Hermione and Silan remained completely lost in their own little world of studying, and before they knew it, dinner time had arrived.
They packed up their things and made their way down to the Great Hall.
The rumor about the morning’s apology was still spreading, and it was showing signs of becoming more ridiculous by the hour.
Silan didn’t care at all.
Students at this age had far too much energy and wild imaginations; a tiny bit of gossip in their mouths could easily turn into an world-shaking event.
Even Lockhart’s storytelling skills would probably pale in comparison.
The moment Silan and Hermione stepped into the Great Hall, dozens of eyes turned toward them, and several students began whispering to their friends.
“What are they saying?” Hermione asked.
“Ignore them,” Silan replied, looking over the platters on the tables.
“Where do you want to sit?” Hermione felt a bit uncomfortable under all the staring.
“Why don’t we take some food and eat outside?
Down by the Black Lake–the view should be beautiful around sunset.” “Sounds good.” The two of them gathered some food from their respective house tables and walked out of the Great Hall.
“A Gryffindor hanging around with a Slytherin,” Ron said, watching Hermione’s retreating back with a bit of a sneer.
“Maybe the Sorting Hat made a mistake with her.” “Slytherins aren’t all that bad,” Harry said, looking up from his plate.
Ron pointed his fork toward Draco Malfoy, who was currently shoving another student out of his way.
“I really wish you’d look at Malfoy before saying something like that.” “Don’t you think Silan is different, though?” “Since when are you two on a first-name basis anyway?” Paying no mind to anyone else, Silan and Hermione carried their food down to the edge of the Black Lake and began assembling sandwiches.
Hogwarts was nestled deep in the Scottish Highlands, where the air lacked the heavy, permanent fog of London.
The sun was setting, painting the silhouettes of the nearby hills in warm twilight colors, while the Black Lake stretched out as still as a sheet of dark glass.
They picked a spot with a wonderful view, made sandwiches for each other, and enjoyed their dinner against the backdrop of the rolling green hills and the peaceful lake.
A gentle breeze swept over the hills, rippling across the dark water and sending small waves through the long grass.
Once they finished eating, they didn’t rush back inside.
Instead, they lay back on the grass, looking up at the sky and chatting.
“You know, Silan?
I’m really glad we came to Hogwarts together.” “Me too.” “We go to classes together, do our homework together, eat, and talk…
just like we used to.” “It’ll stay that way, too.” “So, you’ll always be with me?” “Of course.” The sun finally sank completely behind the mountains, and the twilight slowly faded into dusk.
Meanwhile, Mr.
Arthur Weasley arrived home after a long, exhausting day at work.
He was a thin man, and though his hair was thinning on top, what remained was just as bright red as his children’s.
He was wearing his usual, slightly worn green travel robes, looking a bit dusty from his journey.
Arthur carried his briefcase in one hand and held a brown paper bag tightly against his chest with the other.
It was a Muggle artifact he had taken from the Ministry.
Officially, he was bringing it home to dispose of it, but in reality, he just wanted to take it apart and see how it worked.
Although he was the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, he was an absolute Muggle enthusiast who loved studying anything they invented.
Pushing the door open, Arthur noticed that the house was unusually dark.
His wife, Molly, was sitting silently at the kitchen table.
The lights weren’t on, and the room was lit only by a few dim candles.
A heavy, somber atmosphere hung in the air, so thick it felt almost tangible.
“What’s wrong, Molly-wobbles?” It was Arthur’s private pet name for her, used only when the two of them were completely alone.
Usually, hearing it would make Molly smile or blush, but today she didn’t react at all.
She simply sat in her chair, holding a piece of parchment.
The candlelight illuminated only half of her face, leaving her expression hidden in the shadows.
“Oh, you’re home, Arthur.” Molly blinked, snapping out of her daze.
She smoothed down her apron and used the back of her hand to wipe the corner of her eye.
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?
Let me make you something.” “No, no, don’t worry about that.
I’m more worried about you,” Arthur said, sitting down beside her.
“What happened?
Talk to me.” Molly silently handed him the letter from Professor McGonagall.
Arthur took it, scanned the lines, and his hand gave a sudden twitch.
The content was very straightforward.
Professor McGonagall was simply asking Molly if her late brother, Fabian Prewett, had ever had a Muggle girlfriend.
To suddenly ask about a man who had passed away over a decade ago was strange enough on its own.
To ask about something so deeply personal made it even more baffling.
Arthur knew Professor McGonagall was a strict, professional woman; she would never send a letter like this without a very good reason.
“It’s my nephew…” Molly finally spoke, her voice raspy and laced with a tight, painful emotion.
“When I dropped the kids off at the station on Monday, I met a boy named Silan Prewett.” “Oh, Arthur…
you don’t know…
you just don’t know…” At that point, Molly could no longer hold back.
A sob escaped her lips.
“That boy…
he looks so much like my brother Fabian.” “I never thought–I never even dreamed that a part of the Prewett family might still be alive!
Oh, Arthur…
a Prewett…
I saw a Prewett child.” Molly gripped Arthur’s hand tightly, her tear-filled eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight.
Arthur was completely stunned, a wave of disbelief washing over him.
Gideon and Fabian Prewett had died as heroes during the First Wizarding War, fighting bravely against Voldemort.
To the rest of the wizarding world, they were legendary figures.
But to Arthur, they were his brothers-in-law and his trusted comrades in the Order of the Phoenix.
Yet, he had never heard a single whisper about Fabian having a child.
Arthur pulled Molly into a warm embrace, gently patting her back to comfort her.
“If that boy really is your nephew, Molly, then this is wonderful news.
It’s a miracle.
You should be happy.” “It’s not completely certain yet.
I’ve asked someone to look into it,” Molly murmured into his shoulder.
“But my heart tells me it’s true.
I could never forget my brother’s face.
The resemblance is just too striking.” “Alright, Molly-wobbles, clear those tears.
Once everything is verified, we’ll bring him home,” Arthur said, genuinely happy for his wife.
“Our family is growing again.” “But that means even more financial pressure on you,” Molly whispered, her voice cracking.
Arthur simply smiled, acting as though it were the easiest thing in the world.
“We already have so many children, what’s one more?
At least we don’t have to raise this one from a baby.” He cracked a small joke at the end to lighten the mood.
Even though he held a departmental position at the Ministry, raising such a large family on his single income was incredibly difficult, and money was always tight.
But this boy wasn’t just his wife’s blood–he was the orphan of a fallen war hero.
Arthur would never allow him to fend for himself in the world.
Molly gave his shoulder a gentle, affectionate swat, then drew her wand to finally start cooking dinner.
Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, Silan and Hermione had returned to their respective common rooms after dinner.
Pulling out The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 which he had borrowed from the library, Silan began practicing the new spells detailed inside.
While the book didn’t contain any exceptionally dark or high-level magic, it was packed with an incredible variety of practical charms.
It had the largest collection of spells out of the entire standard series, which meant it would keep him busy for quite some time.
[Spell Inspiration: Proficiency +1] [Spell Inspiration: Proficiency +1] [Spell Inspiration: Proficiency +1] Silan kept practicing until he was completely exhausted.
Looking around his thoroughly trashed dormitory room, he raised his wand.
“Reparo.” In the blink of an eye, every torn curtain, cracked bit of wood, and dented piece of furniture mended itself perfectly.
Although he had tried his best to contain the power of his spells during practice, the noise had still been significant–enough to make the first-years in the next room start banging angrily on the wall.
*This won’t work long-term,* Silan thought.
*I need to find a proper place to practice.* *Where should I go?
The Room of Requirement?* *Yes, that’s the one.
I’ll have to go searching for it soon.* After thinking it over, Silan cast a freshly learned Scourgify charm on himself to vanish the dust and sweat from his robes, then climbed into bed.
Friday would bring their very first Potions class with Professor Snape.
It was finally time to see what his Potions Genius talent could really do.