The Nimbus 2000 streaked in through a castle window and came to a smooth stop in the middle of the corridor.
Theodore and Filch slid down from the broom. Filch stared at him for a long moment, throat working, unable to speak.
At last, he managed:
"Come by my office when you have time. I've got all sorts of… interesting things there."
"If you ever want to know any secrets about the castle, I can dig them up for you."
"Anything at all."
A smile tugged at Theodore's lips.
"In that case, I might just strip your whole collection bare."
Then he added quietly:
"Mr Filch, what you told me—I'll keep it to myself."
"But I promise you this: maybe I can't give Squibs magic right away, but that day isn't as far as you think."
"And even before that, there will be ways for Squibs to enjoy the conveniences of magic."
"Trust me."
Filch's lips trembled. He suddenly gripped Theodore's hand and shook it hard.
"I believe you. That'll save me some tuition on those magic courses, at least."
Footsteps and excited chatter echoed from the staircase at the end of the corridor.
"There he is!"
Hearing the commotion of students rushing through the castle, Filch actually smiled. He turned away and shot Theodore a conspiratorial wink.
"Just this once, I'll make an exception for you. Fireworks in the castle—set off as many as you like. You earned the celebration."
On the stairs, Hermione, Harry and the others came pounding up with a crowd of students.
The Weasley twins brushed shoulders with Filch as they passed. The brothers exchanged a stunned look.
"Merlin's beard, did Filch the Horrible not show up to ruin the fun?"
"And did I just see him smiling? He actually has a normal smile that isn't that nasty little smirk?"
They didn't have time to dwell on it.
Because right now there was only one thing that mattered—celebration.
Like stage magicians, the twins whipped out armfuls of magical firecrackers from their robes and started shoving them into anyone's hands, house lines be damned.
A moment later, the corridor erupted into booming fireworks and glittering sparks.
Seamus Finnigan, the resident explosion artist, pointed his wand skyward, showering the air with crackling flames.
"To Theodore Ashbourne!"
Theodore could only give a wry smile as the whole crowd pressed around him, clearly preparing something dramatic.
"How about we don't," he said weakly. "This is a bit… much…"
In the next second, Ron hooked his arms under Theodore's legs and heaved. The other students surged forward, lifting Theodore bodily into the air.
They tossed him up high, catching him again and again, as if only like this could they vent the fear and tension that had been choking them—and drive away the lingering terror from earlier.
…
That floating, weightless feeling returned.
Theodore, astride his broom, landed quietly in the eighth-floor corridor.
Three days had passed since the inferno in the owlery.
In those three days, wherever Theodore went, eyes followed him. Wherever he sat, a crowd appeared.
Even at night, when he tried to slip out of bed for a bit of night roaming, he'd barely shift his legs before Harry and the others snapped awake, eyes gleaming, insisting they didn't want to miss his next adventure.
Today, during another flying lesson, while the young lions were drunk on the joy of flight, Theodore finally found a gap and broke away, heading straight for the Room of Requirement.
Once inside, he drew in a deep breath. Fire burned in his eyes.
He'd waited long enough. The second round of talent fusion… could finally begin.
"System—first, grant me the talents Sun and Moon Essence and Gathering Vital Breath."
At once, two new talents manifested again in the rewards panel.
Theodore felt the difference immediately.
He tilted his head back, looking up at the Room's enchanted ceiling. To test Sun and Moon Essence properly, he had deliberately asked the room to mimic the Great Hall's sky—linked to the real sky outside.
Right now, the ceiling showed bright daylight, a golden sun hanging above, warm light spilling down.
Within that sunlight, a gentle, pure spiritual energy poured into Theodore's body.
It wasn't like the wind-, water-, or earth-aspected spiritual qi he'd absorbed before. This was qi born directly from the great sun itself—pure, radiant, and especially potent at warding off evil.
At the same time, though it was day and the moon and stars were hidden, he still sensed a faint, cool thread of energy descending—qi from moonlight and starlight, hidden behind the blue.
Two apparently opposing types of spiritual qi blended together, softening each other, perfectly balanced.
The total amount was less than what Where Dragons Dwell, Spirit Stirs could pull from rivers, or what Earth-Spirit Primordial Soul could draw from the veins of the earth—but in quality, this Sun-and-Moon qi was clearly superior.
As Theodore continued to absorb, his breathing unconsciously settled into a special rhythm.
With each inhale and exhale, the flow of qi into his body ticked upward again—that was the effect of Gathering Vital Breath.
Right now, all the qi-gathering talents he possessed together meant he was drawing in far more spiritual energy than when he'd first gained Feed on Wind and Drink Dew.
But compared to the demands of the high-level talents and artifacts he held—the Twelve Golden Immortal–level stuff from the Chan Sect—this little trickle of qi wasn't even a drop in the ocean. It wasn't remotely enough.
With this rate of intake, if he wanted to cultivate things like the later stages of Eight-Nine Arcane Art, or refine Samadhi True Fire and Three-Lights Divine Water… he could cultivate for a thousand, ten thousand years, until his lifespan burnt out, and still not get there.
Only by fusing a supreme-level qi talent could he ever unleash the true potential of everything he'd obtained.
His gaze shifted to the talent fusion furnace icon on the system screen.
And froze in surprise.
A new line of text appeared.
[The host's fortune far exceeds that of ordinary people; base fusion success rate has increased.]
[The host's merit is deep; you may consume merit to further increase the success rate of talent fusion—and may even increase the tier of the resulting talent.]
[The host bears an item of luck. If a fusion fails, you may consume some of the luck contained in that item to prevent certain talents from being lost.]
"Consuming merit… doesn't just raise the success rate, but can actually raise the tier?"
"And that 'item of luck'—that's the badge Neville's gran sent me. If the fusion fails, it acts like some kind of… reinforcement protection charm to save some of the talents?"
For Theodore, that was a pleasant surprise.
His eyes hardened with resolve.
While his merit was thickest, and his fortune strongest—
He'd fuse the qi talents now.
And if he was going to fuse… he was going to fuse big. He'd throw the entire messy pile of related talents into the furnace.
He drew another breath.
"System—add Feed on Wind and Drink Dew, Sun and Moon Essence, Gathering Vital Breath, Earth-Spirit Primordial Soul, Where Dragons Dwell, Spirit Stirs—all those qi talents—into the fusion furnace."
"And also, shove in everything related to controlling the elements: Command Wind and Thunder, Free Control of Fire, Free Control of Water… all of them."
"And my merit—as long as it doesn't consume my original lifetime merit, use all the rest."
"Fuse them."
As his voice fell, the rewards panel—formerly so packed with talents that you could hardly see the background—blurred.
Lines of text and icons faded as if they were being dragged into some invisible vortex.
On the system screen, the fusion furnace erupted with light more dazzling than ever before.
The usual gold shifted—
Into chaos.
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