At the beginning of the school year, the professors mostly assigned theoretical work to the students. Solim was already very familiar with these topics, so he currently had a great deal of free time to use as he pleased.
Earlier that morning, the item Solim had been expecting finally arrived by owl.
On Fridays they only had classes in the morning, which meant Solim had the entire afternoon and evening free.
After lunch, Solim began searching the castle grounds for someone.
Argus Filch.
Filch was the caretaker of Hogwarts.
He was ill tempered and deeply disliked by students. His greatest hobby seemed to be making life difficult for them.
Filch owned a cat named Mrs Norris, which was practically the only emotional support in his life. Like Filch, the cat spent most of its time wandering the corridors of the castle. If Mrs. Norris spotted even the smallest rule violation, Filch would appear at the scene immediately.
Filch was a Squib.
In other words, he had been born into a wizarding family but could not use magic.
That fact explained much about his unpleasant personality and the bitterness he showed toward young witches and wizards.
Chains and manacles hung from the ceiling of his office, polished to a shine. If he were ever granted permission, Filch would happily use them to punish students who broke the rules.
Solim had only one reason for seeking Filch.
He was a Squib.
To be honest, it was surprisingly difficult to find Filch when you were not causing trouble.
Solim had already walked around much of the castle without seeing either Filch or Mrs. Norris.
After asking several portraits for directions, Solim finally found him scrubbing graffiti off a wall.
Filch was already quite old.
Without magic, he had to rely on brushes and cleaning solution instead of simply casting a spell like a wizard.
"Scourgify!"
Filch spun around immediately and glared at Solim, assuming this was some sort of trick.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Filch," Solim said calmly, lowering his wand.
"Get away from here, boy!" Filch snapped, hobbling forward with his long handled brush. "Don't think you can mock me!"
"I'm not mocking you," Solim replied. "I only want to talk."
"Leave before I hang you up in chains!" Filch shouted angrily.
"Don't you want to use magic like a real wizard?" Solim asked with a slight smile.
"I'll be direct. My younger sister is also a Squib. I want to help her gain the ability to use magic. And you, as a fellow Squib, can help me."
Solim watched Filch carefully.
"Why don't we talk in your office? I have the entire afternoon and evening free. If I were looking for entertainment, I certainly wouldn't choose this, right?"
When Filch first learned he was a Squib, it felt as if the world had lost all color.
He had been born into a pure blood family, yet he could not perform magic.
He had watched others cast spells while enduring the disgust of his family and the ridicule of others.
He had tried everything.
No matter how hard he tried, he could never awaken his magic.
Eventually he gave up.
Following his family's arrangement, he became the caretaker of Hogwarts.
No one cared about Filch.
No one ever showed concern for him.
In more than fifty years of life, he had never had a single friend.
Yet today, a young wizard was offering to help him.
Even if he was nothing more than an experiment to the boy, Filch could not give up such an opportunity.
No matter how slim the chance, he was willing to try.
Because if he could truly become a wizard…
His entire life would be different.
"If I find out you're playing tricks on me…"
Filch's office was a small room lit by an oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. It smelled strongly of fried fish.
Filing cabinets filled with records of student punishments lined the walls.
Looking at the room alone made it clear how low Filch's status was at Hogwarts.
There were countless empty classrooms and unused rooms in the castle that were far more comfortable than this place.
Yet this tiny room was all he had been given.
"Come on, Filch. Time is precious."
Solim opened the package that had arrived earlier that morning.
"Before we begin, Mr. Filch," Solim said while unpacking, "you need to understand something. There are two types of Squibs."
A Squib was someone born into a wizarding family but unable to use magic.
Squibs and Muggles were similar in that neither could perform spells.
But Squibs still possessed magical power.
That was why Squibs could see magical creatures like Dementors that Muggles could not.
However, Squibs were not all the same.
Some lacked magical talent. Their magical power was too weak to trigger a magical outburst during childhood.
Others possessed too much magic.
When a young wizard accumulated too much magical power without becoming an Obscurial, a magical outburst could cause irreversible damage to the body.
In such cases, the body instinctively suppressed the release of magic.
In other words, the magical outburst never occurred.
The first thing Solim needed to determine was which category Filch belonged to.
"Drink this potion, Mr. Filch."
Solim handed him a small vial.
"It's a magical response potion. Drink it and tell me how you feel."
Normally this potion was used to measure the magical power contained in potion ingredients or alchemical materials.
Ordinary witches and wizards could not drink it directly.
But long before arriving at Hogwarts, Solim had asked his grandfather to find a potions master willing to modify it into a version safe for human consumption.
Filch drank the potion without hesitation.
In his mind, only a madman would poison him.
And if something really happened, the boy in front of him would not escape responsibility.
"How do you feel?" Solim asked, pulling a notebook and quill from his robe.
"If you feel nothing, just wait."
For the next two minutes, the two simply stared at each other.
"That's strange," Solim muttered.
"Even the smallest amount of magic should cause some reaction. Unless Filch isn't a Squib at all but a Muggle…"
"Wait," Filch suddenly said.
"I think I feel something."
His eyes widened.
"My body feels like it's soaking in hot water."
Solim immediately rolled up Filch's sleeve.
His skin was flushed and warm to the touch.
"Good. Tell me immediately if anything else changes."
Solim began writing quickly in his notebook.
Filch paced around the room excitedly.
Feeling something was better than feeling nothing.
To him, this was the beginning of gaining magic.
But at Solim's request, he eventually sat down in the room's only chair.
"Mr. Selwyn," Filch said nervously, "I think the heat is fading."
Solim glanced at the large hourglass in the corner.
"Almost thirty minutes. That tells us enough."
He closed his notebook.
"Congratulations, Mr. Filch. You have the best possible case."
"In other words, you may have a chance to stop being a Squib."
Ignoring Filch's excitement, Solim continued.
"When I prepare the necessary materials, I will visit you again."
Solim packed up his things and prepared to leave.
"Mr. Filch, I suggest you begin exercising regularly."
"Even if this works, your body won't survive a magical outburst in its current condition."
Solim planned to contact his grandfather once he returned.
For the next six months his grandfather would remain at the Selwyn family castle.
Unless an emergency occurred, he would stay in the underground laboratory.
But once he resumed his official duties, Solim would no longer be able to contact him.
Solim's request was simple.
Confirm Silna's condition.
If it was the worst case, Solim would need to find another solution.
If her condition matched Filch's, then his grandfather should try to locate more Squibs with the same condition to study possible differences.
The massive book Solim had been reading had been copied directly from the Selwyn family archives by his grandfather.
It was less a book and more a compilation of research notes.
It contained studies and treatments for curses, transformation injuries, spell damage, and rare magical illnesses.
Unfortunately, it had no table of contents.
Solim had to read it page by page.
Research on Squibs was extremely rare, which made his work even harder.
Still, Solim was fortunate.
Within that chaotic collection of research notes, he discovered a very detailed study on Squibs.
It included a method for restoring magical ability.
But there was one problem.
The researcher had written clearly that the method had never been tested.
Most Squibs were born with insufficient magical power.
And that problem had no solution.
Filch's condition was different.
He possessed enough magical power but had never experienced a magical outburst.
Solim needed to confirm which condition his sister had before proceeding.
Until today, Solim had never known how long it took for an owl to travel between Hogwarts and the Isle of Man.
Now he knew.
Less than an hour after lunch he had sent a letter.
And by dinner time he had already received his grandfather's reply.
His grandfather had confirmed something incredible.
Silna's condition was the same as Filch's.
However, he could not guarantee that he would be able to find another Squib with the same condition.
There was also a problem regarding the potion required for the experiment.
The potions master his grandfather had previously worked with had returned to active duty.
He would not be available for at least six months.
Other potions masters might also be unavailable depending on their assignments.
If none of them were free…
Solim would have to find another solution.
Fortunately, Hogwarts already had a potions master.
And he was very famous.