Chapter 105: Ancient Curse
"Such an energetic young person," said Kate Winslet as she walked in, her tone filled with admiration. She was holding a thick book in her hands.
Ravenclaw students always carried heavy books with them. Whether in the dining hall, on the playground, in the dormitory, or in the classroom—whenever what was in front of them failed to capture their attention or resonate with them, they would start reading and immerse themselves in the ocean of books. Some read textbooks, some travel journals, some novels, and some seemed to be reading solitude itself.
"You're only a few years older than them, alright?" George couldn't help but laugh. It was often the young who felt they were no longer young, while older people tended to do the opposite—trying to chase youth and pretend to be young.
The oldest rarely thought about youth at all. They were more likely to lose themselves in memories. Having experienced and seen so much, something in the present would always remind them of the past. As time passed, this was called aging—this was called death.
Wizards, however, rarely died simply because their lifespan had ended. They had many ways to extend their lives. More often, a wizard's death came from carelessness. By the time their life reached its end, their passion for the world had already faded.
Kate seemed to recall her real age as well. She shook her head, her black hair slightly messy as it swayed. With her slender, pale fingers, she tucked it behind her ear.
"Ah—!" she cried out, as if trying to shake off all her fatigue.
When she finished, she even jumped a few times on the spot, as if she had truly released all her exhaustion. In an instant, she became an energetic young girl again. "I'll never stay up late again. Staying up late is the enemy of girls."
"Why? What could possibly trouble you this much?" George asked curiously, wondering what had kept her awake all night.
Kate frowned at him and said casually, "It's because of you."
"Me?" George was startled and subconsciously took a step back. The calm composure he once had vanished, replaced by a whirlwind of thoughts. Is this… a confession?
"It's that ancient spell you gave me. Everything you said turned out to be true. So I spent the whole night trying it—but clearly something's wrong." Kate's eyes were filled with resentment, as if she wanted to hurt him with her gaze. The real culprit behind her sleepless night now felt a bit guilty.
George had told her some information about ancient spells and claimed he had verified it himself. How could a true wizard not be interested in such things? And since it came from George, she believed it wouldn't be wrong.
So the moment she received the materials, she buried herself in studying those ancient spells. But after all that research, not only did she gain nothing—she became even more confused. She stayed up all night and still couldn't find the answer. These ancient spells seemed to have serious flaws, almost impossible to execute. If the information hadn't come from George, she would have thought it was fake.
George said gloomily, "My summer vacation didn't yield much. And you thought you could master an ancient spell overnight? That's overconfidence." He paused, still shaken. What a scare—truly frightening.
"I thought since you said you'd confirmed it, I could understand it right away," Kate admitted, sticking out her tongue awkwardly, realizing she had been too impatient.
This was an ancient spell—a form of power long lost to modern wizards. As a well-read Ravenclaw student, Kate knew more than most. How could she not be fascinated?
Historical records described ancient wizards as possessing astonishing power—far more terrifying than modern ones. They could fly without brooms and cast powerful magic without wands.
Legendary forbidden curses could even summon meteors to destroy cities. They could freeze vast lands, covering thousands of miles in ice and snow, or create mountains and fissures with a wave of the hand.
Faced with such legendary power, it became understandable why Kate hadn't gone mad but had instead fallen into confusion.
Perhaps some wizards no longer believed these records. They only believed what they could see, dismissing such power as myth and legend, while pretending to be ancient wizards themselves.
But Kate knew the truth wasn't like that. The existence of powerful ancient wizards wasn't just recorded in history—it had proof. The former owner of the Philosopher's Stone, Nicolas Flamel, was living evidence. He and his wife had lived for over 650 years.
If they hadn't grown tired of life, they could have continued living. They were living proof of ancient magical power. Yet in the end, they chose death and the destruction of the Philosopher's Stone—a tremendous loss to the wizarding world, marking the disappearance of immense power and knowledge.
Perhaps decades later, when people read online, the legend of Nicolas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone would vanish just like ancient wizards and forbidden spells—existing only in myths. Future wizards might no longer believe in the Philosopher's Stone or that someone could live over 650 years.
"What problem did you encounter while learning the ancient spell? Was it a loss of magical control, or an inability to sense external elements?" George asked, uncertain but deeply interested.
Ancient spells had nearly vanished, so encountering difficulties was only natural. He had never expected restoring them to be easy—if it were, they wouldn't have disappeared.
Since George had shared the information, he had made preparations. In meditation, he knew how to guide others—especially with ancient spells. The spell Kate had received was only the basic framework, and the one they chose had been verified by him as safe and relatively easy to cast.
Kate bit her lip, looking embarrassed. "I don't even know what the problem is—that's the awkward part." As she spoke, she raised her hand and waved it gently.
A book on the table began flipping its pages one by one, her fingers hovering in the air. A cup beside it floated up, swaying gently. The water inside seemed frozen—without a single ripple.
She waved her hand again. The liquid suddenly surged out like a long serpent, twisting and coiling through the air, spinning continuously before finally wrapping around the cup like a living creature.
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