Disclaimer ~ Read one of the ones in my earlier chapters if you really feel the dire need to do so.
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Chapter Fifteen
Wandless Magic and Potions Genius?
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"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" yelled Hermione; her hair was coming out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.
"Oh yeah?" Ron yelled back. "What's that?"
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"........
............. Harry didn't say anything. He liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too much to speak his mind right now – but he somehow thought that Hermione had gotten the point much better than Ron had.
~ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
"Hearing voices no one else can
hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."
~ Ron
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Lessons started up again and the teachers seemed to be keeping their students busier than ever. McGonagall was fretting over the class's inability to transfigure other people, a skill she had just recently begun to teach them. N.E.W.T. midterm reports would begin in two weeks. The Transfigurations room bustled with the sounds of busy, frustrated pupils.
"MR LONGBOTTOM! No!" she shrieked as Neville raised his wand over a terrified Dean. Neville looked up with widened eyes as the professor approached, his round face growing apprehensive.
"Wha....what? I thought this is what we were supposed to be doing?" he stuttered, completely flabbergasted.
"No, no, no. You're going about it all wrong," she said and hurried over to him.
The four students in the far, sunlit corner turned back to their work. Ron shook his head. He, Harry, Hermione, and Cesare were practicing among themselves. Well-- practicing wasn't the best way to describe it. Harry was absentmindedly twirling his wand and staring at the swirling dust glittering in the thin rays of sun that streamed through the windows with a faraway look in his eyes. Ron was lounging on top of a heavy desk, taking full advantage of Professor McGonagall's preoccupation with Neville to slack off
"I wouldn't want to be his partner. Imagine if he turned you into half a goat and you couldn't get unstuck?" he whispered, with dramatically raised brows.
"Ron! That's not nice!" Hermione shot back in an angry whisper. She was the only one making a real effort to work on the spell, and she occasionally threw disgusted looks over her shoulder at the other boys. It was clear she did support their slacking-off.
Ron shrugged and looked towards Harry for support, but Harry quickly turned his laugh into a cough. He wasn't about to go upsetting Hermione again so soon after she'd finally begun talking to him. Instead, he stared at the floor as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever laid his eyes upon, ignoring Ron's expectant face.
"Cabrata magime," Cesare incanted easily and with a poof! Ron became a gray mountain goat before he could start arguing with Hermione. Now it was her turn to laugh, as the angry russet-colored goat behhed* in annoyance
"Emigam cabrata," he said with another swish of his wand and Ron became a scowling human again
"Very good, Mr. al-Jalil," McGonagall commented from across the room where she was helping Neville.
Ron shook his head slowly and stared at his hands, which had just been hooves.
"How do you DO that? You're not normal," he said. His annoyance was obvious. While Harry and Hermione had become friends with Cesare, Ron hadn't. He still mistrusted the foreign student and had to struggle to remain polite. Harry couldn't really understand why. But the tension between the two was always present. But while Ron lost his temper with Cesare, Cesare never lost his cool. Harry appreciated this effort to keep a semblance of peace.
Cesare shrugged. "It's not really that hard." He tried to look casual as he slid back into a seat.
But Ron continued to rigorously shake his head. "Wonder girl here," he said motioning to Hermione (who didn't look this least bit insulted when she was called that) with his hand, "Can't even manage more than a pair of fuzzy ears and horns so far. It's just not natural. You hiding some secret powers on us, or something?" he joked, but there was a hard edge to his voice.
Cesare managed a half smile and they went back to practicing. But what Ron had said stuck in his mind. Ever since school had started up again, he'd been finding everything extremely easy. Even Potions, his worst subject! He hadn't studied for a class since break.
McGonagall's strict voice broke through his thoughts.
"Alright, class. I believe we will call it a day. But you MUST practice this! You're very behind!" she demanded shrilly.
"Also, I need to see Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, and Mr. al-Jalil."
All five students quickly exchanged glances and excited smiles, guessing what this was about. The rest of the class filed out of the room. McGonagall waited until they were gone before turning her attention to the students left behind.
"Well, you can probably guess what this is about. Your Animagi classes will be starting next week. We will all meet in this classroom on Tuesdays and Fridays right after dinner. I suggest you be well-rested and relaxed for your first class. You need to be mentally prepared." She bid them good-bye and they left, chattering excitedly.
Neville looked downcast; a sad expression drifted across his face as he walked along the stone corridor.
Hermione glanced at him and then asked. "What's wrong, Neville? Aren't you excited?"
He smiled weakly. "Oh yeah, I bet it would be great to be an Animagi....... you'll have to tell me about it." He added in a bitter undertone.
She immediately stopped and fiercely glared at him. "What are you talking about?"
The other boys had kept walking, not noticing that Hermione and Neville had left their group. Their loud voices echoed off the walls, muting the conversation between Hermione and Neville.
"Nothing," he muttered. "Let's catch up." He hurried towards the others, leaving Hermione no choice but to follow.
Harry and Cesare were complaining loudly about Snape. "Stupid, greasy git next."
"Y'know he only gave me a 3 outta 10 on my last essay? Do you know how long I worked on that! Merda! How I hate that bloody professore!" Cesare had taken to peppering his distinct accent with the bits of English slang he picked up. The result was a slight bizarre, but very unique.
Harry gave him a sympathizing look as they entered the dungeons. They continued to whisper as they got into their seats.
Snape, who had been muttering over a dusty book on his desk, suddenly focused his attention on the three of them. His black brows knit in irritation.
"Silence! Speak again and I will take points from your house."
Harry didn't even bother to acknowledge the group of cackling Slytherins in the next rows over. Although they were being much louder, Snape would never scold them.
"Today we will be starting Bewitching Potions. Who can tell me what they are and what compounds are commonly used to make them?" he asked, knowing full and well that none of the class, save maybe Hermione knew this.
Snape's malicious gaze twitched back and forth between Cesare and Harry, apparently deciding which one of his favorite targets to ridicule today.
"Jalil. Stand up and answer." Snape's hand hovered over his notebook, eagerly waiting to write down a big, fat zero.
Cesare stood up warily, having comprehended little of what Snape asked. Then suddenly his mouth opened and words poured out.
"A bewitching potion. Sometimes considered a dark art, it depends on the degree of bewitchment. It's a common form of magic used to make someone believe in something false. They can be used in many variations from a Love Potion to a Forgetfulness Potion. The most common compounds that are evident in almost all bewitching potions are gonnar scales, newt eyes, mandir roots, powdered gruenskin, and dragon bile. The scales can sometimes be substituted for Mandrake leaves, but it depends on the potion's use." He clapped his hand to his mouth and fell into his seat. What the hell?
Snape along with the rest of the class looked Stunned, and they gaped at the Egyptian. Was this the same student who stammered his way through this class? The only person without a shocked expression was Draco Malfoy. He hadn't even turned to look at Cesare. He was gazing at his desk as if it held the secrets of the universe.
Snape recovered quickly. "Well, well, well," he muttered, reluctantly writing a ten instead of a zero. He swept back up the front of the class and lectured, well..... actually more like yelled, for the rest of the class. Cesare stared determinately ahead, not taking any notes and ignoring the curious looks he was getting from his classmates.
The lesson had almost returned to normal, when a few minutes before the bell, the dungeon doors slammed open with a large boom. For the second time, everyone's head swiveled in the same direction.
Professor Almari stood in the doorway with an amused look on her face. Her jet black hair curled down her back as a curious smirk curled her lips. Snape kept his cool at first, only a look of mild annoyance was visible on his face.
She looked incredibly out of place. Her vibrant, shimmering silk clothes and bright gold jewelry stood out in the dark, dismal dungeon, like a Hagrid would stand out amongst a crowd of house-elves. The jinn looked around. "I thought your class would be out by now," she said with an indifferent shrug. "Never mind me; I'll just take what I need." She sauntered down to the front of the classroom, her sandals clicking on the cold, stone floor. Almari headed towards Snape's private storeroom and threw open the door like she owned it.
All the students flinched in anticipation of Snape's reaction. They all knew from experience how precious his storeroom was to him. Snape's face contorted with rage as he watched another person casually walk into his personal haven. He jumped up from his desk and then actually leaped in front of the entrance to his private stores. In a furious whisper, (that the class could all too audibly hear), he demanded, "What are you doing?!"
"I need some dragon scales for my third-year class," she said calmly. Her cool tone contrasted with the fact that Snape was clearly spitting mad.
At that moment, he appeared to notice that all twenty students were watching the unusual spectacle between their two professors with avid fascination. If there was one thing Snape would not allow, it was being humiliated in front of others, especially his students. The bell signaling the end of class could not come soon enough.
"GET OUT!" he roared at them, completely losing his head.
Twenty people could not have excited a classroom more quickly had their lives been in mortal peril. All except Harry. He dropped his bag near the door and fell to the floor to pick his things up. He was very much interested in the conversation between the two former Death Eaters.
"Mehrunnisa! What are you doing in here?!" Snape demanded again. Harry could only hear their voices behind his back, not see their faces, but he could practically picture Snape's face twisted in anger and Almari's perfectly collected eternal smile.
She spoke like someone would to a small child throwing a tantrum. "I. Need. Some. Dragon.--,"
Snape cut her off. "I KNOW that! But you can't just come barging into my class and go through my personal storage......."
"Oh, come off it, Severus. What could YOU possible have in there that I wouldn't already know about?"
Harry had never heard Snape speak this rudely to another teacher. His voice was full of more emotional rage than he though possible.
"Why do you need MY supplies? Why don't you just go and conjure up whatever you need, jinn!"
At that moment, the furious Potions master spotted Harry, who was kneeling on the floor with his books.
"POTTER! What the hell are you still doing in here! I told you to GET OUT!" Snape began to swoop down on him, his black robes billowing out behind him as he stormed in Harry's direction.
Professor Almari quickly intervened, which Harry would forever be grateful for.
"Harry, what I think Professor Snape would like to say is perhaps you could leave us alone so we could have a private chat. Hopefully, like two adults," she added, with a sweet glance towards Snape, who looked like he wanted to murder someone. Preferably either Almari or Harry.
He jumped to his feet and threw Professor Almari a look of undying gratitude, before quickly exiting the room. As he hurried down the corridor, he was fleetingly concerned for her safety. Snape was ready to kill someone.
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Meanwhile, Cesare had grabbed Hermione's arm and gently pulled her outside of the classroom after Snape ordered them to leave. "Let's get outta here," he muttered under his breath.
Hermione glanced back briefly at Harry, but Cesare was walking fast and she had to hurry to keep up with him. His face was downcast and he looked troubled.
She smiled at him. "Guess SOMEBODY'S been studying for Potions. I know even your tutor wasn't sure about the answer to that one," Hermione teased. "You've been the 'super student' lately."
Cesare didn't look at her. "Yeah, I guess," he mumbled.
Hermione held out her hand and stopped him. Her eyes grew concerned as she looked at him. "Are you alright?"
Cesare glanced up from the floor and gazed at her, lost for words. She always seemed to be able to read his mind. It was unnerving. For a minute he considered confessing the host of mysteries that had been plaguing his mind. How he suddenly knew all the answers and incantation in his classes, yet not having any clue where he learned them. Cesare had always been a good student, but this was simply bizarre. And wasn't all that had been worrying him. The disturbing nightmares with eerie voice that haunted his dreams every night. The odd blankness that overcame him whenever he tried to remember his trip home.
He opened his mouth, ready to speak, but Hermione's warm, trusting face stopped him cold. He didn't want to bother her with this. She'd probably think he was crazy and be suspicious about how he had suddenly got so much stronger at magic. And the truth was that not even Cesare knew the answer to that question.
He forced a laugh. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just eager to get to lunch, that's all."
"Okay," Hermione said, but not all of the worry left her visage. The dark, pleading look in Cesare's eyes continued to haunt her, despite his words.
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After dinner, they had a short, but frantic Quidditch practice. Harry made them practice drills, with increasing degrees of obsessive ness. They had the final match against Slytherin in a little over a month that decide who would win the House Cup.
Harry held Ron after practice to discuss defense tactics. Cesare left, not wanting to bring down Harry's wrath and scrutiny upon himself.
He headed back to the common room, his mind set on a quick shower and change. As he climbed up the staircase and approached the Fat Lady, a hand suddenly pulled him into a nearby doorway.
"Hey! What the-?" he was silenced when he recognized Hermione. Che smiled and shook his head slowly.
"I don't know what I've done to you. Sneaking around, pulling boys into doorways. I think I've been a bad influence. Assif, my profuse apologies," he said in a shame-filled voice.
Hermione smiled smugly. "Well, my bad influencer looks pretty handsome in his Quidditch robes. Maybe I could think of a way he could make up for all the damage he's done to my behavioral skills," she said playfully, pulling him closer.
He wrapped his arms around her. "I would be happy to oblige," he whispered, pushing her back against the door. Her lips met his, warm and welcoming.
Hermione broke away for a minute. "My, my. I should pull you into doorways more often." She laughed.
-_~ Downstairs ~_-
"So you wouldn't mind doing it?" Harry asked anxiously. He had just told Ron about Almari's offer to teach him Legilimency and how he needed someone else to help him.
"Sure," Ron agreed. A mischievous glint was shining in his eyes. "Just as long as I can make you read other people's minds for me. Y'know like if we're at the Three Broomsticks and Madam Rosmerta happens to........."
Harry laughed. "I think that would be abusing my power. Besides, I doubt I'll be able to do anything like that. The only thing I'll probably accomplish is guessing which color you're thinking of," he said with a shrug, as they climbed the winding stairs.
Ron rolled his eyes and they starting arguing friendly about Harry' new autographed broomstick when they reached the Fat Lady's portrait. Harry heard a familiar laugh and stopped, holding his hand up to silence Ron.
He walked towards the direction of the laugh and called out, "Hermione?" He stepped past an old classroom. He came to a dead stop when he recognized the couple kissing in the shadowy doorway.
When she noticed Harry, Hermione's eyes widened in shock and she pushed Cesare away. He turned his head to see what Hermione was goggling at and didn't seem surprised to see Harry and Ron there.
"Uh ....... er. ......... this isn't ........ it's not ........." Hermione started to stammer.
"Hello, Harry," Cesare said, quite cheerfully.
Harry started to say something, but was interrupted when Ron joined him.
"Hey, Harry. Is that Hermione and ........." Ron suddenly came into view. His eyes darted back and forth from Cesare's cocky grin to Hermione's nervous expression. His mouth gaped open and closed, like a fish. All the color drained from his face, to be replaced with an angry flush.
Harry looked at his best friend in alarm. A wild look had filled his eyes, only to be replaced with a sudden sad, closed-off expression.
Hermione was paying no attention to Harry. Her fearful gaze was reserved for Ron only, and a flicker of pain swept across her face.
Ron blinked frantically and then muttered under his breath, "I ..... I have to go." He hurried off through the portrait hole.
Something close to regret and horror flooded Hermione's eyes. "Ron! Wait!" She ran after him, leaving Cesare and Harry alone.
Cesare started to follow Hermione, but Harry blocked him. "Let her go," he said quietly.
The Egyptian nodded and stared at Harry expectantly. Harry was hesitant for a moment, and felt very awkward. Then he asked the obvious question.
"Are you and Hermione ..........? Y'know ..........?"
"Yes," Che said simply.
"Since when?" Harry asked confused at this easy confession. The pair just did not make sense. He never would have imagined Hermione would like Cesare that way. He had always just though that........well........she and Ron........
"Since Christmas."
"So-- not long?"
"No."
"Oh." Harry wasn't sure what else to say, but he felt strangely protective of Hermione.
"Do you like her?" he asked bluntly.
Cesare's dark face showed no reaction to the question and Harry felt a strange urge to shake the other student out of his cool, collected state.
"Yes, very much so," he answered honestly.
"Good. Because I'll kill you if you hurt her," Harry said, an odd calm descending upon him as he said that.
"I'll take that into consideration," Che said lightly.
"Right." Harry rocked on his heels and nodded uncomfortably.
"Can we go back into the common room now?" Cesare suggested, sweeping his arm to gesture to the common room entrance.
"Yeah," Harry said, glad to leave this conversation behind.
They arrived in time to see an angry Hermione storming up the winding staircase to the girls' dormitory. Ron was sulking in front of the fire. His eyes glinted angrily when he saw Cesare.
Che had his suspicions about why Ron was upset, but didn't really care to think about it. Maybe he was just as protective of Hermione as Harry was. Deciding that he didn't really like explaining himself to a pissed off Weasley; he headed towards his dorm room, leaving Harry behind with Ron.
Harry cautiously approached Ron and sat down in the armchair opposite him. Ron had pulled a book in front of his face.
"Ron?" Harry tentatively asked.
Ron continued to practically burning holes through the book. This was a ruse to make it appear like he was intently studying. "I can't really talk right now. Must......must study for......for......Divinations."
Harry sighed. "Okay, Ron, two things very wrong with that, mate," he said gently. "One: we don't take Divinations anywhere. Two: the book is upside-down......"
His red-haired friend scowled and angrily turned the book around. "Bloody hell. You're right," he muttered. Ron's eyes were dark with anger, and.......and something else. Harry couldn't put his finger on it.
"Guess I really shouldn't be surprised," Ron continued bitterly. His fingernails dug into the plush crimson armrests, his gaze boring into the carpet. The light from the fire danced across his face in orange and red jittery waves.
Ron screwed up his face and said in an obnoxious voice, eerily reminiscent of Cho Chang's giggly friends, "He's so RICH, and so smart and so talented at magic!" His voice went back to normal, yet embittered. "Hermione goes for the big guys. First Krum, now al-Jalil. The bloke lives in a bloody CASTLE, for Merlin's sake!" He sighed and dropped his head into his hands.
Harry didn't know what to say. There had always been a part of him that suspected Ron liked Hermione as more than a friend. Especially after what happened with Krum in their fifth year. He had been waiting for something to happen; either for Ron to tell him or ask Hermione out. But nothing had ever happened since then and he started to forget about it.
Ron finally lifted his head and his eyes met Harry's. His face was filled with pain and Harry felt sickened for his best friend.
Ron furiously shook his head. "I'm just rubbish compared to that."
"No, you're not," Harry said sharply. "Listen to yourself, Ron!" he whispered fiercely. "Look at the Malfoy's. They're the nastiest family around! And Cesare's family? From what I hear of his uncle, he makes Snape seem like a nice, gentle, fluffy owl!"
Ron couldn't help snickering at the comparison, but it was obvious he was still hurting badly. He rubbed his forehead and stood up. It could have been a trick of the light, but Harry could have sworn that for a second he saw a wet trickle gleaming from one of Ron's eyes.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he mutter, but didn't sound very convinced." He walked to a nearby table and plunked himself in a seat, slamming his bag on the surface. "I think I'm just gonna finish up some work for Charms."
Harry nodded, realizing that Ron probably wasn't ready to be in the same room as Cesare right now. That would probably be very hazardous to the health of both of them.
"Alright." He gathered up his things and started for the staircase.
"Oh, wait. Harry, do me a favor. Let's never mention this conversation again. Please." Ron said jokingly, but Harry saw the pleading look in his eyes.
He cracked half a smile. "Sure, Ron." He bid him good night and went upstairs.
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To call the next few days a bit difficult and tense would have been a massive understatement. Ron flatly refused to speak to Hermione, and would flex his fingers whenever he saw Cesare, as if itching to throttle the exchange student. Che learned to simply ignore him, but it was obvious that Ron's actions hurt Hermione.
Harry was unwillingly drawn into the battle. He wouldn't say he picked sides, but with Hermione and Ron not speaking, it was impossible to be with both of them. And since Hermione and Cesare were often together, Harry naturally stuck by Ron. He didn't notice at first, but this put a chill on his budding friendship with Che. It was something he would sincerely regret in several months.
There were other drawbacks. By the next morning, the entire school seemed to have the general idea of what was going on. Hermione was teased constantly. (Very few dared say anything to Cesare; the time he had put Malfoy in the hospital wing was still fresh in many minds.) But Snape demanded on separating them at every moment, saying sarcastically that the environment had to be kept 'academic.'
Hermione did have to admit that there were some benefits of their secret being out. She could hold his hand or give him a quick kiss without the terrible worry that they would be discovered.
Cesare was so wrapped up with Hermione, Quidditch, and lessons that he almost forgot the strange things that had been happening to him lately. Or he would have almost forgotten if it weren't for a very strange experience Monday night.
It was indecently late and the common room was deserted. The only sounds were the snapping, sizzling firewood burning away and the scratching of a quill. He was desperately trying to finish up an essay on the early calligraphy of Bavarian pictographs for Ancient Runes.
He squinted to see by the shadows of flickering firelight and is elbow bumped up against his inkwell, knocking it over. "Damn," he mumbled. There hadn't been much ink left, but it still made a mess. Che sighed. All he wanted to do was finish this ridiculous essay and try and catch some sleep. He had been plagued by nightmares and insomnia recently, and it was starting to have a great impact. He'd been dozing in classes and there were always dark circles under his eyes.
Cesare rummaged through his bag for another inkwell, but couldn't find one. He eyed one on another table across the common room. It was late and everyone was gone save him. He figured whoever owned it wouldn't mind if he borrowed a bit. He was too lazy to go across the room and get it, so he decided to Summon it, and then realized he had left his wand upstairs.
He rolled his eyes. 'Just get up and get the stupid thing,' he scolded himself.
"Accio," he muttered anyway as he slowly stood up. He started to walk towards the other table, but was interrupted when the inkwell suddenly zoomed across the room, directly at his head. He quickly ducked his head to narrowly avoid being knocked out by the flying projectile. It smashed into the wall, splattering a nearby painting with dark ink. The medieval women in the painting screamed as they were stained from head to foot.
"Ungainly rapscallion! Look what thou've done?" they cried, throwing up their arms and wailing.
Che was bewildered. "But, how ...... how? I couldn't have. I don't even have my wand!" he exclaimed. His gaze roamed over the room. Was someone trying to play a trick on him? How had the inkwell flown like that?
The women in the ruined portrait continued to berate Cesare and shoot him dirty looks.
He walked over and stared at the glittering glass shards. All that remained of the bottle.
"Not possible," he muttered. "Unless ........." He glanced at a third-year Transfigurations book, lying abandoned on one of the armchairs.
"Accio."
The book flew towards him and he caught it neatly in his hand. He raised it slowly in to his widened, wondrous eyes. His hand was shaking.
"Il mio dio," Che gasped. "This-- this cannot be happening," he continued to stammer to himself.
He tried again with other books, bags, and cushions. Anything he could Summon. Anything t prove that this was just a horrible dream. But after about ten minutes, he gave up. He could Summon without his wand. Cesare fell back against the wall and slowly sunk to the floor. He felt sick to his stomach with fear, amazement, and adrenaline. He was shaking badly and still cradled one of the cushions he had Summoned.
Cesare pressed his chin against his knees. What the hell was happening to him?
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The next morning in Defense against the Dark Arts, Cesare could barely keep his eyes open. He was slumped over his desk and completely unresponsive to Hermione's attempts at conversation. Professor Almari started speaking, and Hermione prodded him hard in the ribs.
Cesare glanced wearily at Hermione. He had resolved to tell her everything after class. He needed someone to confide in and she would be the best person. She might even be able to explain if this was normal.
She pushed a strand of black hair out of his eyes. "Are you awake now? Did you sleep at all last night?" she whispered.
"Not really," he confessed. He had finally left the common room around three AM, but the nightmares were even worse that night. The same dreams filled with green light and screaming. Although this one had been a bit different. The cold voice had started telling him things. Spells, curses, potion recipes; he could barely remember them now. He woke up shortly after that and had been unable and unwilling to fall back asleep.
"I have to talk to you after class," he whispered back. She nodded and then focused her attention back to the lesson.
Che tried to focus on her lecture, but as his eyelids slowly dropped, the jinn became a blurry figure, and his mind started to wander again. Almari seemed to have his negative opinion of Northern European weather and kept her room very warm during the winter. The heat combined with the aroma of sandalwood incense created a drowsy effect, and he was dangerously close to falling back asleep, when something the professor mentioned snapped him back awake and to attention as if he had been struck by lightning.
"Now wand-less magic is a skill highly revered by Dark wizards. Very, very few are able to pull it off. There were only two believed capable of it this century. Grindelwald and the Dark Lord." Almari looked grave, as usual, when she spoke of Voldemort. She made eye contact with the class to emphasize her point.
"Think about it. How did you feel when you went to get your first wand? Wands are held sacred in the wizarding community. They allow us to do most magic and that is the very thing that separates us from Muggles. Yet we are limited without our wands. To go beyond a wand is to break a barrier that holds wizards back from abusing their power."
"Wand-less magic is usually just simple spells and charms. Stunning, Levitating, Summoning. Things of that nature."
When he heard the word "Summoning," Cesare dropped his quill.
Almari started to go on about how to recognize wand-less magic, but Che rudely interrupted and shouted out his question.
"Wait, Professor. Is ALL wand-less magic considered a dark art?" he asked.
A gleam of amusement shone in the jinn's dark eyes. "Ah, Mr. al-Jalil, are we awake now? I wasn't aware you were paying the slightest bit of attention." She crossed her slender arms and gave him a stern look.
But Cesare would not be deterred. Ignoring her scolding glare, he pressed on. "Sorry," he said hastily. "But is it? Is all wand-less magic a Dark Art?"
The jinn nodded. "Oh, yes. Only a very advanced Dark wizard would be capable of such a feat. Getting caught would be enough of a charge to be sent away to Azkaban for a lifetime. A wizard needs a great amount of power to break free of a wand, and such power is not usually obtained through.......well.....ethical means."
He persisted, but Almari didn't seem to detect the desperation in his voice. "So, there is no other way a spell could be accomplished without a wand?" His eyes held a trace a pleading.
"No, not unless it was a potion or used with another magical device. The closest to what you're asking about would be Divination or Legilimency, but those are entirely different branches of magic."
"Oh," Che said in strange tone. He studied the surface of his desk, while an ill feeling grew in his stomach. His mind continued to spin with possibilities.
The bell rang and they gathered up their stuff.
"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione asked casually as they left the class.
"Oh. I, ah, forget. It wasn't important though," he assured her. His face was an inscrutable mask and his eyes held no hint of the dark thought that haunted his mind.
"Well, if you remember, you can tell me later," she said with a smile and took his hand in hers.
"Yeah," Che forced a small grin, and they walked to their next class.
But he couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell anyone. He would have to figure this out on his own. He was just lucky Almari had discussed that in his class today, otherwise he would have opened his big mouth and Hermione would probably think he was some kind of evil sorcerer.
But the jinni HAD to be wrong. There HAD to be another way to perform simple spells without a wand. Che wasn't a Dark wizard and sure as hell wouldn't be powerful enough to not use a wand.
But thoughts of the nightmares and the recent easiness of school ebbed at his mind. He sat down at the desk he shared with Harry in Charms.
He looked at his friend out of the corner of his eyes. He couldn't tell Harry either. Nobody could know. He would have to figure out what was happening on his own.
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-_~ Author's Note ~_-
Please review! Please.........please!
Also, I will be changing my penname to Amarain. Please look for my story under that name.
Thanks to THW (who is probably cursing my existence after what I did to her Ronniekins, lol) and vanillacreme
