Lionheart's Den and Starlight Whisper

The clamor of the start-of-term feast gradually calmed down. The warm scent of food in the Great Hall was replaced by the faint smell of candle wax burning. The older students yawned and left the long tables in twos and threes. Lynn set down the last lemon tart dusted with icing sugar, feeling the steady warmth from the Star Stone, and his gaze naturally fell on Hermione beside him. She was carefully using the tip of her wand—the tip glowing with an extremely faint milky-white light—to clean nonexistent pastry crumbs from the pages of History of Magic. She looked as focused as though she were conducting a precise experiment, her fluffy brown curls falling against her cheeks.

"First-years! Gryffindor first-years, gather over here!" A stern voice full of obvious responsibility rang out. Percy Weasley, a gleaming Prefect Badge pinned to his chest, stood perfectly straight and waved an arm at this flock of red-and-gold fledglings.

Lynn and Hermione rose with the crowd. Hermione swiftly put away her wand and book, unconsciously moving a little closer to Lynn. Beneath her excitement at the new environment lay a trace of barely noticeable nervousness. Lynn could feel the faint emotional ripple from the Moon White Stone at her chest, as delicate as a butterfly's fluttering wings.

"Follow me, watch your step! The stairs like to play tricks!" Percy called loudly as he led them through the still-crowded hall toward a broad stone corridor. Moving portraits covered both walls. The people in them curiously studied the first-years; some waved greetings, some dozed off, while others, dressed in medieval clothing, fiercely debated something within their frames.

Sure enough, the moment they stepped onto the first broad flight of stone stairs, the steps beneath them let out an abrupt crack. A large section in the middle suddenly flipped upward, turning into a smooth, steep slope! Several first-years at the front were caught off guard and cried out as they fell backward.

"Careful!" Lynn reacted quickly. With his left hand, he caught a round-faced boy beside him who had nearly rolled down the stairs—Neville—while his right hand naturally and steadily supported Hermione's elbow. His movements were swift and precise, as though he had anticipated the staircase's prank.

Hermione's body went rigid for an instant, then rapidly relaxed under the warmth and strength of his hand. She looked up at Lynn, her little face faintly red, and said softly, "Thank you." Separated by their robes, the Star Stone and Moon White Stone resonated clearly, carrying their shared sense of reassurance.

"Hold tight to the railings and stay alert!" Percy shouted from ahead, apparently used to such minor incidents.

They climbed what seemed like seven floors—experiencing at least three moving staircases and one disappearing corridor along the way—before finally stopping at the end of an empty hallway. There was no door before them, only an enormous portrait. The ornate frame was edged in gold, and the painting depicted a plump lady in a luxurious rose-red velvet gown and an extravagant feathered hat. She reclined in a comfortable armchair with a sleeping ginger long-haired cat in her lap, against a typical English countryside backdrop. Most eye-catching of all was the huge golden shield hanging on the wall behind her, embossed with an elaborate lion's head.

"Password?" the lady in the painting lazily asked, lifting her eyelids in an operatic tone. She scrutinized the travel-worn first-years critically, lingering a moment longer on Lynn's calm face and the thick book Hermione held.

"Dragon's Breath Whiskey," Percy answered clearly.

"Oh, fine. Lucky you." The Fat Lady—as Lynn named her in his mind—curled her lip, seemingly dissatisfied with the password. Still, her portrait frame gave a soft click, then silently swung inward with the entire painting as though it were a real door, revealing a round, warm, brightly lit opening behind it!

A wave of warmth washed over them, carrying the mingled scents of pinewood burning in fireplaces, old parchment, and wool carpets. Amid the overlapping gasps of the first-years, a comforting space like a giant bird's nest unfolded before them.

The Gryffindor Common Room! It was a huge circular chamber with warm reddish-brown stone walls, hung with scarlet tapestries and woven hangings depicting famous Gryffindor adventures—the scenes moved, with griffins soaring and knights swinging swords. Several brass chandeliers hung from the low ceiling, casting a gentle glow. Countless plump, inviting scarlet armchairs and sofas were scattered around the room, gathered around several crackling fireplaces where golden flames danced. Broad tables piled with books, parchment, and Wizard Chess sets stood throughout the room. Several tall arched windows set with stained glass were currently covered by heavy scarlet velvet curtains; during the day, they presumably overlooked the magnificent castle grounds or distant mountains. The entire space was filled with a cozy, lively, slightly messy sense of life, as though the air itself pulsed with fearless courage.

"Welcome to Lionheart's Den." Percy's voice held a trace of barely concealed pride. "This is the Gryffindor Common Room. The common area is open all day, but please keep quiet, especially after eleven at night. The boys' dormitories are up the spiral stairs on the left, and the girls' are on the right. Your luggage should already have been delivered to your dormitories. Remember, The Fat Lady guards the Common Room, and the password changes once a week. The new password will be pinned to the noticeboard." He pointed to a corkboard covered with parchment beside the fireplace. "Forget the password, and you can spend the night in the corridor! Now, go find your beds. Don't be late tomorrow morning!" With that, he straightened his back and headed toward a table piled with documents, clearly preparing to begin his prefect's "night work."

The first-years immediately scattered excitedly, curiously exploring their new home. Ron dragged Harry toward the spiral stone stairs leading to the boys' dormitories on the left. Neville stood where he was, clutching his toad Trevor with a somewhat lost expression.

Hermione did not leave right away. Standing in the warm glow, she looked around the lively space, her large eyes sparkling with novelty and the reassurance of having found somewhere she belonged. She unconsciously edged a little closer to Lynn, her voice carrying the dependence of someone who had just arrived somewhere unfamiliar and clung to her only familiar companion. "This... is even better than the books described!"

"It is," Lynn nodded, his gaze sweeping across the comfortable sofas and dancing firelight. "Warm, and full of... life." His eyes finally returned to Hermione's face, where he noticed a tiny speck of black ash from the fireplace had somehow settled on the tip of her nose.

Almost instinctively, he raised a hand and gently brushed his thumb across the tip of her nose.

His fingertips were warm and soft. Hermione's body stiffened sharply, and her eyes widened in an instant like a startled deer. Her cheeks rapidly turned a crimson deeper than the Common Room tapestries. She even forgot to breathe. Her long lashes fluttered quickly as she clearly felt the faint electric sensation of the calluses on Lynn's fingertips brushing over her skin, along with the sudden, distinct warmth from the Star Stone, as though she were being toasted beside the fire.

"Ash," Lynn said calmly, as if he had merely done the most natural thing in the world. He withdrew his hand, the delicate sensation still lingering on his fingertips.

"Oh... th-thank you." Hermione's voice was barely louder than a mosquito's buzz. She lowered her head in a fluster, unconsciously twisting the hem of her robe between her fingers, while her heart pounded in her chest like a drum. It felt as though the entire Common Room had grown warmer. The chatter of the other first-years seemed muffled behind a curtain of water. The Moon White Stone against her chest grew faintly hot, clearly recording this moment of fluttering emotion.

"You're welcome." Watching her shy expression, Lynn's lips curved into a faint smile. "Go find your dormitory. It should be upstairs."

"Mm!" Hermione nodded vigorously, as though she had been granted a pardon. Hugging her book, she hurried toward the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories on the right, nearly moving both arms and legs in the same direction. Even the tips of her ears were bright red. After taking a few steps, she could not help looking back, stealing a quick glance at Lynn, who was still standing there. Lynn was watching her and gave her a slight nod, his eyes gentle. As if scalded, Hermione immediately turned away and walked even faster, though the corners of her mouth secretly curved into a sweet smile she could not suppress.

Lynn watched her vanish around the staircase corner before turning toward the boys' spiral stairs on the left. The old stone steps wound upward, with a burning torch set into the wall every few paces. He had only climbed a few steps when Ron's loud voice rang out from above.

"Harry! Look! Our luggage really is here! And... blimey, this room is huge!"

The boys' dormitory was located in one of the towers, a spacious circular room. The walls were the same warm reddish brown, and five four-poster beds draped in dark red curtains were arranged around the center like petals. Each bed came with a bedside table and a small wardrobe. A hazy Star Chart was painted on the high arched ceiling. Outside the window, the deep-purple night sky and the dark outline of the distant Forbidden Forest were clearly visible.

Harry and Ron's luggage was piled beside two adjacent beds by the window. The luggage of Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas—the other two first-years—stood beside two other beds. Beside the final bed, near the door and in a relatively less "ideal" position, rested Lynn's brand-new trunk from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"Hey, Lynn! Over here!" Harry called warmly when he saw Lynn enter, pointing to the bed near the door. "This one's yours."

"Thanks." Lynn walked over and gave a simple nod. Ron was excitedly bouncing on his own bed, testing the mattress's springiness. Seamus and Dean were arguing about Quidditch teams.

Lynn opened his trunk and took out his toiletries and pajamas—plain dark-blue cotton with no magical effects whatsoever. His movements were unhurried, carrying a steadiness beyond his age. When his fingertips touched the cool cover of the Starry Notebook and the Pen of Stars, whose sapphire tip bore a faint crack, he paused slightly. The chaotic energy backlash from the failed Astrology Compass experiment flashed through his mind, followed by... the pure healing power of Hermione's Moonlight Wand. That gentle power seemed to have imprinted itself more clearly in his heart than any profound spell.

"Lynn," Harry's voice interrupted his thoughts, filled with sincere gratitude. "Thank you for catching Neville on the stairs just now... and what you said to Malfoy in the train compartment was brilliant!" His green eyes were full of admiration.

"Nothing much," Lynn replied lightly, placing the notebook and pen on the bedside table.

"Exactly! Malfoy's smug face is unbearable!" Ron jumped off his bed and waved a fist. "That rubbish about 'what does your family do'—pah! Lynn, your answer, 'The End of the Star Trail,' was absolutely perfect! You should have seen the look on his face!" He imitated Malfoy's stiff expression, making Harry, Seamus, and Dean laugh.

The dormitory was filled with the excitement and chattering conversation of boys away from home for the first time. Lynn made his bed, changed into his pajamas, and leaned against the headboard. Outside, Hogwarts's lights resembled a Milky Way spread across the earth beneath the night sky, while the dark outline of the distant Forbidden Forest looked like some slumbering beast. The Star Stone against his heart gave off a steady, reassuring warmth. He closed his eyes, yet his awareness stretched out on its own, as though it could pass through the stone walls and sense the girl in the tower to the right, who was also adjusting to her new surroundings.

In the girls' dormitory, Hermione had changed into her pajamas as well—a light-blue cotton nightdress patterned with tiny owls. She sat on her bed by the window, clutching the dark-blue Starry Notebook tightly to her chest, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the star patterns on its cover. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, her roommates, were excitedly exchanging thoughts about their Diagon Alley shopping and guessing about the new professors.

Hermione's thoughts had drifted far away. It seemed that the gentle touch of Lynn's fingertips still lingered on the tip of her nose, and her cheeks began heating up again. She secretly opened the notebook and lightly wrote two words on a blank dark-blue page with her fingertip, without channeling magic into them, so they would leave no trace: Idiot. Once she had written them, she thought it was too childish. Annoyed with herself, she shut the notebook and buried her burning face in the soft pillow. The Moon White Stone against her collarbone sent out warm, strange pulses, as though answering the pull of another star.

The night deepened. The castle fell silent, with only the wind howling outside the towers. In the boys' dormitory, Ron had begun to snore softly, and Harry had sunk into deep sleep. Lynn, however, opened his eyes. He silently sat up and picked up the Pen of Stars from beside his pillow. The Star Stone glowed faintly, providing a weak source of light. He turned to a fresh page in the notebook. The pen tip hovered above the paper without writing anything. Instead, he focused, gently pouring the clear and warm concern that had surfaced in his heart after the noise faded into the pen tip through the Star Stone's power.

No words appeared on the dark-blue page. Instead, a patch of exceedingly gentle, flickering starlight quietly lit up, brightening and dimming like breathing. The light slowly gathered and flowed, finally sketching an abstract yet vividly expressive silhouette—a girl holding a book, her hair slightly curled, standing quietly amid the starlight.

At the same time, in the girls' dormitory, Hermione, who clutched the Starry Notebook tightly in her sleep, had the faint crease between her brows quietly smooth away. The Moon White Stone at her chest seemed to respond, giving off the same soft, nearly imperceptible milky-white glow. It gently wrapped around her and silently answered the clumsy but heartfelt goodnight greeting from Beyond the Star Trail.

The light of stars and moon wove a silent, sweet secret through the warm red-lion nest, separated by ancient stone walls—a secret belonging to Hogwarts's first night. Deep within the Forbidden Forest outside, a night owl seemed to sweep across the treetops, leaving behind a long, low call.