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HP: I have a Proficiency Panel - 128
🕑 Added 2025-11-26 13:23:40 +0000 UTCChapter 128: Fire Salamander
In the cold courtyard,
"Are you sure about this?" Ron asked nervously.
"If another teacher is listening, I do not think he will refuse. Everyone knows he made that rule up on the spot," Harry said, eyes full of determination. What he did not say was that he and Ron were still agonising over how to approach Shawn – they wanted in on that mysterious place as well.
And on top of that, he had just managed to lose Hermione’s book. It was enough to drive anyone mad.
He went downstairs to the staffroom and knocked on the door.
No answer. He knocked again. Still nothing.
Maybe Snape had left the book inside? It was worth a try.
Harry pushed the door open a crack and peered in – and froze at the sight.
Only Snape and Filch were in the room. Snape had hitched his robes up above his knees.
One of his legs was slick with blood, the flesh torn and mangled. Filch was handing him something.
"Vile creature," Snape was saying.
"How are you supposed to watch three heads at once?"
"Oh, try this," Mr Filch said, producing potion and bandages, which clearly took Snape by surprise.
"I do not think—" Snape began.
Then Filch said a name that made his face darken instantly.
"Ah, ah, this is from Green…"
At that, Harry clapped a hand over his own mouth and darted back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shawn slip past the corner of the corridor.
There was a green‑covered book in his hand.
Catching sight of Harry skulking there, Shawn gave him a small nod, indicating that the book Snape had confiscated from the caretaker’s office had already been retrieved.
"Merlin… Shawn…" Harry breathed.
He had just been working out a way to get the book back, and Shawn had already finished the job.
…
What finally put Ron and Harry on exactly the same side was Neville’s performance in Charms.
"Good, very good! Mr Longbottom, outstanding progress!" Professor Flitwick’s delighted squeak was loud enough to lift the classroom ceiling. He hurried to Neville’s side and watched the boy send the little board drifting to and fro, then turn it neatly in two full spins.
The surrounding students stared, wide-eyed, whispering.
Some said Shawn knew a strange spell, that Neville’s daily disappearances were him sneaking off to have Shawn cast it on him, and once you had that spell on you, your brain got much sharper. How else could anyone explain Mr Longbottom’s sudden improvement?
His Levitation Charm progress had surged past that of many other students.
Ron and Harry, for their part, paid even more attention to Shawn than usual. They badly wanted to know whether Shawn would ever take them in.
And Shawn?
Recently, he had been busy with Dark Arts and Transfiguration.
From Thursday onwards, Professor Snape had all but glared at his Dark Arts progress every single day.
Rather like Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Wood demanded that his players devote every spare second to Quidditch training. Snape demanded that Shawn devote every spare second to Dark Arts.
His exact words were:
"Ha. Our arrogant Mr Green thinks himself talented… Let me tell you something, Green. I have seen far too many ‘so‑called’ prodigies," he said, in a tone that could have stripped paint.
"And they all died – because they were stupid enough to waste time on things that did not matter."
So, one way or another, Shawn’s Dark Arts proficiency had taken a sharp leap.
[You practised Sectumsempra once at Expert standard, Proficiency +50]
[You practised Sectumsempra once at Expert standard, Proficiency +50]
…
[Knockback Jinx: Expert (10/9000)]
[Sectumsempra: Proficient (10/3000)]
[Advancement: Three Entry‑level Dark spells will unlock the Entry title in the Dark Arts domain]
Shawn’s Dark Arts domain title was still at Apprentice, but the two Dark spells he knew were already at very high proficiency.
He had even begun working on nonverbal Sectumsempra.
Unfortunately, the Dark Arts seemed to share the same rules as Charms: power and variety had to advance together.
Which was why Shawn was particularly eager for tomorrow’s third Dark spell.
Snape had said that attack power was vitally important, but without control‑type spells – Green, do you really think you can defeat everyone?
So Shawn found himself wondering what kind of spell it would be—Impedimenta, Incarcerous, or the Leg-Locker Curse.
Hogwarts did not have many books on the Dark Arts. Shawn’s store of reliable Dark spells was even smaller.
And in any case, he was not exactly burning with passion for them.
The Dark Arts were certainly a branch of magic with tremendous destructive force, but in terms of raw power, Transfiguration was in no way inferior. In scope and versatility, Transfiguration almost crushed it.
More importantly, Shawn did not dare immerse himself too deeply in Dark magic. It corroded its users, and Hogwarts currently had a Headmaster who was firmly committed to stamping it out.
So, compared to the Dark Arts, Shawn had quite naturally poured most of his time into Transfiguration.
So far, he had mastered intermediate Transfiguration – converting between "inanimate" objects and "living" creatures.
He had also learned some advanced Transfiguration: turning objects into "magic," and Multiple Transfiguration.
Not long after, on the day before the Quidditch match,
Shawn could already turn snow on the ground into a snowman that threw snowballs by itself – though it never lasted long. It always hollowed itself out in the process.
Once it had emptied itself completely, it would sag and crumble into a soft heap.
At the same time, out in the courtyard, Shawn was frowning over a problem: the fire salamander was getting bigger and bigger. Sometimes it was the size of a football.
And it did not listen.
It would shoot into the air, whirl madly around the courtyard, spitting sparks with loud pops and booms.
Because Shawn always cast Quietus on it, it could sneak up on Hermione while she was not paying attention, climb onto her book, and set it alight with a sly little hiss.
It was like Shawn’s opposite, doing all the things he himself would never do.
Justin laughed that this was Shawn’s "inner demon" let loose. Shawn did not entirely agree, because he did not think even a demon would be so vicious as to burn books full of knowledge.
Yet if Shawn tried to make it obey, its body shrank at once, dwindling into a tiny salamander.
He knew that football-sized probably was not its limit. If he stopped holding back and poured all his magic into it, he had no idea what sort of monster he might end up creating.
No wonder Transfiguration had to be handled with such care. Shawn had just gained another very deep understanding of why.
