Upon hearing Harry's answer, Dumbledore smiled, visibly relieved.
"It's Legilimens, the spell is Legilimens."
He placed the candy beetle back into the jar.
"But don't worry, I don't use this spell on young witches and wizards." Dumbledore smiled, his expression full of the wisdom of his age. "I've lived long enough, Harry. For a man over a hundred, what an eleven-year-old is thinking is written all over his face."
"That's true." Harry smiled and set the cup back on the table, keeping his head bowed.
Seeing Harry's restraint, Dumbledore said, "Well, it's getting late, I won't prolong our conversation — go back and get some sleep, Harry. Forget what happened today."
"Yes, Professor," Harry replied politely.
Dumbledore blinked, his half-moon glasses glinting with quiet wisdom.
"I prefer to be called Professor, not Director."
"Yes, Professor," Harry agreed promptly.
After Harry left, Dumbledore remained seated, lost in thought for a long while. Harry reminded him of someone from the past: Newt Scamander, a former Hufflepuff student and renowned magizoologist.
He had no doubt that Harry was the same person from a hundred years ago; after all, time travel was known, but traveling a whole century was unprecedented. Moreover, the current Harry was not only an eleven-year-old freshman but also a child he had seen born, someone he himself had sent to the Dursleys.
Meanwhile, the Harry Potter who had "died" with Lanlock a century ago had been a sixth-year student.
Only someone truly insane would entertain such an absurd suspicion.
"The magic of love… it really is wonderful, isn't it?" Dumbledore murmured to himself, though his words seemed directed also at Fawkes.
The phoenix tilted his head and chirped twice.
The next morning, shortly after breakfast, Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, headed to the eighth floor of the castle.
It was Sunday, and there were no scheduled classes. Ron planned to play wizard's chess.
Pointing at the painting of the troll defeating Barnaby, he said, "Look, this picture is really interesting."
"The Troll Defeating Barnaby," Hermione explained, giving Ron some context.
"How do you know all this?" Ron asked, a bit deflated. "I get the impression you're more like a child born in a wizarding family…"
"Reading more books does you good," Hermione replied, touching her temple with her finger.
While they were talking, Harry had already prepared the model for the Room of Requirement.
A large door suddenly appeared on the wall opposite the painting, startling Ron and Hermione.
"This is where we'll practice dueling," Harry explained. "From now on, it will be our secret base—"
"A secret base, really?" Ron seemed more interested in those words than anything else. "Wow, I bet Fred and George don't know this place exists!"
"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked, intrigued.
"If they knew, I'd know too," Ron shrugged.
The three children pushed the door open and stepped inside, finding a professional training area for spell practice.
The walls were mirrored, thick mats were stacked in the corners, and at the back of the room stood a row of dummies holding wands.
"Awesome!" Ron exclaimed, drawing his wand. "It's a shame it's secret, otherwise Fred and George would be green with envy!"
"So, what spell should we practice?" Hermione asked.
"Something Professor Quirrell wouldn't teach us," Harry said succinctly, "like the most basic dueling spell — the Disarming Spell."
He walked to the center of the room and conjured a dummy holding a wand.
"Look, like this… Expelliarmus!"
A red beam shot from the tip of Harry's wand, hitting the dummy's hand. The wand spun and flew toward Harry, who caught it.
"This is a simple Disarming Spell." Harry placed the wand back in the dummy's hand.
"This is the Disarming Spell?" Ron scratched his head. "Why doesn't it look very impressive? It's not as… flashy as I imagined."
"Truly powerful spells are simple and unadorned," Harry explained. "The way you use a spell is infinitely variable… like the Levitation Spell you used before."
While speaking, Harry gently lifted a small stool with his wand: "Wingardium Leviosa—"
"See, like this."
He waved the wand firmly, and the stool jolted into the air.
"What if we do this?"
Harry placed the stool down, used the Disarming Spell again to knock the wand from the dummy, and then applied the Levitation Spell to control the wand, speeding it up and driving it into the dummy's eye.
"That's really brutal…" Hermione frowned.
"Brutal?" Harry was still amazed with himself, thinking that this was a child in a peaceful era.
In his school days, classmates feared that spells weren't powerful enough to effectively harm dark wizards.
"Dark wizards don't care about civility, Hermione," Harry said. "They're cruel and merciless. Look at the Death Eaters who tortured Neville's parents, for instance. When you fight them, do you think you can be civil? No, at that moment, you only care if your spells are strong enough."
"Yes, Hermione," Ron said. "Dark wizards are cunning and ruthless…"
"Exactly," Hermione agreed with a nod.
Harry patted Ron on the shoulder and demonstrated in slow motion: "Swing your wands like this — horizontal, vertical… Expelliarmus!"
"Expelliarmus!" Ron pointed his wand at the dummy.
The tension in the room was palpable; nothing happened.
Not just Ron, but Hermione was also hesitant.
Harry patiently corrected them, and after more than half an hour, Hermione was the first to master the spell. Shortly after, competitive Ron did too.
While they practiced, Harry's mind wandered.
Undoubtedly, his most efficient spell at the time was the Disarming Spell.
Villatia had suggested improving it: her idea was to use another magic to mark the target and then chain the Disarming Spell.
In simple terms, it meant using a single Disarming Spell to hit multiple enemies simultaneously.
Theoretically, if several opponents were close together, one spell could disarm them all at once; but Villatia's approach was even more advanced: to disarm multiple enemies at a distance, even very far away, with a single spell.
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