Kapitel 4: The darkest of magical arts

In the end, Draco chose to both start studying the following year's course material and start his journey into the dark arts.

The darkest of magical arts, the youth read the title of the book he was currently holding.

Its cover was made of dark, cracked leather, worn with age and handling. It was as old as his own family.

It had intricate silver filigree framed the edges that glinted faintly in the light.

There's no turning back after this, Draco thought, feeling the faint but powerful feeling the book exuded.

The book's value wasn't in the spells it held, for they weren't as rare and sophisticated, his mother had once told him so. They weren't all-powerful pieces of magic that would allow him to become the next dark lord…

Its value instead was in its comprehensive guide to using the dark arts without losing oneself.

«The darkest of arts hold immense power and potential. Everyone knows it, yet few use it. Have you wondered why that is so? It's simply, really. As every practitioner of magic knows, the extraordinary force that we often use without thought always requires a sort of balance. The other side of the dark art's balancing scale is more often than not, the caster's sanity. Imagine Ma'at's feather of truth, but instead with the power granted by the darker side of magic weighing on a scale against the magician's mind. To become an apt practitioner of the dark arts is to become mad. There's no other way around it.»

Draco read the first paragraph of the book.

Most people would have backed down after reading those few lines, and that's why the author decided to be brash and put them in the beginning.

Draco however had no choice.

He also knew that there was a way to retain the soundness of the mind.

There were plenty of death eaters who despite their questioning and alarming tendencies were almost normal.

Discarding that train of thought, the youth turned his attention back to the book.

«Luckily, or not, there's a way to both practice the dark arts and imitate a sound mind. The key to remaining sane is the control of the insanity. To put it simply, you must learn how to combat and cage the insidious effects the practice of the dark arts causes on you. The best way to go about it, is the magic of the mind, occlumency.»

Two owls, one treat, Draco thought, believing that his plan to learn the obscure art to be even more worthwhile now. No, it's absolutely imperative to delve into the mind arts, the sooner the better.

«In ideal circumstances, a practitioner of the dark arts would be a master in occlumency before even casting his first spell, as that is the only way to sustain a constant healthy psyche. However, not everyone has enough time and resources to dedicate to developing their mind, and some don't even have the mental capacity required to become master Occlumens. Needless to say, the effort it takes to reach the required control to be named a master in the mind arts is also a big deterrent… So the lazy and the untalented start casting dark magic, and little by little, spell by spell, their mind falters. It isn't noticeable in the beginning, not to others and not to the caster himself, but after about a hundred successfully cast spells, the change is unmistakable. A rotten and insidious feeling surrounds the dark wizard, felt only by those sensitive to magic.»

"Hmmm? Is that the weird feeling I keep getting when I come face-to-face with most of the death eaters? I thought it was some psychological defence mechanism, but maybe it's not," Draco murmured aloud, curious by that little piece of information.

I should probably look up what being sensitive to magic exactly means and entails. It sounds as if it could be useful, he thought before continuing with his reading.

«That is not the end of the effects caused by the improper dealing with the dark arts, but merely their beginning. There are many impacts on the mage as they progress the forbidden path, some of which are simply superficial, such as red eyes and the decay of the human features. However, the two mentioned changes in appearance are extremely rare as very few have managed to delve into the dark arts as much without the proper safeguards in place. Most, if not all, perish due to insanity by that point.»

"Voldemort," Draco murmured out aloud just as he finished the paragraph.

Just as he realised whose name he murmured he immediately put a hand on his mouth, a feeling of an all-encompassing dread surrounding him.

What if the dark lord knows I just said his name out loud?

The youth twitched in his seat, frantically looking left and right as if the evil parselmouth would just pop up inside his room.

Draco's fears weren't baseless.

Just like the older generations knew, in the first war, the dark lord put up a hex that encompassed the whole of England and was able to find out the moment someone uttered his name out loud, alongside a few keywords.

What if he cast the hex again?

Draco couldn't even begin to comprehend the magic needed to cast something like that.

He knew though that the last time, it took the evil wizard a whole month to set up the required spells.

After a few minutes passed and the young Malfoy didn't find himself in the madman's presence, he finally allowed himself to calm down.

So the dark lord fucked up huh? he thought before he burst out laughing, although he kept it down as much as he could; it wouldn't do to be heard laughing inside his room, by himself.

Something about that simple revelation was extremely amusing.

So even he failed to stave off the price of the dark arts.

That was both a good and bad piece of news because if the dark lord failed, a man of immense talent and power, what could he do?

However, Draco couldn't know for sure that the mess the madman found himself in wasn't caused by his own greed instead of his inadequacies.

I'll just do my best. Either way, it's not like I have a choice.

At last, the boy stood up and looked back to his high-backed armchair.

It was Abraxas Malfoy's, his grandfather's, and it was crafted from the finest dark mahogany, polished to a deep, almost mirror-like sheen.

At least, if I meet my end by the accursed magic, it will be on me, he thought and for the briefest of moments, Draco Malfoy finally felt free.

I'm not dropping my other fic, Dragon Eyes.