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With a wave of his wand—
"Armor up!"
A transparent shield instantly materialized in front of Devro, enveloping his entire body. The surface of the shield shimmered like an invisible barrier. With Devro's current magical ability, casting the Shield Charm was effortless. In fact, its effectiveness might even surpass that of some older students.
He raised his head, eyes locking on the shed. His gaze fixed on Vega's lifeless body sprawled on the ground. After a moment of contemplation, he narrowed his eyes and raised his arm again.
"Colloportus!" he cast loudly, his wand pointed straight at the shed.
A beam of silver light shot from the tip of his wand, splitting into several streams that instantly struck each of the shed's doors and windows.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
The doors and windows, typically left ajar for owls to come and go, slammed shut one by one—sealed tightly by an invisible force. Faint silver light leaked through the cracks, proof that the Locking Spell had taken full effect.
Devro sat cross-legged right in front of the shed, his wand still gripped tightly in his hand. He adjusted his breathing quickly. Even though his opponent had remained motionless for over a quarter of an hour, rushing in to check was far too risky. He opted instead to use a meditative technique—to enter a state of heightened perception. Just as he had done before in the Room of Requirement, he would sense the situation inside indirectly.
Closing his eyes, Devro took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. The air around him seemed to become fresh and still. All distracting thoughts faded from his mind. His consciousness began to stretch outward, as though breaking free from the confines of physical matter—stepping into another dimension.
Gradually, a mist formed around Devro and slowly drifted outward. His perceptive range expanded, and his magic fused with his awareness, creating thin blue threads that extended through the cracks in the shed's door. The threads spread out, enveloping the entire interior.
It felt as though even his own body was immersed in that gray mist.
He could sense every subtle change inside the shed—the scent of hay and bird droppings mingling in the air. Vega's body lay silently on the ground, devoid of breath or heartbeat, completely lacking the vital signs of life. Devro's perceptive threads bypassed the high wooden perches usually occupied by owls, inching closer to the lifeless form below. The threads danced in the air, alive with magical sensitivity, probing every crevice with extreme care.
Only after confirming that there were no hidden threats did Devro relax a bit. He inhaled deeply, maneuvering his threads to climb gently onto Vega's body—over feathers, skin, and beak. The threads scanned every inch, attempting to detect something unusual. He could feel the early signs of stiffness in Vega's body—the unmistakable reaction of death settling in.
But the deeper Devro searched, the more troubled he became. He could tell that the creature before him was just a regular owl. Nothing appeared out of place—not a clumsy transfiguration by some dark wizard, not even a trace of illusion. Everything about Vega's body was entirely natural.
Devro frowned in confusion.
"Could it be… an Animagus?" he muttered.
But he immediately shook the thought away.
"Impossible. Everyone's Animagus form is unique. How could it match a Hogwarts owl so perfectly? That's too convenient."
It was clear he wouldn't find anything just by observing the surface.
Gritting his teeth, Devro steeled his resolve and allowed his perceptive threads to slip into Vega's body through the pores on its surface. To his surprise, the process went smoothly. He had studied similar cases in How to Trace the Source of a Transfigured Object, and Madam Pomfrey's occasional treatment of school owls had given him insight into their anatomical structure.
The threads ventured deeper.
But instead of finding abnormalities or magical remnants, what he found left him stunned. The owl's internal structure was flawless. Organs arranged perfectly. Blood vessels and nerves distributed exactly as expected. Bones precisely shaped and positioned.
"This… this is impossible," he whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
He searched again—every nook and cranny of the shed—desperate for any clue. Yet aside from Vega's stiffening corpse, he found nothing. Everything was too… perfect.
Too standard.
So standard, it felt unnatural.
Those two words echoed over and over in his mind.
Boom!
A mental explosion erupted in Devro's consciousness.
Suddenly, it all clicked. The characteristics, the precision, the unnatural perfection—it all pointed toward a spell. A spell that was supposed to be forgotten. A spell so advanced and scientific, most wizards couldn't even begin to learn it.
Microscopic Structural Transfiguration!
Devro's eyes widened. His heart pounded violently in his chest.
Yes—this was the reason he had originally wanted to contact Xenophilius Lovegood! Because he had stumbled upon horrors buried deep within the microscopic world. Though he hadn't directly mentioned it in the letter he sent, it was undeniably connected to Transfiguration. And somehow, that had drawn attention. Terrifying attention.
They were people—or things—linked to that sinister force he encountered at the microscopic level. A chill ran down Devro's spine.
He was drenched in cold sweat.
There was no longer any doubt.
In this world—
In the wizarding world—
Voldemort was not the only threat!
Though Devro had once been targeted by that terrifying microscopic entity, he thought he could avoid danger by simply never entering that world again. But he had never expected that even a simple letter would expose him. Would trigger a pursuit involving dark wizards skilled in the Killing Curse!
"They must have also mastered Microscopic Structural Transfiguration… and to a degree far beyond me!" Devro thought grimly.
He couldn't even guess their intentions. He had no way of measuring their strength. And worst of all—he had no idea who his enemies even were!
"This is insane… there's no way I can handle this alone! I have to tell Dumbledore!"
Regret gripped him tightly. He should have informed Professor McGonagall earlier about the microscopic threats. But back then, he had no idea that any of this would snowball into something so dangerous.
Without hesitation, Devro broke away from his meditative state.
Whew—
The mist dissipated. His spirit snapped back into his physical body.
Just as he took a breath—finally free from the stench of bird droppings in the shed—
A pungent, garlicky smell assaulted his nostrils. It almost made him gag.
Devro's head shot up—and to his dismay, he saw the very professor he least wanted to encounter right now.
Quirinus Quirrell.
Damn it.
A wolf ahead, and a tiger behind!
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