Chapter 90

Chapter 90

Snape acted quickly. At dinner, Suer saw that Slytherin’s hourglass had lost a considerable number of points.

About fifty, by the look of it. The word Mudblood had plainly enraged Snape.

As Suer passed the Slytherin table, Malfoy gave him a murderous look and drew one finger across his throat.

After dinner, a Hufflepuff first-year delivered a note to Suer’s dormitory.

“Face me in a fair duel, Suer Bones. If you have the courage, I will be waiting in the second-floor Charms classroom at midnight. –Draco Malfoy.”

Suer snorted.

“A pathetic attempt to provoke me.”

He crumpled the note, threw it into the fire, and settled onto a sofa with the library book.

The night passed peacefully.

The weather over the Scottish Highlands changed in an instant. When they left the castle that morning the sun was shining; an hour later the sky was buried under dark clouds.

Cedric sighed regretfully, lowered his wand, and finally released the unfortunate frogs from their ordeal.

“Come on, Suer. Breakfast should be ready.”

Suer put his wand away as well.

They talked cheerfully on the way to the castle. Cedric was an excellent older student and had generously shared the results of his private lesson the previous day.

“Where did all Slytherin’s points go?” Cedric asked in surprise as they entered the Great Hall.

“Who knows?” Suer shrugged innocently.

He was privately astonished. So Malfoy really had waited for him.

Served him right.

Suer greeted several diligent Gryffindors who were already awake and took an empty seat at their table.

Rain soon hammered down, plainly visible through the enchanted ceiling. Harry entered carrying his broom, soaked and exhausted.

“Scourgify.” Suer drew his wand and gave it a flick.

“Thanks, Suer.” Harry spoke without energy. Dark circles ringed his eyes.

“Didn’t you sleep?” Hermione asked as she arrived a step behind Suer.

“No.” Harry drained a large cup of hot pumpkin juice. “Nightmares all night.”

That afternoon, Hermione supervised her two friends as they completed their assignments. Suer, meanwhile, took his question to Professor McGonagall’s office.

He and Cedric had discussed how a single-target spell might be cast on a group, but Cedric had no useful insight.

“Mr Bones?” Professor McGonagall was reading when he entered. “What is it?”

“I have a question, Professor.”

She closed her book and studied his obedient expression. “Go on.”

“Can a spell designed for one target be divided and applied precisely to several?”

One eyebrow rose. The question from a second-year had clearly surprised her.

“During Transfiguration, I noticed that you cast a cleaning charm upon the entire class, though I understood the charm to affect only one target.”

Suer looked embarrassed.

“I tried it myself, but I could never make the charm act upon more than one person.”

Professor McGonagall’s surprise became genuine. She had not expected a second-year to notice such a casual piece of spellwork.

“Mr Bones, that is an advanced magical technique. Ordinary spellcasting is sufficient for most purposes, and very few witches or wizards explore beyond it.”

“It is far beyond second-year material. Your body and your magical reserves are not yet suited to such work.”

“I strongly advise against practising it without a teacher. Magic is profound and dangerous. Many witches and wizards have lost their lives researching it.”

“I understand, Professor.” Suer lowered his head, disappointed. He had asked one question and received a lecture.

It seemed she would not teach him.

“However…” A trace of amusement appeared around Professor McGonagall’s eyes as she saw his undisguised disappointment. “I do not object to a student learning some of the theory in advance.”

One taught with complete seriousness and the other studied just as earnestly. Even though Professor McGonagall simplified her explanation, some of it remained beyond Suer. He was only a second-year and lacked much of the necessary magical theory.

What he could not understand, he wrote down for later.

Suer left her office beaming, carrying a sheet of papyrus covered in notes and a reading list. Professor McGonagall had recommended several introductory books and told him to return after he had read them.

To Suer’s amazement, his guess had been correct. In theory, the technique could be applied to every spell. Every single one.

Professor McGonagall had demonstrated how to divide a spell while directing each part precisely to its target.

There were limitations. The more targets a spell affected, the weaker each effect became. Maintaining normal strength therefore required more magical power, as well as focused, stable control.

The technique might appear useless, but many spells could kill outright–the Killing Curse, for example–and many others imposed crippling effects.

Hogwarts would not remain peaceful in the years ahead. Terrorists and their criminal followers would eventually attack the castle. Any additional means of defending himself was worth learning.

Suer naturally did not dare raise questions about Dark magic in front of the stern tabby.

He would have liked to meet the friend from whom Professor McGonagall had learnt the technique. Judging by her sadness when she mentioned that person, however, they might already be dead.

Full of new knowledge, Suer headed happily towards the library. Around a corner, he met a Gryffindor from his own year who had apparently been struck by a jinx and was hopping tearfully towards his common room.

As a helpful Hufflepuff, Suer naturally drew his wand and freed him.

After thanking him, the boy identified his attackers: Draco Malfoy and his two cronies.