Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Fool assault
General POV:
"Why would I care?" grunted Magnus through the pages of his tome.
"Goldstein is saying you're a cheater, Magnus. We're Ravenclaws, our academic reputation is everything to us!" Exclaimed Terry, in what he thought was a convincing mask of worry.
"And?" growled back the muggleborn, the boy was starting to get on his nerves lately.
"You just need to join the study group, help the other claws out and it would become obvious that you are not a cheater. It would be nothing for you, I'll be there to help out if needed." Said Terry, the boy was getting good at lying through his teeth, a shame it is limited to the pursuit of the grades almighty.
"If they think I'm a cheater when they actually saw me cast those spells, it's very unlikely that a study group would change their opinion, Terry. Though your concern is much…appreciated." He had to bite back the more colourful ways of expressing his 'gratitude'.
"It's your choice, I just hope you'll see reason." Sighed the dejected Terry, staying in his role until the end.
This was his dear companion, Terry Boot's latest attempt at manipulating him to discover the secrets of his superiority in all things magical. Yes, I said latest as it might be the fourteenth time he asked him in the last month.
The boy and the other Ravenclaws have been trying in vain to either grow at his expense or sabotage his work through a variety of schemes, ruses and all kinds of traps. Though Magnus could admire their determination and innovation, if they displayed the same amount of the later in their study of magic they might eventually grow beyond their amateurish understanding of the arcane.
The last months allowed the amber eyed boy to get more comfortable in the castle, the wizards that dwelled in it as well as the various classes he had to attend.
Hogwarts was marvellous, of that there was no doubt. But seeing the magics behind it's intricate spellwork and enchantments only made it more impressive, the complexity behind the most basic of its charms being enough to keep him awake at night in his vain attempts at comprehension.
Although the castle itself was surely awe inspiring, the classes were much more subject to controversy.
While they had highly skilled experts and fine pedagogues like Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick occupied key positions, and provided peerless instruction in their respective fields of Transfiguration and Charms on one side. The other boasted some of worst teachers wizardkind ever produced, not counting those to come.
Quirrell, beyond his questionable fashion sense and the passenger he carried behind his head, was doubtlessly the worst teacher in this school. His classroom stank of garlic, his stuttering was so annoying many a student had to repress the urge to check his defence skills by themselves.
Defence Against the Dark Arts was a subject Magnus would learn solely by himself, that much was clear. Though Hogwarts's and his own house's libraries made the prospect much easier to tackle, the subjects fascinating nature only adding to that.
Professor Binns was horrendous, but he was so caught up in his own boring blabbering he didn't even pay attention to his students. He never answered questions nor did he check on the students…Magnus obviously left and didn't come back.
History of Magic was an interesting subject he'd also study on his own, while Padma Patil would give him a detailed report on the lesson's happening in exchange for help in her essays of the same subject. It was a beneficial relationship with no deceit and Magnus was thus not averse to, if only the other Ravenclaws could understand that…
Snape was manageable, if barely. He was not a good teacher, but he was a fine potion master and he respected good work. So, He left him be and focused on producing the best potions he could, which was enough to make him offer the same courtesy.
Herbology was not Magnus's thing, that much was clear. Professor Sprout was a good teacher, and she loved her profession, but the subject was not his forte. The other Ravenclaws enjoyed seeing that even their abnormal classmate could not simply breeze through all things magical.
Astronomy was boring, it's main application was its use in a form of divination; a pseudo-magic Magnus loathe as the rarity of true seers led to the subject becoming a joke and a scam-nest.
Even true prophecies are mostly self-fulfilling traps only good for ruining lives, no need to mention what he thought of people who pretend to read his future in twigs and coffee.
Though Astronomy had some other advantages that were considerable enough to catch our protagonist's interest, the meaning and power the astral bodies possessed opened the door to another field of magic he was rather passionate about; and no, it's neither transfiguration nor charms.
But if his suppositions are correct, and they usually are, achieving mastery in that discipline would make Magnus one of the most dangerous beings in the world.
It soon became apparent that his future didn't lay in potion making or Herbology, as he simply could not conjure the same amount of religious dedication and innate affinity he had with Transfiguration and Charms.
These two were intimately linked, one was the exact art behind many magics and the one with the less reliance on incantations and wand movements. The other was the bread and butter of wizards, and the first step toward mastering enchantments.
Both of them put great emphasis on the importance of intent, something Magnus trained extensively in the last couple of years. Which is why it was no surprise that they became his domains of predilection.
Let me rephrase it, He devours transfiguration and charms tomes like Dumbledore with his addiction to sherbet lemons.
McGonagall and Flitwick were more than happy to indulge their outstanding student, giving him additional work so as not hinder his growth. In their own words, it was their duty as educators to nurture their students so that they might reach their full potential.
It translated in an unholy amount of homework and the enmity of his house; Magnus loved the first, the second…not so much.
Which takes us back to his current situation, his housemates incessant pestering was getting more and more irritating by the day. He could barely stay in the common room without being spied on, disturbed or both; as Michael Corner was not the stealthiest raven in the nest.
Magnus could of course humour them, set up a study group and hopefully gain some influence. Mentor them at the expense of his own development, or provide a totally not suspicious service that will obviously be allowed by Dumbledore who will not think that Magnus Arran is in fact the secret love child of Tom Riddle and Grindelwald.
But as his grandfather used to say: 'There are always at least two solutions to a problem.'
Which is why he was spending his weekend in the seventh floor of the left corridor in the company of Barnabas the Barmy, whose life work was to teach trolls how to dance Ballet…Madness ran strong in that one.
'I need a room to study optimally' He concentrated on his need as he walked three time in front of Barnabas, who was almost crushed by one of his rather capricious students.
Surely enough, a door appeared before him. Making sure he was alone, Magnus stepped in and started the first of the numerous experiments on what would certainly become his favourite room in the castle.
The inside was way larger than he expected, but it was far from being the most impressive thing inside.
The room of requirement changed to suit it's user's needs and preferences, as it became a large, cosy space with a comfortable sofa and an indecent number of books.
On the left side was a space with targets so that he might practise my spells, while the right was a library classed by the subject and difficulty.
'Now's not the time for that' He did his best to ignore the call of alluring new spells, tomes that might be unknown to the dwellers of this castle.
Sadly, Magnus could not give in, for he had experiments to conduct.
-BREAK-
Just like that, another month was about to end.
Beyond his usual excellence in all things magical, except the thrice damned Herbology. The last thirty days were extremely fruitful, as the muggleborn student advanced in the accomplishment of his goals faster than he ever did.
It was all thanks to the Room of Requirements.
Magnus spent nearly all of his time in the room, experimenting on it's capabilities or advancing his own mastery of magic. From that endeavour many profits were collected, literally and metaphorically.
The Come and Go room was a miracle of magic, like much of the castle. It seemed to have a degree of sentience as it could interpret his needs with extreme precision and accomplish nearly all of his wants.
It was, however, limited in its ability to create things, being bound the normal laws of elemental transfiguration. This could be bypassed by summoning objects or copies of them from all around the castle, Magnus understood that when he found the copy of a book in the Ravenclaw library.
It could therefor also summon certain objects within a limit, as it refuses to give him others people's property. Though lost objects and the property of former students was fair game, which the destitute orphan he was mercilessly exploited.
Every day, students and teachers misplace galleons, precious items and all kind of things that would benefit him greatly. The ROR saw no ethical problem in giving that which was lost, and so one of his greatest problems as an orphan was resolved.
Magnus could now say with confidence that he was worth more than the entirety of the Weasleys family net worth.
His days were therefor filled with study of the arcane, tolerance of his classmates and quality time in the room of requirement; which essentially meant studying forbidden knowledge.
It was this magically and economically superior Magnus who was currently entering the Ravenclaw common room after a long day of work, a Magnus who could cast more magic than a simple locomotor, a Magnus who dabbled in the basics of elemental magics and who knew enough of jinxes to make a second year Slytherin blush.
It was the same Magnus a certain Anthony Goldstein tried ambushing in his own common room, while the rest of the year did nothing to stop him.
"Stolidus!" He waved his wand in an arc before thrusting it toward a baffled Magnus's face.
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Hey, it's Uncle Sheo!
I know this chapter is a bit short, and we may have stumbled toward a pretty nasty cliff while i guided you through my fiction. But as a consolation prize, you will receive another chapter today, one you will surely enjoy.
Criticism and suggestions are always welcome, take care guy.
Peace and Cheese
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