After instructing Gaia to head back and rest up to heal properly, Linus tucked a wooden board under his arm, picked up two boxes of game pieces, and made a bee-line for the Headmaster’s office on the third floor.
It was his first time seeing the gargoyle statue, but Linus didn’t even have time to greet it.
He got straight to the point.
“I need a favor from the Headmaster.
Would you mind opening the door?”
The statue remained motionless.
“No good, huh?
How rigid.
Fine, I’ll use the most primitive method available,” Linus resolved quietly.
The portraits along the corridor gathered round, eager to see what young Linus was up to.
“Pepper Imps.” The statue ignored him.
“Fizzing Whizbees.” The statue stayed still.
“Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Jelly Slugs, Acid Pops…” Linus stood before the statue and began reciting the names of every candy he had learned over the past two days.
Goodness knows how astonished Hermione had been when she heard him collecting them.
The Weasley twins, on the other hand, had immediately accepted him as a true Gryffindor—though their approval wasn’t worth much anyway.
After Linus listed over a thousand candy names, the door to the Headmaster’s office remained firmly shut.
The gargoyle sat frozen as though it had fallen asleep.
“Plan B then: name people.” Linus pivoted instantly, having exhausted his stock of candy names.
“Albus Dumbledore,” Linus said.
The gargoyle instantly leaped aside, and the wall behind it split in two.
The Headmaster, wearing moon-white spectacles, stood at the entrance of his office, a spiral staircase winding up behind him.
Linus strolled toward the staircase like he owned the place, talking as he walked.
“Quite narcissistic of you, Professor, using your own name as the password.”
“I don’t believe that was the correct password,” Dumbledore said, stepping onto the escalator behind Linus.
“Mr.
Armando Dippet simply came to inform me that a junior student was standing outside my door reciting over a thousand candy names, and curiosity compelled me to come see for myself.”
Linus rushed into the reception room, found the portrait of the wizened old man with pinpoint precision, and bowed to him.
“Thank you very much, Mr.
Dippet.”
The old man in the frame looked delighted.
“It’s rare to see a child with such good manners these days.”
“I take it you’re implying I haven’t educated the students of this school properly?” Dumbledore teased from behind Linus.
“You’re too suspicious, Albus.
I was merely praising the boy for being unique,” Dippet muttered.
“Have some candy, my boy,” Dumbledore said, pulling a few Cockroach Clusters from his pocket and offering them to Linus.
“No, thank you, Professor,” Linus declined immediately.
“Well then, care to tell me the purpose of your visit, Mr.
Linus Sunwood?” Dumbledore asked.
Linus nodded, adjusted his black robes and hair, and looked at Dumbledore.
“Professor, let’s have a fair duel!”
Dumbledore blinked.
“I take it this duel won’t require wands?”
“Of course not.
A fair duel of Five-in-a-Row.” Linus was already laying out the board and pieces on the table.
“I thought it would be Go,” Dumbledore said, sitting down opposite Linus with a cheerful smile.
“Though why should I accept your request for a duel?”
“In exchange for my carefully prepared list of a thousand sweets—and because if you refuse, I will come here every day to train the gargoyle’s hearing.” Linus blustered with utter confidence.
Dumbledore shrugged.
“It seems I have no choice, then.” With that, he picked up a black piece and pressed it onto the board.
For an hour, Dumbledore and Linus traded wins and losses, and the novice quest was completed long before they finished.
Linus checked the clock on the wall, stood up, and took his leave.
“Professor, I ought to go.”
“Yes, time really flies,” Dumbledore said, looking out the window at the emerging stars.
As Linus packed up the board, Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles.
“Linus, Minerva tells me you have a remarkable talent for Transfiguration.”
Linus didn’t stop packing, but when Dumbledore didn’t follow up with another word, he looked up and said, “I’m listening, Professor.”
Dumbledore chuckled softly.
“Hogwarts is a very safe place.
There is no need to hide your talent.” He paused, then added, “Besides, for a centenarian like me, what sort of extraordinary talent haven’t I seen?”
Linus finally finished putting away the pieces.
He started toward the door, waving his hand behind his back.
“You worry too much, Professor.
I feel very safe here.
Good night, Professor, sweet dreams.”
‘Of course, what makes me feel safest is this line: [Charms (Gold) Lv1 [46/100]],’ Linus thought to himself.
Returning to the dormitory, Linus ran into Harry and Ron, who were coming back from Hagrid’s hut loaded with rock cakes.
They warmly invited him to help finish off the treats.
“Harry, I don’t recall offending you in any way,” Linus said, looking at the rock cake Harry offered while shaking his head like a rattle.
“No, Linus, I just wanted to express my thanks for your help in Potions class this afternoon,” Harry explained hurriedly.
Linus firmly pushed the cake back into Harry’s hand.
“Promise me, Harry—unless you want me spending my youth eating soft porridge because my teeth broke off, please never offer me food that can shatter jaws again.”
“A-All right,” Harry said, sheepishly pulling back the cake.
Ron shouted excitedly from the side, “Linus, the way you made that old greasy bat eat his words in Potions class was amazing!”
“Ron, promise me too—never give a professor nicknames,” Linus said heavily, patting Ron on the shoulder.
“W-Why?
I didn’t think you respected the professors that much, considering how bold you were in class,” Ron said in surprise.
He found out why a second later, when a low, icy voice echoed from behind him: “Ron Weasley.
Contempt for a Head of House.
Five points from Gryffindor.”
Ron and Harry spun around in shock to find Professor Snape staring at them with a dark face and a cold, mirthless smile.
They quickly bowed and apologized together.
“Sorry, Professor!”
Snape let out a cold sneer, swept his robes around, and strode off.
Ron wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead and muttered, “Linus, you should have told us he was behind us!”
Linus smiled wryly and held out his hands.
“I gave you a hint straight away.”
“What’s that you’re holding?” Children’s attention span always shifted fast, and Ron quickly asked about the board in Linus’s hands.
“This is Five-in-a-Row.
Let me teach you how to play.” Linus gestured for them to follow him back to the common room.
And so, starting that night, Ron’s obsession shifted from Wizard’s Chess to Five-in-a-Row.
***
“I have a feeling you’re the mastermind behind why they haven’t finished their homework.”
On Monday, Hermione frowned at Linus across the Gryffindor table, looking at Ron, Harry, Neville, and Seamus, who all had dark circles under their eyes after playing chess all weekend.
“Please don’t slander me.
I haven’t profited from the sport of Five-in-a-Row,” Linus replied with a straight face.
“But you seem to be short on money,” Hermione said, recalling his request for a loan a few days ago.
Linus shook his head.
“My primary task right now is studying.
Making money is something to think about after the holidays start.”
“Actually, I have some money I could lend you.
If you need it,” Hermione offered.
Linus patted her shoulder.
“Don’t worry about me.” Then he patted Harry’s shoulder.
“I’ve got Harry!”
Unaware of what was going on, Harry turned around and gave Hermione a helpful smile.
Upset that her plan to help a friend—which she had agonized over all week—had been so flatly rejected, Hermione kicked Linus in frustration.
Linus didn’t mind at all; he just chuckled and patted her on the head.