Contemplations

As Deacon's eyes wandered, he lost sight of the owner of the bushy hair and the spell which could read his mind read his mind. 

So it was a student huh?

"Your eyes wander, so does your mind. Perhaps the spell is still being cast on you?"

The voice sparked in his ears, its soothing yet hoarse voice bringing him back down to earth for a good minute.

Just as he started to phase back into reality he could see that Neville had been carried away but Madam Hooch, knowing how the storyline was supposed to go, he glanced briefly at the sky.

Lo and behold our favorite Orphan and Young master, duking it out in the skies.

At this point, Deacon had to tune out the cheers and voices. It was getting annoying but he had endured the entirety of elementary school as a boy with an adult mind, he could probably deal with middle school the same way.

But of course, he could not let his eyes shy away, magic was entirely new to him in both lives. Truth be told if he didn't stop himself from constantly thinking about his past lives then he wouldn't be able to enjoy this one.

However, he had to admit it was a bit weird for him to consider the thought of dating when he was mentally thousands of years old. His mind had corroded much more ever since he merged souls with Godrick.

The thought of a normal school life was weird for him as well, the thought of having to write essays for everything was a bit chilling but he could probably skim through. Unfortunately, he couldn't just study something and then forget about it because the skills he would learn in this school would be essential for him in daily life.

...

[Rolling... Considering Destiny... Done]

1. Skill: Rubber Floor

2. Anarchists Cookbook

3. 3 Dollar Bill

...

As he watched Potter and his estranged lover Malfoy brawl in the skies, Potter suddenly fell off his broom and plummeted towards the ground in a torpedo-like fashion, Malfoy's face contorted into fear, as he dove towards Potter on his broom, and... caught him.

This was certainly new, but just as Malfoy caught the back of Potter's robe, the ground beneath them twisted and contorted, what was previously grass and dirt turned into a pale gray rubber. It would have seemed as if it had been there since they entered the courtyard if it weren't for the sounds of a balloon twisting that were released upon its creation.

Deacon was sure that there was an outside factor to all this, his emergence in the magical world created a domino effect. First, it was the strange mind attacks, now this? He was certain that it was the system that he had upon reincarnating.

For what purpose was the system here though?

It wasn't for any world domination purposes, the first time he rolled he truly got junk, of course, other than Godrick's soul. Which has altered his mental state quite a lot. 

He remembered some previous conversations he had with his friends who all read light novels, fanfictions, etc, that systems usually were produced as a product of the user's desires and had the purpose of making the user stronger. However, the system left him so it wasn't born of his desires else it would have stayed right?

Unless the fusion of the two souls would have caused him to lose the desires that the system was born of, and required the desires of another user? He had certainly heard of a novel where systems were parasites that fed on people's ambitions and desires.

But that was only a theory.

"HARRY POTTER!" the voice of Professor McGonagall spread throughout the entirety of the courtyard. 

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -"

The woman was fuming, her face was red and at the same time strangely pale, perhaps due to the fear that consumed her as she watched one of her students fall out of the sky and potentially die.

But.

Then her eyes turned towards the circle of rubber that lay just below his feet. Strangely enough, there was no magic in that rubber. In fact, it hadn't even started to fade or stop its transfiguration, as accidental magic would usually do. That meant this was an intentional transfiguration and something far above what these students had been taught. 

"Who cast this!" She yelled as she pointed at the changed ground.

As the students noticed it they also started murmuring, no one had come forward but she was sure that this meant one thing. Among this group of first years, there was someone who could quickly transfigure and maintain a change of dirt to rubber, a genius.

Rarely could these students be found but she was going to root them out one way or another.

But that could wait.

"- It wasn't his fault" The red-haired glutton retorted

"That's enough Mr. Weasly. Potter come with me. Now" Her voice was stern and orderly, she enforced her authority over the students.

Now Deacon and the other students were left standing there. Whilst the other students burst into murmurs and gossip, Deacon was left wondering only one thing.

Why was he able to understand Professor McGonagall's intentions right away?

He understood what was going through her head at that moment and he didn't even understand how. Perhaps wizards and witches were much easier to read? Maybe he had a talent for manipulation or legilimency? It was certainly strange and something he couldn't dismiss but was forced to.

After all, his first flight class was over. 

But he would have to investigate these findings later.

Maybe the library will do?

The students around him all wandered off, with a few staying to inspect to ground and others gathered in groups to discuss the events.

He really needed friends but everyone in his house seemed to shy away from him and everyone outside Slytherin seemed to consider it taboo to be friends with him.

His feet glided off the ground as he paced across the stairs that led from the courtyard to the floor where the library was. Every once in a while he could see people from other houses and of his own climbing the stairs with him. Though they all seemed to stare at him with a strange look. One of which he could not decipher the intent behind but still seemed to linger on him. 

As he walked past the rickety doors of the library the smell of paper and sweat overwhelmed him, at first glance, he could see over twelve Ravenclaws simply studying. Doing nothing but study. Notes were piled on desks and he could see some of them staring at the books others held as if the books were prey that must be hunted down.

Madam Pince was right by the door and greeted him with a menacing gaze that seemed to pierce right through him. Intimidating but he knew, somehow, that she felt an overwhelming protectiveness toward these books.

Nonetheless, he had a task, which was to find a book on mental magic and he doubted that it would be that simple.

The bookshelves were sorted between genres, with large sections of the library being dedicated to a singular magic subject. Some were larger, such as potions, and some were smaller, such as arithmancy. But what he soon realized, was that the mental magics... were in the forbidden section.

Truth be told he expected it deep in the back of his head.

"If one thing cannot be learned without force. Why not learn that force and ram your way through it?"

The voice wisely advised him. Although he still thought he might need to visit a psychiatrist this voice was indeed guiding him, it wasn't conversing with him, it was more like the tips on a loading screen.

But it was a good suggestion.

Now what could complement his specialties? He was certainly good at transfiguration, as well as potions. What form of magic could involve these in one shape or another?

...

Rituals? Or more specifically alchemy?

It was something he had not truly thought about but was sure that could work.

But upon thinking the word of ritual, something in him... just popped! Not like a balloon popping but as if there was an invisible joint that he just cracked that was the sort of feeling he'd just gotten.

That sense of taboo, of something being forbidden from him. Yet it was the only thing that he desired.

Forbidden gold.

The quick way to strength. Albeit with a hefty price to pay.