บท 15: Harry Potter : Chapter 15: Base II
"Incendio works well enough I guess." I muttered as my perspective of Fire slowly shifted until I could see into the small candle's flame both the shining sun, the reassuring lit hearth, and the wavering licks of flame that attempted to chase away the dark.
...
Symbols had no meanings on their own, what did a dragon understand of symbols? Nothing. The dragon understood the rage and the erasing of the opponent that threatened its territory.
What did phoenixes understand of fire? They died in it and were born from it, but there was no symbol to act as a buffer between the creature and the magic, for they didn't need it.
Wizardkind needed symbols in order to apply any kind of controlled magic to the world around them, be they spoke, gestured, or simply thought. But it was the caster that gave meaning to the symbol, and the understanding of the meaning that gave power to the spell.
So, while I easily used the symbolism of fire in order to cast charms, in particular, the aspect of fire that stood for change, what symbol was I going to use for fire itself? Fire was easy, if vast, to understand.
And any scientific notion that I had about it wasn't going to help, I was lucky enough that I could take as face value that magic and physics were simply separated.
An exothermic chemical reaction? Useless labels when it came to magic. Fire was Hunger, and Light, and Warmth, and Scorching Heat, and Complete Change, it was Energy, and Killer, and Life-Giver. Fire was a multitude of things, each with its meaning, each worthy of its own symbol.
Without a word, I lifted my wand, keeping the symbolism clear in my head, the multitude of meanings that I could grasp present in my mind as a lit flame themselves, each turning into another and yet staying the same.
For Fire was Fire, no matter if it was scorching Sun or warm Hearth, and I pointed the length of holly towards the candle that had by then burned half of its length.
With a ripple through the air, the flame on the wick spread like a folding fan, a curtain fluttering outwards on invisible wisps of air, until the quiet cover of flames landed over the embers of the fireplace, and there they remained.
Where before there was a lit candle in front of an almost empty fireplace, now the candle was no longer lit, and the dying embers and warm ashes were akin to a stretch of lush greenery, where each blade of grass was a single, gently waving flame.
Then I blinked, and the shift in perspective that had allowed me to grasp the concept of Fire left me while the world righted itself once more, and everything looked ordinary, except for the small carpet of flames that remained in the fireplace, giving off more warmth than they should have been able to.
What the fuck did I just do? I remained seated for a while, trying to grasp again the sense of detached understanding I had previously achieved, only to fall short of it when I heard shuffling and quiet noises from the doors that led to the dormitories.
When I tilted my eyes towards one of the clocks resting against the walls, I simply rose from my seat. Breakfast would start soon, and curfew consigned students to their common rooms only until 7 a.m., I had just the time for a jump in the Library before stuffing my gob with the divine food provided by house-elves.
Maybe I'll nap before the start of lessons. I thought as I lumbered out of the Common Room, feeling tiredness that weighted heavily over my eyelids.
...
"What are two Slytherin Wizards and one Gryffindor witch doing in the middle of the night in deserted corridoor?" I asked barely restraining a guffawing laugh.
"I hope you have an answer, because you're the one that dragged us in this foolishness." Riddle snarked from behind me as we completed another floor of stairs and reached the fourth floor.
"Yeah, I do, but I wanted to remark how this situation looks like the beginning of a raunchy joke."
"Must you be so uncouth?"
"Why are we doing this at night again?" Minerva's voice cut my laughter before I could properly reply to Tom Riddle's quiet distaste for anything related to 'socializing'.
"Because secrets don't belong to the day, and symbols are important in magic?" I tossed out in the air my random-ass answer, knowingly teasing my two companions.
"That's not what Professor Farsee meant."
"If you say so, Riddle. Yet, you couldn't resist and now you're here." I shrugged uncaringly as we kept walking.
"Must you be so aggravating Hagrid?"
"Why yes! Yes, I must!"
"Can we get on with this blatant and unnecessary violation of the rules?" the Gryffindor witch snapped at us, her wand held loftily in front of her in order to shine light in the dark hallways of the school.
"Oh, Minerva, don't deny that your Gryffindor self is enjoying this!"
"And why do you call each other with your surnames but I'm called by my first name?"
"That would be because you're a beautiful witch with a beautiful name." I quipped, before turning towards my fellow Slytherin, "See that Riddle? That's how you woo a witch."
"How dare you?" the spluttering reaction of Minerva almost covered the huff of irritation from Riddle, who spoke: "I don't need to woo anyone, thank you."
"Take it easy Minerva, we may be walking in the dark, but I can feel the heat of your blushing from here. And Riddle, you really should get yourself a date. Why, take Minerva here for example..." I quickened my steps once I found that we were nearing my objective.
"We're not having this conversation." Minerva's stinging hex rippled ineffectively over my left shoulder, stealing a smile out of me.
"I quite agree."
"If I wasn't here to amuse myself both of you would probably spend all your time studying on your own."
"That has never been a problem." the pursed lips of Minerva found confirmation of her opinion in Riddle's words.
"Magic isn't meant to be this stale thing we're being spoonfed during the lessons. Magic is mysterious, it should be practiced accordingly, and rightfuly so."
"This is not one of your insane potions for which you go gallivanting for ingredients... Now that I think about it, how did you two know where Gryffindor's Common Room was?" the Gryffindor witch asked.
"That's surprisingly easy, think about the most hideous hiding entrance in one of the most 'over the top' areas of the castle..."
"The Fat Lady is a..."
Minerva started to defend the portrait that hid her Common Room only for me to interrupt her: *Snoore* "Let's focus on magic now, aye?"
"Are you sure you aren't doing this simply because you can't fly a broom to save your life?" Riddle's voice tried ineffectively to tease me enough to reveal the real purpose of our nightly excursion, receiving only a sly glance for his effort.
"It's not that I can't fly a broom, it's that I'm too heavy for it." I ignored the teasing.
"I could string a couple of brooms together in order to keep me afloat, but I'd much prefer to find my own solution to flight."
"Broom-less flight?" Minerva seemed to look at me like I was mad: "I sometimes forget that you're a Slytherin."
"And what do you think I am when you forget the Green and Silver on my tie?"
"A madman."
"Fair enough." I laughed while Riddle thinly smiled, showing to the world his amusement in a proper and dignified manner.
"Will you tell us why you dragged us out in the night?" Tom finally asked, "I'd say we've been far more than simply accomodating. The promise of not regretting this will carry you only so far."
"I agree."
At the words of Minerva, I sighed in defeat: "I wanted this to be a surprise of sorts, but Riddle hates riddles, and you're as curious as a cat, aren't you Minerva?"
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