N.E.W.T. level classes starting in sixth year could only be taken by students who'd passed last year's O.W.L. exams with acceptable scores.
Unlike usual classes, these weren't divided by house.
Meaning even Gryffindor and Slytherin, mortal enemies, needed to see each other daily.
That day, their first class was 'Defense Against the Dark Arts.'
The instructor was—surprisingly—Snape.
Slytherin students rejoiced while Gryffindors grimaced, but the teacher wouldn't change now.
Finally teaching his desired Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape spoke to students in high spirits:
"The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster. Sever one head, another grows—fiercer and cleverer than before. Your adversary is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."
It sounded like a warning not to underestimate the Dark Arts, but also like a love letter read by a lovesick man.
A tone making one suspect Snape was devoted to the Dark Arts.
Yet what he said wasn't wrong.
Harry and Edith's minds conjured two monsters—Voldemort and Mirabel.
Both were creatures not easily handled.
After learning about 'Nonverbal Spells,' his first class ended.
Only Hermione and Edith succeeded, but as most predicted, Snape didn't give Hermione points and only added 20 to Edith.
The same old Slytherin favoritism.
Doing such things constantly meant when Dumbledore favored Gryffindor at critical moments, no one could complain.
Next they took 'Potions' with Slughorn.
His face, reminiscent of a fat walrus, beamed cheerfully, enthusiastically welcoming students... especially certain ones like Harry.
"Now, now, now then. Everyone, take out your scales. And potion kits too. And Advanced Potion-Making..."
"Um, Professor? Ron and I don't have books or scales or anything. We didn't think we'd get N.E.W.T. level..."
"Ah yes, yes. Professor McGonagall did mention that. No need to worry, Harry, no worry at all."
Apparently Harry and Ron had prepared nothing, but this was understandable.
Until last year the instructor was Snape, who'd declared he only took 'Outstanding' students.
Slughorn seemed to grasp the circumstances and lent Harry and Ron textbooks and equipment without complaint.
"Now then, I've prepared some potions to show you. By the time you finish N.E.W.T.s, you should be able to brew these. Anyone know what this is?"
As usual, Hermione answered Slughorn's question.
Veritaserum forcing drinkers to speak truth, Polyjuice Potion transforming into others, and the love potion Amortentia.
Answering characteristics and effects smoothly made Slughorn notice her talent.
He praised loudly and added 20 points to Gryffindor.
But one potion remained unexplained.
It was golden-shining potion in a small black cauldron.
The surface splashed as if goldfish were jumping, yet not a drop spilled outside.
"Let's begin the practical."
"Sir, you haven't explained what this is."
"Oho!"
At Ernie Macmillan's question, seeing his satisfied voice, Edith realized.
He'd planned from the start to have students ask for dramatic effect.
And inserting such theatrics meant he had considerable confidence in that potion.
"Right, this. Well now, ladies and gentlemen, this is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it you know what it does, Miss Granger?"
Just hearing 'Felix Felicis' made Hermione gasp, and Slughorn asked her.
Hermione answered excitedly:
"It's liquid luck! It makes you lucky!"
At those words the entire class buzzed and simultaneously straightened.
Even Malfoy, who'd been sitting listlessly until now, was no exception.
The two words 'liquid luck' held irresistible allure.
"Precisely, another ten points to Gryffindor. Yes, this potion is fascinating. Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. But done right, you'll find all your endeavors tend to succeed."
"Sir, why don't people drink it all the time then?"
"Because taken in excess it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence."
Those words made Edith think of Mirabel.
All endeavors succeeding, giddy, reckless, dangerously overconfident... everything fit that girl.
This created quite an outrageous formula in Edith's mind: Felix Felicis = potion that Mirabel-fies you.
While listening to Slughorn's explanation, Edith tried imagining herself giddy but unfortunately couldn't visualize it well.
Rather, she only imagined getting too carried away and failing.
"And I offer this as today's class prize. One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis. Enough for twelve hours' worth of luck. From dawn to dusk, whatever you attempt will be successful."
As expected from past teaching experience, he was skilled at captivating students.
This Felix Felicis reward made the first day's attempt a great success.
Every student was absorbed in his story—even Malfoy stared at the small bottle without idle chatter.
"Be warned, Felix Felicis is banned from organized competitions. Whoever wins this uses it only on ordinary days. And they'll learn how wonderful ordinary days can become."
Naturally, being similar to doping, it was prohibited in competitions.
Because without prohibition, everyone might take Felix Felicis.
Meaning using it in Quidditch was obviously a foul too.
"Now, how to win this marvelous prize? Turn to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. You have just over an hour remaining, and in that time you'll attempt the Draught of Living Death. Whoever produces the best potion wins this lovely Felix. Begin!"
Bait and hook.
Simple but effective.
Students rushed to cauldrons simultaneously, frantically starting potion-making.
Felix Felicis, making a day lucky... definitely a desired item.
Edith was no exception and went all out, but somewhere in her heart was resignation: 'Hermione's here anyway.'
That prediction was correct—Edith couldn't obtain Felix and class ended.
But contrary to Edith's expectations, the potion's winner was somehow Harry Potter.
"Unquestionable victor!"
Hearing Slughorn's delighted voice, Edith felt something didn't add up.
True, Harry wasn't bad at Potions.
He frequently got zeros, but that was just Snape's grading being wrong.
Rather, attending N.E.W.T. classes despite such unfair treatment guaranteed his ability.
But that didn't mean he'd leap ahead of Hermione and moreover perfectly brew an unfamiliar potion.
To Ron's question "How'd you do it?" Harry answered "Guess I was lucky."
Lucky... that was certainly true. Skill-wise Hermione was superior, so nothing else made sense.
But what luck could let one perfectly brew an unfamiliar potion?
(I hope nothing weird's happening again.)
Trouble and strange events always started with Harry Potter.
Watching Harry walk happily, Edith felt a premonition that new trouble had already begun.
***
In a cave, regular footsteps echoed.
Walking while golden hair swayed were Mirabel Beresford and her brother Sidney Beresford.
Mirabel wandered the cave with hands in pockets, eventually stopping before a wall and kicking it hard with vampire power.
Though the rock momentarily shattered, it immediately restored, blocking the path.
"Hmm... this must be it."
Muttering expressionlessly, Mirabel gazed at the rock wall.
After about a minute, she casually beckoned Sidney and handed him a dagger.
A silent instruction to wound his own arm.
Without hesitation, Sidney slashed his arm and smeared blood on the rock wall.
Then—the rock wall vanished as if never there, revealing only a dark path before them.
"Let's go. Follow me."
Mirabel advanced into the cave with her usual confident expression.
No light source needed. Vampire eyes saw best through darkness.
Eventually she emerged at a black lake's shore.
The opposite shore invisible, ceiling height unknown.
Something glowing green existed at the lake's center, reflecting on the lake.
Corpses floated in the lake, eyes wide open.
"This is..."
"Inferi. Probably attack those who approach. Now... stand back, Sidney."
Without fear, Mirabel flew through air, leaping over the lake.
That instant, corpses burst from the lake simultaneously, surrounding Mirabel.
Probably they'd attack without question unless proper procedures were followed.
Conversely, there should be gimmicks preventing the trap-setting wizard—Voldemort himself—from being attacked.
But Mirabel didn't care about such things.
If something blocked her path, she'd kick aside reason and force it open.
If they obstructed—death, only death!
"Hmph... mere Inferi cannot block Mirabel's path."
Raising hands overhead, she generated golden lightning with sharp crackling sounds.
But that brilliance and pressure incomparably exceeded Mary's or Edith's.
Dazzlingly bright illuminating the entire cave, sharp—with vividness that could incinerate enemies by light alone, true golden ferocity bared its fangs.
"Voltage Raid Maxima! Perish utterly, trash!"
Centered on Mirabel's body, lightning scattered in all directions.
Incinerating surrounding Inferi, evaporating the lake, collectively obliterating hidden Inferi.
Shattering bedrock, scorching the cavity no longer a lake, transforming already lifeless Inferi into mere blackened charcoal.
When that ferocity finally ended seconds later, only Sidney besides Mirabel remained moving.
"Ha, trivial. Well, if Voldemort set the trap, this is about right."
Mirabel spat words taken as contempt or mockery and landed on the central island across the now-waterless lake.
Sidney followed behind, likewise landing on the island.
At the island's center was a stone basin filled with phosphorescent emerald liquid.
When Mirabel tried plunging her hand in, it didn't budge as if blocked by invisible barrier.
Testing with full-force punch, the impact penetrated water and cracked the island serving as footing.
Sidney jumped at the earthquake-like impact shaking the entire cave.
But her hand still hadn't passed through the water.
"Hmm... apparently one must drink this liquid to break through."
Childish trick, Mirabel muttered exasperatedly.
What reason existed for wizards capable of reaching here to fall for such traps?
True, Vanishing Charms wouldn't work on this water.
Discarding it would return immediately.
But that didn't mean obediently drinking was necessary.
Rather, taking the entire basin would be better than drinking.
While thinking thus, Sidney suddenly stepped forward and without hesitation lifted the basin and quickly drank it all.
Quite a loyalty-filled action but somewhat rash.
Offering words of appreciation to Sidney, who paled and collapsed there, she picked up the locket.
But immediately her face changed to disappointment.
"Tch... already replaced with a fake..."
That locket wasn't her objective.
Opening it revealed one parchment scrap inside.
『To the Dark Lord.
I know I will be dead long before you read this.
But I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. —R.A.B.』
'R.A.B.'... apparently the name of whoever obtained the real locket.
If this text was correct, the real one was probably already destroyed.
Assuming they knew how to destroy Horcruxes.
"R.A.B... first, must learn who this is. Anyway, let's capture some Death Eater and interrogate them."
Mirabel discarded the useless fake locket and left the cave.
Left behind were only the cave destroyed miserably and charred corpses rolling carelessly.
***
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