Hermione, realizing that her vague approach was only making Rock's responses weirder, fired off her words like a machine gun in an attempt to clarify.
As soon as she finished, she found Rock staring fixedly at her.
"Er—"
Hermione looked sheepish, scrambling for a way to explain herself.
"Actually, Hermione, sometimes the best way to observe something is as an outsider, or by completely discarding your preconceived notions about it first," Rock said, his tone heavy with implication.
"Discard my preconceived notions..."
"Rock, I've been meaning to ask you this since before the Christmas holidays." Hermione met his gaze head-on. "Do you know something? Or rather, do you know what Harry, Ron, and I have been doing lately?"
"No idea." Rock shook his head. There was absolutely zero chance he was admitting to that.
Hermione continued to stare at him intently. To Rock, however, her glare was far less intimidating than the look his Bowtruckle gave him back at the manor.
At least when the little guy glared at him like that, it meant he'd genuinely forgotten to feed it.
Realizing she wasn't going to get anything out of him, Hermione gave up and joined the study group, which had already moved on to a new topic.
Rock, meanwhile, retreated into his own thoughts, contemplating how to allocate his potions ingredients.
The unicorn tears were far too precious. He couldn't afford to waste them unless it was an absolute emergency.
Alternatively... maybe he could ask Snape for advice?
The fallout from the Forbidden Forest incident seemed to have quietly blown over, but based on the intel Rock had received, that was far from the truth.
Theseus had sent a letter mentioning that the Ministry of Magic was aware of the incident and was currently negotiating with Dumbledore for permission to send investigators into the forest.
Knowing the current Minister for Magic's typical behavior, however, it was highly likely he had a different ulterior motive.
Hogwarts.
As the cradle of wizardkind, Cornelius Fudge had long been eyeing the school.
However, he faced resistance from all sides: the Board of Governors wouldn't allow Ministry interference, and Dumbledore certainly wouldn't permit it.
It was safe to say that Hogwarts was a very appealing prize, at least in the eyes of certain Ministry politicians.
But more than anything, Fudge was cautious. Everyone knew he had only secured the position of Minister because Dumbledore had turned it down.
At the end of the letter, Theseus had issued a stern warning, telling Rock not to put himself in danger.
Rock could only reply with repeated assurances that he wouldn't.
Meanwhile, the biggest news within the castle itself was that Quirrell had fallen ill, and Snape had temporarily taken over teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.
This led to widespread groaning among the students. Potions with Snape was already miserable enough; now they had to endure him for Defense Against the Dark Arts, too.
Rock, on the other hand, felt he was finally getting a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts education.
At the very least, Snape's lectures provided him with a wealth of valuable insights.
As for Quirrell, Rock had learned from the house-elves that the man hadn't been seen in the school since the night of the incident in the Forbidden Forest.
The elves noted that Quirrell had barely ordered any meals.
Even when food was left outside his door, it remained untouched, as house-elves were not permitted to enter a professor's office.
Rock felt a twinge of unease. Although the forest had been pitch black that night, he couldn't be entirely certain Quirrell hadn't spotted him. As a precaution, he canceled all his late-night excursions, save for his mandatory detentions.
Where exactly is he hiding in the school? Or did he actually manage to escape?
---
The day of the third Quidditch match of the season arrived.
Wanting to avoid a repeat of the last match's chaos, Rock opted to head to the pitch with Theo and the others.
Halfway there, however, Fred and George snagged him, pulling him aside into a quiet alcove.
"So, our esteemed investor," Fred asked with a cheeky grin. "How did the Dragon's Breath Flashbang perform?"
Beside him, George raised an eyebrow, clearly just as eager to hear the results.
Rock smiled. "It was brilliant... honestly, it saved me a lot of trouble."
"Merlin's beard!" Fred gasped, throwing an arm around Rock's shoulders and lowering his voice. "I didn't actually believe it at first."
"But that roar from the Forbidden Forest the other night sounded awfully familiar," George added, stepping up to Rock's other side. "Seriously, mate, you've got some nerve."
Nerve?
Rock rubbed his forehead. compared to these two, he was... well, maybe just about on their level.
"Don't worry, we won't ask for the details," Fred said, patting Rock's shoulder. "We just want to know how it worked and what we need to tweak."
"Cut back on the sulfur a bit; the smell is too harsh. And if you're planning to sell these as joke items, I'd suggest turning the volume on the Sonorus Charm way down, or just taking it off completely," Rock advised, rubbing his chin.
"No way! Fred and I had to beg Charlie for ages to get that dragon roar recording," George immediately rejected the idea. The incredibly realistic roar was the flashbang's best feature.
"Your first point is solid, though. We can lower the volume of the roar. It'll be the grand opening centerpiece for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!" Fred nodded in agreement.
"Perfect!"
Fred and George exchanged a grin and high-fived.
"We gotta run. George and I have some ideas regarding that suggestion you made a while back. Drop by the secret base when you have some time."
With a quick wave, Fred and George hurried off toward the pitch.
Today's match was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. The fact that Oliver Wood had let them slip away right before the game was a massive concession on his part.
"See you later. I'll drop by when I can."
Rock waved back, then turned and headed for the stands.
As he walked, his footsteps slowed until he came to a complete halt.
A sudden realization had struck him. His great-aunt Queenie was a natural Legilimens, an ability that relied entirely on eye contact.
And before her, there had been another wizard in the magical world known for his extraordinary eyes.
Grindelwald. A natural Seer, whose eyes seemingly possessed the power to witness visions of the future.
"Maybe... I should write to Aunt Queenie..."
Rock murmured to himself. As for Grindelwald—the infamous Dark Lord—the only person who likely knew anything detailed about him was Headmaster Dumbledore.
Yeah, that's a bit of a stretch.
Rock shook his head. He couldn't exactly march up to Dumbledore and ask, Hey, mind telling me about Grindelwald?
He would have to rely on books and historical texts first, and perhaps glean some information from his grandparents.
Pushing the thought aside, Rock jogged the rest of the way to the stands. He had a direction now; the execution could wait.
Right now, his biggest problem was Quirrell. The man was MIA and could pop out at any second to hit him with an Avada Kedavra.
To minimize the risk of losing track of time alone in the Room of Requirement and wandering the halls late at night, Rock had already moved his potion-brewing setup down to Hagrid's hut.