Wood was beside himself. In his final year, he had led the team to victory in the Quidditch House Cup. That evening, a grand celebration began in the Gryffindor Common Room.
Harry had broken both hands and was supposed to spend the night in the Hospital Wing, but George and Fred "stole" him out so the team's greatest hero could join the feast. At first, Wood kept fussing over Harry, but he soon got drunk—the twins had found some Firewhisky and plied him with it until he was thoroughly soused.
But to Will and Sylvia, it hardly mattered whether Gryffindor or Hufflepuff won. Their daily routine went on as before.
"You've basically figured it out." Will hadn't been guiding Sylvia much. He'd been busy these past two days, working on the construction of an Ancient Magic Core.
Sylvia was doing well with Sectumsempra—her talent for certain kinds of Dark Magic was unexpectedly strong.
"But I still don't understand that thing you said about magic structures, and I can't cast nonverbally either." Shattered fruit and scarred dummies lay scattered around Sylvia.
"All right, I'll explain it one last time." Will pulled over a piece of parchment and began to write and sketch. "You know this part already, right..."
Sylvia leaned closer to Will, a sly smile on her face. He always said he would explain it "one last time."
Half an hour later, Sylvia nodded. "Oh, so that's where the problem was..."
"Keep practicing, then. I've still got a bit of work to do." Will took a sip of grape juice and bent over his work, deep in thought. Silver light flickered from his wand now and then.
Sylvia watched Will lose himself in his own world, and the corners of her mouth rose before she realized it.
Whenever Will