Chapter 13: Fire Magic
Hearing the voice, he immediately put down his work, hurried forward, bowed respectfully, and replied, "Master, what are your orders?"
Edward raised his eyes, the flame at his fingertips swaying gently, reflecting the surging desire in his eyes, even his eyelashes dyed a faint orange.
"How much do you know about fire magic? Also, can I start learning wizard magic now?"
Upon hearing this, Kreacher's face showed a look of embarrassment.
He rubbed his withered hands, his fingertips brushing against his wrinkled skin, his voice carrying a hint of apology.
"Master, Kreacher is a house-elf; he is born with some magic, but that is innate elf magic - no wand, no incantation, completely different from the orthodox magic of Wizards.
Regarding fire magic, Kreacher only knows a little bit; for instance, the ordinary Incendio can light candles and boil water, but this kind of flame in your palm... with such violent aura, Kreacher has never heard of it, nor has he ever seen it."
He paused, as if suddenly remembering something, his murky eyes lighting up suddenly, and he hurriedly added, "But Master! Among the portraits of the House of Black, Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black is very knowledgeable!
He is one of the most famous Headmasters in Hogwarts history and has studied various obscure and ancient magic!
If you are curious about fire magic, you could try to build a good relationship with him, say a few soft words, and he might be able to give you some pointers!
After all, you are of the House of Black lineage; he won't ignore you!"
Edward's gaze fell towards the entrance of the library, which connected to the hallway where Phineas's portrait hung - he remembered it was a man with a cold face, always wearing a black robe, his eyes sharp as if they could see through people's hearts.
He nodded slightly, firmly committing the name to memory.
Kreacher leaned in a little closer, his withered fingers twisting together uneasily, his tone carrying a touch of urgency.
"Also, Master, the start of Hogwarts term is approaching!
You must go to Diagon Alley to purchase school supplies, especially a wand - without a wand, a wizard simply cannot perform real magic!
Even a genius, without a wand, can only have empty magic!
Kreacher can take you there; Ollivander's Wand Shop in Diagon Alley is the most famous!
Every wand there is hand-crafted by Mr. Ollivander and can perfectly match a wizard's magic!"
Edward watched the flame dancing at his fingertips, the flame reflected in his deep eyes like two small fires.
He was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly, his voice calm yet carrying an unshakable determination.
He needed a wand, needed to systematically learn magic, and even more, needed to understand the secret of this "Ember" fire in his palm.
This was the first step on his path to the peak, and the most crucial one.
"Good." A single word, landing in the air, resonant and firm.
"Then let's go to Diagon Alley first." Edward paused, his gaze sweeping over the mountainous pile of ancient books beside him, and added, "Also, help me find some introductory magic books, "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1", "Introduction to magic Basics", and all records about fire magic, whether they are orthodox classics or unofficial anecdotes, I want them all.
From today on, I am going to start learning."
Kreacher's eyes lit up instantly, like a torch being ignited.
He excitedly straightened his hunched body, hurriedly bowed, and replied, "Yes, Master! Kreacher will go prepare right now! "Introduction to magic Basics", "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" - these books are all in the library, Kreacher will find them for you right away!
I guarantee not a single one will be missing!"
Before the words had even finished, he turned and quickly ducked into the gaps between the bookshelves, his withered figure weaving through the towering shelves, his movements eager and nimble, stirring up a flurry of fine dust that danced in the light of the setting sun.
Edward lowered his head again, gazing at the flame in his palm.
The flame swayed gently, its warm light spilling onto the back of his hand, dispelling some of the chill.
The setting sun outside the window gradually sank, the last touch of golden-red afterglow leaking through the stained-glass window, spilling onto the densely packed ancient books, dyeing the pages a warm orange.
The shadows in the library were stretched long and thin, like a road to the peak, paved with thorns and flames.
And for Edward, the true path of learning magic had only just begun.
Morning light pierced through the stained-glass windows of 12 Grimmauld Place, casting mottled light spots on the library floor. Dust motes floated quietly in the beams of light, mixing with the scent of old book ink, exuding a smell of accumulated time. Kreacher held a stack of heavy ancient books, his steps extremely light, as if afraid to disturb the tranquility of the room. He carefully piled the books in a corner of the desk - at the very top was the dark green-covered "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1," with Miranda Goshawk's name printed on the title page, the essential textbook for first-year Hogwarts students. Beneath it were several tattered scrolls of the House of Black's ancestral fire spells, the pages yellowed and brittle, with frayed edges that shed fine dust at the slightest touch.
"Master Edward, I have found all the books you requested!" Kreacher bowed, his withered fingers gently brushing the dust off the book spines, his voice full of reverence. "These are the most basic introductory spells; if you wish to practice, you may begin at any time."
Edward Black reached out and picked up "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1," his fingertips tracing the analysis of the "Lumos" spell, his gaze landing on the words "hold the wand level and recite the spell." He simulated the posture of holding a wand in mid-air, fingers pressed together and extended flat, but hesitated to cast the spell. The miserable scenes from his past in the Muggle world flashed through his mind: the mud under the bridge, the dull pain of fists striking his body, the disdainful looks from those people... He clenched his fists, a flicker of stubbornness flashing in his eyes. He would not be that pathetic kid who had to go to Diagon Alley to learn basic spells; he was the heir of the House of Black and would stand in the view of the magical world as a genius.
"Kreacher, is it necessary to use a wand to practice spells?" He asked, looking up, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the pages, a hint of expectation hidden in his eyes.
Kreacher was taken aback, then quickly nodded, his withered fingers gesturing the posture of holding a wand. "That is natural, Master Edward! A wand is a wizard's second life; without a wand to guide it, magic is like a headless fly, unable to be cast precisely! If you want to practice, Kreacher will take you to Diagon Alley right now, to Mr. Ollivander's wand shop..."
"No." Edward Black interrupted him without hesitation, his tone carrying a hint of unquestionable stubbornness. "I need an old wand to practice the basics first. the House of Black has so many years of heritage; there must be some idle old wands, right?"
Kreacher's eyes lit up, and he quickly patted his head, as if suddenly remembering some treasure. "Oh! Look at my memory! A practice wand that Master Regulus used when he was a child - Kreacher still has it! It is made of oak with a Unicorn hair core; although it is not top-tier, it is enough for practicing basic spells!"