets.
The various sweets from Honeydukes in Hogsmeade were not only delicious, but most of them also had some kind of magical effect—it was great fun.
Students at Hogwarts were only allowed to go to Hogsmeade on certain weekends once they reached third year, and even then only with a guardian's signed permission slip. Skyl had Gally run errands there for him instead. Because of that, a lot of the younger wizards saw him as someone really capable. After all, to have gotten hold of such good stuff on the very first day of term had to mean he'd secretly slipped out of the castle. Everyone always held a kind of solemn respect for the big brother who broke school rules to benefit his mates.
On Friday evening, while they were eating in the Great Hall, Ron's twin older brothers came over to find Skyl and asked if he'd also found a secret passage leading out of the school.
Skyl quite honestly said he hadn't, and pointed behind the twins. Model student Percy had somehow turned up there without anyone noticing, and when he heard that his two younger brothers had not only been out wandering at night but had used a secret passage to sneak off school grounds, his expression grew as dark as a thundercloud.
"Uh-oh, we're in for it now."
"You don't think good little Percy is going to tell Mum on us, do you?"
"He definitely will. Our darling angel always does whatever Mum says, remember?"
Percy poked his brothers in the air with a finger and shot them a look that clearly said, You'll be sorry later, then invited Skyl over to talk in a corner.
As they left the hall, a slip of parchment appeared on the table in front of Ron and Malfoy. It read: Your detention begins at eight o'clock this evening. Report to the entrance hall and see Mr Filch. — Professor McGonagall.
Ron crumpled the note up in dejection. He couldn't have said exactly how awful the past few days had been, but today was definitely the worst.
Percy and Skyl both saw the boy's slumped figure as they passed, but neither of them slowed their steps.
Once they were outside the doors, Percy came straight to the point. "Skyl, Professor Quirrell asked me to tell you that whenever you're free, please go by his office."
When Skyl heard this, he had rather mixed feelings. That far-off morning when Quirrell had taken him to Diagon Alley to buy textbooks and school supplies still flashed back in his mind from time to time, as did the look the professor had given him when they parted—a look Skyl still hadn't quite managed to read.
One had to say, Skyl did feel some gratitude toward Quirrell.
There had been a time when he'd been deeply wary of the fragment of Voldemort's soul clinging to Quirrell. Looking back now, the Dark Lord himself seemed as insignificant as dust.
Skyl lowered his head and smiled. "You definitely had something else to talk to me about."
"That's right. You could put it that way, I suppose. I've heard you've founded some sort of underground student club. Care to tell me exactly what it does?"
Skyl himself had made a big splash in Charms, Transfiguration and Potions, winning unanimous approval and praise from the professors. That, in turn, had made the club he'd founded the latest hot trend.
"Percy, oh Percy," Skyl said, full of wicked amusement, "if I could casually tell people the club's doctrine, could it still be called 'underground' and 'secret'? There's only one thing I can tell you. The first rule of the club is: you do not talk about the club."
"I'm not actually curious about your club. It's just that… lately some Slytherin students have been asking about it as well. I think you should be more careful when you're choosing members."
"I've already scattered clues to joining the club all over the castle. Anyone with a mind to, no matter which house they belong to, can find their way there."
"Is that so? How very interesting. By the way, when exactly did you distribute these clues? Did anyone see you?" Percy asked, his tone evasive.
"Why, in the dead of night, of course." Skyl winked, then laughed and clapped Percy on the shoulder. "I'm off to find Professor Quirrell. See you."
…
Ron's stomach hadn't felt quite right since dinner—though it definitely wasn't because he'd gone hungry, or even overeaten. Before he'd received that thoroughly depressing detention notice, the red-haired Weasley boy had already put away three crispy roast chicken drumsticks, a hefty slice of roast beef swimming in thick gravy, a dish of smooth, rich, creamy peppered mashed potatoes, and a plate of sizzling German-style sausages. His stomach was at a perfectly pleasant level of fullness, yet some craving in his brain still drove Ron to snatch two pieces of Yorkshire pudding from the table as a midnight snack for later.
His friends all knew Ron was going to be in detention, and seeing how low his spirits were, they came over to comfort him.
In the common room, the twins reenacted the scene from flying class that day—especially the moment when Harry had caught Ron in a princess carry. George threw himself into Fred's arms like a delicate maiden, and not only did the boys burst out laughing, the witches were soon giggling helplessly as well.
With eight o'clock fast approaching, Ron said goodbye to his friends and hurried out. In the corridor outside the common room, he ran into the returning transfer student, Skyl.
"Hey, Ron." The other boy called out to stop him.
Ron greeted him cheerfully, then noticed that the transfer student had a white Russian wolfhound, a Borzoi—a handsome dog with a long, narrow muzzle—padding along behind him. "Wow! Where did the dog come from?"
"This is my new pet. His name's Afu—want to pet him?" The transfer student wore a strange smile. The dog called Afu reluctantly poked its head forward. Ron was tempted, but remembering it was getting late, he didn't let himself be delayed any further and only offered a kind reminder: "I don't think we're allowed to keep dogs at school."
"Yeah, that is a bit of a problem," Skyl agreed. "But I think we can make an exception for Afu. After all, he's…"
Ron didn't stay to hear the rest of what the transfer student was saying. He rushed off after a quick goodbye, his retreating figure light and carefree, like ball lightning rolling happily through the night.
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