The wheelchair-bound warrior is speedrunning Hogwarts.

She stroked the cat's warm fur, listened to the fading sound of rain outside the window, and slowly closed her eyes.

I hope tomorrow will be a good day.

Chapter Twelve: Halloween is Never a Good Day (Bounty 6.5k)

On Halloween morning, the weather finally cleared up.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, filling the castle with a festive atmosphere.

The corridor was filled with the sweet aroma of pumpkin pies, the armor was polished to a gleaming shine, and the place was decorated with moving bats and jack-o'-lanterns.

The auditorium was decorated even more lavishly, with golden plates reflecting the candlelight, and breakfast was more plentiful than usual.

Vera slept well last night and looked exceptionally calm today.

She quietly enjoyed her breakfast, listening to her classmates excitedly discussing the evening's banquet and the so-called Skull Dance Troupe.

"I heard those skeletons can do some really weird dance moves!" Ron mumbled, his mouth full of sausage.

"I just hope they don't throw bones into the pumpkin soup," Harley joked with a smile, her eyes full of curiosity.

Hermione, on the other hand, seemed more pragmatic: "I've done my research, and those skeletons are sentient, so there shouldn't be any safety issues... But I'm still more looking forward to the pudding tonight."

Vera listened to their discussion with a faint smile on her lips: "Well, I prefer the last raspberry ice cream."

Hermione glanced at her thoughtfully, then leaned closer and whispered, "Then tonight... don't be absent."

Upon hearing this, Vera instinctively turned her head and met her rather serious eyes.

As expected, you're still so perceptive.

“Okay,” she said with a smile, “I’ll be there on time.”

Vera slowly finished the last bite of her fried egg, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and asked, "What are your plans for today?"

Harry stretched: "We'll have class as usual in the morning, but how about we go out together in the afternoon—"

“Come with me to the greenhouse,” Hermione interjected. “Professor Sprout said the greenhouse will be open this afternoon so we can observe how mandrakes react under different light conditions. That’s a bonus.”

“…Huh?” Harley was stunned for a moment, her face turning somewhat bitter. “Hermione, can you please stop being so studious?”

"Go if you want, or don't."

"Okay, okay, anything is negotiable as long as it adds points!" Harley had no choice but to compromise. "But I'll only stay for half an hour!"

Vera couldn't help but cover her mouth and laugh at their antics, until she was met with Harley's resentful gaze, at which point she quickly coughed lightly and said, "I have something to do this afternoon, sorry."

Harley frowned and immediately leaned closer, asking, "What's wrong? Do you need help?"

“It’s a personal matter,” Vera said vaguely, avoiding her probing gaze, “and it will be taken care of soon.”

Hermione glanced at Vera thoughtfully, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just pursed her lips.

She gently touched Harley's arm: "Okay, let's hurry up and go to class. The first period is Charms, don't be late."

Harley reluctantly stood up, went behind her and nudged her, saying earnestly, "Then it's a promise, you have to come to the dinner!"

"Definitely," Vera promised softly.

The morning classes were spent in a pre-holiday-like atmosphere of excitement.

In Charms class, Professor Flitwick had to raise his voice to drown out the students' whispers; in History of Magic class, even more students were asleep than usual.

After lunch, the whole school was on holiday. Vera said goodbye to Hach and went to the eighth floor of the castle alone.

After walking back and forth three times, the door to the House of Requirement quietly reappeared.

She pushed her wheelchair to the workbench and took out the two most special crystal lenses from the bottom of the wheelchair.

According to the castle's clues, these two crystals were supposedly left here by a student who secretly studied alchemy hundreds of years ago.

It just seemed that the senior student had failed, so he simply packed up all the remaining precious alchemy materials and threw them into the House of Requirement, just to avoid seeing them and worrying about them.

It was a bargain for her hundreds of years later.

If fate allows, she can burn some incense for her senior.

She adjusted her breathing, and a barely perceptible golden light shone on her skin. The Source Reshaping was activated again, and her vision and hand stability were enhanced to the extreme.

The tip of the wand condensed into highly concentrated threads of magic, finer than a human hair, and carefully reached for the strange crystal lens.

This was an even more difficult process than last night.

The magical structure inside this crystal is more complex and active, requiring extremely high precision in the infusion and etching of magic. Any tiny mistake could lead to the failure of all previous efforts and damage to this precious material.

She had previously used other crystals as test subjects in order to become more proficient and skilled at the process.

The wand continued to operate, and sweat gradually seeped from her forehead, sliding down her cheeks.

She focused all her attention on the exquisite manipulation of the magic at her fingertips, guiding it to construct the intricate and powerful miniature protective array within the crystal.

Time passed slowly in absolute focus.

After an unknown amount of time, the moment the last magical rune perfectly closed at the crystal core, the entire lens suddenly lit up!

The stardust-like silver specks inside seemed to be activated, flowing rapidly along the newly formed magical patterns, emitting a soft and stable silver halo that illuminated the entire dim room for a moment.

Immediately, the light subsided, and everything returned to normal.

It worked!

Vera let out a long, relieved breath, and then felt a wave of intense mental exhaustion wash over her.

She pinched her aching brow hard, only then belatedly realizing that her magic was almost completely depleted.

Thankfully, it didn't disappoint.

She carefully picked up the completed lens and examined it closely against the light.

The lens was clear and bright, with silver specks inside that flowed slowly like living things, radiating a reassuring magical aura.

She took out the eyeglass frames she had prepared beforehand; they were lightweight frames similar to goggles, made of supple dragon skin and refined, forged metal parts.

The dragon skin was left over from when Hemera shed her skin. She took some and gave the rest to Hagrid, asking him to help retrieve these metal parts.

To prevent Hagrid from becoming suspicious, she even used her own wheelchair as a shield, saying it was a spare part for the wheelchair.

Next, she carefully inlaid the two processed crystal lenses, and a pair of protective glasses that looked somewhat peculiar but were of vital importance was finally completed.

The completed goggles don't look particularly impressive. Only when viewed closely in the light can one faintly see the incredibly complex silver patterns that have been permanently solidified by magic, flowing slowly as if they were alive.

She put on the somewhat peculiar-looking goggles with their slightly thick lenses, adjusted the dragon-skin straps to make sure they were secure and comfortable.

The vision is clear through the lens, without any distortion or chromatic aberration, as if there were no barriers.

But when she tried to infuse a trace of magic, a faint silver light flashed across the inside of the lens, and the miniature protective arrays were quietly activated, as if they could block all external prying eyes.

Only after completing it did she finally have the confidence to face the basilisk's gaze.

She removed her goggles and carefully placed them into a protective pocket in the side pocket of her wheelchair.

After doing all this, she felt a wave of exhaustion and weakness from the depletion of her magic.

After resting for a while against the back of her wheelchair, she slowly regained her magic.

With the double blessing of the unicorn and Hogwarts, Vera's recovery of magic was accelerated to a new level.

There was still some time before her agreed-upon time with Tom, enough time for her to rest.

She leaned back in her wheelchair for a moment, feeling the magic slowly returning like a gentle stream.

With the blessing of the unicorn and the ancient magical environment of Hogwarts, the depleted circuits are replenishing at a rate far exceeding usual.

Incidentally, she also glanced at her current ability panel:

[Name: Vera Black]

[Age: 12 years old]

[属性：力（4）敏（2）魔（4）智（7）魅（8）幸（2）]

[Ancient Magic Learning Status: Multicast (Intermediate), Source Reshaping (Beginner)]

[Current Magic Circuit Level: Mastery - Intermediate (265/300)]

[Mana Reserves: 33/240]

[Mana Regeneration Speed: 44/hour]

[Ancient Magic Learning Status: Multicast (Intermediate), Source Reshaping (Beginner)]

[Talents: Shadow Affinity (Black Bloodline Talent), Ancient Magic Affinity]

[Magic Circuit Skills: Circuit Vision, Basic Healing, Mana Tracing]

Although she practiced spells with Kreacher every day during the summer vacation, the fairy's magic was not to be underestimated. Without going all out, she fought for two months and lost more than she won, and her magic reserves did not increase much.

Fortunately, her magic recovery speed has increased slightly, and she will soon be back to normal.

With the appointed time with Tom Riddle drawing ever closer, and seeing that her magic had mostly recovered, Vera finally took out the diary, closed her eyes, and let her consciousness sink into her mental anchor.

Within the anchor point space, Tom Riddle's figure materialized and appeared almost the instant she entered.

He seemed to have taken special care of his appearance today; his black hair was perfectly styled, and his handsome face wore an impeccable, expectant smile.

But in those unfathomable black eyes, the urgency was almost impossible to completely conceal.

“You’ve arrived, Miss Sail.” His voice was deep and pleasant, as if he had been waiting for a long time. “I can’t wait to show you the greatness left behind by Salazar Slytherin.”

The fake Vera in the anchor point perfectly displayed a nervous yet expectant expression, her hands nervously twisting together: "Are you really sure it's safe there? We're just going to take a look, right?"

“Of course, my dear friend.” Tom’s smile deepened, his tone full of reassurance and enticement. “I swear on my honor that you will not be harmed in any way.”

As he spoke, he gracefully extended his hand to her.

Fake Vera hesitated for a moment, but finally placed her trembling hand lightly in his palm.

Tom immediately gripped her hand tightly, his voice carrying a seductive power: "Relax, follow my guidance... First, we need to go to a girls' restroom on the second floor."

In reality, Vera's true form remains highly vigilant.

She felt a cold, viscous magic emanating from the diary as Tom spoke, attempting to entangle and control her body.

But the moment it touched her body, that power was once again silently blocked and deflected by the blessing of Hogwarts, quietly flowing into the false connection constructed by the mental anchor.

The fake Vera inside the anchor point trembled in response, her eyes momentarily glazed over, as if she were truly being guided by some force.

"Come with me." Tom's voice rang directly in the fake Vera's mind, carrying an unquestionable command.

In reality, Vera's true form slowly maneuvered her wheelchair out of the House of Requirement and headed towards the bathroom on the second floor.

There were many people in the corridor, but most students were enjoying their holiday leisure or preparing for the evening's banquet, and no one paid any attention to her passing by.

As we approached the abandoned girls' restroom on the second floor, the cold, damp atmosphere in the air became increasingly noticeable.

Vera could feel the excitement and longing emanating from the diary in her pocket, like a viper sensing its prey approaching.

She paused, and after confirming that no one was following her, she pushed her wheelchair into the dimly lit, dilapidated girls' washroom.

A short, stout ghost wearing glasses was sitting on the tank of the innermost toilet, sobbing sadly.

Hearing the noise, Myrtle cried even louder from her hiding place: "Oh! Someone else has come! Are they here to laugh at me again?"

The weeping Myrtle was a pitiful person, as she was the only true victim who died when the secret chamber was opened fifty years ago.

Vera wanted to say something to comfort her, but at the moment she was "controlled" and could only ignore her with a blank expression as she maneuvered her wheelchair to the pool with the small snake-shaped mark.

Tom's consciousness hissed urgently in her mind—it was the Parseltongue, cold and commanding.

Under his control, the fake Vera moved her lips slightly, mimicking a similar, awkward, and strange hissing sound.

This is an entrance that can only be opened using parsleyan speech.

Vera was silent for a moment, then let out a hissing sound.

"Open."

Of course, she wasn't controlled by Tom, so this Parsleyan accent... was actually just a few phrases she had hastily learned during the summer vacation.

As long as I can manage, that's fine.

With this command, the pool began to emit a heavy, grinding sound, like stones rubbing together.

The entire pool installation, along with the wall behind it, began to slowly move and rotate, revealing a huge, dark, several-foot-diameter pipe opening at the back.

A cold, damp wind, carrying earth and a stale, fishy smell, blew from deep within the pipes and brushed against Vera's cheek.

Hearing the unusual noise, Myrtle screamed in terror and darted back into her toilet, leaving only the faint sound of water echoing in the empty bathroom.