Hogwarts: Becoming the White Lord from Breathing

Chapter 137 The Invisible Change

The Christmas luncheon started off tensely, but quickly settled into a strangely peaceful atmosphere.

After the thunderous applause, everyone, whether willingly or unwillingly, accepted all the facts that Dumbledore had said—although many of them still did not understand what Master White had actually done, they felt that they did not need to embarrass themselves in such a formal setting, and that they could simply ask him in private.
Fudge was one of them—an Auror quietly approached him and whispered something in his ear, causing his expression to become subtle as he quickly pondered.

Seeing that no one was questioning him anymore, Dumbledore smiled and ended his speech. The unmanned band spontaneously started playing music, and the Great Hall finally had a festive atmosphere.

The banquet began.

The young wizards sat in the school's auditorium with their parents for the first time, sharing their favorite things with them. Some of them barely ate a few bites before pulling their parents to tour the school—although, apart from the Muggle parents, most were more interested in what had just happened.

The adults walked through the auditorium, quietly asking acquaintances what had just happened.
“You really should have learned Transfiguration when you were in school. It’s hard for me to explain to you now—well, it’s like you cast a powerful killing spell without a wand—you understand? If you can achieve this power without a wand, what do you think would happen if you had one?”

"You mean Master White really has the ability to fight Voldemort?"

"It's absolutely true, and think about his age. His magic will grow rapidly in the next few years, do you understand what that means?"

Even if Voldemort had done that when he was young, could he? Think about it, even if Voldemort really did return in a few years, what difference would it make?

Not to mention, Dumbledore is still around, and Master White is constantly getting stronger. So what if it's Mystic? We can rest assured, understand?
Look at Fudge, nodding and sticking his butt out like that. I bet he's going to curry favor with Master White.

More and more people are figuring everything out—although they still don’t quite understand the true value of that Transfiguration technique, just as they don’t understand how fortunate it is that a powerful figure like Dumbledore can speak to them properly within the rules.

This is why they were so surprised when Dumbledore decided to defy Fudge and the Ministry of Magic's orders—this white wizard had kept his claws hidden for so long that many people had come to regard him as a mascot, never considering that wizarding society had always been a place where the strong reigned supreme.

“Master White, this is our first formal meeting, isn’t it?”

"Master White, how was it facing the mysterious man? To be honest, I was so scared I almost peed my pants."

"Master White, what do you think the future of Transfiguration will hold? I would like to invite you to the Transfiguration Association after the holidays. Would you be willing?"

Having shown off his skills in front of everyone, Damon became a hot commodity, with a long line of people looking for him stretching from inside the auditorium all the way outside—Damon wouldn't mind getting to know them before his patience ran out.

A motley crew of people, driven by intense curiosity, approached the young master. Some even offered to introduce their daughters to him, though their approach was less direct.

“My daughter also attends Hogwarts. Although she is in her fourth year, her Transfiguration skills are much worse than yours. At home, she talks to me most about you. Could you help her if you have the chance?”

The man with the goatee called his daughter over. She barely dared to look at Damon and simply buried her face in her father's arms.

"Gemma! Honey, I can't believe it! The junior you were talking about is Master White! Why didn't you say so sooner? You young people could have gotten to know each other better."

Gemma Farley followed behind her uncle, smiling as she stared at Damon, but her eyes were filled with resentment—even for her, seeing Damon was no easy feat.

"Master White, if you'd like, could you teach me Transfiguration when it's nighttime and no one's around?"

A bold young witch subtly extended an invitation, and as they shook hands, she tickled Damon's palm with her fingernail, leaving behind a captivating smile. Dumbledore, standing behind Damon, glanced at him with a half-smile.

"What are you laughing at? If you, as the teacher, weren't so incompetent at keeping things under control, why would we, as a student, need to get involved?"

Damon glanced sideways at Dumbledore.

The old man didn't feel offended at all; on the contrary, his smile became even brighter.

He leaned closer to Damon and whispered:
"It was my fault, and I am sincerely grateful for your help."

"Kacha."

A reporter captured this moment in a photograph, which was later named one of the top 10 most memorable moments of the century by the Ministry of Magic.

The Christmas party lasted from noon until evening.

Many wizards who rarely see each other meet their good friends here. They chat enthusiastically and dance at the ball, while politicians sit in private rooms on the second floor, pondering future trends with somber expressions.

The young wizards had never seen so many wizards gathered together before. They laughed and chatted, discussing where they had seen the one-armed uncle or the Auror whose legs were made of wood.

Muggle parents nervously followed their children—the wondrous things they had never witnessed in their lives happened almost constantly in the Great Hall, and they looked like quails, cowering with curiosity.

When night fell, twelve ghostly horses suddenly emerged from the walls of the underground classroom, each with a headless rider on it.

Everyone attending the party applauded enthusiastically.

The twelve monstrous horses ran to the center of the dance floor, suddenly stopped, first stood upright on their hind legs, then kicked their hind hooves and charged forward.

At the very front of the horse was a large, burly ghost with a thick beard, his head tucked under his arm, blowing a horn.

He jumped off his horse and held his head high in the air so that he could look down at everyone (everyone laughed).

Nick, who was nearly headless, still couldn't join them, but he wasn't so disappointed today—he was now loudly boasting about his previous petrification performance—no one realized he was faking it—although he really had been briefly petrified by Dumbledore back then, but who knows?

After a day of socializing and receiving countless invitations and contact information, Damon grew tired and simply waved his hand, disappearing under the pretext of going to the restroom.

With the real person gone, people's fear of the mysterious figure gradually faded, and Hagrid was exonerated—the Ministry of Magic decided that very night to lift the ban on Hagrid, and he would be allowed to wield a wand again.

Everyone was happy, but amidst the joy, many were filled with sorrow.

The mysterious figure makes a brief return, Master White rises to prominence, and there's also Caliban Mortos within the Ministry of Magic.

Deep down, many wizards sensed that they were undergoing some kind of long transformation. This transformation might not be drastic, and it wouldn't require any painful process, but it would change everything imperceptibly.
Where will the future of the magical world lead?
(End of this chapter)