"Expecto Patronum."
The Patronus Charm—also known as the Patronus Guardian spell.
One of the oldest and most powerful defensive magics in existence, capable of driving off Dementors, Lethifolds, and other dark magical creatures.
To cast it, the wizard had to focus their mind on a single, deeply happy memory and summon a silvery guardian.
These Patronuses usually took the form of animals, and legend said the shape revealed something about the caster's true personality.
Lucien quickly ran through everything he knew about the spell in his head, then gave Salazar a short summary.
"That's the one," Salazar confirmed with a nod. "It reveals the nature of the caster's soul. Most witches and wizards produce ordinary animals—cats, dogs, stags, that sort of thing. A few manage magical creatures like dragons or phoenixes."
He paused. A meaningful glint flickered in his vertical pupils as he looked at Lucien.
"An extremely small number summon even rarer forms—extinct ancient beasts or creatures straight out of myth and legend. Have you ever heard of a Greek wizard named Andros? He could conjure a Patronus in the shape of a giant. According to the stories, his guardian wasn't just for defense against Dementors—it could be used in direct combat."
"It shouldn't be difficult for you," Salazar added. "Practice a little and you'll get it."
Lucien nodded.
He was of course familiar with the Patronus Charm; he simply hadn't bothered to master it yet.
A Patronus you could actually fight with?
Ordinary ones only drove off Dementors, and the more advanced use was sending messages. But this Andros guy could make his fight?
He must have had an incredibly "brilliant" soul. Still… a giant Patronus? That felt a bit over the top.
As for the idea that the Patronus reflected the soul's true nature…
Lucien was genuinely curious about that part.
Because strictly speaking, his own soul didn't belong to this world at all.
He was a traveler from another realm—his soul had crossed over into this magical universe.
So what on earth would his Patronus look like?
He pushed the thought aside for now and asked another question.
"Headmaster Slytherin, human wizards also possess magic circuits. So why don't we have any innate magical abilities the way magical creatures—those '异種' you mentioned—do?"
Salazar gave him an approving glance, as if the question pleased him.
"Our strength isn't 'innate,'" he said. "It's learned. It's compatibility."
He raised his hand slightly. A flame appeared in his palm, then swiftly turned into clear water, condensed into ice crystals, and finally faded away into nothing.
"It's really quite simple. A fire dragon could never learn the racial magic of a merperson, and a merperson could never breathe fire like a dragon. But a human wizard can master both Fiery Inferno and Water-Making Charm…"
Lucien nodded thoughtfully. It made sense. Human magic might not be as overwhelmingly powerful as a magical creature's inborn abilities, but it had breadth. Pick up a little here, a little there, and in the end you became the most versatile being of all.
"When we founded Hogwarts back then," Salazar continued, his voice growing distant with memory, "it wasn't only to protect wizards from witch hunts. We also understood how important systematic learning was. In our era, the strong were truly strong, but the weak were truly weak. Most wizards back then didn't know half as many spells as you young ones do today. Plenty of them couldn't even cast a decent Shield Charm. When danger came, they relied on nothing but raw instinct and luck."
A nostalgic look crossed his eyes as he spoke.
Lucien listened quietly, his mind drifting to the history of Hogwarts.
The four founders—Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin—had been the greatest witches and wizards of their time.
To Lucien, it had been a meeting of geniuses, an alliance of the strongest. Having peers of equal talent and depth in their respective fields to exchange ideas with was an incredible stroke of fortune.
And even though their philosophies eventually diverged and their paths split, they had still given the wizarding world a future: a school where young witches and wizards could learn and grow in safety.