The Birth of New Humans

"If Muggles really won that war, they would destroy all of us!"

An old wizard in one portrait shouted indignantly.

Lin An Alvin merely shook his head faintly, his tone calm to the point of indifference.

"No, they would not destroy us. At least, not immediately."

His gaze was profound, as if it had crossed the years and seen a future yet to come.

"Once Muggles win the war, they will not be satisfied with victory.

"They will be curious, jealous, and desirous—desirous of everything we possess.

"They will use science and reason to dissect magic, treating wizards as research subjects, as laboratory rats."

The portraits erupted in uproar.

"They will dissect us and analyze the source of magic within our bodies, our neural structures, and the traits of our souls.

"At first, they will only want to understand magic.

"But once they understand it, they will try to replicate it.

"I believe they will eventually succeed."

Lin An's voice was low and resolute. "They will find a way to give Muggles magic.

"At that time, new wizards will be born from Muggle society.

"I call them—a new magical race."

He paused for a moment, as though weighing every word.

"These 'New Humans' will combine science and magic to build an entirely new civilization.

"They will think with precision and build efficient systems, inheriting the logic of technology and the creativity of magic.

"As long as one percent of them awaken magical power, their numbers will still far exceed the total number of all wizards.

"That will be a new era—one that belongs to them, not us."

Phineas Black abruptly rose to his feet, nearly lunging out of his frame.

"Absurd! Pure fantasy! How could such a delusion, such blasphemy against magic, ever come true?"

"Calm down, Phineas."

Dumbledore set down his teacup. His tone was gentle, but it could not conceal the faint shock buried beneath it.

He knew that this young man was not boasting. Every word Lin An spoke seemed to have come from some distant future.

"You are merely proposing a possibility," Dumbledore said slowly. "The future has not yet been decided."

Lin An smiled faintly. "Perhaps. But trends never lie.

"The changing of civilizations has never halted its steps for the sake of faith."

Dumbledore watched him and asked in a deep voice, "Mr. Lin, you said this was one reason you abandoned your ambitions. Then what is the other half of the reason?"

Lin An fell silent for a moment before answering softly, "My parents."

The flames in the fireplace flickered faintly.

In that instant, the entire office fell silent. Even the portraits held their breath.

Lin An's voice carried no fluctuation, yet it sounded more like a cold, hardened confession.

"The one who killed them was not Voldemort, but this world."

Dumbledore's brow twitched slightly.

"Voldemort was merely the result, the embodiment of every mistake in wizarding society.

"The arrogance of those pure-blood supremacists, the humiliation suffered by Muggle-borns under oppression, the barriers between bloodlines, the decay of the old system...

"All of these were the soil that gave birth to Voldemort."

He lifted his head, a trace of sorrow flashing through his eyes. "So my parents were not killed by one person. They were harmed to death by the entire wizarding world.

"At that time, I wondered, if I truly could build a new civilization—

"Was a race like this truly worth saving?"

The room fell into another long silence.

Several portraits sighed softly. Headmistress Dewent said quietly, "Child, your hatred runs too deep."

Lin An did not answer. He merely watched the flames calmly.

At last, Dumbledore spoke. "I understand your anger, and I mourn for your parents.

"But do not deny the entire magical world because of the sins of a few.

"There are still many people striving to protect kindness and hope, just like your parents did."

Lin An raised his eyes, his gaze cold and clear. "The 'few' you speak of are precisely the rulers of this world.

"They control power, control resources, and decide laws and fates.

"The kindness of the majority is worthless before them."

Those words made the air in the room grow heavier still.

Dumbledore opened his mouth, but in the end, he offered no further defense.

—Lin An had not told the whole truth.

He had indeed abandoned his grand ambition of leading wizarding civilization, but not because of despair.

It was because he had already found another path.

He believed that with his talent and knowledge, he would eventually find a way to cross dimensions.

Once he could travel freely between different universes, he would no longer need the support of any nation or race.

That was his ultimate goal—

To embark on the path through the sea of stars and become an existence that crossed countless worlds.

His legend would be sung across innumerable dimensions.

And the first step was to obtain the "pinnacle of alchemy"—the Philosopher's Stone.

That was his true purpose in returning to Hogwarts.

Dumbledore's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Then, Professor Lin, can you tell me—why do you wish to return to Hogwarts to teach?"

Lin An smiled. "Because this place holds my most treasured memories.

"It taught me reason, and it also taught me dreams.

"In a sense, it is my second Household.

"Of course, there is another small reason."

He pointed to the towering bookshelves behind him. "I have missed the books in the Restricted Section for a long time.

"Unfortunately, every time I wanted to enter back then, you were always standing in the doorway."

Dumbledore froze for a moment, then laughed aloud.

There was some helplessness in that smile, along with a trace of relief.

The interview came to a peaceful end. Dumbledore asked a few more inconsequential questions before allowing him to leave.

Lin An rose and gently closed the door. The moment the wooden door shut, firelight reflected in Dumbledore's eyes.

Phineas Black's voice rang out first. "What a terrifying fellow."

"Terrifying?" another portrait asked in confusion. "Do you mean his ambition?"

"No." Phineas snorted. "I mean that outward 'abandonment' of his.

"Do you truly believe someone like him will stop there?

"I think he has already found another way."

Dewent sighed. "Perhaps. But perhaps he is simply tired."

"Tired? Ha. If he were truly tired, he would not have returned to Hogwarts." Phineas sneered. "I would wager he did not come back to teach, but to continue his plans."

Dumbledore said nothing. He merely gazed quietly into the flames.

The firelight reflected in his ancient eyes, flickering with a faint, elusive worry.