Hogwarts' Golden Glory

The kerosene lamp fell to the ground with a "clatter," and Filch's hunched back suddenly straightened.

A morbid longing flashed in his cloudy eyes: "What...what did you say?"

Kane took a crystal bottle out of the dragon skin bag.

Inside, a silvery-blue liquid sloshed about, casting an eerie glow in the dimly lit corridor.

"The reason why Squibs cannot use magic..."

Kane's voice was as calm as Snape explaining a recipe in Potions class.

"It's because the magical energy pathways within the body are inherently closed, like a locked sluice gate."

He gently shook the potion, and fine golden threads appeared in the liquid. "This potion can temporarily open those passages."

Filch's withered fingers trembled as he reached for the medicine bottle, then abruptly pulled back just before touching it: "You...you're going to use me as a guinea pig?"

"To correct you," Kane smiled, "Mr. Filch, I'm giving you a choice."

He uncorked the bottle, and the medicine immediately released a misty vapor tinged with starlight. "Of course, you can also continue to be the administrator who cleans shackles for the rest of your life."

The old dud's Adam's apple bobbed as he stared intently at the wisp of mist.

Memories of being mocked for sixty years surged through his mind: the young wizards deliberately soiling the floor with magic in front of him, the teachers' polite yet distant way of addressing him, and the subtle expressions on the faces of the new students when they learned he was a Squib at the start of each school year...

"I...I'm willing to try!" Filch suddenly snatched the medicine bottle, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

The moment the medicine went down his throat, the old man suddenly arched his back and clutched his throat with his thin, dry fingers.

Kane calmly pulled out his pocket watch and counted: "Three, two, one—"

Filch suddenly straightened up, a glint of silver-blue light flashing in his cloudy eyes.

Kane nodded in satisfaction: "It seems the results are better than expected."

He handed Filch an old wand. "You can borrow it for now."

Filch raised his wand with trembling hands and pointed it at the overturned kerosene lamp on the ground.

"Fluorescent lights!"

A faint but real orb of light emanated from his fingertips, illuminating the mottled stone walls of the corridor.

Filch's tears rolled down his wrinkled face: "Merlin... Merlin..."

He kept repeating it, like a first-year student touching a magic wand for the first time.

"Try something else," Kane urged, encouraging the other person to continue trying.

He knew that this administrator had been secretly studying magic for a long time.

The other party knows perfectly well how these spells are cast.

"Clean, spotless!"

The tip of the cane emitted a faint but precise silver light, erasing a graffiti spot on the wall completely.

The old administrator made a strange sound that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh, and suddenly knelt down, trying to kiss the hem of Kane's robe.

"There's no need for that." Kane nudged his shoulder with the tip of his shoe. "I just need you to remember—the effects of this drug only last for a few days."

Filch's ecstatic expression froze instantly: "Only...only a few days?"

He didn't want his acquired abilities to become ineffective.

"That's true at the moment."

Kane continued, "But taking it once a week can theoretically gradually rebuild your magical circuits."

He leaned close to the old man's ear, "Of course, it depends on whether you're willing... to continue cooperating with my research."

An eerie silence fell over the corridor, broken only by the crackling of burning kerosene lamp wicks.

Filch's hunched figure cast a distorted shadow on the wall.

He stared at his fingers, which he had just used to cast the spell, his eyes flashing with madness and desire.

"I...I'd do anything!" he hissed, "even my soul—"

“A soul is unnecessary,” Kane chuckled. “All I need is your…loyalty.” He pulled a roll of parchment from his robes. “Come to the cellar every Friday night. Remember—”

"Sign your name on a piece of paper and bring it over. Don't forget."

"I...I swear," Filch said hoarsely, "in Merlin's name."

Kane nodded in satisfaction, and as he turned to leave, the hem of his robe fluttered in the wind.

Behind him, Filch was obsessively trying out the simplest glowing spell over and over again.

Each success brought a sickly gleam to the old man's cloudy eyes.

He grinned, revealing a long-lost smile: "See that, Mrs. Loris? I—Argus Filch—can use magic now!"

Lady Lorris gracefully leaped onto the armor base beside her, her amber eyes fixed curiously on the ball of light.

It stretched out its paw and tentatively touched the ball of light, its ears twitching in surprise at the warm touch.

"Don't be afraid, baby," Filch's voice was incredibly gentle.

He awkwardly waved his wand, trying to conjure a sprig of catnip. "Delicious... uh... delicious hair growth!"

The spell failed, only emitting a wisp of musty-smelling gray smoke.

This disappointed Filch.

Mrs. Lorris suddenly jumped back onto his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek affectionately.

"Sixty-three years have passed..."

He whispered to the cat, his fingers tracing the lines of the wand, "I never thought I'd be able to..."

"This is all thanks to young Master Malfoy..."

Kane, who had just delivered the potion to Filch, did not return!

Kane stood before the stone beast, his silver-blue eyes fixed on the Marauder's Map.

Dumbledore's name was indeed flashing in the headmaster's office.

After he recited the command "Lemon Olaf" and entered the other party's office via the spiral staircase.

The view above made him pause slightly.

Beside Fox's nest, Igor was gracefully preening his feathers.

The two phoenixes were exchanging some kind of silent communication.

Even more surprisingly, Professor Alder was sitting opposite Dumbledore.

He was toying with a silver chess piece that Kane had never seen before.

They looked at Kane with some surprise, like students who had done something wrong and were caught by the headmaster.

Kane has realized it now!

Professor Alder's name is not on the Marauder's Map at all!

"Ah, Kane." Dumbledore's blue eyes sparkled behind his half-moon spectacles. "You've come at the perfect time. Professor Ald just showed me an interesting game of wizard chess."

The other party seemed completely unconcerned about Kane violating the curfew.

Kane withdrew his gaze and cut to the chase: "Professor, there's a problem with Sirius Black's case."

An eerie silence fell over the office. Fox's tail feathers moved without any wind.

Igor then flew onto Kane's shoulder, his sharp gaze fixed on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore touched his fingertips together, his gaze behind his half-moon spectacles serious. "This is a very serious accusation. You know, Sirius Black already confessed. So, Kane, what evidence do you have?"

Kane pulled the Marauder's Map from inside his dragonskin robe and tapped it lightly with his wand: "I solemnly swear that I have done nothing wrong."

Every detail of Hogwarts immediately appeared on the parchment.

Kane spread the map on the headmaster's desk, pointing to the location of the Gryffindor Tower.

A dot marked "Peter Pedirou" was flashing slightly and rhythmically right next to Ron Weasley's name.