“Don’t worry, Cedric’s fine. Madam Pomfrey said he’ll be discharged tomorrow morning,” Kyle announced as soon as they returned to the Hufflepuff common room.
The young badgers, who had been anxiously waiting ever since leaving the Hospital Wing, perked up at the news. Even the Quidditch players, who had arrived earlier but were clearly disheartened, looked a bit relieved. Seeker Cedric’s injury had been a huge blow to team morale. Although a substitute had taken over the Chaser position, they still lost the match, 60-220—a crushing 160-point gap.
At least Cedric’s condition wasn’t too serious, which was a small comfort.
Beater Jazer, a seventh-year student, exhaled in relief. “If that’s the case, he’ll be back in time for practice tomorrow afternoon.”
Jazer, who was in his final year, had one goal before graduating: winning the Quidditch Cup for Hufflepuff.
“Damn it!” Captain Harris slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. “This can’t just be left .”
“Yes, we can’t let this slide,” someone chimed in angrily. “Slytherin hit our Seeker so blatantly! They’re showing they don’t respect you as Captain, and I can’t stand it.”
“Captain,” another voice spoke up quietly, “I heard some of the Slytherin players are going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Maybe we could—”
“Shut it, Henry,” Harris interrupted sharply, turning to glare at him. “Remember, no one lays a hand on any Slytherin players. I’ll deal with this.”
Kyle, who wasn't far away, glanced back at Harris after hearing what he said. The captain is still sharp, Kyle thought. We really can't afford to openly cause trouble with Slytherin right now.
At the moment, Hufflepuff’s house points were only about ten points behind Slytherin’s—a very narrow gap. If Snape got the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to dock Hufflepuff a hundred points. And while losing that many points wouldn’t normally bother Hufflepuff, there was a real fear that they wouldn't get the satisfaction of hitting back, and they'd still lose the points. That would be truly frustrating.
The chance of that happening wasn’t small either. Kyle suspected that a certain professor was keeping a close watch on them and might even be the one who leaked the news about the Slytherin players heading to Hogsmeade Village.
Shaking his head, Kyle stopped paying attention to the conversation. He called Mikel and Ryan over, and the three of them returned to the dormitory together.
“Kyle, what was so important that you couldn't say it outside?” Mikel asked, a bit reluctant as he’d been discussing Quidditch with the others when Kyle called him back to the dorm. He glanced at the Wimbourne Wasps poster on Kyle’s bed and sighed. “I’ve just started to realize how interesting Quidditch actually is. Too bad first years can’t join the team. But I’m definitely signing up next year! What about you guys? Want to come along?”
Mikel closed his eyes, already imagining himself soaring across the Quidditch pitch on his broomstick. He envisioned catching the Golden Snitch, with the crowd roaring his name in deafening cheers. It was a wonderful feeling...
“Wake up first, sleep later!”
An indifferent voice snapped him out of his daydream.
“Quidditch can wait until next year. You have more important things to take care of right now.”
Kyle waited until Mikel opened his eyes before reaching over and handing him a blue bottle of potion. “Time to take your medicine, buddy.”
Mikel’s smile instantly vanished when he saw the Magic Suppressing Potion.
“No way! I just took it the other day!” Mikel protested firmly.
“Sixty days ago,” Kyle corrected him. “You know you’re supposed to take it every two months.”
“It’s been two months already? That fast?” Mikel still couldn't believe it. The foul taste of the potion was so unforgettable, it felt like he had just taken it yesterday.
“Hey, did you forget?” Ryan whispered from the side. “Halloween was just a few days ago.”
Hearing this, Mikel quickly snapped back to reality. Right, it was just Halloween, he thought. So, two months really had passed.
“Okay, fine, you’re right,” Mikel admitted, his eyes darting around. “But I’ve got stuff to do later. Just leave it on the table, and I’ll drink it when I get back tonight.”
“Okay, don’t forget,” Kyle said as he placed the potion on the table.
Mikel let out an audible sigh of relief. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m heading to the library to finish my homework. See you tonight.”
As Mikel turned to leave, Kyle quietly drew his wand.
Thick ropes shot from the tip of Kyle’s wand, binding Mikel tightly.
“What are you doing? What are you doing?” Mikel struggled frantically, but it was no use. He could only watch helplessly as Kyle approached with the potion in hand.
“Don’t come any closer! Don’t come any closer!” Mikel pleaded.
“Don’t blame me. I’m upset about this too,” Kyle said sincerely as he knelt down beside him. “But I have a job to do. Dumbledore gave me the task, and I have to see it through.”
“I’m fine, really!” Mikel insisted, trying to salvage the situation. “Professor Sprout said I’ve improved a lot. There’s no way I’ll have accidents like before.”
“That was the Levitation Charm, and we’ve all learned the Floating Charm by now,” Kyle reminded him.
“Then I don’t need a wand!” Mikel cried out, still struggling. “I can do it without a wand, right?”
Kyle shook his head. “Doing Charm class without a wand is like playing Quidditch without a broom.”
Kyle gave Ryan a subtle signal, and Ryan immediately caught on. Rolling up his sleeves, he stepped forward.
Together, the two of them managed to get the Magic Suppressing Potion down Mikel’s throat without spilling a single drop.
Ryan, holding the now-empty bottle, asked curiously, “What exactly is this stuff?”
“Magic Suppressing Potion. It’s pretty rare,” Kyle explained.
“Yeah,” Kyle replied, pausing to think. “Let me put it this way: if you weren’t at Hogwarts, you’d need at least fifty Galleons to get your hands on a potion . And that would be for the lowest quality version.”
“Fifty Galleons?!” Ryan gasped. His wand had only cost seven Galleons, and this one potion was worth seven wands?
“Yep. But the one you just saw was made by Professor Snape himself,” Kyle continued. “A potion brewed by a master like him would sell for double that in Diagon Alley—around 100 Galleons.”
Even Mikel, who had been lying on the floor pretending to be a limp fish, suddenly sat up when he heard that number.
He had just swallowed something worth 100 Galleons?
Mikel smacked his lips, trying to catch the sweet aftertaste.