Hogwarts in December was gripped by a biting wind, with occasional sleet. Howling drafts swept through the castle corridors, chilling every passing student to the bone.
Every time Wade walked past the grounds on his way to class in the greenhouses, he'd see Hagrid bustling about.
His relationship with Madame Maxime seemed to be progressing very well, and Hagrid, like a peacock fanning its tail, not only dressed himself up splendidly all day but also tried every way to please her, even extending his affection to the Abraxans.
A few days ago, Wade saw Hagrid build a huge stable for the Abraxans. Lately, he'd been busy hand-knitting wool horse blankets for them, even meticulously adding patterns.
Care of Magical Creatures class had also turned into learning how to care for Abraxans—the Thestrals at Hogwarts never got this kind of treatment!
As soon as class started, Hagrid came over, lugging a huge barrel of wine. He cheerfully announced, "Look, twelve-year-old pure malt whiskey, the Abraxans' favorite! You'll mix it with their feed..."
By the end of the class, the strong smell of alcohol alone had made many students dizzy. Michael even secretly drank some of the wine he was given. By the time class was dismissed, his neck was red, and he was so drunk he almost stumbled into a tree before Wade pulled him back just in time.
Michael squinted at the person beside him for a long moment, then suddenly exclaimed in surprise:
"Merlin's beard... Wade, why didn't you tell me... you have a twin brother?"
Wade: "...You're drunk, Michael."
As soon as Hagrid came over with the barrel, he had cautiously pulled out his Wand and turned a tissue into a filter mask, thus avoiding getting as drunk as the others.
Michael waved his hands repeatedly: "No... I'm not drunk... I just had a tiny sip..."
He spoke with a slurred tongue, stumbling as he tried to lean on Padma, only to be pulled back by Wade under the girl's disgusted gaze.
Wade said helplessly, "Come on, the Hospital Wing should have a sobering Potion."
"O-okay... to the Hospital Wing..." Michael, who had just claimed not to be drunk, let out a burp and mumbled, "I think I can't find my feet anymore..."
A thin layer of frost covered the castle stairs. As Michael was about to step up, his legs suddenly gave out, and he almost fell to his knees before his arm was grabbed.
"Thanks, mate... you saved my life..." Michael slurred.
He finally managed to climb the steps when the oak doors ahead suddenly opened. Professor McGonagall stood in the doorway like a granite statue, looking down at the two of them with a slight frown and her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Mr. Corner, is this the attitude you take to class?" she asked icily.
Professor McGonagall's voice was like a bucket of ice water poured over Michael's head. He stared blankly for a moment, then jolted, a cold sweat breaking out on his back as most of his drunkenness instantly vanished.
"P-professor!" Michael straightened up in a panic: "I... I just fed the Abraxans, and I accidentally..."
"Accidentally?" Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow: "Was it an 'accident' that you secretly drank the Abraxans' feed?"
Michael: "Uh..."
"Five points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Corner," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "And, as punishment for making the Abraxans go hungry, be at Professor Hagrid's at seven tonight to help prepare their feed. Any questions?"
"No, Professor," Michael said dejectedly.
Then, Professor McGonagall's gaze turned to Wade, her severe expression softening slightly.
"Gray, I'm glad you're still clear-headed. But I hope next time you see a classmate making such... ill-advised choices, you'll intervene promptly instead of just watching him make a mistake."
"I understand, I'm sorry, Professor." Wade bowed his head in a penitent manner.
Professor McGonagall nodded with satisfaction: "Go sober up! Don't be late for your afternoon classes."
Only after Professor McGonagall had left did Michael relax completely and say, "Good thing it was Professor McGonagall... if it had been Professor Snape, he would have taken points from you too."
Before he finished speaking, a chilling voice sounded from behind them:
"It seems Professor McGonagall's punishment isn't nearly enough of a deterrent, is it, Mr. Corner?"
Michael froze. His neck, as if rusted, slowly turned inch by inch. Halfway through, he saw the distinctive black Robes.
"Five points from Ravenclaw, for disrespecting a professor; another five points from Ravenclaw, for violating the rule against public drinking; and—"
Professor Snape spoke slowly, then sneered, "As you wish, Wade Gray witnessed an act of theft of school property but did not stop it. Ten points from Ravenclaw!"
After speaking, he didn't wait for them to argue, just snorted and strode towards the castle, his black Robes billowing, making him look like a bat spreading its wings.
Only the two of them were left standing dumbfounded in front of the Entrance Hall.
Michael belatedly jumped up: "That's not fair! How can he take points from you?"
"Don't yell, or Professor Snape might turn around and take more points from us," Wade advised. "That's just how he is. Haven't you gotten used to it yet?"
"But Professor Snape is ten times meaner than usual today." Michael looked at Wade guiltily and said, "He usually never targets you without reason... it's all my fault for dragging you into this."
"Actually, it's the opposite; Gray should be the one dragging you down."
Daphne walked up the steps from behind them, her voice gentle: "Because Slytherin doesn't have a Champion, and you, Gray, have both entered the second round of the competition..."
She stopped herself from saying more.
Michael thought for a moment: "...Jealousy?"
Daphne said subtly, "I guess that's the reason. As for what Professor Snape is specifically thinking, I wouldn't know."
As soon as Daphne arrived, she took over the responsibility of looking after Michael. Wade was happy to be free and turned to the Umbrella Room to do his homework.
...
In a pond more than two hundred miles from Hogwarts, a frog, struggling against the severe cold, was stiff with ice while desperately longing for a warm quilt, a fireplace burning Pine Wood, and thick walls to ward off the cold wind.
But ultimately, it couldn't resist the instinct of its body. It could only clumsily crawl through the wet mud, curling up in a small muddy burrow, listening to its heartbeat slow down, its body seemingly frozen solid.
Just as it was about to fall into a deep slumber, it felt as though it had returned to its warm home—
The fireplace flames danced, bathing the living room in a soft amber glow. Narcissa sat in an armchair, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her teacup, a faint smile playing on her lips as she looked ahead.
In her line of sight, a chubby-cheeked Draco zoomed around on a toy Broom, sticking close to the floor, periodically letting out loud shouts that then startled him with their own echo.
His Snake-headed Cane rested nearby; its familiar, cold touch provided an unusual sense of comfort.
All ambition, calculations, and fear dissolved in this warm illusion. The toad lay motionless in the mud as darkness gradually enveloped its consciousness.
A tear slid down its skin.
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