He leaned against the staircase rail, watching the silver-white stag running through the air. In a daze, he seemed to hear the sound of its hooves, bringing warmth as it passed by him.
Anything that transforms into a Patronus looks incredibly beautiful, even more sacred than a Unicorn.
Michael watched the stag staying close to Harry and suddenly felt a surge of envy.
He struggled internally for a moment, but in the end, the desire not to be a burden overcame the laziness deep inside him.
"Teach me the Patronus Charm, Harry," Michael said resolutely, closing his eyes. "After school starts, I can practice Magic Potion with you every day!"
Although Snape always liked to target Harry, if Harry performed well in Magic Potion Class, even Professor Snape couldn't unjustly deduct points every class.
Harry was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and said, "Sure! If you want to learn, I'll teach you without any conditions... But why don't you ask Vid? Vid is more experienced than I am."
Michael sighed and said, "He's too busy... you know? Sometimes it feels like he has to squeeze time to breathe out from between his teeth."
"Hmm... indeed..."
Harry and Michael exchanged glances and suddenly sighed in unison.
Having such an overachiever among their companions was not a great experience, yet they couldn't bring themselves to blame Vid for working so hard.
Even someone as slow as Harry could feel that Vid seemed to be constantly chased by something, striving desperately... He's already so talented, yet appears to be under great pressure.
—Could it be because Voldemort has never truly died, giving Vid this sense of crisis?
Harry guessed internally, feeling a strange sense of guilt, as if he hadn't completed his own task.
...
"Although I think these matters shouldn't be told to a child, Dumbledore believes you have the right to know."
Lupin said to Vid, "The owner of that island is a Muggle merchant named Roger Milton. When our people found him, they'd discovered he'd already committed suicide half an hour before."
Vid frowned and asked, "Suicide?"
"It appears so; the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic didn't find any evidence of murder," Lupin said.
Vid was silent for a moment, then asked, "Remus, do you think the Ministry of Magic's conclusion is credible?"
Lupin laughed, "Perhaps some officials from the Ministry of Magic left you with a poor impression, but they also have highly skilled wizards. Especially the Aurors—those without abilities can easily get killed in this position—Aurors are top performers, highly distinguished. Kingsley Shacklebolt is the cream of the crop."
Vid nodded slightly.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, he certainly remembered the name, although he didn't appear often in the original story, he indeed was a smart and capable guy, and later even became the Minister of Magic.
"This kind of thing couldn't possibly be done by a single force, especially those machines targeting wizards." Vid asked, "Did you check the correspondence of that Roger Milton? And what about his computer or mobile phone?"
"Shackle is well-versed in this regard, he brought in an expert from the Muggle world, who is said to be serving the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. But..."
Lupin's tone was heavy, "As you might have guessed, we didn't find anything more valuable."
Not finding anything is also a discovery, enough to prove there's a larger shadow behind this matter.
Yet this realization only deepens people's anxiety and distress, serving little practical use.
Lupin perked up and said with a smile, "By the way, I haven't yet thanked you—the Communication Pea is really useful, it provided us with great help. I heard it will be on sale in Diagon Alley tomorrow?"
"Yes, Machioni plans to make a hefty profit during Christmas!" Vid said, "The retail version has many features cut, it's not as complete as the one I gave you, with a focus on enhancing the calling function."
"I think it's already very good, even more convenient than a Muggle's mobile phone—at least you guys don't charge for calls, and it won't be disrupted by magic power."
Lupin said, "Get some rest early tonight, I'll take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow."
...
The advertisement Machioni launched this time was overwhelmingly grand, seen both by those who should and shouldn't see it.
"Communication Pea? A magical version of a phone?"
Byrd flipped through the advertisement in the newspaper, muttering, "Those wastes at the research institute—still haven't figured out the Friendship Book, and yet a more advanced product has appeared! But it doesn't matter much to us, it's merely useful to you—Serra, haven't you heard of this pea during your time at school?"
Abigail said expressionlessly, "No. I'm only a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, not an Alchemy Professor!"
In front of them, a Troll Poppet sat on the ground, lazily yawning and picking its nose with a pair of rather sinister-looking small eyes shifty glancing around.
It looked impatient, but under command, it was still sitting obediently, with a wooden stick as tall as a person placed beside it.
The Troll Poppet exuded waves of stench, no different from a real Troll, yet a person beside it clung tightly to it, seemingly unaffected by its odor.
The man's face was ashen, with deep dark circles, clad in haphazardly matched, visually striking colored clothes. Circling around the Troll Poppet, he continuously voiced praises—
"Heavens! It's perfect! It's a masterpiece! Just look at these muscle lines! Look at these strong arms, and these nimble little eyes!"
He climbed onto the Troll Poppet's arm, reaching out to touch those eyes, but was tossed aside by the annoyed Troll Poppet gripping his arm, roaring in anger.
With a "crack," the man's arm was dislocated.
"Ah—"
He let out a scream, but after being lifted from the ground, he became even more excited.
"Oh oh... did you see that? It has a temper! Hahaha... I'm liking it more and more!"
He circled the Troll twice, then tumbled over to Abigail, pleading, "Please, let me see the werewolves and vampires you have! They would help my research tremendously! Just one of each, really..."
"No way!" Abigail looked down at him, refusing coldly, "They're not as easy to control as the Troll; you might get torn to pieces."
"But you're here, aren't you?" The man persisted, clinging to her, "You could command them to be quiet, right?"
"Don't you get it?" Abigail said coldly, "What makes these Poppets precious is their own thoughts and personalities, even having a great potential for growth! They certainly follow commands, but if angered, they might even defy orders!"
"Illari, these Poppets were made for combat in the first place, possessing strong aggressiveness," Byrd also advised, "they might be safe for most wizards, but your physique is just at an ordinary person's level."
In their research, they had long discovered that even without magic or Magic Potions, the physique, cell vitality, recovery speed of wizards surpasses that of ordinary people.
But like Illari, who barely exercised and was only obsessed with Alchemy without deeply probing into magic, had lost his inherent advantage.
"Alright..." Reluctantly, Illari gave up pestering Abigail and said, "But you must bring Vid Gray to me. This research cannot do without him!"
Abigail's eyebrow twitched slightly, but when Byrd looked over, her expression returned to normal.
"Can't you replicate it even by looking at the finished product?" Byrd asked, frowning, "Weren't you Nicolas Flamel's disciple?"
"Sigh, I only studied Alchemy with that old man for a few days while at Beauxbatons, how could I be a disciple? Morry brought Gray personally into the doorway of Alchemy, that's a real disciple."
Illari said resentfully and enviously, "And this kind of Poppet... humph, I doubt even Nicolas Flamel could create them... Those damn geniuses..."