Chapter 31: Padma

“Honestly, when I first saw that giant, I thought we were dead for sure!” Padma clung tightly to Hermione’s arm, her voice trembling with genuine awe. “Hermione, you were so brave.”

Hermione blushed, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t have time to think—my mind was completely focused on the Hovering Charm. I mean… it was just luck. I’d only ever managed to float textbooks before!”

“Bro, that slippery surface spell was amazing!” Michael waved his wand excitedly. “Slippery Surface! You have to teach me that during our next Study Session!”

“Deal,” Wade said, turning to Harry. “Harry, don’t take Professor Snape’s comment too hard. Using a bucket was actually a smart move. Most spells hitting a giant are like a mosquito bite—barely noticeable.”

“That’s why Michael’s Petrificus Totalus didn’t work,” Harry mused. “You never actually attacked the giant directly with magic.”

“But I don’t remember seeing those two spells in Standard Book of Spells, Level One,” he added.

“Wade’s Charms class has already advanced to Level Three,” Michael said proudly. “And he spends every spare moment in the Library or the Study Room. He’s learned more spells than all of us combined—despite only being at school for two months.”

Harry felt a pang of guilt and insecurity. If Ron, Michael, or even Malfoy had mastered more spells than him, he could’ve told himself it was because they’d already studied magic at home. But Wade and Hermione hadn’t known a single spell before coming to Hogwarts—and yet, they were already the top students in their year.

He couldn’t help but wonder: Was he just being lazy?

Watching the group laugh and chat, Harry found himself drawn into the conversation naturally. Ron, left out, tried to say something but couldn’t get a word in, trailing behind awkwardly.

Soon, they reached a crossroads, and the group split up. Harry, Hermione, and Ron headed toward the Gryffindor Tower. Without Michael’s jokes and interruptions, the mood instantly grew stiff. None of them looked at each other, and they quickened their pace, rushing back to the Common Room.

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On the way back to Ravenclaw Tower, Padma casually glanced ahead, feigning nonchalance. “Wade… that Slippery Surface spell—can I learn it too? It looked so cool.”

“Of course,” Wade replied. “No classes tomorrow morning. I’ll teach you then.”

“Hmm… the Common Room might not be the best place,” Padma added quickly, glancing at Michael. “I heard… do you have a special place for practicing spells?”

She was only eleven, after all. Though she tried to hint delicately, her meaning was clear enough.

Wade understood. After a brief pause, he said, “I’ll need to check with the others, but I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Of course—welcome!” Michael grinned.

“Great!” Padma bounced slightly, then flushed, quickly smoothing her robes and composing herself. “I’d be honored.”

At the entrance to the Common Room, the eagle-shaped door knocker spoke:

“O, T, T, F, F, S, S, E, N. What’s the next letter?”

“Uh…” Michael, the least puzzle-savvy Ravenclaw, tapped his chin, pretending to think. After three seconds, he gave up. “What do you think, Wade?”

“T,” Padma said.

“Correct,” the knocker chimed in a melodic tone, and the door swung open.

“Why ‘T’?” Michael asked as they stepped inside. “Is it because of Troll? Did the door knocker know we just fought a giant?”

He exaggerated his expression, winking and grimacing. Padma giggled. “It’s the first letters of the numbers one through ten: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten.”

The Common Room was packed—every Ravenclaw seemed to be there. Long tables had been added by the fireplace, piled high with food and drinks. It was Halloween again, and this time, it felt even better than the feast in the Great Hall—no professor watching over them, no rules about what they could or couldn’t do.

Wade noticed a few normally reclusive students had also stayed behind, sitting quietly in the corners. The room had been transformed for the holiday: a massive skeleton figure wandered through the space, startling students with every creak; others wore skull masks that occasionally let out eerie, ghostly cries.

“Want a Bloody Lollipop?” Terry offered cheerfully to Lisha.

Wade weaved through the crowd and headed straight for the dormitory. The stench of the giant still lingered in his nose, and he had no appetite.

Padma watched him go, a hint of worry in her eyes. “Wade didn’t eat dinner, did he? Why didn’t he come to the feast?” She feared she’d been too forward, that her request had made him uncomfortable—so much so that he’d rather starve than spend time with them.

“Don’t worry, it’s not you,” Michael said casually, piling food onto his plate. “Wade just hates crowded places.”

Padma exhaled in relief. Then she realized she was hungry too. After filling her stomach to about three-quarters, she finally had room to talk again.

“Oh, by the way—when Wade asks everyone tomorrow, please make sure you say nice things about me!” she reminded him, her voice earnest. “I really want to join!”

“OK, OK, I promise!” Michael grinned, raising his hand like a pledge.

—Asking for permission?

Michael knew better than anyone. If Wade said yes, no one else would say no. Theo and Liam were easygoing; Neville was too polite to refuse. The only possible obstacle was Hermione—but Padma had already built a decent friendship with her.

In truth, when Michael first suggested that everyone had to agree before adding a new member, his real intention was clear: If Wade says no, you can’t bring anyone in. The rule was meant to keep the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs from being too enthusiastic—those houses were always eager to share their “great finds.”

He knew the truth: the SSC wasn’t just a study group. It was mostly Wade who held it together. He compiled notes that made the dense textbook language readable. He taught them how to write EssayBooks in a way that turned a week’s work into a day’s. He helped them master spells with speed and precision.

Anyone who joined quickly felt the benefits. And if Gryffindor or Hufflepuff thought they were helping by bringing friends, they’d just be adding noise—and burden—to Wade’s already heavy load.

Wade wouldn’t say no outright. But eventually, as the group grew louder and more chaotic, he’d quietly vanish—just like he had now, retreating into the Umbrella Room, into solitude, into silence.

That was why Michael had set the rule. Not to be petty—but to protect the group. To keep it from collapsing under its own goodwill. And to make sure only Wade had the final say on who joined.

None of this had ever been spoken aloud. Now, facing Padma’s hopeful request, Michael just smiled and nodded.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to convince them.”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end