The eighth floor of the castle.
Kyle had visited the Headmaster's office many tis before. With practiced ease, he located the Gargoyle statue with the water spout and confidently spoke the password.
The statue sprang aside, revealing the passageway behind it.
Inside the office, Dumbledore was engrossed in searching the bookshelf. At the sound of the door opening, he turned his head, his expression brightening.
"I do hope my invitation didn't disturb you," he said warmly. "But please, wait a mont—I believe I'm about to find it... Ah, here it is."
He pulled a slim booklet from the shelf, his eyes twinkling. "I think it's ti we honored our previous agreent," he said with a smile. "Rember? Back in the cave, I promised to teach you a spell."
"Of course, I haven't forgotten." Kyle's excitent was palpable, though it was quickly followed by a tinge of doubt. "But, Professor, do you have ti now? I an... the Philosopher's Stone."
"Creating the Philosopher's Stone is destined to be a long process, Kyle," Dumbledore explained patiently. "After the preparations are complete, there's little more we can do but wait. All we can do now is remain patient."
"This period, however, is an excellent opportunity for to fulfill my promise. I had intended to teach you at the beginning of the school year, but I kept postponing it. I imagine you must have grown quite impatient."
Kyle didn't reply but gave a small nod, which Dumbledore took as agreent. Truthfully, Kyle had been impatient, though he'd hesitated to bring it up. Dumbledore had always seed preoccupied, especially after Nicolas Flal's visit.
"Forgive my curiosity, but why do you wish to learn the Firestorm Charm? Oh—well, that is its na," Dumbledore said, studying Kyle closely. "To explore the mysteries of magic? Or to pursue powerful magic?"
"Both," Kyle answered after a thoughtful pause. "But mostly because I'm curious and... I enjoy it."
"Oh?" Dumbledore's expression shifted subtly.
"To be honest, I don't particularly lack powerful Charms," Kyle continued, settling into the chair across from Dumbledore. "Take the Fiendfyre Curse, for instance."
The room filled with startled murmurs as the portraits of forr Headmasters reacted. The clattering of fras echoed as they abandoned their feigned slumber, clustering in the largest portrait to whisper among themselves.
But Dumbledore remained unruffled, as though Kyle had said nothing out of the ordinary.
"Although this may sound arrogant..." Kyle went on, unfazed by the commotion, "I believe I've already mastered and used this Charm. In terms of sheer power and destructive force, there aren't many Charms that compare to Fiendfyre."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed calmly. Fiendfyre wasn't listed among the Unforgivable Curses solely because it had a counter-spell, Finite Incantatem, not because it lacked potency.
"I thought you might say it was for self-protection," Dumbledore remarked.
"That's part of it," Kyle admitted. "But it's certainly not for everyday use. What I've learned from the professors suffices for most situations."
Kyle's thoughts drifted. "For example, in my first year, Oren advised always to carry a Broomstick—an incredibly practical ans of self-defense."
"In my second year, Quirrell demonstrated the Fiendfyre Curse in front of , and that's how I learned it."
"In third year, Lockhart, though not the most reliable, gave his notes on mory Charms. That's actually a very powerful tool—it can completely remove soone's resistance."
"The best part is, it's fully compliant with Wizarding law. As long as you don't misuse it, like stealing mories the way Lockhart did, there's no legal issue."
"In fourth year, Lupin... well..." Kyle trailed off, searching his mory. The only thing Lupin had formally taught him was the Patronus Charm, which he'd already mastered before the term began.
"Well, he taught how to identify a Werewolf," Kyle said vaguely, shifting slightly in his seat.
"And Professor Moody in fifth year..."
Kyle faltered again. The Shield Charm ca to mind, but he'd learned that long before Moody's lessons.
At that mont, Kyle realized sothing was amiss. Why was it that all the significant lessons he ntioned ca from those unorthodox professors, while the contributions of the orthodox professors seed negligible?
This didn't sit right...
Dumbledore appeared to notice Kyle's skeptical expression. He shook his head with a small, knowing smile, an inexplicable sense of relief crossing his features. While the Defence Against the Dark Arts professors he had hired each ca with their unique quirks and shortcomings, at least soone—Kyle—had gained sothing genuinely useful from them. Perhaps, Dumbledore mused, his decisions hadn't been entirely flawed after all.
"Every wizard is curious and seeks to explore magic further," Dumbledore said, his tone gentle. "Including myself. It's only natural."
"That's good," Kyle replied.
"Actually, my earlier question was rely out of curiosity," Dumbledore admitted. "No matter your reasons, I will teach you, because I promised... Ah, and this is for you."
He handed Kyle the booklet he had retrieved. "I wrote this a long ti ago. It outlines the fundantal theories you must master to learn the Firestorm Charm."
Kyle accepted the booklet, his eyes scanning the faded cover:
The Evolution of Ancient Runes: Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms
"Ancient Runes?" Kyle asked, intrigued.
"To be precise, Runic Magic," Dumbledore clarified. "It involves inscribing Runes with a wand, using them in place of spells. It is the original form of magic—imnsely powerful but also extraordinarily complex and difficult to control. A single mistake can cause magic to turn against the caster."
"It was precisely this danger that led the founders—Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin—to establish Hogwarts. They believed it essential to teach young wizards to use magic safely."
"Even so, the wizarding population continued to dwindle. It wasn't until centuries later, thanks to the efforts of so exceptionally forward-thinking wizards, that Runes and symbols were replaced with spells and gestures. This shift made magic more accessible and led to a significant increase in the number of Hogwarts students."
"Runic Magic..." Kyle murmured, a thread of unease weaving through his thoughts. He'd long suspected that even with the Ti-Turner allowing contact with people from a thousand years ago, such actions bordered on suicidal.
"So, Professor," Kyle asked curiously, "how many students were at Hogwarts a thousand years ago?"
Dumbledore paused thoughtfully. "According to the records in the Book of Admission, the number ranged from as few as twenty to no more than fifty."
Kyle blinked. "One grade?"
"No," Dumbledore replied seriously. "That was the total number of students."
Kyle's mind churned at this revelation. Fifty students in the entire school—aning ten per house? There wouldn't have been much need for dividing into grades.
"However," Dumbledore said, his tone softening, "you need not worry about such dangers here.
"The first step is to commit the content of this booklet to mory." He tapped the booklet lightly. "Mastering this foundational theory is essential before we can progress to the next stage of learning."
Kyle flipped through the booklet, noting that it was only five pages long.
"How about one week?" Dumbledore proposed. "I can arrange for most of your professors to waive your howork for that ti. If you require more, don't hesitate to say so."
Kyle shrugged lightly. "No problem, Professor. One week is plenty."
"Excellent," Dumbledore said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "In that case, we'll hold our lessons every Saturday at 9 a.m. The password to the office will remain the sa."
"Yes, Professor," Kyle replied, his voice tinged with anticipation.
The prospect of delving into Ancient Runes for the first ti excited him. He would have preferred daily lessons, but since Dumbledore had already set the schedule, there was little more he could do.
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