[HP] Chapter 137-139

### [HP] 137: Norbert Gets Taught a Lesson by the Flower Sea

Meanwhile, inside Louis’s Reality Marble.

In the calm sea of flowers, a shadow suddenly appeared—an infant dragon about a meter long came tumbling down into the blossoms.

The flower field swayed, petals fluttering as they wrapped around Norbert, who had been recognized as a friendly presence.

The Reality Marble’s innate functions—cleansing debuffs, healing injuries, and soothing the mind—immediately gave Norbert a full round of treatment, like an all-inclusive massage.

Forget a Stunning Spell—even the Cruciatus Curse, or wounds from Snape’s signature move, Sectumsempra, could be healed here.

Norbert slowly opened his eyes, staring in awe at the dreamlike sea of flowers.

Waking up in a strange but beautiful place, the little dragon’s head couldn’t comprehend what had happened.

He tilted his head and let out a puzzled, “Awr?”

But the gentle embrace of the flower field, and the constant nourishing energy flowing into his body, quickly put him at ease. He felt no tension at all.

Curiously sniffing here and there, he soon bounded across the sea of blossoms like an excited husky set free.

Yet before he got far, a thick root bulging from the ground tripped him flat.

Norbert scrambled up, furious, and snapped his jaws around the root. But what seemed ordinary was harder than steel—his teeth nearly cracked from that one bite.

Never having suffered such indignity, Norbert immediately opened his mouth and spat a small flame at the root.

The spark, however, couldn’t ignite this mysterious root at all. Instead, it irritated the surrounding petals. Vines shot up from the flower sea and, without warning, smacked Norbert hard across the face.

The baby dragon spun in place, dizzy from the blow, before finally regaining his senses.

“Awroooh…” Norbert roared in frustration, but this time he had learned his lesson. Trembling with caution, he dared not provoke those deceptively delicate flowers again.

Still, he noticed that strange tree root hadn’t retaliated.

Toward the strong, he bowed and cowered; but when facing the seemingly weak, he struck mercilessly.

Norbert perfectly embodied the saying: bullies the weak, fears the strong.

He lunged at the root again, gnawing and tearing with all his might. Yet no matter how hard he bit, the thing was too tough—even his teeth ached, and he left not a single mark.

Frustrated, Norbert followed the root, wanting to find the strange tree it belonged to. With roots this massive, surely the tree itself must be huge?

But when he finally found the sprout growing at the root’s end, his little eyes filled with confusion.

Then that confusion was quickly devoured by a wave of ravenous hunger.

I want to eat it!

Every cell in his body screamed at him to devour the tiny sapling. Though Norbert could faintly sense countless invisible threads connecting the little sprout to everything around it, his young mind couldn’t grasp what it meant.

He only knew one thing—he wanted to eat it!

Wagging his tail, his bright red tongue licking around his snout, the primitive urge gnawed at his body and burned in his brain.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Norbert lunged with mouth wide open, fangs glinting. His tail and small wings flapped in the air, his whole body straining with hunger, rushing toward the tender sapling.

But just as his jaws were about to close around it, something strange happened—

The peaceful sea of flowers suddenly went berserk. Around the roots of the World Tree, all the blossoms withered away, and instead countless emerald-green vines sprouted from the surrounding flower field, wrapping Norbert tightly into a ball.

Then, out of nowhere, a transparent figure appeared. With one swift motion, it smacked the bound Norbert hard across the face.

“This one you absolutely cannot eat!”

The transparent figure issued the warning.

“Awrooooh!” Norbert roared angrily and snapped his jaws toward the figure’s hand.

But the figure was lightning fast—his hand withdrew in a blur, and in passing he landed yet another slap across Norbert’s face.

“Still stubborn, huh?” the transparent figure chuckled mischievously. “Then let me take your master’s place and teach you some discipline—otherwise you’ll turn this place into a complete mess.”

As he spoke, the figure alternated left and right, giving Norbert’s cheeks an even series of resounding smacks.

“Though this isn’t really my domain… still…”

After finishing the lesson, the faceless phantom returned to Louis’s side.

The Stand’s range being rank A was truly outrageous—able to control things effortlessly from half a continent away. That gave Louis even more confidence in his ability to manipulate events later on.

“Alright, that’s enough excitement for tonight. About time to sleep.” Louis yawned, folded up the Marauder’s Map, tossed it into his storage space, then slipped off his ring and dropped it into the Reality Marble.

The Marauder’s Map required a wizard’s incantation to activate and close. Luckily, when Louis obtained it, Peter Pettigrew had already activated it—otherwise Louis would have had to go through a lot of trouble.

As for the ring—his [Portable Private Space Teleport Point]—Louis always had the habit of removing it before sleep. It was soulbound, and only he could activate it.

Now that his Reality Marble could store items, tossing the ring in there made it even safer.

If not for the hassle of sorting things, Louis would have dumped everything from the ring straight into the Reality Marble.

But before going to bed, he hesitated. Taking the ring back out, he retrieved the Marauder’s Map again and opened it.

Professor McGonagall and Filch were still inside the castle, but Dumbledore was not.

At this hour, he must have gone into the Forbidden Forest to keep watch, right?

Suddenly, Louis remembered—the Invisibility Cloak he’d picked up was still lying in his storage space, taken when he swapped positions with his Stand earlier.

“Should I take it out and check it?” Louis muttered, reaching for it.

But just as he was about to retrieve the cloak, he froze. A flood of lights and shadows flashed across his vision.

Every outcome pointed to the same scene—Dumbledore standing before him, questioning his intentions.

Questioning my purpose?

Louis frowned. This must have been his Clairvoyance activating on its own—the Eye of Fate had sensed a major shift in his destiny and triggered automatically.

The Invisibility Cloak has a problem? The moment I take it out, I’ll be suspected?

Louis ran through the films and novels in his mind, and then a bold guess struck him.

Dumbledore had left a backdoor—or rather, a detectable mark—on the Invisibility Cloak!

That was why he always seemed to notice Harry when the boy used it, guiding him with seemingly casual words toward hidden truths.

It made sense. There could only be one savior in this world. No matter how much Dumbledore allowed Harry to run free, he would never ignore him. With a marked cloak, Dumbledore could always keep track whenever Harry stirred up trouble!

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### [HP] 138: Dumbledore’s Doubts

Louis had no doubt about Dumbledore’s control over Hogwarts.

If Louis were to take out the Invisibility Cloak now, it would be no different from declaring to Dumbledore: I was here tonight, and the theft of the dragon has something to do with me!

Nothing escaped Dumbledore’s eyes—not Charlie Weasley and his companions arriving from outside the castle, nor even Hagrid’s secret attempt at dragon-raising.

If there was anyone who could deceive Dumbledore’s gaze, Louis was confident that he was that person—but only so long as he made no mistakes.

If he slipped and exposed himself before Dumbledore, then it would be nothing but self-destruction.

As for why Dumbledore couldn’t sense the Cloak right now—that was because what Louis carried wasn’t a spatial ring but a fixed-point teleportation device, linking to an unknown and mysterious space.

It was either too far away, or not even in the same dimension, for Dumbledore to perceive.

“What a pity. Looks like I can’t examine this so-called Deathly Hallow.” Louis’s expression shifted as he pulled out a tool he hadn’t used in a long time.

[Magic Hand].

Ever since his mental strength had reached its peak, this low-tier item had become almost useless. Under Louis’s mental control it could exert a shocking thirty tons of force—but that was its limit. With the same psychic power channeled through the Rooster Talisman, Louis could easily unleash hundreds of tons.

Still, right now the Magic Hand had its uses.

Louis couldn’t be sure whether the legendary wizard might perceive his Stand. Since a Stand was a spirit-body, someone with overwhelming mental power could at least sense its presence, if not see it.

By contrast, the Magic Hand was truly unseen. Only its wielder—and its victim—could ever perceive it.

Louis guided the Magic Hand, carrying the [Portable Private Space Teleport Point], toward another part of the castle.

His spiritual energy could already blanket most of Hogwarts, so the Hand’s range had grown absurd.

Eventually he chose the front gates of the castle. Using the Magic Hand, he activated the ring, drew out the Invisibility Cloak, and draped it over a statue by the entrance. Then the Hand swiftly returned with the ring.

The entire time, Louis kept his eyes fixed on the Marauder’s Map. Almost the instant the Magic Hand moved, Dumbledore’s name suddenly appeared on the parchment—as though he had Apparated straight there.

“Apparition, huh? And here I thought it was forbidden inside school grounds… So, Headmaster’s privilege, is it?” Louis muttered, watching Dumbledore’s name dart swiftly across the map’s area before shaking his head.

Once the Magic Hand returned, Louis put away the map and tossed the ring back into his Reality Marble.

Enough. Time to sleep!

Inside the Reality Marble, Norbert was once again bonked on the head by a falling ring. If not for Louis’s lingering aura on it, the dragon would have howled in protest.

But he didn’t dare—since that transparent figure still hadn’t finished with him, and was currently nagging endlessly about the “self-cultivation of a gardener.”

Bloody hell… who tries to train a dragon to be a gardener?

Norbert didn’t realize it, but his intelligence was quietly growing under the phantom’s constant rambling.

—

At the front gates of Hogwarts, Dumbledore stood holding the Invisibility Cloak, his eyes filled with doubt.

He hadn’t found whoever had taken it. That person seemed never to have existed—or else had simply vanished into thin air.

“My speed was already so fast. In three seconds, where could they possibly have gone?” Dumbledore could not believe anyone else in the school could bypass the wards and Apparate as he could.

But the truth was undeniable—the other party had simply disappeared. And that ability… troubled him.

“Were they also watching Harry? Or is there another reason?” Dumbledore’s gaze lingered on the Cloak in his hands. “They must have noticed the mark on it. That’s why they threw it away. But if they had the power to block my detection, why not just take it somewhere beyond my reach and hide it there?”

Magical sensing always had limits—beyond five kilometers, even Dumbledore would lose the signal on the Cloak’s mark.

Perhaps the thief simply didn’t understand the Cloak’s true significance.

It was a simple enough explanation. Yet Dumbledore refused to underestimate an enemy.

“Or perhaps they are bound to Hogwarts—unable to leave. That’s why they were forced to discard the Cloak.” Wisdom gleamed in Dumbledore’s eyes. “So who here has such an ability, yet cannot depart from the castle?”

Naturally, his mind turned to the one who had helped the three-headed dog breach the castle walls. He had never uncovered that person’s identity, but his instincts told him they were still hidden somewhere within Hogwarts.

Thus, Dumbledore’s suspicions fell upon Chuan. Based on all available clues, the mysterious figure aiding Voldemort (Chuan) was the likeliest suspect.

“A person who helps Voldemort, yet does not truly stand at his side… What exactly is their purpose?” Dumbledore mused, staring at the Cloak in his hands.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden clatter of hooves.

Turning, Dumbledore saw a centaur galloping from the Forbidden Forest.

It was a strikingly handsome centaur with golden hair, and on his back sat a small boy.

The sight was shocking—for everyone knew centaurs were fiercely proud, never allowing anyone to ride on them. Unless, of course, it was someone they deeply respected.

For example—Harry Potter.

Once again Harry found himself benefiting from his famous name. Even the centaurs knew of him! But before he could bask in the feeling, he saw who was waiting at the gates—Dumbledore.

At once, Harry’s face turned troubled.

The centaur halted before the Headmaster. Realizing there was no escape, Harry slid down and stepped forward. “Headmaster, sir.”

“Good evening, Harry. And good evening to you, Firenze.” Dumbledore inclined his head toward the centaur. “Thank you for bringing Harry back safely. You’ve protected him well.”

“It was only what I should do,” replied the centaur called Firenze. “I saw the mysterious one—that creature was drinking unicorn blood to sustain itself. It was far too dangerous for Harry Potter to remain there.”

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### [HP] 139: The Plan Begins

“This was just an accident.” Dumbledore smiled gently at Harry, soothing his tense nerves.

Firenze nodded. “You must all be careful. Darkness has already returned, and an even greater shadow is waiting, lurking in secret.”

“A prophecy, Firenze?” Dumbledore sounded surprised.

“Something like that. What I saw was blurred—there was heavy interference.” Firenze’s expression grew grave. “But it is worth paying attention to.”

Centaurs were masters of the stars; from the movements in the night sky, they could glimpse the future.

Originally, Firenze had only intended to escort Harry to the edge of the Forest. But because of the prophecy, he had stepped out of the Forbidden Forest himself—a shocking act for a centaur, as unthinkable as letting someone ride on his back.

“An even greater darkness, is it?” Dumbledore murmured, lost in thought. “Thank you for the warning.”

Firenze departed, and Harry watched the kindly centaur go. Then he raised his eyes to Dumbledore. “Headmaster… was that Voldemort in the forest?”

“You’ve already guessed it, haven’t you?” Dumbledore patted Harry’s head with a gentle smile.

“But what about the deeper darkness?” Harry asked curiously.

“That…” Dumbledore already had his suspicions. Perhaps it was the same person who had stolen the Invisibility Cloak tonight, and who had helped the three-headed dog break through the castle wall.

They might very well be one and the same.

But these were not things he could tell Harry. The boy already carried enough weight—Voldemort alone was danger enough to shadow his every step.

He couldn’t burden the child with every possible threat, could he?

So Dumbledore simply smiled and said, “Harry, no matter how deep the darkness stretches, it will always vanish before dawn. Evil may press upon justice, but it can never destroy it.”

“Even the deepest shadow will scatter in the end.”

Harry didn’t quite understand.

Dumbledore didn’t explain further. He only handed the Invisibility Cloak back to Harry.

“Be careful, and don’t lose it again,” he said. “Not every time will there be someone to find it for you—and I may not always have the chance.”

What had truly happened in the Forbidden Forest that night was known by very few. Even most of those involved didn’t grasp it.

Take Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, and even the ever-bumbling Hagrid—they only knew Harry had been rescued by a centaur.

The only student who truly understood was Harry Potter—and, ironically, Louis, who hadn’t even been present.

But however grand or mysterious those events sounded, when compared to the things that mattered most in their own lives, they suddenly seemed far less important.

For example—final exams.

To many students, finals were a nightmare. A term spent in relative ease made the exam period, and the time spent at home afterward, all the more agonizing.

Ron was certainly one of those cramming desperately at the last minute. Harry’s results hardly mattered; his family didn’t care about grades.

As for Louis, it was clear his family didn’t care much either. To them, Louis’s time in the magical world was more curiosity than future. His real life, they thought, belonged in the world of ordinary people.

Parents always did seem to know their children best.

But Louis had no intention of muddling through his exams. No—he was determined to take first place.

At Hogwarts, exams were divided into theory and practice: written tests and practical trials.

The written part posed no problem. With Louis’s memory, he could reproduce the exact words from the textbook flawlessly.

The Charms exam was nothing more than identifying which spell to use in a given situation, which incantations and gestures could achieve a certain effect.

The Potions exam was merged with Herbology: students had to answer questions on the uses of different herbs and the methods for preparing them into potions.

The Transfiguration written test required explanations of Gamp’s Basic Law of Elemental Transfiguration and its five principal exceptions. History of Magic was even simpler—just memorization and recitation.

Astronomy was unique, held at night under the stars, completing charts with the aid of a star map—practically an open-book exam.

All of these written tests weren’t much of a challenge. The real test came afterward—the practicals.

Charms practicals were straightforward, mainly testing whether wand movements and spellcasting technique were up to standard. Louis had no issue there—he only needed to throw in some extra “special effects” for flair.

For Potions, students had to brew a batch of Herbicide. The classroom stank unbearably from the concoction’s odor. Still, the difficulty wasn’t high. Ever since Louis had mastered qi magic, Potions class was nothing for him to fear.

But once those trivial classes ended, the hardest exam arrived.

Transfiguration.

Students had to perform alone, under the watchful eyes of three professors. The task: transform a rat into a snuffbox.

This drew groans from many. They had practiced far more often turning objects into animals, not animals into objects.

It was like preparing all day for a math exam, only to be tested on English instead.

Even Louis was taken aback. He had planned to combine the Monkey and Rat Talismans for the object-to-animal transformation—but the professors had thrown in this curveball. With no choice, Louis returned to his old tricks: using illusion magic to deceive the professors.

[You fooled three sharp-eyed adult wizards with your illusion.]

[Trivial deception.]

[You gained 6,000 Trick Points. Current total: 110,100.]

Walking out of the exam hall under the satisfied gazes of the professors, Louis sighed.

“Never thought I’d have to rely on cheating again. Life really doesn’t go the way you want.”

“What do you mean, doesn’t go the way you want?” Hermione came running up from behind and patted his shoulder. “How’d you do?”

“Too well. So well that it feels out of my control,” Louis said with a grin.

“Hmph, I don’t believe you scored higher than me.” Hermione stuck out her tongue.

“Then let’s make a bet, shall we?” Louis replied.

“Fine! What are we betting?” the naïve girl asked, unconcerned.

Louis’s gaze lingered shamelessly on Hermione’s lips, soft and pink with the sheen of jelly.

Clearly, she kept herself well-hydrated.

Hermione didn’t notice at first, until the silence dragged on and she finally caught Louis staring at her mouth with that mischievous smile.

Her face flushed scarlet in an instant. Forgetting all about the wager, she shoved him away and bolted.

From behind, Louis could still see the tips of her ears glowing red.

“Why’d she run just from a little teasing?” Louis smacked his lips in mock regret.

Outside the castle, the sun was shining bright. Stepping out, Louis immediately spotted Harry rushing with Neville and Ron toward their classroom.

“So it’s about to begin?” His eyes gleamed as he slipped into a quiet corner, opened a hidden door in the castle wall—

The final plan of the first year was about to begin!

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