Chapter 18

A week later, Sirius fell onto a couch, exhausted by yet another training session. He had upped the intensity of his casting sessions, which was probably unnecessary, but he was frustrated by his lack of progress with the aura manifestation. He still felt exhausted after just a few seconds of its usage, and overcompensated, taking out his frustration with other training.

Despite his own resolution to focus on his magical skills, putting this new, exciting skill out of his mind was not such a simple matter for him. Being impeded by his magical power made him want to expedite his schedule and undergo the next ritual sooner, but rationally he knew it was a bad idea. It had the potential to derail the otherwise solid ritual plan, as it increased the level of risk exponentially. Nonetheless, despite coming to the same conclusion every time he still internally debated it, his mind was occupied with the issue almost daily.

Apart from his frustration with this particular matter, he felt quite confident he improved by a significant margin. While he usually tried to limit time spent on training the basics, as the repetition did not particularly appeal to him, he felt it was necessary right now.

Sirius enjoyed learning new and complex magics, feeling accomplished after having managed to perform a spell that previously escaped him or deepen his understanding of some of the more esoteric branches of magic he delved into. The same could not always be said about his casting training, however. He enjoyed the physical exercise and at first, the prospect of regaining his magical prowess was appealing enough for him to overlook its more tedious aspects.

But now that he had reached and far surpassed his pre-Azkaban capabilities, the lack of any tangible progress began to grate on his nerves more and more. It made the effort feel like a waste of time and now it was more precious than ever, with Sirius having many other matters to occupy him. Sirius felt like there were better things to do.

At this point any improvements he managed to make felt minuscule and even though he powered through it, continuing with his daily sessions, he no longer had the same drive as he used to. He found himself starting them late and finishing early, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He subconsciously began to see it as a chore more than anything.

Going through hours of this kind of practice every day for weeks would normally have been a tedium at best for Sirius, but that was not the case. Testing his new capabilities and determining the ritual's exact effects made the task interesting enough at first and later on.

As the ritual affected his magic the testing was not as straightforward as it would have been if it came to his physical traits. They were no known methods to quantify the exact parameters of one's magic with any reasonable precision, at least not to Sirius. So all that was left to him was his own perception along with some trial and error.

Even after accounting for how skewed human perception could be, based on their preconceived notions and biases, there was no denying that there were areas he improved at tremendously. When it came to curses, charms and other magics that happened practically instantly there predictably wasn't any visible difference. Those already took him but an instant to cast. But when it came to spells that required continuous casting and a significant amount of time to take effect, it was another matter entirely.

The time it took him to perform transfigurations, set up wards, or produce elemental spells shot down substantially. Those were among the pieces of magic that required one to hold an intent and then wait for the process to finish or to fold one's magic in a complicated manner. Sirius was astonished at how much easier and quicker everything felt, and it showed in the time it took him to cast them.

For example, conjuring an animated creature from thin air - a magically taxing feat that most adult wizards could not perform at all and one which previously took him a solid two or three seconds of singular concentration - was now cast almost two times quicker than before the ritual. His skills at transfiguring large areas or objects and elemental conjuration were similarly affected, making them much more relevant in a duel.

Previously, curses and charms were his go-to in a fight - with his extensive repertoire and them being much quicker to execute - it was rarely an optimal choice to rely on something else. Trying to implement other, more taxing, and slower branches into his style was a chore and something he only did sparingly. This development was exactly what he needed to incentivize him into revolutionizing and diversifying his dueling style.

And so he threw himself into training, dedicating all the time he could spare to practicing, only stopping to make adjustments to some pertinent enchantments. He was making changes to the training dummies constantly, trying to introduce as much variety to his regimen as possible to make it that much more challenging.

Time flew and the start of the tournament was quickly approaching. There was one more thing he wanted to try before he left for France next week. It was late afternoon, a perfect time for what he had in mind.

He got dressed in a muggle suit tailored for him, made from a mix of fine silks. With black slacks, a form-fitting white shirt, and a simple, but elegant, jacket on top he looked at himself in the mirror.

Sirius might have been a bit biased, but he felt he looked pretty damn good. The ensemble hugged his frame perfectly and his face was handsome, if somewhat intimidating. All Black males had angular, sculpted faces and he was no exception, especially now that he lost the last vestiges of baby fat from his youth. That made them somewhat intimidating, any serious or neutral expression seeming much more severe. He definitely looked quite intense and, particularly dressed as he was, gave of an air of importance.

Apparating to a secluded spot on the university grounds, he made his way past groups of students. Smiling at a couple of girls that seemed to take a special interest in him, he maintained the eye contact long enough to scour the locations of lecture halls from their minds.

He sat in on a couple of lectures for a few minutes, ignoring the curious looks sent to him. Those were open to anyone, you could just come in and listen to the lecturer, regardless of your status as a student or not. With how many looks he received he doubted this right was often exercised, however.

At the end of the day, he got what he wanted, noting a couple of individuals that caught his eye. A professor that specialized in psychology and human behavior, a leading expert in the field of material science and a seasoned chemist among others.

After leaving the university, Sirius made his way towards the magical part of the city. Like Britain, the French had a hidden shopping district in the capital. He ate a full meal and had a drink, before browsing the wares offered in various shops. He then took a stroll along the Seine river, finally settling down on a bench and flipping through one of the books he purchased.

An hour or two later he took a look at his pocket watch and saw it was nearing 2 p.m. He judged it late enough to proceed with his objective and apparated directly to the house of his previously scouted target. He made his way upstairs, to where he knew the man in question would be sleeping.

Entering the bedroom he looked down at the man and his sleeping wife. Casting a strong sleeping charm on the pair to be safe, it was time to begin. Sirius had never done anything close to as complicated throughout his experience with mind arts as what he was going to attempt now.

The most basic use of legilimency was simply reading the target's current thoughts and feelings. Accessing their recent memories was slightly more complicated. Then there was the ability to extract information that was either at the forefront of the individual's mind at the moment or held a high degree of importance in their mind. People capable of that were already considered quite adept at the art.

A more advanced user would learn how to manipulate the subconscious mind and, with varying degrees of difficulty, should be able to find the particular information they sought. Beyond that level, you should have a good enough understanding to begin actively manipulating the mind. Twisting thoughts, permanently obscuring memories, intensifying or dulling emotions, skewing perceptions and opinions, messing with senses, and much more.

At that point, you could truly be considered a master legilimens. Sirius doubted there were more than a few people every century who truly reached the level of proficiency to comfortably perform feats like these, it was hard to be sure as none were forthcoming about practicing the art. It was highly illegal in most countries to perform any mind magics on a human being. Regardless of that, flaunting your capabilities would only mean risking ostracization or death, as feared as they were.

One notable exception were certified healers, though their use of mind arts was limited. People with trauma or mental illness often employed the help of a mind-healer in hopes of recovery. The process usually came down to talking to a patient, trying to keep their mind on an issue, while utilizing minor compulsions, potions, and selective obliviations to lessen the emotional connection the individual had with the events in question. Very rarely was legilimency utilized to any significant degree, beyond monitoring the subject's mind while the actual changes were made by external means, only emulating what proper legilimens could achieve. As such their actual knowledge of mind arts themselves was usually limited.

With no popular use for them and a ridiculously high level of dedication and effort required to succeed made legilimency fade into obscurity. Despite that quite a few people who still learned basic occlumency. Some for the added benefits it had for ones learning speed or memory retention, but most for the protection it offered. A lot of positions demanded it - aurors, officials, nobles, lawyers, etc. It was very bare-bones and often considered a waste of effort, but it was all but compulsory for it made a world of difference if one had to actually fend off a legilimens attack. Without any training, you could be a victim of a full-on intrusion, with your mind laid bare before the attacker, and be none the wiser, with no other indication than a mild headache afterwards.

He'd spent hundreds, probably thousands of hours seeking refuge in the minds of his fellow inmates and more still in his own. He had the benefit of time and test subjects to slowly hone his skill over the long years of captivity. He had no reservations about testing any and all ideas on other occupants of Azkaban, as he assumed they, unlike himself, were quite deserving of their punishment. Especially since Sirius suspected Dumbledore honed his own skill by practicing on school children.

That decade gave him the confidence to even attempt something with this level of complexity. A much, much more advanced technique, requiring utmost mastery of both occlumency and legilimency, was said to allow one to copy large amounts of information and experiences from the target. By separating all knowledge and understanding pertaining to a subject and absorbing it as your own you could theoretically gain the skill that normally took decades to develop in a couple of hours.

Sirius sank into the mind of his target, taking his time to guide the man's subconscious mind towards the content he wanted. Once he felt like successfully distilled the essence of the man's knowledge, he started to gradually absorb it, settling the huge amounts of information within the pre-prepared space with his mind. He lost track of time, his progress slow and the process exhausting, requiring his full focus at all times. But eventually he was finished, after double checking that everything was in place, he very carefully exited the man's mind.

There was a couple of seconds when he stood stock still, waiting for something to go horribly wrong. After a moment he took a deep breath, finally allowing himself to relax. Sweat was dripping down his face, as much from the stress and hyperactivity as from exhaustion. Sirius couldn't help but laugh from relief and euphoria at his success.

Uncaring of the pair of muggles sleeping barely a few feet away he whipped out his wand and conjured a comfy sofa behind himself, and fell back limply while cleaning himself off with a charm. After catching his breath he decided to check the time.

'Two mother-fucking hours.' Sirius sighed. 'I really should be more careful in the future. It probably wouldn't hurt to actually consider the things I come up with instead of immediately going through with them.' But who was he kidding, he would do the exact same thing when he got the chance. Unless his character would undergo a sudden fundamental transformation he would remain the same adrenaline junkie he had been for as long as he could remember. Taking risks with dangerous magics, and succeeding, was the type of activity that made him feel alive and at this point, it was no exaggeration to say he was addicted to the feeling. After being forced to deny those urges and sit in a house that was a perfect reminder of his traumatic childhood his will to resist them was pretty much exhausted.

Sirius took the time to examine the muggle. Neither the various diagnostic charms nor his meticulous scrutiny of the man's mind yielded any results. It appeared as though there were no unpleasant side effects to his experimental 'procedure'. This was doubly good news for Sirius, as he could not only maintain a clear conscience about what he's done but also feel free to continue this practice with others without worrying about harming them, even though it obviously still required utmost care and precision.

'Hmm, I do believe in reciprocity. The fact that you are none the wiser about what I did and had no say in it does not mean you have to be taken advantage of, my man.' Feeling ecstatic about his success Sirius decided to reward his unsuspecting benefactor. He took the time to alleviate the rheumatic issues he discovered by accident when examining him. These types of afflictions had the propensity to recur, but it should at least give him a few years of reprieve. 'There. That should be good enough to compensate you for your unwitting participation.'

After re-casting the sleeping charm on his unconscious companions, he began to work through his newly acquired knowledge. It would take some time to fully integrate the knowledge, by reallocating it properly within his mind palace but otherwise it was exactly what he wished for. He was now a possessor of the man's lifetime of experience in his chosen field as well as his language proficiency, without being burdened by any personal memories, feelings, or thoughts.

This ability was an untapped goldmine, even though it would be a long while before he felt confident enough to attempt it on a wizard. Hell, he didn't know if it ever would be feasible when it came to skilled or even just competent magic users, which were obviously the ones who held the knowledge he would want to access most. After all, what use was the magical knowledge of a mediocre witch or wizard to him at this point? He was already approaching the level of mastery in all the main branches of magic, so he would only really benefit from the expertise of users of other, more obscure, or specialized fields.

What came to mind though was the possibility of inducing some type of haze or trance in his target so that their mind would be as open to outward influence as any muggle's. The most obvious solution would be some sort of a potion with that effect. But that would have to wait. He doubted he would ever find the patience to experiment with potions long enough to come up with something like that any time soon considering his own dislike of the subject. Just imagining dedicating tens or even hundreds of hours to potion research of all things made him queasy.

Sirius was still convinced Snape's pasty-looking, unhealthy skin and oily hair were somehow a direct result of his fascination with potions - a culmination of years spent bathing in and inhaling potion fumes. Potions were just not meant to be a thing and Snape was just an example of what happens when you go against the natural order.

Leaving those thoughts for later, not wanting to spoil his good mood for no reason thinking about potions and Snape of all things, Sirius saw no further reason to linger.

"Thanks for the help again." He saluted the sleeping couple and apparated out ready to mind-rape some more hapless muggles in his quest for power.

END