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Chapter 20: Riddles and Rumors
Chapter 20: Riddles and Rumors
Michael heaved a sigh of relief. "It's a good thing Peeves didn't bother us. It would have been terrible if he had actually called Filch."
"Peeves wouldn't bother going to Filch," said Ved, pulling him up from the ground. "Did you forget? They loathe each other. Peeves wouldn't do anything to please Filch."
"That's true," Michael nodded.
Peeves, the poltergeist, was often a source of mischief, whether it was toppling statues or spilling ink everywhere, inadvertently adding to the workload of Filch, the castle's caretaker, and driving him mad.
The two climbed the spiral staircase of the Ravenclaw tower, winding their way up, their heads spinning. They had to stop frequently to rest, their thighs burning as if they didn't belong to their own bodies.
Usually, at this point, Michael would be complaining incessantly—unless there was a pretty girl around, in which case he would pretend to be unaffected and stop to rest under the pretext of taking care of her.
But today, Michael was unusually silent. It wasn't until they were almost back to the common room that he spoke up. "We have Flying class tomorrow as well."
"Mhm," Ved acknowledged.
"Forget what I said before!" Michael grumbled. "Let's take it slow, as Professor Hooch advised."
Ved couldn't help but say, "What happened to Neville was just an accident. Not everyone is as unlucky as he is."
Michael might have known this in his heart, but for the time being, he couldn't shake off his worries.
Finally, they made their way back to the tower, well past curfew. However, there were still a few students gathered in the corridor—not every Ravenclaw was adept at solving riddles, and when it came to knowledge blind spots, even the brightest minds could be stumped. Hence, it wasn't unusual to see over twenty students standing outside the common room, discussing the day's riddle.
Ved walked over and knocked on the bronze door knocker. The eagle-shaped knocker suddenly opened its beak and asked in a melodic voice that resembled a chant, "Above and below, hands I have, now and then I walk and run. I walk like man, I run on all fours."
One had to answer the riddle posed by the eagle-shaped knocker correctly to gain entry into the common room.
Michael imagined some sort of creature covered in hands, crawling in the shadows, and exclaimed in terror, "What kind of monster is this? Is it some kind of demon from mythology?"
He frantically rummaged through his bag and pulled out his textbook, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, flipping to the back without hesitation.
"Don't bother looking, it's not in there," said a tired Ravenclaw student. "I've already searched the entire book."
The others nodded silently.
Ved stood there, deep in thought.
The bronze knocker was akin to the legendary Sphinx, and its riddles weren't necessarily difficult, but sometimes they could be a bit tricky—because the knocker only asked questions and never specified if it was a brainteaser or a riddle, nor did it provide any hints as to whether the answer was a plant, animal, object, word, or an abstract concept like time or death.
This riddle, while evoking a Cthulhu-esque style at first listen, also seemed somewhat familiar.
"...A monkey?"
After a moment, Ved asked, unsure of his answer.
"Correct," replied the eagle-shaped knocker, opening the wooden door.
...
After the incident during Flying class, the breakfast table the next day was much quieter. The students no longer bragged incessantly about their adventures of soaring over mountains and seas on broomsticks, but instead, another piece of news spread among the first-year students.
"Didn't Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from Slytherin almost get into a fight during yesterday's Flying class? Well, you'll never guess what happened next." Padma Patil, with an air of mystery, shared with those around her at the long table. "Word has it that because Harry Potter displayed an extraordinary talent for flying, not only did he avoid punishment, but Professor McGonagall exceptionally recommended him to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team!"
Having a twin sister in Gryffindor, she was always well-informed about such matters.
"Really? Professor McGonagall?" The surrounding students were astonished. Who didn't know that Professor McGonagall was the fairest and strictest professor at Hogwarts? She treated all four houses equally and was never partial. For her to make an exception for Harry Potter was shocking, so much so that it momentarily overshadowed the previous news.
But someone eventually remembered.
"Impossible," Terry stated emphatically. "No first-year student has joined a Quidditch team in a century! This has to be a rumor!"
"Maybe he's a reserve player or something," Anthony speculated. "After all, we all saw that Potter can fly pretty well. He's fast and agile. It would be unbelievable if the Gryffindor team turned him away. But he is only a first-year student, and he hasn't ridden a broom before or even knows the rules of Quidditch. It's absurd for him to join the team directly—he's probably just a reserve."
Another student, Kevin, added, "Think about it. If Potter really joined the team exceptionally, the Weasley brothers would have been shouting about it. But have you heard anything from them?"
The analysis was logical and reasonable, and everyone nodded in agreement.
Padma scoffed and whispered to Michael, "Actually, it's the Gryffindor captain, Wood, who wants to keep Harry Potter as a secret weapon, so they're not publicizing it. Those stupid boys are just jealous and don't want to admit it."
Michael didn't remind her that he was also a boy; instead, he smiled and said, "Maybe they just don't want to admit that they're not as good as another boy in front of pretty girls."
Padma's face turned slightly red.
Ved turned to see Michael raise one eyebrow, his youthful face exuding a carefree and charming air, as if he had already moved on from his previous troubles. Ved breathed a sigh of relief.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the Great Hall—six long-eared owls carrying a slender package flew in laboriously, capturing everyone's attention. The owls circled downward, dropping the package in front of Harry Potter before flying off, leaving only a few feathers behind.
Michael gasped, clutching Ved's wrist and whispering excitedly, "A broom! I bet that's definitely a flying broom!"
His eyes gleamed with envy, and he added in a hoarse voice, "And it's a Nimbus series—I recognize the packaging!"
"Yeah." Ved pried his fingers off the table indifferently. "If you perform well in this afternoon's Flying class, you might also get a chance to join the team and get a new broom!"
He was just making a casual remark, but Michael seemed to take it to heart. His expression turned serious, and he bit into his lamb chop with renewed vigor.
Soon, it was time for their Flying class.
(End of Chapter)
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