38

Dana floated up from the bed. He looked at the bright sunshine outside the window, speechless for a moment. A whole night had passed, but why hadn't his body adapted to the magic yet? In his feeling, his total magic power was only three times what it used to be.

He shook his head. He couldn't go out today, let alone go to Muggle territory—the magic power overflowing from his whole body at all times would immediately trigger another warning letter from the Ministry of Magic for underage magic use. He had already been warned once, and this time it was likely to be a court summons.

Dana floated downstairs, took a large loaf of bread from the necklace (stored in separate compartments, completely isolated, with no air circulation!)—he had taken it from Foster's house when he fainted, just in case, and now it came in handy. He found a small knife—although it looked much better than it did two days ago with all the rust removed, it was still obviously an old knife—he was going to cut the bread.

At this moment, there was a knock on the door.

Looking at his feet half a foot off the ground, Dana felt conflicted.

"Dana, are you home?"

It was Professor McGonagall—the person Dyna trusted most since being released from Azkaban. He breathed a sigh of relief and floated toward the door.

"Professor McGonagall? I'll open the door right away!"

The door swung open, and Professor McGonagall looked at Dana, who was as tall as her, a little dazed. Teenagers grew fast, but this was ridiculous. Oh, wait—he was floating.

"Dana, what's wrong with you?"

Dana scratched his head awkwardly. "I think I had a magic surge last night, and then… this happened." He wasn't sure if Professor McGonagall would believe him, but he was determined to stick with this story.

"A magic surge? Are you alright, child?"

Professor McGonagall hurriedly examined him, but apart from the floating, there seemed to be nothing wrong.

"I'm fine, Professor. Maybe I'll adjust in a few days."

Professor McGonagall shook her head, smoothing the corners of her mouth—a habitual gesture when she was worried.

"No, this can't be taken lightly. Young wizards almost never have magic surges after the age of eleven. This is very abnormal. If it isn't guided properly, you could develop an Obscurus!"

Although Obscurials were usually formed in young wizards under the age of ten, and historically, only Dumbledore's nephew had survived past that age, magic always had exceptions.

McGonagall's concern deepened. She took out her wand and cast a Patronus—a silver tabby cat—sending it through the wall. Then she looked inside the house.

"Dana,is this all you're eating?"

Her gaze landed on the loaf of bread, and she immediately looked distressed.

"Didn't I give you money? You should eat properly! You're still growing! Haven't you had enough of eating bread in Azkaban?"

Her tone was a mixture of complaint and concern, but Dana could feel the warmth behind her words.

"Professor, it's just that it's not convenient for me to go out like this—Old Thomson, the owner of the tavern on the corner, can vouch that I had a proper meal last night."

Professor McGonagall nodded, turned to the door, and opened it.

Standing outside was "Mad-Eye" Moody, who had rushed over.

"Minerva, why did you call me over so urgently—Oh, little Dana! What happened to you?"

"Dana had a magic surge. This is highly abnormal. I'm worried he could lose control at any moment, so I don't dare leave him alone—I called you to notify Dumbledore."

Moody nodded and immediately turned, limping away.

"You did the right thing. I'll inform Dumbledore!"

Originally, McGonagall could have contacted Hogwarts through the Floo Network in the fireplace, but since this house had been abandoned for four years, the service had been cut off due to unpaid fees.

Dana still hadn't had breakfast. He picked up the knife to continue cutting the bread but was stopped by McGonagall.

"Don't eat that. It's not nutritious."

With a wave of her wand, mashed potatoes, sausages, fried eggs, and a cup of hot milk appeared on the table.

"This was prepared by the Hogwarts house-elves."

She didn't explain further, but Dana knew she had brought it specifically for him.

Lacking better options, Dana lay flat in the air and started eating—he couldn't sit down, and floating awkwardly was uncomfortable, so he found that reclining at an angle was the best position.

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows twitched, but she simply walked to the first-floor window and opened it.

"This house is old—remember to ventilate it more." She sighed. "If you can't take care of yourself, I won't let you come back next holiday."

Dana could only nod and hum in response.

"Professor McGonagall, why did you come looking for me?"

"I'm worried about you, Dana. You're only eleven, and I doubt you can take care of yourself properly! If I hadn't come, you'd be in real trouble."

Suddenly, a burst of flames appeared in the living room, and a tall wizard in a white robe adorned with purple stars stepped out, a majestic phoenix perched on his shoulder.

It was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the most powerful white wizard of the era.

"Good morning, Minerva," Dumbledore greeted warmly.

"Good morning, Dana."

Although Dana had never spoken to Dumbledore at school, the old wizard addressed him as if they were old acquaintances.

"Hello, Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Headmaster? No, no, no, Dana. Just call me Professor."

"Alright, Professor."

Dumbledore walked closer and examined Dana. The boy continued eating, completely unaffected by the presence of the most famous wizard alive.

Dumbledore stroked his long white beard, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Rare. Very rare. I've never seen anything like this before."

McGonagall frowned. "What should we do now?"

Dumbledore reached out and grasped Dyna's arm.

"His magic is incredibly strong, but it's not enough to create an Obscurus. However, we must help him channel it as soon as possible. If left unchecked, he could still develop instability."

He turned to McGonagall.

"Minerva, we'll take Dana back to Hogwarts. We need to stabilize his magic there."

Back to Hogwarts?

Dana hesitated. He had unfinished plans for the holiday. But then he remembered—he had mastered the Spandim Gate. Maybe he could move freely even while at Hogwarts. If that was the case, this might not be so bad.

"Dana, come back with us," Dumbledore urged.

Dana nodded. "Alright, Professor. Just let me pack my things first."

End of the Chapter.

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