Avada naturally had no idea what was happening between Crookshanks and Scabbers—but he could roughly guess. After all, ever since he re-embedded a much stronger tracking charm into Peter Pettigrew, he hadn't sensed Peter moving around in that erratic, frantic way anymore. That probably meant Crookshanks had noticed the change as well and stopped trying to hunt him down.
That cat's perceptiveness was downright absurd.
In any case, the next two months passed in rare, peaceful calm.
Classes proceeded as normal, homework was assigned and completed, and whenever the weekend came around, students wandered through Hogsmeade. At any given moment, they could also be found discussing this year's Quidditch matches, next year's World Cup, and the newly released broom that had just hit the market—the Firebolt…
Avada had already seen a prototype of that thing in Diagon Alley. And the conclusion he'd reached with his own eyes was identical to the evaluations published by every professional institution: the Firebolt outclassed the contemporary Nimbus 2001 by a wide margin across the board—speed, stability, handling, maneuverability, responsiveness, everything. And the reason it could achieve such astonishing performance was, reportedly, because a certain broom manufacturer had made yet another critical technological breakthrough…
That's right—the Firebolt's manufacturer wasn't Nimbus Racing Broom Company or Cleansweep, but a completely unknown small team. In fact, before developing the Firebolt, their primary field hadn't even been broommaking at all, but magical plants and synthetic transfiguration materials.
One member of that team happened to come from a long line of handcrafted broom artisans—a family that had once enjoyed a period of great prosperity and accumulated no small number of secret techniques. After achieving that key technological breakthrough, they brought in massive investment and technical support, including from goblins, and somehow also acquired high-end power-valve technology through unknown channels. Only then was this nearly era-defining super broom finally born.
Mass production, however, remained a huge problem, which meant the price of a single broom was equally outrageous. Supposedly, aside from top professional Quidditch teams from various countries gritting their teeth and ordering batches to prepare for next year's World Cup, there had been almost no civilian orders at all. Even so, just those team orders alone were enough to leave the small team swimming in gold—and rumor had it they were already planning to establish their own broom company.
None of this had much to do with Hogwarts students, though. Firebolts were far too expensive to appear in school matches—after all, even the pure-blood aristocrats of Slytherin would probably wince at the thought of buying one with their own money.
So the students simply adopted an out-of-sight, out-of-mind attitude toward Firebolt sales and focused wholeheartedly on improving their skills instead. The most obvious result was that over these months, every House team dramatically increased its training intensity. After all, thanks to the basilisk, last year's teams had practically never been complete, and the matches had been called off entirely—so this year, everyone was eager to make up for it.
The only one truly suffering was Cedric Diggory.
That poor guy was juggling the responsibilities of Prefect, Quidditch Captain, and O.W.L.s, all while taking eleven subjects…
But since it was all his own choice, no one else could really help shoulder the burden. The most anyone could do was make him some good food now and then to help him keep going.
Academically, over those two months, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Remus Lupin missed two classes. Naturally, the substitute teacher was none other than Severus Snape, who had long coveted the position.
For reasons unknown—perhaps because Voldemort had truly been dealt with, or perhaps because watching Lupin meekly drink his potion had put him in a good mood—Snape's substitute lessons were actually quite decent, fully demonstrating the professional standards of a former Death Eater. He didn't force students to study werewolves either, though he still managed to lace his lectures with thinly veiled sarcasm.
…And just like that, time drifted peacefully to the eve of Halloween.
The ban on entering Hogsmeade on Saturday mornings still hadn't been lifted, so students stopped thinking about Hogsmeade altogether and instead focused on how to fully enjoy—eat their fill at—the upcoming Halloween Feast. Against that festive backdrop, Avada remained shut away alone in the Room of Requirement, fully absorbed in crafting a certain object…
"It's done!"
At that moment, he was circling an item on the table with barely contained excitement.
It looked like a miniature Vanishing Cabinet, only about the size of a human head—and without a door. Its surface, however, was etched with numerous arcane silver runes, through which a mysterious light flowed…
"Next—let's test it."
He lifted the miniaturized Vanishing Cabinet and simply placed it over his head.
He stood there blankly for a long while, then slowly took a few steps forward, even trying to wave his wand and cast a few minor spells…
"Perfect!"
Avada carefully removed the small Vanishing Cabinet, handling it as though it were an extremely fragile treasure. After confirming it was sitting securely on the table, he couldn't help but clench his fist in triumph.
"The hardest step is finally done!"
"Next, I just need to miniaturize it further—ideally into something inconspicuous like glasses or an earring—and then I can start assembling the terminal."
"How far can I go… how much truth can I uncover… and ultimately, can I reach that point?"
As the initial rush of excitement faded, he lifted his head and looked toward the wall beside him, which was covered in a dense array of complex blueprints.
They depicted countless components composed of magical plants, alchemical materials, and potions—each responsible for functions like power generation, stabilization, sensory transmission, information conduction, self-repair, and sustaining Transfiguration…
And if all those components were assembled together, the final form seemed to be—
A wooden humanoid body.
"It's time to enjoy another Halloween Feast."
After tidying up, Avada left the Room of Requirement. Passing by the Great Hall, he took a moment to observe—it was already fully decorated for Halloween. Hundreds upon hundreds of candlelit pumpkins dotted the surroundings, flocks of live bats flew lazily through the air, and orange banners wreathed in flames drifted beneath the enchanted ceiling, which reflected a deep blue sky from outside.
"In a few days, Sirius Black should be breaking into Hogwarts…"
He thought quietly.
"Once I personally observe how the current Peter Pettigrew operates, confirm that there are no issues here, and resolve Peter, the locket, and Regulus's matters…"
"It'll be time to move on to the next phase—expanding into the wider wizarding world."
(End of Chapter)