Chapter 18: The Ravenclaw Genius

The Hospital Wing's high ceiling greeted Kael Stormbane for the third consecutive morning. Madam Pomfrey had insisted he remain under observation for at least another day, despite his protests that his magical reserves had replenished sufficiently. The aftermath of the Glacius Cataclysm had taken more out of him than he'd anticipated—a sobering reminder that even a Stormbane had limits.

"Still plotting your escape, Mr. Stormbane?" Madam Pomfrey approached with a steaming goblet. "Your magical core needs rest after that... incident. Whatever spell you cast was far beyond first-year capabilities."

Kael flashed his most charming smile. "I was merely improvising, Madam Pomfrey. The troll presented an unexpected learning opportunity."

"Learning opportunity," she muttered, shaking her head. "Drink this Magical Restorative Potion. Professor Snape brewed it specifically for your condition."

Kael accepted the goblet, noting the subtle aroma of valerian root and powdered moonstone—ingredients typically reserved for advanced healing potions. The fact that Snape had taken personal interest in his recovery spoke volumes.

"Professor Flitwick left these for you," Madam Pomfrey added, placing a stack of books beside his bed. "Though he emphasized you're to rest, not study."

"Of course," Kael replied with an innocent expression that fooled nobody.

Once alone, he immediately reached for the topmost book—Advanced Magical Theory: The Elemental Disciplines. Attached was a note in Flitwick's precise handwriting: "Fascinating display of elemental control, Mr. Stormbane. When you're recovered, I'd be delighted to discuss proper channeling techniques. —Professor F."

Kael smiled. The tiny Charms professor had quickly become his favorite teacher at Hogwarts, recognizing his abilities without the wariness that other faculty members displayed. Unlike Professor McGonagall, who viewed his talents with a mixture of admiration and concern, or Snape, whose respect came begrudgingly wrapped in suspicion, Flitwick approached Kael's gifts with genuine enthusiasm.

A gentle knock interrupted his thoughts. Hermione Granger peered around the doorway, her arms laden with scrolls.

"You're awake!" she exclaimed, hurrying to his bedside. "I've brought your assignments from yesterday and today. Professor Snape was particularly insistent that your 'theatrical display' shouldn't exempt you from homework."

Kael laughed. "That sounds like him. Thank you, Hermione."

She carefully arranged the scrolls on his bedside table, stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking.

"Just ask, Hermione," he said gently. "I can practically hear the questions buzzing in that brilliant mind of yours."

A blush colored her cheeks. "The spell you used on the troll... I've been researching in the library for three days, and I can't find anything remotely similar. It wasn't in Standard Book of Spells or even Advanced Defensive Magic."

"That's because it's not taught at Hogwarts," Kael replied, sitting up straighter. "Glacius Cataclysm is from the Grimoire of Forbidden Storms—an ancient spellbook passed down through my family for generations."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Forbidden Storms? That sounds... dangerous."

"It is. I was only supposed to be studying the theoretical framework, not actually casting it." Kael ran a hand through his dark hair, the faint lightning-shaped birthmark on his forearm momentarily visible. "My father would be furious if he knew I'd attempted it without proper supervision."

"But why risk using such a powerful spell? Harry and Ron had the situation... somewhat under control."

Kael raised an eyebrow. "Did they? That troll was moments away from crushing Harry with its club. I intended to cast Arcane Pulsus—a simple repulsion charm—but in the heat of the moment..." He shrugged. "My magic responded to my emotions rather than my intent."

Hermione sat on the edge of his bed, her expression serious. "Professor McGonagall mentioned your family has unusual magical affinities. Is that why the spell was so... spectacular?"

Kael considered how much to reveal. The Stormbane legacy wasn't a secret, precisely, but few understood its full implications.

"The Stormbanes have always had a unique connection to elemental magic," he explained. "Weather magic, in particular, responds to us in ways it doesn't to other wizards. My great-grandfather once summoned a tempest that drove back an entire contingent of dark wizards. My father can call lightning with a whisper."

"And you froze a mountain troll solid," Hermione finished, awe evident in her voice.

"Accidentally," Kael emphasized. "I haven't fully mastered my family's abilities yet. That's partly why I'm here at Hogwarts—to build a proper magical foundation before attempting more advanced Stormbane techniques."

Hermione's curiosity was clearly piqued. "Is that why you wrote your grimoire? To establish fundamentals?"

"Partly," Kael admitted. "The spells in my published grimoire are accessible to any wizard with sufficient practice. They're innovations built on standard magical principles, not inherently tied to my bloodline."

"I've been studying your Ventus Sagitta," Hermione confessed. "I can produce the arrow-shaped wind current, but it doesn't maintain cohesion beyond fifteen feet."

Kael's eyes lit up. "You're actually practicing my spells? That's impressive, Hermione. Most adult wizards struggle with the precision required."

"Well, your notes were very thorough," she said, pleased by his praise. "Though I still don't understand how you conceptualized a directionally stable air current at age nine."

"I'd be happy to show you the original diagrams sometime," Kael offered. "My approach to spellcrafting is rather visual. I see the magical flows before I articulate the incantations."

Their conversation was interrupted by the exuberant arrival of Fred and George Weasley, who burst through the hospital wing doors with theatrical flourishes.

"The Frozen Hero awakens!" announced Fred, dropping into an exaggerated bow.

"Savior of damsels and freezer of trolls!" added George with equal dramatic flair.

"Silencer of bathrooms!" continued Fred.

"Bringer of winter!"

"Creator of—"

"Gentlemen," Madam Pomfrey's stern voice cut through their performance. "This is a hospital wing, not a theater. Keep your voices down or leave."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," they responded in perfect unison, their expressions instantly contrite—though Kael noted the mischievous gleam remained in their eyes.

As soon as she retreated to her office, the twins pulled chairs to Kael's bedside.

"Seriously though," Fred said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "that was the most brilliant bit of magic we've ever seen."

"Totally wicked," agreed George. "McGonagall spent three hours trying to thaw the bathroom. Filch is still complaining about the water damage."

"The whole school's talking about nothing else," Fred added. "The Slytherins are saying you're the next coming of Merlin."

"While the Hufflepuffs are convinced you're secretly a hundred-year-old wizard disguised as a student," finished George.

Kael groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Wonderful. Just the kind of attention I was hoping to avoid."

"Too late for that, mate," said Fred cheerfully. "You've achieved legendary status. 'The Great Freeze' they're calling it."

"Though we're partial to 'The Troll Popsicle Incident' ourselves," added George.

Despite himself, Kael laughed. The twins' irrepressible humor was exactly what he needed. Unlike most students who approached him with awe or trepidation, Fred and George treated him as they would any friend—albeit one with extraordinary magical abilities they were eager to exploit for pranking purposes.

"So," Fred said, glancing around to ensure Madam Pomfrey wasn't within earshot, "about that freezing spell..."

"Not a chance," Kael replied immediately. "That spell is far too dangerous for pranks. It could have killed someone if I hadn't managed to contain it."

"Fair enough," George conceded. "But surely you have something less... potentially fatal in your magical repertoire?"

Kael considered for a moment. "I might have a few ideas more suitable for creative mischief. Once I'm out of here, we could discuss some possibilities."

The twins exchanged gleeful looks.

"Knew we could count on you," said Fred.

"A true innovator," added George.

"Speaking of which," Fred continued, "we've been experimenting with those color-changing candies you suggested."

"Currently, they turn the eater's hair bright purple," said George.

"But only for about thirty seconds," Fred finished with disappointment.

"You need to stabilize the transformation element," Kael explained. "Try adding powdered bicorn horn—just a pinch—to extend the duration."

The twins stared at him in admiration.

"Brilliant," breathed Fred.

"And where exactly would two innocent first-years acquire bicorn horn?" asked Hermione, who had been quietly observing their exchange with growing disapproval.

"Why, from the student potion supplies, of course," George replied, the picture of innocence.

"Strictly educational purposes," added Fred solemnly.

Kael caught Hermione's eye and winked, causing her exasperation to soften slightly.

"Oh, before I forget," George said, rummaging in his pocket. "Draco Malfoy asked us to give you this." He handed over a small, sealed parchment.

Kael raised an eyebrow in surprise as he accepted the note. His interactions with the Malfoy heir had been limited thus far—primarily brief acknowledgments in the corridors or during shared classes.

Breaking the seal, he read the elegant script:

Stormbane,

Your display of magical prowess was impressive, if somewhat reckless. When you're released from the Hospital Wing, I'd appreciate a moment of your time to discuss a matter of mutual interest.

—D.M.

"What does the little snake want?" asked Fred, not bothering to hide his disdain.

"Just a conversation," Kael replied neutrally, tucking the note away. The twins' antipathy toward Slytherins in general and the Malfoys in particular was well-known, but Kael preferred to form his own judgments. His family had taught him to evaluate people by their actions and choices, not their houses or surnames.

"Well, best be careful around that one," warned George. "Malfoys are known for their... selective loyalties."

"I appreciate the concern," Kael said with a smile. "But I find most people reveal their true nature if given the right opportunities."

Madam Pomfrey returned then, shooing the visitors away despite their protests. "Mr. Stormbane needs rest if he's to return to classes tomorrow. You can continue your social calls then."

After extracting promises to meet in the library the following day, Hermione departed with an armful of books. The twins followed with dramatic salutes and whispered assurances of "epic plans to discuss."

Left alone, Kael turned his attention to the advanced magical theory texts Flitwick had provided. His accidental casting of Glacius Cataclysm had been alarming—not just because of its power, but because of how naturally it had flowed through him. He needed to understand the underlying principles better if he hoped to maintain control over his growing abilities.

The following evening found Kael settled in a comfortable window alcove in Ravenclaw Tower, watching rain streak the ancient glass as he absently manipulated tiny lightning patterns between his fingertips. His return to classes that morning had been met with a mixture of fascination and wariness from his fellow students. Even his Ravenclaw housemates, who had grown somewhat accustomed to his academic brilliance, now regarded him with renewed interest.

"That looks fascinating," came a soft voice.

Kael turned to find Penelope Clearwater, a fifth-year prefect, watching the dancing electrical currents with scholarly interest. Known for her intelligence even among Ravenclaws, Penelope had occasionally helped first-years with particularly challenging assignments.

"Just a simple control exercise," Kael replied, allowing the miniature lightning to dissipate. "Helps me focus."

"Not exactly what most first-years would consider 'simple,'" Penelope observed, settling onto the window seat across from him. "The troll incident has everyone talking, you know. Professor Flitwick was absolutely beside himself with excitement in the staff room—I overheard him telling Professor Vector that you're the most naturally gifted student he's encountered in decades."

Kael smiled slightly. "Professor Flitwick is very kind."

"He's also rarely wrong about magical talent," she countered. "Many of us have noticed how you help the younger students with their work."

"They're my yearmates, not younger students," Kael pointed out with a laugh.

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. "You know what I mean. You're operating at a different level. Teaching comes naturally to you."

Kael considered this. He had indeed found himself helping several housemates with their assignments, particularly in Charms and Transfiguration. What had begun as occasional assistance had evolved into informal study sessions in the Ravenclaw common room three evenings a week.