Arch Mage, the Path of Magic Chapter 41

Hey friends and fans, Kairomaru is here with another chapter of Arch Mage, the Path of Magic! In the wake of the Second Task, many people got to see Harry’s magical power. Such great power, especially in one so young, prompts significant reactions from others. While many of those reactions are positive, Harry is the Boy-Who-lived and already a High Sorcerer, there will always be negative reactions to such revelations as well. In extreme cases of negativity, the reaction may be those that hide in the dark stirring and accelerating their own plans.

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So, without further delay, please enjoy.

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Chapter 41 – Task Reactions and Dark Stirrings

It had been five days since the Second Task, it was an ordinary first of March at Hogwarts, the weather was getting drier and strong winds blew through the Scottish Highlands. The winds nearly cut into those that walked on the grounds of Hogwarts instead of staying inside. Even mail owls were arriving in the Great Hall in the mornings looking disheveled with some of their feathers out of place.

Harry, Hermione, Fleur, Daphne, Astoria, and Tracy were sitting at the Ravenclaw table eating breakfast together, as had become commonplace nowadays. Their inter-House group had even inspired some others to start mixing within Hogwarts as well, as there was some blue and bronze as well as red and gold at the Hufflepuff table and some black and yellow at both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables.

“Hello, little one.” Harry greeted another windswept owl as it landed on the table in front of his plate and held out its leg. “Thank you.” He thanked the owl—after relieving it of the letter it carried—for making the trip in the high winds by levitating some ham to the barn owl and watching the bird snatch the meat up quickly. After a few pieces, the barn owl flew off towards the owlery to rest from its harsh flight. “Looks like another one.” Harry mused as he waved his hand over the letter, checking for any spells, potions, or poisons on the parchment. Finding nothing, Harry looked at the envelope and it opened under the will of his magic so that he could pull out the letter inside.

Daphne looked at the back of the letter as Harry read it. “Another request for a sponsorship, Harry?” Such requests had come in from almost every business imaginable since the Second Task when Harry demonstrated his incredible power.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he read the letter. “This one at least makes some sense. It’s from an apothecary that specializes in stamina tonics, restoration draughts, and the like.”

“All potions that help one recover from fatigue and use of magic.” Daphne nodded, already knowing the types of things such potions often promised those that bought them; often unverified claims of being able to cast more powerful spells or becoming more magically powerful if the customer drank their specific potion after an intense bout of spellcasting. “I’m sure having the youngest High Sorcerer ever—that also split the Black Lake in two—claiming to be a regular user of their potions would see them selling out in short order.”

Astoria snorted out a cute laugh. “So, they want Harry to lie for them?”

Tracy snickered and nodded at Astoria. “Sounds like it.”

“Not interested.” Harry burned the parchment to ashes and then vanished them before they could land on the table.

Hermione shook her head once with a grin, her bushy hair swaying behind her, drawing Harry and Fleur’s eyes as it often did. “It’s very disingenuous of them to try to have Harry corroborate their lies about their products.”

“It’s not uncommon.” Fleur said with a little grin before she took a sip of pumpkin juice. Setting the goblet down, she smiled at Hermione. “You should experiment with multiple hairstyles, Hermione. Your hair is normally so bouncy and soft, and you looked amazing at the Yule Ball. I think we’d all love to see you in other hairstyles too.”

“My hair?” Hermione gently ran her fingers through her bushy locks. “It’s nothing special…” She looked off to the side a little. “It took plenty of Sleekeazy’s to make it like it was at the ball…” Hermione said with a cute little blush on her cheeks.

Daphne grinned at Hermione. “And it looked amazing, Hermione. A girl should have fun trying out new styles from time to time.” She encouraged her friend with a little smile.

“She’s not wrong.” Tracy smiled brightly at Hermione. “I use Sleekeazy’s too, you know?” She shook her head a little sending her semi-long hair swaying this way and that. “Sometimes my hair gets too frizzy and I don’t like how it looks, so a little Sleekeazy’s helps out.”

“I think you’d look cute, Hermione.” Luna said with a smile as she ate her scrambled eggs that had been shaped like a castle. “If you do your hair, will you help me do mine too?”

Hermione couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “I guess I could try some things.”

As the chatting over breakfast continued, the meal ended and everyone headed towards their classes. Fleur headed for the Beauxbatons carriage after sharing a kiss with Harry, and leaving a kiss on Hermione’s cheek, making the other girl blush cutely. Astoria and Luna hugged everyone before taking off for their own classes, chatting to each other as they were heading towards the same floor. Hermione, Harry, Tracy, and Daphne all headed down to the dungeons since their first class for today was Potions.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside of the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson are her gaggle of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something between them and sniggering amongst themselves. Pansy’s pug-like face peered around Goyle’s broad back with visible excitement as she noticed the approach of Harry, Hermione, Tracy, and especially Daphne. Within Slytherin House it was no secret that Pansy had a strong dislike of Daphne; a mix of envy and an inferiority complex when she compared herself to Daphne Greengrass.

“There they are, there they are!” Pansy giggled as the group of Slytherins broke up and all eyes turned to Harry, Daphne, Tracy, and Hermione. Pansy had a magazine in her hands—the newest copy of Witch Weekly—with the moving picture on the front showing a curly-haired witch smiling while pointing her wand at a sponge cake on a plate she was holding. “You might find something interesting in here, Greengrass!” Pansy tossed the copy of Witch Weekly towards Daphne, who caught it with two fingers, not wanting to touch something that might be the delivery vector for a prank of some kind.

When nothing happened, Daphne raised a single delicate eyebrow and looked at the center pages, which the magazine had naturally opened up to as it flew through the air. Looking at the magazine, the first thing that Daphne noticed was a color picture of Harry right next to the headline of the center page piece.

Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache

A boy like no other, perhaps—yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence -writes Rita Skeeter. Having tragically lost his parents as an infant, fourteen year old Harry Potter seems to be searching for the love that he was deprived of growing up.

It’s well-known within Hogwarts that young Harry is dating multiple girls, including Muggle-born Hermione Granger, the Veela Beauxbatons Champion Fleur Delacour, and Pureblood Daphne Greengrass. While nothing legally says that young Harry cannot pursue multiple love interests, some might wonder as to Mr. Potter’s ‘tastes’.

The Veela witch, Fleur Delacour, having demonstrated her own magical prowess in the Triwizard Tournament, seems to have ensnared the young Mr. Potter years ago at the Under 17 Dueling Circuit, according to anonymous sources, when such a relationship would be rather improper. While this writer wouldn’t make any such assumptions, it is well-known that many Veela use their inborn abilities to ensnare well-off wizards to their will. Some might wonder if young Harry may not have fallen to the same fate.

Then there’s Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, who seems to have latched onto Mr. Potter recently. Some might wonder how such a regular girl could’ve attracted the attention of the Boy-Who-Lived. A bit of investigation by this writer has brought to light a possible answer beyond Miss Granger’s doubtful natural charms.

“She’s really ugly,” Says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, “but she’d be well up to making a Love Potion, she’s quite brainy. I think that’s how she’s doing it.”

Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. After all, young Harry shouldn’t be strung around under the effects of a Love Potion, if such a thing truly is happening.

Then, there’s the pitiable Daphne Greengrass, a young pureblood girl that seems to be truly smitten with Mr. Potter, having been his chosen date to the Yule Ball at Hogwarts this year. Even with young Harry choosing her over all others, it seems her natural charms and genuine affection maybe be losing out to the devious actions of Miss Delacour and Miss Granger. Some might think that Miss Greengrass is being strung along, being as young and naïve as she is, even as she struggles to uphold propriety and maintain magical traditions and standards expected of a young lady like herself.

This writer will, of course, continue to look into these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter’s well-wishers must hope that, in the near future, he bestows his heart onto a proper candidate.

“Is this really the best that Skeeter’s infamous ‘poisonous quill’ can do?” Daphne scoffed as the article, with Tracy, Harry, and Hermione reading over her shoulders. “She seems to be losing her touch.”

Hermione actually giggled at the accusations against her. “Leave it to Skeeter to not even mention actual facts.” Harry had been her friend since their first year, there was nothing ‘recent’ about their friendship. Even their relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend had been going on for a while now. “Nice interview, Parkinson; did it feel good to get your name in a magazine for lying?” She looked at Pansy with an almost mocking grin.

Tracy snickered at the affronted and then angry look on Pansy’s face as the other girls entire faced burned red in anger that her attempt to humiliate Daphne for ‘losing’ Harry to a Veela and a Muggle-born. “What a load of rubbish!”

The door of the Potions classroom opened and Snape stood in the doorway for only a moment before speaking. “Inside.” He snapped before turning on his heel, his black robes billowing behind him.

As the student began to file into the classroom, Daphne subtly pulled her wand and used some of her knowledge of the Healing Arts in a manner decidedly against how they were meant to be used. Pansy, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle would all be suffering from a sudden and intense bout of rashes that rapidly spread over their skin as their bodies tried to fight off an infection that wasn’t there. The best part of her subtle revenge was that no spell would fix what she’d done, only a regiment of potions from Madam Pomfrey would clear up the rashes over a few days. With a satisfied little smirk on her lips, Daphne returned her wand to its proper place and entered the classroom near the end of the line of students.

“Quite a malicious use of what you’ve been studying.” Harry whispered to Daphne as he sat between her and Hermione while Snape waved his wand and the recipe for the Wit-Sharpening Potion appeared on the board.

Daphne looked at Harry, her eyes gazing into his before she spoke. “Magic can be benevolent or malevolent.” Then her eyes widened as she finally put into words what she’d been trying to interpret for longer than she’d like to admit. “Magic is malevolence and benevolence.”

Harry’s little smile at Daphne’s sudden realization, or perhaps epiphany, was warm as he mulled over what his girlfriend had said to him. “I think I like your interpretation of magic, Daphne.”

Hermione looked over at Daphne in surprise. “Did you just?”

“I think so?” Daphne blinked once before a small smile spread across her face. “Yeah, I did. I found my own interpretation of magic.”

“Now all that’s left is to start exploring magic through your interpretation and, if you want, eventually figure out your ‘right question’.” Harry said with an amused grin.

“Fascinating though your social lives no doubt are,” Snape’s icy cold voice said from behind the three students. “I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Ravenclaw.” He punished Ravenclaw House, ignoring Daphne’s involvement as to not take points from his own House. It was the first time since Harry had become Champion that he’d deigned to even attend Potions, so the greasy Potions Professor was finally able to target his festering resentment on Harry after months. Snape’s cold eyes landed on the Witch Weekly lying on the side of the table and snatched it up. “Ah…reading magazines during class as well? Another ten points from Ravenclaw.” He said as he opened the copy of Witch Weekly to the center page and saw Harry’s picture, his eyes glittering coldly. “Oh, but of course… Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings…” He nearly sneered at Harry as he looked over Skeeter’s article while walking towards the middle of the dungeon classroom.

More than a few of the Slytherins laughed at Snape’s comment against Harry. The slight smirk that curled Snape’s lips gave away that he was going to continue with his petty bullying of Harry. Even though Harry showed no reaction as Snape began reading the article aloud for the entire classroom to hear.

“Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache…dear, dear, Potter, what’s ailing you now?” Snape questioned with a notable lack of concern or care. “A boy like no other, perhaps…” Most of the Slytherins were laughing by now as Snape read through the article, though it didn’t seem to faze Harry in the slightest, and even Hermione and Daphne were only slightly red in the face from annoyance, rather than embarrassment. “Harry Potter’s well-wishers must hope that, in the near future, he bestows his heart onto a proper candidate. How very touching…” Snape sneered at Harry directly, seeming to have finally found an outlet for all of his petty malice as he rolled up the magazine. “Perhaps I should separate you three, so that you can focus on your potions, rather than your tangled love lives?” Not getting the reaction he wanted from Harry—the youngest High Sorcerer ever just looking at Snape unconcerned—the Potions Professor pushed a bit more. “Well, Potter, nothing to say about all of this?”

“All of ‘this’ is called having a romantic relationship. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.” Harry said with the tiniest of grins as the laughter of the Slytherins stopped instantly and Snape’s sneer dropped as he looked at Harry in stunned surprise for all of a moment before glaring hatefully at the teenager.

“One-hundred points from Ravenclaw, for your cheek, Potter!” Snape snarled at Harry, hearing quiet snickers from some of the Ravenclaws in the dungeon classroom. “Greengrass, remain at this table. Granger, move next to Miss Parkinson. Potter…the table in front of my desk. Move. Now.”

Harry stood up, had all of his things back themselves up with barely a thought, and then stood up from his stool without changing his expression. “No thanks, Professor. Think I’ll leave class a bit early, what with being the Hogwarts Champion and all that.” He walked past Snape, not giving the dour Professor any more attention than one might give to someone handing out fliers on the sidewalk.

Snape, unable to let such ‘disrespect’ go, immediately shot back with a retort. “All this press attention seems to have inflated your already over-large head, Potter.” When Harry didn’t even slow his stride, Snape’s words became even more pointed. “You might be laboring under the delusion that the entire magical world is impressed with you, but I don’t care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me, Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him.”

“Fascinating, Professor.” Harry turned and looked at Snape over his shoulder. “But don’t worry, I can always do something else to have the entire magical world be impressed with me again.” The subtle barb in Harry’s words was lost on some of the students, while others stared at Harry in shock that he’d say that directly to Snape’s face. “In fact, I think I’ll get my Potions Mastery this summer. Youngest Potions Master in history should impress a fair few people, I believe.” With his promise to break Snape’s record and take the title of ‘Youngest Potions Master’ in history from the greasy, dour man, Harry left the dungeon classroom without looking back.

Snape was left enraged; his anger, resentment, and embarrassment at having been thoroughly patronized in front of the classroom full of students, but in such a way that nothing that Harry had said could be construed as an actual insult, left him with no way to retort. He stewed in his festering emotions before nearly stomping towards the front of the room and then vanishing into the large potions supply room and slamming the door behind him.

Knowing that Snape likely wouldn’t be back until near the end of class, Hermione and Daphne didn’t bother moving as they were told and simply worked together to brew their Wit-Sharpening Potion. Both of them turned in a sample each before class had even officially ended and spent the rest of the time cleaning up their table and packing their things.

-Voldemort’s Safehouse-

The Dark Lord nearly snarled again, his red eyes filled with rage as he once more went over the memory that Barty had provided him of Harry Potter’s display of power during the Second Task. He’d seen it dozens of times by now, but couldn’t believe the power that he’d seen demonstrated by a mere boy.

More like he didn’t WANT to acknowledge it. Or that he COULDN’T as his superiority complex would never let him admit that someone was superior to him. At least not consciously…though the thought had already burrowed deep into his subconscious by now.

“It seems that Harry Potter is rising to challenge me.” Voldemort nearly hissed out in his anger. In his mind that could be the only reason that Harry would possibly reach the level of magical prowess that he had at such a young age. “The prophecy that Severus brought to me is proving true.” He looked over the several items and materials that he’d had his subordinates gather, Barty proving again and again to be his most faithful and competent Death Eater. “Perhaps a bit of practice is in order before I perform my own ritual.” He consulted the ancient and worn tomes that Yaxley had smuggled out of the Ministry for him, his red eyes looking over various brittle pages filled with ancient script and diagrams.

 Placing the bones of a human skeleton on the ground, within a ritual circle drawn with the same skeleton’s grave soil, and then a splattering of fresh blood on the skull, Voldemort began his first ritual from the ancient tomes. The air in the ritual room quickly lost temperature, growing chill and seeming to darken as the candles and wall sconces all flickered low. What sounded like faint whispers began to fill the dark corners of the room as Voldemort focused his magic towards the ritual.

“Hear me, Jonathan Mulciber, your master, Lord Voldemort, calls for you.” Voldemort intoned, his voice echoing eerily in the darkened room.

“Lord…Voldemort…?” A faint whisper rose above the others, though was still little more than a whisper in the still air. “Why do you call me from the dead…?”

“I have need of your services once again.” Voldemort replied to the faint spirit. “Take revenge with me. Take vengeance on the mudbloods and their ilk that killed you. Bring the muggles under heel beneath us, as is their place. Come, release your pent up wrath.”

“Wrath…?” The faint whisper grew just a little stronger as Voldemort’s words resonated with the remnant spirit and the necromantic magic converged on the bones and grave soil.

Voldemort’s dark hiss passed through the cold air as he spoke again. “Remember how you were treated by the mudbloods and those that supported them.”

“Mudbloods…” There was a notable change in the faint spirit’s tone.

“You were born of a long magical line, and yet they wanted to take that importance away from you.” Voldemort knew exactly how to rouse the resentment and hatred of all of his followers, past and present. His words flowed like water into their hearts and minds, giving them thoughts and reasons to act upon their repressed desires to hurt those that they saw as inferior. “Hate them. Despise the mudbloods. Hate the son of the ones that harmed your master. Despise Harry Potter. Do this, or your anger and grievances will never be settled.” Voldemort saw the way the shadows seemed to creep towards the ritual circle of grave soil and the skeleton that lay within. “Now, I call upon you. Let us take revenge against them all!”

The empty eye sockets of the skull glowed with a dark purple light as the bones rattled and the grave soil began to move to cover the skeleton.

“I hate them.” The whispered voice grew stronger as the skeleton’s right arm moved, pressing against the ground to help the body sit upright as the grave soil began to coalesce on the bones and turn into a necrotic mockery of flesh and blood. “I detest Harry Potter. I hate the mudbloods. I will take revenge!” The voice of the spirit said strongly, loud enough to be mistaken for the voice of a living person. The grave soil continued its path up the bones, part of the dark soil leaping into the empty eye sockets and reforming into two eyes of dark brown that quickly turned into an eerie reddish color with black sclera. “My Lord…” The now naked form of Johnathan Mulciber kneeled before Voldemort, his skin a pallid grey color like a corpse.

Voldemort swished his current wand and a black cloak fell over the undead’s naked body. With a dark smirk he held out his left hand, revealing a ten-inch long, carved and blackened bone in the shape of a wand. “Mulciber, use this.” He handed the bone wand to the undead man.

“What is it?” Mulciber asked, even as he took hold if it.

“A wand that you can use as you are now.” Voldemort answered simply. “With it you can cast any hex or curse you know.” Left unsaid was that no normal wand would work for the undead Mulciber, or any undead for that matter, as a normal wand simply wouldn’t react to the dead. This bone wand, called an Osgravis in the ancient tome that Voldemort had found the method of making it in, was a tool designed by ancient necromancers to allow them to raise undead witches and wizards and have them perform spells. “Soon, I will allow you to test your power.”

Mulciber nodded to Voldemort and stood up at his master’s beckoning. “I will do so, my Lord.”

Voldemort could only smirk, a dark and twisted look, as he gave the undead Mulciber an order. “Go guard the door and let no one inside. I still have materials to use.” His red eyes looked over at another gathered set of bones and grave soil that Barty had managed to acquire over the last few months. “I believe that I should bring Wilkes back into my service as well.”

Mulciber nodded once, not saying a word despite the fact that he’d known Wilkes fairly well in life, a loyal Death Eater that had fallen to the Aurors in battle. Without another word, Mulciber turned and walked towards the thick wooden door and opened it, stepped outside, and then closed it behind him, taking up the guard position that he’d been ordered to. Any thoughts of the task being beneath him, or a chore, or any negative thought at all never appeared in the undead’s mind, though they most certainly would have back in the Seventies when he was alive.

Within the room, Voldemort levitated the grave soil next to Wilkes’s skeleton and drew the intricate ritual circle on the stone floor again. Once the circle was perfect, he levitated the skeleton into the center and stood over it, smearing the skull with his fresh blood before carefully stepping out of the circle and focusing his magic again. The air went chill once again, the candles and sconces dimming as the flames flickered low and the faint whispers from the shadowy corners were heard. “Hear me, Anthony Wilkes, your master, Lord Voldemort, calls for you.”

Once Voldemort had two undead Death Eaters to guard his ritual chamber, he’d then start raising some lesser undead for them to command, as well as calling forth other specters that would only be able to obey him. That was the entire reason that Voldemort had decided on using these darkest of arts to rebuild his forces. Undead had no ability to go against their master, their will only existed to serve Voldemort’s own desires. This time, he’d not suffer traitors or cowards turning on him to save their own skins. All of his true followers would rise from their graves to serve him with absolute obedience. And with his undead army, he’d slaughter all those who opposed him and show the entire world that he was truly the greatest wizard to ever live. He would mold the world to his image and nothing, no one, would stop him.

-Tonks’ Home-

“I think I need to make a visit to the family lawyer.” Sirius said, having seen the article in Witch Weekly while in Diagon Alley picking up a few things.

“Why’s that?” Ted asked, having not seen the article as he didn’t read Witch Weekly. When the magazine was placed on the table in front of him, opened to the center page article, his eyes immediately zeroed in on the picture of Harry. “Oh, bollocks, what now?” He started to read the short article with growing annoyance.

Andromeda stepped into the kitchen and almost felt the tension in the air. “What’s wrong?” She asked as she stepped over to her husband’s side and saw him reading what appeared to be Witch Weekly of all things. “Oh… I see.” She narrowed her eyes at the picture of Harry in the magazine and nearly hissed at seeing the name ‘Rita Skeeter’ as the writer.

Sirius looked at Andromeda seriously. “I think I’ll be giving the family lawyer a Floo call.”

“You should.” Andromeda nodded a little stiffly, clearly trying to control her temper as she’d just finished reading the article.

“I hope Harry and the girls aren’t having to deal with too much mocking from the other students about this.” Ted said with a gruff tone, a sure sign of the normally warm and kind man’s aggravation at his family being under such libel.

Sirius actually had a smirk as he thought about that. “After what Harry and Fleur did at the Second Task? Those other kids would have to be absolute fools to antagonize anyone mentioned in this trashy article.” With a short bark of laughter, Sirius head for the fireplace and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and tossed it into the flames, turning them green as he knelt down and spoke the name of the lawyer’s office that the Black Family kept on retainer.

-Auror Bullpen ~ Ministry of Magic-

Hestia Jones, a longtime friend of Tonks since their first year as fellow Hufflepuffs in Hogwarts, poked her head into Tonks’s small cubicle. “Hey, Tonksie, did you see today’s Witch Weekly yet?”

“Wotcher, Hestia.” Tonks smiled at her friend as she finished signing her name on the report she had to turn in about her arrest of a drunken witch that had been screaming and throwing hexes at her cheating fiancé in the middle of Diagon Alley. “You know I only read Witch Weekly when I’m bored.” She laughed while extending her hand, holding it open for Hestia to place the magazine in. “What rumor is going around now?”

“You might not like this one.” Hestia said with a little wince as she placed the opened Witch Weekly into Tonks’s hand.

Tonks raised an eyebrow as her hair shifted from pink to purple. Upon seeing Harry’s picture in the magazine, she almost immediately bristled. That feeling only got worse as she read the title of the article and then who wrote it. “Bloody Skeeter again…” Tonks growled lowly as she began to read the article itself.

Hestia watched as Tonks’s hair went from purple, to orange, and then to a deep crimson red, becoming quite frazzled in the process. “Three… Two… One…” Hestia counted down, having seen Tonks’s anger plenty of times during their years at Hogwarts.

“Utter rubbish!” Tonks declared loudly as she slapped the magazine down on her desk. The copy of Witch Weekly began to fade and the paper curled up and began to wrinkle. Tonks willed the offending magazine to change slowly into dust and Hestia watched on in surprise as the copy of Witch Weekly practically disintegrated into fine dust over a long moment. “I have half a mind to go drag Skeeter in for this slander!”

“Actually, it’s libel.” Hestia spoke up. “Slander is spoken.” She informed ‘helpfully’ with a small smile, knowing how to help defuse Tonks’s anger a bit since they’d been friends for so long.

Tonks stared at Hestia for a long moment while Hestia just smiled.

“Hah…” Tonks exhaled heavily. “Why’re we such good friends again?”

Hestia laughed a bit. “Because we help each other out.”

Tonks sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Still going to go hunt down Skeeter?” Hestia questioned with a little grin.

“Would you corroborate an alibi?” Tonks asked with a grin of her own.

Hestia took up a thinking pose. “Hmm… I don’t think that would be good for me or my career…so, no.”

Tonks snickered. “No help at all.”

“But you love me anyway!” Hestia said with a bright smile.

“Uh huh.” Tonks playfully rolled her eyes. “Let’s go get lunch. I need to calm down.”

Hestia agreed with a nod. “Sure! But if by some random chance you see Skeeter in Diagon Alley, you can’t hex her.”

Tonks looked right at Hestia with a smirk. “No promises.”

-Hogwarts Infirmary ~ Afternoon-

Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all in the Hospital Wing trying not to scratch at the bright red rashes that had spread across most of their bodies, all four whining as they twitched as their skin stung. Madam Pomfrey waved her waved over the four of them a few times and tsked twice.

“You’ll need to drink this potion twice a day, every day, for the next three days.” Madam Pomfrey said as she looped her wand twice and a few small vials of a dark green-brown potion levitated from the potion cupboard over to her. “As of right now, to calm the itching, you’ll need a medicinal bath. Honestly, why the students can’t stay away from things that will make them sick I will never understand.”

Daphne, as part of her assistance in the Hospital Wing while learning the basics of the Healing Arts from Pomfrey, hid her smirk as she watched on while Draco, Goyle, Crabbe, and Pansy all nearly retched at the taste of the potion. As Pomfrey led them over to a doorway that usually remained locked, having a small set of baths—separated for boys and girls—behind the heavy wooden doors, so that the four students could take their medicinal baths, Daphne began to focus on her magic.

“Magic is benevolence and malevolence…” Daphne whispered to herself as she let the Episkey Charm glow at the tip of her wand, focusing on the healing spell and the benevolence it represented in wanting to heal the injuries of others. “Benevolence…” Daphne said as the spell grew a bit brighter. Changing her mindset while maintaining the spell, Daphne watched as her spell took on a different look, no longer glowing but now looking like a wispy smoke surrounding the tip of her wand. “Malevolence…”

Needing something to test her new discovery on, Daphne looked around and finally spotted a spider in the corner of one of the tall windows. With a flick of her wand, the wispy, smoke-like spell shot through the air and struck the arachnid. The creature twitched and jerked before going still again, then moving away from the part of its web that it had previously been in as if it were under attack.

“Immobulus!” Daphne cast and the spider stopped moving. With a swish of her wand, the immobilized spider floated over to Daphne and she set it on top of one of the bedside tables before running a couple of diagnostic charms on it. “Hmm, it’s not injured that I can tell. Episkey is meant to heal minor injuries, maybe it’s malevolent form only causes very minor injuries and some pain?” It certainly seemed to be the case given the spider’s condition. “I wonder…” Daphne focused and put the tip of her wand against her left arm. “Benevolence.” She focused on the beneficial aspect of what she wanted to do. “Sanguis Purgatio.” Daphne incanted and felt a tingle in her arm, coming from her veins and arteries as blood passed through them near where her wand tip was touching. Holding her spell for a full minute, Daphne eventually let it go and then waved her wand over herself before looping it and then giving it a flick.

The results of her diagnostic charm were rather promising.

“My blood pressure is normal, oxygen content is optimal, and there aren’t any contaminants within it.” Daphne whispered to herself as a smile spread across her lips. The ‘Blood Purifying Charm’ was more advanced Healing Magic that wasn’t taught in Hogwarts, but Daphne had found the spell in one of the many books she’d read in the library and learned it herself—even if such a feat was quite impressive, especially for a fourth year that didn’t have all of the ‘proper’ training. It was normally used to purge the remnant traces of poisons and potions from a patient’s blood after they’d taken required antidotes or counter-potions. But Daphne’s ‘benevolence-enhanced’ version had left her blood clear of even minor contaminants that were usually dealt with by the body naturally.

Standing up quickly, Daphne rushed over to Pomfrey’s desk and took a piece of parchment for herself. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a ballpoint pen that Hermione had given her to show her the ease and convenience that the non-magical writing device provided. Daphne quickly put pen to parchment as she wrote down the idea that had just come to her. Writing the overarching idea at the top and then underlining it with a bright smile as she felt like she’d just had a breakthrough in not only applying her interpretation of magic to her spells, but also in her dream to become a Healer.

Purification Spells

Was at the top of the piece of parchment as Daphne started jotting down her thoughts and a few hypotheses in regards to spells that could be enhanced further with the ability to purge negative effects left by lingering dark magic, or poison, or potions.

“Could I purify the potions ingredients that we use to make the Potter Potion Pills?” Daphne asked herself aloud as she jotted the idea down. It seemed like a sound idea, purifying and refining the materials used in the potion that made the pills should, theoretically, enhance the effect of the pills themselves. “I’ll have to test it with my cultivars, one set normal for a control and another with all of the ingredients purified and then used to make the pills.” She muttered quietly to herself.

-Ravenclaw Tower ~ Hermione’s Dorm-

“Daphne figured out her interpretation of magic before I did…” Hermione said with a sigh, wondering what she was doing wrong. She wanted to reach for a book, or go down to the library to try and search for the answers, but shook her head. “No, no, Harry told you that interpretation is personal. It’s not an answer that’ll be found in a book.”

Hermione sat on the chair in front of the vanity that she only really used to check over her appearance in the morning and make sure her uniform was neat and proper.  She lightly ran her fingers through her bushy hair, recalling how her friends had said that she should try styling her wild brunette locks occasionally. Her mind wandered as she moved her hair around, looking at it in different positions and holding it into a simple ponytail with her left hand as she considered how that made her look.

“What am I doing.” Hermione shook her head, letting her hair fall down her back again. “I should be studying and trying to figure out how I view magic.” She stood up and tossed herself onto her bed with a sigh. Rolling over, she stared up at the canopy above and thought about how her friends interpreted magic. “Tonks sees magic as ‘change’, Fleur sees it as ‘emotion’, Luna sees it as ‘what it is and what it wants to be’, Daphne sees it as ‘benevolence and malevolence’, Harry won’t tell anyone his interpretation because he says it could interfere with their own…” She rolled over onto her stomach, glancing at a book on her night stand for a second. “This isn’t a test…it’s just introspection.” Hermione rolled over again, looking up at the blue and bronze canopy.

She found herself just listing things off in her head a short time later. Her friend’s interpretations of magic, everything she’d read in books, how Harry made his spells, the Laws of Elemental Transfiguration, anything that came to her mind as she organized her thoughts with the Occlumency that Harry had helped her learn.

“Benevolence, malevolence, emotion, change, what it is and what it wants to be…” Hermione said aloud as she parsed her thoughts and realized that she couldn’t put all of her friend’s interpretations into the same category in her mind. “That’s not logical. They’re all different from each other, after all.” Then she paused. “Wait…magic doesn’t have to be logical, but it does have some rules to it.” Going over the Laws of Elemental Transfiguration again, Hermione began to ponder on why those ‘Laws’ existed when magic could seemingly do anything. “But then again, aside from necromancy, which is just faking life, no one can truly bring back the dead. You can’t make true food with Conjuration either. But you can fly and ignore the fundamental force of gravity, shrink and grow objects regardless of mass, change temperature, color, and form, make people experience certain emotions, hurt and heal…and it’s all magic.” Hermione sat up and blinked as her bushy hair fell about her shoulders and some even got in her face. “That’s illogical… But there’s logic to some of it… Logical, illogical… Change, emotion, benevolent, malevolent, what it is and what it can be…”

It was as if someone had opened a door that Hermione had been trying to find a way to get around for years.

“It’s both.” Hermione said softly in the privacy of her dorm room. “It’s illogical and logical; illogical becomes logical, logical become illogical…” She ran her hands through her hair and flopped back on the bed with a laugh, even kicking her feet up into the air. “Magic is logical and illogical entirely dependent upon how I want to use it!”

She bolted out of her bed and was threw open her dorm room door before rushing down to the common room.

“Hermione?” Luna blinked as she saw Hermione charge down the stairs to the girls’ dorms. The next thing she knew was Hermione pulling her into a warm, tight hug that nearly lifted her feet off the ground. “This is nice.” She smiled at Hermione.

“It’s both!” Hermione said to Luna with a bright smile. “Luna, it’s both!”

“What’s both of what?” Luna asked with a tilt of her head.

Hermione released her hug and rushed towards the stairs leading to the boy’s dorms. “Magic!” She called back, looking over her shoulder at Luna with a wide, excited smile before she disappeared up the stairs. “Harry!” Was heard by everyone in the common room a second later as they all wondered what had Hermione so excited an energetic.

The pounding on his dorm room door alerted Harry that he had a visitor, and the bright yelling of his name three times in rapid succession let him know that it was Hermione. Sitting up on his bed from where he’d been thinking, he opened his door with but a thought only for Hermione to zoom inside and nearly tackle him back onto his bed. “Hermione?!”

“It’s both, Harry!” Hermione smiled down at Harry as she nearly straddled him.

“What’s both?” Harry asked, not minding their current position in the slightest as he closed and locked his dorm room door with a flick of his index finger.

“Magic!” Hermione declared with the same bright smile. “Magic is both logical and illogical! Logical can be made illogical, and illogical can be made logical…but it’s still magic! It’s both!”

Hary smiled warmly up at Hermione as he rolled her words around in his head. “That’s an interesting way to interpret magic, Hermione. I like it.”

Hermione didn’t respond with words, instead she laid herself atop Harry and kissed him, humming softly when his arms came up to wrap around her waist as he kissed her back. She was too happy at finally coming to her own understanding, she had so many thoughts and ideas already running through her head and her excitement was higher than she could remember. Hermione found warmth and comfort in Harry’s arms and his kisses as the two cuddled together, deepening their kissing. She had plenty of things to write down and try out later, but right now, she just wanted to celebrate her new interpretation of magic with her boyfriend.

“Two people coming to their own interpretations in one day is certainly new.” Harry said once he and Hermione pulled back from each other, a grin on his lips.

“Yeah…” Hermione breathed out before pulling her black school uniform robe over her head and then tossing it aside, leaving her in just her uniform skirt, blouse, jumper and tie as she cupped Harry’s face with her hands and kissed him again. She was still in control of herself, but she wanted to be closer to Harry right now, and the robe had been in the way.

When Harry playfully tugged at the bottom hem of her jumper a minute or so later, Hermione decided that it was in the way too and pulled it off, tossing it aside before the two resumed their kissing and cuddling.

Neither would be seen until dinner that night and Hermione would be almost permanently blushing as Fleur, Daphne, and Tracy all playfully teased her about how flustered she looked coming into the Great Hall on Harry’s arm.

-End Chapter-

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Well, a certain ‘reporter’ can’t se to keep her vile opinions to herself!

That might just cost her sooner than she thinks!

Daphne and Hemione have both figured out their own interpretations of magic! On the same day! But Daphne figured out hers first, so she’s definitely going to hold that over Hermione, playfully, from now on. Kek!

Daphne sees magic as both Benevolence and Malevolence, owning to her own experience with the Blood Malediction and the way Harry ‘healed’ her and her own desire to be a Healer. Seeing that magic has two sides like that is certainly one way to interpret it!

Hermione, on the other hand, sees magic as being both logical and illogical, changing according to how it’s used. Logical and be made illogical, while illogical can be made logical. For someone that’s so ‘orderly’ like Hermione, it makes sense that it would take her a while to understand that magic is something that fits into both categories. After all, some magic follows strict rules, while other magics seemingly just do whatever the user wants them to.

What will Daphne and Hermione make from their individual interpretations?

Meanwhile, Voldemort is starting to accelerate his plans after seeing the memory of Harry’s incredible magical power! Through dark arts and ancient necromancy, Voldemort is bringing back some of his oldest Death Eaters that have already died! Undead that mimic who they were in life, memory, speech, and knowledge. All fully under Voldemort’s control without any ability to resist or have an opinion of their own! A very terrifying thought!

What is Voldemort’s goal for himself as his current host body continues to break down? Just what is the Dark Lord that was willing to mutilate his soul going to become with the power of these ancient dark arts?

Perhaps even more importantly, what kind of abominations will he create for his undead army and how powerful will they be?

Keep reading to find out!

Until I get your reviews, later!