"You make a good point," Dumbledore nodded, his clear eyes fixed on Louis—who quickly lowered his gaze, avoiding eye contact.
"Mr. Wilson, how is your relationship with Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked.
"It's alright, I suppose. After all, we're neighbors," Louis lied smoothly. While it was true they were neighbors, before awakening his system, Louis had always kept his distance from Harry Potter, worried about getting involved.
"Mr. Potter is a friend worth having," Dumbledore said. "I knew his parents well, and he's kinder than his father was at that age. But he's lacking in ability, having grown up in a non-magical environment."
"If he struggles with his studies, I'll help him," Louis replied. "As a friend."
"Very good. Then we're in agreement, Mr. Wilson." Dumbledore nodded, then scribbled a note on a slip of parchment. "Take this to Madam Pince in the library—she'll understand."
Louis took the note and, with a flick of his hand, made it vanish into his sleeve.
"A fine bit of sleight of hand, Mr. Wilson. I've heard your father and grandfather were both magicians. It seems your own skill isn't lacking either," Dumbledore praised.
"Just a few trivial tricks," Louis replied calmly, though he frowned subtly and glanced at the phoenix perched nearby.
First, the phoenix had looked straight at his sleeve—the spot where he'd hidden the note. Then, Dumbledore had followed suit, his expression one of sudden realization, as if prompted.
That bird saw through my trick. And not only that—it seemed to transfer the insight directly to Dumbledore. He could communicate with the phoenix seamlessly, even share its vision.
Troublesome.
The phoenix's eyesight might even surpass that of a hawk—it could probably see through any complex sleight of hand. Which meant Dumbledore could too. Maybe storing the note directly in his spatial ring would've avoided detection.
But Louis resisted the urge to test it. The teleportation ring was his most critical tool—he didn't want to risk exposing it. Right now, his tools were limited, and without other items to mask it, using the ring was too dangerous.
There was no need to expose too much just for a single reward.
Exposed tricks yield no reward—especially when both spectators see through them. With that thought, Louis stood and politely took his leave from the Headmaster's office.
After he left, Dumbledore was silent for a moment before speaking. "What do you all think his true intention is?"
The reply came from a portrait of a goateed old man, his name and lifespan engraved beneath:
Phineas Nigellus Black, 1847–1926.
"A troublesome little brat—hard to read," the high-ranking Slytherin said. "Just look at those eyes, always darting about. Hard to believe he's a Muggle-born wizard. He was born for Slytherin."
"You really should let go of that ridiculous blood-purity nonsense. All your descendants are in Azkaban now," said the portrait across from him—a woman wielding an oversized oak wand, which she waved threateningly.
Clearly, she used that wand more like a bludgeon.
"Rude old hag," Phineas muttered under his breath, not daring to say it louder. She would hit him—and it hurt.
"He is indeed clever—and he has the strength to back up that intelligence," murmured Armando Dippet, a former headmaster, his eyes downcast. "But that's not necessarily a good thing. There was someone else like that once…"
At the mention of that person, the entire gallery of portraits fell silent.
"But this Mr. Wilson does have one thing going for him—he's honest. He makes his goals clear. That's reassuring," said Headmistress Dilys Derwent. "Let's keep watching. He's still only eleven."
"What else can we do? Punish him just for being clever? He hasn't done anything wrong," Phineas muttered, shaking his head.
Dumbledore nodded. "We'll wait and see… He might surprise us—or frighten us."
What was meant to be a normal meeting between student and headmaster had somehow turned into a negotiation.
Louis found the whole thing odd. Dumbledore had treated him like a mature adult, even offering access to the Restricted Section in exchange for helping Harry Potter.
"Looks like what I did to the Slytherin boys made a bigger splash than I expected," Louis muttered to himself.
After having lunch with Hermione, as planned, and finalizing their after-school library study session, Louis returned to the dormitory—where he found his roommates still pale and jittery.
They eyed each other warily, fear still lingering in their expressions. Even Malfoy and his two cronies kept a cautious distance from each other.
Though their memories had been erased, the night's cycle of torment had left behind reflexive trauma. In the illusion, any classmate around them could turn into a clown and attack at any moment. The memory was gone, but the conditioned fear remained.
It would probably take at least half a month for them to fully recover.
Louis, the culprit, spared them only a glance before returning to his bed.
The dorm had been cleaned by house-elves, and all traces of the unpleasant smell were gone. Louis opened his cage and let Fafnir out, feeding it a few nuts and deciding to take it for a walk.
It had been eating without exercise for days and was starting to gain weight—not ideal, considering Louis still needed it for mail delivery.
Once Fafnir was off, Louis grabbed his book and headed to the Potions classroom—perhaps the most dangerous subject for him.
For now, though, there was no rush. According to what Hermione had said at lunch, the first class would just be an overview of potion ingredients and their preparation—no hands-on work yet.
Louis arrived early. Class wouldn't start for at least another hour, and the dimly lit room was completely empty.
Perfect.
Without hesitation, Louis walked over to a supply cabinet beside the door—a place he'd never visited, yet moved toward with practiced ease.
This cabinet stored unimportant teaching supplies—old cauldrons used as backups, and spare textbooks for careless young wizards.
And there, Louis found it—a worn, tattered copy of the sixth-year N.E.W.T.-level textbook:
- Advanced Potion-Making.
---
Enjoying the story? Can't wait to see what happens next? 👀
I upload 3 chapters daily on Patreon, and you can read up to 25+ advanced chapters right now! 💥
👉 Patreon.com/RedX43 👈
Your support means the world and helps me keep the chapters coming faster than ever! ❤️🔥