Snape stared long and hard at the three floating replicas.
Linus Alvin Bones stood with his hands behind his back, his expression serene.
A faint scent of nutrient solution filled the air, and light reflected off the transparent culture tanks, as if even time itself had been dissolved inside them.
“Why not resolve the genetic collapse yourself?” Snape asked.
Linus turned his head, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I certainly could, but if a Potions Master takes action, the result will be far more interesting.” Snape narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Goading won’t work on me.” “Haha.” Linus’s tone remained unchanged.
“I simply want to see whether you can combine potions with science.
You excel at brewing potions, yet you have never attempted to stabilize living structures through them.” “Are you saying…
use potions to repair cloned genes?” “To be precise, to harmonize magic frequencies,” Linus replied in a low voice.
After a few seconds of silence, Snape sneered coldly.
“Are you asking me to feed herbs to Muggle prisoners to monitor their internal reactions?” Linus said softly, “Since you understand, I won’t say more.” “Madman,” Snape snorted coldly, yet he did not refuse further.
He turned to leave, his robes sweeping through the air as his low voice echoed back: “Prepare the required materials for the experiment.
If we are truly going to research this, do not waste my time.” The sound of footsteps faded away.
Linus watched his departing back, the corners of his lips curving slightly.
—That was the real Snape.
Rational, skeptical, yet never stopping in his tracks.
The laboratory fell quiet once again.
Linus walked over to one of the clones, raised his wand, and chanted softly: “Resero Codexvita.” The air shimmered as several silver lines of light intertwined into a runic matrix.
The magic power around the clone abruptly surged into motion, as if life itself were awakening.
A few seconds later, a series of complex energy lines floated before his eyes—the code of life.
For the past month, he had been studying this spell.
It could directly read the “life code” of any living organism without the need for machinery or eye-magic spells.
He called it the Book of Life.
Linus focused his gaze, his brow slightly furrowed.
“As expected…
the life structure is extremely unstable, and the magic genes are a complete blank.” That meant—these replicas had no Magic Core.
Theoretically, they were Muggles.
What changes would occur once a soul returned?
Linus pondered.
According to existing theory, a wizard’s magical power originated from bloodline.
Bloodline determined the flow and capacity of magical energy.
However, souls also possessed magical characteristics.
If a soul could influence the physical body, then the “bloodline inheritance” of magic might merely be a surface manifestation.
“What happens if a wizard’s soul possesses a Muggle’s body?” The question hung in the depths of his mind.
He recalled the duel in the graveyard—when Voldemort was reborn, the spirits of Harry’s parents had briefly appeared and were still able to cast magic.
Souls clearly possessed the capability to cast magic.
So, could a soul “reboot” a body devoid of magical power?
If it could, that would mean—the essence of magic might stem from the alignment between soul and matter.
“If a soul can reconstruct magical power, then death is no longer the end, but merely another form of transformation.” Linus murmured in a low voice, his gaze growing deeper.
The laboratory was deathly quiet.
The hum of operating machinery and the sound of dripping water intertwined like a cold, solemn symphony.
He flicked his wand lightly, sealing away the matrix of light.
“Time to let Snape try his potions.” He turned and left, thoughts surging in his mind.
If potions could stabilize DNA, and if the soul could reignite magical power, then the boundary between death, rebirth, and eternity…
might be completely broken.
—That was the true path of magic.
*** When he returned to Hogwarts, night had shrouded the castle.
Linus did not see Helena; she seemed to be avoiding him.
He let out a quiet sigh and pulled out the old book Neville had given him that morning.
It was an ancient copy of *The Magical Botanical Log*, its pages yellowed with age and its cover bound in black dragon hide.
Flipping open the cover, dense handwriting listed names of long-extinct plants— “Moonshadow Grass, Night Spirit Flower, Grey-Silver Vine…” Every plant came with listed substitutes, theories of regeneration, and annotations regarding “magical ecological harmonization.” Linus’s eyes brightened.
If these records were accurate, combining these herbs with alchemy could form a stable carrier for magical energy.
Perhaps this was the exact key to solving the clone collapse.
He closed the book, lost in thought.
“It seems the Longbottom family’s private collection is deeper than I imagined.” “Perhaps…
in Gringotts, there are secrets they have yet to reveal.” His thoughts drifted, and he spoke no further.
Moonlight poured through the window onto the cover, casting a faint silver glow.
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would be his first official day as a professor.