The Hogwarts Library, located on the first floor contained tens of thousands of books on thousands of shelves. Overseen by Madam Irma Pince, Mikhael spent his free time quoting book references in a notebook. He knew his training helped his magical growth and efficiency, however he lacked versatility and adaptability. In case, where he couldn't overpower or outspeed his opponent, Mikhael would have to rely on his magic knowledge which was currently lacking.
Watching his long list of books on fire spell, spell theory, spell making, dueling, mind arts, wards, runes, ritual and potion, Mikhael realized he wouldn't have enough time to master all those subject. Reading them all could be done during the year, but understanding and mastering them was another story. He had to be careful. The wizard world was dangerous. His house-mates were small threats compared to the hidden death eater who killed his family years ago. Who knew, when another attack like that would occur.
Choosing which subjects to master first was crucial. Some subjects held great potentials like spell making but it would be long and tedious without fast benefit. Until then, he would stagnate and this was not something he wished for. In the other hand, good news were potions, and rituals. With those, he could enchant his reading and learning speed. The only downsides were the ingredients and preparations. He could bypass the potion problem with his money from the bank, but this solution was a temporary one.
The youth would buy first an 'Antidote to Common Poisons', not much but his fear of meal poisoning was great. He would feel safer with an antidote at hand. Later, he wouldn't rely on it since a ritual existed with the same effect but everlasting. Another potion Mikhael wanted to obtain first was 'Magi-Me-More'. Magical pills called potion which allowed the consumer to regain power and concentration. A way to replenish his magical reserve was always welcome since meditation and sleeping weren't fast. He could abuse it. Mastering spell would become a joke with an hypothetical unlimited mana pool. Moreover, it could become a second wind in combat.
In order to optimize his studying session, the 'Invigoration Draught', would give him an energy boost. With the addition of the 'Girding Potion', that gave extra endurance, Mikhael could potentially skip nights studying without sequel. Moreover, they were also useful for his physical training. Being full of energy was the first part to master efficient studying sessions. The second part was having a clear mind with potion like 'The Calming Draught'.
A lot of other potions existed, some with better effects but the cost was too high for his bank account. He could afford the potions for some time but he needed to find a way to make money regularly. He couldn't rely on his thievery here with all the wizards. The consequences would be a lot harsher if he was caught than the muggle policeman.
Mikhael went to the Owlery, a room on the top of Hogwarts Castle's West Tower, where he found one gray school owl. The bird flew int the night, transporting his a letter about Mikhael worries and asking for help on how to increase his vault money to his account manager. He also wrote to different potion shops and apothecary to get their prices. He would then command from the best deals.
Before the end of the day, the orphan kept his promise to the Black Lake's squid, giving him the bread from his pocket. He spent more time than expected in the library. He would have to either train less and dinner in time or train the usual amount of time and dinner later, missing chance to meet Hermione and Neville. Watching the squid fooling around, he recalled his day. Those two Griffindores didn't try to find him the whole time in the library, nor they try to engage him in whatever conversation in class.
They were not worth it.
Mikhael trained his magic range, increasing his fire sphere control from ten meters around him, to ten meters and a foot. Sweat pearled on his forehead. Maintaining his concentration on his range limit, earth pieces detached from the ground and started floating. He pushed those further his range control with his telekinesis which made them fall. Teeth clenched, his magic covered the whole ten meters domain. His magic pulse through the earth and air alike.
The orphan remembered the fire theory he read in the library. He wanted to replicate the effect of the strongest known fire spell without the self-awareness. Concentrating on his magic all around him, Mikhael focused on an illusionary world of fire and ashes. Nothing could resist the combustion, everything burned. No magic could withstand the heat. Mikhael opened his eyes.
He was floating a few centimeters above the charcoal ground. Few inches of ground depth had turned to gray ashes. The orphan magical reserve was near empty. The result was far from his expectation. Indeed, his fire covered him as a ten meters tall orb with him at the center without hurting his body, but the strength was too weak. The bigger the surface it covered, the weaker it became. He knew this problem and hoped his experience would turn different.
Mikhael had a lot to improve before making a fire rivaling the FiendFyre curse.
Stretching after exhausting his remnant magic on his other spells, Mikhael relaxed by swimming in the lake, watching the sunset. The cold water didn't bother him with his body temperature. He would enjoy the lake all year along. He promised himself to explore the deepwater later. He would make his fire burning in the water. He had to be prepared for any situation. His stomach growled. He had to go for dinner.
" Hie, what do you think of the transfiguration exercise ? ", the orphan started a conversation with his neighbor, a black kid who ignored him to talk with Greengrass.
" Hey, did you tried any charms with fire ? ", Mikhael was once again disregarded.
" The food is good isn't it ? ", his other table mate moved away.
Even at the Slytherin center table, Mikhael was avoided. Students stayed in groups away from him. Accepting his condition the orphan chose to make a sandwich before exploring the castle. He didn't need them, he could do well without their presence. At the orphanage, he didn't need anyone's help. He only appreciated Ace and Abigael's presence. Abigael was the only friend he needed. He had to grant her wish. To see her again, he missed her.
The school hallways were full of armors, fake doors, doors hiding as wall and portraits. Those paintings weren't all useful, blabbering about their past lives, the student and school. After questioning a lot of portraits, he only got a few practical information. Hogwarts kitchens were concealed behind a portrait of a "gigantic silver fruit bowl". To open it up, one must tickle the pear in the portrait, and it would turn into a large green door handle.
There, he was assaulted by big eyes who wanted to serve him. Those little creatures were between two to three feet tall with spindly arms and legs and over-sized heads and eyes. They had pointed, bat-like ears and high, squeaky voices demanding to please him. They called themselves house-elves, wearing discarded items like pillowcases and tea-towel as clothes.
The elves were delighted to answer any of his questions. They had a different system for magic, a lot similar to his wandless and chantless magic. Mikhael was delighted by their devotion, almost willing to do anything for their master. He would come back and learn all he needed from them. They were perfect target practice for his mind art Legilimency as they agreed to help him with it. Unlike his normal self, Mikhael gave a hug to each elf. They might be a different specie, but they did their work with fanaticism and they showed him a lot of attention. They did more to him than most people he met in his short life. For an hour or more, Hogwarts elves made a line to get the wizard hug. They were crying. Someone saw them for their equal and showed kindness for their work.
A kitchen elf named Barpy promised Mikhael to notified him as soon as a free elf come and needed a new master. The orphan thanks them one more time before going to the come and go room, the room they used to store lost things. As it was abandoned goods, he would just have to repair and sell them to make a profit. His money would grow even at school. He didn't need to implement a potion trading system. He could use all the future potion he would craft instead of selling some to other students to buy the ingredients.
The stairs were randomly moving. Why does this castle have this feature. It was useless for the student. They would get lost, like him now. They would then lose house point for tardiness and miss part of the class lesson. The stair refused to move again and he was blocked at the third floor. Walking down to the hallway, Mikhael thought he would find an alternative path to the room Barpy told him. It was located on the seventh floor in the left corridor and had a hidden entrance opposite the tapestry depicting the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach trolls ballet. The way to open the room was to walk past it three times thinking about the room that held the lost things, and the door would appear.
One door on the third-floor corridor was locked. Maybe it was the door to another stair. Mikhael unlocked it with a first-year spell, Alohomora. The student didn't put a foot in the door entrance when he froze. A huge three heads dog was standing on the opposite side. Mikhael panicked, his magic core reserve was low after his end of day training. He wasn't at his prime to confront the threat in front of him.
As fast as possible he summoned a dozen of fire spheres. Eyeball's size red rays punctured the animal fur. He couldn't summon more with his low magic reserve. Instead, he would have set the whole room in fire if he could. The three head dog couldn't evade in his room. It trashed with all its strength but the room dimension was at its disadvantage. It couldn't catch the student either because of the door size.
Mikhael stopped his assault. At his position he was safe. Was it that, the threat, the headmaster told them at the welcoming ceremony. Hurt was the beast but not dead. If Mikahel continued his assault, the animal wouldn't survive. Killing it now would be a waste. The animal's organs wouldn't be fresh for ritual or potion. Rituals that required animals with strong vitality and strength could use any other creatures of the same caliber. He wasn't worried for now, he had a live sample sitting on the third floor.
He stopped his fire. He might come back when he would be better at rituals. The burnt scent wasn't pleasant but he had no wish to remove it. The smell would make the beast remember him. The first year approached the door. There was a trapdoor under the Cerberus. One the head jerked up trying to bite him. The dog, didn't learn his lesson.
Mikhael concentrated again on his magic but this time he used the modified Incendio to craft his fire whip. Still not recognizing who was in charge, Mikhael slashed the animal, making it screamed. His intent struck the animal with a clear command, ' OBEY '. He was careful to not overdo. Thanks to his fire, blood loss wasn't the problem. He repeated his order, ' OBEY ', the beast struggled to get up. ' OBEY ', the dog growled back. ' OBEY ', the fire licked the animal full body. The Cerberus yielded. It cowered in fear and didn't dare moving when Mikhael removed his fire. Its fur was no more.
Feeling great for his feat, the orphan gave the beast the remnant of his dinner. The hard stick was done. Maybe the animal could be more useful than just a ritual ingredient. He could mount it in the forbidden forest while searching other beasts and magical offerings for his future ritual. A dog was known for its loyalty, Mikhael thought. Watching the animal eating the dinner.
Anyway, Mikhael didn't want the person who put the animal here to find about him. Magic thread flew in the animal, repairing the damage it had endured. He couldn't heal all the damage. He focused on the external appearance and the gravest burnt. If the orphan didn't enlarge his magical reserve with his daily training, he wouldn't be able to heal such a big specimen after torturing it. He felt grateful to Abigael dedication to his growth. That was right, he didn't train because he felt alone, he refused to believe it.
Mikhael appreciated the gratitude and submissive look the Cerberus gave him. Asserting his will on others was great but it didn't overcome the feeling of surpassing one self-limit. This magical prowess told him he was definitely walking at the right pace. The stairs were again moving at random. It was going to be a pain to find the come and go room.
Professor Flitwick was very short, standing on a bunch of books. He tried to appease class when he fell at the school celebrity name. It worked as many laughed.
" One of a wizard's most rudimentary skills is levitation the ability to make objects fly. Uh, do you all have your feathers ? Good. Now, uh, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing, hmm? The swish and flick. Everyone. The swish and flick. Good. And enunciate. Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go then. ", the half-human explained, repeating the move and levitating the feather.
Mikhael could do it effortlessly with his own magic and with no surprise it gave him ten points when he showed it with his wand, whispering the chant. This wasn't the case for others, like Ron who whacked with wand numerous times. Mikhael wondered, if he increased the speed of his fire orb to an extreme, could it pierce metal and how many layers. Which quantity of magic he needed to summon all his controllable fire orbs at the same time. What speed rate could he achieved to summon a single giant fire orb. What was his true limit.
" Stop, stop, stop. You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrongs. It's Leviosa, not Leviosar. ", Hermione tone didn't change from her bossy attitude. She frowned at her redhead partner who wasn't able to do it. Every duo stopped to look at the spectacle.
" You do it then if you're so clever. Go on, go on. ", Ron rose his hand in the air, exasperated. Hermione straightened up and swished her wand. She spelled Wingardium Leviosa with accentuating on the part she told him. The feather glowed and lifted up. Ron puts his head on his books dejectedly.
" Oh, well done ! See here, everyone ! Ms. Granger's done it ! Oh, splendid ! ", the teacher noticed and had to stop when a Griffindor Seamus' feather explodes. Flitwick gasped. Mikhael noted the explosion power, not really strong, limited by the wand magic and incantation.
At the lesson end, Mikhael saw Hermione bustled past, sniffling. The Griffindor looked embarrassed.
It was Halloween. Everyone was eating candy, and Jack O'Lanterns were keeping the Great Hall lit. Mikhael preferred enjoying the elves companies. He was like a ghost student. Spending time training between class or repairing stuff from the come and go room. He would then sell the repaired objects to the goblin and some Knockturn Alley shop he had contacted before. Keeping a balance between the potions he bought and the money he made was a constraint he couldn't overcome for now. He didn't have inheritance nor other income.
Mikhael restrained his abilities in class and topped in the five firsts students. It didn't matter, his practical and theoretical knowledges were above the first year. Thanks to potions, learning was a lot faster even if the effect lasted for hours only.
The orphan was even more overjoyed when he found a ritual which made his magic more potent. He had drawn a circle with his blood, imbued runes of offering, sacrifice, purification and rebirth at the cardinal direction at night, in place with moonlight. Then he would offer a litter of his own blood, all his magic and wait in pain for an hour full. He had to be naked for avoiding any interference. He was exhausted and couldn't perform magic for one more hour but then his magic was strengthened.
This ritual wasn't common because it relied on the will of sacrificing his own magic to make it stronger. It would leave any wizard powerless, and the whole hour suffering was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. Not many had the will and mentality to go through it. The use of magic potion or other method were left obsolete because the body was purified to accommodate the ritual and the foreign substance were flushed out.
When Mikhael underwent the ritual the first time, he focused on his hatred, hearing Abigael's voice telling him to kill the death eater, to strangle his brother, to destroy the orphanage, to burn the world. He knew it wasn't real but it helped him to stay awake. He did it at night in the come and go room since only the elves seemed to use it.
If his body could, Mikhael would have undergone the ritual every night but he knew he shouldn't. The ritual was brutal to the body and he needed time to be back in full health. His magic potency was stronger each time, it became harder to counter and last longer. Training helped him to grow his reserve and control but not the potency which made him incredibly happy. Against someone with the same amount of control and quantity of magic, he would have an important edge.
The house-elves felt his grow but they promised him to keep quiet about all his progression and involvement. He visited them almost daily and never forget to thanks them for the meal. It was late now, he had to go back in the dungeon. He wandered a bit hesitating to visit Ace 2, the three heads dog. He could levitate the animal with his telekinesis thanks to his progress.
His thoughts were stopped when he smelt a foul odor. Torch on the wall corridor cast the shadow of a huge danger. Mikhael recognized the creature. Generally reaching a height of about twelve feet and weigh up to a tonne, the troll feet had two toes, both with giant toenails. The stupid face wasn't reassuring. Mikhael smiled. He could find other target practice in the forbidden forest. His next potion and ritual ingredient were freshly standing in front of him.
Not willing to damage the good, Mikhael concentrated on his anger and hatred. The green flash came as he summoned it. He knew it was an unforgivable, but he found it wasn't punished to use it on non-human. Moreover, it was the best way to kill without damaging. It was, for him a clement death. He wouldn't use it on his family murderer. No, he would burn him, slowly. The death light hit the troll bull's eyes. The floor trembled with its weight.
Dumbledore stared at his professors. " Professor Quirrell, please could you explain to us. How a wild troll was found in Hogwarts castle with its chest wide open, missing a heart ? I fear that something dangerous roamed this castle corridor. And, I, by my long experience have never witnessed such a curse. ", the headmaster looked grave at his teachers' meeting.