14 Chapter 14

The following day, Mike awoke to a room bathed in sunlight. The rays filtered through the window, casting a brilliant glow on his blond hair, making it shimmer with a dazzling light.

Outside, shadows flitted by occasionally—owls returning from their nocturnal deliveries. After a night's long journey, these diligent messengers were eager for rest and sustenance at the Owlery on the west side of the Ravenclaw Tower.

As the rhythmic knocking on the door echoed, Mike squinted and sat up in bed, scratching his head. He realized his usually short hair had grown longer, no longer feeling as comfortable as before. Adjusting to the bright sunlight, Mike wasn't hurrying to answer the door.

He took a sip of water from the glass on his bedside table, water that he hadn't finished the night before, and started to straighten out his clothes. Due to last night's failed meditation, he had fallen asleep without changing, leaving his clothes wrinkled from being slept in.

After Mike finished sprucing up, he opened the door to encounter an impressively tall presence. Franklin-Clinton, the individual before him, was notably taller than Mike, who was already recognized for his stature among his classmates. Franklin was a recent addition to their shared house at Ravenclaw, marking the beginning of their acquaintance.

"Hey, Mike, good morning," Franklin greeted, showing no sign of impatience from waiting outside, "Looks like you're ready. Let's go, we've got Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning, and we're already late."

"Oh, right, Franklin," Mike replied, surprised that Franklin, whom he'd only exchanged a few words with, had come to wake him up, even at the risk of being late himself, "Sorry, a lot happened yesterday, and I overslept a bit."

"No worries, we're friends, right? It's what friends do for each other," Franklin said, flashing his bright, reflective smile. "But we need to hurry; we're already late."

Mike wasn't too concerned, saying, "Don't worry, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is Quirrell, the stammering clown. He's a Ravenclaw alum; he won't give us a hard time."

"That's a relief," Franklin exhaled, slowing his pace, "But what do you mean by 'clown'?"

"You'll see," Mike said, licking his teeth and smiling enigmatically, "Actually, I'm surprised Quirrell graduated from Ravenclaw. His current state is quite an embarrassment to our house."

Chatting and laughing, they even stopped by the dining hall for breakfast.

During their walk, Mike shared many of Hogwart's details with Franklin, from the inter-house rivalries to various strange occurrences.

As they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they found Professor Quirrell at the podium, book in hand, stammering through his lecture. Despite their drowsiness, the young wizards in the audience seemed to be paying close attention. Noticing their late arrival, Quirrell set his book aside, about to address them, but Mike quickly intervened.

"Apologies, Professor Quirrell," Mike said, concealing the breakfast he had brought within his robes. "Hogwarts is so big, we got lost on the way to the classroom.."

"Very well, Mike, and... and this young man, please... do come in," Quirrell replied with a stutter upon hearing Mike's explanation.

The class was a joint session between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, with the room divided into yellow and blue sections. Everyone naturally sat with their housemates, maintaining an unspoken agreement to stick together.

In this corner, a diminutive Hufflepuff boy was seated, appearing somewhat shy. Upon noticing the towering presence of Mike and Franklin from Ravenclaw, he quickly stood up, offered a respectful nod, and darted off to an unoccupied seat ahead.

Mike, unfazed by the interaction, took his seat with ease. After a moment's hesitation and seeing Mike's nonchalant demeanor, Franklin settled beside him.

Their attire, marked by blue, contrasted sharply against the surrounding sea of yellow. Although Mike picked a relatively hidden corner, it still stood out prominently from the view at the podium.

But that didn't concern Mike. He chose this spot merely as a gesture to give Professor Quirrell some respect. Given Quirrell's current timid state, as long as they didn't overly provoke him, he wouldn't pay them any mind.

Mike pulled out two slices of bread and a sausage wrapped in greaseproof paper from his robe, making a simple hot dog.

Franklin, not as bold as Mike, felt a bit nervous sitting among a group of Hufflepuffs.

But seeing Mike enjoy his makeshift meal, Franklin decided to make one for himself and started eating.

"I admire you, Mike," Franklin said after a few bites, "You manage to get along so well with both the professors and the students. Like just now, Professor Quirrell called you by name but referred to me simply as 'the new student.'"

Mike quickly finished his hot dog; feeling thirsty, he picked up a water bottle left behind by the Hufflepuff boy and took a big gulp.

To his surprise, it wasn't water but a sweet, quite tasty beverage.

"What's important is that I remember your name, Franklin. You've caught my attention some time ago. You're not just physically strong but also intellectually sharp, a man who speaks little but deeply values friendship," Mike remarked, placing the bottle aside. "Don't be too critical of yourself. You're among friends here, especially with me, Mike Tully. You stand equal to everyone else, and to be frank, your talent in magic is nothing short of remarkable!"

Franklin's dark face turned a shade redder with excitement, receiving such praise for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts.

Mike, observing Franklin's overwhelmed reaction, couldn't help but feel speechless. Was the kid this starved for affection? His casual praise had unexpectedly touched Franklin deeply.

Professor Quirrell continued his monotonous lecture, occasionally casting glances toward the splash of blue among the yellow.

Franklin, meanwhile, opened up to Mike about everything – from his troubled family life to the odd looks he received at Hogwarts due to his physique.

Mike responded to him every now and then and unknowingly drank up all the drink in his flask.

To be fair, this drink was really good. After class, he would ask that guy what kind of drink it was.

Finally, when the class bell rang, Franklin finally closed his mouth.

But he still looked at Mike with fervent eyes, making Mike feel a bit uneasy. He quickened his pace and walked out of the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom, with Franklin closely following his steps.