studiobondurri 199: Leveling Up The Magic
199: Leveling Up The Magic
199: Leveling Up The Magic
Harry had been corresponding frequently of late, pouring out his thoughts to Sirius Black.
Before the school term started, he experienced pain in his scar and saw something in his dreams.
He mentioned the pain in his scar to Sirius, who became worried.
Initially, Harry intended to tell Sirius about his dreams, but then Malfoy's words came to mind:
"Potter, you should face me directly, not hide behind your new babysitter."
Harry disliked Malfoy immensely, but those words made him waver.
He realized he had been troubling too many people. Even Hermione tried to persuade him to tell Dumbledore.
But Harry felt he shouldn't bother Dumbledore too much.
In the end, he only told Sirius that it was likely just a psychological effect, leaving Sirius half-convinced.
Hermione, meanwhile, dragged Harry into working on the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (S.P.E.W.). Membership cost just two Sickles, with the funds going toward promotional efforts.
Unfortunately, even at such a low price, no one was interested in joining.
A significant portion of their peers thought the trio had lost their minds, with Malfoy being the loudest among them.
He often mocked Harry, comparing him to a beggar clutching a coin jar.
This left Harry feeling deeply embarrassed.
As he said this, Malfoy would lean in, staring at the badge labeled "S.P.E.W." and laughing uproariously, while smugly flaunting his own intricate and beautiful Constellation Society badge.
On Malfoy's badge, the stars would even shift and change.
Ron huffed indignantly, saying, "If someone like Malfoy can get in, then the Constellation Society can't be that great either."
Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall assigned so much homework that it was practically burying them alive.
Whenever they complained, McGonagall would always wear a stern expression, insisting it was for their own good.
After all, the next school year, they would be sitting for their O.W.L.s.
This exam was incredibly important.
Today was Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
The last lesson had been quite interesting.
Especially for boys of their age, seeing the three Unforgivable Curses was an undeniably cool experience.
Outside of class, the only places one might witness them were among dark wizards or in Azkaban.
But what shocked everyone was when Professor Moody announced that he would be casting the Imperius Curse on each student in turn, to demonstrate the curse's power and test whether they could resist its effects.
Using an Unforgivable Curse on students—this lesson was even more extreme than the first one of the term.
Even Hermione thought it was too much and raised an objection.
"Dumbledore wants you to experience this," Moody said, his magical eye swiveling to fix on Hermione. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to learn the hard way—waiting for someone to cast this curse on you, leaving you completely at their mercy."
"Well, fine, I agree. You can continue," Hermione replied, though her face turned crimson. She lowered her head, clearly reluctant to miss out on the lesson.
After all, this was practice with the Imperius Curse—something no other class would offer.
John felt a bit puzzled.
Dumbledore actually approved this?
Moody pushed the desks to the sides of the room and scanned the students, as though carefully selecting the perfect volunteer.
"Wick, you've experienced this curse before. You should be familiar with it," he said, his gaze locking on John.
It seemed Moody wanted John to go first.
Malfoy's face contorted with anger, and he looked as though he was about to rush forward to accuse Moody of something.
John, however, remained calm, his expression indifferent as he stood and walked to the front of the classroom to face Moody.
Was it his imagination, or did Moody's gaze carry an intense, almost analytical curiosity?
At the very least, he needed to last more than three minutes in a fight. A "three-minute man" sounded less than ideal.
"Hopefully, Voldemort doesn't come back too soon," John sighed.
Since his magic level progression was slow, John had to pin his hopes on improving his skills.
He still had two free skill points, but allocating them required careful consideration.
"Is there some kind of skill that's an instant kill? Like a 'universal equality' type spell?"
Scrolling through the spell list, John scanned carefully.
"Huh? Fiendfyre has leveled up?"
His eyes landed on Fiendfyre, now sitting at level 5.
John paused in surprise. Among all the spells he used, Fiendfyre was undoubtedly the one he employed the least.
While other spells were manageable, Fiendfyre's overwhelming power made it a double-edged sword—once unleashed, it almost always resulted in death or severe injury, and controlling it was notoriously difficult.
He hadn't expected that as his magic power increased, Fiendfyre's strength would also rise accordingly.
"If I use Fiendfyre, does that count as 'universal equality'?"
The sheer destructive potential of Fiendfyre came to mind—it was powerful enough to burn down even the Room of Requirement.
Fiendfyre was a conjured flame, and the caster's control—or lack thereof—did nothing to diminish its ferocity.
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, John considered the possibility. It wasn't entirely out of the question.
The problem was that releasing Fiendfyre would almost certainly label him as a dark wizard.
The aftermath would undoubtedly bring a host of complications.
Other spells, such as Confringo or similar destructive curses, were powerful but didn't have the same "universal equality" appeal.
Avada Kedavra seemed promising at first glance but would still fall short against Voldemort.
"Transfiguration might be worth focusing on instead.."
After a while, he closed the stats panel.
Now that his magic level had increased, the power of his spells had grown significantly as well.
John decided to experiment with Fiendfyre. Compared to his attempt in second year, this time it was clearly much easier to control.
"Could it be because of the elemental magic influence?" he wondered.
After extinguishing the flames, John noticed the rapid depletion of his magic power.
He exited the Room of Requirement just as classes let out.
Heading to lunch, he overheard Malfoy's angry, sputtering complaints.
Malfoy had apparently performed a full dance as a bowtruckle during class under the effects of the Imperius Curse.
Even after shaking off the curse, Malfoy couldn't help but suspect that Moody had done it intentionally.
Daphne, meanwhile, wore a look of pure disgust. She had been forced under the curse to act like a rabbit in front of everyone.
The humiliation was so intense that Daphne lost all interest in cooking for the day—a small blessing for John, as it meant he narrowly avoided any culinary disasters.
I shouldn't feel thankful to Moody for this... I shouldn't...
Despite the absurdity, the lesson had given the students some insights into the Imperius Curse.
Heinrich, upon hearing of Malfoy's embarrassing ordeal, dragged him off with a frosty expression. Rumor had it Malfoy ended up dancing the entire afternoon as well.
Meanwhile, John's complete immunity to the Imperius Curse left the professors dumbfounded.
The students, on the other hand, were abuzz with gossip, dubbing John an ancient wizard who must secretly be over a hundred years old.
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