Hogwarts' Golden Glory

"Approved." Scrimgeour waved. "Get ready now. I want to see the results in two weeks."

Kingsley bowed and turned to leave the office. His steps were steady, but his heart was far from at peace.

Leaving the Department of Fantastic Creatures Control, he went straight to the elevator and pressed the button for "Ninth Floor, Department of Mysteries." As the elevator descended, he took out a specially made communication mirror from his pocket—a gift from Moody, with an encryption level three levels higher than standard Auror equipment.

The mirror shimmered, revealing Moody's face.

"Scrimgeour is suspicious," Kingsley whispered. "He's sent me to investigate for two weeks."

Moody frowned in the mirror: "Can we stall?"

"Three weeks at most. Scrimgeour isn't Fudge; he's stubborn and paranoid." Kingsley paused. "I need the exact magical parameters of that valley to fabricate the environmental analysis report."

"I'll contact Kane. But you'd better be careful, Kingsley. Scrimgeour might be testing you too."

"I know," Kingsley nodded, "but I know what I'm doing. By the way, what about Headmaster Dumbledore...?"

"He knows. His attitude is... to turn a blind eye. As long as it doesn't provoke a large-scale conflict, he won't interfere."

The elevator doors opened; they had arrived at the ninth floor. Kingsley put away his communication scope, took a deep breath, and walked towards the doors of the Department of Mysteries.

He needed to borrow the environmental magic analyzer—and then "accidentally" tune it to a specific frequency so that it could only detect the "safe data" that Kane had preset.

This is a dangerous game. If Scrimgeour discovers he's making false reports, his Auror career is over, and he might even end up in Azkaban.

But Kingsley remembered what Moody had told him: for the first time, the werewolves had a home in the Moonshadow League; for the first time, the children weren't afraid during the full moon; and for the first time, the elders dared to plan for the future...

He remembered his great-grandfather, a pitiful man who was expelled from his family after his werewolf identity was exposed and eventually died in an alley.

Kingsley clenched his fist.

Some risks are worth taking.

He pushed open the door to the Department of Mysteries, his face now bearing a professional and calm expression.

"Good afternoon, Professor Krock. I need to access the S-7 Environmental Magic Analyzer; the Minister has granted special permission..."

The game has begun.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the chessboard, Kane Malfoy was completely unaware that he had simultaneously become Voldemort's prey, Dumbledore's object of observation, and the target of the Ministry of Magic's investigation.

But he will soon find out.

Because storms never come when people are ready.

It always arrives suddenly, testing everyone involved.

And Kane Malfoy, this thirteen-year-old boy, will make his own choice amidst this storm of multi-party power struggles.

That choice will change the fate of many people—including his own.

Deep within the East Wing library, Kane almost buried himself in the piles of parchment.

Armand Malfoy's notebook lay open on the left, while on the right was the snakeskin-bound collection of letters, just retrieved from a hidden compartment in the secret chamber. The cover of the collection was worn so badly that the titles were illegible, but the ink on the inner pages remained clear—written with special magical ink that was said to last for a thousand years without fading.

Kane carefully turned the fragile pages. The correspondence spanned thirty years, beginning five years before Salazar Slytherin left Hogwarts and ending three months before his complete disappearance. The other party in the correspondence was Kane's distant ancestor, Cassius Malfoy—the patriarch of the Malfoy family at that time and one of the few Slytherin friends with whom he still maintained contact.

[The first letter, around 993 AD]

"My friend Cassius: "

Hogwarts is built, yet my heart is filled with unease. Godric insists on accepting disciples indiscriminately, regardless of bloodline; Rowena is obsessed with the transmission of wisdom, neglecting the essence; Helga seeks only harmony, resulting in excessive compromise. Our original intention in founding this school—to preserve the purity of the wizarding bloodline and pass on the ancient essence of magic—is being forgotten.

Tonight, deep beneath the castle, I have opened a secret chamber, not to hide monsters (that's just a rumor), but to preserve the original research manuscripts of the four founders. Beyond this chamber, however, lies an even deeper place—I call it the "Echo Chamber." There lie our most fundamental reflections on the nature of magic, touching upon the source of magical power, the secrets of bloodlines, and even… the possibility of immortality.

However, not everyone can enter this place. One needs the "Bloodline Key"—a direct descendant of the four founders, or someone whose bloodline carries a special resonance. I have already placed the strongest protection on it; even a thousand years later, only those who are compatible will be able to enter.

If any outstanding members of the Malfoy family emerge in the future, they may use this letter as a guide to try and find echoes within. But remember: the knowledge contained within can either usher in a new era or bring about destruction. Be careful, be careful.

—Salazar Slytherin

Kane held his breath and continued flipping through the pages. In subsequent communications, Slytherin became increasingly paranoid, and his conflicts with the other three founders deepened, but more and more clues about the "Between of Echoes" also emerged:

Letter 47 (1001): Slytherin described in detail the protective mechanism between echoes—not a simple magical lock, but a "bloodline resonance detection." Only those whose magical energy fluctuations are highly compatible with at least one of the four founders can trigger the entrance.

Letter 89 (1013): Slytherin mentions that before leaving Hogwarts, he left behind his complete research manuscript on "bloodline purification" in the Echo Chamber. He believes that the wizarding bloodline is degenerating and needs some kind of "external stimulus" to awaken the dormant ancient magic.

The last letter (1018, three months before Slytherin's disappearance): "Cassius, if you receive this letter, it means I have met with misfortune or have gone far away. The entrance to the Echoes is in the deepest part of the castle's crypt, but its exact location changes over time, like the cycle of the moon's phases. The entrance will only appear under specific celestial combinations—the next opportunity will be in seventy-nine years, when the Malfoy family has a suitable descendant to attempt entry. What is contained within may answer your questions about the limitations of bloodline magic..."

It's not "unstable magic," nor "bloodline atavism," but "limitation"—a word with a completely different meaning. Limitation means shackles, a ceiling, a barrier that is either deliberately set up or naturally formed.

Kane's fingers were a little cold. He quickly flipped through copies of Cassius Malfoy's replies, his fingertips almost tearing through the fragile parchment. In the third-to-last letter, he found a clue—this time, he read it more carefully:

Salazar:

I have been repeatedly testing my magic power limit recently.