Collared Owlet: I Didn't Even Name Him Yet...

The hard, thorn-covered shell around Christian had completely cracked and fallen away. Through tears, she told them her story. It seemed that for the past ten years, only before these two people she had known for mere days could she finally relax. Like a quail that had barely escaped a vulture's nest and made its way back among its own kind, crossing mountains and rivers, dragging its fluffy, soaking-wet feathers toward the embrace of two larger birds, crying to them about the wind, rain, insects, and snakes that had assailed it along the way.

"You don't need to pity me." Christian raised her stubborn little face and stared straight at Nelson, whose expression had changed. "Everyone has to suffer eventually. I just went through it earlier than most. Besides, plenty of people have had it worse than me."

"You finally said something I like." Tom spun around on his chair, turning toward Christian as he praised her.

"Ah—" Color rose into Christian's pale cheeks. She really was looking more and more like Tom. Lowering her head as though she did not know what to say, she could only continue her story. "At first, I thought I was a freak. Later, I thought maybe I had some kind of special ability. I heard Germany was recruiting people like that? Are they looking for Wizards? Do they want to form a Wizard army?"

"Maybe they just want to trick some Wizards into going over there and dissect them for experiments," Nelson interjected, leaning against the windowsill. "Even if it's real, they could be Vampires, Werewolves, Giants, or some other magical creatures."

"What? Vampires really exist?" Christian cried out in alarm, growing a little frightened. Vampires had always been used to scare children who would not go to bed properly. Nelson had no idea how many times she had worn that expression tonight.

"Hahaha." Nelson and Tom exchanged a glance and laughed. "But you're a witch, Christian. The kind of witch from books who rides broomsticks and brews Potions. If witches can walk out of books, then of course they can too."

"Besides, those monsters are nothing to worry about," Tom added disdainfully. "They can barely even speak properly, let alone cast magic."

"Mm!" Christian nodded in relief and continued, "I was always afraid that people would discover what was different about me... You know, those traffickers were not good people."

"To be honest, that was exactly why we came. We saw you using magic in the alley before, and you were very emotional last night." Nelson took a nut from his pocket and spoke seriously. "Some young Wizards who remain in oppressive environments for too long may deliberately suppress their magic because they fear it revealing itself. If that continues for too long, it may erode your mind and turn you into an Obscurial—a magical monster born from an outburst of magic, full of destruction."

"But don't worry. We can already tell that you're basically safe." Seeing the terror on Christian's face, her eyes widened. This seemed to be the most unacceptable news she had heard all night. Nelson added, "You can control your magic. What happened in the corridor proved that, while an Obscurial is uncontrollable."

The fear in her eyes faded a little, but her anxiety remained impossible to shake.

"Don't worry. Professor Dumbledore is an expert in this. He'll come see you specially when he has time," Nelson comforted her. "At least you haven't turned into a cloud of black mist drifting around in the sky..."

Nelson did not seem very good at comforting people. He could feel Christian becoming more and more anxious.

"What is there to be afraid of?" Tom said impatiently. "If you were an Obscurial, Nelson would have already thrown that nut at your forehead. You wouldn't be sitting here talking so much."

His blunt words seemed to earn Christian's trust more easily. Her agitation eased considerably.

"Besides, you've been rescued now. There won't be any thugs or hooligans around here. There's nothing to fear," Tom declared conclusively.

"Mm." Christian lifted her face and forced out a tiny response.

"Now that you mention it, I'm curious. The traffickers have all been caught, so why were you still stealing? Stealing is bad." Tom voiced his confusion, with a trace of anger. "I don't think Mrs. Cole would let you go hungry. Even if she starved to death herself, she wouldn't let you fall so low that you had to steal just to fill your stomach."

"I'm sorry, Nelson. I'll definitely pay it back." Christian sat stiffly on the chair with her legs pressed together, both hands tightly clutching her knees. She lowered her head and asked quietly, "Didn't you say you stole things too?"

"Oh, yes, you finally caught something to hold against me." Tom answered carelessly. "Yes, I did steal things. Back then, the orphanage was in worse condition, and we were always hungry. After Mrs. Cole took over the orphanage, I met Nal and realized that what I had done was wrong. So I returned everything I stole. They all forgave me."

"And what about you, Miss Jewell?" Tom demanded coldly. "Why did you steal? I won't let a thief follow behind us into Hogwarts!"

Christian sat even more rigidly. She buried her head deeply between her hands, holding it as her shoulders shook without stop.

"Drip, drip—" Tears struck the dusty floor one by one, splashing in every direction. Tom and Nelson froze where they stood. Though Tom's authority at the orphanage had not faded to this day, even he had never seen anything like this. In less than a minute, that small patch of floor looked as though half a cup of water had been poured over it. The girl who would keep her head high and shout at others even while crying had been reduced to this by just a few words from Tom.

"Hey, don't cry..." Tom looked completely at a loss. He stood up and reached out as if to touch Christian's shoulder, but quickly pulled his hand back. Pacing in place, he drew his Wand and thought for a moment, looking as though he wanted to simply hit her with a Stupefy.

One hand grabbed the wrist holding his Wand, while another stuffed a handkerchief into his empty palm. It was Nelson, who had just jumped down from the windowsill.

"Oh, nice Transfiguration." Tom looked at the neatly folded handkerchief in his hand. Its white fabric was embroidered with intricate green trim, and each of its four corners bore a Little Snakes embroidered in gold thread, each with a different expression.

"Here, wipe your tears." He held the handkerchief out to Christian, his tone unusually gentle. "I'm not blaming you. Muggle money is worthless to us anyway, but stealing really is wrong. I was afraid there were still traffickers out there forcing you to steal for them... If there are, I'll catch them."

Christian raised her head, covering her face with one hand as she accepted the handkerchief with the other, then buried her head in her arms again.

"I just... sob... The people who came with me were all... all rescued from the traffickers," she said between sobs. "They all know I... sob... used to be a thief. I wanted to buy some... some sweets for them. I wanted them to play with me... sob... but I didn't have any money."

"It's all right. It's over now." Tom gently patted her back, comforting her in the tone he imagined a mother would use. "It's all in the past. Next year, you can come to Hogwarts with us."

The girl threw herself into Tom's arms, hiding her face as she wailed in a heartrending voice Nelson had never heard before.

"Oh, damn it." After turning into the alley where they had first met Christian, Tom glanced back and pulled his Wand from his sleeve, carefully wiping it with his cuff. "Doesn't she know the hem of her clothes is much dirtier than her hands?"

"Didn't you give her your Wand?" Nelson was holding his own Wand, swinging it around like an ordinary boy playing with a stick picked up from the ground. "Great. Today's report will take two sheets of parchment."

"What else could I have done? I just couldn't stand looking at her like that. You don't actually think I went soft, do you?" Tom said with a stern face, proclaiming his heartlessness. "No way? No way? No way?"

Before they left, Christian learned that the hat on her head had been made from wall plaster and would disappear today. She clung to Tom's arm and would not let go, looking at him pleadingly. Left with no choice, Tom dragged Nelson into spending a great deal of effort reinforcing the Transfiguration. They had wanted to use a Permanent Stasis Charm, but even the two of them, whose learning progress far exceeded the ordinary, had not reached that point yet—Tom had no interest in Transfiguration at all, just as Nelson performed only passably in Potions. When Christian heard that the Newsboy Cap could last for a year, she was overjoyed and held Tom's arm as she said she would ask him to reinforce the charm every year until Nelson mastered the Permanent Stasis Charm.

"Could you stop copying Dumbledore's expression? It's disgusting to look at." Tom waved a hand with some revulsion, as though shooing away a fly.

"I think this expression is very approachable." Nelson stood in front of Tom, his face full of Dumbledore's smile.

"..." Tom said nothing. He walked around Nelson and quickly headed off, and the two of them returned to Nicklaus House in this chasing and scuffling manner.

On the sofa at home, Nelson was telling his uncle Christina's story. His aunt, who had been preparing lunch, listened for a while before running over to the sofa as well, leaning against his uncle and wiping away tears.

"What the hell is going on?" Nelson heard Tom curse from upstairs.

"Don't swear, Tom!" Hearing the commotion, Jonas went upstairs.

"What the hell is going on!" Jonas's voice came from upstairs.

"Jonas, don't swear in front of the children!" his aunt roared.

Nelson and his aunt rushed upstairs and found the two men standing outside Tom's room. Looking closer, they saw that Tom's window was wide open. From the windowsill to the window was a thick, wet, twisted trail, and the Birdcage for Tom's Collared Owlet had become a twisted heap of scrap metal, with several bloodstained feathers hanging from it.

"I didn't even give him a name yet," Tom said blankly from the doorway.

"I hadn't even learned how to spell Collared Owlet yet..." Nelson's voice said.