198: A Trip to Hogsmeade · Part One

"Nolan, can I have a word with you?"

In the corridor, a fourth-year girl approached Nolan, tilting her head flirtatiously as she batted her eyelashes at him.

Miles and Montague, standing nearby, immediately began whispering to each other.

"Remember, Montague, how many does that make today?"

"Sixth one, I think." Montague shrugged indifferently. "I've never been great with numbers, unlike those Muggle-borns. You know that."

"Six… six girls!" Miles muttered enviously. "Why won't even one girl ask me out?"

Just then, a timid Ravenclaw girl hesitantly approached them.

"Miles Bletchley? Would you… like to chat?"

"FINALLY!" Miles' eyes lit up like Christmas lights. He practically leaped forward. "Of course! I'd love to!"

Montague clapped him on the shoulder. "Good luck, mate."

The Ravenclaw girl led Miles to a quieter corner of the hall. She was quite cute in a simple, unpretentious way—petite, barely reaching Miles' shoulder, with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. Her skin wasn't as fair as some of the other girls, but that only made her seem more natural and down-to-earth.

"So, Bletchley… tomorrow we're going to Hogsmeade, and I was wondering—"

"Yes! Absolutely! Whenever you want! Let's go right now if you'd like!"

Before she could finish, Miles eagerly cut in.

The girl blinked in confusion before her face turned beet red. "Uh… actually, I was hoping you could ask Lord Nolan about his plans. I… I really want to go with him."

The poor girl was so flustered she started fanning her face with her hands. "Nolan's been busy all day, and I couldn't find a good chance to talk to him… Oh, um… sorry? What were you saying just now?"

"Nothing important," Miles said flatly. "Nolan, is it? Sure, I'll ask."

"You're such a gentleman, Bletchley! I'll wait here! Thank you! You're truly a master at this!"

Miles, now completely drained, trudged toward the Great Hall. The Slytherin students were already seated. He plopped down beside Nolan, sighing as he tapped him on the shoulder and gestured toward the Ravenclaw girl still waiting outside the hall.

"Another one?" Nolan raised an eyebrow before rising from his seat.

"That makes seven now… Brave girls, all of them," Montague mused, smacking his lips. Then he glanced at the utterly defeated-looking Miles. "You holding up, mate?"

"Oh, just splendid." Miles slumped forward dramatically.

… 

Halloween—the night of the Cat Incident—had long passed.

Mrs. Norris had yet to be cured, and though Dumbledore had ensured that Harry, Ron, and Hermione weren't formally accused of anything, not everyone in the castle agreed.

A good number of students were convinced that it had to be Potter's doing.

Another group—led, unsurprisingly, by Draco Malfoy—believed that this was only the beginning, and that Muggle-borns were in serious danger.

But, up until now, the whole thing was mostly treated as a joke. After all, the only victim was a cat—one that no one particularly liked to begin with.

Honestly, if Mrs. Norris had been killed instead of just petrified, the general response would likely have been: "Well done, mate."

… 

As time passed and the weather grew colder, the gossip in the school shifted.

Everyone knew that the first Hogsmeade weekend was just around the corner.

Hogsmeade—the last remaining wizarding village in all of England—wasn't far from Hogwarts, and on select Saturdays, students were allowed to visit.

First and second years weren't permitted to go, which made this a particularly exciting event for the third-year Slytherins—it would be their very first time.

The boys, naturally, were more concerned about what they'd do once they got there. The most popular debate? What kind of drink would make them look the most sophisticated?

The girls, on the other hand…

Well, their conversation was focused entirely on something else:

Who would be the lucky girl to successfully invite Nolan Von Draugr on a date to Hogsmeade?

The sheer persistence of these girls was almost admirable. They never seemed to grow tired of the topic, endlessly discussing and speculating as though it were some grand competition.

"Oh no, she looks so disappointed."

A third-year Gryffindor girl, Alya, murmured to herself as she scribbled down a name on a piece of parchment.

"What are you doing, Alya?" Ginny Weasley, passing by, peeked at the list. "Is that… a hit list?"

"If I were the type to keep one, trust me, your name would be on it, Weasley." Alya grinned wickedly, looping an arm around Ginny's shoulder and pulling her into a whisper. "I'm observing Nolan. You might find it amusing."

Sure enough, no sooner had Nolan declined one Ravenclaw's invitation than a Hufflepuff girl swooped in to try her luck.

She was tall—even taller than Nolan himself. Standing upright, she practically loomed over him like a human fortress.

"Dura?" Alya's expression turned strange. "I thought she was a sixth-year?"

"And? Sixth-years can't ask Nolan out?"

A few feet away, a teary-eyed Gryffindor girl muttered bitterly.

"Oh—sorry, Lacia, that's not what I meant! Of course you can ask Nolan—"

"You enjoyed watching me get rejected, didn't you?" Lacia snapped. "If you have so much time to mock us, why don't you try asking him out yourself? Or are you just afraid of being rejected in public?"

"Er… I never really considered it…" Alya shrank back slightly.

Ginny sighed and snatched the parchment from her hands. Scanning the names listed, she clicked her tongue.

"This is a list of all the girls Nolan has rejected? He's a menace. Why do they keep trying even though they know he'll say no? Isn't it embarrassing?"

"How would they know for sure unless they try?" Alya muttered, watching as the rejected sixth-year Hufflepuff trudged back, red-eyed and sniffling. Sighing, she added another name to the list. "Next!"

Just then, Hermione arrived, her arms overloaded with a towering stack of books. She barely managed to set them down on the table with a thud!

"Did I miss something?" she asked, pushing her frizzed hair back.

"Evening, Hermione," Ginny said sweetly, serving her some ham. "Oh, it's nothing—just more of Nolan's admirers making fools of themselves. What's all this?"

"Research on the magic of stopping time!" Hermione's eyes practically sparkled. "Ever since I heard about Nolan's enchanted silver pocket watches, I've been investigating! It's fascinating! People have created magical objects that rewind time, but so far, no one has been able to make time stand still! I have no idea how he managed it!"

"Who knows?" Harry mumbled, absently flipping through his Charms textbook.

"Probably got kicked in the head by a mule. His brain's never worked properly." Ron, sporting dark circles under his eyes, let out an exhausted yawn.

"Merlin help us, I really hope Von Draugr doesn't invent something else soon. Hermione nearly killed us with her last research binge."