Chapter 82: Dark Arts Talent
"Then why must we study the Dark Arts with such caution?"
Professor Flitwick stood on the oak desk, waiting. He knew this Ravenclaw he favoured would say something different.
He had heard all the usual answers a thousand times: that Dark magic was destructive, hard to control, and so on.
"Dark magic is generally thought to have an irreversible corrosive effect on the caster. That is one of the reasons it is called 'dark' in the first place."
Shawn was very familiar with the Dark Arts, thanks to how deeply they were explored in the original accounts
Dumbledore had made it plain: work in Dark magic that involved murder damaged the soul. He had told Snape that Draco Malfoy's soul had "not yet been so grievously harmed," which implied Draco had probably never killed. If he did, his soul would be "ripped apart."
That meant using extremely dark spells, such as the Killing Curse, harmed the caster's soul. Creating a Horcrux went still further: it meant literally splitting the soul in pursuit of the unnatural goal of immortality.
"Secondly, just as every spell requires a clear intent to be cast correctly, powerful Dark magic needs malicious intent to work at all," Shawn added. That point had left a deep mark on him.
If a wizard wanted to wield Dark magic, they had to summon "pure malice." For a young wizard with so little life behind them, that kind of malice left a deep scar.
"An incredible answer," Professor Flitwick burst out, practically bouncing.
"Remember this, Mr Green. The Dark Arts are endlessly varied and ever‑changing. To struggle against them is like wrestling a many‑headed monster. Cut off one head and another grows in its place, fiercer and more cunning than the last. We are facing something protean and indestructible. However..."
He shifted tack.
"Dark magic is like a blade. In evil hands, it is put to filthy use, but it is tied to the user's purpose. Flipendo!"
His wand snapped down. The squirrel that had just climbed in through the window went flying out again.
Yet it was hardly harmed, caught and lowered by an unspoken Levitation Charm.
"Flipendo!"
The professor cast again. This time, the stack of books in front of him was not so lucky: it shot backwards, slammed into the wall, and crashed to the floor.
Shawn watched, thinking it through.
In the end, Dark magic was cast by wizards. It remained bound to the caster and the caster's aims. In that last memory, Dumbledore had said that Snape's killing him to spare an old man pain and humiliation would not damage Snape's soul. It was like a knife used in a robbery and a knife used to fight off a mugger. Both could hurt, but they were not the same thing.
"Did you see, Mr Green?"
It had been years since Flitwick had taught someone this bright and hungry for knowledge. He valued that mix of intelligence and effort, and he was all the more gentle and patient because of it.
"Yes, Professor."
Shawn raised his wand, focused and a little expectant. A wizard's raw gift for magic showed most clearly the first time they touched a new spell.
Out of caution, Flitwick kept his own wand ready. Young wizards did not always know their strength; that was precisely why a professor had to be present.
"Flipendo!"
A surge of magic erupted from Shawn's wand tip. In an instant, it swept through the entire classroom. Desks, chairs, kettles, and even the squirrel that had just scrambled back in, all were blasted away from Shawn as the centre.
Flitwick had not anticipated it and was knocked into the ceiling again. This time, he managed to catch himself at once with a nonverbal spell.
Shawn stood stunned. Inspiration leapt in his mind like a sprite. He flicked his wand again and, without being shown, cast Flipendo along the opposite path, filling himself with the urge to push the flying objects back where they belonged.
And they did.
[You practised the Knockback Jinx once at Expert standard, Proficiency +50]
[You practised the Knockback Jinx once at Expert standard, Proficiency +50]
[A new title in the Dark Arts domain has been unlocked. Please check.]
[A new wizard talent has been unlocked. Please check.]
This is bad. I really am a Dark Arts prodigy.
That was Shawn's first thought.
Worse still, Professor Flitwick had just been sent flying.
That was the second.
"Astounding talent," Flitwick cried. There was no blame in him at all. He darted down from the air with a flourish of his wand and came to stand before Shawn, scarcely containing himself.
"Quite astonishing... quite unbelievable..."
He paced the floor, his high voice trembling. Whether from joy or shock, it was hard to tell.
Shawn took the chance to open the panel.
[Title: Dark Arts Apostle]
[Slightly increases sensitivity to Dark magic. Slightly improves Dark Arts talent.]
As expected. He held his breath and looked further down.
[Wizard: Shawn Green. Dark Arts aptitude: Gold (enhanced by Dark Arts Apostle title). Note: ordinary wizards are Green.]
[Assessment: You are a once‑in‑an‑age genius in the Dark Arts. Dark magic will reach for you of its own accord. You are a born king of the Dark Arts.]
King of the Dark Arts?
Was that not just another way of saying Dark Lord?
Shawn stared.
This was libel. Pure and simple libel.
...
Friday.
Shawn had met all the conditions for the scholarship. Herbology, Potions, Astronomy, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration – in a single month, he had mastered nearly everything a first‑year was meant to learn.
In Transfiguration and Charms, he had gone far beyond that, on a par with some upper‑year students.
As for History... his notes for Professor Binns's class were apparently circulating so widely that even alumni had got hold of them.
Shawn had no idea how Hogwarts graduates had found out about them, nor what they were using them for.
Today, he stood outside the Headmaster's office, anxious and hopeful, waiting for the day's great event: the awarding of the scholarship.
From the moment the term began, he had worked towards this. Focus and love for magic had filled almost every part of his time at Hogwarts.
Inside the spacious, beautiful circular office, gleaming silver instruments littered every surface, and the blackened kettle burbled on as always.
"Ah, Minerva. Do you think Mr Green will receive the scholarship?" Albus Dumbledore asked from behind his wide oak desk. His half‑moon spectacles had slid halfway down his crooked nose. His blue eyes peered over the top of the lenses at the sunset beyond the window.
As if idly, he drew one letter out from the neat pile on the desk.
To the Hogwarts Scholarship Committee,
I write with the utmost seriousness to recommend, as strongly as it is possible to recommend, that Mr Shawn Green be awarded this special scholarship.
Mr Green is, in both talent and character, the most outstanding student I have seen in many years of teaching. Not only has he mastered all core subjects with top marks, but the precision of his practical spellwork and the gifts he has shown in Transfiguration far outstrip the usual standard for a lower‑year student. More precious still, this young gentleman, relying on no one but himself, has displayed a resilience, discipline and kindness beyond his age. The light of his character, his abilities, and his effort can no longer be hidden by his modest manner.
He is fully worthy of this support, and he has the potential to become a source of pride for Hogwarts.
— Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Head of Gryffindor House