It was still the dead of night, utterly silent. The residents of Hogsmeade were all deep in sleep. From time to time, Dementors drifted through the village, searching for a target they had no chance of actually finding.
Out on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, in a not-very-dense patch of woods, two figures were racing through the trees. Both moved with great agility, running swiftly even through the snow-covered forest.
Occasionally, moonlight fell through gaps in the branches. As they passed, their originally pitch-black silhouettes briefly came into view.
The one running in front was a large black dog, broad-shouldered and powerful, its stride full of force, yet it was the one fleeing. Not far behind it was a short figure wrapped in a gray cloak. He looked barely taller than the dog, but he was driving it to flee at full speed.
Naturally, this was Sirius Black, and Marcel still wearing his disguise.
A short while earlier, Marcel had happened to glimpse Black roaming through Hogsmeade. At first, Marcel had planned to ignore him, but then changed his mind.
When Marcel had chased Black into a narrower alleyway, Sirius, still in his Animagus form, suddenly turned and leapt at him.
Black had thought he could quickly deal with his tail. Things did not go as he expected.
Under two extremely fast Stunning Spells from Marcel, the black dog gave a sharp yelp and was blasted away.
It was clear that Black's physical condition was poor. He did dodge on instinct, but his body clearly couldn't keep up with his reflexes.
And so, Black and Marcel began a snowfield chase.
Neither of them drew the Dementors' attention. They chased and fled all the way to the woods on the edge of Hogsmeade.
At the start, Marcel was almost shaken off by Black's consecutive bursts of speed. But when Marcel muttered a few words under his breath, his own movement suddenly sped up greatly.
As time passed, the distance between them grew shorter and shorter.
"Impedimenta!"
Marcel finally seized the right moment. As Black pushed off a tree trunk to leap ahead, Marcel released the spell he had long prepared.
Immediately, Black's movements slowed. In the moonlight, Marcel could even see the dog's fur rippling in the wind.
Just as Marcel was about to cast his next spell, though, he saw Black's body begin to warp and twist, and in an instant he had reverted to human form.
"Protego."
Black's dueling ability was still strong, especially his judgment in the moment. Instead of trying to free himself first, he forced his wand arm to move and cast a Shielding Charm on himself.
When Marcel's next Stunning Spell slammed into him, the red light of Marcel's magic was blocked just in time.
Then Black shouted, "Finite incantatem!"
Marcel reacted at once. Black was trying to use the general counter-curse to break the Impediment Jinx—this was an opportunity!
"Expelliarmus!" Marcel immediately followed up.
The next second, though, when he saw Black still floating in midair, he realized—he'd been tricked.
Almost the instant after Marcel cast his Disarming Spell, Black also cast one of his own.
His timing was exact. Even though Marcel sensed something wrong and broke off the spell and dove aside, it was still too late.
The two Disarming Spells struck almost simultaneously, but Black still had the remains of the Shielding Charm on him.
Although Marcel's spell hit Black squarely, it only blasted his wand out of his hand. In contrast, Black's spell merely caught Marcel's calf—yet Marcel's wand was already flying into Black's grasp.
"Petrificus totalus!"
Marcel tried to push himself up, but Black was faster.
He braced himself for the Full Body-Bind to take hold—but nothing happened. He could still move.
Without wondering why, he immediately pulled out a small bottle and flung it into the bushes not far from Black.
A cloud of smoke exploded, spreading rapidly through the woods, and in a moment the area was wrapped in white fog. Both sides lost sight of each other.
"Focus."
Marcel simply closed his eyes and extended his senses.
For a time, the howling of the cold wind, the rustle of branches and grass, and the sound of Black's footsteps all overlapped, weaving together in Marcel's perception into a rough but clear "world".
After long practice, the sensory technique he'd stolen from that assassin had grown considerably stronger.
He could now even "see" Black walking towards where Marcel's wand had flown, relying purely on memory.
Having judged Black's path, Marcel threw out another bottle. It arced through the air and landed in a clump of bushes a short distance away with a small thump.
That tiny noise was enough to make Black instantly shift back into his Animagus form and bolt in the opposite direction.
This time, Marcel did not give chase. He leaned against a tree trunk and sank into thought.
"...What made me think I could easily handle Sirius Black?"
Ever since enrolling at Hogwarts, Marcel's progress in magic had far outstripped that of his peers, and surpassed many adult wizards as well. It was something to be proud of; even Dumbledore had praised him many times for it.
Though he constantly reminded himself that the path of magical exploration was infinitely long, and that with his current progress he had only taken the very first step, when almost no one around him could be compared to him, his self-assessment was inevitably skewed.
He wasn't arrogant, nor had he underestimated his opponent—in the absence of emotion, he had no chance to feel arrogant.
But it was precisely because he'd lost the mode of thinking he was used to, that purely rational behavior had become a kind of obstacle to his judgment.
Without emotion, reason stood alone, and Marcel's ability to judge had quietly declined.
"Even if I can fool others with fake emotions, there's no fooling myself... is there?" Marcel muttered.
The white smoke gradually thinned, revealing a small figure leaning against a tree. In the cold wind of the snowy night, he pulled his old felt cloak tighter around himself.
The already heavy night seemed to grow even darker.
…
After that night, Marcel's actions became much more cautious.
After all, if anyone had had their wand taken because of their own misjudgment, they would likely be the same.
Although Marcel had picked up Sirius Black's wand and, in practice, using it wasn't much different—any wand would do for him—this was still not his own.
"If I can make my own wand someday, I'm definitely adding a wrist strap or something..." Marcel muttered under his breath in the Room of Requirement as he adjusted the bloodline modification formula once again.
Recently, he had completed another round of trials with Aragog. Though the modification still hadn't succeeded, he had made a major breakthrough in the experimental data.
At this point, success was virtually assured.
Just as Marcel finished adjusting the formula and was about to head down to the Great Hall for dinner, Luna suddenly appeared at his side.
"Hey, you know? Halloween's coming soon," Luna said dreamily, tilting her head.
"Hmm?" Marcel looked up. "Oh, right... Hogsmeade."
"That's right, want to go for a walk together?" Luna asked.
Marcel thought for a moment, then nodded.
Honestly, Hogsmeade wasn't safe right now. Having him go along would be better... even if he had now lost his reliable sense of his own strength.
Luna looked very happy. She smiled faintly, making it clear she was really looking forward to the outing, which made Marcel shake his head.
There was still more than half a month until Halloween!
After dinner, Marcel said goodbye to Luna and headed straight for Snape's office.
"Knock knock"
"Professor, it's me, Marcel Maclean."
"Come in."
When Snape's cold voice came from inside, Marcel pushed the door open.
"Professor, this month's batch."
Marcel placed a potion bottle lightly on Snape's desk.
This was the second bottle of Wolfsbane Potion he had brewed. In terms of speed, he was clearly faster than last month.
"...Hmm." Snape checked it and nodded.
"I'll be going, then," Marcel said, inclining his head politely and turning to leave, but Snape called him back.
"I have something else. Take it to Lupin," Snape said lightly, putting the Wolfsbane Potion back on the desk.
He looked calm, but his eyes clearly showed impatience. He obviously did not want to see his "old classmate" Lupin.
Marcel paused, then turned back, picked up the potion again.
"Alright, Professor," he said calmly. "If possible, I can deliver it every month from now on..."
"Do that," Snape agreed immediately.
"Good night, Professor." Marcel bowed again and left with the Wolfsbane Potion.
In the office, Snape stared at the now-closed door, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
"Occlumency," he murmured after a while.
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