"Goblin? Greater power?"
Leonard frowned, finding this Ranrok highly suspicious.
He hadn't yet uncovered the connection between these historical records and the Transfiguration spell, but he had discovered numerous clues related to ancient magic. After all, unlike the Transfiguration spell, which might have been forcibly erased, traces of ancient magic—something that naturally faded over time—were far easier to preserve.
From the scattered fragments in the texts, Ranrok—the leader of the goblin rebellion—appeared to be an exceptionally troublesome figure. His power was formidable, surpassing most wizards of that era. The strength he wielded was something the majority of wizards couldn't hope to oppose.
And this goblin, whose power was arguably among the greatest of his time, having mastered goblin magic, modern magic, and dark magic, still craved even greater strength.
So what else could be considered more powerful than these?
Leonard dared to hypothesize: Ranrok was pursuing the power of ancient magic!
Then the question arose: Did he succeed?
Leonard believed it highly likely, for otherwise Professor Flitwick, a half-elf, could not possess the power of ancient magic. Though Professor Flitwick was half-elf, the human side of his lineage seemed devoid of ancient magical power. Otherwise, he would not have declared that ancient magic was "lost among wizards."
Clearly, Ranrok stole the power of ancient magic and preserved it through some method, keeping it alive within the goblin bloodline. However, it appears that without the activation of human blood, goblins cannot master ancient magic. Otherwise, Professor Flitwick, whose goblin lineage is the source, wouldn't have no information whatsoever.
"But for a goblin who wields goblin magic, modern magic, dark magic, and ancient magic to fall to a fifth-year student... well, that's... quite the twist," Leonard murmured, staring at the sparse notes in the book.
It was as if the heavens had predestined him to be the protagonist. And the peril he faced far surpassed Harry Potter's. What kind of trash was Voldemort? He merely understood modern dark magic, perhaps supplemented by blood-type magic potentially present in the Chamber of Secrets. He couldn't possibly compare to Ranrok, who wielded the power of ancient magic.
Even dark wizards of Voldemort's standing at the time had to collaborate with Ranrok. Compared to that, Voldemort's reputation was utterly disgraced.
But to take on an enemy like Ranrok? Leonard didn't buy that this fifth-year student hadn't mastered ancient magic. Clearly, this was another inheritor of ancient magic.
And judging by the timeline, this person wasn't too far removed from the present era.
"This unnamed fifth-year student would have graduated around 1891, in the 1890s. Back then...!!..."
Leonard mentally calculated the ages of those around him.
At that time, even Dumbledore hadn't yet graduated from Hogwarts. No, according to the birthdate Leonard had researched in his previous life, Dumbledore was only ten years old in 1891. He didn't enroll until 1892!
"So Professor Dumbledore grew up hearing legends about this predecessor," Leonard mused.
Though he hadn't uncovered any unexpected history regarding the Transfiguration spell, Leonard hadn't come up empty-handed. At the very least, he now knew that in recent times, there had been another inheritor of ancient magic. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, this predecessor might still be alive.
"But there's never been any word of this predecessor—otherwise Professor Flitwick wouldn't be unaware." Leonard closed the book, lost in thought.
The sudden flood of information was overwhelming, making his mind race. Hidden within these details lay countless undiscovered clues; Leonard needed time to properly digest them.
"That's enough for today," Leonard muttered, massaging his throbbing temples as he glanced at his pocket watch.
The hour hand was nearing twelve. He'd spent the entire morning reading—and that was skimming through pages at ten lines per glance. Otherwise, he'd never have covered modern history at all.
"It's this late already. Quirrell should be back by now, right?"
Leonard unfolded the Marauder's Map and scanned the names on it.
"Nothing? Quirrell really drags his feet. No wonder he can't accomplish anything significant."
Finding no trace, Leonard pursed his lips and rose to leave the library.
At this hour, he decided to head to the kitchen to sort out lunch. Going to the Great Hall for lunch meant only cold leftovers, and Leonard craved something hot. The house-elves would surely oblige.
...
Students who'd ventured to Hogsmeade finally returned, reluctant to leave, along the path leading back to the village as evening fell.
As a wizarding village, Hogsmeade naturally boasted excellent facilities. Both pubs and restaurants served piping hot meals. And the round trip from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade Village took over an hour, so students naturally didn't want to return early. They all timed their departure precisely.
George and Fred were no exception, though they had their own mode of transportation—they could fly back.
"Whoa!"
In the sky, Fred cheered as he dove down and landed in the courtyard of Hogwarts Castle, drawing countless envious stares from students.
Flying brooms were no cheap items. Even the old brooms provided by the school to the Quidditch team, which performed a Cleansweep on five-star ratings, cost dozens of Galleons—a hefty sum for many families. So despite the distance between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade Village, few students would ride their brooms there—the school-issued brooms weren't meant for private use.
"Ha ha, what a thrill! The Nimbus 2000 really delivers when accelerating," Fred exclaimed as he leapt off his broom.
"This is a Nimbus 2000—of course it accelerates fast! If we weren't carrying all these sweets, we could've gone even quicker," George replied, one arm cradling a large paper bag filled with sweet-smelling treats while the other held a wooden barrel.
The two chattered and laughed as they ran toward the castle with their cargo.
Not long after, Quirrell appeared in the courtyard, panting heavily as if he might collapse at any moment. Seeing the twins dash off with their brooms, a flicker of envy and resignation crossed his eyes.
He'd gone to Hogsmeade that morning, tricked Hagrid into using a dragon egg to deal with the Three-Headed Dog by noon, and started heading back after lunch. But due to exhaustion, he'd only just returned to the school.
And now, the moment he arrived, he saw the twins zooming by on broomsticks. Quirrell's mind exploded.