As Baron spoke, he opened the suitcase he'd been keeping by his feet. "Let me show you the device I made myself—don't worry, it's an ordinary spider inside, not an Acromantula."
Inside the suitcase was a glass jar about the size of a Quaffle. A pitch-black ordinary spider lay listlessly at the bottom, with a pile of small flying insects beside it that were presumably food.
"To keep the spider's emotions stable under normal conditions, I coated the inside of the enclosure with some acacia blossom extract," Baron explained as he set the jar on the table. "It's a primary ingredient in the Calming Draught and helps maintain emotional stability."
"And that's it?" Avada asked.
"For now, yes."
"Let me think…"
This device was very likely to become the lifeline for Muggle-born students for quite some time to come—and a key piece in exposing the Board of Governors' conspiracy. Faced with something this important, Avada had to devote his full attention to careful consideration. Under normal circumstances, this would be the moment for a sip of Wit-Sharpening Potion—but unfortunately, he was still in recovery and couldn't afford it.
He set down his knife and fork, drew his wand, and aimed it at the poor spider. Closing his eyes, he furrowed his brow and carefully sensed the spider's mental and vital energies. Only after a long while did he look back up at Baron.
"With this kind of spider, its sensitivity to a Basilisk is a bit too strong—roughly a fifty-meter radius. If the Basilisk happens to be active, that range could be even larger. That would cover most of the castle, which isn't very meaningful on an individual level…"
Avada tapped the glass jar lightly with his wand. "I suggest adding a spell to suppress the diffusion of mental energy, limiting the spider's detection range. A radius of twenty to thirty meters would be sufficient."
"And the spider's other stress responses need to be constrained as well. We should also add some shock resistance…"
"Oh, and there's another point. A student carrying this device won't necessarily be watching the spider's movements all the time. We need a spell to monitor the spider's condition—once it enters a state of panic, the device should immediately issue a warning."
"And it needs to be as portable and inconspicuous as possible. This jar is a bit too large right now, but we still need to provide adequate living space for the spider. That might be addressed by selecting an appropriate spider species…"
"Mm. Very valuable suggestions…"
At some point, a notepad had appeared in Baron's hand, and he was jotting down Avada's ideas as quickly as he could. "But if we do all that, won't the difficulty of making each device be a bit high? These need to be issued to every Muggle-born student."
"It won't be," Avada said, shaking his head. "Give me half an hour and I can develop the supporting spells. The casting difficulty should be controllable at around third- or fourth-year level. If we get a few more people involved, it'll be enough."
"That fast?" Baron stared at him in surprise. "Isn't your mental strength still recovering? Don't go using Wit-Sharpening Potion again…"
"There's no need for that with minor spells like these," Avada replied with a smile, then continued analyzing. "For spider selection, we can consult Professor Kettleburn or Hagrid and ask for their advice, then contact shops in Diagon Alley to supply them in bulk. At this pace, one Christmas holiday should be enough to make all the devices needed for the school's Muggle-born students."
He finished the food on his plate in a few quick bites, then stood up. "Time is of the essence. I'll go develop the necessary spells right now. I'll borrow this jar for the moment."
"Mm."
With such an important matter at hand, Baron lost his appetite as well. "Then I'll go ask Professor Kettleburn about the spiders."
"Good," Avada nodded. "We need to be quick—aim to finish all the devices for the Muggle-born students staying at school before Christmas. If we can save even one more person, it's worth it."
"Right now, the Basilisk's eyes should be covered with some kind of transparent layer—like goggles—which is why its gaze doesn't kill outright and only causes petrification. But if the Board of Governors sees that their threat isn't working and that large numbers of Muggle-born students are still staying at school, they might really remove the Basilisk's eye covering and let it slaughter freely, pinning everything on the so-called will of the castle… We have to race against time."
"They probably won't go that far just yet," Baron said, trying to reassure him, though his expression didn't relax in the slightest. "After all, Dumbledore wouldn't sit by and let that happen. They're still lacking someone who can confront Dumbledore head-on…"
"They'll have one soon," Avada said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention before lowering his voice further. "Snape confirmed it for me—the true mastermind behind all of this is Voldemort himself. Don't be too shocked—you saw him split his soul, didn't you? He'd done the same thing before that. That's why there's more than one Voldemort in the world. Each fragment likely has the potential to revive independently, just like Professor Beck."
"If they secretly resurrect Voldemort while they're occupying Hogwarts, then things will really get messy."
"Does Dumbledore know?"
"He does. Snape passed that information to me on Dumbledore's instructions."
"That's good."
Baron finally let out a breath. "At least the situation is still within controllable limits… Wait—didn't you say earlier that Professor Snape swore an Unbreakable Vow to the Board of Governors? How is he passing so much information to you?"
"Honestly, I don't know either. He acts like he doesn't care about that vow at all…"
Avada's eyes showed a trace of confusion as well. "If I had to guess, either he used some ambiguity when making the vow and left a loophole, or miraculous Dumbledore intervened somehow."
"…All right."
Baron stood up too. "Then I won't be going home this Christmas either. I'll stay at school and help you make the spider devices."
"Good."
Avada didn't refuse—there were hundreds of Muggle-born students at the school, and he couldn't possibly handle it alone. Besides, Baron's magical ability was more than trustworthy.
"In three days it'll be the Christmas holidays. If we finish developing the spells today and place the order with Diagon Alley, we can start production tomorrow. That means we need to make around twenty or thirty devices in two days… a bit of pressure, but manageable."
"And don't forget distribution. Most people now believe the petrifications are really caused by the so-called will of the castle. We'll have to convince those students that the culprit is in fact a Basilisk. Luckily, the school has already posted the list of Muggle-born students—otherwise, our workload would've multiplied several times over… I'll stop here. I'm off to see Professor Kettleburn. You move quickly on your end too."
"Got it."
Avada nodded and didn't say anything more. Holding the glass jar with the spider, he quickly left the lively common room and found a quiet empty classroom to sit down in.
If we can effectively promote this device and completely prevent—or at least drastically reduce—the petrification incidents, then it's practically ironclad proof of the Basilisk's existence. At that point, we can force the Board of Governors to explain themselves, or even alert the entire magical society…
That way, I wouldn't even need to personally break into the Chamber. Investigators would tear apart the old pipes, drag the Basilisk out, and kill it. The Board's conspiracy would collapse on its own, Dumbledore could return smoothly, and the hardline pure-blood faction would be crushed… And on my end, I'd finally have time to focus on researching the repentance effect and extract the soul fragment from the Horcrux diary as soon as possible!
(End of Chapter)