First Escape

"I have the memories of another person in my head."

Breeze hoped Faner could offer some constructive advice, but unfortunately, Faner was a useless thing. Just as it had said—it was merely a bronze lamp for illumination, capable at most of casting cleaning charms to tidy up a room.

Seeing the look of disdain in Breeze's eyes, as if he were looking at trash, Faner grew angry, but it was to no avail; it could only mutter, "At the very least, I am obedient."

Isn't that my own line? Breeze's gaze turned even colder.

"Fine, I truly do not know, but I understand your concerns. Possession is something that has always existed, but the price for such a thing is undoubtedly terrifying. I recall that fellow once considered using possession to prolong something, but unfortunately, he forgot that he had already sold his soul to Death just to study alchemy. Ha, I fear he will be a servant of Death in hell for all eternity."

When mentioning the word "servant," Faner flicked its tongue excitedly, sparks flying.

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

Watching Breeze close his eyes, Faner dutifully stood guard, burning its magic to provide light for Breeze as the night descended outside the window.

As time passed, Breeze seemed to enter a brand-new world. It was pitch black, yet the occasional sparks of light that emerged filled Breeze with excitement. Breeze's soul seemed to break through the limitations of his physical body, watching himself sit in the chair as he drifted off, while all around him was vibrant magic, dancing constantly and clinging affectionately to Breeze's soul. Breeze understood: this was the magic that existed in the natural world!

Breeze had a premonition that if he tried to communicate with them, they would be willing to act on his behalf, but this would require him to be willing to expend the natural magic within his own body. At this moment, Breeze's expression changed abruptly, for within his own frame, there was a ball of light constantly radiating power, influencing his physical body!

"No!"

Breeze's eyes widened, bloodshot and red. Natural magic spread violently throughout his body, which was terrifying, but when he jolted awake, his pupils gradually returned to a pure black, and the natural magic receded, as if everything just now had been an illusion. He was covered in sweat, his back damp and shivering with a chill.

"What is wrong, little Breeze?" Faner asked, somewhat nervously; it certainly did not want this person who replenished its lamp oil to meet with an accident.

"It is nothing." Breeze shook his head, clutching his temples as he sank into deep thought. When he thought of that ball of light—the memories of An Qing—he let out a long breath and said, "I think I must put this research aside for now. I will not touch it again until I have figured it out."

Breeze had retreated. Unknown things could be fascinating, but they could also be terrifying, especially when they concerned one's own soul and body.

"Oh, it is for the best that you can see reason. Do not do those things. Your magic is very powerful; even without the power you call natural magic, you will be a remarkable wizard in the future. Perhaps you could study the alchemy here, as long as you do not become as insane as that person." Faner crawled onto Breeze's wrist, seemingly in comfort, or perhaps wanting to warm Breeze's body with its own heated bronze frame.

"Thank you, Faner, but I think I must leave now. I will come back tomorrow."

Breeze smiled awkwardly as his stomach let out a dissatisfied rumble; he had not eaten for nearly a day, all because of this fascinating natural magic.

"Very well, I had anticipated this, after all, there is nothing here." Faner said indifferently, "I shall see you out. Return to the castle quickly; do not catch a cold from the tower winds."

"I will not. Even a cold could not stop me from coming here tomorrow; I am quite curious about the books here." Breeze had never been sick because of natural magic, and he hoped this time would be the same.

He was escorted out the door by the small bronze snake, which could not leave the tower due to its restrictions; it could not even climb the large tree outside.

Breeze stepped out from behind the portrait, which quickly closed on its own. The corridor was dim, illuminated only by a torch in the distance, and Breeze walked softly down the hallway.

"Tempus," Breeze waved his wand, and a misty clock soon appeared in the air. This was a small charm Breeze had seen in a book in the Ravenclaw library today. It was hidden quite deeply, but it could not stump Breeze's keen perception; by piecing together some not-too-complex fragments, he had found the principle and cast it quickly.

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

Thinking of the kitchens Cedric had told him about, Breeze prepared to follow the route, hoping the Hogwarts staircases would not make things too difficult for him, as the stairs at night were different from those during the day, seemingly designed to target those who liked to wander after hours.

"Oh, look who it is, a lone little viper. Hahaha, Peeves is going to tease him."

Breeze felt the chill on his still-damp clothes, which made him uncomfortable, and then he heard the malicious laughter of Peeves.

"Apologies, Peeves, I am very hungry right now. Could you go tease someone else?"

Breeze felt somewhat helpless, but he still secretly gripped the wand on his wrist.

Breeze knew about Peeves. It was said to be a ghost, yet it could touch physical objects and was immune to most spells; even some professors could do nothing about it, which made it quite special.

However, it feared the Bloody Baron, and as it happened... the Bloody Baron was the house ghost of Slytherin.

"Hi, Peeves, I am a student of Slytherin. I think the Bloody Baron would like you."

"Oh, stop talking nonsense! The Bloody Baron has enough trouble of his own... oh no, you heard nothing, hmph!"

Having said that, Peeves scrambled into the wall in a panic and vanished.

Hmmph. Breeze did not dwell on it and hurried toward the kitchens, though the idea of studying ghosts—which he had entertained even before the Sorting—surfaced once more, now upgraded to studying Peeves.

The journey was smooth. Apart from encountering some Gryffindors returning late and a Ravenclaw coming back from the library, there were no surprises. The glares from the Gryffindors meant nothing, though Hermione was the same as she had been after class at noon, or perhaps even worse, which made Breeze feel she was a bit like him.

Did Hermione take my script? Breeze was puzzled. Could it be that Gryffindor was also learning from Slytherin to engage in isolation and hierarchy?

It seemed Hermione was deliberately avoiding everyone, or perhaps she was still immersed in knowledge, studying out of spite. She only glanced at Breeze before leaving, though she had a worried expression as she walked away, and what Breeze did not know was that as he went down the stairs, Hermione had looked back.

"Tickle the pear."

Driven by hunger, even the hundred-plus staircases of Hogwarts that constantly shifted their mechanisms could not hinder Breeze's sense of direction. He soon found the portrait of the kitchen hidden on the basement level. As Breeze tickled the pear, a doorknob quietly appeared.

"Oh!"

Breeze opened the door and saw a large group of house-elves working. They wore old aprons and seemed to be preparing ingredients for tomorrow's breakfast.

They were very nervous when they saw Breeze. One of the older-looking house-elves rubbed its hands and stepped forward, saying, "Noble young wizard, do you have any orders?"

Breeze felt a bit uncomfortable being watched by dozens of large eyes, but thinking that they would cook for him, he smiled kindly and said, "I missed dinner. Could you give me some food? Preferably, I would like to eat here."

Breeze did not know what would happen if he brought food into the Slytherin common room, but he certainly would not enjoy eating it there.

"Oh, of course!"

"It is our honor!"

The house-elves were very excited, eager to serve Breeze food immediately.

Breeze followed the house-elves' guidance and sat at a table by the side of the kitchen. Before long, many dishes were served, making Breeze squint his eyes in happiness as he began to eat without ceremony.

As Breeze ate, the complexions of the house-elves shifted repeatedly, as if they were about to faint from sheer happiness.

They muttered, "The food we prepared was enjoyed by the young wizard! He is a student of Hogwarts; I must remember this day forever. That apple pie was made by me!"

"No, the steak was made by me, the young wizard liked that even more..."

Following an elegant feast, Breeze rubbed his stomach and said, "Thank you for the hospitality. I've added to your workload."

"Oh, this is what we are meant to do."

"The young wizard is so kind, he even gave us more work..."

Breeze blinked, his mind drifting to the descriptions of house-elves—creatures that served wizards until death. To them, the work assigned by a wizard was their very life; to have no work or to be shunned by a wizard was what truly cost them their lives.

Very well, Breeze could understand it, but he didn't particularly care for this strange attitude. However, as they were not of his own kind, he had no standing to spout high-minded platitudes.

Leaving the kitchens, Breeze had a small bag of cookies gifted by the house-elves tucked into his satchel. He walked briskly toward the Slytherin common room, ready to end this busy day.

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

Breeze had heard Malfoy's voice enough to be used to it. He had no time to speak with him for the moment; after such a full meal, his clothes were making him feel quite uncomfortable and sticky.

"Tsk, what kind of mud did you go rolling in? Honestly, you need to mind your status. No matter what else you are, you are a Slytherin, not a glutton."

Malfoy had sniffed at least a dozen scents on Breeze, from sweat to various foods; it was quite a feat for his sensitive nose.

"Apologies, Malfoy. I'll be out of your way."

Breeze looked at Malfoy, who was pinching his nose, yet he had no intention of leaving immediately.

Still, why were there so few people in the common room? Usually, at this hour, weren't they all busy forming cliques... ahem, holding evening tea parties?

"Wipe that impolite look off your face, Order. You should know that tomorrow is the weekend, and Slytherin is preparing to hold a private banquet for the new first-years. Tomorrow, the only people wasting time will be those who are either fully prepared or completely unprepared. Of course, you are the one wasting time, while I am reviewing the list of robes my father prepared for me."

Malfoy lifted his chin haughtily and added with disdain, "If you beg me, how about I gift you a set? I just gave one to Pansy."

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

"What nonsense are you spouting? Hah, I'm the fool for asking—you, a Mudblood."

Malfoy turned on his heel without a second thought, walking away to sit coldly on the common room sofa, continuing to look at the photographs of the clothes he would wear tomorrow.