At this time, John had already left early and returned to the M.O.M.H.L factory.
There, he still needed to carry out the final review and assignment for the first batch of student workers recruited today.
So Cedric was left walking back to the dormitory alone, shrouded in darkness. After washing up and climbing into bed, his eyes were blank, his limbs stiff, like a walking corpse.
He had really scared himself with his own speculation.
If Link truly was, as he had imagined, following in Voldemort's footsteps, then what would become of them?
But when he thought about it carefully, that didn't seem very likely.
After all, Link wasn't Voldemort.
This was something Cedric, who had known Link for a long time, could say with absolute certainty.
Although Link could be rather cold and ruthless when dealing with certain matters, in general, he was still a boy who longed for peace and beauty.
How could someone like that ever imitate Voldemort?
At most, he was probably just borrowing the method Voldemort used to rise to power, using it as a foundation to achieve his own goals.
And as for what that goal was?
Cedric tended to believe that Link wanted to rule the magical world, not just in Britain, but across all of Europe, perhaps even the entire world.
That goal might sound terrifying at first.
But when you thought about it more deeply, it actually wasn't.
Because the first thing that had to be done to achieve that goal was to destroy Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
And if they were to participate in that battle and achieve some merits in the process…
Then, without question, they would become heroes of the magical world and gain immense fame.
That fame, combined with the Flamel family's vast commercial network that already stretched across Britain and much of Germany, and their massive wealth, would make it almost effortless for Link to become Minister of Magic. In time, he might even take the seat of Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.
That would practically amount to ruling the entire magical world, and without ever having to start a war like Voldemort.
The more Cedric thought about it, the more reasonable it sounded. He turned over and over in bed, completely unable to sleep.
He didn't just imagine all the possible scenarios that could happen during this plan; he even fantasized about what it would look like when they finally reaped the fruits of victory.
Just imagine it.
If Link really did become Supreme Mugwump, then naturally he wouldn't want to abandon Britain, his stronghold.
At that point, he'd need someone he could trust completely to take over as Minister of Magic.
And who would that be?
Cedric believed it could only be him.
After all, the International Confederation of Wizards would never allow Link to appoint someone from his own bloodline to control the British Ministry, that was their bottom line.
And among all those who weren't related to Link, who could be more capable or more trustworthy than Cedric Diggory?
"Phew~"
The thought of himself becoming the next Minister of Magic made Cedric's breathing quicken with excitement.
Others might not know, but he did.
The Diggory family had, in fact, once produced a Minister of Magic before, and now he, Cedric Diggory, was going to be the second.
Of course, what really thrilled Cedric wasn't just that.
It was that, after becoming Minister, he could finally fix all the flaws plaguing the current Ministry of Magic.
Things like corruption among Ministry officials, political infighting, and organizational inefficiency.
Those were issues Fudge couldn't solve, but with Link's support from the International Confederation of Wizards, Cedric should have no trouble cleaning them up.
That way, life for British wizards would certainly get better.
Link, however, knew nothing of Cedric's thoughts.
And even if he did, he'd probably just chuckle, maybe sigh about how "smart people like Cedric always love to overthink."
Because in reality, Link himself had no such grand, world-shaking plan at all.
Cedric's overthinking was more like a form of self-convincing, or even self-hypnosis.
From the very moment he came up with the idea that "Link might be following Voldemort's path," Cedric had already subconsciously decided to support Link.
Everything that came afterward was just him trying to justify that decision to himself.
Because deep down, Cedric knew, people could change.
Even Voldemort, who was now infamous, had once been a polite, talented, and handsome student.
If even Voldemort could change, then how could Cedric be so sure Link wouldn't?
But Cedric chose to ignore all of that.
He spent the entire night in bed, excitedly hypnotizing himself.
When the first light of dawn broke through the window, the sleepless Cedric finally closed his eyes, smiling as he drifted into dreams.
He had made his decision, truly and completely.
He would do this for Link, for the entire magical world… and for his own ambition.
In the week that followed, Cedric, now utterly convinced he had seen through everything, threw himself with great enthusiasm into recruiting members for "Link's Defense Against the Dark Arts Self-Study Organization."
Believing that he was recruiting loyal and trustworthy comrades for the cause, Cedric's approach was highly selective.
Only sixth- and seventh-year students with outstanding ability, excellent character, and reliability were invited to join.
As for the so-called "true purpose" of the "Link Defense Against the Dark Arts Self-Study Organization," and the organization's long-term goals, Cedric explained all of that in very subtle terms during recruitment.
As he later told Link, "Those who understand, understand. Those who don't, well, they're just idiots, and it serves them right to be tricked into working for us."
And anyway, those "idiots" wouldn't really be losing out, when victory came, they'd still get their fair share of rewards.
Meanwhile, Hermione was also busy recruiting for the "Link Defense Against the Dark Arts Self-Study Organization."
She had always been enthusiastic about this sort of thing, as seen before when she founded a house-elf rights organization all by herself.
That time, she'd managed it entirely alone. Now that she had Link's support, she was even more fired up.
Unlike Cedric, though, Hermione didn't overcomplicate things.
She simply saw it as a self-study group, nothing more.
Their different mindsets naturally led to different recruitment strategies.
If Cedric was pursuing an "elite unit" approach, then Hermione was going for a "mass recruitment" one.
Anyone she thought might have potential, she'd sneak up to and mysteriously hand them an invitation.
Fortunately, she at least had enough sense to keep things secret from Umbridge, so her invitations were worded very carefully.
She only wrote that Link wanted to invite them to attend a "special tutoring session" at the M.O.M.H.L factory next weekend.
At first, Hermione thought that such vague and confusing invitations wouldn't attract many people.
But she clearly underestimated Link's reputation at Hogwarts.
In many cases, as soon as people saw the name Link on the invitation, they'd accept on the spot without a second thought, she didn't even have to persuade them.
This surprised Hermione greatly, and also thrilled her, fueling her motivation to work even harder.
Thanks to Hermione and Cedric's efforts, the appointed day arrived before long.
———
[Weekend]
[Inside One of Gryffindor's Dormitories]
Ron and the other boys lay sprawled in their four-poster beds, snoring and grinding their teeth, noisy, but cozy.
That cozy atmosphere didn't last long, though.
When the first ray of morning sunlight streamed through the dorm window, Ron suddenly shot up from bed as if startled by something.
His heart nearly stopped for a second, and he quickly collapsed back down, weak and breathless.
Still, he didn't scream or look surprised, because this was a trick he'd set up himself to make sure he woke up early.
Today, he had something important to do.
"Huff… huff…"
Panting heavily for a while, Ron finally got up, dragging his tired body out of bed.
Looking around, his roommates were all still fast asleep, oblivious to the noise.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
It was rare to have a weekend off, and he didn't want to disturb anyone's rest.
But when his eyes landed on Harry's bed across the room, his brow furrowed again.
There, curled under the blankets like a child, was Harry.
Even in sleep, his face was tense and troubled, and his right hand was tightly clenched over his palm.
"Haah…"
Ron sighed deeply.
He knew exactly how hard things had been for Harry lately.
Fifth year meant O.W.L. exams, their workload was already crushing, and on top of that, Harry had Quidditch practice, plus nightly detentions with Umbridge.
Especially that last part.
That old toad was downright inhuman.
To punish Harry, she'd made him copy lines endlessly using a special quill.
A quill that didn't need ink, it drew blood straight from the writer's veins, engraving the same words into the back of their hand.
The wounds healed quickly, but the pain was unforgettable.
And that "healing" wasn't infinite.
Lately, as Harry's detentions grew longer, Ron had noticed faint scars where the words had been.
That meant those sentences were likely permanently carved into Harry's flesh.
The thought made Ron ache with pity. Seeing the sweat on Harry's forehead, he reached out to wipe it.
But just as his hand extended, Harry seemed to sense discomfort even in his sleep, and rolled over, turning his head away and showing Ron the back of his head instead.
Ron froze mid-reach, his hand and expression both stiffening.
"Hmph! Like I even wanted to help you!"
He huffed angrily, pulled his hand back, and stormed out of the dorm, heading toward his destination for the day.
That tiny sleeping movement from Harry didn't just stop Ron from wiping his sweat, it reminded him that they were still on bad terms.
Ron couldn't understand it at all.
That Link Flamel, just to make his factory run smoothly, had nearly driven George and Fred's factory into bankruptcy, and had humiliated Ron himself.
Why had he ever admired such a despicable, shameless guy?
And Harry.
Hermione was one thing, that girl had been brainwashed by love since first year, always hanging on Link's every word. Even now, when Link already had a fiancée, she still hadn't changed.
But why did Harry take Link's side too?
Wasn't their friendship worth more than some Link Flamel?
He, Ron, had been Harry's first friend at Hogwarts, for crying out loud.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.
Being Harry Potter's first friend was something Ron was deeply proud of, and now it felt like Harry was proving that it meant nothing.
He'd only been sulking to get Harry and Hermione to come apologize, maybe promise to stop hanging out with Link.
But why hadn't they come to talk to him?
Why hadn't they even said anything to him?
It had to be because Link Flamel had brainwashed them somehow, or maybe even put them under the Imperius Curse.
'Yes, it's all Link's fault!'
As he walked, Ron kept repeating that to himself, the only way to stop his mind from drifting toward the thought that his friends had abandoned him.
And just then, a huge sign appeared before him.
In stylized English letters, it read...
[M.O.M.H.L, A Factory Truly Belonging to Students!
We firmly promise to provide every student who comes to work with the best environment and the finest treatment!]
[Signed: Link Flamel, Dolores Umbridge, Cedric Diggory.]
Ron's breathing quickened again as he stared at the sign.
Compared to the others, Link's name wasn't just listed first, it was printed in a much larger font, making it look like the factory belonged entirely to him (which, of course, it actually did, but that didn't stop Ron from being furious about it).
And to make things worse, he saw Umbridge's disgusting name right there too.
That made him want to tear the whole sign down.
But some shred of reason stopped him.
He forced down his anger and turned to a smaller noticeboard beside the main sign, where lines of recruitment information were posted.
There, he began searching carefully.
Yes, this was the very place Ron had gotten up early to visit.
And his purpose for coming here… was to find a job.