Hogwarts: Proficiency Panel Chapter 476 476: Inwardly Built Magic

"I want you to understand it, and learn to use it."

Snape flicked his wand in a slashing, serpentine motion. A ball of fire erupted

from its tip—it started small, yet it seed to possess a consciousness of its

own, hungrily seeking out nearby objects to consu. As the discarded materials

in the dungeon ignited, the flas swelled in size. Simultaneously, beasts of

living fire surged forth.

"Fiendfyre," Snape explained coldly. "It summons a cursed, sentient fla. These

flas actively seek out and consu everything in their path, particularly...

life. Once the consumption reaches a certain threshold, the flas manifest as

massive, monstrous beasts. It is intensely hot, possessor of staggering

destructive power, and one of the few materials capable of annihilating anything

it touches."

Amidst the roaring blaze, Sean could clearly feel that Professor Snape's control

over Fiendfyre was an entire level higher than Professor Quirrell's. Quirrell

had struggled even to keep the fire-beasts coherent; Snape, anwhile, remained

aloof and effortlessly in command.

"It is an incredibly advanced curse, which only a handful of powerful and... ha,

'misguided' wizards dare to attempt. But I tell you this: do fools fear the

blade because they truly fear the tal itself?" Snape sneered, his eyes burning

as he looked at Sean. "They fear only themselves—they fear those versions of

themselves that lack the strength to control power or authority."

With a final flick, Snape checked the spell, and the flas vanished in an

instant. Sean guessed the Professor had used a non-verbal silencing charm.

"Rember well: once Fiendfyre is released, it is nearly impossible to

extinguish or contain. Conventional fire-extinguishing charms are entirely

useless against it. The only way to counter it is to overwhelm and reshape it

with magical power far greater than that of the caster." Snape glanced casually

at a chair that had been reduced to ash, then waved his wand again, causing a

piece of wood in the corner to hop and click into the shape of a chair. "As for

facing失控 (out-of-control) Fiendfyre, Green, I expect you to display the fastest

running speed of your life," Snape added.

The days spent learning Fiendfyre were terrifying. The first ti Sean summoned

it, the flas roared, filling half the room and destroying a good portion of

Professor Snape's private storeroom. That was the first ti Snape had ever

shown a hint of fear; he released a Finite Incantatem without hesitation to

suppress the fire, then fixed a strange, unreadable gaze upon the drained young

wizard.

"You are being controlled by it! You foolish... Green!" Snape barked, his face

dark with fury.

"Professor... how do I control it?" Sean asked, struggling and careful.

"I suspect your troll-like brain is filled only with images of what Fiendfyre

looks like when it forms. If you imagine it to be so powerful, you are destined

to lose control of it. You must be far stronger than it is, Green," Snape

explained coldly.

Sean's second attempt began. He tried to imagine the Fiendfyre as sothing

pitifully weak, and a thin, wispy thread of fla rose up. Unfortunately, due to

Sean's poor control, the Fiendfyre manifested as fire-beasts after only a few

seconds. The fire-serpents, Chiras, and dragons devoured everything in their

path, and another third of Snape's precious collection vanished. Both Sean and

Snape stared blankly at the empty storage cabinet, which now contained nothing

but swirling ash.

"Professor, perhaps we should practice outside..." Sean slumped in his chair,

speaking cautiously.

"We stay here!" Snape roared suddenly. His expression was ugly, yet it was less

anger than pure, stubborn obstinacy. Only here, in the dungeons, where he had

reinforced the magical barriers, could they avoid the prying eyes of certain

ddleso wizards. He agreed with Dumbledore's outlook, but he trusted that the

boy could control himself.

Ti was growing short. If the Dark Lord's power were to wane to a certain

point... no one knew what he might do.

The practice sessions lasted a long ti. Sean's Fiendfyre Curse was unlocked

after his third attempt and was now steadily progressing toward [Novice]. At the

sa ti, Sean discovered a fascinating rule regarding the spell: the panel

rated his powerful, wild Fiendfyre as [Apprentice], but the strictly controlled

Fiendfyre was rated as [Adept]. This defied the usual rules—usually, spells like

Lumos were rated higher the brighter they burned.

"If your intelligence hasn't been incinerated along with the cabinets, you had

best take out your quill and write this down: in the realm of Dark magic,

control is far more important than destruction. I know far too many idiot

wizards who were killed by their own Dark magic. So rember this well, Sean

Green: true power lies in inward construction, not outward extraction—"

Snape's voice ended coldly as the dungeon door slamd shut—or what remained of

it, anyway. Half of it had been burned away by the Fiendfyre. Looking at the

half-charred display case, Snape's expression was unreadable. He couldn't help

but think of the massive flas that had flowed so naturally, the fire-beasts

that had been summoned in a heartbeat. A complex look flickered in his eyes,

only to be replaced by resolve.

Outside the dungeons, Sean pondered Snape's final words. In Dark magic, Snape

was undeniably a rare genius. According to Sirius Black, Snape had known more

curses when he entered Hogwarts than half the students in the seventh year. If

Snape believed that mastering Dark magic was more important than rely

strengthening it, did that an that for Dark magic, the importance of mastering

and shaping one's own faith far outweighed rely having a firm faith?

Ravenclaw had said: When magic was in its primitive stage, the ancient wizards

walked a path that led straight to the source. They were exploring the essence

of magic and used knowledge and wisdom to build an indestructible faith for

themselves. They explored magic, strengthened their faith, released more

powerful magic, then continued to explore those even more powerful forms... That

was what the ancient wizards had experienced.

But before all that—before wizards had explored magic at all—wizards were pure.

They used no wands, spoke no incantations. In Ravenclaw's mories, duels

between ancient wizards often looked more like a contest of who was more

furious. Whoever mobilized their magic in anger first won the duel. Thus,

wizards in that era couldn't even dream of challenging dragons; re survival

was a struggle.

And yet, eventually, wizards rose to the pinnacle of the magical world. What

happened during that process?

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