I had come a long way since collapsing at Hogwarts' entrance.
Now, nearly every waking hour was consumed by combat spells. Light, dark, defensive, offensive — I poured over incantations, gestures, and the precise intent behind each one. Every spell had a rhythm, a timing, a nuance that could make the difference between victory and disaster.
Dark magic was my new frontier.
I didn't indulge recklessly. I respected it — feared it, even. But I understood its advantage in the early stages of magical conflict. While light magic could heal, protect, and sustain, a well-placed dark curse could end a fight before it truly began. Sectumsempra, Langlock, and other Snape creations were now etched into my muscle memory. I practiced them endlessly, first on enchanted dummies, then on magical animals under controlled conditions.
I discovered something crucial:
Dark magic escalates quickly. Unrestrained, it overwhelms. But with discipline, combined with light magic and precise intention, it became nearly unstoppable. Every duel I simulated in my mind or practiced in the castle sharpened my reflexes, timing, and strategic thinking.
At the same time, I devoted small but consistent effort to divination.
Flashes of the future, glimpses of possible outcomes — it wasn't always clear, and the visions were often cryptic. But even a fragmentary glimpse could mean the difference between life and death, especially in a world like Middle-earth. I studied patterns, practiced meditation, and learned to read the subtle signs of magical resonance in the environment.
It was slow going, but every small insight added a layer of tactical advantage to my growing arsenal.
I also began blending my knowledge of combat spells, potions, and magical creatures.
Fire-enhancing potions amplified offensive spells. Healing draughts allowed rapid recovery mid-duel. Even the Thestrals and phoenixes became part of my training, responding to spells and teaching me subtle ways to anticipate movement.
Every day, I became faster. Sharper. Deadlier.
Hogwarts was no longer a school.It was a forge.
And I was its master craftsman.
By the time the sun set each night, I could cast offensive, defensive, and dark spells in rapid succession, combining them with potions or animal familiars — a seamless dance of destruction and precision.
I paused once, looking over my training chambers, the glowing cauldrons, the magically growing plants, and the wards humming softly in the walls.
Middle-earth was dangerous. Sauron's shadow loomed far in the future. Dragons, bandits, and armies threatened everything.
But I was ready.
No, not just ready.I was becoming a force the world had never seen.