The November wind whipped fiercely, making the flags on the stands flap and flutter.
The cold wind stung like countless tiny ice needles, pricking the face of everyone in the Quidditch stadium stands.
The Hufflepuff section was packed to the brim, the students bundled up in scarves and thick gloves, their white, exhaled breaths instantly snatched away by the wind.
Sitting between Hannah and Susan, Stelle looked like a small animal stuffed into a nest, appearing somewhat bewildered by the deafening cheers and singing around her.
She huddled deep into her thick scarf, exposing only her golden eyes as she looked around curiously.
She was far more interested in the Fizzing Whizbee in her hand than in the high-speed players flying across the pitch.
She pressed the yellow candy against the cold wooden seat, trying to make it stand on its own.
“They’re flying so fast!” Hannah gasped, grabbing Susan’s arm nervously.
“I’m so scared someone will fall off.” Without looking up, Stelle continued to battle the stubborn piece of candy.
“It’s fine even if they fall.
Madam Pomfrey’s potions are very powerful, though I can’t guarantee the taste.” The candy finally stood up askew, wobbling for a brief two seconds before a roar of cheers for a Gryffindor attack sent it tumbling right under the seat.
“Ah.” Stelle stared at the empty seat, a flicker of regret passing through her eyes.
Just then, the situation on the pitch changed abruptly.
Harry Potter, who was chasing the Golden Snitch at high speed, suddenly experienced a violent jolt with his broom.
It began to twitch and buck frantically, trying its hardest to throw its rider off!
“Merlin’s beard!
Harry’s broom has gone mad!” Susan shrieked.
Only then did Stelle look up at the sky.
She didn’t shout like the others, but her gaze swept across the staff stands, stopping on Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape.
Both of them were staring intently at Harry, their lips moving as if chanting a spell.
“What are they doing?” Stelle muttered.
“Are they cheering on the broom from afar?” “What?
What did you say, Stelle?” Hannah asked tearfully.
Stelle didn’t answer.
Her attention was drawn by a small commotion nearby.
An overexcited Slytherin student had waved his arms and splashed half a cup of Butterbeer onto a Ravenclaw girl’s robes.
Furious, the girl’s face flushed red.
She snatched a shiny Slytherin badge pinned to her chest and threw it violently into the nearby bushes.
“Oh,” Stelle’s eyes lit up slightly.
“Littering is bad.
But what a waste to throw away something so shiny.” She stood up, lithe as a cat.
“Stelle?
Where are you going?” Susan tried to grab the hem of her robes.
“To pick up a shiny,” Stelle said matter-of-factly.
She gently slipped from Susan’s grasp and threaded her way through the restless, shifting crowd like a drop of water merging into a river, slipping down the cold stone steps at the very edge of the stands until she reached the bushes.
She squatted down, completely ignoring the massive cheers erupting behind her as Harry stabilized his broom, nor paying any mind to the roar of Gryffindor’s ultimate victory.
Her world temporarily shrank to this patch of frost-covered, sparse bushes.
She reached out with her bare, gloveless hands, paying no heed to the cold soil and rough, dry branches as she rummaged around.
Her fingertips first brushed against a cold metallic object—the discarded badge.
She picked it up and wiped off the mud.
Just as she was about to stand up, her finger brushed against something smaller and smoother.
She pried it out and held it up to her eyes.
It was a plastic disc, printed with the silly smiling face she had grown very familiar with.
The seventh Elation Token.
“What did you find this time?” a slightly out-of-breath, curious voice sounded from nearby.
Hermione Granger was standing there, clutching a stack of books to her chest.
With lingering nervousness still on her face, she looked curiously at the object in Stelle’s hand.
Stelle looked up and saw Hermione Granger standing nearby, cradling several books as thick as bricks.
The cover of *The Evolution of Modern Runes* was particularly eye-catching.
Her face was still flushed with lingering tension, her nose a bit pink from the cold, but her brown eyes had already regained their usual inquisitive gleam as they locked onto what was in Stelle’s hand.
She had obviously witnessed both the broom’s malfunction and Stelle leaving her seat.
Stelle offered both the token and the badge.
“This one’s shiny.
And this one was abandoned.” Hermione frowned, studying the token.
“What on earth is that?
You seem to care about them a lot.” “A souvenir,” Stelle said, finding a suitable word.
She pocketed the token and stood up.
Hermione lowered her voice, her expression growing grave.
“You saw Harry’s broom just now, didn’t you?
And Professor Snape.
I’d wager he was jinxing the broom!” Stelle recalled the scene in the staff stands and tilted her head.
“Professor Snape looked like he accidentally mixed Cockroach Clusters into a box of sweets.
Professor Quirrell looked more like he was holding his breath.” Hermione choked at the bizarre analogy.
“What?
Are you saying…” “I don’t know,” Stelle answered honestly, her gaze drifting down to the thick books in Hermione’s arms.
“What are you reading?
Are there pictures?” She stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a curious peek inside.
Hermione instinctively hid *Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions* behind her back.
“It’s nothing important…
and, well, thank you for your observation.” The thank-you sounded a bit awkward.
“You’re welcome,” Stelle nodded.
Her attention, like a dandelion blown by the wind, drifted toward the crowd that was starting to disperse like a receding tide.
“I’m going back.
I heard the kitchen baked raisin cakes today.” Watching Stelle amble away with an easy, relaxed back, as if she had just gone for a casual stroll, Hermione stood in place clutching her books, the cold wind whipping her thick brown hair.
Her mind was still uncontrollably echoing with the completely unscientific terms “Cockroach Clusters” and “holding breath.” She shook her head hard, trying to toss them out of her thoughts.
She decided it was far more reliable to focus on the solid clues she had found in her books.
Stelle walked up the stone steps back to the castle, her hand on her newly acquired souvenir.
The wind rustled her grey hair, carrying the warm aroma of food drifting from inside the castle.
“This is the last one,” she murmured, her fingertips tracing the surface of the new token in her pocket.
The cool plastic texture reminded her of the other smiley faces she had collected.
She pulled the token out, held it up to the sunlight, and squinted happily.
Now that she had gathered them all, what would happen next?
The thought made her heart itch with anticipation.
She looked up at the glowing windows of the castle, a vague wish bubbling up in her mind.
If only she could tell everyone on the Express crew how fun this place was—the moving staircases, the candles floating in midair, and the endless variety of novel pastries in the kitchen.
This wish was like a tiny seed, quietly taking root in her heart.
As for how exactly to make it happen, she hadn’t figured it out yet, but she was sure things would work themselves out when the time came.
Perhaps once the reward for collecting all the tokens was issued, she would find out naturally.