Hogwarts Never Lacks Exceptionally Talented Students

It must be said.

Aside from his sharp tongue and his generally unlikable appearance and demeanor, Professor Snape actually possessed many other virtues.

For instance, the amount of Galleons he had left for Ian was quite substantial.

Although purchasing all the necessary supplies today had cost a fair bit, the coin purse had clearly been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm; it still contained a staggering fortune of one hundred and fifty Galleons!

Do not underestimate this figure.

An ordinary civil servant at the Ministry of Magic would likely need two months of salary to earn that amount, and that is assuming they saved every penny without spending a single Knut.

One must remember.

Ron's family couldn't even afford seven Galleons for a wand.

It is easy to imagine.

One hundred and fifty Galleons, whether for a young wizard or an adult, was a sum that would make many people green with envy.

"Hiss, even if my parents really did 'sacrifice themselves' for my start, I shouldn't feel this guilty, should I?" Ian felt the situation was becoming increasingly suspicious. Could his mother really be a clone of Lily Potter?

Don't do this to me!

It's only the nineties!

Neither the Muggle nor the wizarding world should have that kind of technology!

"The more I think about it, the more terrifying it gets! Truly terrifying!"

Though Ian felt uneasy, he was currently more focused on learning magic.

After moving his belongings into the tidy little wooden cabin provided by Snape, Ian couldn't wait to pull out his wand and pick up the unavoidable Hogwarts textbook—The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1.

At dusk.

The last glow of the sunset had already vanished at the edge of the sky.

The arrival of night prompted Ian to choose the simplest and most frequently used spell.

"Lumos!"

Following the instructions in the textbook, Ian focused his attention, synchronized his thoughts with his wand, took a deep breath, and softly recited the incantation.

The next moment.

A glimmer of light shone from the tip of his wand.

It was fleeting.

It extinguished very quickly.

This was clearly an unsuccessful attempt at a spell, but Ian did not feel the slightest bit discouraged; instead, his eyes lit up with a glow of excitement.

When it comes to learning.

Most people are held back by various reasons, unable to progress or unable to perceive their own progress. This is the biggest reason why many find it difficult to persist in learning any subject.

However.

For Ian.

This was not a problem to worry about.

[Lumos (Level 0): 3/50]

Following the failed attempt, a new skill entry had appeared on Ian's system panel; he had experienced similar processes more than once before.

"It seems my magical talent isn't weak at all!"

Looking at the information on the panel.

Ian was incredibly excited.

Gaining three points of proficiency from a single attempt meant that in fewer than twenty tries, he would master this spell and reach the most basic, introductory level.

When the learning of a skill can be quantified by numbers.

It is just like a god revealing their health bar.

"Lumos!"

"Lumos!"

"Lumos!"

Inside the empty wooden cabin.

White light flickered on and off.

Each repeated attempt was a testament to Ian's passion for magic.

There was also an anticipation of what kind of [Extraordinary Characteristics] magic might give birth to.

Hogwarts.

The Headmaster's office.

As the most powerful wizard in the magical world today, Dumbledore sat behind a solid wood desk, dressed in old, patterned pajamas like an ordinary old man.

The desk lamp was not connected to any wires, yet it emitted a steady, constant glow reminiscent of an old-fashioned oil lamp. In the center of the desk lay an open book.

[Aurora Grindelwald]

Dumbledore's gaze remained fixed on one of the many dazzling names within the book, his aged yet bright eyes shimmering beneath his silver spectacles.

"Knock, knock, knock."

His fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk, as if he were deep in thought. For an old man, staying up so late surely meant he was troubled by some perplexing matter.

"Rumble—"

The sound of mechanisms turning echoed through the room.

Dumbledore did not look up.

A figure hurried into the Headmaster's office through the main entrance.

"Albus, you didn't tell me beforehand that Ian was a natural Legilimens!" Snape's face was flushed with anger, his posture one of coming to settle a score.

Faced with the accusation that rang throughout the office, the figures in the portraits on the walls covered their ears, though a few leaned closer to the edges of their frames as if eager to watch the drama unfold.

"I believe that some things are only truly surprises when you discover them for yourself. Just as I did not tell Mr. Prince about the inseparable connection between you and him."

Dumbledore finally looked up, his voice steady and soft. With a natural, gentle wave of his hand, the book on the desk automatically closed.

[Book of Admittance]

That was the name of the book.

The name of every student who would attend Hogwarts was written in it by the [Quill of Acceptance]. For a long time, the Hogwarts enrollment system had relied on these two alchemical artifacts to function.

Of course.

The book Dumbledore had placed on his desk was naturally not the original [Book of Admittance], but perhaps merely a copy linked to it. After all, the [Book of Admittance] and the [Quill of Acceptance] had always been kept in a locked, small tower that no student had ever visited.

"His condition is not normal!"

Snape stood in the center of the office, his expression tinged with lingering fear. "Occlumency had absolutely no effect; I tried with all my might more than once."

"He said he could only perceive my emotions, but I feel he is capable of far more than that. Albus, I have never seen such an unreasonable form of Legilimency."

Snape's eyes were locked onto Dumbledore.

"Facts prove that some people are indeed unimaginably gifted, Severus. I think that is something you should find easy to understand." Dumbledore's expression remained unchanged.

He had clearly sensed the unusual nature of Ian long ago.

"It is not as if I have never seen a natural Legilimens before, but their minds never possessed such overbearing aggression. His talent is simply too dangerous!"

Snape's expression was extremely serious and earnest, his voice carrying a hint of undisguised worry. His gaze never once shifted from Dumbledore.

That stare, which seemed as if it might swallow Dumbledore whole, made the old man sit up a bit uncomfortably.

"Being gifted is not a bad thing."

Dumbledore's voice remained soft.

"We had an agreement! He only needed to attend school normally and then graduate to live an ordinary life! Damn it! Next year, you are going to bring that person into the school!"

"In times like these, the last thing he needs is some extraordinary talent. He only needs to be like those mediocre students, to have a plain life that doesn't need to be anything spectacular!"

When Snape spoke, it felt as though he were gritting his teeth.

"I believe that Mr. Prince's life does not require any of us to decide it for him." Dumbledore could understand Snape's slightly reactive, trauma-driven response.

However.

He did not agree with Snape's arrangements. "That is a right that even parents do not possess. I know what you are thinking, and I advise you to abandon such thoughts."

Dumbledore looked directly at Snape.

Snape remained silent.

A moment later.

"He will hate you."

Dumbledore said softly.

"Do you think I care?"

Snape sneered.

"Severus, if long years have taught me anything, it is to never presume that one is absolutely correct. You must know that attempting to influence another's life with one's own will is incredibly foolish."

"No matter how powerful the magic, it cannot change the bitter fruit that such actions will sow." Dumbledore's silver spectacles reflected the light from the desk lamp and the silhouette of Snape.

"We are both failures; what right do we have to decide what constitutes a 'correct' life?" Dumbledore's words caused Snape's expression to shift as rapidly as a performer changing masks.

"You are certainly no failure; you are the greatest wizard in the world, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Even now, many in the wizarding world fear your power."

"Albus, excessive humility only makes one seem hypocritical."

Snape let out a cold snort, his tone blunt and uncompromising.

Dumbledore shook his head, neither confirming nor denying the remark.

"In truth, I told you of his existence not because I wanted you to change him, but quite the opposite—I wanted to see if you would be changed by him."

"Severus, it is you who needs him, not he who needs you."

Dumbledore's words left Snape deeply irritated.

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting!"

Snape's voice rose several octaves.

Dumbledore merely responded with a smile.

"And I don't need you to script my life for me, either!"

Snape stared directly into Dumbledore's eyes.

"Whatever scheme you're hatching, you need to swear to me—make an Unbreakable Vow—and tell me that he is not a part of your plan."

Snape clearly did not place much trust in Dumbledore.

"Firstly, you and many others overestimate my wisdom far too much. Secondly, if it would put your mind at ease... then of course."

Dumbledore shrugged helplessly and drew the wand he had set aside. In this magical world, the Unbreakable Vow was a significant magical rule.

It required two people to stand before a witness, point their wands at one another, and state the terms of their oath. Once the vow was spoken and accepted, it forged an almost unbreakable bond between the two. If the oath-taker attempted to break it, they would pay a terrible price.

"Are you satisfied now?"

He put his wand away.

Dumbledore did not show the slightest hint of anger.

"I don't know what you're planning, wanting to bring that fellow into the school, but regardless, I hope you can truly do what a Hogwarts Headmaster is supposed to do."

"Protect the safety of every student."

Under the influence of the Unbreakable Vow, Snape's expression finally softened, though it was clear he still harbored a degree of dissatisfaction and suspicion regarding some of Dumbledore's choices.

"That is my duty."

Dumbledore's voice was steady and powerful.

It gave the impression of someone worthy of trust.

"Once that fellow arrives, I will be watching him."

Snape flicked his robes, pulled a long face, and turned to leave. His figure quickly vanished from the office, leaving Dumbledore to look back down at the copy of the Book of Admittance on his desk.

"Dumbledore! That Snape fellow has really changed!"

"Indecisive! Truly a disgrace to Slytherin! I feel he should have been sorted into Hufflepuff from the start!"

"I am quite curious to see that child. Severus's Occlumency has always been formidable; to think there is a natural Legilimens who could actually make him feel fear?"

"No matter how impressive the talent, can it compare to mine? Hogwarts has never lacked students with extraordinary gifts!"

After Snape departed, the group of former Hogwarts headmasters on the walls began to chatter in a heated discussion. The noisy atmosphere did not affect Dumbledore's train of thought.

He gently waved his hand again, and the book on the desk flipped open rapidly.

The same name appeared.

The same contemplation followed.

[Aurora Grindelwald]

After first seeing this name appear in the Book of Admittance, Dumbledore had visited an old friend at Nurmengard. The surname clearly originated from that first Dark Lord.

Gellert Grindelwald.

The person in the Book of Admittance was not a direct descendant of Gellert Grindelwald, but a blood relative who had, for unknown reasons, inherited Gellert Grindelwald's rare talent.

In fact, not long ago, the lesson Dumbledore had preached to Snape was a philosophy he had adopted after being slightly influenced by that visit to Gellert Grindelwald.

"Albus, your failures and mine both stem from wanting to change too many things and too many people, without realizing that we are merely wizards who happen to be a bit more powerful."

"Wizards can divert fate, but do not presume to decide it... Now, I only wish for this child to walk her own path as a witch, carrying the thoughts I have come to reflect upon."

These were Gellert Grindelwald's exact words to Dumbledore.

They were spoken with a hint of pleading, making it truly difficult for Dumbledore to refuse.

However.

The reason he remained hesitant and doubtful now was entirely because Dumbledore truly could not judge whether there was some ulterior motive behind Gellert Grindelwald's words.

Admittedly.

Gellert Grindelwald might not lie to him, but he was certainly capable of misleading him. There was likely no one in this world who understood the art of language better than Gellert Grindelwald.

Previously, when he said he was not as clever as others imagined, it was truly not Dumbledore being modest or hypocritical; he had been left with many, many regrets throughout his life because he had been too clever by half.

Precisely because of this.

Dumbledore felt a resonance with the two statements Gellert Grindelwald had made above.

And it was also precisely because of this.

That Dumbledore worried about what kind of mischief Gellert Grindelwald was trying to stir up again.

One could not blame him for being suspicious.

It was mainly because.

After spending many years in Nurmengard, the changes in Gellert Grindelwald were truly far greater than Dumbledore had imagined. Dumbledore remembered that Gellert Grindelwald's greatest change occurred that year.

"1979..."

It was on a certain day in that very year.

The despondent Gellert Grindelwald seemed to have rediscovered the high spirits of his youth. That was the first time in many years that Dumbledore had been so startled he rushed to Nurmengard to see his old friend.

"Dumbledore, I hope that you can witness the changes in this world with me, rather than preventing them."

"You can stop me, stop many things, stop that clown called Tom, but, Albus, neither you nor I can stop the rise of a legend."

It was that year.

Seeming to have regained his vitality, having even decorated the place where he lived and eating steak, a Gellert Grindelwald who looked twenty or thirty years younger gave Dumbledore a meaningful... warning.

And this year.

It was precisely the year that the children born in 1979 were entering school.

"Is the legend you spoke of your descendant?" Dumbledore raised his hand to gently stroke the name on the Book of Admittance, his low murmur likely audible only to himself.