The castle was the emptiest Edmund had ever seen it. Despite the vastness of Hogwarts, student life made the halls feel busy and bustling at all times. Even while Edmund was sneaking through the passageways at night, knowing that there were others out past curfew as well made him never feel alone. It was oddly uncomfortable roaming the school and not meeting a single soul while doing so. But it was likely this very emptiness that led him to discover something he had been searching for the last few months.
It was on the third floor, in an abandoned classroom in a largely unfrequented corridor. In the small drawer of a rotting wooden desk, was a boggart.
Boggarts were some of the most fascinating commonly found creatures in the wizarding world. There was almost no aspect of their existence that was not under heavy debate at all times.
Although they clearly fed on emotions and could react to stimuli, many magizoologists refused to classify them as living creatures at all. There were no records of the birth of a boggart, only knowledge about the environment in which they spawned: dark, empty, abandoned spaces. Furthermore, there was no known way to kill a boggart, only to banish it and make the home it had found inhabitable for it. Mortal, amortal, or immortal; There was no definitive answer.
The mystery of the boggart was exacerbated by the fact that nobody knew of their true appearance. It was unsure if their original look had simply never been seen, or if they were only formless masses of malevolent energy.
Regardless, their magic was inconceivably diverse, granting boggarts a multitude of properties. They could transform their appearance not only like a metamorphmagus but also into inanimate items like various clothing and furniture. Their transformative magic was highly sought after, but its origins had never been discovered thus far.
But that was beside the point. The real question was why Edmund had been searching for one for all this time.
A hunch.
Boggarts took the shape of whatever they believed would most frighten their victim. But what if the person was most scared of something they had faced before? What if their greatest fear and worst memory were one and the same?
That would mean that the person's experience with a boggart and a dementor would be fairly similar. Except, of course, a boggart was only a pale imitation of whatever it was trying to replicate.
The basilisk was a fearsome creature. Its ability to kill with merely a look made it one of the most terrifying wizard killers ever to roam the earth. Such a beast was a common fear, especially for Hogwarts students who had heard the tales of the headmaster slaying it only just recently. However, the boggart form of it held only a fraction of the original's power. It could not kill with its eyes, nor could it even petrify. The most it could do was knock someone down, unable even to make them unconscious.
Similarly, Voldemort himself had become an incredibly common fear in recent years. The boggart incarnation of the dark lord, while menacing to look at, could not even harm a fly.
Hence, if his theory were correct, facing the boggart would allow Edmund to experience what a dementor invoked within him in a much safer and toned-down manner. Without the mental effects of the dementor, he would hopefully be able to build an immunity to his fears and gain some helpful training at the same time.
'No use wasting time thinking about it,' Edmund psyched himself up as he bounced on the balls of his feet. 'Let's do this.'
With a whispered "Accio" on the knob, the desk drawer slid open, and then Edmund's sight was entirely filled with a wall of emptiness. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see the stone wall of Hogwarts, but the boggart had done a good effort to submerge him in his worst fear.
He stared into the void, and the void stared back.
Taking a few long inhales and exhales, he tried to calm his spiking heart rate. The palpitations in his chest eventually slowed, though his mind still felt affected.
"Riddikulus!" he cast loudly, and the screen of darkness compressed as it fled into the small confines of the drawer which shut automatically with a bang.
"Not a bad start," he commended himself. "Pretty good for the first time testing a new spell."
He sat down for a few minutes, debating what to start with.
'Occlumency is probably the best option,' he decided, readying his wand once more.
Learning occlumency was a task best achieved through attacking the mind. With increased exposure, the brain would adapt faster, and the process would go by more quickly. However, attacks on the mind could come not just from the outside but also from the inside. More specifically, occlumency could be used to shield oneself from their emotions, letting the brain operate with cold efficiency.
Controlling his impulses and thoughts with occlumency was something Edmund needed on a daily basis, and the boggart would be a useful tool to practice.
Clearing his mind, he let the boggart out from its confines again. Immediately, he noticed its effects were dimmed, allowing him to assess the situation he was in more analytically than before. Still, the boggart was able to ascertain his fear and wasn't being starved, which meant Edmund was producing enough emotion for it to thrive.
'Unacceptable,' he reprimanded himself. 'Again!'
Repeatedly, one time after another, Edmund summoned and banished the creature. Several hours passed, and the boggart's magic lost its hold on him at an increasingly faster pace. His progress with occlumency was occurring extremely rapidly, giving Edmund a great amount of satisfaction. Elspeth would be surprised at their next session by how advanced he was for someone who had only begun learning two months prior.
Eventually, the blank wall began to flicker, before fizzling out entirely. The boggart was no longer able to form around him, such had his defences been bolstered. Hopefully, the work he had put in would show in front of a dementor as well, but that was yet to be seen.
Using Scourgify, Edmund cleaned his body of the sweat that had formed on it, leaving a temporary itching sensation all over. Magic was wonderful, but there was no replacement for a shower.
Grimacing at the uncomfortable sensation, Edmund rolled his shoulders repeatedly to rid himself of it.
'Time to move on,' he thought to himself.
Employing his occlumency at full force, he released the boggart. The illusion created by it stuttered like static, barely holding on at all. With a flourish, he waved his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!" he intoned firmly, watching as the proud jaguar leapt out, snarling lowly at the boggart.
Content, he dismissed the guardian.
This would not be the challenging part. Much as Edmund hoped his occlumency would persevere under the influence of the dementor, he could not be sure of the fact. He needed to acclimate himself to casting the light spell under duress, at times when his mind was in disarray.
So, against his instincts, he slightly lowered his level of occlusion before calling forth the boggart. His patronus formed once more when commanded, albeit slightly more weakly.
'This... is gonna take a while,' Edmund resigned himself.
Slowly but surely, he lowered his mental walls, ensuring that he could cast the patronus at his full strength as he did so. The work was tough, both mentally and magically exhausting, but he could feel it viscerally making him stronger. It was an addicting feeling, and Edmund was happy to feed into it.
As nightfall came around, Edmund finally got to remove the last of his barriers. The feeling of the jaguar shielding him, enveloping him, was made all the more powerful with his emotions running free. The giddiness within could not help but escape from his mouth in the form of an uncontrollable laugh.
With one last spell, Edmund banished the boggart for good, ending the creature's suffering that he had put it through.
'Not bad for a single day's work,' he smirked to himself.
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The day had come. The day he had been anticipating for so long. The 30th of December was here, and it seemed to be smiling upon him. There was a biting chill in the air, but the sky was spotless, giving him an unobstructed view of the heavens.
Edmund was within the Room of Requirement, making some final preparations while he still could. He was hunched over a large vat, containing a goopy homogenous substance. Using a long metallic ladle, he scooped the mixture into small tubes, corking them shut not a second later.
The potion was the last of the ones that he had been brewing to mitigate any future damage that may occur to him during the ritual or in its aftermath. Skele-Gro, Wound-Cleaning Potion, Dreamless Sleep, Essence of Dittany, Blood-Replenishing Potion, and now Burn-Healing Paste. Edmund had spared no expense. He would be damned if he managed to return to Hogwarts only to die of injury. The potions were an investment he had been saving up for a long while, and they would pay off one way or another. If everything went well, then he was sure he would be able to use them another time. Edmund refused to be stingy with anything involving his health or magical progress.
'Done,' he reported through the mental link.
'Are you sure?' Marvolo asked.
'I'm sure,' Edmund confirmed.
'Any final thoughts, or questions?' Marvolo inquired, uncaring that he was repeating himself.
'I know what to do, and I can do it,' Edmund said resolutely.
'Hmm,' Marvolo hummed with approval. 'Very well then. I will hear from you on the other side. Be warned, this will hurt.'
Under Edmund's gaze, the skin below his chest phased through, revealing his intestines and muscles, bloody and pink. Nestled within, a cube laden with runes emerged, slowly being drawn from its resting spot. With a disgustingly wet squelch, it was wrenched from its fleshy cavity, plopping into Edmund's hands. The skin reappeared slowly, fading back into existence. All Edmund was left with was pain, blinding and excruciating.
Holding his stomach as he doubled over, Edmund muffled and groaned into the leather belt he had transfigured from a blanket. His gums were bleeding from clenching so hard, but the ache was incomparable to that in his abdomen.
The agony dissipated steadily, but not fast enough for Edmund. When it was all eventually gone, he spat out his restraint, some of his blood accidentally being swallowed down his throat. Making a sour face at the taste, Edmund quickly drank a glass of water.
When he had calmed down, he began cleansing the cube that had been secured inside him only a minute ago with a wet cloth. The ritual could do with no magical interference, and that included the artifact he had been using to communicate with Marvolo. Apparently, the dark lord had anticipated this, and the device could be remotely installed and uninstalled at will.
'Fuck, if it doesn't hurt though,' Edmund complained.
Holding the apparatus up to his face, he rotated it slowly. Edmund recognized less than ten percent of the thousands of runes imbued upon it. It would be impossible for him to discern its inner workings with his current knowledge.
'Something to study later,' he decided, tucking the cube away into his expanded satchel with care.
It was time.
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