Just as Herman was about to steel himself and say "I'll be going now," Marlene spoke up.
Her gaze shifted from Herman's face to his right arm, the spot where he had been scratched by the three-headed dog. It had been healed by Potions, but now it presented a bigger problem.
"About your arm," she said, as if casually mentioning something she'd noticed long ago, "Do you have any questions?"
Herman was stunned.
His mind raced in that instant, as if someone had pressed the accelerator button, with all sorts of possibilities surging and colliding in his head.
What did Professor Malin learn?
Do you know you were scratched by a Cerberus?
You can't ask that now; are you trying to find out if I've had the rabies vaccine?
Of course not. There's probably no such thing as a rabies vaccine in the wizarding world, and Cerberus isn't an ordinary dog.
Is that to investigate me for going to the third-floor corridor without permission?
Where did the news leak out? Did someone trick Harry or Draco into revealing information?
Draco is a possibility, but Harry can't be tricked into revealing information, right?
Or perhaps you simply noticed that your left hand, which you used to demonstrate the spell, was uncoordinated, and you suspect that your right hand is weak or injured?
This is the most reasonable explanation. After all, Professor Malin was guiding him the whole time, and he demonstrated with his wand several times. Although Professor Malin didn't say anything at the time, with her keen observation skills, she might have noticed that his left hand, which he had been using, was not his dominant hand, and thus guessed that his dominant right hand was injured.
Herman tentatively and vaguely replied, "I got into a fight a while ago and injured my hand."
Marlene shook her head, her eyes fixed on Herman's arm, her gaze even more focused than when she looked at the puppet, as if she were seeing something deeper through the skin.
"This isn't about an injury," she said, her tone calm but each word carrying a firm judgment. "This aura, your arm, something's different."
She paused, as if choosing her words carefully, then added, "It's different from a person's aura."
Herman's heart skipped a beat.
Marlene suddenly reached out and grabbed Herman's arm.
That hand was very cold.
Herman immediately felt a chill seep into his skin from where he was being held, like having his arm stuck out of bed for too long in the dead of winter, or like being entangled by something cold-blooded.
The coolness wasn't bone-chilling, but its presence was extremely strong, spreading deep along the lines of the skin.
Marlene pulled Herman's arm up, and the sleeve of her robe slipped down to her shoulder, revealing her entire arm.
From wrist to shoulder, the skin looked smooth and even in the afternoon light. Children's skin is naturally good, so at first glance there seemed to be no problem.
But obviously, such appearances cannot fool Marlene.
She extended her other hand, her fingertips hovering above Herman's arm, then lowered it, slowly tracing it down along his forearm towards his upper arm.
As Marlene's fingers moved, Herman's skin began to change.
A red line emerged from the wrist, as if awakened from deep within the skin, spreading upwards along the curve of the forearm. The color gradually deepened from light red, turning into dark red by the time it reached the upper arm, with a slightly shiny outline at the edge.
Herman felt his magic power uncontrollably converging towards his arm. The feeling of being pulled was much stronger than when he actively used his magic power, as if something was being forcibly pulled out from deep within his body.
Flames are about to burst out.
His body reacted before his brain, like a startled wild beast instinctively pushing its strength to the forefront.
Herman instinctively wanted to remind the professor, but as mentioned earlier, instinct often outpaced the brain.
He had barely opened his mouth, before he could utter a sound, when the lines on his arm lit up completely.
Flames rose from the surface of his skin, more intense than in any previous practice session. Dark red flames writhed along the contours of his arm, coalescing into a slender Fire Serpent whose head lunged towards Marlene.
The Fire Serpent was much thicker than Herman could control during his practice, probably because it was stimulated by Marlene's cold magic and reacted beyond his expectations.
Marlene didn't care at all.
Her expression remained unchanged, as if what was flying towards her was not a raging fire, but a gentle breeze caressing her cheek in spring.
She flicked her arm lightly, the movement as casual as shooing away a fly.
The fiery serpent scattered as if it had encountered a typhoon.
The flame was blown in half, and the fragments scattered to both sides, extinguishing in mid-air without even a spark hitting Marlene.
Meanwhile, Marlene's hand, which was holding Herman's arm, grew even colder.
The chill went straight into Herman's arm, as if someone had poured a layer of ice water under his skin.
Herman felt the magic that was flowing towards his arm being cut off in the middle by something. The pulling force suddenly disappeared, the warmth flowing into his skin was cooled and dissipated, and the red lines that had appeared seemed to lose their support, fading from the edges and slowly sinking back into the depths of his skin, as if they had never appeared at all.
Herman opened his mouth to try to explain, "Well, well, I mean, it's just a little hobby of tattooing, Professor, would you believe me?"
His tone carried a weakness that even he himself couldn't convince, and his voice involuntarily lowered as he spoke the last few words.
Marlene did not answer his lame excuse.
She released Herman's arm, took a half step back, her gaze lingering for a moment on the patch of skin that had returned to normal, before looking up at him and commenting directly, "A very rudimentary and crude modification. The fact that it succeeded just shows you were lucky."
Herman, upon hearing Marlene's words, knew he had been completely exposed.
But his attention quickly shifted from the exposure itself to Marlene's attitude.
She spoke in a flat tone, her expression unchanged, showing neither an intention to hand him over to the Ministry of Magic nor any moral condemnation.
Her reaction was more like that of an experienced craftsman evaluating a rough piece made by an apprentice—calm, objective, pointing out flaws but not necessarily negating them.
Herman secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but still explained, "I really didn't do this on purpose. I just saw a recipe and thought it was for healing injuries, but I didn't expect it to have this effect."
Marlene nodded as she listened to him.
The nod was small, but decisive, as if to say "I understand."
She looked at Herman with an "I understand" expression, a faint smile even playing on her lips, "I know, it was just an accident, of course it wasn't intentional human modification."
She paused, a subtle shift in her tone, "We've moved too fast in the pursuit of power—no, simply in the pursuit of truth."