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[HP:Forbidden Magic Legend]-Chapter 126: Ancient Magic
🕑 Added 2025-09-20 01:11:56 +0000 UTC“Everyone, step back!”
Tonks shouted, raising her wand to seal the metal door with a spell, but a hand stopped her. Hodge tossed the Thorn Pocket Watch toward the projection once more. The antique watch, encircled by black spikes, arced through the air, emitting a crisp click.
The projection caught the watch as it sprang open. A flood of dark mist poured from between its silvery, semi-substantial fingers, enveloping it almost instantly. In the blink of an eye, the projection seemed to double in size—but that was far from its limit. Through the mist, it extended a grotesque, scaly arm, its claws glinting coldly. When they touched the circular door, a metallic clang rang out.
“Get inside,” the projection said, its voice low. “Don’t open your eyes.” Its body slithered unnaturally through the crack in the door.
“This is—” Tonks began, her voice dry.
“A combination of memory magic, transfiguration, and Waffling’s theories, twisting indeterminate transformation into a specific form,” Hodge said, leaning back against the circular metal door.
Tonks looked utterly baffled.
“Bogeyman Transfiguration,” Hodge clarified.
Tonks blinked, and after a few seconds, her face lit up with shock. “Bogeyman Transfiguration? You mean—a Boggart? You all knew?” She glanced at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who didn’t seem surprised in the least.
“Yeah,” Harry and Ron said in unison. For some reason, Harry had been feeling nervous, but seeing Tonks’ reaction oddly calmed him down.
“But—” Tonks started.
At that moment, a deafening roar erupted from the other side of the door. The ground beneath their feet trembled slightly, and even through the metal, the terrifying force of the roar was palpable. It was followed by a teeth-grinding crash and the sound of collapsing stone.
“What is your Boggart turning into?” Tonks asked softly, shaking her head as if to dispel the absurd image of a giant rooster. “Surely not a massive cockerel. That’d be ridiculous.”
“Of course not,” Hodge said, pressing his ear against the metal door to listen. “It’s a dragon.” He knew both Boggart-dragons and projections well enough to recognize the sounds—a dull thud—likely the dragon stomping.
Silence fell around them. Harry clutched the rooster he’d grabbed from Hagrid’s backyard, glancing down to check if it was still alive. The rooster weakly blinked one eyelid, and Harry let out a small sigh of relief. But he wasn’t sure what to do next—wait? So when Ron broke the silence, Harry was secretly thrilled.
“Hodge,” Ron asked eagerly, “what if I caught a Boggart? Think that’d work?”
Harry perked up, and Hermione and Tonks turned to listen.
“Not a bad idea,” Hodge said, splitting his attention while keeping one ear pressed to the door. “Dealing with a Boggart isn’t hard. The tricky part is controlling it. You’d need a strong grasp of memory magic—forging fears, crafting illusions, and regularly feeding it emotions and magic. Especially magic.” He spoke thoughtfully.
“Magic?” Hermione interjected. “I get why memory magic is involved—that makes sense—but magic itself… is that the key?”
“You’ve read Waffling’s theories, right?” Hodge asked.
“Yes,” Hermione replied.
“The part about magic and a wizard’s will?”
Hermione looked at him, puzzled.
“Magic resides within a wizard, shaped by their will,” Hodge explained. “The strongest connection is mental energy. After all, casting spells relies on the movement, transformation, and focus of your mind. But that process is usually unconscious. So what happens if you deliberately strengthen that connection?”
“You mean…” Hermione’s eyes lit up. “Like what Waffling wrote in On the Amplification of Magic Across Individuals and Time Spans?”
“Pretty much,” Hodge said.
“What are you two talking about?” Harry asked.
Hodge reached into his pocket and pulled out a torn piece of parchment, waving it in front of them. Suddenly, a burst of flame erupted from the parchment. Oddly, the fire didn’t harm Hodge. From the orange flames emerged a palm-sized, deep crimson bird resembling a crane, trailing a shimmering, peacock-like golden tail.
Harry recognized it instantly—Dumbledore’s pet phoenix, Fawkes.
The tiny phoenix circled the group before dissolving back into flames and vanishing.
“Wandless magic?” Tonks guessed. “No, wait, that’s not it. I didn’t quite follow what you said earlier, but… it’s some kind of magical transformation, not a spell, right?”
“Is it about infusing your thoughts into your magic?” Hermione ventured. “Different from spells—or rather, this is what spells were originally like.” She glanced at Hodge uncertainly. “I read that many spells were developed from accidents and intense desires. Wizards desperately wanted something to happen, and in a single moment, it just… did.”
Hodge nodded slightly.
“I remember Rita Skeeter wrote in one of her articles that most famous wizards in history were lunatics—” Harry began.
“You actually read her stuff?” Ron asked, grimacing.
Hodge shrugged. “Even if you don’t like her, it’s smart to know your enemy. Where was I? Oh, right—‘famous wizards were lunatics.’ That’s a bit extreme, but if you swap ‘lunatics’ for, say, ‘eccentric’ or ‘quirky,’ it’s not far off. You’ve all seen the Chocolate Frog cards, right? The stories about those wizards are often pretty bizarre. Narrow it down to something like wizard dueling, for instance. Professor Flitwick told me that the greatest duelists and legendary Aurors were all tough, stubborn types—borderline obsessive.”
“So you’re saying a wizard’s personality affects their achievements?” Harry asked.
“I’m saying a wizard’s will—their mental resolve—is two sides of the same coin. It strengthens their personality and, in the process, subtly shapes the nature of their magic,” Hodge replied.
BOOM!
A massive crash echoed. The noise from beyond the door fell silent. Hodge gestured for the others to stay put, listening intently for any further sounds. He was already thinking about developing a spell to link his vision with the projection’s. Then, he heard a faint tapping. He cracked the metal door open.
A silvery, ribbon-like tendril floated out, carrying the antique pocket watch.
“The Basilisk’s unconscious,” a faint voice whispered as the misty ribbon brushed past Hodge’s ear. He looked up. “It’s done.”
A moment later, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Tonks stood at a distance, marveling at the enormous Basilisk. Its green scales gleamed vividly, its massive belly exposed. Around it, towering stone pillars and parts of the ceiling had collapsed, pinning the creature’s head beneath the rubble. The group stared in awe.
“Step back a bit,” Hodge said.
He took a deep breath and raised his wand. The magic within him surged violently. The tip of his wand ignited, a swirl of deep purple and molten gold light intertwining, illuminating half the underground chamber.
