Chapter 420: Mediocrity

Overall, it could be considered a good thing.

Legend says it was direct instruction from a wizard, concerning profound ancient magic.

Wizard Sean felt he had gained much.

“Huh—awake?”

Snape had been smirking, but now the smile vanished.

“Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall.”

Wizard Sean said.

“Tell me… what happened? Why were you cursed?”

Professor McGonagall asked sharply.

Wizard Sean fell silent.

The speculation of multiple Horcruxes, the undestroyed evil artifacts, the fact that Voldemort would inevitably return…

He didn’t believe his own abilities surpassed those of the professors—only that some things could not be spoken, and certainly not revealed to others.

“I know you’re professors, but you’re disturbing my patient! He needs rest!”

Madam Pomfrey stormed over.

She was a dedicated healer, treating all her patients with equal care.

Even the Minister for Magic couldn’t raise his voice in her hospital.

“I understand, Poppy.”

Professor McGonagall paused, then, after Madam Pomfrey left, pressed her lips together and asked Wizard Sean,

“Tell me… why did you collapse…”

Her tone was no longer stern.

“I had a dream.”

Wizard Sean answered honestly.

“What dream?”

Professor McGonagall asked.

“Rowan’s dream.”

Wizard Sean continued.

Snape, who had been silent until now, let out a suppressed, angry scoff.

He can’t even fabricate a decent lie…

“Go on.”

Professor McGonagall shot Snape a glare and asked again.

“I found a book—a scroll, a vessel of knowledge—containing Rowan’s lingering wisdom…

Then I had a dream about Rowan, and some memories entered my mind.”

Wizard Sean spoke slowly.

“Where is the scroll?”

Snape asked, face dark.

“It vanished.”

Wizard Sean replied.

“What exactly did Dumbledore tell you that made you invent such a ridiculous lie?”

Snape’s gaze locked onto Wizard Sean, unblinking, as if weighted and burning with physical force.

“You dreamed of Lady Rowan again?”

Professor McGonagall asked, astonished.

Snape instantly turned his gaze to her.

“Severus, it’s true.”

Professor McGonagall said seriously.

Snape’s expression froze.

“Yes, Professor. I learned some knowledge.”

Wizard Sean had indeed learned some knowledge.

But more importantly, he had grasped the essence of magic.

He had long held certain questions:

Magic, such power, always seemed tied to gods—but in this magical world, only legends of ancient wizards existed.

Wizards never worshipped gods; their only catchphrase was Merlin.

Why?

For thousands of years, had wizards never developed any belief in gods?

Not even in myths or tales?

Yet the truth was, none of it existed.

Rowan’s memory said: Wizards believe only in themselves.

Rowan’s memory said: Wizards are gods.

And now Wizard Sean said: A wizard’s belief in himself gave birth to magic, and the wizard obsessed with that belief became a god.

Why were ancient wizards stronger than modern ones?

Because magic then demanded greater power—and was far more cruel.

Cruelty was so ordinary, and ordinariness so easy.

Beyond cruelty, did wizards have other beliefs capable of reaching magic’s origin?

Rowan said: Superior wisdom is the greatest treasure.

Wizard Sean thought: the pursuit of wisdom and knowledge.

Wizard Sean thought: Omniscience… is omnipotence.

The school infirmary was silent; melted snow trickled in fine streams down the glass.

Professor McGonagall did not doubt him—she knew the story of the owl painting, and that the painting had recently vanished.

Snape, however, wore a grim expression, lost in thought.

Wizard Sean lifted a finger, gently beckoned—and a book landed before him.

【You practiced the Levitation Charm to a master’s standard. Proficiency +300】

Wandless casting increased the difficulty, forcing Wizard Sean to understand magic’s principles more deeply.

Fortunately, all of it was contained in Rowan’s memories.

Which meant Wizard Sean’s spellcraft was on the verge of a major breakthrough.

He’d been stuck at “proficient” for far too long.

“Wandless casting?”

Snape froze, then stared fixedly at Wizard Sean.

After two seconds, he dropped several potions and strode out of the infirmary.

The answer was written on his face—he had no choice but to… temporarily believe.

“Professor Snape.”

Wizard Sean suddenly spoke to stop him.

The hurried Snape turned back, eyes on Wizard Sean. His mood improved slightly—he thought the boy was finally going to tell him something.

“The Magic Hand Mirror—a variant of the Two-way Mirror—that allows wizards to converse face-to-face.”

Wizard Sean said.

“Huh—boring contraption.”

Snape took the floating mirror, snorted, but his mood improved slightly.

After he left, Professor McGonagall spoke:

“Excellent, child. Hogwarts Castle holds countless secrets.

Clearly, you’ve touched upon part of them—yes, I believe there are still many magical treasures here waiting to be uncovered.”

The wrinkles around Professor McGonagall’s eyes softened; she had received a satisfactory answer.

“But—I mean, if you meet Rowan… how is Lady Grey?”

She asked curiously.

“They live in a small house.”

Wizard Sean recalled.

“Oh, oh, that’s….”

Professor McGonagall sat down gently; she clearly knew much of Lady Grey’s past, and listened with keen interest to Wizard Sean’s account.

In her hand, a mirror now appeared.

…

After entering March, the weather grew much clearer, but every time the young wizards stepped outside, the biting wind still stung their hands and faces.

Owls could not deliver letters on time, as the gales constantly blew them off course.

Jia Jia Siting always sent a brown owl to deliver letters to Wizard Sean—Madam Pomfrey forbade them from visiting the infirmary so frequently.

The owl appeared at breakfast time, its feathers half-tousled by the wind.

Justin had just torn off the letter from Wizard Sean when the owl flew off in a hurry, clearly afraid it would be sent out again.

“What did Wizard Sean say?”

Hermione asked curiously.

“The plan can begin—tomorrow.”

Justin read aloud, staring at the letter.

“Is Wizard Sean finally out of the infirmary?!”

Hermione covered her mouth.

“...No.”

Justin’s smile froze.

“He’s going to sneak out again!”

Hermione gasped.

“Actually, Wizard Sean reported to Madam Pomfrey, and she allowed him to leave the school infirmary after more than a week confined there.”

Justin read from the letter.

Though skeptical, Hermione ultimately accepted it.

This meant they would soon drive Lockhart out.

It was for the sake of all the students...

Both of them thought this,

If Lockhart taught another few years, by the time Voldemort returned, they’d have to try defeating him with nothing but “the most charming smile.”