Chapter 66: The Turning Point of World History

By noon, Roger had spent the entire morning revising and refining his work, finally bringing his writing to a close.

Realizing it was lunchtime, Roger took his dictionary-thick notebook and headed toward the school cafeteria.

Because many teachers and students had already gone home for the holidays, the cafeteria was somewhat empty today.

The students who did come to dine generally ate very little.

Tonight was the Christmas banquet, where all sorts of delicacies would be overwhelmingly tempting, so most people chose to save room for the feast.

Roger, however, had no such concerns and behaved just as usual.

He no longer needed to rely on conventional eating to sustain his life, but when necessary, his digestive system could operate at a level capable of processing metal, stone, radioactive materials, severe poisons, and the like.

As long as he wished, consuming a dozen kilograms of food was an effortless task, so there was no need for him to fast in anticipation of culinary treats.

Just as Roger was finishing his lunch and preparing to leave, a boisterous group of people poured into the cafeteria.

At their head was Harry.

Seeing his face flushed red from the cold, scraps of unmelted snow still clinging to his collar, and the trailing crowd of identically styled Gryffindors behind him, Roger immediately knew they had probably just returned from a fierce snowball fight.

"Did you win?" Roger walked forward to meet them after finishing his meal.

"Of course we won! We completely thrashed Slytherin!" Ron, standing beside Harry, displayed an excitement far surpassing Harry's own.

Watching his best friend perform such mighty feats naturally filled him with vicarious pride.

"It was alright, except that Slytherin was a bit of a sore loser." Remembering what had just happened, Harry wore a smile at the corners of his mouth.

Ever since Roger optimized his nervous system, Harry could be considered a genuine prodigy in athletics; not only was he exceptionally skilled as a Seeker, but handling a snowball fight was also an absolute breeze for him.

He could practically be described as a "merciless shooting machine."

Back and forth it went, until the Slytherin students finally broke under the pressure.

They started drawing their wands and casting incantations.

Attempting a collective Levitation Charm to launch a barrage of snowballs.

Yet, precisely at the critical moment, Hermione shouted, "Roger is coming!"

The magic was aborted in a panic, and the floating snowballs ended up crashing down on their own feet.

Right now, they were probably still lying in the snowbanks.

It would likely take them a dozen minutes or so to recover.

By that time, the cafeteria would have already finished serving meals.

At that point, Malfoy and the others from Slytherin would either have to swallow their pride and beg the kitchen staff for food, or go entirely without eating until the evening banquet began.

"Ah, it's such a pity you didn't come, Roger," Hermione remarked from the side, having enjoyed herself immensely as well.

Roger said nothing in response to this, only smiling and shaking his head.

If he hadn't stayed away, they wouldn't have been able to play so freely; had he gone over, many of them would have felt uneasy.

Just like children at play, if the headmaster insists on joining in, it only spoils the fun of the game.

Shifting his gaze to Harry's face and observing his smile, Roger finally felt at ease.

During the battle against Voldemort last night, Harry had gone in with the determination to risk his very life.

Yet, when the battle finally concluded, he learned that, no matter what, he could not eliminate his mortal enemy in the short term.

The emotional disparity in his heart must have been substantial.

Roger had even thought he might need to provide some psychological counseling for Harry.

Judging by the present situation, however, that would not be necessary.

The Harry of today had grown into a brave soul who dared to face hardships head-on and refused to be discouraged.

After chatting for a brief moment and bidding farewell to his classmates, Roger continued on his way.

Leaving the cafeteria, he walked in the direction of the headmaster's office.

***

"This thick?" Dumbledore looked in astonishment at the notebook Roger had just pulled out.

"Most of it consists of my hypotheses regarding how to proceed when operating on it specifically."

"The true core of the theory occupies only this much." With that, Roger made a vague gesture across roughly one-tenth of the dictionary-thick notebook.

"I call this theory the 'Three-Dimensional Thesis'."

"However, before introducing it to you, I would like to ask you for a Christmas present."

A hint of curiosity flickered in Dumbledore's eyes: "What is it you desire?"

This was the very first time the young prophet had actively asked him for something, which naturally piqued his curiosity.

"I merely wish to accomplish a simple, minor task, but for this minor task, I must have your permission."

"I wish to temporarily leave Hogwarts, head into the Muggle world, and return after a few hours."

At Hogwarts, even going home for Christmas required unified registration; registered students left together and returned together on the Hogwarts Express at the start of term, with no arbitrary departures allowed.

"A major event is about to take place, and I wish to witness it," Roger said with a serious expression.

Dumbledore widened his eyes slightly: "A major event?"

If anyone else had spoken these words, he might not have paid them much mind.

Yet Roger was a prophet—and a prophet who had already weathered the trials of war!

For something to count as a major event in his eyes, what kind of occurrence could it possibly be?

"Where are you going?"

"Anywhere with a television will do," Roger replied.

"If you are interested, you might come along to witness it as well... The issue of the international statute of secrecy in the Middle East that has been plaguing you might find its resolution there."

"As for what specific matter it is..."

"You will know very soon." In a rare occurrence, Roger did not directly spell out the answer.

***

Boom!

This was Roger's first experience with the wizards' spatial movement magic, Apparition.

To be honest, the sensation was thoroughly unpleasant, akin to Tom the cat from Tom and Jerry being forcefully crammed into a two-centimeter water pipe and then reconstituted.

This spell was by no means difficult for Roger, yet he had never mastered it.

Because the interior of Hogwarts enforced strict prohibitions against Apparition, he had no way to practice it.

Throughout the entirety of Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore was the only one capable of Apparition and spatial teleportation—that was his sole privilege.

On Christmas Day, the streets of Britain were exceptionally lively, the shops lining both sides adorned with colorful festive lights.

From time to time, a Santa Claus dressed in red with a fake beard would pass by, and one of them, as he walked past Roger, casually slipped a small gift box into his hands.

Roger could sense that beneath the wrapping paper lay two bars of chocolate.

Passing by children cheering while tugging at their parents' hands, couples locked in tight embraces, and groups of youths gathering to play, Roger and Dumbledore ignored the surrounding bustle and headed straight for a luxury hotel equipped with satellite television.

Roger glanced at the hotel clock; it was nearly 1:00 PM.

The time difference between Britain and one of the two global poles that was about to undergo a drastic transformation tonight was approximately six hours.

Right now, it was nearly 7:00 PM over there.

The television screen flickered to life.

A slightly bald man with a map-shaped birthmark on his crown, dressed in a sharp suit, appeared on the television screen.

Appearing before the eyes of both Roger and Dumbledore.

"Dear compatriots, in view of the situation following the formation of the Commonwealth of Independent States, I hereby terminate my..."