Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Harry dragged his heavy steps up the spiral staircase of the Gryffindor Tower.

Every step I took felt like stepping on my own heart.

The portrait of the fat lady flickered before my eyes; she seemed to want to say something.

But seeing the three boys' pale faces, he simply sighed and silently opened the entrance.

A few dim lights were still on in the common room, and the fire in the fireplace was almost extinguished, leaving only dark red embers.

"We're fucked."

Ron suddenly said that the voice sounded like it was coming from a very far place.

He slumped into the armchair closest to the door, his red hair sticking up in a messy, disheveled manner.

"150 points...my mom will kill me."

He still remembered the yelling letter the other party had sent him last time.

Neville stood in front of the fireplace, his round face appearing exceptionally pale in the flickering firelight.

"It's...it's all my fault..."

His voice was barely audible, "If I hadn't said I was going to find Hagrid... if I hadn't brought up the unicorn tears..."

"It's not your fault, Neville," Harry said dryly, his throat tight. "We all agreed to go."

"But it was I who made the suggestion!"

Neville suddenly raised his voice, his eyes glistening with tears, "And...and you don't need to come with me to ask about the unicorn tears...that's what my parents need..."

Ron suddenly looked up, a complex emotion flashing in his blue eyes.

"Don't be silly, Longbottom. We're from the same house, of course we should help each other..."

His voice suddenly stopped, as if he suddenly realized how ridiculous he had said—they had just ruined the entire academy's chance.

Harry stared at the last embers in the fireplace, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

They just wanted to go see Hagrid's Dragonnor again and ask about the unicorn tears.

Kane told Neville a few days ago that the tears of a unicorn had a miraculous effect on Neville's parents, who had been receiving ineffective treatment at St. Mungo's.

"That damned Malfoy!"

Ron suddenly slammed his fist on the sofa armrest. "He's definitely messing with us! We don't even know if the unicorn tears thing is real or not! And then Filch and Professor McGonagall came tonight. I bet he deliberately provoked us to break the school rules!"

"But... I feel like the unicorn tears thing is real."

Neville whispered, trying to find a glimmer of hope.

"What's the use?"

"Hagrid also said he could only try, but you should know that what you want is not their fur, but their tears."

Ron interrupted him bitterly, "And now Gryffindor is almost four hundred points behind Slytherin! Even if we find a hundred bottles of unicorn tears, we still can't close that gap!"

Neville's shoulders slumped, and tears finally welled up and rolled silently down his round face.

Harry wanted to say something, but all the words of comfort stuck in his throat.

He recalled the cheers that erupted from the entire Gryffindor table when Dumbledore announced the rules of the House Cup at the opening ceremony;

I remember Wood shouting "Fight for the Academy Cup!" every time he trained;

I remember Hermione telling Neville, while she was helping him review Potions late into the night, "Every point counts, and never mess with Snape..."

Now, because of their impulsive actions, all of everyone's efforts have been in vain.

"Tomorrow..." Harry began with difficulty, "tomorrow everyone will hate us."

Ron let out a sound that was somewhere between a sneer and a sob.

"Fred and George will 'admire' us for breaking their penalty record...Percy will probably never talk to me again..."

Neville rubbed his eyes hard with the back of his hand, but new tears immediately welled up again.

"My grandmother...she will definitely receive Professor McGonagall's letter..."

The last embers in the fireplace went out with a "pop," and darkness completely enveloped the three boys.

No one suggested lighting the lamps, and no one moved. They just sat there, letting the heavy guilt gnaw at their hearts like a Dementor.

In Kane's dormitory.

Moonlight seeped in through the glass window from the bottom of the Black Lake.

Banban was kept in a birdcage that had been enchanted with a traceless stretching spell—it appeared to be only the size of a palm, but had three separate compartments inside.

Kane sat on the edge of the bed covered with dark green silk sheets, tapping the cage door lightly with his wand, the silver chains making a soft clicking sound.

"Stop pretending to be asleep, Pediru."

Kane's voice was soft, yet it sent a shiver down the spine of the rat in the cage.

I know you can understand every word.

He took out three small crystal bottles from a hidden compartment in the bedside table; the bottles shimmered with different colors under the dim blue magic light.

The first bottle was a murky grayish-green, much like sewage in a sewer.

"An improved version of basic truth serum."

Kane scooped out half a drop with a silver spoon and dripped it onto the tip of Blemish's nose. "I added some Babo tuber pus to enhance its permeability."

The mouse's body tensed instantly, its gray fur bristling like a hedgehog.

"Let me tell you about what happened back then."

Its eyes darted around wildly, and three seconds later it suddenly let out a shrill human voice:

"I didn't mean to... The Dark Lord forced me... Sirius wanted to kill me..."

Kane quickly jotted down notes in his Advanced Potions Experiment Notes with his quill pen: "Dosage 10%, full effect."

He glanced at the cage and saw that Banban was gnawing on its front paw, with dark red blood seeping from the missing toe.

Kane continued taking notes.

"It may have hallucinogenic effects."

There was a sudden knock on the dormitory door. Kane waved his wand, and all the potion bottles disappeared instantly.

Draco's lazy voice came from outside the door:

"My mother sent another box of pastries, would you like some?"

"No need," Kane interrupted, simultaneously casting a silence spell on Scabbers with his wand. "I'm going to sleep."

Wait until the footsteps faded away.

He then pulled out a second vial of medicine from his sleeve—a bright red liquid with golden particles suspended in it, like a sealed sunset.

"Interesting little inventions,"

Kane dipped his silver needle in the liquid.

The moment the needle pierced the mouse's back, countless tiny black lines suddenly appeared beneath its mottled fur.

Kane nodded in satisfaction at the results.

"Hmm..." Kane paused, "There's no contamination yet..."

At that moment, Ig, who was perched on the bedpost, suddenly let out an unhappy chirp.

The phoenix shook its feathers, turned its head to one side, and even disdainfully tucked its tail feathers together.

It was as if the cage contained not rats, but a lump of rotting, yin corpse flesh.

"Just bear with it a little longer."

Kane flicked his finger and sent out a cluster of flames transformed from phoenix tail feathers, burning away the experimental residue. "It'll be over soon."

The third potion was eerily transparent and contained in a glass bottle engraved with snake patterns.

As soon as Kane opened the bottle, all the candles in the dormitory turned a ghostly green.

"Finally... my exclusive formula." He rarely smiled, but there was a rare smirk on his face. "Forced developing agent."

Three drops of the medicine landed on Banban's head, and the mouse instantly let out a baby-like cry.