Despite receiving praise from Dumbledore, Morris showed no sign of pride; instead, he frowned slightly.
"But I haven't made any progress in a long time," he said. "No matter how I adjust the spells or the way I swing the staff, I can't seem to improve much."
He seems to have reached a certain bottleneck.
It wasn't just the Shield Charm, but also the Disarming Charm, the Stunning Spell, the Blasting Curse —almost all the spells in this world that he knew were like that.
He had assumed that as his Mental Power grew, the power of these spells would naturally increase as well.
But in reality, this is not the case.
That is why, even if he possessed a great deal of magic, he couldn't use it for spells; at best, it would only make him last longer.
After listening to Morris's question, Dumbledore calmly shook his head and said, " Morris, magic cannot be strengthened overnight. You need more accumulation. As you experience more, you will naturally be able to unleash powerful spells."
Morris nodded, then asked, "Are there any more specific directions?"
Dumbledore glanced at him, a slight smile playing on his lips, seemingly unsurprised by the question.
"Specifically, what are the directions you can follow?" he asked.
"Yes," Morris said.
Dumbledore sat up straight, interlaced his fingers in front of him, and said seriously, "If you insist that I say something that can make your magic more powerful—it is love."
"Love?" Morris was taken aback, his tone strange.
What kind of abstract theory is this?
Dumbledore saw his confusion and waved his hand. "Of course, it's not just love. More accurately, it's wizarding emotions."
Morris sighed. "Of course I know that a wizard's emotions can amplify the power of spells. Perhaps in a fit of extreme rage I could unleash a devastating Blasting Curse, but... that's not a state that can be maintained for long."
Dumbledore and uttered a few words: "But love can."
Um... okay.
Morris had a headache.
Dumbledore's answer was probably of little value to him.
He understands the truth, but where can he find "love"?
Dumbledore stood up; the cake plate in front of him was now empty.
"I should go now," he said, his tone light. "I need to see Professor McGonagall to discuss your and Harry's upcoming lessons. But I'm afraid you don't need me to worry."
Morris asked, puzzled, "So, Professor, what brings you here today?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I was just taking a walk and passing by."
"Okay." Morris shrugged. "Just passing by."
"There's one more thing." As Dumbledore was leaving, he turned back as if remembering something and said, "There will be a wand testing session during the first period tomorrow afternoon. It's in the last room on the left side of the second floor corridor. Remember to be there on time."
"Understood," Morris said.
The next morning, Morris went to the restaurant as usual.
Becoming Champion will undoubtedly bring some trouble, especially for Morris.
He has many accolades: the hero who captured Sirius Black, the famous designer of flying brooms, and a genius student who always came first in exams.
This resulted in him being extremely popular at Hogwarts.
Morris could clearly sense this, at least from the whispers in the corridor and the occasional slivers of sunlight streaming in.
As he passed through the courtyard, seven or eight girls even came up to him asking for his autograph.
That's a bit of an exaggeration.
The girls at Hogwarts are always very enthusiastic.
After they left, Morris found himself with several letters and a gift package, which he didn't know who had given it to him in the chaos.
The letters were sprayed with perfume and decorated with hearts; their contents were quite predictable.
As he was pondering what to do with these things, a slightly accented voice came from behind him.
You seem to be quite popular.
Morris turned around and saw Phoebe standing a few steps away, her hands behind her back, looking at him.
"Obviously," Morris said casually. "Who are you here to see?"
"Just browsing around." Phoebe said, tilting her head back. "While Hogwarts is indeed nice, I think you should definitely visit Beauxbatons if you have the chance. You'll be amazed."
Her tone was full of confidence in her school.
Morris didn't reply, but instead stuffed the envelope he received into his pocket and opened the gift package.
Inside were a dozen or so small, round things, sprinkled with icing sugar and sugar granules; they looked like cookies.
He leaned in and smelled it.
Just as I expected.
Then, Morris whistled.
Before long, several owls flew over from different directions and landed in front of him.
Morris crouched down and carefully broke the biscuits in his hand into small pieces to feed them.
Phoebe asked curiously, "Don't you eat it yourself?"
"There's Amortentia on it," Morris said without looking up, continuing to feed the child.
" Amortentia!?" Phoebe was startled. "The students here actually use this?"
She probably misunderstood something.
Morris fed the last biscuit to the smallest owl, stood up, and dusted off the crumbs. "Someone was probably trying to play a trick on me. But unfortunately, this Amortentia wasn't brewed well; it won't work and will probably just give me diarrhea."
If it were a proper Amortentia, he would smell a scent he likes on it, but these cookies smell like cheese, which he doesn't like.
"I could brew Amortentia with my eyes closed," Morris said dismissively. "That guy's skills are terrible."
As soon as the words were spoken, the owls that were being fed suddenly went berserk, Accio erratically in the air, completely disoriented.
In the chaos, a gray owl swooped down on Phoebe.
Phoebe was clearly unprepared for this unexpected situation. The owl spread its wings and landed on her head, hooking its claws into her long silver hair, its wings flapping incessantly.
"Get down!" Phoebe's voice was clearly annoyed.
In her panic, she staggered back two steps, tripped on the stone steps, lost her balance, and fell backward.
Fortunately, Morris pulled her up at the last moment, preventing her from hitting the back of her head on the ground.
" Petrificus Totalus!"
As Morris helped Phoebe up, he cast a Petrificus Totalus on the owl. The owl froze instantly, its claws releasing Phoebe's hair, and it fell to the ground.
Phoebe steadied herself by pulling on Morris's hand; she looked utterly disheveled.
Her hair was a mess, with a few gray feathers stuck to it, and there was a red mark on her face.
"What happened to those owls?" she asked angrily.
Morris released Phoebe's hand, bent down to pick up the stiff Greywood Owl from the ground, and released it back into the air after dispelling the spell.
"It's probably because of that pot of ruined Amortentia," he explained. "That's a side effect, making their brains a bit confused."
"Damn it," Phoebe muttered, fixing her hair, her face slightly flushed.
Unbeknownst to Morris, a figure in the corner was quietly putting away his camera.