Over the following weeks, Maurise continued to experiment with finding the perfect, personalized casting methods for his repertoire of spells.
While he had succeeded quite easily with the Wand-Lighting Charm, that was merely the most basic of magical applications. Even with his extraordinary talent, Professor Flitwick had been entirely correct. Modifying spells was a tedious process that required a massive amount of time, patience, and mental energy.
Then came a chilly day in early October.
Just as Maurise finished packing his bag at the end of Potions class, Professor Snape suddenly called out to him.
"Black. My office. Now."
"Yes, Professor," Maurise replied.
Still rubbing dried nettle powder off his fingers, Maurise felt a twinge of confusion. Snape's tone sounded unusually severe. He quickly mentally reviewed his recent actions. He could not think of a single thing he had done to anger the Potions Master.
Maurise swiftly gathered his belongings and followed Snape into his private office. Thanks to the damp autumn weather, the dungeon room felt even colder and more unwelcoming than usual.
"Sit," Snape ordered, pointing a long finger at a hard wooden chair in front of his desk. He walked around the table and pulled a thick book from a nearby shelf.
Maurise obediently sat down, waiting for the impending lecture.
Snape dropped the book onto the desk, crossed his arms, and glared at the boy. "What exactly did you do in front of Professor Dumbledore?" he asked coldly.
"Excuse me?" Maurise blinked in genuine surprise. "What did I do?"
Had he violated some obscure school rule? A brief wave of panic washed over him. Had the Headmaster discovered his secret midnight joyrides on the Forbidden Forest unicorns?
Snape stared intently at Maurise's blank expression for several long seconds before letting out a soft scoff.
"The Patronus Charm," Snape finally enunciated slowly.
Maurise blinked again. "Pardon?"
He had certainly read about the Patronus Charm. It was an incredibly advanced piece of defensive magic. However, why was Snape bringing it up now?
"I am going to teach you this charm," Snape explained, his face a completely unreadable mask. "Ordinarily, this task should fall to your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. However, Dumbledore has assigned the duty to me. He believes it is imperative that you master this specific spell."
Maurise raised an eyebrow. "That is hardly a spell appropriate for a second-year student."
"Dumbledore believes you are capable," Snape dismissed the objection with an impatient wave of his hand. He pushed the book across the desk. "Read this first."
Maurise glanced at the cover. A Guide to the Patronus Charm.
Well, he had no idea why the Headmaster wanted him to learn it, but he was certainly not going to turn down free private tutoring. A spell was just a spell, after all.
He immediately opened the book and began to read. The content was surprisingly brief. Aside from a basic introduction to the spell's mechanics, the vast majority of the text emphasized a single crucial element for casting. Emotion.
The absolute key to this magic was harnessing a powerful, positive emotion. A wizard could only summon a Patronus by recalling a memory of pure, unadulterated happiness.
For Maurise, that requirement was an absolute breeze.
He had always been a naturally cheerful person who found it incredibly easy to feel joy, especially since entering the wondrous magical world. Mastering a new spell, uncovering a fascinating ancient tome, or simply watching a perfectly brewed potion bubble in his cauldron were all sources of profound happiness.
Maurise confidently snapped the book shut, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. "I am ready, Professor."
Snape noted the boy's unwavering confidence and gave a curt nod. "Very well. Watch closely. I will only demonstrate this once."
Maurise leaned forward, intensely curious to watch his Potions professor perform such a notoriously difficult charm.
Snape slowly drew his wand and took a deep, steadying breath.
"Expecto Patronum!"
His voice was low and gravelly. As the incantation left his lips, a thick cloud of silver mist poured from the tip of his wand. The mist was not particularly blinding, but it radiated an undeniable sense of comforting warmth. If Maurise had to describe it, it felt exactly like the gentle rays of the winter morning sun. Not scorching, but deeply, genuinely warm.
Snape lowered his wand, relaxing his grip, and the silver fog instantly dissipated into the shadows of the dungeon.
"Hmm?" Maurise tilted his head. "Is that it, Professor? Where is your actual Patronus?"
"For the purposes of a basic demonstration, that was entirely sufficient," Snape replied stiffly, his lips forming a thin line.
Maurise rubbed his chin thoughtfully. That was hardly a proper demonstration of a corporeal Patronus. He suddenly recalled a specific line from the book he had just read, mentioning how a deep involvement with the Dark Arts could severely hinder the formation of a corporeal Patronus.
A sudden realization hit him. Ah, Professor Snape. You are making excuses.
Snape seemed to read the exact thought crossing the boy's mind. His expression hardened into stone. "Keep your baseless assumptions to yourself, Black. The Patronus Charm is far more complex than you realize. Once you can produce a shield of mist as I just did, we will discuss the next step."
"Of course, sir," Maurise said smoothly. He shrugged, drew his own wand, and gave it a relaxed flick. "Expecto Patronum!"
The incantation rolled off his tongue effortlessly.
Instantly, a brilliant burst of silver light erupted. A thick, luminous mist flooded the office almost immediately, wrapping the cold dungeon in a wave of comforting, joyful warmth.
Snape froze, staring at the silver cloud in absolute shock.
He had never expected the boy to succeed so flawlessly. This was, after all, Maurise's very first attempt at casting one of the most notoriously difficult spells in existence.
Seeing the professor's stunned silence, Maurise smiled brightly. "Could you show me your fully formed Patronus now, Professor Snape?"
In truth, Maurise could have easily condensed his own mist into a corporeal animal right then and there. He had deliberately held back because he was far more interested in seeing Snape's form. It was driven by pure academic curiosity, nothing more.
Snape simply stared at Maurise in deafening silence.
Finally, he raised his wand once more.
"Expecto Patronum."
This time, the incantation was not harsh or gravelly. It carried a strange, almost imperceptible softness.
Gentle? Snape?
In Maurise's mind, those two concepts absolutely did not belong in the same sentence. It was incredibly eerie.
Yet, the spell worked perfectly. The silver mist pouring from Snape's wand did not spread out like before. Instead, it rapidly swirled and condensed into a brilliant, glowing focal point.
The sleek outline of an animal slowly materialized in the air. A magnificent silver doe stepped gracefully out of the light, illuminating the dark office.
"Brilliant, Professor!" Maurise applauded enthusiastically. "Though, I have to admit, I completely expected your Patronus to be a different animal."
Snape's expression remained perfectly blank. "And what animal, Mr. Black, did you assume my Patronus would take the form of?"
Maurise suffered a catastrophic lapse in judgment and blurted out the very first thought in his head.
"A bat."
The moment the words left his mouth, the temperature in the office seemed to plunge below freezing. Even the warming presence of the silver doe could not dispel the sudden, terrifying chill radiating from the Potions Master.
It was a universally known fact among the student body that "Old Bat" was the premier insulting nickname for Severus Snape.
"Er... I was only joking, Professor Snape. Please do not take it to heart," Maurise offered a dry, nervous chuckle.
Snape offered a smile in return, but it was a cold, terrifying baring of teeth.
"You have exactly thirty minutes to produce a corporeal Patronus, Black. If you fail, I will deduct fifty points from your House."