Magician in the Moonlight
Let's go back to the weekend of the first week of June.
At that time, Quirrell was still grading homework to pretend everything was normal; Dumbledore, on the other hand, was preparing for his "departure" the following Wednesday.
At that moment, a ray of moonlight drifted from the void into the small room at the end of the Third Floor Corridor. Fluffy, squinted, feeling as if he had returned to the time when he was a child and was being raised by Hagrid.
Wait a minute! This room has no windows!
As a prized pet kept by Greece sorcerers as a guard dog, Fluffy is not as simple- Wisdom as he seems.
Just as it was trying to sniff out any hidden thieves around, a cold voice rang out, and it lost consciousness.
Appearing alongside the moonlight was a young man dressed in a white suit, wearing a monocle, and holding a walking stick. He seemed to have been born with that moonlight, standing here since time immemorial.
If a time traveler were to witness this scene, they would surely exclaim in surprise— Phantom Thief Kid!
Judging from his appearance, he should be from Asia, with black hair and bright yellow, jade-like skin. And with his appearance, the whole hut seemed to be filled with moonlight.
With a mysterious smile, the young man used his right hand, gloved in white, to slam his walking stick straight down onto the ground.
The Fluffy, who had fainted on the spot, floated into the air—then the Trapdoor beneath Three-Headed Dog opened automatically, revealing a pitch-black passage without a ladder.
He's like Magician performing on stage; no, from a 21st-century perspective, he's more like he's doing a live broadcast.
"Shh, I won't introduce myself yet." He bowed slightly, and his white leather shoes "walked" down the passageway, even though there were clearly no stairs.
He walked slowly, and with his arrival, the once dark underground room revealed its true form—a room with vines climbing the floor and walls.
It was illuminated by the accompanying moonlight, and all the vines, like a group of snakes, shrank into a corner.
"Oh, so this is the Devil's Snare? I've never seen it on the moon."
"However, she is so gentle."
"Any wizard in the dark will create light, Devil's Snare, which fears sunlight, can't harm any wizard at all—it even acts as a cushion." He muttered to himself as he descended the invisible staircase. A small section of the Devil's Snare in the corner snapped off automatically and Accio toward the right hand of the young man who had already reached the bottom of the room.
"As a good Magician, don't forget to restore the crime scene." He glanced at it, then threw it on the ground and carried it to the next room. The broken vine, like a small snake, crawled back to its original place, as if it had never broken or left.
Professor Sprout set up this defense, would be very surprised to see it— the Devil's Snare does not heal itself.
The only passageway to this room, apart from the Trapdoor that is now just a patch of light, is a stone corridor.
"Oh, it seems the final destination is downwards." The mysterious young man strode down, "As expected of Britain, damp and cold."
The corridor is a downward slope, and the air here is very humid, with water droplets slowly dripping down the walls of the corridor.
A short while later, the mysterious young man left the first room, the Trapdoor above closed automatically, the Devil's Snare stretched out its body again, and the Three-Headed Dog woke up, but remembered nothing.
Under some mysterious magic, everything returned to normal.
Even if Dumbledore came to check, he wouldn't find any signs of anyone breaking in.
At the end of the corridor, in front of you is a brightly lit room with a high vaulted ceiling.
Countless tiny birds, as bright and dazzling as jewels, fluttered their wings Accio around the room.
There is a heavy wooden door opposite the room.
In this room, soft rustling and tinkling sounds constantly rang out, like an irregular melody.
"Interesting 'birds,' childlike in spirit, full of imagination." The young man stroked his chin, commenting on the founder of the defense line.
He didn't even glance at the flying broom that the owner of the barrier had prepared for the intruder, nor did he use his mysterious magic again.
"One of the essential qualities of Magician is superb skill that is difficult to see with the naked eye." He tucked his walking stick into his left waistband, bent slightly at the waist, and placed his right hand on the top of the stick.
Then, a silver "giant net" was born from the cane in the youth's right hand!
Instead of catching the keys that looked like little birds, it split every key it touched in two, like a laser net.
These are the marks left by a sharp blade!
It turned out that the walking stick in the young man's hand had turned into a sharp blade with a very thin blade, and the original body of the walking stick was now used as a scabbard.
In that split second, he actually stood still and swung the blade hundreds of times. An invisible, sharp force surged from the blade, and just as it was about to hit the wall after separating the key, it disappeared.
He stood still and reinserted the gleaming, moonlit blade into the left side of the staff. He then extended his right hand, and the only key that hadn't split in two, only lost its wings, landed perfectly on his outstretched hand.
"Finally, I've stretched my muscles a bit." He walked to the heavy wooden door and headed to the next room.
Similarly, after he left, under his magic, everything returned to the way it was, as if no one had broken in.
The next room was pitch black; you couldn't see anything.
As soon as he stepped inside, the room suddenly lit up, and a huge chessboard appeared in front of the young man.
In front of it are black chess pieces, about 2 meters tall, which seem to be carved from black stone or something similar.
At the other end of the room, facing him, were some white chess pieces, without any facial features.
"Interesting. You think the intruder is black, and you're white, the side of justice, without even a face, yet you try to intimidate the intruder?" The young man raised his eyebrows in displeasure and drew his wand for the first time.
It can't be said that he pulled it out; this cane was his magic wand, and it returned to its original 7-inch size.
"Vera Verto! (Latin: I transform, I exchange)" the young man chanted, waving his wand. The pieces in front of him and opposite him changed color to white and black, respectively.
"That's better," the young man said with a smile.
"Sometimes focusing too much on rules can actually lead to being restricted by others."
"The second essential condition for Magician is to learn to ignore the rules," the young man said, turning his head as if to someone.
Then, his body transformed into moonlight once more, and when he reappeared, he was already at the entrance to the next room.
He seemed to foresee something, pausing briefly at the entrance before exclaiming, "Destroy!"
The Troll that was tilting its little head to check if anyone was outside the door, along with the foul stench, vanished the moment the sound rang out.
"The third essential quality for Magician is strength."
Then, with cheerful steps, he entered the next room.