The moment his cool fingertips touched the metallic cover,
inside his mind's palace, a previously unimaginable, golden-glowing, epic-level quest was officially triggered.
[Epic-Level Quest Activated: Creation of an Information Medium]
[Quest Description: Theory must be validated through practice. Use your knowledge to successfully store at least 1GB of digitized Muggle-world data in a stable, readable form within a non-electronic magical object.]
The night was deep, and the Gryffindor common room was silent except for the faint crackling of the fireplace. The flickering flames cast long shadows across the crimson tapestries, twisting into strange and grotesque shapes.
Alan Scott closed the heavy tome A Metaphysical Exploration of Information Theory and Magical Media. Its cover was slightly warped from repeated handling. His fingers unconsciously traced the cover while his mind raced at full speed, processing the flood of knowledge he had just absorbed—knowledge capable of overturning the entire magical world.
Every piece of matter is a carrier of information.
Magic is the ultimate technology for editing information.
This theory was not a spell, nor a potion. It was a key—a master key capable of unlocking the underlying logic of all magic. In Alan's mind's palace, a grand new structure, based on information and logic, was rising from the ground.
He could not yet reach its pinnacle, nor achieve what the book described—compressing the entirety of Hogwarts Library's collection into a single crystal.
But every great project begins with the first brick.
He decided tonight he would lay his first brick.
Wednesday night, the dormitory air was a mix of old parchment, ink, and a faint trace of nitre from mischievous pranks. Fred, George, and Lee Jordan sat on the floor, eagerly discussing how to equip Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, with a pair of glowing antlers.
"Wait."
Alan's voice was soft but clear, cutting through their scheming. He picked up an item from his bedside table.
Fred, George, and Lee's eyes immediately fixed on it. It was a quill—an ordinary-looking quill made from an eagle feather, its tip slightly worn.
"Look at this." Alan held the quill before the three of them.
"A pen?" Fred frowned, confusion written across his face. "Alan, we know you're a bookworm, but you're not about to show us your stationery collection, are you? What's so special about it? Does it do your homework for you?"
"Not quite." A faint curve appeared at the corner of Alan's mouth—a mysterious smile reserved for creators before unveiling a new invention. "But it's almost entirely autonomous."
The room fell silent for a moment.
"Autonomous?" Lee leaned forward, curiosity shining in his eyes, his head almost touching the quill.
Alan didn't explain further—actions spoke louder than words.
He dipped the quill's tip into the ink bottle. Black ink collected at the tip, thick and ready to flow.
Then, he raised the quill to his lips, as if issuing a sacred command. His voice was clear and steady:
"Classification command: Charms class notes."
He then wrote a few words on a fresh sheet of parchment:
"Floating Spell."
A miracle happened.
The ink flowing from the quill was not the black from the bottle. It was a clear, sky-blue shade, as if drawn from the clear skies above Hogwarts. The blue mark solidified instantly on the cream parchment, crisp and vibrant.
Fred and George's teasing expressions vanished, replaced by pure astonishment.
Alan didn't stop.
He raised the quill to his lips again and issued a second command:
"Classification command: Potions class notes."
He wrote another word next to Floating Spell:
"Scabious Potion."
This time, the color on the parchment was completely different—a deep, mossy green, like the forest floor in the Forbidden Forest. The two contrasting colors side by side created a striking visual impact.
"Whoa!"
Lee could no longer contain himself. He let out a sharp exclamation, leaning back in shock. "It… it can change the ink color based on your voice!"
"That's right."
Finally, a trace of pride appeared on Alan's face—the quiet satisfaction of an inventor. He gently placed the quill on the desk with a crisp click.
"A simple little invention."
He looked at his friends' eager, wide-eyed expressions and began explaining the principle behind it.
"The ink bottle isn't special. What I changed is the quill itself."
He tapped the quill tip lightly with his index finger.
"First, I used a basic Color Detection Charm, but unlike its usual application, I modified its trigger mechanism. Now it responds to the magical energy frequencies I inject. Different energy frequencies allow the tip to absorb and condense different colored magical pigment particles from the surrounding air."
He paused and moved his finger along the quill shaft.
"Then, I added a basic Voice Recognition Charm to the shaft. The critical step: I linked its recognition results to the Color Detection Charm's magical frequencies through a logic circuit I created."
His gaze sharpened, like an engineer examining precision machinery.
"I set a few simple voice commands as input. For example, the sound signal 'Charms class' is captured by the Voice Recognition Charm, which triggers the corresponding 'blue frequency' output, producing blue ink. 'Potions class' triggers the green frequency. 'Transfiguration' corresponds to silver."
The result: this seemingly ordinary quill was forcibly transformed into an intelligent, color-changing, command-responsive quill.
Its function was simple, almost trivial.
Yet its underlying principle was staggering—even seasoned wizards would be amazed.
He had successfully combined two independent, unrelated basic spells into a logical program, forcing them to work together like synchronized gears in a machine.
This was the first, rudimentary, yet rock-solid prototype of Alan's ambitious "Magical Automation Spell Program."
Silence.
Only the crackling of the fireplace remained in the dormitory.
Fred and George stared at the quill, their breaths heavy. They weren't looking at a pen—they were staring at ten mobile vaults of gold Galleons.
"Alan…" Fred's voice was hoarse. He swallowed. "You… you're a genius!"
George slapped his thigh, eyes sparkling with unprecedented excitement—the same glow Alan had seen only when they invented the Instant Detention Escape Sweets.
"Quick! Make one for each of us!"
"No! Make two!" Fred added immediately, his business instincts firing at full power. "One for us, and we can sell the other to those Ravenclaw bookworms! They'll fight to the death for it!"
Seeing their fervent, almost fanatical excitement, the tension from creation melted from Alan's mind, replaced by pure satisfaction.
He immediately agreed to their "order."
~~----------------------
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