allendalepharm Chapter 97 I really like this book
Chapter 97 I really like this book
Chapter 97 I really like this book
"Magic isn't difficult at all!"
Hermione once proudly told her parents, who were curious about her experience at wizarding school, this.
She learns quickly and understands easily. While her peers are still struggling with what their professors teach in class, she has already effortlessly mastered a lot of other knowledge that is not taught in class by holding thick books in the library.
She is proud.
She has every right to be proud.
But this pride was soon shattered.
No one knows how horrified she was watching Ron use the Levitation Charm to knock out the troll of the XXXX danger level, and watching Harry use the Disarm Charm to knock away the seemingly unshakeable Quidditch cue.
This is unreasonable!
The book says that the Levitation Charm can only control objects that do not exceed one's own weight, and it cannot apply any additional force. Even the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic cannot do it, but Ron did.
The book also says that the Disarming Charm is used to disarm, which is a method to restrain wizards' dependence on wands. It is used to deal with small wooden sticks, but Harry easily knocked away a 15-meter-long golf club that was as tall as a five-story building.
This is no longer even a matter of magical power.
This isn't scientific! Oh no, this isn't magic!
However, Professor Lockhart told her, "Child, this is magic."
Is this magic?
Hermione never knew that magic could be used as an adjective until she saw Luna, who had only been enrolled for half a year, easily master the Patronus Charm and conjure a lively rabbit at the Duel Club.
The way she did it so naturally, as if she was born to understand it, and she suddenly had an epiphany.
Yes, it's magical.
The book says that the Guardian Charm is one of the oldest spells, and only a very few people in the world can summon a Guardian in its complete form.
She once thought it was because it was extremely difficult and challenging.
But actually it's not difficult; magic isn't difficult at all.
Magic is like that big, round-faced kitten that wags its tail and comes to you affectionately when you call it.
Some people are naturally attractive to animals, and can easily get along with even completely unfamiliar animals. Others simply show great kindness, squatting there and meowing "meow~ meow~", and even kittens will only watch them warily and then run away in fright if they move even slightly.
Very good, she has already understood the characteristics of magic. Now how do we find a solution?
I don't know, it's difficult, and there's no answer in the book.
Yes, some books do mention it, but they only use an arrogant tone full of pure-blood supremacy to say that wizards rely on bloodlines and the power of their blood, and that others without that bloodline can never achieve anything in their entire lives.
She was once in despair, and even Professor Lockhart agreed with this view, saying that wizarding is a game for the gifted.
But Professor Lockhart also said that the gift of the mind is also a path they can walk, allowing themselves to resonate with magic, step into the romance of fairy tale adventures, and magic will naturally blossom—that's the principle.
Conversely, the decreasing number of purebloods intermarrying has led to psychological defects in the offspring of pureblood families, with some even developing intellectual disabilities. These individuals find it difficult to embark on the path of enhancing their spiritual talents.
Step into a fairy tale and magic will naturally unfold?
Hermione felt confused at one point, wondering if it was because she was too rational that she could hardly become someone like the crazy Luna.
Lockhart, however, used himself as an example, saying that he was also a rational person, the kind of person who could propose "defense strategies for black magic that target specific characteristics," but who could also appreciate the beauty of magic.
Ok.
Hermione is willing to try.
Then something very strange happened.
In this adventure, she tried to feel the "call to adventure" mentioned by Professor Lockhart, and began to connect with her grandmother in the story. So she resolutely put on a bright red cloak, mounted a white horse, and embarked on an adventure.
She seemed to really feel it.
Even though she was still a Muggle and couldn't use any magic here, she seemed to really feel it.
That kind of magic is such a wonderful and subtle feeling.
"I noticed something was wrong. Mr. Beast seemed to be in great pain on the night of the full moon. He locked himself in his room and wouldn't come out. That's how I got the chance to run away." Hermione excitedly told the old witch everything about the castle, her face full of adventurous joy.
The old witch simply smiled kindly at her and nodded. "On the night of the full moon, he loses all his powers and becomes a Muggle without magic. He's afraid that some terrible being in the forest will come and devour him, so he hides on the night of the full moon."
Hermione paused, then asked, "He's human?"
"Yes." The old witch looked under the wooden bed behind her, where a werewolf was watching them with eager anticipation. "They chase after powerful magic, but do not appreciate its wonders. They are only fascinated by the powerful attacks it brings to satisfy their ambitions, and so they quickly become slaves to magic."
"Their animalistic nature was unleashed without discipline, so their minds began to become like those of wild beasts, eventually causing their appearance to change in the form of wild beasts as well."
Some resemble wolves, some resemble venomous snakes, and some resemble clams.
The old witch looked at Hermione with a wise gaze. "Humans are all concerned about their appearance; it's instinct. The most dangerous time is when someone is completely indifferent to the possibility of turning into a beast in order to gain power."
"The mysterious man!" Hermione exclaimed.
The old witch paused, then asked, "Who?"
Hermione shook her head. "A legendary evil man. I heard he was very handsome at first, but later his eyes would occasionally flash red, and his face would become strangely distorted like wax, as if burned, with blurred features..."
(Voldemort's early condition; he still had a nose before his resurrection)
"That's truly horrible," the old witch exclaimed, warning Hermione, "Everyone has a beast within them. Unleashing it will grant you immense power, but that power will only gradually devour your soul. You must learn to control it, to put it in a cage!"
"His heart was devoured by the beast within him?" Hermione's eyes lit up. "Grandma, you mean that when Mr. Beast turned back into a human on the night of the full moon, it meant there was still hope for him, right? He wasn't completely devoured by the beast within him!"
The old witch was visibly taken aback; she seemed never to have considered this possibility before. She blinked. "Yes, I'm afraid so."
He might actually still be saved!
"How can we save him?" Hermione asked excitedly.
The old witch pursed her lips, seemingly hesitant, but finally stood up, found a small glass bottle, walked to the large cauldron by the door, filled it with some water, and handed it to Hermione who had followed her out. "Let him drink it, and he will turn back into a human completely."
Hermione reached for the bottle, but the old witch gripped it tightly. "Child," she said, "I must warn you, this is dangerous for you. He's only one step away from completely losing his humanity. Besides—"
She shook her head, then finally handed the bottle to Hermione, looking towards the edge of the forest. "Do you really think he wants to go back to being a Muggle with no powers?"
"If it were you—"
"Are you willing to lose all your magical powers and become a Muggle again?"
Hermione couldn't answer. She stared blankly at the bottle in her hand, opened her mouth, but in the end, she just squeezed the bottle tightly.
She eventually put on the hood of the red cloak, mounted the white horse, and planned to quietly return to the castle before the night of the full moon ended.
People are always like this: it's easy to make decisions for others, as long as they keep saying "this is for your own good," but when it comes to themselves, it becomes very, very difficult.
The old witch gave her a long look at her back, then turned to look at the werewolf who had somehow appeared in the house, panting heavily and ready to pounce on her at any moment. She sighed, "You didn't drink the potion I gave you."
The werewolf didn't speak, but crouched down slightly, its long, powerful forearms swaying gently, and its wide-open mouth, full of gaping teeth, dripped with terrifying saliva.
"You want to eat me, don't you?" The old witch looked at the werewolf with a sinister gaze.
But then the werewolf slowly walked out, looking helplessly at the increasingly bright full moon in the sky. His tall and burly body began to collapse and shrink rapidly, eventually turning into the appearance of a normal human.
Lockhart looked at his hands with some frustration and sighed, "I can never maintain my werewolf form, no matter what methods I've tried. Is it because I haven't truly been infected with wolf venom?"
The old witch smiled and shook her head. "No, it's not that problem. It's because you don't want to become a werewolf at all, and you don't want magic to corrupt your heart. You crave magic so much yet you crave your own life so much. The magic within you already has the ability to resist wolf venom."
"But why can't the other werewolves do this?" Lockhart asked, somewhat frustrated after repeated setbacks.
He looked at the old witch, bowed slightly, and performed a standard wizard's greeting, "Good evening, Ms. Benitez."
Doris Bennetts, known as the "most vigilant witch in the Magical Congress of the United States," is a powerful wizard, though she prefers to be called the "Witch of the Forest."
"Hello, Gilderoy." The old witch beckoned him to sit down at a tea table made from a wooden stump and poured him a drink made from various brightly colored mushrooms and glowing plants.
Lockhart looked at the contents of the cup with a strange expression, somewhat resistant. "You're here to seek revenge, aren't you?"
Even if he, as a transmigrator, didn't personally steal someone else's life, he still bears the same guilt.
Lockhart enjoys the fruits of the original body's stolen memories, and naturally must also bear the consequences.
The forest witch shook her head. "Gidero, I am dead. A green forest swallowed my body and set sail along the ocean harbor."
It will take me back to the Amazon rainforest, so that I can become nourishment for that forest along with my coffin.
The passing of life is always saddening, and Lockhart fell silent.
The Forest Witch smiled and pulled a book from her burlap bag. It was none other than "Walking with Trolls," a work based on the Forest Witch's life experiences that the original owner had stolen.
"I want to tell you that I really like this book."
She gently stroked the book cover, her eyes filled with nostalgia. "I was once obsessed with the bustling cities of Muggles and didn't want to talk too much about my past as a wild man in the forest. I never imagined that my unbearable past would be so beautiful and romantic in your writing."
"This may be the only trace I leave in this world, even if it's in your name, I still feel it's beautiful. After all, I abandoned my past, and you picked it up and told the world that such beauty once existed."
She handed the book to Lockhart.
"You've made me feel ashamed," Lockhart muttered, taking the book and turning the page. He found a line written on it: "May you go far down this magical path. Doris Benitez, the Forest Witch."