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Sitting on the stone-cold floor of the Room of Requirement, I sighed as I finally finished the preparations for the Horcrux-hunting ritual.
This ritual is designed to trace and connect all Horcruxes—I don't know if Voldemort is counted as one, but that's where the fun of mystery lies, isn't it?
Now, let's start—and start I did. I pumped magic into the ritual circle, and it began to glow. The runes connected, and the symbols intertwined. It was an impressive sight to behold.
I watched with fascination as the magic, after passing through the circle, connected with reality. I observed its operation as it began the search for all the remaining Horcruxes—a thread of magic connected all of them.
True, I couldn't see the objects themselves, but I could see how the magic linked them using the very fabric of reality as a platform.
It was in that moment that I saw a chance to eradicate them all in one fell swoop. I didn't want to risk losing the chance to obliterate them all together by getting lost in the fascinating sight before me.
*Oh, how I wanted to stay there and watch, to try and understand how it all truly worked, but I didn't have time.*
So, I used my beloved *Ignis Sanctus* spell and watched as the fire traveled through the threads of magic and began to purify and destroy all the Horcruxes at the same time.
It was spellbinding to see how the spell traversed different places simultaneously, even if the amount of magic it took from me was staggering.
To give you an estimate, this whole process would require the effort of two Flitwick-level wizards to the point of exhaustion—or three very tired Flitwicks—to accomplish it.
Though it didn't magically tire me much, it did take a toll on my concentration. Do you know how strong the concentration must be to keep this going until it's finished? It's a lot, especially with me using my magical sight and fighting the urge to abandon this whole endeavor just to stay and study how the magic utilized reality as a bridge—a platform, or whatever description you want to call it.
And how could reality allow such a thing without consequences? The alluring fabric of reality was calling to me. I wanted to study it, to see how it was built, what concepts and laws were used to construct it…
Then, as if cold water had been dumped on my very soul, the voice of Death sounded in my head.
*"Don't do that again! I aided you and stopped prying eyes from noticing what you have done, but this is the last time,"* she said in a voice so cold that I felt chills in my very soul and that sobered me right up.
And then it hit me: I should *not* have been able to do what I just did! No matter how much magic I have, my existence hasn't reached the level required to accomplish it, nor was the ritual designed for it. What the ritual was supposed to do was merely locate the Horcruxes so I could destroy them manually.
*Seems like I need to restudy the whole thing to see where it went wrong.*
I also need to check why it affected me so much. It's true I'm obsessed with anything magical—and you would be too if you could see and understand it like I do—but something went very wrong here.
I'm not that impulsive; I wouldn't risk it just to destroy the Horcruxes in one go. Something went wrong, and it somehow affected me. But what? I need to meditate and enter my mindscape to see what's wrong.
I did just that. I entered my mindscape, summoned my grimoire, and started checking everything. After making sure it wasn't affected, I began using it to search for what was wrong.
It took a while, but I finally found the issue. It was something that made my instincts scream to destroy it. It felt like a seed of something—a part of a collective consciousness. It felt *wrong*. So, I did the smart thing and used my null energy to trap it.
I made very sure that it couldn't affect me anymore, and then I felt it—the relief. It felt like something had been sitting on my emotional center, and now it was gone.
*Hmm, so that's how it works.* It couldn't control me or any wizard, for that matter. So, it did the only logical thing and played with emotions, amplifying the most prominent one a person was feeling at a time.
Now, I'm angry. This thing couldn't have come out of nowhere. Thus, the only logical explanation is that it entered my mindscape through someone else—and I have a pretty solid idea of who that might be.
I suppose this is just me paying the price for my arrogance, no matter how small said price may seem. I guess a humbling experience every now and then is what I need to grow.
Now, the next logical step is to devise a revenge plan:
1. Take this thing out of here.
2. Design a trapping formation using null energy and magic to ensure it can't act further.
3. Upgrade Hogwarts' defenses, search formations, and runic inscriptions to locate and extract similar entities (I don't believe this is the only one).
4. Research how to annihilate this thing's very existence.
As I continued meditating to calm myself, I felt Nature asking me, *"What's bothering you?"* I found it hilarious and endearing that the very planet was asking me what was wrong! Well, what could I do? I had to tell someone, so I did—and she surprised me.
She knew what the being was yet refused to tell me about it. She also hated its very existence and told me to use natural energy, saying it would help. That's all she said before seemingly ignoring me.
*Wait, why am I referring to the planet as "she"? What's going on with me today? This is so not my day.*
I'm going out for a walk. Meditation was supposed to clear my head; it didn't. Now, I'll do it the old-fashioned way—by finding a distraction.
While walking around the fourth floor, I suddenly heard a scream. *Oh, Fate, thou art a heartless bitch.* I hurried toward the source and found a Slytherin boy on the ground, screaming in pain, and a Hufflepuff girl cowering in a corner.
By the look of it, the boy (a seventh-year) had been trying to assault the girl (a third- or fourth-year). I walked in, got closer, and kicked him, making him scream louder before fainting.
Looking at the girl, I waved my wand, and her uniform was fixed. "You can go on your way now. Don't worry about him or anything like this happening again." She didn't need to hear it twice; she stood up quickly and hurried out.
I levitated the boy and started walking toward the infirmary, not forgetting to drop him once or twice—just for the sake of it.
"Mr. Potter! What happened? Why are you dragging a Slytherin boy here like that? What happened to him?" Madam Pomfrey questioned rapidly as she hurried over. She might have thought I'd hurt him, so I corrected her before she could say more.
"Madam Pomfrey, we have a wannabe rapist here. He was punished accordingly—though *I* didn't do it. That was all Hogwarts." She looked at me skeptically but didn't comment. She just took the boy and began her diagnostic spells…
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