Chương 65: 65. Testing Mana
As Apollyon made her way back to the castle, the glow of sunset bathed Hogwarts in a warm, ethereal light, casting long shadows that danced along the ancient stone walls. The energy and clarity she felt from her afternoon of intensive magical practice lent her steps a buoyant, purposeful stride. By the time she reached the Great Hall for dinner, the hall was already buzzing with the chatter and laughter of students gathering for the evening meal.
She slid into her seat at the Ravenclaw table, where Marietta, Cho, and Lena were already halfway through their dinner. They paused in their conversations to look up at her, curiosity etched on their faces.
"Where have you been all day, Apollyon?" Marietta asked, her tone laced with a mix of concern and intrigue. "We looked for you after lunch, but you were nowhere to be found."
Cho chimed in, "Yeah, we thought you might want to explore the castle with us. There's so much to see!"
Lena, ever the observant one, noted the slight flush of energy on Apollyon's cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. "You look like you've had quite the day. Discover something interesting?"
Apollyon smiled, her appetite reawakened by the sight and smell of the food spread out before them. She filled her plate with a variety of dishes, her actions answering their unspoken question about her absence with a nonchalance that belied the intensity of her afternoon activities.
"I spent the afternoon practicing some spells, trying to get a better feel for wandless magic," she explained between bites, her enthusiasm for the subject evident. "Hogwarts grounds are really something—found a perfect spot near the Forbidden Forest. It's peaceful, ideal for concentration."
The mention of wandless magic piqued their interest further, their expressions a mixture of surprise and admiration. Wandless magic was known to be advanced, the domain of highly skilled witches and wizards.
Cho leaned forward, her curiosity overtaking her initial surprise. "Wandless magic? That's impressive, Apollyon. I've only read about it in advanced texts. It must require incredible control and understanding of your own magical energy."
Lena added, "It sounds like a powerful skill to develop. Do you think it's something you could teach us?"
Marietta, meanwhile, seemed equally impressed and slightly concerned. "Just be careful, okay? Practicing near the Forbidden Forest sounds risky."
Apollyon reassured them with a nod, appreciating their concern and interest. "Of course, I'll be careful. And I'd be happy to share what I know about wandless magic with you all. It's challenging, but I believe it's worth exploring together."
Dinner passed in a flurry of conversation, with Apollyon sharing more about her practice session, the beauty of the clearing she had found, and her thoughts on the potential of wandless magic. Her dormmates listened intently, their initial wonder transforming into a shared excitement about the magical discoveries that awaited them at Hogwarts.
The meal ended with a sense of camaraderie and anticipation for the year ahead and lessons the next day.
As the dawn of a new day broke over Hogwarts, casting its ancient stones in the first light of morning, Apollyon awoke with a sense of purpose and anticipation. Today marked the beginning of her formal lessons at Hogwarts, and the prospect of diving into the structured study of magic invigorated her. After a quick breakfast in the Great Hall, where she exchanged excited glances and last-minute advice with Marietta, Cho, and Lena, Apollyon gathered her books and parchment, setting off for her first class: Charms with Professor Flitwick.
The corridors of Hogwarts were abuzz with the chatter of students navigating their way to various classrooms. Apollyon moved with them, her steps confident yet measured, her mind buzzing with the possibilities that lay ahead. The thought of finally applying the theoretical knowledge she had accumulated over the summer thrilled her.
The Charms classroom was a cozy, inviting space, filled with rows of desks facing a raised platform where a small figure stood, surveying the incoming students with keen, twinkling eyes. Professor Flitwick, a master of Charms and a former dueling champion, greeted each student with a nod as they found their seats.
"Good morning, class," Professor Flitwick began, his voice clear and cheerful. "Welcome to your first Charms lesson. Charms is a fascinating field of magic, focusing on the casting of spells to achieve a variety of effects. Today, we'll start with the basics—Levitation. The Levioso spell, to be precise."
Apollyon listened intently, her eyes fixed on Professor Flitwick as he demonstrated the precise wand movement and the clear, deliberate enunciation required for the spell. "Swish and flick," he repeated, his wand sending a feather floating gracefully into the air. "Remember, it's Levi-o-sa, not Levio-sar."
As the class attempted the spell, Apollyon felt a familiar thrill of excitement. Her previous practice with wandless magic had given her a deep understanding of the principles behind Levioso, and she was eager to apply that knowledge now. With a practiced swish and flick of her wand, she focused on the feather in front of her, channeling her intent through the polished alder wood.
"Leviosa," she whispered, and the feather lifted from the desk, rising steadily into the air. A smile of satisfaction spread across her face as she maintained the spell, the feather hovering obediently before her.
Professor Flitwick, making his rounds through the classroom, paused by Apollyon's desk, his eyes widening in approval. "Excellent control, Miss Black," he praised, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "A perfect execution of Levioso on your first try. Ten points to Ravenclaw."
Apollyon's heart swelled with pride at Professor Flitwick's praise, though the awarding of house points was not her primary motivation. For her, the true satisfaction came from the successful application of her knowledge and the mastery over the spell itself. She was already thinking ahead, her mind racing with the possibilities of further refining her technique and exploring the depths of her magical abilities.
With the class still practicing, the low buzz of chatter and the occasional frustrated or triumphant exclamation provided a cover for Apollyon to experiment further. She wanted to push her boundaries, to see if she could replicate the spell's effect without the direct use of her wand. It was a daring endeavor, especially in a classroom setting, but her curiosity and desire for mastery compelled her to try.
Holding her wand loosely by her side, Apollyon focused on the feather, which had settled back on the desk. She mimicked the swish and flick motion with her free hand, her mind sharply focused on the spell's intent. "Leviosa," she murmured under her breath, not a sound escaping her lips this time, her concentration solely on the flow of her internal magic.
To her delight and relief, the feather stirred, then slowly lifted off the desk once more. It was a subtler movement than before, lacking the robust confidence that came with wand-assisted casting, but it was unmistakably effective. Apollyon felt a surge of excitement at the success, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of the achievement.
She was keenly aware of the potential consequences of being caught practicing wandless magic in class. It was a risk, but one that she felt was worth taking in her quest to understand the full scope of her abilities.
Apollyon's successful wandless levitation of the feather marked a turning point in her magical practice. The initial thrill of the achievement was quickly overshadowed by a deeper, more pressing realization: her journey at Hogwarts was not just about excelling within the confines of her classes, but about pushing the boundaries of magic itself. The urge to explore the full extent of her abilities, to understand the limits and possibilities of wandless magic, grew stronger.
With a quiet resolve, Apollyon decided to embrace this path fully, regardless of the risks involved in revealing her unique skills. The sensation of mana flowing through her, responding to her will without the medium of a wand, was exhilarating and felt fundamentally right. She was determined to explore this aspect of her magic more openly, to integrate it into her studies and practice in a way that would truly test her potential.
Setting her wand on the desk, Apollyon focused intently on the feather once again. This time, she didn't even bother with the pretense of a hand movement. She concentrated on the essence of the Levioso spell, on the feeling of lifting and lightness, and projected that intent directly from her core.
The feather rose smoothly into the air, its ascent steady and controlled. Apollyon felt a connection with the spell that was more direct and intimate than any she had experienced through wand casting. It was as if she and the magic were one, the distinction between the caster and the spell momentarily blurred.
She was aware of the curious glances from some of her classmates, the whispered speculations that began to bubble up around her. But in that moment, Apollyon was unfazed by their attention. The potential discomfort or repercussions of her actions seemed a small price to pay for the advancement of her magical knowledge and the fulfillment of an inner urge that she couldn't fully explain—an instinctual understanding that she needed to push herself to her limits now, for reasons that felt important, even if they remained just out of reach of her conscious understanding.
As the Charms class came to a close and students began to pack up their belongings, chatter filling the room with plans for the rest of the day, Professor Flitwick's voice cut through the noise, gentle but firm. "Miss Black, could you please stay behind for a moment?"
Apollyon paused, her heart skipping a beat. She nodded, signaling to Marietta, Cho, and Lena that she would catch up with them later. As the classroom emptied, leaving her alone with Professor Flitwick, she felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension about what he wanted to discuss.
Professor Flitwick climbed down from his platform and approached her, his expression serious but not unkind. "Miss Black, I couldn't help but notice your practice of wandless magic during today's lesson," he began, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of curiosity and respect. "It's quite rare for a first-year, or any student for that matter, to demonstrate such control and understanding of their magical abilities."
Apollyon swallowed, searching for the right words. "I've been practicing," she admitted, her voice steady. "I find that it helps me understand the spells on a deeper level, and I wanted to see if I could apply that understanding in class."
Professor Flitwick nodded, his demeanor softening. "I commend your initiative and your talent, Miss Black. Wandless magic is a complex and advanced form of spellcasting that requires great discipline and control. It's clear you have a natural affinity for it."
He paused for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. "However, I would encourage you to be cautious. While I have no doubt in your abilities, wandless magic can be unpredictable, especially when learning new spells. It would be wise to practice new spells with your wand first, to ensure you have a firm grasp of them before attempting them without."
Apollyon listened intently, absorbing his advice. She understood the wisdom in his words, recognizing the importance of balancing her eagerness to explore her capabilities with the need for caution and responsibility.
"I understand, Professor," she responded, her respect for him growing. "I'll make sure to practice new spells with my wand first. And I'll be careful with wandless magic."
Professor Flitwick smiled, the warmth returning to his eyes. "Very good, Miss Black. I look forward to seeing how your talents develop. Hogwarts offers many opportunities for gifted students like yourself, and I'm here to support you in your magical education."
As she left the classroom, Apollyon felt a renewed sense of purpose and determination.
Reinvigorated by Professor Flitwick's encouragement and advice, Apollyon decided to spend the time before lunch in the vast expanse of the Hogwarts library. She felt a magnetic pull towards the towering shelves and the quiet that enveloped the room, filled with the promise of knowledge waiting to be discovered. The library, with its endless rows of books covering every conceivable subject in the magical world, was a sanctuary for her inquisitive mind.
As she wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailed along the spines of the books, each title whispering possibilities. Her recent foray into wandless magic and Professor Flitwick's cautionary words had ignited a desire to delve deeper into the theory behind magic itself, beyond the practical applications she'd been exploring.
Her search led her to a secluded corner of the library, where she found a tome that seemed to call out to her—a thick, leather-bound book titled "The Essence of Magic: Understanding the Core of Spellwork." The book was old, its pages edged with gold, and when she opened it, the air around her seemed to hum with the depth of the magic contained within.
Settling into a chair by the window, where the light was just right, Apollyon began to read. The book detailed the complexities of magical energy, describing how it flowed through the world and the beings within it. It spoke of the "mana core" that every magical creature possessed, a source of their power, and how mastering one's connection to their core could enhance their spellcasting abilities.
"The key to advanced magic," the book posited, "lies not in the complexity of the spells one casts, but in the understanding and manipulation of the raw energy that powers those spells. True mastery comes from within, from a deep connection to one's own magical essence and the ability to shape it according to will."
Apollyon was captivated. Here was a text that aligned with her own experiences and intuitions about magic, one that offered insights into the very foundations of magical practice. It spoke of concepts that resonated with her own, sometimes chaotic, experiences of magic, suggesting pathways to control and refinement she had not considered.
As she read on, the book delved into advanced techniques for channeling and directing magical energy, including exercises for strengthening one's connection to their mana core. Apollyon absorbed every word, every idea, feeling a sense of validation and excitement growing within her. This book, she realized, could be the key to taking her magical abilities to the next level, to truly understanding the essence of her power and how to wield it with both precision and creativity.
The bell signaling the end of the morning's free period pulled Apollyon back to the present.
Reinvigorated by the insights gained from "The Essence of Magic," Apollyon made her way to the Great Hall for a quick lunch. The bustling atmosphere of students sharing tales of their morning adventures and speculating about the afternoon's classes was a stark contrast to the solitude and quiet of the library. However, Apollyon found herself only partially engaging with the conversations around her, her mind still wrapped in the theories and concepts she had just explored. She ate quickly, her anticipation for the afternoon's lessons growing with each bite.
Her next class was Potions with Professor Snape, a subject she approached with a mix of eagerness and trepidation. Snape's reputation for strictness and favoritism towards Slytherin students preceded him, and Apollyon was keenly aware of the challenge that lay ahead. As she made her way to the dungeons, the cool, damp air seemed to echo her own mix of feelings towards the subject—Potions required precision and understanding, qualities she valued, but it also demanded patience and subtlety, areas where she felt she had room to grow.
The Potions classroom was an intriguing space, lined with shelves full of ingredients and cauldrons of all sizes. The air was thick with the scent of various potions, some pleasant and others less so. Professor Snape stood at the front, his presence commanding immediate silence as he surveyed the class with his piercing gaze.
"Today," Snape began, his voice smooth and unyielding, "we will be brewing the Draught of Peace, a potion that requires not only an understanding of its ingredients but also a mastery of technique. Mistakes," he paused, his eyes sweeping over the students, "will not be tolerated."
Apollyon listened intently, her excitement for the practical application of her knowledge tempered by Snape's stern warning. She carefully gathered her ingredients, each one selected with consideration for its role in the potion. As she began the brewing process, her mind returned to the book she had read earlier, contemplating the flow of magical energy through the ingredients and how it could be directed to achieve the desired outcome.
The process was challenging, requiring her to balance the precise addition of ingredients with the control of the potion's temperature and the timing of her stirs. Apollyon found herself drawing upon her deepening understanding of magic, visualizing the energy flows and adjusting her techniques accordingly.
As the class progressed, Snape moved through the rows of students, critiquing techniques and pointing out errors with a sharpness that left no room for argument. When he reached Apollyon's cauldron, he paused, observing her work with a critical eye. After a moment, his expression shifted, the slightest nod acknowledging her competence.
"Acceptable, Miss Black," Snape said, his voice betraying a hint of surprise at her success. "It seems you have a grasp of the fundamentals. Keep it up."
The class ended with Apollyon feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment. Her potion was not perfect, but it was a testament to her ability to apply her knowledge and intuition in a practical setting. As she cleaned her station, she realized that each class at Hogwarts was an opportunity to explore and refine her magic, to push beyond the boundaries of what she thought possible.
In the waning light of the afternoon, Apollyon made her way back to the secluded clearing near the Forbidden Forest, a place that had quickly become her sanctuary for magical experimentation. The solitude it offered was a stark contrast to the bustling halls of Hogwarts, allowing her a space to explore the depths of her abilities without restraint.
As she stepped into the clearing, the familiar sense of peace settled over her, mingling with an undercurrent of excitement for the work ahead. Drawing her wand, she centered herself, taking a moment to connect with the flow of mana within her. She could feel it, vibrant and alive, a pulsing energy that awaited her command.
Apollyon began with a simple Levioso, the spell now familiar and almost too easy. She cast it with a flick of her wand, watching as the chosen object—a small, fallen branch—rose effortlessly into the air. But this time, she pushed further, tapping into the darker, more volatile aspect of her magic, the part of her that was inextricably linked to her nature as an Obscurial.
As she directed the spell, she allowed her Obscurial essence to intertwine with the flow of mana, lending the spell a weight and presence it had lacked before. The branch didn't just levitate; it moved through the air with a purpose, as if it were an extension of her will, its movements more precise and controlled.
Encouraged, Apollyon moved on to more complex spells, each cast with the added depth of her Obscurial magic. A Lumos produced not just light but a glow that seemed to pulse with power, illuminating the clearing with an intensity that was both beautiful and slightly unnerving. A simple Incendio ignited a controlled blaze that crackled with dark energy, the flames dancing in patterns that mesmerized and commanded attention.
With each spell, Apollyon felt a deeper connection to her magic, a sense of unity between her human and Obscurial selves that was both exhilarating and slightly daunting. The spells she cast carried a signature of her unique magic, a blend of light and darkness that was wholly her own.
But it was not just the visual effects of her spells that were altered. Apollyon could feel the difference in how they were cast, the way her mana responded to her commands with a newfound agility and strength. Her practice in the clearing became a dance of power and control, a test of her ability to harness the raw energy within her without being overwhelmed by it.
As Apollyon left the seclusion of her clearing, the realization that night had fallen more quickly than anticipated sent a jolt of urgency through her. The shadows of the Forbidden Forest stretched long and ominous, and the castle, with its many towers and turrets, loomed in the distance, its windows aglow with the warmth of hearth fires. Hogwarts at night was a breathtaking sight, but the beauty of the scene did little to quell her growing concern over the impending curfew.
Quickening her pace, Apollyon retraced her steps, the lessons of the day and her experiments with magic momentarily set aside in the face of a more immediate challenge: returning to her dormitory before the corridors of Hogwarts were patrolled by the vigilant eyes of the prefects and the ever-watchful gaze of the professors.
The castle's massive doors loomed before her, and as she slipped through the entrance, she was greeted by the familiar, comforting scent of aged stone and parchment, a sharp contrast to the crisp air of the evening outside. The corridors, dimly lit by the flickering light of the torches that lined the walls, were mostly deserted, the majority of students already safely ensconced in their common rooms or dormitories.
Apollyon navigated the labyrinthine hallways with a practiced ease, her mind still on the elusive temporal magic she had sought to master. The quiet of the castle around her provided a stark backdrop to the rush of her thoughts, a reminder of the vast and ancient magic that permeated every stone of Hogwarts.
As she approached the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, the answer to a riddle posed by the enchanted knocker the only barrier between her and the safety of her house, Apollyon allowed herself a brief moment of relief. The riddle, a challenge she had come to appreciate, was quickly solved, and she stepped into the common room with minutes to spare before curfew.
The warmth of the room, filled with the low murmur of voices and the occasional sound of pages turning, welcomed her back. Her dormmates, Marietta, Cho, and Lena, looked up from their various activities, expressions of curiosity and mild concern on their faces.
"You made it back just in time," Lena remarked, her voice tinged with relief.
Apollyon nodded, a weary smile crossing her lips as she recounted the evening's adventures, leaving out the more esoteric details of her magical experimentation. The conversation that followed was light and filled with the shared anticipation of the next day's lessons, a reminder of the camaraderie that had begun to form among them.
As the clock chimed the hour, signaling the start of curfew, Apollyon excused herself, her thoughts already turning to the mysteries that awaited her, both in her studies and in the depths of her own magic.
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