Testing

The full name of the Order of Merlin was the Order of Merlin. It had three classes and was the highest honor in the European Magical World.

Those who received the Order had all made enormous contributions to the Magical World. Albus Dumbledore, for example, had received the Order of Merlin, First Class.

Under normal circumstances, an improved spell could never earn someone the Order of Merlin. Even the lowest class, the Third-Class Order of Merlin, would be out of reach. But Klein hadn't improved just any spell—he'd improved the Healing Spell. If it were widely adopted, every wizard would benefit!

If a contribution like that couldn't earn him an Order, it would be hard to justify.

"A true genius, Dumbledore. I mean, he may be even more talented than That Person!"

Professor Flitwick slapped the wrinkled piece of parchment and spoke excitedly to Dumbledore, who sat behind his desk.

Improving the Healing Spell at the age of eleven was an unprecedented feat!

"Very well, Philius. I'll report the boy's research to the Ministry of Magic."

Dumbledore, dressed in deep purple robes, looked at his old friend with some exasperation. With a wave of his wand, he conjured a cup of sweet Honey Tea for him.

"No need. I have a class in a little while. I'll leave this here. Don't forget to write to the Ministry of Magic."

Professor Flitwick used the Levitation Charm to send the parchment onto Dumbledore's desk, then politely declined the sickeningly sweet drink. After he left, Dumbledore studied the wrinkled parchment, a hint of amusement flashing in his brown eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Dumbledore, you're playing with fire."

Dilys Derwent's portrait spoke gravely from the wall.

She had been Hogwarts' third Headmistress and was a member of Ravenclaw, the house renowned for its wisdom.

"Heh. The boy's a true Slytherin. I don't see what's so dangerous about that."

Phineas Black's portrait spoke up as well, his words betraying his fierce pride in Slytherin and his admiration for Klein.

Geniuses always belonged in Slytherin!

"Black, I think you've forgotten what happened with Tom. The more talented someone is, the more dangerous they become if 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 recognize Voldemort's hidden dark ambitions.

"No one can deny that Tom accomplished a great deal, even if what he did was wrong!"

Phineas Black snorted, refusing to back down.

"Headmasters, remember your duty. Dumbledore is in charge of the school now. All we can do is offer advice."

Seeing that the argument between Dilys Derwent, Phineas Black, and Armando Dippet was about to escalate, Dexter Fortescue, Hogwarts' first Headmaster, gave a light cough and cut them off without hesitation.

"Don't worry. Klein isn't like Tom—I'm certain of that. But..."

Dumbledore looked toward the portraits on the wall and smiled. Then he suddenly recalled 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 told me to come."

After dinner, following a full day of classes, Klein arrived at the Headmaster's office on the Seventh Floor and addressed the two stone beasts guarding the door.

"Headmaster Dumbledore told us about this. Go right in."

The stone beasts weren't surprised to see Klein. They dutifully stepped aside, revealing the enormous wooden door behind them.

"Thank you."

Klein nodded in gratitude and calmly pushed the door open. To his surprise, Dumbledore wasn't there.

"Child, you've arrived! Come closer and let me have a good look at you."

As soon as he entered the office, a kindly voice came from the wall. Klein turned to see the portraits of the past Headmasters watching him. The speaker was an old man with curly brown hair.

"Good evening, Headmasters."

Klein bowed slightly.

"Ha! No wonder you're one of our Slytherins. Improving a spell at such a young age—I'm very impressed!"

Phineas Black stroked his little moustache, his eyes full of genuine pride.

Although he was the least popular Headmaster in Hogwarts history, he was always willing to give Slytherin students extra care and guidance. He was just like those stubborn, old-fashioned grandparents who spoiled their grandchildren rotten.

"Headmaster Black, it's an honor to study in Slytherin."

Klein put on a modest expression and discreetly flattered his house.

As expected, Black's smile grew even wider.

"Ahem!"

Seeing that the Slytherin old-timer and the young student were about to start complimenting each other, Dilys Derwent cleared her throat and pointed at Dumbledore's desk with her long, thick wand.

"Child, Dumbledore is out on business. He should be back soon. You must be tired after a full day of classes. Why don't you sit in his chair and rest for a while?"

She paused, then smiled.

"If you're lucky, you might even find some snacks in his drawer."

"Thank you, but that would be too rude. I can just wait here."

Klein instinctively caught a whiff of a trap and declined without hesitation.

"Uh..."

Dilys Derwent was at a loss for words. She seemed not to have expected this.

This wasn't quite how she'd imagined things going.

"Then why not have a look at some books? Dumbledore has many valuable books in his private collection. I've heard you're a clever boy. Some of them might help you master your talents. Don't worry, he won't mind."

At that moment, the portrait on the far left, wearing a kindly smile, spoke up. When Klein looked tempted, the old man gave him a playful wink.

"Oh, so that's what this is about."

Klein looked excited on the outside, but remained perfectly calm inside.

He discreetly glanced over Dumbledore's desk and saw several thick books lying there in disarray.

"How unimaginative."

Suppressing a sneer, Klein walked over to Dumbledore's bookshelf.

Sure enough, among the usual spell books and Alchemy Formulas, five genuine Dark Magic Books were hidden on the shelf.

Their intentions were obvious. This was a test.

If Klein had truly been an exceptionally talented eleven-year-old, Dumbledore's "trap" wouldn't have been all that crude.

But unfortunately, he wasn't.

Still...

This worked out just fine.

Having figured out what was going on, Klein's lips curved slightly upward. Under the full attention of the past Headmasters, he passed over the ordinary magic books and reached for a black book tucked into the corner of the shelf.