Night had fallen.
Inside the castle, the air was thick with a sour, lingering stench. The young wizards tossed and turned restlessly in their beds.
At the same time, the lights in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office were still on.
Dawn sat in his chair, eyes half-closed, lost in thought.
After a long while, he took the Resurrection Stone out of its wooden box.
He studied it briefly.
Then he conjured a file and began grinding it down into powder, little by little.
Ripples spread across the surface of the tea in the kettle from the vibrations.
Nearby, the narrow-spouted sprayer that had been releasing a steady stream of white mist sat on top of a cabinet.
Dawn took it down and placed it within reach.
He was preparing to do exactly what he had seen in his vision—use the mist to let the students inhale the powdered Resurrection Stone.
To be honest, even now, Dawn did not know why he was doing this. He only knew that he had to.
It was not just because he had "seen it in a prophecy."
There was another reason.
A reason he could not ignore.
The Time-Turner.
Dawn's thoughts drifted slightly, but his hands never stopped moving.
Scrape.
Scrape.
Moments later, the last fine grains slipped through his fingers.
He used a piece of stiff paper to gather them into a small pile, deliberately pausing afterward.
Nothing happened.
There was no sudden surge of ambient magic in the office.
Only the small brown teddy bear on the desk clicked its mechanisms idly, its pointer ticking irregularly.
It seemed that grinding the Resurrection Stone into powder did not immediately trigger anything unusual.
Perhaps, like the author of that book, something would only happen if it were fully consumed?
Dawn considered this.
But it did not slow his actions in the slightest.
He opened the sprayer.
Scooping up the powder, he was about to pour it in—
When a voice full of suppressed anger echoed from downstairs, making him pause.
"Mr. Weasley, what exactly do you think you are doing?!"
Professor McGonagall?
Dawn raised an eyebrow and glanced out the window, though from this angle he could see nothing.
The night was pitch black.
Only a few owls flapped past in the distance.
The voice continued.
"As your Head of House, I am ashamed of your behavior! Gryffindor loses one hundred points—each!
And I will be speaking to Professor Snape. You will serve a month of detention under him!"
What had the Weasley twins done?
It was rare to hear McGonagall this furious.
Dawn felt a flicker of curiosity, but since he could not exactly go ask, he shrugged and returned to his task.
Soon, the powdered Resurrection Stone was mixed into the liquid inside the sprayer.
He casually stirred it with a quill, then set it aside and went to bed.
The next day—
Morning came.
The chaotic night was over.
Dawn was woken by the small brown teddy bear.
He yawned, sat on the bed in a daze for quite some time, then rummaged through the potions he had taken from Slughorn and drank one to refresh his mind.
He was still exhausted.
But he had no choice—he had a first lesson with the second-year Gryffindor and Slytherin students.
After getting dressed, he caught a whiff of the lingering stench seeping through the door.
He cast a bubble charm around himself to block out the smell and stepped out.
He had no desire to eat in the Great Hall with the "marinated" students.
Instead, he went straight to the kitchen.
As usual, he had steak and milk.
After filling his stomach, he headed to the classroom early.
He placed the sprayer on the windowsill, opened it, and let the liquid—now mixed with Resurrection Stone powder—disperse into a fine mist.
Dawn inevitably inhaled the first breath.
But just like in the vision, nothing happened to him.
He did not fall asleep. He did not enter any dream.
Perhaps it was a matter of dosage. Or perhaps inhalation and ingestion were fundamentally different in terms of ritual.
Dawn was too sleepy to think deeply about it.
He sat at the podium and casually glanced out the window.
Hoot.
Hoot.
A few owls glided past, likely returning to their nests after a long night.
Dawn shrugged helplessly.
Bang!
The classroom door burst open, startling him.
"Ha! Seamus! Catch me if you can!"
Ron charged into the room, laughing, with Harry, Hermione, and another boy close behind.
They were still fooling around— Until they saw Dawn sitting at the front.
Their expressions froze instantly.
Ron's face turned bright red. "P-Professor, we—"
"It's fine. Class hasn't started yet. Take your seats."
Dawn waved a hand casually.
The students let out a sigh of relief and hurried to sit down. All except Hermione chose seats toward the back.
"Professor Hickman is here so early today. That's not normal," Ron whispered.
Harry replied quietly,
"I think it makes sense… think about why we came early."
"Of course it's because Peeves keeps targeting us! It smells so bad we couldn't even sleep!"
Ron blurted out, then suddenly realized something.
He grinned mischievously and glanced at Dawn. "I bet Peeves targeted him too—just like Snape."
Harry gave an awkward smile, not wanting to comment.
At that moment, Seamus sniffed the air. "Wait... do you smell something?"
"Smell?"
Harry and Ron both inhaled deeply.
Their expressions turned blissful.
"Is that… mint?"
They exchanged a glance and looked toward the sprayer releasing a steady mist.
Yes—Dawn had added a mint scent to the solution.
He planned to present it as a way to purify the air from the dungbomb stench.
"Hey... I think I like him now," Ron muttered, enjoying the rare fresh air.
Before long, all the students from both houses had arrived. When the bell rang, Dawn stood up and began the lesson without delay.
Today's topic was the Concealment Beast.
A hybrid creature born from an Invisible Beast and a ghoul.
It was tall, with silver-white fur, resembling a thin white bear, and it had a strong tendency to attack humans.
It possessed excellent concealment abilities and a unique form of transformation, allowing it to hide cleverly behind objects, making it extremely difficult to detect.
"To deal with a Concealment Beast, wide-area spells are most effective—such as Incendio. Carrying powdered wormwood can also help prevent attacks."
As he spoke, Dawn used Transfiguration to turn a desk into the shape of the creature, giving the students a clear visual.
The students watched with interest.
They continued breathing in the mist, but none showed signs of drowsiness yet.
The class proceeded smoothly.
At the end, Dawn closed his book.
"The assignment will follow the usual format. Write an essay about the Concealment Beast. Any angle is acceptable—but plagiarism is forbidden."
As he said this, he deliberately glanced at Hermione, making her face flush with embarrassment.
Dawn nodded in satisfaction.
Sometimes, he had to admit—doing a little mischief really did help lighten his mood.
As he left the classroom with the sprayer, he could faintly hear Hermione calling out Harry and Ron's names.
___________
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