As soon as Roger entered the room, he noticed a trace of worry lingering in Professor McGonagall's eyes.
"Professor, did something happen? Is there anything I can help with?" Roger asked enthusiastically.
He had come to see Professor McGonagall for a reason, but he wasn't in a hurry. After all, having been arrested by the Ministry of Magic before, he understood how the Ministry operated.
While not entirely corrupt, the Ministry was filled with severe bureaucracy—similar to Yes, Minister—or rather, most departments were essentially representatives of powerful wizards and families protecting their interests. Someone like him, with no influence, would inevitably face endless red tape when trying to get things done.
Back in 1689, around the late Ming and early Qing period, the International Statute of Secrecy was signed, and wizards began dividing territories based on Muggle national borders.
Each region was led by a few dominant factions—such as the Wizarding Council and the Department of Mysteries in Britain—and they all formed magic ministries to manage local wizards.
However, the wizards and factions that had originally monopolized magical resources and knowledge weren't willing to surrender their power to be governed by the Ministry.
Smaller factions were crushed by the tides of history, their knowledge becoming the magic books now openly sold in shops. The powerful, irreplaceable ones could only be absorbed into the system.
It was similar to how some countries had their water and electricity industries monopolized by certain families—politicians in the government had their pockets lined with bribes, making it impossible to take action against them. In fact, the government would even create special positions just for them.
Getting his hands on the Undetectable Extension Charm and obtaining usage rights wouldn't be easy. Even if Professor McGonagall was willing to help, she'd have to push it through multiple departments, dealing with endless approvals, which could take months.
Since he wasn't in a rush, and Professor McGonagall seemed troubled, Roger naturally prioritized her concerns.
Professor McGonagall was his first guide in the wizarding world and had helped him tremendously. He owed her for saving him years of detours in his magical studies.
Roger never let people who helped him suffer losses.
"It's nothing serious." Seeing Roger's serious expression, McGonagall waved her hand slightly.
"It's just… about Quidditch… sigh." A trace of embarrassment appeared on her face.
Quidditch was a popular sport among wizards and the only large-scale competitive sport at Hogwarts.
It was similar to football or basketball—players scored points by getting the ball through goals, and the team with the highest score won.
However, in Quidditch, wizards rode flying broomsticks, and the balls had their own movement abilities. It was said to have evolved from aerial magical combat among wizards.
At Hogwarts, each of the four houses formed a team to compete. Last year, Gryffindor was crushed by Slytherin, and as the Head of Gryffindor House, Minerva McGonagall had avoided running into Slytherin's Head, Severus Snape, for weeks.
Snape's sarcastic, biting remarks were unbearable—she had no desire to deal with him.
Hearing this, Roger's eyes flickered with awkwardness.
Even before McGonagall finished, he already knew what was going on. In fact, he bore some responsibility for it.
Since the school year started, he had devoted most of his time to studying and magical experiments, but that didn't mean he wasn't involved in other matters.
For instance, whenever classmates had trouble understanding something, he would help explain if he had the time—it was a good way to review knowledge.
If accidents happened in class, he would assist the professors in handling the aftermath.
And when conflicts broke out between Gryffindor and their long-time rivals, Slytherin, he would step in as a mediator if he saw it happening.
Roger didn't want to see bullying and infighting among classmates.
…Though, neither Gryffindors nor Slytherins particularly appreciated his rough methods of "mediating" conflicts.
Under Roger's deterrence, whenever he was around, Gryffindor and Slytherin students behaved themselves.
As a result…
During their flying lesson, the confrontation between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter never happened. Everyone followed the rules and attended class properly—no one dared to cause trouble.
Harry never got the chance to showcase his incredible flying talent in front of the students and McGonagall. Flying was dangerous, and Madam Hooch, their instructor, would never allow students to attempt risky maneuvers on their own.
Because of this, even now, McGonagall was still troubled over finding a replacement Seeker for Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Their previous Seeker, Charlie Weasley, had graduated, and no one had stepped up to fill the role.
The Seeker was the most crucial position in Quidditch. The game had no time limit—it only ended when the Seeker caught the Golden Snitch. If no one caught it, a match could theoretically last forever.
Thinking through all this, Roger asked, "Is it about the Seeker?"
"Yes."
"Then let Harry give it a try. It's a bit unusual to have a first-year as a Seeker, but Headmaster Dumbledore will approve."
"…Are you sure?" McGonagall asked. She had never heard of Harry having any talent in this area.
"Trust me, he'll be fine." Roger tapped his temple knowingly.
McGonagall understood immediately—prophecy!
As a powerful Seer, it made sense that he could tell what she was troubled by and provide a solution.
Seeing McGonagall nod, a smile appeared on Roger's face.
Harry Potter had inherited his father's exceptional Quidditch talent—he was naturally gifted at the sport. And not long ago, Roger had enhanced Harry's entire nervous system, optimizing his reflexes and coordination.
At this point, Harry's athletic abilities were as if he had been upgraded by a +15 enhancement charm—practically glowing with potential.
This upcoming Quidditch match was bound to be spectacular. Harry Potter, with his refined skills, unwavering determination, and shocking precision, would certainly leave all his opponents in awe!
"By the way, the next class is Flying. You should go watch—it'll be the perfect opportunity to test Harry's abilities. He won't disappoint you," Roger suggested.
It was better to let Harry prove himself. If he suddenly joined the team without demonstrating his skills, the other players might not accept him, and unnecessary conflicts could arise.
And Roger understood—deep-seated grudges often started from seemingly trivial matters.
Harry had helped him before, so Roger naturally wanted to eliminate any risks for him.
With McGonagall's issue settled, Roger moved on to his main reason for coming.
"You want to perform magical modifications on your own brain?!"
After hearing Roger's request, McGonagall's eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
Messing with the brain using magic? That was like a Muggle learning some basic medical knowledge and then deciding to perform brain surgery on themselves—practically suicidal!
Now she finally understood why Roger had been sorted into Gryffindor.
Other Gryffindors were bold in the sense of playing pranks or pulling tricks on teachers.
But him?
He was literally playing with his own life!
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