The Dwarven Ring was far too dangerous to touch directly, so Sylas imdiately took out a mithril lockbox, placed the ring inside, and sealed it with multiple layers of protective enchantnts. Only then did he turn his attention back to Amon.
"Mr. Amon," Sylas said, voice calm but sharp, "where did you get this ring? Or who gave it to you?
And the vial, who told you to put it into the food?"
Under that piercing stare, Amon felt as though every secret in his heart had been laid bare.
His shoulders trembled. Tears stread freely down his cheeks. Fear, confusion, and lingering dread filled his eyes.
"I… I don't rember who gave it to …" he whispered shakily. "It was probably a classmate from my house. I can't rember his face at all… but he said sothing to , and then my head went dizzy, and I just… wanted to obey him…"
Amon hugged himself, trembling harder.
"He put the ring on my finger… and gave the black dicine bottle… told to sneak into the kitchen and poison the food and drinks. But Headmaster, your rule says no student can go alone, so I convinced my two roommates to sneak in with to get so food. People in our house do that when they miss als, so they didn't suspect anything."
His voice broke.
"I didn't want to hurt anyone. I swear I didn't… That's why I stunned them first… sob… sob… Please, Headmaster, please don't expel ! I'll accept any punishnt, just don't expel …"
His despair was so raw that even Gandalf and Galadriel felt a pang of sympathy.
Sylas used Legilincy, confirming every word was the truth.
Gandalf and Galadriel, with their ancient wisdom, could see it as well.
The three exchanged grave glances.
Looking at Amon, terrified, ashad, desperate not to be thrown out, Sylas placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Mr. Amon, calm down. No one is going to expel you. You were controlled by the ring's influence. Even seasoned wizards would struggle to resist its corruption, you were not at fault."
Then Sylas turned to Amon's two stunned roommates.
"I believe you won't bla him… will you?"
The boys shook their heads quickly. They had heard everything. Knowing Amon had been manipulated by dark magic, they felt only pity, not bla.
"Good," Sylas said gently. "Please take Amon to the school infirmary. Madam Amanda will treat him. And…" his gaze sharpened again, "keep this matter secret. Understood?"
The boys nodded at once and helped their shaken friend toward the infirmary.
Although Sylas had healed the surface bruise left by Peeves's enthusiastic blow, the brain was delicate, and Amon needed a proper dical examination.
More troubling was the spiritual corruption left behind by prolonged contact with the Dwarven Ring.
That kind of damage could not be fixed overnight.
It might even require Elrond, the greatest healer in Middle-earth, to purge the lingering taint completely.
But right now, there was one priority above all:
Saruman was sowhere among the students.
A cold, simring fury rose in Sylas. If Peeves hadn't caught Amon in ti, if the food truly had been poisoned with the Black Death Plague, It would have been a catastrophe beyond imagination.
Hundreds infected. Chaos throughout the school.
And Saruman free to strike in the confusion.
Sylas imdiately issued orders: all students back to their dormitories, all professors to guard their houses, no one wandering alone.
Then he, Gandalf, and Galadriel swept out of the kitchen and made straight for the Dragon House common room.
When Sylas arrived at the Dragon House common room, all fifty-odd students were gathered, all except Amon, who was still in the infirmary.
Dozens of young faces stared back at him in confusion, curiosity, and a hint of fear.
Sylas didn't waste ti on explanations.
With a sweep of his wand, a curtain of white light spread out, and he began scanning each student one by one, reading their emotions, their magical aura, and, where necessary, their thoughts.
Under the bright holy glow, the students obediently ford a line, whispering nervously as the inspection progressed.
Everything was normal.
Until it wasn't.
When it was the turn of a first-year witch near the back of the line, the white light around Sylas suddenly hissed, dark mist seeped from her body like black smoke reacting to the holy aura.
Gasps erupted throughout the room.
The girl herself froze, staring at the rising smoke in horrified confusion.
Sylas, Gandalf, and Galadriel exchanged grim looks.
This child had clearly touched the Dwarven Ring. The corruption left behind was unmistakable.
But one thing was equally obvious:
She was not Saruman.
Saruman had used her, manipulated her, forced her to handle the ring or deliver the plague vial… while he stayed hidden in the shadows, leaving nothing of himself behind.
After instructing Headmistress to escort the girl to the infirmary, Sylas moved on to inspect the other three houses.
And what he found filled him with a cold, simring fury:
Not Saruman.
But more children, from different houses, each carrying a faint stain of the ring's corruption.
Children who had unknowingly brushed their fingers against the Dwarven Ring. Children whose thoughts had begun to warp, their wills subtly bent.
Children from his territory.
If Sylas hadn't initiated this ergency inspection, they could have slowly twisted into dark wizards without even knowing why.
His jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
"What exactly are you planning, Saruman?!"
Sylas roared internally, grinding his teeth.
Saruman had crossed every line imaginable.
If he stood before Sylas now, Sylas would have gladly unleashed the strongest Cruciatus Curse he could muster.
Gandalf and Galadriel shared his anger.
Children, innocent children, used as pawns. Their forr brother-in-arms had sunk to a depth even they struggled to imagine.
All corrupted students were imdiately sent to the infirmary.
Healer Amanda, seeing the frightened children, was furious, muttering curses under her breath while tending to their spiritual and magical injuries.
Sylas, Gandalf, and Galadriel worked together, using cleansing magic to purge the dark remnants clinging to the students.
But Amon's case… was different.
Prolonged contact with the Dwarven Ring had corroded his mind deeply, and even Galadriel, wielding the power of the Ring of Water, could only cleanse the surface.
The deeper scars remained.
They needed soone else.
Elrond.
Sylas imdiately contacted his father-in-law, carefully avoiding Arwen so she wouldn't worry, and summoned him to Hogwarts.
Elrond arrived swiftly.
His eyes tightened the mont he saw the corrupted students.
And when he learned that Saruman was the one behind it, even the gentle Lord of Rivendell showed a flash of cold fury.
With the power of the Ring of Air, Vilya, Elrond placed his hands upon each child.
Blue light surged like a cleansing wind.
Under his healing, the twisted imprints left by the Dwarven Ring unraveled, the ntal corrosion dissipating, their spirits slowly stabilizing.
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