8. Routine and Classes (I) (Patreon)

Highlands, Hogwarts

01-09-1969

Perteus Graymort:

The first thing I noticed was the scent—clean linen, faint cedar, and a trace of something herbal, like crushed mint.

My eyes snapped open, greeted by a soft light that bathed the room in a radiance of morning, though there were no windows to explain the bleed of the luminescence. The canopy above me stretched high, carved from a type of wood I was ill-suited to guess, framing the modest bed I lay on.

I pushed myself up on my elbows, feeling the silk-soft fabric slide against the thin-cloth of my pyjamas, and took in the room as the drowse of last noon blinded me to much.

…the dwelling was small but undeniably charming, clean and opulent, with a trace of finesse removed from the flair of olden splendour. To the left of the room, a fine study desk of pure wood sat with a single chair tucked neatly beneath it. And on the far side, a luxurious sofa fitted for two promised more than comfort.

A tall wardrobe rested against the opposite wall, its silver handle catching the light just enough to gleam. Beside it, a full-body mirror stood sentinel,and it reflected towards me the soft green-and-silver carpet beneath my bed.

And then there was my trunk, situated by the side of the door with a note atop it. I took a deep, fresh breath and let it out slowly, allowing the fervor and excitement so absent last night to flood into me in all its intrusive glory.

I wanted to jump, punch, and scream bloody hurrah for all to hear and know my excitement. But I was tempered…matured, and pretentious still, thus I only let a small quirk of my lips to carry all I felt within. I was set to shroud myself with the image of sophistication—an easy pursuit since I had practiced the pretension from a younger age.

Soon, I believed, the regality would come as second nature, and then, the pretence would end.

‘Expectations, ever such pleasant things to look forward to despite the loom of disappointment so frequent.'

Another breath left my lips, the fresh feel of the air in this room not missed by my senses. However this wonder did not demand in me immediate investigation, for I still lacked much information and capabilities to comprehend fully this level of enchantments.

"Patience." The word left my lips like wise counsel…sage advice. I ought to cultivate in me some of it, lest my childish impulses see me with many embarrassing regrets and ill-realised opportunities.

I sat up fully and shifted to the side, letting my feet dangle. The memories from yesternight resurfaced in my mind. I recalled all the rules shared and the manners expected of us. I remembered the wonders performed too—the dormitory we were meant to dwell in transformed into singular quarters by the head boy’s authority.

That had amazed me and altered my prejudiced view of the pale blond heir. It was not that I dreaded sharing sleeping quarters with my yearmates—I had endured eight years of such an arrangement and developed a tolerance for it. But if offered a choice, I would choose not to.

I dropped to the floor, slippers sliding into my feet under the enslavement of my shroud. The bedroom’s ambiance lacked the warmth of the sheets, and even with the jittery energy that coursed through my veins, the temptation of the covers required from me a strong will to resist.

…personally, I would have rather the sorting be done at the eve of the weekend, thus granting us some free days to acclimate and familiarise.

Remembering the instructions, I went to my trunk, picked the note atop it and gave it a quick read—instructions about dirty laundry and room cleanliness. Elf business. I then opened the trunk, my shroud reinforced tap against the bewitched item achieving the same effect as the wand.

Within, the items were miniaturized and arranged in neat placements. A brilliant light illuminated the interior, and a rotation mechanism aligned the selected item with my intention.

"Like a bloody bag of holding, this thing is." I exclaimed, the awe once felt just as impactful and breathtaking as the initial experience.

Unpacking the items was much quicker than expected, most of them sharing the weightless enchantment tied to the trunk. I had little casual wears, only having brought the most excellent of my clothes from the orphanage. I’d need to replace them too if I wanted to keep up the ruse, or weave into them the spark of magic.

I shook my head, a smile on my lips. "Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself; doubt the others will be too nosy about my garments. And besides, I could feign enchantment with my shroud if need be."

But what of the fashion? The lack of crests?

…moving away from the now empty trunk, my shroud grabbed my bathing items and floated them beside me. My treacherous paranoia tried to breed anxiety into me, take the logic from my mind and see me unrelaxed.

I dared not let it.

The room had two doors, one that led to the common room, and another that led to the bathing chambers—this one slaved to my touch. I walked towards the latter.

The droplets tapped pleasantly against my face, the water just a touch below hot. I relaxed into the shower, letting the inspired rumination this experience facilitated take hold of me.

I missed this—the showers. I missed a lot of things, though many I had come to separate from their compulsions…the addiction.

But this—the soft bed, the good food, the luxuries—the cling was stronger, woven into my dreams and fulfillments all the same. It was wealth… comfort. This achievable goal, and so easy to realise still. All it needed was opportunity and willingness, and I had both in great abundance.

…my back rippled, strengthening. The exercise of this infant ability seeping away at my rush and softness both. I was cautious with it…ever been cautious with it, for my flesh was delicate and complex.

To manipulate it so—deny it from its natural evolution? Dangerous!

But Hogwarts was a unique place, free from the harsh shackles of reality and the severity born of foolhardiness. No, here, magic was more than welcome—it was encouraged. Acts that would find little realisation in the outside world sparked with insight before fizzling out with minimal harm.

It was…odd, though I dared not question it much, as it helped me alter and improve my physique with the latest mystery added to my shroud.

…my reserves waned, if only a little.

And the experience fattened, each usage bringing me closer to understanding and idealism. Yet I doubted I would gain peak-tween condition in just a single execution—especially since I was excluding my internals from the malformation…

I ran a hand up my face, the brush telling of exceptional cleanliness. The rest of my form was being scrubbed by my shroud, the finesse I’ve come to enjoy from it proving superior to the mundane scrubs.

Once again, I enjoyed the shower for a fraction, then my plans stole me.

…this new ability—the manipulation of flesh and instinct—did deprive me of the need for exercise and grace acquisition. I could maintain, or even improve my physicality and bodily grace without need for repetition or dedication.

Yet, it did not elevate my constitution to abnormal heights, thus I still needed to delve into rituals to breed into my mundanity the spark of uniqueness.

And such were my worries—the actualisation of my goals. I needed a timetable and a breakdown of the steps and necessities required for my first-year expectations to be met…

My hand reached for the tap and stopped the water’s flow. The cleanse was done. As for the droplets upon my body, the precise control of my primary boon allowed me to shed more of the wetness.

‘Acceptable.’

I noticed, however, that none of my yearmates had yet to wake, much less come to the showers. Of course, I blamed them not, as I was not ignorant of my abnormal rising hour. Stepping out, I found my pyjamas gone, along with the slippers I had worn. In their place was a new pair, neatly placed upon the towel I took to wrap around my form.

The enslaved creatures seemed to possess odd senses to aid them in their tasks, though their…spectacles lacked the feel of wizardry or the peculiar traces my shroud tended to leave behind.

Fascinating…or was it annoying? The piling mysteries surrounding the magical systems of this world were beginning to stir some irritation within me.

I shook my head and reached the singular door, bewitched to guide all who used it to their rooms upon leaving the bathing chambers—yet another piece of charm-work I needed to unravel before this academic adventure was over.

It was truly lucky that this desire for insight and grasp did not wane with the passing of days. Had I been a copy of my prior incarnation, I would have long discarded my dreams, for I had lacked the patience and autistic configuration to pursue such grand fancies with narrow minded fervour.

…the room was made presentable in the short time I spent showering. Even my luggage—the clothes I had removed from my trunk—were arranged neatly into the wardrobe. And on the made bed, my uniform was left, ready to be worn, with the shoes rested beneath the clothes.

However, I did notice that the creatures had left my wand untouched. How clever of them.

Dressing up took little time, and I was soon out of my resting quarters, journeying to the common room with a book in hand. Between that time and now, I had arranged my plans—at least for this first quarter of the year.

What I needed was to complete the first year’s theoretical syllabus before the month was over. That would give me the necessary time to tackle the material of the older years or at least expand upon the basics until significant understanding was achieved.

Second was building rapport with my housemates—the ones from my year. It appeared I would not need to rely heavily on complex plans to earn respect, or at least to be regarded as a voice of reason among the infant snakes.

The house had some odd customs that encouraged isolation and pomp—something Malfoy demanded of us. "Conduct yourself in a manner that will not bring shame or ridicule upon House Slytherin." I believed those were his exact words.

I could work with that—flourish, even.

There was already an existing bond forged during the feasting, and I was set to exacerbate it in the coming days.

Be a model student.

Be helpful to my housemates.

Rack up house points to a noticeable extent.

And pursue childish ventures to bolster closeness and manufacture fond memories.

I also needed to engage with the upper years to inquire about the assignments and expectations common within the first-year curriculum. The second years would be the most preferable to ask this of, as the material and regrets would still be fresh in their minds.

"I’d probably need to get it done this week or before the month’s out." I decided with a mutter of words that failed to echo the coherence of their content.

The common room came into view, green and deep. I had ever found the lounges enchanting marvels of architecture, their beauty and weight something no mere teen could ever fully appreciate. They reminded me of the rooms where wealthy men in exclusive clubs sat to discuss, savor brandy, and puff scented tobacco.

The Slytherin common room was even more that, rich with history and an ever-present ambience that demanded tranquil and silence when in its midst. It also allowed no echoes despite its grandeur, a feat that intrigued me more than it should.

I descended the low stairs, passing a couple of older students who had risen even earlier than I. There were more of them in the study area, with quills, parchments, and tomes being read through tired eyes.

I headed toward the massive arched window that revealed the passage of creatures calling the Black Lake their home. A few sofas were arranged beneath the window, occupied by only two upper years. I joined them.

"Good morning," I greeted, inwardly cringing at the childishness of my cadence, hating it all the more knowing how much status mattered to these snakes.

"A firstie this early to the lounge? Now that’s not a common sight, is it?" One of them said to me, his voice not as restrained as mine. He was a slight bit older than me, with dirty blond hair and onyx eyes—and was not that an odd feature. His voice was richer too, though the mirth in it robbed him of any authority.

"Rare as hen’s teeth, most of them lie in till all hours. Blimey, I used to do the same, kipping until the prefect came round. Absolute nightmare, the way he woke us." His friend replied, taking into the conversation with a rustic grace born of familiarity and comfort.

My lips twitched, though the rest of my amusement remained behind this shroud of elegance.

I gestured towards the free sofa, keeping to politeness.

"Do sit, firstie. And share with us your name before anyone starts taking offence," the blond said. "I’m Todd, by the way, and this here’s my mate Pike. We’re third years, you see."

I settled into the sofa with deliberate grace, minding my robes. "Perteus Graymort, and as you’ve already guessed, I’m a freshman." I struggled a bit to find a way to further the conversation. "Do either of you have the time? I do believe the bewitchment of these walls has made a fool out of me."

"Ah, the old dawn light, is it? I swear, those four must’ve been proper pranksters to stick a charm like that in the walls," Pike said, pulling out his wand and casting Tempus. "It’s 06:03 now, we’ve still got another hour and a half before breakfast, and another thirty minutes before class. You firsties’ll get your class schedule during the fast."

I absorbed his words, my shroud also mapping out the way his…magic functioned. There was no energy, of course, and the projection of his will into the world felt like the way Hogwarts felt—the weakening of realism.

Thus forth, I was dubbing this phenomenon Personal Reality.

Unfortunately for Pike, he was projecting far too much destabilisation for what amounted to a cantrip. It was akin to hosting a massive bonfire just to warm a cup of water.

Though, I suppose that did speak to his strength. He most certainly had more raw vigour than I—almost everyone did, for that matter.

"…useful charm, and thanks for the information," I told him, appreciative. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled two sickles and presented them to the teen. "I would ask a further favour of you, if you don’t mind."

"Oh, what’s this? One of those deep-pocket types, are you? Should’ve guessed—your name does sound fancy enough."

An incorrect deduction, but he did take the coins.

"It’s nothing demanding or malicious. I merely want to ask for some insight into the curriculum and activities expected of first years—the modules, assignments, tests, and the regulars of the exams."

I had decided that I might as well start early with my plan, and these two appeared friendly enough—not to mention available.

"I dare say that’s a tall order, mate. Brilliant, though, I’ll give you that. Wish I’d thought of it in my first year—might’ve spared me a good few lashings from my pa’s belt." Todd replied in Pike’s stead, easily sliding into the dealings with good humour.

I suppressed yet another smile.

…they were not regular kids, these wizards. Certainly not as carefree and impulsive as the children at the orphanage or the secondary school I had attended before my enrollment here.

"Fair enough." I pulled out a gold coin this time, one of the nine that made up my entire fortune. It was risky business, but I did have an idea on how to acquire more coins. "But you’ll need to be thorough, yes? I don’t need the information immediately, but before this week’s out."

The both of them glanced at each other, huge grins on their faces.

"You’ve got yourself a deal, firstie."

We lapsed into a calm silence after that, and I took to reading one of the books I had purchased from Gilbert’s shop. The Third Miracle: Ancient Sorcery.

Convenience was not really something I had expected from the book—or any book I might have gotten, for that matter. To expect such would have been extremely naive, not to mention moronic. Yet here I was, settled with answers mere minutes after I had expressed irritation at the mounting systems potent in this world.

Of course, I would not so readily take the words spoken here as factual—theories did have a tendency of being disproven.

One of the topics read:

『 …though often overlooked in the current age of wand weaving and potion brewing, it is important to remember that these systems represent just a fraction of the many methods that have existed throughout history. Long before these carefully crafted and engineered means of harnessing magic, there existed a more natural, and perhaps more elegant, form of magic—sorcery. Though less convenient in comparison, sorcery was a powerful force, once so revered that it allowed men to equate themselves with gods, and with good reason.

Free from the use of external conduits or the complex—and often perplexing and frustrating—rituals required to channel miracles, sorcery was a practice rooted in the self. It relied entirely on an individual’s innate ability to manifest power. Those born with the gift could wield control over the elements, command nature, or even communicate with animals. Historical figures, such as the renowned Olympians, have often been…』

I did not quite understand—not really. But I was absorbed, more by the similarities this sorcery had to my boon than by the confirmation of mythic beings having merely been humans LARPing as gods.

By the time I looked up again, it was near breakfast and my male year mates had yet to show.

'Just wonderful.'

A/N: Classes start in the next chapter. I had been wondering if I should add more interactions with other characters, or if I should just primarily focus on the magical journey and discoveries of the MC.