My heart skipped a beat as the photo came to life. There we were, Jacob and I, jumping up and down and grinning at Mom. She must have thought it was because we were excited. Mischievous, giggling, and making silly faces at each other. Little did she...
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How'd my studying been, you ask?
It's been quite an adventure, to say the least. First, that Slytherin, Merula Snyde, blew up my cauldron, then lured us into a room full of Devil's Snare, and to top it all off, ambushed me in the courtyard. How could one cause so much trouble? Life happened to be quite eventful, thanks to dear old Merula.
But amidst all the chaos, I came to appreciate the benefits of the castle's floor rugs, especially when sneaking back late at night. They'd proven to be invaluable allies, muffling my footsteps as effectively as any stealthy spell.
Whoosh! I strained my ears, listening for the telltale sounds of Filch's shuffling feet or the haunting meows of Mrs. Norris. The castle seemed deceptively silent, though I had nearly collided with them earlier in the corridor, on the way to the Grand Staircase.
Ah, those stairs! They were unlike any I had encountered before. Ro and I had a knack for getting lost on our way to class, stumbling upon dead-end wings, and even falling through invisible steps. But nothing compared to the frustration when the stairs suddenly changed direction, which, of course, happened once again tonight.
When I finally made it to the common room, the clock struck midnight. The door knocker, a weathered brass eagle, came alive, its voice echoing in the corridor.
"One of the Geliders, a Ravenclaw bright, is late to the dorms in the dead of night," it declared, its tone filled with a sarcastic quip.
"Sh-h! Keep it down, will you? And what's with the poetry act?"
Undeterred, the door knocker continued, "Attend to a puzzle, complex and grand! Answer me right to enter this land."
Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I muttered, "Urgh! Honestly, the only person who could make this night even crazier is..."
As I stepped into the common room, I was greeted by an unexpected sight — it wasn't empty for once.
"Chester?" His quill hovered just above the parchment, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Glancing at the clock, his eyebrow climbed even higher, brimming with curiosity. "Chester, you're... actually, you're just the one I need!"
The arched eyebrow reached its zenith of inquiry. Flopping into the chair beside him, I stated plainly, "You're the Prefect. Teach me how to fight!"
Chester looked less than thrilled as he inspected his incomplete work, noting the fresh blot. Then he turned his attention to me, clearly not too eager to give combat lessons.
"Tell me, Mia Gelider, do I look like a madman to you?"
I quickly scanned him, taking in the empty bottles of Wideye potion and the stack of books, some with purple covers, from the Forbidden Section. Chester snapped his fingers in front of my eyes.
