12 Power for a Purpose

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November 3, 1990, 8:23 AM, The Great Hall

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I speared a piece of scrambled egg with my fork and slipped it into my mouth, pausing briefly to bask in its slightly savoury taste. It seemed the House Elves had taken my request to slightly salt my eggs on board.

Muttering my thanks, I placed my cutlery beside the plate and rolled my sleeves up to my elbows. It'd become quite apparent to me that wearing a wizarding robe wasn't really a necessity— the only times I had to wear it were for really important things like the feasts at the start and end of the academic year.

Thus, I usually opted to walk around in my school jumper and slacks. Honestly, it was quite reminiscent of my high school uniform from my previous life.

Slowly but surely, I chewed my way through a plate of scrambled eggs and two slices of toast before I was disturbed by a slight nudge to my elbow.

"Don't you have a detention today?" Katie asked, looking at me over the rim of her goblet.

I nodded at her and looked towards the High Table. Meeting Ancile's eyes, he offered me a curt nod before reengaging in a pleasant-looking conversation with Professor Flitwick. "But it isn't for a good hour or so."

As expected, news of my 'detention' had entered the ears of my friend, though not before reaching the feline pair that my Head of House possessed. The stern witch hadn't said anything to me in particular, but her pointed stares and slightly stricter demeanour towards me during class was evidence enough.

'Though I reckon my supposed disrespect towards a member of staff would certainly ruffle her feathers— or fur as it were.'

Looking down, I stared at my plate of food with enough intensity to burn a smouldering hole through the table that held it above the ground.

But it wasn't the object of my thought, no, that position was reserved for my soul. I'd thought over it, puzzled over it, even dreamt of it and at long last I'd come to a conclusion.

Using the Dragon Aspect shout had done a little more than its intended effect. It had partly awakened the dragon within. Not to the extent of the shout itself, but quite a bit more so than before.

'Or were you just suppressing it?'

That was also possible— heck I had done it on multiple occasions. At first, I'd brushed over it after leaving the room, courtesy of the high I'd been riding. Though a good week later, I was now able to analyse the problem with as much calm as I could.

And to be completely honest, what happened was… surreal. It wasn't an out of body experience, or at least not entirely, but it was hard to put into accurate words.

Simply put, I was usually more myself than the Dovah.

Make no mistake, the Dovah was always there, but my mortal side usually won the fight for dominance nine out of ten times. But by using the Dragon Aspect shout, the Dovah was given greater control and the mortal side of myself took a backseat for a good half an hour.

That wasn't to say I was a different person. In fact, all my desires, thoughts, and behaviours remain the same, but are perceived and acted on them as a dovah would. Things like morality and faux pas didn't really matter to a dovah, only the goal— and anything that caught their interest.

The Dov themselves all had defining qualities. Alduin his pride, Odahviing his curiosity, and Paarthunax his rejection of the inherent, basal desires brought about by the dovah sil.

Maybe that's why he looked so decrepit. Alduin, someone who Paarthunax saw as an older brother, was far sprier. His rejection of the dovah sil's many desires may have been what resulted in his feeble-looking appearance.

'Though adopting the Way of the Voice did come with its own boons as well.' I thought as I swiped my remaining slice of toast off my plate and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Katie asked.

"Library," I replied. Despite the twinge of guilt pulling at my chest, the lie had slipped out of my mouth almost as naturally as the truth. "I need to do as much work as I can before the detention."

She hummed and took a bite out of her jam sandwich. "Okay, once you're done with your detention, meet me at the path to the fields."

I nodded and walked around the table, slipping between tables and across the hall until I reached the large oaken doors.

It took all I had and more not to start chuckling in excitement. After almost three months in this world, I was about to learn something that would help me for the rest of my life in the magical world.

'Let's see what detention has in store for me.'

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Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom, 9:45 AM

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Raising the cup to my mouth, I blew softly at its contents, making sure that I held its saucer under it as per my mother's instructions. 'Thank Akatosh she made sure I knew how to hold myself in a formal setting.'

I swallowed the hot liquid, the citric taste gracing my mouth giving me an inkling as to what it was comprised of.

"Lemon Tea?" I asked.

Ancile sat opposite me and held a cup of tea in his calloused hands. Upon hearing my question, an appreciative glimmer entered his eyes. "Indeed. Il tè a limone is my preferred form of tea— though thanks to marking schoolwork, I find myself drinking more coffee than tea these days. "

He shifted and placed his cup and saucer on the table.

"At any rate, I think it's about time now," he stood up, and my cup of tea floated out of my hands, managing to stay completely balanced before settling down onto a table situated at the very far end of the classroom.

I felt a stab of annoyance and looked up at him with a questioning frown.

"Don't worry, there'll be some more time for tea later."

With one fluid motion of his arms, majestic curtains fell over the windows and the tables and chairs were cleared away towards the sides of the room in neat rows and columns. This left quite the wide space to work with.

"Tell me, Asim," Ancile said without missing a beat. "What is necessary to cast a spell?"

"Magic." my reply was instant, and I felt the velvet of shame spread across my cheeks. Gathering my wits, I hurriedly tagged on an explanation. "Well that, wand movements, and the proper intent."

"Interesting…" he muttered, looking at me in a new light. His previously curious gaze had become evaluative. "What do you mean by 'intent', if you don't mind?"

I swallowed somewhat nervously. "Well I think that to cast a spell successfully, one must first make sure to mould their magic into an appropriate form— that explains the use of wand movements."

He looked at me in a way that I could only describe as encouraging, but said nothing.

Taking it as a positive sign, I continued, "After that, the caster must grab the spell by the reins and imprint their will upon it. With the Fire-Making Charm, you have to will your magic to take the form of a flame— I've found that visualisation helps with that. If I can imagine the spell's form in my head, I usually have a far easier time casting it."

Finishing my explanation, I waited with bated breath for Ancile's reply. "You're both right and wrong."

His almost damning statement was like a blast of cold water to my confidence.

"How?" I replied instantaneously.

"Asim, what is accidental magic?"

His question was out of the blue and sent me reeling. A few moments later, I managed to collect myself and give him an answer.

"Accidental magic is a term for instances where infants display the ability to wield magic." I said. "It's how families find out whether or not their child is a Squib. If by the age of eleven, they are unable to display any form of accidental magic, the child is then classified as a Squib."

"Indeed," he replied. "But why does this happen?"

I halted. His question took the wind out of my sails. I furrowed my brow and gave his question a great deal of thought.

'Usually, it's because of intense emotion— like wanting something and then floating it towards you. Though Harry does end up apparating to the top of a building so I think there's a little more to it.'

I supposed there was no harm in voicing this out loud.

"Intense emotion?" I questioned and was emboldened to continue thanks to Ancile's nod. If his expression was encouraging before, it was downright anticipatory now. "Children desire something as a result of intense emotion and their magic responds accordingly?"

"Exactly!" he said. "Now, apply that same concept to spells."

An excited smile tugged at the corners of my lips. If nothing else, the man was certainly a good teacher.

"Spells are powered by both magic and emotion." I said. But the statement brought forth a myriad of questions to mind. "But sir, if that's truly the case, then it'd be really difficult to do, no?"

He nodded his head. "It is. Why do you think the school is so adamant on teaching wand movements and imagination?" he asked and paused for an answer, continuing when he got none. "See, that works to an extent, but it's like using training wheels for a bicycle. It's a starting point— a precursor towards what I'm going to teach you in these next few months."

I tilted my head quizzically. "Which is?"

"This," he said, drawing his wand from his sleeve.

The effect of it was instantaneous. I didn't know if it was a result of becoming more in-tune with myself, but I could feel it immediately. The very magic in the air began to hum and the hairs at the back of my nape stood on end.

Something was going to happen. Something big.

"Expecto Patronum."

At first, there was nothing. Then the candles mounted across the walls sputtered out of existence, plunging the room into darkness.

That's when I saw it. A soft, dewy mist filtering through the end of his wand. It grew more substantial with every drop, both in form and colour.

I couldn't tear my gaze away, nor did I want to.

Ancile twirled his wand around like a conductor and the soft mist followed. He cast intricate, swirling patterns in the air that left lingering trails of light that shimmered and twinkled— all the while, the mist grew even brighter.

Soon, the silvery light bathed the very room in an empyreal shroud. I watched him brandish his wand, my eyes tracking its every movement.

With a final flourish, he raised his wand to the sky and my vision was bathed in an explosion of silver light

Blinking away multicoloured spots and inky blotches from my vision, my mouth gaped at the sight before me.

His patronus was a… panda. I wanted to laugh, but I knew how terrifying Pandas could be, and this one was no exception.

Its gargantuan body rippled with muscle that not even its round exterior could hide. The panda circled around Ancile, on guard, and despite its laid-back appearance, its eyes were alert and darted around the room for any possible threats.

Part of me wanted to walk up to it and do something; roar at it, challenge it, but my more logical side decided that I was happy where I stood.

The panda took a seat beside Ancile, its shoulders rolled forward and back hunched. For a moment, the room was completely silent, and I was content with observing the panda roll around the ground.

My voice returned eventually, and I managed to slip out a question that had been plaguing my mind since he cast the spell.

"This is amazing sir," I said. "But I still don't understand your point. Why are you showing me this?"

Ancile tutted and lowered his wand. "Think back to our earlier discussion. If spells are powered by emotion directed by one's will, then what is the Patronus Charm?"

"A spell that takes the form of one's spirit animal. It protects wizards from the foul beasts of darkness— Dementors, Lethifolds and other such creatures."

"It also requires wizards to use an emotion that they may not currently be feeling." he said and began to circle around the panda. "When a dementor enters a wizard's vicinity, it feeds on the very emotions necessary to power the Patronus Charm, correct?"

I nodded.

"The Patronus Charm is a spell that more than a few adult wizards struggle with." he paused and turned on his heels to face me directly. "It requires the utmost control and understanding of oneself. What makes you tick, what brings joy to your life and what infuriates you."

"To elaborate on this, there are spells that use emotions so visceral, so basal, that you must be in tune with the very essence of yourself to cast them properly." his steely grey eyes met my own. "And it is what you will be doing your best to master."

At that, my eyebrows shot upwards.

"But Professor!" I exclaimed, my stomach performing twists and turns at his demand. "I'm only 12, and you said there are adults who struggle with the Patronus Charm."

To be completely fair, I wasn't really twelve, but I felt I wasn't ready for such a charm.

'You're forgetting that you can cast a pretty strong Shield Charm'

The unbidden thought made me pause. Though it happened out of necessity, I knew that if I did it once, I'd be able to do it again.

"And?" Ancile asked. "This will be your steppingstone. If you can understand how to use your emotions to power your spells, you'll be well on your way to becoming a great wizard. This is the next step in your journey, Asim, and you will not be alone." he pointed to himself. "I'll do my best to instruct you with the limited time that we have together."

He flicked his wrist, pushing back the royal purple drapes, casting rays of sunlight into the room and turned to the panda still lazing on the floor. It drew its gaze upwards and offered him a solemn nod before fading away in a series of delightful twinkles.

I took a moment to take in the sight of the beautiful morning, absorbing the warmth of the sunlight. Then, Ancile sparked to life, striding across the room until he stood directly before the blackboard.

He lazily waved his arm at the door, and locked it shut. Another swipe of his hand and I felt something pass through me and rush out towards the rest of the room.

'I wonder what that was?'

"Prepare yourself!" he barked, holding his wand upright.

I suppressed a surprised gasp before steeling my resolve— my wand was in my hand with a mere flick of my wrist. I had made sure to leave a considerable distance between the professor and myself, eyeing him cautiously.

The first spell came at me in a flash of brilliant ivory light. I deftly sidestepped it and returned with one of my own. "Depulso."

Not a moment later, the spell was batted aside with practised ease— though it was something I'd expected.

I circled around him, looking for any gaps in his defence. Unfortunately, there weren't any that I could see. Growing tired of the suspense, I sent forth a gout of orange flame.

Paused for a moment to collect myself, and slashed forwards. "Stupefy."

Ancile slowed down the flames' journey and extinguished it before it could reach him. I smothered a flash of annoyance, though it quickly turned into shock once my Stunning Charm was sent hurtling towards me.

I lowered my centre of gravity and heard it sail over my head, hissing and sizzling. Rising up, I stared at the man with a healthy amount of trepidation.

If he could completely dominate my will over my own spells, he was a lot more powerful than I gave him credit for.

"Don't tell me that's all you're capable of?" Ancile asked mockingly. The tip of his wand glowed a deep purple— charging up a spell that I was all too familiar with.

'Fuck, it's this shit!' I groaned. 'One of these days I really need to figure that spell out…'

"You wish." I shot back, inhaling sharply through my nose.

Gripping my wand tighter, I felt the rough etching against my palm and raised it, trailing a vertical line through the air.

Invoking my desire to guard myself, I chanted the words to the spell, "Protego." and a solid-looking white shield materialised before me.

I smiled. 'It looks a lot more solid this time around.'

"Oh?" Ancile's voice rang out. "The Shield Charm, eh? You seem to be full of surprises!" I could hear the smile in his voice. "Let's test it out then, shall we?"

He immediately threw his purple blast at me, dyeing my vision in tyrian light. My wand arm shuddered under the force of his spell, but for the moment, my shield remained strong.

"Your shield's still up?" I could hear the surprise in his voice. "No matter." he remarked, readying his wand.

I was drowned under a salvo of spells. Each slamming against my shield with the force of a sledgehammer.

My arm shook and I felt my feet sliding backwards under a particularly nasty vermillion blast.

'Damn it!' I thought as I noticed the beginnings of cracks forming along the edges of the shield.

With every spell, the cracks spread, and I was pushed farther away from the centre of the room. I struggled, persisted, and pushed, but it was all futile.

Ancile moved with the grace of a dancer, his wand arm twirled, releasing one spell after the next. His face was free from any strain, and I found myself wondering if he was a bottomless pit of magic.

Before I knew it, my back was against the wall, and my shield in tatters. Taking a moment of rest, I pushed myself off the wall and tightened my grasp around the base of my wand.

Gritting my teeth, I pumped more magic through my wand, solidifying my desire to stop anything from getting past my shield.

I watched a series of ripples travel along the shield, repairing the spider web of cracks, restoring my shield to its original strength.

Despite the obvious challenge, I felt a smile that could only be described as feral stretch across my face.

With my shield newly strengthened, I began to make my way forwards under Ancile's onslaught. Each spell struck with a flash of light and a thunderous noise, but I remained steadfast and dare I say it, calm.

Bracing my feet, I leapt to the side and dispelled my shield, all the while amassing my focus for one final spell.

Bouncing to my feet and jabbed my wand forwards with a final roar. "Incendio!"

My previous bolt of flame was nothing compared to what was currently in front of me. The heat alone was enough to make the strongest of men baulk. It rolled across the room, the stone floor underneath it beginning to melt.

Sweat pooled underneath my armpits and my clothes stuck to my skin— at the moment that was the least of my worries.

If this spell failed to do anything, I was completely spent. My body was already screaming with fatigue, and I was just about ready to throw in the proverbial towel and call it a day.

I watched the ball of raging flame make its way towards the professor. The closer the flame got towards him, the smaller it grew, until it was nothing more than a candlelight sat atop his wand.

I stared at him with widened eyes.

'This is insane!' I thought. 'How am I supposed to fight that?!'

"A most impressive display indeed." Ancile said, extinguishing the flame with a flick of his ash-coloured wand. "You cast a charm taught almost exclusively to the Sixth Year and above more masterfully than the students themselves."

"So, what happens now?" I asked, pulling over a chair from the side of the room.

"Now," Ancile waved his wand, levitating tables and chairs back to their normal positions. "You go and practise the Patronus Charm in your spare time and come back to me with your progress next week. I advise that you start off with a happy memory and see where it goes."

Ancile repaired the damage to the room with a flick of his wand and levitated the pot of tea with its accessories over to his desk.

"Now, would you care to join me for a cup of tea?"

Standing up with a smile, I dusted off my uniform and walked over to his desk.

"Of course, sir." I replied, and though my body was weary, I was filled to the brim with satisfaction.

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