Harry and Turias had sat at the same place as they had the previous night, but instead for breakfast. It was a stifling silence, with Harry too shy to start a conversation, and Turias having not known how to start the conversation with his past self, despite knowing all he did about himself, and all the past years he had lived. He again wished he'd paid closer attention to the less precise sciences; who cared if you had the muscle memory to remove a malignant tumour attached to a patient's heart, if you had no patients to practice on?
They were thankful for the interruption of their awkward silence that came in the form of Professor McGonagall handing out their schedules for the day, and had then taken a look set schedule. When their eyes had strayed to their pages, McGonagall nodded once without their noticing and had then walked away.
Turias knew that their schedule was very different from the average first-year student, and it looked like they mainly had self-study except for the times when they had practical exams with the professors and the rest of the students of their year. Of course, he wouldn't be the one to inform Harry of that, as he knew that it was already too much for the boy to be so different, even amongst his fellow wizards. It would set him into a silent panic attack, and it would be one that would be major - as any panic attack is prone to be - but it would go unnoticed by anyone not looking for it or not a professional.
Turias didn't want to leave Harry to suffer in silence, and alone, when he could easily just be there for him. He wished that he'd had that when he was in the same shoes as Harry.
Satisfied with the schedule, and knowing what the concentrated frown on Harry's face meant, Turias decided to speak up again. Of course, he made sure everyone else didn't know that he had done it through some subtle use of different types of glamours. "Since we have the same schedule, we should study together. After breakfast I have just the place to do so, so follow me." Harry had nodded his assent, and then they went back to finishing their breakfast, with Turias keeping a close eye on Harry to make sure he ate.
After their large breakfast, Turias had led Harry on a very little-known path all the way up to the seventh level. There, Turias had then paced back and forth in front of a smooth expanse of wall until a very unremarkable door had appeared. Turias looked back to see Harry with a grin on his face, looking at where the door was situated, and Turias could practically hear the thought that went through Harry's head of, "I love magic."
Turias smirked, and then he beckoned Harry forward while opening said unremarkable door. But that was just the door, and inside it was the Room of Requirements, or the Come and Go room as the elves had lovingly dubbed it. This very room, Turias himself had created in a past life, long ago and even longer still in his own personal history. It was so long ago that Turias had forgotten what he had named it, and he had forgotten what it was named.
He still remembered how it worked, and how to make one, though. Even if he didn't, he was sure that if he worked on a new one, then the memories would rush back in.
It was in this room that Turias had set about educating young Harry, and it was the best room to do so, what with it catering to their needs as they went. In the next month, Harry had progressed quite well in his studies, and Turias had been sure not to tell Harry just how far he had progressed.
From the mixture of having a personal teacher in the subjects of the schedule, and Harry being a natural quick learner, Turias was able to bring Harry's education to match and exceed Harry's knowledge of the wizarding world of any pureblood child. Of course, the lessons weren't just in pureblood etiquette.
They weren't even confined to the guideline that was in their schedule. Turias had been teaching Harry anything from how to properly hold a blade, cooking, magical cleaning, some of the third year and above courses, and some of the things from the Dark Arts, even.
Turias didn't believe in any of the stigma against the Dark Arts, having lived in times when Witches and Wizards had freely used them, and many a person had openly used methods thought impossible or taboo.
Of course, Turias hadn't been able to shove the knowledge into Harry's head without harming him, so Harry was really only in a beginner stage for everything except the pureblood knowledge on who was who, and etiquette. Because of the press for time, the room they used to study was modified, as per the original capabilities, to change how time on the inside of said room flowed.
That thought brought back memories of times Turias had read into the Science Fiction genre. He had smirked at the thought that humans have been using time travel for thousands of years, yet technology hadn't been able to simulate it yet. He had been a fan of one series in a previous life, as the main character, when met with death, struck quite close to home. He had later found out that he was almost every one of the Doctors on that show, through his different lifetimes. It was a very surreal experience to finally know that his fellow Doctors were himself, and that he himself had been a fan of himself.
He briefly wondered how his character would have reacted to the knowledge that humans have had time travel, and his precious space expansion tech for thousands of years, even before proper governments had formed. Hell, he even wondered for the thousandth time what that character's reaction to magic itself would have been. He chewed on the mental bubblegum for a bit before moving on with another of Harry and his 'self-study' periods.
So, it was at the end of the month, that Turias was proud to say - if he had been known for talking - that Harry was a novice in many different subjects. Of course, Turias didn't tell Harry that he knew more than the average first year student, nor how abnormal it was that he could do a fair few Dark spells. Turias was careful, however, to teach Harry magic safety. Magic safety was not dissimilar to gun safety, or common sense in handling blades and bows from some of the times he had lived in. There was the normal, "Don't point it at people, it's dangerous," but that was the bare bones of it. He had to be taught how to properly handle his emotions, as that was what Dark magic was tied to: the emotions and even more so the desires. It was why love potions, compulsion charms, most curses (as they used the emotions for a greater effect), and many others were considered Dark.
In fact, using this classification of Olde, plenty of spells that the Ministry of Magic of the time that considered Light, were in fact Dark. Like the Patronus Charm.
Another fact about the two camps, Light and Dark magic was poorly translated from the original language that defined them, which was supposed to be translated to Apathy and Sensation, respectively. The users at the time, when they had transitioned from one language to another, didn't like the negative connotation of Apathy to be applied to them, so they used Light and Dark. They weren't really contested, too, because the majority of magic users were Light oriented, or had the ability to use Light magic.
Which was another reason why Dark magic had such stigma, because it took someone in control of their emotions to use Dark magic, lest there normally be a very violent backlash that would harm not only the user, but also others. On the other end, if light magic was cast incorrectly, the only result would be a failed spell. There wouldn't normally be a backlash of having too good a mental image of the desired effect, or a poor one. If there was too poor an image, normally the spell just wouldn't work. The exception was transfiguration, in which there were more factors.
The killing curse, Avada Kedavra, was an example of too much emotion being used in a spell resulting in a poor cast. It was originally a spell invented for healers, and to be administered to patients suffering from a variation of ailments. It was originally the medical version of the Finite spell, and cast with a strong sense of pity, mercy, love, empathy for pain and suffering, anguish or anxiety for the patient. When cast with anger or a very strong emotion in the opposite, it did the opposite to disastrous effect. Except for mercy, in which it would result in a case of active euthanasia without the destruction of the soul.
The other unforgivable curses were similar cases of warped versions of healing magic. It was one of the reasons why Turias was so respectful of healers, doctors, and nurses because they had the tools to kill easily and untraceably, but they didn't in most cases. Instead they used their craft for the betterment of their patients in any way they could.
Turias would be the first to admit that he used to be one of those same selfless people, before he used that same craft to devastating effect 'for the greater good' at the time. He was a foolish child, back then.
Light magic, on the other hand, was anything that fell into the classification of visualising the effect desired. With light magic, the mood didn't matter for the spell to work, as their castor could be wildly out of control of their emotions but with such a clear head that the magic would work. The levitation charm was a perfect example of this, where the castor could be overwhelmed with fear, but with a clear enough image of what they wanted the object to do so that it worked. The only danger came if they were thinking of something else at the time of the cast, resulting in something like a feather catching fire instead of an unfelt breeze.
Then there was Grey magic, where there had to be a mixture of the two taking place in order for the magics to work. There were many examples of this, and they often were the most complex or complicated magics. There was anything from magically binding contracts - whereupon they'd be null and void if the signee wasn't mentally culpable, to blood magic runes etched into one's own skin. There were, of course, very rare instances that neither were involved, and they were considered Grey as well.
Then there was the slight issue of making sure he knew how to properly manage his own emotions and have a clear head in order to properly learn and cast his magic. Turias had taught Harry different meditation techniques, until they found one that helped and worked for Harry. Unsurprisingly, it was a different technique to the one that Turias favoured, as Harry was not as experienced as Turias.
For this reason, Turias had taught Harry the other techniques anyway, as he knew that Harry would change as he gained experience. It never really paid to be inflexible.
At the end of their month, the two had to have a check-up in all of their studies, a larger test in each subject to see how well they were progressing and if they needed to move them to be taught with the rest of the students. This also had the downside of having a large practical for each of them, to see if what they had learned in study was applicable to reality.
Of course, they had had previous experience practicals, but that was with the rest of the class, and in the case of potions they were paired together. Here, they were expected to come in alone, and create an entire potion from scratch without the instructions on the board.
Turias had faith that Harry could do it, and he himself knew he would pass. Many a potion he had had to brew himself in his past lives, usually to save another. He knew that they could brew any potion that they wanted, but the professor was expecting them to brew something closer to the first-year curriculum.
Before they were to create the potion of their choice, though, they had to write about it. They were expected to state what it was, the content, how it was made, its use, and finally how it was applied.
Turias had been scheduled with the resident potions master first, but he was there mainly to just make sure he didn't explode or wasn't cheating. It was the last one that was most important, and Professor Severus Snape put the most emphasis on. If there was one thing the great bat, as he was dubbed by the student populace, hated most, it was cheaters. As much as he had bemoaned when a dunderhead student had melted a cauldron or outright blew up, he figured that since they were at the epicenter, he would go easy on them.
He also figured that since it was literally the description of Slytherin, he would go the easiest on them if they were cheating. At least, in public. In private, however, he would scold them for getting caught cheating. A good Slytherin wouldn't get caught.
The shady professor's philosophy notwithstanding, he was still a very good potions master, and Turias respected him for that, if nothing else. His test began normally, or as normal as it could be given the situation, with Professor Snape having just gestured to a seat waiting for him to start.
Turias chose to do a potion that he had invented a very long time ago, and had not taught anyone else besides Pernelle Flamel. It was well-known, but no one had ever been able to recreate it as Mrs. Flamel hadn't taught anyone else, and had laughed at her husband's attempts to recreate the potion. It had been a challenge for his protege to accomplish, and Turias had taught "Penny" it to check if he had gotten it right when he wasn't there.
It was a potion to extract the magical essence of a being, normally without hurting them, and it could be used in various different ways.
Some of which would be considered quite Dark, but sense Turias came from a prominently Dark sided family, it wouldn't be all that much of an eyebrow raiser. It would be, however, when he would only mention what it could be used for that would be considered "Good". Although the methods were Dark, they were very Good. It was one of those things that would illuminate the fact that just because it was Dark, does not mean it is supposed to only be used for Evil.
Turias had decided that it was about time that the potion was re-introduced to wizarding society. It would also bring some attention to himself, having "rediscovered" such a rare potion. That, or the potions professor would just plagiarize it as his own. He doubted it, as it wasn't in his nature that he had observed, but there was a possibility. There was always that possibility. He had made sure to use the name of the original creator somewhere in there. It wouldn't do for himself not to get credit where credit was due.
The Bat-Of-The-Dungeons had looked up from his marking the dunderheads "work" (He refused to call it actual work, as that implied mental or physical effort or activity to which there was no real evidence he had) to the curiosity that was the Lestrange child. The boy was an enigma, and not at all what the parents were like. The parents were loud, and quite noticeably insane. The male Lestrange was harder to notice, as he wasn't as outward about it, but it was there and even a Hufflepuff would notice. The only thing the boy had going for the assumption that he was insane was unhealthily quiet nature, and his parents being unhinged.
The boy always had a smile, and gave a pleasant although silent acknowledgement to anyone regardless of status.
At the moment, the boy was doing some very odd things with the cauldron, and some very odd-looking apparatus that he assumed wouldn't be out of place for an alchemist's lab or the muggle equivalent of a potion's lab. It was true that potions and alchemy were generally considered the same thing, there were just two different names for the same thing. An alchemist just might prefer different methods to a potions master, but they were the same thing.
There were differences, though, and Severus was reminded of a conversation with the Master he'd apprenticed under:
"Potions is like baking: if you're not exact enough in your measurements, or follow the recipe magic has guided us to, the potion will never turn out right. Worse, even – it might just explode." He'd said, back when Severus didn't have any grey hairs.
Curious, he'd then asked, "So what about Alchemy?"
"Alchemy's more like muggle chemistry. Mix two ingredients together wrong using alchemical means, and you'll get something much worse than a melted cauldron or a small explosion that would take out the shop. So, pay attention when I'm teaching you how to prepare these cattails before we inadvertently ruin a perfectly good cauldron."
Severus sometimes missed Old Man Grapes. He never did find out what his actual name was, though, even when Old Man Grapes had signed off on Severus' Mastery.
Severus Snape shook off the sudden nostalgia and let the boy continue, all the while watching in interest the things he was doing that was above and beyond a NEWT student might be able to accomplish or probably comprehend. Hell, if it worked, then it would be the first time that Severus had ever seen an alchemical operation of any kind undertaken. If it didn't, well, the world could do with less Lestranges in it.
He knew right there, that even if he turned out a few sandwiches shy of a picnic, the boy would be brilliant. That was, if they got whatever they were doing correct.
He was not to be disappointed in the slightest with what he had received. It was one of the best tests Professor Severus Snape had the pleasure of marking, seeing the potential in a boy that had cracked open a potion that had been boggling the minds of many a master of the field. Rumour had it that even the famous Nicholas Flamel, in all his years hadn't been able to do it, with his wife the only one that had been taught. It was also rumoured to be used in the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, a powerful stone that allowed for the creation of the Elixir of Life.
He, of course, tried the instructions set out in the report he had received, and to his surprise it had worked. The boy hadn't cheated with bringing an already made version either. It was awe inspiring, though he'd never speak it aloud, that the boy's - Lestrange, he reminded himself - potion was better than the one he had ended up with. And if the report was to be believed, the potion could be used for quite a few things, and he couldn't wait to see how he could use it for curing Lycanthropy.
It would be a blessing to all to not have the frightening beasts roam around every moon, regardless if there was wolfsbane. He couldn't wait to start researching on it with what he assumed to be a breakthrough.
Severus Snape's face showed a smirk, the only indication of the man's happy mood, and only someone like Albus Dumbledore, one who had known the man for a very long time, would be able to pick up on it.
Turias and Harry's other exams went in similar ways, with the students thoroughly amazing the teachers with what they knew at their age, and in Harry's case only one month of being in the magical world. Unanimously, they voted for the boys to continue with what they were doing, as it was working.
So enraptured were they, that they failed to mention to the two Apprentices just how extraordinary what they did was. They even failed to ask Harry to elaborate when he had casually mentioned that he had actually spoken to Turias, and Turias Lestrange spoke back when they had asked who helped Harry before Harry had already left the room.
All of this left the teachers in a state of contemplation.