There are countless ways to kill someone. Leonard had no need to use ancient magic for that.
And since Professor Flitwick also recognized ancient magic, Leonard had even less reason to employ it for something nefarious. That would only expose him.
"We'll stick to talking about spells," Professor Flitwick said, his earlier excitement having cooled. He seemed reluctant to bring up ancient magic again, redirecting the topic back.
There was definitely a secret there. But if Flitwick didn't want to share, Leonard couldn't force him.
The discussion circled back to the Levitation Charm.
"If you want to disable someone, most would instinctively reach for a jinx. But those tend to be slower to cast—and that's your chance," Flitwick explained. "The Levitation Charm is one of the simplest spells. If you strike your opponent with it faster than they can finish casting, you'll interrupt their spell and buy time to follow up with something else while they're thrown off."
Leonard suddenly understood and nodded.
It was true. He hadn't even been able to react to Flitwick's charm earlier.
"Another example would be the Summoning Charm. The point is, don't always think about knocking your opponent down directly. Consider effects, combinations." Flitwick leaned forward. "And also, spellcasting technique."
"Is technique really that important?" Leonard asked.
"Of course. Perhaps you haven't noticed, but what truly matters when casting isn't the wand or gestures—it's your magic within."
Flitwick set his wand aside, lifted his finger, and pointed at the teacup. "Wingardium Leviosa."
The cup floated into the air, then settled gently back down.
This time, Flitwick picked up his wand but didn't utter an incantation. A slight flick was enough—the teacup floated again.
"Words and gestures aren't essential. They're guides for beginners, nothing more, a way to help them grasp the flow of magic," Flitwick explained, sipping from the levitating cup.
"That's silent casting and wandless casting, isn't it?" Leonard asked.
"Exactly. But don't mistake this demonstration as something you should master right away. I only mean to show you how technique plays a role," Flitwick clarified. "By streamlining gestures and incantations, you shorten the casting time—and in a duel, that's everything."
He gave a little nod, summing up. "That's the essence of it. The rest depends on how you apply it yourself. And if you still have questions, you're always welcome to ask."
"Professor…" Leonard hesitated, then decided to probe. "About ancient magic—"
"Ancient magic isn't something I won't teach—it's something I can't teach," Flitwick interrupted with a shake of his head. "It's like it's carved into my very bones. Even I don't fully understand it."
He sighed. "But Hogwarts is filled with remnants of ancient magic. If you're interested, search for them yourself. You may discover something."
"If I do… can I share it with you?" Leonard asked.
"Don't tell me. If you really feel the need to share, go to Dumbledore," Flitwick said sternly. "Ancient magic is no trivial matter. Best that no one but Dumbledore knows."
It sounded reasonable, even reassuring. Clearly Flitwick had no intention of coveting such power.
But telling Dumbledore...
Dumbledore was a good man, but if Leonard revealed the offensive side of his ancient magic, wouldn't he just become a "project," trained and used against Voldemort?
Leonard had no desire to be anyone's weapon.
As for what Flitwick might tell Dumbledore, that didn't matter. Leonard hadn't acted like someone knowledgeable about ancient magic anyway.
Still, Flitwick's words were strange. He had said outright that ancient magic belonged to wizards. But Flitwick was a goblin.
So what, exactly, was his ancient magic?
...
After parting ways with Professor Flitwick, Leonard—who'd originally intended to stop by Professor McGonagall's office to make himself known—left with mixed feelings.
He brooded for a moment, then decided instead to head to the botanical garden, plant the mandrake root, and give the soil some fertilizer.
Besides, Midgard had already delivered the first batch of magical creature materials Leonard had requested: dragon blood and scales prepared by Midgard.
It was about time the plants in his garden got an upgrade.
…
An hour later.
Still cloaked under the Disillusionment Charm and carefully skirting the Acromantula's territory, Leonard arrived at the border where the Forbidden Forest met the swamp.
Following a thorn-hidden path, he slipped into the Botanical Garden.
The outer Bitterthorns had sprouted fresh, tender brambles. As soon as they sensed Leonard's approach, they shook their spines wildly in greeting.
As the garden's perimeter guards, they had earned extra fertilizer from him. Watching them twitch in delight, Leonard chuckled, patting each one in turn before heading eastward.
The eastern section, closer to the swamp, held damp soil where Aconite and Chomping Cabbage grew.
The Aconite seeds came from enhanced Aconite fruits. Naturally, they only yielded more Aconite fruits—Midgard's special supply. Leonard planned to send her one every month.
The Chomping Cabbage was an ordinary magical plant, its root system slightly enhanced. He hadn't used Optimize Growth on it yet; he wanted to gather seeds first and then choose the best direction for enhancement.
But one particular Chomping Cabbage had devoured Acromantula venom. That meant any seeds it produced would carry the spider's toxin no matter how they were enhanced.
One bite, and you drop dead. Madness in plant form.
Leonard studied the other two Chomping Cabbages, then reached into his pocket.
A small vial of dragon blood glinted in his hand.
He planned to let one of the cabbages devour it. If his prediction was right, that cabbage would likely gain the ability to breathe fire—and when it self-destructed, the effect would be catastrophic.
After dripping in the blood, Leonard brought out a stack of dragon scales.
He fed the scales to half the Bitterthorns, and gave one other a dose of Acromantula venom.
Since they were the Botanical Garden's guards, he didn't dare risk feeding them dragon blood. If they gained fire-breathing powers and an intruder forced their hand, they might set the entire garden ablaze.
The dragon scales, though, would bolster their defenses. The safest upgrade.
As for the venom, he wanted to squeeze out a bit more experience. Only one plant received it, though—the Bitterthorn infused with Acromantula poison was tucked safely in the innermost section.
None of the plants had matured yet, so Leonard couldn't harvest any experience points for now. That would come only once they reached full growth.
Just like farmers who sow in spring only to reap in autumn.
Still, the garden's two long-term tasks didn't require waiting for maturity.
[You have enhanced plant varieties using magical creature materials: 4 (Chomping Cabbage: Acromantula, Dragon. Bitterthorn: Dragon, Acromantula)]
[You gained 120 Experience Points. Current rank: Advanced Plant Apprentice (311/700)].