Jack was moved by Barnard's humble plea.
It was also stirred by Mr. Weasley's selfless devotion to the werewolves.
So, even though it disliked Freya's idea very much, it did not reject it.
In the cool night, it suppressed its restlessness and lay sprawled in a tree, watching the three young wizards argue and hesitate for a moment before finally deciding to enter the Devil's Snare under the protection of the magical fire conjured by the girl among them.
Sebastian, Jack, and Freya's group had not displayed any other particular traits because the Golden Trio was simply too reliable.
But elsewhere, as the practical lesson progressed and time passed, they gradually left far more complex impressions on the other young wizards.
Take Neville, for instance!
Frankly speaking, when he had been defeated, pounced on, and dragged into the forest by the Dire Wolf on the grass earlier, Neville had been terrified.
When that Dire Wolf smashed through his Shield Charm with its head, opened its bloody maw, and clamped him in its jaws, Neville had even thought up his own epitaph—Longbottom, useless and pitiful; people found his bones in a Dire Wolf's droppings.
Yes, the instant the wolf's jaws closed around him, Neville had felt that his life was over.
He did not have Harry's quick wit, Hermione's vast knowledge, or Ron's familiarity with Vaughn's personality. He firmly believed the practical lesson was real.
Then, amid Neville's faint sorrow and longing for his grandmother and his parents at St Mungo's, the Dire Wolf dragged him into the woods and beneath a banyan tree covered in aerial roots, where it set him down.
Set down with him were Seamus and Dean, his companions who had likewise been defeated and captured by the Dire Wolf.
Poor Seamus. If Neville had at least