McGonagall's eyes widened at the image before her. After a few words of encouragement from the young boy, the black snake had begun to dip its tail into the black ink and scribble onto the paper, pausing and restarting with unsure but intelligent strokes. By all accounts, this was just a normal black garden snake—one that McGonagall was fairly certain wasn't even venomous. She simply hated Slytherins flaunting school rules and wanted to make an example of the biggest name among the first-year Slytherins. However, this was now a much different situation. Lucas wasn't using a wand and was much too young to even know of the Unforgivable Curses, which left only the black snake he held. Its intelligence was high enough to actually form letters into words.
I smirked at the results of the lessons I had done with Val to help him communicate with Pansy. Because it was tiring to be the translator all the time, I taught Val how to write. It wasn't anything clean—it appeared to be the scribblings of a three-year-old—but it was at least legible. The most astonishing thing was the speed at which Val could learn. Like a sponge absorbing water, everything I explained was immediately implemented in his next attempt to improve. This was the best he could do in only a few days' time, but from having never written to this in just three days? It only proved to me that Val was a very special snake.
When Val was done, he rubbed the end of his tail on the parchment to remove as much of the ink as possible. He looked up at McGonagall and waved the end of his tail in greeting. McGonagall kept looking between Val, the parchment, and me in a cycle—each becoming more unbelievable than the last. I glanced down at the parchment and read what Val had written. It said, "Hi, my name is Val, and I don't bite." I smiled at him and patted his head, giving him another treat.
"Good job," I muttered, glad I didn't have to reveal the frowned-upon language as he quickly gobbled the treat up.
I looked up at the professor with a grin. I knew that smart enough creatures had to be taken more seriously in the wizarding world. Showing Val could write was my way of proving he was intelligent enough to display near-human growth in intelligence. McGonagall's mouth was slightly agape as she carefully studied the parchment, her finger tapping over her lips. After some deliberation, she finally looked back at me with a stern expression.
"I'll explain all this to Dumbledore. It will be up to him to determine if you are allowed to keep your pet."
As soon as my face lit up, she continued.
"However!" she added sharply. "The school can't let your pet's circumstances slide. The very moment other students hear about him, I will do my utmost to remove both you and your snake from Hogwarts. Is that clear, Mr. Peterson?"
I nodded silently, wanting to avoid any further repercussions for myself or Val. McGonagall glanced at Val with a frown before waving toward the door.
"Off you go."
I nodded again as Val slithered back up my sleeve.
Leaving her office, I was bombarded with looks, but my mask was on before I touched the door handle. I was prepared, and my face would show no signs of what had transpired in that room. I sat down beside Pansy, who was watching me out of the corner of her eye. I smirked at her and nodded before getting back to changing my matchstick. Pansy sighed under her breath—likely at my lack of patience—before returning to her own assignment.
Later that day, after Defense Against the Dark Arts, I stayed after class for my private lessons with Professor Quirrell. He moved half of the desks in the classroom to the edges and watched me do the same.
"Mr. Peterson, you have already learned the Levitation Charm?" he asked, raising his brow.
I only lifted one desk at a time to the edge, while Quirrell moved all of his desks at once with ease. I shrugged, noting the difference in our skill.
"I had some time on the train here, and it seemed the most interesting at the moment."
Quirrell nodded while resting his hand under his chin in thought. Quirrell was a bit strange from time to time—the most notable thing being the stutter he willfully put on as an act. However, the more I spoke with him, the more at ease I was in his presence. He was a good teacher when he wanted to be, and I was learning quite a lot from him.
"Well, you have the basics down. I commend you for that in such a short amount of time. However, without trial, one cannot grow. Pick up a second desk."
I frowned, setting the first desk I was already lifting back onto the ground to start again. The idea was strange to me—having my wand not point at either object, yet making them both float regardless. It was like having a string connected to one desk to lift it up, but then adding another line connected to the second desk. I would have to control each one individually—a challenging task to keep them from colliding in the air.
'I would have to connect each object to me and send each one a different amount of energy to float it correctly. I wish I could just—'
Then, I had a sudden idea.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" I chanted, flicking my wand, helping me cast the correct spell. I then guided the tether of the spell to the first desk, and then extended it to the second desk beside it. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of both desks at once. It was much heavier than just one, but it was doable. I nodded, pulling both upwards into the air and gently setting them down in the corner of the room.
A slow clapping from Quirrell drew my attention. I turned to see him smirking at my progress.
"Well done, Mr. Peterson. With only a little prompting, you have already grown much more than the rest of the class."
I thanked him with a smile before moving the remaining desks, challenging myself by adding an extra one each time. My limit was four, but Quirrell commended me and said I would improve with more practice.
"For now, I'm more interested in other spells today. Specifically, the Smokescreen Charm and the Bird Conjuring Charm. Why do you think I have chosen these two?"
I pondered for a moment, trying to find the connection between them. I wasn't sure but said the first thing that came to mind.
"Both make it difficult to focus on the caster?"
Quirrell smirked and nodded.
"Indeed. Both allow the caster to divert their opponent's attention away from themselves, giving you the advantage for your next attack or a quick getaway. Remember—no matter what others may call your actions… living is always the most important…"
He stared deeply into me as he finished his small speech, his gaze carrying a weight of life and death that sent shivers down my spine.
I learned how to make the smoke cover a large area or just myself, providing concealment for just enough time to cast another spell. I also learned more about conjuring. The animals created weren't real in the sense that they were alive. Unlike living creatures with consciousness and thoughts, conjured animals only had a semblance of obedience to their caster. They weren't controlled—they simply existed to follow commands, their minds empty. They would soon fade away once the spell's duration ended.
Knowing that, I felt much more comfortable using these… puppets, for lack of a better term, without the guilt of destroying real creatures. The birds flocked wherever I directed them with my wand, requiring no vocal commands, as they were merely constructs of my magic. It was fascinating, though I still found the almost infinite variety of magical creatures far more interesting.
"Well done, Mr. Peterson," Professor Quirrell praised while returning the desks to their original positions, silently signaling for my help.
I obliged with a smile.
"Thank you for all your help, Professor Quirrell."
"Don't mention it," he replied—a mix of ease and seriousness in his voice, reminding me to avoid mentioning our private lessons to others.
I nodded, placing my wand back at my hip.
"Of course, Professor."