Char's eyes fell upon the shimmering golden script of his Sectumsempra spell. He remembered with perfect clarity that before he entered the Forbidden Forest, the spell had only just reached the Gold level a few days prior, its golden luster still faint and new. But now, that light was visibly richer, deeper, and more substantial.
He knew that the higher a spell's proficiency, the more arduous it was to improve. The leap from Gold to Platinum was a qualitative change of an entirely different order, a notoriously difficult process. Char estimated that to achieve this much progress, he would have needed to practice day and night for several days straight with his Devil's Snare.
He paused, his mind replaying the fierce battle against the giant Acromantula. The spell had cut through the creature's tough carapace, but the resistance he had felt through his wand had been immense. Could that have been the reason for this unexpected leap in power? A moment later, he shook his head, dismissing the thought. "No, that shouldn't be it. I've felt a strong sense of obstruction from the Devil's Snare before, and the effect was never this obvious. Something is missing."
Char carefully sifted through every detail of the memory, and suddenly, he pinpointed a factor he had overlooked. "At that time," he realized, "I had decided to kill one Acromantula to establish my authority and intimidate the others. The desire to tear its flesh, to inflict grievous harm… that was the strongest I have ever felt since learning this spell."
His eyes lit up with understanding. "Perhaps that is the critical factor." He deduced that Sectumsempra, a spell born from Snape's combative and malicious intent, thrived on the wielder's desire to inflict harm. To use it in a true life-or-death struggle, especially against a powerful creature like an Acromantula, would naturally accelerate its growth. This was the true, brutal nature of dark magic.
After figuring this out, Char breathed a sigh of relief, his expression filled with a grim satisfaction. Previously, he had estimated that the training effect of the Devil's Snare would cap out once Sectumsempra reached the Platinum level, at which point his progress would grind to a halt. But now, a new path had opened. The Acromantulas, with their hardened shells and inherent lethality, could be the perfect whetstone for his blade. He wouldn't need to hold back or feel any reservation. He could just let go and kill. If he could manage the colony properly, ensuring their numbers remained stable, he might even be able to hone his spell to the Diamond level on them.
For a moment, the urge to return to the Forbidden Forest and launch another surprise attack was almost overwhelming. If he could push Sectumsempra to Platinum, its power would increase exponentially. Not even Dumbledore or Voldemort could have mastered such a lethal dark magic to that level in their first year.
But he quickly suppressed the reckless impulse. "Calm down. Don't get ahead of yourself." He had used nearly all his trump cards in that last fight. Given the intelligence of the Acromantulas, they would not be caught off guard so easily a second time. "If you want to use them as targets, your current strength is not enough."
He needed to be stronger. "At the very least," he thought, "I need to wait until I harvest the Devil's Snare and acquire the Fire-Resistant Skin ability. My defenses must be strong enough to withstand their venomous claws. It would be best if I could also gain some poison resistance." This was the only way to ensure his basic safety. He also needed a powerful, wide-area fire spell to burn away their webs, and his Sectumsempra needed to be strong enough to be a fatal threat from a distance. These were long-term goals.
"But there is one thing that can be remedied in a short time." His gaze fell on the [Water Enhancement] ability on his system panel. The last battle had been sudden, leaving him no time to prepare the transparent water tank needed to trigger the ability. If he had been able to activate that power-up, the fight would have been much easier. "That must never happen again. But the solution is simple. A Bubble-Head Charm will do."
After sorting through his thoughts, Char finally let out a long breath and began walking back toward Hagrid's hut. He had not taken more than a few steps before he saw Hagrid's massive figure running toward him. Char had never known the clumsy, gentle giant could move so fast.
"Hagrid, don't worry, it's all right—" he called out, but before he could finish, he was swept up in Hagrid's arms. The gamekeeper looked terribly worried, checking him from head to toe for injuries, his voice choked with emotion.
"Thank Merlin," he sobbed. "You're okay, Char, you're not hurt." He then seemed to lose all his strength, collapsing to the ground and slapping himself twice on the cheeks. "I'm such a fool. I don't know what I was thinking, watchin' a child run into the Forbidden Forest after that woman. She's a desperate lunatic! And the forest at night… even I have to be cautious. How could I let you go in alone? I was scared, scared of Azkaban. But even if I die in that place, I'd never let you take a risk like that—"
Hagrid's face was a mask of intense guilt and self-blame, his broad, rock-like shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Char patted his shoulder comfortingly. "It's okay, Hagrid. Don't blame yourself. I only chased after her because I was sure I could handle it."
Hagrid gasped for breath, too emotional to speak. After a moment, he grabbed Char's hand tightly. "Promise me. Never do that again." After Char nodded, Hagrid finally seemed to come back to himself, as if he had just escaped death. He gave Char another hug. "Don't be afraid, child. I did the illegal dragon breeding. It was all me. The Ministry won't involve you. They'll probably be here tomorrow morning. It'll be hard for us to meet again. I'll have to go to that prison… Azkaban." He shuddered, then forced a smile. "Remember to write to me. Maybe I'll get your letters."
He began mumbling, as if listing his last will and testament. "It's still cold now, but it'll warm up soon. I have a blanket for you, it's perfect for that time of year. And I got you some dragon-skin gloves. They'll protect you in Potions class. Haha, don't look at my place as shabby, there are a lot of good things there. I'll leave them all for you!"
Char looked at Hagrid, who was acting as if he were entrusting his most precious treasure to a guardian, and felt a wave of both amusement and warmth. He took a breath and said, seriously, "Hagrid. No one is coming. No one knows this secret now."
Hagrid froze, his expression blank. "But… but Umbridge—"
Char looked him directly in the eye. "There is no Umbridge in this world anymore."
In Hagrid's incredulous gaze, Char briefly explained what had happened. When he heard that Umbridge had attacked Char, even using the Cruciatus Curse, Hagrid's face flushed a deep, furious crimson. He shot to his feet, ready to tear her to pieces. "That monster! That monster!" But when he heard that she had been left to the Acromantulas, even the kind-hearted Hagrid felt no sympathy, only a grim sense of relief. "Yes, she deserved to die. To use the Cruciatus Curse on you… she had to die."
As his heaving chest gradually calmed, his gaze shifted toward the Forbidden Forest. "No. I have to go and see. Some traces need to be dealt with. And… we can't let that toad die too quickly. That might trigger a warning from the Ministry. Aragog and the others… they have their ways." Before leaving, he turned back to Char, his voice a low whisper. "Char. I won't let you take any risks. I will keep this matter in my heart forever. I won't tell anyone. Not even Dumbledore. Now go. Go back and check on Norbert, then you must get back to the castle. You have to be seen."
Hagrid strode toward the Forbidden Forest. Char watched him go, then took a deep breath and turned back to the hut. Inside, the newly born Hungarian Horntail, Norbert, had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Char's eyes flickered. He waved his wand, conjuring a syringe, and slowly drew a small vial of blood from the sleeping dragon. Then, he turned and left.
The blood of the Acromantula. The blood of the Hungarian Horntail. Looking at the two different types of 5X-rated magical beast blood in his hands, Char's eyes filled with a burning anticipation.
"It's been so long," he whispered to himself. "Blood Emerald… we can finally begin."
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