The hospital wing.
A group of people sat around the bed, including Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Flitwick, and Lucien.
Madam Pomfrey would never normally allow so many people in. The patient needed rest, proper rest.
However, the impact of this incident was significant. Penelope had just woken from her Petrified state. As the first person to face the monster's attack, her experience might provide valuable clues. The sooner they learned more, the sooner the crisis could be resolved.
Each person present had their own reason. Dumbledore, as Headmaster, needed firsthand information. Snape, as the one who brewed the antidote, needed feedback. Flitwick, as Penelope's Head of House, was there to care for his student. As for Lucien… he had been called over because he provided the crucial Mandrake ingredients, though that reason was somewhat tenuous.
"Lucien, thank you. Thank you for your help. If it weren't for your Mandrake…"
Penelope, looking as though she had just recovered from a serious illness, still appeared pale, her voice weak.
"Please don't be so formal, Miss Clearwater. We're all schoolmates."
"Do you still feel any discomfort?"
Penelope shook her head.
"No, except that I feel a little… hungry."
Hearing this, Lucien relaxed. If she felt hungry, it meant there was no serious problem.
Dumbledore spoke gently,
"This time, we must thank Lucien for providing the materials. Professor Snape also improved the potion, making its effects more—"
"That was not my modification. It was Lucien's," Snape interrupted, cutting Dumbledore off.
Snape still looked at Lucien with a trace of confusion and scrutiny. When brewing the antidote earlier, he had Lucien prepare it himself, intending to assess his current level.
As a result, Lucien not only brewed it perfectly but also proposed several improvements. After discussing them with Snape, they put them into practice, reducing some of the antidote's side effects. Otherwise, Penelope would have needed to remain in bed for another day or two.
What puzzled Snape was not the improvements themselves, but the level of talent Lucien had displayed during the process.
After teaching him for the past year, Snape was quite familiar with Lucien's ability in potions. He had considered it to be at the peak of talent, but just short of true genius.
Professor Snape had originally thought that Lucien, being diligent and humble, would achieve something in Potions if he persevered. But the preparation of that antidote made Snape feel that Lucien's talent had somehow improved.
But wasn't that too unbelievable?
It left Snape momentarily unable to accept it, even questioning his previous judgment. Yet he could not think of any reason why Lucien would deliberately hide his abilities.
This was Hogwarts. Aside from the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, which professor would harm a student?
Hearing Snape's words, Dumbledore immediately changed his tone.
"Haha, then Lucien's contribution is indeed significant. I believe the Special Contribution Award…"
At this, Lucien's expression shifted slightly. Hadn't Tom received that award fifty years ago? It sounded somewhat ominous.
"Headmaster, that kind of matter isn't urgent. Shouldn't we first resolve this crisis?"
"Miss Clearwater, do you remember what happened before you lost consciousness?"
Penelope rubbed her forehead, confusion and a hint of pain in her eyes.
"Hmm… I think I was looking into a mirror at the time. In the mirror, I seemed to see a flash of light. Yes, light. Yellow light?"
Hearing Penelope's words, the Headmaster and the professors fell into thought, searching their memories for anything similar. What kind of magic could it be?
...
Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's office.
Lockhart dipped a peacock feather quill into ink. A rich fragrance mixed with a faint fishy scent rose from the ink bottle and the nib.
The ink was not the usual black, but a deep, dark red.
He quickly wrote a line.
"Friend, is this 'ink' mixed with dragon blood and purple horned beast blood effective?"
As soon as Lockhart finished writing, the words vanished, as if they had been consumed by someone parched.
Within a few seconds, new words appeared.
"Thank you for your help, my friend. Now I can remain in this world a little longer."
Seeing this, Lockhart let out a sigh of relief. Good, as long as it worked.
Tom's memory would not dissipate for now, and he could continue to provide guidance.
As for the cost of acquiring these rare materials, Lockhart did not care much. Though he could not compare to those old pure-blood families, as a best-selling author, his royalties had long made him wealthy.
And all of this came from fame. Fame brought fortune. As long as he remained famous, wealth would follow.
Lockhart continued writing in the old diary.
"Phew, a student was indeed Petrified. Tom, you were right. As long as the monster is controlled, it won't cause actual deaths, and now there's an antidote. Our plan can proceed…"
Inside the diary.
Heh~
On the surface of the open pages, as the words appeared, wisps of faint white light were drawn out from the dark red ink and slowly absorbed by Tom through his mouth and nose.
The boy's previously blurred features became much clearer, and his dark eyes grew deeper.
"Fortunately, an adult wizard who isn't short of money obtained the diary. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to acquire so many materials rich in vitality."
If it had fallen into the hands of a young wizard, he would have had to wait. Young wizards were still growing, and their vitality was not yet abundant.
If it had been a poor student, it would have been even worse. How could they afford expensive materials like dragon blood?
"One month. At most one more month, and the absorbed energy will be enough to reshape my body."
Tom sensed his condition and estimated the time needed.
Compared to powerful magical creatures, human vitality was ultimately limited, and Tom could only slowly draw from the diary's user. It was not out of restraint. If he absorbed too quickly, he could kill the user outright, and even the dullest person would notice something was wrong.
Now, with a high-quality and abundant source of vitality, Tom could restore himself without restraint until his revival.
Tom picked up the quill and began to write.
"Our plan may need to be accelerated. With too few victims and an antidote available, the sense of crisis is not strong enough. The fear and panic among the students are insufficient to highlight the impact of your grand appearance and 'rescue'…"
A few seconds later, Lockhart asked about the specific measures.
Tom continued writing.
"We need more victims. For now, it is only Petrification, so it does not matter. Also, we should target students who carry weight…"
Tom's long fingers tapped lightly, and a trace of coldness flashed in his dark eyes.
"For example, Harry Potter would be a good choice. The Boy Who Lived is very valuable, isn't he?"
________
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