Chapter 10: The Adventurers' Club
It occurred to Ryan that the professors were all aware of his presence and that Dumbledore was deliberately fostering his growth. As they cast their own enchantments, they seemed to slow down, forgoing the usual shrouds of secrecy that accompanied complex spellwork so that he could observe and learn.
"It's your turn, Ryan."
The group moved to the next empty chamber. "I've told the professors about your desire to start a club," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "They all agree that you must demonstrate the necessary ability to ensure the safety of our students. So, now is your chance to convince them."
"Understood," Ryan replied. He took a deep breath and drew his wand. This was a moment for demonstrating raw power and control, not for showing off flashy, wandless techniques.
Under the expectant and appraising gazes of the professors—and the utterly incredulous stare of Professor Quirrell—he began to wave his wand. "Confundo."
A great, shimmering ball of iridescent light erupted from the tip of his wand and sank into the floor, bathing the stone in a disorienting, dreamlike glow.
"Impressive power, and a deep understanding of the charm," Professor Flitwick murmured from the back of the group.
Hidden from the professors' view, the silver chain on Ryan's wrist pulsed with light, feeding a steady stream of magical energy into him. It was the one item he had kept from the alchemist's ruin—the external power source from the manuscript. This single silver chain, crafted from the bonded life-force of five house-elves, could store and provide the magical equivalent of an average adult wizard. It also granted him the ability to use the house-elf version of Apparition.
"Obscuro," he intoned. The light level in the room dropped sharply, plunging the corners into deep shadow.
"Transforma. Legilimens."
The loose rubble on the floor began to shift and reform into a series of tall mirrors, their surfaces reflecting a cold, empty light.
"An excellent Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. "Fifty points to Ravenclaw. Mr. Welles should be studying advanced Transfiguration with me."
Professor Flitwick shot her a look and opened his mouth, but said nothing.
Ryan continued to wave his wand, using Summoning Charms to command various materials to fly into place from a bag at his side. He then placed the Nightmare Mirror in the center of the room, surrounded by the identical conjured mirrors and at the heart of the runic circle he was forming.
"Incendio!"
A torrent of magical flame roared from his wand, igniting the materials one by one and etching a complex magical array onto the floor. As the array began to harden and set, Ryan produced several vials of identical potions. "Fear and Hallucination Potions, brewed myself."
He poured the potions into the glowing runes. As the magic solidified, the room became palpably cold and menacing, even before the trap was fully active. A deep, primal sense of dread filled the air, as if some terrible horror was about to manifest.
Snape, sniffing the potion-laced air and feeling the effects of its integration into the enchantment, remained silent. For Ryan, the lack of a sneering comment was the highest form of praise.
A final, towering pillar of fire erupted and then vanished. Ryan turned, a calm smile on his face. "The work is complete, Professors."
Dumbledore was the first to applaud, and the other professors followed suit. Hagrid's applause wasn't so much clapping as it was the booming of a drum.
"Very well done, Ryan. Excellent work." Dumbledore was not stingy with his praise. "Few wizards your age possess such a high degree of skill in so many different fields of magic. Your Charms, Transfiguration, and even your Potions work are all well beyond N.E.W.T. level. If this were an exam, I would give you 'Outstanding' in every subject."
The N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests) were the final exams Hogwarts students could take in their seventh year. The scores determined eligibility for the wizarding world's most elite professions, such as becoming an Auror or a high-ranking member of the Ministry. A student who passed their N.E.W.T.s with high marks was virtually guaranteed a respectable, high-paying career after graduation.
"I was initially concerned that running a club might interfere with your O.W.L.s this year," Dumbledore continued, "but you have successfully convinced me otherwise."
Professor McGonagall, her previous sternness replaced by impressed approval, extended an invitation. "Have you any interest in joining my advanced Transfiguration club, Mr. Welles?"
"Oh, Minerva, Ryan is already a member of my Charms club!" Professor Flitwick piped up, unable to restrain himself.
"The times can be arranged," McGonagall replied coolly. "A little overlap won't hurt." The two professors began to discuss, in low tones, how they could best "share" Ryan's time.
The other professors all voiced their approval. Even Professor Quirrell seemed to marvel that since his own time at Ravenclaw, another genius of this caliber had emerged. The comment made Ryan realize that Quirinus Quirrell had also been a Ravenclaw, perhaps even one of the brightest of his generation.
And yet, Dumbledore's behavior suggested that Quirrell truly was a problem. The Headmaster would never have agreed to the pre-work "afternoon tea" if he hadn't suspected something. It had been a casual attempt to get Quirrell to lower his guard and reveal something of his true intentions. But Quirrell had clung to a false hope, believing Dumbledore was just making small talk, and that to confess would only guarantee a cell in Azkaban.
"In that case, it seems there are no objections to Ryan forming his club," Dumbledore concluded. He turned to Ryan. "You may find a suitably large, empty classroom on the second floor. Oh, and do remember to submit a formal application to Professor McGonagall."
....
Professor McGonagall's Office.
Professor McGonagall was reviewing Ryan's club application.
"The Adventurers' Club?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "Why that name?"
"Because the club's motto is 'Ad Astra et ad Profundum'—'To the Stars and to the Abyss,'" Ryan replied, suppressing a grin. "I originally wanted to call it the Adventurers' Guild, but that felt a bit dramatic."
"'To the Stars and to the Abyss'?" McGonagall repeated, murmuring the words. She couldn't quite wrap her head around the meaning.
"In essence," Ryan explained, "I hope that everyone who joins the club will be inspired to adventure at the very boundaries of magic, to constantly explore the unknown and make it known."
"A noble goal." Professor McGonagall nodded, finally giving her approval. She signed the application form. "The empty classroom at the far east end of the second floor will be yours. Here is the key." She handed the signed form and an old brass key to Ryan.
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall. I'll go get it set up."
Ryan took the items and headed for the second floor. The first thing he did was post the signed permission slip on the door to ward off Filch. Argus Filch was the only member of the staff who harbored a deep and unwavering hostility toward him. Not even the finest imported smoked kippers for Mrs. Norris could lessen the caretaker's animosity.
Ryan knew why. He had once seen it in a piece of intel: Filch at some secret gathering, complaining bitterly with other Squibs about how difficult their lives were. They were stuck in limbo, unwilling to be Muggles after having seen the wonders of magic, but unable to perform it themselves, forever staring at a locked door. This resentment fueled Filch's animosity towards talented young wizards.
Fortunately, the Weasley twins, who had started two years prior, had become excellent lightning rods, drawing most of Filch's attention away from Ryan.
"I did give them a bit of intel once," Ryan mused, thinking of the magical map. "Told them they might find something useful in one of Filch's desk drawers." The magic used to create the Marauder's Map wasn't particularly advanced—mostly just variations of the Revealing Charm and Tracking Spells. What made the map so miraculous was how its creators had managed to integrate it into the very magical fabric of Hogwarts itself, making it a part of the castle's system. That was how it could track nearly every person and thing within the castle grounds in real-time.
"That level of integration is astonishing," he whispered to himself as he waved his wand, beginning to transfigure the dusty classroom. He knew of only two examples of such profound, system-level magic.
One was the Marauder's Map.
And the other was the curse that still coiled, invisibly and unshakably, around the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.