Chapter 191: The Ministry Shaken
"Twenty-one?"
Fudge knocked over his teacup in his office.
Hot tea spilled over the documents, soaking the header "Statement on Hogwarts Dementor Garrisoning." Two observers stood before the desk, their faces whiter than parchment.
The short, stout observer's voice was weak.
"Yes, Minister. Plus three on the train, and twenty-one by the lake. Additionally, an individual from the depths of Azkaban had its core extracted; its status is unknown."
Fudge gripped the back of his chair.
"What do you mean,'status unknown'?"
The tall, thin observer swallowed hard.
"It was put into a bottle by Mr. Malfoy."
No one spoke in the office.
Scrimgeour stood by the window, the scars on his face appearing harder under the light.
"I told you before, do not use Dementors to test Malfoy."
Fudge turned his head, his anger finding an outlet.
"They were there to hunt down Black! Not to test him!"
Scrimgeour looked at him.
"Minister, you and I both know why those observers were on the platform and why the Dementors were allowed near the student carriages."
Fudge breathed heavily.
He couldn't admit it.
Admitting it would be political suicide.
"The issue now is that Malfoy is illegally detaining Ministry security forces!"
Scrimgeour said coldly, "The issue now is that Dementors nearly kissed Harry Potter, surrounded Hogwarts, and were captured in batches by a third-year student. Public opinion will ask about the first two first."
There was a knock at the door.
The secretary walked in with a stack of newspaper proofs, hands trembling.
"Minister, The Quibbler has printed a special edition. The headline is 'Ministry Sets Hounds on Children, MalfoyBottles Them to Save Train.' Several tabloids have already reprinted it. The Daily Prophet is asking for an official statement."
Fudge's vision went dark.
"That madman Lovegood!"
The secretary continued, "Also, twenty-seven Howlers from parents. The earliest ones came from pure-blood families; they demand the removal of the Dementors and an explanation for the train attack."
Scrimgeour took the proofs.
On the page was a drawing of a Dementor stuffed into a bottle, with Xenophilius's exaggerated caption: 'When Death learns to tap on the glass, does the Minister still dare call this a normal search?'
Scrimgeour's face twitched.
Absurd.
But effective.
Fudge grabbed a quill, then put it down.
"What about Lucius? What is Malfoy Family doing?"
The secretary grew more nervous.
"Lucius Malfoy just submitted a formal protest to the Wizengamot, demanding an investigation into Dementors endangering underage Wizards, and claiming Malfoy Family is willing to fund Hogwarts to establish an independent defense system."
Fudge slumped back into his chair.
This was the real blade.
Lucius wasn't just insulting the Ministry; he wanted to use money to pry Hogwarts' defense away from the Ministry's control.
Scrimgeour set the proofs down.
"Withdraw the Dementors."
Fudge looked up sharply.
"Impossible! Black is still at large!"
"If you leave them there, they'll only become materials for the Malfoys. Do you want tomorrow's headline to be 'Minister Sends Malfoy Two Hundred Test Subjects'?"
Fudge's face turned a deep purple.
He wanted to argue back but realized that headline sounded exactly like something The Quibbler would write.
"Then what about Black?"
"Auror patrols. Normal searches. Stop putting monsters at the school gates."
Fudge was silent for a long time.
"Inform Dumbledore. The Dementors are to retreat to the outskirts of Hogsmeade."
Scrimgeour added a sentence.
"Make it clear that it's out of concern for student safety, not because we're afraid of Malfoy."
Fudge glared at him.
Scrimgeour remained expressionless.
"The more you emphasize you aren't afraid, the more it looks like you are. Your choice."
Hogwarts, early morning.
A flock of owls flew into the Great Hall.
Newspapers fell like snowflakes.
The first copy of The Quibbler landed on the Ravenclawtable. Luna slowly unfolded it, and after seeing the front-page cartoon, she blinked.
"Daddy didn't draw it very accurately. The bottle should be rounder."
A nearby student leaned in, read the headline, and spat out their pumpkin juice.
At the Slytherin table, Draco received a letter from Lucius.
The parchment was heavy, the scent expensive, and the handwriting sharp.
My son, Cassius:
You have done well.
The Ministry is in chaos. Fudge's faction is busy shifting blame, and Scrimgeour will force them to retreat. The Manor will provide the first batch of goblin steel and dragon blood powder for your continued research on Jackdaw. Additionally, the family is willing to fund the repair of the damaged train carriages, on the condition that the parents of all victimized students sign testimonies.
Your father is proud of you.
Lucius Malfoy.
Draco handed the letter to Cassius.
Cassius only read it once.
"Father's moving faster."
Draco whispered, "He'd love nothing more than to grind the Ministry into the mud right now."
Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table as a letter landed in front of her as well.
It wasn't from her parents.
It was a confirmation of a materials list sent by Lucius, with an attached note: Miss Granger's records of the train incident are valuable; Malfoy Family is willing to pay a fee according to consultant standards.
Ron saw the Malfoy family crest on the envelope, his expression souring.
"They're giving you money?"
Hermione put the letter away.
"They're buying my evidence records."
"You're actually going to take it?"
Hermione looked at him.
"I risked being sucked dry by Dementors to record that. Why shouldn't I take it?"
Ron was left speechless.
Harry didn't come to the Great Hall.
He was placed in the Hospital Wing under Snape's supervision. Ron had visited once last night; Harry was asleep, and the Ethereal Blue Brand on his scar remained, like a lock and a reminder.
At the staff table.
Dumbledore unfolded the letter from the Ministry.
McGonagall finished reading and whispered, "They've withdrawn?"
"Retreated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade."
Snape sneered.
"They're afraid."
Lupin sat to the side, drinking strong tea, his fingers still trembling slightly.
"Dementors have lost their deterrent power in the eyes of the students, and so has the Ministry. After last night, many things can't go back to the way they were."
Dumbledore looked toward the Slytherin table.
Cassius was exchanging blueprints with Hermione from across the hall. Hermione wrote down a set of data and sent it over via owl. After reading it, Cassius crossed out half and wrote back three lines. Hermione's face darkened upon receiving it, and she immediately began recalculating.
McGonagall followed his gaze and murmured, "They are collaborating."
"Yes."
"This is more dangerous than them being enemies."
Dumbledore did not deny it.
Enemies cancel each other out.
Collaborators stack their strengths together.
One has infinite magic and violent intuition, the other has a rigorous mind and engineering fantasies. Add to that the Malfoy money, Fudge's stupidity, and the stimulation of Lord Voldemort's remnant soul.
Hogwarts is turning into a new workshop that no one ever designed.
In the afternoon, a notice was posted.
Dementors are withdrawing from student areas.
Hogwarts will establish a Temporary Defense Committee.
Cassius Malfoy is awarded special contribution points for protecting students during the train and lakeside incidents.
The whole school was in an uproar.
Gryffindor was dissatisfied, Slytherin was ecstatic, Ravenclaw excitedly discussed the magic, and Hufflepuffonly cared if the Dementors were truly gone.
In the Slytherin common room, Pansy led the applause.
This time, the applause was no longer just to curry favor.
Many were truly afraid, and truly impressed.
Draco stood beside Cassius, listening to the applause, his chest swelling with pride.
Cassius, however, wasn't looking at them.
He looked down at the Cold Crow fragment in his hand.
The dark red remnant soul fragment inside was being pinned between grayish-Black despair and ethereal blue burn marks, its struggles growing weaker and weaker.
"The first stage is feasible."
Draco asked, "The next step?"
Cassius closed his hand.
"To create the real Jackdaw."
Chapter 192: Jackdaw Workshop
"You want five hundred?"
Hermione stood in the Room of Requirement, holding new blueprints, her voice rising.
Cassius pushed a crate of goblin steel onto the long table.
"The first batch."
Draco was counting dragon blood powder; hearing the words "first batch," the bottle in his hand almost fell.
"Are you planning to go to war with the Dementors, or the entirety of Azkaban?"
Cassius looked at him.
"Is there a big difference?"
Draco steadied the bottle.
"Forget I asked."
Hermione opened the materials crate and saw neatly arranged goblin steel plates, unicorn horn powder, sealing crystals, and Dementor fragments; her breath hitched. She knew the value of these things all too well. The Malfoy Family wasn't just providing funding; they were moving an entire alchemy production line into the school.
"I need help."
"Take your pick."
"I don't want idiots."
Draco looked up.
"Then you can't pick Gryffindors."
Hermione shot back, "And I can't pick Slytherins who only know how to suck up to a Malfoy."
Draco sneered.
"At least they follow orders."
"Following orders isn't the same as being able to read runes."
Cassius tapped the table.
Both shut up.
"Ravenclaw."
Hermione nodded.
"I need three upperclassmen who know Ancient Runes—two for polishing the casing, and one for recording contamination reactions. Seamus can't come; his magic is too unstable, and something will go wrong if he gets near the core of despair."
Draco snorted.
"Pity. I actually wanted to see him turn the workshop into fireworks."
Hermione glared at him.
The workshop door opened.
Luna walked in, wearing a cork necklace, followed by Nora Holt. Nora held a sketchbook, her expression calm, as if she weren't entering a secret arms workshop but going to a greenhouse to sketch.
Hermione was stunned.
"How did you get in?"
Luna pointed at the door.
"It let me in. There are many noisy little black birds inside; I think they need someone to listen."
Cassius looked at her.
"You can see the Jackdaws?"
"I see them a bit." Luna walked to the sealing cabinet and listened. "They don't like being called weapons. They say they are bug traps."
Draco whispered, "She's even crazier than Granger."
Hermione didn't laugh.
Luna's perception was useful for soul materials; this was indisputable after the train incident.
Cassius looked at Nora.
"What are you doing here?"
Nora opened her sketchbook, showing sketches of the Dementor formation by the lake last night. Every Dementor's cloak angle, distance, and range of chill were clearly marked.
"I can distinguish the postures of magical creatures when they are startled, hungry, or about to hunt. Dementors aren't animals, but their group behavior follows patterns. If you want to make counter-weapons, you need to understand how they hunt in packs."
Hermione took the sketchbook, her shock growing as she looked.
"You recorded the outer circle's probing and the central command?"
"Yes. The six in the center aren't leaders, but they serve as guides. They use weaker individuals to test the defensive line, then adjust distance based on the target's reaction."
Cassius nodded.
"Stay."
Draco looked at Luna and Nora, then at Hermione.
"So our workshop now consists of a Muggle-born demolitionist, a crazy girl, a dragon observer, and me?"
Hermione corrected, "You're in charge of being tested."
Draco's face darkened.
Luna added, "And a bunch of little black birds in bottles."
Cassius spoke.
"Begin."
The Jackdaw Workshop began its operation.
Hermione was in charge of the master blueprints, Nora for recording Dementor behavior, Luna for sensing contamination reactions, and Draco for casing strength testing and defensive training. Cassius handled all the high-difficulty micro-carving and core encapsulation.
When the first official Jackdaw was completed, everyone stopped.
It was smaller than the prototype, looking like a black-silver crow feather. A grey-black micro-crystal was embedded in the center, with a buffer zone made of unicorn horn powder, and the outermost layer featured a faint blue seal carved by Cassius himself.
Hermione placed it on the test rack.
"Target?"
Cassius took out a small bottle containing a Boggart.
Luna tilted her head slightly.
"It's pretending to sleep."
Cassius uncorked the bottle.
A gray mist shot out, trying to dive into the cabinet.
The Jackdaw activated.
There was no big explosion.
Only a short crow's cry.
The gray mist was frozen in mid-air, with countless flickering shadows of fear emerging within. It tried to turn into Snape, then a Dementor, then Cassius, but it couldn't sustain any of them. The pull released by the Jackdaw was like a hook, grabbing its deepest instinct of fear and forcibly dragging out a dark gray core.
Hermione held her breath.
"It worked."
Draco looked at the test rack.
"Where's the Boggart?"
The gray mist collapsed into a heap, losing its ability to transform, only twitching weakly.
Cassius sealed the dark gray core into a bottle.
"It's crippled, but not dissipated."
Hermione recorded quickly.
"Effective against fear-based entities. Next time, reduce the pull strength to retain behavioral capability."
Luna looked at the collapsed heap of gray mist.
"It says you're very impolite."
Draco couldn't help but complain.
"Do we have to apologize to a Boggart now?"
Luna thought seriously for a moment.
"No need. It has scared many people too."
Nora drew the feather-like light patterns of the Jackdaw's activation in her sketchbook.
"Its impact on the target is very clean. It doesn't shatter; it extracts the core traits."
Hermione nodded.
"That means it has value for separating remnant souls."
Cassius took out the crow feather fragment containing the dark red remnant soul shard.
"Next step, feed it."
Hermione looked up.
"You want the official Jackdaw to swallow the remnant soul shard?"
"To let it remember the scent."
Draco felt a chill down his spine.
"A weapon can remember scents?"
Hermione answered for Cassius, "It's not memory; it's the adaptation of the runic circuit to the target's aura. It will make it easier to identify remnant souls of the same origin."
Cassius brought the shard close to the Jackdaw.
The official Jackdaw let out a low cry.
The dark red remnant soul shard shriveled as if burned. The grey-black core pulled at it, the faint blue seal suppressed it, and the unicorn horn powder prevented contamination from leaking.
Three breaths later, a tiny red vein appeared on the surface of the Jackdaw.
Luna whispered, "It has learned."
Hermione watched the red vein, her quill stopping on the parchment.
"If a batch of Jackdaws all remember Lord Voldemort's remnant soul aura, they can form a net."
Cassius looked up.
"Covering Hogwarts."
Draco took a breath.
"You're going to turn the whole school into a soul-catching cage?"
Cassius put away the Jackdaw.
"Just to catch one soul."
Outside the workshop door, in the shadows, a mouse-sized shadow scurried away along the corner.
Dobby.
He was supposed to be delivering materials in the kitchen, but he overheard "covering Hogwarts" and "soul-catching cage."
He was trembling all over.
Not because of Cassius.
But because he remembered those things his master's family used to hide in the secret vault, remembered the Dark Lord, and remembered the aura in Harry Potter's forehead.
Dobby had to warn Harry.
But Harry was being watched by the Professor.
Dobby's ears drooped, and tears rolled from his eyes.
"Bad Dobby... Dobby is going to disobey orders again..."
He snapped his fingers and disappeared into the corridor.
Inside the workshop, Cassius looked up toward the door.
Draco asked, "What's wrong?"
Cassius looked back.
"A House-elf was eavesdropping."
Draco's face changed.
"Dobby?"
Cassius didn't chase after him.
"Let him go."
Hermione frowned.
"Are you setting bait again?"
Cassius placed the official Jackdaw into the storage rack.
"The news needs to reach Potter's ears. If the remnant soulthinks it's about to be hunted by the entire school, it will get desperate."
Luna touched her cork necklace.
"When they're desperate, they fly into the window."
Cassius nodded.
"And then we close the window."
Chapter 193: The Savior's Dream
"Sir, Harry Potter is going to be caught in a cage!"
In the Hospital Wing, Dobby threw himself by the bedside, screaming in a low voice.
Harry snapped his eyes open.
Madam Pomfrey wasn't there; Snape sat in a chair not far away, like a black stone statue. But Dobby had used a House-elf trick to shield his voice within the bed curtains.
Harry's scar still hurt.
The Ethereal Blue Brand was like a nail, and the burn marks left by the Stability Ring were like chains. The remnant soul within him shrank into the depths; after a large piece of it was torn away last night, it no longer babbled incessantly, yet it felt colder and gloomier than before.
Harry looked at Dobby.
"How did you get in?"
Dobby covered his mouth.
"Bad Dobby cannot say! Bad Dobby heard Master Malfoyand Miss Granger; they are going to make many Jackdaws, they are going to turn Hogwarts into a soul-catching cage, specifically to catch the thing inside Harry Potter's forehead!"
Harry's hand gripped the bedsheet.
"Hermione is involved too?"
"Miss Granger drew many diagrams, very smart, very terrifying. Master Malfoy said he wants to make that thing anxious."
Harry closed his eyes.
Make it anxious.
So Dobby coming here, was that also Cassius's doing?
The remnant soul whispered, "He is forcing us to make a mistake."
Harry replied in his mind.
"You have already made too many mistakes."
The remnant soul fell silent for a moment, then changed its tone.
"I made mistakes because you are weak. If you had swallowed those Dementors last night, we wouldn't be lying here."
Harry opened his eyes.
Dobby was still crying.
"Harry Potter must run. Hogwarts is not safe, Dumbledoreis not safe, and Master Malfoy is the least safe of all."
Harry looked outside the bed curtains.
Snape turned a page of his book, not looking up.
"Potter, stop pretending to sleep. Your breathing is erratic."
Dobby was so frightened he covered his ears.
Snape stood up, walked to the bedside, and pulled back the curtain.
Dobby let out a scream and tried to snap his fingers to flee.
Snape pointed his wand.
"Immobilize."
Dobby froze at the foot of the bed.
Harry propped himself up.
"Don't hurt him."
Snape looked at him.
"You think you're in any position to worry about others?"
Harry gritted his teeth.
"He just wanted to help me."
"Everyone wants to help you, and then you drag them down with you."
The color drained from Harry's face at those words.
Snape picked Dobby up like he was lifting a trembling cloth bag.
"Who sent you here?"
Dobby's lips quivered.
"Dobby cannot say."
Snape sneered.
"Very well. A Malfoy Family elf, running here to warn Potter. Lucius would love this joke."
Harry said urgently, "Don't hand him over to Malfoy."
Snape stared at him.
"You think you still have the right to make demands?"
Harry lowered his head.
After a moment, he spoke: "Last night... for a while, I was myself. I wanted to drive it out."
Snape's expression did not soften.
"And?"
"And I failed."
Snape said nothing.
Harry's voice grew quieter.
"I don't want to become it."
The bedside was quiet for a few seconds.
Snape tossed Dobby onto the chair, his wand still pointed at him.
"Save those words for Dumbledore."
Harry looked up.
"Dumbledore will lock me up."
"Should you not be watched?"
Harry's lips trembled.
He wanted to argue, but no words came out.
The door opened.
Dumbledore walked into the Hospital Wing, with McGonagall following behind. Cassius did not come, nor did Hermione. Harry found himself letting out a sigh of relief, then felt ashamed of that relief.
Dumbledore saw Dobby, a hint of exhaustion flickering in his eyes.
"It seems the news has already reached you."
Harry gripped the bedsheet tightly.
"Are you really going to turn the school into a soul-catching cage?"
McGonagall frowned.
"Harry, do not use such exaggerated phrasing."
Snape said coldly, "It is not an exaggeration."
Dumbledore sat by the bedside.
"We need to protect you, and also the other students. The Cold Crow Project is still under discussion; it will not be spread throughout the Castle without evaluation."
Harry gave a small, ugly laugh.
"But if Cassius wants to do it, who can stop him?"
No one answered.
The question was too realistic.
Harry looked up, his eyes bloodshot.
"So now you need my cooperation, because I'm the only one with that thing inside me. You want to use me as bait, as an experimental subject, as The Savior, as a vessel. Everyone gives me a name, but no one asks what I want to be."
There was pain in McGonagall's eyes.
"Harry..."
"I want to be an ordinary student," Harry's voice was hoarse. "But ever since I entered this school, everyone has been telling me what to do. To fight the Dark Lord, to accept honors, to endure danger, to trust Dumbledore, to stay away from Malfoy. And now you want me to lie in bed and wait for you to peel the thing out of my head."
Dumbledore said softly, "You have the right to be angry."
Harry's laugh was even colder.
"Thank you for the permission."
Snape's face darkened.
"Do not mistake bitterness for courage."
Harry looked at him.
"Professor, you hate my father, so you've always looked at me as if I were a mistake."
Snape's fingers tightened.
McGonagall said sharply, "Harry!"
Harry didn't stop.
"But I am a person too. I am not James, I am not Lily, I am not Voldemort's vessel, and I am not your debt."
Silence fell over the Hospital Wing.
Those words stung everyone present.
Dumbledore closed his eyes.
"You are right."
Harry was stunned.
Dumbledore stood up.
"From today on, you will participate in the discussions regarding your own treatment. Hermione's Stability Ringplan, Cassius's Jackdaw plan, and the soul-healing data from St. Mungos will all be explained to you. You may voice your refusal, but you can no longer hide the changes in the remnant soul."
Harry looked at him, half-believing.
"What if I refuse the Jackdaws?"
"Then we will look for other methods. But if the remnant soul takes control of you and endangers others, we will subdue you."
Snape added, "In the least dignified manner possible."
Harry gave a bitter smile.
"Now that sounds like the truth."
Dobby sobbed on the chair.
"Harry Potter must not die..."
Harry looked at Dobby.
"I won't die."
The remnant soul whispered deep in his mind.
You will.
They will cut you open, pull me out, and leave you empty.
Harry did not respond.
That night.
After he fell asleep, his dream turned into a grey-Black Lake surface.
Countless Jackdaws floated on the lake, ethereal blue eyes opening in the center of their feathers. In the distance, Cassius stood on the shore, holding a crystal bottle. Inside the bottle was a young Tom Riddle.
Riddle tapped against the glass.
Harry stood in the middle of the lake, looking down at his reflection.
The reflection was not him.
It was Voldemort, and yet it was also him.
The lake surface cracked.
An ancient wand rose from beneath the water, its body primitive and simple, radiating the aura of death.
The elder wand.
The remnant soul's voice sounded right against his ear.
Get it, and only then will we have the right to talk about choices.
Harry reached out his hand.
Just before his fingertips touched the elder wand, a Jackdaw fell from the sky, pinning through the lake surface.
Cassius's voice came from outside the dream.
"Found you."
Harry woke with a start.
The Ethereal Blue Brand on his scar was blindingly bright.
Outside the Hospital Wing window, the first ray of morning light shone in.
A piece of parchment lay on the bedside table.
There was only one line of text on it.
If you want to live, come to the Workshop tonight. If you want to run, suit yourself.
It was signed by Cassius Malfoy.
Chapter 194: Ultimatum! Go or Run
"What Malfoy gave you is not an invitation; it is an ultimatum."
Snape's voice drifted in from outside the bed curtains, cold enough to suppress Dobby's sobbing.
Harry sat on the hospital bed, staring at the piece of parchment on the headboard.
The parchment was clean, and there were very few words on it.
If you want to live, come to the workshop tonight.
If you want to run, feel free.
It was signed by Cassius Malfoy.
Harry gripped the sheet, the back of his hand tensed.
The Ethereal Blue Brand on his scar was still burning—not painful, but it pinned down the dark red mist deep within his forehead.
That thing did not dart around.
It curled up deep in his mind, so quiet it made a chill run down Harry's spine.
The quieter it was, the less Harry dared to close his eyes.
Harry looked up at the black shadow outside the bed curtains, his throat tight: "Then do you want me to go, or do you want me to run?"
Snape did not answer immediately.
The sound of glass bottles clinking came from the medicine cabinet. Dobby was curled up by the chair, twisting a pillowcase with both hands, his ears drooping to his shoulders, repeatedly muttering "Bad Dobby," yet he dared not even touch the foot of the bed.
Snape stood by the hospital bed, his black robes hanging down, his expression even gloomier than last night.
After a moment, he spoke: "I hope you will not let that thing choose for you again."
This sentence was not an insult, but it hurt more than one.
Harry lowered his head and looked at his hands.
These hands had gripped the black-scaled wand, raised blood-stained magic in the Forbidden Forest, and almost went to seize the Jackdaw core under the guidance of the remnant soul.
He wanted to say that it wasn't him.
But he remembered those thoughts.
To win.
To make everyone shut up.
To make Cassius Malfoy look down at him once—not as a joke, not as the wreckage of The Savior, but as someone who could truly stand before him.
This thought made Harry's stomach run cold.
Madam Pomfrey walked over carrying a silver tray. The edge of the tray knocked against the foot of the bed, but she did not stop.
"Sit still, Mr. Potter."
Harry did not resist.
Madam Pomfrey brushed back his fringe. When she saw the Ethereal Blue Brand, her hand paused, then she pressed down a silver needle-like diagnostic spell.
The spell's light swept across the scar.
The Ethereal Blue light pattern did not fight back; it only tightened into a lock, pressing the bit of dark red mist underneath back down.
Dobby shivered, the pillowcase twisted into a ball in his grip.
Madam Pomfrey withdrew her wand and turned to look at Dumbledore, who had just walked in.
"Principal, I need a guarantee document."
Dumbledore stopped at the door.
Snape looked up. McGonagall stood by the door, still holding a quill, its nib already bent by her grip.
Madam Pomfrey placed the silver tray on the bedside table; the diagnostic needles in the tray clinked together, making a faint sound.
"If something goes wrong with that Jackdaw test tonight, the responsibility cannot be pushed onto an injured student, nor onto the Hospital Wing. And even less can we let Mr. Malfoy cover it up with a single sentence of 'the remnant soul struck first'."
Harry was stunned.
He hadn't expected Madam Pomfrey to say this.
Madam Pomfrey turned to Dumbledore, her tone steady: "I do not understand your soul magic, nor do I understand Mr. Malfoy's methods. I only understand one thing: Harry Potter is lying here as a patient, not as material."
When these words fell, no one in the Hospital Wingspoke.
Harry's chest felt tight.
From last night until now, everyone had been talking about remnant souls, Jackdaws, seals, and monitoring.
Only Madam Pomfrey was the first to say "patient."
"Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said in a low voice.
"No, Principal," Madam Pomfrey interrupted him. "I have seen too many children pushed to the edge of danger by adults using 'for safety.' If he must go tonight, you sign. The Professor must be present. The risks must be explained item by item. The power to stop the treatment cannot be solely in the hands of Cassius Malfoy."
McGonagall's quill snapped.
She looked down at the broken pen, then tucked the half-broken shaft back into her sleeve, her voice suppressed with anger: "I agree."
Snape said coldly: "Do you think a piece of parchment can stop Malfoy?"
Madam Pomfrey stared at him: "I cannot stop him, but I can make you remember that treatment is not an execution."
Snape's face grew even darker, but he said nothing more.
Dumbledore nodded slowly: "I will sign."
Harry looked at Dumbledore; his chest did not loosen, but rather became more chaotic.
Because he understood that Dumbledore being able to sign did not mean Dumbledore could control Cassius.
That person never waited for anyone else's consent.
Footsteps came from outside the door.
Ron stood at the doorway, gripping a spare wand in his hand.
His hair was messy, his school robe was buttoned wrong, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His wrist was still wrapped in the bandage from last night that hadn't been removed, the edges of the bandage crumpled by his grip along the way.
Harry saw him, and his throat moved.
He wanted to explain last night's loss of control.
He wanted to say he hadn't meant to yell at him.
He wanted to say he was scared too.
Deep in his mind, the dark red mist stirred gently.
"They have already taken Malfoy's side."
Harry bit the tip of his tongue, trying to suppress this sentence.
But when it came out, it had changed form.
"Aren't you all on Malfoy's side now?"
Ron froze at the doorway.
McGonagall's face darkened. Madam Pomfrey looked at Harry, her lips pressed tight. Snape let out a cold laugh.
Harry immediately regretted it and gripped the sheet: "Ron, I didn't—"
"Don't explain." Ron walked to the bedside and placed the spare wand on the headboard.
The movement was heavy, but he did not slam it down.
"It's not for you to fight with."
Ron's voice was tight, carrying the huskiness of someone who hadn't slept.
"It's to give you courage to walk."
Harry looked at the wand, his chest feeling as if it had been struck.
Ron's hand was still pressed on the bedside table, not immediately pulling back. He looked down at the wand, his thumb rubbing against a small missing piece of wood on the handle.
"I searched for half the night," Ron said. "I turned over every place Fred used to hide spare wands. George almost kicked me out."
Harry couldn't speak.
Ron looked up, no smile on his face: "I am not on Malfoy's side. I'm afraid that tonight you won't even be able to control your own hands."
This sentence landed, and Harry's face went pale.
Ron regretted it too, but he did not take it back.
"When you looked at me last night, I didn't recognize you." Ron's Adam's apple bobbed. "I hate Malfoy, and I hate the way he talks to you. But if he can keep that thing in your head suppressed, I'd rather endure it for now."
Harry said in a low voice: "So you also think I will hurt people."
Ron pursed his lips, and after a while, he said: "I think you are scared. When you are scared, you are most likely to push people away."
This sentence hurt more than the previous one.
Harry lowered his head and looked at the spare wand.
The remnant soul whispered deep in his mind: "Pick it up. Those without weapons only deserve to wait for others to decide their life or death."
Harry's hand moved.
Snape's gaze fell on his hand; the wand had already slid into his palm.
McGonagall stepped forward half a step.
Dobby hugged the chair leg, his eyes wide.
Harry stared at the wand, his breath stuck in his chest.
He saw Ron's bandage, saw the diagnostic needles in Madam Pomfrey's silver tray, and saw the guarantee document in Dumbledore's hand that had not yet been written.
He also saw the step Ron took back when he raised his wand last night.
Harry raised his hand and pushed the spare wand back into the depths of the headboard.
The wooden wand rolled for a moment and stopped next to the parchment.
"I won't take it."
Ron was stunned.
Harry did not look at him, only stared at his own hand: "It's not because I don't trust you. It's because I don't trust myself right now."
The remnant soul's whispering stopped for a moment.
Harry continued: "If I need courage to walk tonight, you standing by my side is enough. Don't give me the wand yet."
Ron's face twitched.
He turned around, walked two steps, and stopped again.
"I haven't forgiven you yet."
This sentence was very blunt, and it hurt.
Ron rubbed his nose with his cuff, his voice dropping: "But I also don't want to see you get swallowed by that thing."
After saying this, he walked quickly out of the Hospital Wing.
Harry stared at the spare wand on the headboard.
Deep in his mind, the remnant soul whispered: "Weak pity will only slow you down."
Harry closed his eyes.
This time, he did not respond.
Snape saw the action of him pushing the wand away, and his own wand slowly lowered.
Dumbledore walked to the bedside, took out a blank piece of parchment from his robes, and then took out a quill.
"Harry, before tonight, we will tell you the risks."
Harry opened his eyes: "Tell me every step?"
Dumbledore nodded: "Every step."
"What if I say stop?"
"You can say it," Dumbledore paused, "but if the remnant soul takes over you and hurts others, we will subdue you."
Snape added: "The method will not be dignified."
Harry looked at him: "I believe that."
Snape snorted: "It's rare that your brain is still functioning today."
McGonagall walked to the foot of the bed, took the guarantee document from Dumbledore's hand, and first wrote the date at the top. She wrote with great force, and the nib scratched shallow marks into the parchment.
"I will also be there," McGonagall said. "If Mr. Malfoycrosses the line, I will stop him."
Snape glanced at her: "You won't be able to stop him."
McGonagall looked up: "Then you stop him with me."
Snape neither agreed nor refused.
Madam Pomfrey picked up the silver tray again and shoved a bottle of pain-relieving Potion into Harry's hand.
"Drink it. Don't put on that Savior expression; I don't take heroes here, only patients."
Harry looked at the medicine bottle; the rim still tasted bitter.
He unscrewed it and drank it down.
The Potion slid down his throat, so bitter it made his face scrunch up.
Dobby immediately poked his head out from by the chair: "Does Harry Potter want candy? Dobby sto—no, Dobbytook some candy!"
Madam Pomfrey glared over: "No stealing."
Dobby immediately covered his ears: "Dobby is just temporarily keeping the kitchen's candy safe!"
Harry should have smiled, but he couldn't squeeze out an expression.
He reached out and pressed down on the parchment on the headboard.
If you want to live, come to the workshop tonight.
If you want to run, feel free.
Cassius's writing was cold and hard, offering no comfort and no persuasion.
Harry pressed his thumb over the signature and whispered: "Then let him write every step clearly too."
Chapter 195: The Workshop's Truth! A Person Is Not a Vessel
"Handing a student over to another student to lead their treatment—this is simply preposterous."
Professor McGonagall's voice pressed down in the Headmaster's office like a taut string.
The fire in the fireplace crackled softly, and the silver instruments on the desk vibrated slightly. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, with the guarantee document requested by Madam Pomfrey placed at his hand.
Snape stood in the shadows, his face gloomy.
Lupin sat on the other side, his fingers gripping a teacup, though he did not drink.
"Preposterous as it may be," Snape said coldly, "currently, only Malfoy's Jackdaw has truly torn that thing from Potter's forehead."
McGonagall snapped her gaze toward him. "Severus, listen to yourself. 'Torn'? That is Harry, not a skinned animal."
Snape sneered. "I am well aware that it is Potter. It is precisely because it is Potter that we are here discussing this, rather than letting Malfoy simply pin him to the ground and dismantle him."
Lupin frowned. "We can assist with the Patronus Charm. I can protect Harry's consciousness at the periphery, at least keeping him awake during the extraction."
Snape turned to look at him, his tone biting. "You can't even suppress a Dementor right now, Remus."
Lupin's face paled slightly, but he did not refute it.
The failure on the train was still fresh in everyone's minds.
When the Dementors broke into the carriage, Lupin's Patronus had shattered after barely forming a blurry wolf shadow.
If Cassius hadn't acted, Harry might have already been Kissed.
Dumbledore finally spoke. "Severus."
Snape fell silent, but his gaze remained sharp.
Dumbledore picked up a quill and signed his name on the guarantee document.
"I will be present personally tonight. Before the Jackdawtest begins, the risks must be clearly explained to Harry. The treatment can be paused; his consciousness cannot be treated as something that can be sacrificed at will."
Snape said in a low voice, "Potter understanding the risks does not mean he has the ability to refuse the voice in his forehead."
This sentence brought silence back to the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore did not answer immediately.
After a long while, the old Principal said tiredly, "That is precisely the most difficult part. We must allow Harry to participate in the choice, yet we cannot let the remnant soul use his choice to escape."
McGonagall's anger slowly subsided, turning into a deeper sorrow.
"We should have told him more a long time ago."
Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Yes."
The word was very soft, yet it felt like a heavy stone pressing on the desk.
At the same time, in the Room of Requirement, the Truth Workshop held no gentle atmosphere.
goblin steel plates were arranged in a neat row on the long table.
Sealing Crystals, dragon blood powder, unicorn horn powder, and Dementor fragments were categorized into silver trays.
The air held the cold scent of metal, medicinal powder, and burnt residue.
Hermione stood before the blueprints, her eyes bloodshot. Holding a quill, she crossed out the third version of the Stability Ring structure.
Cassius leaned against the long table, a black-silver Jackdaw hovering at his fingertips.
Draco was testing the strength of the goblin steel rings nearby, his expression none too pleasant.
Luna squatted in front of the storage rack, quietly listening to the faint noises coming from the bottles.
Nora held her sketchbook, drawing the light patterns of the Jackdaw's activation stroke by stroke.
Hermione suddenly slammed her quill onto the table. "No. This plan of yours is too crude."
Draco was startled.
Cassius looked up.
Hermione pointed at the blueprints, speaking rapidly. "You want to use the Jackdaw to directly bite onto the remnant soul's core, and then use gravity and the Ethereal Blue Brand to crush the outer traction. The efficiency is indeed high, but Harry's consciousness might be dragged out along with it."
Cassius's tone was calm. "And?"
Hermione stared at him. "And so you can't do it."
Cassius corrected her. "Potter is not a normal patient right now. He is a vessel."
"He is a person."
For the first time, Hermione actually slammed the table.
The sound wasn't loud, but it made everyone in the workshop stop what they were doing.
Draco frowned. "Granger, do you know who you're talking to?"
Hermione didn't look at Draco, only staring at Cassius.
"Of course I know. It's because I know that I have to say this. You can treat Voldemort's remnant soul as a bug, Dementors as materials, and Boggarts as test subjects. But Harry cannot just be a vessel. If the Jackdaw tears his consciousness apart for the sake of efficiency, then this isn't treatment—it's disposal."
Cassius did not get angry.
This instead made Draco even more nervous.
Cassius placed the Jackdaw back on the silver rack, picked up a goblin steel ring, and pushed it in front of Hermione.
"Prove it to me."
Hermione was taken aback for a moment.
Cassius said coldly, "If you want to wedge the condition of 'person' into my plan, then prove it with a structure that can withstand practical application. Talk is useless."
Hermione gritted her teeth and picked up the steel ring.
At that moment, the anger in Hermione's eyes did not vanish; instead, it turned into something brighter.
"Fine."
For the next half hour, the workshop completely transformed into a battlefield.
Hermione rearranged three layers of protection.
The first layer used unicorn horn powder as isolation, preventing the Jackdaw from directly biting Harry's own consciousness during traction.
The second layer used dragon blood powder as a trigger. Once the dark red mist counterattacked, the violent aura of the dragon blood would burn away the edge of the pollution first.
The third layer introduced the residual light of Lupin's Patronus, with the Stability Ring recording a segment of silver-white magic to serve as a circuit marker for Harry's consciousness.
Draco's scalp tingled as he listened. "You're putting another life-saving cage over the Jackdaw?"
Hermione didn't even look up. "To be precise, I'm letting the Jackdaw know what it can bite and what it cannot."
Draco sneered. "If Potter actually dies in our workshop, my father will be pestered to death by the Ministry of Magic."
Hermione looked up at him.
Draco's expression was a bit unnatural, and he immediately added, "I'm only considering this from the perspective of family interests."
Hermione pushed a test target toward him. "Then you try it."
Draco huffed, and a drop of compressed water condensed at his fingertip.
The water droplet stretched into an extremely fine line, instantly slicing toward the outer layer of the Stability Ring.
With the first strike, only a shallow mark appeared on the ring body.
With the second strike, the dragon blood powder glowed red, dispersing the impact to three points.
With the third strike, the silver-white residual light faintly emerged, protecting the internal dummy target.
Draco's expression finally turned serious.
"Stronger than the last version."
Hermione recorded quickly. "Be specific."
Draco said reluctantly, "The outer layer's cutting resistance has improved a lot, and the interior wasn't shaken apart by the impact. Although I hate to admit it, your modification this time is effective."
Hermione did not look smug.
She simply placed that Stability Ring in front of Cassius.
"Efficiency will decrease, but the risk of Harry's consciousness being drained will be much lower."
Cassius looked at the Stability Ring and said after a moment, "Approved."
Hermione's shoulders relaxed slightly.
Luna looked up then, her voice airy. "The little black birds will be very noisy tonight."
Everyone in the workshop looked at Luna.
Luna pointed at the storage rack. "Because the snake in the old nest is pretending to sleep."
Nora flipped open her sketchbook and added, "Before a true predator strikes, they often pretend to back down first. It's the same when Dementors hunt in packs. They let the weaker individuals retreat first, making the target think the pressure has lightened, before biting from the edge of their vision."
Hermione understood immediately. "The remnant soulmight feign weakness and suddenly counterattack during the extraction."
Cassius reached out and picked up a dummy core.
"Then we'll let it bite the wrong thing first."
Draco looked at him. "You're going to set a trap?"
Cassius pushed the dummy core into the traction slot, and ethereal blue light patterns lit up ring by ring.
"The process for tonight is changed. Probe first, then operate."
Hermione's heart tightened.
Cassius's tone was very steady, but behind that steadiness was a cold patience intended to force the remnant soul out.
Outside the door, the sound of a bell echoed from the depths of the corridor.
Night began to press against the windows of Hogwarts.
From the direction of the Hospital Wing, it was time for Harry to set out.