"Eat slugs, Malfoy!"
As Ron's words rang out, a flash of green light shot from the tip of his wand toward Malfoy.
The moment Ron spoke, the instant the spell was cast, Leon felt a sharp pang of unease.
This wasn't right. This wasn't how things were supposed to go.
Even if the problem was the same, would a completely different approach yield the same result?
It was possible, of course.
But if a problem has a single correct answer, does life work the same way?
Leon didn't know.
All he knew was that, whatever this strange feeling was, he trusted his instincts.
At the exact moment the spell left Ron's wand, Leon yanked Ron's arm with such force that he nearly fell to the ground.
The next second, the green light hit Malfoy, only to rebound and graze past Ron's hair by mere millimeters.
A fraction closer, and Ron would've been the one spewing slugs.
Still shaken, Ron's face was pale as he realized just how revolting that spell had been.
"Thanks, Leon," he stammered. "That was close…"
"Gurgle… gurgle…" Malfoy's expression was venomous, clearly wanting to spit out some cutting remark, but all that came out was a string of bubbles.
The fight came to a halt as everyone froze, caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events.
Leon stepped forward, locking eyes with a rattled Malfoy.
"So, you ran to Daddy for help, did you?" Leon said pointedly, glancing at the antique brooch pinned to Malfoy's robes. "A permanent Ironclad Charm, huh? What did your father tell you to do? Did you mention that I've got business to discuss with him?"
Malfoy's gaze wavered, growing increasingly unsteady until he looked away, unable to hold Leon's stare.
But Leon wasn't one to let things slide. He grabbed Malfoy's collar, forcing him to meet his eyes.
"You think pure-bloods are so noble, do you? Just some nonsense spouted by illiterate fools, passed down to trick generation after generation of idiots, treated as gospel by every dimwit who buys into it.
"Imagine a patch of red flowers, and one day, a green flower pops up—a genetic mutation. Over time, it spreads and grows into a small cluster. Suddenly, the green flowers think they're better than the red ones, claiming they're a whole different species.
"But have the green flowers ever stopped to wonder why their offspring sometimes turn out red? Or why red flowers occasionally produce green ones?
"Have they considered that, if a red flower patch can produce green flowers, it might also produce other colors? And what if those other flowers are even more impressive than the green ones? How would they view the green flowers then?
"And here's another thought: if red flowers can produce green ones, could green flowers produce yellow ones? And if yellow flowers show up one day, will they look down on the green ones as inferior, unworthy of comparison?"
Leon's relentless red-flower-green-flower analogy left Malfoy dazed, and the dozen or so onlookers were equally baffled. They sort of got the point… but not quite.
Leon wasn't done with Malfoy yet.
"Didn't catch that, huh? Figures—must be the inbreeding.
"Let me ask you this: that pure-blood nonsense you're always preaching about—what does 'pure-blood' even mean? Is it about actual blood?"
Under Leon's intense stare, Malfoy gave a hesitant nod.
"In the wizarding world, if someone's bleeding out, we use a Blood-Replenishing Potion. Know how Muggle doctors handle it?
"If I drained every drop of your blood right now and replaced it with the same amount of Muggle blood that matches your blood type, what do you think would happen?"
Malfoy's eyes widened in fear, as if he already knew the answer was something he couldn't bear.
Leon flashed a wicked grin.
"You'd be just fine. Perfectly fine. Better than fine. Your magic wouldn't vanish, your brain wouldn't get any dumber, and your kids would still be yours.
"Well, scratch that last bit.
"This pure-blood theory you're so proud of? It's wrong from the name to the core.
"The 'filthy' Muggle blood you sneer at? It's no different from yours. You're no different from a Muggle.
"The only reason you have magical talent isn't some noble bloodline—it's just dumb luck.
"You got lucky with magic, but unlucky with brains.
"And if the wizarding world ends up full of people like you, it's done for."
Leon let go of Malfoy, who crumpled like a rag doll, and looked down at him.
"Don't forget to tell Lucius I'm serious—I've got real business to talk with him."
With that, Leon turned to leave.
The whole fiasco had ruined practice for both Quidditch teams, so everyone scattered to enjoy their weekend.
As Leon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione wandered aimlessly, chatting, Harry—who'd attended Muggle primary school—followed most of Leon's argument. Ron, on the other hand, was completely lost, while Hermione excitedly broke it down for him.
"Leon, that was brilliant!" Hermione said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I understood everything you said, but I could never have put it together so logically to shut Malfoy down like that."
"I've always thought the pure-blood theory was absurd," she continued. "Most people I know think the same, but all they ever say is that it's wrong and the people who believe it are bad. No one explains why it's wrong or why it's bad."
"Because," Leon said suddenly, "the pure-blood theory might actually be true."
"What?! No way! Absolutely not!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione said in unison.
Leon smirked, deciding it was time to shake up the trio's innocent view of the world.
"What I just said is only one theory about the origin of wizards—one that's more scientific, more in line with natural laws, and frankly, more normal.
"But there's a hitch. It took millions of years for humans to evolve from apes to what we are now. So why did wizards evolve so quickly? In just a few thousand years, they reached the scale and power they have today.
"There's another theory—a darker one, but possibly more plausible—about where wizards came from.
"It goes like this: magical creatures came first, with all sorts of incredible powers. Humans revered these creatures, lived alongside them, used them for protection and hunting, and for a while, it was peaceful.
"But some humans coveted their magic. Eventually, their greed got the better of them, and they acted on it…
"No one knows what happened, and no one ever will.
"What we do know is that those humans paid a terrible price but gained the magic they wanted.
"The ones who survived became the ancestors of wizards.
"This theory explains why wizards went from having no magic to wielding immense power in such a short time. Their magic didn't evolve—it was stolen from magical creatures, already fully developed and powerful.
"If this is true, then wizarding magic does come from bloodlines—just not human ones. It comes from the blood of magical creatures.
"But you can't expect the pure-blood fanatics to grasp that distinction.
"The wizards who know this don't talk about it. They just say pure-blood theory is wrong and bad because the truth is embarrassing, and they'd rather not dwell on it.
"And here's a fun little tidbit for you: have you noticed how many magical creatures in the wizarding world have human-like faces or bodies?
"Remember what the adults say? They claim those are wizards who botched a Human Transfiguration spell or drank the wrong potion.
"But why, then, do some of these creatures—like the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest—exist as entire populations, not just one-offs?
"So tell me, where did the centaurs come from?"