With the Twelve Talismans fully integrated into him, plus his mastery of basic spellwork, Transfiguration was no challenge to Louis anymore. He didn't even need to rely on illusions.
But since what he used wasn't the kind of magic wizards recognized, his Trick Points kept rolling in regardless.
By the end of the class, Louis had earned two thousand Trick Points, bringing his total to 189,500. If Ron's broken wand hadn't kept belching foul, egg-smelling smoke and drawn so much attention, Louis would have earned even more.
With such a healthy balance, Louis was already planning another lottery draw soon—better to stockpile rewards steadily rather than gamble at the last minute when something critical was needed.
After Transfiguration, only one class remained for the day: the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year.
Louis split off from Harry and Ron on the way, because he felt the presence of Chuan—finally back after being "offline" all summer.
Inside the Room of Requirement, Louis looked at the ornate ring cradled in Chuan's hands, its large gemstone glinting ominously.
Its aura was strangely muted, unlike any Horcrux Louis had seen before. He suspected the Deathly Hallow embedded within suppressed Voldemort's taint.
"Has the curse on it affected you?" Louis asked.
"Not at all, Master," Chuan replied. "The curse only targets whoever wears the ring. Its core is what you called the Resurrection Stone. The ring magnifies the wearer's desire for the Stone, compelling them to put it on. But I feel no such desire."
"Good." Louis accepted the ring bare-handed, staring at the Resurrection Stone with a complicated expression.
He wondered if the Deathly Hallows were tied to that stone door he'd seen. The Tales of Beedle the Bard claimed the Hallows were crafted by Death himself, and that the one who united them would become the Master of Death.
"Clearly that legend's nonsense. According to the story, Dumbledore once held all three Hallows, at least briefly, yet nothing happened." Louis toyed with the gemstone as he spoke skeptically—but deep down, the thought nagged at him.
He had seen a figure that might have been Death. Maybe becoming its master required meeting Death face-to-face.
And surviving that gaze.
"Whatever the case, mastering Death can't be that simple. Harsh conditions would make sense."
With a flick, he tossed the Resurrection Stone ring to the Mercury-like homunculus of Volumen Hydrargyrum, which swallowed it whole.
That made two Hallows in his possession now. By the end of the year, he'd likely have a third. Time to start planning how to "share the benefits" with Voldemort's fragments.
Keeping them trapped in Horcruxes forever wasn't healthy. Better to let them stretch their legs now and then.
"Well done," Louis said casually. "Now, is there anything you want?"
"Following you is my greatest honor," Chuan bowed.
"Keep it in mind, then. Tell me when you think of something. For now, I have another task."
"Please give your command."
"Monitor all of Hogwarts' pipes. Can you manage that?"
"No problem. In fact, I've already started."
"Excellent, promising as always." Louis gave a thumbs-up. "Off you go."
"Yes."
Chuan dissolved into water and vanished. Louis pulled out his map, checked the coast was clear, and opened a door that connected straight to the Defense classroom.
The Room of Requirement was practically a teleport gate within the castle—once mastered, it made moving around effortless.
After taking his seat, Louis's thoughts drifted back to Horcruxes.
From what he knew, feeding them soul-energy could gradually make their occupants tangible—true resurrection, not just shades. That was the terrifying wonder of Horcruxes.
But a Voldemort reborn that way would be hard to control. Influencing the Horcrux souls themselves was nearly impossible. Only the Killing Curse backed by the Elder Wand, or the destructive Fiendfyre, could force change.
Their nature rejected any outside influence unless willingly accepted—even nourishment had to be consensual.
"In the end, I know too little. If only I had a detailed study on Horcruxes," Louis frowned.
But no such tome existed in the Restricted Section. He'd searched already. Most likely Dumbledore had removed it, not wanting another Tom Riddle rising from Hogwarts.
Just then, Draco Malfoy's mocking voice rang from outside the classroom.
"Harry Potter's handing out autographs!"
"Shut up, Malfoy, I am not!" Harry's weak protest carried through the door, backed by Ron's equally ineffective support.
But Malfoy had his two hulking cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, itching to rough up the red-haired "sidekick." Wands were forbidden in the corridors—but fists weren't.
The childish squabble grated on Louis's nerves. His train of thought broken, he rose, stormed to the door, and kicked it open.
Outside, Harry and Ron were hemmed in by Malfoy and his goons, while a ring of mostly Slytherins jeered and laughed.
The laughter died the moment Louis appeared.
Malfoy shrank like a frightened quail, and Crabbe and Goyle fared no better.
Harry and Ron, shocked, turned to see Louis's expression—and instinctively recoiled. They'd never been on the receiving end themselves, but they'd heard the stories.
Three punches to kill a troll. Even Hagrid would struggle to match that.
"Well, well. You all seem lively. Slept well last night? Looking for some extra-curricular thrills?" Louis's few words drained the fight from all five boys. The older Slytherins scattered like startled birds.
"What are you waiting for?" Louis's eyes swept over the cowed crowd. "Get inside and go to class!"
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