Chapter 272: Conversation at the Table
"Okay, I guess I got it right," Kate said, shrinking her neck slightly.
"Yes. But there's something I want to remind you about," Alexander replied. "Regarding the locket—when Voldemort's Horcrux sensed me, it admired my boundless magic power. But that's a misunderstanding."
"He wasn't wrong about my magic," Alexander continued. "It's just that he—and most wizards in this world—hold a completely mistaken idea about magic itself."
Kate tilted her head curiously, while Alexander's tone grew serious.
"The most powerful wizard in this world doesn't have more than three times the magical power of an ordinary wizard," he explained.
"Yes, magic power increases with greater knowledge, stronger will, and accumulated experience—but not as much as most wizards imagine. The supposed ten- or twentyfold increase they feel is only an illusion."
"Magic power is spiritual energy," Alexander went on. "Its change lies in quality, not quantity. When you feel like you've gained tremendous magic, you're really just refining its control and purity."
If not for the fact that Alexander had a system panel where he could see his exact magic value—just 49—he might have believed the same illusion as Voldemort.
Because when he felt the self-recovering, endless magical flow within him, it did feel infinite—no different from what Voldemort had sensed.
"Ah, then how much magic power do I have—by your standards?" Kate asked curiously.
Ravenclaw's trademark curiosity had returned. She even forgot, for the moment, about the promised trip and leaned forward eagerly.
"If an ordinary young wizard's magic power is rated at ten, yours would be around twenty-one," Alexander said.
To be honest, Kate's magic was extraordinary. Even compared to Rubeus Hagrid—the half-giant descendant of the Lord of Monsters—Kate's magical reserves could match him. If they were the same age, she might even surpass him.
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Meanwhile, inside the old Black family home at 12 Grimmauld Place, an unbelievable scene was unfolding.
An Inferius… was eating.
Fragrant roast chicken, steaming pies, juicy steak, and crispy fried drumsticks were all devoured by Regulus Black. His marble-white fingers were covered with oil and sauce as he awkwardly tore at the food.
The sight was bizarre—like the neat and proper Percy suddenly imitating Ron's eating habits.
Kreacher stood beside him, eyes gleaming with joy. His old rags had been washed and starched white, and he looked more proud than ever as he watched Regulus eat.
Harry suspected that even if Dobby appeared right now and preached about freedom, Kreacher wouldn't bat an eye.
"I thought I was going mad at first," Sirius murmured from the table, eyes red but tender as he watched his younger brother eat. From time to time, he passed Regulus a slice of pie.
"What kind of magic is this?" Harry asked in astonishment.
Draco frowned deeply, trying to recall everything he'd ever learned about Inferi.
Ron didn't touch the food at all—he sat perched on the edge of the bench, ready to bolt if Regulus suddenly lunged.
Even Lupin's expression was unsettled. He had shared a room with Sirius for days now, but this… this was beyond anything he'd imagined.
"Harry, it's not magic," Sirius said slowly. "Maybe it's because Regulus was a wizard?"
"Whatever the reason—Kreacher was right. Regulus is still alive."
"He doesn't seem to need to eat, and he can recover strength from darkness. But he remembers things—he remembers how to eat, he recognizes me, and that annoying elf Kreacher as family."
"Can you believe it? I even opened the portrait of my deranged mother—and for the first time, she didn't scream at me."
Seeing Regulus walking, drinking, and speaking—even incoherently—had brought Sirius back to life in a way nothing else had. The gloom that once clung to him had lifted, replaced by a spark of warmth.
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"You shameless scoundrel, you filthy traitor! You broke my mistress's heart!"
Kreacher's raspy voice suddenly broke through Sirius's thoughts.
"Master Regulus's return is thanks to Master Potter and his friends! The mistress did not insult you! Master Sirius never reflects on his actions!"
"Master Regulus has forgotten many things—he doesn't even know how to eat—and Master Sirius doesn't know how to help him!" Kreacher huffed, puffing up proudly.
His tone was bizarre—half reprimand, half devotion—like Uncle Vernon gently telling Harry that he was a freak.
"Oh, how could I forget?" Sirius said, unfazed. He smiled faintly and waved his wand. Instantly, all the oil and crumbs vanished from Regulus's face, hands, and clothes.
When Sirius approached, Regulus paused mid-bite and looked up at him with blank, confused eyes.
"Come on, Regulus. Let me feed you," Sirius said softly, picking up a drumstick.
"I think Severus will be disappointed," Lupin said suddenly.
"What does Snape have to do with this?" Ron blurted, still tense but unable to resist gossip.
Harry leaned in, equally curious.
Even Sirius froze at the name of the man he loathed most—Snape—the "greasy bat" of Hogwarts.
"I came to Sirius's house and made a point of reviewing old issues of the Daily Prophet," Lupin said thoughtfully. "I didn't use to subscribe to the paper—hard to, when you can't keep a stable job."
"But I read everything—Sirius's case, Dumbledore's letters… and in one of them, I learned the truth."
"To clear Sirius's name, Severus used his influence as Head of Slytherin and Master of Potions to its fullest—so much that even Dumbledore was restrained by it."
Sirius blinked. "What? Snape? That snot-nosed git?"
Even Harry and Ron stared wide-eyed, unsure they'd heard right.
"Professor Snape is strict, but he's not that kind of person—" Harry muttered.
"The old bat?" Ron added skeptically.
Draco only said in disbelief, "Is this really our Head of House?"
"I had the same expression when I first read it," Lupin admitted with a grin. "Until I confirmed it with Dumbledore himself."
"Kreacher, bring Regulus some more dinner," Sirius said at last, turning back toward his brother.
But his mind was already spinning.
What in Merlin's name was that greasy bat, Severus Snape, really thinking?
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(End of this chapter)
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