Chapter 14: Build the Future, Defeat the Past.

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Once the dread of an uncertain future no longer rests on your shoulder, time will pass like a gentle breeze as Cronus's unwavering will overcome all mortal perceptions.

This was a reality Magnus faced as the Christmas break ended, students came back from loving families ready for another stay in Hogwarts, and the lessons started soon after.

He spent his days burying himself in his studies, mastering the arcane at neck-breaking speed as his instructors provided him with increasingly challenging material. Much to his surprise, as he didn't believe the faculties would be so accommodating with his scholarly needs.

Some light inquires between some tea during one of his weekly discussions with Professor McGonagall proved him that his stunt with a certain mind-reading Chief Warlock saw the latter allowing his teachers to nurture him properly; regardless of standard curriculums and other growth-stunting inepties. It was something he was grateful for, as the prospect of slowing down his progress for the benefits of less hard-working classmates was a dreadful as it was boring.

No longer needing to show a sociable front to the observant onlookers, he stopped humouring the two-faced vipers and dim-witted sheep that would otherwise waste both his time and brain cells; wasn't it obvious that he couldn't care less about their vacations? He didn't even remember their names!

He thus gladly kept to himself, only spending time with the thin circle he had surrounded himself with in an attempt to collect political support and positive character testimonies in his earlier days.

He now had occasional chats with the two Hufflepuffs he'd befriended, finding the niece of the illustre Amelia Bones good enough company to bother himself with, regardless of her age, lacking maturity and misguided puppy-love for his person. Her friend, a child of house Abbott was nothing much, he wouldn't bother with her in normal circumstances but she was attached to Susan and winning her over wasn't much trouble.

Other companions of his included Padma Patil, and her more cheerful sister to a lesser extent. The former was a calm, collected and rather honest witch. She had high academic performances and didn't jealous his own admittedly monstrous achievements, Padma was as loyal as a Ravenclaw first-year could be and that was enough for Magnus.

Her sister though, was another story. The first-year Gryffindor had integrated perfectly to the intricate, high performance machine that was Hogwarts rumour mill. The cheerful girl kindly informed him of some of the gossip surrounding his person….and the less was said about it, the better.

Magnus would never look at Lavender Brown the same way after the tale she spun…

Another addition to the select few who had the guts to approach him and enough heart not get very acquainted with his newest charmwork were in fact two people, though they could very well be one.

I am of course speaking of the Weasley twins, older students and prankster extraordinaire. Beyond all the obvious mischief, the two of them were honest to merlin good wizards he didn't mind chatting with. Of course, it meant almost dying of laughter, evading a few covert unfriendly charms and dispelling whichever curse they used on his belonging; which wasn't much work to him.

It could be argued that their presence combined comic relief and curse breaking training; something that would inevitably attract Magnus, much to McGonagall's displeasure.

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and in the absence of a looming threat the eagle's wings grew large and strong, uncaring of the petty squabbles of children and weakened wraths.

Beyond distant observation, Magnus did not interfere in the matters of young Harry Potter. There was no need to do such a thing, and though obtaining a Dragon was tempting, he had not the facilities to concretize this idea. Ultimately, the prophesised nemesis of the dark lord received no help from the silent observer, beyond the initial information he granted them.

What he did care about was Quirrellmort, the possessed weakling was a threat that must be neutralised; that much was obvious to the Ravenclaw. Failing that, he would have to monitor him closely and prevent any unexpected casualties.

It was a hard task, the stuttering abomination being a slippery snake, even if he looked more like a squirrel than anything. But beyond his quotidian ventures into the forbidden forest, Magnus needed not worry about the literally two-faced maggot.

His tests were nothing he worried about, being nothing more than formalities at this point; something both students and teachers realised that fact.

Snape's unreasonable wrath had left on its own, the man realizing whatever madness he accused him of was nothing but illusions. They returned to tolerating each-others, if barely.

Much to some ladies' disappointment, he cut his long hair a bit shorter, not appreciating the time he wasted grooming but being too mindful of his appearance not to look his best.

Easter's vacations passed, and June was drawing ever close; the time for students to take their exams and return home, though for some of them, they would in fact be leaving their home for a world of monotony.

It was also time for one Harry Potter and his two companions to have a skirmish with the weakened Professor Quirrell, which would lead to their house receiving an unholy amount of points in the name of confidence building.

This was, however, none of Magnus's concerns; what did concern him though how he would store the quantity of jewels, gold and books he plundered from the room of requirement and its doubly secret aspect; the room of hidden things.

The amber eyed boy was presently in said room, which he had gotten used to altering while still inside; an option that demands more willpower and intent than the classical use but was infinitely more convenient.

Magnus gleefully listed all the treasures he acquired; all the while making an estimation of the price he could obtain from the objects by selling them to less than scrupulous stores in the muggle world. This was of course limited to the precious stones, antiquated golds and other relatively mundane objects.

The standard Hogwarts issued school trunk were charmed with basic enlarging charm, doubling their capacity. He at present limited his wizarding treasury to four pouches of twenty galleons each, which he kept hidden in his trunk, two other pouches of twenty silver sickles and one pouch of thirty knuts where similarly stored inside it.

He would of course like to hoard more, but when he added the few tomes he absolutely needed to keep, his standard equipment and robes as well as the additional gear and ingredients he took from the room of hidden things; he found out that he could only take a few more gems and muggle wealth.

It was obviously Magnus's plan to liquidate all these objects in the muggle world, selling them to different pawn shops for obviously unfair prices would allow him to retain anonymity and discretion instead of alarming the authorities and criminals by disposing of them in a single establishment.

But who would buy precious object form an eleven years old child? You might ask, if you have a more sensible mind than most.

The answer is probably no one, or at least no one who will not outright rob him of his wealth. But it was far less likely to happen if the one selling it was far less likely to happen to a Severus Snape, wasn't it?

Which is why the young eagle kept a stewing cauldron in the room of requirement, one which contained fluxweed, knotgrass, Lacewings flies, leeches and all manner of strange things which necessitate an unholy amount of preparations.

Magnus was brewing Polyjuice.

It was an extremely complex potion, he read in the room's version of Potions Moste Potente; an advanced potion brewing book typically found in Hogwarts' library's restricted section.

It was a most complicated and time-consuming potion, one that was seldom brewed by the unskilled and could go terribly wrong when used; as a rather furry Hermione Granger could attest.

It enabled the drinker to assume to form of another person, regardless of age, sex and race as long as the user possessed a body part of the former; be it dandruff, nails or other disgusting parts, hair would do just fine for Magnus.

Though such a useful effect demanded a hard creation process; did I ever mention the laws of equivalent exchange?

Independent of the actual brewing, the preparation itself was a tricky task on its own. The lacewings flies must be stewed for twenty and one day before the brewing of the potion, for example, and only fluxweed picked during a night of full moon was acceptable. The preparation thus took a whole month to finish, if the potioneer was fortunate.

The actual brewing process was hellish, for a lack of better word. It was a long and arduous process which was only slightly eased by the use of optimal gear provided by the room.

Magnus had let the potion brew for a full hour when used the best copper cauldron he found, after adding the three measures of fluxweed and the necessary knotgrass with appropriate stirring.

At that exact moment, he needed to add the leeches and crushed lacewings flies to the cauldron which he'd heat for exactly thirty seconds on low heat.

This was but the first part of the long process, which involved more minute changes in temperatures, exact additions of carefully prepared ingredients and long brewing times that could easily fail.

It took him a bit over one month to prepare it, after obtaining the ingredients and hair from a certain snivelling, long nosed death eater.

He could of course buy it himself with the galleons he already had to his name, the knight bus being enough to take him to Diagon Alley, But Magnus remembered the bipolar stalker's unjustified ire and could hold a grudge very well.

'Perhaps he was jealous of my long hairs, he did stop glaring at me once I cut them.' The thought was an amusing one to the amber eyed boy, who finished his calculus and adjusted his plans accordingly.

-BREAK-

While an eagle was building his future in the realm of Logres, the continent saw a flower overcoming her past, ready to prosper as a freed witch.

Fleur Delacour spent the rest of the year dedicated to her studies, intent on further spiting her detractors by surpassing them in such a way, excelling to such a level that denying her worth would be impossible.

Academic performances and overt understanding were not enough to cultivate herself to that extent, which where extracurricular activities come in.

From Duelling courses to the enchanting class she loved so much, Fleur was rising too high and too fast for pitiful rumours to damage hers and her family's reputation; something that would surely never change.

And soon, she would return home in triumph; showing her achievements and growth to her beloved family, as she always did.

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Hey guys! It's Uncle Sheo!

Hope you'll like this chapter, some nice Magnus development with a bit of flower on the side. Light foreshadowing and some rather heavy hints for the future of the story were of course present, though few of you found them.

This one was not as emotional or plot heavy as the last, being more of an interlude of sorts between events.

Criticism and advice are always welcome guys, while reviews and stones are good for the kokoro. Sur ce, take care.

Peace and Cheese!