The next afternoon.
At the Church of Steam and Machinery in Backlund, the Machinery Hivemind's deacon, Ikanser Bernard, stepped into a dimly lit room. Inside were several team members who had been waiting for some time.
Soon, one of them stepped forward, holding in both hands an ancient silver mirror with ornate patterns.
The mirror looked quite peculiar, with an eye-like decoration on each side. The 'eyes' were made of deep black gemstones, appearing both mysterious and mesmerizing.
Ikanser took the mirror, ran his right palm over its surface three times, drew a deep breath, and asked solemnly, "Respected Arrodes, my question is: I want to know, who is the owner of this key?"
As he spoke, he took out a simple, timeworn bronze key.
The surrounding darkness suddenly became hazy, and ripples of watery light shimmered across the surface of the silver mirror.
Soon, a scene emerged within the mirror:
Beneath the crimson moonlight of night, inside a secret chamber flickering with numerous bronze candleholders, stood a long table, a black cauldron, glass jars, brown notebooks, and other items.
A young man in a classical black robe stood before the long table, staring intently at the potion in his hands.
"Ancestors, I am about to embark on the path of the Beyonder. I will surely restore the glory of the Abraham family!" he muttered to himself, then downed the potion.
His facial muscles immediately twisted, a pained expression overtaking him.
Suddenly, he let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed to the ground, writhing and clawing at his own throat.
Within mere seconds, he tore through his clothing, shed his outer skin, and transformed into a blood-soaked monster.
Bang!
His flesh exploded—every piece seemingly alive, creeping outward in all directions, leaving behind corrosive traces.
Ikanser was utterly stunned. The key's owner lost control and died as a monster? That's impossible!
But before he could think further, several lines of ancient Fusac language appeared on the mirror's surface:
"According to the law of reciprocity, it's now my turn to ask a question."
"If you answer incorrectly or lie, you will be punished."
Ripples shimmered again on the mirror's surface, and a new line of text appeared:
"A beautiful lady, a handsome gentleman, and a brawny man—choose one to go on a date with based on your true preference. What is your choice?"
"…."
Feeling all eyes around on him, Ikanser closed his eyes and said, "I choose…to accept the punishment."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a bolt of silvery lightning burst into existence and struck the top of his head. His body convulsed violently as he collapsed to the floor, black smoke rising from him.
A few seconds later, Ikanser struggled to his feet, gasping for breath. He reached out and snatched the mirror that was still floating in the air, murmuring:
"Since we were instructed to find the key's owner, it can't be that he's already dead. But Arrodes can't lie either. Then the only possible explanation is…"
"…that the person just now was a previous owner of this key?"
With that thought, he once again stroked the mirror's surface three times and asked:
"Respected Arrodes, my question is: who was the last person to possess this key before it was lost? No, rather…where is he now?"
The surrounding lights suddenly grew dim and profound. A scene slowly formed within the mirror:
It was an ordinary-looking room. A figure stepped into view, and the image zoomed in, the person's features gradually coming into focus.
Ikanser held his breath.
Suddenly, the image froze, cracked, and turned blurry—then disappeared.
Arcs of silver lightning sparked erratically. Ikanser immediately let go and retreated, watching as the mirror hovered in mid-air, trembling violently. Words began to flicker across its surface, glitching out like a broken machine:
"I can't find him. He…is gone."
———
As the familiar sensation of falling faded, Edward once again returned to the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts.
This time, his stay in both worlds would extend to thirty-three days.
"As expected, after advancing to Sequence 7, the time lengthened again. But...going from eighteen to thirty-three this time—I still can't make out any pattern."
By normal logic, wouldn't a "golden finger" upgrade follow a clear progression? Like, say, each upgrade doubling the previous duration—starting from fifteen days, then thirty, then forty-five.
Or maybe the increase was a fixed interval—like five days per upgrade. That would make it fifteen the first time, twenty the second, twenty-five the third.
He couldn't figure it out.
Maybe he simply hadn't discovered the pattern yet.
Deciding not to dwell on it further, he let Audrey out.
Cradling Lilith in her arms, she changed into her Hogwarts uniform and tied her golden hair into a ponytail, looking youthful and full of energy.
"We must be every teacher's nightmare—disappearing for ten or twenty days every few weeks."
"Not necessarily. In our world, only the teachers' favorite students get to enjoy such privileges."
Lilith leapt to the floor and began padding around in curious little steps, taking in her surroundings with wide eyes. It was her first time in the Room of Requirement, and everything here was new to her.
"Meow~"
She turned back to Edward, hesitating for a moment before sending a gentle ripple through the air with her voice, "Where is this place? Miss Lilith thinks…it feels familiar."
"We're back at Hogwarts."
She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with delight. "Then I can…go play with McGonagall Meow again."
"McGonagall Meow? Don't tell me you mean Professor McGonagall?"
"Yes! Professor McGonagall Meow!"
"Professor McGonagall often turns into a cat to play with you?"
"Yes!"
You wouldn't think it, huh—was it because Animagus transformations were influenced by the animals they turned into, or was it simply that Professor McGonagall still had a childlike heart?
With a mandrake leaf pressed beneath his tongue, Edward mulled this over in curiosity:
I wonder what animal my Animagus form would be.
At that moment, Audrey urged him with visible anticipation, "Let's go! Before I left last time, I gave Malfoy a task—wonder if he's made any progress."
After chatting a little more, the two left the Room of Requirement and headed for the Headmaster's Office.
"Sherbet Lemon."
Edward repeated the password he'd used last time, but the gargoyle didn't budge.
"Cockroach cluster."
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."
——
"Drooble's Best Blowing Gum."
They rattled off nearly every sweet they could remember before the gargoyle finally sprang to life and jumped aside. The wall behind it split in two, revealing a spiral staircase slowly rotating upward.
The two of them ascended the staircase with practiced ease and soon stood before the gleaming oak door. Edward lifted the brass knocker and knocked three times. The door swung open silently—but Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen. Only Fawkes, the aging phoenix, sat listlessly on his gilded perch, lifting his head lazily to glance at Edward before drooping again.
"Professor Dumbledore?"
Out of courtesy, Edward called out a few times. After confirming the old man wasn't hiding in some invisible corner, he set down Lilith, rubbed his hands together, and quietly crept toward Fawkes, reaching for a tail feather that looked ready to fall out.
"Hehehe~ Fawkes-chan~ Sorry about this."
Audrey held her breath, terrified the phoenix would be startled—Edward had once told her that a phoenix feather might be the price demanded by a messenger spirit.
Just as Edward's fingers were about to touch the feather, Fawkes suddenly straightened and beat his wings with a piercing screech.
Pop!
Fawkes burst into a ball of flames and vanished.
A few seconds later, there was another sharp pop—Fawkes reappeared, and with him came Dumbledore.
"Oh, Edward, Miss Hall—welcome back. Ah, and Lilith came back with you, too. Minerva was still quite worried about her."
"Uh, long time no see, Professor Dumbledore."
"Hello, Headmaster."
"Meow~"
Dumbledore smiled gently, stroking Fawkes' head as he said with a sigh, "Fawkes has already complained to me—said you tried to steal one of his tail feathers."
"No, no! I just noticed a few were about to fall out."
Dumbledore walked over to his desk and took a seat. With a few taps of his wand on the tabletop, several trays of colorful sweets appeared out of thin air.
"Please, have a seat. Try some of Honeydukes' new treats."
"Thank you."
"So, how was the trip?"
Edward sighed, mixing truth and falsehood as he replied, "Exciting, but dangerous. If it weren't for the Time-Turner you gave me last time, I'd have been in serious trouble. Unfortunately, the Time-Turner was damaged during use."
Dumbledore paused mid-motion as he unwrapped a candy.
"Oh dear, that's troublesome. The Ministry of Magic will definitely use this to stir up more drama."
He paused again, then added with a knowing look, "If you're hoping to borrow another one…I'm afraid you'll have to wait."
"…Alright."
Or maybe I'll sneak in and take one myself?
"And you, Miss Hall?"
Audrey smiled politely. "It was wonderful."
"I'm glad."
Dumbledore popped a green candy into his mouth, and his brow immediately furrowed.
"Oh—celery flavored. What an odd taste. I hope it gives me a little…hmm, vitamin C? Is that the right term?"
"Now then, Edward, how long will you be staying this time? Is there anything I can help you with?"
"I should be here for about 33 days. I'd like to learn wandless, wordless magic—especially wandless spells. And I still haven't mastered Incendio Draconis or the Lightning Summoning Charm."
"Wandless casting…"
Dumbledore thought for a moment, then asked, "Edward, why do you think wizards use wands to cast spells?"
"Well, since wandless casting exists, wands clearly aren't essential. I suppose wands serve to guide magical energy, simplify casting, and enhance the effectiveness of spells."
Dumbledore removed his half-moon glasses and said gently, "Exactly. In the early days, wizards cast spells without wands. But that doesn't mean they were more powerful than modern wizards. In fact, apart from a few extraordinary individuals—like Merlin—most wizards back then were much weaker. That's why they were often caught and burned at the stake."
Audrey seized the moment to ask, "Why was that?"
"Because a wizard's magic is incredibly difficult to control. Most who awaken magical bloodlines go their entire lives without managing even a simple Lumos. The invention of the wand lowered the barrier for spellcasting—now even an eleven-year-old can cast numerous spells with ease."
"As centuries passed, wizarding bloodlines became accustomed to the wand—as if they were born needing it. In a way, modern wizards are even more dependent on wands than their ancestors. Even I would experience a significant drop in power if I forced myself to cast wandlessly."
He scratched his head and chuckled, "I suppose this is what that Muggle scientist—Darwin, was it?—meant by evolution? Or maybe…de-evolution."
Edward nodded thoughtfully. "So…you don't recommend I learn wandless casting?"
"Hahaha, not at all. I just want to make sure you're prepared. It would be a shame if you finally learned it, only to find it wasn't worth the effort."
"If Mr. Ollivander could refine a wand into a ring or a bracelet, I wouldn't insist on learning wandless casting."
"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…your idea has been attempted by countless wizards over the centuries. None have succeeded."
Dumbledore slipped his glasses back on and concluded, "Alright. I'll help you find a way to begin learning wandless magic, though it probably won't be me who teaches you. I'm rather set in my wand-using ways."
Edward's eyes lit up, and he grinned mischievously.
"Oh? Is it that professor, then?"
"Oh? Why do you think that? He and I have always been rivals, haven't we? Why would I hand over my student to someone so…notorious?"
"But…I never even said who I was referring to."
"…You sly little fox."
After a pause, Dumbledore went on, "For certain reasons, we've temporarily set aside our differences. I hope I can help clear his name someday."
"So it is that professor?"
Dumbledore blinked. "Take a guess."
At that moment, a shrill, high-pitched voice rang out—sounding like an irate schoolgirl but full of breathy indignation.
"Headmaster Dumbledore! Hogwarts' education is deeply flawed! I demand reforms!"
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.