Eric split off a portion of his magic to suppress the wand, then took advantage of the opening to send the rest of his magic rapidly through the wand and release it.
Using this method, Eric hadn’t actually conquered the acacia wand completely.
He had merely found a temporary way around its resistance, allowing him to cast spells smoothly despite the wand’s attempts to interfere.
If another wizard saw the solution Eric had devised, they would probably be scared out of their wits.
Anyone who had studied even the most basic principles of spellcasting knew better than to manipulate their magic so recklessly.
There was a reason no Hogwarts professor would ever recommend that first-years teach themselves magic.
The underlying principles were simply too complicated for ordinary students.
Leave children to experiment however they pleased, and sooner or later someone like Eric was bound to appear.
But Eric possessed the Mental Field and exceptionally powerful Mental Power.
He was also sufficiently confident in his control over his own magic.
That was precisely why he dared to persist with such an unconventional method.
In truth, Eric was probably the only person capable of doing it.
For most witches and wizards, consciously sensing their own magic was already difficult enough.
Splitting that magic into two separate streams and controlling both simultaneously was another matter entirely.
Spellcasting also demanded concentration.
If a wizard failed to devote their full attention to the spell they were attempting, the consequences could be extremely serious.
Over the past few days, Eric had read no shortage of examples in his textbooks.
Mispronouncing a single syllable and causing one’s wand to explode was apparently far from unheard of.
To Eric, the wizarding world’s system of spellcasting was extraordinarily rigorous, yet at the same time filled with chaos and concepts that depended almost entirely on the caster’s state of mind.
Mispronounce one word, or move the wand at the wrong angle, and the spell could easily fail, or even rebound upon the caster.
That dependence on the mind was even more obvious with spells involving the soul, such as the Patronus Charm.
To cast a Patronus Charm, a witch or wizard had to supply the spell with joyful, positive emotions.
Without them, even if every other aspect of the casting were flawless, the Patronus simply wouldn’t appear.
It was also for this reason that many Dark wizards were incapable of summoning Patronuses of their own.
Their minds had been so badly twisted by Dark Magic that they could no longer adapt to such a positive method of spellcasting.
Eric smiled at the Patronus before him.
With a flick of his wand, the Patronus dispersed at once, dissolving into several strands of pure white light before fading into the air.
When Eric raised the wand again, he immediately noticed something different.
The acacia wand had completely lost the aloof, domineering resistance it had shown earlier.
The force with which it resisted Eric’s magic had weakened dramatically.
Eric casually raised his hand and cast the Wand Lighting Charm in the normal manner.
“Lumos.” This time, he could still feel a faint resistance coming from the acacia wand, but that was all.
It merely disrupted his magical flow for a brief moment before causing no further trouble.
After Eric withdrew his magic from the wand, the entire acacia wand seemed almost limp with exhaustion.
Yet it remained stubborn.
There was more than one way for a wand and wizard to come to accept one another.
Eric’s method of gradually subduing the wand over time was perfectly viable.
No matter how incompatible a wand’s wood might initially be with a wizard, after years of being steeped in that wizard’s magic, the wand would gradually move closer to accepting them.
It was merely a question of how long the process would take.
Of course, that assumed the wizard was actually capable of suppressing the wand in the first place.
Someone like Ollivander couldn’t do it.
His magical power wasn’t even sufficient to meet the minimum threshold required to make this particular acacia wand function.
At the current rate, Eric estimated that it wouldn’t be long before he forced the wand into complete submission.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, had been in a terrible mood lately.
Something enormous had happened in the wizarding world.
Something serious enough to threaten his political career.
Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban.
Every time Fudge thought about that dreadful piece of news, his expression darkened.
And who was Sirius Black?
One of Voldemort’s most notorious followers from the old days.
A terrifying murderer said to have killed thirteen people with a single curse.
And now someone that dangerous had escaped from Azkaban, the prison supposedly more secure than any other in the world.
Fudge almost wanted to march over there and blast every Dementor guarding the place with Patronus Charms.
If the Ministry hadn’t been so desperately short of manpower that there was nobody available to replace the Dementors at Azkaban, he might genuinely have given the order.
The Dementors had served the Ministry well for years, but Sirius Black’s escape alone was enough to send the Ministry’s reputation plummeting.
And then, as though that weren’t enough, fresh news had recently arrived from people keeping an eye on Harry Potter.
Harry Potter had run away from his uncle’s house.
According to the informant, Harry had used magic to retaliate against his aunt before leaving home.
When it rained, it poured.
Black had escaped from prison, and Harry Potter had chosen this exact moment to run away from home.
With both disasters happening at once, Fudge’s head felt ready to split from the strain.
Of course Fudge knew that Black was the man who had betrayed Harry Potter’s parents.
If Black reached Harry before the Ministry did, then no matter what happened afterward, Fudge could forget about remaining Minister.
If the Boy Who Lived came to harm while Fudge was in office, his political career would be finished forever.
Fudge stared at the day’s reports from the major newspapers, delivered to his desk by his secretary, and ground his teeth.
Nearly every one of them was criticising him.
Some claimed that corruption within the Ministry had worsened since Fudge took office, and that this was somehow what had allowed Black to escape.
Idiots!
Azkaban was guarded by Dementors!
It wasn’t as though ordinary witches and wizards could slip them a few Galleons as a bribe.
If the Dementors had failed at their jobs, what in Merlin’s name did that have to do with Cornelius Fudge?
Then another article on the page caught his eye.
Diagon Alley Attacked, Who Was Responsible?
Protest Or Revenge?
Black Suspected To Have Entered Diagon Alley!
Fudge’s eyes widened the instant he saw the headline.
He hurriedly began reading.
A moment later, he ordered his secretary to summon the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.
When the man arrived, Fudge slapped the newspaper down on his desk.
“Diagon Alley was attacked?
Why wasn’t I informed?” “What?” The department head stared blankly at him, then picked up the newspaper.
His expression changed.
“Something like this happened?” Fudge glared.
“Aren’t you the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes?” “Yes, but no one told me about it,” the man replied, spreading his hands helplessly.
“Damn it!
Go back to your department and investigate this immediately.
The moment you learn anything, report directly to me.
If Black really has infiltrated Diagon Alley, we’re in serious trouble.” The department head gave a bitter smile.
“I’ll go back and look into it immediately, Minister.
But if anyone gets news first, it’ll probably be you.
The newspapers reach your office faster than they reach my department.” “%&*@!” Fudge swore and threw up his hands.
“Forget it.
I’ll go to Diagon Alley myself.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Hidden_Quill Thank you so much for reading!