Breeze's Worries

"How did you get back?" Faner asked excitedly. But when he saw the suitcase in Breeze's hand and how pale he looked, concern crept into his voice. "What happened?"

The red in Breeze's eyes had faded, and the silver-white at the tips of his hair had returned to black. Now, however, his eyes were filled with helplessness.

"Nothing, Faner. I need to rest."

"Oh, of course. No, I mean, there's nothing here."

"I can sleep on the books and use my clothes as padding. Just for tonight. I'll figure something out tomorrow."

Breeze wasn't skilled enough at Transfiguration to turn clothes into a blanket, and he didn't dare use the Natural Magic Power inside him again. It was still reluctant to be hidden away by Breeze.

He piled books on the second floor to make a bed, opened his suitcase, and tossed his clothes onto the books. Then he took out his unusable shoulder bag and the scattered pages of his diary, and quietly put them away again.

"I'll always be myself. No one can try to change me—not even you, An Qing. I'm afraid of your memories."

There was no magic or anything unusual in An Qing's memories, but there were global conflicts and modern weapons. Their destructive power terrified Breeze, especially after he became a wizard. He understood that wizards and Muggles were different; at the very least, that was what both wizards and Muggles believed.

Breeze hated An Qing, yet was grateful to him. The two feelings weren't contradictory, especially not today.

"Let's just live in peace like this. That's the greatest concession I can make. I don't want to disappear from this world. I belong here..." Breeze's voice grew fainter and fainter. Lying on his hard pile of clothes, he soon fell asleep.

Watching Breeze's exhausted, fragile state, Faner slowly curled up beside his hand, hoping his warm body would make Breeze more comfortable.

What Breeze didn't know was that a great change was taking place inside him. Most noticeably, more and more Natural Magic Power was pouring from the light orb formed from An Qing's memories—or perhaps from more than just his memories—nourishing Breeze's body. The orb had also completely cut off those forces, giving them to Breeze as if in selfless devotion.

Meanwhile, in the Slytherin common room, some of the less important Little Snakes had already been sent back to their dormitories and ordered to keep quiet.

Whatever happened, this was Slytherin's own business. They absolutely couldn't let the other Houses—or even their Head of House, Snape—find out. The last Dungbomb incident had already been humiliating enough. If their Head of House hadn't forced the matter to be hushed up and then, with Headmaster Dumbledore's approval, issued a strict warning that anyone caught taking part or even discussing it would be expelled or put in detention, the other Houses would have been mocking Slytherin at their door by now.

And now, this was a conflict within Slytherin itself. No one had expected things to go this far. They had used precious Potions to save the few who'd been seriously injured, but they still needed to keep the matter under wraps for the next few days.

If Snape found out, all the Prefects would be finished. That was the last thing they wanted.

Malfoy sat silently on a sofa that had already been put back in order. First-years didn't have Prefects, so he was only there to listen in. Still, he hadn't expected that so many older students would fail to stop Breeze Order—and end up getting taught a lesson instead.

Those red eyes really were strange. But how could they give him such incredible power?

Malfoy glanced at the sixth-year male Prefect, who had recovered by now. The Shattering Curse Breeze had cast on him hadn't been that powerful, but the Prefect couldn't exactly be called useless.

Still, none of it had anything to do with Malfoy. He hadn't taken part at all, and had even warned everyone beforehand.

"I think we should leave this here for now and see how Breeze Order behaves."

As expected, after demonstrating his strength, Breeze had finally earned Slytherin's "acceptance." Now they would have to watch his attitude and act accordingly.

"Of course, we can't let him look down on Slytherin, either." The speaker was a seventh-year Prefect. He hadn't been there during the incident and had arrived only afterward, to find the common room looking like a battlefield.

The seventh-year glanced sharply at the students who hadn't joined in but had let Breeze petrify them. Then he said, "Now, tell those troublemakers that they'll be punished. Those Potions weren't cheap... Oh, right."

He turned to Masuku Flint, a tall, burly man with a prominent overbite.

The ringleader, Arnold Flint, was his cousin. He looked furious, though it was hard to tell whether he was angry at Breeze or Arnold.

"I think your brother's Prefect position should go to someone else. And as for him... Never mind. I don't think Breeze Order wants to see him. Don't go looking for trouble."

Masuku Flint frowned. "He's only a distant relative. He has nothing to do with me. I'm more concerned about this week's Quidditch practice and the tryouts for new players afterward."

Malfoy took note of Masuku's words, but first-years weren't allowed on the Quidditch team, so he turned away in disappointment. Then he heard that Flying Class would begin this Friday, and his eyebrows lifted with delight. It was some consolation, at least.

"Everyone, go get some rest. Since Breeze Order chose to leave, don't spread this around. Also... if anyone has time, look into this Zabini. When did a bloodthirsty viper like that show up in the Serpent's Lair? He nearly poisoned all of Slytherin."

Early the next morning, sunlight streamed in through the eastern window. The sudden change in light woke Breeze. His numb arms stiffly stretched out before he slowly sat up.

"Good morning, Breeze!"

Faner was already beside Breeze's hand, greeting him. Breeze touched his cold cheek, returned the greeting, and began looking for his textbooks. He had Charms class first thing that morning, taught by Professor Flitwick. The previous time, Professor Flitwick hadn't taught them any spells, only pronunciation and wand movements.

"You can wash up in the bathroom in the bedroom. I remember it's part of the Owlery, and it hasn't been sold."

Breeze nodded and tried to gather his strength for a new day.

After washing up, Breeze spotted a pile of Galleons and Sickles on the table. They seemed to belong to Faner.

Faner held his head high and said leisurely, "You can use that money to buy some things and bring them here. I'll keep an eye on the door. No one can steal them. This tower has magic, too. I can control it."

Breeze paused, then smiled and shook his head. "I guess this counts as running away from home in my own way. I even found myself a nest at school."

"Keep it for yourself. I have some savings."

Breeze leaned over the table and wrote a letter ordering a bed and some other necessities. Hopefully, Madam Malkin would accept the order. Otherwise, he'd have to ask one of the House-elves in the castle, but that wasn't safe—someone might find out.

There were plenty of school owls in Hogwarts' Owlery, located in a tall tower across from the East Tower—the West Tower. Breeze soon found it, called over one of the sturdier school owls, and gave him some Knuts as payment before tying the letter to him.

Only after watching the owl fly away did Breeze go downstairs for a meal. He was probably a little late, but it didn't matter. He had already gotten used to the staircases' routes and routines. Unless they played tricks on him, he wouldn't be late.

Just as Breeze expected, hardly anyone remained at the Slytherin table. Those who were still there didn't dare meet his eyes when he arrived. They lowered their heads or looked away, seeming both hostile and afraid of him.

Cedric, seated nearby, furrowed his brow with concern. Just as he was about to leave, he made a point of asking, "Breeze, are you all right?"

Breeze smiled and nodded. "I'm doing pretty well. At least they won't provoke me again. I think I can get through the next seven years just fine."

Cedric still looked worried. He felt there was something wrong with the situation.

"It was my choice, Cedric. But I should hurry to class, or I'll be late. If I lose House Points for that, I'll be miserable all afternoon."

Hearing Breeze's cheerful tone, Cedric didn't say anything more. He only smiled and watched him leave.

"Hey, Cedric, why's Breeze Order acting so weird today? He only ate two sandwiches..." one of Cedric's classmates asked in confusion. Cedric just scratched his head. He'd wanted to ask Breeze about it, too, but class really was about to start.

"Come on, we should get going, too. Even though our class is on the first floor today, we've already wasted some time."

"Oh, everyone, please sit down!"

The young wizards sat wherever they liked in the Charms classroom. Professor Flitwick wasn't strict and was even rather amusing, so the students weren't afraid of him. But once they'd spent some time with him, they all came to respect the tiny, half-Goblin wizard.

Yes, Professor Flitwick was a half-blood wizard who had to stand on books to reach the podium. Still, no one dared underestimate him.

"Now, today we'll begin learning spells in earnest."

Last week, a Gryffindor student had caused an explosion while learning the Levitation Charm. Cautious Professor Flitwick had therefore decided to give the Slytherin and Hufflepuff students a lesson on wand movements and pronunciation before teaching them any spells.

Breeze sat alone in the front row, with Malfoy, Pansy, and the others behind him. Pansy swallowed and forced herself to stay calm.

She'd seen with her own eyes what had happened to the people who'd angered Breeze that day. She'd mocked him before, too, and didn't know whether he'd take revenge on her.

He certainly would. Breeze had originally planned to cast a curse on Pansy to make her face break out in pimples, but there had been too many enemies at the time, so she'd been pushed down the list. Later, Breeze had forgotten about her. He'd get his revenge when the opportunity arose.

Malfoy looked at Breeze, wondering what he was up to. Leaving Slytherin was truly unusual. It had never happened in the entire history of the school.

Arrogant, overbearing, utterly defiant of the rules—like a madman who knew no fear. That was Malfoy's assessment of Breeze, and many of the Little Snakes agreed.

But Malfoy was wrong. Breeze wasn't arrogant. He preferred to plan carefully before acting. He was always rational and knew what he needed at every stage of his life.

Soon Professor Flitwick finished explaining the theory, and it was time for the practical part. The nervousness in the room was clear.

He handed everyone a feather.

"All you have to do is use a spell to make the feather in front of you float. If you manage that, you've succeeded."

"Remember, a swish and flick. The spell is Wingardium Leviosa. Draw out the final sound a little. It's 'sa,' not..."

Breeze casually took out his wand and pointed it at the feather...