Prideful Investigation

The hallway's dim lighting cast eerie shadows that danced along the walls, creating an atmosphere of tension and unease. Lucas stood firmly, his body poised for action as he summoned a paper-thin wall of ice that rose from the floor, only to shatter into a thousand shards when struck by the wizard's deadly Avada Kedavra curse.

The razor-sharp ice shards jetted towards Lucas, whistling through the air like miniature daggers. But he reacted swiftly, conjuring a fire wall that melted the shards to nothingness with a hiss of steam. Knowing he had to move quickly, Lucas began the mental visualization for Wind's Gale and Water's Swell, a powerful air and water combination spell that would enhance his movement speed to that of a trained adult athlete. Simultaneously, he strengthened his magical shield, fortifying it against the onslaught of dark curses he knew would come.

"You can't hide forever!" the wizard's gravelly voice echoed down the hallway, his words laced with malice.

Lucas's foresight proved accurate as a multitude of sinister spells hurtled towards him from the wizard's wand, their eerie glow casting flickering shadows on the walls. The wizard's gaze betrayed his knowledge of Lucas's invisible location, and Lucas frowned as the first spells impacted his wavering shield with a series of muffled thuds.

Reaching into his jacket, he retrieved his Elemental Sphere, the smooth surface cool against his palm. His mind tried to understand how the wizard could possibly know his whereabouts when he was invisible and soundless. The logical answer quickly came to him – he must have crossed some form of alarm spell or ward that revealed his location to the wizard at all times. He briefly felt nervous, but he swiftly pushed it aside, steeling his resolve.

Without hesitation, Lucas began sprinting at his enhanced speeds, fleeing from the wizard's office as the wizard tracked his movements with unwavering accuracy. The hallway blurred around him, the shadows elongating and distorting as he raced past.

In a desperate attempt to subdue his adversary, Lucas tried to levitate the wizard, focusing his will on his body. But his grip simply slid off the wizard's body, as if deflected by an unseen barrier.

"You'll have to try harder than that!" the wizard taunted, his laughter echoing mockingly through the hallway.

A frown creased Lucas's brow as he wondered if perhaps all magical beings shared an innate resistance to being grasped directly by pure magic. If that wouldn't work, he would have to try something else.

Lucas dodged as the wizard conjured tens of birds, their flapping wings momentarily obscuring his vision with a flurry of feathers. But it didn't matter – his Thermal Currents of the Vast Sea allowed him to see through the feathered diversion, the birds' body heat glowing like tiny embers in the darkness.

Ignoring the birds, which couldn't penetrate his barrier, Lucas continued fleeing from the wards, only for the wizard to suddenly apparate directly in front of him, wand at the ready. The wizard's face was twisted into a cruel sneer, his eyes glinting with malice.

Without hesitation, Lucas fired a Frostfire Beam straight at the wizard, the air crackling with energy as the blazing torrent of frost and flame erupted from his outstretched palms. But the wizard quickly shouted "Protego Maxima!" conjuring a powerful shield that deflected the blazing attack with a resonant boom.

While the two traded blows, Lucas focused his attention on the ground behind the wizard, causing an earth spike to erupt and pierce the air towards the wizard's head with a dull rumble.

"Foolish interloper!" the wizard spat, his words laced with disdain. "You should've ran when –"

Sadly, the wizard's wards remained active, and he swiftly apparated behind Lucas once more with a sharp crack. Spinning around, Lucas unleashed a giant blast of air that emanated from his entire body, directed towards the wizard. Simultaneously, he cast a Sticky spell on the wizard's shoes, hoping to impede his ability to apparate.

The wizard attempted to dodge the blast of air through apparition, but the unexpected Sticky spell hindered his escape, causing him to splinch – leaving behind grotesque, bloody footprints where his feet had been. Lucas whirled around, his gaze falling upon the wizard's screaming, footless form lying on the floor, his face contorted in agony.

"Impossible!" the wizard howled, his voice raw with pain. "How could you...?"

Smirking, Lucas summoned two spears of condensed earth and banished them towards the wizard's body with a flick of his wrist. As the wizard tried desperately to apparate away, Lucas enveloped him in calming magic, disturbing his Determination and Deliberation to apparate. The wizard's failed apparation attempt left him vulnerable, and the twin spears of condensed earth tore through his hands with a sickening crunch, severing them from his body and sending his wand clattering to the ground.

The wizard's agonized screams reverberated through the hallway, his cries echoing off the stone walls. Ignoring the wizard's torment, Lucas stooped to retrieve the fallen wand, pocketing it with an exhausted yet satisfied smile. He turned his attention back to the maimed wizard and spoke in a calm, almost soothing tone that belied the brutality he had just inflicted.

"Thank you so much for the wand. Why don't you relax and let me heal you?" Lucas's voice was laced with mock concern as he crouched beside the wizard's mutilated form. "I only want to take a peek into your mind..."

oo0ooOoo0oo

The Ministry's Auror office pulsed with a steady rhythm of activity, quills scratching against parchment like the scurrying of countless insects, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter that echoed through the cavernous space. Finnius Greentatch, a fresh-faced Junior Auror, leaned back in his chair, exchanging banter with his colleagues as they swapped tales from their latest assignments, their voices mingling with the ambient hum.

Mid-conversation, the office door swung open with a resounding thud, the hinges groaning in protest. A Senior Auror strode in, his brow furrowed and his robes billowing behind him like the wings of a great bird. "Listen up," he barked, his voice cutting through the chatter like a knife, commanding the room's attention. Finnius felt a chill run down his spine as the Senior Auror's gaze swept over the gathered Aurors, his eyes narrowing with a sense of urgency.

"We've got a situation involving a bunch of dead Muggles. One of you needs to investigate." A heavy silence fell, broken only by the shuffling of feet as the Junior Aurors averted their gazes, suddenly engrossed in their paperwork, the scratching of quills ceasing abruptly. Finnius grimaced, already sensing the inevitable. He could feel the weight of his colleagues' stares, their unspoken amusement palpable in the air.

"Greentatch," the Senior Auror said, his gaze landing squarely on Finnius, piercing him like a well-aimed curse. "You're up." A groan escaped Finnius's lips, his stomach twisting into a knot as his friend, Ellery, clapped him on the back with a sympathetic chuckle that rang hollow in Finnius's ears.

"Rotten luck, mate. Stuck with a bunch of dead Muggles." Finnius shot Ellery a withering look, his mind already conjuring images of the grisly scene awaiting him, the stench of decay assaulting his nostrils. "Probably just another case of them offing each other," he muttered, unable to mask the disdain in his voice, the words leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. "Violent lot, Muggles."

The Senior Auror gestured impatiently, his fingers drumming against the doorframe with a loud rhythm that echoed through the office. "Come on, Greentatch. My office, now." With a resigned sigh, Finnius rose, his chair scraping against the stone floor, and followed the Senior Auror down the corridor, the scent of aged parchment and ink lingering in the air, mingling with the musty odor of old tomes.

As they entered the dimly lit office, Finnius sank into a worn leather chair, the creaking of the well-used material punctuating the silence. He braced himself for the unpleasant details, his hands on his knees.

"The Muggle Prime Minister contacted us about this one," the Senior Auror began, his voice grave, the flickering candlelight casting ominous shadows across his features. "More than thirty heavily armed Muggles found dead in a closed building, no signs of struggle. It's as if they all suffocated without putting up a fight."

Finnius's brow furrowed at the mention of "heavily armed Muggles," the two words clashing in his mind like oil and water. Muggles, with their feeble weapons and fragile bodies, were no match for the might of wizardry. Still, he remained silent, knowing that his boss wouldn't care.

"The Prime Minister suspects magic," the Senior Auror continued, his gaze hardening, the candlelight reflecting in his eyes like twin flames. "And based on what I've heard, I tend to agree. Could be Muggle-baiting, could be something more sinister. Either way, we need to get to the bottom of this."

Finnius nodded, his curiosity piqued despite his initial reluctance. "I'll check it out," he said, unable to mask the trepidation in his voice, the words catching in his throat. "But if I encounter anything magical, I'll come straight back for backup."

The Senior Auror's lips curved into a grim smile, a fleeting expression that sent a shiver down Finnius's spine. "Wise move, Greentatch. You've got a few years under your belt now, but better safe than sorry." He slid a thick folder across the desk, the parchment rustling like dry leaves, the sound amplified in the stillness of the office. "Here's the dossier."

Finnius reached out, his fingers brushing against the aged parchment, the texture rough and unyielding beneath his touch.

oo0ooOoo0oo

Finnius approached the cordoned-off office building, his heart pounding in his chest like a caged bird. The air was thick with the acrid stench of fear, mingling with the metallic tang of spilled blood. A burst of voices assaulted his ears, as Muggle police officers barked orders, their radios crackling with static.

As he neared the barricade, a burly officer stepped forward, his face etched with lines of fatigue. "Sir, you need to stay back," he said, his voice unyielding. "This is an active crime scene."

Finnius felt offended, his fingers twitching towards his wand. How dare this filthy Muggle presume to give him orders? But as he surveyed the bustling area, teeming with uniformed officers and curious onlookers, he swallowed his pride and nodded curtly, backing away from the barricade.

Slipping into a nearby alleyway, Finnius glanced furtively over his shoulder before extracting his wand from the folds of his robes. With a soft murmur of "Homenum Revelio," he swept the area, confirming that no humans lurked in the shadows. Satisfied, he flicked his wand towards himself, whispering "Repello Muggletum," erecting an invisible barrier that would repel any Muggle who ventured too close.

Emboldened, Finnius strode back towards the building, his footsteps echoing against the pavement like the steady beat of a drum. As he approached the barricade, a young officer turned, his eyes widening in surprise. But before the Muggle could utter a word, Finnius brushed past him, the repelling charm deflecting the officer's attention like a gentle breeze.

The stench of death assaulted Finnius's nostrils as he stepped through the doorway, his eyes watering from the overwhelming stench of decay. The hallway was lined with still forms, shrouded in white cloth, their outlines disturbingly human-like. Finnius swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, as he surveyed the grim scene.

Steeling himself, he approached the nearest body, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. Glancing around furtively, he extracted a small satchel from the depths of his robes, plunging his entire arm inside. His fingers closed around the familiar contours of the Reflecto-Memorex, and he withdrew the device, its runes glimmering faintly in the dim light.

With practiced movements, Finnius positioned the camera before the dead Muggle's eyes, his lips moving in silent incantation. "Speculum Memoriae Captura," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

The Reflecto-Memorex hummed to life, emitting a soft, pulsating glow. Finnius held his breath, his eyes fixed on the camera's display screen, as a blurry image began to take shape.

A table materialized, surrounded by three men engaged in a game of cards. Their faces were indistinct, but their body language spoke of camaraderie and friendly competition. Suddenly, the scene shifted, the players' expressions twisting into masks of panic as they clutched at their throats, gasping for air.

Finnius's grip tightened on the Reflecto-Memorex as the viewpoint rose, revealing the men floating helplessly, their limbs flailing in desperation. A gun hovered ominously on the table, its barrel swiveling towards an unseen target, before the image plunged into darkness, the memory fading to black.

A chill ran down Finnius's spine as he lowered the Reflecto-Memorex, his thoughts wandering. This was no ordinary Muggle crime – there were unmistakable signs of magic at play. His gaze darted around the hallway, searching for any hint of movement, any telltale sign that the perpetrator lingered nearby.

With a sharp crack, Finnius disapparated, the alleyway materializing around him as he stumbled forward, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew he had to report back to the Senior Auror immediately, before the trail grew cold.

oo0ooOoo0oo

The door closed behind Lucas with a soft click, sealing him within the sanctuary of his room. His gaze swept over the familiar surroundings, lingering on the blood-red lines etched into the walls – a powerful ward to keep the Dursleys at bay, their very presence as muggles repelled by the spell-infused blood.

A soft whisper of scales against floorboards heralded the arrival of Nyx, his ever-present companion. The serpent slithered across the wooden boards, coiling herself at Lucas's feet, her obsidian eyes fixed upon the wand clutched in his hand.

"Lucas," she hissed, her forked tongue flicking out, tasting the air. "Do you plan to use the wand?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Lucas's lips as he lowered himself to the ground, crossing his legs beneath him. His fingers traced the intricate carvings etched into the wood, feeling the grooves and ridges beneath his fingertips. "I'll certainly give it a go," he murmured.

He paused, his brow furrowing as a pensive expression settled over his features, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, his posture tense. "Though I have a feeling that if I grow lazy and rely on this wand more and more, it will only weaken me in the future."

Nyx bobbed her head in a serpentine nod, her scales catching the flickering candlelight, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Lucas rose to his feet in a fluid motion, his movements purposeful. He pointed the wand at a small sphere of earth he had conjured earlier, the surface marred by intricate whorls and ridges.

With a deft swish and flick, he intoned, "Wingardium Leviosa."

The earth ball readily floated upwards, hovering at the height of the wand's tip, defying gravity with effortless grace. A bark of laughter escaped Lucas's lips, the sound echoing off the walls like a peal of thunder, his shoulders shaking with mirth. "I can truly understand why wands and other magical foci took over the entire world," he said, his eyes alight with mirth.

Turning to Nyx, he shook his head in disbelief, his lips curved into a wry smile. "That was the easiest piece of magic I've ever had to perform. It barely required a miniscule trace of intent compared to my normal spells – no real effort at all." His brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he considered the implications, his grip tightening ever so slightly around the wand. "I just had to point the wand, say the magic words, and have a normal thought about wanting to float the ball, and it worked. Intent was almost irrelevant."

Emboldened, Lucas flicked the wand once more, his voice ringing out with confidence, reverberating through the room like a clarion call. "Lumos!"

The wand's tip burst into a brilliant glow, bathing the room in a warm, radiant light that seemed to chase away the shadows, banishing the darkness to the farthest corners. Lucas sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with the motion, shaking his head at the ease with which the magic flowed, his eyes wide with something akin to disbelief.

"Indeed, if people had any difficulty with this kind of magic, they'd be better off with a wand," he said, his voice contemplative. His free hand clenched into a fist, the knuckles whitening with the force of his grip. "They shouldn't even bother trying to do magic without one if they couldn't even manage these spells, where the requirements are so low."

A thoughtful expression crossed his features as he considered the spells, his brow furrowing, his lips pursed into a thin line. "Of course, it's almost certain that higher difficulty spells exist, and I'm just using first-year spells right now, so I can understand why they're so easy."

Curiosity flickered in his eyes as he raised the wand once more. "Now, let's try one more spell – this time, transfiguration."

With a smooth, forward motion, he intoned, "Serpensortia!"

The end of the wand exploded in a burst of energy, a shockwave of power that seemed to ripple through the very air. A long, black snake surged forth, coiling upon the ground with an angry hiss. The serpent reared back, its obsidian scales glistening in the sunlight, reflecting the flickering light like a thousand tiny mirrors as it looked at its surroundings, tasting the air with its forked tongue.

Lucas observed the creature he had conjured, his head tilted in curiosity, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Simply a smidge of intent to summon a snake, coupled with its visualization swimming in the boundless sea, was enough to enact the spell," he mused, a subtle smile touching his lips. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he pondered the ramifications, his posture easing slightly. "Visualization plays a crucial role in Transfiguration. It seems my proficiency with the Vast Sea Visualization technique grants me a significant edge in this branch of magic."

Leaning forward, his movements slow, he addressed the snake in a low, sibilant hiss, the words rolling off his tongue like liquid silk. "Can you speak?"

The conjured serpent fixed him with an unblinking stare, its tongue flicking out, tasting the air as it hissed unintelligibly, nodding its head in response, its movements jerky and unnatural.

Lucas's brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he sent a probing tendril of Legilimency into the snake's mind, only to find... nothing. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes narrowing as realization dawned, his shoulders tensing once more. "So, somehow the wand spell has conjured a living snake that can understand Parseltongue, but not speak it. Most likely, it wasn't actually summoned from somewhere in the world, but rather created through magic."

Curiosity piqued, he addressed the serpent once more, his voice low and commanding. "Stay there and don't move."

As the snake coiled obediently upon the floor, its movements unnatural to a trained eye, Lucas sank back to the ground, his gaze fixed upon the wand cradled in his palm, his fingers tracing the intricate carvings with a feather-light touch. There was one spell, in particular, that he longed to try – one that could help even him.

Apparition.

His heart quickened at the mere thought, a thrill of anticipation coursing through his veins, his pulse thundering in his ears like the beat of a war drum. Yet, even as confidence swelled within him, a nagging thought held him back, a tendril of doubt worming its way into his mind. If an accident were to occur, if he were to splinch...

A shudder ran through him, his body tensing, his muscles coiling as if bracing for impact, as his mind conjured vivid images of mangled flesh and splintered bone, the very thought annoying him. What would he do then? His healing spell, while invaluable for minor ailments and injuries, would be woefully inadequate in the face of such a catastrophic event, a mere bandage on a gaping wound.

He remembered the existence of spells dedicated to undoing splinches, but the books and movies never showed the incantation or wand motion. A wry smile twisted his lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he shook his head, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. It would be the greatest joke in existence if he were to die because of a foolish mistake – a splinched Apparition attempt without the knowledge to reverse the damage, his ambition outstripping his caution.

With a sigh that seemed to emanate from the very depths of his being, Lucas turned his attention back to the conjured snake, watching as it coiled and uncoiled upon the floor, its movements hypnotic, almost trance-like. Sure enough, around ten minutes later, the serpent dissipated into a wisp of smoke, fading from existence as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving no trace of its presence.

"Interesting," Lucas murmured, his eyes narrowing as he considered the implications, his fingers tapping the wand. "Most likely, I could extend the conjuration time by putting more intent into the spell, and by putting more effort into the visualization."

Satisfied with his experimentation, at least for the time being, Lucas rose to his feet, looking at the wand in his hand. "The wand is an amazing tool to perform magic easily," he concluded, his gaze sweeping over the room, lingering on the blood-red lines on the walls and the shelves filled with minor magical objects. His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "But I have my own way of doing magic, and I'd like to keep it that way."

With a final, lingering glance at the wand, his eyes narrowing as if committing every detail to memory, he tucked it away, the wood disappearing into his jacket with a whisper of fabric against skin.