Chapter 10: First Spells

Chapter 10: First Spells

As I descended the stairs, I encountered a tall and handsome man, who gave me a slight bow upon seeing me.

"Young Master Draco, please excuse the suddenness of my arrival. An opportunity has presented itself, and I couldn't come later, so I felt compelled to come early for the lessons. It's a shame I won't be able to have dinner with you, but if you'd like, we can begin today's lessons right away," he said with great formality and class. He seemed servile, but not like a house-elf. His expression and apologies hinted at something else.

"That's fine, Professor Michael. I appreciate that you've come despite your other commitments. I can see your dedication to teaching," I replied, slightly annoyed by his early arrival but unable to show it without seeming unnatural. I still didn't fully grasp the nature of the previous Draco's attitude.

"Very well, young Draco. If you'd like, we can proceed to the main room where your lessons take place," he motioned for me to go ahead.

"Of course, Professor," I nodded and followed him to the main hall. Field had already prepared everything for the lesson.

"Well, young Draco, I wouldn't want to begin without giving you a proper explanation for the schedule change. I applied for a position as the History of Magic professor at Beauxbatons, and they called me today for an interview. It's a golden opportunity for me, a tutor without experience beyond private lessons," he explained with an apologetic smile, still apologizing for not sticking to the usual schedule. I smiled back as a sign of understanding.

"I understand, Professor. You don't need to explain further; it's clearly a golden opportunity. Perhaps we could push dinner forward if you'd like," I suggested, trying to buy some time, like I had done with Professor Royal.

"I'd prefer to begin the lesson instead, if that's alright. It's possible the lesson will be short as well. If you're ready, why don't we start with a conversation in Spanish? Last week, I assigned you to practice the language a bit more," he encouraged, and I mentally prepared myself as Field had already brought the reading materials and notes.

"That's fine, Professor. I'll start with the reading assignment from last time," I began reading the Spanish textbook. The dialogues were in Spanish, and I performed both parts at a steady pace, neither too slow nor too fast. Occasionally, I glanced at Professor Michael to gauge his reaction, but his expression remained calm, showing neither disapproval nor praise.

After an hour of reading through all the exercises, my mouth was dry, and I struggled with some words. I felt like even speaking my native language was difficult. I couldn't tell if it was a good sign or a bad one that, like the dance professor, the language tutor made no comments and simply observed. Just as I was about to read the last dialogue, Professor Michael raised his hand to stop me.

"It seems young Draco has been putting in quite an effort. Mmm... mmm..." Professor Michael's expression was proud as he gave me a thumbs-up in recognition of my effort. I couldn't tell if he was being serious or just trying to be polite. It's true that Spanish came easier to me because I had studied it in my previous life, but that didn't mean I could surpass Draco Malfoy's months of effort with a single night of self-study. I wasn't sure if I should buy into it; I didn't think the Draco Malfoy before me was worse than my current self.

"Did I really improve that much?" I wanted to confirm whether it was a genuine compliment or just common flattery. The professor's face grew serious at my skepticism, and he placed a hand on my shoulder, assuring me that he could indeed see the effort I'd put in to improve on the mistakes Draco had made for months. It felt surreal, but I didn't dwell on it as he suggested we move on from the book exercises to having a real conversation.

I started to sweat at the thought of having a real conversation. In the past, I'd done it, but it was with teachers I trusted at the boarding school, and I didn't need to prove anything. Yesterday, I'd only managed to follow the conversations between the professor and the previous Draco Malfoy. This could be the misstep that revealed my lack of skill, but I didn't overthink it. After receiving a compliment, if things got worse, I could always claim fatigue from the previous exercise. Besides, the tutor didn't have much time left before his departure, so I couldn't say much more than I agreed to continue.

We started with casual greetings. The professor asked me how my day had been in Spanish, and I responded as best as I could, talking about running, dancing, and reading—nothing particularly interesting. He then began asking me how I felt about the study sessions so far. I couldn't give an honest opinion, as this was technically my first in-person class with him, but I'd seen recordings of his lessons and thought he seemed like a good tutor, so I gave him a small compliment, which lifted his spirits.

He began sharing his ambition to become a permanent professor at a renowned school like Beauxbatons and his aspirations to rise through the ranks. He told me it had always been his dream since taking his O.W.L.s. The entire conversation was in Spanish, and I understood him well. As we talked about other topics, he occasionally asked my opinion on subjects irrelevant to a first-year student, such as the economy, the Ministry of Magic, magical philosophy, and the potential future when the magical society might no longer be able to hide from Muggles. I noticed that Professor Michael supported the idea that wizards should rule over those without magic, simply because it was logical—according to him, wizards lived longer, had a broader perspective of the world, and could come up with better solutions. After all, magic only bloomed in exceptional beings. I smiled, but I didn't fully agree and chose not to argue. 

Eventually, a small clock in his white pants began to chime. He pulled it out, looked at the time, and turned to me with an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, young Draco, but it seems I can't delay my trip any longer. I'll be back next Tuesday. It's a shame we only had one class this week due to the event on the 30th of July," he remarked as he packed his things.

"The 30th of July?" I repeated, somewhat surprised, almost involuntarily.

"Yes, wasn't it the belated birthday party for your mother?" he asked, slightly taken aback by my reaction.

"Yes, yes... ha ha ha," I nodded, trying to play it off. I didn't even know when my mother's birthday was, let alone that it had been celebrated late. It seemed I needed to learn more about the family to avoid looking foolish over such basic details.

"Well, I'd love to chat more with you. It's always a pleasure teaching you," he bowed as he said goodbye. It was a pity he had to leave so soon; I had actually enjoyed our conversation in Spanish, feeling like I had made some progress in the language.

Once the professor left, I had no more tasks to complete for the day. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders, but I wasn't entirely at ease. I still had to deal with the spells. It felt like an impossible task, but I had no choice but to practice, even if it yielded no results. It was better to have tried than to give up from the start.

I asked Field to take me to the library, and Dobby had already prepared all the necessary books for the spells I needed to practice. Among the books were *The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)* by Miranda Goshawk and *Magical Theory* by Adalbert Waffling. They were first-year books from Hogwarts, but I had just bought them. I wasn't sure if I already had similar books or if the private lessons I was taking with my father, Lucius Malfoy, were without reading materials.

While reading the Standard Book of Spells, I realized that it was necessary to study magical theory if I wanted to truly understand how to perform magic. I needed the theory, so I began reading *Magical Theory*. However, when I started the first topic, the book recommended reading *A History of Magic* by Bathilda Bagshot first. I was a bit taken aback. The book suggested that in order to properly learn magical theory, I would need a foundation in history—specifically, the origins of magic and how its usage had evolved over time.

I started reading *A History of Magic*, but when I got to the part where it discussed the development of magic through the ages, the book abruptly shifted to a summary, stating that magic began with the first beings capable of making contact with it. These beings were incredibly powerful, but they were not human. Over time, humans began to serve these beings, and eventually, they took pity on humans and gave them a way to interact with magic. This is where rituals originated, and the magic we use today is still rooted in those ancient practices. The book quickly moved on to another magical tale, but it recommended reading *The Evolution of Magic Through Time* by Jordan Baltiford for a more detailed explanation. This book wasn't included in the first-year materials, so I couldn't find it.

"Dobby, help me find a book by that name," I said, completely immersed in study mode. I only heard Dobby's stammered affirmative before I went back to reading *Magical Theory*, though I still couldn't fully grasp the concept of magical implementation. According to the book, it was necessary to be in tune with the magical organ to effectively perform magic. The book mentioned a 19th-century study that demonstrated how wizards had stopped attuning themselves to their magical organs, as it was inconvenient to constantly be aware of it when magic could be performed without conscious thought. In other words, the organ functioned in the background, much like kidneys regulating bodily fluids, the heart pumping blood, or lungs filtering air. The downside to this practice was that it limited a wizard's long-term potential, so Adalbert Waffling advised young wizards starting their magical journey to always remain aware of the organ and how it moved during spellcasting or any activity involving magic.

"That's quite interesting," I muttered, deeply absorbed in the subject. My concerns about presenting spells to my father faded as I became more fascinated by the magical organ—where it was, how magic had evolved from rituals to modern-day spoken spells, most of which were derived from Latin.

"D-Dobby has found Master's request," Dobby appeared with the book in hand. From the looks of it, Dobby had searched the old library but, failing to find it, had gone elsewhere.

"Where did you find it, Dobby?" I asked, curious.

"R-responding to Master, D-Dobby found the book in Master's new library," Dobby bowed fearfully at the mention of my father's name. I wanted to say something to comfort him, but nothing came to mind.

"Very well, Dobby, you may go. If I need anything else, I'll let you know. Rest well," I dismissed him with a wave, eager to dive into *The Evolution of Magic Through Time* by Jordan Baltiford.

The book seemed almost brand new, as if it hadn't been used much. I began reading to learn how magic, which once started as ritualistic, had evolved. The book provided a more detailed history, explaining that the beings who had taught early humans magic didn't live in our dimension, but they were still part of our reality. These beings had told the early wizards, who later became known as the first magicians, that they came from a place "three raised to the power of three times farther than the entire cosmos," yet were always just around the corner. The magicians of that time couldn't comprehend what these beings meant, but today's wizards theorize that they were creatures from three dimensions higher than our own, though current magic still can't prove this.

These creatures helped the early magicians perform their first magical interactions through ritual magic. The early wizards had to conduct ceremonies involving sacrifices to engage with magic, which would interpret the wizards' requests. These early wizards were called *Zoroas*. The Zoroas were guided by these beings to interpret the stars and perform successful rituals for the benefit of humanity. It is said that these beings assisted the first magicians for a hundred years. After a century, the first wizard with a fully developed magical organ was born. This wizard could interact with magic more easily than the ancient magicians. Over the following decades, more wizards with developed magical organs were born, and they were called *Zaratus*. The Zaratus lived to improve magic through their heightened senses, and it is said that their great abilities allowed them to live much longer than the average human. Upon witnessing the birth of this new race of humans, the extraordinary beings from higher dimensions declared their work complete and vanished without a trace.

"Wow, the history keeps getting more fascinating," I couldn't help but express aloud. Just as I was about to continue reading, Field interrupted me, informing me that it was time for dinner.

After dinner, I eagerly returned to the book. The history was long, detailing how rituals became more specialized, leading to the rise of magical professions, with wizards mastering specific branches of ritual magic. The book concluded with a tale of a magical order housed in a tower on the island of Kasos, where experts in rituals from all fields had gathered. Their task was to create a new form of magic, rendering ritual magic obsolete. Ministries, secret societies, underground orders, and magical authorities all supported this project, which aimed to create what was called "the new magic." The theory came from a wizard named Xia Xiomeng, who had discovered tiny organisms living within magical particles, and he had been able to interact with these small beings. He began developing a new form of ritual magic, known as the "Ritual of Chaos," explaining that chaos existed within magic and that multiple beings moved within this chaos, controlling what we call magic. This study lasted over a thousand years until every one of these organisms had been cataloged. Finally, they chose the most docile and abundant ones to create the new ritual that would give birth to what was known as the 'New Magic'. It marked the beginning of a new magical era.

At the end, the experts in chaos rituals guided the others in performing ceremonial dances, ritual sacrifices, and it's said they even used something left behind by the extraordinary beings of the past to forge a pact between the small, gentle organisms that could help move chaos in magic and humans with developed magical organs. The ritual reportedly lasted 383 days in total, and Latin was used as a sacrificial language to become the future of magical language for this new magic.

The story was fascinating—the birth of modern magic and how Latin became the foundation for the spells we know today. I was so absorbed in the subject that when I finished the book, I felt disappointed. But I now had a clearer understanding of the importance of using the magical organ—not just using it but being aware of it since it was the main tool for a human mage to perform magic like a modern wizard.

"Dobby, go fetch the practice wand," I ordered Dobby. I felt more prepared to successfully perform my first spell, though I still had to reread *Magical Theory*, so I got to work. After going over at least the first sections, I felt more confident about trying my first spells with the help of *The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)*, by Miranda Goshawk.

I looked up the spell I wanted. The first spell I was going to try was called "Lumos," a spell that lights the wand tip like a small torch. It was a beginner spell, and in theory, I could master it within four lessons if I took too long. But according to Dobby, I had practiced two spells with my father, and he wasn't satisfied with the results.

"Well, let's give it a try..." I began to focus on performing my first spell. According to *Magical Theory*, I needed to focus on my magical organ to feel the magic first, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on my brain. The book said that a wizard's brain was somehow connected to the magic in the environment. The challenge with using 'new magic' was that mages couldn't externalize spells correctly or direct them as intended, so the ancient wizards invented the magic wand to serve as a support—a tool to help direct the magic in the environment, which interacted with the brain, in the correct direction. The constant use of magic was said to help the brain eventually use magic more naturally, to the point where the wand wouldn't be necessary. But after thousands of years of using 'new magic,' it had proven difficult for wizards to stop using wands once they became accustomed to them, making wandless magic almost impossible for most wizards.

"Ugh..." It was harder than I thought. I sighed inwardly but didn't stop trying. I wanted to feel how my brain interacted with this magical particle, said to live in the chaos of magic. Ritual mages referred to this magical particle, which was like a docile, helpful living being of great existence, as "Lant," in reference to the language pact made during the ritual to perform magic. This event also marked a before and after for the Latin language. Wizards began working on a plan to make it an exclusive magical language in the future, no longer a common tongue. Today, it's considered a dead language, and that's thanks to the wizards who worked for years to make it so.

"Mmm…" I felt something, a tiny sensation, but somehow it felt like my brain was being gently touched, and I could feel something around me. It was faint, but it was a start.

I tried again, and after several minutes, the sensation became clearer. At some point, I truly felt like I could sense the magic.

"I think I'm ready." I reread the description of the *Lumos* spell, which required thinking of light, visualizing what I wanted to illuminate, and picturing the ball of light at the tip of my wand. Once visualized, I had to trace a lowercase 'e' as if drawing the coil of a stretched spring.

"/Lumos/," I whispered, tracing the spell in the air with my wand, fully concentrated on feeling the magic gathering at the tip.

"Ugh..." I sighed when the spell failed. I was a bit disappointed, but this failure wasn't going to stop me. Tonight, I was determined to at least successfully cast a *Lumos*.

"/Lumos/." Failed again.

"/Lumos/." Another failure.

"/Lumos/." Once more, I failed.

I kept trying, but the spell still wouldn't ignite the light. I could feel the magic gathering at the tip of the wand with my brain; it was a new and pleasant sensation. I kept visualizing the light even though it hadn't appeared yet, always holding the image of the wand being lit in my mind, as the book advised.

"/Lumos/," I tried again.

"/Lumos/." Failure wasn't going to stop me.

"/Lumos/." I was determined to succeed this night, no matter what.

I paused for a moment. I needed to recheck the description of *Lumos* to understand what I was doing wrong and why the spell kept failing. I reread the section on *Lumos* and even skimmed through *Magical Theory* once more.

"I'm not sure..." I was trying to analyze my mistake. The only thing I could think of was that I hadn't yet achieved the right sensitivity between my brain and the magic in the environment to execute my spells effectively.

I began to meditate, trying to feel my surroundings with my brain, visualizing magic in my thoughts, and imagining the feeling my brain gave me when connecting with the environment. I felt this might help me become more attuned to magic.

"/Lumos/," almost unconsciously, as if my body instinctively knew it was the perfect moment, I cast the spell without thinking.

"*Poof*"

A light began to glow at the tip of my wand.

"It worked!" I shouted, proud to have successfully cast the spell. I tried illuminating different parts of the old, dimly lit library, and indeed, the light worked beautifully. I was proud of my effort.

"Now what?" The wand wouldn't stop glowing, even when I stopped visualizing the magic or stopped using my magical organ to feel the magic. Even if I let go of the wand, it continued to glow at the tip. After a few minutes of testing, the wand extinguished itself without my interference. According to what I had read, it seems the spell has a set duration, which depends heavily on the wizard's skill.

"/Lumos/."

"*Poof*"

I successfully cast the spell again, and this time it felt smoother. I was confident that I could now perform it consistently as long as I remembered the sensation from the first time, which had left a strong impression, almost leading me to cast it unconsciously.

"Now for the next spell... Ugh," I sighed, thinking about what was next. I could still see the light at the tip of the wand, and it was time to cast *Nox*, the Wand-Extinguishing Charm.

First, I relaxed my mind and visualized the wand being extinguished while reciting the spell. I ran through the imagery multiple times in my head.

"Ugh…"

I sighed and tried to calm the excitement rising in my chest. I had to trace a lowercase 'c' in a wave-like motion with my wand, practicing the spell in the air while the wand light still glowed.

"/Nox/"

*Puff*

The spell was a success; the wand had gone out. I had managed to perform a spell successfully for the first time, and I felt indescribably proud.

"/Lumos/" I lit the wand successfully.

"/Nox/" I extinguished the wand successfully.

"/Lumos/" I lit the wand successfully.

"/Nox/" I extinguished the wand successfully.

After practicing my two new spells multiple times, I was sure they wouldn't fail me, even during a demonstration with my father.

I was a bit perplexed. Had the original Draco really struggled to perform these spells, or had Dobby gotten confused, and the spells Draco practiced with his father without any other supervision were actually different spells? Deep down, I hoped it was the former.

"Master Draco, it's time for bed; the Mistress wouldn't like-" Field was about to continue with the usual speech he used to make me do certain things, but I stopped him with a hand. There was no point in arguing; I was ready with these spells whether they were the right ones or not, and if they weren't, there was nothing else I could do about it.

"What time is it?" I asked curiously.

"It's 9 PM, young master," Field replied, bowing.

I clearly remembered that I had gone to bed at 8:30 the night before. I couldn't bring myself to look Field in the eyes again. I wasn't sure if the bedtime was different every day, or if this house-elf had actually considered me and waited until I finished practicing my spells. It seemed Field had more of a personality than I had given him credit for.

"Alright, take me to my room," I ordered.

I finally reached my bedroom after a long day, though it felt like it had passed far too quickly.

"Field, please get me a clock. I'd like to have better control over my hours." I hadn't seen Dobby since I dismissed him earlier to practice spells, so with Field present, I thought I might as well ask him to run a few errands.

"But young master, Field will gladly get you a clock for your time management. However, before that, may Field ask the young master Draco a question? With all due respect, of course," the elf bowed at the end, as if he were doing something daring and seeking forgiveness.

"Go ahead…" I replied indifferently. I was feeling good after my recent success with the spells, so my spirits were a bit high, though I was still slightly on guard about what Field might ask. If he asked something I didn't know but should have because the original Draco knew, I could only act as if the elf were being an overly bold servant and scold him.

"The master asks for a clock to keep track of his time, but does the master not already have the clock that Master Lucius gave him when young master Draco first awakened his magic?" he asked, with a tone of curiosity at the end.

"Forgive Field, young master, if Field has been too bold. Field only wanted to know if the master remembered this clock. But even so, Field will get another if the master doesn't take this one into account." Field tried to stick to his role as a servant as much as possible in his speech and actions, but the way he was questioning me felt like a thorn in my side.

I had expected it. He asked something about which I should have known but acted as if I didn't. Field was already suspecting something strange, but saying these things directly would be a bit too bold since I was his master.

"Field, are you trying to tell your master how to do things?" I said, as if I were angry, though I wasn't. In fact, I was a bit scared. I had relaxed too much and was starting to raise suspicion.

"Field apologizes to young master Draco. Field has been too presumptuous. Please, if the master deems it necessary, punish Field as deserved," Field begged, kneeling, dragging his face against the floor.

He had never behaved this way before, so I was a bit shocked. I could expect it from Dobby, but Field didn't seem like the type to ask for punishment. I sighed inwardly and organized my thoughts.

"It's alright, Field. Stand up. I won't punish you… The reason I asked for another clock is… because my father gave me that clock to celebrate my awakening to magic, and only by proving that I can perform it properly and getting my father's approval will I be worthy of that clock. For now, I'll have to make do with any ordinary clock, so don't delay any longer and fetch me one. This clock will be temporary until I'm worthy of my father's gift. Do you understand?" I gave a somewhat convoluted explanation, trying to salvage the situation using some semblance of logic. I didn't want to raise any more doubts about myself, especially not with Field, a house-elf directly serving under my mother's orders. If my mother found out about any unusual changes, St. Mungo's might no longer be an option, and she would likely seek answers for my anomalies—and that was something I wanted to avoid.

"I understand, young Draco. Please forgive your servant's impudence. I will fetch a clock for the young master so he can manage his time better." Apologizing deeply, Field snapped his fingers and disappeared from the room.

"Ugh…" It seems like this long day doesn't want to end.