It was eleven o'clock at night.
The dormitory was completely empty, with only Avada inside. Beside him, his Christmas presents had been neatly arranged—most of them were books of all kinds. By now, everyone knew that he spent every waking moment buried in research.
What surprised him, however, was that the Christmas gift Baron had sent was also a bottle of Wit-Sharpening Potion—but not the ordinary kind. This was a luxury version specially brewed by a master potioneer using top-grade ingredients. According to Baron's letter, its effects were several times stronger than a normal Wit-Sharpening Potion, lasted much longer, and came with virtually no side effects. For Avada, who was currently stuck in a research bottleneck, it was nothing short of a dream potion.
Harry had sent him a gift too—a packet of Golden Snitch–shaped chocolates. Avada had no idea where Harry had even found them.
Voldemort, on the other hand, hadn't sent any gift—but he had sent a letter, praising Avada's loyalty and encouraging him to continue working hard…
"Near Yet Far."
A wave of weightlessness and icy cold washed over him, and Avada's vision plunged into total darkness. He reached back smoothly, pulled out the broom he had prepared in advance, and mounted it. Relying on his Magical Perception to orient himself, he soon descended with pinpoint accuracy into the Restricted Section once again. Just like last time, he wrapped himself in a Disillusionment Charm and continued weaving through the bookshelves.
"This holiday, I'm basically turning into an owl—sleeping during the day and living in the Restricted Section at night!"
"With Invigoration Draughts on tap, jet lag isn't an issue!"
Avada drew his wand and selected a book whose title looked promising. After spending some time disabling the various chaotic defensive measures on it, he pulled the volume from the shelf.
"A Detailed Explanation of Advanced Sealing Arts—mainly discusses all kinds of obscure and sinister binding magics, many of which target living beings, permanently trapping them in a specific place… What the hell?! Blood-Curse Beastmen?!"
"Oh—just a brief mention. Nearly scared me to death."
"The table of contents doesn't seem to mention anything about the origin of the soul. I wonder how widespread that Three-Layer Soul Theory is in high-level academic circles. If it's limited to a small niche, I might search the entire Restricted Section and still not find a single reliable book…"
Muttering to himself, Avada sat down on the floor, leaning against a bookshelf as he immersed himself fully in reading. He still remembered that, in the original story, there was something called the Hand of Glory—a magical item that emitted light visible only to its holder. He had deliberately gathered reference materials in the library, replicated the magic with some research, and prepared it precisely for this moment.
He was here to look for inspiration, after all. The more books he read, the better.
…
Harry stood amid darkness and silence, his heart pounding with excitement—so much so that even his breathing began to quicken uncontrollably. He had to take slow, careful breaths to avoid making any noticeable sound.
With the Invisibility Cloak on, all of Hogwarts was open to him. He could go anywhere—anywhere at all. Filch would never know.
Where should he go?
Right—the Restricted Section of the library. He could read to his heart's content until he finally figured out who Nicolas Flamel really was.
Pulling the Invisibility Cloak tightly around himself, Harry moved forward. The library at night was pitch-black, eerie and unsettling. He gripped a lantern in his hand, walking along row after row of bookshelves by its guidance. At the same time, he lifted a small corner of the cloak, letting just a sliver of light spill out. That way, the glow would illuminate only what he wanted to see, rather than making the lantern look like it was floating in midair—a truly spine-chilling sight…
The Restricted Section lay at the back of the library. Harry carefully stepped over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the collection, raised the lantern, and read the titles. Yet the names offered no clues. The peeling, faded gold lettering spelled words Harry couldn't understand at all. Some books had no titles whatsoever. One had a dark stain on it that looked disturbingly like dried blood, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Worse still, he felt as though faint whispers were drifting from the books themselves, as if they knew someone who shouldn't be there was standing among them. Perhaps it was just his imagination—or perhaps not.
Suddenly, he noticed a vast patch of shadow—one that even his lantern couldn't illuminate. And what made it even more terrifying was that, at the center of that darkness, a book was floating in midair. It lay open, its pages occasionally turning by themselves with a crisp yet subtle rustling sound…
He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out, instinctively stepping back.
But driven by some unnameable impulse, he instead halted his retreat and began to move slowly toward the eerie book.
What kind of book floats on its own?Could it be that this book contains information about Nicolas Flamel? Maybe it knew I was coming and has been waiting here for me—just like my wand…
Thinking this, he crept closer, then extended one hand from beneath the Invisibility Cloak, reaching to take the book—
"Bloody hell!!"
…
Avada nearly jumped out of his skin.
Who could understand this? He had been completely absorbed in reading when, out of nowhere, a hand appeared silently right in front of him!
And when he jerked in fright and followed that hand upward with his eyes, he was horrified to discover that, at some unknown point, a Thestral had appeared right beside him!
That chaotic, incomprehensible magical structure—the fact that it could even move was astonishing—if that wasn't a Thestral, what was?
Wait… not exactly. It was similar, but not quite the same. The structure was slightly more orderly, with subtle differences in its overall composition. Most importantly, the mental energy beneath that magical structure carried a strangely familiar sense of dissonance. And when Avada blurted out in shock, that thing leapt backward several meters in fright—definitely not something a Thestral would do…
"Harry?"
"…Ken?"
They both froze for a moment. Then Harry lifted the Invisibility Cloak, Avada dispelled his Disillusionment Charm, and the two of them collapsed onto the floor, sitting several meters apart and staring at each other in silence.
Why is Ken here? And how can he turn invisible? Does he have an Invisibility Cloak too?
That was Harry's thought.
Why is this kid here again?! Didn't I already give him a book with detailed information about Nicolas Flamel?! Why?!
That was Avada's.
But his irritation came to an abrupt halt.
Because his Magical Perception suddenly detected something behind Harry—some distance away. At some point, an immense mental presence had appeared out of thin air, vast and majestic like a star itself, cloaked in the magic of a Disillusionment Charm. Within that grand, golden radiance, traces of surprise, confusion, and curiosity were unmistakably revealed…
Dum—Dumbledore.
Dumbledore had seen him.
Seen him appear silently in the Restricted Section, wielding a Disillusionment Charm that should have been tightly regulated, using magic akin to the Hand of Glory, and holding a dangerous restricted book in his hands…
Why was Dumbledore here?!
Oh—right. He was the one who had given Harry the Invisibility Cloak. And in the original story, he really had been secretly watching Harry, even knowing what Ron would see in the Mirror…
So what now?
Put on an act—or come clean?
And if he acted, how much should he reveal?
And Harry was right here, too!
(End of Chapter)