"...Hmph, I'm not a dog, unlike that Lupin by your side."
Snape snorted coldly, unable to hide the hint of mockery in his tone when mentioning Lupin. He glared at William, "I suppose you didn't know? Staying with that sort of trouble, a wolf—"
"I know."
"You know? Even if you know, what can you... You know?"
Snape blinked, his eyes slightly clearer, glaring at William. "You know, and you can still get along with him so well?" Snape's tone was somewhat agitated. He indeed disliked William, but his loathing for Lupin reached new heights, to the point of hatred—
And saying this wasn't out of concern for William, but purely an attempt to isolate Lupin.
Just like what those people did to him once—dragon slayer becomes an evil dragon.
"Of course I know, it's no big deal—didn't Dumbledore tell you about the Homorphus Charm?"
William furrowed his brow slightly.
"...He did."
Snape furrowed his brow, instantly understanding what William meant, losing the desire to continue the conversation. He swung his sleeve forcefully, turned, and left the classroom.
William didn't stop him, as Snape's appearance was already unexpected. He turned to Flitwick, "Professor, planning to go in for another look?"
"Oh, certainly."
Flitwick nodded, then handed Neville, whom he'd been thoroughly examining, to Cedric passing by.
This time, however, it wasn't as quiet as before. Accepting the Draught of the Living Death handed by William, Flitwick carefully dripped a few drops into his mouth, then he rolled his eyes and fell asleep noisily in the middle of the grass, his snores overpowering the surrounding little wizards.
Dream Magic doesn't include the ability to lead someone into dreams, so William still needed to put the person to sleep to control their dream. To handle these little wizards, his method was the Draught of the Living Death, though the scholarly name "Living Hell Potion" sounded scary, this magic potion was indeed a harmless drug—
More effective than sleeping pills or melatonin, even if over-consumed, one would only sleep longer, without any threat to life.
Then someone might ask, host, the sleeping effect of the Draught of the Living Death is still too slow, is there a faster and "safer" way to hypnotize? The answer is, there is, brothers, there is... (joke crossed out)
Indeed there is, for instance, during the ship test against those Death Eaters, he didn't use the Draught of the Living Death, not even the "Fire Shield Protection," which was just a blinding technique. He merely lulled them to sleep using some not-so "dangerous" offensive charms.
"Thank you for your effort—"
As a capitalist, William was always good at verbal comfort. He looked at Cedric and Hermione resting with their hands on their hips, offering a smile of comfort, then tilted his head and fell asleep deeply.
"..."
Beside him, Cedric and Hermione exchanged a glance, their faces showing a recent typical Kabuda expression—
Not tired, just unfortunate.
...
"Ah, ah, ah... achoo!"
In the dimly lit woods, Neville sneezed loudly, prompting the others walking with him to look at the boy in confusion; it was already his thirteenth sneeze on this path, yet there was no source of pollen allergy nearby...
"Could it be you're carrying too much stuff?"
Ron instinctively guessed, pointing at Neville's many bulging pockets. Now Ron finally knew what was inside—
But he was puzzled because, after sleeping half the semester and only attending Duel Club twice, which were all instructional sessions with no practical combat, Ron had no idea what those plants were for.
"I feel... achoo—more like someone's pulling my nose. I've never been allergic to these little fellas."
Neville shook his head, tucking the green tendril that had emerged from his pocket back in, slipping a brown-yellow "bean" into the tendril's hold. He wiped his itchy nose, his voice heavy with nasal sound.
"Alright... Harry, where should we head?"
Ron nodded dumbly, ignoring Neville's sneeze, turning to look around. The whole forest seemed eerily quiet, as if it was just the three of them. With the initial excitement and thrill fading, facing this completely unknown territory, nerves began setting in.
In Ron's view, the trio seemed to be wandering the woods aimlessly; how could they possibly find those rings this way?
"...Don't know."
Harry frowned, fingers gently pinching the third nub of his Holly Wand, replying with some irritation—he was still pondering the surprise William mentioned, his intuition telling him William's "surprise" wouldn't be anything pleasant.
At some point, they arrived at a fork in the road, facing two indistinguishable paths, and all three were momentarily indecisive.
"It should be this way—"
Suddenly, Neville, still rubbing his nose, spoke up.
"Which way? Why?"
Ron looked at the road curiously, uncertain of Neville's logic, while Harry also looked at him, puzzled.
"Because... there's a sign here."
Neville pointed at the large tree in the middle of the fork, signaling the other two to look up—Harry and Ron instinctively obeyed, spotting the sign Neville mentioned. A stark, new red sign was nailed to the top of the tree, with a white arrow slanting toward the right.
"It really is... an obvious hint."
The three exchanged glances and then headed right. Before long, a clear area devoid of any vegetation appeared before them, and there, in the center, stood a tall, dark figure—an intricately carved stone statue, holding its sword upright, utterly still.
The golden sunlight filtered through the forest gaps, casting a solemn glow upon the statue.
"...What is this thing?"
Ron cautiously moved closer, then, boldly, reached out to poke the statue's waist—still no reaction.
"A decoration?"
Neville joined, sniffing and touching the statue's arm—though they said so, all three knew it was impossible. How could a statue with no purpose appear in a forest known for collecting things?
Impossible!
Staring at the statue that wouldn't budge, Ron scratched his chin in confusion, his brain racing. Then, as if realizing something, he wiped the dust off the statue's fingers, and the next moment, surprise burst in the boy's eyes—"Look here!" he called the others over.
"A ring!"
Neville's voice was also full of surprise. Instinctively, he touched his pocket, and a wrench found its way into his hand.
"...Why do you carry that thing around?"
Ron stared, eyes wide, at the massive wrench in Neville's hand that looked capable of hitting someone out cold in one swing.
"Better safe than sorry... During the Duel Club, because I kept forgetting things, Senior William mentioned it, though you were still... uh, sleeping."
"...Alright."
Ron instinctively turned, wanting to compare notes with Harry, but realized Harry bore no odd expression. Letting it go, he watched Neville clamp down on the deep blue flame ring with the wrench.
"Click—"
With a light click, the ring... wouldn't budge.
"Can't get it off?"
Ron watched Neville's halted action, puzzled.
"No..."
"No what?"
"Not right."
Harry's voice came as he grabbed their shoulders, and the three swiftly retreated two steps. Before Ron could question, a metallic clanging answered his curiosity—
"Intruder, die..."
A deep mechanical voice echoed from the mouth of the black statue.