Chapter 349: The End of Modern Magic?

Chapter 349: The End of Modern Magic?

Professor Felix Harp, with a tinge of disappointment, wasn't able to glean much information from Beauxbatons. In fact, he sensed a faint notion of alliance forming, and being both a professor at Hogwarts and a trustee at Beauxbatons, he seemed the most suitable intermediary.

However, rushing to join hands without even knowing the details of the competition was perhaps overthinking the situation.

He had no intention of getting involved.

If he had to choose between the two schools, there was no doubt he'd side with Hogwarts. Just as if you were to ask Nicolas Flamel the same question, his answer would certainly lean towards Beauxbatons.

Over the next few days, Felix stayed in the library at Beauxbatons, poring over fascinating materials to enrich his knowledge.

His greatest gain wasn't a specific spell, but rather a fresh perspective on knowledge itself.

Felix's greatest insight came not from a particular spell, but from a new way of looking at knowledge. It was as if he had discovered a different angle of perception.

Felix's early discovery in the alumni donation section of the library was quite revealing. Just like Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, these schools acquired new books every year to enhance their libraries. Yet, apart from this, they also accepted donations from their alumniprecious ancient texts and the academic achievements of renowned graduates.

For instance, Professor McGonagall's insights into transfiguration, Flitwick's charms research, Snape's potion formulationsall, if not bequeathed to specific heirs, would ultimately find their place at Hogwarts.

However, Felix noticed a subtle difference between Beauxbatons' collection on a particular spell and what he already knew. This wasn't just an individual's deviation; it was a systemic divergence.

This feeling couldn't be put into words, but it existed tangibly. It was like two compass needles, one slightly skewed to the left by 0.01 degrees and the other by 0.01 degrees to the right.

Between them lay Beauxbatons and Hogwarts.

...

On a deep, moonlit night, when the sky was as pure as a piece of black velvet, barely a few days after the full moon had passed.

In a makeshift office, Felix Harp laid out a piece of parchment, attempting to jot down a sudden burst of inspirationThi/s chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.co/m

"If you place a fine veil before your eyes, over time, it becomes unseen by natural sight. It doesn't impair your vision, yet it exists distinctly.

Using colors to represent the distinction, Hogwarts is transparent silver-white, while Beauxbatons is deep ocean bluethough it's not about colors, it's about how everything you see becomes tinged with that hue."

"Perhaps this is the difference in magical perception brought about by subtle cultural nuances. It doesn't affect spellcasting, yet..." He paused, pondering deeply.

Felix couldn't help but reflect if he was being too sensitive, but soon he found a way to test this theory.

The next day, he borrowed a stack of thick tomes from the Beauxbatons library.

He then used the Occlumency technique to temporarily block his understanding of the Ironclad Charm, including the humanoid Ironclad variant and all its derivative spells. He even sealed off all knowledge related to those spells. Afterward, he picked up one of the hefty books and started reading about the Ironclad Charm from the beginning.

This process was awkward; every time familiar magical knowledge surfaced, he'd block it out immediately, treating himself like a blank parchment, a novice wizard knowing nothing.

But how to achieve this was previously beyond him.

Now, he finally had a directionto amalgamate the understandings of the two Ironclad Charms. Perhaps, it could lead to the creation of a seventh-level spell. He wasn't certain, but it was worth a try.

The power of a seventh-level spell was secondary; Felix estimated it wouldn't surpass the ancient spells he had already mastered. However, this endeavor might offer him a glimpse into the true essence of the Ironclad Charm.

Yes, the true essence.

He had always been curiouswould modern magic eventually be constrained by numerous limitations? Or, to rephrase, was the culmination of modern magic the transformation of magic into a wizard's instinct, to be controlled with ease?

Just like he mentioned to the young wizards at the Magical Linguistics Club, "Perhaps we're merely reclaiming the instinct of spellcasting."

Just as he could easily produce a Lumos or an Aguamenti spell by thinking about it. There was no need for an incantation; it was a matter of simply 'wanting' the outcome. It was similar to how untrained young wizards, when faced with danger, could perform inexplicable feats through the sheer power of their emotions.

Yet, Felix's magical instincts were stronger; he didn't need to amplify his emotions.

He had once read a sentence in a book, "The magical eruptions of young wizards might not be overwhelmingly powerful, but each eruption is a splendid medley of complex magic. In that moment of magical flourish, they are gods who can do anything."

...

Mulling over things, Felix thought the reason the same spell had two different forms was likely because he had been in a state of partial blindness, only touching upon a fraction of true magic.

It was like two climbers starting from the same point but then choosing different paths, only to meet again at the summit, discovering more than one route to the top. Or perhaps, they met midway, collaborated, and together completed the final stretch.

He recorded these speculations, storing them in his Pensieve. For young wizards, these notions were utterly fanciful, on par with "The Little Wizard Mick's Adventures." Yet, for those devoted to magical theory, they were undoubtedly treasures.

On the eve of the new term, Felix bid farewell to Madame Maxim, promising to welcome the Beauxbatons students to Hogwarts in October. He made a detour to Diagon Alley to entrust the company affairs to Lupin, who reluctantly pulled out his wand before Felix returned to Hogwarts.

Back in his long-forgotten Ancient Runes office, Felix felt surprisingly at ease. From his pocket, he retrieved a silver pocket watch, and out came Snuffles, carrying a Merlin's Order of Distinction around its neck and holding an hourglass in its paws, eagerly surveying its surroundings. The message was clearCan I dig for treasure holes here?

Felix glanced at it, and suddenly, a feather quill on the table sprang up and transfigured into a small stool. Snuffles immediately straightened its posture and waved its paws, sighing.

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