32. Confrontation

waking up to the feeling of ants crawling through your veins isn’t the best. Three out of ten would not recommend. Those were my first thoughts as I opened my eyes to the sight of the infirmary’s ceiling. Taking a moment to center myself I attempted to figure out what was wrong with me, only to be met with the sensation of fire in my veins. 

Focusing a little more on the sensations I realized neither were physical in nature. Add that to the fact that the soreness flared when I attempted to use magic and I concluded that my magic circuits were damaged. 

Hopefully, the damage isn’t too bad or permanent, otherwise I will be pissed. Getting magic only to lose it by acting the hero would be a very bad and unfunny joke. Either way, without more information there is little I can do now, ergo, I need more information. 

As I was about to sit up on the bed the curtain separating my “room” from the rest of the infirmary got pushed aside by madam Pomfrey. Probably an enchantment somewhere in charge of informing her when patients were awake. She looked unamused with me and my situation. 

“How long have I been out?” That was the first of a few questions I wanted to ask and arguably the second most important, right after the state of my magic circuits. 

“A day and a half give  or take a few hours.” The woman answered as she busied herself by pouring a nasty brown looking liquid, probably a potion, in a cup. 

“Drink this, it will help with the soreness.” Taking the cup I didn’t bother looking at the contents as I downed it in a single gulp, even so, the harsh herbal taste coupled with the taste of dirt and rot assaulted my tongue making me cough as my stomach revolted.

“Do not puke it, otherwise you will have to drink another cupful.” Clamping down on the urge to puke through pure will power I managed to get my stomach to keep its contents. Meanwhile, I decided to distract myself by asking my most pressing concern. Or I would have if the madam hadn’t begun answering the question before I could even ask. 

“Your magic paths are recovering. You should make a full recovery in around a week. Although I strongly recommend you don’t use any magic during said week.” Well, that was some very good news in my book. I was about to thank her before I heard a completely unmistakable voice. 

“Your magic should become even stronger than before after you make a full recovery. Although I do not recommend trying something like this again to strengthen your magic.” Dumbledor said in his calm grandfatherly voice. 

I decided to leave that information for later consideration as instead I focused all of my senses. Although magic is a no go right now, I could still use vitality. With my enhanced senses I easily detected three more pressenses hidden around the infirmary. The scent of a cat, that of herbs and potions, and finally the unmistakable scent of professor Flitwick. 

That much made me realize that the following conversation wouldn’t be a simple one. Even more so, when I focused further on my senses. Although faint, I could hear heartbeats and by the cadence of said hearts I could tell of them were ready for things to go south. 

“Professor Dumbledore.” I said, nodding to the man, giving him the floor to initiate the conversation. Although this could set me on the backfoot in the word sparing we would engage in, It also let me more easily conceal the truth, by going along with what information the professor had. 

“Silver, I need you to tell me your version of the events of halloween night. Although we have already asked for your friend’s accounts, it is better to have everyone’s version.” Clever old bastard. With those simple words the man has forced me to provide information while giving me as little of his own as he could. Well, nothing to it. With a sigh I decided to tell things as truthfully as I could. 

“I had stayed until late studying, and so it was late when I was going to the dining hall. I heard screams so I rushed over only to see my friends being attacked by the troll. Worse, the troll was about to turn Harry into paste.” At that comment I could see dumbledor’s expression twitch ever so slightly into a frown. 

“I had no time to cast a spell, so…” I paused. How could I sell this in a way that wouldn’t make me stand out. Truthfully, there is no way. I could make something up, but there were four witnesses having seen me tanking the troll’s attack. Well, time for plan B. Tell them the same lie I told my father. With a sigh I began talking again. 

“I rushed over and blocked the attack with my arms.” Dumbledor’s expression twitched again, this time too subtly for me to know what expresion had tried to escape him. Before I could continue with my recount of the events the professor interrupted me. 

“And how did you manage this?” I could say body reinforcement using magic. It would be credible and wasn’t all that far from the truth. However, something told me they wouldn’t believe it. That is when I got a bold idea, a stupid idea, so stupid it might just work. 

“Well… can you keep a secret professor?” A moment of silence, one in which the heart bits of all the professors increased in cadence. They knew something, or at least, they thought they did. This much was enough to tell me I had made the right decision. They wouldn’t have bought the body strengthening excuse. It was just a second and then professor Dumbledor gave a small nod.

‘It’s showtime’ I thought as I focused. The feeling of ants crawling through my veins that had been subsiding came back with vengeance. I could feel my magic circuit straining against the flow of magic. Not only that, I could even feel my magic leaking more than normal. Like a gas pipe with a tear in it. 

Focusing I began shifting my mana’s wavelength to that of the full moon. This was my idea. If I could transform into my werewolf form at will, and even show some level of control, I could sell them on the idea that had half shifted during halloween night. 

It took a lot of focus, especially so because I was doing my best to contain the shifted mana on my right arm. However, it worked. Slowly at first but picking up speed, my arm transformed. My nails lengthened into wickedly sharp claws and silver fur grew over the limb. Unfortunately, my control began slipping. The damage to my magical circuit made things worse. 

The transformation began crawling up my shoulder then my neck. By the time I chose to stop, I could feel fur on my neck, as well as the slight deformation of my jaw. Half my teeth are being sharpened into fangs. 

It was very well worth it for the sight of professor Dumbledore, slack jawed. Not only that but the other professors had revealed themselves as well, being just as surprised as the headmaster.

With me having stopped the shifting of my mana, the transformation didn’t just stop but reverted in a matter of seconds. Taking advantage of the professor's stunned silence I began weaving lies. 

“As you can see, I am a werewolf. I was bitten when I was six. I learned to control the transformation and can transform either partially or fully at will.” I look at both realization and what looked like relief could be seen in the professor's expressions. The headmaster for his part simply looked content.

Well, it looked like whatever they had thought before I had managed to disabuse them of it. Which is good, as from the reactions so far it probably was something bad. Not to mention, that I should have tried to dodge the questions things could have gotten through. 

“That is… quite something. For now I believe we have taken enough of your time. Although, I do wish we can speak about this further at a later date. Not to mention the need for further clarification and should it be necessary, special accommodations.” And so the professors left me to the tender care of madam Pomfrey. 

What came next was being forced to nap for the next two hours before the madam performed a deluge of tests on me. One of which showed my magical circuit had taken a bit of a hit from the previous demonstration. What followed was a glare from the madam, followed by more disgusting tasting potions. 

The next day I was let go with clear instructions to NOT use any magic for the following week. That was followed by what could only be called a threat from the woman. Afterall, she had told me that she would feed me more potions if I didn’t listen. 

I am extremely grateful that I was let go otherwise I fear my sense of taste might have been permanently damaged by those foul concoctions. What I wasn’t grateful for were the many, MANY rumors going around. Rumors that in my absence had grown out of proportion. Somewhere as insane as saying that I had punched the troll so hard it turned into bloody mist.

What came next was the incessant questions about the event. Questions that I really didn’t feel like answering for the umptinth time. Some were even asking me to show what I had done to the troll which I clearly refused. It took the better part of a month for people to stop hounding me about it. 

Once my magical circuit had fully healed I felt my magic being much stronger. It was easy to know why that was. My magical circuit had expanded by the event, not necessarily in size per se but in girth. Although those terms don’t really fit, it was the best I had to try and describe it. 

This led me to what could only be called masochistic training. Having realized I could abuse my magical circuit to grow, I began to cast spells like mad inside the RoR every day to both exhaust my magic and put as much pressure as I could on my circuit.  

The result was a constant feeling of ants crawling inside my veins and growth for my magic circuit. Unfortunately, I soon discovered that the growth suffered from diminished returns. From the calculations I made, I realized that by my third year I would be seeing either minimal growth using this method or none at all. 

“It is what it is. Better some than nothing.” I mumbled to myself while resting after casting like mad for today. For the time being I had decided to take it easy and let my mind rest for a week before I tackled the werewolf problem again. Either that or another project I wanted done before the start of my second year. 

That second project being all speak. All speak being the name I gave to a glyph arrangement I had thought of. Currently it is still just an idea. In the second year, the basilisk would be freed and only Harry, maybe Sophia, would be able to hear it speaking. I wanted to be able to hear it as well. But why stop at snakes? I decided to make it so I could not only hear, but also speak to any being. Therefore all speak like in norse myths. 

Yeah, Seeing as I had hit a bit of a wall with the werewolf dilema I will be working on all speaking next. Who knows, I might get ideas for the werewolf problem. All of that though would be for tomorrow. Today was about to end and it was time for dinner anyway.