Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Its body stretched and deformed like clay, its front paws shimmering between human hands and rat paws, and pus and blood oozing from the missing toes.

But in the end, it only transformed halfway—a wrinkled human face abruptly appeared on the rat's body, with tears streaming from its left eye and its right eye flashing with insane malice.

"Kill me..." the twisted mouth writhed, "or the Dark Lord will find you..."

Kane's quill pen traced long lines of ink on the notebook: "Peter Pettigrew: Maintaining Animagus form for an extended period has led to a separation between body and soul... (likely a mental illness); the medication is ineffective."

A sliver of silver light flashed from the tip of Kane's wand.

He collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

When the spell struck the distorted human-rat hybrid face, Scabbers—or rather, Peter—convulsed violently.

Because the effects of the forced revealing agent had not completely worn off, the spell produced a strange reaction: the rat's fur rose and fell like the receding tide, and the facial features sank slowly like melting wax, eventually shrinking back into the form of a rat.

But those wrinkles didn't completely disappear; instead, they became faint grooves beneath the skin, as if something was still struggling beneath it.

Kane frowned and used silver tweezers to part the hair on Spot's back.

Beneath the gray fur, several patches of skin still retained a human pallor, like ugly patches.

"Record: The residual effect of the phenanthrene lasted for 12 minutes and 37 seconds, and the sleeping spell caused incomplete reversal of local deformities."

He read aloud, the quill pen automatically making notes in his notebook, "I suggest adding moonstone powder as a stabilizer next time..."

The spotted creature in the cage had fallen into a deep sleep, but its missing toe claws would still twitch from time to time, as if it were running in a nightmare.

Kane placed the cage aside; it was originally a place where Igor used to relax.

Igor let out a disgruntled cry, flapped its wings, and landed on Kane's shoulder, its blue tail feathers brushing against his cheek.

The phoenix chick gently pecked its owner's earlobe with its beak, its gray-blue eyes full of disdain.

"I know he's disgusting."

Kane reached out and stroked Igor's feathers. "But we need him to live—at least a few more days."

He took a small bottle of pearly-lustered potion from a hidden compartment in the bedside table and mixed it with water.

The liquid dissolves instantly in water, turning a pale silver color. I dripped three drops onto Banban's nose.

"An improved version of the Water of Life and Death," Kane explained to Igor, "enough to keep him unconscious until noon tomorrow, but without affecting his vital signs."

The phoenix tilted its head and looked at the mouse curled up in the cage, then suddenly spat out a small cluster of golden flames.

The flames didn't burn the cage, but instead coated the cage's surface with a thin layer of gold—Kane knew this was the phoenix's protective magic, which no dark magic creature could penetrate.

"Thank you." He gently patted Igor's head. "Now, we need to get ready to rest."

Kane turned and walked toward the desk, but after taking only two steps, he heard a faint scratching sound behind him.

He turned around abruptly—Banban in the cage was still fast asleep, but its missing right claw was moving on its own, leaving marks on the bottom of the cage.

Upon closer inspection, Kane's pupils contracted slightly: the marks formed a blurry, crooked skull pattern, with a small snake spitting out of its mouth.

The Black Magic Mark.

Kane quickly drew his wand and cast three shielding spells and a memory-confusing spell in quick succession.

The skull pattern gradually faded, but the scratches on the bottom of the cage were still slightly warm.

"It seems our test subjects are more interesting than we thought."

Kane's voice remained calm. "Igor, you'll be on watch tonight."

The phoenix raised its head, a golden glint flashing in its eyes, and the flame patterns on its tail feathers lit up.

It leaped to the top of the cage, looking down at the sleeping mouse like a guardian deity.

No wonder Peter Pettigrew was able to find Voldemort after escaping.

It turns out Voldemort had tampered with the other person's body!

He needs more data and more observations.

The rat must remain under control until the exact means of communication between Peter and Voldemort are confirmed.

The quill pen added another line to the notebook:

"Note: The test subject was still able to respond to the Black Magic Mark summoning while unconscious, possibly through a contract via limb residue. Further testing of the Black Magic Resistance potion is recommended."

After writing all this down, Kane went to rest.

The auditorium was filled with golden sunlight in the early morning, and the ceiling reflected the cloudless blue sky.

But a somber, oppressive atmosphere hung over the Gryffindor table.

As Harry stepped into the Great Hall, the noisy hall fell silent for a moment, followed by a burst of chatter.

Several third-year students at the Hufflepuff table were openly pointing at them and snickering.

The Ravenclaw students whispered among themselves, occasionally casting disdainful glances.

Meanwhile, in Slytherin, Marcus was tapping his wine glass with his silver fork, deliberately shouting, "A record broken, Gryffindor! One hundred and fifty points deducted in one day!"

"Shut up!"

Ron roared, his face flushed, but his voice was drowned out by a louder chorus of boos.

The Gryffindor table seemed to be under a separation spell—a "separation zone" of three seats was left empty around Harry, Ron, and Neville.

As Seamus Finigan passed by them, he deliberately spilled pumpkin juice on Ron's robes.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry," he said without any apology, "I didn't see the 'Shame of the Academy' sitting here."

Hermione suddenly appeared behind Harry, carrying a stack of books.

Without saying a word, she sat down in the empty seat next to Harry and slammed a copy of "The History of Magic" heavily on the table.

"You don't have to do that, Hermione."

Harry said softly, staring at the smoked meat on his plate, which was cold and hard as a rock, "There's no need for me to be ostracized along with us."

Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line: "Don't be silly."

She put a hot pie on everyone's plate. "Eat breakfast. We still need to prepare for Potions class."

Wood led the Quidditch team into the Great Hall, and Harry instinctively shrank back.

Unexpectedly, the captain walked straight up to them, his tall figure casting a shadow.

“Listen, Potter,” Wood’s voice was deep and serious, “you really did cost us 150 points.”

He paused, then suddenly reached out and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "But Gryffindor needs you more for next week's match against Hufflepuff. Don't let me down a second time."

Angelina peeked out from behind: "If this affects your flying ability, I'll smash your head in with a walking ball."

But she smiled slightly and handed over a plate of steaming sausages.

At the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang was looking this way with concern.

When Harry looked up, she hesitated for a moment, then suddenly stood up and walked over.

"Harry,"

Her voice was soft, and her dark eyes were full of concern. "I...I just wanted to say, don't pay too much attention to those gossips."

Her fingers unconsciously twirled through her long hair. "Last year, when our college came in last place in the tournament, I also..."

"Zhang!" her friend called from afar, "Come back for breakfast!"

Autumn's face flushed slightly as she quickly handed Harry a chocolate frog: "Good luck."

She finished speaking quietly and quickly left.

Ron stared in disbelief at the scene: "Merlin's Beard, you lost 150 points, and you still managed to get Cho Chang..."

"Shut up, Ron."

Hermione tapped him with the book, but a slight smile played on her lips.

Even Fred and George strolled over slowly, flanking Harry from both sides.

"Little Harry,"

Fred sighed insincerely, "Do you know how many years it took us to accumulate just two hundred points?"

George pulled out a piece of parchment: "This is the Weasley brothers' 'glorious history of deductions,' and it's now officially passed on to you."

The title on the paper was changed to "How to Ruin the Academy Cup in One Day - by Fred X George Masterclass".

Harry felt a weight lift from his chest as he looked at their comforting words.