59: Chapter 59 The Backlash of the Spatial Laws

The bell for Transfiguration Class had just stopped ringing when McGonagall placed a beetle on the podium, demanding they continue practicing living creature transformation.

Draco turned his head to look at Allen.

"Are you awake?"

Allen propped himself up with his quill, answering a beat too late.

"I heard."

Crabbe leaned over.

"You didn't sleep again last night."

Draco shot him a glare.

"Of course he slept last night; we all saw it."

Goyle added, "He slept quite peacefully, too."

Allen put down his quill.

"Stop discussing my sleep."

McGonagall had already walked down from the podium.

"Mr. Potter, where is your button?"

Allen raised his wand and pointed it at the beetle on the table.

The shell of the beetle had hardened, but its body had only transformed halfway; half was a button, while the other half was still a bug leg, twitching.

McGonagall stopped in front of the table.

"This is not your usual standard."

Draco spoke up to cover for him.

"Professor, he didn't eat much this morning, and his schedule has been erratic."

McGonagall swept a glance at him.

"Mr. Malfoy, I did not ask you."

Draco shut his mouth.

Allen lowered his wand.

"Sorry, Professor."

"Try again."

Allen raised his wand again; the blackthorn wand in his fingers felt heavy.

Deep within the Portable Space, the cage beside the ebony box was draining magic.

Peter Pettigrew was pressed against the transparent wall, mouth open, yet unable to make a sound.

The Void coiled outside the box, its tail tip tapping against the stone surface.

Allen spoke in his consciousness.

"Don't let him touch the boundary."

Peter Pettigrew slapped the cage, his face full of panic.

Allen flicked his wrist, and the beetle on the table was completely ruined.

Hermione, in the front row, turned back to look.

Ron muttered under his breath.

"He's worse than Neville today."

Harry nudged him.

"Stop talking."

McGonagall turned around, her gaze sweeping over them.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, if you have time to judge others, you might as well look at your own beetles."

Ron honestly lowered his head.

Draco gritted his teeth and lowered his voice to ask Allen.

"What exactly is going on with you?"

"Sleepy."

"You're usually sleepy, but not to this extent."

Allen scooped the failed half-button into his palm.

"I'm sleepier today."

"Go to the Hospital Wing."

"No."

Draco pushed the textbook over.

"Then follow the book."

Allen didn't answer.

The quill slipped from his fingers, and ink bloomed on the parchment.

The next moment, he was slumped over the table, breathing steadily, having fallen straight asleep.

Crabbe's eyes widened.

"He really fell asleep."

Goyle watched McGonagall walking over.

"The Professor is coming."

Draco stood his book up, shielding half of Allen's face.

"Shut up and transform your beetle."

McGonagall stopped by the table.

"Mr. Malfoy, what are you shielding?"

Draco put the book down.

"Professor, I'm looking at the steps."

McGonagall looked at Allen.

"Mr. Potter."

Allen didn't respond.

The classroom suddenly went quiet.

Hermione gripped her wand, Harry didn't make a sound, and Ron opened his mouth, then closed it again.

McGonagall walked over to Allen's side.

"Mr. Potter, the classroom is not a place for sleeping."

Draco still interjected.

"Professor, he might be feeling unwell."

McGonagall looked at him.

"I have said, do not answer for others."

She tested Allen's forehead.

"No fever."

Hermione couldn't help but speak up.

"Professor, perhaps it's excessive magical exhaustion."

"Miss Granger, thank you for the reminder; now, please complete the exercise."

Hermione lowered her head and complied.

McGonagall withdrew her hand and announced directly.

"Mr. Potter is sleeping in class; five points from Slytherin."

Draco looked up.

"Professor!"

"Mr. Malfoy, do you also want to lose five points?"

Draco swallowed his words.

McGonagall looked at Crabbe and Goyle again.

"You two support him for now; if he doesn't wake up after class, take him to the Hospital Wing."

"Understood, Professor."

Allen's consciousness had long since sunk deep into the Portable Space.

Inside the cage, Peter Pettigrew clutched his throat, nodding desperately.

Allen's projection landed above the ebony box.

"You're bothering me."

Peter Pettigrew was finally granted a sliver of voice and immediately begged for mercy.

"I'll be obedient; don't let this thing drain me again."

Allen looked at the edge of the cage.

"You are alive; you need air, water, and food, and the space also consumes energy to maintain you."

Peter Pettigrew hurried to say.

"I can eat less, and I can turn back into a rat; the consumption will be lower."

"Transformation is more troublesome."

"Then what do you want?"

Allen raised his hand, and several thin threads emerged from the boundary of the space, connecting to the cage, the ebony box, and the seal on the outside of the cracked pocket watch.

"Hand over your excess magic."

Peter Pettigrew's expression changed instantly.

"That won't do; an Animagus cannot have magic drained recklessly; it will cause problems."

"Then don't let there be problems."

Peter Pettigrew backed away, his mouth still running.

"I'm still useful; I know the list, I know about the past events, the Rosier family has old debts, the Malfoy Family isn't that clean either, and the Nott family is even less simple."

Allen only replied with one sentence.

"You are stalling."

The Void's tail tip fell, and the inner wall of the cage tightened by half an inch.

Peter Pettigrew immediately shut his mouth.

In the space at this moment, only his heavy panting remained; the ebony box sat quietly to one side, the cracked pocket watch was sealed in a faint blue glimmer, and the silver-eyed Black snake coiled beside the box, staring at the new prisoner as if looking at a piece of meat to be carved up sooner or later.

Allen raised his hand, connecting the first loop to the bottom of the cage.

Peter Pettigrew's shoulders shrank, and the voice squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Stop, Allen, I'll die."

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

"I've calculated it."

Peter Pettigrew looked up, his face pale.

"You're only eleven."

"You've said that before."

Allen continued to drop the threads.

"Say something useful."

Peter Pettigrew hurriedly spoke.

"Black didn't betray the Potter Family; I was the Secret-Keeper, Remus doesn't know about this yet, and if Sirius gets out, I'm the first one he'll look for."

Allen paused for half a beat.

"Continue."

Peter Pettigrew panted.

"He knows what I'm afraid of; he'll go to the Weasley Family, and he'll go to Hogwarts."

"Enough."

Peter Pettigrew looked up.

"If it's enough, then let me go."

"Enough to pay for today's consumption."

The second loop fell.

The magic inside Peter Pettigrew was forcibly extracted, flowing along the bottom of the cage into the boundary of the space.

The mist dissipated.

The patterns beside the ebony box stabilized.

The blue light of the cracked pocket watch was also pressed back into the box.

Peter Pettigrew hunched over, his voice hoarse.

"You will drain me dry."

"No, you're useless if you're drained dry."

"You're better at calculating than a Death Eater."

"Thank you."

Peter Pettigrew cursed under his breath.

The Void raised its head.

Peter Pettigrew immediately changed his tune.

"I didn't curse you."

Allen looked at him.

"From now on, hand over a portion of magic every day."

"I can't hold up."

"You can eat more."

"Eat what?"

"Things a rat can eat."

Peter Pettigrew's expression became even uglier.

"I am a Wizard."

"You were a rat for twelve years."

Outside, the bell rang for the end of class.

Draco nudged Allen.

"Potter, class is over."

He didn't wake up.

Crabbe was a bit hesitant.

"Should we really send him to the Hospital Wing?"

Goyle whispered.

"If we send him there, Snape will know, and Dumbledore might know too."

Draco had already packed Allen's books into the bag.

"Take him back to the Dungeon first; I'll go talk to the Professor."

He walked to McGonagall, standing straight.

"Professor, I'll take him back to the Slytherin Common Room first; if he hasn't woken up by dinner, I will personally take him to Madam Pomfrey."

McGonagall looked at him for a while.

"Can you take responsibility?"

"Yes."

"If he misses class this afternoon, you must let Professor Snape know; also, the point deduction will not be cancelled."

"I understand."

Ron muttered under his breath as he passed by.

"It's truly rare for Slytherin to lose points."

Draco turned his head and retorted immediately.

"Weasley, if you say one more word, I'll tell your brother that you brought a rat into Transfiguration Class."

Ron touched his pocket and stayed silent.

Hermione glanced at Allen.

"Is he really okay?"

"Don't trouble yourself."

Harry stood at the doorway and also spoke up.

"If you need help..."

"Not needed."

In the space, Peter Pettigrew was still clutching the edge of the cage.

"Wait, you haven't released my voice yet; I still need to tell you the list."

Allen looked at him one last time.

"Wait until you learn to talk less nonsense."

The voice was cut off again.

The Void coiled back beside the ebony box, its tail tip pressing down on the parchment with 'Peter Pettigrew' written on it.

By the time Allen opened his eyes again, he had already been supported out of the classroom by Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Draco looked down at him.

"Awake."

"Mm."

"You had better explain."

Allen steadied himself and took back his bag.

"Didn't sleep well."

Draco's temple throbbed.

"McGonagall took five points, and I even vouched for you; if you didn't wake up before dinner, I was going to send you to the Hospital Wing."

Allen raised his eyes to look at the end of the corridor.

"Then I woke up just in time."

Crabbe asked curiously.

"What did you dream about just now?"

"A rat."

Goyle chimed in seriously.

"The one Ron has."

Draco immediately shot them a glare.

"Shut up."

Allen carried his bag and walked forward.

"Back to the Dungeon."

Draco followed, his tone stiff.

"If you sleep like this again, I'll have Crabbe and Goyle watch you eat."

"I can handle that."

"I can too."

Allen didn't even look back.

"Watch your own plates first."

Inside the Portable Space, the cage stabilized again.

Peter Pettigrew leaned against the transparent wall, mouth opening soundlessly.

The patterns beside the ebony box dimmed bit by bit.

The new magical loop was connected.