"Professor Dumbledore, you're known as a master of Legilimency, aren't you? Then why not just use it on this girl Panessa and settle everything right now?"
Even in the presence of a legendary wizard like Albus Dumbledore, Cassandra's proud and headstrong nature did not waver.
"Miss Cassandra," Snape interjected coldly, "mind your language."
"I have no intention of violating anyone's mental privacy over a school dispute," Dumbledore responded calmly. "Legilimency is not a tool to be used lightly—certainly not in matters where the truth can be discovered by other means."
"Headmaster," Panessa sobbed, "I was humiliated in front of everyone! She hung me upside down with the Fuchsia Charm—everyone saw my underwear! Kurat was slammed to the floor, and Cassandra even cast a fire curse at him. If Hermione hadn't put out the flames with a Dousing Charm, he might have been burned alive!"
While the commotion unfolded, Cassian Drayke stood silently, his sharp eyes fixed on Dumbledore. At the same time, he activated one of his self-created spells—Magical Perspective.
This unique magic allowed Cassian to observe the flow of magical power in others, a diagnostic spell he had developed through years of experimentation. By gauging the color and distribution of magical energy within a body, he could assess the strength of a wizard with remarkable accuracy.
Magical power generally resided in the heart, and as a wizard's strength grew, it spread throughout the body. Its quality was indicated by color: pale blue for basic levels, cyan for advanced, and pure white for those of exceptional power.
Most Death Eaters possessed only the first level, blue, while a select few reached cyan. But Dumbledore... Dumbledore was different.
Cassian watched in awe. White magic surged through nearly 80% of Dumbledore's body. The headmaster's power far surpassed anyone he had ever encountered. When Cassian had designed this spell, he'd set white magic as the highest benchmark—an ideal more than a reality. Yet here it was, in front of him.
Among the others, Cassandra's magic had matured into a mid-level blue, spreading halfway through her body. Panessa and Kurat, by contrast, still had all their magical power concentrated at the heart—a sign of their inexperience.
Snape and McGonagall were both at the cyan stage, their magical energy flowing throughout their bodies. Cassian's own power, he noted with quiet pride, was roughly half-full in cyan. He was still young, but his training had pushed him far beyond the typical limits of a first-year.
He knew, however, that raw magical reserves weren't everything. Spells, technique, and efficiency all mattered. Against the professors, he might hold his own in a duel with clever tactics. But against someone like Dumbledore, whose magic was sheer force and mastery combined, he'd be crushed.
As Cassian studied him, Dumbledore paused. A strange sensation crept over the headmaster—a feeling of being watched, though not in the conventional sense. His gaze sharpened on Cassian, and in the faintest gesture, he reached out with Legilimency.
To his surprise, he found a wall—silent, impenetrable. Cassian's mind was not open. Not even slightly.
The child's mental defenses were far too advanced for someone his age.
He really was in Azkaban at nine, Dumbledore thought. No wonder...
Realizing that Dumbledore was starting to pry into his thoughts, Cassian immediately dispelled the Magical Perspective spell. Though it was his creation, even he hadn't expected Dumbledore to detect it.
No one had noticed before. Not Snape. Not the Ministry wizards. No one.
Only Dumbledore.
And now, Cassandra stepped subtly in front of Cassian, shielding him from the headmaster's gaze.
But Dumbledore had already stopped. He would not press further. To dig so deeply into a child's mind would be an abuse of power—and completely at odds with the restraint he tried to uphold.
Besides, Legilimency at full strength would be impossible to conceal. It would contradict his earlier statement, and risk his credibility with the students. So he let the matter go.
"Panessa. Kurat," Snape finally spoke, his tone cold and severe. "Tell the truth. Continue lying, and you may face expulsion."
His words had a chilling effect. As head of Slytherin, his wrath held weight. The pale glint in his eyes made both students tremble.
"I... I was the one who challenged Cassandra to a duel," Panessa stammered, voice barely above a whisper. "But I didn't expect Kurat to try anything underhanded..."
Kurat's face fell like a deflated balloon.
"My mind just... snapped. I thought I'd teach that arrogant first-year a lesson. So I hit her with a Blasting Hex."
"Hmph," Snape sneered, "attacking a freshman. Truly, the pride of Slytherin. Slytherin House loses twenty points. You two—copy the entire Advanced Potion-Making textbook twice, and clean the toilets for a week."
Panessa and Kurat both looked like they'd swallowed sour lemons.
Cassian, still standing nearby, raised his voice.
"Professor Snape, if I may—punishing them is fine, but isn't it unfair that Cassandra and I lose house points for something we didn't instigate? We're both Slytherins now, and their actions reflect on us."
Snape's eyes snapped to Cassian, narrowing.
There was a pause.
Then, unexpectedly, a small, almost imperceptible nod.
He had only deducted points because Panessa and Kurat were from Slytherin, and it had to be done. But Cassian had just given him an out—a way to preserve Slytherin's reputation without appearing biased.
Smart boy, Snape thought. Very Slytherin. And a Hasto, no less. Rarely seen in a century...
He didn't say it aloud, but his approval was clear in his silence.
Dumbledore, observing it all, allowed himself a small smile. Cassian Drayke, for all his mystery and darkness, was showing signs of subtle leadership and intellect. That boy, he thought, might one day change the future of the wizarding world.
But whether for good or ill... only time would tell.
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