"Actually, mastering magic is very simple. You just need to find the trajectory of the magic flow and the magic barriers that impact your body during successive magic riots," Howl said, leading Harry to the underground.
This was Harry's first time seeing the underground of Moonlight Fortress, and it wasn't as special as he imagined. The old wooden floor sometimes creaked when he stepped on it. In the hallway, there were wine bottles from who knows how many years ago, or just piles of clutter.
Howl calmly said, "You can't expect me to have too much time to tidy up an entire Castle."
Harry looked embarrassed. Uncle Howl, don't you think it's a bit late for this explanation?
He had already seen how messy this Castle was during this past week!
The underground of the Castle had wider corridors than above ground, and the distance between rooms was also greater.
Oil lamps flickered in the corridor, their orange-red flames and the darkness constantly intertwining, dancing an unending dance.
Arriving at a room called the Potion Room, Harry pushed open the heavy door and saw a room filled with various glass instruments, cauldrons, and scales.
To the left and right of the room, besides various alchemy equipment, there were also various piles of herbal ingredients, or eyeballs, animal corpses, and pickled cucumbers stored in jars.
Pickled cucumbers?!
Howl paid no attention to Harry's gaze, instead taking out numerous medicinal herbs from the cabinet.
"You have already learned to prepare Energy Potion and have mature Potion experience," Howl said. "Next, I will teach you Exhilaration Potion."
This Potion came from Rage Potion, a battle Potion that can greatly boil magic and increase casting effectiveness.
Of course, Exhilaration Potion doesn't have such a strong effect. It merely raises the Wizard's emotional peak and makes their magic agitated.
It has a miraculous effect for stimulating Little Wizards.
After explaining the logic between the Potion and magic training, Howl began preparing the Potion.
"I will only do it once; you must watch carefully. Before you independently master your magic, all Potions must be made by you; I will not help you.
If you make a mistake, causing an explosion, corrosion, or consequences like diarrhea or intestinal perforation… I will do my best to ensure you don't die!"
Harry felt cold sweat pour down, nodding repeatedly. He stared at Howl making the Potion without a word, trying to engrave every preparation method, proportion, and processing time into his mind.
An hour later, a pool of crimson liquid appeared in the cauldron. Howl poured it out, then gave Harry time for follow-up questions.
After another ten minutes or so, this introductory Potion Class finally ended.
Outside the Castle, Howl set up a dummy on the lawn and said, "If you don't have a target for a magic burst, aim for it. You can imagine him as anyone, Dudley, or your aunt and uncle, or anyone else you dislike at school."
Harry held the small bottle containing the red Exhilaration Potion, feeling a bit nervous, his feet constantly tapping in place on the grass.
Howl didn't say much when he saw this. Many things don't need too much instruction; saying more is useless. Everyone gets nervous the first time.
After watching Harry drink the Potion, he returned to Moonlight Fortress and began reading the book he bought from Diagon Alley.
The red sofa had already become his shape; lying in it, the leather would be a bit cold at first, but after a while, he would feel completely immersed.
Lucifer added firewood to make the fire burn hotter, and soon the flames began to fluctuate up and down, which was his unique "sleeping posture."
Without choosing advanced spell books, nor looking at the seemingly unique Transfiguration, Howl first opened "A History of Modern magic" by Bagshot.
He used to like powerful spells and novel magic, but now, he prefers to first find the development Context in the History of Magic before conducting corresponding and orderly magic research.
Learning from history, learning from the ancients…
Unlike the warmth inside the Castle, even in summer, the Scandinavian Mountains could be somewhat bone-chilling, especially on the peaks.
However, Harry didn't care about the cold wind; he only felt his blood rushing and his mind in a chaotic state.
It was like Dudley throwing a tantrum after not getting enough sleep.
Should…
"Hey—"
Harry stood three or four meters from the dummy, hands forward, grunting, imagining wanting to blast the dummy away through the air.
"Ha—"
Harry exerted force once more.
The mountain wind blew a few blades of grass past Harry's eyes; the dummy was still the same dummy, and he was still himself.
No change at all.
"No, no…" Harry scratched his hair, a bit annoyed, "No!! That's not right!!!"
So annoying—
He felt extremely irritable right now, but he couldn't find an outlet for his emotions, like an overinflated balloon swaying precariously in the air.
After being anxious for a while, Harry suddenly looked up at the dummy's face, trying to imagine it as Dudley's face.
However, no matter how much he told himself Dudley was right in front of him, it was useless.
Where would such a thin Dudley come from?!
Whether it was the Dursleys family or anyone who bullied him at school.
The disgust, anger, and even extreme hatred were pretty much gone.
Over the past week, the Dursleys family had treated him as air; he hadn't been bullied, so there was no hatred left.
A child's heart doesn't have so many thoughts filled with desire; even if he wanted to hate, he couldn't.
Harry stared intently at the dummy's face. This dummy was no different from the mannequins used to display clothes in a mall, except it had no facial features…
Somehow, perhaps due to the Potion, or other influences, a face suddenly appeared before Harry, overlapping with the dummy.
At the same time, the scar on his forehead began to burn, causing his features to twist involuntarily.
Scenes of flickering green light began to flash before his eyes, a grinning, noseless, hairless figure intertwining with the dummy in front of him…
The pain in his forehead, his already agitated thoughts, the constantly flashing light before his eyes, the screams in his ears, and the sinister, cold, low laughter continuously filled his mind…
Accompanied by Harry's angry roar, a surge of power suddenly erupted from him.
With a loud bang, the dummy suddenly flew backward as if hit by a truck, crashing into a rock behind it, then tumbling askew until it hit a huge redwood tree and stopped.
Harry was half-bent, clutching the scar on his forehead.
At this moment, Harry remembered the scene a week ago when Uncle Howl was attacked.
Exactly the same…
"Something's wrong, maybe I should ask Uncle Howl…" Harry mumbled, forcing himself up. The mountain wind blew, giving him a refreshing feeling as he was drenched in sweat.
Inside, Howl had just finished reading the book's table of contents and synopsis and hadn't even opened the first chapter when he saw Harry open the door and walk in.
"Uncle Howl, I have some questions," Harry said eagerly.
Howl nodded, looking at Harry: "What questions?"
"I want to understand myself," Harry said, then felt his expression was a bit problematic: "My scar, it's a bit off.
I… my scar suddenly hurt terribly just now, and then I saw a figure casting magic with a wand, trying to attack me, and a woman jumped in front to block the magic, turning into…"
For some reason, the more Harry spoke, the more his heart pounded.
He took a deep breath, remembered what Uncle Howl had said about not showing emotions on his face, and then, as calmly as possible, said:
"I feel like that woman was my mother."