Chapter 259

“Alright—” Harry, Ron, and Hermione replied reluctantly.

Then they began examining the magical scrolls they had been given.

The magical scrolls were all roughly the same: made of some kind of hide, tightly rolled into a small cylinder, with a metal ring engraved with mysterious script at the center, appearing no different from an ordinary scroll, each bearing an arrow marking at one end.

“Why are our scrolls different colors?” Hermione asked, fiddling with her blue magical scroll.

“The three scrolls are different colors because the beasts they transform into serve different purposes,” Allen explained.

“Ron and Hermione received scrolls for small-scale combat; Harry’s white scroll is the most powerful.”

“Can these scrolls really summon powerful transformed beasts?” Ron rubbed his thin-looking scroll, suddenly losing confidence.

“Trust me,” Allen’s gaze swept over the three of them, “each transformed beast has combat strength sufficient to easily defeat an adult wizard.” He spoke in a low tone.

“Based on my last encounter with Black, any one of these scrolls’ transformed beasts could defeat Sirius Black—only the speed of victory would differ. But I fear Sirius Black still has hidden cards, so I prepared three scrolls for you.”

“Use them as the situation demands: Ron and Hermione’s scrolls first, Harry’s last. When danger arises, use them without hesitation.” Allen emphasized again.

Harry and the others fell silent, staring at their scrolls, then glanced at the blade in the room. Though they still struggled to believe in the scrolls’ power, Allen had never let them down.

“Did you notice the arrow marking on the scrolls? You must point the arrow at your transformation target when unrolling them,” Allen continued.

“Thank you, Allen,” Harry suddenly spoke up.

“Why are you saying that? We’re best friends!” Allen clapped Harry hard on the shoulder.

“Besides, all this is just my speculation—maybe nothing will happen while I’m gone, and all these preparations might be useless,” Allen shrugged.

“Don’t say that. I’ll remember everything you’ve done for me,” Harry said solemnly.

The next morning, Allen picked up his pre-packed small bag and prepared to head to Hogsmeade Village to travel to the Ministry via its fireplace.

Having arranged everything, he still looked forward to his Ministry assignment—after all, the Ministry was the ruling center of British wizarding society, and he wanted to see how wizards governed the magical world.

Outside the castle gate stood a four-wheeled carriage pulled by Thestrals; Hagrid would drive it to take Allen to Hogsmeade and accompany him to the Ministry.

“Do we really have to make this look like a farewell before death? I’m only going to the Ministry for a few days and coming right back,” Allen said helplessly, looking at Harry and the others.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had come to see Allen off; Professor McGonagall had come as well.

Harry and the others had turned it into a full-family send-off: Hermione brought Crookshanks, Ron carried Scabbers, and Hedwig, who had been in the owlery, seemed to sense the scene and flew over, landing on Harry’s shoulder.

Allen bid each of them farewell.

He also took the time to say goodbye to their pets.

Crookshanks still seemed angry with Allen, ignoring him with a haughty air—whether still resenting the catnip incident or the recent incident of being dragged back home, Allen couldn’t tell.

Scabbers’ condition had worsened; he lay motionless in Ron’s arms. Allen glanced at him twice, feeling something strangely off about him.

But he couldn’t figure out why.

Hedwig had the closest bond with Allen; she gently pecked his fingers, her way of showing affection.

Finally, Allen bid farewell to Professor McGonagall, who looked at her prized student with pride and whispered in his ear: “You are my pride.”

Allen stared at her in surprise—this was the highest praise he had ever received from her.

“Don’t get arrogant,” McGonagall added softly.

Just as Allen was about to board the carriage, an unexpected figure appeared.

Professor Snape emerged from the castle gates, face cold; Harry and the others quickly stepped aside.

Allen had assumed Snape was just passing by, but Snape walked straight toward him, making Allen feel uneasy—he feared his secret had been exposed.

Still, he kept his composure, certain he’d left no trace that day.

Snape stepped before Allen and stared directly at his ears: “You haven’t taken a sample today?”

Allen nearly spat out his blood—after all that drama, it was just for this?

Today’s random sample was Eevee’s ear; his ear immediately drooped…

“Severus, maybe you can let it go,” Professor McGonagall interjected.

“No. You understand the significance of Allen’s transformation talent material,” Snape replied stiffly.

McGonagall was silenced.

“While you’re at the Ministry, don’t waste the magical materials produced by your transformation talent parts. You must collect samples yourself every morning and send them back to Hogwarts via owl,” Snape pressed on.

Allen stared at Snape’s stubborn expression, at a loss for words.

But he knew Snape acted this way because Allen had completely depleted his Pokémon material stock.

Allen wanted to argue, but he noticed the red veins in Snape’s eyes—clearly, taking all his Pokémon materials had deeply affected him.

He softened slightly; after all, he himself hoped Snape’s research would bear fruit, and he made up his mind.

“Extra pay!” Allen declared firmly.

“Sending samples by owl costs money, and collecting them yourself is painful,” Allen said, meeting Snape’s surprised look with complete justification.

“As you wish. You’ll receive compensation you’ll find satisfactory,” Snape snorted, then turned and walked back into the castle.

Allen then traveled to Hogsmeade with Hagrid.

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