"This is... the nth time?"
Grasping Neville's shoulder, Frank Longbottom stood up from the ground. As the man rose, everything around them began to shatter like a mirror, including the few motionless Death Eaters lying on the ground and Alice Longbottom, who still kept her eyes closed. The entire space was left with just a white, blank background and this father and son—
And William, who appeared out of nowhere.
"The ninth time. At this rate, barring any surprises, another ten treatments should do—"
William adjusted the glasses on his nose, speaking in a gentle tone.
"... Thank you."
Frank's face was somewhat pale, obviously affected by those recent Cruciatus Curses. He looked at William, clad in a white coat, almost blending into the background.
"Neville's contribution is substantial, the familial bond has made the treatment far exceed my expectations—"
William shook his head—the method of treatment was to forcibly stitch together Frank Longbottom's soul through dreams, allowing him to temporarily regain consciousness, then materialize the "illness" from his wound (those four Death Eaters), and let Neville eliminate those lesions to complete a treatment.
And each time the dream materialized, the time Neville could take action was advancing. Perhaps, in the end, when they erase these four Death Eaters outside of Wizard Town, the wound that had been open for over a decade could finally heal completely—
Of course, William had intervened once, but his effect in clearing the lesions was far inferior to Neville's.
However, if you want to eliminate the lesions, it inevitably involves "killing," which is no simple matter for a not yet fully mature adolescent...
Looking at the boy's pale face, William paused, "But, the treatment will need to slow down; Hogwarts is starting—"
"I can take a leave of absence! Senior!"
Neville instinctively said, even though he had already experienced it several times, he still seemed like he had just snapped back to reality from erasing four Death Eaters, continuously repeating his words.
"But I can't, Neville." William shook his head, this wasn't a matter for discussion, "And besides, your father needs rest. Although time is gradually moving forward, enduring continuous Cruciatus Curses is not easy for him. You know, every time the 'lesions' are cleared, he regains consciousness, along with all the memory of this period—"
William did not emphasize Neville's own mental state issues, such things couldn't be addressed immediately; after all, these teenagers in their puberty were stubborn one after another...
It would be better to take it one step at a time in the future.
"Yes, Neville, I'm truly starting to struggle."
Although Frank felt that those Cruciatus Curses weren't a big deal, after all, he had to relive them twice every day during this time, and he even felt he was developing resistance.
Yet, looking at Neville's pale face, the man reluctantly conceded.
More important than himself is his son's healthy growth, "And besides, there's still time, Neville, more than ten years have passed, a few more days won't make a difference—"
"... I understand, dad."
Neville lowered his head, gazing at his toes in slight daze, and finally nodded.
"Very well, then starting tomorrow—we'll conduct a treatment every weekend, and Ms. Alice's treatment also needs to proceed simultaneously."
William nodded, snapping his fingers, "Rest well, don't let what's going on here affect your normal life—" With a crisp "snap," Neville's figure dissolved into foam and disappeared. During the initial two treatments, the father and son would sit together reminiscing, but now they seemed to have said nearly everything that needed to be said.
Neville wasn't particularly outgoing, and this Mr. Frank clearly wasn't either—
"Once again, thank you, Mr. Richard, thank you for taking care of Neville..."
Glancing at where Neville had vanished, Frank took a deep breath and turned back to William, the gratitude in his voice unmistakable.
"That's also thanks to his own merit—that child possesses talents that others completely lack. No need to say thanks, you should rest well."
William nodded, and without further pleasantries, also exited the consciousness space.
…
…
"... Finally, it's done!"
Hermione struggled out from behind a mountain of books, her eyes bright and spirited despite her exhaustion, and she called out loudly. But before she could continue, Madam Pince came charging with a feather duster, chasing Hermione, Harry, and Cedric out of the library—
"Ah, that hurts—"
In the hallway, Harry raised his hand to grab the Potions Class textbook that had been enchanted by Madam Pince and had been biting at him all the way, ruefully rubbing his swollen arm.
"So, you've cracked it?"
Cedric packed the stationery flying behind him into his bag, simultaneously pressing down his wildly struggling backpack, and looked expectantly at the somewhat disheveled Hermione.
"More or less, at least I've figured out the markings on the tablet—it's actually a map."
Hermione pulled the quill from behind her ear, ran her fingers through her unwashed-for-two-days hair, and nodded in satisfaction, "A map of the Forbidden Forest, because we had it wrong before—we initially thought they were words, but when translated they were complete nonsense—"
"Right... but how can it be a map?"
Cedric picked up the tablet, examining it back and forth for quite a while as the three headed toward the Great Hall, "Alright, but I really couldn't tell..." as the boy pushed open the Great Hall doors, and the three entered, the scent of food immediately stirred their appetites.
They decisively decided to eat while they talked.
"Yes, but we only need—"
Hermione was cutting bread while pulling the jam in front of Harry, starting to dip it with a fork and drawing on the bread, "We only need to translate these original Magic Patterns into corresponding English words and then arrange the twenty-six letters twice in the order of the typewriter—it's a tool used by Muggles—"
The knife and fork in the girl's hand slightly curved, "Then, connect the first letters of these words, W—A—C—E..."
By the time Hermione had drawn a blurry map on the bread, Cedric and Harry were speechless.
"And then, these two points are the deliberately emphasized and uniquely different places on the two stone slabs—G, B."
Hermione stuffed the bread into her mouth and said unclearly, "These two points are precisely framed on the map, their positions... Well, I think we might need a map of the Forbidden Forest, it's really somewhat... um, abstract?"
"That's outrageous, Hermione, did Senior William really not tell you the answer?"
Harry rubbed his eyes, just looking at it made his eyes ache.
"What do you mean?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows, clearly very displeased with someone questioning the authenticity of her puzzle-solving.
"Because these things don't seem like something humans could think of—"
Cedric was also at a loss for words, staring with wide eyes, seemingly still digesting what Hermione had just said.
"—Because this is actually a stone used for navigation, you will feel the slab warm slightly at the moment you enter the Forbidden Forest."
William sat down next to Hermione with his lunch, handing the bread in his hand to Neville sitting opposite him, "I already told you the competition venue is the Forbidden Forest, weren't you supposed to take the slab for a stroll in the Forbidden Forest?" William wrinkled his nose, a bit puzzled.
Saying that, he looked at Hermione, his tone serious, "Honestly, how long did you take?"
"..."
Hermione suddenly wilted; she decisively lowered her head, looking at the pork chop in her plate, continuously poking it with her fork.
"We used about two weeks?"
Cedric blinked, looking a bit puzzled at William.
"I'm not asking you—"
William gestured for Cedric to shut up, then lifted Hermione's face, "Speak, how long?"
"Three, three months..."
Hermione muttered softly.
"But it's been less than a month since the last project ended?"
Harry clearly heard this, staring with wide eyes, asking bewilderedly.
"Orange has nothing to do with it—"
Hermione muttered, but with William pinching her cheeks, even her speech changed.
"Ha, did you promise me or not?"
William squinted his eyes, staring at Hermione—the girl blinked, sensing a hint of danger.
"I've rested well!" She broke free from William's hand, quickly saying.
"...You mean skipping all the Divination classes last semester to catch up on sleep?"
"How did you know? That woman doesn't call roll, does she?"
The tuft of hair on top of Hermione's head stood up in fright; she felt like she might be under surveillance—"Dang—" "Ouch!" Just watching Hermione's eyes darting around, William knew what this girl was crazily overthinking; he knocked on her head, annoyed, "Give me that stuff later—"
"Um, okay."
The girl clutched her forehead, nodding reluctantly.
She knew very well that once caught in such matters, she must obediently admit fault; no amount of arguing would help, only making things worse—
The few people on the side looked on blankly, but noticing neither of them intended to explain, Harry could only suppress his curiosity, turning to Neville, who had been silent since sitting down, "How's your uncle's situation?"
"Pretty good—"
Neville paused, then nodded.
Alright, he didn't want to chat much either—
Having been observant since childhood, Harry, with his observation skills fully maxed, blinked at Cedric next to him.
"Later..."
"After lunch..."
The two spoke in unison, then nodded synchronously.