Chapter 204 – Everyone's Speculations
Everyone has a different understanding of what a wizard is.
In the Muggle world, due to varying cultures, in some places it refers to people who pretend to be gods and pray on others' behalf; in others, it refers to fortune-tellers, oracle readers, or magic card interpreters. Some believe wizards are people with extraordinary abilities who protect others from disasters, enemies, or the supernatural. They are also seen as judges of right and wrong, manipulators of nature, and explainers of terrifying phenomena.
Among all those perceptions, the professors at Hogwarts—who are part of the best wizarding institutions—see wizards as mortals with special powers.
Wizards can change the form and appearance of objects, alter their intrinsic properties, and at their peak, even brew potions for immortality or manipulate time itself.
But wizards themselves are fragile. Unlike magical creatures, they cannot instinctively control magic. They must use gestures, spoken spells, and tools like wands.
Using only gestures or words yields weak magical effects. Like the wizards of Uagadou in Africa, who rely more on Animagus transformations for combat, gesture magic is mostly used for stealth or survival.
Using only a wand, without chanting or movement, is a "silent spell"—something taught in fifth year at Hogwarts. The reason it still works is because the wand itself remembers magic and contains powerful magical substances.
In short, the wand is what allows a wizard to "imitate" a magical creature.
So the mysterious young man in the vision… he didn't seem like a wizard at all.
He seemed more like a humanoid magical creature.
This realization left the four professors in Dumbledore's office silent, each deep in thought after Dumbledore's question.
"Wandless casting is already too difficult for our British wizards—it's nearly impossible in real combat situations."
"But this so-called 'magician'—his magic, triggered by mere words and movements—achieves what even skilled wand-wielding wizards can barely do."
"Moreover, I suspect his body has undergone magical transformation. That's extremely advanced and obscure magic… But to alter oneself so perfectly, with no outward change? That's far beyond what we can currently do."
—Professor McGonagall, breaking the silence first.
As a master of Transfiguration, McGonagall knew how far magical self-transformation still had to go. And this was beyond it.
"Minerva's looking at this through Transfiguration. Let me offer a view from my own expertise."
"The Devil's Snare is something even first-year students study. It's considered rare and dangerous, but it's easy to overcome—just expose it to sunlight."
"It's used in every magical school's curriculum because it's easy to obtain and to teach with."
"But that young man? He recognized the plant instantly, called it by name, and even referenced the moon."
"I suspect he's never seen Devil's Snare directly—he likely grew up in a sealed magical environment, where they referred to the moon metaphorically."
—Professor Sprout added, reflecting on his strange phrasing.
"The 'moon'… A closed environment. Or maybe… why not think bigger?"
"Why couldn't he literally come from the moon?"
"His spellcasting methods, his proficiency… It's not something an individual or family could develop alone. He must be from a magical society completely unknown to us."
"And the moon? That's the one place wizards have never inhabited or explored."
—Professor Flitwick speculated, drawing on what he had seen from Alexander Smith's casting.
What Flitwick didn't know, of course, was that Alexander Smith had a system plug-in—a magical interface that helped him create his own casting style from scratch, perfectly suited to himself. He had nearly reached Level 7, and his magic far surpassed normal expectations.
Alexander had deliberately put on a show, hoping the professors would misunderstand—and it worked.
After Flitwick voiced his theory, the others began nodding in agreement.
"You know, I live in Spinner's End, and I've seen Muggle news—America's space program landed people on the moon using rockets."
"What if wizards were involved behind the scenes? That so-called 'magician' may come from a hidden wizarding faction that went to the moon."
"Ridiculous as it sounds… it fits."
—Professor Snape offered his conclusion.
"Excellent. That's exactly what I was thinking."
—Dumbledore said with a smile.
"So, who is he really?"
"Isn't that why you called us here?"
Snape pressed, his brow furrowed.
"Correct, Severus. That was just the appetizer. There's more you must understand—things even I may not know."
Dumbledore replied, feigning weariness.
But before he could finish, the Philosopher's Stone—silent until now—lit up again.
This time, a new image appeared.
A phoenix rose from the void and sank into the back of Quirrell's head, followed by Harry Potter emerging from black flames. Then, Quirrell collapsed.
"Was that… you, Albus?"
McGonagall asked, stunned.
She had assumed that Dumbledore was the one who stopped Quirrell, especially after he said he'd been following Harry.
But this scene suggested otherwise—Harry had acted alone.
Yet… could it really be over so simply?
The image continued to play.
"What?! That's Harry Potter!"
Flitwick cried out in surprise.
McGonagall and Sprout were speechless. Snape leaned forward, eager to catch every detail he had missed.
"Yes, that's Harry."
Dumbledore nodded—half surprised, half serious.
He hadn't expected the stone to record this. What he meant to bring up was actually something else—Sirius Black.