Anchor Set in Place

The Golden Rose turned into golden dust and drifted through the air. The entire illusion surrounding Aisling began to dissolve, layer by layer, into golden mist.

She immediately drew on her magic, trying to stabilize the prophetic vision before her and see more details. But the illusion continued to collapse beyond her control, fading bit by bit into the mist.

Aisling refused to give up. She manipulated the remaining mist around her once more, forcibly activating the divination magic. This time, only a brief and blurry scene emerged:

Roy wore an unmistakably disgusted expression. With his wand in hand, he aimed it at her collapsed body without hesitation and cast a Stupefy.

The moment she saw her illusionary self struck by the spell, the prophetic mist completely dispersed. Aisling abruptly came back to herself and opened her eyes, finding herself back in the Slytherin common room.

"Damn it, what did that mean?"

Aisling muttered a curse under her breath, her gaze falling on the Prophecy Hookah—the skull on its body had closed its eyes. Clearly, she would have to wait for it to recharge before using it for another prophecy.

There was nothing else she could do for now. Aisling picked up the hookah, took out her wand, and lightly tapped the ghostly green fireplace burning in the common room. The flames instantly went out, leaving only a few scattered sparks. By the faint glow at the tip of her wand, she felt her way slowly through the dim common room toward the dormitory.

It was nearly midnight. The dormitory was silent, and her roommates were already fast asleep. As she passed their beds, she could hear the steady breathing from beyond their curtains.

Since Aisling had told her roommates beforehand that Dumbledore had summoned her, none of them worried that anything was wrong with her being out so late.

Aisling quietly made her way to her bed, found a concealed corner of a cabinet, and carefully placed the hookah inside. Its appearance was far too eerie; the dark patterns carved into its body and its skull decoration would make anyone suspect it was connected to Dark Magic. Though Slytherin was more accepting of such things than the other houses, Aisling still did not want people talking about her, much less labeling her as someone involved with Dark Magic.

Yet after lying down in her bed, Aisling could not sleep at all. The scenes from the prophecy kept replaying in her mind, especially the immense magical power that had erupted when the Golden Rose was crushed into glittering dust.

What spell was that? Why did it possess such overwhelming golden magic?

The next morning, just as the stone doors of the Slytherin Common Room opened, Elliott, the Head Boy, strode out with several lackeys in tow. The moment he stepped outside, he caught sight of Aisling standing alone beside the corridor, elegant and straight-backed, her expression cool as if she were waiting for someone.

In Slytherin, where strength was worshipped, Elliott was undoubtedly the leader among the students. Used to throwing his weight around in the house, he also understood that this young witch from the Grindelwald family was someone he could not afford to provoke, whether because of her power or her background. To show goodwill, Elliott deliberately stepped forward to greet Aisling.

In Roy's words, bullying the weak while fearing the strong was Slytherin's most distinctive trait.

Seeing the barely noticeable hint of flattery on Elliott's face, Aisling maintained her aloof and haughty manner. She did not even raise her eyes as she said evenly, with unquestionable authority, "Do not cause trouble for that Hufflepuff student. You know who I mean. This is what Dumbledore and the Head of House want. Just keep it in mind."

Elliott was certainly a clever man. Hearing Aisling say this, he immediately patted his chest and promised, even asking her to tell the professors that he absolutely would not do such a thing.

Aisling did not say another word. After giving him a glance, she turned and left down the corridor.

"Damn it, are we just going to let that Hufflepuff Mudblood humiliate Slytherin like this?"

Once Aisling had completely vanished around the corner, Elliott's lackeys immediately exploded, cursing indignantly. "Damn it, that Hufflepuff Mudblood humiliated Slytherin, and we're just letting it go? That's pathetic!"

Elliott's face darkened, and he barked sternly, "Can't you understand what the Headmaster and the Head of House meant? None of you are allowed to cause trouble during this time. Behave yourselves!"

Seeing Elliott's obvious fury, the group fell silent one by one.

Elliott snorted coldly and led his little band of followers toward the dining hall, still strutting arrogantly.

The Hufflepuff dormitory was an entirely different scene that morning. The instant Roy opened his eyes, he knew without even thinking that Cedric had gotten up early again to preview the day's lessons.

Roy was extremely dissatisfied with this sort of academic competition within the dormitory. Yet there was nothing he could do but surrender in the end.

"Fine! If he reads, I'll read too. He's reading The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, so I'll read Alchemy Potion-Making!"

Roy grabbed a book he had borrowed from the Restricted Section from his bedside table and flipped it open with exaggeratedly loud rustling.

The sound of pages turning in the morning woke Gabriel and Connor from their dreams. A roommate gaming could make as much noise as he wanted and they would ignore it, but a roommate studying could keep them awake all night.

Even though they knew they could not match Roy and Cedric academically, Connor and Gabriel could only pick up the day's textbooks under such circumstances and helplessly begin their morning review.

And so, Hufflepuff's new day of morning study began.

At breakfast, every student and teacher in the school noticed the distinctly different atmosphere at the Slytherin table.

Yesterday, those pure-blood supremacists had been so aggressive that they had practically wanted to rush over and overturn the Hufflepuff table. But today, they had restrained themselves considerably, appearing calm and well-behaved on the surface.

Roy saw through them at a glance. The venomous snakes of Slytherin had not changed their malicious intent to bite in the slightest; they had merely hidden their fangs for the time being.

Seeing this, the young Hufflepuff wizards all breathed sighs of relief. Many believed that with Dumbledore stepping in, Slytherin had no choice but to accept defeat.

Roy sneered inwardly. A biting dog did not bark; he understood that simple truth all too well. Back in the spaceflight corridor, Havoc's Red-Haired Mad Dog had chased after him trying to bite him. Slytherin's current restraint was exactly like the Red-Haired Mad Dog's serene patience while waiting for its ultimate move's cooldown.

After breakfast, everyone prepared to head to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. At that moment, Bill Weasley of Gryffindor quietly approached Roy, lowered his voice, and left him with a brief warning:

"Be careful of the Slytherin students. They definitely won't accept defeat."

Roy gave him an unobtrusive gesture to show he understood. Seeing the meaningful smile on Roy's face, Bill smiled knowingly and turned to leave.