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Chapter 20 - Chapter 20: The March of the Beetles and the Unraveling Cardigan part-1

Chapter 20: The March of the Beetles and the Unraveling Cardigan part-1

But first, I needed to test out Time Dilation.

I looked at Parvati Patil, who was carrying a stack of books near the fireplace. I looked at Seamus, who was tying his shoe. I looked at Hermione, who was walking toward the stairs.

 (Time Dilation: Activate.)

The world slowed down. The flames in the fireplace moved like molasses. Hermione's step froze in mid-air.

I walked—at normal speed relative to myself, but blur speed to everyone else—over to Seamus. I untied his other shoe. I moved a footstool directly into Hermione's path. I placed a banana peel (where did I get that? Pocket dimensions are handy) under Parvati's heel.

I returned to my spot.

(Deactivate.)

Time snapped back.

Seamus stood up, stepped on his lace and face-planted. Parvati slipped on the peel, throwing her books into the air. Hermione tripped over the footstool.

It was a domino effect of chaos. Hermione fell forward, directly into the path of the falling books. Parvati flailed and grabbed Seamus's trousers to steady herself.

The common room erupted into noise.

I stood there, leaning against the wall, watching the symphony I had conducted in the space between seconds.

Being the puppet master was addictive. And poor, sweet Hermione was my favorite marionette.

The morning sun streamed through the high windows of the Gryffindor dormitory, but it did little to lift the gloom that hung over Harry Potter's four-poster bed. The Boy Who Lived was currently lying face down in his pillow, groaning softly.

"Come on, Harry," I said, pulling on my socks. "It is a beautiful day. The birds are singing, the sky is blue and we have Double Transfiguration with the Slytherins."

"I cannot do it, Ron," Harry's muffled voice emerged from the pillow. "I cannot face her. I dreamt about Grindylows last night. But they were wearing lace. It was disturbing."

I suppressed a chuckle. The "Flash Your Wife System" was doing a number on Harry's psyche, but his resistance was definitely crumbling.

(System check,) I thought.

"Good morning, Host," the system replied cheerfully. "You have 410 points. The System Shop is open. Would you like to make a purchase before breakfast?"

(Open Shop,) I commanded.

A holographic menu appeared in my vision, invisible to Dean and Seamus who were arguing over a tie.

Shop Items:

Invisibility Spray (50 points): Turns any object invisible for one hour. The Animator's Dust (100 points): Briefly grants sentience to inanimate objects. Aura of Unraveling (150 points): A passive aura that causes knots to loosen and threads to lose their tension within a five-meter radius. Duration: 30 minutes. Dream Weaver Potion (200 points): Enter the target's dream.

My eyes lingered on the Aura of Unraveling. It was elegant. It was subtle. And coupled with my existing skills, it was devastating.

(Purchase Aura of Unraveling,) I selected.

"Purchase successful. Item stored in Inventory. Activate by mental command."

"Up and at them, Harry!" I said, ripping the covers off him. "Hermione needs us. She is probably building a fortress of books in the common room to hide behind. We need to support her."

Harry sat up, his hair sticking up in every direction. "You are right. I cannot abandon her. Even if she is... strangely accident-prone lately."

We found Hermione in the common room. She looked like she was preparing for war. She was wearing her standard uniform, but over it, she had put on a thick, beige, grandmotherly knitted cardigan that buttoned all the way to her chin. She had also wrapped a Gryffindor scarf around her neck, despite being indoors.

"Morning, Hermione," I said, grabbing an apple from a bowl on the table. "You look... warm."

"I am taking no chances," she said, her voice muffled by the scarf. "This cardigan is made of double-stitch enchanted wool. My mother sent it. It is indestructible. And I have used a Permanent Sticking Charm on the buttons."

(Challenge accepted,) I thought, admiring her resilience.

We headed to Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was strict, precise and tolerated no nonsense. It was the perfect environment for chaos.

The classroom was arranged with rows of desks. On each desk sat a small matchbox containing a large, shiny black beetle.

"Today," McGonagall announced, "we will be continuing our study of Animate to Inanimate transformations. Specifically, you will be turning your beetle into a coat button."

She demonstrated. With a sharp tap of her wand, the beetle on her desk vanished and was replaced by a sleek, black button.

"Begin," she ordered.

Hermione, naturally, got it on the first try. She tapped her beetle. Pop. A perfect button lay on her desk.

"Excellent, Miss Granger," McGonagall praised. "Five points to Gryffindor."

Hermione beamed, her confidence returning slightly. She leaned back in her chair, the thick cardigan providing a sense of security. Harry sat next to her, struggling to stop his beetle from running away.

I sat behind them.

(System, activate Aura of Unraveling,) I commanded.

"Aura active," the system confirmed. "Duration: Thirty minutes."

I felt a strange hum in the air. It was a subtle vibration that targeted tension.

I watched the back of Hermione's cardigan. It was a complex weave of wool. But under the influence of the aura, the microscopic friction holding the fibers together began to fade.

Wait. That was too slow. I needed a catalyst.

I looked at the loose thread dangling from the hem of her cardigan, near the floor.

(Telekinesis,) I thought.

I guided the loose thread and wrapped it around the leg of her chair.

"Harry, you need to visualize the button," Hermione was instructing, leaning forward slightly to help him.

As she leaned forward, the thread pulled taut.

Because of the Aura of Unraveling, the knot that should have held the knitting together simply gave up.

It started at the bottom. The wool began to unspool.

Zip.

It was silent but deadly. As Hermione moved, the cardigan began to dissolve from the bottom up. The back panel vanished, turning into a pile of crinkled yarn on the floor behind her.

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