Summer, 1991.
Cavill House, Living Room—
On the sofa, Minerva McGonagall frowned deeply.
She looked at the tall boy in front of her, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke cautiously: "Forgive my presumption, Mr. Cavill, but are you... truly only eleven years old?"
"I just had my birthday a few months ago." Clark Cavill grinned, revealing eight neat teeth. "Coincidentally, I have a question too."
Minerva McGonagall nodded gently. "I would be happy to answer it for you."
Clark blinked his eyes, looking innocent... to be precise, it was three parts simple, three parts confused, and ninety-four parts asking for a beating as he spoke: "Ma'am, why is your head pointy?"
Minerva McGonagall: ???
What did he mean by 'pointy head'?
This is a hat, for goodness' sake!
"Robes and pointed hats are traditional wizarding attire," Minerva McGonagall pushed up her glasses and explained patiently. "All wizards like them."
"Oh—" Clark nodded as if he understood.
"Back to the point." Minerva McGonagall evidently didn't want to dwell on this topic. She raised her volume slightly and said to Clark with a serious expression, "Mr. Cavill, are you certain that you are a wizard?"
Clark thought for a moment, and with an inexplicable emotion, he said word for word: "I feel that I am."
Either you are, or you aren't.
What does 'I feel that I am' mean?
Minerva McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "According to the description from Mr. and Mrs. Cavill, you awakened your magical talent half a month ago, is that correct?"
"Right, right, right! Half a month ago." Speaking of this, Clark got excited. "At first I was a little scared, but then I thought, 'What the hell am I afraid of? Others should be afraid,' and then I wasn't afraid anymore. You might not believe it if I told you, but overnight, I became this tall and beat the bullies so bad they couldn't find north!"
As he spoke, Clark flexed his arms vigorously.
Muscles instantly bulged, stretching the semi-new plaid shirt tight.
Minerva McGonagall saw this and hesitated to speak.
Clark, however, seemed to have opened a floodgate and continued on his own: "Of course, those bad kids couldn't beat me before either, it's just that they came in groups and were troublesome to deal with. Speaking of which, I have new worries now. I have to control my strength at all times, otherwise... By the way, is fighting allowed at Hogsmeade?"
Clark's thinking was very erratic, and Minerva McGonagall almost couldn't keep up.
After pondering for a moment, the witch with the pointy hat shook her head and said, "Hogwarts is a place for young wizards to learn and master magical skills. Vicious incidents like fighting and brawling are not allowed. Also, it is 'Hogwarts', not 'Hogsmeade', Mr. Cavill. Please remember this well. If you are truly fortunate enough to enroll, I do not wish for you to mispronounce the school's name."
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts!" Clark repeated it three times and clapped his hands happily. "Okay! I remember!"
Minerva McGonagall didn't dislike this kind of energetic child. She chuckled softly, "Then, let us proceed to the next stage."
"Next stage? What is the next stage?" Clark asked curiously.
Minerva McGonagall extended her right hand in an inviting gesture. "Come, show me that you are indeed a wizard, and not a Muggle... I mean, an ordinary person without magic."
She paused, then explained, "Usually, whether one possesses magical talent is judged by the 'Book of Admittance' and the 'Quill of Acceptance'. But you are different; your name is not on the 'Book of Admittance'. Therefore, I must witness your magical talent with my own eyes to judge whether you are qualified to attend Hogwarts."
"I don't know if this counts as magic..."
Clark scratched his head.
The next second, his eyes turned completely crimson.
At the same time, an aura of destruction brewed wildly!
Minerva McGonagall could no longer remain calm. She stood up abruptly, drawing her wand almost instinctively.
Clark stopped quickly and waved his hands repeatedly. "Sorry, is this move a bit too low-level and not up to wizard standards? Uh, I'll change it, I'll change to a 'high-level' one."
Before Minerva McGonagall could speak, Clark puffed up his cheeks and blew at the glass cup on the coffee table.
In an instant, the water in the glass froze into ice.
Minerva McGonagall unconsciously widened her eyes. "You..."
"There's more!" Clark raised his hand. "Don't rush, I have other skills."
Minerva McGonagall forced back the words that were about to leave her mouth, feigned calmness, and coughed lightly. "What other skills, Mr. Cavill? Please display them all."
"Alrighty."
Clark seemed relieved.
He walked to the center of the living room.
"I practiced this move for three days before I could control it freely."
After saying that, under Minerva McGonagall's gaze, Clark rose little by little, his feet gradually leaving the ground...
"My heavens!" Minerva McGonagall could no longer suppress the shock in her heart. "Mr. Cavill, how on earth did you do that?"
"Huh?" Clark, floating in the air, didn't quite understand the meaning of her words and asked back, "Just flying. Isn't this a very normal thing for wizards?"
Wizards can indeed fly.
But the premise is riding a broomstick!
Except for that villain whose name cannot be mentioned, Minerva McGonagall did not know of any wizard who could fly without external aid, relying solely on magic!
Then again...
Was that really magic?
Compared to magic, Minerva McGonagall felt it was more like a talent, or an instinct.
"Without a doubt—you are a wizard, Mr. Cavill, you are a wizard through and through." Minerva McGonagall composed herself and looked straight into Clark's clear, emerald-like eyes. "Although I don't quite understand it, nor can I comprehend it, you absolutely possess magical talent."
Hearing this, Clark seemed a bit excited and swung his fist vigorously. "Ha! I knew it!"
Minerva McGonagall was very certain she heard the sound of the fist breaking the sound barrier...
After thinking for a moment, she decided to let Clark stay alone for a while.
After giving a few instructions, she left the living room and walked into the slightly crowded dining room of the Cavill home.
At the edge of the long table covered with burlap in the center of the dining room, Martha Cavill and Jonathan Cavill looked slightly uneasy.
The elderly Mrs. Lip was rubbing a chubby hamster with her dry, thin hands.
Seeing Minerva McGonagall arrive, the Cavill couple quickly stood up.
Mrs. Lip sat still, looked up slightly, and revealed a scary smile to Minerva McGonagall. "Checked the boy, Minerva?"
"Yes." Minerva McGonagall's expression carried a bit of gravity. "Little Clark is a wizard, undoubtedly."
"I told you long ago, but you wouldn't believe it." Mrs. Lip continued to rub the hamster, saying triumphantly, "This old woman's eyes are the sharpest!"
Minerva McGonagall did not comment. She turned to look at the Cavill couple beside her. "Mr. Cavill, Mrs. Cavill, could you please tell me again about how you adopted little Clark?"
The couple looked at each other.
Finally, Jonathan spoke: "It was a night eleven years ago..."
"February 27th," Martha added.
"Right, February 27th." Jonathan quickly corrected himself.
Minerva McGonagall politely did not rush them.
Jonathan, with a look of reminiscence, said in a deep voice, "That night was very dark, and a meteor crossed the sky. I don't know why, but our old dog Bruce suddenly barked wildly and rushed into the depths of the wheat field. I went to find him, and after only a few steps, I found an abandoned child."
"That child was Clark." Martha naturally took over the conversation. "At that time, he was clutching an amulet. He was so small, so thin..."
"Wait, amulet?" Minerva McGonagall keenly sensed something and asked, "What kind of amulet? Did it have a crest or any obvious markings?"
"A necklace-shaped amulet, made of silver, simple in style." Martha gestured with her hands. "A long silver chain, with a stone hanging from it."
"A green stone..." Minerva McGonagall fell into thought.
"I've seen that amulet; there's nothing special about it." Just then, Mrs. Lip interjected. "The silver is ordinary silver, with no magic attached. As for that greenish stone, it's not a gemstone either. Who knows which corner it was dug out from."
Hearing Mrs. Lip's words, for some reason, Minerva McGonagall thought of little Clark's clear green eyes...
"Can I see that amulet?" Minerva McGonagall asked tentatively.
"No."
Mrs. Lip refused flatly.
The Cavill couple also shook their heads constantly.
"Why?" Minerva McGonagall asked in confusion. "Is there something inconvenient?"
"It's not that we won't show you, but that the amulet strangely disappeared." Mrs. Lip looked solemn. "It was as if some time limit was reached, and it vanished without a trace."
"Then—little Clark grew taller and became stronger." Jonathan's eyes held deep worry. "After the amulet disappeared, his strength became astonishingly great. He can lift my tractor with one hand. This is obviously not normal."
"Except for a sudden magical awakening, I can't find any other reason." Mrs. Lip spread her hands. "So, I wrote a letter to Mr. Dumbledore explaining the situation with little Clark. I've lived in seclusion here for so long that I've long since detached myself from the wizarding world. I didn't expect to contact the wizarding world again because of little Clark... Fate is truly a wondrous thing."
Minerva McGonagall thought for a moment and said solemnly to the Cavill couple and Mrs. Lip, "Little Clark is too special; it has exceeded the scope of what I can handle. Please wait here a moment. I will return to Hogwarts immediately and report the situation to Headmaster Dumbledore."
"What! This matter needs to trouble Mr. Dumbledore?" Mrs. Lip simply couldn't believe her ears. "That child is only eleven years old. Why should an ordinary eleven-year-old little wizard alarm Mr. Dumbledore? He isn't 'Harry Potter'!"
"Because Clark is not ordinary. He is an extremely special child, even more special than Mr. Potter." Minerva McGonagall explained, "This specialness exceeds the ancient magic of the 'Book of Admittance' and the 'Quill of Acceptance', and it also exceeds the scope of my understanding. Therefore, it must be handled personally by Headmaster Dumbledore."
Headmaster Dumbledore...
Who is that?
The Cavill couple looked worriedly at their old acquaintance, Mrs. Lip.
Mrs. Lip saw through the couple's hearts and said gently, "Albus Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards in the world. In certain specific circumstances, you can even remove 'one of'. You don't need to worry about what Mr. Dumbledore will do to little Clark. Apart from having a somewhat eccentric personality, he can be said to be a perfect elder."
'Perfect elder'?
The image of a tall figure wearing starry robes and a pointed hat, holding honey tea, appeared before Minerva McGonagall's eyes, and she unconsciously pursed her lips.
Without delay, she decided to return to Hogwarts immediately.
Before leaving, she specifically instructed the Cavill couple and Mrs. Lip not to let little Clark know about this, so as not to add unnecessary pressure.
The couple and Mrs. Lip readily agreed.
Little did they know, Clark had already heard the adults' conversation in its entirety...
Swear to heaven, he didn't do it on purpose!
It was just that he wasn't very skilled at controlling the 'Super Hearing' part yet.
"Albus Dumbledore? What a strange name." In the living room, Clark pretended to be mature, crossing his arms over his chest. "However, he sounds quite capable."
Dumbledore was indeed capable.
And extremely efficient.
In just over forty minutes, he arrived at the Cavill home according to the address provided by Minerva McGonagall.
Mrs. Lip received him on behalf of the Cavill couple and proactively handed him a cup of deathly sweet black tea.
Unexpectedly, Dumbledore was not in a hurry to drink the tea. He stroked his beard and said with a smile, "Let's get down to business first. I heard from Minerva that there is an incredible child here, and I must personally make contact to judge whether he has the qualifications to enter Hogwarts?"
"Mr. Dumbledore..." Jonathan's lips were dry as he spoke nervously to Dumbledore. "Clark is a good boy. He absolutely has the qualifications... qualifications for enrollment."
"Haha, Mr. Cavill, don't be nervous. I was just joking. Since it is confirmed that little Clark is a wizard, Hogwarts will not give up on him." Dumbledore winked at Jonathan. "I swear in the name of Merlin, there is nothing to worry about..."
Hearing this, Jonathan and Martha finally relaxed.
Dumbledore was telling the truth.
But, he didn't finish speaking.
The honest Muggle couple really had nothing to worry about.
Because the ones who needed to worry were others.
For example, those little wizards at Hogwarts...
Thinking of this, Dumbledore spoke softly with a gentle smile, "Alright, we have plenty of time for small talk later. But now, please let me meet little Clark. That is exactly why I came."
The Cavill couple naturally had no objections.
But before they could go upstairs to find Clark, Clark came down on his own.
The tall and strong boy showed no stage fright and proactively extended his hand to Dumbledore. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dumbledore. I've heard a lot about you."
Dumbledore smiled, shaking hands amicably with Clark while asking, "You've heard my stories?"
"No." Clark held Dumbledore's hand tightly and used his quick wits to say, "But your face is written full of stories."
Dumbledore was stunned for a moment, then laughed loudly.
To be honest, this posture was somewhat wild for a highly respected elder.
But Dumbledore didn't care about his image at all.
When he had laughed enough, he looked at Clark, who was only five or six heads shorter than him, and sighed from the bottom of his heart, "You are really tall, Mr. Cavill. When I was eleven, compared to you, I was like a dwarf radish."
"You know, anything can happen during puberty, including me growing 35 inches overnight..." Clark scratched his head. "It's quite magical; maybe it's the power of magic."
"Yes, I can't find a more reasonable explanation either. In short, Mr. Cavill, I would like to conduct a series of tests on you. Could you please cooperate with me?" Dumbledore asked Clark in an inquiring tone. "Don't worry, it's just a test, not an exam. No matter what, you are already a member of Hogwarts."
"That's great!" Clark was excited enough to fly.
Not a metaphor.
But literally 'fly'.
Dumbledore's eyes went straight instantly.
After a good while, he pushed up his half-moon spectacles that had slipped down inadvertently and smiled at Clark, "Let's go. I can't wait to see your other skills."
Clark indeed had skills.
In the wasteland behind the farm, he displayed Heat Vision, Freeze Breath, Flight, Super Strength, Super Vision, and other abilities to Dumbledore without any scruples.
Dumbledore frowned at times and stared wide-eyed at others.
Finally—
The old wizard with the white beard waved to Clark in the sky.
Clark flew down and asked excitedly, "Mr. Dumbledore, have I reached the average level of a Hogwarts freshman?"
Dumbledore hesitated for a while and said truthfully, "Other little wizards do not have this level."
After a few seconds of silence, he said with a strange expression, "Neither do I."
The first point to confirm is—
Magic leaves traces.
It does not appear out of thin air, nor does it disappear out of thin air.
Certain wizards indeed do not need to chant spells, but this does not mean that with just a thought, they can fly around in the sky like Clark, or shoot scorching rays from their eyes capable of shattering mountains and cracking rocks.
This child is not right!
Dumbledore quickly came to a conclusion in his heart.
However, knowledgeable as he was, he could not find a reasonable cause to explain the anomalies occurring in Clark Cavill.
Flying into the sky and burrowing into the earth, swallowing fire and spitting ice.
Obviously not a Muggle.
Since he isn't a Muggle, and displays so many extraordinary traits, he can only be a wizard.
However, Dumbledore, who had lived for over a hundred years, did not understand that there exists a peculiar existence in the world called aliens...
Night.
Hogwarts Castle, Eighth Floor, Headmaster's Office—
"Password," the stone gargoyle guarding the gate asked in a buzzing voice.
McGonagall spoke in a deep voice: "Candy Cane."
The stone gargoyle remained motionless.
Seeing this, McGonagall tentatively said: "Peppermint Chocolate."
The stone gargoyle still didn't move.
McGonagall pursed her lips, rummaged in her robe pocket for a moment, and found a flyer for new products from 'Honeydukes'.
She read them in order from top to bottom. When she read "Concentrated Cockroach Clusters," the stone gargoyle finally obediently stepped aside, revealing the gleaming oak door behind it.
McGonagall folded the flyer with a blank expression and reached out to push open the door in front of her.
Behind the door was a spacious circular room.
There were many items, and the furnishings were quaint.
The surrounding walls were covered with portraits of past headmasters.
In the corner, there was a huge long table covered with various books.
On the shelf behind it sat the dirty Sorting Hat.
A sickly phoenix lay weakly on a gilded perch. Seeing an outsider enter, it didn't even lift its eyelids.
"Oh, dear Minerva, I didn't expect to see you at this time." Behind the heavy desk, Dumbledore raised his head, revealing a gentle smile. "Looking for me for something?"
"Headmaster, I want to talk to you." McGonagall went straight to the point, looking directly into Dumbledore's deep eyes. "About... Clark Cavill's enrollment."
"Alright." Dumbledore nodded, temporarily shifting his attention away from the thick book in front of him.
He crossed his fingers on the table, met McGonagall's gaze, and spoke slowly: "First of all, we must be clear that Clark Cavill is a wizard, a genuine wizard."
McGonagall sat down on the sofa. "Yes, he is a wizard."
"Secondly, that child is a very special wizard." Dumbledore pushed his glasses and carefully considered his words. "A special, extraordinary, unique wizard."
"Agreed. Even the 'Book of Admittance' and the 'Quill of Acceptance' could not sense little Clark, which indirectly explains that the magic hidden within him has exceeded the range of those two ancient hallows." McGonagall crossed her arms, a trace of worry unconsciously flashing through her eyes. "To be honest, I am a bit worried about the child's future."
"Your worry is very necessary." Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I think so too—Clark needs more care and guidance than other little wizards."
McGonagall did not speak.
After about two minutes, she asked with a complicated expression, "Then what about the other children? If we let little Clark enroll, it is equivalent to locking a humanoid dragon inside the castle. Perhaps this dragon has no malicious intent, but if he casually turns over or sneezes, it will cause unimaginable disaster."
Hearing this, Dumbledore spread his hands helplessly. "Remember what I said? 'Care' and 'Guidance'. You know, there is no place more suitable for little Clark than Hogwarts. Unless... you are willing to build a high tower and set up countless magical spells to lock that child inside."
McGonagall said grumpily, "Headmaster, I am not in the mood for jokes right now."
"This isn't a joke; I have indeed thought about it." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
McGonagall: ???
Do you know you're breaking the law?
Have you heard of the "Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery"?
"Alright, alright, I won't lock little Clark in any tower. For an eleven-year-old child, that would be too inhumane." Dumbledore's expression converged slightly, and he said seriously, "As the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I will do my best to protect little Clark. Within these seven years, I will let him learn to control his own power."
After pondering for a moment, his expression relaxed. "Actually, his control is quite good right now. I mean, he clearly has the strength to lift a giant with one hand, yet he can steadily hold a ceramic teacup. With this self-control, I believe little Clark won't have much difficulty getting along with his classmates. Moreover, I have made an agreement with him that he will not reveal his special talents without my consent."
"Little Clark is a bit mischievous, but I can tell he is a good child. However, Dumbledore, there is one thing I must remind you of: beware of little Clark's power being used by certain people with ulterior motives." McGonagall looked serious. "You should know what I am talking about."
"Clark is not Tom." Dumbledore looked as usual. "I will not make the same mistake twice."
"As long as you know what you're doing." McGonagall did not delve deeper into this issue.
Instead, Dumbledore thought of something and mentioned a matter she didn't know before.
"Besides the inexplicable miracles, Minerva, did you know? Little Clark's resistance to magic is also extremely..." The old wizard gestured with his hands and finally selected a word: "Exaggerated."
'Exaggerated'?
McGonagall didn't understand.
Dumbledore explained, "The magic resistance I speak of refers to the influence of magic on little Clark himself. Perhaps you know that little Clark has a mysterious amulet. I suspect that there is some kind of magic on that amulet that has influenced little Clark for years, resulting in his magic resistance being astonishingly strong now. And this influence is still continuing, deepening as little Clark grows older."
McGonagall was slow to recover her senses and asked somewhat uncertainly, "You mean, little Clark not only possesses frightening magical talent, but other people's magic also has limited effect on him, is that right?"
"Yes. Making a bold hypothesis, if little Clark's magic resistance reaches a range we cannot understand, I even suspect that he could withstand the 'Killing Curse' without dying!"
Words that startle people to death.
As soon as Dumbledore opened his mouth, he dropped a heavy bombshell.
McGonagall was completely speechless.
The existence of that boy had already overturned her cognition.
Even Merlin, a household name in Britain, could not compare to Clark Cavill in terms of talent.
"Get ready, Minerva. Prepare to welcome Hogwarts' most potential... no, perhaps history's most potential, and at the same time, most dangerous student." Dumbledore took off his half-moon spectacles, his eyes burning bright. "I have a premonition that in the future, little Clark will achieve great things, greater than you, greater than me."
What else could McGonagall say?
Nodding was all she could do.
After all, she only had the right to suggest, not the right to decide.
Matters big and small at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were decided by Albus Dumbledore.
This point was beyond doubt.