"When did you go to the Trophy Room?"
Hermione asked curiously.
"Once, when I was lost in the maze of life?"
"Pfft—hahahaha!"
Hermione burst into laughter at Arthur's words. Her cousin was good in every way—
smart, capable, and outstanding—except for one tiny flaw: he was utterly hopeless when it came to finding his way around.
"All right, all right, stop laughing already. If you keep going, your drool's going to come out."
"Fine, then come with me to practice Transfiguration again." Hermione collected her smile and made her request.
"Practice again? Tomorrow's the Transfiguration Club meeting. I think you should relax a bit."
"But my Transfiguration—"
"Hermione! Trust me, you're already good enough."
Arthur cut her off, reaching out to ruffle her hair. He wasn't lying. Hermione's Transfiguration skills were already exceptional.
After weeks of focused practice, she was now capable of turning inanimate objects into things that resembled living creatures.
Granted, those creatures still looked a little stiff and awkward… but it was impressive nonetheless.
After all, turning a living thing into a dead object and turning a dead object into something that mimicked life were two entirely different levels of skill.
The first-year final exam only required students to turn a mouse into a snuffbox, which meant most young wizards could manage it after a year.
But turning lifeless things into things with the appearance of life required the caster to mimic movement, behavior, and even personality traits.
It demanded far greater control.
Hermione being able to manage this, even at a rudimentary level, was already outstanding.
"All right then, let's go walk around outside the castle."
The two of them strolled out, and before they realized it, they had wandered to the shore of the Black Lake.
Suddenly, Arthur froze mid-step.
"Why'd you stop?" Hermione looked puzzled.
"Hermione, do you think there are fish in this lake?"
"There should be. If you want to eat fish, you can just ask the house-elves in the kitchen."
Hermione assumed he was hungry.
"No, no, no. Eating fish is fine, but what I really love is fishing."
Arthur felt his inner angler's soul bursting into flame.
After his recent taste of a farming game in the Zen Garden, how could there not be fishing?
"But we don't even have the tools. Maybe next time." Hermione was confused by her cousin's sudden excitement.
"Fine, next time."
Arthur decided then and there—tonight, he would craft a fishing rod with alchemy.
As for the Transfiguration Club? It could wait.
That night, instead of venturing into the Lands Between, Arthur lay on his bed thinking about entertainment.
Earlier, when wandering with Hermione, he had noticed how limited the students' activities were.
If they weren't playing wizard chess, they were smacking cards down in Exploding Snap.
And then there were the Weasley twins—constantly pulling pranks.
Their prank products were nearly enough to open a shop.
…Actually, they did open one later.
"Right! System, can you make Plants vs. Zombies real?"
System: … Sometimes, it's better not to try to understand the host's mind.
[Yes]
"Excellent! Make it into an interactive book."
System: … Honestly, I thought you'd ask for a tablet. Fine, I'll make it tablet-like.
[Materialization attempt deducted. Materialization complete.]
[Congratulations, host has obtained: 'Magic Book' ×1]
[Magic Book: Contains the game Plants vs. Zombies 95 Edition. Also functions as a communicator, navigator, and camera.
Note: Magic-powered, ultra-long battery life, can freely change size for easy carrying. A must-have for wizards on the go.]
Arthur: ???
"You call this a book? With communication functions? Who am I supposed to talk to if there's only one of these in the world? MagicBook?"
[System notice: Magic Book can create sub-copies controlled by the main book. Host can reclaim them at any time.]
"Ahem, apologies for raising my voice earlier. Nice work, System!"
Once Arthur got his hands on it, he studied it carefully. It was basically a tablet—
no, a magic tablet.
It could shrink or enlarge at will, was easy to carry, and could instantly scan and store any book just by touching it.
Which meant… if he used the scan function in the Restricted Section, he could copy everything.
The game itself suddenly felt like an extra perk.
Enough talking. Time to pay a visit to the Restricted Section.
He threw on a Disillusionment Charm and made his way to the library.
The moment Arthur stepped into the Restricted Section, Dumbledore noticed from his office.
The section was roped off at the very back of the library, the rope enchanted with numerous spells—including detection charms.
Everyone who entered was automatically logged.
Dumbledore's gaze turned complicated as he peered into the mirror, which showed Arthur sneaking between the shelves.
"Fluent with the Disillusionment Charm, more gifted than Tom, and far luckier. With bonds of family and friendship… Will you still walk the same path as him?"
Arthur, of course, had no idea the headmaster was watching him in real-time, sound and image both.
He knew he'd be detected, but not that he was this exposed.
Thankfully, he didn't actually pull any books out to read.
Keeping cautious, he shrank the Magic Book to the size of a seed and tucked it between his fingers.
He then pretended to skim each book while actually scanning them all in.
Ten minutes later, he had the entire Restricted Section copied.
Turning to leave, he muttered under his breath, "Trash. Not a single interesting book. The Invisibility Section's more fun."
Up in the office, Dumbledore's mouth twitched.
"So it was just a whim for him…"
Watching Arthur leave without a backward glance, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or furious.
That section contained Hogwarts' deepest, most dangerous lore, books on powerful dark magic.
Knowledge accumulated over a thousand years.
And now, for the first time, someone has called it trash.
Still, he couldn't deny—the Sorting Hat had placed Arthur well.
So very Gryffindor.
Meanwhile, Arthur was heading to the kitchens for a midnight snack.
Suddenly, he heard hurried footsteps.
Three small figures darted out of a hallway—Harry, Ron, and… Neville?
Harry and Ron could understand. But Neville tagging along during a midnight escapade? Interesting.
Arthur cloaked himself in stealth and trailed after them.
He watched as they rushed back into the Gryffindor common room.
"Filthy Malfoy! He must've broken the agreement and tipped Filch off!" Ron panted.
"Sorry, it's my fault for dragging you into this," Neville said guiltily.
"It's not your fault. Malfoy just has it out for me," Harry reassured him.
Listening in, Arthur pieced it together.
Just like the original story—Malfoy, jealous of Harry, provoked him into agreeing to a midnight duel.
Of course, he never intended to show up, instead alerting Filch.
Neville, thinking it was his mess to fix, had joined them.
Since Arthur and Hermione had been strolling outside earlier, they'd completely missed this incident.
Worth noting: despite not having Hermione's help, the three still ended up entering the forbidden third-floor corridor—
the one with the three-headed hellhound guarding the trapdoor.
Which left Arthur curious. Since he already had the Philosopher's Stone in hand…
What exactly was that hellhound guarding now?
"Eh, whatever. Food first."
He slipped back out, heading for the kitchens.
When he pushed the door open, he found two familiar backs hunched over a table, busy at work.
"Ahem!"
"Well, well, what two young wizards could it be, sneaking in for food at this hour?" Arthur boomed in a fake gruff voice.
The pair jolted, whipping their heads around to reveal identical faces.
The Weasley twins.
"Well, look who it is—the other half of Gryffindor's twin prodigies!" they said together in mock-dramatic tones.
"Indeed, gentlemen. Might I join you?" Arthur mimicked their cadence.
"Why, it would be our honor."
He sat down with them, summoned the house-elf Meme, and soon the three of them were happily sharing roasted acromantula legs for their midnight feast.
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