The Early Riser
The sun had just begun to cast its rays upon the Hogwarts campus, gilding the castle towers with a faint golden hue.
Qiu tightened her Quidditch armor and carried her broom through the castle.
She yawned, feeling sleepy as if wrapped in a heavy blanket, but Qiu dared not slow her pace.
Wood, that Gryffindor Quidditch fanatic, started training the earliest, Ravenclaw didn't want to be outdone.
The path leading to the Quidditch Pitch extends from the side entrance of the main castle building, crosses a wide, gently sloping meadow, and goes close to the lakeside.
During training sessions or competitions, large numbers of students pass by.
It's also the route I usually take when I go for walks by the lake or to the edge of the Forbidden Forest to Care of Magical Creatures.
The road wasn't short, but the scenery was truly beautiful—backed by a castle, facing a lake and distant rolling mountains, the slopes were covered in golden hues in autumn and dotted with wildflowers in spring.
Unfortunately, Qiu, who was training early in the morning, had no time to appreciate the scenery.
She was cold and tired, but her love and passion for Quidditch kept her going.
After yawning again, Qiu noticed the faint, damp, and cold white mist that surrounded her.
Visibility wasn't too low, but the outline of the castle in the distance had become blurred.
"Water mist? It's quite thick..."
Qiu muttered something and switched the broom to another shoulder.
Suddenly, several shimmering streaks of light flashed through the mist, catching her eye.
That light wasn't sunlight—the sun hadn't yet reached this place.
It was a magical light, a faint silver and gold, that glided through the mist like a fish, leaving fleeting trails in its wake.
Qiu looked in the direction of the flowing light and saw two figures not far ahead.
She couldn't help but feel curious.
Keep in mind that Quidditch players like them are among the earliest risers in the school year.
Are there really people up this early?
And judging from their appearance, they've been busy for a while now.
The two men were waving their arms; they were probably casting spells with their wands.
Objects of various sizes and shapes float in mid-air, some rotating, some piecing together, radiating magical light of different colors.
Occasionally, a slight "click" sound can be heard, the sound of objects being assembled.
Qiu took a few steps forward and first made out one of the figures.
A tall, thin boy with dark hair and a receding hairline, he looks like an upperclassman. His house badge is Slytherin...
The other person had their back to Qiu, making it difficult for her to see them clearly.
Just as Qiu was about to look away and continue on her way, the person who had been facing away from her turned around.
In the morning mist, a boy's profile came into view.
Her features were defined yet soft, her skin was fair, her eyebrows and eyes were serene, and her dark green eyes were faintly visible through the mist.
Qiu blinked her beautiful black eyes.
Lucien?!
Qiu subconsciously quickened her pace.
"Thank you for your help, senior. Actually, I could have finished before class."
As Lucien embedded the rune-carved stone slab into the base of the Fountain of Fair Fortune, he thanked Riemann, who was helping him.
Riemann waved his hand and casually used his wand to adjust the position of a floating component.
"Don't mention it. I already sleep little and wake up early, and with graduation approaching, I have a lot on my mind, so I wake up before dawn. It was just a small favor to run into you."
He suddenly sighed, his tone tinged with regret:
"It's such a pity, really. While we were in Beauxbatons for the competition, Headmaster Dumbledore himself taught Alchemy. Merlin's cane! Do you know how happy those students who stayed at the school were?"
Lucien kept his hands moving, nodding with a smile.
"That's Dumbledore!" Riemann exclaimed, her voice tinged with obvious envy. "To be able to take his class and learn magic from him—that's such a rare privilege. I wish I hadn't participated in the competition; I could have just stayed at school and audited classes."
Lucien couldn't help but laugh out loud.
He recalled a casual conversation he had with Dumbledore, in which the Dumbledore said he wasn't really suited to be a principal and would be more comfortable as a professor or vice-principal.
"The students respect me, but they also 'fear' me," Dumbledore, holding his teacup, his tone helpless. "They dare not approach easily, dare not joke freely, and even tiptoe past the Headmaster's Office..."
Dumbledore suggested that it might be better if he and McGonagall switched positions, with McGonagall becoming headmistress, as she was far more capable of managing school affairs.
And he himself could then, just like before, mingle with the students in class, tell them interesting anecdotes from the History of Magic, or perform a little magic trick with candy wrappers to amuse the first-graders.
However, in Lucien's view, although McGonagall was nominally the vice principal, she had long since taken on most of the duties that a principal should have.
Dumbledore hand, is the backbone, the symbol, and the universally recognized flag bearer of the Wizarding World.
Professor McGonagall deserves the most credit for ensuring the smooth operation of Hogwarts day after day.
As Lucien turned his head to speak with Riemann, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure walking towards them out of the corner of his eye.
Her long black hair was tied into a high ponytail, swaying back and forth behind her head with her light steps.
He was wearing Quidditch gear and carrying a broom on his shoulder.
Even through the morning mist, those beautiful black eyes shone exceptionally bright.
Good morning, Qiu.