Chapter 20: Riddle, Rumors

Michael let out a relieved breath. “Thank goodness Peeves didn’t catch us. If he’d actually called Filch over, that would’ve been a disaster.”

“Peeves wouldn’t do that,” Wade said, pulling him to his feet. “Didn’t you forget? They absolutely hate each other. Peeves would never do anything that’d make Filch happy.”

“True,” Michael nodded.

Peeves was notorious for causing chaos—toppling statues, splattering ink across corridors, and generally piling up work for the castle’s caretaker, Filch, who was driven nearly mad by it.

The two climbed the spiraling staircase of the Ravenclaw Tower, circling upward in dizzying loops. After a few minutes, they had to stop to catch their breath—thighs aching as if they no longer belonged to them.

Normally, Michael would’ve been whining nonstop. Unless a pretty girl was around, in which case he’d pretend to be perfectly fine, claiming he was just “being considerate” and “taking care of the ladies.”

But today, Michael was silent. Not until they were nearly back to the Common Room did he mutter, “Tomorrow we’ve got Flying Lesson.”

Wade grunted. “Mm.”

“Forget what I said earlier,” Michael mumbled, voice tight. “Just follow Madam Hooch’s instructions, slowly and carefully.”

Wade sighed. “Neville’s accident was just a fluke. Not everyone’s that unlucky.”

Michael likely knew that, deep down—but the weight of it still clung to him.

Finally, they made it back to the tower. It was past curfew, yet the corridor was still packed with students. Not every Ravenclaw was skilled at solving riddles, and when the questions touched on knowledge gaps, even the brightest minds could be stumped. Sometimes, there were over twenty students standing outside the Common Room, huddled together, debating the day’s puzzle.

Wade walked up and tapped the bronze door knocker on the wooden panel. The eagle-shaped knocker suddenly opened its beak, and a soft, melodic voice echoed through the hall:

“Hands above and below, sometimes crawling, sometimes walking. When it walks, it’s like a man. When it crawls, it’s like a dog.”

To gain entry, they had to answer the riddle correctly.

Michael pictured some grotesque creature—limbs sprouting all over its body, slithering through shadows. His face twisted in panic. “What kind of monster is this? Some mythological demon?”

Fumbling in his bag, he pulled out his textbook, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and flipped through the pages without hesitation.

“Don’t bother,” a Ravenclaw student said wearily. “I’ve already checked the whole book.”

The others nodded in silent agreement.

Wade stood still, thinking. The bronze knocker was like a modern-day Sphinx—its riddles weren’t always hard, but they often required a twist of imagination. It never revealed whether the riddle was a trick, a wordplay, or a metaphor. Nor did it hint at the answer’s category—be it animal, plant, object, word, or even abstract concepts like time or death.

At first glance, the riddle felt straight out of a Lovecraftian nightmare—but something about it rang familiar.

“—A monkey?” Wade asked, uncertain.

“Correct,” said the eagle knocker, and the door swung open.

…

After the mishap during the previous day’s Flying Lesson, breakfast that morning was unusually quiet. The usual boasts about riding broomsticks over mountains and oceans had vanished. Instead, a new rumor had spread like wildfire among the first-years.

At the long table, Padma Patil leaned in, her voice dripping with mystery. “So yesterday, Harry Potter nearly came to blows with Malfoy from Slytherin. But guess what happened?”

Her twin sister was in Gryffindor, so Padma always had the inside scoop.

“Really? McGonagall?” someone gasped.

Who didn’t know Professor McGonagall—the most fair and strict professor at Hogwarts? She treated all four houses equally and never played favorites. To think she’d make an exception for Harry Potter—this news shocked even more than the earlier incident.

But someone eventually remembered.

“That’s impossible,” Terry declared firmly. “No first-year has ever joined the Quidditch team in a century! This is just a rumor.”

“Maybe he’s a reserve player,” Anthony suggested. “We all saw how well Potter flew—fast, agile, incredible control. If Gryffindor turned him down, that would be ridiculous. But he’s still a first-year. No broom experience, no knowledge of Quidditch rules. Joining the team outright? Too absurd. He must just be on the reserve list.”

Another student, Kevin, added, “Think about it—if Potter really was added to the team, wouldn’t the Weasley Twins have screamed it from the rooftops? Did you hear anything from them?”

Logical, convincing. The others nodded in agreement.

Padma rolled her eyes. “It’s because Wood—the Gryffindor captain—wants to keep Potter as a secret weapon. That’s why they’re keeping it quiet. The boys are just jealous, so they refuse to admit it.”

Michael didn’t point out he was a boy too. Instead, he smiled sweetly. “Maybe they just don’t want to admit they’re not as good as another guy in front of a pretty girl.”

Padma’s cheeks flushed faintly.

Wade glanced sideways, watching Michael raise one eyebrow with a mischievous smirk. The boy seemed to have shaken off the shadow of yesterday’s trauma—already acting like his old, carefree self. Wade exhaled in relief.

Suddenly, the Great Hall erupted in chaos.

Six long-eared owls, struggling under the weight of a narrow package, wobbled through the air and landed precisely in front of Harry Potter. They dropped the package and flapped away, leaving behind a few stray feathers.

Michael sucked in a sharp breath. His hand shot out, gripping Wade’s wrist. “Broomstick!” he whispered urgently. “I bet that’s a Flying Broomstick!”

His eyes were red with envy. “And it’s a Nimbus Series—I recognize that packaging!”

“Yeah,” Wade said, gently prying Michael’s fingers loose and placing his hand back on the table. “If you behave well during today’s Flying Lesson, you might just earn a spot on the team… and maybe even a new broom.”

He said it casually, but Michael’s expression turned serious. His jaw clenched as he bit into his lamb chop, chewing with unusual force.

Soon, it was time for the Flying Lesson.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end