I stood before Professor Snape, his dark eyes locked on me like a hawk waiting for the mouse to twitch. I paused, collecting my thoughts. "Not much… but I've read enough in… outside sources to understand how magic tied to bloodlines might function—fiction, legends, theory," I admitted. "Most of what I've seen suggests that some traits are hardcoded, etched into the magic of one's blood like a crest. If traits are latent or dormant, perhaps a magical stimulus, like an artificial catalyst, could wake them up."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Go on."
"Well… in stories, things like curses and blessings travel down bloodlines. But what about magical potential? Maybe some potions work like keys. They fit the 'lock' of your magic and unlock something sleeping, something inherited."
Snape didn't scoff. Instead, he tilted his head in mild approval.
"You're not far off. In fact, the nature of bloodline traits shares a surprising number of qualities with blood curses. Both are passed down, but curses tend to deteriorate a lineage—whereas traits, if nurtured, can elevate it. Some are dominant, others recessive. And in rare cases, they mutate or awaken seemingly from nowhere."
He crossed the room, lifting a leather-bound tome from a private shelf. "It's also why Squibs exist—or why some magical talents, like Seer blood, skip generations or lessen in quality. The trait doesn't vanish it goes dormant."
I nodded, absorbing every word like a sponge.
"But how does a potion, especially the Magical Amplification Potion, interact with that?" he mused. "Its effects defy most alchemical logic. It boosts magic and awakens something hidden to a certain degree. It shouldn't be possible."
I stepped forward, confidence growing.
"What if we're looking at it wrong?" I asked. "What if instead of forcing traits out, it awakens them forward using ambient magic? Imagine taking that magic and… making it physical. Solidifying it, so you can touch it like you would with a rare mineral or enchanted ore. Then you use a refinement process to liquefy it filtering impurities. Almost like bleeding a stone."
Snape blinked once. Slowly. "Solidified ambient magic? No such thing has ever been observed."
"That we know of," I muttered. "But think about it. If raw magic could be contained—then infused with stabilizers—like herbs that open blood vessels or enhance metabolism… we might get a viable delivery method."
His gaze sharpened.
"You're speaking of biological alchemy—activating the body's latent tolerance to foreign magical substances. Plants like murtlap, basil-leaf root, or scarlet bloom can temporarily expand magical pathways."
"Exactly," I said. "And if we find herbs that allow the body to tolerate extreme mana saturation, like shielding it from toxicity or overload—then combine that with condensed ambient magic as the 'fuel'—"
"We'd have something dangerous," Snape finished for me. "Very dangerous. The mana would act like radiation in a Muggle case almost like cancer or if they are lucky opening magical pathways in the body. Without proper regulation, the body could deteriorate or mutate the result are inconclusive."
"Or like an Obscurus," I whispered.
Snape paused. "You've been reading more than just schoolbooks." I shrugged. "Theories are just blueprints. What matters is making them real." He turned sharply, grabbing a second book from the shelf—this one older, its leather cover cracked and marked with faded gold.
"There are ingredients listed here—extinct or rare—that could form the base of such a compound. Moonvine sap. Twilight kelp. Wyrmroot bark. If extracted and processed correctly, they might handle part of what you're suggesting."
"But combined directly…?"
"They'd kill most," Snape said. "Painfully."
I considered that. "What if there's an intermediary process? What if Alchemy isn't just combining ingredients, but reshaping them at a magical level—by infusing them with liquid mana first? It might stabilize the interaction."
Snape's fingers tapped the cauldron beside him thoughtfully.
"Mana liquefaction isn't an established branch of Alchemy. It's theoretical at best."
"So was flight before broomsticks," I said.
Snape looked at me for a long moment.
Then, for the first time since I'd met him, a rare thing happened—he smiled. Slightly. Briefly. "A first-year proposing mana-based transmutation and biologically anchored Alchemy," he murmured. "Very well. You and I will continue this project. But be warned—failure could be lethal."
"I've got time. And money. Plenty for a research fund." Snape's smile widened by a fraction. "In that case Dawn let's get to work."
The cauldron bubbled softly, its pale green vapors evaporating into the dim light of the dungeon classroom. I stared at the last failed attempt of our Magical Amplification Potion, watching the thick, lumpy sludge swirl like dying magic down a drain.
Three hours had passed Snape and I had gone through three dozen ingredients, six theoretical alchemical stabilizers, and two methods of mana extraction and solidifying. The result?
Zero progress made.
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "The core reaction keeps rejecting the mana weave… This potion either demands a lost ritual base or a non-standard magical infusion method. Either way, we're wasting ingredients for now."
"I expected that," I said calmly, wiping sweat from my brow. "It's a long-term project. I just wanted to see where the dead ends were."
Snape turned toward me, and for a moment, his usually cold eyes held something else—respect, maybe. Or at least recognition of effort. "Most would have walked away after the second failure."
I smirked. "Good thing I'm not most."
As I packed up my supplies, I casually added, "By the way, Professor… a few students are planning to ambush me tonight."
Snape's eyes sharpened like daggers. "Names."
I gave them to him from Pansy's list—leaving her name conspicuously absent. He nodded slowly, his lips twitching into a familiar scowl.
"I'll handle them personally."
"I've got a better idea, sir."
He arched a curious brow, folding his arms. "Do tell." I just grinned. "Let's call it… a practical demonstration of intent."
Dungeon Corridor Outside the Potion Room
The corridor was quiet. Cool. Silent. Except for the faint tremble in the air like tension drawn taut before the pluck of a string.
I stepped out of the classroom, equipping my invisibility cloak in one swift motion. My body disappeared from view, cloaked in shimmering magic, but my Mind's Eye opened in full clarity. The world lit up with auras—pulsing, colored fragments of emotion and energy. Anger. Impatience. Fear. All radiating just down the hallway.
Six of them.
Clustered near the corridor corner. Slytherin upper years most of them had already been disciplined once by me and clearly hadn't learned. I moved silently, each step calculated. I crept past them, boots whispering over stone. Close… closer… until I was right behind them.
Then I remembered there a new spell from the enchanted journal I hadn't checked. I mentally summoned the journal, flipping through until the ink glowed faintly on the page.
New Spell Unlocked: Darkness
Creates a 15-foot radius sphere of magical darkness that blocks all normal vision. Non-magical light cannot illuminate the area.
I grinned. Perfect. Another spell from D&D that I'm familiar with.
Still invisible, I raised my wand and pointed it toward the center of their group. "Umbra Noctis." A surge of cold magic rippled out. In an instant, a spherical field of total blackness swallowed the group.
"Wha—?!"
"Oi, what's going on?!"
"Where is everyone?!"
"LUMOS! Lumos damn it!"
Panic broke out as they shouted over one another. Wands clicked with useless light. Nothing pierced the magical dark.
But I could see them.
Their auras burned like fire in my Mind's Eye—bright and clear. I would hold out my hand and cast Magic Missile and with Telekinetic I knock them out one by one. A stream of glowing mana shot from my palm, striking each Slytherin with precision. Three to the chest, two to the back. One to the head.
They dropped like flies—unconscious, groaning, or simply too stunned to stand. All except one. The tall, stocky boy who'd used a slur against me weeks ago stood alone, shaking, wand raised.
I lifted the darkness It dissipated in a wave of fading black smoke. The boy blinked—realizing he was the last one standing. His friends lay around him, groaning or unconscious. His wand trembled in his fingers.
And directly in front of him was Professor Snape his arms folded, dark robes trailing like shadows.
The boy froze in horror.
"Explain," Snape said coldly.
"I—I—I didn't do anything! I—I think we got cursed or something—maybe Peeves—!"
I walked away from the scene letting Snape take care of the rest. Snape's eyes narrowed. "A likely story… considering your name was given to me just an hour ago as a potential threat towards other students ."
"But—!"
"Silence," Snape snapped. The boy opened his mouth to protest again, but Snape was already walking past him, inspecting the unconscious students. I smiled to myself and continued walking As I walked away, I heard Snape's voice again—low, cold, and merciless. "I'll deal with your punishment your coming with me while we get the nurse and headmaster.
The firelight in the Slytherin Common Room flickered low and warm, . I see the first through seventh years were gathered in study groups. Texts floated between tables with Leviosa charms, and even the most aloof purebloods were offering each other insight on Defense Against the Dark Arts or Charms exams.
I took a seat at one of the larger tables and pulled out a stack of parchment. For the next hour or so, I helped with homework revisions, corrected incantation forms, and simplified transfiguration theory for a couple second years.
Eventually, a familiar voice broke my focus. "Ready for our session?" Pansy Parkinson stood beside me, arms folded behind her back with the coyest smile she could muster. "Let's move to one of the study corners," I replied, rising and gesturing her ahead. She followed without a word. We sat by the hearth, just the two of us, and she immediately started flipping through her notebook.
But it wasn't long before she closed it again and said, "So… my parents want to open a new channel in their potions business. They think your father might be interested."
Ah. So it begins. I kept a neutral smile on my face and thought, Thank God. I really thought she was trying to flirt. The last thing I needed was more romantic complications—not with everything else I was managing. "I'll let my dad know. He respects ambition," I said casually.
Pansy leaned closer, lowering her voice. "And… well, considering how good your magic is, and if you keep making a name for yourself… maybe one day our houses could join. If my parents approve of you, of course."
I blinked once, slowly. Yep. There it is. Now this is weird. I forced a polite chuckle. "Let's just start with being friends, Pansy. If our families do business well, everything else will follow naturally."
She smiled, satisfied, and handed me a wax-sealed letter. "Here's the formal introduction. For your dad." A few minutes later, Draco and Nikita approached from across the room. Both looked curious, but Nikita wore her usual smirk (thank god they are saving me from this girl).
"Well?" Draco asked. "How'd it go with the ambush?" "Handled," I said simply, reaching for a biscuit on the snack tray. "No problems whatsoever." "You didn't kill anyone, right?" Nikita teased.
I gave her a very non-reassuring smile. "They're alive. I promise." Draco shook his head, but there was respect in his eyes. The night went normal until it didn't.
The Forbidden Forest – Late Night
The moon hung like a pale eye overhead, filtering silver light through the thick canopy as I crept behind the others under my invisibility cloak.
Harry, Hermione, Neville and Draco. While Hagrid leading the way, crossbow slung over his shoulder. Why did the events from the book still happen this way made no sense to me. Why the hell did the school make kids go into a dangerous area as a form of detention was a bigger question.
I watched their movements carefully, using Mind's Eye to map the terrain and their emotional states. I stayed behind them, steps silent as death. I needed ingredients and tonight unicorn's blood maybe the horn and other parts depending on how hurt it is. I will harvest as much blood and hair as possible and the horn if its close to death then heal it with my white gold flame to heal it. Hopefully the horn grows back from that which will make harvesting easier if it does. But also if it dies I will take the materials and use the shadow flame to absorb it I wounder what I will get.
I focused back on the current situation still trying to figure out why Draco snitched on Harry and the others. Maybe it's like what Magi said the world will start to push back in other ways I wounder what else is the same.
Hagrid split the group. Draco, Neville, and Harry veered left with Fang. Hermione and Hagrid to the right.
I followed the boys and then it happened. The clearing ahead shimmered with pale light—and there it was. A unicorn lay collapsed, its silvery blood like stardust pooling beneath it. Kneeling over the body was a cloaked figure, face hidden, hands trembling as it drank from the pool of silver life.
Voldemort
I froze.
But Harry's scar didn't hurt him no pain or screams just stunned silence. So this confirms it but that wasn't the only thing different Draco didn't run this time. He stood, stiff and pale, wand in hand. Harry's wand was already raised too, his eyes wide but focused. Neville was was the same they were all scared but they stood their ground in their own ways.
And I, still cloaked in invisibility and hidden from all… watched wondering if I should do something or watch to see if the original story will continue.