Wade instinctively leaned back, causing his chair to tilt up.
Antoine's passion for publishing a book was like a raging fire, but Wade always felt he was exaggerating, describing the book's significance far too optimistically.
Back in college, Wade had audited some educational theory courses to help a friend with attendance. He clearly understood that compared to the stagnant Wizarding World, Muggle society's educational methods had long since blossomed. However, the educators who proposed various methods and theories often had their names relegated to just prefixes of a teaching theory.
It was like the Feynman Learning Method; even though its knowledge retention rate could reach over ninety percent, people were too lazy to learn it because it was time-consuming and troublesome, even if they knew about it.
But he didn't voice his thoughts, only saying, "Thank you, Antoine... If we publish a book, what do you need me to do?"
Antoine's eyes lit up, but he clicked his tongue, saying, "You can't be too proactive about this, Wade, or a whole bunch of old folks will think you're too presumptuous."
"I'll state in the book's preface that this is an initiative spontaneously organized by the students you helped—of course, the final product will still need you to review and polish it."
As he spoke, he pulled a small notebook from his pocket and jotted down a few notes.
Antoine sat on the desk, and through the gaps in his fingers, Wade could see the flipped-over page read: [Third Spell Study Group teaching record... can be summarized as... problems encountered in learning are...]
The somewhat messy handwriting clearly showed that Antoine had written it whenever he had a spare moment.
"Are you sure?" Wade sighed. "You're a professor at Salem, helping Hogwarts students publish a book? And without attribution?"
Antoine waved his hand and said, "Right now, I'm not Antoine, the Salem professor; I'm Student A from the Spell Research Society..."
He blinked and chuckled, "Thanks to the Book of Friends, I can reach agreements with those kids without meeting them or revealing my true name."
Wade: "...But how do you have their contact information?"
"The Spell Study Group chat! You mean you're not in it? We chat away enthusiastically every day!"
Antoine was even more surprised than him. Seeing Wade's expression freeze slightly, he burst out laughing:
"Hahahahaha... They probably didn't give you a Book of Friends because they were afraid of disturbing you? After all, you're already giving free lessons twice a week. It wouldn't be appropriate to keep asking for help during your downtime."
Wade felt a moment of dejection, then laughed along.
Indeed, even if he joined such a group chat, he'd find it time-consuming. Most likely, it would sit idle like other groups most of the time, only occasionally glanced at, and he'd rarely speak.
"Anyway, leave this matter to me. I'll show you the first draft once it's done."
Antoine said excitedly, then added, "Oh, and for the second competition, don't eliminate Hope!"
"After all, she's the only contestant left from Salem. If she's eliminated early, Ms. Owens might take everyone from Salem and fly back home overnight, and then I wouldn't be able to stay here openly."
"The second project is very troublesome; I wasn't planning on continuing to filter out opponents," Wade said. "But what if she can't pass the competition herself?"
"Then let nature take its course," Antoine said decisively. "You can't be her babysitter."
"That's good."
Wade looked out the window. The last rays of sunset stretched the shadows of a few people on the lawn.
From above, it looked as if several black Giants had appeared at the school.
"Speaking of which—" After a moment of silence, Wade softly asked, "What did Mr. Grindelwald think of this competition?"
"Hmm?" Antoine was pondering what to write in his small notebook. He paused at the question, then snapped back to attention, a mysterious smile on his face.
"He said you're like a young Thunderbird—"
Antoine drew out his words, then smiled as Wade turned to look at him, "Your first flap of wings stirred up a storm."
Wade felt a slight stir in his heart. He pursed his lips, not speaking immediately.
Antoine leaned over and patted his shoulder again.
"Mr. Grindelwald also asked me to tell you to walk your own path and not look back at the shadows behind you."
While Wade was silent, he chuckled again, "Of course... if you're concerned, you know you can contact him directly, right?"
After speaking, without waiting for Wade's reply, he jumped off the desk and straightened Wade's chair.
"Alright, hurry back to your common room. Your classmates must be waiting to celebrate with you!" Antoine said. "I'm going to ask dear Angelina if she wants to be the second author. We've been chatting quite well lately."
...
Wade walked alone up the spiral staircase. As he passed, the portraits on either side turned to look at him, whispering to each other, some even waving and smiling.
It seemed the details of the first project competition had spread among the portraits. Griffiths had even chased him for a while, incessantly asking about Wade's competition and bragging about his dragon-hunting exploits from his youth.
"I froze a black Dragon when I was in Romania, but then its mate came looking for it, and that fellow burned my favorite robe!"
"Have I ever told you about the time I trapped a group of Ukrainian Ironbellies? I was supposed to be gathering rock-grown herbs that day, but I ended up surrounded by five Dragons..."
Suddenly, an exceptionally loud voice rang out from another portrait: "I heard someone talking about dragon hunting?"
Griffiths's steps instantly halted. "Oh... Bother!"
A stocky knight in armor, riding a plump pony, clanked into the portrait where Griffiths was.
The original owner of the portrait was squeezed into a corner, fuming and glaring, but no one paid him any attention.
The knight loudly declared, "Hey! What's so special about dealing with those docile domesticated Dragons? Back in my day, I rode this old fellow and risked my life to defeat a Wyvern!"
"That beast wanted to eat us all, but Sir Cadogan bravely pierced its tongue with a broken Wand! Do you know how I set it on fire after that? It was an unrepeatable feat..."
While Griffiths was entangled with Sir Cadogan, Wade quickened his pace, passed through the spiral staircase, and entered the Ravenclaw common room.
The knocker gently asked, "Born in battle, adorned with cheer; he who finds me is wild, he who loses me is bewildered—who am I?"
Wade chuckled in response, "Victory."
"Correct."
The door swung open.
Instantly, brilliant blue light streamed out, sparkling fireworks erupted from the tip of a Wand, and the long tables were laden with abundant food. Countless smiling faces greeted Wade, the warm air hazy, blurring his vision.
"Raise your glasses—"
Penelope stood on a stool, holding her goblet high, her face flushed with excitement. "To celebrate today's victory—to Wade Gray!"
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