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The weeks following the library incident brought a new rhythm to Darius's days. His confrontation with the Slytherins had earned him a reputation—some admiration from younger students, wariness from older ones, and careful attention from professors who now watched him with more interest than a typical first-year warranted.
It was during Astronomy that he first realized how much the nano machine's knowledge absorption was accelerating his understanding. Professor Sinistra had set them the task of identifying constellation patterns, but while other students squinted through telescopes and fumbled with star charts, Darius found himself seeing connections they missed entirely.
"The constellation Draco," he said during one midnight lesson, "its positioning suggests the optimal time for brewing Draught of Living Death would be during the new moon in October, when Draco's head points directly toward the North Star."
Professor Sinistra paused in her circuit of the Astronomy Tower. "Explain your reasoning, Mr. Kael."
"The dragon constellation has historical associations with transformation magic. The specific stellar alignment during new moon amplifies potion stability, particularly for draughts requiring precision timing." He gestured toward the stars. "Ancient wizards often timed their most complex brewing to celestial events."
[Knowledge synthesis: Astronomy + Potions theory + Historical magical practices. Integration successful.]
"Remarkable," Sinistra murmured. "That's N.E.W.T.-level astronomical applications. How did you make that connection?"
"Just... reading ahead, Professor."
She awarded Ravenclaw ten points, but her thoughtful expression suggested she suspected there was more to it.
Flying lessons proved to be Darius's greatest challenge. While the nano machine could analyze the aerodynamics of broomstick flight and map optimal positioning, it couldn't overcome his complete lack of experience with three-dimensional movement.
"Up!" commanded Madam Hooch to the first-year class assembled on the grass.
Around him, brooms rose to varying degrees of success. Emma's shot up immediately, while Thomas's merely rolled over. Sarah's lifted halfway then wavered uncertainly.
Darius's broom didn't move.
"Intent, Mr. Kael!" Hooch called. "You must command it with confidence!"
[Analysis: Magical resonance required. Broomstick responding to emotional certainty rather than logical instruction.]
He tried again, this time not thinking about aerodynamics but simply demanding the broom obey. It jumped into his hand with enough force to bruise his palm.
The actual flying was worse. While other students wobbled but generally stayed airborne, Darius found himself fighting the broom's every movement. It bucked like an angry horse, trying to throw him off whenever he attempted to steer.
"You're thinking too much," Emma called from nearby, executing a smooth turn that showed natural talent. "Just feel where you want to go!"
But the nano machine kept analyzing wind patterns and thrust vectors, creating a feedback loop of conflicting input. By the end of the lesson, Darius had managed basic hovering but little else.
[Assessment: Flying proficiency significantly below average. Recommend extensive private practice.]
It was humbling. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, he'd encountered something that raw knowledge couldn't overcome.
History of Magic with Professor Binns was mind-numbingly boring, but it provided perfect cover for the nano machine to scan additional library books Darius smuggled into class. While Binns droned about goblin rebellions in a monotone that could put a troll to sleep, Darius appeared to take notes while actually scanning "Advanced Potion-Making" page by page.
[Scanning complete: "Subtle Art of Ingredient Substitution" - Page 134 of 287. Notable discovery: Lacewing flies can be replaced with powdered moonstone for identical results in most transformation potions.]
The information was fascinating, but he needed practical application opportunities. Potions class with Professor Snape remained his most dangerous challenge.
"Today we will be brewing a simple Sleeping Draught," Snape announced to the dungeon classroom, his voice cutting through the humid air like a blade. "The ingredients are listed on the board. You have one hour. Begin."
Darius studied the recipe carefully. Standard ingredients: lavender, valerian root, crocodile heart, and hellebore essence. But the nano machine's newly acquired knowledge suggested several improvements.
[Analysis: Standard recipe efficiency 67%. Suggested modifications: Replace crocodile heart with dried billywig stings (increased potency, smoother onset). Adjust hellebore ratio for better stability.]
He decided to risk it.
Working carefully, he made the substitutions, using techniques the nano machine had learned from advanced texts. His movements were precise, his timing perfect, and his magical energy flowed into the potion with controlled intent.
The result was a draught that shimmered with an opalescent quality none of the standard recipes possessed.
Snape prowled between the cauldrons like a hunting predator, his dark eyes missing nothing. When he reached Darius's station, he paused.
"What is this, Kael?" His voice was dangerously soft.
"Sleeping Draught, sir."
"This is not the color indicated by the standard recipe."
Darius's mouth went dry, but he forced himself to meet Snape's gaze. "I made some minor adjustments to improve potency, Professor."
The entire class went silent. Several students edged away from Darius's cauldron as if it might explode.
Snape's eyes narrowed to slits. "You presume to improve upon established methodology? A first-year who has barely learned to hold a ladle properly?"
"The substitutions are documented in advanced texts, sir. Billywig stings instead of crocodile heart, adjusted hellebore ratios for—"
"Silence." Snape leaned closer, his presence looming and intimidating. "You will demonstrate your 'improvement' immediately. Drink it."
The classroom was dead quiet. Darius felt sweat bead on his forehead, but the nano machine's analysis remained confident.
[Potion composition verified safe. Sleeping effect: Enhanced but non-harmful. Recommend compliance.]
"Yes, sir."
He ladled a small amount into a goblet and drank it. The potion tasted of lavender and honey, far more pleasant than the bitter standard recipe. Within moments, a gentle drowsiness began to settle over him, but not the sudden unconsciousness that inferior Sleeping Draughts often caused.
Snape watched him intently for several minutes. Darius remained upright but visibly relaxed, his eyes heavy but alert.
"The effect?" Snape demanded.
"Gradual onset, more natural sleep pattern, no bitter aftertaste," Darius reported, his words slightly slurred but clear.
After fifteen minutes, the effect began to fade naturally. Snape continued staring at him with an unreadable expression.
"Your modifications," he said finally, "while technically sound, were performed without permission and could have resulted in serious injury had you made an error. Five points from Ravenclaw for reckless experimentation."
The class exhaled collectively.
"However," Snape continued, and Darius detected the faintest hint of approval in his voice, "the theoretical knowledge required to make such substitutions indicates... adequate preparation. The potion itself is superior to the standard recipe. Five points to Ravenclaw for exceptional brewing."
Net zero points, but the brief flash of something that wasn't quite hostility in Snape's eyes told Darius he'd passed some kind of test.
After class, Snape called him back. "Where did you encounter the substitution techniques?"
"Advanced reading, sir. I've been studying potion theory extensively."
Snape studied him for a long moment. "Few students possess the theoretical foundation to understand such modifications, let alone execute them successfully. Continue your studies, but do not experiment with modifications in my classroom without explicit permission. The next time you wish to deviate from established procedures, consult me first."
"Yes, Professor."
It wasn't friendship, but it wasn't hostility either. For Snape, that was practically an endorsement.
Charms class brought its own revelations. Professor Flitwick had assigned them the Severing Charm, a second-year spell he was introducing early to gauge their progress.
"Diffindo!" Flitwick demonstrated, neatly cutting a piece of parchment in half. "Remember, precise wand movement and clear intent. We're cutting, not destroying."
Most students struggled with the spell's finesse. Sarah managed to tear her parchment roughly. A Hufflepuff boy produced a jagged cut. Cho Chang accidentally set her parchment on fire, though she quickly extinguished it with an embarrassed smile.
When Darius's turn came, he cast the spell with practiced ease—too practiced for a student supposedly learning it for the first time.
"Diffindo," he said, and his parchment split with surgical precision.
Flitwick's eyebrows rose. "Excellent work, Mr. Kael. Though I must ask—have you encountered this spell before?"
"Not exactly, Professor." Darius hesitated. This was the moment he'd been preparing for. "I've been experimenting with spell modifications in my spare time. Combining basic charms to create new effects."
The tiny professor went very still. "Spell modifications? Show me."
Darius drew his wand and pointed it at a fresh piece of parchment. "Protego Lumos," he said clearly.
Light blazed around the parchment as a protective barrier formed. Several students gasped at the unusual effect.
Flitwick stared for several seconds, then banished the spell with a flick of his wand. "Office. Now. Class dismissed early today."
In Flitwick's office, surrounded by books and magical artifacts, the professor's demeanor was serious in a way Darius had never seen.
"Spell creation is not a game, Mr. Kael," Flitwick began sternly. "It is one of the most dangerous branches of magic. Hundreds of wizards have died from magical backlash attempting what you just demonstrated."
"I understand the risks, Professor—"
"Do you?" Flitwick's voice was sharp. "Do you understand that a single miscalculation could have left you a gibbering wreck in St. Mungo's? That combining incompatible magical frameworks can tear apart your magical core?"
Darius remained silent, sensing the professor needed to speak.
"That said," Flitwick continued, his tone softening slightly, "what you've accomplished is remarkable. I haven't seen spell innovation of this quality since my own research days. The theoretical knowledge required, the practical execution..." He shook his head. "It should be impossible for a first-year."
"I study extensively, Professor. I have good instincts for magical theory."
"Instincts." Flitwick repeated the word thoughtfully. "Perhaps. Show me another."
Darius demonstrated his Sticking Charm-illusion combination, creating objects that appeared normal but were invisibly secured in place. Then his floor-treachery spell, which made surfaces unreliable without visible change.
With each demonstration, Flitwick's expression grew more amazed and more concerned.
"Brilliant," he admitted finally. "Absolutely brilliant. But also incredibly dangerous. You're working at a level that would challenge N.E.W.T. students, possibly even graduate researchers."
He moved to his desk and withdrew a small, leather-bound journal. "If you insist on continuing this research—and I suspect nothing I say will dissuade you—then you will do it properly. Document everything. Test in controlled conditions. Never attempt combinations involving curses or hexes without supervision."
He handed Darius the journal. "This contains basic principles of spell creation, safety protocols, and documentation methods. Study it thoroughly before attempting any new modifications."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Don't thank me yet," Flitwick warned. "Spell creation has consumed more promising young wizards than any Dark Art. Promise me you'll be careful."
"I promise."
As Darius left the office, he felt the weight of Flitwick's expectations and fears. But he also felt validation—a master of Charms had acknowledged his ability, had taken him seriously enough to provide guidance rather than simply forbid his research.
[Assessment: Faculty relations improving. Snape: Grudging respect achieved. Flitwick: Mentorship established. Recommend continued careful progress.]
Herbology with Professor Sprout proved surprisingly useful for potion ingredients knowledge, while Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Merrythought continued to be the most practical class for combat preparation. Transfiguration remained challenging but rewarding as McGonagall pushed them through increasingly complex transformations.
By mid-November, Darius had established himself as one of the most capable students in their year. His grades were exceptional, his spell work advanced, and his theoretical knowledge approaching that of older students.
But more importantly, he was building the foundation for what was coming. Every spell mastered, every technique learned, every professor's respect earned was another tool for the trials ahead.
That evening, sitting in the Ravenclaw common room with the fire crackling and his friends studying nearby, Darius opened Flitwick's journal and began reading about the theoretical frameworks underlying spell creation. Marcus Belby, a fellow first-year with an interest in magical theory, noticed the journal and leaned over with curiosity.
"What's that you're reading, Kael?"
"Spell creation principles. Professor Flitwick lent it to me."
Marcus's eyes widened. "Flitwick gave you his research journal? That's... that's incredible. He must really trust your ability."
"Or he's worried I'll blow myself up without proper guidance," Darius replied with a slight smile.
A second-year Ravenclaw, Roger Davies, looked up from his Astronomy homework. "Either way, impressive. Most professors wouldn't trust a first-year with advanced magical theory like that."
The future was still dangerous, still uncertain. But he was no longer the powerless boy who'd arrived at Hogwarts. He was becoming something else—a student, a researcher, a wizard capable of innovation and growth.
[Personal log: Academic integration successful. Faculty mentorship secured. Magical development accelerating. Ready to advance to intermediate challenges.]