Chapter 128

For many days afterward, Silven struggled to adapt to the feeling of a leaf in his mouth—far harder than he'd imagined.

Speaking normally was manageable, but eating was difficult; Silven had to concentrate fully, or he might accidentally chew up the leaf along with his food.

According to incomplete estimates, he'd swallowed at least a dozen leaves in half a month… of course, not mandrake leaves—too extravagant for practice; Silven deliberately chose mint leaves of similar size instead.

Then there was sleeping at night—eating at least could be controlled, slowed down, or replaced with soup and porridge.

But sleep was impossible to control; sometimes when he felt slightly uncomfortable, he'd unconsciously spit out the leaf, or dream he was eating it like a biscuit.

But Silven had no better solution, because Professor McGonagall told him this process couldn't rely on any external aid—he had to treat the leaf as part of his own body, as an extra tongue, an extra set of teeth.

If he used magic or asked someone else for help, the leaf would instantly lose its effect.

"Mandrake is a plant with powerful magic," Silven remembered Professor McGonagall's words.

"Its leaves can record a wizard's magic and physical traits, and when combined with a charm, form a channel linking the wizard's body to his future Animagus form."

This leaf is a channel; paired with a fixed charm, it connects you to your Animagus animal form.

"And this process must be done alone—if anyone else participates, the channel collapses instantly."

"Don't try to cheat," Professor McGonagall had warned him. "Every method you can think of has already been tried—and failed."

When she said that, her expression was strange—as if she knew that person well.

That made Silven abandon other ideas and focus on adapting to the leaf in his mouth… progress was decent.

Now he could keep the leaf in his mouth for three days straight, and eating and attending classes had become increasingly natural.

One day after class, Silven returned to the common room and, as he entered the corridor, saw Fred and George surrounded by a crowd, with a Beater's ball floating above their shoulders.

"You succeeded?" Silven asked in surprise, nearly spitting out the leaf, then quickly closed his mouth.

He knew Fred and George wanted to create a magical object that floated beside them like the Tome of Horcruxes—they'd come to him often these past days.

But Silven couldn't help them much; the Tome of Horcruxes was unlike ordinary wands—its materials were rare, and even he couldn't make a second one.

So he could only offer Fred and George some ideas—suggesting they draw inspiration from the Levitation Charm and the Zombie Float Charm.

He hadn't expected them to actually succeed—and in under a month.

But one thing puzzled him.

"I know you're Beaters," Silven couldn't help saying, "but you don't need to carry a Beater's ball everywhere—why not turn it into a broom? That'd look better than a Beater's ball."

Somehow, Fred and George's smiles vanished instantly; they looked at Silven, then at the floating object beside them, and after a long pause said, "You're mistaken—it's actually a Golden Snitch…"

Before Silven could respond, Ron couldn't take it anymore. "That joke's terrible. That doesn't look anything like a Golden Snitch—say it's a Quaffle instead."

Harry nodded beside him.

As the Seeker, he could swear the Golden Snitch didn't look like that.

"It really is a Golden Snitch," George said. "Look—it has wings."

Only then did everyone notice the thing had actual wings—tiny ones, easily overlooked.

"It's a first-generation prototype—our technique isn't refined yet," Fred shrugged. "We'll make it the exact size of a real Golden Snitch later."

"What's it even for?" Harry asked instinctively. "Can it block spells?"

"Hey, listen to what you just said," Fred stared at him in disbelief. "It's a one-Galleon Follow Magic Ball, not a hundred-Galleon magical cloak."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, embarrassed.

Silven stood there, sighing softly.

He knew Harry couldn't keep secrets—only half a month had passed and he'd blurted it out. Luckily, no one had jumped to wrong conclusions, and Silven had already thought of a better idea.

"What special abilities do these things have?" Silven asked.

"Special abilities? Of course!" George said. "It follows you wherever you go—isn't that fun?"

"Fun, but not enough," Silven thought. "Puffskeins can do that too—and they're cuter than your Beater's ball, and cheaper—fifteen Sickles at Diagon Alley's pet shop."

"But this is the limit of what we can do now."

Fred said, "We tried other approaches, but we couldn't make the Zombie Float Charm more flexible—let alone move or turn pages like your old book."

"We can collaborate," Silven said thoughtfully.

"How?" George asked. "You'll let us study that book?"

"No, that's out of the question—not because I don't trust you, but you truly wouldn't understand that book," Silven said, placing his hand on the "Beater's ball," examining it briefly before asking, "Did you use oak?"

"Plus rubber and cowhide, or it would crack right away," George replied, sounding slightly offended—he felt belittled.

It's just a flying book—why does Silven think they can't figure it out?

"If that's the case," Silven suddenly said, "I might be able to give it a wand core." The news stunned Fred and George, instantly erasing their earlier annoyance.

"Like a wand core?"

"Really?" Both lit up. "Can this thing be made into a wand?"

"Like the pet wands you sold before?"

"Wait, let me finish," Silven continued. "Even with a core, it won't be able to Cast magic like a wand—I estimate it might only glow or produce wind—some Special magic reactions."

"Yes!"

"Perfect!"

Before Silven finished speaking, Fred and George eagerly agreed to the collaboration.

A glowing Follow Magic Ball with a core material would cost at least three Galleons.

Even if they split profits evenly, they'd earn an extra half Galleon.

This deal was clearly profitable.

Silven also felt it was worthwhile—but his reasoning differed from the Weasley brothers'. He saw it as a good practice opportunity.

Since creating the Tome of Horcruxes, he'd suddenly had an idea—could he make wands that weren't ordinary sticks?

Like the Tome of Horcruxes—a book, not a rod.

Though he'd made circular or curved wands before, those changes relied on the core's uniqueness—they were still fundamentally curved rods.

The Horcrux Codex is, in the true sense, the first wand to break free from the stick — more accurately, it should be called a magic book.

But this couldn't be helped; Merlin organized and simplified the cumbersome ancient magic, so the wooden wand he used at the time became the most suitable choice.

This point can also be seen from the Horcrux Codex — it offers no enhancement whatsoever to spells.

Silven wanted to change this situation: on the premise of adapting to current magic, he would create something different — a magic book, a magic sword, a magic orb, that sort of thing.

The shortfall in the wand's body material could be fully compensated by the core — and conveniently, he could craft any object imbued with magical power into a core, something no other wand-maker could do.

The process might be difficult, but Silven had no intention of getting it right in one go. He was only in his second year, so he could start with something simple… this little gadget the Weasley twins had come up with would do nicely.

While practicing, he could also earn some pocket money; if enough people bought it, bringing out his own magic book later wouldn't seem out of place — truly three birds with one stone.

……

(End of this chapter)