Do You Want to Master Magic?

As expected of twins, the two brothers speak so similarly.

With that thought in mind, Wizet slowly approached Filch.

As if sensing danger, Mrs. Norris arched her back and bristled, making threatening "gurgling" sounds in her throat.

"What do you want?" Filch realized something was wrong; he seemed to have switched from being the hunter to the hunted.

Wizet observed Filch's performance, and as she pondered, she changed her tone.

"Mr. Filch ..."

He imitated Professor Snape's voice, somber and cold, with a hint of disdain and arrogance.

In Wizet's opinion, this was the most suitable tone for the current situation; Professor Snape's voice still had a lot of imposing presence...

"It's three against two now, what do you think... we can do?"

Achoo!

Snape opened his eyes and sneezed loudly.

His sleep quality has been poor ever since that O.W.L. Exam.

Without the aid of Potions, it's easy to wake up from a dream unexpectedly.

He had been woken up by small noises like sneezing many times, so he wasn't surprised.

Especially after Harry Potter enrolled in school, the frequency of his sneezing increased dramatically.

Snape called out in a low voice, "Gryffindor, deduct one point!"

Upon arriving at his office, his gaze fell upon the Horklump.

He waved his wand, sending several earthworms to Horklump's side, and watched as Horklump devoured them bit by bit, only then did a few slivers of drowsiness begin to creep in...

"Wow!" Fred and George exclaimed in unison, their voices tinged with surprise. "That tone sounds so familiar..."

They also imitated Professor Snape's tone, "Filch, it's three against two now, what do you think... we can do?"

"What are you planning to do!" Filch shouted at the top of his lungs.

Although his voice sounded firm, his eyes became unfocused.

Having spent years dealing with students, he naturally wouldn't soften his tone easily.

"Why don't we get to the bottom of this... and talk about what happened tonight..." Wizet took a few more steps forward, his wand already in his hand.

The wand tapped lightly on the outside of the thigh, producing a dull, tinkling sound that mingled with the unhurried footsteps, creating a unique sense of oppression.

Filch didn't speak, but his eyes revealed a hint of bravado masking his inner weakness.

Wizet looked Filch straight in the eye. "Mr. Filch? Solving the problem is the key, isn't it?"

George said in an odd tone, "Wizet, don't be so polite with that tone, it sounds really strange!"

"Exactly!" Fred twisted his body, struggling to break free from Filch's grasp, and stood up with a grin, hands on his hips, saying, "Now the advantage is ours!"

Filch glanced at the three men blocking the corridor, his wandering gaze finally settling on George. "Make him hand over that letter! Tonight's events... I'll pretend they never happened!"

George fumbled in his pocket with exaggerated movements, pulling out two envelopes. "Do you want the letter in this parchment envelope... or the letter in this purple envelope?"

Filch stared intently at the purple envelope, threatening menacingly, "Give it to me! Or you're finished!"

"I'm going to hang you on the wall and whip you, one lash after another, until your skin is torn and bleeding, and I won't stop!"

"So this is what you wanted!" George exclaimed, waving the envelope in his hand. "No wonder you called me out earlier... it was for this..."

"Don't get so worked up..." Fred said, shaking his head. "Have you forgotten what the situation is? We have one more person than you!"

"Since Filch won't say, then we'll have to say it ourselves... Wizet, do you know what this letter is? Haha! It's Quick Spell-Casting Course ..."

"Meow!"

Before Fred could finish speaking, Mrs. Norris leaped up, grabbed the purple envelope, and handed it to Filch.

George shook his hand dramatically. "Whew! That was close! He almost bit my hand!"

Wizet knew about the Quick Spell-Casting Course, a correspondence course offered by a magic company to help adult wizards improve their magical abilities.

"Filch, you've misunderstood us. We're just trying to help you!" George continued. "This course won't be of much use to you, after all, you are..."

Combined with this letter about the Quick Spell-Casting Course, and the commotion caused by George, Fred, Filch, and Mrs. Norris...

Wizet now has a more complete understanding of what happened tonight.

"Ahem..." Wizet coughed twice and waved to George. "Mr. Filch, do you want to master magic and use magic?"

"What do you want to say? What do you know!" Filch's bluster hadn't disappeared, but his tone became even more forceful.

"What you know isn't important, what's important is you..." Wizet didn't answer, continuing to press in a somber, dismissive tone, "Do you want to master magic?"

Filch froze, his eyes flickering with a hint of confusion as he pondered the meaning of Wizet's words.

He knew that Wizet was a somewhat mysterious student; the other professors were one thing, but even Snape treated Wizet differently...

Coupled with the deeper meaning implied in Wizet's tone, Filch found it somewhat intriguing.

Filch couldn't be sure whether Wizet's claim of "mastering magic" was true or not.

He knew he was a Squib, and if he could truly master magic, he wouldn't be a janitor at Hogwarts, putting up with the students' bad temper.

Signing up for the Quick Spell-Casting Course now is simply a way of giving it another try and seeing if a miracle will happen.

When he saw the wand that night, he was incredibly excited. He immediately grabbed it and tried to use the Wand-Lighting Charm.

However, reality is cruel; as a Squib, he indeed has no magical talent.

But... Snape is Potions Master, and Wizet goes to Snape's office every week...

Could it be that through Wizet, Snape could obtain some kind of Potions that would allow the Squib to cast spells?

Potions are widely used in the magical world. Filch learned from the Daily Prophet that someone had invented a Potions called Wolfsbane Potion, which could restore the sanity of Werewolf in their transformed state.

Even Werewolf, the lowest rung of the magical world, can be freed from their rage and bloodlust with the help of Potions; so can Squib be altered by Potions and thus gain the ability to cast spells?

Thinking of this, Filch gritted his teeth, as if filled with some hope, yet also afraid of being disappointed again.

His voice was forced out through clenched teeth, "You... what way... is there to really let me cast a spell?"

"Mr. Filch, please note..." Wizet gently shook her head, correcting Filch's statement, "I said 'mastering magic,' not 'casting magic.'"