"Brilliant!"
Harry had been looking forward to Hogsmeade weekend for ages.
But he quickly shut up. Almost without thinking, he looked at the black-haired boy still reading seriously beside him. Sean didn't seem bothered at all that he couldn't go to Hogsmeade.
Harry saw the worry on everyone's faces, and his throat tightened.
"Sean, you... really..."
Sean looked up. The sky-blue quill stopped moving over the parchment.
The copy of The Theory of Potion Will Professor Snape had asked for was finally complete.
Refined rituals, will-strengthening methods, will-guidance methods...
In the end, Sean and Professor Snape had completed magical rituals for seven potions in total.
Even Master Libatius Borage had only refined that many across his entire life.
But it was precisely because of his efforts that Sean had been able to glimpse the hidden door to the mysteries of potions.
Master Borage's note had gone unusually quiet. It had been a long time since any new words had appeared on it.
Even now, the parchment still bore that single line:
[My efforts gave the past a future.]
"We can't just leave Sean here in the castle alone when he's only in third year,"
Ron said.
"Go ask Professor Flitwick, Sean. He likes you so much—"
"Sorry, Ron, but I don't think this is something Professor Flitwick gets to decide,"
Justin said gently in objection. He looked at Sean, then secretly glanced up at the High Table.
At the High Table, Dumbledore's pointed hat was decorated with flowers, and Professor Flitwick had just told him a joke. He was laughing happily.
To one side, Professor Snape sat there with a dark expression, occasionally glancing down. Not a single student dared meet his eyes.
"That doesn't seem right..."
Justin murmured.
"What?"
Hermione's ears twitched, and she immediately asked.
"Oh, I mean, Black isn't an idiot. He wouldn't just go charging into Hogsmeade. Maybe Sean could persuade..."
Justin thought for a moment, then sighed quietly again.
"No, he probably wouldn't be able to persuade..."
"Persuade who?"
Hermione frowned. She was more and more convinced Justin knew something, so she pressed the question.
"Professor McGonagall!"
Harry cut in suddenly.
"Oh, Harry, have you lost your mind? Sean's in Ravenclaw."
Ron reached out and touched Harry's forehead.
Harry's throat locked up, and he didn't dare say anything.
For some reason, he thought back to the first day of third year, to how unusually affectionate Professor McGonagall had been.
Only Justin looked stricken. He shot Harry a startled glance, his eyes practically trembling, then sank into thought.
"Sean."
Justin suddenly leaned a little closer.
Hermione was busy grilling Harry about Professor McGonagall, while Ron and Neville listened with great interest.
That gave Justin a chance to speak to Sean alone.
"Are you planning to go to Hogsmeade?"
Justin asked in a low voice.
"Yes."
After a brief pause, Sean nodded.
Leaving the castle was part of the plan.
If he couldn't go openly, then he would have to...
"Then that's easy!"
Justin smiled at once.
"What?"
Before Sean could ask, the moment was interrupted.
"Ow!"
Ron suddenly roared, snatching up his schoolbag. Crookshanks had sunk all four claws into it and was clawing furiously.
"Get off, you stupid beast!"
Ron tried to yank the bag away, but Crookshanks clung stubbornly, snarling and tearing at it.
"Ron, don't hurt him!"
Hermione screamed.
Half the Great Hall had turned to watch.
Ron swung the bag in a circle, but Crookshanks still wouldn't let go. Then Scabbers shot out of the mouth of the bag—
"Catch that cat!"
Ron yelled. At that moment Crookshanks dropped the bag, shot to the far end of the table, and started chasing the terrified Scabbers.
George lunged for Crookshanks and missed.
Scabbers streaked between twenty pairs of legs and vanished under an old chest of drawers at the edge of the hall.
Crookshanks skidded to a stop, crouched low on his bowed legs, and started scrabbling furiously under the drawers with both front paws.
Ron and Hermione rushed over.
Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and pulled him away.
Ron dropped to the floor and, after some effort, managed to drag Scabbers out by the tail.
"Look at him!"
He held Scabbers up in front of Hermione and snapped angrily,
"He's skin and bone! Keep that cat away from him!"
"Crookshanks doesn't know it's wrong!"
Hermione said, her voice shaking.
"Cats chase rats, Ron!"
"That beast's not normal!"
Ron said as he tried to coax the violently squirming Scabbers back into his pocket.
"It heard me say Scabbers was in my bag!"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous,"
Hermione said impatiently.
"Crookshanks can smell him, Ron. Do you really think—"
"That cat is obsessed with Scabbers!"
Ron ignored the snickering all around them.
"Scabbers was here first, and he's sick!"
Then Ron stormed out of the Great Hall and headed upstairs.
Harry followed him.
Hermione huffed, then left with Neville too.
Sean and Justin withdrew their gazes.
"There's something wrong with Scabbers?"
Justin suddenly asked.
"The boss said Crookshanks has Kneazle blood. Magical creatures like that can tell good from bad, and they have a gift for tracking and guiding."
His eyes locked on Sean.
"Yes. Scabbers is probably not an ordinary rat."
Sean said.
"Then Ron..."
Justin looked worried, but then seemed to remember something.
"Oh, right, Sean. If you want to get to Hogsmeade, just say so."
The dungeon.
Every now and then, thick bubbles rose in a cauldron. Even the afternoon sunlight always seemed to avoid this underground classroom.
"Impedimenta!"
A crisp voice rang out through the empty dungeon, and the bees flying through the air froze in place in an instant.
[You practiced the Impediment Jinx once at Master standard. Proficiency +300]
Sean lowered his wand.
Watching the bees slow to what looked like a near stop, he could clearly feel the change that came with Dark Magic reaching Master rank.
Take the Impediment Jinx, for example. It had actually created a small field of hindrance.
And then there was the Full Body-Bind Curse...
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Sean pointed his wand at the rats on the desk. Only one should have been frozen—but three of them ended up completely motionless.
The Body-Bind had... branched out?
And then there was the Blasting Curse.
"Reducto!"
Sean's eyes sharpened.
Where his wand was aimed, it was like a small explosion had gone off. A chair and the kettle sitting on it were both reduced to dust.
The Blasting Curse, as a curse, could destroy solid obstacles, but it could not make liquid or gas explode, and it usually only targeted a single object.
But now, Sean seemed to be affecting a small area.
Once Dark Magic reached a new threshold, all of its power seemed to receive a sudden boost.
Sean didn't know whether that enhancement reached the spell's core nature, but it was clearly overflowing with power enough to affect a whole area.
Then what about beyond Master—Legend?
What kind of transformation would that bring to magic?
Sean didn't know, but he had to reach it.
Master corresponded to professor-level combat strength, but both Headmaster Dumbledore and Voldemort had long since surpassed ordinary professors in certain fields.
Sean had every reason to believe that, in some magical branches, the two of them had already reached Legend.
Which meant that if he wanted to defeat Voldemort, he needed to push at least two magical disciplines to Legendary rank.
The quill began scratching rapidly across the parchment.
It was faithfully recording the data—
pronunciation, gestures, magical force...
Sean looked down at the parchment, but his attention was elsewhere.
[Wizard Sean, Dark Magic Talent: Gold (enhanced by the title "Dark Magic Saint"). Note: the average wizard is Green.]
[Evaluation: You are a historically rare genius in the field of Dark Magic. Dark Magic actively embraces you. You are a born king of Dark Magic.]
[Impediment Jinx: Master (3000/?)
Full Body-Bind Curse: Master (2100/?)
Sectumsempra: Master (2700/?)
Blasting Curse: Master (600/?)
Exploding Charm: Master (500/?)
Knockback Jinx: Master (500/?)
Fiendfyre: Expert (29900/30000)...]
[Advance: Seven Master-level Dark Magic spells can unlock a Master-tier title in the field of Dark Magic (6/7)]
"Not... bad."
Snape's hoarse voice echoed through the dungeon. His eyes narrowed, and he raised his wand.
"Fiendfyre, Green."
Fiendfyre was far too powerful, which was why Sean always had to practice it under the watch of a true master of Dark Magic.
There weren't many objects left in the dungeon anymore—only some broken junk Professor Snape had deliberately left behind.
Sean raised his wand and focused on the space ahead.
A small flame sprang to life and rapidly climbed over cheap magical ingredients, cabinets, and discarded debris...
His face suddenly went pale as he forced the Fiendfyre under control, forcing down the violent current of thought rising inside him.
That was probably the hardest part of Dark Magic.
Just as Bellatrix had once said:
"The Cruciatus Curse—you have to mean it, boy! You have to really want to cause pain—and enjoy it! Righteous anger won't hurt me for long..."
Dark Magic required the cruelty inside a wizard's heart as fuel. That was one of the ways it corroded the wizard from within.
Without something close to inhuman cruelty of will, powerful Dark Magic simply could not be wielded.
So loss of control became almost synonymous with powerful Dark Magic.
How do you draw upon cruel belief without being devoured by it?
That was the problem every Dark wizard had to face.
So then—was there a way to make Dark Magic no longer cruel?
If ancient wizards could create cruel systems of belief and, from them, powerful ancient magic, then modern wizards should be able to refine that as well.
Rebuild Order.
That was the path Sean was exploring, and it had become the key to why his Dark Magic had advanced so quickly in the later stages.
[You practiced Fiendfyre once at Master standard. Proficiency +300]
[A new domain has been entered]
Sean focused sharply on the message. It was the second time he had seen that prompt.
At that moment, the panel changed completely. It drew in all his attention and turned black.
One second. Two. Three...
Then, in the darkness, a wand appeared.
It was black from end to end, but when light flowed over it, deep purple and dark red patterns seemed to flicker beneath the surface.
Sean tensed at once. Of course he knew it—this was his wand, made of elder wood and phoenix tail feather.
Images flowed across its shadow:
the first time he had used the Impediment Jinx to stop bees, the first time he used Knockback to catch a falling squirrel, the first time he used Fiendfyre to destroy a Horcrux...
Then a line of heavy words appeared, inscribed with mysterious patterns:
[After crossing the abyss, dominion is attained]
[Dark Magic has opened its gates. The hall forged by glory awaits the arrival of Legend—]
[Master-rank ascent path unlocked]
[Once the climb begins, Master is no longer the limit]
[Panel upgraded]
Sean stood there in stunned silence, then looked down with rising excitement.
[Title: Dark Magic Heir]
[Greatly increases control and creativity in all Dark Magic]
Control had increased?
That made sense—he had even expected something like that.
But what did "creativity" mean?
Sean felt a flicker of understanding.
Throughout his study of Dark Magic, he had never surrendered himself to cruelty.
He had even rebuilt parts of its Order, trying not to drown in its violent power.
In rebuilding that Order, he had even created spells of his own—like the Lightburst Charm.
It seemed that he could... bring entirely new changes to Dark Magic.
[Master-tier Dark Magic classification:
Impediment Jinx: Apprentice (3/30)
Full Body-Bind Curse: Apprentice (3/30)
Sectumsempra: Apprentice (3/30)
Blasting Curse: Apprentice (1/30)
Exploding Charm: Apprentice (1/30)
Knockback Jinx: Apprentice (1/30)
Fiendfyre: Apprentice (0/30)]
[Evaluation: Wizards who reach Master rank in the field of Dark Magic usually have combat strength under five—but that seems to be only the surface...]
Combat strength under five.
Sean saw that familiar evaluation again. He was used to it by now.
When Transfiguration had reached Master, the panel had said something similar.
But that was only the surface...
Sean knew what the panel was hinting at, but he had no desire to embrace that sort of creed.
...After all, vile men often get the fastest pass.
"Excellent... excellent..."
Only after the violent Fiendfyre had devoured everything in sight did the firelight finally die down in Snape's eyes.
His face remained expressionless, but his mood was obviously quite good as he gave that brief assessment. Then he looked at the re-energized young wizard, a trace of puzzlement flickering through his mind—
before it was almost immediately buried beneath an inexplicably positive feeling.
"You should go, Green."
Snape said.
"Professor..."
Sean stopped mid-step. He had to get to Hogsmeade somehow, and Justin's method was simply...
"May I go to Hogsmeade?"
Sean asked quietly.
Professor Snape's cold face froze instantly. He stared at the young wizard as though doubting whether he had seen correctly.
"What did you say?"
Snape asked in a dark, dangerous tone.
Sean fell silent. Apparently, Justin's method had failed.
"Sorry, Professor."
Sean said.
"Heh—you'd better know your place, Green—"
Snape's face grew strangely stiff, and a thought surfaced in his mind before he could stop it.
—It seemed this was the first time...
"Go, Green. Go buy something idiotic and take part in some idiotic activity."
Snape let out a cold laugh.
The instant the words left his mouth, his expression froze as if he didn't believe he had actually said them.
"Thank you, Professor."
Even Sean was surprised.
When he reached the dungeon entrance, Sir Cadogan blocked his path.
"Good afternoon, Sir."
Sean greeted him.
"Outrageous. Simply outrageous."
Sir Cadogan lounged across his horse with loud, heroic ease, laughing grandly.
"Progress again, is it? Of course it is. Off you go, little Green, off you go."
Only after the young wizard had gone did Sir Cadogan lower his voice and say to Violet,
"See? That thing wants the whole soul handed over—all of it, along with the bad habits, the little temper, the flickering moods, all eighteen hundred wretched flaws.
It's utterly unbearable. But there's one thing about it that's true."
"What is it, Sir?"
Lady Violet asked from within her long gown.
"Unconditional love."
Sir Cadogan chuckled.
~~~