Chapter 284

“Professor McGonagall.”

Wizard Sean looked at the tall witch, her emerald robes also gilded by the sunset.

“Headmaster Dumbledore.”

Wizard Sean spoke again; the old wizard with long white beard was blinking kindly.

“How did you—here?!”

Professor McGonagall fixed Wizard Sean with a gaze that had turned dangerous.

Wizard Sean silently shifted his foot a little farther out from behind the sign reading 【Forbidden Forest, No Entry】.

Now he was at the forest’s edge—he hadn’t technically entered.

This sight left Minerva McGonagall both exasperated and amused, until Headmaster Dumbledore chuckled and spoke, his silver beard and half-moon spectacles gleaming in the twilight:

“Look here, Minerva—it seems we’ve found something more interesting than Thestrals.”

Wizard Sean wanted to flee; he already sensed what was coming.

At the forest’s edge, the pumpkin seedlings were terrifyingly large—and the dragons about to burst forth would be no different.

Amidst Dumbledore’s intrigued gaze and McGonagall’s trembling eyes, Hagrid roared with delight.

Then, a dragon appeared!

It stood on its hind legs, roaring, puffing out great gusts of breath—flames erupted from its gaping, fanged maw, streaking into the dark sky; its neck arched high, its mouth thirty feet above the ground.

Seeing this dragon, five times larger than normal, Wizard Sean did not hesitate—he took the photo.

After a brief, precise perception, guided by a strange intuition, he realized his hypotheses were all correct.

Eating more magical creature cookies did indeed grant greater magical power—but at the same time, accepting such magic was a tremendous trial for any wizard.

Thus, for different wizards, Wizard Sean seemed able to strengthen or weaken the ritual—another intriguing direction…

“Wizard Sean Green!”

Wizard Sean dared not turn; Professor McGonagall, her hair tightly pinned into a small bun behind her glasses, stepped forward and blocked him—but her fury seemed fiercer than the flame of a Norwegian Ridgeback.

Headmaster Dumbledore gave Wizard Sean a helpless smile, then turned his gaze to the dragon Hagrid had transformed into.

After refining his hypothesis, Wizard Sean sighed quietly—McGonagall and Dumbledore had appeared far too coincidentally…

Or perhaps not a coincidence?

He looked at the smiling old wizard.

Dumbledore showed no caution toward Hagrid’s dragon form, though Hagrid now looked terrifying—this made Wizard Sean frown thoughtfully.

Then his figure slowly vanished; a black cat opened its bright, vertical pupils.

As Wizard Sean had expected, even after transforming into a magical creature, Hagrid’s pine-scent aura remained unchanged.

This seemed to align with Professor McGonagall’s notes on Animagus transformation:

An Animagus transforms into an animal that mirrors the wizard’s own soul, shaped by their unique latent qualities.

Soul transformation does not alter the wizard’s nature—if a malicious person transforms into a dragon, it will likely cause destruction;

but if a person like Hagrid transforms into a dragon, it behaves exactly as now—the dragon sits beside Dumbledore, wagging its tail like Fang, smashing crater after crater into the ground.

This left Professor McGonagall, wand raised and face tense, momentarily speechless.

…

The next morning, in the Headmaster’s office.

“I believe you’ve grasped the key, haven’t you, child? Some magic is etched into the depths of our souls… such as… love.”

Headmaster Dumbledore’s deep gaze settled on Wizard Sean.

“It means that no matter how the exterior changes, certain rules always hold true.

This greatest magic can help us accomplish many things—including what you’ve always wanted to do.

Use the Soul Relic well—its effects are far from insignificant—”

As a thin mist drifted through the entire Headmaster’s office, Wizard Sean walked out, lost in thought.

On his shoulder, Bai Yi rested quietly, half-asleep.

Only when he reached the shadows did Bai Yi stir slightly awake.

If Hagrid’s dragon form obeyed Headmaster Dumbledore’s commands, would Bai Yi obey him?

In the Hut of Wishes, the owl flapped wildly, clawing and pecking at Bai Yi—but it was futile, for it was merely a portrait.

In this line of thought, Wizard Sean read *Simple Entry to the Empty Glyph* until the second night fell.

The night was damp and windy, but Hagrid’s hut was always warm.

As Wizard Sean fed Bai Yi a Cat-owl cookie, Hagrid beamed:

“Oh, what a beautiful girl—look at those feathers, look at those claws—”

Wizard Sean saw nothing unusual.

Distinguishing the sex of an owl involved subtle differences—only a wizard like Hagrid, who adored magical creatures and understood them deeply, could spot them at a glance.

Bai Yi cooed, then transformed into a white-furred Cat-owl, wobbling onto Wizard Sean’s shoulder as if it were its own territory.

“Bai Yi?”

Wizard Sean called.

The Cat-owl tilted its head slightly, emitting a strange, puzzled meow.

“Come to my hand, all right?”

Wizard Sean said again.

But Bai Yi seemed to understand nothing—only meowed once.

Sensing something, Wizard Sean pulled out a stone-like object, waved his wand, and thin cords strung together the Empty Glyphs, forming a necklace that settled around his neck.

This time, Bai Yi seemed to understand—it leapt happily onto Wizard Sean’s hand, and Wizard Sean felt a slow warmth spreading in his chest.

It appeared the Soul Relic enabled Wizard Sean to establish subtle, soul-level communication.

Allowing him to send precise commands.

This inexplicably reminded him of the Deathly Hallows—the Resurrection Stone.

Headmaster Dumbledore had once described it thus:

“The Resurrection Stone—for him, meant an army of Inferi…”

“Him,” of course, referred to Grindelwald; and Inferi, since their creation, had never obeyed commands.

That is, the Resurrection Stone allowed Grindelwald to command the dead.

Its function bore striking similarity to the Soul Relic—except, according to Headmaster Dumbledore, Wizard Sean and Bai Yi were bound by love, while the Soul Relic merely facilitated communication—

And it had always functioned this way.

Even the Boundary, it served only as a connector.

The sky darkened; the hut’s hearth burned warmly; night drew people closer—and Wizard Sean understood:

Love is the bridge that connects souls.