The Infused Heat

Professor McGonagall: "Oh! Dumbledore, what are you doing?"

Dumbledore knew that the animals the Animagus transformed into were often related to the wizard's nature.

At the same time, wizards can also be influenced by their animalistic instincts.

Even wizards who have mastered the Animagus for a long time are no exception.

His student and colleague, Minerva, is one of the seven registered Animagus members in this century.

She enjoys patrolling her territory, just like a cat.

Clearly, Hogwarts was her territory.

So no matter what happened at Hogwarts, no matter how late, she was always the first to arrive if they were equidistant.

The same thing happened this time.

The flames had already died down.

Harry sat cross-legged on the ground, shirtless, his robes tossed haphazardly to the side.

It's hard to believe that this place was just surrounded by raging, surging flames.

He himself stood to the side, panting heavily.

His robes were slightly disheveled from the large movements he made while casting the spell.

Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, held up her wand.

The light from the tip of the wand illuminated everything.

Fortunately, because of her presence, the Hogwarts students did not dare to leave the castle.

We've arrived here.

Only students from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Castelobruxo followed behind.

"What trick are you playing?" Professor McGonagall continued to ask when Dumbledore did not answer.

"Phew! What's wrong?" Harry opened his eyes as he returned to human senses from the tree.

In front of him, besides Dumbledore, there was also Professor McGonagall.

And the students who were surrounded by layers upon layers of people.

Professor McGonagall's face was ashen.

His eyes were full of suspicion.

And it would occasionally sweep across his body.

This startled Harry, who quickly put on his robes and stood up.

"It is obvious that we are conducting teaching."

"Minerva, you should know today is Saturday."

"We're practicing Wind magic," Harry nodded quickly.

"Wind?" Professor McGonagall sounded a little annoyed. "Albus, this kind of Ancient Magic is still too early for Mr. Potter!"

You should know that this kind of magic requires magical power.

Even adult wizards are few and far between, and few can withstand such a drain.

"Minerva, let's go somewhere else."

"Wait, we're not finished talking yet."

The Wind magic left nothing unharmed except for the body, the grass, and clothes three feet away.

"Only the Aegis Shield can withstand such a large-scale Fire-Making Spell." Professor McGonagall paused.

She seemed to have figured it out, and looked at Harry again, "Mr. Potter."

Before you learn magic next time, remember to consider your age.

You should know that a wizard's magical power multiplies after the age of seventeen.

It's best for underage wizards to avoid touching Ancient Magic.

Just like this time, even if you succeed.

But the aftereffects still took at least five or six minutes to recover.

I opened my eyes and noticed your presence.

You are still a father of one child.

In the end, Professor McGonagall forgave them.

Because when she got to the castle, she noticed that Harry looked pretty good.

In other words, Harry can support the use of Ancient Magic.

There were no lasting effects.

Considering that it is already the end of February.

It's been more than five months since Voldemort was resurrected.

Mastering some Ancient Magic with incredible defensive capabilities might actually be a good thing for Harry.

But Harry didn't know why Professor McGonagall had forgiven them.

Just like he doesn't know why Dumbledore didn't explain it clearly.

And just like what exactly happened.

Just now, he felt as if he had sunk into the earth, falling into a state as if he were still in his mother's womb.

When he woke up, he was inexplicably surrounded.

On their return to the castle, from Professor McGonagall's words and the words of the students surrounding them,

Harry learned that Dumbledore supposedly used a wide-range Fire-Making Spell.

This led to all the students in the school discovering the teaching session.

So, with questions in mind, after Professor McGonagall left, I glanced briefly at Meiling.

In the empty corridor, he asked Dumbledore, "What just happened?"

Am I not learning magic to turn into the wind and teleport during a duel?

Why do I feel completely differently?

And you even cast such an obvious Fire-Making Spell. Everyone knew about it.

Dumbledore simply smiled at this.

"Harry, something strange happened to you on the court earlier."

You, who should have been able to sense the wind, instead connected with something else after abandoning your keen senses.

It is your Contract Tree.

In this castle, it is undoubtedly the one you are closest to, besides Tom.

I'm so confused.

I had completely forgotten that.

At that time, in my perception, you transformed into a Seeds.

Seeds thriving in fertile soil.

Your body is like a hollow, constantly absorbing the magical power around you.

I realized that this was a miracle that could never be repeated.

If I wake you up, or until you wake up, you are not filled.

The loss you suffer may be something you can't make up for even after many years.

Then--"

"Then you used Fire-Making Spell to fill me?"

But where did all that magical power go? Harry looked at his hands.

Could such a frail body have absorbed so much power?

Even Dumbledore spent most of his energy just to fill it up.

Time: Sunday.

Inside the Chamber of Secrets outside Hogsmeade Village.

Ron read aloud from the open Witch Weekly: "Dumbledore poured all his passion into Harry Potter's frail body."

He suddenly raised his head. "So, this article wasn't wrong after all. You really are filled with Dumbledore."

Harry pursed his lips.

However, Ron's birthday is the day after tomorrow, March 1st.

He didn't say anything.

Unlike Ron, who was spouting nonsense, Draco analyzed, "This article must have been written by Rita Skeeter Skeeter."

It's very much her style.

She probably changed her pen name to avoid Sirius.

After all, Sirius would never have allowed her to write these things in the Daily Prophet.

"So what if she wrote it? Now Harry's reputation is ruined again."

A young boy, late at night, is seen with Dumbledore in an empty stadium.

Although Dumbledore's Fire-Making Spell undoubtedly dispelled the rumors.

After all, no one would make such a big fuss during a secret rendezvous.

But many people believe this is related to the third individual competition.

After all, it's quite a commotion.

They all believed that Dumbledore was giving Harry private lessons.

I noticed that many students from other schools were looking at Harry with much worse eyes.

Ron was completely puzzled. "So what?"

Dumbledore is the headmaster of Hogwarts.

What's wrong with a principal giving special tutoring to his own students?

Draco shook his head. "That's not how it works."

In their eyes, wizards of Dumbledore's caliber are in a league of their own.

His removal from the field signifies unfairness.

The rules of the game also state that the Champion must solve the problems on their own.

In their view, Harry was undoubtedly cheating.