"This spell is called the Wizards Hand," Howl slowly said, rummaging through his desk until he found a few parchment manuscripts.
"Wizards Hand?" Harry murmured.
"That's right. It creates a ghostly hand that can help the caster manipulate objects and interact with them."
As he spoke, a slightly transparent, glowing blue hand appeared before Harry's eyes. The hand was extremely flexible, lightly tapping on the bookshelf before pulling out a book.
"It's a basic spell. Many beginner Wizards choose it as their first spell to learn," Howl explained.
"Could you briefly explain this spell from the perspective of casting?" As he spoke, the glowing blue Wizards Hand floated in front of Harry.
Harry thought for a moment, then shook hands with the Wizards Hand.
This glowing blue hand interacted with reality, taking on a tangible form, and felt somewhat cold to the touch.
"Shape, color, and... reality interaction!" Harry said, his eyes growing brighter as he mumbled, "No... that's not right. The core is interfering with reality, interacting with the real world!
From a casting logic perspective, neither the hand's shape nor its color is anything more than a framework designed to better help the Wizard influence reality!"
After speaking, Harry looked up, somewhat nervously, at Howl.
"Interesting. What you said is basically correct. The fundamental logic of the Wizards Hand is to interfere with reality."
As he spoke, the Wizards Hand in front of Harry began to twist and squirm, changing its form.
"Whether it's the shape or the color, it's just a framework for an abstract concept, making it easier for beginners to anchor to reality."
Harry watched in amazement as the Wizards Hand in front of him transformed like playdough, turning into a knife, then a sword, then a rope.
"At this stage, the Wizards Hand can already be used as an offensive spell. Especially after we discard its color, it's even more likely to achieve surprising effects."
As he spoke, the constantly changing Wizards Hand in front of Harry gradually became transparent, but immediately afterward, he felt a slight stinging sensation in his forearm.
Upon closer inspection, a patch of skin on his forearm seemed to be constantly pricked by an invisible small knife.
Harry suddenly didn't dare to imagine how terrifying it would be to suddenly attack someone like that, out of the blue.
"So that's how it is!" He nodded.
Howl nodded, "An unranked Wizard treats the Wizards Hand as a functional magic; an excellent Wizard treats it as a combat magic that can achieve surprising effects.
But, do you remember what I said at the beginning?"
"This magic is used for brain development," Harry immediately replied.
"Correct answer!" Howl snapped his fingers and said with satisfaction, "Once this magic is freed from the shackles of color and shape, the demand on our mind's coordination ability will rapidly increase.
Therefore, for top-tier Wizards, the Wizards Hand is a rare spell for training one's brain!
Learn this spell before your birthday. Before school starts, operate two or more Wizards Hands to work simultaneously.
Any questions?"
Harry nodded, full of morale, "No problem."
His birthday was still a week away. Although time was tight, Harry felt that this was not an impossible task.
"Very good, very spirited!" Howl praised, "And these two books on Ancient Runes are also your homework for this holiday."
"Ah?!" Harry stared blankly as the two thick books floated towards him, and he dazedly caught them.
"Keep up the good work!" Howl said with a smile, then placed the two parchment papers he had just found on top of the books Harry was holding:
"These are the casting methods and ideas for the Wizards Hand. You can ask me if you don't understand anything."
...
A week passed quickly. This week was one of the few times Harry had been so exhausted since entering Moonlight Fortress.
Unlike previous exhaustion, the Wizards Hand magic almost always pushed him to his casting limit every day, even making his entire spirit and energy drop a few points.
However, after a week of torment, he finally became proficient in this magic.
He was now able to materialize a small blue hand to help him pick up things that weren't too heavy.
But he still couldn't use the Wizards Hand for precise actions like writing.
When he tried to conjure two hands, the magic would always collapse in succession.
And Harry had seen with his own eyes how Uncle Howl simply sat on the sofa, with dozens of Wizards Hands simultaneously performing writing tasks for different subjects.
The precision of the spell, information processing ability, and magic manipulation that this represented almost suffocated Harry.
Too terrifying!
One morning, after finishing breakfast and tidying up the dining table, Harry was about to go to an empty room on the second floor to do his physical exercises when he was suddenly called by Howl.
"Harry, go change your clothes. Don't practice today. We have guests," Howl said.
"Guests? Are they your friends, Uncle Howl?" Harry was a bit surprised. He had been here for so long, but he had never seen any guests come to visit.
"No, I... don't have many friends here," Howl shook his head.
Just then, there was a loud banging on the door.
Harry frowned, thinking to himself, "So, it's an unwelcome guest!"
With that, he went and opened the door.
A colossal figure stood outside the house. His enormous bushy beard and a face full of rough flesh made the person outside look incredibly intimidating.
Harry was startled at once, quickly stepping back, his breathing becoming heavy.
This figure was simply too massive, exuding an imposing presence.
He watched the person outside warily, his hand already at his waist, gripping the hilt of the blue steel longsword in his pouch.
Then, under Harry's watchful gaze, the tall figure tried his best to curve his eyebrows and put on a kind expression: "Oh, hello. I am Rubeus Hagrid. From Hogwarts... uh, the groundskeeper responsible for taking Harry to Diagon Alley."
With that, he suddenly changed the subject: "Are you Harry?!"
"Harry, no need to be so wary. He's from Hogwarts," Howl finally moved his backside off the red sofa and said, "Please invite him in to sit down."
At this moment, Hagrid also noticed the figure inside the house. He asked loudly in confusion, "Dursley?! Are you Dursley??"
Howl opened his mouth, glanced at Harry, then at Hagrid.
This man... isn't he faking it?
Well, Howl had to admit, Hagrid's words had silenced him.
Howl waved his hand, "I told you Dumbledore was getting senile, didn't he mention me to you?!"
"Hey! Don't talk about Dumbledore like that!" Hagrid suddenly bristled, clearly very angry, but the next moment, he suddenly remembered.
Dumbledore had told him that Harry Potter was currently with a very powerful Wizard.
"You're the Wizard Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned?" Hagrid reacted this time, then said seriously,
"Dumbledore isn't senile, I just forgot!"
Howl listened to this, stunned for a while, carefully scrutinized Hagrid up and down, then helplessly said, "Alright, Dumbledore isn't senile, it's all your problem."
"That's right! Don't say such excessive things anymore!" Hagrid was very serious.