Chapter 490: Brightlight

“That’s right,”

Stan continued rubbing his chest and said,

“That’s right, that’s right. They say he was close to the Dark Lord… anyway, little Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord back then.”

Harry nervously pushed his bangs down.

He instinctively searched for anything that could soothe him, and as if by coincidence, the most comforting wizard sat right in front of him.

Wizard Sean quietly lifted his head, glancing at Harry facing him and Mr. Stan with his back turned.

And Mr. Stan, unaware, kept talking:

“All of the Dark Lord’s supporters were arrested, weren’t they, Earn? After the Dark Lord fled, most of them knew the tide had turned and stopped causing trouble.

Only Sirius Black was an exception. I heard he believed that once the Dark Lord returned, he’d take the second seat.

Anyway, they cornered Black on a street full of Muggles; he pulled out his wand and blew up half the street, hitting one wizard and over a dozen Muggles who happened to be there.

Terrible, isn’t it? Do you know what Black did next?”

Stan continued in an exaggerated whisper.

“What?”

Harry asked.

“He laughed out loud,”

Stan said,

“stood there laughing out loud. Then Ministry reinforcements arrived, and he went with them calmly, still laughing uncontrollably.

He must be mad. Isn’t he, Earn? Isn’t he mad?”

“Even if he wasn’t mad when he went to Azkaban, he’s certainly mad by now.”

Earn said in a low voice,

“I’d rather blow myself up than set foot in that place. It’s what he deserves… after doing something like that…”

“They barely managed to cover it up, didn’t they, Earn?”

Stan said,

“The street was blown apart, so many Muggles died.

How did they explain it, Earn?”

“Gas explosion.”

Earn muttered.

“Now he’s escaped again.”

Stan said, studying the thin face of Black in the newspaper photo,

“Azkaban has never had a breakout before, has it, Earn? I can’t fathom how he pulled it off.

It’s terrifying, isn’t it? Honestly, I can’t imagine how he overcame Azkaban’s guards. Isn’t that right, Earn?”

Mr. Stan had a strange habit—Wizard Sean and Harry quickly noticed it—he called out “Earn” every time he spoke, as if his words lacked credibility unless Earn responded.

Of course, his words were absurd, frightening not only Harry but even Earn, who shuddered.

“Say something else, Stan. There are two respectable boys here.

Just hearing about Azkaban’s guards gives me stomach cramps.”

Stan reluctantly set the newspaper aside.

Harry leaned against the Knight Bus window, feeling worse than ever.

He knew nothing about wizarding prisons, but everyone spoke of the place in the same tone of dread.

The Knight Bus lurched through the darkness, scattering bushes, trash bins, phone booths, and trees.

Harry lay on the feather mattress, restless and burdened with worry.

“Wizard Sean, will the Ministry catch Black again?”

He asked over a bunk to the young wizard still reading.

“They’ll try.”

Wizard Sean thought for a moment and said.

“What if they don’t catch him? What will Black do?”

Harry couldn’t help asking.

Wizard Sean said nothing, just gazed steadily at Harry, and Harry instantly understood something from those bright eyes.

“Miss, could I switch beds with you?”

Harry rushed toward a witch with freckles—her bed had blocked Harry’s view of Wizard Sean.

Only after the witch reluctantly moved did Harry’s pounding heart begin to calm.

Closer now, Harry could see what Wizard Sean’s quill was writing.

On the neat page was a wizard’s portrait, wand raised, its tip blazing with intense light.

Just as bright as the Knight Bus’s headlights had been.

Below the illustration were Wizard Sean’s customary notations on gestures and phonetic breakdowns.

Yet strangely, Harry had never seen such pronunciation or gestures before.

“What spell is this… it looks like Lumos…”

Harry didn’t dare disturb Wizard Sean, so he whispered his guess, staring at the utterly transformed spell diagram.

“It’s Brightlight.”

Wizard Sean’s quill paused, explaining.

“Oh, sorry for interrupting you, Wizard Sean… but what’s Brightlight?”

Harry flinched and asked.

“The first spell I reshaped—altered the original order within the wizard’s mind that Lumos represented, shifting from a desire for light to creating blinding glare—when the wizard’s inner intent changes, the order naturally shifts with the wizard’s will…

Thus, after the order collapses, it rebuilds anew… so even with the same gesture and pronunciation, Lumos no longer necessarily produces light.

…The only problem is the collapsed order still affects the wizard’s casting; those who learn Brightlight can no longer reliably cast Lumos, so I had to redesign the magical ritual…

This is Brightlight—order reshaped, wisdom still incomplete.”

Wizard Sean explained while refining his notes, as if reciting a long incantation, yet it sounded as natural to him as eating or drinking—Harry understood nothing.

“What is… reshaping? What are order and intent? What needs to collapse and rebuild?”

Harry was utterly lost, as if listening to a foreign scripture.

How could every word Wizard Sean said be English, yet together make no sense?

“I created a new spell.”

Wizard Sean summarized.

“Oh, Wizard Sean, you could’ve just said that earlier.”

Harry suddenly understood.

“Oh no, Wizard Sean, what did you say?”

Harry snapped back to attention.

“I…”

“You created a new spell!”

Harry exclaimed.

“Hey! Sir!”

The witch with freckles glared angrily at Harry.

“Sorry!”

Harry hadn’t recovered yet,

“Wizard Sean, you created a new spell? Just now? Earlier? On this bus?!”

“Mm.”

For magic, Wizard Sean was always precise.

Brightlight confirmed Wizard Sean’s hypothesis.

Though it derived from Lumos’s gesture and pronunciation, it had completely broken free from the ancient, thousand-year-old foundational spell—Lumos.

It was not an improvement of Lumos, like red sparks versus green sparks.

It was entirely, from zero to one, a completely new spell.

A wizard might clumsily cast it using Lumos techniques, but those techniques were never truly suited to it.

This proved one thing.

Wizards seek inward, establishing an unshakable 【Order】 within; thus, reality must obey the wizard’s 【Order】.

【Wisdom】 is merely the wizard’s attempt to draw the skeleton and seek the form of magic.