Chapter 181: The core of despair
"Did you just say... trapping remnant souls?"
Hermione's voice wasn't loud, yet it made everyone still awake in the compartment look toward her.
She didn't avoid their gazes.
She stared at the crystal bottle in Cassius's hand as if staring at an unsolvable problem. The grayish-black crystals in the bottle settled at the bottom, while fragmented shadows clung to the walls, wailing. Their voices were muffled by the seal, reduced to thin whispers, yet they were enough to make those who heard them break out in a cold sweat.
Cassius stepped on the coreless remains of the Dementorleader.
"Dementors maintain their form by relying on negative emotions and fragmented soul remnants. They can suck people dry, but they can also be bitten back by a more suitable bait."
Hermione crouched down, observing the remains from three feet away.
"So as long as you create a false entrance for the remnant soul, it will actively approach and then be pulled back by the core?"
"You have a brain."
Draco glanced at Hermione and didn't argue.
He was still processing the frustration of his failed Water Cut earlier. In the past, he hated Muggle-born overachievers like Granger most, but now he had to admit that her speed in analyzing experiments was far faster than most pure-blood children.
Lupin stepped forward, suppressing his exhaustion.
"Stop. That's enough. Cassius, Dementors are not classroom materials, and certainly not things you can just take apart. The Ministry of Magic won't allow it."
Cassius raised his hand, and the remains were sealed into a third crystal bottle.
"The Ministry of Magic put them on a train full of students."
Lupin fell silent.
Cassius turned to look at him.
"If a dog bites someone and the dog dies, does the owner still get to ask who the killer is?"
Ron helped Harry sit up, his lips trembling.
"It almost kissed Harry."
Once those words came from Ron's mouth, Lupin could no longer speak for the Ministry.
Harry leaned against the seat, his chest heaving irregularly. His scar was still bleeding after being suppressed by gravity, and a red light was hidden deep in his eyes, occasionally flickering outward.
Cassius saw it.
"You've stolen quite a bit."
Harry looked up, his voice hoarse.
"What right do you have to judge me?"
Cassius looked down and straightened his cuffs.
"I'm not judging you. I'm just waiting for you to rot through."
Ron's hand shook as he heard this.
Hermione frowned. "This isn't solving the problem."
"He isn't my problem."
"He is Hogwarts' problem."
"Then let Dumbledore take better care of his The Savior."
These words made the atmosphere in the compartment grow tight.
Lupin looked sideways at Harry.
There was still pain on the boy's face, but deep in his eyes lurked a hidden malice. He had seen this look during the war years, on those gripped by the Dark Arts. But seeing it on Harry was what hurt the most.
A long, mournful wail came from the remaining Dementors outside the carriage.
It wasn't a signal to attack.
It was a retreat.
With their leader lost and three of their companions sealed, the cold wave around the train began to dissipate. The lights flickered back on one by one, the wheels gripped the tracks again, and the Hogwarts Express started moving after a jarring screech of friction.
The students began to wake up one after another.
Some cried, some vomited, and some hugged their companions, asking what had happened. Most only remembered a wave of scorching heat sweeping through the carriage, as if they had been fished out of an icy lake by a furnace.
Further down the corridor, Pansy was shrilly calling Draco's name.
Zabini stopped her, whispering a reminder: "Don't go over there. That's not a place where we can intervene right now."
Lower-year students peered through the cracks in the doors at Cassius.
Someone whispered, "Did he catch a Dementor?"
"Not drove it away—caught it."
"Will the Ministry of Magic come to arrest him?"
"Who do you think would be arresting whom?"
That question silenced several people.
Draco heard them and lifted his chin, about to show his usual pride, but Cassius shot him a glance.
Draco reined in his expression.
"I will remember the flaws of Water Cut."
"Remembering isn't enough. After returning to school, add extra training for mental defense and striking non-physical targets."
Draco's face twitched.
"How many sets a day?"
"Three sets. Double it for every failure."
Draco swallowed his complaints.
Hermione interjected, "Can I observe?"
Draco glared at her.
"Granger, are you treating me as experimental material?"
Hermione closed her parchment.
"No. You're the control group."
Draco almost pulled out his wand.
Lupin watched them, actually hearing a bit of student-like banter in this absurd conversation. But the cracked wooden boards on the floor, the dead shadows sealed in the bottles, and the blood on Harry's forehead all reminded him that this was no ordinary student squabble.
This was a dangerous microcosm of Hogwarts' future.
Cassius tucked the three crystal bottles into a hidden pocket in his sleeve.
Lupin spoke again. "You must hand them over to the school to be sealed and stored."
"Stored by the school, only to be handed over to the Ministry of Magic in the end?"
"According to procedure, it needs to be reported."
Cassius gave a cold laugh.
"Procedure couldn't save that first-year just now."
Lupin's hand on his wand tightened and then loosened.
"Keeping them will give Fudge something to use against you. Your relationship with the Ministry is already very poor."
"That's just as well."
"Just as well?"
Cassius looked up; a gap opened in the dark clouds outside the window, and a pale gray light fell across his face.
"They were the ones who let Dementors attack students. I have evidence, samples, and the remains of the leader. If Fudge dares to make a scene, Malfoy Family will deliver this story to every breakfast table."
Draco's eyes lit up.
"Father will love this."
Hermione nodded.
"The Daily Prophet wouldn't dare defy the Minister too harshly, but The Quibbler will publish it, and other tabloids will follow. What the Ministry fears most is a united front of student parents applying pressure."
Ron was dazed for a moment.
"Wait, so these bottles aren't just trophies, they're evidence?"
Cassius looked at him.
"You finally said something useful."
Ron's face flushed red, but he didn't snap back.
Because he suddenly realized that while he hated Malfoy, Harry being alive right now was indeed thanks to this person he hated.
Harry closed his eyes, his fingertips digging into his palms.
The remnant soul whispered in the depths of his mind, its voice carrying the hatred of being burned.
I must get that core.
It can hurt me, but it can also nourish me.
If I swallow it, I can tear through his heat flow of life.
Harry did not respond.
But his breathing skipped a beat.
Cassius looked sideways at him, as if hearing something filthy grinding its teeth.
"Potter."
Harry opened his eyes.
"Watch that forehead of yours. Next time it sticks its tongue out, I'll pull it out by the root."
Ron stepped in front of Harry, an instinctive move, but more hesitant than before.
Hermione did not block him.
Lupin saw this, and his heart sank further.
The train continued north.
The Dementor incident did not end as the chill receded. News of Malfoy catching a Dementor spread through every compartment, with the versions becoming increasingly ridiculous.
Some said Cassius swallowed the Dementor.
Some said he tore death apart with his bare hands.
Others said the guards sent by the Ministry knelt before him and begged for mercy.
Cassius ignored it.
He returned to his original compartment, sat down, and took out the bottle containing the core of despair. The grayish-black crystals inside tapped against the glass, making small crying sounds.
Draco sat opposite him, not daring to get too close.
Hermione stood by the door for a moment before finally walking in and spreading out her parchment.
"If you want to make a remnant soul trap, the core cannot be released directly. It would contaminate the user."
Cassius tapped the bottle.
"So it needs a shell, a conduit, bait, and a backlock."
Hermione added, "And it needs to be repeatable. Otherwise, consuming the core every time would make the materials too scarce."
Draco watched the two of them going back and forth and couldn't help asking, "Are you two already designing a weapon?"
Hermione corrected him, "Not a weapon, a Soul-trapping Trap."
Cassius looked up.
"The name is too elegant."
Hermione stopped writing.
"Then what should it be called?"
Cassius looked at the core in the bottle.
"Jackdaw."
The crying in the bottle stopped for a beat.
As if it understood its new purpose.
Chapter 182: Accountability on the Platform
"Hand over the bottles!"
On the Hogsmeade platform, when the Ministry of Magic observer shrieked those words, the surrounding students had not yet recovered from the shadow of the train.
Many children had tear stains on their faces, their school robes crumpled into messes. Some were helped off the train by companions, while others bent over to retch after just a few steps. The despair brought by the Dementors was not so easily dispelled.
Dumbledore stood at the front of the platform, his silver-white beard hanging down to his chest, his usually gentle blue eyes narrowed low.
Professor McGonagall supported a tottering first-year girl and turned to look at the Ministry arrivals, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Snape stood in the shadows, his Black robes blown against his legs by the wind. He didn't look at the students, only at the three crystal bottles in Cassius's hands.
The aura inside them—he could smell it.
Dementors.
And a remnant body that was excessively powerful.
Cassius was the last to disembark.
Draco followed behind him, his back straight. Hermionewas a few steps away, clutching parchment in her hands. Lupin looked terrible, as exhausted as if he had just crawled out of a hospital bed, yet he still insisted on walking beside the students.
Two Ministry observers stepped forward to meet them.
One was tall and thin, the other short and stout. Their grey uniforms were pressed flat, and the badges on their chests were blindingly bright. Their original prepared rhetoric was "a minor incident during a normal search," but after seeing the crystal bottles, their words fell into disarray.
The short, stout observer pointed at the bottles.
"That is Azkaban's guard force! You are illegally capturing Ministry-regulated creatures!"
Cassius held up the first bottle.
The Dementor inside slammed against the glass, the grey-blue light mass contracting and expanding, causing the platform temperature to drop several degrees. Several younger students hid behind McGonagall in fear.
Cassius spoke.
"It almost kissed Potter."
The platform erupted into a frenzy.
Harry, who had just stepped off the train and was being supported by Ron, heard his name, and his expression turned extremely ugly. All eyes turned toward him, like countless needles pricking his scar.
Ron gritted his teeth.
"It's true."
McGonagall's face turned hard as iron.
"Mr. Weasley, are you sure?"
"I saw it with my own eyes. It almost touched Harry. Professor Lupin was there too."
Lupin closed his eyes momentarily.
"Yes."
Dumbledore looked at the two observers.
"I need an explanation."
The tall, thin observer's forehead broke into a sweat, but he still tried to hold his ground.
"The Dementors were responsible for searching for Black. Approaching a suspect target during the process is in accordance with emergency inspection clauses. Mr. Potterhas a special relationship with Black, the Dementors were simply..."
"Simply preparing to suck out a student's soul?"
McGonagall's voice was like a blade.
The observer was choked for words, then immediately turned the spearhead back toward Cassius.
"Even so, Mr. Malfoy has no right to detain them privately!"
Cassius did not argue.
He tapped the bottle with his finger.
The grey mist inside the bottle parted, and a residual memory was projected into the air above the platform.
The carriage door frosted over.
The Dementor leaned down.
A rotting palm reached toward Harry's shoulder.
Lupin's Patronus Charm was suppressed and shattered.
Harry lay slumped by the seat, completely defenseless.
The image stopped at the point where that hand was only an inch away from Harry.
The students on the platform fell silent.
They had only heard about it before, but now seeing it with their own eyes, the small amount of trust they had in the Ministry of Magic was pried open.
An inexplicable anger surged from the bottom of the crowd.
"Was that really an inspection?"
"It was going to kill Potter!"
"My sister was on that train!"
"Has the Ministry gone mad?"
The flesh on the short, stout observer's face began to quiver.
"The source of this imagery is unknown; it cannot be used as official evidence!"
Hermione stepped out from the back and handed a roll of parchment to McGonagall.
"Professor, this is a record of the Dementor's chill diffusion path inside the carriage, annotations of the victimized students' positions, and the metal ashing marks caused by the Dementor leader's approach. Samples are still on the train for re-examination."
McGonagall took the parchment, her gaze toward Hermione complex.
Gryffindor's most rule-abiding student was helping the Slytherin Tyrant organize evidence of the Ministry's crimes.
Snape's eyelid twitched.
He looked at Hermione, then at Cassius, as if seeing a new thread tying these two people together who were never supposed to walk the same path.
The tall, thin observer turned hostile from shame.
"Miss Granger, you are just a student; you have no qualification..."
Cassius raised his hand.
The second bottle flew up and landed in front of the observer.
Inside was the remnant body of the Dementor leader with its core removed, shriveled into a bundle of rags. It could still move, and with every movement, grey-white frost marks surfaced on the bottle walls.
The two observers backed away.
Cassius said, "This is the interest."
The platform became so quiet that only the sound of the wind remained.
Snape stared at the remnant body in the bottle, his Adam's apple bobbing once.
He finally understood that what Cassius had done on the train was not driving them away.
It was hunting.
And it was hunting with on-site dismantling.
Dumbledore looked at Lupin.
Lupin nodded, his voice strained.
"This individual was very strong. It was drawn by the wails of its companions and tried to attack Cassius, and it also had an abnormal connection with Harry."
Dumbledore's eyes darkened.
"An abnormal connection?"
Harry lowered his head; Ron gripped his arm but didn't dare answer for him.
Cassius didn't give Harry a chance to hide.
"That bit of filth inside Potter's body likes the despair on this Dementor."
These words fell among the Professors, more bone-chilling than the cold wind.
McGonagall looked at Harry, her eyes filled with shock and uncontrollable worry.
Snape's gaze was like a nail, fixed on the scar on Harry's forehead.
Dumbledore did not press further. He could not press further on the platform.
He turned to the observers.
"Hogwarts will re-examine the Dementor stationing arrangements. Please inform Minister Fudge that I demand a formal explanation, and I require that Dementors not approach the student carriages or the Castle entrance."
The short, stout observer still wanted to use the Ministerto pressure them.
"The Minister will not sit by while Mr. Malfoy holds private custody..."
"Let him come."
Cassius took back the three bottles.
"It just so happens I'm still short a few samples."
These words choked off the rest of the observer's speech.
Gasps could be heard from the crowd of students.
The younger students were shocked by the act of "catching Dementors" itself. The older students began to think: if Dementors had become mere samples, then what were Dark Wizards? What were Aurors? And what was the Ministry of Magic?
Zabini stood in the Slytherin ranks, noting the reaction of every Professor.
McGonagall's anger meant the school's bottom line had been trampled.
Snape's shock meant the technical level exceeded his understanding.
Dumbledore's restraint meant political risks had already outweighed simple school rules.
As for the Ministry observers, they were two useless fools. They had nothing left but shouting; they had no cards to play.
Draco whispered, "Father will make sure this spreads throughout Britain."
Cassius gave a hum of agreement.
"Tell him not to just look for The Daily Prophet."
Hermione chimed in.
"The Quibbler will be more daring in its writing. Add a few anonymous testimonies from parents, and the Ministry won't be able to suppress this easily."
Draco frowned.
"Granger, are you giving advice to the Malfoy Family now?"
Hermione stuffed the parchment into her bag.
"I'm giving advice for the students attacked by Dementors. Besides, it's beneficial for our research."
"Our research?"
"Do you have a problem with that?"
Draco wanted to say he did.
Cassius glanced at him.
Draco shut his mouth.
Lupin watched this scene and suddenly felt that this school year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class would be more grueling than any full moon night he had ever imagined.
Dumbledore walked up to Cassius.
"These samples, at the very least, need to be registered."
"Fine."
Dumbledore was slightly surprised.
Cassius added, "Register them under my name."
McGonagall almost spoke up to reprimand him, but Dumbledore raised a hand to stop her.
"Cassius, Hogwarts is not a private testing ground."
"When the Dementors treated the train as a cafeteria, no one reminded them of that."
Dumbledore looked at him, not speaking for a long time.
Finally, he stepped aside.
"Enter the school first. Affected students go to the Hospital Wing. Professor Lupin, to my office later."
Lupin nodded.
Harry was supported by Ron as they walked forward. When he passed by Cassius, his footsteps paused for a moment.
Cassius did not look at him.
But Harry heard the remnant soul whispering deep in his mind.
"That core is on him."
"Seize it."
"Seize it, and you can tear him apart in return."
Harry clenched his robes, his nails digging into his palms.
As Cassius brushed past him, his voice fell into Harry's ear.
"Potter, don't let the thing in your forehead make too many decisions for you."
Harry looked up, a flash of red light in his eyes.
Cassius had already walked far away.
The students on the platform automatically parted to make a path.
No one ordered it.
No one urged them.
Yet they all retreated.
Because that second-year Slytherin had just put death in a bottle and brought it back to Hogwarts.
Chapter 183: Boggart on Strike
"Today, we will learn to face our fears."
Lupin stood before the Defense Against the Dark Artsclassroom. His voice was gentle, yet it couldn't hide the exhaustion on his face. Only a day had passed since the train incident, and the students' eyes held more than just anticipation.
They wanted to learn the Patronus Charm.
They wanted to learn how to block Dementors.
More importantly, they wanted to know why the Professor's Patronus hadn't stopped that monster, while Cassius Malfoy had caught it with his bare hands.
Lupin could tell.
He didn't avoid it.
"Dementors are not something the third-year curriculum can fully cover. Right now, you first need to learn how to face fear, rather than being dragged away by it."
The wardrobe at the front of the classroom shook slightly.
Something inside was banging against the door.
A Boggart.
Neville stood in the first row, his palms covered in sweat. Ron sat next to Harry, frequently looking toward the back row. Hermione had her parchment ready, the tip of her quill poised. Draco sat upright, while Cassius leaned against the window in the back row as if this class had nothing to do with him.
Harry kept his head down.
The faint blue indentation left on his scar had faded, but the pain remained. More critically, the remnant soul was pacing irritably in his mind. It wanted the core of despair, the Cold Crow core, and anything else that could make it stronger.
Lupin patted the wardrobe door.
"A Boggart will turn into what you fear most. The way to deal with it is to make that fear ridiculous. The incantation is, Riddikulus."
He gestured for Neville to come forward.
Neville walked over stiffly.
The wardrobe door opened.
Snape burst out from within, black robes billowing, nose hooked, and eyes cold and menacing.
The class let out low suppressed laughter.
With Snape himself not present, the students felt a bit bolder.
Lupin guided Neville's imagination.
"Your grandmother's clothes, Neville."
Neville raised his wand with a tremble.
"Riddikulus!"
The Boggart Snape was suddenly dressed in green robes, holding a red handbag, and wearing a hat topped with a vulture.
The classroom erupted in laughter.
Neville laughed too, but his legs went weak afterward, and he nearly collapsed to the floor.
Lupin breathed a sigh of relief.
The atmosphere had recovered slightly.
The students came forward one by one.
Parvati faced a mummy, Dean faced a severed hand, and Seamus faced a banshee. The laughter helped the classroom partially break free from the shadow of the train incident.
It was Ron's turn.
The Boggart transformed into a spider larger than a desk.
Ron screamed louder than the spider, nearly throwing his wand. Lupin quickly reminded him, and Ron turned the spider into a fumbling mess on roller skates, sending the whole class into fits of laughter.
Draco let out a disdainful snort.
Ron sat back down, panting, and glared at him.
"If you're so great, you go up."
Draco stood up.
"Of course I will."
He walked to the wardrobe.
The Boggart wobbled.
The door opened a crack.
A section of a stone sword emerged from within.
Draco's face froze.
The chessboard chamber.
The White Queen's stone sword.
Broken ribs, blood, Ron's shouts, Harry charging into the wall of fire. That wasn't shame; it was the memory of death pressed against his chest.
The students didn't laugh.
They had heard about the incident in the forbidden area during their first year, but none had seen Draco nearly die in the chessboard chamber.
Draco raised his wand, his fingers trembling slightly.
Cassius spoke from the back row.
"If you fear it, then sever it."
Draco gritted his teeth.
"Riddikulus!"
The stone sword turned into a limp piece of sugarcane and flopped onto the floor with a thud.
Draco retreated to his seat without looking at anyone.
Cassius didn't offer praise.
But he didn't scold him either.
For Draco, that was enough.
Lupin looked at Harry.
"Harry, if you're not feeling well, you can skip this."
The class fell silent.
Harry looked up.
"I can do it."
Ron whispered, "Mate, don't push yourself."
Harry ignored him.
He walked to the wardrobe, his heart filled with anger, shame, and a mass of greed that had been awakened by the Dementor. The Boggart banged against the door inside, as if it had caught the scent of a chaotic feast of fears.
The wardrobe door opened.
The temperature dropped.
A grayish-black cloak emerged first.
Harry's breath hitched.
A Dementor?
But in the next heartbeat, the grayish-black cloak collapsed, turning into a dark red mist. From the mist emerged a young, handsome face—the face of Tom Riddle.
No one in the class recognized it.
Lupin recognized that aura, and his fingers tightened.
Before he could speak, the dark red mist was suppressed by a flash of eerie blue fire.
The Boggart convulsed violently.
It switched rapidly between Voldemort, a Dementor, and Cassius, so fast that its form shattered into a blur. Finally, it became a ghostly blue silhouette with only a single raised hand, as if it were about to pin Harry into the floor.
Harry's face went pale.
What he feared most wasn't the Dark Lord.
It wasn't a Dementor.
It was Cassius.
This realization was more humiliating than the Boggartitself.
Draco laughed out loud.
"The The Savior is afraid of my younger brother. Makes sense."
Several Slytherins joined in with low chuckles.
Harry's hand clenched tight.
The remnant soul screamed in his mind, forbidding him from retreating, forbidding him from being afraid!
But the Boggart couldn't hold on any longer.
It let out a shriek and shrank back into the wardrobe. The door slammed shut, held firmly from the inside.
The classroom went still.
Lupin's throat felt dry.
"A Boggart usually doesn't refuse to continue..."
Hermione wrote down a line.
"Too many fear objects with conflicting levels; reading failure."
Draco sneered quietly, "Even the Boggart finds him too much trouble."
Harry turned to look at him, a red light flickering in his eyes.
Cassius's voice came from the back row.
"Sit down."
Two words.
Harry's shoulders tensed.
He eventually sat back in his place, his face devoid of color.
Lupin forced the class back on track.
"Next, Cassius."
As the name was spoken, an even more violent scraping sound came from inside the wardrobe.
It wasn't the Boggart hitting the door.
It was trying to hide in the deepest corner of the wardrobe.
The whole class turned their heads.
Cassius didn't move from his seat.
Lupin braced himself and said, "Mr. Malfoy, please come forward."
Cassius stood up.
He walked to the front of the wardrobe.
The door did not open.
The thing inside had wedged itself in like a wooden plug, refusing to come out for dear life.
Cassius raised a hand and knocked on the door panel.
"Come out."
The wardrobe shook once.
It didn't move.
The students watched in a daze.
Neville whispered, "Can a Boggart... also be afraid of a student?"
No one answered.
Lupin's face twitched.
In his years of teaching, he had seen students reduced to tears by Boggarts and Boggarts fail to transform, but he had never seen a Boggart go on strike.
Cassius lost his patience.
"A waste of time."
He made a grasping motion in the air.
The wardrobe door dented inward, and a soft 'poof' sounded from within. Gray mist squeezed out from the cracks, was kneaded into a ball by ghostly blue magic, and stuffed into a small vial.
Hermione's quill began racing madly again.
"Boggarts possess a fear-reading instinct, but when facing a target that exceeds their own tolerance limit, they will engage in avoidant behavior. After forced compression, they can be sealed; possibly for future comparison with Dementor cores..."
Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Miss Granger, please don't turn every class into a materials collection site."
Cassius tucked the vial away.
"Professor, your teaching materials aren't very cooperative."
Some in the class couldn't help but laugh.
Lupin announced that the practical lesson was over.
As the students dispersed, the sound of their discussions couldn't be suppressed.
"The Boggart is afraid of Malfoy."
"It didn't even dare come out."
"So what is he actually afraid of?"
"He's probably afraid of having insufficient firepower."
This line drew a wave of low laughter, and even Hermionestopped her quill to glance at the student who spoke.
Harry sat in his place, unmoving.
He stared at the vial Cassius had put away. In his mind, the remnant soul was no longer roaring, but had switched to low calculations.
Dementors.
Boggarts.
remnant souls.
Anything related to fear and the soul was being put into bottles by Cassius and turned into tools.
Harry's hand went to his forehead.
It was burning hot.
He suddenly understood that if he didn't act soon, that core of despair would eventually become something specifically designed to kill him.
Chapter 184: Prototype Jackdaw
"I want to see the core."
In the evening, outside the entrance to the Room of Requirement, Hermione blocked Cassius's path, clutching a stack of blueprints.
Draco followed behind Cassius, his face still pale from having just finished mental defense training. Hearing Hermione's words, he almost laughed out loud.
"Granger, who do you think you're ordering around?"
Hermione didn't even look at him.
"The data from the train isn't enough. The Boggart reaction provided a second set of evidence. Dementor cores can pull negative emotions, and Boggarts can read fear; both are related to the margins of the mind and soul. If we use the core of despair as an ignition source, the Blizzard can be modified into a weapon targeting remnant souls."
Cassius stopped in his tracks.
These words were more useful than any flattery.
The door to the Room of Requirement opened.
Inside was no longer an ordinary classroom, but an alchemy workshop. Long tables, brass racks, goblin steelblanks, dragon blood powder, unicorn horn powder, and sealing cabinets were all present. Hanging on the wall was the Blizzard structural diagram drawn by Hermione, alongside the heat dissipation circuits modified by Cassius.
Draco looked at the blueprints on the wall and frowned.
"You guys have turned this place into an armory."
Hermione corrected him, "It's the school branch of the Truth Workshop."
"Even worse."
Cassius walked to the sealing cabinet and took out the crystal bottle containing the core of despair.
As soon as the bottle was brought out, the lights in the workshop dimmed. The sound of crying crawled up from the bottom of the bottle, scraping against their eardrums.
Draco took half a step back.
Hermione stood her ground, her eyes fixed on the core, her breathing becoming shallow.
Cassius placed the bottle on the table.
"You can get close. But if you touch it for more than three seconds, you'll be dragged into your most painful memories."
Hermione put on three layers of protective gloves.
Draco couldn't help but ask, "You're really going to touch it?"
"You can't study materials just by looking at them."
She reached out, her fingertips touching the wall of the bottle.
The first second.
She saw a Troll swinging a wooden club, the bathroom tiles shattering.
The second second.
In the Forbidden Forest, Harry's Dark Arts blood-blade sliced through an Acromantula, the fire from the explosion swallowing the trees.
The third second.
In Knockturn Alley, a Dark Wizard's head was crushed in Cassius's palm, blood spraying onto her face.
Hermione's knees buckled.
Cassius tapped his fingers against the center of her brow.
A wisp of stable magic poured deep into her mind, dragging her out of the quagmire of memory. Hermionegasped and leaned against the edge of the table, black frost forming on the outer layer of her gloves.
Draco frowned.
"You almost collapsed."
Hermione took off her gloves, her fingers still shaking.
"But I saw it clearly. It doesn't just release despair; it chooses the sharpest entry point into one's memories to pry open their defenses."
Cassius nodded.
"That's why it can't be made into a one-time bomb."
Hermione looked up.
"You think so too?"
"Dementor samples are too scarce. The core should serve as a repeatable excitation source, with the outer shell responsible for guidance and protection."
Hermione spread out the blueprints.
"I've made three versions. The first is a modified Blizzard, embedding core fragments directly into the shell, but the downside is the pollution is too strong; the second uses unicorn horn powder to neutralize it, making it stable but reducing its power; the third..."
She unfurled the largest piece of parchment.
Draco felt his scalp tingle as he saw the complex spiral circuits and multi-layered casing on it.
Hermione continued, "The third version uses a goblin steelshell to withstand pressure, Dementor fragments as a guidance layer, unicorn horn powder to isolate pollution, and dragon blood powder as a life-heat trigger. After launching, it doesn't focus on exploding but releases a short soul tremor."
Cassius looked at it for a moment.
"Too mild."
Hermione gritted her teeth.
"If it's strengthened any further, it will accidentally injure normal souls."
"So we add an identification bait." Cassius pointed to the center of the diagram. "remnant souls are different from complete souls. A complete soul has its own rhythm, while a remnant soul is a fragment that relies on parasitism to fill its gaps. If we make the core emit a 'gap' signal, the remnant soul will take the bait on its own."
Hermione's eyes lit up.
She picked up a quill and began making rapid modifications.
"It's like tossing a mouse with a barbed hook to a hungry snake."
Hearing this made Draco feel nauseous.
"Can you two stop comparing Potter to a snake?"
Cassius looked at him.
Draco corrected himself, "Never mind."
The two of them began the micro-carving.
Hermione was responsible for the rune calculations, while Cassius carved magic circuits—ten times thinner than a hair—into the inner wall of the goblin steel. Draco stood by, moving from impatience to silence, and then forcing himself to understand some of the structure.
The only sounds in the workshop were the light clinking of metal and the scratching of the quill.
Halfway through, a discrepancy appeared in Hermione's calculations.
Cassius pulled her parchment away and crossed out three lines.
"This is wrong. The core isn't gunpowder; you can't calculate it based on total release. It has a suction effect."
Hermione stared at the crossed-out section, reluctance written on her face.
"Give me ten minutes."
"Six minutes."
"Eight minutes."
"Five minutes."
Hermione gritted her teeth and began re-calculating.
Draco's eye twitched as he watched from the side.
These two even treated arguing over time like a duel.
The first prototype was completed before midnight.
The goblin steel shell was shaped like a slender crow feather, with no extra decorations on the surface, only dense sealing runes. After the core was placed into the central slot, the entire projectile emitted a faint cry, like a Jackdaw calling over a graveyard.
Hermione whispered, "Codename: Jackdaw."
Cassius placed it onto a testing rack.
"We'll go to the Forbidden Forest tomorrow night for a test detonation."
Draco looked at the weapon.
"What if it's effective against the thing inside Potter?"
Cassius took out another empty shell.
"Then we'll make more."
Hermione looked up.
"We can't just kill Harry."
Cassius looked at her.
"Are you pleading for him?"
"I'm preventing you from breaking the test subject," Hermione said quickly. "Harry himself still has a complete soul. If it's forcibly pulled out, the remnant soul will drag him down and shatter him too. We need to pull it out in stages—stabilize it, then strip it away."
Draco frowned, "You still care about him?"
Hermione stopped writing.
"I don't like what he's become, but that doesn't mean I want to see him turned into an empty shell."
Cassius didn't argue.
"Then you design the Stability Ring."
Hermione was taken aback for a moment.
"You agree?"
"If the remnant soul can be stripped out whole, it's more valuable than fragments."
Draco closed his eyes.
He should have been used to this by now.
With Cassius, moral arguments were usually converted into material integrity.
Outside the workshop door, in the shadows of the corridor corner.
The invisibility cloak hid Harry's body, but it couldn't hide the heat of his scar.
He couldn't hear every word, but he caught 'Jackdaw,' 'remnant soul,' and'strip away.'
Riddle's remnant soul whispered in his mind.
We must get that thing.
It can kill me, but it can also make us grow up ahead of time.
Harry pressed his hand against the wall.
Hermione's voice drifted from inside the room.
"The spare cores must be sealed separately. No one with abnormal soul fluctuations can be allowed near them."
Cassius replied, "I'll set up alarms."
Harry turned and left.
He walked very quietly.
But the dark red mist at the scar on his forehead pulled a thin line in the shadows, like a starving insect.
Chapter 185: Stealing the Core
"You're going to find Hermione and apologize?"
Ron sat in the Gryffindor common room, his expression skeptical.
Harry nodded, his face etched with exhaustion.
"I've been in a bad state lately and said a lot of nasty things to you guys. I don't want to keep going like this."
Ron scratched his hair.
He was still angry.
The Forbidden Forest, the Dark Arts, the incident with Luna, and the way Harry had pushed him away on the train—it all weighed heavily on his chest. But seeing Harry's pale face and the bloodstains at the edge of his scar, he couldn't bring himself to be cruel.
"You really should take a break, mate. The way you looked at the Dementor that day... it scared me."
Harry lowered his eyes.
"I scared myself too."
That was a well-delivered line.
Riddle had taught him that.
Admitting fear was more effective at gaining trust than denying it.
Ron breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hermione's being weird right now. She spends all day clutching blueprints and hanging out with Malfoy. I don't know if she'll even listen to us anymore."
"I'll try."
As Harry turned away, the red light in his eyes was suppressed by the firelight.
He didn't go looking for Hermione.
He went to the library first, using the excuse of researching Defense Against the Dark Arts materials to circle around to an empty table. On the table lay the Marauders Map that Ron had mentioned earlier that day.
Ron had said that thing could show people's names.
Harry's hand hovered over the map.
Taking it wouldn't be hard.
But he paused for three seconds.
A small part of his mind that belonged to the original Harry was resisting.
Stealing from a friend.
The remnant soul chuckled.
Friends? They're doubting you behind your back, Hermionehas already sided with Malfoy, and Ron will eventually fear you too.
Harry picked up the map and tucked it inside his robes.
That night, the corridors of Hogwarts were colder than usual.
The aftershocks of the Dementor guard still pressed against the Castle's exterior, and the people in the portraits were unwilling to peak out. Harry donned his invisibility cloak, dodged Filch, passed the fourth-floor corner, and stopped before a blank wall.
On the Marauders Map, the names Cassius, Hermione, and Draco were moving along the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The Room of Requirement was empty.
Harry repeated the phrase Cassius often used in his mind.
I want to enter the Truth Workshop.
A door opened in the wall.
The lights inside were dim.
Harry walked in, his breathing becoming rapid.
The workshop was filled with goblin steel parts, rune cutters, brass stands, and sealed cabinets. Structural diagrams of the Jackdaw hung on the walls, with Hermione's handwriting pressed into the corners of the blueprints. Harry glanced at them; he couldn't understand them, but he could see that the lines all pointed toward the central core.
The storage cabinet was at the very back.
Faint blue patterns were on the cabinet door, like sleeping snakes.
Harry took out the old wand he had stolen from the Hospital Wing.
His Holly Wand was broken, and his black-scaled wandhad been crushed by Cassius. This old wand didn't feel right in his hand; casting spells with it felt like writing with someone else's hand.
"Alohomora."
The cabinet door didn't budge.
The remnant soul whispered a reminder.
Use blood.
Harry bit his fingertip and pressed the blood onto a corner of the cabinet door.
The faint blue patterns lit up.
It didn't open.
Instead, fine patterns emerged simultaneously on the walls, floor, and ceiling of the entire workshop.
The door disappeared.
The fireplace was sealed shut.
The magic dust in the air was activated, clinging to the scar on Harry's forehead. The invisibility cloak slipped off, revealing his pale face.
Harry cursed.
"A trap."
The remnant soul, however, became excited.
No, it's an entrance. The core is inside; swallow it, and the lockdown will dissipate.
Harry pressed against the cabinet door.
Dark red mist seeped from his scar, coiling down his arm toward the storage cabinet. A faint crying sound came from inside the cabinet. The backup core was drawn by the pull, automatically sliding into the contact slot.
A grayish-black chill drilled out through the cabinet door.
Harry shuddered violently.
Painful memories flooded out.
His uncle's shouting, the darkness in the cupboard, his mother's screams, Cassius crushing the black-scaled wand, Luna's calm gaze watching him in the corridor, Hermione turning to leave the Forbidden Forest explosion site.
The remnant soul devoured these pains greedily.
A twisted sense of satisfaction appeared on Harry's face.
"More..."
The patterns on the cabinet door suddenly reversed.
The grayish-black chill wasn't being swallowed.
It had bitten onto the dark red mist.
Like a bear trap snapping shut.
Harry screamed in agony as his forehead scar split open and black smoke rose from his skin. A wisp of the dark red remnant soul was forcibly pulled out, connected to the backup core and stretched into a thin line.
"No!"
This cry didn't come from Harry.
It was Riddle.
The voice emerged from Harry's throat—young, cold, and panicked.
"This isn't food!"
The workshop fireplace flared with faint blue fire.
Cassius stepped out of the fire, followed by Hermione and Draco.
Hermione froze when she saw Harry collapsed on the ground with a dark red soul thread connecting his forehead to the core. Her first reaction wasn't anger, but a rapid assessment of the pull's intensity.
"Don't pull directly! His soul is entangled!"
Draco drew his wand and pointed it at Harry.
"Potter, you're stealing from us?"
Harry was in too much pain to speak, only staring at the three of them with eyes full of resentment.
Cassius knelt down and observed the dark red thread.
"A mouse enters the granary and sticks its neck right into the trap."
Hermione stepped forward quickly, pulling out a stabilizing rune plate and sticking it to the floor.
"The backup core hasn't finished its Stability Ring yet; the pull is too violent. If this continues, Harry will be torn open."
Draco sneered.
"He didn't think about that when he was stealing our weapon."
Hermione turned to glare at him.
"I'm not making excuses for him; I'm trying to preserve the experimental subject."
Cassius looked at Harry's scar.
Within the dark red thread, a blurry young man's face emerged, looking similar to the Tom Riddle from the diary but more hideous.
The face spoke.
"Malfoy, let go. If you continue to push, I will destroy his soul."
The workshop fell silent.
Draco's hand tightened on his wand.
Hermione's face went pale.
Cassius looked up, staring at the face of the remnant soul.
"Then we'll shatter together."
The remnant soul stalled.
It hadn't expected this answer.
Threatening a hostage required the other party to care about the hostage. But Cassius wasn't Dumbledore; he didn't have that obsession with having to save everyone.
Hermione stood beside Cassius.
"It can't be shattered now. A complete remnant soul is worth more; you said so yourself."
Cassius looked at her.
Hermione didn't back down.
"Give me time. First, stabilize Harry's mind, then strip it in segments. If you tear it now, you'll only get a pile of scrap."
Cassius withdrew his hand.
"Ten seconds."
"At least a minute."
"Thirty seconds."
Hermione gritted her teeth. "Deal."
She took out three rune plates and stuck them around Harry's forehead, while her other hand sprinkled unicorn horn powder into the pull line. The dark red thread quivered, and the bite force of the grayish-black core dropped significantly.
Harry passed out.
Cassius extended a finger and tapped it on his scar.
A Ethereal Blue Brand appeared, small, like an inverted hook.
The remnant soul hissed but was pressed back into the depths.
"Positioned," Cassius said, standing up. "Don't think about hiding next time."
The fireplace flared again.
Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, and Lupin arrived together.
Snape first saw Harry on the floor, then the backup core in the storage slot, and finally the wisp of dark red soul fragment held between Cassius's fingertips.
His face lost all color.
Dumbledore stared at the fragment, all the gentleness in his blue eyes completely stripped away.
That aura—he was all too familiar with it.
Tom Riddle.
Lord Voldemort.