Hogwarts: I'm Harry's older cousin

Chapter 237, Section 235: Igniting the Light of Hope in the Hearts of the Squips

A small window remained open in the center of the main gate, revealing a pair of eyes.

It's still the same as it was a few years ago.

"magic"

As Dudley gave the command, the door was opened once again.

The familiar, unpleasant smell was still there, quite similar to the stench emanating from the giant.

Upon seeing Dali's familiar attire, the servants inside the door froze, then excitedly shouted, calling out to their companions inside.

Soon, the person in charge of the deal, who was the one who had been in the wrong place, rushed out of the room in a hurry to greet Dali.

"Dear Mr. Gargamel, it has been a long time since you last visited us."

The tone was humble and the attitude was respectful.

"Is there a problem with the magical materials?"

After entering Hogwarts, Dudley's need for potion ingredients decreased significantly, so he traded with the Squibs much less often.

After all, Dudley could get most things himself, so there was no need to resell them. Dudley was rich, but he didn't get his money easily.

However, this also deprived the Squibs of a valuable source of income.

It's really not easy for duds to make money, and their means of doing so are even more limited.

It has been almost half a year since Dali last contacted them.

Dudley didn't rush to answer him. Instead, he stretched out his hand and snapped his fingers, instantly clearing away the polluted air around him.

The subtle display of skill immediately stunned the group of duds.

Casting spells without a staff is something only a very few powerful wizards can do.

It turns out that Gargamel was a powerful wizard.

"There are no problems with the materials."

Upon hearing Dudley's words, the Squibs around him visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

A powerful wizard is not someone they, a bunch of Squibs, can afford to offend.

If it were a dark wizard, the opponent could kill them all without any difficulty with just one spell.

"The reason I don't come here often is because I don't need that many materials anymore."

Dudley's next words chilled the Squirrels to the bone.

As the customer with the largest demand for potion ingredients, and because of his generous spending, Dudley's appearance has greatly improved the already impoverished lives of these Squibs. It can be said that Dudley is their bread and butter.

If he no longer needs potion ingredients

This is not just as simple as losing a major client.

No one wants to go back to the days when they were starving, but they have no way to deal with the fact that the enemy is someone they can't afford to offend.

"That's truly...a great pity, esteemed Mr. Gargamel."

Even if you are extremely unwilling, you can only passively accept this situation.

The survival rules for the Squibs were set from the very beginning.

The dregs of the wizarding world, the outcasts of the ordinary world, are intolerable to both sides.

Unable to integrate into the wizarding world, and unable to live in the ordinary world, they can only survive in the cracks.

"Although we don't need you to provide the materials, I think there's still a possibility of cooperation. That's the second thing I'm here to do."

Dudley pulled out a small wooden stick and placed it in front of the Squibs, saying to the leader, "Take this and cast the spell."

The lead dud shook his head with a wry smile.

"Sir, I am a Squib; I have no way to cast any magic."

He used to long to unleash even half a spell, but while his peers went to school, he remained at home, showing no signs of life. He could neither cast magic nor experience any magical outbursts, remaining as ordinary as a Muggle.

His parents argued about this more than once, and eventually both left home.

He could only stay alone in bed, hypnotically reassuring himself that he was just a late bloomer and would become a wizard sooner or later.

Year after year, he grew from a clueless child into an adult.

Reality slapped him hard in the face; he wasn't just a late bloomer, he was simply incapable of maturing at all.

Now, so many years later, he has long since let go and accepted the identity of the dud.

"I said, 'Take it and cast the spell,' and I don't want to repeat myself a third time."

Faced with someone capable of casting spells without a staff, these Squibs couldn't muster even the slightest thought of resistance.

Helpless, the leader of the duds smiled wryly, picked up the small wooden stick, casually pointed to the wall next to him, and said very perfunctorily, "Clear spring water."

This is the most basic spell, and also the simplest and most intuitive spell.

If it were the old him, he might still have a sliver of hope, but now he is completely numb.

Failure after failure, disappointment after disappointment, and nothing gained time and time again.

Squibs cannot cast spells; that's an ironclad rule.

This was his fate.

"Sir, is it really impossible?!?"

However, the next second, he almost bit off his own tongue.

A miracle happened.

A thin stream of water shot from the tip of the wand, tracing an arc in the air before striking the wall and wetting its outer edge. Although the stream was very thin, only about the size of a water gun nozzle, it was undeniably released.

"You, me, it, how could this be?!"

The Squirrel in the lead was greatly shocked. He pointed at Dudley, then at himself, then at the wand, and stammered for a long time, unable to utter a complete sentence.

"Did I cast a spell?"

Magic, it really is magic!

Not only the lead Squib, but the Squibs around it almost popped their eyes out.

"What happened? Cullivan (the name of the leader of the Squibs) has become a wizard?"

"No, if he were a wizard, he would have been attending magic school long ago."

"He's still a Squib, just like us."

Everyone turned their attention to the small, stick-like wand in Cullivan's hand.

His breathing became increasingly heavy.

Having spent so many years struggling at the bottom of society, they immediately guessed that the ability to cast magic must be related to this wand.

This special wand allows them to cast spells.

At least Curios can use it to cast spells.

"Curevo, try something else!"

An impatient voice rang out from the crowd.

Once could be considered a coincidence, but what about twice?

If two times is a coincidence, what about three times?

Cullivan stopped being perfunctory and stood up straight, waving his wand with perfect movements and word order.

"Fluorescent lights!"

The standardization of actions and the precision of language cannot be achieved without countless hours of practice.

Even the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic probably don't meet his standards.

The duds present all stared intently at his movements, holding their breath in tension, not daring to utter a single sound.

The facts did not disappoint the Squibs.

The tip of Cullivan's wand emitted a faint light once more.

Although the light was faint, it ignited a glimmer of hope in the hearts of the duds.

If it weren't for the Squib, they would never know how impoverished the lives of these lower-class wizards were.

(End of this chapter)