Trends at Hogwarts shifted as quickly as the wind.
Within just a few days, the once obscure academic journal Magizoology Annual became wildly popular among the students.
Walking through the castle, you could spot someone holding a copy every few steps.
Everyone was reading it—especially Lewis's paper, On the Anatomical Analysis of the Chimera and the Formation Mechanism of Its Dark Magic.
Whether they understood it or not was another matter entirely.
Still, that didn't stop them from casually dropping complicated terms like "pericardiophrenic artery" or "isovolumetric magical contraction phase of the atrium" into conversations, as if doing so proved they truly grasped the content.
At lunchtime, at the Gryffindor table, Harry was eating with Ron and Hermione when he noticed Hermione had spread a copy of Magizoology Annual over an empty plate.
She had been reading it non-stop after finishing her meal, occasionally jotting down notes.
"Hermione, can you stop reading that thing already?" Ron said impatiently. "I seriously don't get what's so interesting about it."
"Of course you don't," Hermione shot back sharply. "Everyone's reading Magizoology Annual right now. If you actually read Lewis's paper, you'd realize just how shallow your understanding of magical creatures is."
"Even Mr. Scamander praised it highly. Especially the experimental methods—there are so many insightful approaches you'd never learn from textbooks."
"Aren't you always studying with Lewis?" Harry asked. "Did he hold back on you or something?"
"Lewis would never do that!"
Hermione frowned, immediately defending him.
"It's just that some of the theories are too advanced for me right now… There's a difference between being able to read something and truly understanding the theory behind it. I even participated in many of the experiments he described, but that doesn't mean I could write a paper like that myself."
"You helped with it?"
Ron said sourly, though it was unclear who he was jealous of.
"If it were me, I'd be praising that paper too."
Harry elbowed him.
"What? Did I say something wrong?" Ron protested.
"Of course you did!" Hermione snapped, glaring at him. "I recommended that paper purely on academic merit. Whether I was involved has nothing to do with it!"
She looked so severe that Ron felt like Professor McGonagall herself was staring at him.
"Mr. Weasley, if I were you, I'd focus on improving myself instead of making snide remarks!"
With a huff, she turned away and continued marking her journal.
Harry quickly tried to change the subject before things escalated again.
"What are you writing, Hermione?"
Ron leaned over as well—then blinked in surprise.
"Why did you draw a heart next to Lewis's name? I've seen Parvati Patil do that on Lockhart's timetable."
Caught off guard, Hermione slammed the magazine shut, her face turning bright red.
"That's none of your business!"
She stood up abruptly, gathering her things.
"I'm going to the library!"
She shot Ron a furious glare before storming off.
After she left, Harry sighed.
"Ron… you shouldn't have asked that. That was really dumb."
"I was just curious," Ron muttered. "Why is she so sensitive? Parvati's the same. Do you think all girls are like that?"
"You annoyed Parvati too?" Harry asked, exasperated.
"I just looked! Don't you think Hermione and the others are the weird ones? We're not like that. We get along just fine."
Harry didn't respond.
If this had been before—
He might have agreed.
But recently…
He had found himself wanting to draw a heart next to the name Cho Chang.
For the first time—
He understood.
Seeing Harry fall silent, Ron shrugged.
"Whatever. If she's mad, she's mad. It's not like she lets us copy her homework anyway."
Harry stared at him.
Do you even hear yourself?
Had he forgotten how they passed their exams in first year?
Shaking his head, Harry pulled out his own copy of Magizoology Annual.
"Wait—Harry, you too?" Ron said, betrayed. "You're reading that thing as well?!"
"I just realized I'm actually interested in magical creatures," Harry said casually.
Of course—
That wasn't the real reason.
That morning, he had seen Cho Chang holding a copy of the journal, asking Lewis for an autograph and chatting with him.
That was exactly the kind of attention Harry dreamed of.
If Cho liked the journal—
Then if he could understand it…
Maybe he'd have something to talk about with her.
So he had borrowed a copy from Fred and George.
But when he opened Lewis's paper—
He realized, awkwardly—
He couldn't understand a word.
In fact, most students—including Cho—faced the same problem.
The gap between them and Lewis was simply too great.
Only some upper-year students could truly appreciate the brilliance of the paper.
Like Ravenclaw prefect Penelope.
She had more than once slapped her thigh in frustration, lamenting Ciri's decisiveness.
"Why didn't I have the nerve you did?" she wailed dramatically, leaning against Ciri's shoulder. "If only I'd been shameless enough to go for a younger guy!"
She was promptly smacked for her trouble.
Since most students couldn't understand the journal anyway, the trend quickly faded.
Harry no longer had to worry about holding a conversation he wasn't prepared for—
And soon enough, he got a chance to meet Cho face-to-face.
The Quidditch season was approaching.
After last year, Ravenclaw had been fired up by Lewis and was determined to defend both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup.
Ciri, in particular, was deeply invested.
She urged Roger to secure training access to the Quidditch pitch as early as possible.
"Your idea really worked, Lewis!" Roger said excitedly on the way there, though with a hint of disbelief. "Just like you said—if you flatter Lockhart a bit, he'll happily sign anything, no questions asked. I still don't get why my mum is so obsessed with him."
Lewis nodded, satisfied.
Roger was known for having a big mouth.
Once this spread—
Plenty of students would go to Lockhart for signatures.
That meant—
More people would gain access to the Restricted Section.
And when Lewis used Lockhart's signature—
It would draw far less suspicion.
Thinking this through, he arrived at the Quidditch pitch.
But from a distance—
He noticed something strange.
There were already people there.
Two groups—
Facing off at the center of the field.
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