Of all the wizards present, only Professor McGonagall saw through Isaac at a glance.
The others lacked Professor McGonagall's eye, but some still found him strangely familiar.
Especially the Ministry of Magic wizards from Pure-blood families.
Back when Grindelwald and his followers had rampaged across Europe, they had never set foot in Britain.
But Europe's Pure-blood families were a close-knit circle.
They were all related by marriage. Grindelwald might not have reached Britain, but how could they have heard nothing?
Besides, Europe's Pure-blood wizard families had been Grindelwald's core supporters.
So among the Ministry's Pure-blood wizards, one or two were bound to think Isaac looked familiar.
Recognizing something familiar was one thing. Suddenly recalling Grindelwald, who had dominated the European continent decades ago, was another.
Perhaps if Isaac had looked more like Tom, those Ministry officials would have remembered the terror of living under Voldemort.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Fudge was clearly among those who saw nothing familiar in Isaac, while Umbridge beside him was not a Pure-blood wizard at all.
Neither recognized the origins of Isaac's version of Protego Fiendfyre. All they saw was a young wizard who had not even started school yet—and a genius.
A genuine genius.
"Truly outstanding elemental magic. I have to be honest: even I couldn't have done better."
Fudge was not being modest. He meant it. He could tell Isaac's spell was a variation of the Fire-Making Spell.
But there was no chance he could reproduce it.
Fudge could also tell one thing: Isaac's "self-created" spell was certainly not Dark Magic. It did not even qualify as a jinx.
The Wizarding World had an interesting way of defining and grading Dark Magic.
The first tier was jinxes.
Jinxes were the least harmful offensive spells, designed to cause brief inconvenience, embarrassment, minor obstruction, or prank-like trouble.
They were not intended to cause lasting harm and sat at the fringes of Dark Magic.
The Ministry of Magic regulated jinxes least strictly. Unless used for sustained, malicious harassment, they generally drew no serious punishment—often no punishment at all.
Defense Against the Dark Arts classes taught basic ways to resist them.
The Jelly-Legs Jinx, Leg-Locker Curse, Impediment Jinx, Dancing Feet Spell (Tarantallegra), Trip Jinx, and Densaugeo all fell into that category.
They were classified as mild Dark Magic.
Yes, by that definition, just about everyone in the Wizarding World had used Dark Magic.
Above jinxes came Hexes: darker offensive magic designed to inflict definite, prolonged pain, discomfort, or bodily harm.
Hexes carried a clear intent to attack. They were offensive Dark Magic in the truest sense.
Spells such as Levicorpus and the Knee-Reversal Hex fell into this category.
The final tier of offensive Dark Magic was Curses, classified as severe Dark Magic.
Curses were divided into two groups: the Unforgivable Curses, and spells such as Sectumsempra, the Fiendfyre Curse, the Blood Curse, and the Disemboweling Curse.
The chief distinction between moderate and severe Dark Magic was that spells like Sectumsempra could take a life with terrifying ease.
Casting them also required intensely negative emotions.
And here was the interesting part.
In sheer destructive power, Isaac's version of Protego Fiendfyre far surpassed jinxes and Hexes.
Yet this version grew out of the Fire-Making Spell with Transfiguration added. It could be classified as elemental magic or as a combat application of Transfiguration.
The one thing it was not was Dark Magic.
And that was good!
In the British Wizarding World, Dark Magic was a political minefield.
Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts classes sometimes taught jinxes and even Hexes.
Those spells were essential for dealing with certain Dark Magic creatures.
If students were not taught them, were they supposed to wait for death when danger struck?
Yet the entire British Wizarding World treated Dark Magic as something best left unspoken.
So even when professors taught it, the subject had to be called Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The class had to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, not Dark Magic.
The rule was simple: professors could teach it, students could learn it, and students could even study it secretly. They just could not say so openly.
Dark Magic had become something Britain refused to weigh honestly.
Isaac's Protego Fiendfyre, on the other hand, was elemental magic.
Elemental magic was good. Elemental magic ought to be studied!
Fudge could tell at a glance that the spell was difficult, but he saw no problem with that.
In fact, as far as Fudge was concerned, the harder Isaac's spell was, the better.
The harder it was, the more valuable it would be to promote. The fewer people who mastered it, the more it would prove what a keen eye Fudge had for talent.
Politicians never hesitated to invest in geniuses, especially in the Wizarding World, where power decided everything.
Isaac was plainly on course to become another Dumbledore. Fudge was convinced that, with such talent, he would one day be a wizard every bit as powerful.
And Isaac was so mature and considerate.
What more was there to say? Invest in him!
It was worth noting that Fudge had never feared a wizard's power. What he feared was Dumbledore's standing in the Wizarding World.
With Isaac, if Fudge played his cards right, the more powerful the boy became, the better it would be for him.
After all, he had spotted Isaac Waldore's talent before the boy had even started school!
With a little publicity, Fudge could become known as the man who had discovered Waldore.
No one would turn down prestige that fell into their lap. Fudge practically wished Isaac could become Britain's finest wizard on the spot.
Even Dumbledore looked pleasing to Fudge now.
"Isaac, you're right. You need to focus on your studies. Hogwarts is the best place for you to grow.
"Learn all you can from your professors. I'll be waiting in my office for your paper!"
And with that, Fudge settled the matter. He had "chosen" to let Isaac remain at Hogwarts, purely for the young wizard's education.
He smiled, openly and with delight.
He had no idea how much material for publicity this visit to Hogwarts had handed him.
Coming to Hogwarts had been the right decision. What a lucky place!
Fudge had completely forgotten how reluctant he had felt on the way there.
People could not even sympathize with who they had been a few hours ago.
"Of course, Minister. If I'm fortunate enough to write a paper of real quality, I'll be sure to ask you to read it."
Isaac agreed at once, then took Fudge's hand.
As the large hand clasped the small one, it looked for all the world like a passing of the torch between generations. What, the Minister did not want to pass it on?
Since when the hell was that up to the Minister?