Chapter 125

“Invisibility Charm, Muffling Charm, Silent Levitation Charm...”

In the headmaster’s office, Dumbledore’s murmurs broke the long-unheard silence.

Almost all of it targeted stealth and trolls specifically.

Nothing happens by coincidence, especially not a child who never sneaks out at night yet learned the Invisibility Charm.

He had sensed the danger long ago...

That danger could only come from the room on the fourth floor, and to reach the troll alone, his excellence is beyond question.

This means he has passed at least four trials.

Yet he said nothing... that’s interesting, isn’t it?

If such behavior unsettles Dumbledore, then adding the name “Green” to it, along with his persistent lurking near the troll...

Dumbledore smiled faintly.

Perhaps the entire Hogwarts Castle lies within his grasp—the greatest white wizard of this century—but this Green... he has done everything he possibly could.

“Albus, you imagine him as one of those wicked wizards...”

A calm, gentle voice came.

“Oh—Headmaster Davenport, forgive an old man’s excessive worry; age makes one see things poorly... The weather is fine, where has my lemon drop gone?”

“Perhaps in your wool socks?”

Lady Davenport said softly.

“Oh—of course, of course, my wool socks.”

In Dumbledore’s hands were a pair of thick socks, their touch radiating soft warmth.

What made his beard curl even more was that there wasn’t just one—every single pair came from that little Green.

【Happy Halloween. Thank you for your generous help.】

Dumbledore’s blue eyes narrowed.

Who could dislike a child who knows how to repay kindness?

The dungeons.

The stone walls exuded chill. The potion classroom was colder than anywhere else, the damp cold heavy as if it had weight, pressing down on the room.

Droplets of condensation clung to the rough stone walls, slowly dripping, catching the flickering torchlight.

Many ingredients in the storage cabinets had grown brittle from the damp. Professor Snape’s private storage room was tightly shut, yet a faint scent of potions seeped through the crack.

Amid the unchanging gray and white, some candies, a gift box, and a blue notebook stood out starkly.

“It seems you received some gifts too, Severus?”

The visitor was an old man with long, white whiskers.

He wore a purple robe, his tone devoid of mockery, instead carrying a quiet concern.

“Hmph—”

Professor Snape unhesitatingly shoved Dumbledore out the door.

At the dungeon entrance, Sir Cadogan was sharing dinner with two or three monks, several former headmasters of Hogwarts, and his plump little gray-and-spotted pony.

He pushed his helmet up and raised a jug of honeywine in salute to Headmaster Dumbledore.

“Halloween—uh—happy! Headmaster Dumbledore, he didn’t see your wool socks?”

Sir Cadogan called out,

“What a pity...”

Inside the dungeon.

Snape, having shed his earlier anger and irritation, now felt merely vexed.

Useless gifts—useless except to bind fools more tightly to other fools, making it easier for them to act like idiots...

He unwrapped the package.

Inside were carefully selected stinging nettles and porcupine quills, varying in length, neatly packed in a small bottle.

Beside the bottle was a notebook, detailing Xiang Xiang Xien’s latest progress with the guiding method.

It wasn’t much, but it wasn’t little either—it was the result of Xiang Xiang Xien’s extensive experimentation.

Snape waved his wand and tossed the candies away; they landed “perfectly” in a small compartment of the glass cabinet.

Then he opened the letter:

【Sometimes seeing things with hope makes them clearer.】

【Professor, I found some decent materials among a pile of inferior ones.】

【Though few, they’re still there.】

【By the way,】

【Professor Snape, Happy Halloween.】

Too many words—seemed fake...

Snape snorted, tossing the letter into his own bag.

As Xiang Xiang Xien walked out of the dungeon, his breath turned to mist, rising and falling rhythmically.

“Come in, child.”

Professor McGonagall still sat in her tall chair, the only difference being that the mountain of homework and piles of complex documents had vanished.

Only a snowy owl remained, arriving with a letter, its head bobbing, shaking loose a few tiny flakes of snow.

Xiang Xiang Xien found it amusing; he waved his wand, and the snowflakes danced along with it.

“Hoot?”

The owl tilted its head, landing on Xiang Xiang Xien’s shoulder and nuzzling his cheek with its round face.

Not good, Xiang Xiang Xien thought—when he returned, Mr. Owl would start screeching again:

“Young wizard! Faithless young wizard! You smell of another owl!”

As if Xiang Xiang Xien had betrayed it somehow.

“Child, come here.”

Professor McGonagall suddenly said.

Xiang Xiang Xien moved quietly closer, expecting questions about the troll—but the professor said nothing of it.

She simply took his hand.

“Listen, child, protecting your friends is important, but protecting yourself is just as vital.”

The crackling of the fireplace grew louder.

Xiang Xiang Xien stood before the hearth, beginning his practice of turning objects into “magic.”

He waved his wand, and the flames danced like sprites—until, in a moment of chance,

Xiang Xiang Xien suddenly recalled the professor summoning the fire lizard.

He flipped through the professor’s notes and found the section indeed there, with meticulous details on the transformation of the fire lizard.

Xiang Xiang Xien had assumed this was advanced material, yet some strange impulse made him try it anyway—

You practiced an advanced Transfiguration at a beginner level. Proficiency +100

A flame shaped like a lizard burst forth!

【Within magical creatures, there exist circuits perfectly attuned to magic; gifted wizards catch glimpses of them.】

As Xiang Xiang Xien smiled faintly while reading the professor’s notes, Professor McGonagall was reading a letter sent from afar.

【Dear Minerva McGonagall:】

【When I received your letter, I could hardly believe it—that child, God’s blessed child, was not the victim of a fraud.】

【Forgive my suspicion; I’ve seen too many such cases. Even as life deceives us again and again, we in Crookham still choose to believe.】

【Because there is no worse outcome.】

【I cannot imagine how hard you worked to find me—I know those cruel people never reply; they’d rather never receive letters, so they don’t have to face those poor children.】

【Regardless, your compassion alone is enough.】

【If you need more information about that child, let me know—I’ve been a volunteer in Hollyse for a long time.】

【Looking forward to your reply.】

【Yours faithfully, Roland Taylor】