As Rock and the others stepped out of the Ravenclaw common room, they found the corridors buzzing with whispering students.
Even the fifth and seventh-year students, usually buried in their study schedules, had paused to gossip about last night's events.
When they reached the Great Hall, Theo—who had been mingling and gathering intel—slipped back into their group. "They aren't just talking about the forest," he muttered. "Word is, three Gryffindors got caught trying to sneak out of the castle last night."
"Whoa. Who has that kind of a death wish?" Michael asked, eyebrows raised.
Terry paused mid-spread, his toast heavily laden with peanut butter, and looked completely confused. "Is that really out of character for a Gryffindor?"
Fair point.
The rest of them exchanged looks, unable to argue with his logic, before immediately diving into speculation about who the three culprits could be.
Rock glanced over at the Gryffindor table. The only familiar face he spotted was Neville. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were noticeably absent.
Sitting alone, Neville caught Rock's eye. Seeing Rock wave him over, Neville quickly grabbed his things and hurried across the hall.
"Rock! I was just planning to head to the study room to find you guys," Neville said, dropping into the seat next to him. He scratched his head, looking around the group. "Did you all just get here?"
Adam poured Neville a cup of water. "Rock actually slept in for once. That's why we're running late."
Neville looked concerned. "Are you alright? Feeling sick?" He knew Rock possessed military-grade punctuality.
"I'm fine, really," Rock said, waving off the concern. "Where are Hermione and the others, though?"
At the question, Neville glanced nervously over his shoulder before leaning in, lowering his voice. "Last night, Hermione, Harry, and Ron snuck out of the common room. Professor Snape caught them."
"What?!" Theo and the others gasped. They had been eager for the gossip, but they hadn't expected the punchline to be their own friends.
"Well, they don't have to hide in shame," Rock reasoned, assuming the trio was just too embarrassed to show their faces at breakfast.
"It's not that," Neville said, taking a sip of his water. "I don't know where Hermione is, but Harry and Ron disappeared first thing this morning."
Rock nodded. They were probably down at Hagrid's hut.
After finishing their breakfast, the group headed straight for the study room. They found the door already ajar.
Hermione and Padma were already inside, deep in conversation. Theo smirked as he walked in. "Looks like the ladies decided to ditch us today."
"How was I supposed to know you guys were going to sleep in?" Padma retorted, then turned her attention. "Rock, are you okay after last night?"
"I'm fine. Let's get started."
Rock shook his head dismissively and steered the conversation toward their weekly review session, focusing on the material they'd covered over the past few days.
They pulled out their notes. The routine was simple: someone raised a question they didn't understand, the group debated it to reach a conclusion, and anyone still confused took notes for further research.
"How exactly do you tell the difference between a Venomous Tentacula and a Chomping Cabbage?" Terry asked.
"You just need to look at the serration on the leaves and the shade of green," Neville piped up, recalling a conversation he'd had while helping Professor Sprout in the greenhouses. "A Chomping Cabbage has sharp, jagged edges on its leaves. It looks a lot like a steak knife."
"Wait, we haven't actually covered that in class yet, have we?" Neville realized after answering; it definitely wasn't on the first-year syllabus.
Terry scratched his head. "A second-year I know brought it up. He said he got tagged by a Venomous Tentacula the other day."
"Is he the one who got rushed to the Hospital Wing in the middle of class?" Neville asked, remembering the incident.
"Exactly," Terry nodded enthusiastically. "Michael and I went to visit him. Watching him choke down Madam Pomfrey's potions looked like absolute torture."
Michael shuddered in agreement. "Yeah. I'll never understand why all her medicines have to be so horrific."
"It can't be helped. A sting from a Venomous Tentacula causes severe swelling and numbness. You have to take a specific antidote," Neville explained, passing on what Professor Sprout had taught him.
"We didn't actually ask him how he got hurt when we visited," Michael said, looking enlightened. "So that's what happened."
"Hold on. Neville, did Professor Sprout specifically ask you to stay behind and help her?" Adam zeroed in on the detail, staring at Neville in amazement.
Neville's ears turned bright red. He nodded shyly. "Professor Sprout said I have a real talent for Herbology. She told me to drop by whenever I have free time."
The group immediately shifted focus to Neville's newfound apprenticeship. That was the beauty of their study room—while they worked hard, they always found time for banter to blow off steam.
"Rock, do you have a minute?" Hermione whispered, sliding her chair closer while everyone else was focused on Neville.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"I need to ask you something," she said, keeping her voice low.
Rock raised an eyebrow, nodding as he shifted his chair to give them a bit of privacy.
"Did you go into the Forbidden Forest last night?" Hermione asked. She checked to make sure the others were distracted before speaking, her voice barely a breath.
Rock shook his head without missing a beat. "No. I was just hanging out at Hagrid's hut. I happened to be there when things went south in the forest, so I couldn't head back to the castle right away."
This was the cover story he and Hagrid had agreed upon. He didn't actually expect Hagrid to keep it a total secret, but standardizing the lie would at least prevent panic from tearing through the school.
A unicorn's voluntary gift was no small matter. To a castle full of bored students desperate for gossip, it would be nuclear.
Hermione eyed him suspiciously; she clearly wasn't buying it. But she didn't push. She had a more pressing agenda: she wanted Rock's objective read on Snape.
"Well... what's your read on Professor Snape as a person?" she asked tentatively. The Golden Trio's suspicions were still too risky to share openly.
"Professor Snape?" Rock rubbed his jaw. "Top-tier Potions Master. It's just a shame he has to use his mouth to speak."
"Huh?" Even Hermione was caught completely off guard by the blunt assessment.
"No, I mean—you go to his office for detentions all the time. Have you noticed anything... weird about him?" she clarified, realizing her question had been too vague.
"No," Rock shook his head. "Hermione, you have to trust that while Hogwarts professors might not always be the friendliest, it's absolutely impossible for them to be—"
He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly doubting his own logic. First year brought Quirrell. Second year would bring Lockhart. Fourth year would bring a literal Death Eater.
Actually, did Dumbledore do any background checks at all?
"The troll," Hermione pressed on. "Ever since the night the troll broke in, Professor Snape has been limping. And during Harry's first Quidditch match, I saw it with my own eyes—Snape was up in the stands, constantly muttering a jinx under his breath."