A Spellcasting Medium More Perfect Than a Wand

Unlike Ron and Draco, who were clapping excitedly, Percy and Hermione's brows furrowed with Harry's words, just like Gemma.

"Harry, you need to learn to respect authority. Once you're out in society, no one will—" Percy's words caught in his throat as he realized his theory didn't hold up with Harry.

Fudge's favoritism was obvious to anyone with eyes.

"Magic is authority. We're wizards, Percy," Harry said.

Hermione's brow furrowed even tighter, but Gemma's face lit up with a smile again.

"Thank you, Harry, for making me understand this... no, I just forgot for a moment."

Her ice-blue eyes, seemingly approachable yet distant, thawed.

—Wait, sis?

—How'd you cave so fast? I don't even have a Veela trait.

—If you don't resist, how am I supposed to do my mission?

Harry was speechless.

He actually had a rough idea of the situation.

Dumbledore had protected this country too well, and modern magic made it hard to show gaps in combat power.

In this country, even Voldemort had to organize Death Eaters; he wouldn't dare try a one-man suppression tactic.

The legendary duel between Grindelwald and Dumbledore had been kept outside the country's borders. The few wizards lucky enough to witness it were either old or had died during Voldemort's rise.

Compared to ancient magic, which casually ripped up mountains to smash people and competed over who made the bigger crater, low-to-mid-tier fights relied on hand speed and footwork. Modern magic, mainly mechanism-based, made it hard to see the difference.

This led to a widespread lack of accurate understanding of top-tier wizard combat power in this country.

Dumbledore was too easygoing. When the Ministry of Magic wanted him to act against Grindelwald, he let them put a monitoring ring on him and obeyed orders to stop teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.

It wasn't until Harry, the Leviathan of Knockturn Alley, crushed a large group of dark wizards and walked away unscathed that the Ministry realized a powerful wizard's combat strength couldn't be matched by sheer numbers.

Gemma likely came from a family that wasn't top-tier. Despite her excellent grades and high magical skill, nearing graduation, she didn't dare offend anyone and was restrained as a prefect.

Now her cognitive barrier was broken. She realized her magic could be turned into productivity, allowing her to support herself independently even without breaking the law.

But... Percy and Hermione still frowned, looking disapproving.

—What do I care? Do I need their approval?

—I'm not some love-starved bird-man.

Disdain flickered in Harry's eyes as he swallowed a piece of lamb chop in one bite.

He prepared to enjoy his rare, free meal time.

[Ding ding ding! Long-term mission [Shatter Perceptions] triggered. Make your future retainers understand what a top-tier wizard is. Settlement once a year.]

—You're seriously undermining me right now?

"You seem a bit confused?"

Harry smiled as he looked at Percy and Hermione.

"Think outside the box. Magic can't create food out of nothing, but it can make it expand..."

Meanwhile, deep in the Forbidden Forest.

"What a shame."

A black-haired man wearing a Silver Crown, immune to the power of bare flesh, sighed, his long, pale fingers caressing the body.

"Just as I discovered that a Horcrux can shape a vessel—so compatible, so perfect—I have to abandon it."

"'As long as you're a wizard, you should be able to use almost any tool to express your magic, but the best results always come from the closest bond between wizard and wand'—Ollivander, you were wrong."

"The Horcrux is the wizard's best casting medium. I don't need that little stick anymore."

The man had red-tinged sclera, a distorted, blurry face, and his body's outline steamed with ominous magic.

Grass withered yellow at his touch; the earth cracked.

A calf-sized, terrifying Acromantula, after being brushed by his magic, turned into a lifeless specimen, crumbling to ash.

This was a 4X-class magical creature, widely recognized as dangerous, requiring specialized knowledge and a skilled wizard to handle.

"Pity. I have to return to that frail, weak body and waste effort stockpiling life force."

"So many Acromantulas, Rubeus. I really want to thank you in person."

The moment his words fell, the crown atop his head fell, slipping into a crack in the earth.

The grass returned to life; the earth's wounds healed.

That inhuman body dissolved in an instant into black smoke, matching the night.

The Hagrid mentioned was currently hanging out with Sirius.

"Your motorcycle's still at my place."

"Motorcycle..." Sirius Black recalled the happy times during the summer of sixth year when he and James had pranked Muggle police officers.

His gaze also involuntarily fell on Harry.

"He's so tall... I almost thought it was James."

"No, his smile isn't the same—it's more like Dumbledore's."

"He's also sturdier, more upright, more handsome, with softer features."

"But still... how wonderful, even in Slytherin, his friends are still Gryffindors."

"Hey, there's a girl among them."

"Her hair's a mess and her front teeth are too long, but her features aren't bad."

Sirius's words made Hagrid sigh, "Yeah, it really is wonderful."

"Wait, who's that pale-faced brat?" Sirius recognized him but couldn't believe the answer he'd arrived at.

"Malfoy's evil little spawn!" Hagrid's face darkened, "He must be looking for revenge."

"What do you mean, revenge?" Sirius's anger faltered, "Is Malfoy that loyal to You-Know-Who?"

The Black and Malfoy families were fairly close by marriage; he understood Malfoy's nature—never taking a fixed stance, always standing behind the victor.

It was hard to imagine that Malfoy, now the most thoroughly cut off from Muggles, had once risen to power through them, and that one of his ancestors had even proposed to the Queen, only to be rejected.

Lucius Malfoy put away the letter in his hand.

His heart was filled with joy at finally having an heir worthy of the name, and lamentation over his own impending fate.

"What's wrong with Draco..." Narcissa noticed her husband's unease, "Lucius, what's happened?"

"Draco has finally matured. He knows he should only stand behind the victor. More mature than I am. Not swayed by hatred." Lucius Malfoy forced a smile, "Narcissa... I'm afraid this time I really will be going to Azkaban to see your sister."

He didn't notice a strand of hair on the polished floor that, in the past, would have vanished before it even landed.

Meanwhile, in the Hogwarts Headmaster's office.

"You're not going to send Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban? Where did you put that dark magic artifact?"

"Why are you hiring Sirius Black!"

"Letting the Ministry of Magic plant an employee at Hogwarts—have you lost your mind?"

Hakip huffed at Dumbledore.

Snape's attitude provoked discontent among nearly all the headmaster portraits hanging on the walls, except for Phineas, who was from Slytherin.

"You should know your place."

"Dumbledore is the headmaster."

"Dumbledore is the best among us."

"He always has his reasons."

Snape sneered at this, "You're going to let these dead men speak for you?"

Faced with the huffing, Dumbledore remained perfectly calm.

He said with a smile, "I do have my reasons."

"A Malfoy patriarch in prison and one who sides with us have different values."

"That artifact has nothing to do with you. Don't let prejudice blind you—Sirius is excellent."

"Finally, why not be bold? Tonks was one of ours from the start, wasn't she?"

"Her, a Hufflepuff? A little girl who lacks a single N.E.W.T. certificate and only got into the Auror office through her Metamorphmagus talent?" Snape's pupils contracted.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "You should admit, she never took your advanced class. She lacked the crucial Potions certificate because you rejected a student whose O.W.L.s transcript showed an E that should have been accepted."