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Heroes: The Cancer of the Multiverse
Chapter 47: Happy Tree Friends

Chapter 47: Happy Tree Friends

Atlas lay in his bed, his mind racing as he searched for any flaws in his theory. He couldn't bear to accept the possibility that the hero, whether it was Ethan or Amy, could be aiding Voldemort. Perhaps the term "hero" had clouded his judgment, preventing him from considering the idea that the hero might align with the Dark Lord. However, another unsettling thought suddenly gripped him, sending a chill down his spine. If the hero was bold enough to contact Voldemort, he would surely take precautions. This could only mean one of two things: either they possessed some form of leverage over Voldemort, similar to Atlas's himself, or he was confident enough to defeat Voldemort. The latter possibility shook Atlas to his core, for if the hero could best Voldemort, then Atlas's mission was already doomed. While the idea of convincing both Voldemort and Dumbledore to join forces to kill the hero held a glimmer of hope, the chances of such an unlikely alliance were practically nonexistent. A flicker of inspiration sparked within Atlas as a new thought materialized. What if he were to free Grindelwald and persuade Dumbledore to unite with the former Dark Wizard against Voldemort and the Hero? However, he couldn't help but ponder how he could convince these two to eliminate someone whom Dumbledore would argue was just a child. Reflecting on the major players in this magical universe, Atlas realized that Dumbledore had not undergone any significant changes. Though he may have taken different actions, most of them could be attributed to his and the hero's interventions. It seemed likely that Dumbledore remained unaware of the true nature of Quirrell's possession and viewed him simply as a severely weakened Voldemort, a means to confirm his theories regarding Harry's protection from his mother's sacrifice.

As Atlas lay there, pondering his options, he toyed with the idea of sending Dumbledore a secret message, creating a safety net in case his plan faltered. But a sense of caution washed over him, and he realized he might be rushing into decisions without solid proof of Voldemort's alliance with the hero. It wouldn't be wise to complicate his plan with unnecessary variables until he knew more about their relationship. Instead, he focused on determining who was more likely to be the hero.

While he knew that Amy definitely knew about the Room of Requirements and was an exceptional wizard, Ethan was equally or even more amazing than her. The fact that both of them had been invited by Voldemort for a career talk was intriguing, especially considering Ethan had been invited more than once. While this observation didn't constitute proof, it added weight to the possibility of Ethan being the hero, at least in Atlas's eyes.

After his realization that the hero could be evil, he dismissed his argument that the hero was more likely to get the person he liked, which would have increased the likelihood of Ethan being the hero even more. On the other hand, Atlas was aware that Ethan's parents had been slain by Death Eaters, a fact that significantly diminished the likelihood of Ethan siding with Voldemort if the hero were indeed collaborating with him. Atlas couldn't fathom Ethan being the kind of person who would overlook such a tragic event and ally himself with those responsible for his parents' murder.

Frustration gnawed at him as he failed to reach a definitive conclusion. It became clear to Atlas that he absolutely needed to confirm the hero's true identity, leaving him no choice but to find some absurd pretext to separate them and engineer a learning experience. He surmised that it would be easier to isolate Ethan from the group than Amy, since the latter would never abandon Ethan when he was surrounded by a group of women unless it was over her dead body.

Atlas let out a weary sigh, accepting the fact that he would have to engage in an uncomfortable conversation with Ethan unless he stumbled upon a better topic than to address the tension that had arisen since he started dating Hermione. However, this would have to wait for at least a week, as he had no time the following day due to his commitments with the researchers. Moreover, Professor Ward's obligatory group activities would resume for the next five days. On top of it all, he needed to verify if Voldemort would deliver the things he had requested while avoiding detection.

As the sun began to rise, Atlas' stomach growled, a reminder of his hunger. Yet he knew he had to wait a few more hours until the tests concluded before he could finally satiate his appetite. Exhausted, he realized that sleep had eluded him once again.

As the morning sun gently filtered through the curtains, Atlas indulged in some light reading while still tucked cozily in his bed. His peaceful moment was interrupted by the familiar sound of his alarm, signaling the start of another day at Hogwarts. However, today was different—breakfast was skipped due to the impending experiments. Fortunately, Hermione, being the caring and supportive girlfriend she was, decided to stay with him in the common room to offer her moral support. She even approached Professor McGonagall the day before to arrange for something to be prepared for Atlas after the tests—a thoughtful gesture that he deeply appreciated.

Despite Hermione's efforts to uplift his spirits, Atlas couldn't shake off the exhaustion from a sleepless night and the pangs of hunger gnawing at him. As a result, his attempts at studying were futile, and even Hermione's comical transfiguration of her rubber into a small pigeon, which then sang the words he had erased from his notes, failed to cheer him up. Perhaps it was because the transfiguration itself was imperfect, producing an ear-piercing cacophony, or maybe the songbird was hilariously chirping the wrong potion formulas—either way, it couldn't quite bring a smile to his face as he was still tired. However, a silver lining emerged as the absurdity of the situation led to a playful game of sending each other messages through this peculiar and whimsical transfiguration technique.

With playful banter and inside jokes about the rubberbird's woeful imitation of Snape's infamous speech on wand usage in his lessons, Atlas found solace in laughter, relieving some of the stress that had accumulated while he pondered his intricate plans the night before.

Finally, the time came to meet Professor McGonagall, who greeted them with a warm smile. Much to their surprise, she didn't lead them to the usual auditorium, as they had expected. Instead, they were guided outside the castle, where they were met with a bustling scene near the great lake. A fleet of boats floated gently on the water, and numerous researchers and faculty had gathered.

With a nod from Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall ushered everyone into the small boats, which started moving on their own accord. Surprisingly, Dumbledore himself boarded the same boat as Hermione, Professor McGonagall, and him, creating a tense atmosphere.

The headmaster, his eyes twinkling with warmth and wisdom, turned to Atlas, assuming the role of a caring grandfather. He inquired about Atlas's well-being, offering a small tin of lemon drops as a gesture of comfort. For a brief moment, Atlas wondered if Dumbledore intended to probe his mind with legilimency, but no such intrusion occurred. After a polite response, Atlas declined the lemon drops, mindful of the upcoming test. Dumbledore then engaged Professor McGonagall in conversation and handed her a letter, their voices carrying an air of importance.

As the boats neared their destination, Atlas could make out a small island ahead, its presence indicated by the already docked boats. Just before they arrived, Professor McGonagall turned to Dumbledore and asked if he knew of a way to change his mind. The headmaster responded cryptically, hinting at the necessity of proper motivation for such persuasion.

Atlas and Hermione hung on every word that came from Dumbledore's lips. Even though Hermione may not have shared the same vested interest in understanding the situation at Hogwarts, the fact that Dumbledore was speaking made it interesting enough to capture her attention.

The boats finally reached the small island, revealing a sight that captured everyone's attention. In the center stood a medium-sized tree, emanating an aura of mystery. The group of magizoologists stood at the island's edge, maintaining a cautious distance from the tree and its hidden inhabitants.

Suddenly, Newt Scamander silently appeared beside Atlas, his presence calming and reassuring. He explained that they had arrived at Bowtruckle Island, where a branch, or rather a group, of Bowtruckles resided—although they were currently in hiding. Newt then raised his wand, skillfully tracing a small white line that encircled the researchers, avoiding getting too close to the tree. Recognizing the spell, Atlas realized it was a silencio barrier—an enchantment he only recognized because he had used it countless times.

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Newt, ever the charismatic and knowledgeable guide when it came to magical creatures, began to explain the unique nature of the day's tests, setting a tone of excitement and anticipation. He emphasized that today's experiments would incorporate social interactions, adding an intriguing twist to their research. With a gleam in his eye, he delved into the fascinating world of Bowtruckles.

"There is something quite special about this particular Bowtruckle branch," Newt began, his voice laced with enthusiasm. "It consists of 39 individuals, making it the second-largest branch ever documented. With that size, their society is much more developed than branches with just ten to twenty individuals. Today, we will have the opportunity to interact with these extraordinary creatures and observe their behaviors up close."

With each word, Newt's passion for magical creatures became more evident. He embarked on an engaging monologue about the intricate dynamics of Bowtruckle communities and his observations of this particular branch. He also elaborated on the fact that bowtruckles from different branches had difficulty mixing with each other and that his attempts to integrate a bowtruckle whose branch was destroyed had failed catastrophically. This revelation and yesterday's discoveries prompted the hypothesis that their behavior was tied to their connection with specific trees and the challenges they faced when attempting to engage with Bowtruckles from other Mothertrees.

As Newt wove his captivating narrative, detailing their discoveries from the previous day, a researcher who had previously cautioned Atlas against eating cleared their throat, subtly reminding Newt of his oversight. Apologizing with a warm but embarrassed smile, Newt reassured them that the unfinished experiments from the day before would naturally be concluded before proceeding with the new agenda.

With a gesture, the tall, blond Australian researcher, who had reminded him earlier, cleared the way for his part in the experiment. Swiftly summoning a table adorned with various research tools, he began to set up the equipment. Pulling out a collection of petri dishes from his leather bag, he directed his focus towards Atlas, curiosity shining in his eyes.

"Do tell me, Mr. Graf, have you truly refrained from eating? How are you feeling at this very moment?" inquired the researcher. He was keen to gather firsthand observations from Atlas before proceeding with the experiment. Sensing the researcher's genuine interest, Atlas confirmed his abstinence from food and revealed his current state, including his sleep deprivation.

As soon as Atlas transformed into his Bowtruckle form, an unexpected phenomenon occurred—the hunger that had plagued him vanished. However, he couldn't help but notice a slight sluggishness in his movements, and his leaves drooped slightly. Though he felt a surge of energy originating from photosynthesis in his head leaves, it was akin to sipping a weak cup of coffee or black tea in the dead of night—barely revitalizing.

After ten minutes, he was asked to revert to his human form and describe his sensations. Instantly, the hunger returned, but the drowsiness appeared to have subsided to some extent, at least physically. However, after a mere five minutes, the sleepiness resurfaced, perhaps even more pronounced than before.

The blond researcher then directed Atlas to transform and stand in the first of three petri dishes. As Atlas immersed his feet in the dish, he felt the cool water being absorbed by his roots and gradually making its way through his system. The sensation was refreshing, and coupled with the renewed energy pulsing through his leaves, he felt invigorated. Alas, the euphoria dissipated instantly upon reverting to his human form. His thirst remained unquenched, and his hunger persisted.

The researcher explained that the first petri dish contained only cold water devoid of nutrients, while the second one held a nutrient solution designed to meet the daily requirements for a bowtruckle multiple times over. When Atlas dipped his feet into the second dish, he experienced a rapid decrease in sluggishness as the solution coursed through his system. After half an hour, he felt as agile as the previous day and in high spirits. Returning to his human form, he noticed that while the hunger still lingered and his stomach grumbled, the adverse effects of hunger had considerably lessened.

The subsequent experiment was one Atlas would have gladly skipped, but his desire to comprehend his form pushed him to participate. They asked if he was willing, and reluctantly, he agreed. The experiment involved consuming woodlice—a yellow-greenish liquid with a honey-like texture, primarily consisting of mashed woodlice. Fortunately, as a bowtruckle, he couldn't taste anything, but the mere thought of ingesting mashed woodlice was repulsive.

Upon consuming the first drop, a peculiar sensation washed over him. All worries dissipated, replaced by pure happiness. The colors grew more vibrant, transforming the world around him into a paradise. The researcher spoke, but Atlas struggled to process the words, completely captivated by this state of bliss. A craving for more surged within him, but before he could reach for the still-open bottle of woodlice, the researcher swiftly took it away. Frustration and anger welled up inside him. Why was this researcher selfishly hoarding such a delightful substance? Wasn't he supposed to assist with the research? Why snatch away his hard-earned respite?

The world around Atlas began to spin, colors blending together in a kaleidoscope of swirling hues. It took nearly twenty minutes for his mind to clear. Instinctively, he yearned to transform back into his Bowtruckle form, but it took him five attempts before succeeding.

As the effects instantly dissipated, Atlas recounted his experience to the researchers, who were astounded to discover that woodlice functioned as a hallucinogenic drug for Bowtruckles, inducing a highly addictive state.

But the experiment had shown something else that, while not having value for the researchers, was valuable information for Atlas. His hunger had lessened. It wasn't far away, but even that single drop helped alleviate the hunger he had felt as much as eating a small slice of bread would have done.

Further experiments unveiled fascinating insights into the life of Bowtruckles. Atlas discovered that when he connected to a tree, the sensation was akin to an instantaneous surge of energy, far more potent than the gradual effects of his photosynthesis. It was as if he had ingested a handful of caffeine pills all at once.

The researchers deduced that, much like plants, bowtruckles could thrive without traditional food. While eating was possible, and the recent experiment involving another insect revealed its addictive nature, survival did not depend on regular meals. This peculiar trait seemed to stem from a reward mechanism that evolved over time, encouraging Bowtruckles to eliminate harmful parasites threatening their beloved Mothertree.

Curiously, it was also observed that Bowtruckles didn't require as much sleep as previously assumed. When exposed to sunlight or connected to their mothertree, they could function without extended periods of rest. However, it remained uncertain whether they could exist entirely without sleep.

The following set of social experiments proved to be far less conclusive, leading to a series of unexpected encounters. After a well-deserved break, during which House-elves magically delivered some snacks for Atlas to enjoy, he was assigned the task of approaching the tree and initiating contact with the bowtruckles. The researchers were aware of the bowtruckles' hostility towards other branches, assuming it was due to differing characteristics the bowtruckles would take on after connecting to a tree. However, they had slightly misinterpreted the situation.

To their surprise, the bowtruckles didn't display hostility towards every other branch with incompatible characteristics; rather, they exhibited aggression towards any branch that didn't share their own distinctive traits. A small but important difference, as they would even attack neutral bowtruckles like Atlas. As Atlas approached their tree, the bowtruckles, previously hidden and cautious, brandished their claws like a rowdy gang flaunting their knives. Ignoring these intimidating gestures only escalated their aggression as they attempted to charge at him, forcing Atlas to swiftly transform back to escape their fury.

Under the protests of many researchers, Professor McGonagall stopped the experiments there. Even after some explained that they would probably turn friendly as soon as he showed that he was able to connect with the tree and take on its characteristics.

The researcher who suggested that shrank together as Professor McGonagall answered that he would "probably" survive if she transfigured him into a fish and threw him into the great lake.

One researcher, feeling compelled to defend their cause, timidly suggested that they could provide protection while Atlas underwent the transformation process. Professor McGonagall, however, dismissed the proposal, remarking that even with guards present, another confrontation would likely arise unless Atlas remained on the island until his transformation became permanent—an option he already rejected.

Frustrated by the lack of progress, the researchers decided to shift their focus and conduct experiments involving spirits, including the spirit of the tree on the island. These trials corroborated Professor McGonagall's initial assessment, revealing that the bowtruckles remained hostile even after establishing an initial connection with the tree.

As tensions heightened, one researcher skillfully cast protective spells to fend off another assault, while Newt desperately tried to soothe the agitated bowtruckles without causing them harm. Amidst the chaos, only one useful piece of information emerged—the connection to a larger tree provided a significantly greater energy boost compared to smaller trees, and correspondingly, the tree spirit was more substantial in size. Unfortunately, attempts to communicate with the spirit proved fruitless, as it continued to operate on basic instincts alone.