Sterling stood at the Astronomy Tower's peak, overlooking Hogwarts, its stones scorched black in many places by flames.
Fawkes nestled beside him, long tail feathers coiled around his left arm. Warm flames spread from the phoenix's body to Sterling's, making him almost a flickering star against the darkening sky.
At this dusk hour, he was even more conspicuous.
"Look, atop the Astronomy Tower!"
He heard the Weasley twins' hoarse cries, their voices thick with exhaustion.
Following the twins' guidance, more people spotted Sterling bathed in fire, but he didn't care, nor did he want any disguise for himself.
Dumbledore's words surfaced in his mind.
"Hogwarts cannot bear this—no, the entire British magical community cannot bear this riot. The four houses absolutely cannot antagonize each other, and they absolutely cannot split from being Hogwarts students into merely some house's students—this would be catastrophic chaos."
"This is the entire British magical community's future. Sterling, I beg you, if possible, please grant the British magical community a future."
Suddenly, "Witness of the Author" didn't wait for Sterling's summons, spontaneously emerging from the void and flipping before him to a new page—a pure golden page that seemed to radiate its own light.
Sterling's magical vision opened involuntarily. Then he saw the largest "thread" of his life.
With this golden page as its core, virtually endless golden threads spread outward in all directions. Everything his eyes fell upon was swallowed by this golden tide, an ocean of shimmering strands.
Sterling had to close his eyes, preventing himself from being burned by this overwhelming brilliance.
But the golden page still appeared before him, visible even through closed eyelids. A line of elegant script materialized in the lower right corner.
"●●● is anticipating your first stroke upon destiny."
There was no time to ponder this "●●●" reference—Sterling felt an invisible force compelling him to raise the pen, then place its tip on paper.
"All of Hogwarts"
The first time he'd used such an abstract scope as a subject—just writing these words nearly drained Sterling's physical strength completely.
Just then, a high cry resounded throughout the entire sky.
The warmth emanating from his left arm instantly intensified into scorching heat. Vast life force flowed through flames into his body, allowing him to raise the pen again.
"Returns to yesterday's state."
Two text segments floated from the golden page, shining brilliantly as they flew skyward. Everyone at Hogwarts could see this gleaming proclamation.
"All of Hogwarts—returns to yesterday's state?"
Draco, knocked down by Neville, lay sprawled on the lawn, struggling to comprehend the sentence.
Then he lost consciousness.
Golden light barriers rose at all of Hogwarts' edges, enclosing the entire castle and grounds. Everything within this range, including Sterling himself, instantly lost consciousness.
Inside the light barrier was deathly gray-white silence.
Color seemed completely extracted, leaving only a scene like a black-and-white photograph frozen in time.
Then everything began reversing.
Ashes restored to their original state; evaporated water returned to cups; scraped wrists recalled blood splattered on stones; magic used and dissipated between heaven and earth flowed back into young wizards' bodies; germinated seeds returned to embryos; already-digested fish swam half out from people's mouths, reconnecting with the other half swimming backward from waste; a senior couple who'd just confirmed their romantic relationship returned to an ambiguous state—
When everything returned to "yesterday's state," the light barriers descended and colors were gradually rendered back into the world.
Sterling opened his eyes, rising from the preservation potion.
Harry, Ron and Hermione simultaneously opened their eyes as well. Then Terry, awakening from sleep, immediately looked toward Sterling with recognition.
They—people selected by Sterling—still retained the "reversed" memories.
Sterling punched through the glass, then swiftly "opened" the other three jars as quickly as possible.
"We have no time to waste—even with Fawkes's entire life force supporting me, I only had enough power to return to yesterday. That magic making everyone impulsive and irritable must already be brewing. We must find it immediately."
If they could prevent "today's" school-wide riot from erupting, Dumbledore could work to repair the rifts between the four houses.
"Terry, any thoughts? Among us, you observed the most."
Terry was startled at being addressed. He pulled from his chest pocket an exquisite booklet, quickly opening it, then broke into a cold sweat.
"This one—completely blackened?"
"This one too, and this one—oh, this one isn't fully black—"
Terry flipped through blackened pages until reaching the last page, reading it aloud:
"He came, at [garbled gold text], the golden sword severed his worldly tentacles."
The original "on that most relaxed afternoon" had been replaced by a string of golden garbled text.
"This is a prophecy?" Sterling asked curiously, immediately sensing the distinctive aura that flashed across Terry when he'd first opened the book.
Great, another Thirteen Magic.
Did Dumbledore confusedly misremember how to obtain Thirteen Magic engravings? Harry's trio was one thing, but Terry hadn't even entered Avalon.
However, since it's Thirteen Magic—just trust it.
"Right, my prophecies are very accurate now." Terry proudly raised his head. Harry interjected, "Then can you prophesy Voldemort's location?"
Terry awkwardly shook his head.
"I don't dare—every time I even think about it, my hands inexplicably shake, and I feel faint—"
"This is normal. Voldemort cannot be actively prophesied about."
Sterling summoned the quill, casually writing a string of characters on the nearby glass wall.
"The person interfering with Hogwarts students' emotions"
The text shimmered, then responded:
"The person interfering with Hogwarts students' emotions is angrily smashing things in the Forbidden Forest keeper's hut."
Sterling's eyes narrowed dangerously.
Forbidden Forest keeper's hut—wasn't that Hagrid's place?
Currently, in Hagrid's hut.
"Peeves" suddenly awakened from a dream with a jolt—what a wonderful dream it had been! Four houses mutually dissatisfied, attacking each other. Hostile emotions had shattered that damned old fool's blessing on Hogwarts, causing that dead-but-restless old crow's magic to cascade and fail. He'd been about to leave this place that had imprisoned him for over eight hundred years—
Then those golden light barriers had risen before his eyes...
Glancing at Voldemort still applying the "mummy curse" to his Inferius body, Peeves showed a mocking smile.
Doesn't even know he was "reversed." Present-world wizards just can't make the grade.
He sank back into "Peeves's" depths. The poltergeist produced a string of mischievous mad laughter, banging open the door and disappearing into the Forbidden Forest's depths.
Voldemort glanced at the departing Peeves, cursing darkly under his breath.
That damned madman had switched personalities again at a critical moment. Fortunately, control of his magic array had already transferred to himself.
Looking at the scarlet magic array glowing beneath his feet, Voldemort showed a sinister smile.
Dumbledore was absent—no one had detected his plan.
In this Hogwarts, who could possibly do anything to me?