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Around 11 PM, Armostad, having hastily concluded his meeting, left Dumbledore's office. Due to prolonged forced smiles, his cheeks felt a bit stiff, and even though Dumbledore was no longer in sight, his expression still resembled a smile. No choice, had to make a living, a smiling face wasn't shameful.
Although they had chatted for over three hours, he still hadn't understood the purpose of Dumbledore's summons tonight. Recalling the entire conversation, Armostad found that Dumbledore had given him no opportunity to present any proposals, but merely led his thoughts on a wide-ranging journey, like old friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time, idly chatting after a few drinks.
His only gain was the small amount of whiskey remaining in the bottle in his hand, which Dumbledore had generously given him. This was very unreasonable; Dumbledore's displayed trust was completely inconsistent with his cautious personality.
The corridor was empty. The people in the portraits on both sides of the walls slept soundly nestled under torches. During the Christmas holiday, even the dedicated castle caretaker, Filch, had left the school to visit old acquaintances. The biting cold wind seeping into the castle through the window holes was still chilling, but the snow had stopped. Through the layers of thick clouds, the faint outline of the moon, struggling to break free, was barely visible.
Armostad stood before a window alcove at the stair landing, gazing with interest into the distance. On a starless night, the Forbidden Forest was a dark, indistinguishable mass. The faint flicker of firelight from Hagrid's hut was almost the only illumination in the unfathomably deep night.
"I'm truly glad you survived walking out of Dumbledore's office, Armostad. I was even contemplating how to arrange your funeral," Snape had changed into his plum-colored pajamas. He stood pressed against the corner wall, sneering at the bottle in Armostad's hand. "Could it be that Dumbledore's Legilimency has regressed so much that he needs Veritaserum to extract the sins you've committed these past few years?"
"Your speaking style remains as sharp as ever, Professor," Armostad turned his head and smiled at Snape in the shadows. "Headmaster Dumbledore didn't use Veritaserum on me, but it seems he's already figured out what he wanted to know from me."
...
A sliver of moonlight, having traveled over mountains and waters, streamed through the window bars, forming several parallel rectangular patches of light on the infirmary ward floor.
"Lumos." Confirming that Madam Pomfrey had returned to her small room to sleep, Hermione quietly opened her eyes, wriggled deeper into her covers, and pulled out a copy of Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions from under her pillow, which she had asked Harry to borrow from the library.
Although Madam Pomfrey had assured her that the fur on her face would recede in a few weeks, if possible, Hermione hoped to find a way to shorten that time. Otherwise, she didn't know how she would explain to those who would predictably visit why she had grown beautiful whiskers on her cheeks.
Perhaps affected by animalistic habits after a botched transfiguration, Hermione was prostrate like a real cat, her pale palms unconsciously curled into cat paws resting on the book's pages. Beneath the tightly tucked covers, a slender cat tail quietly slipped out, resting on the edge of the bed and swaying gently.
Suddenly, footsteps from outside the ward made Hermione's two ears, flattened against her head, perk up. In a very short time, after ruling out Harry, Ron, and Madam Pomfrey on night rounds, Hermione's hair stood on end, her expression terrified. Had she encountered the perpetrator of the Chamber of Secrets incident?! She hastily extinguished the light from her wand, lay back down on the bed, her hand beneath the covers tightly clutching her wand.
"Very little that happens in this school can escape Headmaster Dumbledore's notice, Professor. Are you sure he truly knows nothing?" A grim, low voice answered the previous question. This voice was very familiar to Hermione; it was Harry's most hated, and among all the school staff, the Potions Master with the greatest prejudice against Gryffindor students: Professor Snape. As for the previous voice, Hermione, with her exceptional memory, was certain she had never heard it before. However, at least from the conversation, she could tell that the visitors were not the Heir of Slytherin.
After a brief hesitation, Hermione's furry head popped out from under the covers. Thanks to the thick paw pads on her feet, she made no sound at all as she padded towards the door.
At Snape's signal, Armostad pulled back the obscuring curtain and swiftly stepped forward, carefully examining the two unfortunate boys who had been attacked, lying in the adjacent beds. "The gray-haired one is Colin Creevey, the other is Justin Finch-Fletchley, both from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff respectively, and both Muggle-born. You're very sensitive to magic, Armostad, what's your assessment?"
Armostad leaned over between the two beds, his expression focused, his light purple eyes seeming to contain two slowly swirling vortexes. He would look at Colin Creevey, who was holding up his hand in a photo-taking pose, then at the terrified Justin Finch-Fletchley, occasionally poking and tapping their hardened skin. The thudding sounds echoed clearly in the quiet infirmary.
"What did Dumbledore say?" Armostad didn't directly answer the question. Instead, he sat on the bed, solemnly staring into Colin's eyes, and asked casually. "He believes it's a very advanced dark magic, requiring powerful magic, beyond the scope of a young wizard's ability. Additionally, he privately told Minerva that he personally lacks the ability to directly lift such a potent petrification curse."
"Heh, regarding the latter point, I reserve my judgment." Armostad pursed his lips, then pointed at Colin's eyes and stated his opinion. "It's not dark magic, but a curse. Abnormal magic, using these two unfortunate young ones' eyes as a window, froze the flow of magic in their bodies, manifesting externally as petrification."
"Minerva, Filius, and Pomona have all subtly hinted at it to me," Snape looked a bit annoyed. "And I have indeed observed. The children in the house now are all eager for a chance to shine. No one likes to hide their strength like you did back then. They don't have that ability."
"The Headmaster's collection of Firewhisky is indeed very aged." Armostad stood up to stretch his body, but unexpectedly, a wave of dizziness hit him, and he almost stumbled and fell. He held onto the bedpost, rubbing his temples, many thoughts flashing through his mind.
When he heard Snape's subtle complaint and recalled his own wary self from back then, Armostad smiled, "You've got the wrong idea, Professor. I said, their petrification was caused by magic of an abnormal nature. Meaning, this magic doesn't seem to originate from a wizard; it's more like... For example, like the magic flowing in a dragon's blood and nerves, which is vastly different from a wizard's style."
Hermione, hiding behind the door, suddenly widened her yellow eyes, excitedly clenching her paws. Armostad looked amusedly at the ward diagonally opposite. In his vision, the little wizard hiding behind the door was as conspicuous as a moon rising in the darkness.
"So, Salazar Slytherin leaving a monster in the Chamber of Secrets isn't just an absurd rumor, is it?" Snape's voice returned to its grim tone. Slytherin, the greatest of the four founders, had always been the pride of wizards graduating from this house, but at this moment, Snape felt more annoyance than reverence for the house founder.
"From the current situation, this is the most likely possibility." Thinking of the dark wizards in the underground world who coveted Slytherin's secret treasure, Armostad felt amused. They probably wouldn't imagine that what Slytherin painstakingly left in the Chamber of Secrets was merely a magical beast. However, his mission was to find and deliver the contents of the Chamber of Secrets to Kakuzu Flit. What was left in the Chamber of Secrets was none of his business.
Having confirmed that he didn't have the ability to immediately lift the curse, Armostad couldn't get anything more from the petrified Colin and Justin. He re-covered them with their curtains, his tone very indifferent, "Actually, I'm more curious why the attacker, despite having the ability to kill them directly after petrifying them, didn't do so. Is it simply to enjoy the thrill of creating fear? That seems like something only a pervert would do—"
"This question, not only are you and I curious, I believe Miss Hermione Granger is equally curious!" Ouch! Armostad and Snape were about to leave, but as they passed Hermione's ward, Snape suddenly pulled out his wand and fiercely swung it towards that ward. Hermione, caught off guard, let out a startled shriek and stumbled directly out from behind the door, rolling twice before landing precisely at Armostad's feet.
"My goodness—" In the silent stillness, Armostad quietly opened his mouth. He looked at Snape's mocking face for a moment, then lowered his head, glaring at the little wizard who was almost curled into a ball. "When did cat-eared girls appear in the wizarding world?!"