15 Chapter 15: Year’s End
<i>Fear is an energy you need to tame through skill and discipline The thought resonated</i> in Magnus's mind, as he ignored the appraising look Quirrell was giving him.
The man was a cowardly squirrel, a muggle studies professor who wanted to find some thrill and earn some respect by becoming an instructor in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yet in his quest for recognition he found himself possessed by the wraith of Voldemort, who now controls his every action; leading him to commit the worst of actions, drinking the cursed blood of a most innocent being was naught to the corrupted shade.
And now, this abomination of a half-man was looking at Magnus. The worst disaster to befall the wizarding world, the one who made many a student here orphan was currently carefully inspecting him.
He finished the written exam pretty quickly, a relatively simple questionnaire on what they studied through the year; The treatment for werewolf bites, some information about the some of the unfriendly creatures that roamed the land and some theory on dark charms.
Now was the time for the practical exam, which would count for half of his final grade.
"N-Now Mr. Ar-Ar-Arran. Can you cas-cast the s-s-smokescreen spell?" Asked the annoying monster, though Magnus would take the stuttering mess over the snake behind his head.
"Fumos." Incanted Magnus.
The tip of wand producing a thick cloud of smoke toward the target that was placed to that effect, drastically reducing the visibility.
"V-very good, ca-cast the knockback jinx." Said the professor, waving his wand to rid the area of smokes.
"Flipendo." Cast the boy.
The wooden target was sent hurling into the wall with great force, shattering it to piece. The knockback jinx was a classic dueling spell, extremely useful for self-defense. It would send the target flying backward with varying degrees of force, being potentially lethal when enough magic is channeled into a more vicious intent.
"Very good Mr. Arran, very good. Now cast the red sparks spell" Said the turbaned man, his voice disturbingly steady.
The man didn't notice that he stopped his stuttering, his eyes wide open as he seemed to discuss something in his mind, but Magnus did notice, and he did not like it.
"Vermillious Tria."
From the tip of his wand, a flurry of bright red sparks erupted, damaging the target. Vermillious or red sparks was not a real offensive spell, though it is used in dueling at time, it's real application is as a warning or signal.
The use of the 'duo' and more powerful 'Tria' spell modifiers could make it more viable for battle of course, something that would surely earn him more points.
"Excellent work Mr. Arran, I will be watching your progress closely." Hissed Quirrell.
<i>Did I just receive a compliment from Voldemort?</i> Thought Magnus, a shiver running through him. He received a compliment from one of the most mentally deranged, twisted being this world hosted.
-BREAK-
The first year's exams were an easy thing; the written parts being child's play for Magnus, whose lust for magical knowledge could not be sated and who already absorbed his whole curriculum and then some.
While the practical's, beyond the defense which he isn't likely to ever enjoy, with the kind of teachers he'll have, were a simple pleasure; a respite from mind-numbing alchemies and complex enchantments and intricate transfigurations he was accustomed to.
What was animating a pineapple to dance when he once did the same to a student? It might've explained the pompous boy's abysmal performance, trauma could really ruin things.
There was nothing to be said about how transfiguring a mouse in a snuffbox compared to the transformation of objects into living creatures he was working on.
Brewing a forgetfulness potion similarly, didn't hold a candle to the nice bottles of Polyjuice he kept in his trunks; safely protected in a potion case he charmed with appropriate cushioning and freshness preservation spells.
As for his other courses, he did not care enough about them to bother remembering the details; but Magnus could tell you all about self-stirring cauldrons and the meanings behind Canis major.
His exams were thus passed with flying colors, even in Herbology where he was not gifted in the slightest. He couldn't care less about that, as it was entirely expected to ace them considering his fanatical practice, flawless work ethics and considerable talents; yet McGonagall was nonetheless pleased with that, so it wasn't that bad to find some pride in that success.
'Accept the compliments, own the glory.' Said the older witch, who made a duplicate of his results for safekeeping.
Yet obtaining the results of his labor meant the end of the school year, and the start of a new chapter in the life of Magnus Arran. Who was intent on building the foundation of his prosperity during that time, for might and gold were often one and the same.
Gryffindor had won the house cup, defeating Slytherin and Ravenclaw by a few dozen points. Potter, Granger and Weasley's stunts had of course no relation with the disappearance of Quirrell.
Magnus couldn't care less about some meaningless trophy his head of house would put in his study, no more than he cared about Quidditch; a less than glorious sport he would outright loath if it wasn't an opportunity to practice flying, something he enjoyed very much.
The popular wizarding sport, as Magnus was quick to notice, did not make any sense because of one single reason; the seekers.
Quidditch would work perfectly fine and be way more entertaining if not for that single position that somehow had the right to decide the whole game. It looked like the seeker position was created by some rich, young lord who wanted to be the main character.
Beyond that, every single student managed to pass their exams. Magnus of course came first of the year, much to a bushy haired witch's ire. His more than Outstanding performances in Charms, Defense and of course Transfiguration coupled with his Outstanding Potion and Astronomy grades and Exceed Expectations in Herbology and History of Magic were enough to assert his presence as the best first-year.
McGonagall was more than thrilled to not only win the house cup, but to see the first and second positions filled with her protégé and a gifted witch of her house. The old woman had allowed a smile to rest on her face for days, and was ecstatic during their final meeting; though her mirth was lessened by the extended period of time before their next meeting.
And just like that, in a final flurry of glory, wonder and magic; Magnus Arran left Hogwarts.
And as he came back to the muggle world, where he was once more alone, the amber eyed boy did not fret at all. It was time for him to fulfill his ambitions, to take another step toward his goals.
He would acquire the necessary power to overcome all obstacles, so that his life can be sweet and peaceful. And while his magical growth would be stunted by the laws of the ministry, Magnus knew there was more than one way of accumulating power.
With a thousand plan in mind and two months to spare, Magnus Arran walked forward, head high. He was not the weak, destitute orphan anymore. No, he was but a proud eagle whose wings are growing steady;
<i>All in pursuit of magic. </i>
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Hey guy! It's Uncle Sheo!
This is but a small chapter i made right now, i'll be going back to work in a few minutes so i didn't have much time. Consider it a bonus chapter, as i initially wasn't going to write one today.
The first year ended, finally. Magnus discovered Hogwarts, learned many a charm, conquered the basics of transfiguration and researched all he could about the wonder of Magic.
It was a long year for him, he navigated into an advantageous political position; being friendly with many a pureblood heir and otherwise admired or loathed by the other students. He got rid of Dumbledore suspicions, lost a bit of faith in yet another person but in turn found solace and comfort in the company of Minerva McGonagall.
This may be the last year that does not stray from Canon.
Peace and Cheese!
