New York, Broadway.
The Gershwin Theatre.
The finale of "Faust."
Cellos, double basses, clarinets, French horns, and pianos—the sounds of every instrument flowed forth.
"Virgin! Mother! Goddess! Queen!"
"Bless us with your everlasting mercy."
"…"
As brilliant holy light streamed down from the dome, its pure silver light flowing and shimmering like a substance, scattering the dry ice mist, restrained yet distinct exclamations echoed from the silent theater auditorium.
Security guards patrolled the stage, catching glimpses of the flowing light from the corner of their eyes and slowing their pace slightly.
Even though they'd seen this scene countless times before, they couldn't help but marvel each time.
Below, the well-dressed audience gazed up at the stage, their expressions fixed on their gaze. As the brightly lit golden rotunda slowly dimmed, a look of shock lingered on their shadowed faces.
The only two elderly men in the back row looked different. Their expressions were calm, but their eyes gleamed with amusement, as if they were enjoying the show.
The man on the left was hard to discern, but beyond his thick, graying beard, one could only see a pair of crescent-shaped glasses. His eyes, far from cloudy, shone a clear, azure blue.
"Moonstone, livid grass... what a stunning stage design,"
the gray-haired man muttered softly, a smile etched in his voice. "Thanks to him, everyone here, including me, will have a sweet dream tonight."
A friend beside him nodded slightly, his voice hoarse and weak, "Moonstone, born in June, symbolizes health, longevity, and wealth. The moonlight can soothe restlessness and anxiety, lulling us into a peaceful sleep."
Judging by the sagging skin and wrinkles, he must be older, but his beard was gone, and his hair was different, shorter and more silvery, exuding an indescribable mystery.
The old man with white hair and beard pondered for a moment: "A question that has nothing to do with the opera, Nico, this wizard... stage special effects designer, how did he get approval from the United States Magical Congress?"
"You didn't even have the patience to wait until the curtain fell, Albus."
The old man named Nico was a little dissatisfied, but fortunately the most exciting part of the show was over, and the answer to the question also involved some interesting things, so he didn't care too much: "In fact, he didn't submit it to the United States Magical Congress for approval at all."
"Oh?"
Albus Dumbledore's eyes lit up, and he immediately became interested: "The Aurors of the Woolworth Building will not allow him to openly violate the Statute of Secrecy."
"Arrogant Albus, what makes you assume that he violated the Statute of Secrecy?"
"Those flowing moonlight..."
"If any Auror or inspector makes a complaint, they will find in the court of inquiry that these stage effects are all created by Muggle technology, and his Muggle assistants can reproduce them perfectly."
Nicol Flamel's face showed an obvious smile: "This kind of thing has happened more than once in the past two months. Last week's New York Ghost was a special report on his front page."
"I remember, the dropout from Ilvermorny who struck down the congressional judge with procedural justice..."
Dumbledore stroked the armrests of the chair with his fingers, raised his head to look at the stage, his deep gaze seemed to look through the curtain to the backstage:
"Melvin Levent."
...
"Everything is impermanent, it's just an illusion;
"Everything that is unpredictable has become a reality here..."
As the last chant ended, the actors stood side by side, and some behind-the-scenes staff also walked out of the backstage, facing the thunderous applause from the audience, and bowed to express their gratitude.
Behind the leading actors, the two people in charge of stage special effects design stood together and were talking in a low voice.
"Melvin, your name is already famous in Broadway. I heard that someone in Hollywood has offered a high price to hire you to make a movie. Your name will spread all over the world. "A young white woman muttered. She was wearing a navy blue blazer, her long blond hair draped over her shoulders.
Standing next to her was a tall and handsome man, his hands hanging naturally at his sides. A gray-black ring adorned the slender ring finger of his left hand. He had black hair and black eyes, and a gentle smile on his face. His deep, dark pupils reflected a strange glimmer.
"Thank you for your well wishes,"
Melvin replied absently, glancing down at the audience. The opera was over, the auditorium lights had come on, and the thousands of spectators were neatly arranged according to their seats, like rows of identical stuffed dolls, indistinguishable from one another.
"I'm going to the restroom, Claire. Meet me in the office after curtain call."
"Okay, you're my boss after all... I hope you have a good restroom."
"..."
Melvin glanced at her calmly and turned to leave.
Reaching the backstage sink, the clamor had faded into a faint, distant haze. A faint, chaotic smell, a mixture of disinfectant and ammonia, filled his nostrils, causing Melvin to frown slightly as he entered the restroom.
[Whirlwind Cleansing]
In the quiet, deserted restroom, a whistling wind suddenly erupted, the kind of sound only heard in the wilderness or a valley. A transparent, invisible vortex swept through the room, enveloping and trapping the unpleasant odor.
Melvin waved his hand, and the formless vortex suddenly gathered in front of him, converging into a small black ball that, at first glance, resembled a hazelnut chocolate bar.
"Stink bomb..."
Melvin chuckled softly, feeling quite cheerful.
His wandless cleansing spells, unlike when he'd just left school, were now a breeze. Transfiguration was even more proficient, and his silent casting speed had increased significantly. The surge in magical power over the past six months had finally led to a qualitative change. At his current level, he should be able to take on most of the senior Aurors in MACUSA head-on.
The audience tonight was particularly lively, as if there were some extraordinary beings lurking beneath the stage.
Putting away the projectile, Melvin looked up at the mirror.
It reflected a room, its left and right sides reversed, and a figure, its left and right sides reversed.
Deep within the figure's eyes, the dark pupils still shone with a faint, crystalline glimmer, though only a few creatures could see it. It was a sign of the growth and flow of magical power.
Yes, this world truly possessed incredible magic, and those who mastered it were called wizards.
And Melvin Lewynter happened to be a wizard, having studied magic at a place called Ilvermorny.
Ilvermorny, America's only school of wizardry, is located atop Mount Greylock in Massachusetts. A castle steeped in history and legend, it is now one of the world's most renowned schools of magic.
Unfortunately, Melvin never completed his studies.
The wizarding government of the United States is Magical Congress, and its education laws are imperfect, having last been revised fifty years ago. They contain nothing resembling compulsory education. The professors at Ilvermorny are accommodating, and Melvin has no troublesome relatives to deal with.
Six months ago, in late 1990, Melvin had spent his seventh Christmas at school. With graduation approaching, he took a leave of absence and became a stage designer for the Gershwin Theatre on Broadway, quickly rising to prominence.
The rewards were a generous salary and a rapidly growing magical power.
Melvin quietly felt the flowing magic, memories of his time at Ilvermorny returning to his mind. He turned on the faucet and rinsed his hands with the cool water.
According to school history, Ilvermorny was founded in the 17th century, starting with a simple stone hut. Its founder, Isolt Sayre, was not a great wizard, having achieved any notable fame in the wizarding world, much less her No-Maj lover, James Stewart. The school's only commendable quality was its inclusive spirit, which allowed it to capitalize on the immigration waves of the following centuries, attracting wizarding students from around the world and developing into one of the most renowned schools of magic. This was inseparable from the founder of another legendary wizarding school,
Salazar Slytherin.
As a collateral descendant of Slytherin, Isolt Sayre held an inexplicable connection to that legendary wizard. Legend has it that she stole Slytherin's treasures, including countless gold, silver, and gems, a mysterious snakewood wand, and ancient magical research manuscripts...
The treasure may be hidden in the school's underground vaults, the snakewood wand transformed into a snake tree and perched on the cliffs of Greylock, and the research manuscripts may be hidden in the restricted section of Ilvermorny's library.
None of this was Melvin's fault; his gift came from a strange, horned water snake. The Horned Water Snake:
A
magical snake with pointed horns on its head, found in many different species worldwide. Large numbers of specimens have been captured in the Far East, and its primary habitat is the Americas. Legend has it that
wizards in Massachusetts
saw a different species of Horned Water Snake with a gemstone on its forehead that grants it invisibility and flight, and it's suspected t
o possess precognitive powers.
A new author and new book, please add it to your collection!
(End of chapter)