"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Rock raised his wand and cast the Levitation Charm on the feather. The moment the spell succeeded, he shut his eyes. He focused completely on recalling the feeling of the magical ripple he had just produced—trying to convert that sensation into an image inside his mind, imagining it as one of those "threads" he had seen before.
"Not enough."
Still keeping his eyes closed, Rock swung his wand again—this time deliberately slowing down both his chanting and wand movements. With the slower pace, he could feel the magic gathering bit by bit, slowly forming and taking shape. He shut out all sound around him—though the Room of Requirement was already quiet enough.
Again…
Wand swing.
Incantation.
Again…
Rock moved like he was possessed, repeating the charm over and over, lifting the feather again before it even had the chance to fall.
Bang—
A crisp pop echoed, and Rock opened his eyes. The feather had exploded from the surge of magic.
But—
He'd caught it.
Rock's eyes lit up sharply. In the instant the feather burst, he had grasped that golden thread of magic. His mental stamina meter flickered into a fatigued state—he had no idea how many times he'd cast the spell, only that his arm felt sore.
Instead of using deep meditation to replenish his mental meter, Rock cast another spell immediately. His new target was a small wooden ball the Room of Requirement had provided.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
As the incantation left his lips, he saw the magic: flowing from his chest, down his arm, into his wand, then bursting out from the tip. The entire process.
Thump—
The wooden ball hit the floor, snapping Rock out of the inner-vision state.
"Hsss…"
This time, his head felt like it had been smashed by an eighty-pound sledgehammer.
[Successfully maintained full attention on the flow of magic for 5 seconds. Magic Sense proficiency 100/100. Upgraded to Lv.1.]
[Magic Sense Lv.1 (100/299): Can vaguely sense the strength and rough trajectory of one's own magic output.]
Rock collapsed onto the floor. Finally—it worked. Just like Stealth and Deep Reading, Magic Sense was a special skill he had to discover and develop on his own. But the process was not pleasant. He was pretty sure his mental stamina was at a critically exhausted level right now.
He waited until the sharp pain faded before beginning deep meditation to recover. As expected, this meditation session took far longer than any before.
[Mental limit overstressed. Mental resilience tempered. Fundamental enhancement achieved. EXP +80. (This behavior is not recommended.)]
[Mental Stamina Lv.4 (1700/1799)]
"Whew…"
Rock took a slow breath. That unexpected bonus had strengthened his mental meter. But seeing the warning, he figured pushing too far might risk a mental collapse. That hammer-to-the-head sensation had been anything but pleasant.
He resisted the itch to keep going. Sure, he only needed 99 EXP to reach Level 5—but this was enough for today. He wasn't sure he could endure another round.
Leaving the Room of Requirement, Rock made his way down the stairs. When he reached the fourth floor, he froze.
Standing by the staircase was Dumbledore—calmly watching him. Moonlight from a high window reflected off the headmaster's half-moon glasses, turning them into two tiny silver crescents.
Rock stopped mid-step, pinned by that gaze. What now? He was certain he was still under the Disillusionment Charm. And panic breaking the spell? Not happening…
So he lifted his wand, canceled the charm himself, and stepped forward with a small nod. If he'd been caught, better to face it openly.
"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore."
Dumbledore clapped gently, his voice warm with praise.
"A beautifully executed Disillusionment Charm, Rock. At your age, reaching this level is truly remarkable."
"Thank you." Rock blinked, ignoring the compliment. What mattered was why Dumbledore was here. Had he discovered the troll incident? Wouldn't be surprising—Rock's tricks might fool Harry and the others, but never the greatest wizard of the century.
"The castle looks a bit different at night, doesn't it?" Dumbledore said, smiling. "Long ago, I did the same… wandering the halls alone after dark."
"Yes. It's very quiet. Maybe midnight Hogwarts is what the castle is supposed to be like," Rock replied.
"Would you join an old man for a walk?" Dumbledore beckoned him over.
"With pleasure." Rock tucked away his wand and stepped down as the staircase shifted, bringing him to Dumbledore's side.
The headmaster looked him over. "You've changed. Compared to when I saw you at the manor, there's something new about you now."
Rock replied casually, "I've always loved magic."
"Very good. To be honest, I originally thought the Sorting Hat would place you in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor," Dumbledore said warmly. "But now I see—it chose correctly."
"You're a natural Ravenclaw."
That reminded Rock of a question. He asked without thinking:
"Headmaster… was Harry Potter placed in Gryffindor because of you?"
"No," Dumbledore replied immediately, smiling. "The Sorting Hat contains the thoughts and magic of all four founders. Not even the headmaster can interfere with its decisions."
"There is no way to command it. Someone else asked me that same question not long ago, actually."
Rock nodded—not because he fully believed it, but because Dumbledore had no real reason to lie. Someone else asked him recently? Professor McGonagall? Or Snape?
The two walked slowly down the hallway. Oddly enough, Filch was nowhere to be seen—unusual for a night patrol.
"We're here."
Dumbledore stopped in front of an abandoned classroom.
Rock blinked, unsure why they had come here.
Fourth floor…
Abandoned classroom…
Wait—
Wasn't this where the Mirror of Erised was kept?
Dumbledore pushed the door open. In the darkness, illuminated faintly by the hallway light, a large mirror stood inside exactly where Rock had expected it to be.