Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Professor McGonagall, a rare smile, appeared on her face at the teachers' table. She glanced at the cheering students at the Gryffindor table, then at Kane at the Slytherin table, and murmured, "Three champions. The three champions of Hogwarts."

Snape, sitting next to her, twitched his lips slightly upon hearing this.

He didn't speak, but he raised his glass and gestured towards the Slytherin table.

It was a very small lift, but it did lift.

Professor Flitwick had already stood up, perched on his chair, cup in hand, his shrill voice echoing through half the Great Hall. "For Hogwarts!"

He shouted. The entire Great Hall echoed, "For Hogwarts!"

Moody didn't shout, didn't laugh, but his wooden leg tapped the floor under the table. A rhythmic, light tapping sound, like he was keeping time. His prosthetic eye was still moving, but he also picked up his glass. He didn't raise it, just brought it to his lips and took a sip.

Hagrid sat at the far end of the teachers' table, his glass three times larger than everyone else's, filled not with alcohol, but with butterbeer.

He took a big gulp, then wiped his beard with the back of his hand and grinned.

Three days after the first project ended, Hogwarts finally quieted down from the revelry.

No one in the hallway talked about Hungarian wood bees anymore, and the students began to return to their normal studies and homework.

Kane had just come out of the library, carrying three books about ancient runes in his arms. Igor was perched on his shoulder, his silver eyes half-closed, as if he were dozing off.

As he walked through the foyer, he saw Luna Lovegood.

She squatted next to a potted plant in the corner of the foyer, holding a slender silver branch in her hand, gently stroking the air as if trying to drive something away.

The carrot earrings swayed gently with her movements.

Kane was about to walk over, but Luna spoke first. "Don't move, there's a whole group of you around."

Kane stopped in his tracks. "A whole bunch of what?"

"Harassing horseflies."

Luna turned her head, her silver eyes looking at him intently. "The golden kind. Very rare. They usually only appear around—people who are troubled."

Kane looked down around. There was nothing there. "I didn't see anything."

"Because they're blocking your view."

Luna stood up and brushed the dust off her robe. "It clings to people who can't see their own feelings. The more dust there is, the less you want to face yourself."

Kane remained silent.

Igor flew off his shoulder, circled once in the air, and landed on Luna's silver branch.

Luna looked at the phoenix, her eyes lighting up. "Your phoenix can see them. It's not afraid of the harassing horseflies."

"Because it knows they don't exist," Kane said.

"Oh, they exist." Luna flicked the branch into the air as if shooing something away. "You just can't see them. Like those pesky horseflies—you can't feel them, but they're always circling around you."

She paused, tilting her head to look at Kane. "You have a lot more gold. More than before."

Kane did not respond.

He knew Luna's way of speaking—not serious, not unserious, but somewhere in between, leaving one unsure whether to believe her.

He was about to leave.

"You're wondering why Miss Granger's footsteps have been stopping right where you hear them lately, but never actually getting closer."

"Luna suddenly said. Kane paused in his tracks."

“I didn’t tell you,” Luna said calmly. “The harassing flies told me. They like to gather around people who have something on their mind.”

Kane turned around and looked at Luna.

"What did you see?"

Luna tilted her head, her carrot earring swaying gently. "I see a door in your heart. It's ajar, but you haven't opened it. Miss Granger is standing outside, wanting to knock, but too afraid to."

She paused for a moment. "That girl from Beauxbatons was different. She just walked right in."

Kane did not answer.

He knew Luna was telling the truth—Fleur had indeed pushed open the door, while Hermione was still lingering outside.

"Your harassing flies are decreasing." Luna looked in his direction, as if observing something. "They're starting to disperse. Maybe it's because you've begun to think things through."

"Think clearly about what?"

"Think carefully about what you want." After saying this, Luna turned and walked in another direction, her carrot earrings swaying gently beside her ears like two small lanterns.

Kane stood there, and Ig flew back to his shoulder, gently nuzzling his cheek. He watched Luna's figure disappear at the end of the corridor, the silver branch in his hand gleaming in the candlelight. "I haven't figured it out yet."

He said in a low voice. Igor called out again, "...I know."

Kane said, "But she's right."

He turned and walked into the corridor, with Igor flying in front of him, his dark golden feathers like a tiny lamp in the candlelight.

Some of what Luna said was nonsense.

But some are not.

He did have a door, ajar. And he'd been listening to those footsteps outside for quite some time.

The second project hasn't arrived yet, but for Hermione, everything is quiet.

It was so quiet it was almost unsettling.

She hadn't spoken to Kane for several days since the first project.

It's not that I don't want to talk, it's that I don't know what to say.

Now the whole school knows that Fleur is Kane's girlfriend.

She definitely couldn't go up to them.

Ginny noticed.

That afternoon, Ginny took the book she was pretending to read from her hand.

"Come on, follow me."

"Where to?"

"kitchen."

Hermione looked up.

"The house-elves' kitchen. You don't know where that is, do you?"

Ginny said, "I came here a few times when I was a child. Fred and George taught me."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, but then stood up and followed Ginny through the corridor, down the stairs, past a huge portrait of fruit.

Ginny reached out and scratched the pear.

The pear twisted and turned into a green doorknob.

Ginny turned the handle and pushed open the door. A wave of warm steam rushed out, carrying the aroma of toasted bread, stew, and some kind of dessert.

Dozens of house-elves were busy at the same time, some stirring the pot, some chopping vegetables, and some adding firewood to the stove.

When they saw Ginny, they let out a chorus of high-pitched greetings.

"Miss Weasley! Miss Weasley is here!"

"There are still guests!"

Hermione was pulled inside and pressed down onto a small chair.

A cup of hot cocoa was immediately placed in her hand, and she felt the warmth in her palm.

Miss Granger is unhappy.

A little elf wearing a tattered teacup sleeve said in a high-pitched voice, "Unhappy people will be happy after drinking hot cocoa."

Hermione looked down at the cup of hot cocoa in her hand. "I'm not unhappy—"

"Yes," the little elf said decisively, "Unhappiness is unhappiness. Drink."