Chapter 45: The Fiendfyre Spell!

Time slipped by in silence, like grains of sand trickling through one's fingers. Before Ian knew it, the day before the new school term had arrived—and, over that interim, he had made considerable progress.

Most of his efforts centered on Secrets of Advanced Dark Magic, which, apart from the section on Horcruxes, wasn't particularly difficult to learn. Under its guidance, he had already acquired what might be called the "standard trio" of Unforgivable Curses:

[Avada Kedavra (Level 1, 11/100)]

[Imperius Curse (Level 1, 1/100)]

[Cruciatus Curse (Level 1, 3/100)]

Because he currently lived outside the protective world of Hogwarts, Ian certainly didn't dare use his own wand to practice such gravely illegal magic. Instead, he relied on theoretical understanding, aided by his powerful Dark Magic talent and Gellert Grindelwald's annotations in Secrets of Advanced Dark Magic.

Naturally, beyond these three Unforgivable Curses, the book offered a wide range of Dark spells, such as the Bone-Shattering Curse or Transform-and-Torture Curse. Ian only dabbled in a couple of them, believing it wiser to focus on mastering fewer spells more thoroughly. Improving a spell's level demanded time and repetition—he considered it enough to hold Dark Magic that could meet most challenges.

"No need to rush. In time, I'll learn everything."

For balance, Ian also read from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. These were the ordinary spells expected of first-year Hogwarts students, which did require a bit more hands-on practice. At least his magic level was no longer the feeble thing it had once been. Over a few days, he made respectable progress on much of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, achieving enough proficiency to cast many of them reliably at Level 1.

The one exception was Transfiguration, which confounded him. Even the simple act of turning an object into a needle proved so difficult that he gained only a little ground on his skill:

[Transfiguration (Level 0, 17/50)]

This slow pace puzzled him. He suspected that Dumbledore's hint might be relevant—perhaps he focused too heavily on underlying principles and logic when forming spells. His [Gift of Wisdom] only amplified his tendency to analyze every step. Yet this wizarding realm also ran on imagination and belief—Professor Mara from the limbo had once made an almost identical observation. After all, she had devoted her life to scholarship, yet even she could not surpass Pandro's "I believe I can, so I will" approach.

Comparing himself to wizards whose minds overflowed with creativity and awe, Ian realized his methodical, analytical mindset was limiting him. Understanding the problem did not immediately solve it, though.

"Rowena Ravenclaw was also known for her intellect, and her Transfiguration skills were legendary. There must be a balance between rational thinking and imaginative freedom."

"I took a few art classes in my old life—even if the instructor said I had no talent, I must have a bit of creativity somewhere."

He refused to believe he'd remain stuck forever, but he couldn't guess how long it would take to strike that perfect equilibrium. For now, whenever Transfiguration sapped his confidence, he found comfort in rereading Secrets of Advanced Dark Magic. The text grouped its spells into malevolent curses, venomous curses, and killing curses, each classification more dangerous than the last. On top of those, it offered a separate category of Curses—sly, insidious magic.

"So that's how Noseless Voldemort managed to curse the Defense Against the Dark Arts post…"

Ian felt no urge to investigate that angle. He prided himself on getting along with others, so there was nobody he wished to curse. If trouble arose, it seemed simpler to use [Avada Kedavra] or, better yet, [Fiendfyre]—the infamous Dark spell he had also begun studying in earnest since his visit to that secretive bookshop.

This [Fiendfyre Spell] soon became the branch of Dark Magic he was most comfortable with:

[Fiendfyre (Level 1, 76/100)]

For fear of attracting attention, Ian avoided using his own wand for practice, and he mulled over getting a second wand from somewhere like Knockturn Alley. Without regular, hands-on application, raising Fiendfyre's level was tricky. Yet purely through the detailed instructions and notes in Secrets of Advanced Dark Magic, he still managed to push his proficiency higher than with any other Dark spell.

Miss Grindelwald's words proved apt—through the commentary on [Fiendfyre], Ian almost felt Gellert Grindelwald's towering genius radiating from the pages. Astoundingly, he hadn't even finished reading all of the master's observations; there was more to explore.

"Tomorrow, I'll be off to Hogwarts, so I won't be able to study this book as freely anymore," he thought. The looming loss of freedom to delve into forbidden magic whenever he pleased disappointed him. On the other hand, he looked forward to learning new spells, including Alchemy under Professor Mara's guidance. He also hoped that Professor McGonagall's teaching would help him reconcile his logic-driven approach with the imaginative side of magic.

"It'll be a busy and fulfilling life!"

With these thoughts, Ian settled down for his usual nightly reading. In this final evening before school began, he wanted to finish the last notes on [Fiendfyre].

"So Grindelwald figured out not only how to keep Fiendfyre from harming the caster but also how to imbue it with his own will… How brilliant can one wizard be?"

Lighting his wand to study, Ian decided that once he departed, he would bury Secrets of Advanced Dark Magic beneath the cottage floor, ideally in the filthiest coffin among the remains. He doubted Snape would ever dig through that stuff in his absence.

He read through the final details on [Fiendfyre], noting yet again how vital mental reflection seemed to be. The more advanced a spell—whether Dark or Light—the more it required harmony between the caster's will and the shaping of magic itself.

Outside, the night wind stirred. At last, Ian spotted a brief message at the end of Fiendfyre's notes, a line that made him blink in astonishment:

"May you learn well, my friend."

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