That's Malfoy
At six o'clock in the evening, the Great Hall was brightly lit.
As Gavin walked through the Great Hall doors, a burst of enthusiastic greetings erupted from the four Long Table of the college.
The Hufflepuff badgers cheered and slammed their fists on the table, giving him the most spacious seat in the front row.
Gavin smiled and nodded to those around him, glancing at the Slytherin table to his right.
Cordelia was already seated in the middle of Slytherin, slowly wiping the silver fork in front of her with a snow-white Napkin.
Noticing his gaze, the girl didn't even raise her head, but simply touched the edge of the white porcelain teapot and a plate of scones on her right with her fingertip.
Less than four body lengths diagonally in front of her, Draco Malfoy sat imposingly between Crabbe and Goyle, his right arm still wrapped in exaggerated layers of snow-white bandages, with a black silk suspender hanging around his neck.
Gavin looked away and sat down between Rolf and Ernie.
Meanwhile, across the aisle at the Gryffindor table, the atmosphere was rather somber.
Hermione kept her head down, holding a small silver spoon in her hand, stirring the Pumpkin Juice half-heartedly. Her eyelids were droopy, and her whole demeanor exuded an undeniable sadness.
Harry, sitting next to her, glanced at her several times, then couldn't help but lean closer and whisper words of comfort:
"Hermione, don't be sad. Gavin didn't mean to make that kind of joke. He's been in the hospital for three weeks—"
"It's not because of that."
Hermione shook her head slightly, her voice a little muffled:
"After class this morning, Gavin specifically returned my notes to me and sincerely apologized to me in person. It was my own fault for not being in the mood..."
She raised her eyes and glanced at Hagrid, who was sitting alone at the far end of the faculty section, before lowering her eyes again.
The mere thought of the fake St. Mungo's's diagnosis that Lucius Malfoy had obtained, and the fact that Malfoy had publicly torn up her plea for help, which she had stayed up all night writing the day before yesterday, and thrown into the oatmeal porridge bucket, made her feel as if a huge rock was lodged in her chest, preventing her from being happy at all.
Harry opened his mouth, as if to say something.
But the words caught in her throat.
He subconsciously turned his head to glance at Gavin, who stood calmly at the Hufflepuff Long Table, and then at Malfoy, who was having a lively discussion at the Slytherin table, a very strange expression appearing on his face.
After hesitating for two seconds, Harry moved a little closer to Hermione and Ron, lowering his voice:
"Um... Hermione, when you're eating later, keep an eye on the Slytherin table. There's going to be a good show."
Hermione paused for a moment, while Ron beside her was even more confused:
"A good show? What good show?"
No matter how much Ron and Hermione pressed him for answers, Harry just shook his head and refused to say another word.
Just then, in the center of the faculty seating area, Dumbledore stood up cheerfully, his long, silvery-white beard swaying in the candlelight:
Before the dinner begins, let us first welcome Mr. Gu. Gu back to the table!
A round of enthusiastic applause immediately filled the Great Hall.
When the applause subsided, Dumbledore patted his hand and continued in a casual tone:
"Also, please allow me to clarify something on behalf of Madam Pomfrey-- "
"Mr. Gu only encountered a minor magical accident; he has now recovered."
He neither challenged the escaped Black to a duel atop the Astronomy Tower, nor attempted to sterilize the Giant Squid in the Black Lake, nor did he fall into a coma from poisoning after drinking Severus's treasured shampoo.
"Puff--!"
A burst of barely suppressed laughter erupted from the four Long Table.
At the edge of the faculty seating area, Snape's fingers tightened sharply around his wine glass, and his face visibly darkened by three shades.
"As for the claim that I shrunk him down and then forgot about him in the sugar jar for three whole weeks..."
Dumbledore adjusted his glasses.
"I don't think I've ever had a jar of candy that lasted three weeks."
"Hahaha--"
A burst of good-natured laughter immediately rang out Long Table.
The young wizards under the Long Table began whispering amongst themselves.
After all, over the past three weeks, the rumors circulating at Hogwarts about why this Hufflepuff celebrity had suddenly ended up in the Hospital Wing had escalated to a point of complete irrationality:
The first-year students firmly believed that he had cast an ancient spell in the middle of the night to try and pluck the moon from the sky, but the Magic backfired and he blew himself into pieces. It took Madam Pomfrey three whole weeks to piece him back together with magic glue.
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw even opened betting odds--
The bet is whether he went to the Forbidden Forest to challenge the Acromantula, or whether he was abandoned by Dementor in Azkaban and is now being hunted across the sea.
The version circulating within Hufflepuff is --
Gavin stewed Mandrake like a radish in soup. When he lifted the lid to taste it, the mandrake wasn't cooked yet. He was knocked unconscious by the screams of the still-breathing seedlings.
As Gavin listened to the rumors drifting around him, the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily as he held the silver spoon.
Justin nudged him, winking, "So? Which one do you like?"
Gavin curled his lip. "It's definitely not the one who stole Snape's shampoo."
"Why?" Justin asked curiously.
"Because--"
Gavin glanced at Snape.
He never washes his hair.
"Ah?"
"That bottle of stuff has been around for so long, it's practically an antique now. Drinking it would probably get you imprisoned."
"..."
"Alright, to celebrate this delightful evening,"
Dumbledore seemed completely oblivious to Snape's murderous glare, blinking his blue eyes behind his Half-moon Spectacles, his face brimming with undisguised smugness.
"This afternoon, I went to the kitchen to discuss the secrets of the East cuisine with Pipi, and personally added a Chinese dessert to the menu—I hope you all like it!"
The old principal clapped his hands.
The dishes for tonight instantly appeared on the golden platters on the four Long Table.
The front half of the table was indeed filled with Pipi's specialties: braised pork ribs, mushroom and chicken stir-fry, and steamed pork dumplings, all emitting a wonderful aroma. There were also some common United Kingdom dishes.
But right in front of Gavin, on the largest gilded tray, stood a small mountain of food, shimmering with an eerie amber light.
It was a whole plate of dumplings fried to a golden brown and crispy crust, with a layer of the United Kingdom toffee syrup three fingers thick on the outside, and even several feet long, shiny sugar strands stretched out from the top of the plate!
"What... what kind of dish is this?"
Gavin's hand, holding the chopsticks, froze in mid-air, and he fell into deep philosophical contemplation.
Seemingly hearing Gavin's question, Dumbledore, facing everyone's gaze, explained:
Last Christmas, I had a delicious Chinese meal at Mr. Gu's house. There were two dishes I really liked: red bean dumplings and Candied Potatoes.
Actually, that's Candied Sweet Potatoes.
"But since I really didn't know which one was my favorite, I combined them together--"
"Candied Red Bean Dumplings!"
"..."
Gavin's face instantly contorted with shock and a complex expression. He silently turned his head away, avoiding the questioning gaze that Cho Chang was casting at the Ravenclaw Table next door.
Justin, staring at the plate of dark-colored food skewered with sugar, his face conveying "I don't understand, but I still respect it," cautiously asked:
"Is this Chinese food?"
"This is heresy," Gavin said expressionlessly.
Rolf, ever the adventurous one, curiously reached out with his fork, picked up a fried dumpling with a three-foot-long strand of sugar from the plate, put it in his mouth, and took a big bite.
A crisp snapping sound.
Immediately afterward, Rolf's expression went through shock, confusion, and distortion in a split second. He covered his cheek and groaned, tears welling up in his eyes as he desperately reached for the water glass on the table.
Justin and Ernie, standing nearby, were so startled that they immediately withdrew their forks.
"Is it hard to eat?" Justin asked cautiously.
Rolf took a big gulp of water, wiped his mouth, and let out a long sigh of relief:
"I just got burned, so overall--"
Rolf smacked his lips, savoring the memory.
"It's pretty good, just a bit too sweet."
Justin and Ernie were immediately relieved upon hearing this, and they both stretched out their forks and began to eat heartily.
The crispy dumpling skin wrapped around the smooth, piping hot red bean paste, and the outer layer was covered with a crunchy candy shell. Surprisingly, it was to the liking of the little wizards with a sweet tooth, and soon a chorus of praise for it rang out at the Long Table.
"Is Chinese food really this delicious?"
"Yes, I'll order this next time I go to the East."
Gavin listened to these comments and fell into a deep sense of self-doubt.
Was what I ate before really Chinese food?
At the faculty table, Professor McGonagall glanced down at the dumpling coated in sugar on her plate, maintaining a semblance of composure.
Her lips twitched slightly, and she silently pushed the plate three inches away from Dumbledore.
"Albus, I think Pipi's original approach was perfect enough."
"Oh, Minerva, it always takes a bit of courage to try new things!"
Dumbledore smiled and picked up a fried dumpling with candied red bean paste, eating it with great relish.
Just as the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Long Table were engrossed in their meal, a deliberately amplified, shrill laugh rang out from the Slytherin table next door.
"I thought the principal had prepared some rare delicacies."
Draco Malfoy, holding a silver fork in his left hand, disgustedly poked at the dumplings on his plate, then slammed the fork back onto the plate with a clatter, his face full of sneer.
"It's just a plate of greasy dough wrapped around muddy swill. No wonder, some lowly people who manage to crawl out of bed by sheer luck probably only deserve to eat this kind of pig feed."
The surrounding laughter and chatter suddenly turned cold.
At the Gryffindor table, Ron stood up abruptly, furious, but Harry pressed his shoulder down firmly beside him.
Hermione's knuckles turned white as she gripped the silver spoon, and she bit her lip without uttering a sound.
When Malfoy saw Hermione looking over, a wicked glint of pleasure flashed in his eyes.
Then, he deliberately shook the white bandage suspender hanging around his neck, raising his voice an octave so that even Hagrid at the edge of the faculty seating area could hear him:
"Oh, right, Granger —I forgot to congratulate you. My father just received the official schedule from the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures this morning, and the St. Mungo's's diagnosis of 'severe injury to the right arm, paralysis, and loss of spellcasting ability' has been officially filed! The committee has decided to skip the hearing and defense; my right arm, with its tendons bitten off, is irrefutable proof of that beast's madness!"
He tilted his chin up, his gray eyes filled with the arrogance of a petty person who had achieved success.
"If all goes well, the Ministry of Magic's executioners will be here early next month with axes to chop off that stupid bird's head! As for those worthless papers you sent to Mr. Burke, even if you wrote a hundred more, they'd only be fit to be thrown into the swill to feed the pigs!"
Hagrid at the very end of the faculty section, trembled, his large hand holding the wine glass nearly crushing the pewter cup.
In the end, he said nothing, but simply gulped down a large mouthful of ale.
On the Hufflepuff Long Table, Rolf, oblivious to the sugar strands stuck to his teeth, angrily reached for his Wand.
Gavin extended a finger and gently pressed it against Rolf's wrist.
There was no sign of anger on his face; he simply looked calmly toward the Slytherin table.
Just then, a ruffled brownwood owl flapped its wings and flew in through the high window of the Great Hall, landing directly next to the podium in the faculty section. A letter with urgent information, sealed with double sealing wax by the offices of Wizengamot and Auror Office, was tied to its claws.
Dumbledore untied the envelope, glanced at it, and his smile faded slightly. He then turned to Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout on either side of him and whispered a few words to them.
The two deans, their expressions slightly solemn, immediately put down their cutlery, stood up, and followed Dumbledore quickly down from the faculty seating area, through a side door, and out of the Great Hall.
Watching the three figures leave, Malfoy became even more reckless.
He snorted smugly, picked up a golden-brown, crisp scones from the silver tray with his left hand, swallowed them in a few bites, and then picked up the steaming cup of Earl Black Tea beside him, tilted his head back, and gulped down more than half of it.
After putting down his teacup, Malfoy suddenly felt a little hungry.
But he merely glanced disdainfully at the plate of candied red bean dumplings in the distance, snorted coldly through his nostrils, and casually ordered Goyle, who was sitting to his left:
"Goyle, bring me a piece of that Yorkshire pudding over there—"
"Authentic United Kingdom food is much more appetizing than some of that rubbish Chinese food."
With half a bloody steak still stuffed in his mouth, Goyle obediently stretched out his greasy, chubby hand and picked up a piece of Yorkshire pudding from the tray, handing it to Malfoy.
But just as the Pudding was being handed to him, Malfoy suddenly froze.
Instead of taking the Pudding, he inexplicably raised his hand and tightly grasped Goyle's thick, chubby hand, his knuckles still stained with meat juice.
Goyle froze for a moment, not daring to move, not even chewing his cheeks.
"De, Draco?"
Malfoy, however, acted as if he hadn't heard at all.
Two eerie flushes suddenly rose on his pale cheeks, his breathing became heavy and hot, and he lowered his head, stroking the back of his Goyle- like hand with his fingertips in a trance-like manner. His voice suddenly became incredibly soft and nauseating:
"Gregory... how come I never noticed before that your hands... were so white and broad?"
"Ah?"
Goyle suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, his hair stood on end, and he instinctively tried to pull his hand back.
But Malfoy slowly raised his head.
The harshness and hostility that had once filled those gray eyes had vanished without a trace, replaced by—
A pool of spring water so thick it couldn't be dissolved.
He looked up at Goyle's greasy, dull-looking face, his eyes burning with an intense intensity.
"My God, Gregory... you look so stunning today... even those sexy lips of yours when you chew your steak are making my heart race..."
Before he could finish speaking, Malfoy felt that the black silk suspenders and white bandages hanging around his neck were extremely obstructive between him and his beloved.
Amidst the horrified gazes of dozens of Slytherin students around him, this Pure-blood young master, who just a moment ago claimed to have a "paralyzed right arm and couldn't even hold Wand," suddenly raised his right hand, grabbed the suspenders and thick white bandage around his neck, ripped them off with a sharp tear, and threw them to the ground. He then opened his arms and kissed Goyle on the mouth.
"Whoaaaaaah--!! Draco, are you crazy?! Don't come any closer!!"
Goyle was terrified, letting out a bloodcurdling scream, and scrambled off the bench, desperately backing away.
However, Malfoy, caught up in a frenzy, pressed closer and grabbed Goyle's collar with his "severely injured" right hand.
In just a few steps, he forced the burly man, who was over six feet tall, to the base of the stone wall on the side of the Great Hall. He slammed his left hand against the wall, trapping Goyle firmly in the corner.
On the other side of the Long Table, Crabbe, still holding a silver fork full of roasted potatoes, was so frightened that he turned pale and trembled all over, not daring to take a step forward.
Seeing Malfoy blushing and getting closer, Goyle, cornered and terrified, almost in tears, finally gritted his teeth and raised his strong arms, ready to shove Malfoy away forcefully.
Just as Goyle's hand was about to touch Malfoy's shoulder...
A sudden change has occurred!
The excruciating pain that the Biphasic Transformation Potion had caused to reshape his bones and muscles had long been completely overwhelmed by the overwhelming, fervent love within Malfoy.
Under the watchful eyes of hundreds of people across the school, Malfoy's Slytherin Black Robes suddenly deflated at a visible speed.
The boy's slightly thin frame quickly softened and contracted, and the loose shirt collar slipped down from beside his suddenly slender and fair collarbone.
Her neck became longer and more slender, and her Adam's apple was flattened and disappeared.
Her originally slicked-back platinum blonde short hair grew rapidly under the influence of the drug, cascading down her shoulders as smoothly as flowing gold.
Her slender face curved into an exquisitely beautiful shape in the blink of an eye, her eyebrows and eyes were like a painting, her skin was as white as snow, and she exuded the unique elegance and aloofness of a Pure-blood young lady.
Less than three seconds.
The young Malfoy who had cornered Goyle was transformed into a beautiful blonde girl with a cool and aloof demeanor and a shy blush on her cheeks.
Goyle's large, fat hands, which were raised in mid-air, froze instantly.
His small eyes widened as he stared blankly at the exquisitely beautiful face so close to his face, his mind completely blank. For a moment, he even forgot to push her away.
Crabbe, who was not far away, was also stunned, and the silver fork in his hand clattered into the plate.
At the four Long Table of the college, more than 300 students and professors who remained at the faculty and staff seats were all frozen in place. The entire Great Hall was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
On the Hufflepuff Long Table, even though Gavin had already anticipated it when he glimpsed the color of the medicine in Cordelia's bag that afternoon.
But witnessing the power of these two Potions colliding with his own eyes, he couldn't help but twitch his lips.
He turned his head and looked at Cordelia was in the middle of the Slytherin table.
Cordelia gracefully put down her silver spoon, took Napkin and gently touched the corner of her mouth. Meeting Gavin's gaze, she subtly and smugly raised an eyebrow.
Meanwhile, in the corner, Malfoy, now a blonde beauty, was completely unaware of his transformation.
Her eyes were only for Goyle.
Seeing that Goyle no longer resisted, she used her intact right hand to hook around Goyle's thick neck and pull him down, murmuring in a clear, shy voice:
"Don't be shy, Gregory..."
Under everyone's watchful eyes, the blonde girl slowly closed her long eyelashes, blushed, stood on tiptoe, pouted her bright red lips, and kissed Goyle's greasy mouth.
Click--!!
Just as their lips were about to touch, a blinding white light suddenly burst forth from the direction of the Gryffindor table, accompanied by a whoosh of purple smoke.
Colin Creevey had somehow gotten onto the bench, holding the camera steadily in both hands, the lens fixed on the corner, capturing the astonishing scene of "Blonde Malfoy pinning Goyle against the wall, eyes closed, lips pursed, begging for a kiss, Goyle and Crabbe frozen in shock" perfectly on film.
The blinding flash of light finally jolted Snape, who was equally shocked, out of his seat in the faculty section.
Snape's face was as black as it could possibly be.
He abruptly pushed aside the chair and rushed down the steps, his wide Black Robes billowing behind him like a dark cloud.
He drew his Wand ten paces from the corner and swung it fiercely at Malfoy, who was still trying to bring his hand to Goyle's mouth:
"Incarcerous!"
Several thick Black Ropes shot out out of thin air, instantly binding "Miss Malfoy" from shoulders to ankles, who was still in the position of tiptoeing for a kiss, into a tight bundle, and forcibly pulling her half a foot away from Goyle.
Even though she was bound by ropes, the blonde girl with a flushed face still stared at Goyle, murmuring sweetly to herself.
"Gregory..."
As Snape moved closer, he saw the abnormal fanaticism in Malfoy's eyes, his expression changed drastically, and he forced out an incredulous growl through clenched teeth:
"Amortentia?! Who's behind this?!"
No one answered; only Malfoy continued to call out in a daze:
"Why aren't you looking at me... Gregory, it's me Draco!"
Snape's temples bulged with veins, and he cast Stunning Spell on Malfoy with a backhand, then turned around abruptly, his eyes so cold they seemed to drip ink.
His eyes instantly locked onto Colin Creevey at the Gryffindor table.
"Creevey!"
Snape strode up to the Gryffindor table, coldly extending his left hand, his voice like a chilling wind blowing from the deepest part of an ice cellar:
"Hand over the photos! Now!"
Colin shuddered violently, his neck shrinking back in fear.
Faced with the Potions Class professor who was about to devour him, the second-year student didn't dare utter a single word of protest.
With a pained expression, he used trembling fingers to open the back cover of the camera, pulled out a roll of film, and obediently placed it in Snape's hand.
Snape put away the roll of film and looked at Colin with a grim face:
"Gryffindor, deduct twenty points!"
Only then did he slowly turn around and leave.
He stood in the middle of the aisle between two Long Table, his cold, sinister gaze sweeping over every stunned face in the room, his voice low and menacing like the rumble of thunder before a storm:
"Don't let me find out who did this. If I find out—"
"I did it, Professor."
At the first row of the Hufflepuff Long Table, Gavin calmly put down his chopsticks, pushed aside his bench, and stood up, meeting Snape's murderous gaze with an expression of utter indifference.
Hufflepuff takes responsibility for this.
The entire audience gasped instantly.
Snape's lips twitched violently, and he instinctively opened his mouth:
"Hufflepuff deduct fifty--"
Before he could utter the last word "divide," Snape's voice suddenly caught in his throat.
His eyes were fixed on Gavin's calm, expressionless face, and the words he had overheard that morning at the entrance to the underground corridor suddenly flashed through his mind—
Hufflepuff's scoring hourglass was long gone.
So--
This kid isn't admitting guilt at all.
This is clearly a reminder to him to deduct points indiscriminately!
Snape's face visibly darkened, his narrow eyes narrowed dangerously into slits, and he swallowed the rest of his words, forcing out a cold laugh through clenched teeth:
"Mr. Gu, it seems that three weeks in the hospital haven't cured your arrogance. To pull such a terrible prank in the Great Hall, do you really want to be expelled from school?"
Gavin shrugged indifferently.
Dismissal?
Hogwarts has been the site of countless pranks throughout its thousand-year history.
This is nothing.
If you're really not afraid of breaking school rules, feel free to go to Filch's office and flip through that brick-thick "Complete Guide to Hogwarts Rules and Prohibitions."
Each crime explicitly prohibited on that list was a brilliant idea; taken together, they were practically a "Heaven-tier Technique" of pranks.
However, just as Snape was about to deliver his vicious speech...
Suddenly, a bench was heard moving from the Slytherin table on the right.
Cordelia calmly put down the silver spoon in her hand and stood up gracefully under the astonished gazes of the Slytherin students.
Her silver-gray eyes stared directly at her dean, her cool voice echoing clearly in the quiet Great Hall:
"I administered the drug, Professor. If you're going to fire someone, fire me."
Daphne and Tracy, who were sitting next to her, widened their eyes and almost cried out, as if they were meeting Cordelia for the first time.
Snape took a deep breath, turned his head, and stared coldly at Cordelia for two seconds:
"Please sit down, Miss Rowle."
"Some people just came out of the Hospital Wing this morning, and this kind of thing happened in the Great Hall tonight--"
He turned to look at Gavin.
Even a Troll with a brain full of Slug would know whose idea it was.
Snape first rushed to the edge of the Slytherin table, where two terrified fifth-year Prefect stood frozen in place, and waved his Wand, giving a cold command:
"You two, carry Malfoy to the Hospital Wing and hand him over to Madam Pomfrey!"
Then, his dark eyes fixed on Gavin's face again, and he squeezed out five words through clenched teeth:
"Come with me to the Cellar."
After saying this, Snape tossed his Black Robes aside, turned, and strode toward the side door of the Great Hall.
Gavin gave Cordelia, who hadn't yet sat down, a reassuring look across the aisle, then stepped out of the Hufflepuff Long Table and calmly followed Snape out of the Great Hall.
Bang!
The Great Hall, which had been deathly silent for a full five minutes, erupted into chaos as the Great Hall door slammed shut behind Snape and the two Slytherin Prefect on the other side frantically carried "Miss Malfoy" out of the door.
At the Hufflepuff Long Table, Justin slapped his thigh excitedly, his eyes gleaming:
"Merlin's beard, oh my god, that's hilarious! Did you guys see Malfoy ripping off his bandages? His supposedly paralyzed right hand almost snapped Goyle's neck! And that 'Gregory' —it gave me goosebumps!"
He was excitedly complaining when he suddenly noticed that Rolf next to him hadn't said a word for a long time.
Justin turned his head to look, puzzled.
He was, as if possessed, pulling a crumpled old Parchment from the inner pocket of his Robes—
"Hogwarts Girls' Appearance Observation Ranking".
He held the Quill, gazing in the direction Malfoy was being carried away, gesturing with it suspended in the air, his face filled with conflict.
Justin's face turned green instantly. He quickly grabbed Rolf's wrist and shook his shoulder forcefully.
"Wake up, Scamander! That's Malfoy! Draco Malfoy!!!"
Rolf suddenly shuddered.
He felt a chill run down his spine, which snapped him back to reality. He hurriedly stuffed the Parchment back into his pocket, grabbed the Pumpkin Juice on the table, and gulped down a large mouthful to calm his nerves.
"Heh, you didn't see anything... so pretend I never took it out!"
Across the aisle, the Gryffindor table was also in complete disarray.
Ron finally snapped out of his petrified state. He turned his head and saw Harry next to him, head down, shoulders shaking, covering his mouth and chuckling. He immediately realized what was going on.
"Harry, you knew all along?!"
Harry lowered his hand, suppressing a laugh as he nodded smugly.
"Of course. Yesterday in the hospital room, you chased Hermione out, Gavin gave Rolf the prescription for medicine right in front of me."
Ron slapped his forehead, regretting it terribly, and muttered with a long face:
"If I'd known there would be such a big commotion, I shouldn't have gone out chasing Hermione yesterday..."
Hermione, sitting next to him, rolled her eyes at him in annoyance.
Just then, Harry and Ron suddenly noticed Colin Creevey sitting one seat away.
Instead of being discouraged by Snape's confiscation of his film roll, he pulled out another identical roll from his pocket and stuffed it into the envelope.
Then, he lay down on a piece of Parchment and began to write furiously with great enthusiasm.
The three of them immediately leaned over curiously. "Colin, what are you doing?"
Colin didn't even look up, but continued writing with his Quill even faster:
"Write the press release! We need to get to the Owlery and mail it before the dinner is over— Gavin specifically reminded me this afternoon that such big news has to be on the front page tomorrow morning to make any sense!"
Ron's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he pointed at the roll of film in the envelope and exclaimed in shock:
"No, didn't Snape just take your film roll?!"
Colin mysteriously raised his head, turned the old-fashioned Muggle camera in his arms over, opened the back cover, and showed it to the three of them:
"Gavin modified the camera's film canister this afternoon, adding a linked Doubling Charm! Whenever the shutter is pressed, two identical rolls of film will be exposed simultaneously—the one I just gave Professor Snape was only one of them!"
"Ah?"
Ron stared at Colin, mouth agape, for a full three seconds.
"How dare you lie to Snape in front of him?!"
Then, Ron nodded emphatically with admiration and patted Colin on the shoulder:
"I used to think you were a coward. But after what happened today, I completely admit you're Gryffindor!"
Harry, standing nearby, leaned close to the top of the Parchment, looking at the large words Colin had written at the very top, and couldn't help but read them aloud:
"What is ' Hogwarts: The Passion Winter - Three Lonely Souls Ignite Warmth Between Each Other in the Coldest Winter'?"
"Oh, this is Gavin's advice to me!"
Colin explained as he blew on the ink to dry it:
He said this title would be more literary and impactful, and he specifically instructed me to include a sentence at the end that elevates the theme, something like --
"The three of them living a good life is better than anything else!"
Upon hearing this, Harry instantly recalled the bizarre scene from earlier: Malfoy and a terrified Goyle embracing passionately, while Crabbe, holding a fork, was being ostracized like an unwanted third party.
Suddenly, I felt goosebumps rise all over my body and shiver.
Just then, a soft "plop" sound came from the side.
Hermione, who had been keeping a straight face and looking sullen, couldn't help but laugh.
Noticing that Harry and Ron had both turned to look at her, Hermione blushed slightly, quickly suppressed her smile, straightened her face, and picked up her fork to seriously work on the roasted potatoes on her plate.
Ron leaned closer curiously. "You're not angry anymore?"
"Hmph, I'm not angry anymore."
Hermione pursed her lips and muttered something under her breath.
"... At least he showed some sincerity in apologizing."
Despite her downturned lips, she couldn't help but let a slight upward curve appear on her lips.
Bang!
The wooden door to the basement office slammed shut behind him, making the dried toad specimens on the shelf on the wall tremble three times.
Snape whirled around, his tall, dark figure looming directly in front of Gavin, his dark eyes blazing with fury.
"I thought that lying in a hospital bed for a full twenty-one days would at least teach your Slug- filled brain what it means to behave! But less than twelve hours after you left the Hospital Wing, you were force-feeding your classmates some unknown, highly dangerous Transfiguration Potions in the Great Hall?!"
"It seems Madam Pomfrey only healed your body, but forgot to fix your brain too!"
Gavin didn't back down; he pulled out the wooden chair opposite his desk and sat down, his attitude very proper.
"Madam Pomfrey said during her check-up this morning that I have fully recovered."
"This is precisely Hogwarts' biggest problem right now!"
Snape forced a cold laugh through his teeth, too lazy to beat around the bush any longer, and extended his left hand directly to him:
"One month of confinement! Now, hand over the antidote."
"There is no antidote." Gavin shrugged.
Snape's face instantly darkened. "Don't try anything funny with me. The Amortentia is easy to cure, but his Transfiguration... all my regular Anti-Transfiguration Spell had no effect, and ordinary antidotes didn't work either."
"That's because it wasn't poisoned, nor was it Transfiguration."
Gavin leaned back in his chair and calmly explained:
"This medicine is called the Biphasic Transformation Potion. The Knotgrass has locked his soul and physical appearance Anchor Point, Moonstone Powder has fixed the effects for twelve hours. Before this time expires, any external antidote that forcibly intervenes will cause the two opposing forces of the medicine to become unbalanced; when the effects wear off at six o'clock tomorrow morning, he will transform back to normal without any damage."
Snape's narrow eyes narrowed dangerously, clearly not believing a single word:
"Do you think I'd leave a Slytherin student waiting in the Hospital Wing for twelve hours just because of your empty words? Hand over the complete prescription; I want to verify it myself."
Gavin, seeing his expression, already understood—
The fish has taken the bait.
He didn't reach for the Parchment in his pocket; instead, he lightly tapped the armrest with his finger and looked up at Snape:
"I can give you the prescription, Professor. But before that, I must remind you that you still owe me a research result—that blue potion, remember?"
Snape's outstretched fingers froze slightly.
There was a two-second silence in the office.
Snape withdrew his hand, tucking it into the wide sleeves of his Black Robes, and said coldly:
"According to the Contract, I am obligated to share my research findings with you. But unfortunately, Mr. Gu, there are currently no definitive conclusions that can be called 'results'."
He paused, his tone stiff:
"There are only some unconfirmed hypotheses that lack control samples."
Gavin frowned slightly.
Normally, he could have patiently waited for Snape to finish completing hundreds of experiments.
But now it concerns Cordelia; every day that's delayed, there's an increased risk to her health.
Even if it's just a vague idea in Snape's mind, he has to get his hands on it tonight.
"Then let's trade our guesses."
Gavin leaned forward slightly, looking at him and saying each word carefully:
"I wrote down the complete prescription for the Biphasic Transformation Potion for you word for word, and you told me all your speculations, evidence, and old information about that pale blue potion over the past month without reservation."
Snape's eyes turned cold, and a chilling, mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips:
"Recognize your own situation, Mr. Gu."
"You're the student who broke the school rules. I'm not trying to bargain with you—I can go straight to Dumbledore and have you expelled."
Gavin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed, and calmly shrugged:
"Only I know the prescription, Professor. If you fire me, you really won't get it."
Snape narrowed his eyes, his gaze becoming even more dangerous.
The next second, a sharp, needle-like, silent Magic pierced Gavin's eyes—
However, Legilimency was applied to those calm black eyes, it was like a mud ox entering the sea, crashing into a vast emptiness, having no effect whatsoever.
Snape frowned, his cold gaze sweeping over the lockers behind him.
Just as he was seriously considering whether to simply use Veritaserum to pry the kid's mouth open, Gavin slowly and deliberately spoke:
Don't you want to know where this prescription came from?
Snape let out a cold laugh, "What, did Merlin teach you this in a dream?"
"More or less."
Gavin met his gaze and slowly tossed out another heavyweight:
"During the three weeks I was in a coma, I went to another world—where Harry was a girl named Harley."
"Another world?"
Snape's lips curled into a chilling, sarcastic smile, "It seems Madam Pomfrey really needs to prescribe some medication for your delusions, Mr. Gu. Do you think I'd be foolish enough to believe such a thing—"
He stopped abruptly halfway through his sarcastic remark.
"... Harley? A girl?"
Snape frowned sharply, involuntarily thinking of the potion, and stared intently at Gavin.
You mean?
"That's right." Gavin nodded frankly.
He didn't tell a single lie.
He did indeed go to another world, where Harry was indeed a girl named Harley.
However, when this way of organizing language fell into Snape's ears, it caused the Potions Master to have a completely different misunderstanding.
Behind the desk, Snape's pupils contracted slightly.
Harry Potter from another world, could it be --
Was this potion used to turn someone into a girl?
But--
Why?
The Prophecy from years ago flashed through Snape's mind instantly—
"A boy born at the end of July".
In another world, the other party actually used this method to turn a "boy" into a "girl" in order to evade the Dark Lord's pursuit?
This seems to be --
Is it really possible?
"So that's how it works?" Snape murmured to himself.
With this thought in mind, an extremely audacious idea, one that even made him gasp for breath, uncontrollably entered Snape's mind:
If this trick can help me escape the Dark Lord's pursuit... then in this world, to protect Lily's child, can't I also do the same?
The thought of that arrogant boy with James Potter's hateful face turning into a quiet "Harley" with Lily's emerald green eyes after drinking Potions is unbearable.
Snape's fingers tightened around his Wand, a strange and inexplicable stirring rising within him.
A subtle atmosphere settled over the basement office.
Several seconds passed before Snape suddenly looked away, as if to hide something, and let out a cold snort.
Then, he waved his Wand and pulled a blank Parchment of Contract from the drawer, slamming it onto the table with a "thud."
"... Take a pen."
Gavin wrote down the additional terms and pushed the Parchment over.
Snape's pen stopped.
Cross out the clause exempting you from solitary confinement.
Gavin glanced at him.
I thought it was a free gift.
Snape pushed the Parchment back.
"Rewrite."
Gavin rewrote a new one, and the two added supplementary clauses regarding confidentiality and the exchange of speculation to the old Contract they had signed at the beginning of the semester.
The faint glow of the Contract's formation vanished on the paper.
Snape put away his Quill and turned to walk to the dark locker behind his desk, which was protected by multiple layers of Protective Charm.
With a few taps of the Wand, the cabinet door slid open silently.
Snape took out the Crystal Bottle that Gavin had given him before the start of the school year from the innermost compartment, walked back and placed it on the table between the two of them.
The small amount of pale blue liquid that was originally left had been almost entirely consumed during the past month of testing. Under the dim light of the basement wall lamp, the remaining liquid still emitted a faint and strange Lumos.
"In the past month or so, I've used a total of thirty-six different advanced developing and component separation chemicals."
Snape looked at the Crystal Bottle, his voice low:
"Based on your previous description of the effects of taking it, and combined with the Magic activity I measured, I found only one thing that matches it among the several Middle Ages manuscript fragments left by the successive heads of Slytherin."
Gavin's eyes narrowed slightly. "What is it?"
"Apocalypse Potion."
Snape lifted his eyelids, his dark eyes reflecting that eerie blue light.
"Or, according to the name left by earlier Europe Alchemy — 'Wizard's Water'."
"Wizard's Water?" Gavin repeated softly.
Middle Ages Alchemy believed that a wizard's body and Magic vessel would completely solidify upon reaching adulthood, and no amount of nourishing Potions could expand them further.
Snape tapped his fingertip lightly on the table, his voice low and cold:
"Except for 'Wizard's Water.' The manuscript claims it's brewed with some unknown forbidden ingredient, specifically designed to forcibly tear open a wizard's Magic talents and life potential—"
"As long as you endure the initial excruciating pain and fervor, even a depleted and damaged body and life force will experience a second growth, as if you have received a divine revelation."
Gavin's fingers, resting on his knees, tightened.
Breaking through the solidified boundaries of the container, allowing the damaged body and the essence of life to undergo a second growth?
Isn't this exactly the key he's been searching for—the key to completely replenish and even expand the essence of life?
"Since you can match 'Wizard's Water,' have you reverse-engineered its main ingredients and formula?" Gavin immediately pressed for an answer.
However, Snape shook his head.
A strange, even absurd and fearful expression appeared on his face. He stretched out his withered fingers and pushed the Crystal Bottle half an inch towards Gavin.
"If it had a recipe."
Snape said coldly:
"Based on your description, it does resemble 'Wizard's Water'. But strangely, in all my tests, it doesn't conform to any of the reactions required by Potions."
Gavin paused slightly, then asked, "What do you mean?"
The basement office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Snape raised his eyelids and glanced at him, then his gaze returned to the faint blue light that swirled at the bottom of the bottle.
"I suspect this thing was never even put into the crucible in the first place."
"There's no trace of boiling, mixing, or blending of medicinal properties inside... If my experiment went wrong, this stuff in the bottle—"
Snape looked at Gavin, his voice dry.
"It's myself, from somewhere in this world—"
"It grew out."