Hearing Chard's surprised whisper, Hagrid's expression instantly tensed.
"Shh," Hagrid cautioned.
"You can't say that out loud."
"The consequences of raising a Five-legged beast are far graver than raising a Dragon," Chard continued.
"I did feed one once," he added, a hint of recollection in his voice.
Hagrid's usually calm demeanor twisted into rare horror.
"It's indeed an extraordinarily evil magical creature," he admitted. "Besides Dementors, I've never seen anything more malevolent."
Chard's expression mirrored the seriousness. If Hagrid—a half-Giant who considered even the fiercest magical creatures "docile little darlings"—was terrified of a Five-legged beast, it spoke volumes about the danger of the creature. It also hinted at the formidable challenge of Dereria Island, where many such beasts roamed, making the acquisition of pute fruit a near-impossible task.
Chard's immediate concern was locating Dereria Island.
"Isn't it already blockaded by the Ministry of Magic?" he asked. "No one has seen a Five-legged beast for years. Hagrid, where did you get it from?"
Hagrid shook his head slowly.
"I didn't get it," he confessed. "It was a Gryffindor friend of mine. During a Quidditch practice, his broom went out of control and carried him north, deep into the sea. When he finally returned, he had brought a young Five-legged beast back with him. None of us knew what it was at first, but once we realized, Merlin above, we nearly… well, you get the idea. In the end, I don't know what he did with it, but he claimed at least it didn't endanger the Castle."
Hearing this, a spark of insight lit Chard's mind. He recalled the final battle in the original story: Harry had entered the Room of Requirement to find the diadem, discovering countless forbidden items stored by generations of students. Among the descriptions was mention of an iron cage containing the carcass of an unknown animal with five legs. It had to be the Five-legged beast. The Gryffindor student must have locked it there, just like the myriad Dark Arts objects collected over the years.
Chard's pulse quickened. If the student had only encountered the beast by accident, this suggested that Dereria Island was not far from Hogwarts—likely hidden by Ministry magic to prevent accidental entry. Yet, if students had once made it in, the barrier's strength likely focused solely on containing the Five-legged beast. His Platinum Grade Night Vision, which allowed him to detect magical "particles," could help him trace the protective enchantment at night.
Chard's thoughts drifted to the North Sea, mentioned by Hagrid. Muggle legends spoke of monstrous creatures there. Until the seventeenth century, sightings of unknown sea animals were frequent—actually magical creatures, now increasingly rare due to environmental changes and Ministry interference. The Ministry redirected shipping lanes to avoid these areas, reducing exposure. Yet some sailors still reported glimpses of enormous forms in the waves at night. Wizards entering the North Sea at night risked drawing attention from magical sea creatures, perhaps even the massive, tentacled Kraken—rumored to reach over 150 meters. Historically, several ships intruding into its territory were dragged into the depths. After the Ministry's Confundo spells, such incidents ceased.
Despite these dangers, the probability of a Wizard encountering a Kraken remained low, so it wasn't classified as a 5X-level threat. Still, night explorations were perilous. Chard hesitated, weighing the risks carefully.
As he pondered, his gaze fell beneath the Guardian Tree, where a parchment Quirrell had slipped earlier now lay partially buried. The silver aura along the edges of its leaves shimmered like moonlight. Chard's heart sank: the Two-Faced Man was contacting him again. This was the third time recently. Each contact transmitted Acromantula blood through the parchment, allowing Chard to expand the output of his blood emeralds while providing blood containing chronic poison for the Two-Faced Man to recover. Though beneficial, the process always felt suffocating.
Chard took a deep breath and examined the parchment. This time, it bore no request for his blood. Instead, a question appeared—one he hadn't expected:
"Junior, you've been reading extensively about Five-legged beasts in the library recently. Are you interested in them?"
Chard's pupils narrowed, confusion rising. The tone didn't match Quirrell—it felt like Lord Voldemort himself. Though still regaining strength, why would Voldemort personally monitor his research on Five-legged beasts? Quirrell, observing this, shared the same bewilderment.
"Master," Quirrell began, hesitant, "such power is precious. How can it be spent on this question? May I—"
Voldemort's laugh cut him off.
"Quirrell, you don't understand Sharl. He has surpassed even my expectations." His eyes gleamed with admiration. "First, he sought the blood of magical creatures like Acromantulas. Now, he searches for Five-legged beasts. This confirms it: Sharl is breaking free from the limitations of innate talent, seeking to surpass himself through bloodline and physical modification. The Five-legged beast inspired Flesh and Blood Transfiguration, a forbidden branch of Dark Arts Transfiguration. And Sharl is pursuing it!"
Quirrell's eyes widened in shock. This boy, seemingly honest and straightforward, harbored depths even Dumbledore might never detect.
Voldemort continued, his excitement barely contained. "Dumbledore doesn't see the darkness in Sharl's heart, but I do. He walks this path of his own accord, untouched by my influence—yet he will become my most potent pawn, positioned right beside Dumbledore. At the right moment, he could even end Dumbledore's life."
Quirrell's admiration deepened.
"The darkness in Sharl's heart is evident to Master," he whispered.
Sharl hesitated, then wrote cautiously on the parchment, as though revealing a secret:
"Senior Sister, how did you know? You won't tell anyone, will you?"
Voldemort's hand seemed triumphant in the ink.
"You can trust Senior Sister Dai Er Fei. I understand your ambitions. The Dark Arts knowledge in the Five-legged beast offers power unattainable in a lifetime to ordinary Wizards. Sharl, you need not fear losing humanity if you pursue this path. A vast Magical World awaits those who dare to transform their talent through blood, Transfiguration, and calculated sacrifice."
Obscure, twisted magical knowledge flowed through the parchment. Sharl's pupils contracted to pinpricks as the principles of Black Magic Transformation—Flesh and Blood Transfiguration—flooded his mind.
"This is… Transfiguration? No… a forbidden Dark Arts Transfiguration!" he muttered, recoiling. He knew the risks. Voldemort's gifts often concealed unbearable costs. But his planting system offered a safer, controlled path.
Voldemort's words continued, seductive and precise:
"Using blood from 5X-level magical creatures enhances your lineage. One type offers minor improvements; three types balance internal conflicts, producing stronger results; seven types, carefully modulated, yield astonishing transformations. Your genius makes this achievable."
Sharl immediately buried the parchment again, exhaling slowly. Sweat dotted his forehead. Voldemort's power was overwhelming; even encased in the Guardian Tree's protective aura, the magic pressed against his mind.
Yet knowledge of the one, three, seven pattern clarified a puzzle he'd long pondered. One of his blood emerald groups, nurtured with dragon and Acromantula blood, had withered despite expectations. Now he understood: the two blood types conflicted, consuming each other. A third type was needed for balance.
The revelation lit his eyes. The effects of blood emeralds—enhancing Legendary Life and Power, granting Dragon Fire and Poison abilities—were already significant. Introducing a third 5X-level creature blood could elevate them to Platinum Grade, exponentially increasing all rewards. Using seven types might achieve even greater mastery.
Sharl's heart surged. Though dangerous, the knowledge offered unparalleled power. But success required precise modulation, careful calculation, and the wisdom to navigate Voldemort's seductive, perilous guidance.
With renewed determination, his gaze fell on the parchment. The path of Black Magic Transformation loomed before him, fraught with risk, yet brimming with untold potential.
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