After dropping that final bombshell, Rey didn't hesitate for a second. With a stony face, he turned around and walked straight off the tower.
Helena was stubborn, sure, but Rey was even more so.
Rey's words were exactly as domineering as they sounded: I am going to bring you back to life, and then you are going to have my children. You just have to accept it; there is no room for negotiation.
Helena was stunned by his declaration. She just stood there, watching Rey turn and leave with that cool, unwavering confidence.
She hadn't expected this man, who was technically a few years younger than her, to have such a commanding side. It felt like she was re-learning the man she had loved for a thousand years.
He called it a "unilateral notification" and shamelessly demanded she have babies with him—not asking, telling.
She remembered a thousand years ago, she had once said she wanted to have many children with Rey. Now, he had thrown those words back at her with absolute authority. It turned out he had remembered that promise all along; he had never forgotten.
It was hard to describe. Even though Rey had practically scolded her, stubborn Helena felt an indescribable sweetness welling up in her heart. She smiled shyly, replaying Rey's bossy moment over and over in her mind.
The tone of his voice, his body language, and that look in his eyes that brooked no argument.
It played on a loop in her head, leaving a lingering, sweet aftertaste she couldn't get enough of.
---
Love is the most powerful magic in the world, bar none. It can make people irrationally lose their minds and act on impulse; it can also steel a person's conviction, strengthening their will to grit their teeth and persevere.
In the wizarding world, love was a magic that even Voldemort tripped over. Lily Potter's love for her son, Harry, was exactly what rebounded Voldemort's curse, turning her son into the Savior of the Wizarding World.
Rey, unaware of Helena's girlish reaction, went straight back to his dorm.
He was genuinely angry at Helena, and that anger fueled his dominance. When he reached the Ravenclaw common room, he simply glared coldly at the eagle door knocker when it tried to ask a riddle. He suppressed the question with sheer force of will, and the door obediently swung open.
In that moment, Rey's eyes had turned into dark golden vertical slits. His aura was so imposing that it felt like defying him would lead to certain death.
Rey had threatened the eagle knocker once before, leaving a deep impression. But this time went above and beyond. It was safe to say the knocker would forever remember Rey MacFusty—the student who broke the rules and opened the door without answering a single question.
Early the next morning, Rey got up and walked through the castle.
Hogwarts was much quieter, though a few students were still wandering around. Since it was the Easter holidays, not summer break, students were allowed to stay. It wasn't completely deserted.
During the holidays, the most populated place at Hogwarts was the Quidditch pitch.
Breaks were prime time for Quidditch teams to squeeze in extra training.
Watching the teams practice was also a rare form of entertainment. Most students who stayed behind, especially the girls, flocked there to watch.
Upper-year Quidditch players almost always had girlfriends. After all, Quidditch in the wizarding world was like basketball or football in the Muggle world—the athletes were the stars. Naturally, their girlfriends became their cheerleaders in the stands.
After breakfast, this was exactly where Rey headed. He wasn't there to watch the practice, though; he was looking for someone to ask for help.
Rolanda Hooch. That was who Rey needed. Since traveling back, due to one thing or another, Rey hadn't attended a single flying class.
After a thousand years apart, he wondered if that adult Black Dragon would still recognize him, a fellow halfling of the dragon race.
Ever since transforming into a giant dragon, Rey had been unable to cast spells. After thinking it over, he felt the failure was directly linked to that transformation.
Dumbledore had said the source of his magic—his mental world—had undergone a fundamental change. That conclusion was likely correct, but how exactly had his magic changed? And how was he supposed to use it now?
Rey felt that asking Madam Hooch would yield some answers. Since they were both dragons, the origin of their magic should be similar.
Before Rey even climbed up the high stands of the Quidditch pitch, he heard the screaming and cheering of girls.
Upper-year girls weren't that old, really. They were at that age where romance was blossoming, and they spared no effort in cheering for their crushes.
When Rey finally climbed up, he realized the team using the pitch today was the red lions—Gryffindor.
A thousand years ago, Godric Gryffindor had been a dashing, unbelievably cool athlete. A millennium later, these little lions had inherited his righteousness, hot-bloodedness, and drive.
A thousand years passed in the blink of an eye.
Watching the little lions zooming around on broomsticks, Rey felt a wave of nostalgia. Remembering the red-haired eccentric he met back then, he really wanted to ask, "How have you been?"
Rey had a feeling that the Four Founders might still be living in some corner of the world. To him, seeing them felt like it happened just yesterday.
Pushing down the sentimentality, Rey watched the four-on-four scrimmage on the field.
Madam Hooch was flying alongside them on her broom, acting as the referee.
---
The Quidditch stands were high up in the air.
Since Rey couldn't use magic, let alone fly a broom, he had to climb the stairs manually.
As soon as he reached the stands, he heard the excited screams of the girls again.
There were eight people on the field, but one red-haired boy flew exceptionally well. He was shouting loudly, correcting the defense and offense of his teammates.
"Captain Charlie is so handsome! He's not just the Seeker; he led Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup!"
"He's the Seeker, Gryffindor's ace!" The fangirls discussed excitedly after screaming.
There aren't many redheads around; usually, if they have red hair, they're related to the Weasleys.
Charlie Weasley. His guess was right.
Rey found a spot with fewer people and sat down, looking at Charlie in the air.
The scrimmage had paused. Charlie Weasley was hovering near the three goal hoops, talking to a smaller keeper, seemingly passing on some defensive tips.
The youngest Weasley was Ron, but Rey didn't know where Charlie fell in the birth order. He vaguely remembered Ron mentioning in the movies that he had a brother studying dragons in Romania. This must be that brother.
Rey didn't know much about Quidditch. Before enrolling, he had fantasized about being a Seeker, but after getting seriously injured in his first flying class, he had scrapped that idea.
The intensity of Quidditch was definitely higher than rugby; it always got the crowd's blood pumping.
Injuries were common in this sport. Fortunately, thanks to excellent healing magic, fatalities were extremely rare.
Since the Gryffindor team was practicing, most of the spectators were Gryffindors. Rey, a Ravenclaw student in black robes sitting there, stood out like a sore thumb—a speck of black in a sea of red and gold.
Quidditch competition at Hogwarts was fierce. During technical drills, teams usually guarded against spies from other Houses.
A student like Rey, wearing the Ravenclaw eagle crest, could easily be mistaken by the girls in the stands as a spy sent to scout their tactics.
A few girls nearby whispered to each other, occasionally glancing sideways at Rey. After a brief discussion, two of them moved over to sit near him, likely planning to feel him out.
"Hey, you look familiar. Are you a Quidditch player too?"
One of the girls struck up a conversation. Her timing was perfect—right when the training was at its most exciting.