Moriarty and Jericho entered the castle and found a secluded corridor.
"The reason why Keith's broom was lifted into the air was because you interfered," Moriarty said bluntly, his tone firm.
Jericho appeared calm, as if he had been prepared for this moment. However, he kept his head down and hadn't raised it since Moriarty called him over.
"You truly want to ride your broom and fly freely. When you saw Keith's anxious expression, you cast a spell on his broom.
I believe that spell must be unique to the Blanche family. Lilith mentioned that your family specializes in sports magic. If not for this incident, I wouldn't have realized you could cast spells silently—perhaps even wandlessly? Though, it may only work for certain types of magic."
Jericho remained silent, so Moriarty continued.
"The effect of your spell was obvious—Keith was thrown off his broom, Ms. Hooch was distracted, and we got the chance to showcase our flying skills, securing our spots on the Quidditch team.
As for Keith's safety? You had already calculated everything. You knew I was there and wouldn't let anything fatal happen to him.
And no matter how one looks at it, this appeared to be an accident. No one would suspect you. You even found a scapegoat—Percy Weasley.
After all, Percy quarreled with Keith and said some unfortunate words. Who better to take the blame?"
Moriarty's tone grew cold. If Keith and Percy hadn't argued, perhaps Jericho would have chosen a Gryffindor student at random.
"I know you're not as bright and cheerful as you seem. There's a Slytherin cunningness hidden in you.
That doesn't bother me—I don't mind ambition. But we are only first-years, and you are just eleven! Playing Quidditch isn't worth using underhanded tactics against a fellow student, no matter how much you love the game."
Jericho suddenly raised his head, his lips trembling. "Mr. Moriarty, I…"
His voice caught in his throat, and Moriarty saw that his eyes were red.
"If you must rely on careful scheming for something this trivial, what will you do in the future?
Do you want to be a Quidditch star, or a coward hiding in the shadows?"
With those words, Moriarty turned and left, leaving Jericho alone to think.
When Moriarty returned to the common room, a large group of Slytherins gathered around him. Leon shook his head helplessly—he had wanted to establish his authority, but the first- and second-years listened to Moriarty instead.
That evening, Jericho and Ralbo returned to the dormitory late. Moriarty didn't say anything to them.
The next morning, he slept in for an extra hour—it was the weekend, after all.
After waking up, Moriarty headed straight to the library. He had books to return and planned to borrow some on ancient runes. Marcus Flint accompanied him.
Once inside, they parted ways.
Marcus buried himself in a copy of The Species of Fire Dragons in Britain and Ireland. He knew that reading about dragons might raise suspicions, so he also borrowed A Hippogriff's Psychological Handbook as a cover.
Moriarty found Advanced Rune Translation on a shelf.
A gentle, soft voice called from behind him. "Mr. Moriarty, are you planning to replace Professor Bathsheda Babbling as the new Ancient Runes professor?"
Gemma Farley stepped out from behind the bookshelf, holding An Easy Guide to Ancient Runes, her green eyes filled with playful resentment.
Moriarty chuckled. "Professor Babbling has a deep understanding of ancient runes. I'm more interested in practical applications."
Gemma nodded knowingly. Though she often acted cute and delicate, Moriarty knew she was quite bold. He recalled the topics she and Lilith had discussed at the Sorting Banquet.
Sure enough, her emerald eyes sparkled with mischief. She smiled sweetly. "I'm struggling with a few problems. Can you help me?"
Moriarty recognized the challenge in her gaze, but he wouldn't agree so easily. Instead, he proposed an exchange—her Transfiguration notes for his help. Gemma was ahead of even the third-years in Transfiguration.
She pouted. "You really don't like to lose, do you? Fine, wait here—I'll fetch them."
When Gemma returned, she found Moriarty sitting quietly at a table, reading.
But her Transfiguration notes were nowhere in sight.
"Moriarty, are you playing a joke on me?" she huffed, cheeks puffed in annoyance.
Moriarty took her notes without hesitation, flipping through a few pages. "Actually, I don't keep Transfiguration notes. There's nothing worth recording."
Before she could protest, he added, "But I wasn't playing tricks on you. I sent an article to Transfiguration Today. You'll see my theories published there soon."
Gemma's irritation faded into curiosity. "Are you serious? Are you sure they'll accept your work?"
She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table, her face inches from his.
Moriarty leaned back slightly, avoiding her intense gaze. "I'm completely sure. You'll see it next Wednesday. But I doubt it'll be of much use to you."
His research focused on elemental transformation—a concept he developed for himself. While it might inspire legendary wizards like Dumbledore or Voldemort, it would be difficult for Gemma to apply in combat.
However, Gemma seemed undeterred. She sat beside Moriarty, pretending to read but muttering under her breath. "Underestimate me, will you? Hmph…"
Suddenly, a sly smile spread across her face, as if she had thought of something amusing.
"I'll take your word for it," she said. "But now—" she grinned. "I have a few questions. You don't mind, do you?"
"Go ahead. Make me feel like I'm in a third-year class." Moriarty had almost finished her notes—aside from Professor McGonagall's Animagus demonstration, there wasn't much of interest.
Gemma fired off several challenging questions from their lessons last week, hoping to trip him up.
But Moriarty answered them all effortlessly in under two minutes.
Gemma sighed, admiration creeping into her expression. "Seriously, Moriarty, how do you always seem to know everything?"
Moriarty merely shook his head. He wasn't Dumbledore—he wouldn't waste time sharing experiences or giving motivational speeches.
Seeing his reluctance to explain, Gemma pouted. "You talk so much with Lilith, but barely say a word to me. Did you know people have started talking? They say you're always with Tonks in the morning and Lilith at noon."
"It's just school gossip. Don't take it seriously," Moriarty replied. "I suppose they also say I sit with Jericho in class and have Marcus at my side at night?"
Gemma giggled. "People are definitely paying attention to you. Many already see you as an idol. The girls even gave you a rather dramatic title."
"A title?" Moriarty raised an eyebrow.
"Yes! They call you 'Quidditch's Eternal Spark.'" She rested her chin on her hand, her voice turning dreamy. "Nothing lasts forever, but they believe you will. Isn't that an incredible name?"
Moriarty smirked. "I thought Lilith called me a 'Shining Meteor'?"
"That was her idea, but Tonks said 'meteor' sounded unlucky. So they changed it to 'eternal.' See? I was right—you always notice Lilith first."
Moriarty met her gaze. "That's just your perspective. In truth, I only focus on magic."
To prove his point, he explained, "Take ancient runes, for example. My boots—do you know why they can run as fast as Ralbo? They're alchemical artifacts with speed-enhancing enchantments. Now, I want to add a new function—jump enhancement."
Gemma eagerly took notes, treating Moriarty like a professor.
He continued, "So I study runes related to movement and jumping. Creating the effect requires knowledge from various subjects. That's how I approach learning—it must be targeted."
Gemma nodded. "I'll rethink my study habits. Thanks, Professor Moriarty—wait, that sounds odd, doesn't it?"
Then, she leaned in and whispered, "By the way, Professor McGonagall runs a secret Transfiguration Club. You'll find out soon enough."
Blushing, she hurried out of the library.
Moriarty, however, wasn't particularly interested.