Harry Potter, the savior of Night City

Since that night, Harry and his friends went out at night several more times, but each time, various accidents occurred just before they were about to find clues. Harry began to suspect that some unknown idiot was tampering with things.

Hermione's spirits were getting worse each night, and Harry and the others were now afraid she might suddenly die, so the night outings were abandoned.

Days passed by, and soon it was the day before Halloween.

The corridors were filled with the aroma of roasted pumpkin, and in the auditorium, there were also occasional roasted pumpkin pies that were accidentally left on the tables ahead of time because there were too many things to prepare. Although they would disappear instantly, a certain savior who liked to drive his Sinweistan always managed to snatch one before it vanished.

"Want a slice?" Harry picked up the pumpkin pie he had grabbed and cut two slices with his fork, handing them to Hermione and Ron.

"Thank you." Hermione said to Harry without turning her head, holding a notebook in her hand, while eating pumpkin pie and keeping her eyes glued to the notebook.

"Mmm, thank you, chew chew chew," Ron mumbled a thank you as he chewed the pumpkin pie in his mouth.

Harry turned to look at Hermione, sensing that something was off about her these past few days. Whether eating or in class, she always had a notebook in her hand. When Harry activated his prosthetic eye and gained the ability of the Machine Spirit, he noticed that the notebook in Hermione's hand was emitting a faint blue light that was slowly seeping into Hermione's brain.

Harry had considered taking Hermione's notebook, but it was no use. Taking the notebook would only make Hermione more dazed, so he simply gave it back to her. At least she could still live a normal life with it.

Slytherin had no classes in the morning, and Old Man Dennis once again asked a bat to call Harry away to ask about recent events, while Hermione and Ron quickly finished their meal, since Gryffindor had Professor Flitwick's Charms class in the morning.

In a spells class.

Professor Flitwick stood atop a pile of books, waiting for all the students.

"Alright, now, let's begin the lesson!" Professor Flitwick waved his wand, and a box beside him opened, with feathers flying out to each of them. "I think you're all at a level where you can make things fly." With that, he waved his wand at the ink bottle in front of him, and the ink bottle flew into the air.

Every student was captivated by the scene, except for Hermione, who was holding notes. Professor Flitwick divided them into pairs and, in the final stages of preparation, reminded them: "Remember, the spell is 'Yugardim, Leviosa.' Pay close attention to the gestures and pronunciation. That wizard named Balfio pronounced the 'f' as an 's' and ended up summoning a bison that trampled him into the floor."

Everyone was practicing hard, but no matter how loudly they shouted the incantation, the feather remained completely still—unless Seamus blew it off.

Hermione was still looking at the notes in her hand, while Ron across from her struck various poses in hopes of making the feather fly, but the result was obvious: the feather didn't move at all.

"Oh, Hermione, could you please stop looking at your notes?" Ron lay on the table, looking at Hermione. Seeing that Hermione didn't react, Ron's brain started working for the first time. "Professor Flitwick's task isn't finished yet. Wouldn't it be better to get extra points after completing it?" He decided to use the house points to attract her.

Hermione took the bait. She slowly put down the notebook, her eyes gleaming with blue light. A triangle encircled her pupil, with a central rod in the center of the pupil. Two snakes coiled around the rod, and a pair of wings grew from the top of the rod. The whole picture appeared so balanced, perfectly balanced, perfectly symmetrical.

She didn't speak, but looked down at the feather in front of her, stretched out her finger, and hooked the feather. The feather slowly rose and hovered in mid-air. Professor Flitwick jumped down from the pile of books and ran over quickly. He jumped up in surprise when he saw this.

"Perfect, absolutely perfect! Look, everyone! Perfect silent, wandless spellcasting! My dear, you're a genius! Gryffindor +30."

Hermione didn't say anything, still using the notebook to cover her face. The feather, having lost its supporting force, slowly fell onto the table.

Ron's eyes widened in disbelief.

After class, Ron walked beside Hermione and asked her all sorts of questions. At first, Hermione would nod in response, but later she must have gotten annoyed by his questions and stopped giving him any replies.

Ron was annoyed by Hermione's disregard, but basically no matter what he said, Hermione wouldn't listen. So he simply said, "If you want to watch, find a quiet place to watch. Watching here is annoying." Then he quickly left.

"A quiet place..." Hermione murmured. She paused for a moment, then turned and walked toward a certain place.

Meanwhile, Harry, who had been called away by a certain old man, was being questioned in the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore pushed the candy in front of Harry, then brewed a cup of black tea, put ten sugar cubes in it, and handed it to Harry.

"Hey, hey, I think there are plenty of ways to kill me, there's no need to make me choke to death." Harry looked at the almost honey-thickened black tea in front of him with a somewhat distorted expression.

Dumbledore reluctantly took the tea back, took a sip amidst Harry's contorted expression, then popped a piece of candy into his mouth before asking Harry,

"Any new developments in Quirrell lately?"

"No, I don't know what's wrong with him lately, he hasn't called me at all. The only thing I've told him so far is that he knows the Philosopher's Stone is in some secret room at school."

Dumbledore nodded, popped another candy into his mouth, and instead of continuing the conversation about Quirrell, changed the subject, "And you, how far have you and your friends gotten in your investigation of the Philosopher's Stone?"

Harry sat up straight and stared at Dumbledore. "Old man, are you spying on me?"

"No, no, no, don't misunderstand, I'm just showing concern for my dear student."

"Don't try to twist my words!" Harry's mantis knife snapped out of his arm, his muscles tensing, ready to strike. "Spying on me isn't part of the mandate."

"Calm down, calm down, Harry." Dumbledore raised his hand to reassure Harry. "I'm just a little concerned about your nighttime outings, I really don't have any bad ideas."

"That time, when everything suddenly went black and I found myself in another corridor, was that your doing?!"

"Harry, you are incredibly perceptive, almost unbelievably so," Dumbledore applauded Harry. "It was me."

"However, I will give you extra commission fees for these additional tasks," Dumbledore said, looking at the mantis knife that was about to pierce his forehead.

"You should have said so earlier." Harry smiled and slowly sheathed his mantis knife. "So, where exactly is 'there'?"

"On the fourth floor, in that secret room, I believe you saw that big dog. You beat it quite badly; our hunting ground guards are heartbroken."

"So, what are you up to now?" Harry felt that this old bee was definitely up to no good.

"I think..." (A whisper that even the author couldn't hear drifted by.)

Are you sure he'll take the bait?

"He'll definitely take the bait."

Dumbledore looked at Harry, his eyes gleaming.

"The plan is good, but it's dangerous, so..." Harry rubbed his fingers together.

"I understand, I won't renege on my promise." Dumbledore nodded. "Now, you should go back and prepare for the Halloween party."

"And one more thing: on the path of exploring the soul, do not go astray."