Chapter 130: Squib's Magic
The next day, on his way to Charms class, Ethan saw Filch, his eyes red, pouring bottle after bottle of cleaner onto the wall. Yet the words remained stubbornly etched into the stone, showing no signs of fading.
"What garbage! 'Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover'? This is a scam!" Filch threw the packaging to the ground, cursing.
The words, still glowing brightly in the firelight, seemed to mock him, only making him angrier.
He paced back and forth, lying in wait for whoever had attacked Mrs. Norris.
Though only one night had passed, everyone knew about the incident. Seeing Filch even more ferocious than usual, everyone gave him a wide berth.
"Let's go," Ethan said to his roommates, who had been watching from the corridor entrance before stepping up behind him.
After class, Ethan went straight to the Headmaster's office.
Thankfully, Dumbledore hadn't changed the password, so Ethan reached the office without difficulty.
"Why are you here?" the old man asked, looking up from his letter, surprised by Ethan's arrival.
"Headmaster, I came to borrow something," Ethan said with a smile.
"I'm not lending you anything. You still haven't returned what you borrowed last time." The old man pretended to be angry.
"Oh, come on, Headmaster. It's not like you're using them. I need them right now. Once my Transfiguration improves, I'll return the locket." Ethan touched the brooch pinned to his chest and grinned.
"Out with it. What do you want to borrow?" The old man rolled his eyes.
"I need to borrow that magic-measuring crystal ball for a while."
"Hmm? Did you have another magical surge? Has your power increased?" The old man's gaze sharpened.
"Not at all. I just want to use it to test Filch." Ethan waved his hand, brushing the question aside.
"He's a Squib. Why would you test his magic level? What are you planning?"
"Do Squibs truly have no magic at all? They're born to wizarding families, after all. Are you sure there isn't even a trace of magic in them?"
Dumbledore was stumped. "I really don't know. It seems no one has ever truly investigated whether Squibs actually lack magic; they only note that Squibs never experience accidental magic and can't cast spells."
The old man grew intrigued and retrieved the crystal ball from his study. "Wait a moment. Let me finish this letter, and I'll accompany you."
A few minutes later, Dumbledore finished the letter, tied it to Fawkes's leg, and sent him off.
Following Ethan, Dumbledore found Filch in the corridor.
Looking at the writing on the wall, Dumbledore drew his wand and prepared to cast a spell.
"Not yet." Ethan raised a hand to stop him and pulled two wands from his bag.
Seeing the puzzled looks on their faces, he said, "These are alchemy wands made by Fred and George. One's for Scourgify, the other's for Tergeo."
"What do you mean? Are you mocking me?!" The caretaker's face flushed deep red. If Dumbledore hadn't been standing right there, he would have rushed forward and grabbed Ethan by the collar.
"The first few spells don't require any magic, Mr. Filch. You can try." He held out the two wands toward the caretaker.
"I don't think Ethan would joke about this, Filch. You can try it. I've heard of them. Though they're a bit mischievous, they're truly skilled alchemists." Dumbledore vouched for Ethan.
Filch still didn't quite believe it, but with Dumbledore present, he took one of the wands anyway.
"How do I use this?" Filch held the wand, at a loss.
"It's very simple. Just hold the wand, aim at the target, and recite the spell with the correct pronunciation."
It was extremely strange: an alchemy wand that still required an incantation. That was the main reason Fred and the others couldn't sell them. They only worked for simple prank spells, and anyone who could recite the incantation could cast them anyway.
"I can't cast spells."
"It's simple," Ethan said, pointing to the one with the red sticker. "This is the Scourgify wand. The incantation is..."
Ethan taught him how to pronounce the two spells, then let him try.
"Scourgify," Filch said. He was extremely nervous. It was his first time casting a spell.
Copying the wand movements he'd secretly watched others use, he gripped the handle, pointed it at the writing on the wall, and recited the incantation.
A jet of light shot from the wand's tip, erasing part of the writing on the wall.
"I did it? I actually did it!" He looked from the wand in his hand to the wall, overcome with emotion. Filch sank to the ground, weeping with joy as he stared at the stone surface.
Dumbledore watched the scene, his eyes narrowing slightly as he contemplated the potential uses for such a wand.
Students passing by spotted Filch sitting on the floor. Unsure of what had happened, they just wanted to get away from any potential trouble as quickly as possible.
The caretaker had acted strangely earlier that morning, assigning detentions to several students for the ridiculous offense of "breathing too loudly."
Dumbledore said, "Get up, Filch. Go to your office. There is one more matter that requires your assistance."
"Right, just give me a moment." Still brimming with excitement, Filch got to his feet and cast several more spells at the wall.
"What happened? Can't use it anymore?" Some of the writing still needed to be erased, but the wand could no longer hold a charge.
"It needs a magical recharge."
Dumbledore cleaned away the final traces of the writing. "That brings us to the second purpose. Let us go to your office. It is not wise to discuss this here."
Visibly disappointed, Filch led the two of them to his somewhat cramped office.
Dumbledore produced a crystal ball. "This is for measuring magical potential. Ethan suspects you might possess some latent magic, and he suggested we test you."
"Since those two wands need to be recharged after use, if you have any magic of your own, you should be able to recharge them yourself," Ethan explained.
There was another reason he kept to himself. He wanted to determine whether Squibs truly had no magical power at all, or if their reserves were simply too small to cast even a basic spell.
It was a question he had pondered since he first learned about Squibs, but he had never had the chance to test it.
Dumbledore had Filch place his hand on the crystal ball and hold it steady.
Five minutes later, Dumbledore watched the first star shine slightly brighter than the others, then fell into deep thought.
"What's the result?" Filch asked apprehensively, his loose skin trembling slightly.
"You do possess some magic, but it is extremely weak, likely less than one percent of a normal first-year's."
Looking at the nearly imperceptible light, Dumbledore offered a generous estimate.
"That means you can recharge the wand yourself, just at a slower pace," Ethan said with deliberate tact.
"Really? That's great!" Even this meager amount of magic was enough to make Filch ecstatic.
"Mr. Filch, please keep your ability to cast spells with alchemical wands a secret for now. Don't tell anyone." Dumbledore read Filch's mind instantly.
"Very well." He was itching to share his joy with his Squib friends, but Dumbledore's words dampened his excitement. He didn't fully understand the reasoning behind it.
"We cannot be certain that everyone in your position possesses magical power. Therefore, we must investigate further," the old man explained patiently, worried that Filch might not understand.
Dumbledore finally offered his assurance. "But I promise you, I will find a solution as soon as possible. When that time comes, you may write to whomever you wish, to your heart's content."
"Understood. Thank you, Professor." Filch looked gratefully into the eyes behind Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles.
"You are welcome. We shall take our leave now, Argus." Tucking the crystal ball away, Dumbledore led Ethan back to the Headmaster's office.
"How did you know that Squibs might possess magic?" Ethan asked. Dumbledore set the crystal ball on the table, gently polishing it as he looked at him.
"I wasn't sure. It was merely a hunch. After all, someone born of a wizarding line couldn't be entirely without a trace of magic, could they?"
"That does make sense. We've simply paid far too little attention to Squibs in the past. It never occurred to me that those who displayed no apparent aptitude for wizardry might still harbor magic within them."
Dumbledore had to admit that few wizards paid much attention to Squibs. Even their own families usually encouraged them to integrate into the Muggle world once their inability to cast spells was confirmed.
"Let's head back. I believe this is truly a remarkable discovery."
"Yes."
On the way back, Ethan mused over the implications. If Squibs possessed magical energy, did that mean Muggle-born wizards like Hermione actually had a magical parent as well? Perhaps their magic was simply weaker than that of Squibs?
This theory couldn't be verified immediately, but he was now certain that wizarding bloodlines carried magic.
If wizarding bloodlines could carry magic, then surely the bloodlines of other magical creatures could as well. It stood to reason. However, Snape had mentioned that similar experiments had been conducted in the past with no success. What was the missing piece?
Ethan couldn't figure it out, but he also knew he lacked the means to conduct any experiments himself. First, there were no suitable subjects. Second, he had no solid plan, certainly nothing different from methods already proven ineffective.
"Still a long way to go." Sighing, Ethan entered the Great Hall for dinner.
The day flew by, and soon it was evening. The twins cornered Ethan in the Great Hall while he was eating.
"Blimey, what did you do?" Fred asked. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost. "Filch ran into us this afternoon and actually bowed to us. He even thanked us for the alchemical wands we made." George looked just as shaken.
"Oh?" Ethan hadn't expected Filch to react like that.
"This morning..." Ethan quickly recounted what had happened.
*A Squib? I really didn't see that coming. But the idea that he actually had magic inside him is even harder to believe.* Fred was stunned.
"Then doesn't that mean we could sell wands to every Squib out there?" George realized he'd stumbled upon a new business opportunity.
"Exactly. Once Dumbledore confirms that Squibs actually possess magic and lets Filch spread the word, you two could make a killing." Ethan smiled and nodded.
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