Time slipped by unnoticed.
The library grew gradually busier, but no one made a sound. Under Madam Pince's hawk-like glare, every student sat properly, reading in total silence.
Ark slowly pulled himself out of his deep focus. It was part of his self-set mental discipline—a signal to disengage once a certain amount of time had passed, so he wouldn't lose track of the hour and miss his afternoon A History of Magic class.
He exhaled softly and closed the book in his hands, deciding he'd borrow it later.
"You finished reading?"
A familiar girl's voice spoke beside him. Startled, Ark finally realized there was someone sitting next to him.
"Hermione?" He blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
It was indeed Hermione Granger, holding a copy of Evaluations of Magical Education in Europe. She tilted her head toward him, eyes full of amusement.
"I've been here for a while. You didn't even notice?" she whispered, ducking slightly behind her book after a wary glance toward Madam Pince. "You're amazing, you know. I've never seen anyone so absorbed in a book."
"Sorry," Ark said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "That's a bad habit of mine. Whenever I'm studying Magic or reading about it, I get completely lost in it. I don't notice anything around me."
He obviously couldn't mention his special ability—Mind Guidance—so that was the best excuse he could come up with.
"There's no need to apologize. I understand," Hermione said earnestly, nodding in agreement. "Sometimes the things you read are just that fascinating, aren't they?"
"Exactly." Ark smiled, then added, "Next time, you can just nudge me. That'll pull me back to reality, no matter how focused I am."
After all, he wasn't nearly advanced enough in Mind Guidance to remain oblivious to physical contact. Maybe one day, when his control improved, he could reach that terrifying level of concentration—utterly detached from pain or distraction.
Like the old tale of the general who played chess calmly while having poison scraped from his bone.
Ark chuckled inwardly. When he reached that level, maybe he'd be strong enough to blow Lord Voldemort into ashes with a single spell.
"I'd never interrupt you," Hermione said quickly. "I don't like being interrupted when I'm reading either—it really irritates me."
"Is that so?" Ark smiled again, then smoothly changed the subject. "What class do you have this afternoon?"
"Herbology. We've got it with Hufflepuff." The all-knowing Miss Granger seemed gentler and more reserved around Ark—none of the pride or bossiness she sometimes showed to others. "I've never taken a class about magical plants before. Honestly, I'm kind of excited."
"Herbology's worth paying attention to," Ark replied, lowering his voice as he noticed Madam Pince watching them. "I checked the schedule—Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have Charms and Transfiguration class together tomorrow. We can sit together then."
"Really?" Hermione's eyes lit up, just like the last time Ark had invited her to work together. "Are you sure I won't bother you or your friends?"
"You won't." Ark grinned. "Right now, I'd say you're my best friend at Hogwarts."
After all, she'd been the first person to really talk to him since school started.
Sure, a few Ravenclaw girls had tried to chat him up—mostly the ones who cared more about looks than books—but he hadn't gotten close to any of them.
Hermione, though, had talked to him for hours on the train and spent half the day interacting with him since. That alone set her apart.
And Ark knew she was struggling in Gryffindor, already starting to feel isolated. For both practical and personal reasons, he couldn't just leave her to fend for herself.
"Thank you, Ark."
Hermione's eyes shimmered faintly with moisture.
The little witch might not have the most pleasant personality yet, but she was sharp—she could tell he was being kind on purpose.
Even though they'd only been at school a short while, she was already feeling insecure about being Muggle-born.
Her classmates weren't necessarily smarter than her—in fact, most weren't—but because they came from wizarding families, they looked down on her, their scorn thinly veiled.
So she overcompensated. She showed off what she knew, tried to prove herself through knowledge. But that only made people impatient with her, widening the distance between her and the others.
That was why she avoided spending time with her roommates or fellow Gryffindors, why she came off as proud—it was a mask to hide the sting of being an outsider.
To a girl like that, Ark's warmth and gentle tone weren't just comforting; they were deeply moving.
She was still only eleven, after all—bright but fragile, a child who just needed someone to stand beside her.
"When class is over, let's read together again," Ark said softly. Something paternal stirred in him—a calm protectiveness he didn't often feel. "But for now, we should go. We'll be late."
Besides, Madam Pince had been glaring daggers at them for nearly five minutes. If they stayed any longer, she might actually pounce.
"All right."
Hermione nodded obediently, looking far more at ease than before.
The two packed up their things, returned their chairs neatly, and went to the front desk to check out their books.
Ark borrowed Ancient and Forgotten Magic and Spells, the one he hadn't finished reading, while Hermione checked out Life and Social Customs of British Muggle Families.
The A History of Magic classroom was located on the second floor of the castle.
Unlike the Potions dungeon, it wasn't cold and damp—but with a ghost for a teacher, the atmosphere still had a definite chill.
Ark stared at the translucent figure floating near the lectern, his expression somewhere between amazement and disbelief.
Professor Cuthbert Binns, the Hogwarts History of Magic teacher, was a real, bona fide ghost.
He'd been teaching at Hogwarts longer than anyone else—some said since the Founders' era. One day, after dying in his sleep in the staff room, he'd simply gotten up, left his body behind, and returned to class as if nothing had happened. That had been centuries ago.
A ghost teaching in a school—if this were the Muggle world, the place would've been branded a haunted house by morning.
But at Hogwarts, ghosts were nothing unusual. Each House even had its own resident ghost. Ravenclaw's was said to be a lady named Grey, who often drifted through the common room—though Ark hadn't met her yet.
"Good thing this class isn't held at night," Ark muttered under his breath as he opened his borrowed book.
It wasn't that he didn't care about the lesson. It was just… well, A History of Magic was universally known as the most boring subject at Hogwarts.
Professor Binns's teaching style was unbelievably dull. He droned on endlessly, reciting dates, names, and events from wizarding history with all the enthusiasm of a tombstone. Most students relied on copied notes before exams to scrape by.
And since everything he said was word-for-word identical to what was printed in the A History of Magic textbook, Ark saw no point in wasting time.
He'd already memorized most of it anyway.
"Patronus Charm…"
His gaze landed on the page he'd marked earlier, the same spell that had caught his attention in the library.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"This spell," he murmured, "might just be the key."