Roger was afraid of missing the final exams and being forced to repeat the year. More importantly, he did not want to place his life and death in someone else's hands. After thinking for a moment, he decided to run another simulation.
The future unfolded again. First, he foresaw that he would be sent into the Forbidden Forest, so he moved carefully and avoided Quirrell. Second, Malfoy's prank changed the group assignments, and Roger and Harry encountered Quirrell together. Third, Roger cast a spell at Quirrell, realised he could not resist the man properly, and escaped alone. Fourth, Harry was rescued by the centaurs, and the story of Roger the deserter spread throughout the school.
The simulation stopped there.
"It is still better to be a deserter than a wounded soldier," Roger muttered, his face dark. Fortunately, the result was not fixed, which meant there was still room to prepare.
"Unicorns are good stuff," he said suddenly, his eyes brightening.
An idea quickly took shape in his mind. He immediately wrote home and asked Bubble to send over some Soviet specialties. Spells were also essential. Although using dark magic with a wand carrying the Trace was inconvenient, defensive magic was a different matter. He could use Protego, strengthen his Patronus Charm, and quickly learn stronger shield work to defend himself against ordinary spells.
"What if Quirrell uses the Unforgivable Curses?" Roger frowned.
As the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrell had to know them. If the man truly used those curses, Roger's options would be painfully limited.
"If it really reaches that point, then I can only run," he said with a sigh.
He accepted reality and began preparing for the worst. Taking out his alchemy book, he decided to turn the troll hide into anti-spell equipment. At the same time, he intensified his spell practice, because confidence was useful only when supported by actual strength.
.....
"What will my Patronus be?" Roger wondered aloud.
He waved his wand again, and a large burst of silver light shot from the tip. Unfortunately, the light still showed no sign of condensing into a real form.
"It is already level three," Roger murmured. "It seems the panel can increase power, but it cannot analyse mysteries."
He stood in thought for a while, realising that he needed to find a way to condense the Patronus properly. The first time he had used the Patronus Charm had been in Azkaban, when he had remembered the best moments of his life. That memory had been enough to call forth light in the darkest place in the world.
Roger took a deep breath and emptied his mind. Happy and joyful scenes rose one after another, and with time, those memories had become richer and gentler, like wine slowly mellowing in the dark.
"Expecto Patronum," he murmured.
Silvery-white light erupted from his wand and finally gathered into a vivid shape. A raven spread its wings and danced through the air, its body shimmering with pure light. Its eyes shone like stars as it circled gracefully above him, then glided down and landed gently on his shoulder.
"A raven?" Roger said, both surprised and delighted.
He had imagined dragons or unicorns before, something grand and legendary. But a raven suited the image of a wizard far better, mysterious and clever, with wings dipped in shadow and silver.
After finishing the day's practice, Roger's magic was almost completely depleted. He dragged his exhausted body back toward the Slytherin common room and happened to run into Malfoy, who was just about to leave.
"Malfoy, why are you going out so late?" Roger asked.
"Ro—Roger, good evening," Malfoy stammered. His expression looked unnatural, like someone caught doing something he knew he should not.
Over the past half year, Roger had become the leader among the younger Slytherins thanks to his strength and polished manners. Although the older students did not care much about him, that did not affect his status as a kind of shadow prefect. Malfoy, for his part, had become a little frightened whenever he saw him.
"Any activities tonight?" Roger asked.
"Yes, yes. There is an activity," Malfoy said quickly.
"Count me in?"
"Well…" Malfoy looked deeply reluctant. He had overheard Harry planning to send a dragon away that night and was preparing to report them.
"All right, it seems to be a secret operation." Roger smiled with great understanding and walked toward his dormitory. "See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," Malfoy said, letting out a breath of relief.
"Oh, right." Roger suddenly turned back.
Malfoy almost jumped out of his skin.
"If Filch catches you, you definitely will not have a pleasant night," Roger said.
"Don't worry. He definitely won't," Malfoy said firmly, terrified that Roger might change his mind and follow him out of the common room.
"I might not get caught," Roger thought as he returned to his dormitory, "but I would walk straight into their trap."
He shook his head. There was not much time left. After returning to his dorm, he retrieved the box Bubble had brought him. Inside was a Stechkin APS, a former Soviet automatic pistol that should catch Professor Quirrell off guard.
If that was not enough, there were also RGO and RGN grenades. A dozen or so should be enough to give Professor Quirrell a very memorable experience. As for whether high-explosive shrapnel might damage the plants in the Forbidden Forest, Roger could only wish the plants good luck.
As expected, Malfoy reported Harry and his friends to Professor McGonagall for illegally keeping a dragon. Professor McGonagall did not believe him at all and deducted twenty points from Slytherin. Later, however, she caught Harry and the others anyway.
At breakfast, Malfoy sat nervously at the Slytherin table. Everyone stared at him, because thanks to his recklessness, their house had lost points only four months after the start of school.
"Roger, I… Harry and the others lost even more points," Malfoy defended himself. "I made each of them lose fifty points."
He sounded as if he expected to be treated like a hero.
"Let's eat first," Roger said, shaking his head.
Not speaking while eating was a good habit. Unfortunately, Malfoy had been terrified by Professor McGonagall's mention of detention and had lost his appetite completely. More importantly, Roger's attitude would determine Malfoy's standing among the younger Slytherins.
Roger put down his cutlery and looked at him steadily. "Malfoy, I remember reminding you last night."
"I know," Malfoy said quickly. "But I made Gryffindor fall to last place."
He raised his voice, loud enough for much of the Great Hall to hear. The Gryffindor table became even quieter.
"And then?" Roger asked calmly.
"I do not mean to criticise you," he continued, though his tone made it clear that was exactly what he intended to do. "But some people might say you acted without thinking. You violated curfew, lied to a professor, and—"
"Roger, I didn't lie!" Malfoy stood abruptly and pointed at Harry. "I heard it outside Hagrid's hut. Harry was going to bring a dragon into school."
"A dragon? Brilliant! Harry, you have a dragon? Can it breathe fire?" Fred Weasley shouted excitedly.
"Charlie never took us to the Romanian reserves," George added. "He always said dragons were too dangerous."
The Weasley twins clearly had no idea how serious the situation was. Their excitement only made the hall more chaotic.
"Isn't privately keeping a dragon illegal?" someone asked.
"Yes, the Ministry of Magic does not allow dragon eggs to circulate on the market," another student said. "So where did Harry's dragon come from?"
"Could it be Hagrid's?"
Malfoy's words immediately sparked discussion, and everyone's attention fell on Harry. Many students looked amazed, as if privately keeping a dragon was exactly the sort of reckless thing worthy of Gryffindor.
"So, do you have evidence?" Roger asked.
"I…" Malfoy opened his mouth, then shouted defiantly, "I saw the dragon with my own eyes. I heard it too. Its name is Norbert."
Seeing Roger's increasingly indifferent gaze, Malfoy slowly closed his mouth.
"Malfoy," Roger said.
"Yes?"
"You should start a newspaper. I have already thought of a name for you: Hearsay."
Laughter burst out around them. Roger lifted one hand, signalling for everyone to quiet down, and the sound gradually faded.
Malfoy sat back down with his head lowered, finally realising where he had gone wrong.
"Since you were so certain Harry had a dragon, why didn't you tell the headmaster?" Roger asked.
"I…" Malfoy froze.
Right. Why had he not told Dumbledore? Why had he rushed to Professor McGonagall?
If he had gone to Snape instead, that dragon named Norbert might already have become potion ingredients. Slytherin would not have lost points; they might even have gained them.
"Twenty points is the most we have lost so far," Roger said. "Perhaps we will lose the House Cup to Gryffindor because of it."
The others looked confused. Gryffindor was nearly two hundred points behind, so how could they possibly catch up? Still, Roger's calm certainty made several students uneasy.
"All right, what is past is past. There is no need to dwell on it," Roger said. "There are only eight weeks until final exams. I applied to our Head of House to establish the Raven Magic Club, and he has already approved it."
"Roger, I want to be the first to join," Daphne said immediately.
She supported him before even knowing what the club was. The others looked at Roger curiously. Hogwarts already had clubs for Gobstones, Charms, and several other activities. What was this new magic club supposed to do?
"It will officially begin in our second year," Roger said, smiling gently at Daphne to signal there was no need to rush. "For now, it is still in preparation."
"The Raven Magic Club will be dedicated to exploring the mysteries of magic and improving practical magical ability," he continued. "Members will share knowledge and experience in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and more."
Roger raised his wand and cast the Patronus Charm.
A silver raven flew from the tip of his wand and soared freely above the hall, scattering shimmering light like a dream. The young wizards lifted their heads and stared at the circling bird, exclaiming in amazement.
"Roger, is that… is that your Patronus?" Marcus asked in shock.
"Of course. It is not difficult," Roger said with a nod.
Compared with a solitary raven, perhaps a flock of jackdaws would suit a club name better. Still, the silver bird wheeling above the Great Hall was more than enough to seize everyone's attention.
"Then… you… I…" Marcus stammered, too excited to speak properly.
The Patronus Charm was an extraordinary spell. Once mastered, it would absolutely make him stand out from the crowd at the Ministry of Magic after graduation.
.....
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