"Bang!"
Amid the howling wind, the window was forcefully shut. Neville let out a long breath, his legs nearly giving way as he almost fell.
The two of them waited a little longer, convinced that Vid had probably returned to the dormitory, and then, like two startled goblins, they sneaked out from their hiding place and silently ran towards Gryffindor Tower.
Harry's mind was still replaying the image of Vid talking to Madam Pomfrey—
Unlike when he was with them, the gentle, quiet boy who occasionally laughed, Vid just now looked like a deep pool, with even the surrounding air seeming to grow thicker.
He stood straight with a slight frown, and when he spoke of being able to get the magic potion, his confident tone, as if nothing could faze him, even reminded Harry of Dumbledore.
This unfamiliar feeling gave Harry a subtle tremor in his heart, even bringing a sense of distance—as if his friend had already matured into an adult, and he could only watch his back, unable to shoulder it with him anymore.
While Harry was deep in thought, Neville, for some reason, didn't speak either. The torchlight on the stone walls flickered with its unending glow, slightly bouncing with their "thud, thud" footsteps.
It wasn't until they stood before the Fat Lady's portrait that Harry spoke the password, watching the entrance open, seemingly bringing Neville back to his senses.
He couldn't help but tug on Harry's sleeve, lowering his voice as he asked the question that had been spiraling in his mind:
"Harry, do you think... that baby... could it be Vid's?"
Harry gave a jolt upon hearing this, and in his rush to dive into the doorway, he suddenly twisted, his forehead thundering into the hard stone wall edge.
"Ouch!"
Harry cried out in pain, his eyes wide with astonishment, as he turned to Neville and said, "Neville! What... what are you thinking?!"
Neville blinked blankly. "No... isn't it? I thought that must be it! It would explain Vid's odd behavior lately..."
—So you think Vid has been busy before because some mysterious girlfriend was pregnant, and now that the baby is born, he has time to attend classes and events, is that it?
Harry thought powerlessly and waved his hand, saying, "That's not it at all. Didn't you hear what they were saying earlier?"
"No." Neville answered honestly, then curiously asked, "What did they say?"
"You two! Are you getting in or not!" Before Harry could answer, the Fat Lady scolded impatiently, "If you're planning to chat, go somewhere else. Don't keep me on guard!"
She crossed her arms, tapping the ground in the portrait with her toes, looking very much like she wanted to grab both of them by the collar and throw them inside.
Harry and Neville shrank their necks and hurried through the entrance.
Seeing the common room empty, Harry finally lowered his voice and said, "I heard a word—'turn into a baby.'
Neville: "—Turn into?"
"Exactly!" Harry confirmed with a nod, "So the child we saw, he should be like me six months ago, hit by magic, with his body reverted to a youthful state!"
Only then did Neville understand, embarrassed, he said, "So that's what it is... I was thinking if Vid really had a child, it might cause trouble..."
His voice trailed off, slowly realizing the unusualness of the matter.
"He turned into a baby..." Neville swallowed, tremulously asking, "Is it the Shrinking Potion... or Time Magic?"
"I guess it's Time Magic," Harry said solemnly, "because I also heard them say 'chaotic time.'
"Is that true?!" Neville shuddered, horrified, "We've never heard of such things happening before! Why now... does this terrifying magic seem to have become commonplace too?"
"Yeah." Harry murmured, "Why?"
He rubbed his forehead, having the nagging feeling that he'd heard before... heard about someone being turned into a baby by Time Magic, and someone killed because of it... where had he heard that?
...
In the warm dormitory, Ron was in his pajamas, absent-mindedly playing Wizard's Chess with Dean Thomas.
Upon hearing the door open, he immediately turned, his gaze flickering over Harry and Neville—
Harry was frowning deeply, burdened with thoughts; Neville's face looked bad too, with a hint of fear for some reason.
Ron's heart sank abruptly, disappointment like a cold tide, instantly drowning the cautious hope he had just held.
Immediately after came the familiar frustration—
[Of course not! They definitely think I don't meet their standards; Hermione probably listed all my flaws, Michael shook his head saying no, Fred and George will have something to mock me about tomorrow, and this joke might even get to Slytherin...]
Imagining Malfoy and his gang making a point at breakfast in the Great Hall to announce to everyone:
"Look who it is... Ron Weasley who just can't measure up! Should I commend your bravery or your complete lack of self-awareness?"
With a "whoosh," anger flared up from his chest, burning his cheeks hot.
"Your move, Ron!" urged Dean.
Ron glanced randomly at the board, with no mind for strategy, absentmindedly nudging his knight.
"Oh dear, your playing is terribly lousy!" The knight shouted, brandishing its sword, "Charge! I'm going to charge straight ahead!"
"Come on, you irritable fellow," Dean muttered, taking Rons's knight.
Ron's queen began shouting at her owner, "Surrender! Really! Otherwise, I'm going to end myself in shame!"
Ron suddenly swept his hand, scattering the pieces with a "clatter," saying angrily, "Not playing anymore, it's no fun!"
Dean wasn't offended. He shrugged, collecting the pieces as he said, "Alright, if you don't want to continue... but really, Ron, your game tonight is all over the place."
Ron stood by the table, stiff for a few seconds, wanting to apologize for his attitude but unsure what to say.
...
It was late at night, the dormitory silent.
Ron lay with his eyes open, staring at the canopy above.
Dean and Seamus had long since settled into steady breathing, and Neville even snored softly.
Only Harry was still tossing in bed, the wooden bed occasionally emitting slight creaks.
Ron remained motionless, pretending to be asleep, pretending he didn't care...
But those intermittent sounds reminded him that he wasn't the only one feeling down about it.