Under the starlit dome, blue magical fireworks blossomed brilliantly.
A flock of glowing paper airplanes formed a formation, flying over Cho Chang's head; Michael, having borrowed Wade's magical camera, was snapping pictures everywhere; Luna, dressed in a sparkling cake-shaped gown, spun and danced by the window for her own amusement.
The "Doll" Wade drank and reveled with the overly excited students, partying all night, while the real Wade had already slipped back to the dormitory without a sound.
The night was deep. Sitting by the window, Wade could hear his classmates cheering and singing.
If one were to fly outside right now, surely the windows of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers would both be brightly lit?
He leaned against the window and the cool glass pressed to his forehead, he felt as if it could slightly cool the restless turbulence of his thoughts.
Passing the first task of the tournament didn't really matter, but Antoine's words had stirred indescribable ripples in his heart. The more he thought, the harder it was to remain calm.
He had many unrealistic fantasies, yet even in Ravenclaw, a house that valued wisdom, it was unlikely anyone would resonate with such ideas.
Wade blinked. The shadows of the Forbidden Forest trees swayed under the moonlight, just like his mood—silent, yet surging.
At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the trampled meadow now lay empty, with only uneven hoofprints left behind.
…
On the way to the competition that morning, Wade saw that jeweled elephant again, leisurely curling leaves of shrubs into its trunk in the morning mist. Golden ornaments dangled from its body gleamed brightly under the sunlight.
But Mantra School's three champions had all been eliminated. Just earlier in the common room, Wade overheard some Ravenclaws say that Professor Sunil hadn't even waited for dinner before hastily leaving with his students.
"They said they couldn't stand the ghostly Scottish Highland weather!" Marietta, a fifth-year, said in a proud yet mocking tone. "They wouldn't even bother casting a warming charm for their own elephant!"
"What else could they say?" another girl leaned in, laughing. "What, that they're too ashamed to stay any longer?"
The group burst into laughter, silver teaspoons clinking against porcelain plates.
And it wasn't just Mantra. After dinner, Castelobruxo's colorful magical train departed slowly, puffing pale blue steam;
By curfew, the Al-Qadim flying carpets skimmed across the surface of the Black Lake, luring the giant squid out of the water. Its enormous eyes on the side of its head stared blankly at the sky, looking rather silly.
Of the schools that remained, aside from Hogwarts, each had at least one champion still qualified to compete in the second task.
"Good thing you decided to come out in the end," Michael whispered to Wade himself. "Otherwise only two or three schools would be left, and our dear Minister Fudge would have gone mad with rage."
"Would that be such a bad thing?" Wade asked quietly.
Michael thought for quite a while before replying, "Maybe not… If someone else takes the seat of Minister of Magic, things might actually turn out better."
…
Wade pulled his gaze back from the window. He felt no sleepiness at all. His eyes wandered between the inkstone and the quill for a moment, before he finally took a deep breath, spread a sheet of parchment on the desk, and with a flick of his fingers summoned a deep blue quill into his hand.
The tip of the pen wrote the opening—
[ To Delaine: ]
Günther Delaine was Grindelwald's right-hand man. Writing to him was no different than writing to Grindelwald himself.
Of course, Wade was always cautious—he never signed his name, nor did he use his own handwriting. The quill had been enchanted so that the writing appeared in a typical printed style: elegant and smooth, but devoid of any personal characteristics.
Although the methods of the Alliance in the past were chilling to the bone—and even now, their callous disregard for life was still glaringly obvious—Wade had to admit that in this wizarding world, where high walls of tradition and prejudice had long been erected, only the Alliance still tried to shake the rotten, rigid structures.
Some of Wade's ideas, perhaps, could only be understood and practiced by them.
[ To Delaine:
The first task of the tournament has already ended. No doubt you have witnessed everything through the Streaming Mirror, so I won't repeat it here. It's just that the poor standard of the other schools' champions was unbelievable, and it robbed the contest of much of its excitement.
Antoine has proposed compiling the teaching methods of the Spell Study Group into a book. I wonder—was this at Mr. Grindelwald's instruction? Could reforming the way spells are taught allow far greater numbers of talented wizards to emerge? How much can the power of words truly change?
As far as I know, the curriculum at Hogwarts has barely changed in over a hundred years, and the entire wizarding world carries a stale, antiquated air. Aside from the Hogwarts Express, nearly all aspects of life—food, clothing, shelter, and travel—are hardly different from centuries ago.
Compared to the ever-changing Muggle world, everything here feels locked in a medieval time capsule.
That is why I can understand your previous comments regarding the proposed revision of the International Statute of Secrecy. We can all see how enlightened individuals recognize the fear of Muggle society, yet violent methods are not the answer. To abruptly change the Statute would bring no good to the wizarding world.
Perhaps my thoughts may seem too mild to you, but I believe true change does not come from overturning one or two laws, nor from trying to sway the entrenched interests at the top—it begins with the tiniest of changes.
For instance, why not develop practical, non-controversial products that address common pain points in Muggle society?
Many problems that mean little to us cause enormous trouble to Muggles.
For example—they detest obesity yet lack the willpower to lose weight, while we have slimming potions; They desire beauty, and we have beautifying draughts and soft-glow badges; They long for smooth, delicate skin, thick and glossy hair, possessions that don't need endless cleaning; when injured, they cannot heal quickly…
And all of these can be solved by one or two simple spells or potions.
Of course, since we cannot yet reveal the existence of the wizarding world, spells should not be used, and potions must be adapted into forms that Muggles can safely consume.
By diluting potions tens or even hundreds of times, to Muggles they would appear as nothing more than "useful medicines," arousing no suspicion and without breaching the Statute.
Delaine, if we could use just a fraction of magic to solve those problems, perhaps when the wizarding world inevitably becomes exposed, such "tiny changes" would encourage friendly relations.
The majority of Muggles would accept and even admire wizards, instead of showing the hostility and persecution of the past.
Of course, I know these ideas are not yet mature, but I believe that if we follow this path, it will prove far more effective than the Cruciatus, than death, than slaughter. What do you think?
I await your reply. ]
--------------------------------
🙏🙏Please consider supporting this translation project by becoming a P@treon member!!!
Your support is greatly appreciated!
Available on my P@treon page for just $4!!
Early access to the following translations:-
⭐Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God (HP:BSG)- 200+ Chapters
⭐MCU: Druid's Adventures (MCUDA)(⭐COMPLETE⭐) - Total Chapter 460
⭐Famous Police Detective in Detective World (FPDDW)- +165 advance chapters
⭐Marvel: Little Genius (MLG) (⭐COMPLETE⭐) - Total Chapter 450
[email protected]/Lightreaper457
--------------------------------