Chapter 234: The Concept of the Magical Scroll

Allen saw a flicker of doubt in Professor Dumbledore’s gaze—the very thing he himself couldn’t understand. Black was hunting Harry, so why abandon such an easy opportunity to attack Ron instead?

After all, all four of them were completely unprepared at the time.

Thinking of this, Allen suddenly recalled the look in the black dog’s eyes as it left—something about it always gave him a strange feeling.

He wanted to mention it, but quickly abandoned the idea; he suspected he’d simply imagined it.

At that moment, Hagrid leapt to his feet, his face twisted with furious rage—he looked ready to tear Black apart with his bare hands.

He immediately took his leave, saying he would search the entire Forbidden Forest.

It sounded like an angry outburst—the Forbidden Forest wasn’t just the small stretch connected to Hogwarts. It housed Acromantulas, Centaurs, Unicorns, Giants, and Werewolves; it could never be called small.

“So that’s it,” Professor Dumbledore murmured, closing his eyes.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick also looked stunned.

“An Animagus differs from ordinary transfiguration—a wizard retains both his magical abilities and human thought,” Professor McGonagall added, clearly now believing Harry and the others.

“But when did he become an Animagus? Becoming one takes years,” Professor Flitwick squeaked.

“There’s one person who can answer that, Minerva—is Remus still in his office?”

“He’s been there all along. He hasn’t been well these past few days,” Professor McGonagall replied vaguely.

Hermione exclaimed: “Professor Dumbledore? You know Professor Lupin is—a—”

“Yes, I know,” Dumbledore said, his tone deliberately restrained. “Remus has been in his office these past days, dealing with his old affliction. He hasn’t had the energy to attend to other matters, but I need to speak with him at length—he may provide information we don’t yet have.”

Professor Dumbledore stood up, his gaze settling on Harry over the bridge of his spectacles. “For the time being, I want you to remain inside the castle. Do not leave.”

The professors left. Harry, Allen, and Hermione exchanged glances, about to speak—when Madam Pomfrey entered, applying a fresh layer of white ointment to Ron’s wound. Ron winced in pain, but soon the agony faded, replaced by an itchy sensation.

“This child needs rest. Don’t stay too long,” Madam Pomfrey warned.

Then she pressed her lips together, her expression stern. “Why do you always end up in such a state?”

Allen muttered gloomily: “I’d like to know the answer to that too.”

The infirmary fell silent, broken only by Ron’s intermittent gasps—his wound burned and itched, as if the healing process had been accelerated tenfold.

Harry, Allen, and Hermione stayed a while longer, discussing today’s events—but came to no conclusions.

Back in the dormitory, Allen immediately took out his diary, extracted today’s memories, and placed them inside his Mind Chamber to review repeatedly.

After repeated confirmation, Allen reached a startling conclusion: Black’s target was clearly Ron.

But Ron shouldn’t have been the target—when Black was imprisoned, Ron was still an infant.

Could the Weasleys and Blacks have been enemies? Allen’s mind conjured another absurd idea.

He pondered for a long time, unable to shake the feeling of being watched when the black dog arrived at Hogwarts tonight, or the image of Scabbers burrowing into Ron’s chest.

Something felt off—but he sensed he was missing a crucial piece of information; the puzzle refused to come together.

After much thought, he gained nothing.

He gave up trying.

But today’s events served as a warning—he’d grown lax, lulled by the comfortable life at Scamander Manor, neglecting Memory Magic entirely.

Moreover, his friends were still too weak. From today’s encounter, Black proved extremely cunning, striking at unexpected times and places.

Though Black no longer seemed to target Harry, Ron was still his friend.

Yet today’s display suggested Black’s power wasn’t overwhelming—Allen could defeat him easily now. But Black remained hidden, and Allen couldn’t stay beside his friends every day.

After all, his talent had just upgraded—he had a mountain of research ahead and no time to act as bodyguard. Yet Black was too cunning, and Allen remained deeply worried for his friends’ safety.

Especially Harry—the Boy Who Lived couldn’t be killed by some lowly thug. Harry was still needed to confront Voldemort, the one who had made a deep, bitter enemy of Allen.

But how could he ensure his friends’ safety?

Allen decided he needed to improve their strength and self-defense capabilities—a thought he’d long entertained.

For his closest friends, he had no qualms about teaching them his modified Transfiguration spell—it was his core combat ability. But his modified Transfiguration wasn’t easy to learn.

First, one needed a solid foundation in Memory Magic. The difficulty of Memory Magic needed no elaboration—he’d studied for so long and could barely claim to have entered its threshold. Harry and Ron? They’d need years just to build a basic foundation—by then, it’d be too late. And Memory Magic carried inherent danger; a single magical accident could make Voldemort laugh in his dreams.

Hermione was well-suited to learn Memory Magic, but her schedule was already packed—she had no time to spare.

To truly master Allen’s modified Transfiguration, one also needed a personal Mind Chamber, because the spell’s parameters were too numerous. Human memory cells were unstable and quickly forgot parts of the parameters—requiring a stable Mind Chamber to store them.

That was even harder. Allen himself had no idea how to build a Mind Chamber inside the mind.

He could share his diary’s Mind Chamber with his friends, but then they’d have to queue every morning to memorize the parameters—just imagining it made his head ache.

So while he could teach them Memory Magic, it wouldn’t yield results anytime soon.

Another idea, one he’d been pondering for months, surfaced in his mind—could he seal his modified Transfiguration spell into a magical scroll?

Yes, Allen wanted to create a magical scroll in the Harry Potter world with no usage restrictions...

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