Chapter 183: Magi-Metal Wizards
Reporter: You are a Squib, yet you can use magic?
Martin: Squibs are people born into wizarding families who cannot use magic. We are not Squibs. We are Magi-Metal Wizards. By using a Magi-Alloy wand, we can use magic.
Reporter: Magi-Metal Wizards... I see. Sir, I heard it was with the help of Mr. Ryan Welles that you were able to cast a Light Charm.
Martin: Yes, Professor Ryan is the creator and benefactor of all Magi-Metal Wizards.
Reporter: May I ask, Mr. Martin, could you demonstrate your use of magic for us?
Martin: Of course.
The reporter stopped taking notes and followed Martin to the banquet hall.
After the banquet that night, Ryan had left the Magi-Alloy wand in the corner of the hall, telling these self-proclaimed "Magi-Metal Wizards" that they could use it whenever they wanted.
He had also given Ollivander a plug, telling them: "Master Ollivander in Diagon Alley, Britain, specializes in crafting Magi-Alloy wands. He is currently training a group of wandmakers for this purpose. You can go there to seek your own wands."
Because of the scheduled interview, the Magi-Metal Wizards hadn't left for Diagon Alley yet. They planned to head there immediately after the interview, determined to buy their own Magi-Alloy wands at any cost.
In the Banquet Hall.
The reporter curiously examined the iron rod, which looked more like a melee weapon than a wand, his camera flashing non-stop. "Mr. Martin, is this the miraculous Magi-Alloy wand everyone is talking about?"
"Professor Ryan said this is the first version, effective for Squibs. Master Ollivander in Diagon Alley is also an expert in this field." Martin picked up the iron rod. He tried to flourish it, but it was too heavy, and he nearly dropped it.
"I only know the Light Charm right now," he told the reporter. Trying to recreate the feeling from that day, he mobilized the faint, elusive power within his body and poured it into the iron rod.
The reporter watched the casting method—no incantation, no wand movement, just a face turning red from exertion—and felt in his heart that this shouldn't be called spellcasting.
But his opinion didn't matter. As a Beauxbatons graduate, he knew that in ancient times, before magic was systemized, spellcasting took all sorts of forms.
And Martin, lighting up the rod, could naturally be considered a wizard. In the reporter's view, this was irrefutable. Anyone denying it was denying the past, denying the origins of magic, and was essentially a traitor to wizardkind.
He recorded the historic scene, knowing full well that this article would spark fierce debate. He was ready for it.
Back in the day, he had achieved the highest score in History of Magic in the last century. The pride of a historian would not be desecrated!
With this thought, his fighting spirit burned bright.
After Martin's interview, one by one, the newly minted Magi-Metal Wizards shared their thoughts and proved their ability to cast spells.
Without exception, they were all Squibs whom the wizarding world had sentenced to a magic-less existence.
The reporter recorded their names, one by one.
They were pioneers, destined for the history books.
For thousands of years to come, all Magi-Metal Wizards of Squib origin would remember their names.
"It was a pleasure meeting you all. The interview is concluded. I hope to have the chance to meet you privately in the future."
The reporter bid them farewell.
Beauxbatons Headmistress's Office.
Madame Maxime, Nicolas Flamel, Perenelle, and Ryan Welles sat around the circular table.
"Their interviews should be over. Why did you refuse the interview with The Gargoyle's Roar when they asked for you?" Madame Maxime asked Ryan.
After she had informed the newspaper about the Squibs transforming into Magi-Metal Wizards, the editor-in-chief had expressed a strong desire to interview Ryan Welles personally. But Ryan had refused. She had been forced to decline the invitation on his behalf.
"This matter should be about them. They found salvation from despair, and they saved themselves. We all saw it—it was their belief in themselves that saved them. I merely provided a catalyst; it's not worth mentioning," Ryan said.
That was one reason. The other, which he didn't mention, was the "surprise" brought to him by the Rita Skeeter-esque reporter, Astolat, from the Daily Prophet during the last holiday.
He had no hope for mainstream newspapers. Whether they praised or mocked, flattered or belittled, they only cared about sensationalism. It was better to decline and enjoy some peace and quiet.
"And to be honest, Madame Maxime, if I accepted the interview, the article might... not be what everyone wants to see. Let's leave history pure," he said, jokingly alluding to the media's need for drama.
"Leave history pure... the reporter who came today was a student of mine. He would appreciate that sentiment," Madame Maxime said, clapping softly.
Nicolas and Perenelle sat at the head of the table, listening to the "children" talk.
They seemed to be waiting for something, a result they wanted to see, because they knew Ryan had slipped out the night before.
"Quick, quick!"
"Are we booking plane tickets?"
"No, no, no! We need to borrow... a Portkey to Diagon Alley!"
"Right! Planes are too slow! Floo Powder and Portkeys are how we should travel!"
The Magi-Metal Wizards bid the reporter a smiling farewell. They didn't want to stay at Beauxbatons a second longer. If they could, they would have Apparated straight to Ollivanders right then and there.
Slow Muggle transport like airplanes was naturally discarded.
Those with some knowledge of the wizarding world proposed Portkeys and Floo Powder, a suggestion met with unanimous approval.
They were just about to go find Madame Maxime to ask for permission when the fireplace in the banquet hall flared green.
A man stepped out of the flames, carrying a leather suitcase.
He wore glasses, his hair was short and bristly like steel wool, and his hands were bony, with veins popping out, looking strong and capable.
"Are you... Martin... and the other Magi-Metal Wizards? I am an apprentice from Ollivanders Wand Shop. You ordered a batch of Magi-Alloy wands from our shop, and Mr. Ollivander instructed me to deliver them to you."
As he spoke, he opened his suitcase. From the small case, he pulled out dozens of one-meter-long iron rods.
"Payment has been received in full. The transaction is complete. Mr. Martin, please count them on behalf of everyone and sign the order form."
"..."
"Ah..." Martin was completely bewildered.
All the Magi-Metal Wizards were bewildered. When had they ordered Magi-Alloy wands? They had never even been to Ollivanders!
Not to mention payment—they could scrape together pounds and francs, but most of them had never even seen a Galleon, Sickle, or Knut. How could they have paid?
~~~
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