The Slytherins murmured amongst themselves, the logic of Malfoy's plan resonating with their ambition. They all felt the truth in his words. More importantly, none of them wanted to spend the next two weeks in the mind-numbing, repetitive practice of the Lumos Charm. If a shortcut to victory presented itself, why not take it?
Soon, they had concocted several inflammatory duel challenges, sending them off with the castle's unsuspecting owls. As they imagined Harry Potter and Ciel foolishly sneaking to the dueling grounds only to be caught red-handed by Filch, sinister smirks spread across their faces. Malfoy even offered a silent, fervent prayer. If they could both be expelled, he thought gleefully, that would be even better.
Back in the quiet warmth of the greenhouse, Ciel was meticulously tending to his plants when a small bell near his experimental plot suddenly chimed. He paused, recognizing the magical alert system Professor Sprout had told him about.
It was an old Hufflepuff invention. In the past, students would become so absorbed in their work among the plants that they would lose all track of time, sometimes missing important mail. After one student nearly missed a letter regarding a death in their family, the enchanted bells were installed. Whenever a student in the greenhouse received a letter, the nearest bell would ring. If one didn't respond with a quiet "I know," the chiming would grow progressively louder, a gentle but persistent reminder that could not be ignored.
Ciel felt a flicker of confusion. Besides Professor Sprout, he couldn't think of anyone in the magical world who would be writing to him, and he saw his aunt every day. Who could it be?
Then, a single possibility came to mind. Professor Sprout did say she ordered a Nimbus 2000 for me from the company. A new broomstick. Could it have arrived?
It was too valuable an item to leave sitting in the Owlery. Besides, it felt disrespectful not to immediately collect a gift chosen so thoughtfully by his aunt. Setting aside his tools, Ciel wiped the soil from his hands and walked out of the greenhouse.
As he re-entered the main castle, heading towards the Hufflepuff common room, a figure appeared in the corridor ahead of him.
He looked up in surprise. It was Hermione Granger, her familiar bushy brown hair framing a face etched with distress. Since the Sorting Ceremony, their interactions had been limited to the classroom. Hermione was a creature of the library; he was a resident of the greenhouses. Their paths rarely crossed.
He noted her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she'd recently been crying. A shadow of gloom and confusion hung about her.
"Of course," Ciel nodded, offering a gentle smile. "I was just heading back to the common room. If you don't mind, shall we talk as we walk?"
Hermione's shoulders sagged with relief, and she gave him a grateful look.
"Hermione, what's happened?" he asked softly.
His simple question seemed to flip a switch, and the words came pouring out in a rush of pent-up frustration. "I just don't understand it! Why is it that when I work so hard to earn points for Gryffindor, no one appreciates it? They act as if I'm an overbearing nuisance… they seem to genuinely dislike me for it."
Her eyes welled with fresh tears, and she quickly raised a hand to cover her face, trying to compose herself. Sniffling, she recounted the day's events.
"The Lumos final is in two weeks. We all know how many points are at stake. I'm confident I can get first place, but if Gryffindor could secure another top spot, we'd be sure to take the lead in the House Cup." She suddenly stopped, realizing how that might sound, and quickly waved her hands. "Oh! I don't mean to underestimate you, Ciel, not at all."
Ciel smiled reassuringly. "It's alright, I understand. Our top student, Hermione Granger, of course has the confidence to place first in any exam." A strange, knowing expression crossed his face. "Let me guess… you didn't happen to suggest that everyone use the weekend for extra practice, with you as their tutor, did you?"
Hermione nodded emphatically, her bewilderment clear. "Yes! That's exactly what I said. Instead of sleeping in or playing Wizard's Chess, wouldn't it be better to practice Lumos and earn points for our House? But no one except Neville was willing to listen. I truly don't understand what they're thinking!"
Ciel suppressed a sigh. The very nature of a Gryffindor was to be bold, restless, and a little wild. Unless it was a dueling club, or Dumbledore's Army as formed in the future, getting them to voluntarily gather for extra lessons was an impossible task. Even Harry didn't have that kind of influence yet, let alone Hermione. It was a thankless, destined-to-fail endeavor.
And then, his eyes suddenly lit up. The unruly Gryffindors might not need Hermione's guidance, but the Hufflepuffs certainly did. He knew his housemates were worried about the upcoming test, ashamed of their poor showing in the last one. They didn't want him to carry the burden of Hufflepuff's lead all by himself. Unfortunately, Hufflepuff students were generally late bloomers, their strengths accumulating slowly over time. They were finding it difficult to force a breakthrough.
But if a top student like Hermione were to lead them… their efficiency would skyrocket. They might actually have a chance at placing.
An idea took shape, and he extended an invitation. "Hermione, we Hufflepuffs are desperate for talent. If you were willing to guide my housemates, I guarantee they would listen to every word. Our badgers are incredibly eager to improve."
Hermione hesitated, a flicker of conflict on her face. Her goal, after all, was to help Gryffindor win. Wouldn't helping Hufflepuff just create a stronger rival?
Seeing her indecision, Ciel seamlessly changed tactics. "Alright, forget about that. Just consider it a visit, then. A way to relax and clear your head. Our common room has the best snacks and tea at Hogwarts," he said with a warm smile. "Think of it as repayment for chatting with me for so long."
She finally relented. "Well… alright."
A subtle, satisfied smile touched Ciel's lips. The moment she set foot in the Hufflepuff common room, the matter would be settled. How could the girl who knew everything possibly resist the urge to correct others?
And indeed, moments after arriving, Hermione was sitting on a plush armchair with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits, looking as if she were sitting on pins and needles. She tried her best to look anywhere but at the Hufflepuffs diligently practicing their Lumos Charms nearby. In her expert opinion, their wands were angled wrong, their incantations were imprecise, and their focus was scattered—there were simply too many mistakes to count. It took an immense force of will to curb her instinct to march over and start teaching.
But five minutes later, when Hannah Abbott made the same simple mistake for the seventh time in a row, Hermione could no longer hold back. The dam of her restraint shattered.
She shot to her feet, wand snapping into her hand.
"Stop!" her voice rang out, sharp and clear. "That's not how you cast Lumos at all!"
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