169: Constellation Society Gathering and Stars

The Secret Chamber of the Constellation Society.

John picked up an apple, took a bite, and placed it on the table.

Extending his left hand, a golden magical ring appeared, resembling the branching patterns of a tree on the Gate of Objects.

The magical ring encircled the apple.

With a gentle twist of John's hand, the apple that had been bitten into grew back to its original form.

"Reversion, huh? This is quite interesting."

John stared at the reversion effect. This ability consumed the golden sand within his body.

Each reversion consumed half of it, meaning John could only use it twice in a single day.

By the next day, the golden sand would regenerate and emerge from the golden mark.

This enhancement was incredibly practical. If used correctly, it could be considered a divine artifact.

Lowering his gaze to his right hand, he noticed the black mark emanating an aura of malevolence.

He opened his hand, and black threads extended from his fingers, wrapping around the apple.

Before long, the apple withered rapidly, crumbling into dust.

It was reminiscent of the Soul-Devouring Curse from before, except this time, there was no trace of Ekrizdis' consciousness.

"Golden time, black soul."

Two types of magic were now etched into John's body. He withdrew the Soul-Devouring Curse.

On the table lay a finely crafted hourglass.

Unfortunately, there was a crack on the hourglass, causing all the sand within to vanish.

"A machine capable of manipulating time, and Dumbledore handed it to a student?"

John fell into thought. Was this because of the protagonist group's plot armor?

He had every reason to suspect that the many Hermiones he had seen on the map previously were the result of this very machine.

Yet, he felt a tinge of dissatisfaction—apparently, Dumbledore didn't find him trustworthy enough.

An idea formed in his mind: he could use the power of reversion to repair the hourglass. This way, he would essentially possess a device capable of controlling time.

However, he needed to ensure that Dumbledore was aware the hourglass was broken first. Otherwise, if he repaired it and Dumbledore took it back, it would all be for nothing.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, members of the Constellation Society began to trickle into the chamber.

John was the person who spent the most time in the Constellation Society's secret chamber. With the holidays approaching in a few days, the other members had arrived of their own accord.

Upon entering, they didn't disturb John and instead took their seats at the round table.

Sitting closest to John was Heinrich, who took the seat to his left. Beside Heinrich sat Daphne.

To John's right, the seat was empty. Further to the right sat Cedric, followed by Neville.

When Malfoy arrived, his lack of tact was on full display. He tried to take the empty seat to John's right, only to be forced into sitting next to Daphne by the sheer intensity of Heinrich's glare.

Percy arrived late as usual and naturally took the empty seat to John's right.

Unbeknownst to them, the members had already silently established their seating hierarchy.

John snapped out of his thoughts as Percy apologized, "Sorry, I've been swamped with things."

As the Head Boy and a soon-to-be graduate, Percy had a lot on his plate.

John nodded in acknowledgment. Percy glanced at the hourglass, his usually stiff expression betraying a hint of surprise as he asked, "A Time-Turner?"

"You recognize it?" John looked at Percy. Startled, Percy replied, "Isn't this yours? Any student taking twelve subjects is eligible to get one."

"This was something Professor Dumbledore applied for from the Department of Mysteries."

In Percy's mind, John, as one of the top students and someone taking twelve courses, naturally deserved to have a Time-Turner.

Hearing this, John's face darkened. So, the clown was himself all along.

It was one thing for the protagonist group to have one, but Percy too?

Was it just because he wasn't a Gryffindor that he wasn't deemed worthy?

Taking a deep breath, John suppressed his annoyance.

Right now, he was living under someone else's roof. Dumbledore likely had his reasons for not entrusting him with one.

Looking at the nearly full seats around the table, John calmed his emotions and smiled. "I'm very glad that everyone has come together here in the Constellation Society. A lot has happened this year, and it has made us more united than ever."

"Neville, I'm genuinely impressed by your discipline. Your transformation has truly surprised me."

He glanced at Neville, who was on the verge of becoming a fitness coach.

It had to be said—swordmaster talent really hit differently. Those arms were growing bulkier day by day. If it weren't for Neville's face, John might not have recognized him anymore.

At this rate, if Neville kept training, forget being a swordmaster—he might just become a boxing king, capable of tearing Death Eaters apart with his bare hands.

"A..haha.. thanks.."

Neville, flustered by the compliment, scratched his head awkwardly.

John turned his gaze to Cedric. Lately, this big-hearted boy had showcased a charm that transcended both Slytherin and Gryffindor stereotypes.

Even the usually standoffish Heinrich had taken a liking to Cedric, which left John feeling very satisfied with his own eye for recruiting members into the team.

As for Malfoy, he had gone from "skinny in clothes" to "muscular without."

Beneath his unassuming robe lay a set of eight-pack abs capable of withstanding some serious hits. Oh, and his platinum blond hair was still intact.

Daphne, a combination of bookworm and enchantment queen, handled spells with effortless mastery—but her cooking was a complete descent into darkness.

Heinrich remained second in power only to John himself.

And Percy was about to head to the Ministry of Magic as an assistant to Bartemius Crouch, a key figure for John's future cultivation of connections within the Ministry.

The Constellation Society's network was already beginning to take shape, and John felt deeply gratified.

In front of everyone, a golden goblet appeared. John gently tapped his own goblet.

Above the dome, starlight cascaded down into the goblets.

A sweet aroma wafted from the golden cups as they filled with a golden, fragrant liquid.

John raised his goblet. "To the Constellation Society."

The others followed suit, raising their glasses. Percy hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, but upon seeing the joyful expressions around him and catching the scent of what was definitely not pumpkin juice, he decided against citing the school rules.

One sip in, Neville's face flushed bright red, and Malfoy burst into laughter before taking a single step and promptly collapsing.

Heinrich remained stoic as ever, while Daphne gazed at John with a dreamy smile plastered across her face.

Cedric and Percy exchanged glances, bewildered. Seven people in total, and three were already down after just one drink.

The drink was indeed extraordinary. After consuming it, a pleasant sensation filled them, along with a small boost in magical power.

Cedric and Percy looked at each other again, this time noticing the astonishment reflected in each other's faces.

"This drink doesn't have a name yet. How about we call it 'Constellation'?"

John, lacking a sense of taste, didn't feel much after drinking it.

The drink was actually created from the surplus magical energy stored in the Constellation Society. Every drop of the golden liquid contained pure magical essence, making it immensely beneficial to consume.

Cedric tended to the flushed and tipsy Neville, while Heinrich calmly subdued Malfoy, pinning him to the ground with ease.

Daphne didn't need any special attention; she was simply sitting there, letting out occasional silly giggles. The dignified image of the "young lady" she usually maintained had completely collapsed!

John pulled a ring from his pocket—a spellcaster's ring set with a magic crystal. "Once you start working with Bartemius Crouch, you'll become his assistant."

"John, does this have something to do with you?" Percy asked, fixing his gaze on John as he voiced his suspicion.

John didn't hide it and nodded. "Yes, it does."

"You…" Percy hesitated, then asked gravely, "I know I probably shouldn't ask, but how exactly did you get involved with the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation?"

"Ah, naturally, through certain means," John replied with a mysterious smile. "Once you become Crouch's assistant, you'll see the real me."

Percy frowned instinctively at John's words, a habitual expression of his. Noticing this, John paused mid-sip and looked at Percy intently. "Percy, you can be modest, but never humble. Remember, you are a member of the Constellation Society. Your posture should not be one of groveling."

John's comment was prompted by observing Percy's habitual slight stoop when dealing with authority figures.

It was likely a result of Percy's deeply ingrained sense of hierarchy, but John calmly added, "Humility doesn't make people remember you. Your brilliance should never be hidden."

Percy lowered his gaze, as if lost in thought.

The gathering of the Constellation Society continued into the evening.

Even Percy, who normally followed the rules so strictly, didn't dampen the atmosphere. They had only had one drink each, but it was enough to make everyone highly energetic.

By the end of the night, Neville and Malfoy had gotten into a fight—Malfoy refused to accept being ranked behind Neville.

One of them had astonishing arm strength, while the other had incredible resilience to blows.

When the two wizards fought, they somehow shared an unspoken agreement not to use their wands.

The final outcome was Neville sitting squarely on top of Malfoy, declaring his victory.

Both of them were thoroughly drunk, and when they returned to their dorms, it left others wildly speculating about what had happened.

In Gryffindor, a rumor spread that Neville had gone out and fought a troll, leaving it battered and bruised. If this had been said back in their first year, everyone would have burst into laughter.

But now, seeing Neville's arms, which had begun to resemble tree trunks, the story seemed oddly believable.

Over in Slytherin, the rumor was even more absurd—someone started saying that Malfoy had spent the night with a banshee.

As expected, the person who started this rumor became the target of a full-blown manhunt organized by Malfoy himself across the entire school.

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