Once everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, Albus Dumbledore stood up again.
He clapped his hands to draw everyone’s attention and began going over the Hogwarts rules and regulations with the students.
Daimon listened selectively, filtering for key information and catching only two main points.
First, the forest on the school grounds was strictly out-of-bounds to all students.
Second, entering the right-hand corridor on the fourth floor was highly dangerous and potentially fatal.
An ordinary, rule-abiding young wizard might have hung on Dumbledore’s every word, but Daimon would not.
If one followed every single rule, what fun was there to be had in life?
He figured some of the mischievous little lions in Gryffindor wouldn’t listen either—at least, the Weasley twins definitely wouldn’t.
In fact, Daimon could already hear the two of them whispering, scheming about how to sneak out at night and wander into the Forbidden Forest.
“Hey, Daimon, we know you definitely overheard our plan.
I bet you won’t tattle on us, right?” George said, slinging an arm around Daimon’s shoulders.
“If you want, we can bring you along.
I’m sure with three of us, we can easily sneak past Hagrid’s watch,” Fred added enthusiastically.
Over the past three years, the twins had tried to sneak into the Forbidden Forest countless times, only to be chased out by Hagrid every single time.
This only made them more curious about that mysterious, uncharted territory.
“Thanks,” Daimon replied.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you guys, but I have my own plans.” George and Fred exchanged a glance and grinned.
“George—” “Fred, it looks like we’ve been underestimated.” “Looks like our first-year is quite confident!
In that case, how about a wager?
Let’s see who can enter the Forbidden Forest first this term and bring back something unique to it.
What do you say?” Daimon thought for a moment.
Having some fun in his spare time sounded good.
“It’s a deal.
But wouldn’t it be a bit boring without a wager?
How about ten Gold Galleons?” The twins stared at each other, seemingly stunned by Daimon’s casual display of wealth.
After all, the financial struggles of the Weasley family were common knowledge.
“We don’t have that kind of money,” George said.
In fact, their entire family probably didn’t have that many Gold Galleons in their vault at Gringotts.
“But we can substitute it with something else.
It definitely won’t disappoint you,” Fred said, his eyebrows wagging excitedly.
“We don’t have it on us right now, but once we get back to the Gryffindor common room, we can give you a sneak peek,” George added immediately.
“Deal!” Daimon agreed readily without pressing further.
His wager with the twins was made on a whim anyway; he didn’t really expect to win anything incredible from them.
Soon, the feast ended.
The professors instructed the students of each house to return to their respective dormitories.
After all, it was getting late, and students were not permitted to wander around Hogwarts at night.
The Gryffindor prefect, Percy Weasley, led the first-years up to Gryffindor Tower.
At the very end of a corridor on the eighth floor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress—the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.
“Password?” The Fat Lady in the portrait asked Percy.
“Caput Draconis,” Percy replied.
The portrait swung open, revealing a round hole in the wall.
The students had to clamber through it; the somewhat chubby Neville even needed a helping hand from behind.
“Has the school never thought of installing a normal door you can actually walk through?” Having spent so much time with Daimon, Hermione surprisingly was the first to speak up and question the design.
“Maybe once you become the Head of Gryffindor, you can replace it with a proper door,” Daimon teased with a chuckle.
“No, no, no!
I could never be as outstanding as Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said, quickly waving her hands in denial.
Before starting school, Hermione had read *Hogwarts: A History*, which mentioned the current Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor, and Transfiguration professor—Minerva McGonagall.
She was a true master of Transfiguration and one of only seven officially registered Animagi with the Ministry of Magic in the twentieth century.
“Hermione, magic is the power of miracles.
Who knows?” Daimon smiled slightly and stretched.
“It’s late.
Time for some rest.” Waving goodbye to Hermione, he headed toward the boys’ dormitory.
Hermione remained standing where she was, Daimon’s words echoing in her mind: *Who knows?* Exactly!
Even magic, which shouldn’t exist, had appeared right before her eyes, and she was now studying at the best magical school in Britain.
What else in this world was impossible?
Just do it!
With her mind put at ease, Hermione’s steps grew much lighter as she skipped happily toward the girls’ dormitory.
The Gryffindor boys’ dormitory was a five-bed room, and Daimon’s roommates were Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus.
Exhausted after a long day of excitement, the other boys had already fallen fast asleep the moment they hit their beds.
As for Ron’s rat, Scabbers, he was curled up right next to Ron’s pillow, snoring away.
“*Somnus!*” To prevent his roommates from waking up, Daimon raised his hand and cast a few sleeping charms on them.
Soon, their snoring grew even louder.
“Now, it’s time to reclaim my divine power.” Daimon walked over to Ron’s bed and reached out to grab Scabbers.
Suddenly, the supposedly fast-asleep rat darted away without warning.
It scrambled with incredible speed, bolting straight toward the common room outside the dormitory.
“As expected, you’re no ordinary rat.” Having anticipated this, Daimon wasn’t surprised at all.
Instantly activating the power of the Rabbit Talisman, he blurred forward and stepped firmly down on Scabbers, pinning him to the floor.
“Squeak!
Squeak!” Scabbers shrieked in pain.
Unfortunately, in the vast dormitory, no one but Daimon could hear its cries.
“I only wanted to take back my power, but now I’m curious to study what exactly you are.” Daimon scooped Scabbers into his palm.
His eyes glowed crimson as he first drew the power of the Rat Talisman out of the rat’s body.
“The divine power of giving life to the motionless…
Unfortunately, I can’t use it right now,” Daimon murmured.
Strictly speaking, the power of the Rat Talisman was the condensed life force of Shendu’s physical body.
In the past, Lo Pei, the wizard who sealed Shendu, had extracted the demon’s twelve divine powers and turned them into twelve talismans.
The life force of Shendu’s body became the Rat Talisman, and without it, Shendu was reduced to a lifeless stone statue.
Now, Daimon’s physical body was human.
After some meddling by that damn system, his soul had perfectly fused with this human body.
If he wanted to recreate his powerful demon physique, he would have to find another way.
Fortunately, he already had a preliminary plan.
Clutching Scabbers, Daimon gave him an inquisitive look.
“Let’s see if you’re a real rat or something else entirely!” Scabbers struggled violently, but the strength of a rat was too pathetic.
No matter how much he squirmed, it was utterly futile.
Daimon reached out with his left hand and lightly flicked Scabbers’s forehead, instantly activating the power of the Sheep Talisman.
An invisible figure flew out from Scabbers’s body, floating in midair.
It was the form of a man—short of stature, with a rat-like face, a pointed nose, a balding head, and a missing index finger on his right hand.
Thanks to the Sheep Talisman, Daimon could see everything perfectly.
“It really is a human!” Daimon’s expression turned smug, as if his suspicions were confirmed.
“A magic that lets a human turn into an animal…
I read about this not long ago.
An Animagus, if I recall correctly?” “Fascinating.
Why would a human choose to live as a rat instead?
Tell me, should I kill you, or should I spare your life?” Daimon asked playfully.
The man floated in the air, pleading desperately, reducing himself to the lowest dirt.
“Lord Daimon, please spare me!
I beg of you, I can do anything for you!” “Before pledging your loyalty, at least introduce yourself,” Daimon said.
“My name is Peter Pettigrew.
I was once a Gryffindor student too.
I…
I was friends with the father of the famous Harry Potter,” Peter blurted out eagerly.
“If that’s the case, how did you end up reduced to a rat, and a pet rat at that?” Daimon’s gaze turned sharp.
“What are you hiding from?
Or rather, what are you afraid of?” Peter Pettigrew stammered, too terrified to meet Daimon’s eyes.
“Perhaps I am being too merciful, making you forget your current situation.” Daimon squeezed his right hand slightly, slowly tightening his grip on the physical rat in his palm.
“No!” Peter Pettigrew wept miserably.
“I’ll talk!
I’ll tell you everything!”