Felico Gibbon always liked playing with fire.
That was his first magic, you know. He conjured fire out of thin air.
He set Bertha Jorkin's skirts on fire his first year.
It was funny to watch her jump and howl as the flames licked her knees.
He burned the McKinnon's house down, when Travers was through with them.
Nothing compared to watching the grand old mansion collapse in smoke.
Felico Gibbon always liked playing with fire.
That was his last magic you know. He set a classroom on fire after locking a few students inside.
He watched them burn and felt alive, until, suddenly; there was a flash of green.
The flames in his eyes went dark, the fire in his soul burnt out. And Felico became cold as ice.