CHAPTER 16

Everyone except me and the first-years dispersed in various directions, splitting into groups based on their interests. Most likely, many were heading to bed—their eyes betrayed fatigue and relief, trusting their familiar walls to shield them. For us, Cedric delivered a speech about the wonders of Hufflepuff house—its friendliness and diligence—and mentioned a school rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Because of this, we needed to "keep our finger on the pulse." If we wanted to befriend students from those houses, we should always anticipate possible arrogant aggression from Gryffindors or cunning setups from Slytherins, as—sadly—many viewed our house as a den of simple-minded dullards.

"Hector," the prefect addressed me casually, having just instructed a few students to settle the first-years. "You enrolled straight into third year, didn't you?"

"Exactly," I nodded seriously.

"No need to be so formal," Cedric said, maintaining his ever-present smile.

I couldn't tell why, but it didn't feel entirely natural—more forced than unnatural. Yes, that fit better.

"Let's step aside," he gestured invitingly to an empty sofa, beside which a remarkably neat boy my age sat in an armchair, his dark hair parted impeccably, staring boredly into the fireplace.

"Justin," Cedric said to the boy in the chair.

"Huh? Yeah?" The boy glanced up at us. "Cedric—something wrong?"

"You could say that," the prefect turned to me. "You see, Hector, it's tradition in our house that first-years initially attend classes and breaks with prefects or designated guides—to get familiar with the routes, the castle, the classrooms, and all that."

"I think I see the issue," I nodded, mirroring Cedric's smile.

My gesture made him pause for a split second, but he resumed almost instantly, and I thought I caught a slight nod—to himself, perhaps.

"Of course, we usually assign seniors to first-years at the start, but it's strictly voluntary. This year, we don't even have enough seniors for the first-years one-on-one—let alone a third-year. Justin…"

Diggory turned back to the boy, who'd been listening intently.

"You won't leave a new housemate in the lurch, will you? Help Hector settle in?"

"We will?"

"Yes—you, Justin, Zacharias, and Ernie."

"Our schedules might differ."

"What? Oh, right—how could I forget? Hector, what extra subjects did you take?"

"Extra? No one mentioned anything about that."

"Hmm…" Cedric mused, while Justin sat quietly, gazing into the fireplace. "But you have textbooks for all subjects?"

"Yes—all of them, mostly. Even that jaw-dropping Care of Magical Creatures book."

"A jaw book?" The prefect blinked, glancing quizzically at Justin, who flinched.

"A dreadful book," the boy grimaced. "I was shocked at first. But knowing Hagrid's the teacher now, I get why it's on the list."

For now, I shifted my gaze between Cedric and Justin, playing the part of a simple, understanding, reserved boy—though I am one. That book was hilarious—big, with an eye, acting like a living jaw. I'd quickly figured out you stroke its spine to open and read it calmly—a telltale ridge gave it away.

"I see," Cedric smiled again. "Hagrid's truly unique. Look, Hector—you need to pick two extra subjects: Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, or Arithmancy."

"In that case…" I pondered briefly. "Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes."

"An unexpected combo."

"Yeah," Justin nodded. "We all picked Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, or Muggle Studies. No one bothers with the rest. Hector, why Creatures and Runes?"

"You can figure out other subjects from books—they're clear enough. Understanding animals is best done hands-on, and Rune books are too abstract. Muggle Studies… well, you get it."

"Right," Cedric nodded. "A dubious subject for a Muggle-born. I'll check with the other prefects about Runes. One more thing—how are you with magic?"

"Practical skills or theory?"

"Both."

"I've mastered the theory—no practice at all. But I learn fast."

"Hmm, let's test that," Cedric said, his smile widening as he drew his wand from an inner robe pocket and pointed it at a parchment sheet on a nearby table.

The sheet swiftly transformed into a feather without fanfare.

"Take your wand and cast a levitation charm on it."

Pulling my wand from the holster on my forearm—crafted unnoticed from my mother's old, worn-out boot destined for the bin—I made the proper motion, released my magical control, and said, "*Wingardium Leviosa**."

A trickle of my magic surged to the wand and flowed out in a faint stream, enveloping the feather. It lifted and hovered merrily above the table, responding to my wand's movements. Yet I sensed no particular structuring—just raw magic wrapping the feather, maintaining a simple link for interaction. What's happening? Why? It's unclear, but fascinating.

"Excellent," Cedric nodded, pleased, and smiled at me. "You've never tried this spell before?"

"No—nor any other program magic."

"Impressive," Justin said, eyeing the floating feather with interest as I canceled the spell. "You're like Hermione—casting with almost no practice. We'll breeze through the material then."

"By the way," Cedric perked up, sitting a bit straighter with an air of importance, "are you, Hector, related to Hermione Granger by any chance?"

"Yes—her brother. Does it matter?"

"Not really," Cedric shook his head, though Justin disagreed.

"Well, she's the top student—not just in our year, but overall. Everything's always perfect with her studies."

"Alright, boys," Cedric stood from the sofa, and we followed suit. "I won't keep you longer. If I've read the schedules right, your classes start with Potions tomorrow."

"Oh no…" Justin groaned, prompting a rare, genuine smile from the prefect. "Come on, Hector—I'll show you the room. Don't worry about the magic; we'll help you catch up ourselves."

We left the gradually emptying house common room, passing through the round doors into a corridor lined with more round doors. Hobbits, honestly!

The room I'd been assigned with the other third-year boys echoed the common room's warm, light palette, complete with round windows. Four of the six deep niches held sizable wooden beds with yellow canopies—matching the house robe linings—each with thick curtains to create a cozy personal nook. The niches also had space for a chest, plus a small table and chair. The room itself was spacious, boasting a large table, chairs, a sofa, armchairs, and two remaining niches turned into cluttered storage corners by student hands.