"The book says that instead of brewing a potion using Mandrake to help with Animagus transformation, you might as well just keep a Mandrake leaf in your mouth."
---
10:30 AM
Dylan sat in the library, gently closing the forbidden book in his hands.
He hadn't found a clear potion recipe, but he did come across a rather dubious suggestion that might—or might not—actually work.
"Professor McGonagall mentioned that Mandrake has the power to restore a wizard to their human form. So if you're practicing Animagus transformation, perhaps this magical plant could lend a hand."
Dylan rubbed his chin, pretending to slip the book into his pocket, though he actually stored it in his personal space.
"But having to keep a Mandrake leaf in your mouth all the time… that must be so uncomfortable, right?" he mused.
According to the forbidden text, holding a Mandrake leaf in your mouth would allow a wizard's breath to meld with the leaf. This, in turn, would help make their transformation attempts smoother and more effective.
Professor McGonagall had told him the same.
"Since the detached leaf isn't toxic, I guess if I have to, I'll try it for a few days and see if it makes any difference."
After a moment's thought, Dylan pulled out a smaller leaf, placed it in his mouth, and pressed it under his tongue. The instant the leaf touched his taste buds, he felt a cool, slightly bitter rush that shot straight to his brain.
"Something about this still seems off…"
The library was nearly empty at that moment. Even Mrs. Pince had locked the restricted section after Dylan left, heading off to the Quidditch pitch.
When the time was right, Dylan also left the library and headed for the pitch.
The air felt a bit stifling—despite a heavy downpour earlier, the rain hadn't cleared the weather. Hogwarts was still shrouded in a thick, gloomy cloud cover.
---
On the Quidditch Stand
"You're finally here! I saved you a seat!"
Just as Dylan stepped onto the stands, Ron waved him over excitedly and pointed to an empty seat next to Neville, then quickly turned back to the pitch, nearly leaping to his feet.
Raising an eyebrow, Dylan walked over and said to Neville, "Hey, isn't that seat supposed to be mine? Why are you sitting there?"
Neville chuckled. "Ron asked me to save it for you, but I figured I'd keep it just in case too."
Understanding the situation, Dylan sat down.
At that moment, the Gryffindor team took to the field. It seemed today's match was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. While Slytherin jeered, the other three houses cheered enthusiastically for Gryffindor.
Soon enough, the game began as over a dozen broomsticks shot into the air at the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle.
There were four balls in play:
- A red Quaffle used to score points,
- Two black Bludgers that both protected teammates and disrupted opponents,
- And a golden Snitch that the Seeker must catch. Grabbing the Snitch ended the game and awarded 150 points.
Almost immediately, players from Slytherin and Gryffindor clashed in mid-air. Only Harry and Malfoy were flying high above.
Harry glanced around nervously, while Malfoy hovered in front of him—quite literally positioning his rear toward Harry and waggling his broom beneath him.
—He was probably showing off his new flying broom, albeit in a rather bizarre manner.
Just as Malfoy was flaunting his broom, one of the Bludgers suddenly shot straight at Harry. Fortunately, Harry's reflexes proved quite sharp. Besides the training he'd been doing, Dylan would occasionally lob a spell at him as practice. If Harry couldn't dodge in time, he'd have to deal with the effects of Dylan's experimental curse.
In fact, Dylan had even earned the dubious title of "Defeater of the Chosen One" because of it. The reward wasn't much—just a slight increase in his spell's speed—but it made dodging considerably harder for Harry.
Even though the Bludger came at him fast, it only grazed Harry's cheek without really hurting him. Malfoy's eyes widened in anger when he saw the near miss, but as Harry remained unscathed, he quickly regained his composure.
Fred rushed forward, redirecting the Bludger toward Slytherin. Yet, oddly enough, halfway through its flight the Bludger abruptly turned around and hurtled back toward Harry with renewed speed.
This unexpected turn made Ron slam his hand on the railing in alarm.
"What on earth is going on? Is someone trying to target Harry again?"
He turned to Hermione and Dylan, asking, "Did any of you see someone casting a nasty curse? With Hagrid gone, we don't even have a telescope!"
Hermione and the others shook their heads.
After the Bludger attacked Harry several times, Gryffindor called for a time-out. As soon as Madam Hooch announced the break, the Bludger also abruptly halted its assault.
Wood complained to Madam Hooch, insisting someone must have tampered with the Bludger. But Madam Hooch didn't believe a word of it—after all, she personally safeguarded the Quidditch balls, and no one could have interfered with them under her watch. Moreover, after several inspections, she found nothing amiss.
So, the game resumed.
Seated next to Neville, Dylan glanced toward the center of the pitch with a thoughtful expression.
"Maybe I should get a pet house-elf too…"
It seemed the Bludger was acting as a deterrent to prevent Harry's pet house-elf, Dobby, from causing a ruckus. Plus, the spell cast on the Bludger was something Dylan couldn't quite detect. This suggested that the magic of wizards and house-elves might be fundamentally different—they have their own unique form of magic that sometimes doesn't even require a wand.
"But house-elves are usually passed down through families. I doubt you can just buy one on the black market."
Recalling how Dobby could effortlessly send Malfoy flying, Dylan's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Maybe once Harry finally helps Dobby break his contract with Lucius, I could swoop in. If I could just capture one, maybe there's some sort of achievement or reward for binding one to you!"
House-elves had a multitude of uses. They wielded unique magic, could cast spells without wands, and moved instantaneously without restrictions… On top of that, they could help tidy up your room and whip up a delicious meal.
"In that case, a house-elf might be way more useful than Nobeita, right?"
Thinking about his own little dragon who only knew how to eat and play, Dylan shook his head.
"Well, you have to give it to Beta—at least he's been cooperating with all the bloodletting lately."
Meanwhile on the pitch, Harry had spotted the Golden Snitch. Dylan couldn't help but smile as he watched the Chosen One chase the Snitch while enduring Dobby's well-meaning yet bothersome attacks. Honestly, not many could handle Dobby's "kindness" as well as Harry did.
The Golden Snitch zipped high into the air, and Harry had no choice but to follow it, weaving through the sky for nearly 400–500 feet. "It's just a few hundred feet—our Chosen One can handle it," Dylan thought.
Suddenly, the Gryffindor students leapt to their feet in excitement.
—Harry, dodging Bludger attacks, zoomed straight at Malfoy.
Malfoy, who'd been fuming over the Bludger nearly hitting Harry, now found himself staring at Harry's determined, almost self-destructive charge. His face turned even whiter in shock.
But just as quickly, Harry stopped in front of him, extending his arm and flying his broom so close to Malfoy's head that a low buzzing sound filled the air. Malfoy spun around in disbelief to see that Harry had caught the Golden Snitch—right above his head!
Malfoy's eyes grew complex as he looked at Harry, about to say something, when suddenly Harry's hand went slack, and he began diving downward, startling Malfoy once again.
Luckily, Harry managed to control his broom's trajectory and barely landed safely on the ground.
A group quickly surrounded him. At moments like this, one person was always first to step forward.
"Hey! Step aside—our Chosen One's hurt! I'm gonna cast a healing spell! And you, you with the camera—make me look as cool as possible!"
Lockhart hadn't even cast a spell—he'd dashed over faster than any Gryffindor student or teacher, sleeves rolled up, ready to fling a spell at Harry.
"What? No, wait—I don't need a healing spell. I just need to get to the infirmary!" Harry's eyes widened as he saw Lockhart's raised wand, a hint of fear in his gaze.
The Bludger had already struck Harry's arm twice. Although he hadn't immediately fallen, his arm was fractured. And his cries for help seemed to go unheard—Lockhart's spell had already descended.
From Dylan's position, he couldn't hear what Lockhart had chanted, but he did see Harry let out a terrible scream after the spell hit.
"Ah! My arm! I can't feel it at all—!!!"
People around quickly parted, revealing Harry's prone form. Dylan looked over to see Lockhart, still grinning smugly as he declared, "Yes, you're broken, so I made your bones vanish. Now you won't feel any pain."
"But you were supposed to be casting a mending charm!" Harry protested, looking at his limp, water-soaked arm that sagged like a soaked rag, its flesh unnaturally loose without bone support.
Harry felt as if he was about to pass out in terror.
"Well, maybe you heard it wrong. Now you can head to the infirmary. I'm sure your friend—Mr. Weasley—will be happy to take you there. And tell Madame Pomfrey, I didn't want Harry to suffer too much—hurry up and let her patch you up a bit."
"Move it, move it!" Ron rushed over with Hermione, carefully supporting the nearly unconscious Harry as they made their way toward the infirmary. They knew the route by heart.
Hermione had once given Lockhart the benefit of the doubt, but seeing their friend so hurt made her finally believe what Dylan had warned them about.
Passing Lockhart, Hermione gritted her teeth and stomped on his foot.
"Yikes!"
Ultimately, Harry helped secure another Quidditch win for Gryffindor—though at a high cost.
Once everyone was taken away, there wasn't much left to see. Dylan trailed behind the group, leaving the pitch at his own leisurely pace.
Later, while having lunch, Dylan mused to himself, "My tongue feels all numb. Didn't they say Mandrake leaves aren't really toxic as long as you don't chew them?"
At lunch, Hermione and Ron shared some good news about Harry.
"So… about Harry. Is it true? Did Lockhart really make his bones vanish?" Dylan asked, looking at them expectantly.
"Madame Pomfrey says he should be fine. Even without his bones, they'll grow back," Hermione sighed.
"Using Mending Charm on bones, huh?" Dylan inquired.
"Yes, Harry's expected to grow out exactly twenty-nine bones," Hermione nodded.
Lockhart's creative use of magic was as peculiar as his personality.
"Maybe I should ask him how to make an enemy's bones disappear…" Dylan's thoughts churned.
"This spell is just too wicked, yet here I am—a second-year wizard comparable to the Dark Lord—without that particular spell in my arsenal. It doesn't exactly match my status, does it?"
Ron grimaced as he recalled Harry's painful ordeal. "Good grief, I can't imagine how much Harry must've hurt. The look on his face nearly broke me."
Nearby, Fred and George cackled.
"At least he's alive," one remarked.
"And we beat Slytherin!"
"Yeah, we really pulled off something huge!"
Seated next to Neville, who was quietly sipping soup, Dylan said, "Before lunch, I heard Captain Flint from Slytherin was lecturing Malfoy. They even said that Harry totally dazzled Malfoy—so much so that he couldn't even see the Golden Snitch above his head."
Dylan shrugged vaguely. "Guess that just shows Malfoy's eyes aren't on his head, huh?"
Neville stifled a laugh. "Dylan, maybe keep quiet. You wouldn't want Mandrake leaves ending up in your soup."
Dylan smirked. "I'm pretty sure I didn't drink any soup."
After lunch, Dylan wanted to rinse his mouth out, but with the leaf still in there, he couldn't make too many dramatic moves. So he simply used a cleaning charm to freshen up.
"Is Professor McGonagall's method really legit? Keeping a Mandrake leaf in your mouth for an entire month? Imagine how stinky it'll be when you finally take it out…"
Days passed by uneventfully. After his extra tutorial with Professor McGonagall, Dylan received some rather disheartening news.
"What? You mean I have to keep it in until the full moon?!?!" Dylan exclaimed, wide-eyed.
Professor McGonagall sipped the sweetened red tea Dylan had conjured with his own spell and looked at him pityingly. "I thought I made it clear last time: It starts at the full moon and ends at the full moon—until the next full moon, that is, and before Christmas."
"I'm fainting…" Dylan muttered, his vision darkening as he longed to vanish from the world.
"So what's the point of having this bitter Mandrake leaf in my mouth for all these days?"
McGonagall gently gripped the handle of her teacup and slowly raised it to her lips, taking a careful sip of the still-steaming tea that wasn't scalding but pleasantly warm as it slid down. Seeing Dylan's nearly collapsing expression, she tilted her head slightly with a hint of sympathy.
After setting the cup down, she cleared her throat and, after a brief pause, said, "Perhaps you should consider it as giving Mandrake a few days of warm, cozy companionship in your mouth?"
Dylan felt the world go black for a moment, his head spinning.
"Professor, I—I almost thought I was talking to Professor Snape just now."
Spitting out the Mandrake leaf, Dylan cast a levitation charm to suspend it in midair—certainly not wanting to get his hands dirty.
"Just toss it in here," McGonagall ordered softly, her wand making a subtle motion as a trash can from the corner floated over. She flicked her wand, opening its lid.
Just as Dylan was about to drop the leaf in, the trash can belched loudly.
"Ouch, what's that? Smells like something's delicious!"
Dylan's lips twitched in a reluctant smile as he swatted at the air. Without even needing his wand, the Mandrake leaf was flung into the trash can.
"What's this? It stinks! Miamiamia~ so raw, yet strangely appetizing!"
McGonagall's eyes crinkled at the corner as she waved her wand again. With a "clack," the lid closed, and she sent the can back to its corner.
"This is a trash can gifted to me by Albus—quite the quirky present."
Dylan's lips twitched uncontrollably.
"Was it a birthday gift?"
"Yeah, just last month."
Dylan managed a strained, dry laugh. "Not bad, not bad… Quite ingenious, actually."
"But my favorite gift is the planner you gave me—the one that smells of herbs, like mint with a hint of lemon. I've even started using it as my personal aromatherapy."
McGonagall nodded toward a transforming Quidditch planner on the corner of her desk, her smile unwavering.
Dylan chuckled. "If you like it, that's all that matters."
In truth, the planner's full name was something like the "Anytime, Anywhere Transforming Quidditch Competition Mint Planner."
After chatting a bit more about transformation charms and Animagus techniques, Dylan gathered his things and left Professor McGonagall's office.
Although he hadn't found a better method in the forbidden book for practicing Animagus transformation—or a potion to aid it—McGonagall did provide him with a new list of materials. It involved using the Mandrake leaf (kept in the mouth for a month) combined with some other ingredients to create a non-potion, mixed elixir. The components were easy to come by, and Dylan planned to give it a shot after the next full moon.
It was around that time that explosive news began circulating around the campus:
—Someone had been attacked by a "Heir and Monster" again!
Dylan heard about it during lunch from Neville. The victim was Colin—the big fan who always snapped photos of Harry at every opportunity and sat next to Ginny. He'd been attacked on his way to see Harry and, along with Harry, was now lying side by side in the infirmary.
"I guess that counts as extreme fangirling, huh?"
Dylan barely spoke, mostly listening as Neville recounted the latest gossip—though he had no idea where all these stories were coming from.
These days, Dylan had grown accustomed to being more reserved. Even though he wasn't keeping the Mandrake leaf in his mouth anymore, he quietly ate his lunch.
Just then, Fred and George burst into the dining hall, zeroing in on Dylan with several bizarre items in hand.
"Did you hear what Colin said? That during his petrification—and then after Professor Snape revived him with a potion—he felt like he'd actually died."
"That's terrifying! But seriously, what did he see?"
"He couldn't really say—just mentioned a vague, shadowy figure that terrified him even more."
"Hey, does that thing you bought actually work? It looks more like a toy."
"Who said that? This is an amulet made of blue protection crystal! I got it from my dad's favorite old wizard shop in Diagon Alley!"
"Alright then, I hope my silver bell pendant works when that monster shows up. My mom says it's a moonlight pendant made of pure silver, though I've always suspected she got duped."
"Ever since I became a wizard, she's always claimed to have seen gods—whose messengers made her follow some bizarre cult."
"Really? I think she's been completely fooled. There are no gods in this world—only magic! You should write her a letter and ask her about it."
Hearing the chatter, Dylan glanced up, only to see the twins running over.
"Hey, Dylan! There you are!"
"Look at this! We made a killing selling these!"
"Seventy galleons each!"
Dylan's jaw dropped. Seventy galleons? With over 700,000 galleons still on the board, hearing about mere tens of galleons seemed almost trivial.
"Not bad at all."
The twins were decked out in various trinkets. Fred sported a bunch of large, green onion-shaped charms and several wooden plaques inscribed with symbols Dylan couldn't decipher—they weren't Greek or Latin, more like a mismatched Sanskrit. Meanwhile, George wore far more upscale pieces: rare amethyst crystals hanging everywhere, making him look like a purple Christmas tree.
"But these amulets—are those symbols just doodles? They all look different to me." Dylan asked.
"That's what makes them unique! Each one is one-of-a-kind!" George grinned.
"If they were all the same, no one would buy them. Besides, we can't even reproduce them that way." Fred laughed.
Dylan nodded. "I guess that's true. So, you want me to enchant these amulets? You know I'm not really into that sort of thing…"
"No, no, no," Fred quickly waved him off.
"We need you to add some magic to these charms!" George pleaded eagerly.
"Exactly. With all these new sellers of amulets around, our business is taking a hit!" Fred whimpered.
"So, you want me to cast some spells on them?" Dylan raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, exactly like the one you did in our dorm last time!" George practically bounced with excitement.
"The one that deflected explosions?" Fred's eyes sparkled.
Dylan hesitated, about to say no—after all, how much time would he have to spend on enchanting all these amulets? But seeing the eager, expectant looks on the twins' faces—and thinking about their tidy yet shabby dorm room—he sighed.
"Alright, I'll give you guys a hand. But I'll only try it on your amethyst pieces. I don't have time for the rest."
The twins' faces lit up with delight. In the end, they were just checking in, not really expecting much—since they clearly didn't lack supplies. But sometimes, a small inquiry could lead to a pleasant surprise!
Fred and George thanked him profusely.
"Great! Thank you so much, Dylan! Good people are always blessed!"
"Our whole family will be grateful to yours!"
Dylan opened his mouth to protest, but then muttered, "Enough chatter—pack your stuff and get out of my way!"
Grumbling, Dylan picked up his bag of coal and headed back to his dorm. The twins obediently followed at a respectful distance.
Maybe the materials weren't too difficult to gather—in fact, Fred and George didn't have nearly as many amethyst crystals as one might think, which relieved Dylan somewhat.
He spread out all the amethyst crystals on his bed. As they clinked together, he raised his wand.
"Protego!"
A blue shield of light burst from his wand tip, enveloping the crystals like a mist.
Casting a mere shield spell wouldn't last long. To prolong the effect, another charm was needed.
"Permanent Sticking Charm!"
Dylan's wand moved with practiced ease, tracing a smooth arc as a ripple ran through the air with his incantation. The blue glow surrounding the crystals began to twist, gradually spreading over them. The twins watched in amazement as golden traces interwove with the blue light, blurring the boundary between the two.
Before long, the protective shield had seeped into the crystals. What had seemed like subpar amethyst suddenly glowed with a warmer, more refined luster—purple and blue lights merging seamlessly. In no time, the enchanted protective amulet was complete.
"Done already?" Fred's eyes widened.
"That quick?!" George was dumbfounded.
Dylan shot them a dismissive look. "Don't be fooled—what looks quick wasn't nearly that fast."
"Alright, now take these out and start selling, okay?" he instructed.
"The Permanent Sticking Charm won't keep the Protego effect forever; once the magic fades, the amulets revert to plain amethyst."
"And I didn't use too much magic on them, you know?" Dylan added.
Hearing this, the twins wasted no time and quickly gathered up the crystals.
"Yes, sir! We'll get the job done!" they chorused.
"Fifty percent of the profits, deal? Trust us, madam!" they chimed.
Dylan raised his wand as if to unleash a blazing fire spell—but thankfully, the twins sprinted away quickly enough to avoid being singed. Rolling his eyes, Dylan lowered his wand.
---
Later That Night
After dark, Dylan donned his Shadow Ring and, drawing on the power of his coal, transformed into a wisp of black shadow as he left Hogwarts Castle and ventured into the Forbidden Forest.
Silently weaving through the forest, he reached the cave where he'd arranged to meet Hagrid and summoned Beta.
Now, Beta had grown considerably, and fortunately, the cave was spacious enough for the well-behaved creature.
Hagrid soon appeared, lugging a hefty bundle of meat chunks—nearly as tall as he was.
"You're late," Hagrid chided, setting down the meat and cheerfully cutting it into small pieces to feed the dragon.
He then apologized, "Sorry, I got held up by a little critter. I hadn't seen it in ages, so I delayed a bit."
"A little critter? What magical creature could make you so concerned?" Dylan asked.
Hagrid glanced at Dylan and then at Beta, hesitating before answering, "It was a unicorn. It nearly got killed, but I arrived just in time—otherwise, who knows what that mysterious person would've done."
Dylan's eyes lit up. "A unicorn? You mean the one nearly killed by Professor Quirrell? The same one you rescued?"
It had been hiding all this time and now reappeared?
Dylan almost wanted to snatch everything Hagrid had brought and leave with Beta immediately, but he held back.
"Yes, the unicorn. Its wounds have healed a lot now," Hagrid said in a low voice.
"So it didn't run into any trouble all this time? It must have been held back by its herd since it's still so young," Dylan speculated.
Hagrid shook his head. "When I saw it, it was completely healed—just as beautiful as before."
"I see…" Dylan murmured. The unicorn, though not very large, was probably just a youngster compared to the majesty of a full-grown unicorn. After its previous ordeal and being kept indoors by its elders, it now seemed safe enough to roam again.
After pondering for a while, Dylan decided to wait until the timing was right. He called Beta to his side, stored it safely in his personal space, and bid Hagrid farewell.
Hagrid seemed reluctant to let go, and Dylan reminded him firmly to keep the encounter a secret. Any hint of the dragon's existence could lead to dire consequences—for him, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and even Hagrid. Not to mention, if the Chosen One hadn't yet saved the day again, they might all end up in Azkaban. The Ministry of Magic doesn't care about your age!
Of course, if it weren't a particularly serious issue—like with someone who directly joined the Death Eaters like little Batty—they wouldn't be locked up. But secretly keeping a dragon? Now that's a whole other matter.
Dylan definitely didn't want that.
He certainly didn't want his little secret, Carlassa, to be exposed now. Hogwarts was too wonderful to be at odds with the wizarding world—after all, even the daily "free resource grabs" helped him scrape by. Besides, everyone here was so nice; Dylan truly enjoyed staying at Hogwarts.
Leaving the cave, Dylan didn't head straight back to his dorm. Instead, he wandered through the Forbidden Forest.
Suddenly, a white figure darted through the dark woods.
Dylan immediately gave chase, weaving through dense branches and tangled roots.
Finally, in a moonlit clearing, the mysterious figure halted.
Squinting in the moonlight, Dylan was both startled and delighted to see—it was indeed the unicorn he'd rescued that day!
"Hurry up, pay up! I mean, let me bleed!" Dylan shouted in a mix of urgency and humor.
The unicorn simply blinked in silent response.
(The End of Chapter)
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