The students returned on the evening of January sixth. The castle suddenly loud and chaotic again after two weeks of tranquility.
Rowan was in the common room when Iris arrived, her trunk floating behind her.
"Rowan!" She hurried over, dropping into the chair beside him. "How was your Christmas? Did you actually spend it all studying like Celeste predicted?"
"Not all of it. I explored quite a bit too. Found some interesting things. How was Manchester?"
Iris's expression grew complicated. "Strange. My parents tried, they really did. But they're so uncomfortable around magic now. Every time I used my wand, even just to levitate my trunk, they'd tense up. By the end of the holiday, I couldn't wait to come back."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's not your fault." She pulled something from her bag. A small wrapped package. "I got you something else while I was home. Saw it in a shop and thought of you."
Inside was a silver pocket watch. Simple but elegant, with clean lines and a smooth face. When Rowan opened it, he saw that the interior was engraved: Tempus edax rerum - Time, devourer of all things.
"It's beautiful," Rowan said honestly. "Thank you."
"I figured you'd appreciate the Latin. And you're always so precise about timing with potions and spell practice. Seemed appropriate."
"It's perfect." Rowan hesitated, then pulled out a small package he'd prepared. "I got you something too. Found it during my explorations."
Inside was a book. Advanced Techniques in Mental Magic by Erasmus Moonstone, a continuation of the Occlumency text they'd been studying. He'd discovered it in the Room of Requirement, pages marked with notes about methods neither of them had seen before.
Iris opened the book carefully, scanning the marked pages. "This is incredible. Some of these methods... I've never even heard of them."
"Neither had I. Apparently there are entire schools of thought about mental magic that aren't taught at Hogwarts. I think we should study them."
They spent the rest of the evening discussing the book, planning how to integrate its techniques into their practice, and catching up on the past two weeks.
Over the next few days, as more students returned, Rowan distributed his other gifts. He found Edmund at breakfast in the Great Hall and presented him with the compass.
"This is brilliant!" Edmund exclaimed, examining the brass instrument. "And it's got a preservation charm? Rowan, this is too much—"
"It's a lost object I found during my explorations. Better it goes to someone who'll appreciate it than sit forgotten in a dusty corner."
He gave Celeste the daggers during a corridor meeting between classes. She unsheathed one, testing the edge with her thumb.
"These are gorgeous. And sharp enough to actually be useful. Where did you find them?"
"Exploring the castle. There are more forgotten things in Hogwarts than you'd imagine."
Lawrence received the crystal prism during one of their late-night theoretical discussions in the common room.
"This is perfect for visualizing spell geometries," Lawrence said, holding it up to the lamplight and watching the patterns dance across the walls. "I've been trying to work out the mathematical structure of the Shield Charm, and this will help enormously. Thank you."
That night, lying in bed after his meditation, Rowan reflected on how much had changed since September. He'd arrived at Hogwarts alone, friendless, armed only with knowledge from another life and determination to succeed.
Now he had friends who understood him, who shared his intellectual curiosity, who pushed him to be better.
Iris, with her quiet determination and growing confidence. Lawrence, with his theoretical brilliance and willingness to explore dangerous ideas. Edmund, with his steady kindness and genuine care for others. Celeste, with her fierce loyalty and refusal to tolerate nonsense.
They were assets, certainly. People who could help him achieve his goals.
But they were also more than that. They were friends, in the truest sense. People he cared about. People he'd protect.
That realization was simultaneously comforting and concerning. Caring about people made you vulnerable. It created weaknesses that enemies could exploit. But it also gave you reasons to fight, motivations beyond simple self-interest.
Rowan decided he could live with that vulnerability.
Classes resumed on Monday with renewed intensity. Professor Weasley had apparently spent her holiday planning more challenging lessons, because she immediately moved them from beetle-to-button transformations to attempting to transform mice into snuffboxes.
"Living to inanimate with significantly more complex target objects," she explained. "The mouse's natural magic will resist more strongly than a beetle's, and the snuffbox's intricate structure requires precise visualization. I expect many failures before anyone succeeds."
She was right.
Rowan's first three attempts produced snuffboxes with tails, snuffboxes that squeaked, and something that was neither mouse nor snuffbox but a disturbing amalgamation of both that had to be vanished immediately.
His fourth attempt, after careful analysis of what went wrong, produced a perfect snuffbox. Elegant, functional, with a small hinge that worked smoothly. The mouse was completely gone, its matter transformed entirely.
Professor Weasley examined the snuffbox closely. She tested the hinge, checked the interior, and nodded once. "Ten points to Ravenclaw." She moved to the next desk without elaboration, which by now Rowan recognized as her way of saying she had nothing to correct.
In Potions, Professor Sharp introduced them to the Cure for Boils' more complex cousin. A Burn-Healing Paste that required precise temperature control and timing. Rowan's paste came out perfectly, earning him rare praise from Sharp: "Acceptable work, Mr. Ashcroft. The consistency is correct and the color indicates proper ingredient integration."
Charms covered the Knockback Jinx in detail. Rowan already knew it but pretended to learn. Professor Ronen taught them proper wand technique, explained the theory behind kinetic magical energy, and had them practice on training dummies.
Rowan's modified version, with the added counterclockwise twist, was noticeably more powerful than his classmates' standard casts.
Ronen noticed.
"Interesting technique, Mr. Ashcroft. Where did you learn that variation?"
"Experimental modification, Professor. I was reading about wand movements and wondered if altering the final gesture would affect the spell's trajectory."
Ronen's eyebrows rose. "Spell modification is advanced magic, potentially dangerous. But your instincts are sound. That modification does indeed enhance the jinx's power. Five points to Ravenclaw for innovative thinking. But do be careful. Not all modifications produce positive results."
"I will, Professor. Thank you."
Defense Against the Dark Arts continued to be Rowan's favorite class. Professor Hecat had moved beyond basic shields and jinxes to more advanced defensive magic.
"Today we begin studying the Full Body-Bind Curse," she announced. "The incantation is Petrificus Totalus. It renders the target completely immobile. Unable to move, speak, or defend themselves. It's not Dark magic, but it's certainly aggressive magic, and it requires precision to cast properly."
She demonstrated on a training dummy, which went rigid and toppled over like a felled tree.
"Your target will fall and potentially injure themselves, so use this spell responsibly. In pairs, practice on each other. I'll be monitoring closely, and anyone who deliberately tries to hurt their partner will face detention and house point loss."
Rowan partnered with Iris. He'd already thrown the spell at Sebastian in dueling club, but his casting had been rushed and sloppy. The structured practice tightened his technique considerably.
By the time class ended, he could land the Body-Bind cleanly on every attempt, and Iris wasn't far behind him.