Chapter 24: Russell's Morning
The staircases of Hogwarts were truly one of the school's great enigmas — and torments.
Known collectively as the Grand Staircases, they shifted in number, direction, and even destination depending on time and whim.
To survive here, every student had to memorize their movements at different hours of the day — otherwise, getting lost was inevitable.
It was one of Hogwarts' many "charms" — in every sense of the word.
Russell spent nearly half an hour mapping their pattern, carefully noting which ones twisted and which ones betrayed him halfway through.
By the time he finally stepped outside the castle, dawn was just beginning to stretch across the horizon, the sky painted with pale streaks of silver-blue.
He crossed the dew-soaked grass until he reached the Black Lake, its dark surface glimmering faintly in the morning light.
Taking a deep breath, he began his daily run.
As he jogged, he took a bite of the Cornish Pixie jerky he'd brought along — neatly biting off the tiny head.
A faint tingle of energy spread through his body.
Stamina buff, activated.
He quickly wrapped the rest in oiled paper and tucked it away with exaggerated care.
Can't afford to waste these like before, he reminded himself. Gotta ration my power-ups.
The lakefront was empty — unsurprising given how early it was.
The solitude suited him perfectly. The quiet, the faint chill, the rhythmic sound of his breathing — it was a rare moment of peace.
Running experience +3
Running experience +3
Running experience +3
He hadn't even finished his first lap when he spotted a silhouette in the distance — someone else heading toward the lake.
Russell raised an eyebrow.
A fellow early bird? A kindred spirit? Didn't think Hogwarts had other tryhards this early in the term.
Curious, he picked up his pace to meet the other runner — but when the figure came into focus, his expression twisted into something between surprise and disbelief.
"Cedric?!" he blurted.
The tall boy turned, grinning under the dim morning light.
"Why, can't it be me?" Cedric Diggory replied with mock offense. "You think us Hufflepuffs can't be hardworking too?"
Russell blinked, realizing how his words might've sounded. "No, no, that's not what I meant—"
Cedric laughed, clapping him heartily on the back. "Relax, mate! I'm just joking."
The impact nearly made Russell stumble, but he couldn't help but grin back.
Even this early, Cedric Diggory already radiated that easy confidence — the kind of charm that made him the golden boy of Hufflepuff House.
Of course it's him, Russell thought. Who else would be up running at dawn just to make the rest of us look lazy?
That single shared laugh broke the last bit of formality between them.
Cedric grinned, his easygoing charm shining through.
"But you, Russell… I don't think I've ever met a first-year who gets up this early. You haven't even started proper spellwork yet, right? So you're doing morning runs for… physical training?"
"Of course," Russell replied with mock seriousness. "Haven't you ever heard of the legendary wizard Gandalf? Sword in one hand, staff in the other — even a Balrog had to bow before him."
Cedric blinked. "Gandalf? That… doesn't sound like a real wizard. Sounds like one of those Muggle fairy tales to me."
"How could it be?" Russell countered smoothly. "Think about it — in a wizard duel, you can't always rely on magic alone. If a spell fails or you're disarmed, physical reflexes could save your life. Dodge first, cast later — that's how you win."
Cedric tilted his head, considering that. "You've got a point," he admitted, though his faith in magic still outweighed Russell's talk of fitness. After a pause, he brightened. "Then how about you help me practice a few spells? You could get some casting experience that way."
Russell raised an eyebrow. "I'd love to, but… I only know Wingardium Leviosa, Chiroptera Mucus, and Scourgify. Hardly enough to duel with."
Cedric's face lit up. "That's more than enough to start!"
Russell chuckled. "Alright then, what are we practicing?"
"Expelliarmus!" Cedric declared proudly, brandishing his wand like a knight with a sword.
"Hold on," Russell protested. "That's not fair. You get to practice the cool disarming spell, and what am I supposed to do — stand here and get hit?"
Cedric paused, realizing he might have overlooked something. "Fair point. What do you suggest?"
Russell's lips curled into a sly grin. "Simple. You teach me the spell, and then we both practice. You know — like a real duel."
Cedric laughed. "That's actually a great idea."
And so the lesson began.
"The pronunciation," Cedric explained, "is eks-PEL-ee-AR-mus. Emphasis on the third syllable — not 'Ex-pe-lee-ar-mus.' Don't stretch the second one too much."
"Got it," Russell nodded.
"Good. Now, watch the wrist motion…" Cedric demonstrated with precision, his wand slicing through the air in a short, sharp arc.
The older boy's teaching was patient and detailed, and Russell absorbed every word. Still, the Disarming Charm was a second-year spell, and it took him nearly thirty minutes of focused effort just to make his wand tip flicker with a faint red spark.
"That's amazing!" Cedric said, genuinely impressed. "Most second-years can't get that far in their first session."
Russell smiled, panting slightly. "Thanks, Cedric. Really. Without your help, I'd still be trying to figure out how to aim the wand properly."
"Don't mention it," Cedric shrugged. "We're all here to help each other."
Then, as if remembering something, his eyes brightened. "Hey — come on. There's something I want to show you."
---
They slipped through the corridors, down a spiraling stairwell, until they stopped before a painting of a pear.
Russell raised an eyebrow. "A fruit?"
"Watch," Cedric said mysteriously.
He reached up and gently tickled the bottom of the pear. The fruit giggled — actually giggled — and transformed into a green door handle. With a soft creak, the painting swung inward, revealing a hidden passage.
Inside was a vast, high-ceilinged hall — the Hogwarts Kitchens.
Rows of shining copper pots and cauldrons lined the stone walls. A massive brick fireplace dominated the far end, crackling warmly. In the center stood four long tables, identical in layout to those in the Great Hall above.
All around, over a hundred house-elves bustled about in spotless tea-towel uniforms embroidered with the Hogwarts crest.
Cedric gestured proudly. "This is the kitchen. Whenever we're hungry at night, we sneak down here for a snack. And breakfast down here saves a trip to the Great Hall. Not bad, huh?"
Russell's eyes gleamed. "I'm so jealous right now."
"Come on in," Cedric urged, giving him a playful push inside before closing the door carefully behind them — Hogwarts rules or not.
Almost immediately, a nearby house-elf appeared with a polite bow. "Mr. Diggory! You've come to visit us again — and you've brought a new friend!"
He turned to Russell, his big eyes gleaming. "Sir, what may Poppy prepare for you today?"
"I'll have whatever Cedric's having, thank you," Russell said, inclining his head.
"No need to thank Poppy, sir. Serving you is Poppy's honor!" The elf bowed deeply before scurrying off with a squeak of delight.
---
After breakfast, the two boys parted ways at the kitchen entrance — their schedules diverging for the day.
But just before leaving, Russell couldn't help asking, "Cedric… don't you think that was a bit too sweet?"
He wasn't exaggerating — their breakfast had nearly sent him into sugar shock: two treacle tarts, one glazed doughnut, and a giant mug of pumpkin juice so sweet it could dissolve a spoon.
Russell had tried to leave some, but Poppy's enormous hopeful eyes had defeated him. He'd forced it all down with a painful smile, silently vowing that next time, he'd order for himself.
Cedric blinked innocently. "Too sweet? Nah. It was perfect."
Russell sighed inwardly. Another sugar-brained Hufflepuff, he thought. Good thing wizards don't get diabetes.