“You need not worry about receiving too severe a punishment,” Dumbledore said, looking into Mason’s eyes.
Their pupils were the same bright crimson as the Medusa’s Blood in the stone basin, though purer, devoid of violence or ambition.
“Professor Dumbledore, actually, I wanted to ask if I could take those things back—” Mason looked furtively toward the liquid in the stone basin like a hamster.
Magical ink this abundant and possessing special properties—no matter how you sliced it, it could be used to create spell scrolls!
“Of course you may.
That is the fruit of your labor.
Just don’t forget to clean up the ground.” Dumbledore gazed at him kindly.
On the other side, Hagrid and the centaur were discussing what ‘Medusa’ was.
“I know little of the legends among my herd.
Sensing Medusa’s Blood relies mostly on instinct.
Hagrid, centaurs are excellent horse archers, but archery cannot escape aiming, nor can it escape the gaze of Medusa.”
Firenze stood far off.
That trace of Medusa’s presence kept triggering ancient warnings in centaur blood.
That notorious snake-witch had left behind countless centaur stone statues across the Mediterranean, and the Dark wizard Herpo the Foul—suspected to be her descendant—had created an even more terrifying serpentine beast: the Basilisk.
“That snake-witch caused slaughter everywhere until a wizard named Perseus found her lair and vanquished her.
After Medusa died, many Dark wizards went to her temple seeking data on bloodline mutations, draining the blood from her remains while they were at it.”
“I remember now!
I think I heard about that material in Knockturn Alley.
A small vial of blood cost dozens of Galleons, though later people found out it was fake…” Hagrid clapped his giant hand down, sighing regretfully.
“I’d sure love to see what Medusa actually looked like!”
Mason didn’t hide from Dumbledore.
He pulled four massive glass containers from his backpack—ones he had casually swiped from the Room of Requirement earlier.
Controlling his wand, Mason funneled the Medusa’s Blood into the containers, then packed them into his backpack along with the marble basin.
Seeing that Mason lacked an Extension Charm on his pockets, Dumbledore raised an eyebrow slightly, feeling the boy was intentionally revealing things about himself.
Inside the backpack, the magical liquid was also labeled as Medusa’s Blood.
Its quality sat right between ordinary magical ink and superior ink, with an additional line of description underneath:
Meanwhile, the Mastery of All Magic compendium brought good news: the spell Mason had been yearning for, Entangling Roots, was fully unlocked.
[Entangling Roots: A Nature School spell.
After selecting a target, a two-second cast time will summon roots to bind the creature, leaving it unable to move or fly.
Mana Cost: 60 points per cast, increasing by 10 per level; Duration: 5 seconds, increasing by 1 second per level.]
In his excitement, Mason canceled his active Transfiguration, nearly getting knocked off his feet by the shifting ground.
“It appears you have recovered your spirits.
Now we can discuss the punishment for your night-roaming.”
Dumbledore didn’t forget to steady the young wizard.
The three of them bade farewell to the centaur Firenze and returned together to Hagrid’s hut.
“I must ask you a serious question.
Lately, unfamiliar figures have been roaming the Forbidden Forest.
Have you encountered any?”
“No, Professor.
This is my first time in the Forbidden Forest,” Mason answered truthfully.
“I believe you wouldn’t lie.” Dumbledore tapped his right hand on the wooden table, seemingly lost in thought.
“The Forbidden Forest is far more dangerous than you imagine—especially tonight.
What if the ones who found you first weren’t Firenze or me, but some small wild beasts?”
“I was wrong, Professor.” Mason truly hadn’t expected the enchantment ritual to briefly strip away his soul, leaving his body exposed in such a dangerous environment.
“However, I can understand your pursuit of knowledge, so—”
Dumbledore patted Hagrid’s arm, making the distracted giant leap up.
“Twenty points from Gryffindor, plus cleaning the trophy room.
I hear it will be quite lively there for the next month.
I leave it to you, Mr.
Jones.”
“Yes…” Mason answered weakly.
Cleaning a room filled with Lockhart’s giant framed photos?
That truly sounded like torture.
“If you wish to avoid running into another awkward moment like today’s, remember to consult Professor McGonagall or Hagrid in advance.” Dumbledore winked at Mason.
“I believe they will understand and assist you.” Visit g.com for the full chapter.
That would be for the best.
Performing rituals near Hagrid’s hut meant virtually no animal disturbances, and with Professor McGonagall around, she might even pull his soul back if a ritual failed—though he wasn’t sure if the kitty professor could pull all-nighters.
Hagrid slapped his chest and told Mason to bother him all he wanted; tomorrow he would clear out a small patch of woods twenty meters from his hut.
On the way back to the castle, Mason shared the story of the twelve runes he had inscribed on the ground with Dumbledore.
Hearing it made the old man sigh with emotion.
“When I was young, I also went exploring in Egypt for a time.
The wizards there weren’t particularly welcoming to us… Many histories lie buried beneath those yellow sands.
Oh!
And Sphinxes—a most difficult class of magical creature to deal with.”
Dumbledore did not press Mason on where he had obtained this knowledge, just as he didn’t ask what kind of magic Mason’s extra-dimensional pocket was.
Everyone had secrets; whether to share them was up to the individual.
If Mason wanted to tell him, he would naturally find out.
“When I wrote those runes, I also saw that destroyed city.
I’d venture to say even ordinary nuclear bombs couldn’t cause such terrifying destruction.” It was as if the sun itself had descended directly above the city.
“Nuclear bombs, is it…” Dumbledore froze for a moment upon hearing the term.
His old friend had always regarded the thing represented by that word as a portent of the Muggles’ rise and a great enemy of the wizarding world.
One wonders if he would hold a different view of modern Muggle society today.
Meanwhile, Elaine, who hadn’t returned to the dorms and was instead leaning by a window in the main tower using a telescope to search for Mason, suddenly trembled.
He spotted Mason walking along the path, laughing and talking with Dumbledore.
What was even more terrifying was that Dumbledore glanced right up in his direction.
“I really should go back to sleep.” Elaine rubbed his eyes.
He had considered that Mason snuck out of the castle to conduct some Dark Magic experiment or out of curiosity toward the Forbidden Forest—after all, the Weasley twins ran into the forest every day too.
Or perhaps it was simply a secret date; even if Mason seemed completely oblivious to romance, older girls who adored him were practically everywhere.
How could he have guessed that Mason snuck out in the middle of the night to meet the Headmaster?
Even for extra tutoring, there was no need to pick such an ungodly hour!
“I’m actually pulling all-nighters to the point of hallucinating…”