Chapter 262: A Midnight Meeting with Luna
By the time Dylan returned to the common room, Harry and Ron still weren't back. He went into the dorm and found Neville there.
"Good evening, Dylan," Neville greeted him.
Dylan nodded in reply. Neville was a studious kid who always finished his homework after classes, unlike Harry and Ron, who put everything off until the last minute. Ron had a few lame excuses for his procrastination, like how he had to stay in "solidarity" with his best mate, Harry, and couldn't possibly do his own homework while Harry was struggling.
Neville, who had nothing else to do, looked at Dylan and was surprised by his troubled expression. "Dylan, what's wrong? You look like you're in a hurry. Did something happen?"
"Hmm? No." Dylan shook his head. "I've just hit a bit of a wall with my research, and I've got a slight headache."
Neville didn't pry. He just nodded. "I don't understand your research anyway. But you're already so amazing, Dylan. Don't be discouraged just because you hit a snag. You can always think things through and observe the small details. You might get some new inspiration—that's what Professor Sprout taught me."
"If you ever get stuck, you can also go to the professors. I'm sure they'd be happy to help you, even Professor Snape." Neville's voice was sincere; he was genuinely concerned about Dylan.
Dylan nodded gently. "Thank you for the advice. It seems you've learned a lot from Professor Sprout."
Neville scratched his head shyly. "Not really. I'm not good at anything else besides Herbology. Professor Sprout is willing to teach me everything she knows, so I should try my best to learn more so I don't disappoint her."
Dylan nodded in approval. "That's a great attitude. Keep it up, and I'm sure you'll become a famous Herbology professor in the wizarding world." It wasn't the first time Dylan had told him this. Although Neville was still a bit embarrassed, he felt a surge of confidence. Since starting at Hogwarts, he was slowly finding his path. With the encouragement of his friends and the guidance of his professors, he truly felt that he had changed and was a completely different person from when he first came to school.
"Your Divination skills have been proven by the Divination professor herself, so I'll take your word for it." Neville smiled sheepishly. "I'll work even harder from now on! I hope I can be someone who doesn't disappoint the professors or you in ten years!"
Dylan smiled and shrugged. "You only need to be someone who doesn't disappoint yourself. No one lives for other people, remember that."
With that, Dylan went to his desk, pulled out a Ravenclaw artifact book, and began to read it carefully. Neville paused, mulling over Dylan's words. He didn't disturb Dylan but sat at his own desk, found a Herbology book, and started reviewing.
Time passed in silence. It was getting late. The sky outside the window had completely darkened. That's when Harry and Ron finally returned to the dorm.
Creak!
The door was pushed open, and a cool breeze carrying a bit of a chill from outside slipped in. It wasn't too cold, just a little nippy. Ron and Harry stumbled in one after the other, looking like they had been chewing on Dementors for three days straight. The hems of their robes were damp with dew.
Ron immediately threw his heavy backpack onto his bed.
Thud.
The bag missed the bed and landed on the floor. Ron couldn't be bothered to pick it up and just collapsed onto his bed, limbs spread out like a boneless shrimp. He turned his head and saw Dylan and even Neville still reading. He mumbled a tired complaint. "Merlin's beard, it's this late, and you guys are still reading instead of sleeping?"
"This essay Snape gave us is gonna kill me." He spoke weakly. "I feel sick just looking at a book."
Dylan turned and looked at the exhausted Ron. "Didn't I leave some notes for Harry? You guys could've just copied some of it."
Harry wasn't doing much better. He took off his fogged-up glasses and wiped them with his sleeve. "I added a few sentences to what you wrote for me and finished the essay quickly, but Ron couldn't even get the main body of his done. The notes were too brief. Even if he copied all of them, it wouldn't have been a full essay."
Dylan just shrugged. He couldn't be blamed for that. Ron had no idea how to structure the essay, and even if he had a few amazing points, they wouldn't matter if the main framework was a mess.
Harry sat on his bed. "The library lights were about to turn off when we left. At least I finally got all the assignments done." His voice was full of fatigue, and his normally vibrant green eyes were clouded with weariness. It seemed that juggling classes, Quidditch practice, assignments, and learning the Patronus Charm would wear anyone out, no matter how energetic they were.
Dylan raised his wand but, after thinking about it, put it back down. "Since you're tired, you should rest. You'll probably fall asleep as soon as you lie down." Dylan said. "I'll cast a spell to get rid of your exhaustion in the morning, and you'll be as good as new for practice with Wood."
Harry managed a faint smile. "Thanks, Dylan. It's a good thing I have you. Otherwise, I might have actually died from exhaustion."
Dylan waved his hand. "You probably won't die, but it's entirely possible that you might pass out and fall off your broom in the middle of a game."
Ron, meanwhile, was already lying on his bed, his eyelids drooping. But he still managed to mumble, "It's one thing for us procrastinators to come back this late, but even Hermione, who writes every day, was still with us until now. How much stuff does she have to study?"
"No matter how much she studies, she'll never be better than Dylan. I don't know why she's so competitive."
Neville turned his head, looking at Ron with disapproval. "Studying isn't about being competitive! Dylan said we study for ourselves. When we learn something, we can use it later."
Ron pursed his lips and made a sputtering sound. "Alright, alright, you're right. It's always good to learn more." He turned over and was already asleep, without even taking off his clothes. A light snore escaped him.
Neville blinked, then turned back, not wanting to read anymore. He put his bookmark in the book and closed it. He was tired, too, after reading for over an hour. It was almost curfew, and it was time to go to bed.
When he sat back on his bed, Seamus winked at him. "Now you're able to read late like Dylan."
Neville rubbed his head and pulled back his blanket. "You know what they say: 'proximity to ink makes one dark.'"
Harry listened to them talking. After casting a simple spell on himself and then on Ron, he finally lay down on his bed. Neville was right. Maybe it was a case of "proximity to ink makes one dark." After being roommates with Dylan for so long, Harry realized he was much more diligent than when he first arrived at school. His thirst for magic and knowledge was much stronger.
In class, he would never zone out. Instead, he would listen carefully and intently to everything the professors said. He might still have trouble understanding some things, but that was normal. With his hard work, even Professor Snape was deducting points from him less often in Potions.
However, Snape's ability to find fault was top-notch. Even if Harry did something perfectly, the professor could always find something wrong.
Dylan closed his book, flipped his hand, and put it away into his system space. He never just left his things lying around; he put them all in his system's storage. It was a massive, maybe even limitless, space, so it would be a complete waste not to use it.
After cleaning himself with a spell, Dylan lay down in bed. He closed his eyes and took a short nap. When midnight arrived and the castle was quiet, he slowly opened his eyes. His body turned into a black shadow and then disappeared completely.
At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the shadows under the trees were as dark as ink. Only a few sparse rays of moonlight managed to pierce through.
Dylan quietly appeared in the woods behind Hagrid's hut. He looked around but didn't see Luna. Instead, he saw a pair of cold eyes staring at him from a patch of grass. Dylan raised an eyebrow, focusing his gaze. A large head emerged from the grass.
"Thestral?"
The eyes belonged to a Hippogriff. It was Buckbeak, an old acquaintance of Dylan's. Buckbeak was lying on the ground, his front paws tucked under his chest, his head held high. He stared intently at Dylan, the fuzz on his ears straight with alertness. He was clearly wary of someone approaching.
But when he saw it was Dylan, he paused. His tense neck gradually relaxed, and his high head lowered slightly.
Dylan didn't see Luna, but he wasn't worried about her getting caught by Filch. He walked straight up to Buckbeak.
"What are you doing here by yourself?" Dylan smiled and stroked his large head.
Rumble.
A low rumble came from Buckbeak's throat. He pushed off the ground with his hind legs and stood up. He mostly folded his wings, revealing his horse-like body covered in scales. His wary posture was gone. He looked at Dylan out of the corner of his eye, as if asking why he was here, and also as if to scold him for not having visited in so long.
Just by looking at his resentful expression, Dylan knew exactly what the Hippogriff was thinking. He pulled out a piece of delicious roasted meat. It was leftover from feeding Norberta. For some reason, Norberta had been a bit picky lately. She wouldn't eat some of her food and couldn't even finish her favorite roasted meat. It was perfect for feeding Buckbeak.
The roasted meat was a little cold, but it still smelled good. Dylan heated it with a spell, and the aroma became even more potent. With a wave of his hand, he cast a spell to contain the scent. After all, Hagrid's hut was right there.
If Fang smelled the meat, he would wake up, start barking, and wake Hagrid up, too. It wasn't that Dylan was afraid of Hagrid finding him; it's just that he hadn't planned on meeting with him in the woods tonight. He especially didn't want to let Norberta out for Hagrid to see, and Norberta was already asleep.
Lately, Norberta had not only been a picky eater but also a bit sleepy. Ravenclaw speculated that it was because the dragon was growing. Dylan didn't want to wake Norberta up from her deep sleep.
Rustle.
Buckbeak's ears twitched. His eyes locked onto the roasted meat in Dylan's hand. He took two steps forward, his massive body creating a gust of wind. He lowered his head and sniffed the meat with his beak. The next moment, a distinct, joyful hum came from his throat. The delicious smell had him hooked.
And why not? The roasted meat Dylan prepared for Norberta was made with his own secret recipe and sauces. It would be a crime if it didn't taste good.
Dylan lifted his hand, holding the meat closer. Buckbeak gently opened his beak. The sharp edge of his beak grazed Dylan's fingers but was so gentle it didn't even poke his skin. He took a corner of the meat. As soon as he had the meat, he swallowed it whole.
"Here, I've got more."
Dylan waved his right hand. Six or seven more pieces of roasted meat appeared on the ground. They weren't very big, some of them were leftover scraps from Norberta. Dylan hadn't wanted to throw them away and planned to feed them to the Basilisk. But since he ran into Buckbeak, he might as well give them to him.
Buckbeak didn't notice anything unusual. He just started gobbling up the pieces, one after the other.
At the same time, Dylan suddenly felt a strange feeling. He turned and looked toward the castle. He saw Luna walking down the small path toward the Forbidden Forest. She was walking brazenly, holding a wicker basket. Dylan couldn't see what was inside, but he could clearly see Luna's confident stride.
(End of Chapter)
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