The Christmas holidays at Swann Manor had been an intense, compressed period of concentrated activity. For Sebastian, it wasn't merely a break; it was a highly stimulating research retreat.
The Weasley twins had proven to be astonishingly fertile ground for advanced magical theory. Having secured Professor Swann's permission—and more importantly, his initial financial backing—they transformed the lower level of the Alchemy Laboratory into a chaotic, humming hub of innovation.
Sebastian hadn't just given them free rein; he had given them a specific, advanced problem: How to leverage the emotional resonance of the Guardian Charm to enhance the learning efficiency of Iron-Clad Magic.
He found, to his delight, that Fred and George possessed a theoretical grounding in basic transmutation and structural charms that defied their third-year status. Their ability to envision unconventional magical solutions, often blending disciplines (alchemically stabilizing a charm's decay rate, for example), was impressive.
Sebastian spent hours supervising their progress, often guiding them with abstract questions rather than specific formulae, pushing them to think beyond the conventional textbook limitations.
"The key to the Guardian Charm, boys," Sebastian had explained, leaning against a worktable laden with bubbling vials, "is the profound, positive emotion—the focus of joy. If you can capture that emotional focus, even for a moment, and bind it to a mundane object, like your school badge, you might create a magical anchor. Now, how do you sustain that anchor and project its focus onto, say, a memorized sequence of wand movements?"
He was providing the abstract goal, the "why," and trusting their sheer ingenuity to figure out the "how." They were already experimenting with applying trace elements of high-purity Gilderoy's Glow—a specialized, rare luminescent reagent—to the metal of a test badge, hoping to create a conduit for emotional transfer.
Meanwhile, Harry, fueled by the competitive spirit of the dueling arena, was making measurable leaps in his combat skills. Sebastian had ensured the training was more than rote spell-casting. He drilled Harry on magical footwork, situational awareness, and the critical importance of a caster's intent.
Ron, initially a clumsy, instinctual duelist, had been forced into precision by Sebastian's focus on the non-verbal delivery of minor jinxes, which he found immensely useful. Sebastian felt a surge of genuine paternal pride watching them cheer as a well-timed, cleanly cast shield charm held firm under pressure.
Yet, happy times are brief. The Christmas holidays seemed to vanish in a flash, leaving behind only the lingering scent of pine and the residue of magical ambition.
As students flooded back into the castle, the quiet solemnity of Hogwarts was instantly replaced by a wave of vibrant, youthful energy. The hallways, now filled with the cheerful din of young wizards sharing holiday war stories, were almost physically jarring after the orderly calm of Swann Manor.
Harry, Ron, and Percy separated from Fred and George, the twins immediately returning to their lab in the bowels of the castle to resume their new project. Ron, despite his earlier anxieties, had enjoyed the dueling and camaraderie immensely and was looking forward to a final, lazy afternoon of Wizard's Chess.
This plan was obliterated the moment they encountered Hermione Granger.
Hermione was waiting by the entrance to the Great Hall, her face a mask of anxious determination. She pounced on the boys, her eyes wide with a combination of scholarly curiosity and barely concealed, competitive frustration.
"You have to tell me everything," Hermione demanded, grabbing Harry by the sleeve. "The personalized lessons, the alchemy lab, the dueling… was Professor Swann teaching you advanced Charms? Did he show you the proper stabilization sequence for a Level Four Transfiguration?"
Her tone sharpened as she focused on Ron. "And you, Ron Weasley! You said you were just going to play arcade games, but you look positively lighter on your feet! I regret everything! I should have signed the stay-at-school list just so I could have been a close friend and learned from the professor! My dueling skill was already beneath Harry's, and now I suspect I can barely hold my own against you!"
Ron's jaw dropped. "But—but I only did what Professor Swann called 'basic situational awareness training'! I just wanted to play some chess!"
Hermione ignored him entirely, her gaze fixed on Harry with the intensity of a laser. "We're going to the dueling arena immediately. You need to show me every single maneuver Sebastian taught you. My knowledge gap is becoming intolerable!"
And so, Ron's final hours of freedom were lost, dragged unceremoniously towards the dueling pitch by a friend who viewed the holiday not as a rest period, but as a critical, missed opportunity for academic advancement.
Sebastian settled back into his office chair, his expression one of focused, clinical concentration. The transition from Swann Manor back to Hogwarts had been jarring for him, too, but for a unique, magical reason.
Since returning to the castle grounds—and specifically since the initial flurry of magical energy surrounding the Grindelwald-shield analysis before the break—Sebastian's natural magical perception had become attuned to a strange, persistent phenomenon.
He closed his eyes, focusing his considerable magical sense not on the wards or the structural charms of the castle, but on the living energy of its inhabitants. What he perceived was not noise, but a constant, shimmering rain of energy.
This energy manifested as countless, tiny motes of light, radiating constantly from every witch and wizard, especially the younger, more emotionally volatile students. These mysterious particles behaved like ethereal pollen, fluctuating wildly in brightness and, most importantly, color, depending on the emotional state of their source.
Sebastian realized he was perceiving Emotional Energy (E-Energy)—raw, unprocessed psycho-kinetic residue.
He spent the first few hours back in his office, observing and diligently compiling a taxonomy of the colors:
Vibrant Yellow/Gold: High levels of Joy, Excitement, and Triumphant Accomplishment (e.g., students cheering a successful duel, or the twins upon a successful prototype activation).
Dull Red/Brown/Black: Indicates powerful Anxiety, Rushed Stress, and Frustration (e.g., Ron's earlier panic over homework, or students worrying about the return of difficult professors).
Soothing Blue/Gentle Green: Reflected Nostalgia, Contentment, and Deep-seated Affection (e.g., returning students greeting their friends, or Harry thinking of his time at the manor).
The most perplexing observation was their destination. These motes of E-Energy did not simply dissipate into the air. They were drawn by an inexorable, silent force, floating gently towards the stone walls, where they were slowly, steadily absorbed by the castle itself. It was as if Hogwarts was a colossal, ancient pump, harvesting the emotional life force of its residents.
Sebastian stroked his chin, his mind working furiously. Why had he never sensed this at Swann Manor, a house also built on powerful ley lines and protected by ancient magic?
The only difference is the scale and the inherent magical purpose, he reasoned. Swann Manor is a magically protected home. Hogwarts Castle is an ancient, self-sustaining Magical Nexus. It doesn't just block external magic; it actively accumulates, stores, and, I suspect, transmutes the internal energies generated within its domain.
The hypothesis formed, elegant and profound: Hogwarts Castle actively metabolizes the psychic energy of its inhabitants, materializing raw emotion into E-Energy, which it then stores or uses to maintain its own ancient protective and structural charms.
This led to the final, critical step in the scientific method: Confirmation. He needed to test the extreme ends of the emotional spectrum, particularly the strongest magical fuel known: negative emotion.
This brought him back to Dark Magic. Most dark spells, especially those that defy the basic laws of magical physics or inflict agonizing pain, are powered not by complex incantations, but by the caster's pure, malicious, and overwhelming negative intent—raw hatred, jealousy, or rage.
Sebastian decided to perform a controlled experiment. He focused his magical senses intensely, casting a powerful, non-lethal dark charm—an analogue to the Cruciatus curse—at a creature known to survive such focused malevolence: a large, resilient, eight-legged spider that had unfortunately wandered into his office.
Sebastian pointed his wand at the corner. He did not need to feel hatred for the spider, but he needed to simulate the pure, aggressive emotional intent required for the curse to activate—a cold, analytical focus on dominance and infliction.
He focused his magical core, forcing the dark, sharp edge of his magical will into the spell.
"Dolor Osseum Fractum!" (Heartbreaking and bone-shattering!) he whispered, the incantation a deliberate substitution for the Unforgivable Curse, but requiring the identical emotional fuel.
The spell lashed out, not as a flash of green or red light, but as a pure, focused beam of black, churning magical force.
The moment the dark energy struck the spider, causing it to curl instantly in momentary, non-fatal agony, Sebastian received his answer.
From the spider's body, and instantly generated from Sebastian's own hand as he cast the malevolent spell, burst a wave of dark, shimmering violet and intense, furious scarlet motes. These E-Energy particles were visibly denser and flowed towards the castle walls with a speed that the positive, yellow motes could not match. It was a terrifying confirmation.
Negative emotion is not only materialised into E-Energy by the castle, Sebastian thought, lowering his wand and immediately casting a simple Finite Incantatem on the stunned spider, it is materialized with far greater potency and urgency.
Hogwarts was a giant battery, and powerful emotion—whether love, joy, or pure, malicious intent—was its charging current. He had discovered a fundamental, terrifying truth about the school's deepest magic.
Sebastian now understood why the castle's powers sometimes seemed to surge during periods of great conflict or intense joy. He had an explanation for Dumbledore's frequent absences, too—the Headmaster was likely the only one who understood this mechanism and was actively managing the energy flow.
What do you think Sebastian will do next with this profound, potentially volatile knowledge of the castle's E-Energy absorption? Will he keep it secret, or will he find a way to study the phenomenon further without alerting Dumbledore?