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Time flowed steadily into October.
Hogwarts was tinged with autumn, making it perfect for sleeping.
That afternoon, having just finished Professor Binns's History of Magic class, most students walked out of the classroom with bewildered expressions and unsteady steps.
However, one person shot up from his seat and dashed out of the classroom door with a "swoosh" before the final echo of Professor Binns's dismissal had completely faded.
Lynn, who had just woken up, rubbed his eyes sleepily and turned in confusion to William, who looked equally tired but was at least conscious:
"Is he... in a hurry to be reincarnated? Or is the Castle on fire?"
William adjusted his glasses and yawned. Even he found it difficult to be completely immune to the hypnotic offense of History of Magic.
"The Quidditch Pitch is rarely vacant today. Neither the Slytherin nor the Gryffindor teams are training this afternoon, but it seems some players still have classes, so they don't have enough people to use the entire pitch.
Ravenclaw's Seeker fell off his broom during practice yesterday and broke his arm; he's still recuperating in the Hospital Wing. So the pitch isn't reserved this afternoon.
That guy, Edgar, forced himself to drink two bottles of Stimulating Potion during this History of Magic class. He kept his eyes open and didn't dare truly sleep, just waiting for this moment. See? He ran off the second class ended."
Lynn laughed upon hearing this—it really was a case of "the right time, the right place, and the right people"...
Meanwhile, Edgar quickly retrieved his perfectly polished broom, left the Castle, and sprinted toward the Quidditch Pitch.
When Edgar breathlessly arrived at the edge of the pitch, he saw that the Hufflepuff Quidditch team members were not practicing; instead, they were gathered dejectedly in a circle beneath the goalpost.
Edgar's heart dropped, and he cautiously asked, "Hey, Cedric, what's wrong with you guys?"
Cedric looked up, his face crumpled into a ball, filled with distress. "Edgar... our team's Golden Snitch is missing!"
"What?!" Edgar's voice instantly rose.
The Golden Snitch! That thing isn't an ordinary quaffle! It's ridiculously expensive!
"How did it go missing? When did this happen? Did you look for it? Have you searched the pitch, the changing rooms, and the common room?" Edgar fired off questions like a machine gun.
"We found out when we were counting the equipment before practice today," a Hufflepuff Beater nearby said regretfully. "The box for the Snitch is still here, and the lock isn't broken, but it's empty! We've searched every possible location and asked everyone who might have seen it, but there's no trace! It's like it grew wings and flew away... Oh, wait, it flies already."
Edgar felt his world collapsing.
"How about... borrowing one from another house for now?" Edgar suggested. "Just to tide you over? Like Ravenclaw's—their Seeker is injured, so they probably won't need it recently, right?"
Cedric shook his head miserably. "We asked. Ravenclaw said their Snitch needs maintenance and isn't available for loan.
Gryffindor and Slytherin... you know they're intensely competitive right now. There's no way they'd lend it to us, especially Slytherin. We're lucky they haven't seized the opportunity to mock us."
Edgar fell silent.
Edgar pondered.
Suddenly, Edgar had an idea!
He remembered the Room of Requirement that Lynn had taken him to before!
If it can conjure a space for practicing spells, is it possible for it to conjure a room storing Quidditch equipment, or even conjure a Golden Snitch directly?!
"Wait for me!" Edgar suddenly looked up. "I have a solution! Wait for me!"
Without waiting for Cedric and the others to react, he turned and sprinted toward the Castle...
"I need a room containing a Golden Snitch!"
He walked back and forth three times.
A door appeared on the stone wall. Edgar impatiently pushed it open and rushed inside.
The room wasn't large; it was filled with shelves.
Edgar scanned the room hopefully—then, that hope quickly vanished.
The shelves were densely packed with models, replicas, photos, drawings, and even crude paper crafts of the Golden Snitch!
They were glittering and dazzling, but none of them were real.
Edgar slapped his forehead in annoyance. Had his request not been precise enough? Had the Room of Requirement interpreted it as a room "displaying Golden Snitches"?
He exited the room, and the door vanished.
"I need a room for storing Quidditch equipment!"
A new door appeared. Edgar pushed it open and stepped inside. This room was much larger, like a small warehouse. Inside were piles of old quaffles and Bludgers, along with several ancient brooms.
He searched for a long time but didn't even see a shadow of a Golden Snitch.
"Could it be that... the Snitch is hidden?"
Edgar, unwilling to give up, faced the wall for the third time.
"I need a place to hide things! A place that can hide anything and might contain anything!"
This time, it was a room so immense it stretched beyond sight! Or rather, it wasn't a "room" at all, but a landscape of mountains and valleys formed by countless piles of junk!
Everywhere he looked, there were things: broken furniture, small mountains of old books, rusted armor, shattered statues, tangled potion bottles, faded tapestries, and various strange magical items whose purpose couldn't be discerned...
Edgar's stubbornness kicked in. He rode his broom, weaving between the clutter, his eyes rapidly scanning area after area.
"What's this? Eww~ A ring, dark and dirty, with the gems fallen out. Useless."
"What's this? A broken pocket watch that ticks by itself but whose hands spin wildly?"
"Why isn't it here? Golden Snitch, where exactly are you hiding?"
He flew for about ten minutes, covering a large area, but aside from getting dust in his eyes a few times, he found nothing.
Just then—
A flash of golden light zipped over his head!
Edgar jolted and snapped his head up! He saw a golden sphere fly with a "swoosh" deep into the mountain of junk!
"I found you!"
Good news: Edgar's flying skills and reaction speed were indeed not bad. He caught the Golden Snitch.
Bad news: Edgar's skills were "not bad," but they were definitely "not good." The moment he caught the Snitch, due to a shift in his center of gravity—
"Waaah—!"
He tumbled sideways and crashed into a nearby pile of junk!
Bang! Crash...
Fortunately, his flying height hadn't been very high, only about two meters above the ground.
"Cough, cough, cough..." Edgar choked on the dust, coughing heavily.
He sat up from the pile of junk and checked the Golden Snitch in his hand—yes, it was still there.
Then, he felt something hard poke him painfully beneath his backside.
"What the heck is that?" he muttered, moving aside and looking beneath himself.
Edgar froze.
It was an extremely exquisite diadem, with simple and elegant lines, inlaid with countless tiny gems. At the front of the diadem was a massive sapphire, whose inherent brilliance was impossible to conceal, even beneath a layer of dust.