The next morning, Zhang Ming walked down the spiral staircase from his dorm to find the Ravenclaw common room already packed. A dozen students, their eyes shining with a mix of exhaustion and excitement, practically pounced on him.
"Master Zhang! You're awake!"
"Can we start the Q&A now? Please?"
Zhang Ming blinked. "The scheduled time is 7 to 9 PM. It's 6:30 AM."
"But we can't wait!" pleaded a third-year girl. "What you did in Charms yesterday... wandless, wordless magic... can anyone reallylearn it?"
"In theory, yes," Zhang Ming said, a slow smile spreading across his face. Seeing their fervor, he relented. "Well, since everyone is so eager... we begin now."
A cheer erupted. They quickly formed a circle around his armchair by the fireplace.
"First," Zhang Ming began, steepling his fingers, "you must understand the most fundamental concept. What is the true nature of magic?"
"Is it... using energy?" a student ventured.
"Close, but not precise enough," Zhang Ming nodded. "More accurately, magic is the fusion of 'Information' and 'Energy'."
"Your spells are essentially using specific 'information'—the incantation—to guide 'energy'—your magic—to produce a specific 'effect'."
"The problem is..." he paused for effect, "...your magical education has bound 'spell' and 'effect' together too rigidly. It's like programming a computer using only pre-written code, without understanding the underlying logic."
He saw their confused looks at 'computer' and switched metaphors. "Think of it like cooking from a recipe. The recipe says 'add salt, then sugar,' so you do it mechanically. But if you understand why—the chemical role of salt, how sugar interacts with other flavors—you can create new recipes. You don't even need a recipe."
The students listened, rapt.
"So..." a sharp-eyed fourth-year named Terry Boot summarized, "You're saying we should understand the 'principles' behind the spells, not just memorize the incantations?"
"Exactly!" Zhang Ming's eyes gleamed with approval. "Take Lumos. Do you know its principle?"
"To light the wand tip?" someone said.
"That's the effect, not the principle," Zhang Ming countered. "The true principle is this: you are using the wand to convert your magical energy into visible photons, concentrating them in a small area."
"The wavelength of the photons determines the color; their density determines the brightness."
"If you understand this..."
He raised his right hand. A sphere of pure white light bloomed above his index finger.
"...you can freely adjust the light's color, brightness, even its shape."
The sphere shifted from white to red, then blue, green, and finally split into a swirling constellation of multi-colored motes of light.
Gasps filled the room.
"That's... that's still Lumos?"
"Of course," Zhang Ming smiled. "I simply understand its essence, so I control it freely."
"How? How can we learn this?" Terry asked, voice trembling with excitement.
"Step one: train your 'perception' of magic," Zhang Ming declared, standing up. "I taught Potter and the others the basic 'Internal Vision' technique on the train. If you wish to learn, I will demonstrate now."
The response was unanimous. "Teach us!"
For the next hour, Zhang Ming guided the Ravenclaws through their first systematic "Magical Perception" training. With the subtle aid of his [Enlightenment Talisman], most students successfully felt the flow of magic within them for the first time—a warm, buzzing current, entirely different from the vague feeling of casting a spell.
The common room buzzed with euphoric discoveries.
"Excellent," Zhang Ming said, concluding the session. "Practice this 'Internal Vision' daily. Once you can perceive the flow without assistance, I will teach you step two: guidance and control."
As the excited students finally dispersed for breakfast, Terry Boot lingered, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
"Master Zhang... these theories about the nature of magic... I've never seen them in any book. Did you... develop them yourself?"
"In a way," Zhang Ming said. "Where I come from, they are basic knowledge. But here, there is no systematic theory."
"Then..." Terry took a deep breath. "Would you be willing to compile them into a book? A proper textbook on magical principles could help countless wizards!"
Zhang Ming's eyes lit up. A brilliant idea.
Later, in Transfiguration Class...
Professor McGonagall's classroom was tense with focused silence. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts! Today, you will turn a matchstick into a needle."
Zhang Ming held his matchstick, his mind analyzing with [Myriad Celestial Mechanism].
[Analyzing Transfiguration...]
[Principle: Macroscopic morphological restructuring via magical force. Does NOT alter microscopic structure.]
[Verdict: A 'Form Memory' spell. Crude. Inefficient. Like changing a clay pot's shape without changing the clay itself.]
Interesting,he mused. So different from my 'Material Alchemy'.
He didn't use his wand. Instead, his spiritual sense delved into the matchstick, not just reshaping it, but reforgingit at a molecular level. Wood fibers were disassembled and reconfigured into metallic crystal lattices.
Three seconds later, where a matchstick once was, lay a perfect, genuine silver needle.
Professor McGonagall picked it up, her stern face a mask of shock. "This... this isn't Transfiguration... This is true Transmutation!"
"Indeed, Professor," Zhang Ming said calmly. "Traditional Transfiguration changes form. I changed its essence."
"But... this is impossible!" McGonagall's voice trembled. "Nicolas Flamel spent a lifetime creating the Philosopher's Stone to achieve this! How can you...?"
"By understanding the microscopic structure of matter," he replied. "Everything is composed of elementary particles. Master the laws governing their transformation, and altering a material's nature is not difficult. It simply requires precise energy control and deep understanding."
McGonagall stared at him, seeing not just a student, but a revolution. "Twenty points to Ravenclaw," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I have never seen anything like it. See me after class."
Meanwhile, a Different Kind of Lesson...
In a dusty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, Professor Quirrell stammered through a lesson on Boggarts. Zhang Ming sat in the back, his spiritual sense focused like a laser on the large turban.
[Target Analysis: Professor Quirrell's Turban]
[Scanning...]
[Detection: High-intensity Dark Magic residue. Source: Posterior cranial region.]
[Soul Fragment Signature: Confirmed. 99.7% match with 'Voldemort' signature from Harry Potter's scar.]
[Status: Dormant, but unstable. Parasitic drain on host's life force detected.]
So, the snake is coiled right there,Zhang Ming thought coldly. He watched Quirrell's nervous twitches with a new sense of pity. The man was a living battery, being slowly drained.
After class, Zhang Ming approached. "Professor, I had a question about the Patronus Charm. I heard it's effective against Dementors."
Quirrell jumped. A flicker of something cold and ancient stirred beneath the turban. He's awake. And he's listening.
"P-P-Patronus Ch-arm?" Quirrell stammered. "V-Very advanced... n-not for first-years..."
"Of course, just curious," Zhang Ming smiled politely, while sending an impossibly subtle tendril of spiritual energy—a tracking marker, invisible to any magical detection—towards the parasitic soul. It attached like a ghostly barnacle.
[Tracking Marker successfully deployed on target: 'Voldemort (Fragment)']
[Real-time monitoring active.]
The game was afoot.
That Evening, The Great Hall...
Whispers followed Zhang Ming everywhere. News of his feats in Charms and Transfiguration had spread like fiendfyre. He was no longer just the odd transfer student; he was a phenomenon.
9 PM, Ravenclaw Common Room - The First Official Lecture
The common room was packed. Not just with Ravenclaws, but with curious students from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and even a few brave Slytherins.
"Knowledge knows no house," Zhang Ming announced, silencing the crowd. "But commitment does. This is not a spectacle. Those seeking shortcuts or gossip, please leave."
A handful of students slunk away, red-faced. About forty remained, their expressions serious, their thirst for knowledge genuine.
"Then let us begin," Zhang Ming said. He raised his hand, and complex, three-dimensional energy models shimmered into existence in the air, illustrating the very fabric of magic as he explained it. He spoke of energy channels, spiritual roots (a concept he adapted for their understanding), and the philosophy of viewing magic not as a list of spells, but as a universal language to be understood and rewritten.
For two hours, he held them spellbound. Hermione Granger filled three rolls of parchment with frantic notes. Even the Weasley twins listened with uncharacteristic focus.
As the clock struck nine, Zhang Ming ended the lecture. "Remember, knowledge requires practice. Hone your perception. We will reconvene soon."
As the inspired students finally departed, buzzing with new ideas, Zhang Ming looked out the tower window at the starlit grounds. The spark had been lit. The Ravenclaw Revolution had truly begun. And somewhere in the castle, a piece of the Dark Lord now unknowingly carried his mark.
The pieces were moving on the board.