"You're saying Logan has completely recovered? No lasting damage at all?"
Even Dumbledore sounded genuinely shocked.
Professor McGonagall calmly pulled out a chair and sat opposite him before replying, "Yes. Madam Pomfrey examined him personally this morning. He was already walking around normally, and there doesn't appear to be any hidden damage left behind."
Dumbledore fell silent.
To describe this as incredible would have been an understatement.
A first-year wizard suffering magical exhaustion severe enough to collapse should not have recovered overnight. Under normal circumstances, the damage alone would have required weeks—if not months—of treatment.
And yet Logan had recovered after sleeping for one evening.
No matter how unbelievable it sounded, the facts were sitting directly in front of him.
In some ways, this matter was even more alarming than Logan potentially being connected to an Obscurus.
Seeing Dumbledore's rare expression of astonishment made McGonagall feel considerably better. After all, she herself had looked no calmer when she first heard the diagnosis last night.
With faint satisfaction, she slowly explained everything Madam Pomfrey had discovered regarding Logan's recovery.
A few moments later, Dumbledore leaned back in thought.
Some strange energy hidden inside Logan's body was constantly repairing and replenishing him.
But what exactly was it?
No magical creature Dumbledore knew possessed an ability quite like this.
If Logan had inherited the bloodline of some ancient magical species, Dumbledore honestly wouldn't have found it surprising. Yet on the surface, the boy appeared completely human.
Unless…
There really was something extraordinary hidden within his bloodline.
Combined with Logan's bizarre control over overwhelming magical power, his future potential was becoming increasingly terrifying.
If not for the prophecy surrounding Harry Potter, Dumbledore genuinely believed Logan might eventually surpass Voldemort himself.
That thought lingered in his mind for a long while.
Perhaps…
Perhaps there was nothing wrong with preparing two possible paths for the future.
If Logan continued growing at this pace, there was every chance that even Voldemort would eventually fall before him.
Which meant Logan could become a backup plan.
Of course, before reaching any conclusions, Dumbledore needed to understand the boy more thoroughly first.
And that raised another problem.
How exactly was he supposed to do that?
....
Elsewhere inside Hogwarts, George Weasley crouched behind a nearby statue while secretly aiming a strange camera-like device towards Logan across the corridor.
Click.
Another photograph.
"Oi, George, what are you doing?"
Fred suddenly appeared behind him and slapped his shoulder hard enough to nearly make George drop the camera.
George jumped violently.
"Keep your voice down!" he hissed while frantically looking around. "Do you want Logan to notice?"
Fred stared at him suspiciously.
"Hold on… are you secretly taking pictures of Logan?"
George immediately put on a deeply serious expression.
"You need to understand something important," he whispered solemnly. "While it is technically true that I'm secretly photographing Logan, I'm doing it entirely for legitimate business purposes."
Fred blinked.
That explanation somehow made things even more suspicious.
"You're planning some sort of prank, aren't you?" Fred accused. "Please tell me you're not stupid enough to prank Logan."
He pointed dramatically towards the corridor where students continued whispering excitedly about the troll incident.
"That's Logan Anderson we're talking about! The first-year lunatic who killed a troll!"
Fred lowered his voice further.
"He's already the professors' favourite student, half the girls in Hogwarts are obsessed with him, and after last night his reputation's basically exploded."
According to Fred's observations, seven out of every ten girls at Hogwarts currently had crushes on Logan.
Two were openly flirting already.
And the remaining one was probably secretly in love with him but too shy to admit it.
Even older students had begun paying attention to him.
Absolutely shameless behaviour, in Fred's opinion.
Older witches dreaming about dating younger boys truly deserved harsh criticism.
And perhaps a little envy.
George would have to be insane to prank someone like Logan now. If word got out, every girl in the castle would probably hunt the twins down personally.
Fred immediately placed a hand over his heart dramatically.
"George, my beloved twin brother," he declared mournfully, "we've shared over a decade of brotherhood together, and I've cherished every moment of it."
He wiped away imaginary tears.
"But from this day forward, I officially sever all ties with you. Your suicidal pranks have nothing to do with me anymore."
George stared at him flatly.
"What rubbish are you talking about?" he snapped. "I'd never prank Logan."
Fred paused immediately.
"Oh."
His expression changed at lightning speed.
"So we're still brothers then."
George rolled his eyes before lowering his voice again.
"I'm collecting photographs of Logan because I've got another idea entirely."
He leaned closer and quietly explained his plan.
As Fred listened, his eyes gradually lit up brighter and brighter.
By the end, he looked completely inspired.
"George…" he whispered reverently. "You're a genius."
The plan was perfect.
Not only would it massively increase the twins' popularity at Hogwarts, but it would also make them an absolute fortune.
After all, the more famous Logan became, the more valuable their idea would become too.
Customers might earn a little.
But the Weasley twins would never lose.
And so, while the brothers secretly plotted their next great business empire—
Elsewhere on the Quidditch pitch, Oliver Wood was opening a large leather case in front of Harry.
Wood expertly undid the buckles before looking up seriously.
"The special thing about Quidditch," he explained earnestly, "is that the game uses three different balls at once. It's not just about speed—it's also about strategy."
Harry listened attentively while Wood continued introducing the sport properly.
"The game is played in the air between two teams of seven players. There's one Keeper, three Chasers, two Beaters, and one Seeker per team."
Wood reached into the case and pulled out a bright red ball.
"This is the Quaffle. The Chasers pass it between themselves and try to score by throwing it through the opposing team's hoops. Every successful goal earns ten points."
He tossed the Quaffle aside before carefully removing two black iron balls.
"These are Bludgers."
The moment Wood released them, the balls immediately shot into the air and attempted to smash directly into Harry's head.
Harry ducked in panic.
Wood quickly restrained them again.
"Bludgers attack players constantly during matches. The Beaters protect their teammates while also redirecting the Bludgers towards the opposing side."
Finally, Wood opened the smallest compartment in the case.
Inside rested a tiny golden ball no larger than a walnut, complete with delicate silver wings fluttering rapidly against its sides.
Wood's expression immediately became much more serious.
"And this…"
He carefully lifted it into his palm.
"…is the Golden Snitch."
.....
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