Whose forehead was burning hot?

Brian's first afternoon tea with the professors proved immensely rewarding.

He learned the highly valuable fact that ancient magic existed from Professor Babbling; received a specially wrapped box of almond biscuits from the house-elves; had two boxes of special winter black tea bags pressed on him by Professor Sprout; and received a recommended reading list from Professor Flitwick. (Much of it overlapped with Madam Pince's list.)

He also received a VIP seat for the Quidditch match from Professor McGonagall-which meant he would have to watch the match that Sunday.

He hoped it wouldn't rain that day and looked forward to seeing the Gryffindor Quidditch Team shine.

On his way back to the library, Brian also encountered Hogwarts' caretaker-Mr. Filch.

He looked weather-beaten, with a somewhat vicious gaze. The color seemed to have leaked out of his sparse, graying hair and bleached his eyes as well. His companion was a cat with a dull gray coat named Mrs. Norris.

When Brian rounded the corner and met them, Mrs. Norris was curled up in Mr. Filch's arms, shivering.

The weather was too cold, and Mrs. Norris was far too thin-calling her skin and bones was no exaggeration. Still, Brian had to admit that the way she gazed lovingly at her owner was utterly adorable.

"You're young, with good hearing and quick feet. You have the potential to become a nightmare for students wandering around at night," Filch told Brian excitedly. "The library will be much safer with you here. You'll save me a great deal of trouble!"

"I'll do my best. Matching wits with the students can be fun, too." Brian nodded with a smile.

The Hogwarts staff all shared the task of patrolling the castle at night. He remembered his own school days, when he had matched wits with his teachers. Honestly, it wasn't very fair: back then, he had been up against Muggle teachers, whereas now he was up against magical students.

Our roles have switched, yet it's only gotten harder. Does that count as getting younger with age?

Brian thought again of the bold Weasley Twins. How am I supposed to catch two students who can turn invisible while sneaking around at night?

It was a question he had no choice but to consider.

Learn-or invent-a spell that could see through invisibility. That was the answer he arrived at after a brief moment's thought.

Besides that, Brian noticed that Mrs. Norris was shedding badly. Filch's coat was covered in long, fine cat hairs, which made him a little worried that his jealous book might shed as well. After all, both its front and back covers were furry.

His conversation with Mr. Filch came to an equally abrupt end. The sound of a light bulb smashing on the floor upstairs instantly sent Mr. Filch into a rage. What little fur Mrs. Norris had left stood on end, and her sharp claws sprang out.

"I must go, Brian. See you next time!" he said, his eyes bloodshot, before charging toward the stairs and bellowing, "Peeves! Just you wait! I'm bringing the Bloody Baron to deal with you!"

"Watch your step," Brian called after him.

Then he faintly heard a few exaggerated taunts from upstairs:

"Come and catch me! Come and catch me! Baldy and the stupid cat! Baldy and the stupid cat! Lord Peeves invites you to eat farts!"

Brian knew about Peeves, the troublemaker who had plagued countless generations of Hogwarts students and teachers. He was supposedly a spirit in charge of pranks. Students repeatedly came off worse against him, and even professors were occasionally harassed. Apparently, the only person he feared was Dumbledore.

"I hope I don't run into Peeves too often," Brian said, sincerely wishing himself luck.

When Brian returned to his room, he was utterly dumbfounded. He even found himself thinking, Maybe Peeves has already visited my room.

The cabinet was askew, the trunks had been overturned, and books lay scattered haphazardly in every corner of the room. His jealous book lay motionless at the very top of a pile of books. It looked as though it had breathed its last, but somehow... it seemed much thicker?

"Book! What happened to you?"

Reacting quickly, Brian stepped through the gaps on the floor and hurried over to the book.

"What happened?"

Sensing Brian's arrival, the book struggled to shift two centimeters.

Brian breathed a sigh of relief and worriedly picked the book up-no, heaved it up. Yes, it really had grown much thicker and heavier, but it didn't look healthy after its growth spurt at all. Instead, it looked sickly.

Does Madam Pomfrey have any experience treating books? The thought suddenly popped into Brian's head.

"...Wait, did you do this?" he asked the book.

This time, the book didn't move. Brian knew he had found the culprit, but the culprit didn't look to be doing well. He decided to put everything in the room back in order first, then have a proper talk with the book about wrecking the place.

"...I really need magic." Faced with his wrecked room, a thoroughly unhappy Brian spoke from the heart.

If he had already mastered the Mending Charm, all he would need to do was wave his wand, and the room would return to its former peaceful state.

But he hadn't. Unfortunately, learning magic took time. He had only been at Hogwarts for a day and had possessed a wand for less than half of that. With all the strange things he had encountered, there simply hadn't been time.

Perhaps he could ask the Hogwarts house-elves for help, or perhaps he could deal with the mess the Muggle way-with patience and time. Either way, his desire to learn magic had never been stronger.

Just then, he felt the book in his arms begin to stir again. Honestly, he was rather helpless when it came to this troublesome little thing. All he could do was gently stroke the book and reassure it:

"It's all right... I'll take care of it... Book? Why are you glowing?"

The book wasn't merely glowing; it was giving off heat, too. Brian suddenly felt as though it had stuck itself to his chest, like a glaring floodlight running at full power with no distance between them at all!

The intense light forced him to avert his eyes. He tried to pull the book away, but even using force got him nowhere. Worse still, the heat radiating from it kept washing over his body!

"Ugh..." Brian struggled to sit back on the bed. He couldn't hold out much longer.

Wave after wave crashed over him like surf battering a reef-except the waves were boiling water, and he, the reef, was flesh and blood. Damn it, he was twenty-five this year, yet he had unexpectedly rediscovered the sensation of running a forty-degree fever at seven years old.

"I... fireworks..." Brian remembered Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis. Judging by what was happening now, he might really explode.

"No..."

Brian still wanted to try to save himself, but the human body had its limits. Reluctant yet helpless, he passed out.

He fell spread-eagled onto the bed with a dull thud.

Only the ticking of the clock remained in the room.

By the time Brian woke again, the hour hand on the wall had swept through a right angle.

He sat up blankly and remained dazed for a while before his hazy memories came flooding back.

"Huh?!"

Brian's eyes widened, and he hurriedly felt his forehead. His temperature was normal: neither frighteningly hot nor cold as a corpse. Nor did anything horrifying happen, such as his hand passing straight into his head-

Several Hogwarts ghosts had done that right in front of him. It was extremely eerie.

"Whew..."

Thankfully, he was still very much alive. Only then did Brian have a chance to inspect his surroundings. Looking around, he found the room just as chaotic as before. Nothing seemed to have changed since he had passed out. Wait, where's the book that changed?

"Ah... you're still here." Brian lowered his head and sighed in relief.

The book was still stuck to his chest, though for some reason it had returned to its original size.

"Are you... all right?" He took the book in his hands.

The book wobbled a little, then slowly conjured a cosmetic pencil and drew a check mark.

At the sight of this familiar scene, Brian finally relaxed. He knew the changes in his body were unquestionably connected to the book, and he needed answers. First, however, he had to visit the Hospital Wing again to get himself checked.

He stood up. The messy room before him really made him uncomfortable.

So Brian drew his wand and said quite naturally:

"Reparo!"

Invisible magic went to work. The crooked cabinet returned to its place, the scattered books flew into the trunks, and order was restored to the room. Brian surveyed his room with satisfaction, then froze.

"Me? Reparo? Since when?"

Brian gaped at the wand in his hand, then looked around the room and pinched his thigh hard. Hiss-that really hurt. His mind was completely blank. No, that wasn't right. How could there be any empty space left in his mind?

An enormous amount of magical knowledge was practically overflowing from his head!