Although he received Dumbledore's praise, Maurise did not show any sign of smugness; instead, he frowned slightly.
"But I haven't made any progress in a long time," he said. "No matter how I adjust my incantations or wand movements, I can't seem to achieve a significant improvement."
He seemed to have reached some sort of bottleneck.
It wasn't just the Shield Charm; the Disarming Charm, the Stunning Spell, the Blasting Curse—practically all the spells of this world that he had mastered were the same.
He had originally thought that as his mental strength grew, the power of these spells would naturally increase. But the facts proved otherwise.
Because of this, no matter how much magical power he possessed, he couldn't apply it to the spells; at best, it only gave him more endurance.
After listening to Maurise's problem, Dumbledore calmly shook his head and said, "Maurise, magic does not become stronger overnight. You need more accumulation. Once you have experienced more, you will naturally be able to unleash powerful spells."
Maurise nodded and asked, "Is there a more specific direction?"
Dumbledore glanced at him, the corners of his mouth turning up, seemingly unsurprised by the follow-up question. "A direction specific enough for you to follow?" he asked.
"Yes," Maurise said.
Dumbledore sat up straight, interlaced his fingers in front of him, and wore a serious expression. "If you must have me name something that can make your magic more powerful—it is love."
"Love?" Maurise was taken aback, his tone odd. What kind of abstract theory was this?
Dumbledore saw his confusion and waved a hand. "Of course, it is not merely love. More accurately, it is a wizard's emotions."
Maurise sighed. "I know that a wizard's emotions can amplify the power of a spell, of course. Perhaps in a state of extreme fury, I could cast a devastating Blasting Curse, but... that isn't a state one can maintain long-term."
Dumbledore smiled faintly and uttered a few words: "But love can."
"Er... alright." Maurise felt a slight headache coming on.
Dumbledore's answer probably held very little reference value for him. He understood the logic, but where was he supposed to find "love"?
Dumbledore stood up; the cake plate in front of him was empty at some unknown point.
"I must be going," he said lightly. "I need to pay a visit to Professor McGonagall to discuss the matter of you and Harry's upcoming classes. Though I suppose you hardly need my worry."
Maurise asked in confusion, "So, Professor, what exactly was your business with me today?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I was merely taking a stroll and passed by."
"Alright." Maurise shrugged. "Passing by."
"One more thing." As Dumbledore was leaving, he turned back as if suddenly remembering something. "Tomorrow afternoon, during the first period, there will be the Weighing of the Wands ceremony. It will be in the room at the very end of the left corridor on the second floor. Remember to be there on time."
"Understood," Maurise said.
---
The next morning, Maurise headed to the Great Hall as usual.
Becoming a champion undoubtedly invited a certain amount of trouble, especially for Maurise. He already had many halos attached to his name: the hero who caught Sirius Black, the famous flying broomstick designer, the genius student who always ranked first in exams.
As a result, his popularity at Hogwarts was astronomical. Maurise could clearly feel this, at least judging by the whispers in the corridors and the gazes constantly thrown his way.
While passing through the courtyard, seven or eight girls even ran up to him asking for his autograph. It was getting a bit too exaggerated. The girls at Hogwarts were always so enthusiastic.
After sending them away, Maurise found himself holding several letters and a wrapped gift parcel that someone had shoved into his hands during the chaos.
The letters were all sprayed with perfume and adorned with drawn hearts; the contents were easy enough to guess.
He was just pondering how to deal with these things when a slightly accented voice came from behind him.
"You seem to be very popular."
Maurise turned his head. Fleur was standing a few paces away, her hands behind her back, watching him.
"Obviously," Maurise replied casually. "Who are you looking for?"
"Just wandering around," Fleur said, tilting her chin up. "Although Hogwarts is indeed quite nice, I must say, if you ever have the chance, you absolutely must visit Beauxbatons. You would be amazed."
Her tone was filled with confidence in her own school.
Maurise didn't take the bait. He just stuffed the envelopes he'd received into his pocket and tore open the gift parcel.
Inside were a dozen or so small, round objects sprinkled with icing and sugar crystals. They looked like cookies.
He leaned in and gave them a sniff.
'Just as I thought.'
Immediately after, Maurise let out a sharp whistle. Before long, several owls flew over from different directions and landed in front of him. Maurise squatted down, broke the cookies into small crumbs, and fed them to the birds bit by bit.
Fleur asked curiously, "Are you not going to eat them yourself?"
"They're laced with a love potion," Maurise said without even looking up, continuing to feed the birds.
"A love potion?!" Fleur was startled. "Students here actually use such things?"
She had probably misunderstood something.
Maurise fed the last piece of cookie to the smallest owl, stood up, and brushed the crumbs off his hands. "It is probably just someone trying to play a prank on me. But unfortunately, this love potion was brewed quite poorly. Eating it won't produce any effects; it'll likely just give someone a bad stomachache."
If it had been a properly brewed Amortentia, he would have smelled his favorite scents coming from it, but to him, these cookies smelled like cheese—a food he didn't particularly enjoy.
"I could brew a love potion with my eyes closed," Maurise said disdainfully. "This person's skills are simply too abysmal."
Just as he finished speaking, the owls he had fed suddenly went berserk. They flew erratically through the air, completely losing their sense of direction.
Amidst the chaos, a grey owl swooped straight towards Fleur.
Fleur clearly hadn't anticipated this unexpected situation. The owl landed on her head with its wings spread, its talons tangling into her long silver hair as it frantically flapped its wings.
"Get off!" Fleur's voice carried a distinct note of anger.
In her panic, she stumbled back two steps, tripped on the stone steps, lost her balance, and fell backwards. Fortunately, Maurise grabbed her at the last moment, preventing the back of her head from hitting the ground.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
While supporting Fleur, Maurise cast a wandless Full Body-Bind Curse at the owl. The owl stiffened instantly, its talons releasing Fleur's hair as it plummeted to the ground.
Fleur grabbed Maurise's arm to steady herself, looking thoroughly disheveled. Her hair was a tangled mess with several grey feathers stuck in it, and there was a new red scratch on her face.
"What is wrong with those owls?" she asked furiously.
Maurise let go of Fleur's hand, bent down to pick up the stiffened Tawny Owl, lifted the curse, and released it back into the air.
"Probably because of that botched love potion," he explained. "That is a side effect; it scrambled their brains a bit."
"Bad luck," Fleur muttered, starting to tidy up her hair, her face flushing slightly red.
Maurise had no idea that at this very moment, a figure hidden in the corner was quietly putting away a camera.