Hogwarts Never Lacked Exceptionally Talented Students!

It had to be said.

Aside from Professor Snape being rather sharp-tongued, unpleasant to listen to, and not particularly likable to look at, the dear professor actually had many other virtues.

For example, he had left Ian more than enough Galleons.

Although buying all sorts of necessities today had cost quite a bit, the Money Bag had clearly been affected by an Undetectable Extension Charm. There were still a full hundred and fifty Galleons inside—a terrifying fortune!

Never underestimate that number.

An ordinary Ministry of Magic civil servant would probably need two months to earn that amount in wages, and that was assuming they neither ate nor drank and deposited every last bit in Gringotts.

One had to know.

Ron's family could not even afford the seven Galleons needed for a wand.

One could imagine.

Whether for a Young Wizard or an adult wizard, one hundred and fifty Galleons was absolutely an amount that would make many people envious.

"Damn, even if I really started out as an orphan whose parents died for the plot, they did not need to feel this guilty, right?" Ian increasingly felt that something was not so simple. Could his mother really be Lily Potter's clone?

Don't tell me!

It's only the nineties!

Neither Muggles nor the Wizarding World have that kind of technology, right?

Terrifying upon closer thought! Terrifying upon closer thought!

Although Ian felt uneasy.

What occupied him more now was learning magic.

After moving everything into the tidy Small Wooden House Snape had provided, Ian eagerly took out his wand and picked up Hogwarts's indispensable textbook—Standard Spell: Beginner.

At dusk.

The last traces of sunset had already vanished beyond the horizon.

As night fell.

Ian chose the simplest and most frequently used spell.

"Lumos!"

Following the instructions in the textbook, Ian focused his attention, synchronizing his thoughts with his wand. After taking a deep breath, he softly recited the spell.

The next moment.

A glimmer of light shone from the tip of his wand.

It vanished in an instant.

The light went out quickly.

This was clearly an unsuccessful spell attempt, but Ian did not feel the slightest bit discouraged. Instead, his eyes lit up with excitement.

When it came to learning.

Most people were constrained by various reasons, unable to improve or unable to perceive their own progress. This was the biggest reason why many people found it difficult to persist in learning a particular kind of knowledge.

However.

For Ian.

This was not something he needed to worry about.

Lumos Charm (Level 0): 3/50

With that failed attempt, a new skill category had appeared on Ian's panel. He had experienced similar processes more than once before.

"Looks like my magical talent isn't bad!"

Ian stared at the information on his panel.

He was incredibly excited.

A single attempt earned him three points of proficiency. With no more than twenty attempts, he would master this spell and reach the most basic, simplest beginner level.

When the learning of a skill could be quantified in numbers.

It was like a god revealing their health bar.

"Lumos!"

"Lumos!"

"Lumos!"

Inside the empty wooden house.

White light flashed on and off.

Again and again, he continued trying.

It was Ian's passion for magic.

And his anticipation of what kind of Extraordinary Trait magic might produce.

Hogwarts.

Headmaster's Office.

As the strongest wizard in the magical world today, Dumbledore sat behind a solid wooden desk like an ordinary old man, dressed in old-fashioned patterned pajamas.

The desk lamp on the table was not connected to any wires, yet it steadily cast a glow like an old-fashioned Oil Lamp. In the center of the desk lay an open book.

Aurora Grindelwald

Dumbledore's gaze remained fixed on one name among the countless names filling the book. Behind silver lenses, his weathered yet bright Eyes gleamed.

"Tap~ tap~ tap~"

His fingers repeatedly tapped against the desktop as though he were considering something. For an old man to remain awake so late at night, there was surely something troubling his mind.

"Rumble—"

The Sounded of machinery turning echoed out.

Dumbledore did not look up.

A figure hurried into the entrance of the Headmaster's Office.

"Albus, you never told me Ian was a natural Legilimens!" Snape's face was filled with fury, as though he had come to demand an explanation.

Faced with the accusation that rang throughout the office, the figures in the portraits on the walls covered their Ears. A few portraits, however, leaned toward the fronts of their Picture Frames as though eager to watch the show.

"I think some things can only be called surprises when you discover them for yourself. Just as I never told Mr. Prince about the inseparable connection between you and him."

Dumbledore finally raised his head. His voice was exceptionally steady yet gentle. With a casual wave of his hand, the book on the desk closed by itself.

The Book of Admissions

That was the book's name.

Every student who would attend Hogwarts had their name written in it by the Quill of Acceptance. Hogwarts's admissions system had always relied on these two Alchemical Creations.

Of course.

The book Dumbledore had placed on his desk was naturally not the original Book of Admissions. Perhaps it was merely some kind of copy linked to the Book of Admissions. After all, the Book of Admissions and the Quill of Acceptance had always been kept in a locked small tower that no student had ever visited.

"There's something abnormal about him!"

Snape stood in the center of the office, his expression carrying traces of lingering fear. "Occlumency was completely ineffective. I made more than one all-out attempt."

"He said he could only sense my emotions, but I think he can do far more than that. Albus, I have never seen such an unreasonable Legilimency."

Snape stared fixedly at Dumbledore.

"The facts prove that some people truly can be more exceptional than imagination allows, Severus. I don't think that is difficult for you to understand." Dumbledore's expression did not change in the slightest.

He had clearly noticed Ian's unusual nature long ago.

"It's not as if I have never encountered natural Legilimens before. Those people's minds did not possess such tyrannical invasive power. A talent like his is far too dangerous!"

Snape's expression was extremely serious and earnest, his voice carrying concern he could not hide. His gaze never left Dumbledore.

That look, as though he wanted to swallow Dumbledore whole, made Dumbledore sit up straighter with some discomfort.

"Being extraordinarily gifted is not a bad thing."

Dumbledore's voice remained gentle.

"We had an agreement! He only needs to attend school normally, then graduate and live an ordinary life! Damn it! Next year, you're bringing that person into the school!"

"At a time like this, the last thing he needs is extraordinary talent. He only needs an unremarkable life, like those mediocre students, one that doesn't need to be particularly exciting!"

Whenever Snape spoke, he always sounded as though he were gritting his teeth.

"I think Mr. Prince's life does not require any of us to decide it for him." Dumbledore could understand Snape's somewhat overreactive response.

However.

He did not agree with Snape's arrangement. "That is a right not even parents possess. I know what you are thinking, and I advise you to abandon that idea."

Dumbledore looked directly at Snape.

Snape remained silent.

A moment later.

"He will hate you."

Dumbledore spoke softly.

"You think I care?"

Snape sneered.

"Severus, if the long years have taught me anything, it is to never believe oneself absolutely right. You must know that attempting to influence another person's life with your own will is incredibly foolish."

"Even the strongest magic cannot change the bitter consequences such actions will sow." The lamplight on the desk and Snape's figure were reflected in Dumbledore's silver lenses.

"We are both failures. What right do we have to decide what kind of life is correct?" Dumbledore's words made Snape's expression change as rapidly as Sichuan Opera Face-Changing.

"You are not a failure. The greatest wizard in the world, the Headmaster of Hogwarts—even now, many in the Wizarding World fear your power."

"Albus, excessive modesty only makes people think you are hypocritical."

Snape snorted coldly, his words utterly blunt.

Dumbledore shook his head noncommittally.

"In fact, I told you about his existence not because I wanted you to change anything about him. On the contrary, what I wanted to see was you being changed because of him."

"Severus, you need him. He does not need you."

Dumbledore's words greatly Annoyed Snape.

"What nonsense are you talking about!"

Snape raised his voice several degrees.

Dumbledore merely smiled in response.

"I don't need you arranging my life either!"

Snape stared into Dumbledore's Eyes.

"No matter what scheme you are plotting, you need to swear to me. Make an Unbreakable Vow with me and tell me he is not one part of your plan."

Snape clearly did not trust Dumbledore very much.

"First of all, you and many others overestimate my wisdom far too much. Secondly, if this will put your mind at ease... of course."

Dumbledore helplessly shrugged and drew the wand he had set aside—in this magical world, an Unbreakable Vow was an important magical rule.

It required two people to point their wands at one another before a witness and state the contents of their vow. Once the vow was spoken and accepted, it formed an almost unbreakable bond between them. Should the maker of the vow attempt to break it, they would pay a painful price.

"Are you satisfied now?"

After putting away his wand again.

Dumbledore did not show the slightest anger.

"I don't know what you are planning by letting that person into the school, but no matter what, I hope you can truly do what a Hogwarts headmaster ought to do."

"Protect the safety of every student."

With the Unbreakable Vow binding them, Snape's expression finally became less unpleasant. However, he clearly still harbored a certain degree of dissatisfaction and suspicion toward some of Dumbledore's choices.

"That is my duty."

Dumbledore's voice was steady and powerful.

It gave people a sense that he could be trusted.

"Once that person comes in, I'll keep an eye on him."

Snape flicked his robes, turned with a sour expression, and left. His figure soon vanished from the office—Dumbledore lowered his head once more to look at the copied Book of Admissions on the desk.

"Dumbledore! Snape has really changed!"

"Indecisive! What a disgrace to Slytherin! I think he should have gone to Hufflepuff!"

"I would quite like to see that child. Severus's Occlumency has always been formidable. There is actually a natural Legilimens capable of frightening even him?"

"No matter how talented he is, can he be more talented than me? Hogwarts never lacks exceptionally talented students!"

After Snape left.

The former Hogwarts headmasters on the walls began chattering away in heated discussion. The noisy atmosphere did not disrupt Dumbledore's thoughts.

He gently waved his hand again, and the book on the desk rapidly opened.

It was still that name.

Still the same contemplation.

Aurora Grindelwald

After first seeing this name appear in the Book of Admissions, Dumbledore had gone to Nurmengard to see an Old Friend. This surname clearly came from that First Generation Dark Lord.

Gellert Grindelwald.

The person in the Book of Admissions was not Gellert Grindelwald's direct descendant, yet for some unknown reason, she was a Blood Relative who had inherited Gellert Grindelwald's rare talent.

In fact.

Not long ago.

The lesson Dumbledore had just preached to Snape was an idea that had been slightly changed and influenced after his visit to Gellert Grindelwald.

"Albus, your failure and mine both stem from trying to change too many things, too many people, without realizing that we are merely somewhat more powerful wizards."

"Wizards can divert Destiny, but do not delude yourself into thinking you can decide Destiny... Now, I only want this child to walk her own path as a witch, guided by the thoughts I have gained through reflection."

Those were Gellert Grindelwald's exact words to Dumbledore.

They even carried a hint of pleading.

It made Dumbledore truly unable to refuse.

However.

The reason he was still hesitating and uncertain now was entirely because Dumbledore truly could not determine whether Gellert Grindelwald's words carried some other purpose.

Granted.

Gellert Grindelwald might not lie to him, but he was absolutely capable of misleading him in certain ways. There was probably no one in the world who understood the art of language better than Gellert Grindelwald.

Earlier, when he said he was not as clever as others imagined, it had not been Dumbledore being modest or hypocritical. Over the course of his life, his own cleverness had left him with far too many regrets.

It was precisely because of this.

That Dumbledore resonated with Gellert Grindelwald's previous two remarks.

And precisely because of this.

Dumbledore worried that Gellert Grindelwald was up to something again.

It was not that he was overly suspicious.

The main reason was...

After spending many years in Nurmengard, Gellert Grindelwald had changed far more than Dumbledore had imagined. Dumbledore remembered that Gellert Grindelwald's greatest change had come in that particular year.

"1979..."

It had been on some day that year.

The dispirited Gellert Grindelwald seemed to have regained the high spirits of his youth. It was the first time in many years that Dumbledore had been startled enough to go to Nurmengard and see this old friend.

"Dumbledore, I hope you can witness the changes in this world with me, rather than stop them from happening."

"You can stop me, stop many things, stop that clown named Tom—but, Albus, neither you nor I can stop the rise of a legend."

It was that year.

As though he had regained his vitality, Gellert Grindelwald had even redecorated the place where he lived. Eating steak and looking twenty or thirty years younger, he had given Dumbledore a meaningful... warning.

And this year.

Was precisely the year that children born in 1979 enrolled in school.

"So the legend you spoke of is your descendant?" Dumbledore raised a hand and gently stroked the name in The Book of Admissions. His soft murmur was likely audible only to himself.