In the deep night, at the entrance to the second-floor bathroom, where all should be peaceful, a somewhat eerie figure suddenly appeared.
"She" wore a large pink bow on her head. The style of that bow was so exaggerated that just one look would make it hard to forget.
But at this moment, this face had completely lost that sweet smile, replaced instead by absolute coldness and alienation from everything.
Besides the expression, this face looked somewhat different from before.
"Her" face seemed to be slowly changing, transforming from the original toad-like features into other appearances.
Moreover, "she" felt her consciousness was also continuously becoming blurred.
Shaking her head, the somewhat deformed-faced Umbridge rolled up her sleeves and looked at the bright red mark on her arm. The originally blurred consciousness became clear again.
Then "she" reached into her robes and pulled out what appeared to be an old photo frame. Opening the back cover of the frame, she took out a jar containing pink liquid from inside.
The liquid in the jar was only half full. Opening the lid and smelling the contents, "Umbridge" frowned.
Even having drunk it many times, "she" still couldn't stand this sweet yet corrupt smell.
It was like drinking expired syrup. Only by gritting her teeth could she barely swallow it down.
Damn, Lucius, why use such a target to brew Polyjuice Potion?
Frowning, "Umbridge" slowly raised the jar to her mouth and took a large gulp.
The originally deformed face began to recover, returning to that large toad-like appearance.
However, after the face completely returned to Umbridge's features, "she" lifted the clothes on her arm. The originally bright red mark had disappeared, replaced by somewhat loose skin.
"Tch, troublesome."
"Umbridge" frowned. This was the drawback of using Polyjuice Potion. Every time after drinking the potion, the mark had to be carved again.
Thinking this, "she" brought her finger to her arm and scratched the skin with her nail, then viciously slashed downward.
Blood began flowing from her fingertip, but "Umbridge" paid no attention and continued using her nail to forcefully carve on her arm.
Time slowly passed. When both arm and sleeve were soaked with blood, a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth appeared on "her" arm.
Carefully observing her handiwork, "Umbridge" nodded with satisfaction and drew her wand.
"Scourgify."
The sweet voice carried endless coldness. With the spell, the blood on the sleeve and arm dissipated completely, leaving only that bright red mark inscribed on the arm, glowing eerily in the deep night.
After finishing all this, "Umbridge" put the jar back in the photo frame, then fumbled around inside the frame and took out a golden cup. She held it reverently in both hands with a respectful expression, her voice filled with humility and fear.
"Sorry, master. If this identity wants to enter the Department of Mysteries, it'll probably require some time to operate. The defences there are too tight, and there might even be countermeasures against Polyjuice Potion. I need more preparation."
"However, your servant has now infiltrated Hogwarts. I remember you also have things to do here."
After speaking in that sweet voice, "Umbridge" waited a few seconds. The small crown pattern on the golden cup began to twist and deform, showing line after line of text.
[Originally, I planned to have you release something to create some panic, facilitating subsequent actions.]
[But now, I can smell that it has already been released, which means another "me" is active in this school.]
[Find a way to locate him, assist him, let me meet with him.]
[We cannot wait alone for "his" return any longer.]
"Yes, master."
The text on the golden cup fell silent again, but just as Umbridge was respectfully about to return the golden cup to its place, footsteps suddenly sounded from the distance.
A glimmer of lamplight appeared in the corridor, and with the light came a voice that sounded very irritable.
"Who else is wandering around the castle in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?"
At the other end of the corridor, Filch quickened his pace, running at a half-sprint speed toward where the voice had just come from.
Originally, the temporary loss of Mrs Norris had already reduced his dominance over those students by a level. After all, Mrs Norris could hear footsteps through two floors, but he couldn't do such things.
But now these students dared to be so arrogant, even talking in the corridors?
Taking advantage of his temporary loss of Mrs Norris, being so unrestrained. This time, he'd definitely make them know the consequences of breaking school rules!
He'd punish them by making them clean the dungeons!
Running forward angrily, Filch soon saw the figure standing at the bathroom entrance.
Then his anger immediately dissipated by more than half, and with a somewhat stiff smile on his face, he held up his lamp and spoke as gently as possible: "Ms Umbridge, so late... what are you doing here?"
"Ahem." Clearing her throat, Umbridge used that characteristic sweet voice: "I went to the bathroom but got somewhat lost. I wonder if Mr Filch knows which way I should go to return to our temporary accommodation?"
"Go upstairs from here and turn around the corridor."
"Thank you." After sweetly thanking him, Umbridge turned around, swaying her thick waist as she walked toward where Filch had pointed.
Watching that woman's departing figure, the respect on Filch's face gradually disappeared, replaced by some disdain.
He looked at this woman as if she wasn't very strong either. Just relying on her Ministry position to throw her weight around at school.
If it were him with the talent to cast magic, he definitely wouldn't just use his position for such small matters. He would've long become a powerful wizard!
Angrily gritting his teeth, Filch turned around, planning to patrol another corridor.
Just then, as he turned back, he suddenly saw a figure walking slowly, appearing to be searching for something.
"Professor Lockhart? What are you doing here?"
"Ah, it's you, Argus." Lockhart's expression was somewhat unnatural, but he still showed a brilliant smile.
"The school's been somewhat dangerous recently. As a professor, I must fight on the front lines."
"You mean that thing that hurt my Mrs Norris?" A flash of anger appeared in Filch's eyes, then he spoke in a pleading tone: "Then you must catch him and avenge my Mrs Norris!"
"Oh, of course." Lockhart's expression became even more unnatural. He passed by Filch, walking toward the depths of the corridor while speaking in a way that seemed like answering yet like talking to himself:
"I definitely will."