200: Chapter 200 Summer Vacation Letter War

"Snape is sending you homework? He won't even let you go during summer vacation? Was this guy bitten to death by an essay in his past life?"

The door knocker read the letter delivered by the Hogwarts owl, its iron ring clanking, "One every two weeks, he really is raising you like a Potion jar."

Allen Potter's left fingertips had just returned to normal, and he was using a Muggle fountain pen to fill in the dates on the files of the Wizard with the round hat.

Hearing Snape's name, he put down his pen.

The handwriting on the envelope was Snape's, pressed heavily, as if every stroke was meant to pierce through the paper.

The family crest checked the letter first, "No Tracking Curse. No traces of Legilimency. Includes a standard reminder marker, which has expired. The paper is from the Hogwarts dungeons."

Allen Potter opened the letter.

The first paragraph was short, demanding the revised version of the last Dementor environmental report; the phrasing was biting, pointing out three citation errors.

The second paragraph was the real knife.

"Extra question: Describe the theoretical impact of Spatial Folding on the flow of time. Limit to fifteen inches. Cite public literature; making things up is prohibited."

The door knocker finished reading, its cursing stopped for two breaths, "How did he smell the scent of the cracked pocket watch?"

Peter Pettigrew lay against the edge of the cage, his expression ugly, "The old bat is testing you. He has seen too many students write nonsense; fifteen inches is enough for him to tell whether you know it or not. If you write too deeply, he will latch on and not let go. If you write too shallowly, he will still bite."

"This question is a hook." Allen Potter pressed the letter on the table, "He isn't checking the location of the cracked pocket watch; he's checking whether I understand the connection between space and time."

The family crest pulled up the public bibliography of the Hogwarts Library. "Spatial Folding and Short-Distance Teleportation Errors," "Time Illusions in Travel Spells," "Selected Reports on magic Accidents, 1892–1936." These books were enough to write a mediocre essay, and enough to skirt around the truth at key points.

Allen Potter took out a new piece of parchment and wrote the title neatly.

The first paragraph cited public literature, stating that Spatial Folding would shorten path perception but had not been proven to change the objective flow of time.

The second paragraph cited Travel Spell accidents, explaining that the caster's subjective delay came from magic reflux and dizziness.

The door knocker joined in the fun, "Add a sentence: Students are best off sleeping, and Professors are best off shutting up."

"Delete it." Allen Potter didn't look up.

When he wrote the third paragraph, the fountain pen paused. The real key was the contact between the spatial boundary and the time crease, which would produce local scale deviations. The training with the cracked pocket watch had already verified this, and the knut experiment had also verified multiple disappearances and reappearances within three seconds. But these could not go into the essay.

So, at the point of public derivation, he wrote "Questionable." The reason was simple: existing literature failed to rule out the interference of the caster's magic turbulence on the observation results.

The family crest finished reading the draft, "Safe. Too conservative."

"Snape likes conservative answers." The door knocker chimed in, "It makes it easier for him to scold."

Allen Potter lowered the tone of the ending. There was no consensus on the relationship between Spatial Folding and the flow of time; lower-year students should not conduct experiments, especially not involving high-risk magic items without supervision.

Peter Pettigrew heard the last sentence and almost laughed out loud, "Are you writing this for yourself to read?"

Allen Potter blew the parchment dry, "Writing it for him to read."

The letter was sent off via a normal owl. Allen Potter did not use Spatial Displacement; the three-day zeroing of the Wizard with the round hat still needed to maintain its aftermath.

The Order of the Phoenix observer was also changing shifts at the street corner; after the hunched old Wizard left, a Witch wearing an old scarf replaced him.

Three days later, Snape's reply arrived faster than expected. As soon as the envelope landed on the windowsill, the door knocker started cursing: "Is he sleeping in the owlery? His replies are faster than debt collectors."

Allen Potter opened the letter. Inside was only one sentence, written in red ink in the center of the parchment. "Is 'Questionable' because you really don't know, or because you don't want to write it?"

The study fell silent. Peter Pettigrew stretched his neck to read it, then immediately pulled it back, "Don't reply. Play dead. You're best at sleeping, so playing dead is reasonable."

The door knocker agreed, "Right, write that you fell asleep. If the Professor asks again, just say you don't know in your dreams."

Allen Potter picked up the smallest piece of reply paper and wrote only three words. "Really don't know."

The family crest was silent for a few breaths, "Too short, high probability of provocation."

"Short makes it look like a student." Allen Potter sealed the letter, "Writing it long makes it look like an excuse."

The door knocker muttered, "You can make people angry just by writing three words; this ability should be on your report card."

After the owl flew away, Snape did not reply immediately. Within two days, the Wizard with the round hat did not appear either.

The surveillance net outside the old house was annoyingly stable, but the letters about the Quidditch World Cup were getting denser. Draco Malfoy complained about etiquette classes again, Zabini mentioned the Ministry of Magic's temporary tent registration, and Nott said someone at home received a security inquiry from the Ministry regarding the tournament.

Allen Potter filed these letters. The Snape line went on the left, the Quidditch World Cup line on the right, and the Department of Mysteries line was pressed in the middle. The three lines did not intersect, but they were all approaching the same end of summer, approaching an occasion that would force the Ministry of Magic to show its face to everyone.

On the evening of the fifth day, Snape's new letter arrived. The door knocker didn't curse this time; it looked at Allen Potter's left hand first, then at the envelope, "Don't tell me he changed the topic again."

Allen Potter opened the letter. The red ink was still pressed very heavily.

"Next essay topic: Known types of soul protection mechanisms. Fifteen inches. Cite public literature; do not involve legends or stories. Due in two weeks."

Peter Pettigrew saw the topic, and his face went pale, "He changed his knife. Dementors, Boggarts, the Killing Curse, the silver light of the Chamber of Secrets—he's connected them all. He wants to investigate why you have no scent, why you can't die."

The tip of the Void tail pressed against the ebony box, and silver pupils turned toward Allen Potter's chest. It had been hit by the Killing Curse there; the outer robe was burned, but the skin was unharmed. Allen Potter himself could only use the interdimensional interlayer to explain the appearance, but the core mechanism was still hidden deeper by the laws.

"Public literature." Allen Potter flattened the topic, "Occlumency, Patronus Charm, blood protection, amulets, ancient vows, Horcrux contamination counter-examples."

The door knocker interjected: "Don't write about yourself."

"Of course." Allen Potter picked up his pen and wrote the first line on the edge of the draft, "Public types of soul protection mostly rely on rituals, bloodlines, beliefs, or external objects. Individual innate protection lacks verification samples; Questionable."

The family crest reminded him, "Using 'Questionable' consecutively might trigger follow-up questions."

"Let him chase public questions." Allen Potter put Snape's letter into the thin wall, "If he chases Horcruxes, I'll give him a report on the diary remains. If he chases Dementors, I'll give him a thermal insulation essay. If he chases the Killing Curse, I'll sleep."

Peter Pettigrew said dryly: "The old bat won't believe it."

"He doesn't need to believe." Allen Potter looked out the window, "He just needs to have no evidence."

The door knocker lowered its voice, "Dumbledore will also see this question."

"Better." Allen Potter dipped his quill in ink, "Let them both read the same half-answer. When people are staring at the same piece of paper, their hands will stay a little further away from the door."

At night, the light in the study was on as usual. A fake shadow sat at the desk, while the real body wrote the essay. Outside, the Order of the Phoenix observer changed shifts, and the Wizard with the round hat from the Department of Mysteries had still not returned to the street corner. Inside the Portable Space, Peter Pettigrew lay by the cage writing old news about Crouch, the Void guarded the ebony box, and the gold thread of the cracked pocket watch quietly pressed across the center line.

Allen Potter wrote three sentences under the Snape file. The Spatial Folding question had been evaded with public literature. Snape confirmed that his probing was blocked and turned to soul protection mechanisms. The next essay needed to provide enough knowledge to hold the knife edge, while avoiding the core.

After reading it, the door knocker huffed, "You write letters dirtier than you fight."

Allen Potter sealed the paper into the thin wall, "Paper is safer."

The door knocker didn't argue. The sound of a Muggle car passing by came from the street corner, and the headlights swept across the crack in the curtains and then left. On the desk, Snape's new topic was pressed on top, like a hand reaching out from the dungeons, determined to dig the answer out of Allen Potter's throat even across the summer vacation.

Allen Potter picked up his pen and wrote the title.

Known types of soul protection mechanisms.