Chapter 138

"《Flesh Shaping》?" Madam Pince looked at the slip Silven handed her, then glanced at him suspiciously. "Is this really what Minerva sent you to borrow?"

"Of course it's Professor McGonagall—there's her signature right here," Silven said.

"Strange. Minerva would never sign a perpetual loan slip." Madam Pince held the parchment up to the light, inspecting it as if checking for forgery.

But her words made Silven understand what the horizontal line meant… it meant he could return the book whenever he liked.

Eventually, the slip passed Madam Pince's inspection. She told Silven to wait, then walked between the towering shelves, returning about fifteen minutes later with what he needed.

Seven old, thick volumes were placed on the table in three trips by Madam Pince. Silven noticed one had two rusted iron chains wrapped around its cover.

Silven wondered what could possibly be written in this book to warrant being chained up.

But he could imagine it was nothing like textbook material—no wonder Professor McGonagall had specifically warned him not to let anyone else see it.

Silven stuffed the books into his shaped lizard-skin bag and left the library.

But those chains gave Silven a good idea—he could add a similar protective casing to his Horcrux grimoire.

After all, the thing was unlike a traditional wand; it might even serve as a special weapon.

But iron chains wouldn't work—they were too heavy, and flying with them would drain his magic unnecessarily…

As Silven thought this, he walked out of the library.

With the exam drawing closer, nearly every table in the library was taken by fifth- and seventh-year students.

Back in the common room, Silven saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled together again, but this time, before he could get close, they hurried off.

Silven pulled out the Marauder's Map and saw they were back at Lockhart's office door.

A few minutes later, Harry entered the office. Ron and Hermione waited at the corridor's corner, then slowly moved to the doorway and stopped.

They really are going head-to-head with Lockhart.

But this time, Silven felt neither curiosity nor concern. He tucked the Marauder's Map away and returned to his dorm to read.

First, he took out the chained book. Since McGonagall had allowed him to borrow it, the book itself couldn't be dangerous—he felt reassured.

What puzzled Silven was that the chains seemed intrinsic to the book—no lock, no opening mechanism anywhere.

He tried prying the chains loose from the side, but it did nothing. When his palm touched the cover, the book suddenly began to shake violently.

Silven instinctively let go. The book fell to the floor—and transformed into a hedgehog, straining to sprint out the window.

Silven was startled. By the time he recovered, the hedgehog had already darted past him.

Realizing the door was shut, it turned its attention to the window on the other side.

"Crash!" The chair was knocked over. The hedgehog leapt onto the table and shot toward the windowsill, then launched itself.

But Silven had already drawn his wand and swung it hard.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Another book floated up and blocked its path.

The hedgehog slammed into it and fell heavily. It tried to rise and run again—Silven pointed his wand at it once more.

"Stupefy."

The spell struck the hedgehog, but only paused it momentarily. Silven then cast Petrificus Totalus—same result.

This thing seemed immune to magic.

The next second, Silven suddenly remembered something and swapped the incantation on his lips from a binding charm to a Transfiguration spell.

This time it worked. The hedgehog stiffened, froze in place. Silven then tried turning it into a snail—within a blink, it reverted to the chained book.

And now the chains had snapped in the middle, easily openable.

Silven picked up the book and placed it on the table, curious.

He expected horrifying content—but it wasn't. The book contained nothing but standard, detailed explanations of Transfiguration, even more comprehensive than Advanced Transfiguration Guide.

This didn't look like a banned book at all…

Oh, wait.

Silven suddenly recalled: the first time he tried turning the hedgehog into a slipper, it froze. The second time, when he used a more complex animal Transfiguration, it reverted to the book.

Silven realized—if his animal Transfiguration wasn't proficient enough, the hedgehog would remain frozen, not revert.

In other words, some Transfiguration master had written this book—and out of whimsy, added a clever design: only a truly skilled Transfiguration wizard could access its contents.

If that were true, then yes, this book belonged in the Restricted Section. If anyone could borrow it, Hogwarts would soon become a hedgehog paradise.

Silven glanced at the name on the cover—Cogrid Gray.

He had no recollection of the name—probably an ancient wizard.

Only when class was about to start did Silven close the book—whereupon the chains reconnected.

So next time he wanted to read it, he'd have to pass the Transfiguration test again. He should've just left it open.

Silven stepped out of the common room, jogged to the entrance hall, and headed for the greenhouses for Herbology.

Passing the Black Lake, Silven unexpectedly saw Dumbledore speaking with an old wizard missing half an arm and one leg.

"Do me a favor, Albus. I really should retire," the old wizard said. "I hope you've found someone to replace me."

"Of course, Silvanus. I'm grateful for all you've done for Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, his gaze falling on the brace at the old man's right knee. "But could you please teach through this year?"

"Of course," the old wizard answered without hesitation. "Just this year? No problem."

A professor covered in wounds… retiring…

Silven now knew who he was: Silvanus Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor.

In Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Newt Scamander called him "the bravest fool of the modern age" (complimentary, probably).

He was passionate about magical creatures—and lost sixty bones because of it.

He lost half an arm and a leg studying Hungarian Horntails and Peruvian Vipertooths respectively.

He "embraced" a Thestral and had five ribs replaced with prosthetics.

…

These exploits appeared every few pages.

Oh, right—he also received, for twelve consecutive years, a copy of *A Beginner's Guide to Protective Enchantments* jointly signed by every healer at St. Mungo's Hospital.

Looking at it that way, Professor Kettleburn could indeed be considered a legendary wizard.

Is he retiring?

Fair enough—the professor's condition really wasn't suited to teaching students day after day anymore.

Then who would be replacing him? Hagrid again?

Silven felt a little uncertain.

After all, Hagrid had been accused of killing a classmate fifty years ago… although everyone knew he wasn't the real culprit, he was still expelled and had his wand snapped.

Until the true culprit was caught, Hagrid couldn't even openly use a wand, let alone serve as a Hogwarts professor.

But… because of his involvement, the Riddle diary that could have proven Hagrid's innocence had been utterly destroyed, and even the mastermind Tom Riddle was left with only a quarter of his original self.

Under these circumstances, could the truth of what happened fifty years ago ever come to light?

Silven walked slower and slower, and couldn't help stopping in his tracks. He wanted to tell Dumbledore about this, but the two were still talking—clearly not the moment.

Silven decided to wait a while.

"Speaking of which, Albus, have you found someone to replace me yet?" Professor Kettleburn asked at this point. "I'd suggest you find a new professor with a strong physique. Those little things in the Forbidden Forest aren't easy to get along with—if he's not sturdy enough, he'll probably be taken apart by them by the second day."

"The Forbidden Forest isn't that terrifying, Silvanus, and Bowtruckles don't go around biting off half of someone's ear on their own." Dumbledore glanced at his own right ear, of which only half remained, then continued: "If word of this gets out, it'll add quite a bit of trouble to my work."

"What? You mean you still haven't found a suitable professor?"

"No, quite the opposite—I've already found one," Dumbledore said with a smile. "And he meets your requirements perfectly."

"Good. I hope when this new professor retires, he'll still have an intact body."

"I don't think that will be a problem."

……

The two walked and talked as they headed further away; judging by the direction, they seemed to be preparing to go to Hogsmeade Village.

This left Silven a little hesitant, unsure whether to interrupt them.

And just then, the class bell rang from the direction of the castle.

Forget it—next time, then. Silven turned and ran toward the greenhouses.

After all, Professor Kettleburn wasn't retiring until next school year, so even if he said something now, it wouldn't do any good.

(End of chapter)