Your comments, reviews, and votes really help me out so much and they make me super motivated to keep working on this story!
Thank you! Pat**on : ilham20
The teacup containing the pumpkin juice was enchanted, as if it hid a spring of pumpkin juice within. After being drunk dry and placed there, it would gurgle and refill itself.
Melvin placed the teacup back on the table, watching the pumpkin juice fill the cup, as if it were some pleasing sight.
He turned to look at the contemplative young witch and asked softly, "Do you want to learn... this kind of magic?"
"It really exists?" Hermione was stunned.
"As long as magical creatures demonstrate it, it proves that this kind of magic exists," Melvin said with a light laugh. "In a sense, Charms is bionics. The vast majority of magic is wizards imitating magical creatures."
There was such a theory in the wizarding world: magical power was innate, but spells were not.
Ancient wizards studied the underlying principles by observing the magic of magical creatures. Through incantations and wand movements, they formed rituals to guide magic along fixed routes to cast spells.
The Disillusionment Charm originated from Demiguises, the Fire-Making Spell was born from dragon fire, the prototype of the Atmospheric Charm was the cry of the Thunderbird, the Undetectable Extension Charm and the Occamy... such examples were numerous.
"Professor!"
Hermione's spirit lifted. Staring at the young professor in front of her, she asked incredulously, "Have you already succeeded?"
"It's just a concept for now; it still needs experimentation." Melvin asked with a smile, "Miss Granger, would you like to join my research group?"
"But..."
Researching dark creatures like Boggarts and Dementors, and even deriving magic that uses emotions to increase magical power—no matter which country, this would be an extremely egregious illegal act, right?
The young witch's face was full of conflict, unable to make a choice for a moment.
"I am an elective professor at Hogwarts, a special advisor to the Wizarding Examinations Authority and the Ministry of Magic. Of course, I wouldn't knowingly break the law."
Melvin seemed to know the young witch's thoughts and spoke with confidence: "The basis of the experiment is solid and reliable theory. To research new spells, we need to find suitable magical creature prototypes. And Dementors and Boggarts can't even be called complete lives! Hermione, do you know how many magical creatures in the world are associated with emotions and magical growth?"
"Is it not Boggarts and Dementors?"
"Of course not. It's the North American variant Horned Serpent."
When Melvin said this, he had the air of bewitching a little girl.
The gift of the Horned Serpent was impossible to study. Melvin only had fragmentary guesses so far. Yurm had only hatched for two years and hadn't even grown all its scales. He had no assurance whether it could emerge on other wizards.
The theory he proposed now was essentially still based on the research of Boggarts and Dementors.
Melvin remained calm on the surface, continuing to coax with half-truths: "When the Irish witch Isolt Sayre founded Ilvermorny, she listed four animals as the patrons of the houses. The Thunderbird is responsible for regulating the climate of Mount Greylock, the Wampus and Pukwudgie are responsible for resisting foreign enemies and ensuring the safety of teachers and students. Only the variant Horned Serpent doesn't have many records."
The young witch listened with relish, not blinking an eye.
Yurm beside them also leaned over, opening its round eyes, unknown how much it could understand.
"In fact, the only wizard in school history who has seen the Horned Serpent is Isolt Sayre..."
"I know. The Horned Serpent possesses the gift of prophecy and warned Ms. Sayre that a powerful enemy was approaching." Hermione had read the history of Ilvermorny.
"As expected of Gryffindor's Miss Know-It-All. That's right. Ordinary Horned Serpents can't prophesy. That water serpent had an innate crystal embedded in its forehead, so it was a variant."
Melvin thought of that white snake, paused, and a look of remembrance appeared in his eyes. "That Horned Serpent stayed in Mount Greylock, unknown how long it lived. It possessed both wisdom and the intuition of a beast. That crystal could not only observe the future but also sense the emotions of other creatures."
"Like Legilimency?" Hermione unconsciously glanced at the little snake on the table.
Yurm fiddled with the small horn on its head with the tip of its tail. There was no crystal on its forehead, only a strange scale.
"Yes, similar to Legilimency, but the principle is completely different. Simply put, Legilimency is magic where a wizard spies on another wizard's thoughts, memories, and emotions, presented in images, language, and other ways..."
Melvin described it in language as concise as possible: "The perception of the Horned Serpent is more intuitive and specific, just like snakes have infrared vision and can sense temperature."
Hermione showed a thoughtful expression and suddenly realized: "Professor, you mean they can see emotions?"
"You are very sharp. I once asked about its past, but it was unwilling to reveal it, so I can only speculate about those distant experiences from hundreds of years ago."
Melvin's tone slowed down at some point, like an old wizard recalling the past, mourning an old friend, giving a feeling of narration:
"When the Horned Serpent was young, that new continent hadn't been developed yet. Indigenous people lived on the plains. It liked to hide in remote wilderness mountains and forests, rarely contacting humans, only able to see the emotions of animals.
"What complex emotions can animals have? Busy hunting and eating every day, avoiding natural enemies, courting and reproducing...
"Those colors were often relatively monotonous, even appearing dim. It might have thought they were just things like fur and feathers—bright and beautiful, but useless."
"Like peacocks and weasels." Hermione gave two examples.
Melvin nodded and continued: "Until Ms. Isolt Sayre founded Ilvermorny in Mount Greylock. After the reputation spread, immigrant teachers and students from all over the world gathered at the school, giving it many different observation subjects.
"Compared to animals, the emotional colors of wizards are even more gorgeous than the most dazzling auroras in nature, complex and changeable, vivid and intense. Perhaps angry due to a quarrel one second, and happy and reconciled the next...
"Human emotions showed magnificent and brilliant colors. The Horned Serpent naturally became curious."
Melvin paused for a moment, thinking perhaps that water serpent also poked its head out of the water to contact him out of curiosity.
"Curious about what?"
"..."
Curious about why such a young little wizard harbored a completely different soul in his body.
Melvin gave the answer in his heart, but his mouth spoke the answer to another question: "What wonderful uses does this observable peculiar existence actually have? Can it be influenced, captured, or even manipulated? Can it be utilized?"
"This is Dark Magic, right?" Hermione was a bit dumbfounded. "This sounds like an Unforgivable Curse."
"Magic isn't black and white. The Fire-Making Spell is also divided into Bluebell Flames and Fiendfyre. Theoretical deduction looks scary, but the final effect may not be any dark and evil magic."
Melvin withdrew from the emotion of remembrance and put on the face of coaxing a little girl again: "Conqueror Caesar once said, seeing is conquering. Only by observing emotions can we capture them to serve as the key to opening the treasure vault of magic."
"Caesar said: I came, I saw, I conquered." Hermione corrected.
"It means about the same..." Melvin waved his hand. "Before utilizing emotions, you must first perceive them."
"How to perceive?" Hermione was puzzled.
"The Horned Serpent has innate talent, while we are wizards without such talent. We can only use magic to make up for this talent."
"You mean... Legilimency?" Hermione slowly understood.
"Remember what I mentioned at the beginning? Dementors are excellent teaching aids, not just for practicing the Patronus Charm."
Melvin revealed the answer, waved his hand, manipulated the silver glow of the Patronus, and pulled the imprisoned Dementor in front of him:
"Dementors are just incomplete lives, without complex and changeable thoughts, almost storing no long-term memories, but their emotions are very rich. Their bodies contain a lot of negative emotions, but they absorb a lot of positive emotions... Using Legilimency on them allows for relatively convenient capture of emotions—pure and diverse emotions."
Hermione stared at the Dementor's terrifying face, her upper body subconsciously leaning back.
"Try it..." The professor's urging was like a demon's whisper.
...
Aberforth walked out of the staircase landing. Several consecutive rotations made his head dizzy.
He stood in the corridor outside the staircase entrance, pondering ways to continue upstairs. Hogwarts' staircases seemed to have different tempers and personalities. The staircases on the lower floors were relatively gentle and understanding, sending him to the third floor without much trouble, where he met Filch and his cat and muddled his way to the fourth floor.
The staircases after the fourth floor were completely mischievous brats who loved pranks. Almost all staircases had no obvious patterns. Clearly watching the staircase rotate right half a minute ago, according to normal thinking, it should stay still for the next few minutes to let pedestrians pass. Even if it rotated, it should turn left.
But the next few times were all right rotations, trapping him on the stairs for nearly half an hour.
"Finally at the sixth floor?" Aberforth muttered.
On the dim corridor walls hung several old signposts made of cherry wood, stained with Gobstone juice. Only with the help of moonlight could he make out the blurred writing: Prefects' Bathroom, Gregory the Smarmy's Corridor...
Aberforth was a dropout wizard. He stayed at Hogwarts for less than two years. Now, news about Hogwarts was all gleaned from the mouths of tavern patrons. He knew the Prefects' Bathroom was on the sixth floor and the Headmaster's office on the eighth.
According to the increasingly bizarre rotation patterns of the stairs, the remaining two floors might take until dawn to climb.
Couldn't this castle be simpler?
"Hm?" His bright blue eyes lit up slightly.
Footsteps came from the corridor ahead again. Not that Squib caretaker, but another professor—an odd witch, very thin, a pair of round glasses magnifying her eyes to a somewhat frightening degree, wearing a shawl draped with many glittering metal spangles.
"Sybill?" Aberforth called out.
Before he became the owner of the Hog's Head and was just a barman, he had seen this Divination professor.
That was more than ten years ago. His brother interviewed this applicant at the Hog's Head, and this witch of the Trelawney family made a prophecy on the spot—a prophecy that affected the future of the wizarding world.
He secretly praised Lady Luck in his heart, the corners of his mouth curling into a bluffing gentle smile, and walked towards this Divination professor, trying to make her a guide straight to the eighth floor.
Trelawney's thin face was flushed with an unnatural red, her eyes half-closed. Not from sleepiness, but from intoxication caused by heavy drinking. The smell of sherry lingered on her body.
"Oh, Dumbledore..." Trelawney mumbled indistinctly. "Merlin above, I drank too much tonight, having hallucinations... I feel like you aren't you."
"Uh..."
Aberforth went stiff, the corners of his eyes twitching twice. He forgot this was a Divination professor, and a Seer truly possessing the Inner Eye. Her perception was much keener than ordinary wizards.
"Perhaps the blooming sherry tastes refreshing, making one drink fast and much without realizing it, easy to get drunk."
Aberforth spoke slowly. He ran a tavern and was experienced in dealing with such drinkers. "I think you should rest, Sybill. There's hot cocoa in my office. Want a cup? It can sober you up and make your head less painful."
"Headache. For me, being sober is headache enough."
Trelawney complained: "Because of Minerva and Melvin, several students think I'm a fraud and dropped my Divination class. The remaining students are reading Muggle books in my class, some messy psychology..."
"..."
Aberforth felt his own head starting to ache. Not knowing how to deal with school affairs, he could only advise dryly: "Perhaps you should take a look too?"
"Dumbledore!" Professor Trelawney shouted in dissatisfaction. "You also think I'm a fraud? Have you thought so for a long time! You want to cancel my Divination class and give the hours to Melvin for his Muggle Studies!"
"Fraud? No, of course not. We all know clearly that you are a genuine Seer." Aberforth said this with sincerity.
"But the students don't want to believe it! They take my class now just because the homework and exams are easy to fool!"
"..."
Aberforth opened his mouth but stopped.
Is this Albus's job all these years?
It seemed less relaxed and comfortable than expected.
He somewhat regretted coming up to strike a conversation. Better to have wasted two hours on the stairs!
...
Meanwhile, inside the Room of Requirement, in the fortress of the fake Azkaban, Hermione stayed alone in the room, practicing Legilimency on the Dementor, over and over again.
Melvin said he didn't want to repeat Barnabas's mistakes and went outside to herd the Dementors. adopting Pavlovian dog training concepts. Training Dementors was like training dogs; temporarily unable to provide food, he could only provide incentive by walking them.
Inside the huge fortress remained only the young witch, the Dementor, and the lazy little snake on the table.
Legilimency wasn't a spell with strict conditions like the Patronus Charm; it was more like a craftsman's skill. Talented wizards could pick it up quickly and grow into Legilimency masters, while ordinary people learned through repeated practice until practice made perfect.
But while practicing, she also had to control the Patronus Charm, otherwise the Dementor would practice on her.
The casting process repeated over and over. Staring into those hollow eye sockets, listening to the distant waves, fatigue surged like the tide, slowly submerging her.
Hermione blinked slowly, suddenly feeling drowsy.