Chapter 269: Teaching
Now, everything in the original book had been disrupted. Sirius Black had been released from Azkaban ahead of schedule, the Horcruxes destroyed early, the Dark Lord resurrected prematurely, and Harry had chosen to strengthen his power. Dumbledore was still alive and, likely, would not go quietly into death this time.
Given these changes, Phineas couldn't help but ask—how could the Dark Lord possibly succeed? In the original tale, Dumbledore had died, Snape had perished, and Harry, despite not being particularly powerful, still defeated Voldemort through a combination of sacrifice and clever manipulation by Dumbledore. But now, with a far stronger protagonist group, Phineas didn't believe any accidents would happen.
It had been a few days since they arrived at Nicolas's home.
Harry's behavior had changed noticeably. He no longer spent his days lounging with Ron, but instead devoted himself fully to studying magic and combat.
Phineas, too, had changed. Gone was the gentle mentor; in his place stood a strict instructor who demanded discipline.
Seeing this change, Sirius had tried to talk Phineas into easing up, but Phineas refused.
"Harry," Phineas said seriously, "if you want to learn to fight, you can't limit yourself to one category of magic—especially not dark magic, which often dominates in duels."
Harry looked startled. What Phineas said went against everything he'd been taught. He opened his mouth, ready to argue, but couldn't find the words.
Phineas smiled. "Do you think everyone who uses dark magic is a dark wizard? Or that using dark magic makes someone evil? Those are misunderstandings—truths only meant for the average young wizard. In many pure-blood families, the view of dark magic is very different."
"Using dark magic doesn't make one a dark wizard, and not all dark wizards are skilled in dark magic. Your misconceptions exist because the Ministry of Magic enforces them. Hogwarts doesn't oppose the Ministry. It simply doesn't correct them."
He paused, then continued in a quieter tone, "Here's something interesting: dark magic is not inherently evil, and evil spells aren't always classified as dark. The Fiendfyre and Corruption Curses aren't considered dark magic, while the Stunning Spell, Legilimency, Gladness Charm, and Obliviate are—commonly used spells with clear dark aspects. Isn't that strange?"
"But the Ministry of Magic won't tell you this," Phineas continued. "In their classification system, any spell with significant destructive potential is labeled as dark magic—regardless of its actual moral implications. It's not about good or evil; it's about control. The Ministry needs to maintain absolute authority, so it benefits them when the average wizard is discouraged from learning powerful spells."
"Only ancient families who've studied magic in its purest form, and those who've lived outside the Ministry's jurisdiction, understand the true nature of dark magic. For everyone else, the less lethal magic they master, the easier they are to govern."
"That's why spells like the Fiendfyre Curse are designated as dark magic—while things like the Stunning Spell or even Legilimency are considered harmless. It's absurd, isn't it?"
Just then, Dumbledore appeared from the house.
"Phineas," he said sternly, "you shouldn't be telling Harry these things."
Phineas shrugged. "He'll learn eventually, Professor. He's a pure-blood and has the right to inherit the Potter family's seat on the Wizengamot. If the other pure-blood children can know these things, so can Harry."
Dumbledore frowned. He had almost forgotten—Harry wasn't just some common Muggle-born student. He had grown up in the Muggle world, yes, but he had the bloodline and legacy of a powerful magical family.
Looking at Harry's friends, Dumbledore saw the pattern clearly. Ron came from the well-established Weasley family, representing traditional pure-blood values. Neville, from the respected Longbottom family, stood between old blood and the modern world. Hermione was supposed to complete the trio as a Muggle-born Gryffindor to bridge the two worlds. But because of Phineas, she had been sorted into Ravenclaw. Dumbledore could hardly manipulate a young girl to serve his larger plans.
And now, Phineas's influence was shifting Harry toward the ideology of the ancient families. Unfortunately, Dumbledore had no just cause to stop it. Phineas's arguments were airtight.
Why should Harry lag behind his peers simply because he was raised differently?
Sighing, Dumbledore returned inside to join Nicolas.
Phineas turned back to Harry. "The most notable trait of dark magic is that it affects emotion, memory, and the soul. These also define the three realms of wizarding mastery. When young wizards begin training, they first learn emotional control—the Patronus Charm is the benchmark. Those who can cast it are usually considered adult wizards."
As he spoke, Phineas drew his wand with his right hand and made a slow, precise circle in the air. A silvery mist flowed from the tip, gathering and shaping itself into a silver-white kitten that leapt gracefully into the air and began circling him playfully.
"This charm is more useful than people give it credit for," Phineas said. "Your most important task this holiday is to master it. Now, let's return to the matter of magical advancement."
"Mastery over memory-related magic—Legilimency, Occlumency, and Memory Charms—is one of the key indicators that a wizard has reached the level of a true master. And when one's magical reserves are deep enough to cast spells freely, instinctively, that wizard is recognized as great."
"Above them stand the legendary witches and wizards—like Professor Dumbledore, or even Voldemort. What sets them apart is their ability to manipulate the soul directly. Voldemort, for instance, prolonged his life through Horcruxes—a crude but powerful branch of soul magic. At that level, even the simplest spells can become devastating."
"The reason I'm telling you this," Phineas said, meeting Harry's eyes, "is because I want you to understand the nature of magic—especially dark magic. Don't be afraid of using it. That said, avoid the three Unforgivable Curses if you can. They don't just have legal consequences—they affect the soul. The Killing Curse, in particular, leaves a permanent scar on the caster's essence. It can make reaching the level of a legendary wizard far more difficult."
"Of course," he added with a faint smile, "if you choose to walk the path of a dark wizard, then that cost might not matter to you. But the true distinction between dark and light magic lies not in the spell itself, but in its intent, its effect, and the state of the soul. Even now, I only have a shallow understanding of that essence—so I won't pretend to lecture you on it."
With that, he clapped again. "Let's begin training. I'll teach you only what I believe you need. Standard spells—learn those at school."
"When learning combat magic, we start with the Disarming Charm. You'll need to change how you grip your wand. Your current grip makes your spells strong but slow. In duels, speed matters."
He raised his wand. "Watch my grip. This works for me—but observe Dumbledore, Nicolas, and Flitwick too. They don't hold their wands the conventional way. You must find what suits you."
"Now, about the Disarming Charm. Gesture: an inverted L. Spell: Expelliarmus. No emotion or elaborate technique required—just a firm heart and intent."
Phineas turned and faced a training dummy.
"Expelliarmus!"
A flash of red burst from his wand. The stick in the dummy's hand flew toward him. He caught it with ease.
"The key is speed. In a duel, the first spell often decides the winner. You must eventually cast this silently—and even wandlessly, if possible."
He turned and walked back inside.
It was time for morning tea. He'd join Nicolas and Dumbledore to chat and discuss alchemical theories. It was pleasant work.
Harry, meanwhile, remained in the yard, casting Expelliarmus over and over at the dummy.
Though the training was exhausting and repetitive, Harry found satisfaction in his progress. In just a few days, Phineas's intensive teaching had transformed him from a clueless boy raised in the Muggle world into a knowledgeable young wizard—almost indistinguishable from a child raised in a magical family. He still lacked the manners and social finesse of such families, but Sirius would handle that in time.
Phineas had covered seven years' worth of Hogwarts theory in just a few days. From the wizarding world's political structure to magical geography, potions, and alchemical tools, Harry's head was bursting with information.
"Phineas, you shouldn't have told Harry about the Dark Arts," Dumbledore said as Phineas joined him on the veranda.
Phineas shrugged, taking a slow sip of tea. "Professor, even fledglings must leave the nest. And what I shared is just 'common sense'—accessible to anyone willing to learn. You can't expect Harry to defeat the Dark Lord with a Disarming Charm, a Blasting Hex, and Snape's Sharp Edge. He needs stronger magic—like the Patronus Charm, or even Fiendfyre. If necessary, I'll pass on my Transfiguration knowledge."
Dumbledore was momentarily speechless. Then he sighed. "Perhaps you're right. I'll share some of my own experience with him in Transfiguration later."
But Phineas shook his head. "You're better suited to guiding his moral compass, Professor. Teach him the principles of life. I'll handle the spells. Once he's mastered the basics, I'll move on to advanced Transfiguration."
"After all, Transfiguration takes time and imagination. It's invaluable in battle once mastered—but what Harry lacks most now… is time."