Magick Moste Potente: Summer 1977

Magick Moste Potente: Summer 1977

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Magic is a force, a constant of the natural world that is part of everything alive on Earth. Magic is neither Good nor Evil, Dark nor Light. It exists outside of morality or judgment. The inherent power of the sun, the planets, fire and water, earth and wind, animal and mankind exists in support of life itself. However, to those who carry the innate ability to summon and channel its power, Elemental Magic is, in its purest form, also perilous, chaotic, unpredictable and exceedingly dangerous.

From The Origins of Magick by Juno Ambrosius Dell

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus

Malfoy's private library surpassed anything Severus could have imagined. The books that surrounded him would never have been found on the shelves at Hogwarts, even in the Restricted Section. As his hands gently caressed the bindings of the ancient volumes, he could feel the magic within them crackle beneath his fingertips.

"It's an impressive collection, isn't it?" Malfoy acknowledged with a smug half-smile. "My agents have spared no effort or expense in finding the rarest of magical texts from around the world."

"They are magnificent," whispered Severus, feeling almost light-headed as the power of the books called to him, the tendrils of the magic within them reaching out seductively.

"Feel free to borrow anything that catches your interest. It pleases me to share them with someone who appreciates their value. And, since you've finished school, I imagine you'd enjoy having access to this...unusual resource."

Something in Malfoy's tone snapped Severus to attention, pulling him away from the siren call of the books. As much as Severus had grown used to and enjoyed the perks of Malfoy's patronage, he had quickly learned that nothing was ever offered or given freely; there was always a price to be paid. Up to this point, Malfoy had seemed content with the small bits of information that Severus had managed to coax out of Lily Evans, in this last year, about her experiences in the Department of Mysteries. To ensure that he could continue to provide this information to Malfoy, Severus had forced himself to swallow his pride and subdue his anger sufficiently, and had apologised to Lily for his behaviour on the night she had helped to save his life. In the end, he found that it wasn't difficult to maintain, at least, the outward appearance of 'friendship' with her. It also helped that Potter and company had ceased their attempts to hex him at every turn, apparently reigned in by their collective guilt over the 'werewolf incident' and Potter's new turn as Head Boy. Being ignored by the Gryffindor cabal had been a relief, and his seventh year passed more peacefully than any previous year.

The year also proved itself notable, nearly enjoyable in fact, as he studied Legilimency and Occlumency under Dumbledore's tutelage. Severus didn't even mind that he had to share lessons with the wolf, who had proven more adept than one might have expected from a lesser being and provided Severus with more than a few challenges. Although Severus knew that he'd never like Lupin, he had grown to respect him. The fact that he'd never admit such regard was as certain as the sun rising each morning.

Severus' peaceful year, however, had come to a crashing finale when Potter stood up on the Gryffindor table at the Leaving Feast to ostentatiously announce his engagement to Lily Evans. As the applause and cheers of classmates broke out around the Great Hall, the wall that Severus had so carefully constructed around his heart nearly toppled, as Lily caught...and held...his eyes for several agonising moments. Somehow, despite the fact that he knew that Lily and Potter had been together all year, the moment still caught him off guard. Those penetrating, green eyes conveyed such an intensity of feeling, that they sliced cleanly through his carefully wrought wall and nicked at his heart, inflicting an indescribable sense of loss. Tearing his eyes away from Lily, he noted that several of his fellow Slytherins were eyeing him curiously. Severus forced his face to assume a mask of indifference and devoted more attention to his pudding than it deserved.

The next day, as the seventh-year students bid farewell to Hogwarts for the last time and looked towards their futures, Severus arrived in Wiltshire to spend the first few weeks of his summer as a guest of the Malfoys.

At the beginning of his third week, Lucius asked him if he'd like to see his library. And now, standing in the middle of this magical miracle, Severus instinctively sensed that the time was rapidly approaching when Malfoy would ask him for far more.

*******

It was a beautiful summer day, and Severus and Malfoy sat on the veranda of Malfoy Manor overlooking the gardens, each sipping a glass of Malfoy's finest elf-made wine. A light breeze cooled the air and made the blossoms ripple under the sun. As he lifted his glass to his lips, Severus studied Malfoy discreetly through his lashes. He was impressed, not for the first time, with the man's grace and his ability to always seem so confident, so comfortable in his skin. Severus knew that he would never manage to look...or feel...like that.

Lucius stretched out like a cat in the sun. "So, Severus, what are your plans for the rest of the summer?" he asked.

"I will be investigating a few offers of employment that I have received. I expect to begin working shortly."

"Has Dafwyd contacted you?" Malfoy asked with a casual lightness.

Of course, thought Severus. He's already arranged it. He should have guessed.

"He has. He's asked me to Apprentice with him. I am considering the offer."

Malfoy nodded, looking pleased. "You should, Severus. He's a good man. You'll learn a lot from him. Working in his Apothecary would also provide you with opportunities to work on some... special projects."

Severus just smiled in reply, trying to parse the meaning behind Lucius' words.

"Speaking of offers," Lucius said, once again in an off-hand manner, "have you considered ours?"

Severus took another sip of wine and considered how best to respond. His first offer to become a Death Eater for Voldemort had been made when he arrived at Malfoy Manor. Two more offers would be made...three in all. Severus had learned that there were significant but unnamed 'consequences' to those who refused to unconditionally accept by the third time.

Severus finished the rest of the wine in his glass and set it down on the table. "Yes, I have considered it. I - I think, however, that it is not yet the right time to officially accept this distinguished honour. Perhaps, after I have established myself, I hope that we might discuss it again."

"I think that is a wise decision, Severus," Lucius said with an agreeable nod.

Severus felt the tightness in his chest relax, relieved that he hadn't angered or alienated his patron.

"You'll be much better suited after you've had some time to become adjusted to your new position. In fact, having you in a place to develop your Potions mastery will serve us well, even in an...unofficial capacity."

Lucius smiled, holding up the bottle, which glinted red in the sunlight. "More wine?"

"Please," he replied, and Malfoy filled his glass. Severus noticed that the breeze had disappeared and the day had become just a bit warmer.

---

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In earliest prehistory, that natural force was known as Wilde Magick. To those unfortunate enough to chance a spontaneous encounter with a surge of Wilde Magick, it was almost always fatal, akin to being struck by lightning. In later ages, to the rare few who managed to survive such an encounter, or who summoned this force deliberately in conjunction with the oldest rites and rituals, it was called Ancient Magick.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lily

The highlight of Lily's summer, after completing her final year of study at Hogwarts as Head Girl and her engagement to James, was her formal acceptance into the Department of Mysteries as an Apprentice Unspeakable to Esmé Wentwhistle, Head of the Special Study Division. The ceremony where she took her final Vows of Secrecy was a solemn and beautiful rite, and one that Lily wished she could have shared with James and her parents. Happily, Corran Masten, the man who had sponsored her, had stood as a witness and helped to seal the magic that would protect her and their work from interference by the outside world.

For even the Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold, wasn't privy to what occurred inside the Department of Mysteries. Only the Unspeakables held those secrets and understood the power underlying their work with Elemental Magic.

On Lily's first official day, Esmé walked her through the Department's many Divisions. Each time they left one Division and returned to the main hall, its round wall of doors spun around them, reminding Lily of a carnival ride she'd once been on as a child. She didn't like the feeling of vertigo any better now than she had then.

When the room stopped spinning, Esmé took her arm and ushered her through another door to yet another of the Divisions. Lily wondered how long it would take her to learn how to navigate this puzzle of a place.

Esmé guided her through a room that held, in its centre, a large tank containing some floating matter. Lily was astounded to recognise it as human brains.

"The need for secrecy extends between Divisions as well," said Esmé as Lily stood, mesmerised by the floating cartilage. "Although it is permissible for us to enter any Division's exterior rooms such as this one, the inner rooms, where the research occurs, are strictly off limits. Only those that work within a Division truly know the matter under study." Esmé leaned in towards Lily to speak in a whisper. "Of course, rumours do leak out about what goes on in other areas. I can't verify the truth of this one, but I heard that we are close to revealing a new potion that will ease the transformation process for werewolves."

This news sent a thrill through Lily.

"That would be incredible, Esmé! Do you think it's true?" she asked, thinking of Remus.

Esmé shrugged with an enigmatic smile.

It would be wonderful if there were hope for some measure of relief in store for her friend. Of course, she was dismayed that she couldn't share this news. For this information had to be, like everything else about her work, kept secret.

******

Lily was overwhelmed with the array and diversity of subject matter she saw as she walked from room to room: the swirling planets; the wall of Time-Turners; the rows upon rows of orbs in the Hall of Prophecy; the strange, tattered veil hanging at the base of the stone-seated amphitheatre; and a greenhouse so large and diverse with plant matter that it would set Professor Sprout squealing with envy.

"Are there any similarities between the Divisions? Are we working towards some common purpose?" Lily asked.

Esmé nodded. "Each of the subject areas represents one of the basic forms of Elemental Magic: the Universe, the Mind, Time, Organic Matter, the Spirit or Soul..."

"That's Corran's Division, isn't it?" interrupted Lily.

Esmé affirmed this with another nod.

"Why is our Division known as 'Special Study'? It's such an odd name. It could mean anything!"

"Have you noticed that our entrance is the only one locked...the only one not accessible from the main hall?"

Lily nodded, remembering the sequence of spells she'd been taught to recognise and gain access into her Division.

Given the number of years Esmé had worked here, Lily was surprised to see a look of wonder appear on her face. "It is sealed because our work is the most sensitive of all the subjects under study in the Department. It is safer for everyone if it appears a bit...obscure. Some of us call it 'Heart Matter,' others call it 'Love.' The power of what we study is difficult to describe or capture by something as imperfect as words.

"But to answer your question, we do share a common goal. Each Division has methods of harvesting the Magic from each of our subject's source, that permit it to be studied. And we all conduct experiments with trace amounts of that energy to develop applications that will benefit our world: new spells, potions, charms, objects and so forth. Most importantly, every one of us has learned to respect the Magic in our custody. We never take it for granted."

Like a light snapping on in a darkened room, the full implication of their work, and the need for absolute secrecy, hit Lily in a rush of understanding. Her mouth suddenly felt dry.

"That Magic, that energy we draw upon and use, is volatile...unstable," she whispered.

The threat of the growing darkness and evil that loomed on the periphery over both the wizarding and non-magical worlds took a sickening shape in Lily's mind like a poisonous cloud. "If people were to know about it, or worse, to get their hands on it, it could be devastating...."

Esmé looked at her with a wistful, almost sad smile. "In the wrong hands, or just in ignorant hands, that power, if unleashed, could destroy the world."

---

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The invention of the hollowed and cored wand in the era we now call the 'Middle Ages' replaced the solid, wooden staff used by Shamans and Priests in earlier periods. The smaller and more flexible wand proved more durable and less prone to destruction than its more primitive antecedent. It also had the benefit of amplifying the power of the intent behind the casting of spells, its magical core conducting power more efficiently, and providing less resistance to the Magic that flowed through it. The cored wand functioned as an extension of the wizards' central nervous system, but did so more safely, since the actual connection to the power of the Magic occurred within the wand itself, outside the caster's body. This most important development in conducting Magic meant that Wizards survived, for the first time, to live dramatically longer lives.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Peter

After completing his studies at Hogwarts, Peter settled comfortably back into his childhood home. At first he enjoyed his mother's fawning and fussing, but eventually, as it always did, it became tiring. He had been home only a month when he became irritatingly bored with himself and annoyed with his mother and finally realised that he needed to find a job and move out. However, actually taking the steps necessary to make these things happen was more than a bit daunting; he'd never lived fully on his own before and had, moreover, earned Professor McGonagall's disapproval by never settling on a career plan in their sessions. The truth was that Peter had never been much good at seeing past the nose on his face, thinking that there would be plenty of time to think about his future 'later.' It didn't take long for him to realise that 'later' had indeed arrived and was now staring at him, impatiently, waiting for a decision.

While he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life, Peter was clever, and he knew what he didn't want. And what he didn't want was to feel useless and dominated by his mother for the rest of his life. So, at James' suggestion, Peter had sent an owl to Lily to ask for her help and was delighted when she arranged an interview for him at the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Transport.

******

Peter had never set foot in the Ministry of Magic before. He had heard Lily's detailed descriptions of the Atrium entrance, the Fountain and the flying memos, but they paled in comparison to the reality of the wondrous place. As he entered the grand hall for the first time, Peter felt that this was a place where he could fit in, belong to, and do something important.

Stepping onto the lift, he consulted the scrap of parchment that Lily had sent.

Department of Magical Transport

Floo Network Authority – Sixth Floor, Room 621

Mr. Antiocus Sheffield, Director

21 July - 9:30 a.m.

Peter's nerves were in full flight. He wiped his sweaty palms across the new robes his mother had bought him, and his stomach began to squawk like an angry owl.

Pull yourself together, Pettigrew!

As the lift called out his floor, Peter sucked in a deep breath, smoothed down his hair, and adjusted his robes, then left the cab to bravely meet his future.

******

The Floo Network Authority was located in a giant room, filled with so many small cubicles that it brought to mind a rabbit warren. Peter was scurrying after his guide...a Mr. Polopolus...who had suddenly appeared at his side and was now escorting Peter to his interview. He had to walk fast to keep pace with the man who was providing Peter with a running commentary on their operations.

"Over there is Miss McKenny," Mr. Polopolus said, pointing to one of the cubicles. "She oversees the manufacture and distribution of Floo Powder. Big responsibility, that is."

Miss McKenny looked up from her mountain of parchment at the sound of her name and gave Peter a wink as they passed. She was a very pretty witch, and he blushed.

"These are the offices," said his guide with an expansive but unspecific gesture, "of our Regulatory Panel staff. About seventy-five work in that area. All approvals for fireplace connection requests go through there, of course.

"Over there is our International Unit. Rather self-explanatory, I'd say.

"Down this hall is the Network Logistics Service...the area you're applying for. Ah, here we are. Step inside and Mr. Sheffield will be with you in just a moment." And just as quickly as he'd arrived, Mr. Polopolus was gone.

"Thank you, sir," said Peter to the now-empty doorway, practically panting from his whirlwind tour. He turned and stepped into a small room that was furnished with only a small desk and two chairs. The room had no windows but was well lit; Peter wondered where the light was coming from. He sat down and then sprang back to his feet as an elderly wizard entered the room.

"Sit down, Mr. Pettigrew," said the man, gesturing to one of the chairs. Peter sat. The wizard looked to be only slightly younger than Dumbledore, Peter thought, but his long beard was flecked with black, and he had absolutely no hair on his head.

"I'm Director Sheffield, Mr. Pettigrew." He pulled out, unrolled, and quickly perused a parchment. "Yes, I see you are applying for a Regulator position in our Logistics Service. Do you have your curricula vitae with you?"

Peter handed over a scroll that contained his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. grades as well as recommendations from Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. Fortunately, Peter had passed his final year in Arithmancy, Transfiguration and Charms with reasonable grades, all of which were required for this position.

******

After the initial interview, Peter was escorted to the Logistics Section and handed off to its Supervisor, Broderick Stemwithers. Stemwithers was an average-size man with an average sort of face, appearing to be of average age and wearing the usual Department robes of dark brown. The only thing that stood out as being definitely not average were the man's shoes, which were astonishingly shiny, purple and made of dragon-hide.

"Applying to work with us, Mr. Pettigrew?" Stemwithers asked in a moderately deep voice.

Peter forced his eyes away from the sight of Mr. Stemwithers' amazing shoes. "Um, yes, sir. I hope so!"

"We'll see, won't we?" Stemwithers said with a kind smile. "Come this way and have a look at what we're up to, Mr. Pettigrew!"

Peter followed Mr. Stemwithers into a large, darkened room that was circular in shape. The workers sat at desks that formed an inner circle, facing the walls of the room. Overhead, projected onto the walls and monitored by the workers, were adjacent rectangles of lights, covered with layers of thin phosphorescent beams in at least a dozen different colours, each criss-crossing one another in no discernable pattern.

"What is that?" Peter asked, both amazed and perplexed.

"It's the Floo Network, young man!" boomed Mr. Stemwithers with evident pride. "Each rectangle corresponds to a different section of the country, and each beam corresponds to a connection link within that section. Have you ever been on the Muggle Underground?"

"Once, sir," said Peter, in awe of the complexity of a system he'd always used but never thought much about.

"Yes, well, it's a bit like that."

As Peter looked from panel to panel, he had a sudden flash of understanding. "You have to make sure the Network doesn't get all choked up or people would be bumping into each other, wouldn't they?"

Mr. Stemwithers chuckled and nodded with approval. "Or splinched together! Very astute observation, Mr. Pettigrew. It is our responsibility to make sure the Floo connections remain clear and flowing. Ah, watch Miss Simmons over there...she's spotted a problem." Stemwithers pointed to a section of an overhead Floo map, and Peter could see that a round dot had appeared in the middle of a green beam of light, which was growing larger and darker. "There is a blockage in the energy flow in that sector."

A witch, a tall, dark-haired woman of about twenty-five, stood at her desk and pointed her wand towards the 'problem' on the map and uttered an incantation. Peter noticed that she held her wand with both hands and a thin beam of white light was pulsing from its tip. As she continued to chant and hold her wand steady, the light stretched out until it made contact with the round, green dot. Slowly, the dot shimmered, and then grew smaller until it finally disappeared, leaving the straight, green beam whole and unbroken.

"Well done, Miss Simmons!" Mr. Stemwithers said with an approving smile.

"Thank you, sir. That sector in Manchester's been acting up all week. I think we should send someone to check for an energy leakage."

"Put it in your report, Miss Simmons." He gestured towards Peter. "Mr. Pettigrew here is applying for a position with us. Perhaps you can explain what just occurred."

Miss Simmons smiled at Peter, whose eyes were as wide as a Great Horned owl. "First time here, is it?"

Peter nodded. "It's incredible!"

"I remember being gobsmacked my first time, too." She nodded in understanding. "It's a bit much to see so much magic in one place!"

Peter was impressed that everyone seemed to take such pride in their work. He would be proud too, he thought suddenly, if he could get a job here!

"Well," continued Miss Simmons, "Floo connections are like magical chutes, or tunnels, except that they're made of magic. The Floo powder activates the magic, along with the spoken destination. It follows the same principles as Apparition, except the Network holds the magic instead of the person.

"Each Floo connection has a series of assigned stops, or grates. You can see them pass by if you peek a bit during your trip. And of course, there are hand-offs from one connection to another. Say you want to travel from London up to Newcastle: you'd be passing through about five different Floo connections to arrive at your final destination.

"So it's our job to make sure the magic flows uninterrupted. That's what you just watched me do: there was a leak in that connection and I had to fix it. But if it's a continuous problem, we need to send Repair to the site to do it directly."

"But what causes the problems?" Peter asked.

"Lots of things can cause energy leaks or fluctuations," said Miss Simmons with a smile, clearly enjoying the chance to explain her work. "Sometimes bits of things fall out of folks' pockets during transport and clog up the system. Sometimes a bad storm will disrupt the flow. Other times the Muggle utilities will decide to move some power line and muck things up."

Peter frowned in confusion. "Why should the Muggle...thing...be a problem?"

Mr. Stemwithers chuckled again. "The Ministry decided to lay out the Floo Network to avoid Muggle utilities: electricity, gas, water lines and so forth. Since the magical properties of the elements that run through their system could interfere with our operations, we need to make sure that our Network and theirs don't cross paths. Despite our best precautions, though, it happens from time to time. There was a blackout in South London a few years ago when their electrical grid came into contact with the Network. It left the poor Muggles without power for days! The problem runs both ways, but we're the ones that have to keep an eye on it.

"Thank you, Miss Simmons," he said with a nod as he led Peter away, and the witch returned to her work. "So, what do you think, Mr. Pettigrew? Do you think you would like to join our little team?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically. He could feel the magic in the room pulsating, connecting not only the Floo Network, but also the people who worked here. He didn't know why he felt drawn to it, but suddenly, he knew that it was something he had always wanted.

"Oh, yes. I'd be honoured if you'd let me be a part of this," said Peter sincerely. "I'll do my very best for you, sir! You can count on me!"

---

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

However, in living longer lives, Wizards made a terrible discovery. The longer they spent summoning and channelling their physical and spiritual power to connect to and control Elemental Magic, they found the Magic itself began to consume them, to destroy their spiritual self. The Wizard would, over time, exhibit both an increase in power and a type of mania that removed their ability to empathize, to feel, to see others as individuals. The majority of Wizards and Witches, who actively practiced Magic by the methods and procedures that had been established up to that time, found that they eventually lost their grip on...essentially...what it was to be human. If the ability to conduct magical energy itself was a quality of the soul, this descent into madness was seen as a spiritual malady...a warping of the soul.

Seeing the devastation around them and alarmed at their own vulnerability to this terrible malady, some Wizards and Witches began to voluntarily limit their use of Magic, and others abandoned the practice of Magic altogether. For those already afflicted, outbursts of increasingly delusional and powerfully violent behaviour would inevitably put everyone within proximity of the affected Wizard at risk of harm. It therefore became the responsibility of the family or community to contain and neutralize them. It has been theorized that the Imperius spell became more commonly used during this period, as an aide to help families control their devastated loved ones. Others were transfigured into animals, objects or Guardian Trees, planted at gravesites. The most famous of these so incarcerated is reported to have been the Wizard Merlin, who was confined in his later years in an oak tree by his Apprentice Nimüe.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lily

At the end of her first week as an Apprentice Unspeakable, Lily sat in Esmé's office listening to her mentor describe the long-term dangers of using older, 'Elemental' Magic with growing alarm. Lily had always considered that her ability to connect to people as an Empathic was due to her willingness to give up some part of herself, some spiritual part, in order to make that connection.

"Will I be affected? Am I in danger?" Lily asked, her heart skipping beats in her chest. "What will happen to me over time?"

Esmé took a moment to consider how best to respond to her Apprentice, tapping her fingers on her mahogany desk. This was a critical lecture for all new Unspeakables, but Lily was different. Indeed, it was her 'difference' that made her so valuable to the Division. She could take their work so much farther than they had ever been able to go.

"Your ability, Lily, is a rare and extraordinary gift. It is, as you correctly surmise, a form of older, Elemental Magic. However, your practice of this magic creates an opposite response to the one that would affect the rest of us. Rather than your spiritual or psychic self being affected, as it would others, yours is...enhanced."

Lily was both relieved and surprised. As a student, she'd always suspected that when she left school there would be more to learn about the world she felt so privileged to be a part of. And now, she caught a glimpse into the depth of its mysteries for the first time.

"However, you must still be circumspect in your use of this magic, Lily," Esmé cautioned. "The barriers that you have learned to erect on a daily basis are critical; to maintain control of your gift is imperative, for even this type of magic could turn and use you in other ways. At best, you might find your emotions clouding your judgment, affecting your ability to make good, objective decisions. At worst, you could lose yourself to another kind of madness. Rather than being stripped of empathy or developing permanent paranoia, you could become, instead, pure feeling, only able to reflect the human feelings of others around you. Your own essence could be totally subsumed, and the 'Lily' that you and I know would be lost. As you get older and your magical powers increase, the risks increase as well."

The thought of losing herself in this way was terrifying. "Have other Empathics worked here?" Lily asked hoarsely. "Is that how you know how it will affect me?"

"Only one other. She established this Division. Have you heard of Perenelle Flamel?"

Lily thought back to her studies and shook her head. "No, I don't think so." Her mind careened wildly from thought to thought, truly frightened as she began to understand the dangers they faced. "But what about everyone else? What do you and the others do to protect yourselves?" Lily asked.

Esmé smiled. "Excellent question. As you now understand, all of us who work in the Department of Mysteries tap into and use the oldest and most basic of all magical energies to fully understand the objects of our study. We must do this in order to better understand those energies and to devise new ways of using them, but we do it sparingly and under carefully controlled and supervised conditions. In addition, every two months we undergo mandated Spiritual Healing and Counselling sessions to monitor our physical and psychic health, and we rotate assignments within our Division to lower the overall risk, as some assignments require more use of Elemental Magic than others."

"Has that kept you safe?"

"In the last three hundred years, only five Unspeakables have been lost, relegated to St. Mungo's for permanent care. I'd say it's worked pretty well, but the risks are real, and we don't take them lightly."

They sat in silence for a moment, to consider all that had been said.

Finally, Esmé stood. "Are you ready to move on to the...heart of the matter?" she asked, chuckling at her own pun.

Lily, her mind still reeling, stood as well. She took a deep breath. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It became the work of Magical Scholars for generations to find a way to practice Magic that did not lead to the progressive madness that threatened them all. In the end, they discovered that the unchanged, ancient practice of Magic itself was the key: conducting magic by drawing on the caster's combined physical and spiritual energies meant that the magical elements of nature still controlled the user. If the progression to madness was, basically, a 'spiritual' malady, the solution, therefore, was to reconstruct the way one conducted Magic by removing the psychic or spiritual 'self' from the casting of spells.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lily accompanied Esmé down one nondescript hallway after another, trying to make a mental map of where she was, but after the fifth turn, gave it up as a lost cause.

"Don't worry; you'll learn your way. We all do!" Esmé reassured Lily in her usual perfunctory tone. They entered another door and started down another hallway.

"So how's that young man, your soon-to-be husband? James, isn't it? Is he keeping himself busy while you are at work?"

Lily was taken aback by Esmé's sudden shift to the personal, but smiled. "Yes. James is fine. Wonderful, in fact." Lily paused as she felt herself blush, thinking about their last weekend together. "Um, James is plotting some grand business scheme with his best friend, Sirius, to develop some 'useful' inventions, as he calls them."

"Ah, so the two of you will have a lot in common. Except for the fact that he can talk about his inventions and you can't!" Esmé smiled ruefully.

Happy that Esmé was willing to indulge in some personal conversation, Lily sensed an opening. "If I'm not being too forward, are you married?"

"Forever, I think," replied Esmé with a nod. "His name is Gawain. Sixty years."

"Is it hard...in a marriage...not to be able to share... to talk about.... " Lily stammered, unable to find the right words.

"To keep secrets from your husband?"

Lily nodded.

Esmé stopped besides an ugly brown door and turned to Lily, her face softening. "Like everything important in a marriage, it always comes down to trust, my dear. Gawain understands that my work is a part of my life that he can't share, other than accompanying me to the odd, boring social gathering." Esmé placed a hand gently on Lily's shoulder. "I've found it helps to develop relationships with colleagues. You'll find that many of us here have become very close friends. You need to think of us as your family, in that way. We're the ones you can talk to about your work. I hope you'll be comfortable coming to me, or to Corran, at any time."

Lily felt as if a weight had been removed, and she realised that she'd been harbouring this concern for some time. She was grateful for older woman's offer. "Thank you, Esmé."

Esmé pointed her wand at the brown door with a slight furrow to her brow as she concentrated.

"Ready, my dear?" Without waiting for a response, Esmé incanted the spells to permit them entry.

As they walked through the door, it closed quietly behind them. Lily found herself standing in a dark, nearly pitch-black space of indeterminate size, illuminated only by what appeared to be a sky full of twinkling stars.

"This is the Storage Room, where the Donor specimens are maintained and cared for."

There were five primary functions in the Division which gathered and studied the essence of what Esmé had called 'Love.' That essence, Lily discovered with more than a little awe, came from willing Donors at the time of their deaths.

The 'Harvester' had the most dangerous of jobs: to cast the spell that released the magical element from the Donor and capture it for study.

The 'Recorder' was the liaison with the family making the donation and documented the link between the Donor and the element.

The 'Archivist' managed the storage and retrieval of elements needed for research, from the room where Lily and Esmé currently stood.

The 'Researcher', the second most dangerous function, worked directly with the magical element to experiment with and study its properties.

And lastly, the 'Inventor' worked to develop practical applications based on what the study of those properties had revealed.

Lily would rotate through each of these functions, and she was excited to try them all. But now, as she stared at the glittering lights above her, a feeling of wonder draped over her like a warm cloak.

"Are those the..." she started, but began to sway as she was suddenly overwhelmed by the energy permeating the room.

She felt Esmé's steadying hand on her arm.

"Is it too powerful in here for you, Lily?" Esmé asked with some concern.

Lily shut her eyes and, with several deep breaths, brought down the curtain barrier in her mind that would shield her from the flow of emotion assaulting her.

"I'm - I'm all right. It just...caught me by surprise. I'll be ready next time."

"What was it like?"

Lily turned and was surprised to see an expression of childlike curiosity on Esmé's face.

"Um, I - I don't know if I can describe it." Lily thought hard to find the words. "Pure 'love.' It's - it's like being bathed in warm light." Lily started shaking, as the after-effects of the full-on demonstration of this power. "But, it's seductive, too. A bit unnerving."

"Remarkable," Esmé whispered, impressed. "Let me retrieve one for you. Don't worry," she added, "it can't be opened in here."

Suddenly, a parchment filled with undecipherable symbols appeared in Esmé's hand. With her wand, she tapped one of the symbols on the parchment, and then pointed towards the ceiling. Nothing seemed to happen, but then, slowly, one of the 'stars' descended towards them, floating down to land in Esmé's outstretched hand.

It looked like a locket, about the size of a walnut. It glowed with light, it was silver in colour and heart-shaped, and had the same strange symbol etched on its surface.

Esmé tapped her wand onto the rune of the object, and Lily saw one of the symbols on the parchment rearrange itself into written words.

"The symbols on the parchment match the specimen to the Donor so we can know to whom it belonged." She glanced at the object and, speaking softly, read from the parchment. "This small one belonged to a child. His name was Devon Waverly and he was eight years old. He died from a sudden illness about fifty years ago, before Healers had a cure for his affliction. He was loved by a large family."

Lily stood transfixed by the image of a little boy, surrounded by his family, their laughter and their love. There was something comforting, she thought, about preserving this personal information.

Esmé then demonstrated her ability to answer Lily's question before she'd had a chance to voice it aloud. It was something, Lily thought, she'd have to get used to.

"We document and maintain the connection between the element and the specific Donor because it creates a magically powerful triad: the Unspeakable, the Donor, and the Element. It is also our way of acknowledging and honouring the essence of the individual and their gift."

Esmé placed the heart-shaped object into Lily's hand. With her protections firmly in place, she turned it over reverently, still able to feel the traces of the astonishing power contained inside such a small thing.

"Do the families or the Donors know what they are giving?" Lily asked, understanding a bit more about what moved Esmé about this work.

Esmé shook her head. "No, they don't. They can't, for reasons you now understand. But they're told it's for research, that it's a gift from them to their brethren. That seems to be enough."

With another tap and wave of her wand, the essence of little Devon flew back to join the other stars twinkling above.

---

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By separating the physical from the spiritual, the Magical community had to learn a new way of practicing Magic, one that evolved from...and was based on...the older, more ancient practice. This led to the separation of forms into what we now refer to as 'Magic' and 'Dark Magic.' In its original form, as we have seen, Dark Magic was not inherently evil, merely chaotic and unpredictable. All Magic was Dark Magic. The fact that those who continued to use the older practice of Magic were observed to have an increase in their psychic power along with its cumulative attending madness, in which the afflicted seemed to hold no conscious awareness of what we understand in modern terms as 'right' and 'wrong' or morality, helped to contribute to the misunderstanding that Dark Magic was the province of those inclined to amoral or evil intent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus

If there had ever been a more perfect moment in his life than this, Severus couldn't think of one. The as-yet-untrodden path of his future lay open before him. There would be important choices to make soon, but he had carved out a bit of time before he'd be called upon to make them. For now, he relished living in absolute solitude, sitting with teacup in hand on the windswept porch of his grandparents' cottage, nestled atop a cliff and overlooking the turbulent sea below, far away from the demands and torments of others.

The small house was his, claimed when he reached majority and was able to Apparate. For the house was unreachable by any other means, designed for its seclusion and made unplottable by his mother's parents. While others knew of his residence on Spinner's End, Severus sensed that there might come a time when he'd need a place unknown to others, and he intended to keep this location absolutely private and secret. This was also the only place that resonated with any positive childhood memories. Although he had only been here with his mother on a precious few occasions, the images were still strong and soothing: his grandmother plying him with biscuits; running unfettered in the sunlight; hearing his mother's rare and easy laughter.

It was early morning, and the late-summer sun was already glinting in the waves of the Channel. Severus checked his watch and drained the remainder of his tea. Quickly dispatching the breakfast fixings and dishes to where they belonged, Severus stepped outside the cottage and Disapparated to begin his day at Amberson's Apothecary.

*******

"Good mornin', Severus," said Seamus as his Apprentice entered the shop, alerted by the little bell attached to the door that jingled to announce his arrival.

He was pleased to be working for Seamus Dayfwyd, a short and affable man who sported a riot of dark brown curls atop his head that fairly bounced as he walked. Importantly to Severus, Seamus was knowledgeable, had a well-stocked laboratory and, for the most part, left him alone.

"Good morning, sir. Shall I check on the stores and prepare the list of needed ingredients?"

Seamus beamed. "Yes! Yes, that would be splendid!" he said with a vigorous nod that sent his curls flying. "There's a new supplier who tells me he has a splendid batch of dragonfly wings that I should take a look at. I'm meeting with him later, so I'll pick up our replenishments while I'm at it. Thank you, young man!"

With a nod, Severus made his way to the laboratory and set to work.

*********

It was early afternoon when Seamus interrupted Severus from the reverie of brewing a batch of Pepper-Up potion. He held out a piece of folded parchment.

"Owl message for you, my boy."

He took it, and Seamus returned to the front of the shop.

Unfolding the message, he tensed as he recognised the curling hand of Lucius Malfoy.

Severus,

Have it ready by 3:00 p.m. today.

LM

With a flick of his wand, the missive burst into flames and disappeared into ash.

A week ago, Malfoy had appeared in the shop to place a 'special order.' Severus knew without being told that this would be the first of several 'special orders' for him to prepare, outside the scope of his routine Apprentice responsibilities.

That visit was followed by a delivery of special ingredients. The kind that Seamus did not, and probably would never, stock in his usual inventory, along with a book that Severus had seen in Malfoy's library, bookmarked to the page that provided the receipt for this particular potion. A quick glance at the text set Severus' heart racing, and his usual steady hands began to shake.

Aduro Sanguineum.

A potion intended to cause a slow and agonising death. Once administered, the victim's blood would heat slowly, and then increase to an untenable temperature, causing the vessels to melt and the heart, eventually, to explode.

Severus was aghast as he contemplated what he was being asked to create and horrified as he pictured how it might... no...would be used. Yet, this was a 'request' he knew he could not refuse. It was part of the unspoken agreement that he had made the day when Malfoy first appeared at Spinner's End. He had sealed that bargain when he accepted Malfoy's sponsorship and now, as he had expected, payment had come due.

Oddly, though, as he continued to stare at the list of ingredients, the more they became, well, just ingredients.

A pinch of this, a dram of that. Nothing he hadn't done before.

It wouldn't be that difficult, he thought.

I can do this.

And he did.

And, as he came to incant the transformative spells as described in the ancient book, the ones that called upon the oldest of Magic, he was surprised to feel...elation. Something deep within him, a part of his soul, was called forth to mingle with the aspects of this brew to create the final potion. When he completed his unspeakable task, a tingling sensation filled his body, like remnants of an electrical current. Then, as if he'd quickly consumed a glass of firewhisky, a rush of pure energy filled his head with such power it was intoxicating.

*********

At precisely 3:00, Severus heard the door open, and he stepped into the shop to greet Lucius Malfoy. Seamus was out on his rounds and Severus wondered if it was more by design than accident that Seamus was never around when Lucius appeared.

"Severus," Lucius said briskly, his usual affable persona replaced with a more businesslike demeanour.

Severus pulled a small box from a top shelf. Again, feeling the tingling sensation pulse in his fingers, he handed it to Lucius.

"I think you'll find it satisfactory," he said with a feeling of pride and accomplishment at succeeding at this first challenging task. The Magic of the potion pulled at him, creating an instant yearning to create and touch that Magic again.

Lucius opened the box and held up one of the phials, shaking it so that its components mixed to form a deep, swirling purple colour. He smiled as he returned it to its box and closed it.

"Your next order will arrive by tomorrow, Severus. I think a week will be sufficient to fulfil it."

Severus felt his heart leap, as if in answer to his unspoken need. Then, unbidden, he chanced a quick look down the path he was about to walk and wondered if he'd ever be able to return. With a twinge of regret, he took a deep breath and turned his mind away from what he already knew was a pointless train of thought.

"I look forward to receiving it, Lucius."

"Well done, Severus. Our Master will be pleased."

---

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

New spells, based on the framework of older Magic, were developed, along with a set of corresponding wand movements that ultimately stabilized the elemental forces and formed the type of Magic that is practiced today. These new spells required Wizards to developed greater and more precise use of their wands, since the removal of 'self' from the magic depended on all the energy being directed physically through the object. Form became, therefore, equal to intent in spell casting. There are, of course, some spells that are cast without wands, such as those involved in Animagus transformation or Apparition. However, due to the risks still inherent in wandless magic that require full application of the 'self' into the casting, Wizarding Authorities have imposed protective regulations and controls to monitor their use.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Peter

"Do you have any idea what the 'surprise' is?" asked Remus, a bit worried about what Sirius was up to this time. "He must have dropped some hints!"

"I swear I have no idea!" said James. In the next moment, a loud roar erupted behind and above them, and James, Remus and Peter turned as one towards the sound.

"But I think we're about to find out," James noted, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun and... something else.

From out of the clear, blue August sky, hovering over the copse of trees that surrounded the Potters' home, something shiny glimmered in the sunshine and grew larger as it descended towards them. That it was Sirius astride this strange object became apparent as he waved enthusiastically.

"Oi, mates!" came Sirius' voice from up above.

Sirius executed a nearly perfect landing, if one didn't count the damage inflicted upon Mrs. Potter's vegetable garden in the process.

They all stared at the clumps of roots, pummelled veggies and dirt below his feet.

"Er, sorry, Prongs," Sirius said as he dismounted, taking in the mess. "Don't worry. I'll take care of that before Mum comes back."

Peter stared at the odd contraption that had delivered Sirius to their end-of-summer Marauder reunion. He poked at it with his wand.

Sirius laughed. "It won't bite you, Wormtail!"

"What is it?" asked Remus as they all crowded around it to have a good look.

"It's a motorbike!" Sirius replied with a rush of excitement. "A Muggle machine that's been enchanted to fly! Those extra Galleons that my favourite Uncle Alphard left to me were itching to be spent!" Sirius had never looked so proud as he did standing next to his new, shiny toy.

Sirius's uncle, to the endless disapproval of his parents, had left him a considerable amount of money as an inheritance, permitting Sirius to move out on his own at the end of school.

James looked at Sirius as if he was a few Knuts short of a Sickle. "Are you mad, Sirius?" he said, shaking his head. "No...I already know the answer to that question. But really, mate, where did it come from? Is it safe? How do you know it's not been jinxed? And what, in bloody hell, are you planning to do with it?"

Remus tentatively sat astride the bike and felt the smooth solidity of its handles. "It's a marvel, Sirius," he said in awe. "Where did you get it?"

Sirius mumbled something about 'a man' and 'back of a lorry', which only made James look more sceptical than before.

"But I did check it out, and there aren't any jinxes on it," Sirius said defensively.

They all stared at him.

"Well, you can't grow up in my house and not learn a few detection spells. Not with my mother, the Queen of Paranoia."

That seemed to satisfy them as they nodded in understanding.

"But why would you use it? Isn't it faster to Apparate or Floo?" Peter asked, bewildered. His newly acquired special knowledge of the Floo Network gave him a unique appreciation of the system's speed and agility. "Even a broom looks to be faster than this," he added.

Sirius looked at him with something akin to pity as he shook his head. "Peter, have you no appreciation for style?"

Sirius walked over to the motorbike and lovingly caressed its back fender. "She is an elegant work of art," he said in a husky voice as he slowly moved his hands over the bike. "Such beautiful curves, polished to perfection. Her smooth seat practically begs you to sit on her. She feels fantastic when you ride her and vibrates and roars like a well-pleased lioness when she's revved her up. What more could a boy want?"

The boys all fidgeted, feeling suddenly flushed.

"So, who wants to go first?" he asked with a sly grin.

********

Several hours and multiple turns trying out the motorbike later, they all agreed that Sirius was a lucky bloke to have found such a brilliant new ride.

They were splayed out upon the grass behind the Potters' home, enjoying the late-afternoon sun, finishing off another round of Butterbeer and playing catch with a Bludger. James' parents were away on holiday and had agreed to let his friends over for the weekend. It was not a coincidence that tonight was the full moon, and James had arranged for them all to be together to help Remus with his transformation.

"How do you like your new flat, Padfoot?" asked James, picking at the dandelion weeds in the grass.

Sirius flopped over onto his stomach. "It's fantastic! Well, I miss you lot, of course," he said to James, "but I've always loved living in London. There is so much going on there...so much to do. It's given me loads of new ideas for products! And, of course, there are the most beautiful Muggle birds to watch!" Sirius sighed, and then pulled a sad face. "Too bad Evans has her hooks into you permanently," he sighed dramatically.

James pelted Sirius with the Bludger, but he was beaming. "And they are the most wonderfully delightful hooks, Padfoot. I'm not complaining!"

Sirius turned to Remus and Peter.

"Well, the two of you can come play with me. I'm sure I can find you a few lovelies, since James is otherwise occupied!"

Remus blushed and didn't reply, and Peter snorted, having no desire to go 'bird-hunting'...or anything else...with Sirius.

"Actually, there's this girl at work that I've met...." Peter started.

After that, Peter had to endure about a quarter-hour of teasing from his friends. He had noticed Alicia McKenny...the Floo Powder witch...acting very friendly towards him at work, and Peter enjoyed her attentions. He had not, however, worked up the courage to ask her out.

"What are you waiting for, mate?" prodded James. "Are you a Gryffindor, or not?"

"Well, she is a bit older than me, you know," Peter said without much conviction. He'd always felt awkward around girls, but older and 'wiser' women were especially intimidating.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Who cares about that, Wormtail? She's a woman who fancies you. What else matters?"

Remus snorted. "Yes, nothing else would matter to those as indiscriminating as you, Padfoot. What about intelligence? A sense of humour? An ability to care about someone else?"

Sirius nudged Remus with his foot. "Careful, Moony. James might think you're talking about Lily!"

Remus got up with a loud huff, glaring darkly at Sirius. He turned his back on his friends and walked down the hill towards the pond that lay at the end of the Potters' property.

James groaned. "Sirius! Was that necessary?"

"I thought that crush-on-Lily thing ended ages ago," said Sirius with a pout.

"It did, you wanker," scowled Peter.

"What's he going off all sensitive for, then?"

"You know how tense and anxious Moony gets just before the moon," James replied, gently chiding his friend.

Sirius shrugged, but had the grace to look a bit sorry. "I forgot. I'll make it up to him, don't worry."

Peter sniggered, thinking of how much time Sirius had spent 'making up' to Remus in the past year. It had been gratifying to see him taken down a peg for once. And he was truly delighted when he'd heard that Sirius had moved out of James' house. Still, Sirius always seemed to find luck on his side. It was sad that his uncle died, Peter thought, but even with that, he had ended up with a fortune and his own flat! Peter was hoping to get his own flat soon, too. Then he wondered about Remus.

"James, what has Remus been doing since school?" Peter asked. "Has he told you?"

"Only that Dumbledore has helped to find him some tutoring work," said James. "I asked, but he was a bit cagey about telling me any more than that." James frowned and ran his hand through his hair, a sure sign of his concern. "I worry about Remus. There aren't many choices open to him. It's so bloody unfair."

"Then it's a good thing we'll be there to help him," said Peter. James brightened at this, and Peter felt pleased.

"You're right, Peter. We will, indeed!"

Sirius jumped up. "Well, I think we should help Remus right now! I think he'd love the chance to play with his animal friends before the moonrise," said Sirius with a grin. "He's never been able to do that before. That will cheer him up!"

"Brilliant, Padfoot," said James with a broad smile of his own. Peter sighed but smiled back at James, as if in agreement. So, drawn once more into Sirius' contagious enthusiasm, they all rose. With a quick turn to connect to the rat, dog and stag within, they transformed into Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, and scampered together down the hill to find their friend.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

While there was disagreement among the Magical community about the use of new or older forms of Magic, and both were...and still are...continued in practice, they did agree that their children should be taught this newer form of Magic in a more formal manner than they themselves had been taught. This led to the founding of the great Wizarding Academies in Europe and the Middle East in the latter part of the 10th century. The other critical decision was that the study of the older forms of Magic should not be taught at all, at least in any formalized manner. However, this repression of knowledge about Dark Magic only served to enhance its mystique and propagate misunderstandings about its intent that continue to this day. It is this author's belief that this decision, this misguided omission in the education of Witches and Wizards, poses a considerable risk to the uninformed who might stumble upon it by accident or, even more dangerously, to those who seek and acquire knowledge of this ancient practice for unsavoury purposes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

---

Art work is by the awesome anemonesque.

The Origins of Magick has been adapted and, in some cases, quoted directly from JOdell's wonderfully persuasive essay, "The History of Magic," used here with her generous permission. It can be read in its entirety on her website, Red-Hen Publications:

http://redhen-publications.com/HistoryofMagic.html

The 'author's' conclusion in the last paragraph at the end of the essay, however, is mine.

*************

Thanks to my ever diligent beta, celtmama, who is such a great help.