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Sorry, guys! đ I've been busy, but as an apology I'll drop two extra chapters today đđ„
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The letter arrived with the morning post three days after Darius's meeting with Dumbledore. A magnificent tawny owl swept into the Great Hall, bypassing the usual crowd of student mail to land directly in front of him at the Ravenclaw table.
"That's not Hogwarts post," Sarah observed, eyeing the thick parchment envelope sealed with an official-looking wax stamp.
Darius broke the seal carefully. The letterhead read "Potions Quarterly - Official Publication of the International Potions Masters Guild," and the contents made his heart race.
Mr. D. Kael, We have received an inquiry from Professor A. Dumbledore regarding your innovative modifications to standard potion recipes. If you would be interested in submitting your work for peer review and potential publication, please respond at your earliest convenience. We understand you are quite young, but exceptional talent knows no age restrictions. Cordially, Madam Zelda Clearwater, Editor
"Well?" Emma demanded from across the table, having abandoned her breakfast entirely. "What is it?"
"Potions Quarterly wants to review my work for publication," Darius said, still staring at the letter in disbelief.
The reaction was immediate. Several older Ravenclaw students looked up from their own breakfasts, and he caught snippets of whispered conversations starting at neighboring tables.
"That's incredible!" Thomas exclaimed. "A first-year getting published in a professional journal? That's got to be a record!"
"It's not published yet," Darius cautioned, though privately the nano machine was already cataloging the implications.
[Analysis: Publication opportunity verified. Academic recognition accelerating beyond projections. Recommend careful management of increased attention.]
Professor Snape found him after Potions class that afternoon. "Kael. Remain behind."
The dungeon emptied quickly, leaving Darius alone with the intimidating Potions Master. Snape moved to his desk and withdrew a stack of parchment.
"I assume you received correspondence from Potions Quarterly?"
"Yes, sir. This morning."
"Then we begin immediately. Academic publication requires rigorous documentationâsomething your generation seems incapable of understanding." Snape's voice carried its usual disdain, but Darius detected an undercurrent of something else. Interest, perhaps. Or professional pride.
"Your modifications to the Sleeping Draught were competent, but the theoretical framework underlying your choices must be thoroughly explained. You will document not just what you changed, but why each substitution was selected, how the magical interactions were calculated, and what testing methodology you employed."
Darius nodded. "I understand, Professor."
"Do you?" Snape's dark eyes fixed on him intently. "Publication in Potions Quarterly means scrutiny from masters across Europe. Every claim will be challenged, every methodology questioned. If your work cannot withstand such examination, it will be rejectedâand your reputation destroyed before it properly begins."
The professor placed the parchment stack before Darius. "These are the journal's formatting requirements and submission guidelines. Study them thoroughly. We will meet twice weekly to review your progress. I expect your first draft by December first."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, Professor."
Snape paused at his desk, his expression unreadable. "Your theoretical knowledge is unusual for a first-year, Kael. But knowledge without proper application is worthless. This collaboration will determine whether you possess genuine understanding or merely impressive memorization."
As Darius left the dungeon, he couldn't shake the feeling that Snape's involvement went beyond simple mentorship. The professor seemed almost... invested in his success.
Word of the publication opportunity spread through the school with the efficiency of wildfire. By dinner, students from all four houses were stealing glances at the Ravenclaw table, and the whispered conversations had grown bold enough to be audible.
"First-year getting published in Potions Quarterly..."
"My brother's a seventh-year and he's never even read that journal..."
"Heard he beat three Slytherins in a duel last month..."
Emma leaned across the table with a concerned expression. "How are you handling all this attention?"
"It's... intense," Darius admitted. The nano machine helped him maintain composure, but the constant scrutiny was wearing. "I just want to focus on the work."
"Might be difficult," Rowan said quietly from beside him. The younger Hufflepuff had been more confident since the library incident, but still spoke softly in crowds. "Some of the older students aren't happy about a first-year getting this kind of recognition."
"What do you mean?"
"Marcus Flint was telling people you're probably cheating somehow. Using dark artifacts or getting illegal help." Rowan's voice dropped even lower. "He said no mudblood could possiblyâ"
"That's enough," Sarah interrupted sharply. "Flint's jealous because he can barely brew a decent Pepper-Up Potion. Ignore him."
But Darius filed the information away. Marcus Flint and his friends were already hostileâadding jealousy to the mix could create problems.
[Threat assessment: Social complications increasing. Recommend maintaining low profile while advancing academically.]
The following morning brought another surprise. Professor Flitwick intercepted him after Charms class, his usual cheerful demeanor more serious than usual.
"Mr. Kael, might I have a word?"
In his office, surrounded by the familiar chaos of spell-crafting materials, Flitwick gestured for Darius to sit.
"I understand congratulations are in order regarding Potions Quarterly. Quite an achievement for someone your age."
"Thank you, Professor."
"However," Flitwick continued, his tone growing cautious, "I must address your spell modification work. Several colleagues have expressed... concerns about the advanced nature of your experimentation."
Darius felt his stomach tighten. "Have I done something wrong, sir?"
"Not wrong, precisely. But perhaps premature." Flitwick moved to his desk and retrieved the journal he'd given Darius weeks earlier. "Have you been following the safety protocols outlined in this text?"
"Yes, sir. Every modification has been tested extensively before use."
"In controlled environments? With proper containment charms? Following documented procedures?"
Darius hesitated. Most of his experimentation had been in his dormitory after hours, using the nano machine's virtual training center for initial testing before attempting real-world applications.
"I... may have been less rigorous than ideal, Professor."
Flitwick sighed. "As I suspected. Mr. Kael, your talent is exceptionalâpossibly unprecedented for someone your age. But talent without proper guidance can be catastrophic."
The tiny professor stood and began pacing, his expression troubled. "I've spoken with Professor Dumbledore about providing you with more formal instruction in spell creation. Advanced techniques, proper safety measures, access to specialized equipment."
"You want to give me extra lessons?"
"I want to keep you alive," Flitwick said bluntly. "And I want to nurture your gift properly. Spell creation is my specialtyâit has been for over forty years. If you're determined to pursue this path, you'll do it correctly."
He returned to his desk and pulled out a schedule. "Beginning next week, we'll meet every Tuesday and Friday evening. Two hours each session. I'll teach you proper methodology, safety protocols, and theoretical frameworks that should have taken you years to discover on your own."
Darius felt a surge of excitement mixed with gratitude. "Thank you, Professor. I... this means everything to me."
"Don't thank me yet," Flitwick warned with a slight smile. "My instruction will be considerably more demanding than your current self-directed study. I expect dedication, precision, and absolute adherence to safety protocols."
"You'll have it, sir."
As Darius left Flitwick's office, he reflected on how quickly things were changing. Two months ago, he'd been a relatively unknown first-year. Now he was collaborating with Snape on professional publication, receiving advanced instruction from Flitwick, and drawing attention from across the school.
[Status update: Academic advancement accelerating. Faculty mentorship expanding. Social complications increasing. Overall trajectory: Positive but complex.]
The first session with Professor Snape proved as demanding as promised. They met in a smaller laboratory adjacent to the main Potions classroom, surrounded by advanced equipment Darius had only read about in textbooks.
"Sit," Snape commanded, gesturing to a chair across from his desk. "We begin with theoretical foundations. Explain the magical interaction between billywig stings and hellebore essence in your modified Sleeping Draught."
For the next hour, Snape subjected Darius to the most rigorous academic interrogation he'd ever experienced. Every claim was challenged, every assumption questioned, every theoretical connection dissected with surgical precision.
"Your substitution ratios," Snape said, making notes on a long piece of parchment, "show intuitive understanding of magical compatibility, but your explanation of why they work lacks mathematical precision. Potion brewing is not guess-work, Kael. It is applied magical chemistry."
"Yes, sir. I understand."
"Do you?" Snape fixed him with that penetrating stare. "Then explain the thermodynamic principles governing magical essence extraction."
Darius drew upon the nano machine's knowledge synthesis, combining information from multiple advanced texts to provide a comprehensive answer. Snape listened without interruption, his expression unreadable.
"Adequate," he concluded finally. "Though your knowledge appears to come from diverse sources rather than systematic study. We will address these gaps methodically."
By the end of the session, Darius felt mentally exhausted but exhilarated. Snape's instruction was harsh but thoroughâexactly what he needed to transform intuitive understanding into rigorous expertise.
"Your next assignment," Snape said as they concluded, "is to document three alternative modification pathways for the Sleeping Draught, complete with theoretical justification and predicted outcomes. I want mathematical calculations, not creative speculation."
"Yes, Professor."
As Darius gathered his materials, Snape spoke again, his voice slightly less harsh than usual. "Your work shows promise, Kael. Do not disappoint me."
The evening meal in the Great Hall had become a trial of endurance. Despite his friends' efforts to maintain normal conversation, Darius was constantly aware of students from other tables watching him. Some with curiosity, others with resentment, a few with something approaching awe.
"You know," Caleb Wren, a tall sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect, said during dessert, "my friend who graduated three years ago said the youngest person ever published in Potions Quarterly was a sixth-year from Durmstrang. If you actually get acceptedâŠ"
"When he gets accepted," Sarah corrected firmly.
"Right, when you get accepted, you'll be making history."
Darius pushed his treacle tart around his plate, appetite diminished by the pressure. "It's just one article. And it hasn't been accepted yet."
"Still," Emma said with her characteristic enthusiasm, "it's brilliant. You're showing everyone that Muggle-borns can be just as capable as anyone else."
The comment was well-intentioned, but it highlighted something Darius had been trying not to think about. His rapid advancement wasn't just personal achievementâit was being interpreted as representation. Success or failure wouldn't just affect him; it would reflect on every Muggle-born student who came after.
[Psychological pressure assessment: Significantly elevated. Recommend stress management protocols.]
That night, lying in his dormitory bed while his roommates slept, Darius stared at the ceiling and contemplated the path he'd chosen. The knowledge of future events that drove his intense study carried a weight beyond academic achievement. Harry Potter would arrive next year, and with him would come dangers that most students couldn't imagine.
Every spell mastered, every professor's respect earned, every milestone achieved was preparation for trials that hadn't yet begun. But the preparation itself was becoming a challengeâmanaging expectations, handling jealousy, maintaining friendships while advancing far beyond his peers.
The nano machine offered analysis and suggestions, but some aspects of this journey required purely human resilience. Tomorrow would bring more scrutiny, more pressure, more opportunities to prove himself worthy of the faith others were placing in him.
But it would also bring more knowledge, more skill, and more preparation for the darkness he knew was coming.
Darius closed his eyes and began mentally reviewing the theoretical frameworks Professor Snape had outlined. Sleep could waitâthere was too much work to do, and too little time to do it.
The future was counting on him to be ready.