There Is No Magic in the Magic Academy

Harry Potter World View I was imprisoned in a magical "magic school" - the first rule of the school was that the use of magic was prohibited. Our magic wands are tree branches picked up in the park, and their only purpose is to do broadcast gymnastics; our practical class is to run 800 meters, which is euphemistically called "exercising spellcasting concentration." We are like a group of sheep in captivity, playing this ridiculous imitation game day after day. Until two British men in ceremonial robes appeared in the middle of the playground with door keys and pierced the emperor's new clothes. When they were angry at being fooled and ready to abandon this magical desert forever, I stood up. At the same time, far away in Azkaban, a dark wizard comparable to Voldemort regained his freedom, and the world's illusion of peace was about to be torn apart. They need a genius who can break the rules, an ally who can turn the tide, and a destined savior. I held the magic wand belonging to the strong man and shocked the whole audience with a "shattering to pieces". He asked me: "Kid? Do you want to go to Hogwarts with me?"