After the event, on the way back from the Umbrella House to Gryffindor Tower, Harry almost jumped up with excitement.
He clenched his fist tightly and turned to the person next to him, saying:
"Great, unanimously approved!"
Harry's mouth stretched wide in a grin: "Ron will definitely be thrilled! I knew he could do it!"
Neville's face also beamed with genuine joy, nodding vigorously as he said, "Yeah, no one opposed, it's really great!"
"Joining the SSC is just the beginning; to truly become reliable, there's much more to be done! Starting with not cutting corners on assignments!"
Hermione was also very happy, but facing this result, she couldn't help but be anxious: "Can Ron stick with it? Ugh, when he writes essays, he doesn't even bother to add punctuation."
"Don't worry." Harry was also somewhat anxious, but he tried to stay optimistic: "You know, once Ron makes up his mind, he's more stubborn than anyone!"
"I hope so."
Hermione checked the time and waved at the two at the crossroads, saying: "I still need to patrol a few corridors to make sure no students are wandering outside after curfew — Filch is worried that more students will get into fights or date during this time!"
Harry and Neville stood side by side waving goodbye, watching Hermione hurry away, her heavy cloak almost flying like Professor Snape's, lifted by the wind.
"Merlin, being a prefect!" Neville couldn't help but lament: "I used to think it was a good gig!"
"I thought the same... after all, Percy used to be so proud!" Harry murmured.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be forced to be so busy in addition to taking classes, doing assignments, participating in SSC activities, practicing Quidditch, and learning spells from Sirius on weekends, plus doing prefect duties.
— it'd be exhausting, for sure.
"Hermione is too diligent, too responsible." As they turned to head back, Neville said objectively: "She always wants to do everything perfectly; from what I see, Ron... and other prefects, they're not as busy as Hermione."
For example, when tasked by Filch, other prefects would agree in person, but once out of the castle administrator's sight, they randomly wandered around before doing their own thing.
But Hermione would diligently patrol every corridor she was responsible for, genuinely believing those tasks are necessary.
Neville thought he would soon hear Harry's complaints but did not hear any response.
He turned his head and saw Harry standing by a tall arched window, squinting outside.
"What's up?" Neville asked curiously, shifting his gaze to the dark night outside and the lights shining from other towers.
"Look over there..." Harry pointed to the opposite tower, saying: "Isn't that Vid?"
Neville looked over, only to see the corridor's row of windows clearly displaying a passing figure —
Black hair, tall and lean, walking steadily. Even without seeing the face, they confirmed it was Vid, whom they had parted with not long ago.
"It's him... but that leads in the opposite direction from Ravenclaw tower! The Medical Wing is ahead..."
Neville spoke, his face turning slightly pale: "Could Vid be injured? He didn't want us to worry, so he didn't tell us?"
The two exchanged glances, instantly reaching a consensus.
"Let's go and check!" Harry said decisively.
Curfew was approaching, so the two Gryffindors didn't stop to think much and rushed towards that direction.
Tonight, Hogwarts' shifting staircases didn't give them any trouble, but Neville still accidentally stepped on a sinking stair, almost spraining his ankle.
When they breathlessly reached the wooden door from which light spilled, they both bent over, resting hands on their knees and panting heavily.
Faint voices could be heard from inside, somewhat like Madam Pomfrey's, but the words were unclear.
Once their breathing calmed, Harry reached out to push the door, about to enter when suddenly a faint sound was heard:
"Waa... waa..."
The cry of a baby drifted out through the door crack.
Harry and Neville both froze, looking at each other in shock, unsure whether they should enter or not.
— How could there be a baby at Hogwarts?
A strong curiosity urged them to move quietly, pressing close to the door, eyes near the narrow door crack.
This wasn't the usual large sick ward the students stayed in; it was smaller than their dorm, and against the wall was a carefully arranged baby crib. Above the crib railing, indeed, two tiny hands were waving, with the crying coming from there.
Vid, whom they imagined was treating wounds, stood beside the cradle, slightly lowering his head to look at the baby. His side profile was particularly calm, even with a level of gravity that instinctively held one's breath.
Madam Pomfrey leaned to gently hold the baby's little hand, her other hand's magic wand emitted a soft light, enveloping the figure in the cradle.
The cry quickly stopped, and the child let out coos, as if pouting.
Fragments of conversation floated from inside—
"...starting from the left arm; so far, it's going smoothly... he will certainly feel uncomfortable, but from a healer's perspective, him feeling pain is far better than having no sensation..."
"Will he remember it?" Vid asked softly: "— this experience of turning into a baby?"
Madam Pomfrey retracted her wand and pondered: "Hard to say, dear... memories are strange and unreliable, especially involving chaotic time... maybe he'll consider it all just a dream?"
"Do I need to do anything?" Vid asked: "If you're lacking any rare materials or magic potions here, I can find a way to get them."
"All I need you to do now, is to get some rest. Remember, you're part of the healing process, an important reference for me, so maintain good condition..."
While talking, they moved towards the door; Harry was startled and, like a thief, hurriedly pulled Neville to hide behind a nearby statue, clinging to the cold stone wall, not daring to breathe.
Harry didn't know why he felt the need to hide, but had a feeling... that baby matter, Vid probably didn't want too many people at school to know, and now wasn't a good time to appear and inquire.
He listened to his heart beating wildly in his chest, as well as the rhythmic footsteps growing ever closer...
"Whew—"
A rush of warm air surged from the sick ward, quickly exchanging with the cold air in the corridor.
The door opened.
...
Vid bid farewell to Madam Pomfrey, reaching out to pull the door, paused his actions suddenly, his brow furrowing.
He secretly gripped his magic wand, face calm as he stepped out of the sick ward, turning to close the door, then scanned the surroundings—
From the shadows behind the knight statue, half a head with messy black hair peeked; besides the sword's side, a familiar shoe was awkwardly tiptoeing, like some chubby kid learning ballet.
The stern expression disappeared from Vid's eyes; he chuckled softly, not exposing the two who were trying hard to hide. Waving his wand gently, a window "bam" opened, cold wind and snowflakes flew in.
"Whoosh—"
A sound of breaking through the air echoed as an old broomstick swiftly flew through the window, gracefully stopping and spinning before hovering steadily beside Vid.