Chapter 124: Elderwood

“I have to wonder whether those… are truly safe enough…”

Professor Flitwick’s voice remained high-pitched; he stood on the ground, hidden behind two tall wizards, audible but unseen.

Only when Flitwick conjured book after book beneath his feet did everyone finally see his worried expression.

In the headmaster’s office, silver objects filled the entire oak table; the worn kettle spat out plumes of white steam. Fawkes the phoenix rested on its gilded perch, feathers glinting with a deep crimson sheen.

Albus Dumbledore did not answer immediately. He sat behind the wooden desk, his blue eyes glinting above his spectacles. The magical book before him turned a page on its own, and only then did his voice slowly rise:

“I suppose there’s no need to worry, correct? Children are braver than we imagine.”

He smiled warmly, his words carrying hidden meaning.

“Brave enough to rush headlong into death.”

Professor Snape let out a cold laugh.

“Is sending first-year wizards to fight trolls your plan… Dumbledore?”

Professor McGonagall watched silently beside him, offering neither agreement nor rebuttal.

“Hogwarts is the safest place in all of Britain.”

Dumbledore offered only a cryptic remark.

“Hmph—”

Professor Snape said nothing more, gave a cold, dismissive snort, and swept out with his cloak.

“You should be more cautious, Albus.”

Minerva McGonagall left behind those words, then departed as well.

After they left, Dumbledore murmured thoughtfully to himself:

“Severus… change… is truly… long overdue…”

He then turned to speak with Flitwick:

“Professor Flitwick, could you tell me about that child?”

“Of course! Headmaster Dumbledore, in both charms and Dark Arts Defense, the child possesses far greater talent than we imagined…”

Flitwick’s high-pitched voice trembled with excitement; in truth, if Severus and Minerva had seen the child’s dueling skill, they would know—between a troll and a first-year wizard, it is the troll who is the challenger…

This was also why Flitwick had been the calmest among everyone present.

In the corridor.

Snape’s wide black robes carried an oppressive aura, making the young wizards along the hall scramble to avoid him.

The last student who dared provoke Professor Snape is still confined in the dungeons—for a full month now…

Wizard Sean stood by Professor McGonagall’s office door, arms full of Transfiguration textbooks.

The biting wind chilled to the bone, yet could not penetrate Mr. Filch’s scarf; Wizard Sean wore gloves gifted by Mrs. Finley, a sweater from Professor Snape, and in his bag lay Professor McGonagall’s personal treasures…

Overall, he rarely felt cold anymore.

He stood here because he had Transfiguration first this afternoon—arriving early was his usual habit.

When the professor was present, he could learn more; when absent, he could review, read books.

At that moment, a broad shadow blocked the window’s light; Wizard Sean looked up and saw Professor Snape’s grim face.

He stared at Wizard Sean’s sweater collar for two seconds, then glanced toward the dungeons, speaking in a chilling tone:

“Come, fool.”

Wizard Sean ignored the mockery and followed silently.

The dungeons were always colder; even from afar, Wizard Sean could hear rain pounding against the windows. He turned to see the glass coated with a thin layer of ice.

“Who do you think you are?”

Professor Snape’s mockery came as swiftly as ever; before Wizard Sean could react, Snape unleashed a long, sneering tirade:

“Ah—our Mr. Green, thinks himself some kind of ‘hero,’ fighting trolls alone… oh, I suppose those fools must admire you terribly, don’t they?!

—Green, do you think defeating a troll is something remarkable? Let me tell you—surviving is remarkable…”

Snape’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile as he gazed at Wizard Sean with an expression of frustrated disappointment.

“Compared to those fools… do you think anyone will mourn you if you die?!”

Wizard Sean said nothing.

Professor Snape let out a heavy snort—he knew this fool was utterly stupid from start to finish!

Even if given a hundred more chances, this fool would never learn to preserve himself.

“Take your wand!”

In the dungeons, Snape’s voice was colder than the wind:

“I don’t believe you’ve reached the point of death yet—”

Wizard Sean looked up to find a crumpled, yellowed notebook tossed into his hands—its pages looked decades old.

As Wizard Sean flipped through the book, Snape’s attention fixed on his wand:

Not the ordinary dry wood texture; the wand’s body was the color of midnight—nearly ink-black, yet beneath shifting light, faint traces of deep purple and dark red grain shimmered…

This was elderwood.

The rarest of all wand woods, yet the most infamous—because elderwood wands are far harder to control than any other.

They possess immense magical power, yet refuse to cooperate with wizards inferior to themselves.

No matter how long a wizard wields an elderwood wand, he will always be a figure of global attention.

Only an exceptionally extraordinary person can perfectly match with an elderwood wand; when this rare bond forms, the wizard’s fate is destined to be turbulent and grand.

And yet, this proud material had ended up in the hands of this “fool.”

The core was even more arrogant—phoenix feather—pushing the wand’s untamable nature to an extreme level.

This was a wand… exceptionally suited for Dark Magic…

He looked at the young wizard clutching the notebook, his face dark and complex with emotion.

The elderwood wand had sealed his fate to a life without peace; Snape’s voice grew colder, more solemn:

“If you don’t learn it, you won’t leave this dungeon!”

…

“Sectumsempra! (Divine Blade, Shadowless!)”

Wizard Sean’s wand left no visible trace of magic, yet the toad it struck erupted in deep, tearing wounds. Snape instantly cast a counter-curse, but his gaze remained frozen on Wizard Sean, stunned.

【You practiced Sectumsempra at a proficient level. Proficiency +10】

【Sectumsempra: Beginner (100/900)】

In just one hour, the young wizard had not only learned Sectumsempra before his eyes, but mastered it at an astonishing speed.

His talent even surpassed Snape’s own, who upon entering Hogwarts had already rivaled the Dark Magic skill of some sixth-years.

“Come to the dungeons… an hour early…”

As he left, Wizard Sean heard Snape’s grim voice:

“Don’t let anyone know what magic you’re studying—remember—anyone!”

Before Wizard Sean could nod, Snape slammed the dungeon door shut.