Streaming Snape's dreams?
Right now, Bruce only wanted to ask Kathoom one question:
What exactly did Snape ever do to you to deserve this level of harassment?
First, the Polyjuice potion, and now, broadcasting his dreams.
Ever since the owl arrived at Hogwarts, Snape's life had been anything but normal.
"Don't look at me like that."
Kathoom noticed Bruce's expression. "For all you know, Snape might thank me in the end."
---
On the weekend, Bruce headed to the classroom where Dumbledore held his lessons.
This time, he had two tasks entrusted by Professor Gale: first, to demonstrate the power of the Phantasm Charm, and second, to propose the plan for linking with the diary.
Dumbledore's habit, it seemed, was to always arrive early.
When Bruce entered the classroom, Dumbledore was already there, smiling warmly at him.
"Apologies, Professor. I'm late again," Bruce sighed, offering an apology.
This time, he'd arrived half an hour early—yet Dumbledore still beat him.
"No need to apologize, Bruce," Dumbledore replied kindly. "You're quite early; I just pulled a little trick."
Bruce knew the truth.
He'd noticed it already—one of the portraits of a former headmaster hanging in the hallway leading to this classroom also hung in Dumbledore's office.
The reason Dumbledore could always arrive before him was hardly a secret—he used the portrait to alert him, then teleported over.
After all, only the headmaster had the right to Apparate within Hogwarts.
A bit vain, wasn't he?
"Well, let's begin today's lesson then."
Dumbledore regarded Bruce with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm curious to see what Professor Gale has devised to counteract the Shield Charm."
He knew everything.
Or rather, he'd guessed everything.
He'd guessed that, after suffering a setback, Gale wouldn't rest until he'd found a way to prove himself.
"Show me, Bruce," Dumbledore said. "Hold nothing back—cast the spell directly at me."
Few in the wizarding world had the privilege to draw their wands and cast spells at Dumbledore openly.
Bruce drew his wand, and in that very moment, the Phantasm Charm was activated.
It was a clever design by Professor Gale.
When creating the Phantasm Charm, he'd used a novel approach—the spell wasn't triggered by a word, but by a specific movement.
For instance, Gale himself had set his trigger as drawing his wand.
Anyone witnessing this action would be drawn into a world of illusion.
Bruce, of course, had chosen his own unique gesture.
"Professor, here I go."
With a flick of his wand, Bruce cast the Comet Hex. He recreated Gale's previous technique, throwing off Dumbledore's visual perception.
The first hex was a decoy—the real attack was hidden behind it.
Bruce wanted to see how Dumbledore would handle the same situation he'd faced.
He soon found out—
Dumbledore didn't do anything at all. Just as the hex was about to hit him, his entire form vanished.
With the target gone, the hidden hex that followed naturally missed its mark.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore reappeared behind Bruce, still smiling with an air of calm.
"Professor, that's a bit unfair, don't you think?"
Bruce protested, "No one else at Hogwarts is allowed to Apparate!"
Not to mention, it was far from a creative way to handle things.
Professor Gale likely wouldn't approve.
"Is that so?"
Dumbledore's smile grew as he listened to Bruce's complaint.
"What if I told you I didn't Apparate just now?"
Didn't Apparate?
But Bruce had clearly seen him disappear!
"Bruce, I'll explain in due time. But for now, our duel isn't over."
Dumbledore said softly, "Since Professor Gale taught you such an impressive illusion, you must have some follow-up tricks up your sleeve."
Fine.
Bruce didn't know how Dumbledore had figured out he was using an illusion-based spell.
But he pushed the question aside and focused on the duel.
At this point, Dumbledore waved his wand, and the suits of armor around the room seemed to spring to life, leaping from their stands and charging at Bruce.
This was what the headmaster saw.
But in Bruce's eyes, Dumbledore was actually controlling a few ordinary portraits.
The Phantasm Charm had created an illusion, making Dumbledore perceive the portraits as armor.
What he thought was an effective assault was, in reality, harmless.
Bruce planned to use this discrepancy to launch a real attack.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Just as those portraits drifted closer, their shapes began to shift, transforming into actual suits of armor that raised their weapons high, ready to strike.
Bruce was taken aback.
Even though he was the one creating the illusion, somehow, the illusion had become real.
"That's enough!"
Just as the armor was about to strike, Dumbledore called a halt. The armor froze in place, then shifted back to their original portrait forms and fell to the ground.
"Transfiguration?"
Bruce ended the Phantasm Charm.
He understood now what had happened. The portraits had become armor because of Dumbledore's Transfiguration spell.
"You're quite sharp, Bruce."
Dumbledore approached, opening his palm to reveal a crumpled candy wrapper.
"What's this?" Bruce asked.
"The secret to my little disappearing act," Dumbledore said with a smile. "It's a Portkey."
A Portkey was a magical object that transported anyone who touched it to a designated location.
Dumbledore had used this trick during the attack—he'd transformed the candy wrapper in his pocket into a Portkey, teleporting himself behind Bruce.
"Portkeys aren't banned in Hogwarts,"
Dumbledore explained, "so technically, I wasn't using my headmaster's privileges."
It was one of Dumbledore's favorite tricks.
Grab any ordinary object and casually transform it into a Portkey.
Bruce asked, "And the illusion? How did you know you were in an illusion?"
"Well…"
Dumbledore took his time to think of a reply.
"Bruce, when Professor Gale was teaching you this spell, did he mention using your imagination to make the illusion as realistic as possible?"
Bruce nodded; Gale had indeed said that.
"There you go." Dumbledore patted Bruce's shoulder, "Keep at it!"
Before Bruce could respond, Dumbledore seamlessly changed the topic.
"Personally, I've always felt that, while illusions are powerful, real magic is even stronger."
Dumbledore picked up one of the portraits. "For instance, if you made me see this as armor, I don't need to break the illusion. I can simply turn it into actual armor.
"And not just armor."
With that, the portrait in his hand transformed into a gleaming silver sword.
Dumbledore pulled a hair from his head, blew it onto the sword's blade, and it sliced cleanly in two.
Then, the silver sword shifted back, returning to its original form as a portrait.
Bruce watched, an intense feeling stirring inside him.
In Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall often had students turn mice into snuffboxes or beetles into buttons.
Bruce had always thought Transfiguration was interesting but assumed it was mostly for control.
But now, after Dumbledore's display, Transfiguration held a whole new meaning for him.
How could a spell like this possibly be just a tool for control in battle?
If he could master Transfiguration, he could create an endless arsenal in battle.
Imagine Bruce standing amidst battlefield ruins, sweeping his arm, and the debris rises to transform into countless swords, hovering densely behind him.
What a scene that would be!
The thought alone thrilled him.
And what if he didn't turn the rubble into swords, but into nuclear bombs?
Bruce's face suddenly became more serious than ever. "Professor, I want to learn Transfiguration!"
"So you've sensed the appeal of Transfiguration."
Dumbledore smiled. "But it's a highly advanced field—you'll need to invest a lot of time and energy."
"No problem!"
Bruce's gaze was steady. In that moment, he had a clear goal.
To become a Transfiguration master!
As for Professor Gale?
He's nothing to me!
---
This lesson ended with Bruce still feeling unsatisfied.
Dumbledore was pleased to see his students so eager to learn magic; this was, after all, why he'd dedicated himself to education.
After the Transfiguration session, Bruce remembered his second task.
He pulled out Voldemort's diary from a stack of textbooks and, following Professor Gale's instructions, said to Dumbledore—
"Professor, there's something I need to tell you."
"What is it?"
Dumbledore glanced at the diary in Bruce's hand, sensing the dark magic within.
Bruce explained, "This is a diary I found by accident. It can talk to me. There seems to be a soul inside it."
Dumbledore's tone grew serious. "A soul? Bruce, don't rush to conclusions."
Talking, interactive magical items were common enough and not hard to make.
Just look at the portraits all over the castle.
But when it came to objects involving souls, that was something else entirely.
The first thing that came to Dumbledore's mind was a Horcrux.
One of the darkest magical artifacts in existence, requiring murder to create.
"I'm certain there's a soul in there!"
Bruce insisted. "It keeps talking to me, saying horrible things about Harry, trying to turn me against him. It's awful!
"Oh, right, it even has a name!"
"Does it?" Dumbledore thought that knowing the diary's name might help trace its origins.
Judging by the dark magic, its owner was likely a dark wizard.
Wait—could it be Grindelwald's?
Dumbledore's expression grew odd. Grindelwald never struck him as the diary-writing type.
And what would he even write in a diary?
At that moment, Bruce spelled out the name of the soul within the diary.
"He says his name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."
---
T/N: Bruce wants to be an Archer? Get real
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