Deep into the night, Hogwarts' bustle sank into slumber. Kayson, who had just reminded Yulian not to snore, was already snoring himself, the sound like someone sawing wood.
Yet Yulian had not fallen asleep. He closed his eyes and focused, his consciousness slipping quietly into the wondrous realm that belonged only to him: the Magic Resonance Library.
In the center of the library, Murphy, the black cat who called himself the "librarian," was sprawled on his back atop an open book titled Advanced Spatial Folding Theory—A Paper Crane Tutorial. His tail swished lazily from side to side, and every so often, his paw absently toyed with the edge of a page.
Yulian gave a light cough. "Murphy, wake up. I have something serious to discuss."
Murphy lazily lifted one eyelid, his pupils shining in the darkness like two differently colored gems. "Oh? It's you, little rookie. Here to ask about 'Animagus' again? Forget it. You still struggle to turn a match into a needle."
"I don't struggle with it. Wait, that's not what I meant!" Yulian said helplessly. "I want to find books about Magic Nodes. You know... the kind that can sense Earth Vein Energy? Or books about Guardian Stone Tablets?"
Murphy's ears suddenly pricked up, and his tail stopped swishing. He slowly sat upright and sized Yulian up with a look that said, You've got some nerve, kid.
"Magic Nodes?" He smoothed his whiskers with a paw, his tone suddenly turning solemn, with even a hint of scholarly affectation. "Hmm... there are some. For example, The Strings of the Earth: On the Resonance Frequencies of Europe's Three Primary Nodes, How to Form a Miniature Ley Line in Your Own Backyard, and that old standby from the Restricted Section—Even Voldemort Wants to Know: Node Stabilizers."
Yulian's eyes lit up. "Quick! Let me see them!"
Murphy, however, slapped his paws together and shook his head regretfully. "Insufficient authorization, dear little wizard. With your current level of mental power, you can barely manage Beginner Meditation: From Counting Sheep to Counting Magic Particles. Magic Nodes? If you casually flip through one of those books, you might wake up tomorrow to find yourself growing roots, or chatting with the castle's stones."
"Are they really that dangerous?"
"More dangerous than being chased by Peeves while he screams 'Snivellus' at you." Murphy jumped down from the pile of books, sauntered over to another shelf, hooked a book down with the tip of his tail, and tossed it to Yulian. "Here. Since you've already started Defense Against the Dark Arts, finish this one first and build a solid foundation. Stop dreaming of reaching the heavens in a single bound. Do you think you're Merlin reborn? Even Merlin had to learn not to blow his cauldron into the air when he was young."
Yulian caught the book. Its cover bore gilded letters: An Introduction to Defense Against the Dark Arts: From Screaming and Running Away to Elegant Disarming (Includes Three Anti-Werewolf Spray Charms).
"This... is way too basic, isn't it?" The corner of Yulian's mouth twitched.
"Basics are what keep you alive!" Murphy rolled over and lay back down on the advanced theory book, yawning. "Especially with the 'professor' you're dealing with now, who has a breathing sticky note stuck to the back of his head. Hurry up and learn something practical—like How to Pretend You're Just a Walking Stone When a Possessed Person Fixates on You."
Yulian: "...This book really has a chapter like that?"
Murphy narrowed his eyes and gave him a mysterious smile. "Chapter Three. Its title is The Art of Keeping a Low Profile: When You Don't Want a Dark Wizard to Have You for Breakfast."
Yulian: "...Thanks. I'll go back and memorize it right away."
He turned to leave, but Murphy lazily added, "Oh, and remember to bring some catnip next time. This librarian's been under a lot of KPI pressure lately and needs a little spiritual massage."
Yulian nodded, caught between laughter and tears, and his consciousness slowly withdrew from the library. Back in reality, he stared at the ceiling, seemingly still able to feel the texture of that "guide to running away" in his hands.
The next morning, Ravenclaw had no classes. Yulian slept in for once, partly because he had stayed up too late reading the night before. Yulian was not lazy, but neither was he as disciplined as the protagonists in other fan novels, who got up early to exercise every day without fail, rain or shine.
Yulian had discovered that as his magic grew, his body was naturally cleansed and improved by it, with effects even better than ordinary physical exercise. Of course, that might also have been an excuse he made for being lazy.
When Yulian arrived in the common room, he found that nearly all the new little eagles had already gathered together, excitedly discussing something. Quite a few little badgers from Hufflepuff had come as well.
They often attended classes with the Hufflepuff first-years, so they had the best relationships with them. Besides, they could not stand Slytherin's "cunning" or Gryffindor's "recklessness."
That afternoon, they would be attending their first Flying Class together with the Hufflepuff badgers. Everyone was looking forward to it, so many of the badgers and eagles had come to Ravenclaw's common room to continue the conversation they had left unfinished in the dining hall.
If Defense Against the Dark Arts had ignited their curiosity about danger—which Professor Quirrell had, of course, already extinguished—then Flying Class awakened the oldest and most romantic longing in every child's heart, whether wizard or Muggle: flight.
"I already practiced riding a broom with my uncle in Ambury Valley last year. My uncle said I'm a flying genius!" The speaker was the Hufflepuff Wayne Hopkins.
"What's that supposed to be?" Kayson Moretti immediately lifted his head from his Pumpkin Juice and nearly knocked over his cup. "I flew a Nimbus 1000 in our backyard when I was five! My dad said I was born to join the Quidditch team—Keeper? No, no, Seeker!"
"Stop bragging. The Nimbus Series wasn't even being manufactured when you were five." Ravenclaw's Terry Boot was clearly the sort who cared about historical accuracy. "I already checked. The Nimbus Series only began production three years ago."
"Either way, there's no denying I've got great eyesight. I can lock onto a fly fifty meters away, as long as it dares to move!" Kayson did not care about Terry's doubts and pulled out his model Golden Snitch again.
"Mhm, your eyesight really is a problem. Last time, you wrote your homework in letters smaller than flies, so no one could read it. Professor McGonagall sent it right back." Edgar exposed him without mercy.
"That was a lighting problem!" Kayson's face flushed. "Besides, I'd just finished drinking that hallucination-inducing Whizzing Tea!"
"By the way, does flying really feel good? I'm a little... worried." Muggle-born Justin Finlay did not say the word "afraid," but the fear on his face was obvious.
At that moment, Hannah Abbott, usually as quiet as a closed book, unexpectedly raised her voice. "Justin, don't worry. My uncle said that riding a broom for the first time feels like being kissed by the wind!" Hannah's little face flushed bright red. In truth, she had never ridden a broom either.
The first-years formed a circle and chattered excitedly about the afternoon's Flying Class. Ravenclaw's common room was rarely this lively.
Some said they would challenge a vertical climb, some said they would try doing a handstand in midair, and others swore they could tame a bad-tempered Comet 260—even though they had never touched a broom.
Their fervent commotion soon attracted the attention of the older students.
Roger Davies was leaning in an armchair beneath the starry domed ceiling, flipping through Advanced Quidditch Tactics Analysis. Hearing them, he could not help laughing. "Did you hear that, Cho? They're actually planning to use first-year wrist strength to tame a Comet 260? That broom is more stubborn than Peeves."
Cho Chang lifted a cup of hot cocoa, a gentle smile in her eyes. "Don't laugh at them, Roger. Weren't we the same back then? I still remember my first Flying Class. I was so nervous that I said 'Up!' as 'Down!' and the broom flew straight into Professor Sprout's Mandrake patch."
"Haha, at least you weren't like Michael, getting dragged around by his broom while it danced a waltz." Roger shrugged. Though his tone was teasing, there was no malice in it. "But speaking of which, Ravenclaw has a secret weapon like you this year. Give the other houses a nice 'surprise' when the time comes."
"I'll practice hard, but Ravenclaw still has too few promising Quidditch players. I wonder if any of the first-years have potential. That Yulian seems to be in pretty good shape."
"Yulian?" Roger frowned. "The way he walks makes him look like he's contemplating the fundamental truths of the universe. Are you sure he'll even dare touch a broom?"
"We'll know this afternoon."
Before you continue