Dawn’s bedroom was large, with all the furniture inside being slightly bigger than usual. Yet because of that, the room somehow felt cramped at first glance.

The most eye-catching thing in the room was a large bookshelf.

Made of cherry wood, it stood by the window with two antique bronze wall lamps hanging on either side. The shelves were packed full of books.

Next to the bookshelf was a desk, where a thick tome about runes lay open. Notes filled the visible pages.

Beside the book, a stack of closed leather notebooks and metal fountain pens were piled up, and in front of them rested a dark-colored wand.

The moment Professor McGonagall entered the room, her eyes immediately landed on the bookshelf.

And then, she simply could not look away.

[Standard Book of Spells]

[A Guide to Transfiguration]

[Ritual Construction Magic]

[Analyze Your Brain: The Art of Occlumency]

[Curses and Countercurses]

[Taboos of Time]

[Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions]

Book after book came into view, a chaotic array exuding the aura of a scholar. McGonagall could feel her eye twitching fiercely.

She had never expected to find so many books in the bedroom of an eleven-year-old wizard who had yet to even start school.

Not only did it include all the required reading for Hogwarts, but there were also plenty of obscure works that most witches and wizards had never even heard of.

Moreover, from her quick observations, nearly every book showed signs of being read.

McGonagall found it hard to believe.

“Child, have you really read all of these books?” she asked.

Dawn nodded. “Most of them.”

Seeing the growing astonishment in McGonagall’s eyes, he explained, “Professor, it’s been five full years since I discovered I was a wizard when I was six.

I don’t think it’s that surprising to have finished these books in five years.”

“No.”

McGonagall shook her head.

With a rare hint of a smile, she said seriously, in a tone full of praise, “Mr. Richter, recognizing the value of knowledge and being willing to dedicate extra time to study… no matter how you look at it, that is an extremely precious quality.”

As someone who had been teaching for over thirty years, McGonagall knew all too well how rare it was for a young wizard to have the patience to study from such an early age.

Even among the most intelligent students in Ravenclaw, children with this kind of character were few and far between.

After all, being smart and having good grades were very different from loving to read.

Take, for example, Gilderoy Lockhart, the bestselling author who graduated from Ravenclaw. He had always preferred attention-grabbing activities over serious reading.

Or Rita Skeeter, the famous gossip reporter for the Daily Prophet, who also graduated from Ravenclaw. She much preferred eavesdropping on others over studying during her free time.

Although it might seem a bit premature, McGonagall at that moment firmly believed that this boy named Dawn Richter would achieve something extraordinary in the future.

She couldn’t help but look forward to it.

Thinking about the homework often turned in by Gryffindors—where even copied answers could be wrong—McGonagall suddenly felt that if this child were sorted into Gryffindor, it would be nothing short of perfect.

But judging by the situation so far, it seemed more likely that Dawn would be sorted into Ravenclaw…

“Wait a moment!”

Just as she was feeling emotional, McGonagall suddenly narrowed her eyes and asked seriously, “Mr. Richter, you haven’t read any books about Dark Magic, have you?”

“Of course not!” Dawn immediately refuted without hesitation.

But looking at that obedient yet slightly aggrieved face, McGonagall couldn’t completely convince herself to believe him.

In her view, a child with such a strong thirst for knowledge, who had spent considerable time in a place as chaotic as the Leaky Cauldron, would naturally be tempted by the Dark Arts.

And in truth…

McGonagall’s suspicions were correct.

Dawn had indeed read several books related to Dark Magic, although they were hidden in other corners of the house.

For example, there was [Human Materials: The Boiling of Blood], a book discussing the uses of human blood in potions, curses, and the cultivation of magical creatures and plants.

It even recorded a dangerous Dark Magic spell—Blood Extraction—which could draw out eighty percent of a person’s blood in an instant, with devastating results.

Interestingly, a simplified version of this spell, called “Pulp Separation,” was still included in the “Magical Cooking Guide” today.

Another book that left a deep impression on Dawn was [Soul Grafting: The Cat That Could Speak].

It read more like a laboratory diary, recording a series of experiments carried out by a witch in the last century who sought to revive her child, who had become a ghost.

One particular potion, the “Ghost Manifestation Elixir,” required the tears of a thestral moments before death. However, its effect was unimpressive, merely turning the drinker’s body milky white and giving them the ability to pass through walls.

Unfortunately, the key sections of the experiments were written in a confusing, almost mad, tone—impossible to understand.

The final recorded result of the experiment was simple:

The soul of the witch’s child disappeared into a cat’s body. The cat could then speak and possessed limited intelligence, but retained none of the child’s original memories.

As for how Dawn had acquired these books, he had secretly commissioned an employee from the Leaky Cauldron to collect them from Knockturn Alley, specifying that he only wanted books deemed “safe.”

Never overestimate the moral standards of adult wizards.

If you paid enough, they would not care whether you were a child or not. And to ensure safe transactions, Dawn had put in considerable effort.

“No news is good news,” McGonagall said after scanning the bookshelf and confirming there were no overly dangerous books. Her expression finally relaxed a little.

For what felt like the umpteenth time that day, she warned him sternly, “Mr. Richter, I must seriously caution you: many Dark Magic spells cause irreversible damage to the soul.

You must be especially cautious, especially at your current age when your self-control is still developing.”

“Of course. I promise,” Dawn answered swiftly, as readily as ever.

He picked up the wand lying on the desk and handed it to McGonagall.

“The wand is made of straight-grain pine wood, which particularly favors those who are individualistic. The core is dragon heartstring, symbolizing cleverness and adaptability, capable of producing unexpected effects.”

Dawn repeated what Ollivander had said when he bought the wand, then pointed at the floor. “The rest of the supplies are stacked over there.”

McGonagall nodded and returned the wand to him.

She then looked at the neatly arranged books and supplies on the floor, waved her own wand, and made them float into the air, carefully sorting through them one by one.

“Very good, you’ve bought everything you need,” McGonagall said, nodding in satisfaction before waving her wand again to put the items back down neatly.

“Remember, on September 1st, go to King’s Cross Station and board the Hogwarts Express from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Make sure you’re not late.”

After reminding him once more, McGonagall prepared to leave. But glancing at the wand in Dawn’s hand, she couldn’t help but turn back and warn again:

“And one more thing! Even though you now have a wand, do not attempt any dangerous magic! At least… wait until after school starts. Understand?”

“Of course,” Dawn replied with his usual straightforward smile.

McGonagall looked at him deeply but said no more.

Although the preliminary introduction for new students was now complete, there was still plenty of work waiting for her before the school year began, so she couldn’t stay long.

The rest would have to wait until Hogwarts.

With a sharp crack, Professor McGonagall disappeared, Apparating away.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep