Winding like a snake and spreading like a spider's web, the Devil's Snare quickly permeated Hogwarts' intricate network of pipes.
And so Leonard discovered the secret hidden within them.
"Is Hogwarts' plumbing system actually connected to the Chamber of Secrets?"
Through the vision linked to the Devil's Snare, Leonard quickly found a pipe that ran all the way down to a hollow beneath Hogwarts Castle.
Unlike the secret room on the map, whose location was still unknown, this hollow was real. It connected to the pipes and the underground water system, an honest-to-goodness piece of terrain.
"So the Chamber of Secrets is connected to Hogwarts' plumbing system after all." Leonard cut off his talent, suddenly enlightened.
No wonder the Basilisk had been able to roam through the pipes in the original story. It was simply the easiest route.
But even though the Chamber of Secrets had now been confirmed to exist, one question still remained unresolved. What exactly was Harris Raymons after?
Shouldn't Voldemort have emptied the Chamber of Secrets long ago? There was only a Basilisk in there now. Could Harris Raymons really be going there to get himself killed?
Leonard thought it over. He had originally planned to head into the Chamber himself and stir up trouble with the Basilisk, but that thing was far too dangerous. It came with an instant-kill ability. Leonard was confident he could subdue it with ancient magic and magical plants, but the danger was still there.
That killing power through eye contact alone was too threatening. If the Basilisk caught him in a sneak attack, it would be very easy for it to kill him.
That made Leonard hesitate a little.
He did not need a living Basilisk anyway. Its scales, its fangs, even just its flesh and blood would all be enough for him. There was absolutely no need to risk his life fighting it head-on.
Now Leonard no longer had to struggle with the decision, because Harris Raymons had taken the initiative to explore the Chamber of Secrets.
Whatever the man's purpose was, anyone exploring the Chamber was bound to come face-to-face with the Basilisk.
"I just wonder how long this Defense Against the Dark Arts professor can hold out, and what good stuff he'll manage to find in the Chamber."
Leonard narrowed his eyes and watched as the Devil's Snare inside the pipes snapped apart inch by inch, turning to ash and scattering away with the rushing water.
"But then again... causing trouble in that position is never a good sign," Leonard muttered to himself, his voice carrying a smile that was hard to tell whether it was delight or anticipation.
Leonard did not know how much Harris Raymons knew about the Chamber of Secrets, but in his view, the curse on Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts position was going to push things in a very interesting direction.
If Harris Raymons did not end up running straight into a Basilisk, that would be doing Voldemort's curse a disservice.
...
Leonard's days remained peaceful, with just enough amusement to keep things interesting. Over on Midgard's side, however, the werewolf wizards were still fighting for the status and future of their kind.
Inside Midgard Manor, Midgard sat at the head of the room, looking at the several werewolf wizards seated below her.
Every one of them wore an expression of furious indignation, their faces twisted with clenched-teeth rage. Some were even starting to show faintly lupine features.
This was not the kind of gradual change that came from long-term obsession with staying in werewolf form, like Fenrir Greyback. These werewolf wizards looked more like they were on the verge of transforming, just as they would be on the night of a full moon.
Their body hair had grown wildly, and sharp claws had extended from their fingers...
What was strange, however, was that the transformation had been locked in a fixed state. Though they were furious, none of them had lost their reason. It was as if they were deliberately suppressing the process.
Ever since Midgard had forced the latest Wolfsbane Potion formula out of Damocles through interrogation, lycanthropy had ceased to be a curse for werewolf wizards.
For a small number of them, it had become an advantage.
After drinking the latest Wolfsbane Potion, werewolf wizards would no longer transform uncontrollably on the night of the full moon. Instead, they could control the transformation themselves.
Once transformed, they possessed speed comparable to an Acromantula, strength on par with an Erumpent, and their magic would also receive a major boost.
The only condition was that they had to take the Wolfsbane Potion regularly.
That was right. Although the latest Wolfsbane Potion could already solve the werewolf wizard's curse, it had not solved it completely. Only by drinking one bottle every month could they truly master the power of werewolf transformation.
Without taking the latest Wolfsbane Potion, the lingering medicinal effects could only ensure that a werewolf wizard would not lose their mind on the night of the full moon.
This was Midgard's best leverage over her subordinates.
Midgard had already let her most trusted subordinates, the werewolf wizards in charge of commerce, herb cultivation, base security, and intelligence, try the latest Wolfsbane Potion. The ability to control their own werewolf transformation had greatly increased their power, and it had also made them even more loyal to Midgard.
It could not be helped. The latest Wolfsbane Potion had a time limit. If they did not want to lose the power to fully control their transformation, then they had no choice but to obey Midgard and keep any extra thoughts to themselves.
After all, the crucial potions department was under Midgard's direct control.
Even now, the latest Wolfsbane Potion had not been made public. It was supplied only to the werewolf wizard leaders of several major departments. As for the rest, they could only receive a bottle as a reward after earning merit.
"Everyone, calm down first." Sitting at the head of the room, Midgard looked at the werewolf wizards below her with a sigh.
The latest Wolfsbane Potion had worked even better than she had imagined. That was all thanks to Leonard. Without his magical plants, she would never have been able to make these potions.
But this was not the time for sentiment. The werewolf wizards before her were so furious they were almost unable to hold back their transformations.
"Chief, those bastards have no idea what's good for them. How dare they insult us like this?" said the werewolf wizard in charge of base security angrily.
Her name was Chercy. She was a female werewolf wizard with a striking figure, though still a size smaller than Midgard and closer to an ordinary human build. But although she was female, her ferocity and love of battle were no less than Midgard's.
"Exactly. We werewolf wizards are not what we used to be, but they still treat us the same way. They're asking to die," said Wilder, who was in charge of commerce.
His eyes were full of humiliation, and behind the bloodshot veins there was also a trace of cruelty.
"All right, Wilder. I know you're upset. That's exactly why we're here today, to discuss a solution," said Brady, the werewolf wizard in charge of agriculture, more specifically, herb cultivation.