Voldemort Decides to Storm the Podium

"Disgusting. The Minister for Magic is trying to ride Harry's coattails, too." Hermione snorted. "Dumbledore really is useless as a headmaster. He just lets all sorts of riffraff into the school."

"Hey, Tonks is my cousin." Draco could tell she was still making pointed remarks.

"It's so annoying. The Daily Prophet is practically an academic journal now. The worst part is, I actually like it," Ron said, turning a page. "[Spider Walk]—swallow a live spider... That's disgusting. It lets you crawl on walls..."

For a moment, he was tempted. It would let him walk on walls like Harry.

"You can wait and pick one that doesn't involve eating spiders," Neville said. "Almost the entire Wizarding World is simplifying magic now, mainly to imitate Harry's unusual abilities—immense strength and walking against gravity—in hopes of making the papers and eventually getting their names and spells into Modern Magical History."

"This spell's not bad. [Slick Feet]. You only need to carry a bottle of oil, and the incantation is simple, too. Just point your wand diagonally downward." Draco had started leafing through the paper as well. "It makes your opponent lose their footing and fall over."

"I recommend this one, [Glide Spell]," Ron suggested. "It just wastes a few umbrellas."

In most cases, materials used to lower the requirements for casting a spell were destroyed once the spell's effects wore off, making them impossible to reuse and difficult to repair with a Mending Charm.

In severe cases, they even disappeared outright, as if they had been hit by a [Vanishing Spell].

"Then you might as well learn [Feather Fall]. All you need is a bird's feather." Hermione rolled her eyes. "If it's a Phoenix Feather, you can even reuse it."

"But that only makes you lighter. It doesn't let you glide," Ron retorted.

What had happened in the library was merely a microcosm of the entire Wizarding World.

In the staff common room.

"I think Hogwarts should try admitting Squib students. Some of them might get past the [Eschew Materials] hurdle and become real witches and wizards," proposed Professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff.

"And then become incompetent wizards?" Snape shook his head. "We should acknowledge the gap in talent. It's true that magic grows with practice, and Squibs simply haven't had a way to practice before. But if it takes them every ounce of effort just to enter the world of magic, how could they possibly progress further? That would be real cruelty."

"We can't give them false hope and delude them."

"Let's get back to academic matters," Professor Flitwick interrupted. "For instance, using everlasting Gubraithian Fire as the material for a Fire-Making Spell."

"Transfiguration Spells are much easier to simplify," Professor McGonagall said. "If you want to turn something into a needle, use a needle as the casting material. But that only works for basic transfigurations, small ones. Using an animal the size of your palm as the casting material is easy enough, but something a little larger, like a hedgehog or a wild boar—"

"With all due respect, Minerva," Professor Sprout cut in, "that's already Advanced Class material. Not every wizard can take Advanced Class."

In the Hog's Head Inn in Hogsmeade, next to Hogwarts, a merchant with bandages covering half his face took out a metal box about the size of his palm.

"This is a Magic Box. It has a permanent Undetectable Extension Charm and comes with all the common casting materials on the market."

"With this, you'll be as good as a qualified wizard."

In London, inside the newly renovated Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley.

The display cabinets were full of ornaments, making the place look like a jewelry shop. There were no longer any Dark Magic objects inside.

A ring set with a ruby that seemed to burn with flames had a label beneath it:

[Reusable casting material, a boon for fire spells]

The Minister for Magic's office.

Fudge frowned at a sheet of parchment while Umbridge stood nervously beside him.

"[Super Cleaning Charm], a high-grade reusable casting material—Mrs. Scour's brand all-purpose magical stain remover. Dolores Umbridge, this is supposed to be under my name. What the hell kind of spell did you simplify?"

"You want everyone to think I'm a housewife?"

"Minister," Umbridge hurriedly explained, "Scourgify is one of Harry Potter's most commonly used spells, and... Mrs. Scour's brand all-purpose magical stain remover is a well-known product. They're willing to provide sponsorship worth over 100,000 Galleons."

"Besides, letting everyone think I enjoy doing housework will make me seem more approachable."

Fudge straightened his tie.

"That's settled, then."

"When I go to Hogwarts, I'll introduce myself and my [Mrs. Scour's Cleaning Charm] at the same time."

"The Minister for Magic is coming to Hogwarts?"

Inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts Office, the Steam Figure sneered.

"Quirinus, don't you think... Harry Potter is becoming more and more dangerous?"

"Dumbledore's planning to raise a stronger, younger version of himself, one who understands Muggle technology better."

"If this keeps up, when people mention my name, they'll only remember me as someone Harry Potter defeated."

"I've decided. I'll show myself. I'll use Potter's life as the signal flare announcing my return!"

—Master, are you in your right mind?

Quirrell increasingly suspected that Moon's Magic had only made Voldemort more deranged.

A seemingly rational kind of derangement.

He even began to miss the master who used to punish him at the drop of a hat and drain his life force.

"Master... but our strength..." he reminded him cautiously.

If they really struck, they were more likely to be smashed to pieces by the terrifying Savior's fist.

"Then I'll spare Harry Potter's miserable life!" The Moon-White Steam began to boil. "I'll just have to settle for Cornelius Fudge. The British Minister for Magic is barely worthy of my status."

"Quirinus, when the time comes—"

"Master, we still have to steal the [Philosopher's Stone]," Quirrell reminded him again.

He was much bolder now. Sometimes, he even found himself thinking that he was Voldemort's master.

"That's just like you, Quirinus, always so thoughtful." The Steam Figure's voice was gentle. "Then you won't need to act. I can handle it myself. I wouldn't want you exposed over a mere Fudge—Dumbledore would surely laugh at me."

"Yes."

—Tom, haven't we been exposed for ages?

Quirrell shivered.

—No, Master.

—Thank goodness the master isn't inside my head now.

Quirrell deftly used [Occlumency] to shut away his disrespectful thoughts.

Over the past month, he felt his [Occlumency] skills had improved by leaps and bounds.

Harry knew nothing of Voldemort's schemes.

The Dogskin Book hadn't generated a quest to save Fudge.

The [Gatekeeper Grandpa Fei] quest had long since been completed, as simplified magic became a trend.

Now, Squibs only had to worry that there was too much magic to learn.

Some Squibs who had been driven out of the Wizarding World by their families had also been welcomed back.

As long as they had a powerful magical substance like a Phoenix Feather, a suitable simplified spell, and a wand, a Squib could pass themselves off as a qualified wizard.

He was now hesitating over whether to update his title.