Simplified Magic Even Squibs Could Use

"What! Nicolas Flamel is our neighbor! I was that close to him!"

"What! He's already moved away!"

Ron let out a howl at the ceiling.

Draco sneered. "Weasley, what are you bragging about? At least you've still got Nicolas Flamel's door in your fish tank."

Hermione lowered her voice. "Do you want this getting around everywhere?"

"It doesn't matter if it gets out. They're planning to move their new home up into the clouds," Harry said.

There were few secrets at Hogwarts, especially secrets even Hagrid—who had grown up drinking Veritaserum—knew.

Once Hagrid knew, that meant the exposure was part of the plan, too.

Hagrid had been able to keep it secret before because Dumbledore had deliberately sent him off to build a wall with Professor Kettleburn.

"So... I can..."

Excitement flickered in Ron's brown eyes.

November had arrived after Halloween.

The weather had turned bitterly cold. The Forbidden Forest and the surrounding mountains were blanketed in snow, the Black Lake was covered in thick ice, and an icy wind seemed to howl through the corridors without pause.

From the Slytherin Common Room, even the ice floes at the bottom of the lake were visible.

Yet despite the cold, Ron still stood shivering by the stairway.

He told everyone he met about his encounter with Nicolas Flamel.

Everyone was willing to stop and listen.

Many wondered what kind of blessed place Saint Catchpole Village must be. The Weasley family, who lived nearby, had been blessed with many children; first, Peter Pettigrew, a Death Eater who would rather turn into a rat than be caught, had gone into hiding there, and now Nicolas Flamel, an immortal, had chosen it as his retreat.

But after the story had been told over and over, it had become almost unrecognizable.

Nicolas Flamel, no bigger than a palm, had run over to Ron's room and invited him to visit his house. Under the moonlight, Ron had shrunk down, faced an attack by the mysterious kingdom of ant-men, turned the tide by pulling the kingdom's holy sword from a stone, and saved the entire kingdom. Then, as dusk fell, he had returned home and been given the stone that had once held the kingdom's holy sword.

It was practically Arthur and the Minimoys.

But there really were people in the castle who believed Ron's story.

The Patil Twins, Indian girls in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff were among its biggest fans.

"Could that be the legendary Avalon?"

"Maybe Ron pulled the Sword in the Stone."

"Ron's father is named Arthur, so there's a family resemblance..."

In the end, though, the buzz around Ron's story was cut short.

Not by the Quidditch Match, nor by the approaching Christmas holidays.

But by...

Filch had successfully used magic!

And the fact that he was a Squib had been exposed, too.

A squib was a firework that had gunpowder but failed to go off when lit.

The Wizarding World used the term to refer to people with wizarding blood who had no magical ability.

Like wizards, these people could see things invisible to Muggles, but that was where their abilities ended.

There was hardly a Squib who didn't long to become a wizard and cast spells.

"No wonder he hates students so much and is always trying to bring back corporal punishment. Those torture devices in his office are still sparkling. He's jealous."

Ron didn't even have time to complain that his own story had been forgotten.

Right now, in the fourth-floor corridor,

Filch, with cat ears conjured by Halloween magic, had dropped to his knees in front of Harry.

[ Ding, ding, ding! Quest [Gatekeeper Grandpa Fei's Request] triggered ]

[ The great Savior brings the Squibs the dawn of hope. Please do not hesitate to spread your wisdom and kindle the lamp of hope ]

[ Reward: 50 experience points, Silver Talent Fragment · 1 ]

--What the hell is "spread your wisdom"? Spread it so far it leaks out as brain fluid?

--I create magic even Squibs can use, and the reward is only silver?

--Did you seriously swallow my reward?

The Dogskin Book remained silent as ever.

"King Harry, please agree to help my old man." Mrs. Norris meowed, her scarlet eyes fixed firmly on Harry.

--Your old man?

Even though he'd heard it many times, Harry couldn't help feeling shocked.

He remained warm and amiable. "I have been planning to simplify magic even further. Besides spells, wands, and wand movements, I want to add materials, gestures, and rituals."

"I've only gotten as far as materials so far. Halloween makeup magic uses cotton and cloth to lower the requirements for casting."

Harry had already guessed that the more conditions a spell had, the easier it would be for a Squib to learn.

That was also why the reward was so low.

He already had the relevant magical knowledge. All he needed was practice.

"Which spell are you simplifying next...?" Filch, the cat-eared old man, twitched his huge, lumpy nose, his eyes full of longing.

Everyone else couldn't help looking away, repelled by his appearance.

Harry, however, smiled as calmly as ever. "The Scourgify charm. A bar of soap, a wand that accepts you, and the cleaning magic of Wagadou. You can try it yourself."

Not every country used wands as a medium for casting spells. At Wagadou School of Magic in Africa, they taught magic that used gestures as its medium.

It was faster, more convenient, and harder to defend against, but weaker than wand magic.

However, the battles there mainly relied on a special kind of Transfiguration: students were fixed in the forms of elephants and leopards, switching between the two. It wasn't an Animagus transformation.

"Yes! I'm going to the library right now!" Filch said, beside himself with excitement.

He understood that this combination of simplified methods wasn't actually any more convenient than just cleaning with soap.

But at least he would truly be channeling magic, like a real wizard.

And at least he had a goal to work toward. Perhaps with enough practice, one day even a Squib would be able to cast spells by simply waving a wand and speaking an incantation.

After the cat-eared old man and Mrs. Norris disappeared, everyone looked at Harry with admiration.

They all understood what this meant.

They were witnessing history!

Witnessing a living legend! The Reincarnated Merlin!

The invention of magic that Squibs could use deserved its own page in History of Magic, and this achievement would become an eternal monument.

Honors of every kind would soon come his way.

If the Order of Merlin didn't award him a medal, no one would think Harry didn't deserve one. They'd think the Order of Merlin was blind.

Perhaps one day, people would stop saying "Merlin's beard" and start saying "Harry's fancy pants" instead!

"'The Order of Merlin Has Gone Blind'—that's a good headline."

For the first time, the library was packed. Ron spread open the Daily Prophet and nodded with satisfaction.

"They even considered giving Harry a second-class medal, on the grounds that he's too young. What a joke."

The Order of Merlin was an organization founded by Merlin in the Middle Ages. It established the ban on wizards using magic against Muggles, because Merlin believed wizards and Muggles should live in peace.

Today, though, the Order was really just part of the Wizengamot, the Wizarding World's highest court, which awarded medals in the Order's name.

Even so, it was quite an achievement.

Now almost everyone wanted to take part in this legend and leave their names in history.

Nearly every spellbook with "gestures" or "rituals" in its title had been checked out.

For the first time, Ravenclaw Tower was crowded with students from other houses, too.

"Gilderoy Lockhart." Hermione said his name with disgust. An issue of the Daily Prophet lay open in front of her, too. "'Here, I would like to offer Harry a word of advice: don't let fame go to your head...'"

"How disgusting. Harry was more famous than him when he was one year old."

"He just wants to ride on Harry's fame."

"I bet all the adventures in his books are stolen, too."

"My mum's a devoted fan of his," Ron chimed in. "But I guarantee she isn't anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Draco walked into the library.

Neville, Goyle, and Crabbe followed behind him.

They had just come back from the Trophy Room, where they'd seen the Honorary Alumni Award the school had given Harry.

"It's beautiful. You should've seen it—the trophy was carved from moonstone. It glows and sings whenever anyone comes near," Neville said admiringly. "Only a trophy like that is worthy of Harry."

"We're reading the newspaper," Ron said without looking up. "It says Fudge is coming to Hogwarts today, along with members of the Order of the Phoenix."