Kayson shrugged helplessly, and after sending Lupin away, he took out Bruce's ender pearl and threw it to the ground.
With a booming sound, Sirius appeared in the office, his dog face bewildered.
"Did Bruce miss me?" Kayson squinted, picked up Sirius, and walked smilingly towards the platform not far away.
A few Little Wizardss who were strolling by the Black Lake watched as a large black dog slowly glided towards them.
"What the heck?"
Kayson, seeing Sirius flying happily, had no intention of calling the happy dog back. After closing the French windows, he happily began to study the magic book in his hand. He felt that he could still combine and superimpose one magic after another to create even more powerful magic.
Until the next day...
"Wowowo... don't tell me you didn't sleep all night."
Lupin walked in and saw Kayson, who had a scruffy beard and dull eyes.
"No choice, this thing is too much fun," Kayson explained, raising the Newborn Magic Art Magic Book in his hand.
"So you stayed up all night?"
"Not only that, I've also made a few more magic talismans, like Wind Shear, which can be used like Severus's Sectumsempra, but with a larger attack range."
"There's also a Growth Talisman and a Naming Talisman. The former is nothing special, but the latter can, in a sense, be used as a Confundo. It's awesome!" Kayson said excitedly.
Lupin nodded: "Okay, okay, I know you're awesome now, but listen to me, you really need to rest... do you need a Stupefy?"
"Uh... okay."
"Stupefy." After Lupin finished the spell, he immediately cast a Levitation Charm, which carried Kayson back to his bedroom on the fourth floor, while Lupin shrugged helplessly and left.
It was another morning, and Kayson, with a bird's nest on his head, looked bewildered at the doubled amount of homework he had accumulated from not moving for just one day.
???
But he quickly found the optimal solution, swaying towards the wine cabinet, which helped him quickly sober up.
Just then, Dumbledore appeared in his office without a word, grabbed his shoulder, and tried to Apparate Kayson away... but failed.
Kayson's face fell: "You really think my office is a wet market, where you can come and go as you please, huh?"
"Alright." Dumbledore helplessly walked towards the scattered pile of boats in the corner, intending to leave by boat.
Kayson returned behind his desk, pulled out a remote control, and pressed it. With a click, the smooth ice path was instantly retracted beneath the floor, revealing the bluestone floor once more.
"Kayson... are you really going to make me walk out?" Dumbledore said pitifully.
"Otherwise, wouldn't I have set up my ender pearl to allow entry but no exit for nothing? Of course, you can also tell me how urgent your so-called matter is. If it's very urgent, I'll turn off the restriction, but if the truth is that it's not that urgent... hmph." Kayson shook his head and said.
"Of course it's an extremely urgent matter!" Dumbledore said dryly.
Kayson nodded helplessly, turned off the ender restriction, and then allowed Dumbledore to take him away.
...
International Wizards' Conference Hall...
"Dumbledore... how should I put this? You tricked me again. Is your extremely urgent matter just accompanying you to brag at the International Wizards' Conference?" Kayson slapped Dumbledore's shoulder hard, saying through gritted teeth.
"This isn't just about me, and it's not an unimportant matter! Do you think Hogwarts doesn't care about its reputation?" Dumbledore explained.
"I should have been enjoying wine in my office..." Kayson put his hands on his hips and walked towards the window, looking at the scenery outside and sighing helplessly, then continued.
"So, you should be very good at bragging, right? Why did you call me over?"
"I've already made arrangements with Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Next semester, the three schools will restart an ancient competition," Dumbledore said.
"So... what does that have to do with me?" Kayson asked, bewildered.
"This competition is called the Triwizard Tournament, and it's a competition participated in by these three schools. Each school needs to send out a champion, and the champion is chosen by an ancient Alchemy device."
"And now this Alchemy device, it's broken?" Kayson asked back.
"Exactly."
"Can't you just find Nicolas Flamel? He's lived for so long, he must know how to fix it, and I don't know how to fix that thing at all, I know nothing about Alchemy!" Kayson said with a deadpan expression, somewhat helplessly.
"The Alchemy Professors from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons have already been there and failed. I've bragged to them, so don't let me down!" Dumbledore said.
"Is it still too late for me to leave now?"
"Of course not."
Kayson regretted it, and followed Dumbledore into a small conference room, still bewildered.
Four people were already seated in the conference room: a tall, elegant lady, and an old man with a goatee.
On the other side was a tall man with a full beard and long hair swept back, and next to him sat a Witch wearing a black trench coat.
"This is Madame Maxime, Principal of Beauxbatons, and Professor Pond, Alchemy Professor of Beauxbatons," Dumbledore introduced, gesturing towards the tall Witch and the old Wizard.
"Oh, hello."
"This is the Principal of Durmstrang, you can call him Principal Karkaroff, and Miss Roserma, Alchemy Professor."
Kayson still nodded and greeted them, bewildered.
The four people from the two schools were also very curious about this name, which was active in Alchemy papers.
However, putting everything else aside, perhaps because Kayson had just woken up today and hadn't had time to wash up, resulting in a less-than-ideal appearance, the two Alchemy Professors showed no slighting towards him. They clearly knew what the papers written by this young man represented.
But the two Principals were different, especially Madame Maxime's expression, which couldn't help but become awkward. When she thought about how she had previously considered reassigning the current Alchemy Professor to raise winged horses and then recruiting such a Professor into the school, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of relief, accompanied by a hint of shame.
Because her plan at the time had not succeeded.
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