Simultaneously traversing: the pinnacle of all realms

"What are you thinking about?"

Hannah Abbott sat across from him, staring at him in a daze with curiosity.

"Thinking about what to eat for Halloween dinner."

Xavier certainly thought so.

It has to be said that the house-elf's cooking skills are superb; he's already decided that he'll definitely find some recipes to bring over later.

Hannah's eyes lit up:

"I heard from the prefect that every year at the Halloween dinner there are baked pumpkin pies and syrup pies, and also—"

Susan Bornes interjected,

"And there are giant pumpkin lanterns! Professor Sprout grew them himself; they're bigger than a carriage!"

Ernie McMillan peeked over from the side.

"By the way, have you heard? Potter from Gryffindor is going to have his first Quidditch match."

"Which college are we playing against?" Justin asked.

Slytherin.

Then Ernie lowered his voice, as if he were talking about some incredible secret.

"Potter was riding the school's Comet—no, I heard Professor McGonagall gave him a Nimbus 2000."

"It's already outrageous enough that a first-grader can compete."

Zacharys Smith said sourly,

"And he's riding the latest model broom..."

Xavier's gaze swept across the Great Hall and landed on the Gryffindor table.

Harry Potter was sitting with Ron Weasley, and the two of them were laughing loudly, talking about something.

Hermione sat a little further away, engrossed in her book, occasionally glancing up at Harry and Ron before quickly looking down again.

Distance can create beauty, but it can also lead to misunderstandings.

Xavier remembered that Hermione cried on Halloween because Ron told her in Charms class that "nobody likes her."

Eleven-year-olds have emotions that come and go quickly. But in the blink of an eye, they stumble upon a monster.

Fate's coincidences are sometimes just so illogical.

-

On Halloween afternoon, Xavier stayed at the library until closing time.

Mrs. Pince was as fierce as ever, but she had become slightly gentler with him—after all, he was one of the few students who would put his books back in their place and not leave bread crumbs on them.

He borrowed a book called "An Introduction to Advanced Spell Theory" and planned to read it in the common room that evening.

He found the book outside the restricted area. Although it wasn't as dangerous as the books in the restricted area, its content was beyond the comprehension of most first-year students.

As for the restricted book section—Xavier felt he couldn't control it yet and thought it best to plan for the long term.

When I left the library, it was already completely dark.

Pumpkin lanterns floated in the corridor, their orange light casting swaying shadows on the stone walls.

A faint commotion could be heard coming from the auditorium in the distance—the Halloween dinner had begun.

Xavier quickened his pace.

His plans for tonight were simple: have a good meal, go back to the common room to read, and then go to bed early.

As for the trolls—knowing this might be a performance...

He will keep an eye out, but he won't actively seek out trouble.

He is Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor.

-

The banquet hall was decorated in an exceptionally lavish manner.

Thousands of bats flew around near the ceiling, and a giant jack-o'-lantern floated above four long tables, emitting a warm orange glow.

There's even a skeleton band—not real skeletons, of course, but magically created—that plays eerie music, but the atmosphere is surprisingly cheerful.

Xavier ate his fill.

Baked pumpkin pie, syrup pie, roasted potatoes, honey ham, butterbeer... The atmosphere at the Hufflepuff table was the most lively, because their Dean, Professor Sprout, personally brought out pumpkin soup made from the giant pumpkin he grew himself.

"Eat up, kids!" Professor Sprout grinned like a sunflower. "Halloween is all about having fun!"

Xavier had another bowl of pumpkin soup and thought it tasted quite good.

Just then, the auditorium doors were suddenly pushed open.

Professor Quirrell stumbled in, his purple headscarf askew, his face deathly pale, his eyes bulging as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.

Everyone fell silent.

"The troll—in the underground classroom—I thought you knew—"

Professor Quirrell's voice trembled so much he could barely utter a complete sentence, then his eyes rolled back and he fell straight to the floor.

The auditorium erupted in chaos.

Dumbledore stood up, wand pressed against his throat. "Speak loudly!"

The sound clearly drowned out all the noise.

"Quiet! Prefects, immediately lead your students back to the common room. Professors, follow me to the basement."

Xavier stood up and followed the Hufflepuff students toward the door.

He glanced back—Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not at the Gryffindor long table.

He showed no sign of anything amiss, simply following the flow of people out of the auditorium and walking down the corridor toward the Hufflepuff common room.

The crowd moved slowly down the corridor; the younger students were somewhat frightened, while the older students were discussing it amongst themselves.

"How did a troll get into the castle?"

"I heard Professor Quirrell let it in—no, he's the one who discovered it—"

"No, it must be someone's prank, right?"

Xavier walked in the middle of the group, not quite understanding.

Why didn't Harry and the others seek the professor's help?

Or perhaps they haven't truly realized how vulnerable three first-year students are in the face of a giant monster?

Even if they only notify one professor, such as Professor McGonagall, they can find Hermione faster and safer and bring her back.

Gryffindor's courage lies in their willingness to stand up even when they know danger is unavoidable—just like when Harry and his friends faced Voldemort later.

-

Xavier took a deep breath and pulled himself out of his thoughts.

He wasn't their guardian, just their classmate. He wasn't even in the same college as them.

Besides, there are professors there...aren't there?

Besides—he glanced around at the crowded Hufflepuff students, with Prefect Gabriel counting heads ahead to make sure no one had fallen behind—if he suddenly ran away, the prefect would be the first to notice. Then he'd have to explain why he'd strayed from the group.

"Stay close," Gabriel's voice came from ahead. "We're almost at the common room. As long as everyone stays in the common room, we'll be safe."

-

Xavier would follow the flow of people toward the low-ceilinged corridor leading to the Hufflepuff common room.

The torchlight illuminated the wooden barrel on the wall, and Gabriel stepped forward and gently tapped the special barrel lid with his wand in the rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff".

The lid popped open, revealing the passage behind it.

The students filed in and entered the round, warm underground space filled with the scent of earth and wood.

The fire in the fireplace was blazing, and the brass ornaments gleamed warmly in the firelight. The plush sofas and armchairs looked especially inviting—particularly to the group of first-year students who had just been told there were trolls in the castle.

Xavier would find an armchair in a corner, sit down, place the borrowed "Introduction to Advanced Spellcasting Theory" on his lap, open it to read, and wait for time to pass.

-

But the reality is that Xavier's legs simply won't allow him to walk.

What if?

Xavier glanced ahead for a moment, then turned and left.

He wasn't going to find the troll; he was going to find the professor who had just left.

Within Hogwarts, where teleportation is not an option, the professors cannot go very far.