Chapter 59: A single true sentence outweighs ten thousand volumes of false books

For elite wizards who have truly set foot upon the path of magic, their personal magical journey is something that can be discussed, yet must be guarded with the utmost secrecy.

It is much like asking a successful businessman how he achieved his success; he might offer you clichés about hard work and striving. He might talk about catching the right market winds, daring to fight and win, and other superficial platitudes of success literature. At most, he might share the emotional journey of the struggles he faced along the way.

However, how the upper-level connections were greased, the secrets to recognizing and employing talent, the core intellectual property of his enterprise, the pathways of customer acquisition, how the network of relationships was managed, or how to land safely instead of crashing to one's death after catching the wind of fortune—these things are generally never spoken of.

Yet for Professor McGonagall, these matters could indeed be shared with Roger.

She was Roger’s guide into the wizarding world. Roger had grown under her watchful eye, stepping forward one stride at a time from a child who knew not a single shred of magic aside from prophecy, reaching the very heights he stood at today.

The vast collection of books that laid the foundation for Roger’s theoretical understanding of magic? She gifted them.

Transfiguration, the magic at which Roger excelled most? She taught it.

The path of alchemy that elevated Roger’s rate of growth by an entire order of magnitude? She guided him onto its threshold.

Though nominally professor and student, if one were to calculate it strictly, Professor McGonagall could well be considered half a master to Roger. In the ancient wizarding eras before Hogwarts ever came to be, this was practically the relationship of a mantle-inheriting successor.

Therefore, regarding Roger’s inquiries, Professor McGonagall held nothing back, laying bare every relevant detail of her own magical path before him.

As the saying goes, teaching the apprentice starves the master, but Professor McGonagall harbored no such worries. She understood Roger quite well; he was the sort of person who would return kindness twofold to anyone who treated him well.

"So, when you originally chose your magical path, you didn't struggle with it overmuch, but rather naturally gravitated toward Transfiguration?" The knowledge Professor McGonagall imparted was immensely precious, the crystallization of years of wisdom, yet Roger was far more concerned with how she had first stepped onto the Dao.

The magical paths of this world, while lacking the absolute exclusivity of one niche per person, possessed a different kind of limitation. That is to say, magic in this realm is a deeply subjective affair. People who perceive the world through different methods find it difficult to simply pick up and use the cutting-edge knowledge of another's domain without undergoing a process of personal translation.

Having resolved to walk his own path, Roger could not afford to deviate at this juncture.

Professor McGonagall recalled those bygone days with a thoughtful look, then replied, "Transfiguration was simply what I excelled at most, so naturally, I never considered any other path."

Wizards do not need to harbor the manifold anxieties that Muggles face when choosing a career. Strictly speaking, nearly all magic is an ability of a "conceptual grade." It is merely constrained by the intensity of a wizard's spiritual strength, their level of cognitive understanding, and their capacity for imagination, which is why their power might not yet be sufficiently "formidable."

If you truly possess an extraordinary talent for a certain branch of magic and can delve deeply into that domain, even something as seemingly simple as the Disarming Charm can unleash terrifying might comparable to high-end magic.

To summarize the accumulation of Professor McGonagall's first pot of gold on her magical journey in a single sentence:

Do what you excel at most!

After having a detailed exchange with Professor McGonagall regarding these matters, Roger departed with a contemplative expression.

His second intended target for a visit was the Head of Slytherin, Professor Snape.

"...Why have you come?" Upon seeing Roger arrive for a visit, Snape’s expression turned peculiar—simultaneously slightly tense and somewhat awkward.

"There are some matters concerning magic that I would like to consult you about, Professor," Roger said with a smile.

In Roger’s eyes, in the truest sense of magic, Snape was a somewhat special individual.

In his early years, he walked the path of the Dark Arts, and his mind had been deeply eroded by emotional magic, bringing him to the very brink of damnation. His thought processes had begun to skew toward those of Voldemort—cold, malevolent, and increasingly extreme.

Yet, unlike Voldemort, whose mental anchor was immortality and political power—willing to undertake near-mad ventures and wager his very life on the gaming table merely to remain eternally among the ruling elite—Snape’s mental anchor only appeared to be power. In reality, it was nothing of the sort. Once his anchor was nearly pulverized by Voldemort, Snape swung from one extreme to the other.

His Dark magic ceased to be piercing, and his magical path shifted away from negative emotion magic and pure potion-crafting toward the absolute purity of potions alone.

Roger was exceedingly curious about the impact that this shift in his magical path had exerted upon Snape himself.

"What is your question?" Snape suppressed the awkwardness in his heart, adopting a peaceful tone entirely distinct from the disdainful attitude he had displayed during their previous meeting.

"I have reached the point where I must choose my own magical path. You should understand what I mean. I wish to consult the Professor regarding matters of this nature." Although he was deeply curious about the many intricacies of Snape's journey, Roger actually held no great expectations.

After all, his relationship with Snape was not all that deep; if he could glean a few shallow, practical insights from Snape, Roger would be quite satisfied.

"A magical path..." Snape gazed intently at Roger.

He felt no particular surprise that Roger, an eleven-year-old first-year student, was already beginning to touch upon thresholds that many graduates never encountered in a lifetime.

Given Snape's channels within the upper echelons of wizarding society, he had laid eyes upon some of Roger’s files. This boy was yet another powerful seer following in the wake of Grindelwald, and after interacting with him at the school, Snape had a profound appreciation for Roger’s fanaticism and unwavering resolve.

Magic is a miracle born of belief. The more formidable a person's willpower, the easier it is for them to learn magic.

Yet he had not expected that Roger, a Gryffindor, would actually run up to ask him—the Head of Slytherin House—such a question.

At that moment, Snape’s thoughts wandered far and wide. He thought of Harry, he thought of the prophecy, he thought of Lily...

"Ask away. I shall answer to the best of my ability."

Roger had not anticipated that while Snape might not empty his pockets quite as thoroughly as Professor McGonagall had, neither did he excessively hoard his knowledge. Every question Roger posed received a clear and definitive reply.

"The magical path is of paramount importance, yet it is not overly complicated," Snape said finally, offering Roger a piece of advice after a long discussion.

"The root of magic lies within our own hearts. It is because we yearn for magic that magic descends."

"Choose the path you love most, pour your all into it, and the miracle of magic will manifest by your side." As he uttered these final words, a complex array of emotions flickered within the depths of Snape's pupils.

Ever since Lily’s departure, Snape’s inner world had plunged into gloom, and his magic had been profoundly affected.

Not only his magical might, but even his efficiency in studying and researching magic was no longer in the same league as before.

Amidst this disillusionment, Snape had acquired a far deeper comprehension of the true essence of magic.

Having reaped fresh answers from Snape, under normal circumstances, Roger’s next port of call should have been to visit Dumbledore.

However, contacting Dumbledore was genuinely inconvenient. Although the wizarding world possessed various long-distance communication methods, allowing those methods to pass through an intermediary step always carried the risk of intelligence leakage.

Matters of such profound confidentiality were truly unsuited for discussion via any means other than face-to-face.

Thus, Roger decided to first seek out another individual who happened to be quite close by.

"Voldemort, why did you choose the magical path you walk today?"