Awakening from his slumber, Felix was roused by the tremendous clamor echoing through the castle.

Shaking his head, the castle before him seemed to possess its own emotions. He knew it was an illusion, yet this sensation fascinated him. As Felix freshened up, he pondered as if every brick in the school had come alive, eager to partake in a grand event.

It was the last weekend of November, the day promised for student groups approved by the student council to recruit new members. Though Felix thought it unnecessary—many clubs had already recruited days prior and likely filled their quota—the emotions he felt upon waking suggested he had misjudged.

Once Felix and Valen arrived at the hall, he realized he had underestimated the students' enthusiasm.

The hall was buzzing, packed with students. Absentmindedly assuming the perspective of a Dementor, Felix surveyed the scene, feeling as though he stood amidst a joyous ocean. Long tables had been replaced by booths resembling rocky outcrops, around which waves of intense emotions surged. Everywhere, colorful flags waved, and voices clamored.

Strolling to one corner of the hall, Felix spotted Professors McGonagall and Flitwick standing together. McGonagall's face seemed somewhat stiff, struggling to ignore the widespread rule-breaking.

"Oh, Minerva, don't be too strict," the amiable Flitwick said, wielding his wand like a conductor, weaving colorful ribbons and a flock of chirping birds into the air. These birds flew in neat formations, occasionally swooping around lone students.

Felix squinted; were those fledglings? Beneath their soft golden down lay a layer of intricate bronze-hued feathers.

Lost in thought, he suddenly recalled the start of his first year when he made similar alterations to the hall. He conjured a verdant serpent on the ceiling, and Severus had joined... Felix grinned, extending his finger, conjuring a massive bird-serpent in the air.

Bird head, slender neck, blue-green feathers, expansive wings, and shimmering plumage, revealing serene amber eyes when it inclined.

The hall fell briefly silent, then erupted into even louder discussions.

"A bird-serpent! I've only seen them in pictures, didn't expect them to be this stunning," Justin Finch-Fletchley exclaimed in awe.

"I saw them in Classroom Seven," Susan Bones mentioned, but she too gazed dreamily at the ceiling. "They're hidden in bamboo groves, along with ceramic towns."

"What's that?" Justin inquired.

"A town entirely crafted from ceramics. Professor Hapworth's memory body even invited me in to play, said it was..." Susan paused. "Beta testing. Yes, that's the term."

"Internal testing?" Justin grasped the meaning. "Sounds intriguing. Wonder when it'll open."

Meanwhile, McGonagall shot Felix a stern look, a polite yet challenging gaze he found discomforting. She puffed her chest and, finally, with a firm wand wave, chairs in the corner somersaulted, transforming into lions of varying sizes.

As Dumbledore appeared, chaos ensued in the hall: golden fledglings soared, the blue-green feathered bird-serpent carried students overhead, a group of badgers squatted on the wall, staring fixedly at Peeves below.

Peeves, in elaborate attire, floated in mid-air, miraculously refraining from disrupting the atmosphere.

This conveyed one thing—students' thoughts transmitted happiness throughout the hall.

A nuzzle against Dumbledore's leg made him bend down, meeting the gaze of a furry little lion.

Dumbledore chuckled, waving his wand downwards. The dark, cold floor turned into a lush green carpet. Amidst cheers, Dumbledore politely departed, scanning the crowd, quickly finding a very conspicuous individual.

"Severus," Dumbledore stood beside Snape, taking in the lively scene of the hall while twirling his thumb, "If I were to attend a gathering, I wouldn't wear a black robe."

"Too bad, it's my only color of attire," Snape retorted coldly.

"A change of taste isn't bad sometimes. How about silver? Or green?" Dumbledore pondered, gazing at the bustling students. After a pause, he murmured, "Keep an eye on Felix."

"Who?"

"Felix, Felix Hapworth," Dumbledore nearly whispered.

"Are you out of your mind, Dumbledore?" Snape retorted loudly. A student a dozen feet away, holding a Muggle movie poster, trembled as it slipped from their hand, landing at Snape's feet. He grimaced at the movie title. "The Lion King? The Lion King?"

The student, terrified, picked up the poster and hurried away.

Snape cooled down, but his tone grew sharper. "Are you losing your mind?"

Dumbledore wore a helpless expression. "I may be old, but not yet senile." Yet Snape continued scrutinizing him, seemingly trying to discern if he was someone else in disguise; that hooked nose didn't seem quite right.

Dumbledore knew he needed to offer an explanation, gazing at the Weasley twins waving a giant banner. He sighed and said, "Felix is doing something very dangerous."

"What?" Snape asked involuntarily. "Violating Ministry laws? Hasn't he already skirted enough unlawful actions?"

"No, Severus, it's much more serious than that," Dumbledore said. "Involving someone whom, to some extent, is more dangerous than Voldemort... In any case, I cannot make an accurate judgment. You were once his teacher; you understand him best."

"No one understands Felix Hapworth," Snape maliciously remarked. "Even if one day he were to cast a killing curse on you, I wouldn't be surprised."

"To be honest, I don't much care about that," Dumbledore smiled. "So, keep an eye on him, alright?"

...

Fred and George stood on a wooden crate, facing a row of empty butterbeer bottles. Seven or eight junior wizards squatted in front, eyeing the bottles as they burst into clusters of fireworks, expressing envy.

"Bottle fireworks!" Fred exclaimed joyfully. "Just sign up, and you can get one for free." He pointed towards a shimmering poster nearby with colorful letters: 'Defend School Rules to the Death!'

A student carefully read the description below: Still troubled by the intricate school rules? Or shamed by point deductions and detentions for rule-breaking, finding it embarrassing? If so, all your answers lie in the 'Defend School Rules Club,' guiding you through each regulation and providing authoritative interpretations of newly added rules every year! Empowering you to face your seven-year school life confidently!

Something seemed off to the student, and when he looked up, he met a beaming face. "How about it?" George winked. "Feeling intrigued? Still hesitating? It's a rare chance, my friend. You can sign up now; we provide three training sessions for free. If you're talented, you'll grasp the essence quickly..."

Two minutes later, the bewildered boy departed clutching a butterbeer bottle.

"Mind not smashing the bottle!" George kindly reminded as he left, then sighed contentedly. Suddenly, a deliberately hushed voice whispered in his ear, "What happens if it's broken?" Startled, George turned to find two students tightly covering themselves.

"Harry? Ron?" George said in surprise.

"It's

us," Harry muttered.

George scrutinized them for a while, then suddenly laughed. "Hermione's been looking for you..."

"Yeah, we know," Ron mumbled. "We've dodged her twice."

Harry's gaze wandered past George's shoulder, spotting 'Frontline Outlook,' 'S.P.E.W.,' 'The Crumple-Horned Snorkack Must Exist,' and 'Harry Potter Admirers Club' booths gathered in a loose square. Neville, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and the Creevey brothers were fervently busy.

Harry shuddered; he knew that on the Creevey brothers' booth, there were Harry Potter face imprints covering an entire curtain. His battle with the Hungarian Horntail dominated one-third of the display, and he wasn't sure how Dennis managed that. His head occupied one-third of the space, with the rest showing the ferocious Hungarian Horntail. Ron and Hermione were in a corner, clapping like spectators who had stumbled onto the scene...

A group gathered, pointing and chatting. Harry was alarmed—Draco Malfoy was scrutinizing his picture with undisguised disdain, while not far off, Mafalda excitedly questioned Dennis. He enthusiastically explained before she fetched a green notebook and a quill.

"Mind if I take notes?"

"Oh, of course."

Amongst Malfoy and Mafalda, Harry was uncertain whose eyes he'd rather not meet at this moment. If it were before this school year, it would undoubtedly have been Draco Malfoy, as he'd surely spin a web of mockery around him. But now, Harry hesitated— he had no clue what story Mafalda might conjure.

Then he realized something even more unnerving. Professor Lupin and Sirius walked over together, halting in front of the 'Harry Potter Admirers Club' banner, their interest piqued by the photos. Sirius's eyes seemed to shine...

"Hey, Harry." A sudden tap on Harry's shoulder made him jolt. He turned to see Luna.

"What are you doing here?" Harry whispered, regretting not having a sip of Felix Felicis before coming here.

"Hermione's been looking for you," Luna said. "I saw she was too occupied, so I volunteered to help."

"Many people signed up?" Ron asked, surprised. Was S.P.E.W. this popular?

"Yeah, they're almost overwhelmed," Luna said, blinking her large eyes.

Even though there was no accusation in Luna's tone, Harry felt a faint pang of guilt, whether towards Hermione or Neville. After all, he was the founder of the 'Advance Guard' but had now handed it over to others.

Harry hesitated momentarily but as soon as Professor Lupin walked by, any trace of hesitation vanished. If the professor inquired about the 'Harry Potter Admirers Club,' he'd be mortified.

...

"Can I interview you?" Mafalda asked.

"What? Me?" Dennis Creevey looked bewildered, staring at her. Mafalda nodded, "Oh, okay."

"What year are you in?"

"Second year."

"So, you joined last year?" Mafalda said excitedly.

"Yeah, that photo there is mine." Dennis proudly pointed at the Hungarian Horntail picture.

Meanwhile, Sirius swiftly signed on the registration sheet. "Is this all?"

"Of course!" Colin Creevey exclaimed, diving under the table to fetch a large box. "All the photos are in here, carefully selected by me."

Sirius cheerfully left with his complete set of teaching material.

"Dennis! I can't believe it, we've recruited a professor for our club!" Colin exclaimed loudly, turning to hug his brother, only to find Dennis missing. He looked around and spotted Dennis chatting with a girl near the deserted S.P.E.W. stand.

Hermione, along with Neville and Ginny, was distributing flyers for the 'Advance Guard,' occasionally fielding questions like "What's a Bowtruckle?" Hermione's expression was sullen; she had merged the positions of the two clubs to avoid delays, yet no one was here on her side. None of the three new recruits they'd expected had shown up today! On the contrary, the 'Advance Guard' was quite popular, with a constant stream of inquiries and the stack of registration forms quickly filling up.

Hermione gazed forlornly at the chaotic hall, thinking sadly: "Compared to advocating for elf rights, it's clear that music, movies, magical art, and aggressive dueling are more appealing."

At that moment, a small, round, black creature suddenly hopped onto the table.

"Chirp?"

"Valen?" Hermione looked up, seeing Valen holding a wand emitting fluorescent light, waving it like two glowsticks. "Oh." A warm feeling spread within her as she picked Valen up, giving a little pat on her face. "Thunk!" A palm-sized notebook fell from Valen's pouch and landed on the table.

"Master's Diary?" Hermione struggled to make out the crooked letters on the notebook, looking at Valen in confusion. Valen awkwardly wriggled away from her grip, picking up the fallen notebook and scampering off. Hermione stood there for a moment, then burst into a smile.

"What's this?" a voice asked.

"Advance Guard. You can think of it as a Dumbledore's Army, although it's informal. We aim to provide professional training and..." Hermione recited almost mechanically, "Um, Professor?"

Felix smiled and nodded at her.

"No takers?" he asked, eyeing the pile of empty registration forms on the table.

"Maybe it's not the right time," Hermione said, dejected.

"If you're just looking to attract members, you could try the Weasley twins' approach," Felix suggested, glancing towards the 'Protectors of School Rules' club, bustling with activity in stark contrast to their side.

"But I don't want—" Hermione bit her lip, conflicted.

"Hello?" a voice interrupted. Mafalda peeked at them, having just arranged an interview with Dennis, following through her schedule without pause. "Can I take a form?"

Hermione stared at her wide-eyed. "You want to join S.P.E.W.?"

Mafalda shrugged. "If you agree—"

"Agree!" Hermione interjected promptly. "Are you interested in house-elf welfare too? What are your thoughts? Actually, I feel the name is a bit outdated, but as the initial goal of the organization, it's still good... I mean, unlike my initial idea, I hope the new charter unites all humanoid creatures, fostering mutual benefit. Even from a power perspective, wizards hold the upper hand, so it's a time to show grace..."

Felix twirled a quill in his hand, silently listening, his own assistant seemingly refining his thoughts. To him, equality wasn't necessary; he wouldn't bother with such thankless tasks. But eliminating hatred and forming a pan-magical alliance led by wizards had its value.

After a thought, he picked up a registration form to fill it in.

Mafalda wasn't quite used to Hermione's enthusiasm. "Oh, um," she hesitated, "there's something I should tell you. With your club added, I've joined twenty-seven clubs in total..."

The joy on Hermione's face froze.

"Are you joking? Or did you sign up for every club available?"

"Of course not!" Mafalda retorted indignantly. "I always have a chat before joining, at least to make sure they're not impulsive..." Her voice trailed off, sounding less convincing.

The two stared at each other for a moment, and eventually, Hermione relented. Exhaustedly, she said, "Fine, here's the form... wait, this one's already filled... Professor?" Hermione glanced around, spotting Harry and Ron sneaking over from the other side, almost wrapping themselves up like mummies.

"You—still—know—how—to—come back?" Hermione shouted at them.

"Is the professor gone?" Harry and Ron avoided eye contact, not daring to look at her. Harry nervously said, "Great, um, I mean... what are you doing here?" He turned to glare at Mafalda.

Mafalda lifted her chin proudly.

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