The days at Hogwarts passed in a steady rhythm, filled with classes, rigorous spell practice, and relentless pursuit of knowledge. Elias Blackthorn had no interest in the trivial concerns of his peers. While others played, laughed, and engaged in meaningless rivalries, he sharpened his skills, pushed his magical boundaries, and sought power in its purest form.
Yet, despite his rapid progress in class, he knew the true depth of magic wasn't taught in Hogwarts' standard curriculum. True power was hidden, buried in history and locked behind restrictions that only a few dared to defy.
Tonight, he intended to change that.
Moving soundlessly through the dimly lit corridors, Elias made his way toward his destination—the Restricted Section of the library. He had planned this carefully. Filch was nowhere near, and the usual patrol patterns of the Prefects gave him just enough of a window.
Arriving at the iron-gated entrance, he examined the protective charms laced upon it. Unlike a foolish student who would try to force their way in, Elias calmly traced his fingers along the enchanted lock, whispering a counter-chant under his breath. The magic pulsed for a moment before yielding. With a soft click, the gate unlatched.
Slipping inside, he ensured the entrance sealed behind him.
The Restricted Section was different from the rest of the library—darker, quieter. Some books whispered unintelligible words as he passed, while others had their pages chained shut, bound by spells to prevent knowledge from falling into the wrong hands. But Elias had no intention of stopping at simple textbooks.
He moved between the shelves, scanning for something that could further his understanding of magical supremacy.
And then, tucked between volumes on ancient rituals and lost arcane arts, he found it.
A blackened dragonhide tome, silver-etched runes shimmering faintly under the dim light.
He could feel the magic radiating from it—ancient, powerful. The kind of knowledge meant to be kept from the unworthy.
With steady hands, he took the book and read its title:
"Hierarchy of Magic."
A perfect find.
Settling into a shadowed corner, he flipped open the tome. A faint pulse of magic rippled from the pages as though acknowledging a worthy reader. This wasn't just a collection of theories—it was a map to true power.
The book outlined something Hogwarts never formally taught: a structured classification of magical strength. While the Ministry had vague rankings for threats and professions, this was something far more profound.
The classification read:
Novice – Magic is weak and unstable, requiring effort for even simple spells. (First to fourth-year students.)
Apprentice – Magic is more controlled, but refinement is lacking. Spells become instinctive, but power remains inconsistent. (Senior students.)
Expert – Most of the wizarding world falls within this level. Spells are cast efficiently, and magic is stable. (Genius senior students, skilled professionals.)
Master – Wizards capable of advanced spellcraft, powerful magical manipulation, and dueling multiple opponents with ease. (Hogwarts Professors, elite Aurors, elite Death Eaters.)
Grandmaster – Wizards whose sheer magical power can shape history. Their presence alone can overwhelm lesser wizards. (Dumbledore, Voldemort.)
Archmage – Those who have reached a legendary status, bending magic to their will as though it were an extension of themselves. (Merlin, Morgana.)
Godhood – A realm beyond mortal limits, where magic transcends ordinary understanding. (Example: The God of Death.)
Elias's eyes darkened as he absorbed the words.
This wasn't just a ranking system—it was a ladder to absolute power.
He immediately began assessing himself.
Even as a first-year, his magical reserves were beyond what was considered normal. Compared to his peers, he was in an entirely different league. He could confidently say he had surpassed Novice and likely Apprentice as well. Perhaps, if he continued honing his control, he could place himself within Expert within a year.
But that wasn't enough.
His grip tightened around the book as his ambition flared.
Grandmaster. Archmage. Godhood. These were the levels that truly mattered. And if he wanted to stand above all, he had to ascend this hierarchy.
He closed the tome and secured it within his robes.
This knowledge would guide him. If he was to take control of his destiny, he needed to climb this hierarchy step by step.
Elias understood that magical power wasn't just about reserves—it was also about control, refinement, and knowledge. Even a wizard with immense reserves would be nothing more than a brute if they couldn't wield their magic with precision.
Hogwarts' standard education was a foundation, but not enough. If he wanted to accelerate his growth, he needed to push beyond the limitations of the curriculum.
His first goal was to expand his magical reserves.
He recalled the book's mention of wizards with extraordinary magical capacity. Dumbledore, Voldemort, and the legendary Archmages had all possessed immense magic pools, but it hadn't simply appeared overnight. It had been cultivated, honed through experience, training, and—most importantly—constant use.
Magic, like muscle, grew with exertion.
This meant using magic as much as possible—spell practice, enchantments, passive mana circulation. Every moment of the day had to become an exercise in magical reinforcement.
Elias rose from his seat, his mind already running through spells that would challenge his control. If he was to truly strengthen his reserves, he had to make spellcasting second nature—something as natural as breathing.
By breakfast, Elias had already begun implementing his plan. Instead of using his hands to pick up his books, he levitated them. Instead of walking without thought, he subtly used magic to lighten his steps, adjusting the force beneath his feet. He even cast minor protective enchantments around himself—nothing overt, just passive defenses woven into his robes.
Magic needed to become an extension of himself—something he wielded without effort.
During Charms class, Professor Flitwick instructed the students to practice the Levitation Charm. While the others struggled with wands shaking in their hands, Elias executed the spell with flawless precision, his feather rising effortlessly.
"Well done, Mr. Blackthorn!" Flitwick beamed. "Such control at your age is remarkable."
Elias merely nodded, uninterested in praise. This was just the beginning.
During Transfiguration, he focused on the theory behind molecular structure and magical energy conversion. McGonagall's sharp gaze lingered on him more than once—perhaps noticing that he absorbed the lessons with unnatural ease.
In Defense Against the Dark Arts, he observed Quirrell. The man's timid demeanor and nervous stammer were as expected, but Elias knew better. Voldemort lurked beneath that facade. It was almost amusing, watching the Dark Lord pretending to be a bumbling fool before a class of children.
Elias made a mental note—Quirrell was not to be underestimated.
Despite his growing strength, Elias had no desire to attract unnecessary attention. Keeping a low profile was key.
He avoided making close connections. Malfoy had attempted to establish a rapport, likely sensing a fellow noble, but Elias only entertained conversation when necessary.
Daphne Greengrass, on the other hand, intrigued him. She was observant, intelligent, and not as easily swayed as the other Slytherins. He noted her cautious approach—she was studying him just as much as he was studying her.
When it came to Harry Potter, Elias remained neutral. He neither sought him out nor antagonized him. Potter was famous, but to Elias, he was just another student.
Ron Weasley, however, was a different matter.
Elias had already decided—he had no desire to associate with the Weasleys. Their blind loyalty to Dumbledore, their disdain for noble families, and their simplistic view of the world made them unappealing. He would rather keep his distance.
As the day drew to a close, Elias returned to the dormitory, his mind still racing with calculations.
He had made steady progress, but it wasn't enough.
He needed more. More knowledge, more techniques—more power.
And if Hogwarts wouldn't provide it, he would simply take it for himself.
His gaze flickered toward the hidden tome in his trunk.