This day passed quickly. Dumbledore never appeared, and Vitam somehow gained Professor McGonagall's trust, sealing off the entire Forbidden Forest and surrounding areas.
Even Hagrid's hut was relocated closer to the castle. Using his hut as a boundary line, the professors jointly established a blockade.
Professor McGonagall employed many tools Vitam provided. Anyone trying to enter or exit would instantly trigger warnings.
This behaviour caused brief panic, but since Halloween, the Forbidden Forest had already been "forbidden territory". Current measures merely implemented previous precautionary measures more thoroughly.
"Besides Gryffindor, do you think anyone would really believe Professor McGonagall's explanation that the forest was sealed due to Dark creature riots?"
Terry walked beside Sterling, carrying a book about Name Charms, recently fascinated with such obscure magic.
"Lower years might accept it, but older students probably sense something's wrong." Sterling adjusted his bag strap. "Actually, this is good. If you saw those Slytherin prefects' faces, you'd know they'd never let any Slytherin student leave the castle."
"True. Why aren't you like Hermione and others, grabbing piles of curse-related books to try to figure out Harry's problem?"
"They're too presumptuous, while I'm more self-aware." Terry shrugged. "Since Harry's still lying there, even Dumbledore is helpless with his problem. So why should I think I can solve it? Just wasting time."
"What about you, Sterling? You wouldn't think you could solve problems Dumbledore can't just by flipping through library books alone?"
"I did think so this morning. Can't deny that." Sterling nodded straightforwardly, unashamed.
"So you don't think that now? Congratulations, my friend. You've been liberated from arrogance."
Terry wanted to applaud, but his books wouldn't allow it.
"That statement includes Hermione and the others too." Sterling stopped before Ravenclaw's door knocker, glancing at Terry. "You or me?"
"I'll do it." Terry stepped forward.
The door knocker slowly posed its question:
"What, once lost, can never be found again?"
"Time, life, childhood... Many answers exist." Terry easily got the door knocker to open, entering and finding an empty table in the library area to set down his books.
"As for including them... that's normal. That's exactly what they're doing now. Don't tell them; I don't want Padma lecturing me."
"I think they know they're doing useless work, but they're happy to do it." Sterling sat across from him, unhurriedly pulling notebooks and quills from his bag.
"Seeing close friends in such situations... even if you can't accomplish anything, you want to do something. Having such thoughts is normal."
"I see." Terry fell silent briefly, then opened his book.
"If it were you..."
"What?" Sterling didn't hear clearly. Terry's voice was small, hidden behind his upright book.
"If you were lying there forgotten by the world, I'd probably act like them too."
Terry said another sentence, then ran back to the dormitory with his book.
"That's nice." Sterling said to his retreating figure, his mouth corners lifting slightly.
So Terry wasn't as mature as he usually appeared.
His behaviour just now clearly showed he wasn't someone who didn't care about friends. Just that Harry hadn't reached his set standards yet.
This wasn't problematic. From daily interactions, Sterling could see Harry ranked above Terry's other friends scattered throughout Hogwarts. Having this level of friendship in Utopia was sufficient.
Sterling looked around. Not many people in the library area today; everyone was seated with considerable distance between them. Ravenclaw's tacit understanding.
Since this was the case, Sterling needn't return to his dormitory.
Opening his notebook, letting the quill tip absorb enough ink...
Having completed these preparations, facing the blank page, Sterling couldn't begin writing.
He wanted to try what Vitam suggested. Enjoy current life without thinking about problems adults should solve...
So he'd taken out his long-unopened notebook, planning to write fairy tales like he'd done monthly before coming to Hogwarts.
But he couldn't begin.
According to his previous plans, he'd wanted to write wizard stories, drawing from Gerda and Kai's tale. He'd write about a legendary wand with the same materials as his. Thirteen inches exactly, black walnut and dragon heartstring. He remembered clearly.
Such abundant material. Previously, he'd be writing furiously now, completing entire fairy tales without pause...
But his head was filled with complex thoughts.
Thinking of the Black Knight army still tracking Kai in the snowfield, of Harry who'd lost all traces in the world, of foster father Andrew whose name he could only remember. These things occupied Sterling's mind completely, leaving no room for fairy tale fantasies.
Sterling tried writing. Unlike his usual elegant script, crooked words jumped onto the blank page.
"Long, long ago, there was a kingdom covered in heavy snow..."
Then what? What should he write? Introduce Arendelle's royal family? Describe the neighbouring great snowfield?
"Kai possessed frightening magical power. The King and Queen made her hide her talents so citizens who feared cold wouldn't harbour hostility toward her..."
Ice magic would frighten them? If Arendelle's citizens encountered world-forgetting curses, they'd probably die of sheer terror.
Oh. Don't think about those things. Sterling tried using Witness of the Author to temporarily forget these things and complete this fairy tale.
But when magic flowed through his body, "Andrew Dept", hidden in his magic by Scholar of Stars, surfaced in Sterling's mind again.
Sterling fell silent.
Waving away Witness of the Author, he closed his notebook and returned the quill and ink bottle to his bag.
He'd finally discovered an indisputable fact.
Sterling Page could no longer write fairy tales.
London's brightest new star writer, Andersen, could no longer write fairy tales.
"If I faced the Mourning Dragon magic book or Mirror of Erised again, would I see the same scenes as before?"
Probably not. No, definitely not.
Sterling felt he'd see foster father Andrew standing beside him, plus Lady Maleficent and Vivian. They should be with him too...
Was this betraying former dreams?
Sterling wiped his eyes and returned to his dormitory with his packed things.
In the unknowing depths of his heart, the dragon stepped on the sword, baring twisted fangs at the book hanging in the centre.