Chapter 76: Cornish Pixies
After the whole class sat down, Lockhart cleared his throat.
He picked up Travels with Trolls, its cover featuring his own smiling, winking portrait, and held it high so every student could clearly see that face, which remained perpetually vibrant in the magical photograph.
"I," he pointed at the cover, winking himself, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Arts Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award—I didn't want to bring these up, after all, my achievements aren't gained solely by smiling."
He paused, waiting for the classroom to erupt with adoring laughter.
Only a few girls in the front row giggled softly. Most of the other students stared at him expressionlessly.
Draco rolled his eyes and whispered to Reese, "If he didn't say that on purpose, I'll swallow the Snake Talisman."
Reese shook his head helplessly, signaling with his eyes for him to at least save the man some face.
Lockhart seemed dissatisfied with the volume of laughter, but quickly adjusted his expression.
"I trust you have all purchased my set of books—that is excellent. Today, I will give everyone a little quiz. Don't worry, it's just to see how much you have read and understood from the books."
The test papers were handed out, and Reese looked down—three sheets of paper, densely printed with various details about Lockhart. From his favorite color to his greatest ambition, from his birthday to the gift he most wanted to receive, every question required the students to recite the trivia of this Professor's life fluently.
Draco made a gagging expression. Anthony frowned, looking as if he were saying "This is hard to say." Hermionesighed, helplessly picking up her quill to start answering. Reese's mouth twitched, and he began to write just like Hermione—except the answers he wrote were all made up, because he didn't want Lockhart to notice him at all.
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers, reviewing them while offering commentary.
"Hmm, most of you didn't answer very well. But one person was excellent—Hermione Granger! Who is Hermione Granger? You got them all right!"
Hermione raised her hand reluctantly.
"Very good, good girl! Ten points to Gryffindor!"
Hermione turned her head and whispered to Reese, "Didn't you know all of them too?"
Reese looked at her, "I didn't want to be called out by him, so I just wrote nonsense."
Hermione spread her hands, looking incredulous.
Draco smiled and comforted her, "Look on the bright side, didn't he give you ten points?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco and looked at Anthony.
Anthony quickly surrendered with both hands, "I knew them, but the questions were too disgusting, so I didn't write them."
Hermione looked at these three "deserters" and could only helplessly turn her attention back to the class.
"Now, let us get to the point..."
Lockhart bent down and brought out a large cage covered with a cloth from under the podium. There was a chattering sound from inside, and the cage trembled slightly and continuously.
"Be careful! My task is to teach you how to defend against all the darkness and evil in the wizarding world! You will soon face the most terrifying things, but as long as I am here, you will not come to any harm—please do not scream, that will provoke them."
The students fell silent; the classroom was so quiet that only the faint scratching sounds from inside the cage remained.
Just as Lockhart reached out to lift the cover, Reese quietly drew his wand.
Although Hermione, Anthony, and Draco didn't know why Reese was doing this, out of trust, they all reached into their pockets and gripped their own wands.
Lockhart pulled off the cover.
The things in the cage—electric blue, about eight inches tall, with small pointed faces and a pair of constantly vibrating transparent wings. Their shrill, piercing shrieks rose and fell as they bounced around in the cage, desperately slamming against the cage walls.
"Cornish Pixies!" Lockhart shouted in a tone announcing a major discovery, "Now I am going to teach you how to subdue them!"
He opened the cage door.
The pixies swarmed out like a group of released, angry bees, instantly filling the entire classroom.
They grabbed hanging candles and threw them at students, tore down posters from the walls and shredded them, and inverted ink bottles over the heads of those trying to hide under the tables. A short girl was lifted up by a pixie pulling her hair, screaming and kicking in mid-air. Neville was surrounded by three pixies, his robes were torn, and his face was as pale as paper.
Lockhart raised his wand and shouted, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
The spell was as ineffective as a dud shell. A pixie took the opportunity to grab his wand, flew happily to the window, and threw the wand out.
Seeing the situation completely out of control, the smile on Lockhart's face froze completely. He turned sharply and bolted out of the classroom, his robes flapping behind him like a flag of retreat, leaving a room full of students being tortured by the pixies.
Reese watched the chaotic classroom—the pixies were still wreaking havoc everywhere, several classmates had already hidden under tables, someone in the corner had been doused with ink, and one was on the windowsill using chalk to draw a ghost face on the blackboard.
He softly recited the spell that Lockhart had just chanted.
"Peskipiksi Pesternomi."
The voice was not loud, but every syllable was clear.
All the pixies froze simultaneously, as if a pause button had been pressed. Their bodies floated involuntarily, and one by one, they flew back into the cage. Reese closed the cage door and fastened the latch.
He signaled to Hermione, Anthony, and Draco.
Hermione immediately rushed out of the classroom to find Professor McGonagall. Anthony and Draco helped Reese use "Scourgify" to repair the classroom that had been turned into a mess, while gathering the injured students into the corner. Reese knelt down to use a healing spell to treat the wound on the back of a Hufflepuff girl's hand who had been scratched by a pixie; the white light at the tip of his wand slid slowly over the skin, and the shallow bloodstain gradually healed.
When Professor McGonagall followed Hermione and walked quickly into the classroom, this was the scene she saw: the classroom had been mostly tidied up, the overturned ink bottles and shredded posters were gone, the injured students were leaning against the wall, Reese was treating the last person's wound, and Anthony and Draco were busy putting the scattered tables and chairs back into place.
"Oh, my." Professor McGonagall's gaze swept from the tidy classroom to the students sitting quietly in the corner, and then from the wand in Reese's hand to the tightly shut cage. The expression on her face changed from anger to surprise, and then from surprise to a kind of restrained approval.
"Well done, Mr. Black—and Mr. Goldstein, Mr. Malfoy, as well as Miss Granger for coming to find me. For this, ten points to each of you."
She had the uninjured students help the injured ones to the Hospital Wing for a check-up, and she herself picked up the cage of pixies and strode out of the classroom. Her green robes billowed behind her like an angry sea.
Anthony looked in the direction where Professor McGonagall had disappeared and asked curiously, "What do you think Professor McGonagall went to do?"
Draco said he guessed she went to make trouble for Lockhart, "After all, such a big mess happened in the first class, and that Professor ran away quite fast himself."
Reese said perhaps she went to find Headmaster Dumbledore, "After all, he was the one who hired Lockhartin the first place."
Hermione sighed, "Regardless, Professor McGonagall is very angry, that's for sure."
The four of them looked at each other and shrugged simultaneously—that tacit understanding of "we can't manage grown-up matters."
Then they walked together toward the eighth floor, where Cho was still waiting for them opposite that tapestry. The sunlight in the corridor shone obliquely from the high windows, stretching their shadows long. Draco walked in front, still muttering, "I must tell my mother about Lockhartwhen I go back." Reese walked beside him, a helpless smile on his lips. Amber poked its head out from his collar, looked around, and then retreated back inside.
Chapter 77: Conflict at the Quidditch Pitch
Opposite the tapestry of "Barnabas the Barmy Teaching Trolls to Dance Ballet" on the eighth floor, Cepheus walked back and forth three times.
With every pass, he chanted in his mind: "I need a fully functional Alchemy laboratory."
As the fifth step landed, the smooth wall suddenly rippled like the surface of water.
An ancient door slowly emerged.
Pushing it open, the spacious and bright studio made the five of them gasp simultaneously.
"Incredible..." Anthony stood at the door, his gaze sweeping from the Alchemy workbench to the Potionworkbench, then past the training dummies to the bookshelves, assembly stations, Alchemy furnace, and several large desks.
Hermione had already hurried to the bookshelf, her fingers sliding along the spines of the books.
"Alchemy books from introductory to advanced are all here—this is simply a paradise for Alchemy enthusiasts."
Cepheus pulled out seven textbooks of varying thicknesses from his bag and handed them to Hermione: "These are the Alchemy textbooks I asked Fleur to send from Beauxbatons. Let's put them up."
Hermione took the books and was about to tuck them onto the shelf.
Her fingers suddenly touched an old notebook.
Pulling it out to look, three sets of initials were written in faded ink on the cover: C.B, L.M, S.S.
"Who are these people?"
Cepheus took it and opened the first page.
The familiar handwriting made his fingers pause slightly—Cepheus Black's handwriting was neat and rigorous, Long Meixiu's was delicate and fluid, and there was also a slender, sharp script that carried a hint of restrained dissatisfaction.
"My mom and dad, and Professor Snape."
His fingers gently stroked the yellowed pages.
Inside were recorded small tips for Alchemy engraving, combined Runes and their uses, as well as some accompanying Potion recipes.
The traces left by the three of them in the same notebook when they were young had spanned over a decade and finally returned to the hands of the House of Black's descendant.
Draco noticed Cepheus's expression stiffen slightly and stepped forward to pat his shoulder.
He said nothing.
Cepheus took a deep breath and closed the notebook, putting it in his pocket.
"Alright, this will be our secret base from now on."
"Before the banquet, everyone should familiarize themselves with their respective work areas and arrange the equipment as they are used to."
"A studio must have studio rules—the last person to leave needs to check all equipment to avoid accidents; keep it clean, return all equipment to its original place after use; and no one else is allowed in without everyone's permission."
The four of them responded in unison, "Okay."
They then dispersed to set up their own territories.
Cepheus replicated the Alchemy workbench layout taught by Nicolas Flamel exactly, with the consumable racks, drying racks, and various Alchemy tools all in their places.
Cho neatly arranged her paints and brushes for drawing, with a large stack of sketch paper and parchment next to them.
Anthony placed the books on Alchemy and his notes on product design ideas on the desk, while also tucking in the Muggle books Hermione had brought him.
"Looking for cross-disciplinary inspiration," he said.
Draco neatly lined up the Potion storage bottles in several rows, and wiped the different models of cauldrons clean before stacking them.
Hermione brought a large stack of blank notebooks to record experimental data and dragged the training dummy to the open space to adjust its angle several times.
"Just making sure it won't hit the wall when testing Alchemy tools."
By the time the five of them finally finished tidying the studio to their satisfaction, the bell for the banquet in the Great Hall had just rung.
Days passed peacefully like this for a while.
In Charms Class, Ron's broken wand, which had been wrapped in several layers of Spellotape, finally gave up completely.
He had broken his wand when he fell from that flying car and hadn't dared to tell his family.
As a result, when he cast a spell in class, the wand flew out of his hand and accurately struck Professor Flitwickright between the eyebrows.
A large green lump swelled up on the spot.
Seeing his Dean pitifully clutching his forehead, Cepheus had to squeeze through the crowd of Ravenclawclassmates to the front and use the Horse Talisman to heal the Professor.
Professor Flitwick rubbed his brow, confirming that the lump had disappeared.
He first awarded ten points to Cepheus.
Then he turned his head to look at Ron and, for once, deducted ten points from Gryffindor.
The Gryffindor students couldn't say anything—Ron's move could almost be considered an attack on a Professor.
After the bell rang, Ron could only flee the classroom with a red face and head bowed, clutching the fragments of his completely shattered wand.
Before the weekend, Draco awkwardly announced in the studio: "I'm in my second year now, so I can participate in the Quidditch tryouts. Can you guys come and watch?"
His expression of "I really need you guys to support me but I'm too embarrassed to say it" made Cho burst out laughing.
Everyone readily agreed.
After the tryouts on Saturday morning, Draco rode the north star-star-shatter broom Cepheus had given him, carving several beautiful arcs across the sky over the pitch.
It was the fastest Chaser trial result on the field.
He successfully joined the Slytherin Quidditch team as he wished.
As for the batch of Nimbus 2001s sponsored by his father, he gave them to his teammates with a wave of his hand.
Draco still had to undergo training for new members in the afternoon.
Hermione looked at the good weather outside the window: "Why don't we all accompany him through his training this afternoon and then go for a picnic by the Black Lake?"
Several of them were very interested.
However, not long after the training began, just as Cepheus, Cho, Hermione, and Anthony in the stands were about to open their Alchemy books, a commotion broke out down on the pitch.
Wood had brought the Gryffindor team to apply for exclusive use of the pitch for training.
But the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, also pulled out a special permission slip signed by Professor Snape.
Both sides clashed over the right to use the pitch, and a dozen people gathered in a circle, arguing heatedly.
Fearing the conflict would escalate, Cepheus and the others rushed down to take a look.
Before they even got close, they heard Ron say to Draco—
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to pay to get in."
Draco's face instantly turned bright red, his eyes bulging.
"Scarhead, do you think so too?" He looked at Harry.
Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Hermione rushed over and stood in front of Draco.
"Weasley, you can't say that about him! Draco passed the tryouts through his own hard work this morning, and he only gave the sponsorship from his family to the team after he was selected. How can you call that 'paying to get in'?"
Ron, having been rebuked publicly by a classmate from his own house, turned red in the face and refused to back down.
"Maybe it's because the advantage of the north star-star-shatter broom is too great. That broom is hard to pre-order even with connections—he only has it because he's Cepheus's relative..."
Draco was so angry he wanted to lunge at Ron for a physical fight.
Anthony held him tightly, shouting while restraining him: "Don't be impulsive, don't be impulsive! If you really hit him and the Professors find out, points will be deducted!"
Cepheus stood aside with a frown.
He knew Ron had grown up in the shadow of so many brothers, and there was an inferiority complex deep in his bones.
This inferiority sometimes turned into jealousy of others' advantages.
But to publicly attack someone else's hard work like this today made it very difficult to say anything good for him.
"Ron, you need to apologize to Draco."
"I'm not apologizing to a Slytherin!" Ron was being held back by the Weasley twins, but his words remained stubborn. "So what if you're good at studying? This is a matter between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Since when did Ravenclaw and Slytherin start wearing the same pair of pants?"
The twins tried to smooth things over while holding their brother: "Ronnie, you can't be like this..."
Cho took a step forward and stared into Ron's eyes.
"Are you a mad dog? Do you have to bite everyone?"
These words were quiet and cold. Coming from the usually quiet and gentle Cho, Anthony, Draco, Hermione, and the others were all stunned.
Even the struggling Ron froze for a moment.
Cepheus squeezed Cho's hand.
He knew the reason Cho was so angry was that Ron had directed his words at him—she was protecting him.
Ron's anger was completely ignited by Cho's words.
"Who's like you guys, relying on top-tier brooms to win! When it comes to skill, you'll never compare to Gryffindor!"
Hermione immediately followed up: "Their victory is also the result of hard training. How can you say that—Potter's Nimbus 2000 was also one of the top brooms last year. By your logic, isn't Potter also relying on the broom's advantage?"
"Why are you always speaking for outsiders? Which house are you in anyway? You're a traitor to Gryffindor!"
As soon as these words came out, Hermione's eyes instantly reddened.
Cho pulled her into her arms.
Before Ron could finish, Draco spoke first: "Fine, you Gryffindors don't know what's good—Hermione, come to Slytherin. Professor Snape will surely agree..."
Before he could finish, Ron interrupted.
"Hmph, you think she can just get in? Isn't the reason Blackcouldn't get into Slytherin because his mother is an ordinary witch and he's not even a pure-blood—and Granger, she's just a mudblood..."
Draco's eyes widened, not yet reacting.
Cho held Hermione even tighter.
Hermione and Harry looked bewildered—they didn't know the meaning of the word yet.
Anthony's face turned red with anger, and he let go of Draco to step forward himself.
But someone was faster than him.
Cepheus drew his wand.
Two precise "Relashio" spells knocked the Weasley twins, who were holding Ron, aside.
The twins shouted simultaneously, "Black," "Boss, don't," "Ronnie didn't mean it," but before they could finish—
A third spell.
"Incarcerous" bound Ron tightly.
Immediately after, "Stupefy" struck Ron squarely in the chest.
Ron didn't even make a sound and fell over stiffly.
Just as the members of both teams began to jostle each other, students in the stands had already run to call Snapeand Professor McGonagall.
When the two Professors arrived at the pitch, they happened to see Cepheus holding his wand and Ron lying on the ground.
Snape reacted the fastest.
With a wave of his wand, an "Incarcerous" spell froze Cepheus in place.
His Black robes billowed as he walked between the two, spitting out a few words coldly—
"Explain yourself, Mr. Black."
Chapter 78: Results
Rhys struggled a bit from side to side.
Snape's "Incarcerous" was tied extremely tight; he simply stopped moving and just looked up, staring straight into those Black eyes.
He said word by word, "He said, because my mother isn't pure-blood, I couldn't get into Slytherin."
"He also called Hermione—"
He paused.
He bit the last three words with exceptional clarity.
"'mudblood.'"
The moment Snape heard those three words, his breath hitched slightly.
In those hollow eyes, something flashed violently.
Then his gaze moved from Rhys to Ron's face, who was lying on the ground.
That look was cold enough to pierce through someone.
Professor McGonagall also had a look of disbelief.
Her lips were slightly parted, clearly unable to believe such words had come from the mouth of a Gryffindor student.
She turned her head to look at Wood, who was standing beside her at a loss; her voice was very low, but every word carried a metallic hardness.
"Wood, tell me exactly what happened."
Wood swallowed hard.
He recounted the entire process, starting from the dispute over the pitch, to Ron's mockery of Draco, to Hermionestanding up in defense, and finally Ron spitting out those three words.
He didn't add any embellishments, nor did he try to cover for anyone.
After Snape finished listening, he squeezed a sentence through his teeth, every word sounding as if it were dipped in poison.
"Well, well, I didn't know Gryffindor had produced such a staunch pure-blood supporter."
Professor McGonagall was also trembling with anger.
She took several deep breaths before she could steady her voice.
"While Mr. Weasley was at fault first, Mr. Black's method of using a wand to stun a classmate is also unacceptable."
She glanced at Snape, then at Rhys, who was still frozen in place, and at Cho, who was leaning on Rhys's shoulder and whispering something to him.
Ultimately, she sighed.
"Weasley and Black, fifty points each. I will notify your families about this."
"Dismissed."
With a wave of his wand, Snape released Rhys from his bindings.
Rhys stretched his stiff shoulders and took another look at Ron lying on the ground.
He turned and left the pitch together with Cho, Hermione, Draco, and Anthony.
Professor McGonagall and Snape also went their separate ways.
The members of the Slytherin team rolled their eyes toward the Gryffindors and left in a swarm behind them.
Only the members of the Gryffindor team remained on the pitch, staring at one another in silence.
Only then did they remember—their own Professor had forgotten to lift the curse on Ron.
Wood first cast "Finite Incantatem" on the Weasley Twins.
The twins rubbed their limp arms, muttering, "It's alright," "The Boss held back, so it wasn't that painful," "Ronniemight not be so lucky."
When Wood heard Ron's slur, "mudblood," he actually felt quite uncomfortable in his heart.
But there was nothing he could do; he couldn't just leave a student from his own house here and ignore him.
He cast a "Finite Incantatem" on Ron—it was ineffective.
He frowned and cast it again—still ineffective.
The twins and the other senior Quidditch players also pulled out their wands to try.
Taking turns, not a single person could break the Stupefyspell cast by this second-year student.
"It seems the Boss still held back on us," Fred said, rubbing his arm.
"I knew he still liked us," George nodded in agreement beside him.
Harry looked blankly at everyone and asked what should be done, and if they should go find a Professor.
Fred said Professor McGonagall would be driven mad with anger.
George said it would be quite embarrassing if word got out that a group of seniors couldn't break a spell cast by a second-year.
Fred added that if he knew the reason, Professor Flitwickwould likely be unwilling to help.
George said Professor Snape was even less likely to care.
Fred said Professor Sprout had gone to buy teaching plants.
George said unless you went to find Headmaster Dumbledore.
"But I think—" Fred and George spoke at the same time, saying in unison.
"When the time is up, the spell will break on its own. No need for such a big fuss."
In the end, Ron was carried back to the Gryffindordormitory by the twins and Harry.
The remaining team members stayed on the pitch to continue training—after all, the Quidditch season waits for no one.
By the Black Lake.
The five of them spread a picnic blanket on the grass.
Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the clouds, spilling onto the lake's surface and shattering into a sheet of golden light.
Anthony and Draco took turns explaining the meaning of the word "mudblood" to Hermione.
In the wizarding world, it was the most vicious slur, specifically used to insult Wizards from Muggle families.
Draco quickly added after finishing, "But don't take it to heart, Hermione. You're better than many pure-blood students, and there isn't a spell in this world you don't know—Weasley is just jealous of you."
Although Hermione's eyes were still red.
With her friends sitting around her, the grievance in her heart slowly dissolved quite a bit.
Rhys sat at a corner of the picnic blanket, looking at the calm surface of the Black Lake, lost in thought.
Cho let him lean gently on her shoulder.
Amber crawled out from Rhys's collar, rubbed its head against his face, and then retreated into the crook of Cho's neck.
The group spent a good while by the lake calming their emotions.
Draco began to deliberately tell some ridiculous jokes while Anthony teased him from the side, finally making Hermione laugh.
The atmosphere gradually shifted from somber to lighthearted.
The five of them spent the entire weekend in the Room of Requirement.
Hermione was like a switch had been flipped, throwing herself into absorbing Alchemy knowledge, vowing to achieve something to prove herself.
The first research direction she spearheaded was communication-type alchemical items.
Rhys specially asked his aunt to buy a landline and a mobile phone from the Muggle world and send them to the school for Anthony to study.
Anthony disassembled the two machines into pieces, comparing them page by page with Muggle electronic engineering books, trying to understand the signal transmission principles of the circuit boards before figuring out how to replace these electronic components with Alchemy.
Rhys studied how to combine and use Runes to achieve long-distance communication.
He spread a dozen sheets of draft paper on the workbench, repeatedly arranging and combining Runes representing "transmission," "sound," "distance," and "connection," trying to find the most stable array structure.
Cho was writing and drawing on the side, designing an appearance for the alchemical core based on Rhys's rune array; it had to be both aesthetic and practical, so the finished product wouldn't look like a pile of metal lumps.
Malfoy was at the Potion station, repeatedly calculating possible Potion formulas based on Cho's design.
The solutions in the cauldron were changed one after another.
As for Ron.
He remained unconscious in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory for a full day and night.
It wasn't until the evening of the next day that he blearily opened his eyes, his head throbbing as if it had been struck by a club.
However, what awaited him upon waking was a second Howler sent by express owl from Mrs. Weasley.
When that red envelope exploded, Mrs. Weasley's roar echoed through the entire common room; the content was even more intense than the last one, even saying things like "You've brought shame upon our entire family."
What made him feel even worse was the pointing and whispering from his classmates.
Clearly, everything that happened on the pitch had been spread throughout Hogwarts by the dozens of people present.
Almost every student knew that Ron Weasley had insulted a girl from his own house as a "mudblood" on the Quidditch Pitch.
The looks the Gryffindor students gave him changed from confusion to disappointment.
The Slytherins mocked him without concealment.
Even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students would deliberately steer clear of him when they encountered him in the corridors.
Ron walked down the corridor with his head bowed, feeling every gaze like a needle pricking his back.
But he didn't know who to blame.
Blame Rhys for hitting too hard?
Or blame himself for being too quick with his mouth?
Chapter 79: whisper one
Life went on methodically for a few days.
One evening, Reese had just finished studying the combination of communication alchemy runes in the Room of Requirement and was walking alone in the corridor back to Ravenclaw Tower. The surroundings were so quiet that only the faint crackle of burning torches could be heard.
Then, he heard a sound that shouldn't appear in Hogwarts.
"Come... come... let me rip you apart... kill you..."
That voice was cold, malicious, and hair-raising, like something seeping out from the cracks in the walls, crawling along the ground, and boring into his ears.
Reese stopped in his tracks, composed himself, and swept his gaze across the stone walls on both sides.
Instead, he felt more at ease.
This should be the sound the Basilisk makes when moving through the pipes—it seems things are progressing well.
Amber, inside his collar, squirmed uneasily, her scales tightening against his skin in waves.
Reese gently pinched the tip of her tail and whispered, "Good girl, don't be afraid, I'm here."
The little snake slowly relaxed and buried her head back into his collar.
When he returned to the dormitory, Anthony handed him a cup of warm milk.
"The kitchen House-elf asked me to bring it to you; they're looking forward to you going there to eat again."
Reese took the cup, drank it in one gulp, and placed the empty cup on the bedside table.
"Sure, after finishing the initial synthesis of the communication equipment tomorrow night, everyone can go to the kitchen for a late-night snack."
Anthony raised an eyebrow: "The initial core is already finished?"
Reese nodded, the curve of his mouth impossible to hide: "Yeah, there's already new progress."
The night passed in silence.
After the banquet the next day, the five of them gathered on time in the Room of Requirement.
On the workbench sat a wooden body designed by Cho, which looked very much like an old-fashioned landline. Reese carefully embedded the spherical alchemy core into the groove.
The moment the core touched the base, a faint blue light lit up one by one along the patterns engraved on the surface, like a glowing vine climbing over the entire shell.
"Star Core First Generation Alchemy Communicator—whisper one, activated."
Hermione stood aside holding a notebook, recording while announcing the start of the experiment.
"Experimenters Draco and Anthony in position. Experimental distance one hundred meters, begin."
Draco pressed the three digits "001" on the dial; the wheel made a crisp clicking sound as it turned under his finger.
In the distance, the surface pattern of the landline in Anthony's hand lit up, and a ringing sound echoed from the other end of the workshop.
Anthony picked up the receiver and heard Draco's voice coming through: "Hello, this is Draco."
"Hello, this is Anthony."
Anthony looked down at a timer: "Synchronous voice transmission correct, transmission time 0.1 seconds."
Draco added from the far end: "Synchronous voice transmission correct and clear, transmission time 0.125 seconds."
Hermione's quill slid quickly across the paper, constantly asking them to do more tests—different distances, different durations, different volumes, every variable had to be recorded in three sets of data.
After the experiment ended, Hermione held those few pages of densely packed record sheets and made a summary.
Total experiment time three minutes and forty-six seconds; the synchronization delay error of the call gradually increased over time, with a minimum of 0.1 seconds and a maximum of 0.3 seconds, which is still within an acceptable range.
However, after one minute and seventeen seconds, the call content began to distort, and after two minutes and fourteen seconds, it was already too severe to directly hear the other person clearly. Currently, it's safer to keep the optimal call time within one minute.
As for distance, one hundred meters is just the limit of the experimental site; long-distance calls still need more testing. But from the signal attenuation curve, whisper one's performance is already quite good—the only drawback is that it's not very convenient to carry.
Reese explained that the minimum volume the alchemy core can currently control can only fit a landline-shaped container. To make it as small as a Muggle mobile phone would require more precise testing and more stable core materials, which cannot be overcome in the short term; the research direction should prioritize the home landline market.
Cho added from the side that a matching installation service is also needed; each whisper one requires a corresponding alchemy array to activate its communication address before it can be dialed according to the number—she pointed to the small stone slabs carved with dense runes that had been placed at both ends of the workshop long ago.
Reese took over: "That point won't be a problem. My aunt has already allocated a lot of manpower to the Star Core Workshop; we can specially train a group of full-time activation technicians to install the arrays and whisper oneon-site—this on-site installation service itself can become a good selling point."
He paused.
"The Weasley twins sent over many prank products, plus the defensive brooches we made ourselves and some small alchemy tools that make life convenient. Before Christmas this year, we should be able to complete the launch of new products and the official opening of Star Core."
Anthony pushed up his glasses: "Then the next step for everyone's work process is to continue optimizing whisper one, and at the same time, we can start designing the shop's decoration and functional area planning."
The five of them nodded simultaneously.
Reese put his hands in his pockets and said with a smile, "Then let's go to the kitchen to celebrate."
The Hogwarts kitchen is near the Hufflepuff common room, entered through a huge painting of a fruit still life.
Reese reached out and tickled the pear in the painting; the pear giggled and squirmed, turning into a green doorknob.
He turned the handle and pushed open the stone door.
Warm yellow candlelight and the aroma of baking bread flooded out together.
The House-elves, busy around more than a hundred small tables dedicated to them, saw them and immediately gathered around happily. The one at the very front, wearing a tea towel with the Hogwarts school crest, ran fast on short legs, looked up at Reese with eyes as big as tennis balls, and spoke in a high, crisp voice.
"Respected little Wizard, what would you like to eat?"
Reese reached out and patted her head: "Thank you, Duanduan. Please bring some late-night snacks for me and my friends; anything will do, we want to celebrate a little."
Duanduan's ears twitched with excitement, and she bowed deeply.
"Alright, little Wizard, it is Duanduan's honor to serve you, please wait a moment."
She turned and clapped her hands at the other elves, and the entire kitchen immediately became busy.
They brought over a clean small wooden table and five round wooden barrels that were clearly newly made and never used, with soft cushions on top to use as stools.
Pumpkin juice, pudding, cheese, foie gras, onion soup, beef bourguignon, mussels in white sauce, crepes, and macarons were brought up one after another by small hands, filling the entire table.
These French dishes were things Reese had mentioned liking when he came to the kitchen before, and the House-elves had silently remembered them and specifically learned how to make them.
Anthony tasted a bit of the foie gras, and his eyes lit up: "Great, this is delicious."
Draco took a bite of a crepe and gave a rare high evaluation: "The taste is very good, even better than the French chef my father hired."
The House-elf standing next to him serving the dish widened his eyes in delight. Draco thought for a moment, pulled a small copper commemorative coin from his pocket, and handed it to him as a reward.
The elf took it, wiped it carefully on his tea towel, held it in his palm like a treasure, and his voice trembled slightly.
"Thank you, little Wizard, I, I am called Paopao, very happy to serve you."
Reese explained while cutting the beef: "They learned this new style because they knew I liked it; they asked me to help them bring some French recipes."
Cho's eyes lit up: "Then could we also bring Chinese recipes and let them try to learn those?"
Reese nodded: "Of course."
Hermione sat aside watching these busy and happy elves; although she was still a bit uncomfortable, she was much better than the first time she saw Bangbang and Kreacherand didn't know what to do. She sighed and said softly, "They really love this job; Muggle world bosses would definitely love employees who don't ask for anything in return."
This time she didn't dare easily persuade or try to communicate that "work should receive a reward"—after all, the scene of Bangbang and Kreacher's self-punishment that time had really frightened her.
"Perhaps, there can be a different way."
Reese put down his fork and clapped his hands.
The House-elves busy in the entire kitchen immediately stopped their work and gathered around in unison, looking up and waiting for him to speak.
Reese pulled a bag of candy and a bag of knitwear from his pocket.
"This is candy made by my House-elf Bangbang. To thank everyone for your help with the late-night snacks, Bangbang wants you to taste his craftsmanship too. And there are small decorations Kreacher made for you."
Duanduan took them, distributed the candy to every elf, and then took the knitwear out of the bag—it was a set of small wristbands, each knitted with various shapes of small flowers, clouds, suns, moons, and small animals, with tight stitches and warm colors.
The House-elves happily put on the wristbands, lifting their arms to show their companions and showing off the color of the small flower on their wrists.
The kitchen was filled with chirping laughter.
Looking at this scene, the five of them felt warm inside. After finishing the late-night snack, they said goodnight and prepared to return to their respective dormitories.
Reese walked at the very back; Amber poked her head out from his collar, her red eyes looking like two small pomegranate seeds in the dim light. He touched the spherical alchemy core in his pocket—today's use was just a test version.
But he could already see what it would look like after optimization.
Star Core Workshop, whisper one, those elves in the kitchen wearing wristbands, and these friends beside him arguing about tomorrow's experiment plan as they walked.
Everything was moving forward.
Not fast, but very steady.
Chapter 80: Halloween
It was Halloween once again.
Bangbang sent many pumpkin cookies from Star-Swirl Manor, baked to a golden shine, each decorated with a small star pattern in silver-green icing. Kreacher had prepared some adorable fabric dolls with stitches so fine the seams were invisible.
Even Amber received a special gift—a tiny knitted hat of its own. It was deep blue with a ring of silver stars knitted around the edge. Perched on the Corn snake's triangular head, it looked exceptionally comical.
Rhys and the others arrived at the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. Hermione and Draco also sat at the Ravenclaw table for the time being.
"Sent by Bangbang and Kreacher," Rhys said, handing out the pumpkin cookies and small dolls to everyone.
Draco received a peacock knitted from dark green yarn, its tail feathers using seven or eight different shades of green; Hermione's was a lynx with two small white tufts of fur on its ear tips; Anthony's was a kingfisher with wings knitted from bright blue thread.
Cho's was a swift, its wings tucked in, its body as sleek as a black arc. Rhys kept a falcon for himself, its eyes being two small grey buttons.
"Finally, a day to rest," Draco said, giving a wide stretch, his arm nearly hitting Hermione beside him.
While stuffing a pumpkin cookie into her mouth, Hermionesaid indistinctly, "Fortunately, the results are quite good—whisper one can already handle stable long-distance transmission. Next, we just need to stabilize the synchronization delay and clarity."
"I've finished the blueprints for the Star Core Workshop," Cho said, reaching over to take Amber from Rhys's neck and placing it next to her. The little snake, wearing its tiny deep blue knitted hat, curled up obediently beside her dinner plate.
She sliced the steak for Rhys, her movements as natural as if she had done it countless times.
"Then I'll send a letter to my aunt tomorrow and have them start construction according to the blueprints," Rhys said as he ate the mashed potatoes Cho had prepared for him, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the nice weather.
"By the way, are Potter and the others late for the Halloween feast too?" Anthony looked up; across from them was the Gryffindor table. A quick glance revealed something unusual—Harry and Ron's seats were empty, and even their cutlery hadn't been set.
"They're not late. I heard at the common room entrance that they were invited by Nearly Headless Nick to attend a Deathday Party," Hermione said without looking up, clearly not very interested in this gossip.
The group didn't pay it much mind.
On a day like Halloween, strange things always happened in the Castle.
After the feast, all the students headed towards their respective common rooms. Hundreds of people crowded the corridors, their chattering voices bouncing off the stone walls like a massive swarm of migrating bees.
Just as Rhys stepped out of the Great Hall doors, that voice that shouldn't have been there rang in his ears.
It was clearer and more urgent than what he had heard in the corridor before.
"...Rip you... Kill you... So hungry... For so long... Kill... It's time."
His footsteps faltered slightly.
Cho squeezed his hand and asked in a low voice what was wrong.
Rhys shook his head, his gaze scanning the walls on both sides. There was nothing unusual; only the torches burned quietly in the firelight.
Amber, at Cho's collar, had clearly heard the voice too. It writhed uneasily, burrowing its head deeper into Cho's collar. Cho frowned and stroked Amber's back, then looked at Rhys with a hint of understanding in her eyes.
"Let's keep walking," Rhys said.
However, before they had even gone twenty paces, the students ahead suddenly stopped.
Like a river hitting an invisible dam, the crowd began to stall and pile up from the front. Then, the sound of gasps came from the very front, passing back one by one, exploding through the corridor like falling dominoes.
Draco impatiently pushed past the people in front, leading Rhys and the others to the very front.
Then, he too let out a sharp gasp.
On the wall between two windows, a sentence was written in bloody, large letters:
THE Chamber of Secrets HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Filch's cat, Madam Norris, was hanging from a torch bracket. Her body was as stiff as a stone slab, her tail hanging motionless, casting a long shadow in the firelight.
Her eyes stared straight ahead, pupils dilated and glowing with an eerie green light.
The bloodstains on the floor spread from the wall to the center of the corridor in large patches, showing a dark red luster in the candlelight.
Two people were slumped beside the bloodstains.
Harry and Ron.
The two sat with their backs against the wall, their robes stained with blood, their faces as white as paper, their lips trembling but unable to utter a single word.
"Is the cat still alive?" whispers rippled through the crowd, voices kept very low as if afraid of disturbing something.
Filch squeezed through from the back of the crowd. He hunched over as he pushed past layer after layer of students, his face wearing his usual "someone caught out of bed again" anger.
Then he saw Madam Norris.
The scream was so sharp it pierced the silence of the entire corridor, even making the torches on the walls flicker.
"My cat! You two! You've killed it! I'll—I'll kill you!"
He lunged toward the two of them, his hunched body exploding with surprising strength at that moment.
"Argus!"
Dumbledore's voice came from the end of the corridor. It wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority.
Filch's footsteps froze dead in their tracks.
Dumbledore was followed by a large group of Professors—Professor McGonagall's face was grim, Snape was expressionless but walking much faster than usual, Professor Flitwick was standing on his tiptoes to see over the heads in front, and Professor Sprout was still holding a pair of gardening shears she hadn't had time to put down.
Dumbledore walked to the wall, gently took Madam Norrisdown from the torch bracket, and examined her closely in his hands.
Then he turned to Filch, his voice calm to the point of being cold: "Madam Norris is not dead."
Lockhart appeared out of nowhere, pushing his way to the very front. His golden curls shone in the firelight, his smile as bright as if he were attending a book launch.
"My office is quite close—" He reached one hand toward Filch and the other toward Harry and Ron, speaking in a "this is the sort of scene I handle best" tone. "Argus, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, come with me."
Filch clutched the stiff cat like a fragile treasure and followed Lockhart without looking back.
Harry and Ron scrambled up from the floor, their legs still shaking, supporting each other as they followed. Neither dared to look the other in the eye along the way.
In the Ravenclaw common room, the fireplace was burning brightly, making the deep blue carpet feel warm and cozy.
Hermione and Draco had already returned to their respective houses; only Cho and Anthony still sat beside Rhys. The three were gathered around a small round table with three steaming drinks.
Anthony took a large gulp of hot cocoa, a ring of milk foam sticking to his lip. He wiped it with the back of his hand, his tone carrying a "I need a logical explanation" confusion: "What exactly happened today? Did Potter and the others really kill Madam Norris?"
"Of course not, she's just been Petrified." Rhys took the black tea Cho handed him and took a small sip. Assam tea, with a little honey; the warm sweetness slid down his throat.
"Then what does 'the Chamber of Secrets' mean?" Cho unfastened Amber from her neck and placed it on the table. The little snake, wearing its tiny deep blue knitted hat, crawled slowly in a circle under the candlelight before finding a warm spot to curl up.
"Legend has it that the Chamber of Secrets was built in secret by Salazar Slytherin a thousand years ago." Rhys set down his teacup, his finger lightly tracing the rim. "The purpose was to purge the school of Muggle-born students—those who, in his eyes, were 'unworthy of learning magic'."
Anthony frowned. "Why would he do that? They founded the school together. If they had different philosophies, they could have discussed it. What's the point of a secret basement?"
"That brings us to the divergence in the founders' philosophies," Cho took over, her voice steady. "Salazar Slytherin emphasized bloodline, believing only pure-blood Wizards were fit to learn magic. The other three founders—especially Godric Gryffindor—held the opposite view. This is also why Slytherin House has always revered the pure-blood ideal."
"Perhaps," Rhys picked up his teacup and took another sip. "But those are all just legends."
"Just legends?"
Cho asked back, her voice soft, but her gaze was fixed on Rhys's face. Her deep brown eyes reflected the flickering firelight of the fireplace, carrying a "you can't fool me" certainty.
Rhys was under her gaze.
He knew he was caught. The things he could hide for a while were like objects behind glass to Cho—visible, depending only on whether she wanted to see through them.
He sighed.
"The Chamber of Secrets does exist. And there are rather dangerous things inside."
Cho's eyes narrowed slightly, her expression not changing much.
Anthony's eyebrows shot up. Just as he was about to press for more details, Rhys raised a hand to signal him not to rush.
"Tomorrow, in the Room of Requirement. Once Hermioneand Draco are here, I'll explain everything clearly."
Cho nodded and didn't ask further.
Although Anthony's curiosity was gnawing at him, he also knew that such things shouldn't be discussed in the common room.
Cho hung Amber back around her neck, stood up, and straightened her robes. "Get some rest early."
She turned toward the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Amber poked its head out from her collar, its red eyes glancing at Rhys before retreating back inside.
Rhys and Anthony stood up, placed their empty cups in the designated recycling area for the kitchen, and walked side-by-side toward the boys' dormitory.
The corridor was quiet, with only the wall lamps casting a dim yellow light on the walls.
Rhys walked in front with Anthony behind him; neither spoke. But their footsteps fell on the stone slabs one after the other, their rhythm gradually synchronizing.
Pushing open the dormitory door, moonlight was already streaming in through the window, falling on the floor by Rhys's bed in a spread of silver-white light.
Rhys pulled the curtains halfway shut and lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
The Chamber of Secrets had opened just as he expected. The Basilisk had begun to move. Madam Norris was the first victim, but she wouldn't be the last.
He rolled over and pulled the quilt over his shoulders.
Tomorrow, he would explain everything that needed to be said.