Alister lost himself in the study of runes. The hours melted away, a silent passage of time marked only by the turning of pages. He didn't notice the library emptying, or the afternoon sun giving way to the twilight gloom. He only looked up when a low, rumbling sensation of hunger reminded him that his body still had basic needs.
He left the library and made his way to the Great Hall, which was now filled with the low hum of dinner. The hall was a symphony of sounds: the clatter of silverware, the murmur of conversation, the roar of laughter from the Gryffindor table.
He walked through the hall, his gaze fixed on the Slytherin table. He saw Theodore Nott and the other students from his common room, a sea of green and silver. But he didn't stop. He continued to walk, his steps measured and confident, past his own table and toward the Ravenclaw table.
The hall fell into a low, quiet murmur. Heads turned. Eyes, filled with shock, confusion, and a hint of contempt, followed his every step. A Slytherin, was walking past his own house to sit with the Ravenclaws. It was a social transgression, a violation of the unspoken rules of the castle. But Alister, a man who had faced death and has the power, completely looks down on these irrelevant rules set by others.
He reached the Ravenclaw table and sat down in the empty seat next to Cho, his mind still a quiet, analytical engine processing the runes he had just read. Cho looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Alister! What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice a hushed murmur.
He didn't answer. He simply began to eat, his gaze fixed on his food, completely ignoring the gazes and whispers that followed him.
Alister ate in silence, the hurried whispers and curious gazes of the students and professors washing over him like a distant tide. He finished his meal, a quiet, deliberate act, and then stood up. The scraping of his chair against the stone floor seemed to echo in the sudden hush that had fallen over the Great Hall.
He walked past the Slytherin table, his own housemates' faces a mixture of confusion and contempt.
He walked past the other tables, past the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who were simply bewildered, and past the Ravenclaws who were still whispering among themselves.
As long as his magic, his true power, was still a secret he would not care about situations. He just needs to become stronger fast so that he doesn't even have to deliberately hide his magic talent.
Alister returned to the Slytherin common room, the echoes of the feast still a faint hum in his ears. He entered his dorm, a spartan chamber with two beds and a single window looking out onto the bottom of the lake. He walked to his desk and pulled out the book on runes, his mind, returning to his work.
Time passed. The glow of the runes on the page was his only light. He was absorbing the information, the symbols, and the intricate theories of their application.
He only looked up when a sudden, loud creak from the bed next to him reminded him that he was not alone. Theodore was asleep, his breathing a slow, even rhythm. Alister packed his things with a quiet haste. Now was the time to explore. He had to find a private space, a place to conduct his research and experiments without prying eyes.
He walked out of the dorm. He passed Theodore, who was still asleep, a peaceful look on his face. He walked through the common room and out into the empty corridors. The castle at night was a different beast, a silent, vast, and echoing labyrinth.
He raised a hand and, with a simple act of will, cast a spell he had learned from a book in the library.
His body seemed to shimmer, and then he was gone. The spell, a simple invisibility charm.He continued his walk, his steps silent and precise.
He walked past a squib who was patrolling with his cat. The cat's eyes, he noticed, were glowing faintly in the dark, and its ears were twitching.
He continued his search for an abandoned room.
He walked for a long time, exploring the empty corridors and the deserted classrooms. The castle was simply too big to be used. Many of its rooms were empty, abandoned, and forgotten by time. He finally found one, a small, dusty chamber that seemed to have been forgotten.
The air was thick with dust and the smell of old wood. He walked in and, with a wave of his hand, made a few things float and, with another wave of his hand, cleaned the room with simply a wave of his hand. The dust and the cobwebs, the debris and the dirt, all swirled into a single, compact ball and vanished, a perfect, flawless act of magic. The room was clean, a blank canvas for his work.
Alister took out the things he had acquired on his shopping trip. From his expandable pocket, he pulled out a small, worn bag filled with gold and a few pieces of plain, untreated wood. The wood was simple, but for what he was about to do, it was all he needed. He also took out his books, a tome on runes and an old, leather-bound volume on magical theory. He laid them on the floor, the pages of his books a perfect, silent guide.
He sat down on the floor, his back against the cold, damp stone wall. He held a small piece of wood in his hand, a blank canvas for his work. He had learned the runes, he had memorized them, but now he had to make them a part of him, a part of his magic. He had to make them a physical, tangible force.
The magical energy within him, under his control, obeyed. It moved through his body, down his arm, and to his hand. The wood in his hand began to glow with a faint, white light.
He began to carve. The runes he had learned were simple, but their application was complex. He began with Fehu, the rune of wealth and power, its simple, two-lined form a testament to its meaning. He didn't need a carving tool. The magic flowed from his fingertips, a razor-thin beam of light that carved the rune into the wood with a perfect, clean precision. The wood did not splinter or crack.
He moved on to the next rune, Algiz, the rune of protection. Its intricate, trident-like form was a test of his control, but his hands, were a perfect reflection of his will. The rune was a perfect, flawless reflection of its meaning. He worked for hours, his mind, processing the runes, their meanings, and their applications. He was not just carving; he was learning a language.
He only looked up when a faint chime from the castle's bell tower told him it was midnight. He had been working for hours, and the floor around him was littered with wood pieces, each one a perfect, flawless rune.
Alister gathered his belongings, a few books, and the carved wood pieces on the floor of the abandoned room whose faint, magical glow was the only light in the darkness. He walked out of the room.
He made his way back to the Slytherin common room. Theodore Nott was still asleep peacefully. Alister walked to his bed and fell asleep with the feeling of satisfaction for the progress he made today.
The next day, Alister had only one class. It was Charms, and it was held in a bright, airy classroom on the fourth floor. The room was a stark contrast to the cold, damp dungeons of the day before. The walls were lined with shelves filled with strange objects, and a gentle light from the windows bathed the room in a soft, golden glow.
Alister took a seat in the back of the classroom, his gaze fixed on the teacher. He was a short, diminutive man with a kind, friendly face, and he was standing on a stack of books, his tiny body a silhouette against the light. This was Professor Flitwick.
"Welcome, class!" Professor Flitwick said, his voice a high, squeaky sound. "Today, we will be learning a very simple charm, a charm that will be the foundation for all your future spells. The Levitation Charm, or Wingardium Leviosa."
He demonstrated the charm, his wand a blur of motion as he chanted the incantation. A small feather on his desk began to float in the air, a silent, graceful dance.
Soon, Professor Flitwick gave feather to each student.
Alister simply took out his wand, a simple, elegant piece of wood, and pointed it at the feather on his desk. He chanted the incantation, his voice a low murmur, and flicked his hand. The feather on his desk began to float in the air, a silent, graceful dance.
Professor Flitwick looked from the floating feather to Alister, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "A perfect casting, Mr. Potter! Five points to Slytherin."
The rest of the class, however, was not so surprised anymore and continued to do their task after a look.
As Alister had completed the task in a matter of seconds, and now, with the rest of the hour to spare, his mind turned to his own, deeper purpose.
His gaze drifted from his own feather to the other students. He watched as they struggled, their faces a mixture of concentration and frustration, their wands twitching and their incantations whispered with varying degrees of confidence. He saw a boy's feather fly a few inches before crashing back down. He saw a girl's feather simply refuse to move.
But as he watched, he noticed something else. Something he had seen before in the Potion's classroom but had dismissed it as a simple side effect of magical exertion. This time, however, he saw it with a newfound clarity. He could see the magic, a faint, golden light, flowing from surrounding into their bodies.
For everyone around him, the magic, was being attracted to them and was flowing into their body as they practiced. He looked at Cho, who was still struggling with her feather, her face a mixture of concentration and frustration. The magic, a faint, golden current, was flowing into her body and was getting absorbed thereby increasing her magic power, but it was just a tiny, insignificant trickle. The rest, a vast, swirling sea of power, was just escaping from her body.
He then looked at the other students. He could see the same thing happening to them. He had noticed this phenomenon happening with himself, but he had dismissed it as a simple limitation of his body. But now, he saw that it was not a personal flaw, but a flaw in the entire magical system.
The bell for the end of class rang, a loud, clear sound that snapped Alister out of his deep thought. He looked up, his gaze unfocused, and saw that the classroom was empty. Cho was standing beside him, a concerned look on her face.
"Are you okay, Alister?" she whispered, her voice a hushed murmur. "You were completely zoned out."
Alister nodded, a faint smile on his face. "I'm fine. Just... a lot to think about."
He walked out of the classroom. The rest of the day was a blur of motion. He had lunch, but he barely tasted it. He walked through the castle, but he barely saw it. His mind was elsewhere, in a world of leaking magic, wasted energy, and a flaw in the very foundation of the wizarding world.
He spent the rest of the day in the library. He poured over the books on magical theory. He processed every word, every diagram, every theory. He found nothing. There was no mention of magical leakage, no mention of wasted energy, no mention of the problem he had just discovered. It was as if no one had ever noticed it, or perhaps, the knowledge had been lost.
As the sun set, he made his way to the abandoned room he had found, his mind full of ideas. He took out his books on runes and his pieces of wood, his mind processing the intricate language. He worked for hours, his hands a perfect reflection of his will, his movements a symphony of precision.