Standing at the doorway, Kirk noticed the gazes of Wentworth and Cedric fixed on him. His expression shifted multiple times before finally settling into a fawning smile as he said to Wentworth:
"I didn't hear a thing just now, Master!"
Wentworth: ???
Earlier that morning, Kirk had been doused in pumpkin juice by Wentworth in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Though not exactly angry, Kirk wasn't about to let it slide either.
He'd initially planned to sneak up behind Wentworth and cast a prank spell on him. However, as he approached the doorway, he overheard Wentworth and Cedric's conversation. Startled, Kirk accidentally dropped his wand, which clattered to the ground and interrupted the two mid-discussion, leading to the current awkward scene.
"Are you sure about this? You really want to join the Pureblood Party? You don't have to—I mean, we're friends. I wouldn't…"
Before Wentworth could finish, Kirk interrupted him resolutely:
"No! Wentworth! It's precisely because we're friends that I hope you'll give me this opportunity! You must know, I've admired the Pureblood Party for a long time, but I've never had the chance to join. Today, no matter what, you must agree to my request!"
Cedric, standing off to the side, said bluntly:
"Senior Kirk, you're just afraid we'll silence you, aren't you? Don't worry—I won't let Wentworth do that!"
Wentworth nodded in agreement, assuring Kirk he wouldn't harm him.
But Kirk persisted, leaving Wentworth with no choice but to relent and agree to his request.
"So, Wentworth, what's your next move?"
Seeing the matter settled, Cedric stopped trying to dissuade Kirk and instead turned to Wentworth for answers.
Wentworth spread his hands helplessly and said:
"The usual, of course! What else can I do? I came to Hogwarts to learn magic, not to abandon my studies halfway and return home to inherit the family business!"
Kirk, his face filled with admiration, looked at Wentworth and said:
"You could rely on your family, but instead, you choose to depend on your talents, all while working so hard! I'm now even more convinced that my earlier decision was absolutely correct!"
Cedric rolled his eyes, while Wentworth, visibly embarrassed, replied:
"Senior Kirk, there's no need for this! And especially, don't call me something like 'Young Master!'"
Kirk nodded as if enlightened and responded:
"You're right—despite your youth, you already possess talents and strength far beyond your years. 'Young Master' doesn't seem fitting. How about I call you 'Master Grindelwald' instead?"
Wentworth buried his face in his hands, utterly speechless. After a long pause, he said:
"From now on, just call me Wentworth. Forget all these unnecessary titles!"
Kirk immediately complied:
"Of course, Master Grindelwald!"
Wentworth: …
Unable to endure Kirk's obsequiousness any longer, Wentworth turned to Cedric and said:
"Anyway, our top priority right now is to improve our own strength. There are people out there who want me dead, and I don't even know who they are yet!"
Cedric nodded in agreement, while Kirk chimed in, his face filled with reverence:
"Master Grindelwald is truly a visionary…"
Wentworth and Cedric: "Shut up!"
And so, while the wizarding world outside remained unsettled by the resurgence of the Pureblood Party, Wentworth's life regained a semblance of calm. He spent his evenings practicing spells in the Room of Requirement and his weekends learning magic under Lupin in the Shrieking Shack. His days were full and productive.
Wentworth had even considered writing to Abernathy and the others to check in, but each time he picked up his quill, he struggled to find the right words. In the end, he simply wrote a brief letter of concern, asking if there had been any casualties among the Pureblood Party wizards in their battle with the British Ministry of Magic.
Thus, Wentworth's life entered a rare period of peace.
However, while Wentworth found calm, someone else did not—Cassandra.
After her initial attempt at manipulation failed, Cassandra reflected on her approach and concluded she'd been too obvious.
That evening, after dinner in the Great Hall, Cassandra returned to her dormitory, applied light makeup, and made her way to the Hufflepuff dormitories, hoping to stage a "chance encounter" with Wentworth.
Though Cassandra was a Slytherin, her frequent presence near the Hufflepuff common room drew curious looks from many Hufflepuffs. Fortunately, the Hogwarts kitchen was nearby, and whenever someone asked why she was there, Cassandra would claim that she hadn't enjoyed the dinner and wanted to grab something else to eat from the kitchen.
Yet, despite waiting outside the Hufflepuff dormitory all night, Cassandra neither saw Wentworth leave nor return.
"Could it be that he just stays in his dorm and never comes out? Impossible, right? The leader of the Pureblood Party is a shut-in?"
Cassandra muttered to herself in disbelief.
As curfew approached, Cassandra reluctantly returned to her dormitory. To avoid suspicion, she made a stop at the kitchen on her way back, grabbing some snacks from the house-elves.
Unbeknownst to Cassandra, Wentworth only returned to the Hufflepuff dormitory much later that night, sneaking back from the Room of Requirement under the cover of darkness and risking detection by Filch.
The following day, Cassandra repeated her strategy, but the results were the same.
For several consecutive nights, Cassandra loitered outside the Hufflepuff common room, each time leaving with snacks from the kitchen.
In the end, she never saw Wentworth—but she did gain three pounds, driving her to frustration.
Meanwhile, Christine, who had been staying hidden in Hogsmeade, kept pressuring Cassandra. Left with no choice, Cassandra wrote back, explaining that luring Wentworth out of Hogwarts at night was too difficult and suggesting they try during the weekend instead.
Christine quickly responded, agreeing to Cassandra's plan.
"Don't blame me for this, Wentworth…"
Cassandra murmured, feeling a pang of guilt as she burned Christine's letter.
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