The First Time He Ran Away

"My head was filled with someone else's memories."

Breeze hoped Faner could offer some advice. Unfortunately, Faner was useless. Just as he'd said, he was only a bronze lamp for lighting the way. At most, he could cast Scourgify and clean the place up.

Seeing the way Breeze looked at him, as if he were a good-for-nothing, Faner grew angry, but it was no use. All he could do was mutter, "At least I'm obedient."

Wasn't that what I'd said? Breeze's gaze grew even colder.

"Fine, I really don't know. But I understand your concerns. Possession has always been a thing, and the price is undoubtedly terrifying. I remember that fellow once considered using possession to prolong something, but he forgot he'd sold his soul to the Grim Reaper just to study Alchemy. Hahaha, he'll probably have to spend his whole life serving the Grim Reaper in hell."

When he mentioned serving the Grim Reaper, Faner excitedly flicked out his tongue, sparks flying.

Breeze shook his head and began trying the meditation method recorded in the diary, attempting to sense the magic power in nature.

As Breeze closed his eyes, Faner dutifully kept watch. When night fell outside the window, he burned with magic power to light the room for Breeze.

As time passed, Breeze seemed to enter an entirely new world. Though everything was dark, pinpricks of light appeared now and then, filling him with excitement. His soul seemed to break through the limits of his body. He watched himself sitting in the chair, gradually losing focus, while all around him, vibrant magic power pulsed and danced, brushing against his soul with a sense of familiarity. Breeze understood: this was the magic power that existed in nature!

Breeze had a feeling that if he tried to communicate with it, it would be willing to work for him. But that depended on whether Breeze was willing to use the Natural Magic Power in his body. At that thought, his face suddenly changed. There was another ball of light within him, constantly radiating power and affecting his physical body!

"No!"

Breeze's eyes flew open, bloodshot. Natural Magic Power surged violently around him, terrifying in its intensity. But when he came to, his pupils gradually returned to their pure black color, and the Natural Magic Power faded away, as if everything that had just happened had been an illusion. Sweat drenched him, and a chill ran down his damp back.

"What's wrong, little Breeze?" Faner asked nervously. He didn't want the person who replenished his lamp oil to have an accident.

"I'm fine." Breeze shook himself out of it and held his head, sinking into thought. When he remembered that ball of light—that is, An Qing's memories—he let out a deep breath and said, "I think I should put this research aside for now. I won't touch it again until I've figured out what it is."

Breeze backed away. The unknown could be fascinating, but it could also be frightening, especially when it involved his soul and body.

"Oh, it's best if you can think it through. Don't do those things. Your magic power is strong. Even without the power you call Natural Magic Power, you'll become a remarkable wizard one day. Maybe you could study the Alchemy here, as long as you don't go mad like that fellow." Faner worriedly climbed onto Breeze's wrist, seemingly to comfort him—or perhaps to warm him with his own warm bronze body.

"Thank you, Faner, but I think I should leave for now. I'll come back tomorrow."

Breeze smiled awkwardly. His stomach rumbled in protest. He hadn't eaten in almost a day, all because he'd been so fascinated by Natural Magic Power.

"Sure. I already figured as much. There's nothing here, after all," Faner said nonchalantly. "I'll show you out. Hurry back to the castle, before the wind in the tower gives you a cold."

"It won't. Even if I catch a cold, it won't stop me from coming back tomorrow. I'm really curious about the books here." Breeze had never gotten sick because of his Natural Magic Power. He hoped this time would be no different.

A little bronze snake saw Breeze to the door, but it couldn't leave the tower because of its restrictions. It couldn't even climb the Great Tree outside.

Breeze emerged from behind the portrait, which soon closed by itself. The corridor was dim, lit only by a torch in the distance. Breeze walked quietly down the passage.

"Chronos Reveal." Breeze waved his wand, and a misty clock soon appeared in the air. He'd found this little spell in a book in the Ravenclaw library that day. It had been well hidden, but Breeze's keen eye had spotted it. By piecing together a few not-so-complicated clues, he'd worked out how it functioned and cast it successfully.

"Eight o'clock. Hogwarts's curfew is at nine, so it's not too late yet."

Thinking of the kitchens Cedric had told him about earlier, Breeze set off along the route. He hoped Hogwarts's staircases wouldn't give him too much trouble, since the stairs at night were different from those in the daytime. They seemed designed to thwart anyone who liked sneaking around after dark.

"Oh, look who we have here—a lone little snake. Hahaha, Peeves is going to play a trick on him!"

Breeze could feel the damp clothes on his back turning cold and chafing against him when he heard Peeves's malicious laughter.

"Sorry, Peeves. I'm really hungry right now. Could you go bother someone else?"

Breeze felt a little helpless, but secretly took the wand from his wrist and held it in his hand.

Breeze knew about Peeves. He was called a ghost, yet he could touch physical objects and was immune to most spells. Even some professors couldn't do anything about him, so he was quite unusual.

But Peeves was afraid of the Bloody Baron, and as it happened... the Bloody Baron was Slytherin's resident ghost.

"Hey, Peeves, I'm a Slytherin student. I think the Bloody Baron would like you."

"Oh, don't talk nonsense. The Bloody Baron can barely protect himself... Oh no, you didn't hear anything! Hmph!"

With that, Peeves hurriedly slipped into the wall and disappeared.

Hmm. Breeze didn't dwell on it and hurried toward the kitchens. But his old idea of studying ghosts, which had come to him before he was sorted, resurfaced—and now he wanted to study Peeves.

The journey was uneventful. Apart from meeting a few late-returning Gryffindors and some Ravenclaws coming back from the library, nothing happened. The Gryffindors' glares were nothing much, but Hermione seemed just as bad as she had after class that noon—or worse. It made Breeze feel as if he were looking at himself.

"Did Hermione get the script that was supposed to be mine?" Breeze wondered. Had Gryffindor started copying Slytherin's cliques and hierarchy?

Hermione seemed to be deliberately avoiding everyone, or maybe she was still immersed in her studies, sulking as she studied. She glanced at Breeze and left, looking a little worried as she went. Breeze didn't know that when he descended the stairs, Hermione had turned back to look at him.

"Tickle the pear."

Even his hunger couldn't throw off Breeze's sense of direction. Hogwarts had over a hundred staircases, and their shifting mechanisms couldn't stop him. He soon found the portrait of the kitchens, hidden on the first basement level. As Breeze tickled the pear, a doorknob quietly appeared.

"Oh!"

Breeze opened the door and saw a large group of House-elves at work. They wore old aprons and seemed to be preparing ingredients for breakfast the next day.

They grew nervous when they saw Breeze. One House-elf who looked rather old rubbed his hands together and stepped forward. "Noble young wizard, what can we do for you?"

With dozens of pairs of big eyes watching him, Breeze felt a little uncomfortable. But thinking of the food they could make for him, he smiled warmly. "I missed dinner. Could you give me something to eat? It would be best if I could eat here."

Breeze didn't know what would happen if he brought food to the Slytherin common room, but he was sure he wouldn't enjoy eating it there.

"Oh, of course!"

"It would be our honor!"

The House-elves were thrilled, eager to bring Breeze food at once.

Following their directions, Breeze sat at a table beside the kitchen. Before long, they had brought out plenty of food. Breeze's eyes narrowed happily, and he started eating without the slightest restraint.

As Breeze ate, the House-elves' expressions changed again and again, as if they were about to faint with happiness.

They muttered, "The young wizard likes the food we made! He's a Hogwarts student. I must remember this day forever. I made that apple pie!"

"No, I made the steak. The young wizard likes this even more..."

After an elegant feast of unabashed gorging, Breeze rubbed his stomach and said, "Thanks for the meal. I've given you extra work."

"Oh, it's our duty."

"The young wizard is so kind. He gave us extra work..."

Breeze blinked, then thought of how House-elves were described. They were creatures who served wizards until death. Work from wizards was their very reason for living, and being left without work and scorned by a wizard would be what killed them.

Well, Breeze understood, but he didn't much like that strange attitude. Still, they weren't his kind, and he had no standing to make lofty pronouncements about it.

When Breeze left the kitchen, he still had some cookies given to him by the House-elves in his shoulder bag. He headed cheerfully for the Slytherin common room, ready to call it a day.

"Oh, look who's back—a little Slytherin crow returning from Ravenclaw Tower."

Breeze had heard enough of Malfoy's voice to be used to it. He had no time to talk to him just then. Now that he was full, his clothes felt unbearable, all sticky and damp.

"Tch, what kind of mud did you roll in? Honestly, you should mind your status. No matter what you do, you're a Slytherin, not a pig."

Malfoy could smell at least a dozen different scents on Breeze—sweat and all kinds of food. It was quite a feat for him to be so sensitive.

"Sorry, Malfoy. I'll leave right away."

Breeze looked at Malfoy, who was covering his nose, but made no move to leave.

But why were there so few people in the common room? Weren't they usually here at this time, forming cliques and plotting... ahem, holding a tea party?

"Stop giving me that rude look, Order. You should know that tomorrow is the weekend, and Slytherin is holding a private little banquet for the new students. Tomorrow, only those who are well prepared and those who are completely unprepared would waste their time here. Of course, you're the one wasting time, while I'm looking at the outfit list my father prepared for me."

Malfoy raised his head arrogantly and sneered. "If you ask me, I'll give you a set. I just gave one to Pansy."

"Um... what if I don't go?"

"What nonsense are you talking? Ha, I was an idiot to ask. You're a Muggle-born."

Malfoy turned on his heel without another word and returned coldly to the sofa in the common room, continuing to look at the pictures of the clothes he was going to wear tomorrow.