There were only two days left until my birthday, and I couldn't wait for Vespera's arrival. At the same time, I was constantly on edge, worrying that something would go wrong and Pettigrew would vanish from the cage in my room. I kept watching the parchment incessantly, as if Peter could evaporate simply because I stopped looking at him. While my reason whispered that no one in the Slytherin common room rummages through other people's things, logic carries little weight in moments like these. The rules here were strict and breaking them was unforgiven—everyone had something to hide, and everyone knew it.
It played into my hands, but the restlessness didn't leave me. I had no intention of risking even a mistake, so I preferred to skip the group training sessions with the others. Agnes watched me with concern; she probably thought I was ill. However, I didn't plan on confiding in her as long as there was still a chance the whole thing would get fucked up. Thanks to that, I at least had time to immerse myself in Morgana's Codex Ritualis. My first ritual had been euphoric, and I saw great potential in them.
Rituals could be the key to gaining power—a way to catch up to the other magical titans who had decades to build their strength. Voldemort certainly mastered some rituals. I assumed that even the Horcruxes were created ritually; surely a simple murder couldn't be enough. If it were, every other person in the wizarding world would probably have a Horcrux.
I diligently translated the rest of the book, but honestly? I was getting less cautious. I decided to speed it up—find a ritual that interested me based on a rough translation, and then translate it four or five times to be sure I understood everything correctly.
Through this, I discovered that the vast majority of rituals were currently unsuitable for me. It was mainly because serious and powerful rituals provided permanent effects. As a soon-to-be twelve-year-old kid, I was weak, slow, and lacked endurance compared to a grown, trained man. So, if I multiplied zero by two, I'd still just be a slightly larger zero.
Another problem was the ingredients for the more demanding rituals. To achieve permanent effects, magical or blood components were usually required. Morgana wrote that I could just buy those ingredients normally, but according to her, Mother Magic listens and watches. The permanent effect would be significantly weaker if I didn't put in the effort. The takeaway? If I need a dragon heart for a ritual, I must hunt it myself for the best effect. If I need a unicorn horn, it would be ideal if the creature gave it to me willingly... Of course, since I'm a guy and no longer innocent (though technically I am in this life, but who knows how the horse would take it), a gifted horn was out of the question.
Remarkably, the maximum number of rituals was individual for every wizard. Some speculated the limit was three; others claimed seven, as it is a magical number. According to Morgana, however, these guesses dated back to the times before Hogwarts, even back to the Roman Empire. She admitted to undergoing more than ten rituals and claimed that every powerful wizard must feel their own limit. She considered those talks to be pure bullshit.
It meant I could perform any ritual, but the actual benefit was what mattered. The book contained rituals for speed, stamina, and strength... but 0 x 2 = 0. There were even various combinations, but except for one single ritual, all the others seemed useless for now.
If you're wondering what ritual that was, it was a ritual to increase resistance and improve regeneration. It increased resistance to blows, weapons, and spells. It also accelerated the healing of injuries.
The ingredients? Troll skin, troll bone, and a phoenix feather. Morgana created this ritual out of love for her son, the legendary Mordred, son of King Arthur. Truthfully, I didn't know her story in detail, but I knew that during the times she lived, the church burned wizards at the stake. They weren't safe times at all. I could feel a genuine concern for her son's health in her words.
So far, I had one ingredient—directly from Fawkes. A feather he gave me voluntarily and of his own accord. Could he perhaps see the future? Was it my destiny to perform this ritual?
More questions than answers. However, I decided to go for it. I already have the hardest part to obtain, and since I received the feather voluntarily, the ritual will be all the more powerful. All that's left is to hunt a troll. I was firmly determined.
"In the future, I'll be hard to kill," I thought to myself with satisfaction.
Vespera would also surely appreciate a ritual that would help keep me alive. I believe that in the summer, she won't have a problem going on a hunt with me. And the troll? Even if it's magically resistant and has tough skin, water gets everywhere. I'll simply drown it.
Finally, my birthday arrived. It was Saturday, and Vespera was due to arrive in half an hour. I had been ready for a long time after a relaxing bath, and honestly? I was pacing nervously in my room.
Sallow and Zabini watched me suspiciously from their beds, where they were cramming for some subject, while Theodore was wandering somewhere with Tobias and Agnes.
"Tempus!" I conjured the clock again. Only two minutes had passed.
"Goddammit, what is wrong with me? I shouldn't be this nervous. Is it puberty?" I thought angrily.
I immediately started my breathing ritual. Inhale for four seconds, hold for four seconds, exhale for four seconds. I repeated it about ten times. When my heart rate finally settled, I realized I still had the family watch buried in my trunk. I hadn't worn it since Christmas, which is why I had to keep casting Tempus like an idiot.
I pulled it out and strapped it to my left forearm. It looked truly majestic—a visually captivating piece, and its functionality was simply top-notch. Besides the standard time, it featured a magical stopwatch, a moon phase indicator, and the precise astral time of the planets. In short, it had everything a wizard needed for rituals, brewing complex potions, or alchemy.
For the more demanding rituals, it was essential to track lunar phases and the positions of the stars. Especially when it came to the darker ones that required absolute precision.
When the watch finally showed fifteen minutes until the meeting, I pulled the cage from under the bed, covered by an old robe. As soon as I yanked it off and stood up, Sallow spoke up: "Since when do you have a rat? You should have at least informed us! What if he damaged our things?!"
I didn't intend to waste time on him, so I just snapped back curtly and quickly: "I don't have one. And he hasn't damaged anything; he hasn't even moved from the cage. Today is the first and last time you'll see him."
Without further explanation, I headed out of the bedroom and hurried straight to the Great Hall.
I arrived a minute earlier than we were supposed to meet, but Vespera was already waiting for me. She sat poised, proudly straight, and elegant as always. She was surveying the Diggorys, who were sitting nearby, with a cold gaze. I headed straight for her. As soon as she noticed me, her look—which could freeze hell itself—melted into something like a gentle tropical island.
She stood up and hugged me tightly.
"I missed you, nephew. The castle is boring without you," she whispered to me with a smile.
"I missed you too, Aunt Vespera," I replied. As soon as she stepped back, I flicked my wand: "Muffliato!"
She looked at me in surprise, but from my serious expression, she immediately understood this was no joke.
"I need your help, Aunt," I said quietly.
She didn't wait a second and nodded gravely: "Anything, Patrik."
"I killed an older student," I spoke with a completely serious face. "How do I clear my wand of the history of used spells?"
Vespera didn't hesitate for a second. Without a hint of judgment or shock, she immediately began explaining: "You must cast ten spells, even the same one repeatedly. That will reliably cover all traces. Ten is a hard limit; even the most powerful wizard cannot conjure more. Five is the common limit. So, just to be safe, Patrik, clear your wand as soon as we say goodbye. Don't wait for anything."
She paused for a moment, clearly running complex calculations in her head, and then continued: "Who did you kill, what did you do with the body, and are there any witnesses? If it's an influential and powerful family, I'll need to contact my acquaintances at Durmstrang immediately."
"God, this woman is amazing," I thought, my heart burning with pure love for her.
"I'm joking, Auntie. I haven't killed anyone, but we still have a serious situation ahead of us," I replied with laughter in my voice. After a moment, I turned serious: "In the cage you see is an Animagus. He is responsible for the deaths of twelve Muggles and a wrongfully imprisoned wizard. It's Peter Pettigrew, a Death Eater. We need to get him to the Aurors, who will ensure Sirius Black is set free."
Vespera immediately fixed her eyes on the rat scurrying in the cage. He had visibly lost weight; a few days without food had clearly done him good. She immediately noticed his front paws, which were missing one joint.
"Are you sure about this, Patrik? Evan supported the Dark Lord, and many of us believe he is still among us somewhere. By taking this step, we would be going directly against him, which could have fatal consequences in the future," she warned me carefully.
"I am sure. The House of Black has always been our ally. We cannot let the head of their house rot in Azkaban because of one cowardly rat..."
"Are you really sure? You're exposing yourself to immense risk, and Black must be long insane after so many years in Azkaban."
"Yes, Aunt. I have no plan to bow to any wizard, and I'm willing to accept the risk of future consequences," I replied determinedly. After a moment, I had to ask: "Are you in this with me?"
"Don't ask such a stupid question. Of course, I am," she replied sharply with a stone face. After a moment of silence, she felt the need to add: "Even unto death, Patrik."
Even before I planned on catching Peter, I knew I could count on her. I was immensely glad I wasn't wrong.
"We need to get him to the Ministry, to someone who is incorruptible. From what I've learned, Amelia Bones could be the key to his release. She has a reputation for being a fair woman. Do you know her?"
"I know her family and her personally. Her grandparents fell in the fight against Grindelwald, and the rest of her family was slaughtered by the Dark Lord. We have more of a neutral relationship, but I believe she would receive me if I came to her with such a problem."
"Then I'll ask you to go to her and arrange a fair trial for Black. As far as I know, he didn't have one and they just threw him into Azkaban. If Fudge stops you, remind him that he can benefit from this in his future campaign. It will be another blow against Crouch, and at the same time, he can prove himself as a just leader of magical Britain. He just needs to hurry the trial along. The other pureblood families will surely appreciate it."
"I see you've thought this through," she said appreciatively. After a moment, she looked at me intently: "Is it really just about Black's innocence, or is there something else? Because if you're pursuing another goal, just say so. I'll try to help you."
"Honestly? I care about our house. The Blacks have long been our allies, and deep in my soul, I feel I should help him," I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts, then continued: "Also, not counting my father, who bowed to Voldemort, we're all alone. Sirius Black is practically family thanks to my mother, and at the same time, he's dark enough to actually be of help to us."
I cleared my throat slightly and immediately followed up: "Our family assets are currently tied to my father. If Voldemort were to suddenly return, it represents a huge risk for us. With the right approach, Sirius Black can be neutral, and access to his finances will remain open to us. And money means freedom. Also, since I'm half Black, I believe he wouldn't have a problem sharing family secrets."
There was silence for a moment, so I added: "Besides... it's the right thing to do. He was loyal to his friend and deserves something much better than death in Azkaban and the mockery of wizards who aren't fit to lace his boots."
"You blend our house's pragmatism and your mother's kindness in a strange way. But so be it, I will help you. From Hogwarts, I'll go directly to see Bones," she promised with a slight smile.
"Thank you, I appreciate it, Auntie."
"Don't mention it. And now, enough about the others," she waved her hand, definitively closing the Pettigrew topic. "How are you? How's the training going? And actually... happy twelfth birthday! I wish you much happiness, health, and love, Patrik. May everything you set your mind to come true, and we'll celebrate it properly together over the holidays! Anyway, here's your gift."
Vespera immediately relaxed. She launched a barrage of questions at me and then added a heartfelt greeting. She handed me a package in green paper with a silver ribbon—a classic Slytherin combination. Based on the shape, it was clear to me that it was a book.
"Can I unwrap this book in front of everyone?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
My aunt wasn't the type to give children's fairy tales. I assumed the content would be dark enough that I wouldn't want to bring it to light in the middle of the Great Hall before the eyes of teachers and curious students.
"Of course, no problem. It's not a standard book sold in bookstores. I started preparing it as soon as you returned to Hogwarts. I've written down more demanding and powerful curses there—what they do, what they look like, how to cast them, and so on. I trust they'll be useful to you. I also added some shields and techniques, for example, how to defend against combat transfiguration. Simply put, there are curses and spells that I commonly use and that have helped me many times," she paused for a moment, then continued: "Naturally, you'll find black, white, and neutral magic in there. Since it's not a commercial copy, it's impossible to ban it," she concluded with a satisfied smile.
I didn't hesitate for another second and tore off the wrapping. I opened it eagerly—it was quite thick.
Right at the beginning, shields were described. I didn't read them in detail, but I quickly noticed Protego and its variations, even something named Aegis Aurum. Further on, I saw offensive curses like Reducto, Confringo (where the word "lethal" was underlined), and Bombarda and its stronger variants.
I skimmed the book only briefly, but I immediately knew that this was the perfect gift.
We talked for a few more minutes about small things—school, food, training, and my friends. Vespera boasted that a friend from Durmstrang was coming to visit her. I could see that she was genuinely looking forward to it, and though I was curious, I didn't want to pry into her privacy too much.
We said goodbye with a promise to write to each other regularly. She didn't forget to hug me tightly and promise to keep me informed of any news regarding Sirius Black. She also added that if necessary, she would contact Ranrok so we could involve our family lawyer in the whole process.
Finally, I headed to my usual classroom. I had an incredible urge for training—finally, I didn't have to be nervous because of that fucking rat.
***
Author's note:
So, thanks to Morgana, we've expanded our ritual lore while setting the stage for the next one. One thing that always bothered me in fanfiction is when a character performs a random ritual at a young age and suddenly becomes a demigod... it just never made sense to me. My take is a bit more grounded—logic still applies, even in magic. What do you guys think about this approach?
On another note, Vespera is proving once again why she's the ultimate "ride or die." She didn't even flinch at the mention of murder. A true Dark Witch and the best aunt anyone could ask for—she actually took the time to hand-write a book of powerful magic just for our MC!
***
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Upcoming Chapters – Already Written:
31. Water Whips and Secret Truths
32. The Echo of Wool's
33. In the Shadow of Lineage
34. The Greater Good's Echo
35. Memory: Dumbledore vs Grindelwald
36. The Bitterest Ink