The following week passed swiftly and everyone got busy.

Felix had to focus more on the fifth and seventh year, which is, after all, a grade where the future of a young wizard lay at stake. Of course, he also sincerely hoped that more people would take up the study of runes – not the old-fashioned translation, but something like his field of study.

He also had to tend to the little devil’s snare, as well as whomping willow branches with a magic infusion that would make or break his first magical artefact.

And then there were the instant killing techniques, which could not be abandoned.

Many forbidden books in the library were still waiting for him to sort through and read …

Everyone else had been busy too, Harry was busy with Quidditch training, the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team became anxious as the first match approached, they used the time in the evenings to practice extra hrs every day after class.

Hermione had to find some professor to get a sign on top of her daily practice of runes and looking up information on the Chamber of Secret’s monster.

She managed to get a signature from Professor Lockhart without any problems, and with slightly exaggerated bragging words, Lockhart signed his big-name without even reading the content of the note.

“That was very witty of you when you caught that last ghoul with the colander …” Hermione blushed a little at the thought of what she had said.

But luckily, the project of brewing a Polyjuice Potion went off without a hitch.

“It’ll take about a month to brew it, in or around Christmas,” Hermione said cheerfully.

Harry and Ron crouched sadly on the lavatory room floor, which had got a bit nasty.

The rest of the day went by without a new attack occurring at the school, or an unknown monster popping out and turning the young wizards to stone.

The young witches also lost interest in the legends and secrets of a thousand years ago and even suspected that the last incident was a bad prank, the victim being Filch’s cat, the “accomplice” of the most unpleasant castle keeper.

A young wizard already swore that he had seen a sneaky shadow wandering around the second floor before the incident, holding a piece of cake that had been spiked with a petrifying potion!

Such rumours spread faster than the truth, so within a week everyone was talking about what petrifying potion could achieve a similar effect, leaving Dumbledore at his wits’ end, stuck waiting for the mandrake to ripen to configure an antidote.

But the professors at Hogwarts knew what the truth was, and they spent the week searching the entire castle, only in vain. So they could only order the Head Boy and Head Girl to undertake the task of spreading the propaganda.

Percy then gave an example of his own brother wandering around the abandoned girls’ lavatory during a Gryffindor assembly to illustrate the irrational and dangerous nature of such behaviour.

The scene was so heated that Ron almost got into a fight with his brother.

“You shamelessly ambitious man who cares only for his own power! I am your brother! Your brother! You’re a total power animal!” Ron’s ears were red as he cursed loudly.

“I am a Head boy of Gryffindor! I have to think about the badge on my chest, understand, dumbass!” Percy shouted with the same red ears.

“And you were there! You also went to the girls’ lavatory!”

“I was doing my duty as a Head Boy! A ten-point minus for Gryffindor!”

But all in all, there existed harmony and camaraderie at Hogwarts.

This peace lasted until Saturday’s first Quidditch game of the school year.

This Quidditch game is highly anticipated, firstly because it’s between two old rivals, Gryffindor and Slytherin, and secondly, because Slytherin had “shamelessly” received off-field assistance, with the whole team riding the world’s most advanced broomstick, the Nimbus 2001.

The other two teams wanted to see the power of the Nimbus 2001 in action.

Felix didn’t bother to go, just stood outside the tower and took a glance from afar.

He had little interest in Quidditch competitions, and it wasn’t because he had failed his first year flying class; there was no causal relationship between the two.

He just liked to be quiet rather than lively, and didn’t really like too much noise.

Still, Felix wanted to spit on Hogwarts’ curriculum, why were flying lessons only available in his first year? It made it impossible for him to even brush up on his points.

He’s flying steadily now, okay!

That afternoon, he heard the big news that Harry Potter had been injured on the pitch, breaking his arm in a shattered, crumbling kind of way.

It was only thanks to Professor Lockhart’s presence and powerful magic to extract the shattered bone fragments from Harry’s arm that the Gryffindor genius seeker’s career got salvaged.

“This is all a load of bollocks!”

Hermione said indignantly in the evening, this incident completely broke her fanboy filter and Lockhart remained black all her life from then on.

The truth is that Harry had simply fallen and broken his arm, something a simple healing spell could have fixed, but with Lockhart’s “enthusiastic help” he had to stay at the school clinic and take a “Skele-Gro” to make the bones grow back.

Felix shivered at the thought of the sewer smell of the Skele-Gro.

Later that night, Felix dropped the young witch off and was about to watch a film to refresh himself when Dumbledore’s Phoenix Patronus flew in through the window.

The Patronus appeared before him, and Dumbledore’s solemn voice came from its mouth.

“Felix, come quickly to the Professor’s Common Room, there is an emergency.”

When Felix arrived swiftly, a number of professors had already gathered in this office, obviously arriving in a hurry, a few still in their pyjamas.

Dumbledore sat solemnly in his chair, his eyes half-closed, and Professor McGonagall kept rubbing her hands together.

“What’s happened?” Felix asked in a whisper as he moved closer to Snape.

Snape glanced at him before whispering, “The attack has happened again, a second time.”

Felix frowned.

“Who was it?”

“Colin Creevey, that fanatical Potter wannabe.”

Felix had no recollection of him at all and aside, Professor McGonagall said with a sad expression, “He only started this year and has always admired Harry … yes, always carries a camera with him, I recall him well … I heard he’s already mailed three photo albums home. Oh, dear!”

Felix picked up that broken camera on the table and a strong smell of charred air hit him.

After another ten minutes, a cheerful, pleasant voice pushed open the door to the room, “Did I miss something?”

Lockhart, dressed in gold pyjamas, walked into the room, slightly taken aback, “So many people!” But his next comment made the professors glare at him, what he said was, “Is everyone having a pyjama party?”

“I’m the best at this, I’m seasoned in this!” Lockhart winked and flashed his trademark toothy grin.