Salvation and Prejudice

The evening feast had not yet ended. Candlelight flickered in the hall, and the fragrance of wine hung over the tables.

After the new students had taken their seats, Dumbledore raised his glass and delivered a speech in his usual gentle tone.

Once the formalities were over, the professors gradually resumed their conversations.

Professor Babbling—the Ancient Runes scholar who always loved to stir up discussion—suddenly turned to Lin An, her smile carrying a hint of meaning.

"Professor Alvin seems to have no interest in the Savior himself?"

Her voice was not loud, yet it was enough to silence the entire high table.

Everyone's eyes turned toward him.

Lin An lifted his gaze slightly, his expression unchanged. "The Savior? You mean Harry Potter?"

"Of course." Babbling raised her brows. "If not for that child, the Dark Lord might still be ruling this world."

"I have always found that rather laughable," Lin An said blandly.

"Laughable?" Professor McGonagall frowned.

"A one-year-old child, whose magic had not even fully awakened, defeated the strongest Dark wizard in history? Do you truly believe such absurdity?"

The air in the hall froze.

Harry's name had always been a symbol of hope and legend.

No one had expected the new professor to challenge that myth in public.

"As everyone knows, Lily Potter used an ancient protective spell—Love's Contract Mark—through self-sacrifice, causing the curse to rebound," Babbling retorted. "That was precisely the miracle of Ancient Magic."

"I have never denied the existence of that magic." Lin An nodded. "I only find it strange that the world praises the child who survived rather than the mother who truly gave her life."

The entire table fell briefly silent.

The wineglass between Snape's fingers trembled faintly, his gaze dark.

Lin An continued, "What Lily Potter displayed was the highest form of Ancient Magic—self-sacrifice. For centuries, she alone successfully awakened that primal cosmic power. Even the Unspeakables of the Department of Mysteries failed to master Love Magic. If we are speaking of saving the world, then the true savior should have been her."

Babbling was left speechless.

Even Dumbledore paused what he was doing.

Flitwick asked softly, "If that is so well known, why did the Wizarding World still grant the title of Savior to that child?"

Lin An's gaze swept across the crowd. "The reason is simple—Lily Potter was Muggle-born."

The words landed like a bomb.

The air solidified. Even the crackle of the flames seemed piercing.

"Nonsense!" McGonagall slammed a hand on the table and rose. "The Savior was celebrated because the prophecy had long made it clear—the one to end the Dark Lord would be born as July died!"

"But very few people truly knew the contents of that prophecy." Lin An's tone remained as calm as water. "Other than Dumbledore and Snape, almost no one knew of it. Since the public had never heard the prophecy, why did they so completely believe the myth of a Savior? Only because that child bore the name Potter—a name belonging to an ancient pure-blood family."

McGonagall was momentarily speechless.

Babbling coughed lightly, wanting to ease the tension, only to find that the other professors had all fallen silent.

Lin An lifted his wineglass, his voice low but clear. "Discrimination does not always take the form of hatred. Sometimes, it hides beneath tradition and habit, draped in the guise of glory. Take Arthur Weasley, for example—a sincere wizard who loves the Muggle world, yet has never realized that he treats them as curious playthings. Even a benevolent gaze can still be one that looks down from above."

Flitwick appeared thoughtful, while McGonagall's expression stiffened.

Dumbledore finally spoke. "Lin An, the Wizarding World is not as dark as you believe. Lily is admired, and her sacrifice is engraved in everyone's hearts. It is simply that people wished to find a living symbol, something tangible upon which hope could rest. A child is easier to worship than the dead."

Lin An smiled faintly. "I have never doubted the headmaster's tolerance. But that tolerance stands at the top of the structure—you possess the right to forgive the world."

The hall sank into silence.

Several younger teachers looked embarrassed, while the older professors wore complicated expressions.

Hagrid, usually so cheerful, said softly, "No one denies that Mrs. Potter was great, but people would rather commemorate hope that is still alive."

"Living hope?" Lin An repeated softly. "Or a more convenient symbol?"

No one answered.

After a long silence, Flitwick offered a wry smile and tried to smooth things over. "Perhaps Professor Alvin merely wishes to remind us that history books should not be so thin."

Lin An nodded slightly. "I merely wish to remind you all that prejudice does not always exist through malice. It often takes the form of institutions, wears tradition as its shell, and takes root in silence. Even I am not exempt— the Bones family benefited from the system, and I too have profited from its corruption. Knowing its faults while still riding its winds—that is the greatest hypocrisy."

His voice was calm, yet sharp.

The professors' table was utterly silent.

Dumbledore sighed. "You are still as sharp as ever, Lin An. But this world may not be ready to hear the truth."

"The truth never needs preparation." Lin An rose and gave a slight bow.

"It only depends on whether the listener is willing to understand."

The night was like water, and the lights refracted through the wineglasses, casting countless shards of brilliance.

Lin An turned and left the high table, his steps steady and soundless.

Behind him, everyone watched him go, and no one spoke again.

When the students' laughter once more filled the hall, everything seemed to return to normal.

Yet that conversation, like a grain of sand, quietly settled into everyone's heart—

Inconspicuous, yet impossible to ignore forever.

Leaving the Great Hall, Lin An entered a corridor where the lights alternated between bright and dim.

He raised his head and looked toward the night sky.

The distant moonlight was silver, and the coordinates of the World Gate flickered in his mind.

"Ancient Magic, bloodline prejudice, the lie of the Savior... all of it is merely a framework."

"To truly break it, the rules must be rebuilt."

His wand spun lightly, and a point of light rose before falling into the distance like a shooting star.

It was a signal from the Moon Base—new research data was being transmitted back.

Lin An smiled faintly.

Truth's course had never ceased because of clamor.