Probing

"The Order of Merlin," full name "The Order of Merlin, Knight Commander," has three classes and is the highest honor in the European magic world.

Those who receive it are invariably wizards who have made tremendous contributions to the magical community—Albus Dumbledore, for example, is a recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class.

Under normal circumstances, an improved spell would never earn the Order of Merlin, not even the lowest Third Class. But Klein hadn't improved just any spell—it was a Healing Spell. Once widely adopted, every wizard would benefit!

If a contribution like that couldn't earn a medal, then nothing could.

"A true genius, Dumbledore. I mean, his talent might even surpass That Person's!"

Professor Flitwick slapped the crumpled parchment, speaking excitedly to Dumbledore behind the desk.

Improving a Healing Spell at eleven years old—a feat no one had ever accomplished!

"Alright, Philius, I'll send the boy's research results to the Ministry of Magic."

Dumbledore, clad in deep purple robes, looked somewhat helplessly at his old friend and waved his wand to conjure a cup of sweet Honey Tea for him.

"No need, I have a class soon. I'll leave this here—don't forget to write to the Ministry."

Using the Levitation Charm, Flitwick floated the parchment onto Dumbledore's desk and declined the cloyingly sweet drink. After he left, Dumbledore gazed thoughtfully at the crumpled parchment, a hint of amusement flickering in his brown eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Dumbledore, you're playing with fire."

From the wall, the portrait of Delores Derwent spoke in a low voice.

She was Hogwarts' third Headmaster, hailing from the wisdom-renowned Ravenclaw.

"Heh, that little one is a true Slytherin. I don't see any danger."

The portrait of Phineas Black also spoke, his words brimming with strong pride in Slytherin and admiration for Klein.

Genius always belonged to the snake house!

"Black, I think you've forgotten about Tom. The more gifted someone is, the greater the danger when they fall into darkness."

Armando Dippet's portrait frowned, his expression sour. As the previous Headmaster of Hogwarts, he had always blamed himself for failing to uncover Voldemort's hidden dark ambitions.

"No one can deny that Tom accomplished something, even if it was wrong!"

Phineas Black snorted, refusing to yield an inch.

"Headmasters, remember your roles. The one running the school now is Dumbledore; we can only offer advice."

Seeing the argument between Delores Derwent, Phineas Black, and Armando Dippet escalate, Hogwarts' first Headmaster, Dexter Fortescue, cleared his throat and cut them off without mercy.

"Don't worry. Klein is different from Tom—I'm certain of that. But..."

Looking at the portraits on the wall, Dumbledore smiled, suddenly recalling what the Sorting Hat had told him.

"Headmaster Dippet is right. We really can't raise another 'Dark Lord.'"

"I'm here to see Headmaster Dumbledore. He asked me to come."

After dinner, having finished a full day of classes, Klein arrived at the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor of the castle and spoke to the two stone gargoyles guarding the door.

"Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned this. Go right in."

The stone gargoyles showed no surprise at Klein's arrival, stepping aside to reveal the massive wooden door behind them.

"Thank you."

Klein nodded in thanks and pushed the door open calmly, but to his surprise, Dumbledore himself wasn't inside.

"Child, you're here. Come, let me have a good look at you."

No sooner had he stepped into the office than a kind voice came from the wall. Klein turned his head to see all the portraits of past Headmasters watching him. The one who had spoken was an old man with brown curly hair.

"Greetings, Headmasters."

Klein gave a slight bow.

"Ha! A true Slytherin student—improving a spell at such a young age. I am very pleased with you!"

Phineas Black tugged at his small beard, his eyes filled with genuine pride.

Though he was historically the most unpopular Headmaster of Hogwarts, he always gave extra care and guidance to students from Slytherin, much like those stubborn, feudal grandparents who doted excessively on their grandchildren.

"Headmaster Black, it is my honor to study in Slytherin."

Klein wore a humble expression, subtly flattering the snake house.

Hearing this, the other's smile deepened as expected.

"Ahem!"

Seeing the old and young Slytherins about to launch into mutual praise, Delores Derwent coughed dryly and pointed her thick, long wand at Dumbledore's desk.

"Child, Dumbledore is out on business and should be back soon. You've had a long day of classes—I think you could sit in his chair and rest for a while."

She paused, then offered a smile.

"And if you're lucky, you might find some snacks in his drawer."

"Thank you, but that would be too rude. I'll wait here standing."

Instinctively, Klein sensed a trap and declined without hesitation.

"Uh..."

Delores Derwent was momentarily at a loss for words, seemingly not expecting this situation to arise.

This wasn't quite what she had imagined.

"Then go take a look at the books. Dumbledore has many precious private collections. I've heard you're a clever child—some books can help you better master your innate talents. Don't worry, he won't blame you."

Just then, the first portrait on the left, wearing a kind smile, also spoke up. Meeting Klein's slightly intrigued gaze, he even gave a rather playful wink.

"Oh, waiting here, are we~"

On the surface, Klein looked excited, but inside, he was completely calm.

Glancing over Dumbledore's desk without leaving a trace, he noticed several thick books haphazardly stacked on top of it.

"Truly lacking in originality."

Sneering inwardly, Klein walked over to Dumbledore's bookshelf.

Sure enough, aside from some conventional spellbooks and Alchemy Formulas, the shelf also concealed five genuine Dark Magic Books.

The intent was already obvious—this was a test.

If Klein were truly a gifted Eleven Years Old child, Dumbledore's "trap" couldn't exactly be called crude.

But unfortunately, he wasn't.

Still...

That was fine.

Having grasped the key point, the corners of Klein's mouth lifted slightly. Under the full, focused gaze of the past headmasters, he bypassed all the ordinary magic books and placed his hand on a black book tucked away at the edge of the shelf.