August 21st, evening.
There were still ten days left before Hogwarts started.
Inside a dimly lit room.
With a loud thud, Dawn slamd his notebook onto the table, closed his stinging eyes, and leaned back against his chair, reaching toward the top left corner of the desk.
But after fumbling around several tis, he still couldn't find what he was looking for.
Dawn paused, opened his eyes for a glance, and realized that the potion he used to stay awake had already run out.
"Fuck."
He cursed under his breath, scattering the papers piled across the desk and tugging at his hair in frustration.
Dawn felt miserable.
Nearly a month without proper sleep...
Dozens of trips back and forth to Diagon Alley...
And countless sheets of paper docunting his own magic, other wizards' magic, and even the magic contained within magical creatures and potion ingredients...
He had poured in an incredible amount of effort.
Yet despite all that, as of now, his gains were practically zero.
By comparing his own magic with others', Dawn had only discovered that while there were so slight differences, overall, they were remarkably similar.
But he still couldn't figure out what those strange patterns represented.
It was infuriating.
Dawn pressed his forehead against the desk.
He was soone who loved getting to the bottom of things that interested him, savoring the thrill of uncovering the truth.
Yet now... he had no clue about his own ability.
°Lumos°
Taking a deep breath, Dawn gripped his wand and softly spoke the incantation.
Imdiately, a gentle and bright light burst from the tip of the wand.
Dawn lifted his head and stared at the magic composing the light.
After repeated experints, he had noticed that when casting a spell, a portion of his magic would form the spell itself. Moreover, the patterns within that portion of magic would undergo clear changes.
So... was it the differences in the patterns and lines that determined the spell? And when inside the body, those patterns were the natural, inactive state of magic?
Thinking carefully, this theory could indeed explain a few things. For example, the subtle differences in magic among individuals might indicate a natural talent toward certain types of magic...
But even knowing this, so what?
He still could only use magic to alter the patterns when casting spells, not the other way around—he couldn't consciously modify the patterns to achieve sothing.
Dawn was not satisfied with that.
Perhaps due to his inner frustration, the light atop his wand suddenly flared several tis brighter.
"Ugh!"
Caught off guard, Dawn let out a muffled grunt, flinging his head back and covering his stinging eyes.
The wand's light extinguished completely.
After a mont.
Dawn blinked, but the scene before him still swayed wildly in all directions.
He shook his head, but there was no improvent—he realized he truly needed to rest.
Thinking this, he pushed himself off the table, stepped over the ssy heap of empty potion bottles on the floor, and without even bothering to take off his clothes, collapsed onto his bed.
Soon, he was fast asleep.
The silver moon faded away.
By the ti Dawn opened his eyes again, it was already midday the next day.
He sat up, pressing a hand against his still-dizzy head, clicking his tongue softly as he looked at the sheets of parchnt scattered even across the bed.
"Forget it. Better leave it for now."
Without any new leads, continuing to force it would only be a waste of ti.
Still, he didn't want to waste the remaining days before school started.
After a mont's thought, Dawn decided to go buy so potion ingredients and practice brewing at ho.
Over the past five years, he had put in effort across Charms, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes, but had barely touched Potions.
It wasn't due to any bias; it was simply that potion-making demanded constant attention during the brewing process, and Dawn felt the ti efficiency was too low.
But now, he had the free ti.
"Scourgify."
Casting a cleaning spell on himself, Dawn grabbed the wizard robes hanging from the coat rack and headed outside to flag down a bus.
He hadn't started learning Apparition yet—trying it alone would be dangerous if he accidentally got splinched.
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Charing Cross Road, please."
A brief exchange.
About forty minutes later, Dawn paid the fare and got off.
He hadn't walked far when he spotted it—the shabby, inconspicuous little pub tucked between a bookstore and a café.
Pulling on his wizard robes, Dawn pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The place was crowded, even more than usual, likely packed with young wizards from the Muggle world, now buzzing with excitent over discovering the wizarding world.
Dawn didn't linger.
He passed through to the back courtyard, found the brick wall, and tapped a specific brick with his wand.
The wall split open.
Diagon Alley was as lively as ever, resembling a bustling market.
As he passed Flourish and Blotts, Dawn hesitated briefly at the door, spotting the middle-aged employee with a face full of freckles shelving books between two bookcases.
He had intended to ask if the man had picked up anything from Knockturn Alley recently.
But seeing the stream of custors inside, he decided to leave it for another day.
Moving on.
Passing the dusty sign of Ollivanders, the grand marble halls of Gringotts, and the massive crowd gathered around Quality Quidditch Supplies...
Dawn finally reached a small potion shop—Jiggers Apothecary.
The prices here were fair, and they thrived by selling in volu. Dawn had bought his last batch of invigorating potions here.
"Welco."
Seeing a custor enter, a young man hurried forward to greet him. Dawn glanced at him—a new face, probably hired just recently.
"I need to buy so potion ingredients."
Dawn got straight to the point.
"Dried nettle, wormwood, flobberworm mucus, porcupine quills, daffodil roots... and so lavender and moonstone as well."
He listed the ingredients he had decided on beforehand.
The employee repeated his order, nodding, "No problem, sir. We have everything in stock."
He led Dawn toward the potion ingredient section.
"By the way, pardon asking, but are you a new student at Hogwarts this year?"
The young man eyed Dawn's youthful face with curiosity. "I noticed a lot of the ingredients you're buying are used in first-year lessons. Are you planning to practice before term starts?"
"Yeah."
Dawn nodded while lightly sifting through a box of lavender.
Satisfied that he had confird the custor was a fellow student, the employee relaxed a lot more.
"That's really impressive. I hardly ever see young wizards who study ahead. I bet you'll be sorted into Ravenclaw!"
"Hopefully. I think Ravenclaw sounds nice."
Dawn replied without even looking up.
He had realized his ability ca in handy when shopping. By observing the concentration of magic within the materials, he could easily pick out higher-quality specins.
The employee didn't mind Dawn's casual tone. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he continued talking:
"But even though it's great you're studying early, you shouldn't expect much praise from the professors once school starts... after all, everyone knows Professor Snape only favors Slytherin students."
He said this with a look of deep regret.
Dawn finished selecting the ingredients he needed, organizing them neatly, then glanced up.
"You're a Gryffindor wizard?"
"Eh? You know Professor Snape especially dislikes Gryffindors too?"
The employee was surprised that even a pre-first-year student had heard of it.
"But you'll be disappointed. I'm from Hufflepuff. I just have a friend who's a Gryffindor—he's an Auror now."
He explained with a smile.
Then, as if rembering sothing juicy, he lowered his voice and leaned closer to Dawn with a mischievous look.
"By the way, I heard he had a dream the other night about brewing a potion... and he fell out of bed in terror! Want to know why?"
Because of Snape?
Dawn imagined a greasy bat spewing venom and felt speechless, but seeing the young man's eager expression, he played along and asked,
"Why?"
"Because back in one sester, he got detention from Snape for potion mistakes... twenty-seven tis in a row!"
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