Chapter 40
Chapter 40
“Justin, do you know where Suer has gone?”
Hermione seized Justin Finch-Fletchley as he was about to pass the Gryffindor table.
Justin shook his head. “He seems rather busy lately. I don’t know where he is now either.”
“All right. Thank you.”
Hermione released him and puffed out her cheeks. Gryffindor had shared lessons with Ravenclaw all week, and she had not managed a proper conversation with Suer for several days.
…
“What charm did you say you wanted to learn?”
Inside the Charms professor’s office, Professor Filius Flitwick’s high voice was filled with disbelief.
“A charm that can knit scarves automatically,” Suer answered quietly from in front of the desk.
At an ordinary speed, knitting a single scarf entirely by hand would take at least a week. Suer needed no fewer than four scarves, which meant a full month of work.
Christmas would be long over by then.
And if he had enough unicorn hair left, he wanted to make gloves as well.
“I couldn’t find any books in the library describing this sort of household charm. The only person I could imagine teaching me was you–the wizarding world’s master of Charms.”
Suer offered Professor Flitwick a tasteful dose of flattery.
Professor Flitwick brightened at once and raised his chin.
“I do know a charm capable of accomplishing that.”
“Strictly speaking, household magic of this kind was developed from the domestic magic used by house-elves.”
By the time Suer left Professor Flitwick’s office, dusk was approaching. Dinner in the castle had probably nearly ended.
He rubbed his stomach.
Hmm.
His belly was full of knowledge. He did not feel hungry at all.
The great thinkers had been right. Knowledge was nourishment.
After descending the ever-changing staircases, Suer encountered Hagrid at the castle entrance, dragging an enormous fir tree.
“Do you need help, Hagrid?”
“Oh, no need, but thank you, Suer. I only have to put it in that little room beside the entrance. The house-elves will care for it until Christmas.”
Hagrid puffed and heaved the fir tree into a small chamber beside the entrance hall. Before disappearing inside, he seemed to remember something and looked back.
“A few days ago, I found some Puffskein fur in the Forbidden Forest. If you need it, you can come and collect some. Otherwise, I’ll throw it in the stove.”
“Puffskein fur?”
Suer, who had been about to return to his dormitory, stopped.
He pictured the magical creature: perfectly round and covered in pale yellow fur.
He remembered seeing Puffskeins in a Diagon Alley pet shop. He and Hermione had played with them for a while.
“Yes, please. Thank you, Mr. Hagrid.”
“Call me Hagrid, like Harry and the others.” Hagrid scratched his enormous head with one hand and smiled.
“Come on, then. We’ll go now.”
…
Hermione Granger had just left the Great Hall when she saw a young wizard drifting in through the castle entrance with a wooden basket.
Then she saw his face.
Well, if it wasn’t Young Master Suer–the boy she had neither seen nor spoken to in a week.
Suer, laden with his prize, failed to notice the small figure glaring at him resentfully from the entrance to the Hall.
He came inside, turned directly toward the stairs, and continued upward.
Hermione opened her mouth, then swallowed the call about to emerge. Her large eyes rolled, and she crept after him.
“Hmph. Acting so mysterious. Let’s see what you’ve been doing behind my back.”
Suer was entirely unaware of the little tail following him. Many students took walks after dinner, and occasionally sharing a route was nothing unusual.
The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor common rooms occupied two towers at the top of the castle. Their residents all had to climb toward the upper floors before turning toward their dormitories.
On the eighth floor, however, there would be no other students.
Who wandered idly around the corridor containing the headmaster’s office?
Hermione began moving with greater care when they reached the eighth floor. Her curiosity intensified.
Suer walked expertly to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and passed it three times, repeating silently,
I need a room where I can knit scarves.
When Hermione peered around a corner farther down the corridor, the door to the Room of Requirement had just vanished.
“Huh? Where did he go?” She blinked in confusion.
No one knew how long the Room of Requirement had existed. Its origins could be traced beyond the era of the Four Founders, and objects from every age could be found within.
A little-known fact: Hogwarts Castle was the site Salazar Slytherin contributed to the school. The castle had already stood atop the cliffs of the Scottish Highlands before Slytherin was born, witnessing a thousand years of wind and rain–or perhaps far more.
(Of course, the real-world castle used for Hogwarts has not existed that long.)
The room prepared for Suer was small but wonderfully cosy. A sofa and coffee table stood in the centre, surrounded by balls of yarn and knitting tools of every thickness.
Remarkably, the long needles were made of ivory.
Warm orange light filled the room, bright rather than dim.
“Aguamenti.”
Suer drew his wand and cast the spell on a wooden basin beside the sofa. After rinsing the extra unicorn hair Hagrid had pressed upon him, he used the Levitation Charm to lower it into another basin filled with purple liquid.
Puffskein fur was already extremely soft. It required no additional treatment, only washing and drying.
Hagrid’s understanding of “some” differed somewhat from that of ordinary people.
What he called some, Suer would describe as an enormous amount.
By the time Suer hung the washed Puffskein fur on a rack beside the fireplace, his stomach gave an appropriately loud growl.
“I need food,” he called toward the ceiling.
A steaming chicken pie appeared at once on the room’s only coffee table. The Room of Requirement thoughtfully supplied a cup of hot milk as well.
This was not the first time Suer had eaten inside the Room of Requirement.
After he feasted, the crumbs vanished automatically.
“Now, let’s try the Knitting Charm.”
Suer drew his wand and closed his eyes.
The key to the charm was holding a precise target in one’s mind while casting it.
If one wanted to knit a scarf, one had to picture that scarf. The amount of magic required rose in proportion to its complexity. The more elaborate the pattern and design, the greater the cost.
With the magical reserves of an eleven-year-old, Suer could make only a relatively simple scarf.
That was enough.
The requirement resembled Transfiguration, though Transfiguration demanded far greater precision.
Professor McGonagall considered Suer a promising student. Naturally, he cast the Knitting Charm without difficulty.
Needles and yarn floated lightly into the air and began crossing through one another on their own.
A satisfied smile appeared on Suer’s face.
He could already imagine the delight on his little angel’s face when she received the gift.
Magic truly was a blessing for the lazy and the hopelessly clumsy.