Under the starlit dome, blue magic fireworks splendidly bloom.
A flock of glowing paper planes form a line and fly over Cho Chang's head; Michael borrowed Vid's magic camera and is taking pictures everywhere; Luna, dressed in a dazzling cake dress, spins and dances by the window, entertaining herself.
Poppet Vid and these overly excited students drink heartily, partying all night long, while Vid himself has quietly returned to the dormitory.
Late at night, Vid sits by the window, hearing the cheers and singing of his classmates.
If one were to fly outside the window now, surely the windows of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Tower would be particularly bright, wouldn't they?
He leans against the window, cold glass pressed against his forehead, as if it could slightly cool his swirling thoughts.
Passing the first event of the league doesn't matter, but Antoine's words have stirred waves in his heart that are indescribable, the more he thinks, the harder it is to calm down.
He has many unrealistic fantasies, but these ideas, even in Ravenclaw where wisdom is revered, might struggle to find resonance.
Vid blinked, the shadows of trees in the Forbidden Forest swaying under the moonlight, like his current mood, silent and surging.
The trampled grassland at the edge of the Forbidden Forest is now empty, leaving only footprints of varying depths.
...
On the way to the competition in the morning, Vid also saw the giant elephant draped in brocade leisurely rolling leaves from shrubs in the morning mist, adorned with some golden decorations, standing out in the sunlight.
But all three champions from Mando School were defeated, just now in the lounge, Vid heard a few Ravenclaws saying that the dark-skinned Professor Sunil didn't even wait for dinner, hurriedly leaving with his students.
"He said he can't stand the Scottish Highlands' ghastly weather!" Fifth-year Marietta said with pride and a hint of satire: "They even find casting the Warmth Spell on their elephants too bothersome!"
"What else to say?" Another girl leaned in, laughing: "Are they supposed to say—it's too embarrassing, so we don't want to stay?"
Several people laughed heartily, their silver teaspoons clinking against porcelain plates.
Not only Mando, but after dinner, it was heard that the colorful magic train from Castelobruxo puffed pale blue steam and slowly departed;
Come curfew time, Akadim's flying carpet skimmed across the Black Lake surface, drawing the Giant Squid to emerge from the lake, its enormous eyes on the side of its head staring blankly at the sky, appearing foolish.
Of the schools remaining, apart from Hogwarts, each has a champion who could ultimately compete in the second event.
"Luckily you decided to participate eventually." Michael secretly told Vid: "Otherwise, with just two or three schools left, Minister Fudge would definitely be driven mad."
"What harm would that do?" Vid murmured back.
Michael thought for a while before saying: "Doesn't seem to be any... maybe having a fool in the position of Minister of Ministry of Magic might be better."
...
Vid withdrew his gaze from the window, completely without sleepiness, his eyes wandering between the ink screen and quill for a moment, before taking a deep breath, spreading the parchment on the desk, beckoning with his hand, a dark blue quill flew to his fingers.
The tip wrote the opening—
[To Delaine:]
Gunter Delaine is Grindelwald's right hand. Writing a letter to him was no different than writing to Grindelwald himself.
Of course, Vid was careful never to sign his name or use his familiar handwriting. The quill was enchanted, writing in typical printed text, elegant and smooth, without any personal characteristics.
Although in the past the Witch Pure Party's tactics chilled the spine—even now their ruthless nature remains very prominent—Vid had to admit that in the Magic World, where tradition and prejudice have built high walls, only the Witch Pure Party are still trying to shake some of the rotten, stubborn things.
Some of Vid's ideas might only be understood and implemented by them.
[To Delaine:
The first event of the competition has ended, presumably you've witnessed everything through the Flow Mirror, so I won't elaborate here. However, the champion's level from other schools is unbelievably poor, and much of the competition's interest is lost.
Antoine suggested compiling the Magic Spell Study Group's teaching methods into a book; I wonder if this is under Mr. Grindelwald's guidance? Will improving the way magic spells are learned allow more outstanding wizards to emerge en masse? How much can the power of words truly change?
As far as I know, the curriculum taught at Hogwarts hasn't changed much in over a century, and the whole Magic World exudes an air of antiquity. Apart from the Hogwarts Express, everything about clothing, food, and shelter likely hasn't changed much from several hundred years ago.
Compared to the ever-changing Muggle society, everything here seems locked in a medieval time zone.
So I understand your mention last time of opinions on the revision of the International Confidentiality Law; we all see the fear of knowledgeable people toward Muggle society, yet rough methods are not advisable, abruptly changing the Confidentiality Law is absolutely not beneficial for the Magic World either.
Perhaps my thoughts seem too moderate to you, but I believe real reform is not about overthrowing a few articles of law, nor about changing the mindsets of upper-level vested interests, but starting from the most subtle changes.
For instance, why not develop some practical products that address common pain points in Muggle society without causing controversy?
Many issues that seem trivial to us actually bring great trouble to many Muggles.
Like—they hate obesity, yet lack the will to lose weight, while we have diet magic potions;
They want beauty, and we have beauty potions and Soft Light Badges;
They yearn for smooth skin, wish for soft and dense hair, hope for items that don't require repeated cleaning, cannot heal quickly when injured...
And all these problems, we only need one or two magic spells or magic potions.
Of course, since magic's existence cannot yet be revealed, magic spells are best avoided, and magic potions need to be modified to a degree Muggle can consume.
By diluting the effect of magic potions dozens or hundreds of times, to Muggles it's merely "useful medicine", not suspicious, nor likely to violate the Confidentiality Laws.
Delaine, if we can use a bit of magic to solve those problems, perhaps when the Magic World inevitably reveals itself, such "small changes" would foster friendly exchanges, making most Muggles accept and idolize wizards rather than the hostility and persecution of the past.
Of course, I know my ideas may be immature, but I believe that doing so will surely be more useful than Cruciatus Curse, death, and slaughter, do you think?
Looking forward to your reply.]