The lingering, acrid sensation of the dark magic faded, but the resulting surge of E-Energy was unforgettable. As the malevolent force of the simulated curse subsided, Sebastian's magical perception was intensely flooded with the dense, almost suffocating wave of black matter erupting from his core.
It felt like an instantaneous draining of all light and warmth, a pure, distilled essence of destructive will.
Based on the emotional intent he had focused on—a cold, calculated desire to inflict—Sebastian easily deduced that this virulent black substance represented deep-seated malevolence, spite, and raw destructive potential.
He recalled the faint, dark red and black motes he had observed earlier emanating from the stressed third-year.
That poor child wasn't wishing for the death of his family, Sebastian chuckled darkly, adjusting his collar. He was simply so overwhelmed by Ancient Runes homework that he was generating the E-Energy equivalent of "I wish to destroy this textbook and never speak of the Futhark alphabet again."
The difference between minor frustration and true malice was only a matter of density and quantity, yet the underlying mechanism was identical.
Observing the black substance being greedily absorbed by the ancient stone of Hogwarts, Sebastian found the powerful, practical reason behind the school's long-standing, unwavering prohibition of the Dark Arts.
While dark spells were indeed often simple and easy to master—since the genesis of malevolence and spite is tragically simple for most humans—their use generated an immediate, potent, and overwhelmingly negative charge in the E-Energy network.
If a student body, particularly during a time of conflict, were filled with hatred and constantly generating these high-density black motes, the cumulative effect could potentially corrupt the fundamental stabilizing charms of the castle, turning the sanctuary into a malignant nexus.
This also cast a brilliant, crucial light on the greatest magical feat of the last century: Lily Potter's Love Charm. Dumbledore's persistent, almost philosophical insistence that love was the most powerful magic in existence had always been viewed through a sentimental lens by the broader magical world. But now, Sebastian understood it scientifically.
Lily's sacrifice was not just a moral act; it was the creation of a pure, massive, singular wave of high-density, positive E-Energy—unfiltered, total, maternal devotion—a power beyond any single spell. It was the absolute zenith of the Love emotional frequency, capable of canceling out the Hate frequency of the most powerful Dark Wizard.
Sebastian cleared his mind, the theoretical framework now blindingly complete. This system, this intricate, passive-aggressive mechanism that materializes and absorbs emotion, could only be the work of one mind: Rowena Ravenclaw.
The design itself screamed of her genius:
Efficiency: The castle harvests the most abundant resource on earth—human emotion—converting it into usable, continuous magical power without requiring external expenditure or effort.
Conservation: This continuous energy source maintains the colossal, self-repairing, and warding structure of the castle, an alchemical artefact of immense scale, for thousands of years.
Wisdom in Transmutation: It forces every emotional fluctuation—joy, fear, even academic boredom—to contribute to the school's structural integrity, making the students' very presence essential to its existence.
It was an act of profound, subtle generosity—a true reflection of a founder who valued wisdom and knowledge. The scale of the magic was not hidden; it was simply camouflaged by its own brilliance and permanence.
Sebastian, an alchemist and Charms master, was deeply eager to decode this foundational magic, not only to apply it to his own alchemical creations (imagine a magical item whose power regenerates based on the user's sheer determination or happiness) but also to explore its profound combat applications—a repeatable, channeled application of pure E-Energy to augment a spell, much like the Patronus Charm.
The question of Ravenclaw's legacy immediately presented itself. Did she actually leave a key, a textbook, or a master rune-script detailing this entire system?
Sebastian's initial thoughts drifted to the common lore. The Room of Requirement was often rumored to hold the founders' deepest secrets, but Sebastian quickly dismissed it. The Room of Requirement's magic—a creative spell that manifests based on necessity and intent—was too reliant on luck and subjective circumstance.
A founder who valued wisdom would not hide her magnum opus behind a trick that relies on happenstance rather than intellectual merit or dedicated study.
Similarly, the infamous bronze eagle knocker and its riddles, while fun, were merely a test of wit—a barrier, not the core legacy itself. Sebastian, in his determination, briefly sought out the Grey Lady, Helena Ravenclaw.
He found her floating silently near the astronomy tower, her usual mournful air magnified by the quiet corridors.
"Lady Helena," Sebastian addressed her respectfully, "I seek to understand your mother's magical legacy, particularly the principles of emotional transmutation embedded in the castle's core."
Helena paused, her spectral form shimmering. She looked at him with an ancient, knowing sadness. "My mother's magical heritage, Professor Swann, is not a scroll hidden in a chest. It is a design, a philosophy, woven into every stone. Hogwarts is filled with the legacy she left behind."
She began to drift away, the phrase echoing slightly. "Be careful what you seek to unpick. Remember, extraordinary wisdom is humanity's greatest treasure—and the most visible truth is often the most overlooked."
Sebastian stared at the empty space where the ghost had been. Leaving already? That infuriating riddler! He slumped, momentarily defeated, and began walking back towards his office, his mind spinning fruitlessly on riddles and hidden chambers.
He stopped abruptly, mid-descent, on one of the castle's colossal, constantly moving staircases. He looked at the vast stone slab beneath his feet as it shuddered, silently correcting its position to align with a distant doorway.
"The most visible truth is the most overlooked…"
Sebastian's eyes widened. He slapped his forehead lightly, a genuine moment of self-reproach crossing his face.
Merlin's beard! He was so focused on finding the hidden key that he had completely ignored the functioning machine.
The very Moving Staircases were a prime example of Ravenclaw's advanced alchemical and transfiguration prowess.
They were not merely charmed to move; they were a complex, self-correcting, spatially-aware system—a continuous piece of magical engineering that had been operating perfectly for a millennium. And it was there, in plain sight, used by thousands of students daily without question.
Ravenclaw's legacy wasn't a single scroll or object. It was an open-source textbook written in stone and perpetual motion.
The entire castle was a magical repository:
The Hogwarts Staircase System: Contains the complex alchemical formulae for perpetual motion, spatial awareness, and mass-transposition.
The House Common Rooms: Their defenses and entrance mechanisms contain practical Charms lessons on layered concealment and personalized identification enchantments.
The Walls Themselves: The materialization and absorption of E-Energy—the very core of the castle's power—was accessible to any wizard with the skill to perceive and trace the magical flow.
Sebastian, suddenly energized by this profound epiphany, stood on the moving staircase, paying deep homage to the subtle genius of the founder. I am sitting on a mountain of treasure! he thought, practically vibrating with excitement.
Only a few wizards—Dumbledore and perhaps himself—possessed the advanced understanding of both Charms and Alchemy to even begin to decode the castle's true function. And yet, the knowledge was never hidden; it was displayed.
Sebastian reversed his course and stormed back to his office, his doubt replaced by burning, focused dedication.
If the E-Energy flow could be seen and traced, it could be mapped. And if it could be mapped, he could decode the fundamental runes responsible for transmuting each raw emotion into usable magic.
The first emotion he needed to focus on was Happiness—the high-frequency, clean energy that generated the vibrant yellow motes. The perfect, standardized vehicle for this emotion was the Patronus Charm.
Sebastian stepped into a quiet, heavily warded corner of his office. He took several slow, deep breaths, clearing his mind of the fatigue and the momentary dark residue from the earlier experiment.
He then focused with absolute clarity on the single, happiest memory he possessed—a moment of quiet, unqualified contentment with Mia, perhaps the feeling of simply watching her work or sharing a silent cup of tea on the manor's balcony.
He raised his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A jet of brilliant, incandescent silver-white light erupted from his wand tip, coalescing instantly into the fully corporeal form of his Phoenix Patronus. The creature blazed with pure, protective joy, circling his office with silent dignity.
As the Patronus Charm held, Sebastian immediately shifted his magical perception. A fountain of pure yellow, crystalline light particles poured out from his own body. He traced their path as they flowed outward, drawn inexorably to the stone wall, where they vanished.
He cast the Patronus three more times, maintaining the pure emotional focus, and tracing the light's final point of absorption into the wall's stone structure. With each trace, a complex, shimmering pattern began to appear in his mind's eye—a simple, powerful magical rune.
He immediately copied the image onto a sheet of parchment. This was the elemental Rune of Joy—the most foundational magical cipher used by Ravenclaw to transmute happiness into continuous power.
Sebastian was ecstatic. The experiment was a complete success. This discovery was far beyond the mere mechanics of the Mirror of Erised; it was the key to the castle's very soul.
He felt the intoxicating rush of the researcher who has just unlocked a fundamental truth of the universe. He had found the first building block of the Emotional Magic System.
He now had to map the remaining six fundamental, potent emotions that formed the basis of magical interaction: Anger, Sadness, Fear, Love, Hate, and Desire. He knew he needed to approach them with the same focused, scientific rigor.
Sebastian reached for the two-way mirror, his voice tight with excitement.
"Mia, darling? I'm afraid I won't be home tonight. You absolutely must get some rest," he announced, practically vibrating.
Mia's voice came back, calm and amused. "Oh? Did Fred and George accidentally transmogrify your desk into a flock of startled owls, dear?"
"Worse, and far, far better," Sebastian replied, grinning widely. "I've discovered Rowena Ravenclaw's magical heritage. It's not hidden; it's everywhere! And I've just decoded the first foundational emotional rune! I need to map the full set of emotional spectrums before the daylight wards reset their energy flow. I'll need to experiment with every known high-emotion charm, including a few… less pleasant ones."
"Be careful not to accidentally become a Death Eater while decoding the Rune of Hate, Sebastian," Mia replied, her tone a perfect blend of concern and wry humor.
"But if this is truly Ravenclaw's work, then yes, you absolutely must resolve this today. Don't worry about me; I'll send up some of that special Turkish delight and a good sleeping draught."
Sebastian hung up, his heart warmed by her acceptance of his sudden, frantic genius. He was ready. He had seven emotions, seven runes, and a thousand years of magical history waiting to be unpicked, stone by stone.
Do you think Sebastian should proceed by testing the remaining emotions on himself, or should he devise a safer, controlled experiment to avoid the emotional and magical instability of generating raw Anger, Fear, and Hate?