Chapter 18 : The Trophy's Room
As Draco and I made our way towards the Trophy room, navigating through the ever-shifting staircases of Hogwarts, I couldn't help but observe him. Despite his arrogance and rich background, there was something about Draco that I found oddly relatable.
Perhaps it was our disdain for mediocrity. I never wanted to be one in the crowd. It felt irritating and stupid.
THUCK
We leapt over a moving staircase, narrowly avoiding disaster. But the same can't be said for Crabbe who had missed his jump and was now hanging from the edge, I decided to strike up a conversation.
"Do you happen to know on which floor the Trophy room is on this week?" I asked Draco, attempting to distract him from Crabbe's predicament.
Meanwhile, I used the Levitation charm to lift Crabbe on the stairs.
Draco glanced at Crabbe with a mixture of disdain and indifference before responding, "It's on the 3rd floor this week. Flint checked it out for me."
THUD
I nodded in acknowledgement as Crabbe was settled on the floor, both for the spell well done and also because I was impressed by Draco's resourcefulness.
"How did you manage to levitate Crabbe? Isn't it impossible to use Levitation on living things?" Draco asked me with genuine curiosity evident in his tone.
I took a moment to think over my response, carefully explaining the Levitation magic. "It's not impossible, but it's generally considered inefficient. Levitation creates a layer of magic over the surface of an object, effectively nullifying the effects of gravity and allowing the caster to manipulate its movement. However, living beings possess an inherent resistance to external magical manipulation, which I believe is due to the presence of life or soul within them. This innate resistance rejects the foreign magic, particularly when it comes to the intent behind the spell."
Draco listened intently, absorbing the information. To my surprise, he given a counterargument, questioning my theory. "But there are plenty of spells that can affect living beings. If your theory holds, shouldn't all spells fail when used on living targets?"
I chuckled at his scepticism, shaking my head in response. "It's not that simple. The effectiveness of a spell on a living target depends on various factors, including the skill of the caster, the nature of the spell itself, and the resilience of the target. For instance, while Dumbledore may be able to Levitate an elephant effortlessly, even he would struggle to affect a dragon with the same spell."
As Draco and I continued our conversation about the intricacies of magic, I delved deeper into the topic of spellcasting and its nuances. "Furthermore, spells differ in the amount of magical energy they consume, which can bypass the resistance. It was the case just now." I tried to explain, hoping to make the complexity of spellwork clearer.
Draco nodded thoughtfully, his interest piqued by my explanation. "Then what about the intent?"
I smiled, recognizing Draco's genuine curiosity, It was surprise to see other shades of a character only shown to be spoilt and racist in Canon.
"Healing magic, for example, relies on the caster's knowledge and belief in their good intentions," I explained further, "as intent for it to work. Like all magic, it ultimately comes down to magic reserves and intent. The correct intent will make the spellwork easy."
Draco absorbed the information, his expression shifting as he tried to understand the concept. It was when he nodded that , and I felt a sense of satisfaction at teaching something useful.
It is a weird quirk of mine if you didn't get it till now. I like to show off my smarts. The easiest and best method is teaching.
Unexpectedly, Draco offered a rare compliment that proved my thoughts about myself, "You are good at teaching this stuff," he remarked and walked as if his pants got caught on fire.
I couldn't help but chuckle at his awkward attempt at praise. "I appreciate the sentiment, Draco, but your compliments could use some work," I teased, unable to resist poking fun at his stiff manner.
Even Crabbe and Goyle, usually silent bystanders, nodded in agreement, echoing my words. "Yes," they mumbled in unison, making me burst out laughing.
Draco, fully knowing about my teasing nature, quickened his pace, eager to change the subject. "We've arrived on the third floor," he announced, a hint of relief in his voice.
I grinned mischievously, enjoying our banter. "Only ten more corridors to go," I replied playfully, "plenty of time to teach finer points of complimenting, don't you think, Draco?"
SNORT
With a roll of his eyes and a disgruntled snort, Draco led the way.
====Trophy Room====
In the dimly lit room, Crabbe and Goyle stood as guards on either side of Draco, who occupied the centre chair with his wand in hand.
While Draco focused on tending to his wand, I found myself drawn to the walls adorned with portraits of past head boys and head girls. While I scanned through images, I couldn't help but be impressed by the grandeur of the room. The trophy which seemed to expand with each passing glance as if to show the age of Hogwarts.
My eyes finally found the portrait of Tom Riddle, the last person to join Slytherin as a Muggle-born.
Beneath the portrait, a plaque and an award commemorated his special contribution to Hogwarts.
I couldn't help but reflect on the irony of fate. Here was a man, whose handsomeness I could see to be on par with Tom Cruise, who had ultimately succumbed to Black magic. His handsome features twisted into the grotesque visage of Lord Voldemort.
KATA
KATA
KATA
THUD
As I stood in the Trophy Room, lost in my thoughts, the peace of the room was shattered by the arrival of four lion kids. I recognized them immediately: Harry and Ron, the Gryffindor duo who had been challenged by Draco, accompanied by Hermione and Neville.
THUD
Neville's stumble on to the floor easily caught my attention. A subtle sign of apprehension. But it would likely provoke Draco's ire. Draco hates any kind of clumsiness and embarrassment. Even in others.
As expected, Draco wasted no time in making a cutting remark, his words laced with disdain. "You know, Potter, if you wanted more duellists, you could have done better than Her and even worse, you brought a cowardly squib."
Neville's shoulders slumped at the barb, while Hermione's expression darkened with anger at Draco's casual cruelty towards her and Neville.
I am sure If she had any doubts about the duel before, they had vanished now.
Harry and Ron, their expressions told me they were ready to retaliate. Seeing the tension escalating, I knew I had to intervene before things turned ugly. "Not really," I interjected calmly, stepping forward to diffuse the situation. "I think Neville has too much magic, on the contrary."
The Gryffindors were taken aback by my voice that came from behind them, their wands twitching nervously in their hands. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle mirrored their actions, ready to defend me if need be. Scoffing at their standoff, I focused on Neville, extending my wand towards him with a confident gesture.
"Egritudo," I murmured, casting the diagnostic spell with precision. Instantly, a stream of information flooded my mind, each detail meticulously gathered and analysed by my AI.
I felt a surge of satisfaction as my previous life's medical knowledge proved invaluable in deciphering the data.
Hermione stepped forward; her voice tinged with curiosity as she explained the diagnostic spell to her puzzled friends. "The Diagnostic spell, Egritudo," she began, her words confident and precise. "It's the cornerstone of the diagnostic branch of Healing magic, constantly updated by each specific diagnostic spell learned by the user."
I nodded in agreement. "Indeed," I affirmed, "the spell relies heavily on the healer's knowledge and expertise. It's not just about casting the spell but also interpreting the results accurately."
Even the nuances of magical healing and diseases were not a problem on me. Even if I have not yet learned them, I meticulously updated my database with information on magical maladies, ensuring that I was well-versed in both mundane and magical healing practices. The ROR is the second-best thing that happened to me, right after the AI.
[ AI info from Diagnostic spell: Neville Longbottom.
Male.
Age: 11 years 5 months 2 weeks.
Condition: Slightly obese with a surprising amount of muscle that is suggesting a Ritual or Elixir enhancement.
Currently, brainwaves suggest confusion.
Magic Reserves= 35 L]
The Brain and Mind research of the Magic world is decades ahead of the Muggle world, enabling a proper scan of each state and emotion. Making even various Neural diseases like Dementia treatable with Mind healers.
I used the same Diagnosis spell on the rest while explaining, " Egritudo is versatile enough that it can be adjusted just with the parameter to be scanned. In this case, I scanned your Magic reserves. It is measured in L, based on the Lumous. If you want to know more, you can ask Flitwick. "
In the first magical Healing text I read, the units classified as L existed bursting my bubble of discovering a way to measure Magic. Considering the same L to be used by me before entering magic society, my hurt Ego wants to scream.
But the painful truth for my ego is that it is just a cruel coincidence.
"Carbbe and Goyle have 24 and 26 L, respectively," I announced, watching as they absorbed the information with curiosity. "Hermione has 20L, Ron surprisingly has 28 L, while Draco boasts 40 L."
"As the highest among us, Harry's magical reserves stood at an impressive 65L, surpassing even my own at 50L. "
Well, well. As expected of the Savior status, or more precisely, the chances of my hypothesis about him being true are rising.
Leaving everyone to think about the significance of the results, I turned my attention to Neville, whose magical reserves were unexpectedly high, standing at 35L. His lack of magical training made his potential all the more interesting.
Because unlike Harry, Neville's reserves must be either natural or Grandma Longbottom has some secrets.
"You have quite the magical reserves," I remarked, offering the nervous kid a reassuring smile. "With proper training, your reserves could quickly climb towards Draco or me. If we consider natural magical reserves as talent, then you might be the most talented one here after Harry."
Neville seemed taken aback by my words, his expression one of disbelief. "But I can never do a spell right," he muttered, his voice was filled with self-doubt. "Even my accidental magic is late, requiring my uncle to throw me from the third floor to occur."
I sighed, understanding his frustration. "The difficulty with spellcasting might be due to your wand," I explained gently. "It's not yours; it's bonded to someone else At least, that's what my spell tells me. I thought it was important for you to know, but ultimately, it's up to you to decide what to do with this information."
Neville's grip on his wand tightened, his chubby face changed from his chaotic emotions.
[Brain wave update: subject is determined]
I don't need the ongoing spell to see the determination in his eyes, a silent resolve not to let go of his wand, no matter what.