In the magical world, there are eleven well-known wizarding schools spread across different continents, each with its own traditions and magical specialties.
Among the most famous are the three European schools, which have a history of interaction through events like the Triwizard Tournament.
Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons have maintained a long-standing connection, though each operates with its own unique culture and magical focus.
Beyond Europe, there's Koldovstoretz, the Russian wizarding school.
Given the shifting political landscape in that region, there's bound to be chaos in their magical community as well.
While wizards try to separate themselves from Muggle affairs, the reality is that they are far from independent.
With only a few hundred thousand wizards worldwide, scattered across the globe, forming a completely self-sufficient society is nearly impossible.
Take the British wizarding world, for example—almost no one is involved in food production.
Instead, the Ministry of Magic secures supplies from the Muggle world through secret trade agreements, even maintaining direct contact with the Muggle Prime Minister when necessary.
Across the Atlantic, there's Ilvermorny, the primary wizarding school of North America.
Fans of magical history may recall the Fantastic Beasts films mentioning Ilvermorny's foundation.
It's also known for its connection to Isolt Sayre, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, whose wand eventually transformed into a living tree on school grounds.
Meanwhile, Japan has Mahoutokoro, a school rumored to specialize in a mix of Western magic and traditional Onmyōdō practices.
It wouldn't be surprising if they trained magical warriors and spiritualists.
Perhaps they even have shrine maidens with unique magical abilities?
Hard to say without more information.
In Africa, the single wizarding institution, Uagadou, is known for its excellence in Astronomy, Alchemy, and Self-Transfiguration.
It boasts the largest student population, as it serves the entire continent.
One can only hope they don't operate like Wakanda, hidden away with secret advanced magic.
South America is home to Castelobruxo, hidden deep in the Amazon rainforest.
The school specializes in Herbology and Magizoology, given the region's abundance of magical flora and fauna.
As for the remaining three wizarding schools, little is known about them.
Some speculate they are hidden institutions, perhaps maintaining an air of secrecy similar to Kamar-Taj from Doctor Strange.
That would certainly be an interesting crossover—imagine Hogwarts exchanging knowledge with the Masters of the Mystic Arts!
Moving eastward, India and China likely have their own magical traditions, deeply rooted in ancient practices.
Instead of structured schools, their magical education may follow the apprenticeship model, with knowledge passed down through generations within different sects or factions.
Speaking of India, the country has a particularly fascinating magical system tied to belief, willpower, and divine connections.
The sheer variety of deities worshipped in India has led to a unique phenomenon: gods that are, quite literally, created by faith.
If enough people believe in something, it manifests in a tangible way.
Some wizards have even been able to channel divine power through devotion.
It's a bizarre yet effective magical structure, blurring the lines between spellcraft and religious rites.
This ties into a broader magical debate: what is the true source of magic?
Over the years, wizards and scholars have put forward several theories:
[Magic as Inherited Power] – Some argue that magic is passed down through bloodlines. This would explain why wizarding families tend to produce magical children. However, it raises the question: who was the first wizard? Where did the original magic-infused bloodline come from?
[Magic as Willpower] – Others believe magic originates from the wizard's sheer force of will. The stronger one's mental determination, the more powerful their magic.
[Magic as a Soul Trait] – Some speculate that wizards have fundamentally different souls compared to Muggles, giving them an innate connection to magic.
[Magic as a Natural Force] – There's also the theory that magic is an external force of nature, something wizards learn to tap into rather than generate themselves.
[Magic and the Cosmos] – A more esoteric belief suggests that magic is influenced by celestial bodies, a theory favored by astrologers and Divination experts. Some claim that the alignment of planets and stars affects magical abilities.
This leads to another question: were spells discovered or invented?
After analyzing various magical texts, Ted has concluded that spells were likely created by wizards rather than simply found.
The proof lies in young wizards experiencing accidental magic without wands or incantations.
If magic were purely an external force governed by fixed laws, those spontaneous bursts of power wouldn't occur.
Magic, it seems, is as much about understanding as it is about instinct.
That is to say, the first wizards may have cast spells silently and without the use of wands.
Over time, as magic became more refined, spells were developed to create more complex effects while making casting easier and more consistent.
The structured use of incantations and wand movements acted as a mental trigger, reinforcing the wizard's belief that by following a specific sequence, the magic would manifest as intended.
This realization made Ted recall something Helena had mentioned before
Helena:—"In the last few years, my mother truly abandoned rune casting and many forms of ancient magic, choosing instead to study something... unusual."
Rune casting still existed, but it had become rare.
Mastering it required deep study of ancient runes, and while it held advantages in certain areas, the difficulty of learning it outweighed its practical use.
In modern times, only alchemists showed interest in the subject, using it as a foundation for their craft.
As for ancient magic? Most of it had been lost.
The underlying principles and casting methods of ancient magic were vastly different from modern spells.
Their effects were often more profound, sometimes terrifyingly powerful.
But that kind of magic wasn't widely spread.
Power bred fear, and fear led to chaos.
Even at Hogwarts, discussions of dark magic were kept to a minimum.
Most lethal spells were omitted entirely from the curriculum.
The Ministry of Magic ensured that only Aurors and high-ranking officials had access to truly dangerous magic—an intentional measure to maintain control.
It made sense.
Giving wizards unrestricted access to deadly spells was akin to letting Muggles walk around with firearms.
There was a reason some governments banned guns, while others dealt with yearly mass tragedies.
Back in Ravenclaw's time—around the tenth century—ancient magic hadn't yet disappeared.
For someone of her intellect and ability, the knowledge would have been within reach.
So what kind of magic could have made someone as brilliant as Rowena Ravenclaw abandon traditional studies?
...
After parting ways with the twin sisters, Ted returned to his dormitory, deep in thought.
A nagging sense of unease settled in his chest.
Ever since he had embraced psionics and mastered psychic abilities, he hadn't felt this kind of emotional turmoil.
Normally, he had excellent control over his state of mind, but something about this was different.
He took a deep breath, calming himself.
Meditation was the best way to center his thoughts and rid himself of lingering doubts.
The dormitory was eerily quiet. With all his roommates gone for the holidays, only Ted and Anzu remained.
Slowly, he allowed his mind to expand outward, letting his psychic senses reach beyond his immediate surroundings.
His awareness brushed against the common room.
There it was again—the statue. And within it, the strange mass of thoughts.
His psionic abilities allowed him to perceive the mental imprints of all things—whether it was the passing thoughts of students' pets, the wandering ghosts of Hogwarts, or even the enchanted portraits that lined the walls.
Each had a distinct signature, a unique presence.
Animals had simple, instinct-driven thoughts, lively and clear.
Ghosts, on the other hand, were fragmented—thoughts floating in a haze, unfocused and disjointed, as if their minds had lost the ability to concentrate.
Portraits were something else entirely.
If a person's mind was a vivid oil painting—rich in color and complexity—then an animal's was a simple watercolor.
A ghost's mind resembled a blurred pencil sketch, lacking clarity but still retaining detail.
But a portrait?
That was a stick figure—basic lines that suggested a form but lacked real depth.
So what about the consciousness within the Ravenclaw statue?
It wasn't like the others. It was layered, like a "clustered 3D image."
A sudden, absurd thought distracted him—something about 3D animation needing Raiden, just like Hogwarts couldn't exist without magic.
He shook his head.
'Focus.'
But even in that distraction, a realization took hold.
Rowena Ravenclaw's final research must have led to something.
A breakthrough of some kind.
But time had not been on her side.
In the end, she succumbed to illness, unable to even bid farewell to her daughter.
Could it have been the result of her experiments?
Throughout history, countless wizards have perished in pursuit of magical discoveries, particularly when venturing into uncharted territories.
Those who pushed boundaries often paid the ultimate price.
If this strange consciousness within the statue was a "clustered 3D image," then what would happen if he unraveled it? Could it be restored to its original form?