"Well done!"

Michael wrapped an arm around Vid’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance: "When those three surrounded you, I thought you were doomed this time!"

"Let’s go, let’s go! Back to the castle! We’re throwing a grand celebration feast!" Anthony shouted excitedly.

"Congratulations, Vid!"

"That’s awesome! I knew those guys couldn’t handle you!"

Classmates and friends surged forward, some hugging him, some shaking his hand, others stretching out their arms trying to pat his shoulder, and some continuously squeezing in front of him as if they were meeting for the first time.

Professor Flitwick’s sharp voice came from the side: "I’m proud of you, child!"

Cedric and Harry were also surrounded by their respective housemates, people shouting exuberantly, making the air by the lake sizzle with excitement.

Students from other schools looked displeased. But what did it matter? The students of Hogwarts were immersed in excitement, no one cared.

Fudge stood up with his stomach protruding, his face full of self-satisfied smiles, pretending modestly while shaking hands with the principals of other magic schools and with foreign wizards who came to watch the competition, unable to conceal his smiles.

In front of the long table, a young journalist was jumping up and down taking pictures of the Minister, at times crouching and at other times standing on a high platform, trying to capture every angle of Fudge, completely ignoring the several angry glances shot his way.

Vid’s gaze swept over the crowd and met Dumbledore’s eyes.

Those azure eyes seemed like a spring, sparkling with a quiet smile. He nodded slightly, the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth relaxed, his gaze filled with gentleness and comfort.

Vid nodded in return, his mouth unconsciously curling upward, his eyes slightly curved in a moment of elation.

At that moment, the surrounding figures and sounds suddenly became blurred, faces transformed into flowing light, eventually turning into a dark cave, surrounded by moist black-grey soil.

He saw a toad covered in mud waking from hibernation.

It moved its limbs, slowly opening its swollen eyelids, revealing a pair of grey horizontal pupils.

"Ribbit—"

The throat sac swelled, and the toad let out a muffled croak.

It lay on the ground, seemingly depressed for a while, as if not fully awake, after who knows how long, finally clumsily moved its body, crawling out of the mud nest.

Around was a dimly lit swamp, cold mist floating over the silt, Vid seemed to smell the rotting scent of reeds and aquatic plants.

The toad crawled across the damp ground, leaving behind a winding trail. Eventually, it stopped by a piece of moss-covered rotten wood, letting out a low "gurgle."

For some reason, Vid felt he could discern a sense of sadness and despair from its sound.

The toad had scarcely croaked a few times when it suddenly froze—

On the other side of the rotten wood, came a rustling sound, something seemed to be treading on the withered grass, approaching.

Slime oozed from the toad’s back.

It shrank its neck, thinking to find a hiding place, when suddenly a shadow cast over its head.

The toad slowly raised its head, a difficult movement for it.

Above it, a young wolf poked its head out, its moist nose shimmering, amber eyes sparkling with pure curiosity.

The wolf tilted its head, reaching out a paw, seemingly wanting to catch the prematurely awakened toad.

The toad was instantly terrified, jumped up and fled, its bulging eyes seemingly colliding directly with Vid’s gaze—

...

The dream shattered in an instant, Vid snapped open his eyes, instinctively clutching the edge of the desk, nearly bouncing out of his seat.

Beside him, Michael was startled awake by the sharp reaction, groggily opened his eyes and glanced around, vaguely asking: "What’s wrong?"

Before Vid could answer, Michael drifted back to sleep, slumping over the desk.

The classroom was permeated with the languidness of the afternoon, Professor Bin’s monotonous voice droned from the podium:

"The root cause of the rebellion... uh... as stated in the third paragraph of the textbook, stemmed from the goblins’ demand for magic wand usage. However, according to management legislation..."

The sound of snoring wafted from the back rows, most had already fallen asleep, Professor Bin pretended not to see.

Vid’s breathing gradually stabilized, feeling his back drenched in cold sweat.

"What’s wrong?" Padma turned around, asked softly: "Rare to attend Magic History class, and you actually fell asleep? Vid, weren’t you specifically catching up on sleep during this class?"

"Had a nightmare." Vid mumbled.

He gazed at the Magic History textbook sprawled on his desk, visions of the toad’s eyes seemed to flicker again before him...

The wakeful agony, aversion, emptiness... and when faced with danger, the gaze bursting with intense fear, and the desperate desire to survive...

Those eyes held too many complex emotions, prompting the instinctive feeling that it wasn’t an animal’s gaze, more akin to a human soul trapped within an ugly shell.

And those grey eyes...

Vid instinctively reached out, pressing against his eyelids.

The warm eyes rolled beneath his fingers, not vertical pupils, nor conspicuously protruding from his face.

He unconsciously sighed in relief.

Hopefully, it’s not a prophetic dream.

Vid wouldn’t let himself be unlucky enough to get transformed into a toad with no means of escape.

Hmm... if, someday, Sirius were turned into a toad, Vid swore he would definitely find him before the wolf could kill the toad and find a way to turn him back.

...

"Nightmare?" During dinner, Theo asked, holding a fork, "What kind of nightmare?"

"Don’t mention it."

Vid sighed wearily, the images from the dream still haunting his mind, he picked up a piece of fried egg, asking: "You mentioned earlier what’s been going on with the Slytherins lately?"

Theo glanced around, leaned closer and whispered: "Malfoy seems to have fallen out with everyone."

"Is that news?" Michael propped his chin, boredly poking at a pie, rolling his eyes: "Haven’t they already fallen out?"

"This time is different, even Pansy Parkinson isn’t hanging out with him anymore." Leian whispered stealthily: "We actually saw him secretly crying in the bathroom once."

Michael paused mid-fork, frowned saying: "I think I heard Daphne mention his dad is still missing."

"It’s been months right?" Theo also queried: "Where on earth has he gone?"

Before his words faded, Leian urgently nudged Theo’s arm, simultaneously gesturing to Vid and the others, and the group caught on and went silent.

Vid looked up, noticing Draco Malfoy walking down the aisle, his gaze cold and arrogant as if no one matched his attention.

Vid paused, his gaze following Draco until he reached the end of the Slytherin Long Table and settled into an empty seat there, then abruptly turning his head.

His eyes narrowed, mouth set in a hard line, expression icy and sharp as if silently warning - "What are you looking at?".

Vid withdrew his gaze, a slight stir in his heart.

Why had he forgotten?

Draco Malfoy also had grey eyes... as did his father.