Chapter 70: Memory
Chapter 70: Memory
Finally, the semester came to an end, and the young wizards lined up to board the train home, leaving Hogwarts nearly empty.
A silence as profound as a snow-covered morning enveloped the entire castle.
Felix walked through the castle, occasionally encountering a young wizard, but he didn't find it dull at all. Instead, he felt a sense of tranquility.
Near the frozen Black Lake, he found a secluded spot, conjured a rocking chair with magic, and settled into it comfortably. With a snap of his fingers, a bright blue flame floated above his head.
Felix took a book from his ring and began to read with keen interest.
In his hands was The Ravenclaw Manuscript (Volume II), a compilation of Rowena Ravenclaw's notes, organized into twelve volumes by her descendants.
Volume II contained Ravenclaw's daily musings, which didn't delve into specific magical knowledge. To Felix, it seemed filled with poetic, enigmatic ramblings.
He casually picked out a passage—
The stone turned into a bird, chirping merrily. It crossed mountains and lakes, bringing back a daisy from the red plains.
Felix: "..." He found it hard to understand Rowena Ravenclaw's state of mind at the time.
Felix assumed that Ravenclaw, having received a noble lady's education in her youth, had a deep appreciation for poetry.
But were there any famous poets in that era?
Felix scratched his head. He knew that Hogwarts' four founders were active during the Middle Ages, but it seemed that the poetry of that period was mostly religious hymns.
He continued reading—
The river told me, Creator, you granted me thought but not form. One day, I will merge with the ocean.
Felix: "..."
Upon closer reflection, it did have a certain depth and mystery.
He decided not to waste too much energy deciphering the profound meanings and instead skimmed through the text quickly. In less than half an hour, he reached the end.
"Tsk!" Felix clicked his tongue, unsure what to say.
Was it really necessary to have a certain level of literary appreciation to study magic?
He lay back in the chair, gazing at the ice-covered lake in the distance, recalling the knowledge he had gained from the diary. With his discerning eye, he could easily identify which parts were most useful. Despite the diary's attempts to mislead and convey false information, it was, after all, the work of a young, inexperienced Dark Lord who was still in school.
In this regard, Voldemort and his former self were somewhat alike. Both had used "external forces" to forcibly enhance specific skills, far surpassing their peers.
But in terms of understanding and insight into magic, they were both still quite shallow.
If you hadn't reached a certain height, you wouldn't have the corresponding insights.
Felix felt a deep resonance. Most wizards spent their entire lives learning magic from others without making any improvements. It wasn't that they didn't want to, but they couldn't.
"Wait, I think I've got it." Felix sat up abruptly. "Bird, river, Creator, magic, consciousness..."
Felix quickly opened The Ravenclaw Manuscript (Volume II) and flipped to a certain page. He read the familiar words—
"The stone turned into a bird, chirping merrily. It crossed mountains and lakes, bringing back a daisy from the red plains."
If this little poem was seen as a true record of Ravenclaw's experiences, could it make sense?
The first sentence is undoubtedly about transfiguration. Perhaps Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, in a moment of inspiration, turned a stone into a beautiful little bird.
What does the second sentence say?
Did Ravenclaw use magic to make it sing? Felix shook his head. Considering the content of the following sentences, this legendary bird clearly flew a considerable distance and brought back a daisy.
That's not something transfiguration alone can achieve.
Perhaps, Ravenclaw imbued it with some kind of "quality" — like life, a soul, or something similar — allowing it to maintain a certain degree of autonomy even when it was out of the spell's range.
He suddenly recalled a part of his conversation with the Sorting Hat that day —
"Sorting Hat, do you remember how you came to be?" Felix asked in his mind.
"Of course, oh, I remember it vividly", it replied cleverly, and then the dirty, tattered hat began to sing in his mind.
"It was over a thousand years ago,
When I was first woven and made.
Four famous wizards,
Vowed to nurture young minds.
These four great wizards,
Each valued different talents and ideas.
It was Gryffindor who had the idea—
He took me from his head.
The four founders imbued me with their thoughts,
And I have been sorting and judging ever since!"
...
After the Sorting Hat received the thoughts of the four founders, it almost became an independent living entity.
How similar to the bird that flew over mountains and lakes and brought back a daisy!
What was the key? Autonomy. Both the Sorting Hat and the bird exhibited strong autonomy, behaving like true life forms, capable of making decisions and performing complex actions even when outside the range of magic.
How could such autonomy be achieved through magic?
Setting aside the concepts of "life" and "soul", which were beyond his grasp, Felix quickly thought of a method he could implement — infusing memory.
He had gained this knowledge from the diary.
Felix waved his wand, making a palm-sized pebble fly to him. He then gently tapped the stone with his wand, and it quickly transformed into a delicate, small swift.
But upon closer inspection, the swift's eyes were lifeless, like those of a puppet, requiring guidance from his wand for every movement.
Next, Felix simulated a short segment of "memory" in his mind. He touched his wand to his forehead, drawing out a thin, silvery, shimmering thread.
Felix integrated this false memory into the swift's body, using the knowledge from the diary to combine the two.
He simplified this process as much as possible, just to test his idea.
Under his watchful gaze, the swift's eyes became lively. Without his control, it flapped its wings and took off, albeit wobbling as it flew.
But in the next second, it crashed into the snow, its legs twitching.
Felix pulled it out of the snow, and the swift hopped and stumbled through the snow, moving like a sparrow searching for food in the snow — this was due to the poor quality of the memory he had constructed.
But he stared intently at the little creature.
About two or three minutes later, wisps of silvery mist began to seep out of the swift's body — the fabricated memory was dissipating.
It reverted to its lifeless state.
Felix waved his wand, turning it back into a pebble, and fell into deep thought.
(End of Chapter)
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