"Hey, Dylan, how are you feeling?"
After lunch, Neville was surprised to see Dylan in the dormitory on a Sunday—an unusual occurrence.
Dylan walked in, his hair in disarray, his expression dazed and wooden. He carried a thick stack of books in his arms, clearly just returning from the library.
"Hmm? What do you mean?"
Dylan hunched slightly, his shoulders slumped. His eyes were dull, his lips dry and cracked, his complexion pale.
Neville blinked. "I mean... you look terrible."
Seamus was also in the dormitory at the time. He nodded vigorously. Even Coal Ball, their pet, jumped off the bed, padded over like a cat, sat down obediently, and raised its little head.
"Moo?"
"I…"
Dylan placed his books on the table and rubbed his aching temples.
"Do I look that bad?"
Neville and Seamus both nodded quickly.
"Moo!" Coal Ball also nodded its small head.
Dylan gave a sheepish smile.
"This morning, I had a discussion about spells with Professor Flitwick. You know how knowledgeable he is. What he teaches in private lessons is completely different from what he covers in class."
Dylan sighed. "I strongly suspect that the knowledge he shared with me today goes beyond the seventh-year curriculum."
"This morning alone, he assigned me readings from three books I had never encountered before—plus two extremely obscure journals I had never even heard of."
Dylan gestured to the books on the table.
"To make sure I don't struggle next time, I borrowed all these books from the library."
He muttered nervously, "I feel like I know too little. Compared to the professors, my knowledge is painfully limited. I need to study more!"
"I still haven't fully explored the Ancient Runes Spell Deciphering book. Then there's The Mysteries of Non-Verbal Spells, Elemental Spells and Natural Forces, Dream Spell Analysis... I have to learn it all quickly!"
Neville and Seamus were stunned.
They exchanged glances, struggling to respond to Dylan's obsession.
Was the seventh-year curriculum not enough for him?
Even in seventh grade, he would no longer be a mere student wizard!
Was he trying to absorb the entire library's knowledge in just one year?
Merlin's nose!
He was only in his first year!
Did he really want to surpass the professors in knowledge?
Both swallowed hard.
They looked at Dylan, who seemed slightly deranged.
Neville took a deep breath. "Dylan, you've already worked so hard. You know far more than any other first-year student!"
Seamus nodded vigorously. "Right! Dylan, you work incredibly hard!"
Neville hesitated. "I think… why don't you take a break? You've been studying non-stop."
Seamus nodded again. "Yeah, it's been a long time!"
Neville: "..."
No? Why don't you help me persuade him instead of just agreeing?
Seamus blinked.
I'm just backing you up!
Dylan let out a deep sigh.
He knew his body was still growing.
No matter how strong his mind was, his spirit and physical body couldn't handle such intense study sessions.
But…
Rest?
The thought barely crossed his mind before Quirrell's face appeared in his memory.
"If I don't master the six major Dark Arts, there's no way I can defeat him with my current magical abilities."
And even if he did confront Quirrell, he wouldn't be fighting him one-on-one.
What if Quirrell just used Avada Kedavra mid-battle and took him by surprise?
Because…
That guy had two faces!
One in front, one in the back.
A sneak attack wouldn't work.
Plus, even though most wizards couldn't track his magic directly, Hogwarts was Hogwarts.
What if Dumbledore was lurking somewhere, secretly watching Quirrell?
If he saw Dylan attacking, wouldn't he get caught red-handed?
So, Dylan's plan was to build the strongest magical foundation possible.
At the very least, he needed to hold his own in battle without relying on Dark Magic.
That way, in an actual fight, he could mix in some high-level spells without making it obvious.
After all, if he disguised them well—altered their color, avoided giving off dark energy—even if others saw him casting, they wouldn't necessarily realize what he was doing.
"Rest? No way! As long as studying doesn't kill me, I'll study until I drop!"
Even if Quirrell wasn't a direct threat, Dylan had to be ready.
Even if he didn't want to get involved in the main story, what if he got dragged in anyway?
The more prepared he was, the better!
Dylan sat on the bench, picked up a book, and prepared to keep reading.
Seeing this, Neville pressed his lips together. Then he reached out, snatched the book from Dylan's hands, and held it to his chest.
"Hey, Dylan! I need your help with something!"
"Huh?" Dylan blinked.
Neville closed the book. "Um... do you remember the Flaming Thorn? The seedling Professor Sprout assigned me to take care of?"
"Yesterday, I ran out of the special nutrients it needs. I have to ask Hagrid for more, but… I'm kind of scared of him. Can you come with me?"
Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Isn't Seamus here? You two don't seem busy. Why don't you go together?"
Lately, Harry and Ron had been getting along better, which left Neville with fewer people to hang out with. He often wanted to spend time with Dylan, but Dylan was always studying.
After melting Seamus's cauldron in Potions class, Neville had surprisingly gotten along well with him.
Neville's face turned red.
Seamus immediately shook his head. "Ah, I promised to cheer for Harry. He's got a training match today. Ron and his brothers are going too!"
Dylan glanced at them suspiciously.
It was still early for the match. Wasn't that excuse a bit weak?
But he understood their intentions.
He sighed helplessly and smiled.
"Alright, fine. I'll take you to see Hagrid. And while we're at it, we'll have something tasty."
Neville hesitated. "Something tasty?"
Dylan grinned. "Hagrid's homemade rock cakes. They're delicious!"
(End of Chapter)
FOR MORE CHAPTERS
patreon.com/STEPHENHART427