Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Vid’s Magic Wand, like a conductor’s baton, gently waved.

In an instant, a magical scene appeared:

The rough tape and haphazard bandages were invisibly unraveled, mismatched gears and twisted wires clanked to the ground, and the crabs’ once twisted joints unfolded.

In the blink of an eye, a dozen Cleaning Crabs were disassembled as if under a reverse button, silently and smoothly breaking down into scattered parts.

”Ah!”

Filch couldn’t help but exclaim in distress, quickly closing his mouth for fear of disturbing Vid’s repair process.

Gears, bearings, shells, joints... small and large parts spread out on the ground, glistening with the unique luster of metal, revealing a peculiar beauty.

Then, Vid opened his pen pouch, spilling onto the ground various Alchemy Materials prepped by the Poppets within the space, forming a small heap in the blink of an eye.

Vid looked thoughtfully at the materials before again waving his Magic Wand, softly reciting a Spell.

As the Spell echoed through the room, the materials seemed to awaken with life; silver threads swam toward broken joints; metal sheets gently rolled themselves up, crystals tinkled, searching for their place.

The scattered parts automatically assembled under the guidance of Magic Power, emitting subtle, delightful clicks. Filch watched with wide eyes, dumbstruck.

With the final magic glow absorbed into the crab’s shell, the dozen Cleaning Crabs renewed, even more beautiful than before, their eyes shimmering gently, bodies humming cheerfully.

A few immediately displayed their diligent nature, darting around the room attacking accumulated grime in the corners over months, lifting their newly formed pincers to clean moss from stone crevices;

And more little crabs rustled over to Vid and Filch’s feet, rubbing affectionately against them as if expressing intimacy and gratitude.

”All, all fixed! They’re all fixed!”

Filch, looking at the scene, spoke shakily with excitement.

He crouched down, extending his rough hand, carefully caressing their smooth shells, even cradling one in his arms and kissing it reverently.

This typically murky, irritable caretaker now had reddened eyes, large tears rolling unexpectedly as he choked out incoherent thanks:

”Thank you... Thank you, Mr. Riddle... They, they’re like my children... I truly don’t know how to thank you enough...”

He wiped his face haphazardly with his sleeve like a kid, yet the more he wiped, the dirtier it became.

The little crab in his arms suddenly became excited, waving its pincers, the end with fluffy fabric wiping Filch’s face, also spewing colorful bubbles to aid cleaning.

After two swipes, Filch’s face bore two red marks.

Yet he seemed entirely unaware of any pain, foolishly grinning, saying, ”Oh, cute little thing, it knows to wipe my tears!”

Watching Filch’s tearful excitement, Vid couldn’t help but smile, thinking: I should have come sooner.

When he initially saw the broken crabs in the office, Vid had thought of helping repair them.

But later, the third project competition, Voldemort’s resurrection, Time Particles...

One troublesome matter followed the next, causing Vid to forget this.

Leaving the dark, somber yet reunion-fueled atmosphere of the office, Vid walked down the castle’s long corridors, inexplicably lighter in mood, even temporarily setting aside the plane attack incident.

In his mind flashed Filch’s tearful excitement, and also his parents’ expressions the first time they entered Diagon Alley.

A Dud born into the Magic World cannot use Magic; even their own family may treat them as flawed, many Wizard Clans unwilling to acknowledge having a Dud relative—despite how common this is.

Duds either, like the Greys, leave the Magic World entirely; in ordinary society, they may not achieve a good life, but always hold some regret.

Or, like Filch, withstand disdainful gazes, forcing themselves to remain in the Magic World, hoping to regain Magic’s favor, suffering throughout life.

But in either scenario, Duds face an invisible barrier, always creating a divide between them and others.

Then...

Vid wondered: is there a way to break down this barrier?

He recalled concept diagrams seen in science magazines—powered exoskeletons, full-body armor.

Before his crossing, these concepts hadn’t yet materialized, but had birthed invention embryos.

And for Poppets, achieving the same is much simpler... a slight modification on the current basis; no need to inject flexible thought, just understanding basic commands could greatly improve Dud and ordinary lives.

For example, levitating boots; gloves imbued with Levioso, easily completing heavy labor; cloaks changing shape and color...

Countless inspirations like bubbling thoughts surged from his mind, an old familiar urge to create and explore unknowns made Vid’s heart feverish, itching to immediately wield his Magic Wand, turning ideas into reality!

...

”Actually, it wasn’t simply an accident.”

Apparition home, facing worried inquiries from his parents, Vid finally recalled; a few hours ago, the plane he took turned into a fireball at the airport.

He hugged his parents, explaining, ”The plane was struck by lightning in the end; it was actually Dumbledore’s magic. Doing so completely erased all traces left on the plane since some facts were difficult to explain at that moment.”

Fiona let out a long sigh of relief: ”Thank goodness, that’s what it was... I’ve been terribly scared, worried you wouldn’t leave the plane in time, getting struck by lightning!”

”So the hijacking incident, was it resolved by you all?” Ferdinand pondered, saying, ”Alastor and Mr. Lupin certainly played significant roles; we should thank them properly in return.”

”Instead of this, I have a fantastic idea and want your opinion...”

Vid, still immersed in excitations of endless inspirations, had little interest in discussing the bygone hijacking incident, his thoughts flying toward an alluring, entirely new field of creation.

”Dad, Mom, listen to me, what if there was such a thing...”