Rumors Can't Be Trusted, Classmates

"Oh my, my, how time flies." (Time really did fly!)

Peeves's shouts echoed through the castle, giving the students who had just finished class a terrible headache.

Time passed quickly at Hogwarts, which also meant that the busiest part of the term had arrived.

The weather in the Scottish Highlands gradually turned colder. Damp chills slipped in through the castle windows and spread throughout the entire building. There were always a few days each week when the wind howled through the corridors.

Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing had specially prepared plenty of potions to prevent colds. Jon drank a little every day. This was not medieval Europe, where the Black Death ran rampant, but influenza was still a serious matter.

To avoid infection, Jon avoided lingering in crowded places and went up to the Seventh Floor each day for a while to breathe fresh air. The method was indeed effective and kept him from feeling groggy. However, he wore robes enchanted with a constant-temperature spell and did not feel cold, while others who rashly followed him often caught colds instead.

After admitting two or three students with fevers caused by catching cold, Madam Pomfrey had the heads of house inform the students to stop going up high to catch the wind— even the flying time in flying lessons had been shortened considerably.

As a result, Jon spent far more time studying and practicing spells in Ravenclaw's Study. Since no one went to the Seventh Floor, he no longer had to be overly cautious when entering and leaving the secret study.

And for some reason, Dumbledore often disappeared from the school as well. Recently, Jon had been practicing Transfiguration spells in the secret study and frequently going in and out of the Seventh Floor, yet he had barely seen any sign of Dumbledore. Even Snape, who had previously been coming and going from the Headmaster's office, rarely appeared.

By this point, Dumbledore should have known about Voldemort's Horcruxes and begun preparing to collect them, right?

Meanwhile, regular classes continued as normal.

Transfiguration was the same as ever. His performance was not particularly outstanding. Although he had improved greatly in private, what he showed in class was only average—not top-tier, but still a little better than most people. In truth, controlling himself like this was even harder than revealing his real level.

But wasn't that a good thing?

Who said hard work had to be displayed for others to see? Jon had long passed the age of being a top student just to draw attention to himself. Studying quietly and making progress without a word was the proper way.

Putting in a little extra effort in secret every day was both a necessary and sufficient condition for becoming an excellent scholar.

Charms class was also the same as usual, except Jon could no longer pretend not to know how. There were three lads beside him who needed help. Whenever Jon pretended he could not perform some spell, they naturally stopped trying: Look, even Jon, a Pure-blood Wizard, couldn't do it. Isn't it perfectly normal that I can't either?

After this happened several times, Jon stopped pretending that he could not learn. During one class, his Charms ability suddenly improved by leaps and bounds, successfully stirring up his three roommates' enthusiasm for studying.

There were downsides, though. Among students from the other houses, his name went from being ignored to becoming "that Slytherin from Hufflepuff." Jon did not mind nicknames, but this one really did not sound good.

History of Magic was as boring as ever. Everyone slept during class. Jon did not sleep, but he was not listening either. For first-year History of Magic, casually reading through the textbook on his own was enough.

During class, he was always sketching and scribbling on paper. Students sitting near him occasionally caught sight of those completely incomprehensible curves and charts and always felt that he was working on some strange Dark Magic.

Especially since his behavior was strange as well—he ran up to the Seventh Floor alone every day.

"Come to think of it, the students in our house have started noticing you lately. I heard several people went to the Seventh Floor looking for you but couldn't find you anywhere. Now everyone is guessing that you have some secret and are secretly practicing Dark Magic somewhere in the castle."

At dinner, the four of them sat in a small corner of the Hufflepuff table, whispering among themselves.

The moment Stephen finished speaking, Fren immediately picked up the thread. "Yeah, yeah. They also said it was suspicious how you suddenly got so good in Charms class. They said you were tempted by the devil and fell into corruption, which was why you gained such powerful talent."

"And, and, they said you secretly broke into Ravenclaw's Common Room to peep at their girls."

"?" Jon lowered his head, dark lines appearing across his face. "Who came up with all these rumors?"

"I don't know about the others. That's just what people are saying. But I overheard the last one by accident when I heard your sister talking with Cedric."

Scaly chewed his salad absentmindedly and spoke with an innocent expression.

That really was... not surprising.

Jon pushed the last rumor out of his mind. He had no intention of dating at Hogwarts anyway, so a bad reputation was a bad reputation. The first two rumors, however, were worth paying attention to.

Did Hogwarts not assign enough homework? Why did these Young Wizards have time to investigate where he went?

He had been careless. Besides, Hufflepuff had other Pure-blood Wizards, so why were they paying so much attention to him?

It seemed he would have to take a night tour next time. Though he was still not very good at the Disillusionment Charm, it was better than being followed.

Jon shoved another spoonful of Mashed Potatoes into his mouth, sighed silently, then abruptly raised his head as if he had remembered something.

"You three keep eating. I'm going over to Ravenclaw."

Stephen and the other two watched Jon's hurried retreating figure, exchanged glances, and shook their heads.

Jon was naturally going to Ravenclaw to find Bella.

Of course, not to fight.

Leaving aside whether he could beat her, even if he could, he could not lay a hand on her. First, fighting a girl was wrong in itself. Second, if he beat up his own sister, did he still want to live when he went home?

His family would probably give him a combined beating.

He was going to ask for something.

Earlier, he had asked Bella to buy him something from Hogsmeade village. So much time had passed that he had no idea whether she had managed to get it.

"No."

Bella was equally straightforward, letting the two words drift lightly from her lips. "The thing you want is too bizarre. It has to be fluid, not leak, not break easily, be easy to squeeze, and preferably deform well. Where am I supposed to buy something that advanced for you? Hogsmeade isn't run by Santa Claus. Little brother, wake up."

Jon was speechless.

How was that thing advanced?

Wasn't it just slightly softer modeling clay?

Were wizard children's childhoods really so lacking?

Jon did not continue complaining. He decided to give up on the convenient route and do it himself.

It was almost October, and he still had not tried opening the drawer in the study. If he did not pick the lock soon, Christmas Holiday would be here!