Hogwarts' Golden Glory

"Professor Alder," Dumbledore interrupted softly, the temperature in his blue eyes suddenly dropping.

A moment of silence.

Dumbledore turned to Kane, his gaze behind his half-moon spectacles softening yet sharpening: "Kane, are you sure you can keep an eye on Peter? He is, after all,..."

Although Kane had agreed to let Fudge have Lucius look after Peter, the other man was still somewhat useful to Kane.

So Kane had already discussed it with Dumbledore, and Dumbledore would take care of Peter.

"A skilled Animagus?" Kane replied calmly.

Kane pulled an exquisite silver cage model from his sleeve, engraved with ancient runes: "Anti-Animagus Cage, combining ancient runes and modern alchemy."

With a gentle touch, the cage unfolded into a three-dimensional projection, "each bar was imbued with the Threading Charm and the Anti-Apparition Charm."

Professor Alder suddenly leaned forward, a strange glint in his eyes: "Interesting... You used the Norse school of binding runes?"

"It's been improved," Kane replied cautiously. "I found inspiration in 'The Darkest Magic: Defense,' but I removed the dark magic elements."

"Clever." A glint flashed in Ald's gold-rimmed glasses. "However, the Soul Anchoring Technique mentioned in Chapter Seven is even more effective—of course, it requires proper...adjustments."

Dumbledore's gaze shifted between the two: "Professor Alder, I don't think discussing Dark Arts texts is..."

"It's just an academic discussion, Albus."

Ald waved his hand gracefully.

Even so, Dumbledore was still somewhat worried.

Dumbledore's brow remained furrowed: "If he escapes—"

"He won't."

Kane raised his hand, and a vial of pearly-lustered potion slid out from his sleeve. "An improved version of the Water of Life and Death, enough to keep him unconscious for a month. And..."

He whistled softly, and a red and blue light swept in from the window, landing on his shoulder—the phoenix Ig shook its tail feathers, its sharp eyes staring directly at Dumbledore.

"Igor will protect him."

Kane stroked the phoenix's feathers. "No fluctuation of dark magic can escape the phoenix's perception."

Alder suddenly chuckled, his slender fingers twirling his wand: "Albus, you still have such a strong protective instinct towards young people."

His gaze swept over Kane. "This kid is far more dangerous than you think."

Kane's pupils contracted slightly—Old's tone when he said "danger" sounded more like praise than criticism.

Dumbledore sighed and walked to the Pensieve.

The silver light illuminated his weary face: "Peter holds too many secrets... about Voldemort, about the dark magic he used back then..."

"That's why it's safer to keep an eye on him at Hogwarts," Kane said with unusual firmness. "After all, you can't Apparate in and out of here."

Ig suddenly let out a clear chirp, shaking a few sparks from its feathers.

Dumbledore watched as the sparks formed an ancient rune in the sky—"Oath."

"It seems Phoenix has already vouched for you."

Dumbledore finally smiled slightly. "Alright, but you must report to me every day."

Kane gave a graceful bow: "Of course, Headmaster."

Olde suddenly stood up, his black robe billowing behind him like a dark cloud. "In that case," he said, "I should go prepare for tomorrow's lessons." He paused at the door. "Oh, right, Kane..."

A hint of amusement flashed in the heterochromatic eyes behind the gold-rimmed glasses: "Your improved Water of Life and Death... you added moonstone powder?"

Kane's breath hitched almost imperceptibly for a second: "How come—"

"I saw a similar formula in Vienna in 1943, but..." He paused meaningfully, "...it added Thestral tail hairs."

Dumbledore's fingers trembled slightly on the table: "Professor Old, those experiments have been proven to be dangerous."

The other side originally wanted to create an army of the undead through this method, placing the victims in a life-or-death situation, turning them into absolutely obedient puppets.

Fortunately, it failed in the end.

"Of course, of course." Olde rose gracefully. "It's just an academic exchange."

He walked towards the door, his black robe billowing behind him like a dark cloud. "It's a good thing that young people have an innovative spirit, Albus. After all..."

He paused at the door, his gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses fixed on Kane: "The most dangerous magic often arises from the purest thirst for knowledge."

After the door closed, a brief silence fell over the office.

Kane keenly noticed the unusually complex look in Dumbledore's eyes as he stared at the Pensieve.

"Headmaster..." Kane began cautiously, "Professor Alder seems to have some knowledge of ancient magic..."

"Professor Old has...a unique research perspective," Dumbledore interrupted softly.

"But there are some areas that we shouldn't get too involved in, even for defensive purposes."

He handed her a box of Lemon Olaf. "Now, let's discuss your guard plan in detail."

Kane gently closed the principal's office door, and a rustling sound immediately came from the shadows in the corridor.

Rita Skeeter emerged from behind the stone pillar, her crocodile-skin handbag trembling slightly, three quill pens poised to fire.

As Kane Malfoy approached.

She deliberately let the scent of Chanel No. 5 linger in the air for three extra seconds—a common tactic she used to test her prey.

"Young Master Malfoy~"

Her voice was sickeningly sweet, and the chain of her gold-rimmed glasses jingled.

"Could we do you a brief interview? About your feat of exposing Peter Pettigrew..."

She wanted to know how the young wizard knew about her Animagus.

After all, no one else knew about this except her, which was her secret to obtaining those insider information!

Kane didn't stop, and said coldly, "Then come with me, Ms. Skeeter."

They found a meeting room, and Kane waved his wand, causing the door to click shut automatically.

The soundproofing spells spread across the walls like a spider web.

Seeing Kane's spellcasting skills, Rita's smile froze for a moment, but she quickly put on a professional fake smile again.

Kane finished doing all that and then sat down.

Rita Skeeter leaned back on the leather sofa in the reception room.

The crocodile-skin handbag was open, and three gilded stenographer quills floated on the parchment, ready to be used.

"My dear Lord Malfoy~"

Her coral-nail-painted fingers tapped lightly on the water glass on the table.

"Thank you for granting this exclusive interview with The Daily Prophet. Would you like some water?"

Then he filled the glass with water and handed it to Kane.

Kane ignored the other party's actions.

A barely perceptible smile curved the corners of his lips.

"I thought we should talk about your former Animagus form," he said softly, "eavesdropping for twenty minutes at Malfoy Manor?"

Rita's false eyelashes trembled slightly, but her smile remained unchanged.

"What an amusing joke~ There are only seven Animaguss registered with the Ministry of Magic, I'm afraid..."

But her heart was already gripped by something terrible.