6 Chapter 6
"The textbooks in the wizarding world are absolute shit!"
Mike threw the book he was holding with frustration after his 200th failed attempt at casting the Petrification Spell.
Over the past few days, Mike had devoted all his time to studying the first-year Hogwarts textbooks. Though they were used books donated by older students, Mike's luck held true as usual, with all the books being complete in terms of pages.
The range of spells a first-year wizard could learn was limited, and Mike was particularly keen on mastering the Petrification Spell, which could instantly render a target defenseless, with sufficient magical skill potentially leading to actual petrification.
However, Mike's aspirations proved overly ambitious. Merely reading the books wasn't enough to learn the spell, not due to a lack of magical talent, but because the textbooks were so poorly written.
The textbooks were vague, using terms like "a few" and "some amount." Yet, magic necessitates accurate and rapid movements and spells. How could anyone know exactly how much to elevate the pitch of their voice when casting a spell?
Faced with no other choice, Mike decided to seek advice from the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron.
"Get lost, Mudblood! Go back to your mud pit!" a drunken wizard slurred at Mike, who had approached him. "It's because of you Mudbloods that the wizarding world is in such a mess!"
Enraged, Mike marched forward and knocked the wizard's drink from his hand.
"What did you say? Say that again if you dare!"
Caught off guard by Mike's daring move, the wizard, his hand still damp from the spilled drink, shoved Mike to the floor with one hand and swiftly pulled out his wand with the other, pointing it directly at Mike.
"You dirty Mudblood! How dare you show disrespect to a noble pure-blood wizard! Levicorpus!"
Mike suddenly felt a force pulling on his trousers, hanging him upside down. The force was too much for his belt, which snapped with a "pop."
In an instant, Mike's trousers were yanked down, revealing his red underwear.
The entire pub burst into laughter at Mike's humiliation.
Amidst the roaring laughter of the crowd, Mike felt a surge of unprecedented anger threatening to overwhelm his reason. With a loud roar, a shockwave burst forth from Mike, spreading outwards in all directions.
With a thunderous crash, the Leaky Cauldron was left in disarray, and the furniture around Mike was shattered to pieces. The wizard who had cursed him earlier was embedded in the counter, unharmed, thanks to a protective armor spell cast by Tom, the bar's owner, just in time.
"How dare you do this!" Tom stormed out from behind the counter, furious. "Take your trash and get out of my pub! Now! You're not welcome here!"
Mike understood Tom was looking out for him, knowing staying would only bring the Ministry of Magic down on him, but he still felt indignant.
He glared coldly at the wizard stuck in the counter, memorizing his face before silently leaving the Leaky Cauldron in haste.
After Mike's departure, Tom instructed his staff to throw Mike's luggage out and then knelt to check on the pure-blood wizard's condition.
Mike lingered close by, concealed near the entrance of the pub, anticipating someone's exit.
The sting of such disgrace was unbearable!
His unleashed shockwave had irreparably ruined the pub's fireplace, a simple repair spell inadequate for the task. Consequently, that evening, the patrons were forced to seek alternative fireplaces within Diagon Alley or rely on apparition for departure. Observing the wizard's attempt to stand, it was clear to Mike that his inebriation prevented any sophisticated spellcasting.
As time wore on, the pure-blood wizard remained, loudly bragging about his encounters with Muggle-borns and uttering offensive comments about witches of Muggle descent. Eventually, with the closing of the pub, the wizard staggered out into the night.
Mike followed him from the shadows.
Appearing too intoxicated to effectively cast spells, the wizard didn't bother finding another fireplace. Instead, he wandered aimlessly through Diagon Alley before finally succumbing to sleep in front of an old shop.
He never woke up again. Seizing the opportunity while still empowered by his magical outburst, Mike bound him to a large stone and tossed him into the river beside Diagon Alley.
"Pure-blood? Hah." Mike casually flung a coin pouch he had found on the wizard, two wands now quietly resting in his pocket.
Being expelled from the Leaky Cauldron hardly affected Mike; he found accommodation that night in a nearby inn willing to host him. Now with the pure-blood wizard's wand, Mike could freely study magic outside Diagon Alley.
The vague descriptions in the textbooks, a result of the authors' lack of precision with measurements, forced Mike to rely on a trial-and-error approach to discover the accurate gestures for spellcasting.
By a stroke of good fortune, Mike successfully mastered the Petrification Spell in fewer than a hundred tries.
Regarding the pure-blood wizard, his wand was adorned with the crest of the Burke family, indicating his lineage to one of the notable pure-blood families.
Mike remained unfazed. In jest, he pondered that the Burkes would only stumble upon a few picked-clean bones, untraceable to an eleven-year-old child, after a couple of months.
Mike always saw himself as forgiving; any grudge could be overlooked for the right price, and he believed the pure-blood wizard's life and wand were ample recompense.
He harbored no intentions of seeking retribution against the Burke family, even contemplating future collaboration.
After all, there are no perpetual enemies, only perpetual interests.
Within a span of slightly more than two weeks, Mike had diligently learned a number of fundamental spells, his growing proficiency only intensifying his thirst for deeper magical knowledge.
With a hefty trunk in tow, he set off for King's Cross Station, animated by the prospect of mastering advanced spells at Hogwarts.
Unperturbed by the curious glances from those he passed by, he navigated his way to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, where a mystical portal stood ready to welcome him.
There, at the threshold of this enchanted entry, stood Harry Potter, engaged in conversation with a family of individuals with striking red hair.
