Chapter 282 — Devour! The Sun-Chasing Wolf
The Deluminator — a seemingly simple alchemical device.
At first glance, it only appeared to absorb light. Yet its true function was far more profound.
It didn't merely take light — it took the source itself.
When one of its captured lights wasn't released, the candle or lantern it came from seemed perfectly intact, but no flame could rekindle it again. The concept it absorbed was beyond science — something ethereal, born from the essence of wizardry itself.
Only a mind that transcended the ordinary — someone who understood the idealism behind magic — could have created it.
Even in the original timeline, powerful wizards like Scrimgeour had coveted this rare and extraordinary artifact.
But the Deluminator's true value went far beyond extinguishing lights.
During their hunt for Horcruxes, Ron had once abandoned Harry and Hermione, his mind clouded by the Horcrux's dark influence. Yet when he activated the Deluminator, he suddenly heard their voices — even though they were kilometers away.
When he clicked it, a sphere of blue light, bright as a Portkey, emerged and sank into his chest.
In that instant, he could feel their presence — and Apparated directly to them.
It wasn't just a light switch. The Deluminator was a bridge — a spell of yearning.
It allowed its holder to hear the voice of someone they loved and even locate them, as long as the yearning was mutual — or their name had been spoken.
In the original timeline, Ron had heard Harry's and Hermione's voices only because Hermione had mentioned his name.
Alexander couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise. That Dumbledore would entrust such a thing to Harry…
To him, the Deluminator's tracking ability resembled the enchantment Voldemort once placed upon his own name — the cursed taboo that summoned hunters upon anyone who dared to speak it aloud.
Inside the Deluminator, the owner's name was engraved. When that name was spoken by another, and the holder's thoughts aligned with them, the device responded — connecting hearts through emotion.
The difference was stark. Voldemort's curse thrived on fear and domination. The Deluminator worked through affection and longing.
It was powered not by darkness, but by connection.
In contrast, Voldemort's Death Eater squads had used a similar artifact to hunt those who dared speak his name. That item, however, lacked the nuance of emotion — it captured sound, not feeling.
And now, Dumbledore had given this refined creation to Harry Potter.
The faint inscription of "Albus Dumbledore" etched within the silver casing faded away, replaced by a new name — "Harry Potter."
Alexander found himself wondering when Harry would uncover its hidden power.
It wasn't just a gift — it was a lesson. A magic book written in metal and light.
Clearly, Dumbledore believed Harry had grown enough to take the next step in his magical understanding.
The Deluminator — a conduit of emotion and light — was the bridge toward Harry's next transformation.
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Time passed quickly, and before anyone realized it, September loomed once again. The Hogwarts Express would soon depart.
Throughout August, Harry and his friends spent nearly every spare moment experimenting with the Deluminator.
Soon, Sirius and Lupin joined in as well.
One quiet night at Grimmauld Place, Harry raised his wand toward the flickering candles lining the ancient walls. In a sudden rush, each flame drew inward, transforming into glowing orbs of light that sank into his wand tip.
"Choose a name," Sirius said wisely, watching him. "One that carries true magical meaning."
Harry paused, eyes narrowing as if searching the air itself. Then his lips curved into a knowing smile.
"Light… no, not just light…" he whispered. "Skulpgorgio!"
With a flash, the captured lights burst from his wand, soaring back into their candles like guided stars.
"Harry! You just invented a spell!" Ron exclaimed, jaw hanging open.
"You idiot," Draco groaned, rubbing his temple. "You shouldn't say that out loud."
He sounded irritated, but there was genuine alarm in his tone.
In the magical world, the name of a spell held immense power. If a wizard revealed it, others could study, replicate, and even weaken it. Only by keeping its meaning hidden could a spell's strength remain intact — its secrets preserved.
Spells that were widely known often became easier to learn… and easier to counter. But those crafted with deep symbolism — rooted in story, emotion, and intent — carried unique resonance, difficult for others to break.
"I was just too excited," Ron admitted sheepishly, scratching his head.
Harry chuckled. "Don't worry. It was meant for Sirius anyway — so Regulus won't need to relight every candle whenever he enters a room."
He then explained, calmly and clearly, "This spell actually comes from three parts."
"The first is Sköll — from Norse mythology. The wolf that devours the sun. That's the base: it describes the act of absorbing the light."
"The second is Lupus — Latin for wolf — tying the image together, emphasizing what kind of creature Sköll is."
"The third comes from Engorgio — or rather, gorge, from Old French. As a verb, it means to swallow. It evolved into the phrase 'to wolf down' — to devour greedily."
"Combined, it forms the concept — to devour light itself."
He looked up, a small smile touching his lips. "Devour! The Sun-Chasing Wolf."
For a moment, the room was silent.
Sirius stared at him, speechless. "Harry… you—"
Naming a spell wasn't something done lightly. For most wizards, it could take months—sometimes years—to perfect a name that resonated with both meaning and function.
Yet Harry had done it in a single breath. And somehow, it worked.
"Since when did you start thinking like that?" Ron muttered, wide-eyed.
Draco blinked, looking like he might faint. "This… this isn't normal magic…"
He wasn't wrong.
The difficulty of mastering a spell often depended on its name. A meaningless or carelessly made one required immense magical power and focus. But a perfectly named spell — one steeped in story, symbolism, and structure — resonated deeply with magic itself.
If the creator's intent was strong enough, even beginners could learn it. Add a proper wand movement, and the spell could easily spread like wildfire.
That night, the candles of Grimmauld Place flickered again, glowing brighter than ever — as if the very house had heard and remembered the name:
"Skulpgorgio — Devour! The Sun-Chasing Wolf."
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End of Chapter 282 — Devour! The Sun-Chasing Wolf
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