The moment Theodore said he had a way to ensure the Philosopher's Stone would be absolutely safe, Harry and the others finally relaxed.
If Theodore said it, how could it be false?
Ever since they'd met him, they'd never once seen Theodore make a promise he couldn't deliver.
Ron, in particular, visibly let out a breath and broke into a bright grin.
To be honest, he'd already prepared himself to give up the Wizard's Chess tournament—without resentment.
After all, to protect the Philosopher's Stone, Theodore had already taken on who-knew-how much pressure. What did Ron sacrificing one tournament even count as?
But if there was a way to have it both ways, of course Ron would be even happier.
He'd been preparing for this tournament for ages—especially after training with Theodore, who was basically like a living wizarding AI. Ron felt terrifyingly strong now.
If he didn't win the championship and bring back a pile of Galleons, he'd feel like he'd wasted Theodore's time.
"Alright, lads—what are we waiting for?" Ron said, eyes shining. "Let's go ask Professor McGonagall for leave. Right now!"
Seeing Ron this pumped, Theodore and the others exchanged knowing smiles.
Before long, the group was standing in Professor McGonagall's office.
The moment she heard they wanted leave to attend a Wizard's Chess tournament, McGonagall's brows knitted, worry rising to the surface.
"Halloween is not a time when we usually grant leave," she said sternly. "You are all underage witches and wizards. Leaving Hogwarts for several days without a guardian's approval is… deeply unsettling."
"And you also know what's been happening here lately. For your safety, we've decided to approve as few off-campus leaves as possible."
"Even Seventh Years nearing graduation—students who need to find internships—have been refused in large numbers."
As McGonagall spoke, Ron's excited expression gradually froze. His face went pale.
"P-Professor… but this tournament is really important to me!"
McGonagall lifted an eyebrow.
"Every student tells me their reason is important. Are you saying those Seventh Years looking for work are less important than your Wizard's Chess tournament, Mr. Ron Weasley?"
Ron dropped his head, utterly crushed.
Theodore coughed lightly and looked at McGonagall.
"Professor, don't tease Ron."
"And if this is because of… the previous incident—" Theodore cleared his throat again, very deliberately. "—then I apologize."
"But this tournament really does matter to him. Please approve it."
At the mention of "the previous incident," McGonagall's teeth practically ground.
She had never—in her entire life—had such a black mark in her history in the hands of a student.
Turned into a cat.
Petted.
Twice.
After drawing a deep breath, she narrowed her eyes at Theodore and laid down her terms.
"This year, Gryffindor must win the House Cup. You will guarantee it. That will improve my mood… somewhat."
Theodore's expression turned strange.
As if you don't know whether Gryffindor wins the House Cup…
Dumbledore had a thousand ways to "adjust" points if he wanted.
But—
Theodore bared a grin.
"If another House wins, I'll turn myself into a cat. And then, Professor McGonagall… you can do whatever you like."
McGonagall smiled in satisfaction and finally took out the signed permission slips.
As they were leaving in high spirits, she stopped Theodore, her face turning serious.
"Theodore—be careful. The wizarding world is not peaceful right now."
Theodore nodded just as seriously.
"I'll take them out of school… and I'll bring them back with not a single hair missing."
…
The news that Theodore's group had obtained Halloween leave quickly spread through Gryffindor Tower.
The little lions were openly envious.
Sure, staying at Hogwarts could mean the best Halloween they'd ever had—but sneaking out and roaming free? For Gryffindors who craved freedom, that temptation was unbeatable.
Still, anyone who'd spent time in the common room lately had seen how late Ron stayed up every night, grinding Wizard's Chess patterns.
His effort was obvious.
Ron going to compete earned the whole House's blessing.
Even Fred and George—usually the noisiest troublemakers—threw arms around Ron's shoulders.
"Bring back the championship."
"Runner-up is fine too."
"Third place works."
"Just don't come back sniffling and crying."
"Ron, you've got this. I've never seen anyone play Wizard's Chess better than you!"
But Gryffindor students weren't the only ones happy about Theodore's group leaving the castle.
In Quirrell's office, the man was practically vibrating with excitement as he hurried to report.
"My Lord—I've confirmed it. Theodore Ashbourne and Harry Potter's group will leave Hogwarts before Halloween."
Voldemort, who'd been about to punish Quirrell for disturbing his rest, made a surprised sound.
"Oh?"
"Quirrell… you've finally brought me good news."
For Hogwarts students, leaving school meant the protective wards and "safety enchantments" around them were all but stripped away.
And without professors nearby, the odds of dying in danger rose sharply.
Over the years, other than Moaning Myrtle, nearly every recorded student death had occurred off-campus.
Still, Voldemort's suspicious nature flared—was this Dumbledore's trap?
But Quirrell swore confidently, "Impossible. Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Snape—everyone will be attending the Halloween Feast. There's no way anyone will be lying in wait around those children."
Voldemort nodded slowly, murderous intent almost solid in his gaze.
"Then this is indeed an opportunity we cannot miss."
"But I cannot waste more strength acting personally. Leaving Hogwarts will only draw suspicion. Quirrell—what is your idea?"
Quirrell's face lit up with smug pride, the classic Ravenclaw confidence of someone presenting a report.
He produced a plan protected by secrecy charms and began explaining.
"Of course, my Lord. Planning is Ravenclaw's specialty."
"First: the feasibility study for killing Theodore Ashbourne and Harry Potter off campus…"
"Theodore Ashbourne is, without question, a monster of a child. His strength has already surpassed my imagination."
"Under normal circumstances, killing him at Hogwarts would be difficult. But him leaving—while carrying those children—creates feasibility."
"He is strong, but Harry Potter and the others are not. They are burdens. That is feasibility point one."
"He is too young; his mindset is still immature. When faced with life-and-death and his friends' danger, he is likely to lose composure. That is feasibility point two."
"And his relationship with those children is too close. He will not abandon them and flee alone. That is feasibility point three."
"Based on this, I suggest we offer an enormous bounty to dark wizards—targeting not only Theodore Ashbourne, but also Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger."
"And beyond that—invite the infamous werewolf Fenrir Greyback, along with his fellow werewolves."
Voldemort finally smiled.
"Good. Very good."
"Your plan is excellent, Quirrell. This may truly succeed in killing Theodore Ashbourne."
"And even if it doesn't—make him pay a price he will never forget."
"Let his friends die in front of him… or be turned into werewolves forever, so he spends the rest of his life drowning in guilt and pain!"
At that very moment, Theodore's expression flickered. His gaze dropped to the System pane.
A blood-red warning appeared.
[The Duobao Daoren incarnation's killing intent toward you has not diminished. You have become this incarnation's inner demon.]
[If he does not kill you, his thoughts will never be unblocked.]
[Detected: you will soon leave the Jade Void Palace with Nezha, Lei Zhenzi, and others to travel outside.]
[The Duobao Daoren incarnation believes this is the best moment to kill you.]
[He has secretly contacted demonic and heterodox forces, weaving a net that covers heaven and earth—he swears to slaughter you beyond the Jade Void Palace!]
Theodore narrowed his eyes, ignoring the warning as a cold smile curved at his lips.
"So Voldemort still won't give up."
"But have you heard this saying?"
"When you stare into the abyss… the abyss stares back."
"The Nail-Head Seven Arrows Book—its first use in the wizarding world… will be tested on you, Voldemort."
Over the next few days, as the holiday drew closer, Theodore busied himself preparing the materials.
This curse-killing method was technically a spell, but it was closer to a ritual: setting up an altar, making a straw effigy, crafting special talisman-arrows.
Fortunately, Theodore wasn't trying to curse-kill a quasi-saint. He only wanted Voldemort to suffer a painful lesson—so the requirements weren't that strict.
In just a few days, he finished everything.
Then, he called Harry and the others—who were in the middle of packing—and handed them the bow, arrows, and the straw effigy.
"This is the curse magic that'll make anyone plotting against the Philosopher's Stone pay for it."
"Anyone want to try it?"
Hearing Theodore explain how it worked, Harry stared at the bow and the straw doll in his hands and felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine.
The victim didn't even need to know.
Just this ritual… and they'd be in agony.
Wasn't this basically dark magic?
"So… wherever we hit the doll, the bastard trying to steal the Stone will feel it there?" Harry asked, hesitant. "Isn't that… a bit too cruel?"
But in the next second—remembering how many dangers Theodore had faced, remembering the owlery burned to ash, remembering everything Hogwarts had been dragged through—Hermione's face went dark.
Her eyes turned red with fury.
She snatched the bow from Harry, drew without hesitation, and loosed an arrow straight into the doll's head.
Then—shockingly—she swore.
"To hell with Merlin's bloody head!"
"Drop dead!"
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