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Chapter 125: I Hope He Comes Soon
🕑 Added 2025-04-16 11:40:18 +0000 UTCTime passed unnoticed—or at least, that was true for Noah and the others. Their days were packed with endless training and the ceaseless acquisition of knowledge. Under such pressure, time seemed to lose all meaning.
They didn't know how much time they had left… and that uncertainty only made every second feel more precious.
Noah, in particular, felt this most keenly.
Somehow, between regular classes and assignments, he’d ended up serving as a guest lecturer of sorts—for none other than the four deans of Hogwarts, including Professor Dumbledore himself.
He regularly engaged with them, sharing his personal insights into elemental magic—not advanced theories, but the foundational knowledge that underpinned everything. And as with all foundations, it was the most time-consuming to grasp.
This wasn’t talent—it was raw, grind-it-out experience and sheer memorization. The only reason Noah had mastered it so quickly was thanks to the notes of the Ancient One and access to the System Library.
Naturally, he didn’t share those things. Instead, he spoke of his “casting experience,” which was vague enough to be helpful while protecting his secrets.
Yet even that was enough for Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape to benefit. In return, they provided something Noah couldn’t easily find elsewhere: real sparring partners.
Proper sparring partners. Not the kind you conjure in the Room of Requirement who don't understand restraint.
Noah, despite being at a solid order 3 magical level, would often get pummeled when facing someone like Snape—who, unsurprisingly, never held back.
But that didn’t deter him. In fact, when facing real humans, Noah became frighteningly sharp.
Because real people didn’t start by blasting at full force. They fought with control, with intention.
Such sparring gave Noah space to experiment—fierce enough to push his limits, but measured enough to avoid injury.
Still, he never gave up his solo training in the Room of Requirement. His battles with Dumbledore and the others were purely elemental—a clash of spells. The Room of Requirement was different.
That was where life-and-death battles played out. Where he and Kenn pushed each other beyond their limits. Where improvement came through pain and perseverance.
Even when their summoned enemies left them bruised and battered, forcing trips to the Hospital Wing, they returned, again and again. Madam Pomfrey’s scoldings became background noise.
“Time’s flying again—can’t believe it’s the end of the term,” Lance muttered, wincing as he applied ointment to a fresh cut on his arm.
“Time doesn’t matter. Your arm matters, you idiot.” Kenn wrung out a towel and tossed it at him. “You know you’re not a match for those professors, and yet you summon them daily. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“As if you’ve never summoned them,” Lance shot back, face scrunched in pain and frustration.
“At least I don’t go kamikaze like you. The moment I’m down, I surrender. You? You try to sneak-attack even while half-dead.” Kenn rolled her eyes.
His tactics were borrowed from Noah himself. He fought with those professors constantly, and they’d learned to brace themselves because Noah never held back.
Their duels were explosive but brief—Noah always knew when to stop. He wouldn’t waste energy dragging things out or risk injury through pride.
Training was training. Getting yourself seriously injured for no reason was just dumb.
But if you were slow to react? Well, that was your problem. The professors weren’t pulling punches for anyone.
Even Noah—the strongest of them—would get utterly thrashed sometimes.
“Can you two not argue for once?” Hermione snapped, arms full of books. “The faster we get through our exams, the faster we can take the holiday. Don’t you want to help at Noah’s exorcist office this summer? Or do you lack confidence?”
“Exams?” Lance and Kenn chorused, indignant. “If we fail this, we might as well drop out!”
The outburst made everyone laugh. It was true—at this level, failure meant you didn’t belong here. Even Harry and Ron, not exactly the top of the class, were confident for once.
“So, what’s there to worry about?” Hermione sighed. “Don’t you want to cast magic outside of school for a change?”
Noah finally chimed in, his words lighting up their faces.
Professor Dumbledore had submitted Noah’s application to the Ministry of Magic, requesting special permission for the students to engage in supervised fieldwork during the holidays. Naturally, the Ministry rejected it at first.
To them, the idea of underage wizards and exorcists working together was ridiculous—an embarrassment even.
But then Lucius Malfoy intervened.
He suggested letting these “children” suffer outside the safety of Hogwarts. “Let them see how helpless they are without the Ministry’s protection,” he had sneered.
And just like that, the Ministry approved the proposal.
Dumbledore had been stunned. He was sure the application would be denied, but shared the unexpected news with Noah nonetheless.
And, of course, Noah didn’t keep it to himself. Kenn and the others were overjoyed.
To them, summer breaks were dull. Even with the promise of relaxation, they soon found themselves missing school—missing the pursuit of magic and knowledge.
They were magicians through and through.
Still, Noah believed that a break was necessary. Tension without pause led to burnout.
“To be honest, I am looking forward to the holidays,” Evan said, leaning back next to Noah with a grin.
“Same here,” Ernie agreed. Hannah and Justin beside him nodded in excitement.
“Well, we’ve still got exams first. Let’s not embarrass ourselves, alright?” Noah reminded with a smile.
“Don’t worry, boss,” Lance grinned. “Like I said—if we fail this, we deserve to drop out!”
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Far away, under the clear skies of Nepal, the Ancient One sat in quiet contemplation.
Her eyes were closed, but the arcane energy swirling gently around her said otherwise.
In her opinion, Noah’s training methods were quite effective—particularly for beginners.
But for someone of her level, it was far too basic.
So she studied it, broke it down, and extracted its essence. Then, combining it with her own experience, she began refining it into something greater.
The Ancient One’s talent was beyond imagination. In just a year, she developed a superior method—one that centered on enhancing spiritual awareness and refining internal magic.
She had essentially rediscovered—and perfected—meditation.
But not just ordinary meditation. She had taken it further, using her consciousness to perceive and navigate the multiverse itself.
Her soul already had access to those dimensions, and with this method, her strength rose even higher.
Such advancement was rare, nearly impossible at her level. But it had happened.
“This kid really is something else,” she murmured, eyes opening as the magic around her vanished like mist.
She felt the calm strength within her—a refined, sharpened force. Though her expression was serene, her heart was filled with quiet joy.
“I wonder how he’s doing now. Only one year left…”
She sipped from a cup of tea sweetened with honey, letting its warmth soothe her.
A year was a blink to someone like the Ancient One.
She had trained many disciples, but very few had caught her attention the way Noah did.
She remembered their first meeting vividly.
A twelve-year-old boy—already beyond the judgment of ordinary standards, both in talent and comprehension. He wasn’t just gifted; he was a prodigy of the highest order.
Few had ever impressed her that way. One had become the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Another was… locked away.
Even among her disciples, none held a candle to Noah’s potential.
So she watched over him. She was invested in his future.
Suddenly, her eyes narrowed slightly.
With a subtle wave of her hand, space itself fractured before her. The world around her shifted—not physically, but dimensionally.
She remained seated in the same place, yet everything had changed.
“Come in,” she said calmly, still sipping her tea.
A moment later, a tall man in black robes stepped into the chamber. He bowed respectfully, holding a trembling owl that looked thoroughly exhausted.
“Master,” he greeted. “This owl… it belongs Noah. It seems he has something urgent to discuss.”
“Set it down,” the Ancient One said kindly. “That’s Noah’s pet. He must’ve sent a message.”
“Noah Finniel? The junior brother we’ve never met?” the man asked with curiosity.
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Why didn’t he come himself? Does he think Hogwarts is better than Kamar-Taj?”
“Baron Mordo,” she said gently. “He’s still a child. He needs friends. There are no children his age here.”
“…Understood, Master. I hope he visits soon. I’d like to meet him.”
Mordo bowed and left silently, leaving the owl and its message behind.
The Ancient One removed the letter tied to the owl’s leg and unfolded it.
Her smile deepened slightly as her eyes scanned Noah’s handwriting.
She was looking forward to what came next.
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