"What's wrong, Marcel?"
As the boy was staring at the black-covered diary in Ginny's cauldron, the girl beside him tugged on his hand and asked without any hesitation.
"It's nothing," Marcel said, shaking his head slightly. His tone seemed as gentle and peaceful as ever, but his eyes were exceptionally cold.
"This trip out has changed you a lot."
"Has it, Luna?" Marcel turned his head and showed a slight smile. "Perhaps. But I think this is good too."
Luna tilted her head and looked at him, her gaze slightly dazed. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.
After a good while, she finally said, "Yes, it's good too..."
It was clear that Marcel had made it back in time for the start of the term. Although no one knew where Rowena had taken him or what he had done, at least he had returned safely.
It was just that some inexplicable change seemed to have occurred in him.
"Let's go. Home first," Marcel said.
…
On the first day of school, Marcel stayed by Luna's side the entire time, barely leaving her even once. Even at the welcome feast, Marcel sat directly at the Ravenclaw table.
What was surprising was that almost none of the Ravenclaw students objected. This was a rare sight among the little eagles, who held "wisdom and learning" to an extremely high standard.
This was perhaps because many students had already seen the notice posted on the Hogwarts notice board.
The content of the notice was simple. It just conveyed a piece of good news to all the teachers and students at the school—the "Fae-Fade Potion" invented by Marcel had passed the inspection and evaluation of the International Confederation of Wizards. While Marcel received the official certification for the potion, it also indirectly recognized his status as a "Potioneer."
Just as Snape had said in class, Potions could indeed "bottle fame, brew glory." This point was most significantly proven by Marcel, who had only just started his second year.
During the Sorting Ceremony, Luna was naturally sorted into Ravenclaw. Marcel smiled and offered her his congratulations, repeatedly reminding her of what to pay attention to in her future studies and life.
The feast was lively and, as always, warm, bringing warmth to the little wizards like a big family.
From the center of the head table, Dumbledore seemed to cast an inadvertent glance at Marcel, but he quickly turned to laugh with Professor Flitwick.
A moment later, Professor McGonagall came in from a side door. She walked over to Dumbledore and said a few words softly.
Marcel glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron were indeed not there. The other little lions were whispering to each other, their heads together in discussion.
Among them, Hermione clearly looked restless. When Marcel looked over, she happened to turn her head and was also looking in his direction.
"He... what's wrong with him?" Hermione stared blankly at Marcel, who had already shifted his gaze elsewhere, her heart filled with doubt.
Hermione's heart had always been very sensitive. She would always notice details that others would not. For example, Marcel at this moment didn't seem to have undergone a huge change, but his cold gaze made Hermione feel very uncomfortable.
"Could it be that the matter with Voldemort had such a big impact on him? Or could it be that Marcel was actually injured when he saved me?"
Thinking back to the events at the end of last term and Marcel's expression at the time, Hermione's guess naturally went astray.
"...And who is that girl?"
She looked at Luna, who was being carefully looked after by Marcel, and for some reason, she felt a little unhappy.
The next morning, Marcel, who was eating breakfast, was disturbed by a Howler from the Gryffindor side. It was from Mrs. Weasley to Ron.
"...STEALING THE CAR! I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU. YOU WAIT TILL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU! I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE..."
A huge roar erupted from the red Howler, filling the entire hall, a hundred times louder than usual.
The sound made the plates and spoons on the table rattle, and the echoes from the four stone walls were deafening. Everyone in the Great Hall turned to see who had received the Howler. Ron shrank down in his chair, so that only the top of his scarlet forehead was visible.
Marcel frowned but made no move.
In the past, he might have walked over and helped Ron get rid of the Howler—it wouldn't have been difficult for him.
But now, he sat at the dining table, motionless.
The first class was Herbology. Hufflepuff still had this class with Gryffindor. As Marcel walked towards the greenhouse, he saw the Whomping Willow from a distance. It was currently wrapped in bandages to prevent some of its branches from breaking off completely.
This was Harry and Ron's masterpiece. They had crashed the enchanted flying car into it when they arrived for the start of the term.
Although they had only done it because they couldn't get onto the Hogwarts Express platform—the entrance on the wall seemed to have been sealed by someone—it still couldn't hide their recklessness.
At the very least, Professor Sprout had spent a whole morning treating the poor Whomping Willow, and had only managed to hastily stuff down some bread for breakfast.
When Marcel arrived near the greenhouse, he saw that the other students were all standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout.
Before long, Harry, Ron, and Hermione also arrived. As soon as they got there, they saw Professor Sprout striding across the lawn.
She had many bandages over her arms and didn't look too well. And, although she was usually kind and amiable, there was a clear hint of anger on her face today.
And next to Professor Sprout was Gilderoy Lockhart.
The two were a stark contrast: Professor Sprout had a short, stout figure, with a patched hat perched on her flyaway hair, and her clothes were always stained with dirt. But Gilderoy Lockhart was spotless from head to toe, in flowing turquoise robes, with a matching turquoise, gold-trimmed hat sitting squarely on his shining, golden hair.
"Oh, hello there!" Lockhart called out to the students cheerfully. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the proper way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I've just seen a few more of the world's exotic flora in my travels..."
"Greenhouse Three today," said Professor Sprout crisply, cutting him off.
Marcel was already a regular in Greenhouse Three. He had been here many times and even had his own small area inside.
Here, the smell of damp earth and fertilizer was familiar, mixed with the rich fragrance of flowers. The flowers were as large as umbrellas, hanging down from the ceiling, and looked to be growing well.
Marcel was about to go in when he was stopped by Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Oh! Marcel, you're Marcel—" Lockhart grabbed his shoulder and said loudly. "Professor Sprout, and this is Marcel! Marcel Maclean! I'd like to have a word with him too. I'm sure you won't mind, just two minutes..."
Marcel looked at Harry, who was also being held by Lockhart on the other side. Harry gave him an embarrassed smile.
Lockhart didn't seem to really expect Professor Sprout's permission. He just said "Excellent!" and closed the greenhouse door on her.
"Oh! The youngest Potioneer! I heard you were still a first-year when you invented the 'Fae-Fade Potion'! Is that true? That's simply amazing..." Lockhart said happily, one hand on Marcel's shoulder, the other waving up and down as he spoke, looking quite excited.
"...I also heard that you were very low-key when you first started school, very low-key! Just like me when I was young—but gold will always shine, just like me. Although you're not as glorious as my five-time win of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, you'll reach my level one day—"
"Excuse me, Professor Lockhart," Marcel interrupted him calmly. "If there's nothing else, I think I should get back to class."
With that, he pushed open the door and walked into the greenhouse, closing it behind him, leaving Lockhart standing there, blinking awkwardly.
"...Alright, I suppose," he said, turning his head. The stiffness on his face quickly vanished, as if he hadn't cared at all. He turned his gaze to Harry. "Harry, I can understand..."
In Greenhouse Three, Professor Sprout stood behind a bench in the middle of the greenhouse. On the bench were about twenty pairs of earmuffs of different colors.
In front of everyone were large ceramic pots, in which a plant was growing. The leaves were green and looked very healthy.
While the students were whispering to each other, Harry also returned. He walked to the center of the greenhouse with a puzzled look on his face and sat down next to Ron and Hermione.
Just then, Professor Sprout tapped a pot with her wand and said loudly, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"
Hermione subconsciously raised her hand—she had always done this. But this time, after raising her hand, she glanced over at Marcel.
Marcel was just staring at the Mandrake in front of him, not looking up at all.
"Miss Granger," Professor Sprout said, also glancing at Marcel before speaking.
"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," Hermione recited the knowledge she had memorized from her preview, almost word for word. "It is used to return people who have been Transfigured or cursed to their original state."
"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. But it is also dangerous. Who can tell me why?"
Hermione glanced at Marcel again.
In last term's Herbology class, Marcel would always raise his hand to answer questions with her. To be honest, Hermione had always been very happy about this. She believed that Marcel was the one friend in this school who understood her best... But at this moment, he still showed no reaction, which couldn't help but make her feel very disappointed.
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