ã€ŠPyram Has a Problemã€‹


 Chapter 1

    There are many reasons one may not enjoy school. It could be because they see it as a waste of time, is too crowded, or could simply be done better. To Pyram, all of these reasons apply.

    Pyram simply, and very openly dislikes school. He already knows how to do magic, hell, he even transferred from barbaric America because he knows how to do magic. Does he know why he was transferred? No. Of course, no one would tell an orphan child why they would be moving from Colorado Springs to England, because that would be unthinkable.

    Every time a stupid bell rings¨Cthe damn thing is loud as hell, to boot¨C, Pyram is shoved out of his already stuffy class and into a freaking crowd of idiot children who have no idea what personal space is, mind you, only to be shoved by those same idiot children. He was even rudely pushed around, so much so that he is just two steps from¡­from what again?

    Schools in particular could also be shorter. They don¡¯t allow their students to get their very much-needed rest and then expect them to be extra energetic to answer too many questions on too many papers. Why is that even mandatory? It might as well be a second purgatory, specifically for children who have done little to no wrong!

    Although right now, Pyram sat in a (confessedly comfortable) chair with his head down on the desk, eyebrows furrowed in contempt as he lousily stared up at the Hogwarts Headmaster.

    The headmaster was blabbering about how special his case was or some baloney like that, Pyram didn¡¯t particularly care. He had begun reaching out to the beautiful red and gold eagle that was sitting on its perch with his magic, petting its feathers with invisible hands.

    The bird squawked indignantly and looked to the headmaster, seemingly annoyed at him for petting it while it was sleeping but paused mid-squawk when it noticed Pyram. It then adopted a regal posture, puffed out its chest feathers, and fluffed up its wings like it was about to play the starring role in a popular drama.

    It spread its gorgeous red-to-gold wings which began radiating a comforting warmth. He observed it for a couple of moments before it finally calmed down and simply watched him expectantly.

    The headmaster chuckled and calmed the bird down, ¡°It seems Fawkes has taken a, let''s say, peculiar liking to you, Mister Claraflam.¡± He then continued his boring talk while Fawkes was awed at Pyram¡¯s stellar appearance.

    ¡°Mister Claraflam, I am most enamored with your willingness to proceed with all the paperwork tests we gave you, and I would like to invite you to attend Hogwarts for your education in the many different disciplines of magic.¡± The headmaster had finally gained Pyram¡¯s attention with the sudden textbook talk, so much so that he had not realized that he was simply staring at him.

    He then found his voice and said, ¡°I accept your invitation,¡± with the same tone as the headmaster, still a little shocked and flattered at the opportunity. Perhaps I can learn real magic for once.

    He smiled and his eyes twinkled, something that made Pyram irrationally confused because that shouldn¡¯t be possible, and he then spoke, ¡°You can follow me now, to the Great Hall for your sorting. I¡¯d expect Minerva to have already started without us.¡±

    Pyram was led down to the other first years waiting in line to be sorted, and it was there he saw the boy who lived himself, Harry Potter. Pyram didn¡¯t interact with him, wanting to stay away in fear of some kind of curse that Voldemort may have put on him.

    His name was called after around 7 other kids, something he hoped was good news as he walked up to the sharp bark of, ¡°Claraflam, Pyram!¡±

    There was a stool in front of the entire school, who were eagerly waiting for the start of the year feast as the first years got sorted.

    Pyram sat down on the stool and Professor McGonagall handed him a worn wizard¡¯s hat that she then put on, as per the silent request of her soon-to-be teacher.

    ¡®From America, are we?¡¯ A voice slithered into Pyram¡¯s mind, invading all of his deepest secrets and past endeavors. Pyram was livid.

    ¡°GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD YOU MEAN ASS DIRTY HAT! I¡¯LL FUCKING BURN YOU ON THE SPOT IF YOU DON¡¯T JUST SORT ME ALREADY!¡± Pyram shouted at the hat from his mind, imagining a very vivid image of fire as hot as the sun. He could feel his wand in his pocket agreeing, sending out hot pulses of magic through his body.

    ¡°Slyth¨C¡± Pyram imagined the hat burning, ¡°RAVENCLAW!¡± it shrieked. Pyram smiled at it and took it off, handing it to Mcgonagall before walking to the Ravenclaw table.

    He was greeted by uncertain, ¡°Woo..¡±s and ¡°Yay?¡±s, both of which were very welcome. He then began the short wait for the others to be sorted.

    When the hubbub had died down, the headmaster again gave them the typical school lecture; don¡¯t break the rules, no, really don¡¯t break the rules, and it''s very fun here at _____ school of Bart¡¯s huck and witch crack. Then the headmaster finally dismissed all of his students to their respective common rooms for some sleep, ¡°Prefects, show your first years where to go,¡± yada-yada.

    A prefect, Penelope Clearwater, if what Pyram heard from a second year was correct, guided them all up some floors then up some more floors. At some point, Pyram felt something calling to him on the seventh floor of whatever tower. It was like a whisper tentatively asking Pyram to look at something interesting, but by the time they were finally at the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, Pyram¡¯s calves were already sore.

    Clearwater wrapped her knuckles on a wall, which suddenly became an outlined doorway that asked, ¡°Where do vanished objects go?¡±

    Clearwater answered in a brisk yet cautious voice, ¡°Into non-being?¡±

    The door¡¯s outline sharpened and soon became a proper door, commenting on acceptance.

    Clearwater motioned them all to go on in, instructing the general layout, what not to do, what to do, and everything else that was generally known for the Ravenclaws at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

    Pyram led the way to the first years¡¯ male dormitory, basically a room with three bunk beds and enlarged space underneath to store their luggage which was already placed there by house elves. There was no bathroom, but that was placed somewhere in the common room if Pyram¡¯s guesswork was up to date.

    After bidding goodnight to his peers, Pyram laid his head down on his pillow. He had wisely chosen the bottom bunk furthest to the right that also had a window he could look out of and, if needed, sneak out of in time of emergency.

    The next day Pyram woke up semi-refreshed and then decided to burden all of his sleeping dorm mates by shouting, ¡°Get up you British Buffoons! It¡¯s time for school!!¡± Due to how awesome he was and how much his peers ¨Cfeared¨C adored him, they got up and yawned, asking about the weather and other normal child things.

    He got up with the others, ate breakfast, and then asked a knowledgeable fifth-year Ravenclaw where to go, all the other first-year students trailing behind him awkwardly, as they too did not know where to go and Pyram was the only one to take initiative.

    ¡°You should get your schedules at around this time, they¡¯ll just poof in your hands,¡± a volley of ¡®POP!¡¯ sounds were heard, ¡°Yeah, just like that. You just go to where you¡¯re assigned for your first subject with all the things you need for it. Now I need to get to Filch, he¡¯ll be livid¡­¡±

    Pyram looked behind him for the rest of the first years, deciding that he¡¯d act as their guide dog for the first week or so. It would be nice to be depended on, after all. ¡°Alright, what does everyone have for their first period, subject, block, whatever?¡±

    A girl raised her hand, so Pyram called on her expectantly, ¡°We all have Professor Quirrell first, Mr. Claraflam.¡±

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    Pyram closed his eyes and tapped his chin, doing his best to act like he was thinking very hard about something before he got an idea, ¡°Alright, follow me. I was allowed to see a map before you guys, so I was allowed to get a lay of the land and meet some of the Professors already. Stay in one group and don¡¯t get lost. Follow someone recognizable who is also following me, if that helps.¡±

    Just like that, the first years were under Pyram¡¯s watch as they followed him down some floors and right. After some walking, they finally came across Professor Quirrell¡¯s class, before the Hufflepuffs. Professor Quirrell was very surprised by this, stuttering, ¡°M-m-m-my, I didn¡¯t expect you to be s-so i-i-invested in my class.¡±

    Soon enough the Hufflepuffs arrived and Professor Quirrell began class. He wasn¡¯t a bad teacher apart from the fact that he stuttered every couple of words or so, which was annoying as can be. They mostly learned what the class was about and some tame dark spells as well as which spells counteracted them. Quirrell didn¡¯t exactly teach them any of these spells, but that wasn¡¯t a good start to the first class anyway.

    On a scale of one to ten, Quirrell would be about eight and two-tenths, Pyram silently rated his teacher as he walked out of the classroom, the first years following him dutifully. When they weren¡¯t in the way of the bustling halls, Pyram turned back to his legion and said, ¡°Alright, next class is Professor Flitwick¡¯s, or Charms, as commonly said here at Hogwarts. Just a little heads up from me.¡±

    Pyram then led his legion up two flights of stairs and to the left, finding the Charms class, again, before the Hufflepuffs who were likely lost at this point.

    The class started and they were asked to get their textbooks to flip to page 10: Light Charms. After learning about how they could flunk the charm known as Lumos and how to cast it, they were finally allowed to practice doing so.

    ¡°Lumos!¡± Pyram flicked his wand upwards. The tip of his wand glowed slightly, but it flickered and died out within five seconds of casting it.

    ¡°Well done, Mister Claraflam. 5 points to Ravenclaw.¡± Professor Flitwick complimented, but Pyram frowned. He shouldn¡¯t have been complimented for such a weak light.

    With that in mind, he imagined a light suitable for pitch-black corridors that lasted far longer than normal and cast Lumos again, ¡°Lumos.¡± A far brighter light appeared this time, and instead of dying out quickly, it lasted for thirty seconds before Pyram decided to put it out, ¡°Nox.¡±

    ¡°Excellent demonstration, Mister Claraflam! Another 5 points to Ravenclaw.¡± The professor smiled wide, nodding vigorously.

    And so class passed on with Pyram teaching some of those from his legion how to correctly cast the light charm. Flitwick was kind enough to let the class leave a couple minutes before they had to leave for Transfiguration¨C ¡°Just to beat the rush,¡± was his reasoning¨C, but instead of letting his legion leave early, Pyram made sure that his legion could all conjure at least a little light from their wands before leaving, as anything else would just be unkempt of one of his own.

    Only after his legion was successful did Pyram lead the way down to Transfiguration class, feeling very proud of his fellow Ravenclaws as they still got to class before the Hufflepuffs. On the way Pyram spied Harry Potter and a friend of his walking around lost, so he smiled. No one in Gryffindor had the sense to help their first years navigate the school.

    When they got to Transfiguration, it was about the same thing. Read about what not to do and what to do then turn a matchstick into a needle. Simple and ordinary, yes, but still requiring knowledge about the subject and everything to do with said subject.

    All he had to do was communicate with his wand¨Csilver birch from Finland and a strand of fabric from a Lethifold that tried killing a unicorn near the Black Forest in Germany, 10 and a quarter inches¨C what his intentions were. Since he had a very good relationship with said wand, this was rather easy. It impressed Professor McGonagall, however, who then granted his house another 10 points.

    After Transfiguration was lunch, then after lunch was Herbology, after Herbology was Potions, and after potions was Hooch¡¯s class. Herbology was herbology. Pyram decided not to think too much when dealing with sentient plants, just treating them like magical creatures he had to take care of that could act in any way.

    Potions were conflicting. Pyram had forgotten that he didn¡¯t even have a textbook and had to borrow one after Professor Snape berated him and deducted 5 points from Ravenclaw, but that textbook had been annotated by what seemed to be some genius perfectionist who couldn¡¯t keep his thoughts to himself. Although the annotations were, begrudgingly, extremely helpful. Pyram ended up keeping the textbook after growing somewhat fond of the annotation¡¯s snide comments about how dumb people were.

    Pyram never found out why flying brooms was so important when there were more ways to travel, but semantics. Each class was about 80 whole minutes long which took up the entire day. By the time 3:00 PM rolled around, Pyram dismissed his legion to the common room, telling them to relax only when all their schoolwork was finished, to go investigate the pull he had felt on his first school day.

    It was somewhere on the seventh floor, so Pyram decided to just walk around with his wand out to see if he would feel the pull at any moment. Although this was answered quickly, the moment he stepped foot on the floor, he could feel it. So he followed it to a corridor with no paintings or classes.

    At first, nothing happened, so Pyram was going to dub the corridor the thinking corridor, so he thought about some things weighing on his mind as he paced back and forth. First, he pondered about how difficult magic would be in his seventh year. Second, he wondered about Harry Potter and how the hell he, as a 1-year-old baby, could defeat the Dark Lord. And finally, he wondered about the year to come.

    On his third lap around the corridor, a door came into being on the wall furthest away from the stairs. Feeling his wand practically scream in delight, he opened the door and walked in. In the bland cobblestone room was a table and a chair. On the table lay a book titled, ¡°The Boy and the Stone¡± by someone who laughs so hard they start rolling around on the floor.

    As he neared the book, he could feel his wand twitch and it suddenly zoomed into Pyram¡¯s hand which had reached out for it unconsciously. There was no real synopsis but instead just the words, ¡°A story about The Chosen One.¡±? As he flipped through the pages, reading it with furrowed eyebrows, he realized something. This book foretold the future. And vividly, at that.

    Upon this realization, his wand vibrated in his hand. Was it exciting? A flash went through Pyram¡¯s vision¨Csomething coming from his wand, he realized. Pyram fell to the ground, hitting his head on the table and blacking out for a few seconds.

    Though now he felt more calm. The constant need to¡­just be was now sated. It was his wand soothing the stunting influx of magical power rushing through his body. Pyram remembered why he had been allowed to cross an entire sea just to go to a school now.

    His magic was explosive and dangerous. Explosive in the sense that it sometimes became too erratic and escaped in large bursts. Dangerous because that explosiveness had killed¡­something. Pyram wondered who he killed, because he knew he did, he just didn¡¯t remember¡­what, or who.

    And that was why he went to Dumbledore. He must have had some kind of experience with this kind of stuff. But how? Never mind¡­that¡¯s not any of my business. He thought, perishing any curiosity. All I need to do now is focus on my studies so I can have a better future. But¡­ he flipped through the pages, looking for his name, I¡¯m not mentioned at all. It¡¯d be better to finish this book before I do anything.

    Pyram glanced down at his wand and then around the room, wondering what it was. A sheet of paper appeared on the table.

    The Room of Requirement is a room that can be found on the seventh floor. It complies with the user¡¯s whims.

    With that new information in mind, Pyram decided, ¡°I want time to stop as long as the book is not finished, but I do not want myself or anything I touch to be affected by the time stopping.¡± Nothing noticeable happened, but a buzz from his wand told him that time had indeed stopped.

    Pyram started to read the book and practice some of the spells Harry Potter learned when he got to Hogwarts. All spells were just a matter of communication with one¡¯s wand, a little bit of intent, and a picture of what you want clear in your head.

    Then came the breaking of the rules. The troll. The third corridor. Fluffy. Norbert. The Mirror of Erised. And then Voldemort. Voldemort was Quirrell, or rather, Quirrell was helping Voldemort come back.

    In the end, all would be fine. All Pyram needed to do was stay the hell away from Harry Potter.

    With a thought, the room conjured a fire and he tossed the book into it, and in a couple of seconds the fire flashed blue and the book turned to ash. Pyram watched the fire for several minutes, just standing there, head cocked towards the flame in wonder. He glanced down at his wand, asking whether he could make it happen

    A single green spark rose from the tip of his wand, and Pyram looked at the fire for a few moments before picturing that same power under his control, made from the air itself being burned to create embers and leave charred remains in its wake.

    Pyram held up his wand. The room quickly withdrew all flammable objects, as if it knew what was coming. Dragonfire erupted from the end of Pyram¡¯s wand, roaring in delight at its awakening and whooshing away in the same instant.

    Pyram coughed, feeling like he had just run a mile at full speed. He sat down on the floor, holding his wand in his hands and squinting at it. That shouldn¡¯t be possible, at least not so young as I am now. He regarded his wand with curiosity, How powerful are you?

    The trek back to his common room was long and tiring, filled with stairs he laboriously climbed as if he were carrying dead weight behind him. At some point, he thought he heard a painting murmur concerning words to its neighbor after taking a look at his disheveled state.

    ¡°I hope he¡¯s alright,¡± a woman grooming a dashing young stallion whispered to her friend.

    ¡°He looks like he¡¯s been through the works alright,¡± her friend agreed, ¡°perhaps he met Peeves.¡±

    The woman shook her head disapprovingly, ¡°I don¡¯t know why Dumbledore puts up with that damned poltergeist!¡±

    When he finally got to the entrance, he knocked on the wall and a speaker-looking thing asked, ¡°Glittering points that downward thrust, sparkling spears that never rust. What are they?¡±

    Pyram groaned, half wanting to bang his head on the wall and sleep but also wanting to get inside before curfew, ¡°Friggin¡­oh. Ice can glitter¡­downwards thrust, so something potentially sharp hanging, spears that never rust¡­could they be icicles?¡±

    A ¡®Ding!¡¯ was heard and then a door materialized, Pyram gratefully opened it and walked into his dorm room while ignoring the curious glances of his housemates. When he finally got to his bed, he flopped onto it and fell asleep, sighing in relief as the comfortable cushions welcomed him with open covers.

 Chapter 2

    Sweet, sweet morning. Everyone loves waking up to someone poking you in your side like you¡¯re a dead animal on the side of the road.

    . . .

    No, that was wrong. Very wrong.

    Pyram took out his wand and pointed it at the children qualming over him and warned them with an icy tone, ¡°I will begin counting down from ten, you all should be out of this room by then.¡± He began counting, and after the third second, he heard them all scramble out in a hurry.

    He sighed and sat up, feeling very irritated that he was woken up before he realized he had classes. Checking an alarm that was set next to his bed, he found that class started in about an hour, so he got up, got dressed, and went outside his room to eat breakfast.

    It was a repeat of the day before, literally. It was that one day teachers did the same thing so the slow students could catch up. So all Pyram did was go over everything with his legion so that he could properly fill the role of a good liege.

    To make up for the boredom, Pyram returned to the will-do room and asked it to give him some good dueling spells to practice. After reading the book over, he found a particular event that could allow him to practice more deadly dueling magic.

    He was training for the troll encounter, of course. Pyram¡¯s wand suggested to him exactly three spells to master. Sectumsempra, expulso, and impedimenta. After a helpful tip from his wand, he found sectumsempra in his potions book¨Chow helpful this genius perfectionist of his¨C and decided to practice that one first.

    According to GP (Genius Perfectionist), the sectumsempra is just cutting your opponent with a wand. Say the incantation, have the intention, and wave your wand at your target. After practicing on a few dummies the room conjured, Pyram found that depending on how you move your wand, your target will be slashed in that same motion.

    Say you thrust your wand forward, it would give a more impaling effect than just, say, flicking your wand, which would give the target more of an actual cut. The nature of the spell was, well, less than pretty, but no one is perfect¡­except maybe Mister Genius Perfectionist, as he apparently reigns supreme in all things that can be perfected.

    It had taken about 2 weeks of dedicating all of his free time to the curse to really ¡°get it down¡±. Although by Sunday, Pyram wouldn¡¯t doubt being able to effortlessly cast the spell without speaking. His wand informed him that this was in no way normal and that he shouldn¡¯t get used to such easy things, but in the end, his mastery of the curse was all that mattered.

    The actual school day ended at 3:00 PM and started at about 8:00 AM, which meant that school was 7 hours long, but the prestige of the school and the fact that almost every student at Hogwarts is at least somewhat successful in later life gives Hogwarts its good reputation. Pyram dedicated about 6 hours every day to practicing sectumsempra. Using a little math, one would find that he spent around 84 hours just practicing a single spell. His mastery of the Sectumsempra was self-explanatory.

    And so by week 3 of school, he started his second spell. Expulso. Another curse, but at least it sounded useful, so Pyram went with his wand¡¯s suggestion, as usual. Expulso was a curse of the exploding category, so it went along with Bombarda and Confringo, two very popular exploding spells.

    It worked by bringing atoms affected by the spell extremely close together and then releasing them all in a sharp and fiery explosion. Since the book that the Will-Do Room supplied for him went that in-depth about the curse, Pyram noted that in the future he could innovate the spell for his own needs, whatever they may be. Perhaps he could even make a slightly risky version of Scourgify.

    This was a good bit easier than Sectumsempra because of this; he knew how it worked and what he could try to make the spellcasting come easier. Fast forward a week and four days and Pyram could use the spell properly, then with one more day of diligent practice, he mastered the spell to the point where he could probably use a much weaker version without an incantation.

    Next was the Impedimenta, which was one of the more complicated spells which slowed down the target. It would be useful against the troll, but Pyram was a little annoyed at the use of the spell. To slow down dragons and run away. Why would you run away? Don¡¯t dragons have useful potion ingredients?

    So obviously, Pyram snubbed all the uses he learned and went on with his learning of the jinx itself. This one was also a good deal easier than Sectumsempra, but Pyram didn¡¯t have the in-depth knowledge of the works so it took a little longer to master it, but when he did he could slow the target down till it would be almost immovable, although this was against a wooden dummy, so Pyram made sure not to overestimate his skill.

    This spell had taken significantly longer than the Expulso curse, to Pyram¡¯s dismay, and took a whole two weeks and six days. This wasn¡¯t terrible, in fact, it was rather good because it meant he had 10 days to prepare for Halloween. Maybe he could even find some more cool stuff in the school during this time or read more books about the future from the Will-Do Room, but his wand told him that future seeing only went so far in a world such as this. Bummer.

    Nevertheless, his opponent would be a troll and the main trio¡¯s relationship shouldn¡¯t be affected all too much; Harry and Ron would still be concerned enough to face the prospect of meeting the troll to find Hermione, after all.

    So yes, was he taking a risk by going after the troll? Yes. Did he think of the consequences? Also yes. Did he particularly care about the future¡¯s ¡°original plot¡±? Not at all, were his thoughts as he made his way to the girl¡¯s bathroom in the dungeons during the Halloween Feast.

    He had scoped out the area beforehand and found that it was an ill-visited place. He knew by now that Quirrell (and Voldemort) had probably screamed about the troll in the Great Hall, so he was on a timer while he ran down many steps to the dungeons of Hogwarts. Then he smelled something awful, and then he heard loud stomps like a drunk person just returned home from a late night out and was lazily walking to bed.

    Pyram knew it was the troll. He knew it, and his body knew it. His heart was pounding in his ears and he had trouble focusing on what he had to do. A pulse of calming magic went through his body from his wand, and Pyram knew it had done something because now his heart was beating normally and his thoughts were right as rain.

    I know what to do. Pyram pressed into his brain, his soul even, as he raised his wand at the big gray mountain troll and said three words in a deliberate sequence.

    ¡°Impedimenta!¡± the troll slowed down comically as if it had gone into slow motion.

    ¡°Expulso!¡± The explosion sent the troll falling, still slowly, before Pyram canceled his first spell to give it more of a shock.

    ¡°Sectumsempra!¡± With the last spell slicing through the troll¡¯s major neck arteries, Pyram left. He knew the troll would die. Harry and Ron didn¡¯t get to Hermione that quickly.

    As Pyram sprinted back to the feast, heart now pounding as it did before, he saw four jumbled lines leaving the Great Hall¡¯s huge doors; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. He quickly bolted into his own house¡¯s line and scampered down to the back with some alert seventh years who noticed him and pushed him in line annoyedly, one even muttering about terrible bladders and their terrible timings.

    Pyram Claraflam sat on a chair in the Will-Do Room, practicing some more spells that his wand offered him. When he asked his wand what the spells were, it said humans didn¡¯t have a word for them, so Pyram went with it.

    One spell was supposed to deprive the target of its senses for some time, and another was supposed to send them into a short episode of madness that made the target laugh so hard they shredded their vocal cords. He learned that one the hard way; it kinda sucks having no live test subjects. The Will-Do Room could do many things, but creating living things seemed to be beyond its capabilities. Both were very interesting, to say the least, but there was one particular spell that Pyram was extra-skeptical of.

    It was a spell that his wand related to darkness and stealth. The first time Pyram managed to successfully cast it, he had felt an all-encompassing irrational fear that made him scream at what was not there. The Will-Do Room knocked him out after a passing thought from Pyram¡¯s crazed mind, and an hour later Pyram woke up in his bed, all the way up in his dorm. How he was transported there, he didn¡¯t know, but his wand stopped responding to him for a little while after that.

    At some point, Pyram felt a distinct change in his body that accompanied a terrible pain that felt like something was tore away at his insides, washed them with hand sanitizer, and shoved them back in without any care in the world. At least his wand came back afterward, seeming to radiate a more familiar air than before.

    The spell wasn¡¯t scary anymore, either, so that was a plus. It ended up being able to shroud the very presence of Pyram when he used it on himself, but he knew it had other effects he wouldn¡¯t know until he used it in a situation that called for the effects.

    Something called the ¡°quidditch¡± season started, and everyone that wasn¡¯t Pyram and maybe a few others were excited about it. Pyram wasn¡¯t against it at all; he was all for the rest of the school being distracted by games. This meant that he could happily practice spells for a whole¡­well, a long time.

    The school had been alright. Pyram only practiced spells when his homework and classwork was done, and he tried his best to get a good chunk of it done during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The rest he finished in the Will-Do Room and then he spent the rest of the day practicing his spells. All in all, a very healthy schedule by Pyram¡¯s skewed standards.

    Pyram¡¯s wand was often a subject of curiosity from his legion since it didn¡¯t come from Ollivander¡¯s set. Pyram told them that he found his wand in an alley when the orphanage kicked him out and that it had been his greatest friend ever since. His legion then awkwardly apologized for whatever reason and went back to eating breakfast. This was true, but he left out a few details. Pyram didn¡¯t, not really, need to tell them that he had taken it from a dying wizard who wished to give the wand to another before they died.

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    Pyram finally got all the spells his wand had given him mastered only a day after the Quidditch season ended, having skipped all six Quidditch games to practice them. Pyram wanted to get ahead of the game now and check out the Mirror of Erised. His end goal would likely be easier when he knew what his greatest desire was.

    It had been a while since Pyram had killed the troll¨Csomething he had been reluctant to even think about¨C, and today, December 20th, he planned to do something about the Mirror of Erised. He didn¡¯t know whether it was even in the disused classroom yet. But Pyram had to find it. Both he and his wand willed it, so both he and his wand would find it, regardless of where it was.

    So Pyram walked the empty halls with his ¡°mysterious¡± stealth spell active. At some point, he passed Filch¡¯s cat who stood stock-still upon sniffing the air. It seemed the spell paralyzed whoever found out the user was there. It was around midnight, so no one but teachers were roaming the dark corridors of Hogwarts. As he passed by a door, he felt his wand nudge him and he opened the door in response.

    There it was, the Mirror of Erised. Pyram looked into the mirror but remembered that he was practically invisible, so he let the spell fade away. He glanced around the empty classroom with slightly squinted eyes, Dumbledore may just be in this very room, wondering why Pyram was there.

    That doesn¡¯t matter, Pyram thought as he looked into his reflection. He saw nothing, but¡­well, there were no changes in his appearance apart from a dark cloak he now donned with a warm smile, and he was older. Older, yes, but not like an old man. Pyram tilted his head at his reflection, who did not move but only smiled wider. It wasn¡¯t a creepy, villain smile. Just the happy smile of a man who had fulfilled all his goals and only lived in peace.

    Pyram smiled back at his reflection and squeezed his wand. Then he began to walk out of the room, imagining a billowing cloak behind him. That was until a voice interrupted him.

    ¡°How curious, for you to come here so soon, Mister Claraflam,¡± Dumbledore said from behind him.

    Pyram looked back at the elderly man, who smiled at him, eyes twinkling like his phoenix¡¯s eyes. ¡°You, too, professor.¡± Pyram regarded his headmaster with a slight dip of the head.

    Dumbledore dipped his head in a repetition of Pyram¡¯s action, ¡°What did you see?¡±

    Straight to the point, then. No point in telling a lie for something so pointless. Pyram reasoned as he told Dumbledore, carefully avoiding looking into his eyes, ¡°I saw myself. Older. With a beautiful cloak. It seems I desire nothing more than a life unchanging and predictable.¡± Pyram thought of a world like that. One with no war, and no governors. Just him and people and nature. Peace.

    Pyram then looked to Dumbledore, his eyes having drifted off to look back at the mirror, ¡°What did you see? I understand the weight of the question, but I have told you the truth, and it would only make sense for you to do the same.¡±

    Dumbledore¡¯s eyes twinkled again, ¡°Myself, holding a pair of great, woolen socks.¡±

    Pyram¡¯s smile dropped a little, and he sighed, ¡°Goodnight to you, professor. I am far too tired to continue this particular escapade.¡± Dumbledore had lied to him, just as he did to Harry Potter. Pyram wasn¡¯t angry, he was simply disappointed. He made the long trek back up to the Ravenclaw Common Room.

    By the time he had reached the stairs, he had taken almost 15 whole minutes. Why am I so slow? Did Dumbledore do something to me to make me feel so¡­odd? He was pretty sure Filch had found him because the caretaker was standing right in front of the steps and yelling furiously, pointing at his still-paralyzed cat which he held in his arms.

    ¡°That¡¯d be detention¡­¡± Pyram muttered with half-lidded eyes as he leaned against the wall, mind swirling around dizzily. He heard footsteps walk up behind him and felt a hand on his back.

    He remembered murdering the troll. The cruel coldness he felt spread in his chest when he cast Sectumsempra on a real, living being. He remembered the fear of the spell he cast. It was supposed to put a shroud of stealth around him. But it was terrifying. It hurt so much, he just couldn¡¯t do anything about it. His insides were being shredded about, something ripping up his organs and changing them.

    And then he remembered the child he had murdered. Killing a monster was one thing, but a human being? He had been in school. The bell had rang, and then he was forced into the hallway to get to his locker, but then some one pushed him into another persona and he just¡ªsnapped. His magic had gone out of control and tore into the kid he had been pushed into.

    Pyram emptied his stomach on the stone beneath him and coughed. It was like a kick in the bum, a shock to get him on track again. ¡°Claraflam!¡± he heard a raspy voice growl at him. Oh, it was Filch.

    ¡°Hospital wing, now! Then detention for sneaking out so late!¡± Filch snarled at him. What a sociopath, Pyram thought as he stumbled towards the Hospital wing as he was told.

    ¡°Mister Claraflam¨Chave you been dealing with dementors!? This is unseemly! Here, eat some chocolate, it¡¯ll help-¡± Madam Pomfrey started. At the mention of chocolate, Pyram felt a jolt of revulsion. Chocolate was the rotten food for people who liked cavities, not Pyram!

    ¡°No! No, I¡¯m fine, Madam Pomfrey. I¡¯ve just eaten something bad and decided this night would be excellent for exploring the castle,¡± He didn¡¯t dare tell her about the mirror, ¡°Honesty!¡±

    In reality, Pyram was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane and was paler than a ghost as he sat on the hospital bed. He felt terrible and did feel like a dementor had almost sucked his soul out, as damaged as it may be.

    Madam Pomfrey looked livid, ¡°Well, you¡¯d best stay the night! I won¡¯t be having you collapse in the middle of brewing a blasted potion!¡± she bustled around, looking for something and finally finding a potion vial filled with a warm, cinnamon-colored liquid, ¡°And if you won¡¯t have chocolate, you¡¯ll have a Winter Fire¡¯s potion, child.¡±

    Pyram reluctantly took the vial and uncorked it, smelling the familiar scent of lavender from the potion. He shrugged and drank the potion, feeling the soreness in his legs fade away a little bit. It was rather like drinking hot chocolate on an empty stomach, which was what he was technically doing.

    Pyram opened his mouth a few times, licking his lips and feeling how dry they were. Perhaps dedicating all of his time to his spells wouldn¡¯t be the best thing to do, he thought as he asked his caretaker for a glass of water. Madam Pomfrey nodded sternly and waved her wand. Soon after, a large pitcher of room temperature water¨Cand a pristine glass¨C popped into her hands and she poured him a glass of water.

    Pyram drank it gratefully while Madam Pomfrey set the pitcher down on his bedside table. Pyram then yawned and laid down on the mattress, relaxing his tense muscles and slowly falling asleep under the careful yet strict supervision of Madam Pomfrey.

    This time, Pyram did not wake up to the incessant nagging of children, but instead to the incessant nagging of; surprise, crying children! How wonderful to be in the presence of ¡°WAAAAAAH¡±s and ¡°Oh no he¡¯s dead!¡±s from his over-the-top legion of babies.

    Pyram pinched the bridge of his nose and sat up, sighing when a particularly panic stricken girl shrieked in terror. He held up his hand to his legion and said, ¡°All right, calm down. I was just very ¡°under the weather¡± last night.¡±

    His legion then, understandably, looked embarrassed and tried to act calmly professional. They ended up just coughing, as a whole, and stating, as a whole but in various different ways, that they knew exactly how well he was and were completely serene about it the entire time.

    Begrudgingly, Pyram accepted this in a completely fake act that his legion could clearly see. He then guided his legion to the first period; something he had refrained from doing past the first week of school. It was Defense Against the Dark Arts, DADA for short. During his months of hard spell-practicing, Pyram had gone through halls as if on autopilot. He had gone through all his classes, simply doing the bare minimum aside from that first day.

    Perhaps it was time for Pyram to wake up.

    Today was a practical class. Good for Pyram, at least. They were on the Verdimillious Charm; a charm that emitted green sparks which could be used to reveal dark magic, cause small explosions, and emit a blinding green light (if it was used proficiently enough).

    Quirrell, in his fake stuttering fashion, was asking the students to demonstrate their completion of the spell as a way for him to more easily grade the homework he had assigned them. The homework in question was simply, ¡°C-c-c-ca-cast t-t-t-the ch-ch-ch-charm c-correctly.¡±

    Pyram had finished his DADA homework a while ago, so he was confident when Professor Quirrell called him up to demonstrate his own progress, ¡°P-P-P-P-Pyhram C-C-Claraflam.¡± although he was a little irked that the possessed teacher still couldn¡¯t get his name right after literal months of Pyram correcting him.

    Pyram faced the whiteboard that he was meant to aim at and glanced at his professor, who nodded a little too much. Pyram lifted his wand and felt it rise up with him, causing a shiver to go down his spine. Pyram settled his breathing and incanted, ¡°Verdimillious,¡± in a finite tone.

    Bright, venom-green sparks erupted from Pyram¡¯s wand in a splatter of bright light, casting the classroom into a temporary green hue till they struck the white board and went off like firecrackers. ¡°Ckr! Krkrkrkr!¡±

    ¡°E-e-e-ex-excellent w-work, M-M-Mister C-C-C-C-Claraflam, t-t-ten point to R-R-R-Ravenclaw.¡± Professor Quirrell jabbered. When Pyram looked in his eyes¨Cfor just a moment¨C he could feel something disgusting clawing at his mind.

    His wand pulsed, radiating a primal rage and coldness that went through Pyram¡¯s body and ripped into the thing trying to read his memories. Pyram blinked, took his eyes off of Professor Quirrell¡¯s and quickly walked back to his seat.

    Pyram spent the rest of class reminding himself that Quirrell was not simply Quirrell. He was Voldemort. The Dark Lord. Revealing himself to Voldemort was even worse than going up to Harry Potter and telling him what would happen in the following months. His idiot self had just shown off, and now he was on Voldemort¡¯s radar.

    Pyram¡¯s eyes focussed when the bell rang, although before he could storm out of the class and to Professor Flitwick, Quirrell called to him, ¡°M-M-Mister C-C-Claraflam, c-c-c-c-c-c-could you stay b-b-b-back for a c-c-couple moments? I-I-I-I-I would like to s-s-s-s-see your V-V-Verdimi-millious Ch-Ch-Ch-Charm ag-g-g-g-gain.¡±

    Pyram gripped his wand, feeling the room¡¯s temperature drop as if it had turned from burning hot to freezing cold in just a few seconds. He walked up to Quirrell, steps ringing impossibly loud in the quiet classroom. He tilted his head a little as he faced the whiteboard once more, asking Quirrell for the go-ahead.

    When Quirrell gave a shaky nod, Pyram cast Verdimillious again, producing slightly more aggressive green sparks, likely a result of Pyram¡¯s annoyance with himself, that striked their target and made the peculiar ¡°Krkrkrkr!¡± noise, the trademark of the Verdimillious Charm.

    As the effects of the charm wore out, Pyram looked to Quirrell, only to flinch slightly as he realized that Quirrell had stood right beside him from the moment he had cast the spell.

    ¡°Very impressive¡­¡± Quirrell (Voldemort?) muttered, seemingly unaware that Pyram could hear him. Pyram edged away from Quirrell, who then noticed him and told him to move on to his next class.

    As Pyram swiftly took his seat¨Cfacing more towards the front of the class¨C in Professor Flitwick¡¯s class, his eyes lit up and Professor Flitwick asked, ¡°Ah, Mister Claraflam, I heard from Miss Greengrass that your Verdimillious charm was quite exceptional! Would you care to show it to me?¡±

    How did he even tell you so soon? It hasn¡¯t been 10 minutes. Pyram thought with irritation.

    Pyram pinched his nose, clearly vexed that he had to deal with something so stupid, and drew his wand which showed his annoyance by letting out three dark red sparks, all of which gave off a sharp crackling sound.

    Just before Professor Flitwick opened his mouth, Pyram said, again, ¡°Verdimillious,¡± while aiming at a wooden target likely put up for another class.

    The sparks were less vibrant, but that was traded for an even more explosive result, so much so that it burned the wood specifically designed to take spells like it, albeit less strong spells.

    Professor Flitwick, in his cheery fashion, clapped a few times and gave Pyram¡¯s house 20 points. He then began to teach the class¡¯s next lesson; the mending charm.

 Chapter 3

    As the bell rang, Pyram sat up from his seat, stretched, and walked out of class with his legion trailing behind him to Transfiguration class.

    From what he knew, he and his classmates studied about the Switching spell, and today they would be attempting to perform it. Pyram, of course, already had tried it, but it wasn¡¯t difficult enough for Pyram to be truly invested in it. So, in short, Pyram planned on using his Transfiguration class time to perfect the spell. If he managed it before the bell rang¨Cwhich was unlikely¨C, then he would work on his homework.

    Yes, a very good plan indeed. One that his wand agreed with when he asked for its judgment. At this point, Pyram knew that his wand was in some way sapient. Pyram didn¡¯t mind this; it only made decisions less stressful when one had a very experienced friend to ask about them instead.

    And so with this in place, he started thinking about names for his wand. One that had¡­meaning. Like his name, which meant, ¡°bright flame bonfire,¡± if that one Latin dictionary in the library was correct. After his classes, he planned on going to the Will-Do room to pick up a translator for Latin, then he¡¯d find a good name for his wand.

    Pyram nodded to himself as he opened the doors to McGonagall¡¯s classroom, seeing her inside transformed into her signature cat form with the little markings around her eyes. When he saw her, he broke into laughter and wiped away a tear. He had always found Professor McGonagall¡¯s animagus form extremely hilarious. From a powerful, feared witch into a¡­cat!? Pure comedy.

    The ¡°cat¡± looked at him as if it was wondering whether he was a madman or just heard a really good joke from nowhere. Of course, it was the third option. He was just cooler than everyone else.  Still making a hiss-laugh noise with his mouth closed, Pyram stalked into his seat as usual.

    When his eyes passed over the ¡°cat¡± again, he broke into a grin that would make a dolphin frown in concern. It was quite obvious that Pyram¡¯s humor was not skewed at all it was everyone else¡¯s humor that was the problem, Pyram thought as he got to work on practicing the Switching Spell in silence.

    He was working on something mundane for now; two quills, one with a normal feather and another with a feather painted green. They switched within two seconds last he had cast it, but as he did so again and again, the process got faster and faster till the quills switched faster than he could blink. Then he replaced the green quill with a sheet of parchment, and he started the process again.

    By the time class had officially started, Pyram wagered that he would be on top of the class once more. Mcgonagall switched out of her cat form, an odd transformation that Pyram wouldn¡¯t mind studying, startling the class and beginning to lecture the class about safety while performing the switching spell.

    Relatively boring stuff, all of which he ignored because at this point Pyram just didn¡¯t care about his safety. When they got into it, his classmates were struggling a little too hard and complaining after seeing Pyram cast it seemingly effortlessly.

    McGonagall nodded at him in approval and awarded his house another 5 points, the strict (and maybe just a little biased) teacher as she was. A relaxed class for a tired Pyram was pretty much heaven in Hogwarts, so Pyram chose to savor it by putting his head down and resting his eyes.

    Just before the bell rang, Pyram got up and organized his school supplies and told his legion to prepare for their dismissal, as the next class was Herbology and therefore a ways away from McGonagall¡¯s classroom.

    Pyram looked around the blossoming greenhouse; a contrast to the cold environment outside. Dittany was today¡¯s subject. A useful plant, dittany was known to cure shallow wounds when ingested, as when they met a wizard¡¯s stomach acids, the healing magic was siphoned out and drifted over to the wound. Pyram had done a little bit of extra reading when he heard of Danny¡¯s effects.

    Sadly, when class started Pyram learned that they were going to be harvesting the leafy plants for them to later use as ingredients in their Wiggenweld potions in Potions class, which was the period after Herbology. They simply cut off the leaves a little further to the bottom of the stem, the leaves that were ¡°ripe¡±.

    Afterward, Professor Sprout looked over the cuttings and graded them based on how cleanly cut they were, how close the stem was to the leaves, and the quality of the leaves themselves. No one but the three proud Hufflepuffs were rewarded house points, but that was to be expected.

    After reviewing the cuttings Professor Sprout had done and then answering some questions about Dittany¨C ¡°Where did Dittany originate?¡± ¡°How much sunlight does Dittany require?¡± ¨C, the bell rang and Professor Sprout told the class to place their cuttings in their vials, and only after that was Pyram dismissed to go to Potions.

    Pyram had to walk significantly faster to get to Potions before the bell because of this, putting him in a slightly worse mood than he would have been in if he had more time to get to class. Snape noticed this immediately and Pyram found that Snape was significantly more lenient in this class than the others.

    He had simply pointed to the chalkboard and said, ¡°Today you will be brewing the Wiggenweld Potion, it is used more to sterilize or heal minor injuries, and it is also the cure to the Draught of Living Death; the potion I had you all make at the beginning of the year,¡± He drawled while Pyram wondered about the backward logic of the school; why didn¡¯t they make the antidote before they made the poison? Snape then went on to explain the instructions¨Cin more detail¨Con the board.

    As Pyram prepared his ingredients, after he had prepared his workspace, of course, he allowed himself to slowly unravel like a rolled-up scroll without wax. His heartbeat slowed as he fell into motion. After he had prepared all of his easier ingredients and added them to the concoction, he now was at the hardest part. The extremely specific amount of dittany sap.

    After just about 2 straight minutes of slicing, the dittany leaves were chopped enough and he turned his knife to the flat size and crushed the chopped-up leaves, squeezing the juice out. When he had precisely 2.589 tablespoons of the ¡°juice¡±, he poured it into his cauldron and checked off another box in his notebook.

    All he needed to do was stir the potion clockwise for 3 minutes, then counterclockwise for 30 seconds and the potion would be finished. Pyram allowed his thoughts to drift to his wand¡¯s name. Studying another language was hard. Hard to the point where he didn¡¯t even think there was a point in studying another language, but alas he had to.

    Pyram wanted to base his wand¡¯s name on something powerful but also mysterious because that was his wand in a nutshell. Perhaps he could just name it Sethifold, for its wood and core. But isn¡¯t that kinda stupid? He needed something that would simply¡­fit. Something hinting at its greatness.

    Or should he just do the simple route and ask his wand? It would be pretty rude if he didn¡¯t just ask and call his wand ¡°Bob¡±, after all. No, if his wand had a name, Pyram would¡¯ve known about it already. Pyram already had an idea of what his wand¡¯s name would mean anyway, and he daresay it would fit.

    Just before he began going off into a tangent, he felt something a little like a poke in the side; a reminder. Oh right, he was brewing a potion. Pyram stopped stirring for a moment and reversed directions, beginning to count.

    Soon after, he looked at Snape who was diligently glaring at the class with beady black eyes not unlike a vulture searching for its next meal. Snape caught his eye and nodded at Pyram to bring his cauldron over, as was protocol.

    When Snape was done analyzing the cauldron, he gave a curt nod and said, ¡°5 points to Ravenclaw.¡± The sound of knives chopping came to a sudden halt as the other students in his class whipped their heads up to see just who had achieved the impossible.

    Those who were among his legion were impressed and respectful, although some Hufflepuffs exchanged frowns and sneers; obviously, they were a bit jealous of Pyram¡¯s recent endeavors.

    About 20 minutes later, the other students had turned in their potions and the bell rang. Since ¡°flight class¡± was only a couple of lessons and was mostly for muggle borns, there were only a couple of lessons before it was replaced by two smaller periods; math and English. It just wouldn¡¯t make sense if wizards and witches were only good at magic and nothing else.

    The last (technically 2) periods of the day were relatively tame and lax, an easy time for Pyram. In four days the Christmas holiday would start, so during that time Pyram would be staying at Hogwarts, and then¡­wait, where would Pyram go for the Summer holiday?

    Seeing as this was a much more major problem, Pyram halted naming his wand to confront Professor Flitwick about this.

    Pyram knocked on the tall, oak door, asking, ¡°Professor Flitwick, I have a question that I would like to ask.¡±

    From inside he heard a muffled, ¡°Oh, yes, come in, Mister Claraflam.¡±

    As the¡­obedient child that Pyram was, he opened the door and walked in, pulling up a chair in front of Professor Flitwick¡¯s desk and sitting on it almost automatically. He looked up at his Head of house and then inquired with a little nervousness, ¡°Where do I go for the Summer holiday?¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Flitwick held his chin and frowned, ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know. Let me go fetch the Headmaster real quick.¡± To Pyram¡¯s confusion, instead of just getting up to go get Dumbledore, Flitwick tossed a powder into the fireplace and said clearly, ¡°Albus Dumbledore.¡±

    Pyram¡¯s eyes widened at the sight of a¨Cslightly haggard¨C old wizard with pitch black robes step out of the fire only to give a solicitation to Flitwick, ¡°Ah, Filius, why did you call me?¡±

    ¡°Well, you see here, Mister Claraflam and I have just been wondering where he would go for the Summer holidays,¡± Flitwick answered, Pyram nodding along a little hesitantly.

    Dumbledore laughed as if he had just heard a joke, but when neither Pyram nor Flitwick laughed with him, he stopped and asked, ¡°You¡¯re serious, Filius?¡± The Charms Professor only nodded, looking a little embarrassed now.

    The headmaster then cocked his head and slightly narrowed his eyes, thinking. ¡°I suppose I could ask one of his teachers to look after him over the summer,¡± He raised an eyebrow at Filius who shook his head pointedly.

    Am I that bad? Pyram couldn¡¯t help but think.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go send owls to the others, then. When I receive a response, I¡¯ll inform you both.¡± With that out of the way, Albus Dumbledore stepped back into the fireplace and was swept away by a short burst of green flame which soon after turned back to orange.

    There were a few seconds of silence before Flitwick decided to dismiss Pyram, who then walked straight to the seventh floor and into the Will-Do room that supplied him a sheet of paper, a pencil, and a Latin-to-English dictionary.

    He had a few keywords he intended to translate and then combine, to make a cool name that wasn¡¯t odd in any way. One word was simple; assassin. After flipping through many, many pages, he found the word to translate it to; Sicarius. It also meant murderer and killer, but that doesn¡¯t matter. The next word was experienced; Peritus. This word also meant skillful and expert, two more words that described his wand well enough.

    His last word¨Cor rather two words¨C was right-hand. Both because he held his wand in his right hand and because it was like his right-hand-man¡­object. This was translated to Manus Dextra. There were many, many ways to combine these words. He could scramble them up entirely and then put them together like some kind of word puzzle or just cut the words in half to stick them together.

    He decided to go the easy route and give his name a first name, a middle name, and a last name which would be Claraflam by default. The first name he came up with was Manius Pextra, but something about the ¡°pextra¡± didn¡¯t seem quite regal enough, and ¡°manius¡± sounded like madman, and his wand wasn¡¯t mad. Neither was Pyram. His second name was Perus Sictra. A definite no for that one. Too much like Perro. His wand was not a dog.

    The third name, Sinus Peratra, sounded like some kind of disease, but the word ¡°Peratra¡± sounded cool so he decided to keep that for the fourth and final name. Sicarus Peratra Claraflam. The final and complete name for his wand.

    Nodding, proud of himself, he took out his wand, looking at it for a long moment. It was an almost white beige color, the handle fading a little into black and the ¡°stick¡± part of it splotched with a dark silver. Pyram had never really taken the time to look over his wand, although he had spent 2 whole years with it.

    So much had happened since he¡­found it. Pyram shook off the reminiscent feeling and stood up, looking over his notes. With a small thought, a fireplace was conjured in the room and Pyram tossed the notes into it. It wasn¡¯t for any particular reason other than a sense of, ¡°Might as well do this now,¡± that he had done so.

    Walking out of the Will-Do Room, Pyram made his way up to the Ravenclaw Common room once more, walking in the same footsteps as he had stepped in only a few nights ago.

    ¡°Hey, Claraflam, what are you doing every night when you go out?¡± a member of Pyram¡¯s legion by the name of Trevor Boot asked.

    Pyram blinked a few times, caught off-guard by the sudden question Boot had asked mid-spell casting. ¡°When did you know about it?¡± he said instead.

    Boot sighed, ¡°Mate, you aren¡¯t getting out of this. We¡¯ve all known for a while now.¡± Pyram¡¯s legion chorused with a bunch of nods and sheepish, ¡°Yeah..¡±s. All except for a girl named Lyla Leslie, who looked around in confusion.

    Pyram thought for a while, disguising it with a look of extreme uncertainty before changing it into disgruntled acceptance, ¡°I¡¯ve been studying ahead in Ravenclaw¡¯s Room of Requirement.¡± A partially true answer that he wouldn¡¯t be guilty of because he was, in essence, studying ahead. Just on materials the school didn¡¯t exactly teach.

    That answer warranted a couple of seconds of silence while his liege took a few moments to absorb the knowledge. That was until Boot asked him yet another question.

    ¡°You know where it is?¡±

    Pyram tilted his head at Boot, ¡°You don¡¯t?¡±

    And that was how Pyram was now leading his legion to the Will-Do Room. He didn¡¯t think it was bad, but it may be more than a little annoying down the line if they told anyone and he had to do something in secret.

    When they entered the corridor, Pyram stopped and looked back at his legion, ¡°This is as far as I¡¯m taking you. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ll be heading back to the common room to work on that homework Professor Vector assigned us. Remember not to tell anyone else.¡± Of course, if there was a chance that he didn¡¯t have to bother with the problem, then Pyram would take it.

    Leaving his legion behind to scramble around, feeling the walls and floor, he headed up to the common room to work on his argumentative essay about whether dementors were sapient or not. Of course, they would be sapient, otherwise they wouldn¡¯t have the intelligence to know not to attack certain people and guard Azkaban.

    Next was his math homework which he honestly didn¡¯t think was particularly necessary, as muggles were already inventing devices to do all of this without a problem. (ba-dump-shh) After all of that, he made sure that his switching spell was good and brushed up on the seventeenth goblin rebellion.

    When all of his homework was either finished or mastered, he retired to reading a book about useful spells, taking note of Scourgify and Protego, charms that he had been holding off learning for a while. Then, when everything he planned to do was done, it had passed seven o¡¯clock, so Pyram turned off the lights and went to sleep.

    The next week was relaxing. Wake up, eat, go to classes, have lunch, watch his legion struggle to find the Will-Do Room when it was right there in front of them, and do his homework before he went to bed. Life was simple and easy this way with no worries at all.

    Until it wasn¡¯t.

    Pyram was going to Defense against the Dark Arts, as usual, but when he got there Quirrell was extra stuttery and somehow seemed extremely happy about something. Pyram passed it off as Voldemort being in a good mood for a change, but he learned why he was so happy during lunchtime.

    An owl had come to Pyram with a letter while he was drinking some water, and when he opened the envelope, he nearly spat out his water. Quirrell, or rather Voldemort, had decided to look after him for the summer.

    This was completely illogical to Pyram; wouldn¡¯t Voldemort, even if he was able to gather the money to look after a whole child and wasn¡¯t on the run from Aurors (and that would be if Harry didn¡¯t end up killing him), Voldemort wouldn¡¯t have any good reason to take Pyram in¡­unless. Pyram sighed.

    The Dark Lord is trying to recruit me, isn¡¯t he? But I¡¯m not promising enough for him to do so, right? Even if he was interested in my Verdimillious Charm, surely that wasn¡¯t enough to pique Voldemort¡¯s interest, right? Maybe¡­does he know I killed the troll? Pyram¡¯s eyebrows furrowed at this unsettling train of thought, but in the end, he decided to put his worry to the side. It wouldn¡¯t do,  crying over something that might happen in 4 months.

    So he took the letter folded it into his pocket and went back to eating while his legion asked him what the letter was about. Pyram smiled at them and told them that he would be staying in England over the summer.

    When Pyram looked behind him at the Gryffindors¡¯ table, he saw Harry whispering with Hermione and Ron. Seeing the trio in person was a little odd, odd in the sense that he knew Ron would, at some point in the year, be in the Hospital Wing because a dragon hatchling ended up biting him.

    The bell rang a few minutes after and Pyram got up to go to his next class, small prickles of nervousness poking his spine every few seconds.

    A few days after he got his letter, Pyram¡¯s legion found the Will-Do Room. Even when they asked him how to use it, he simply told them, ¡°That¡¯s for me to know and you to¡­maybe, find out.¡± with the same grin he would give McGonagall¡¯s animagus form.

    In the time that his legion took to find the room, Pyram had mastered Scourgify and he didn¡¯t doubt that he could use the charm without an incantation. He had first tried it on water, then mud, then a few drops of his blood. It had cleaned the mess in only a second, leaving nothing remaining.

    Pyram could only think about how useful it would be; he wouldn¡¯t have to take half the time he normally did while showering anymore. It could also, of course, clean up any bad messes he may make in the future. There was no doubt that Dumbledore would learn eventually, but he wanted to keep his prowess at least a little hidden till he could defend himself.

    The next few months were tedious, at best. He didn¡¯t dare go into the Will-Do Room as much anymore, so he didn¡¯t quite get the chance to practice the Protego charm. He did get the chance to fully explore Hogwarts, however. He found two hidden passageways out of Hogwarts. While Pyram doubted he¡¯d need them, it was good to know at least.

    The first one was a passageway that lay behind a mirror on the fourth floor. On a quiet weekend night, Pyram explored it and found that it led to Hogsmeade. The second was inside the hump of a One-Eyed Witch¡¯s statue that led to a sweetshop in Hogsmeade. On top of this, Pyram suspected the Whomping Willow of also being a secret passageway, but he didn¡¯t know where or how to get to the passageway.

    Over this time, he also read up on some textbooks about dangerous beasts and spells, noting down a few interesting ones to look at for later. Dragons he was particularly fond of. Maybe he could have one when he was older or get a job related to them. Before then, he had to focus on his studies and not die.

    He also made sure to read Hogwarts: A History, if only just to see why Hermione was so infatuated with it. When he did so, he could see why. It housed pretty much every fine little detail about the Castle¡¯s enchantments and, of course, its history.

    This was all great, and all, but why did everything feel so¡­ dull?

    He asked his wand this, which responded with a simple phrase, ¡°Excitement is limited here. If you must, find a way to break that limit¡­or, it could be lying right in front of you. You just haven¡¯t opened the door quite yet.¡± After this, his wand went quiet.

    ¡°Open the door? Which door?¡­Oh¡­of course..¡± He had explored Hogwarts, but he had avoided one corridor very purposefully. The third-floor corridor.

 Chapter 4

    Pyram stood just outside a door which, when opened, would reveal a huge dog with three heads and, from what Pyram knew, a terrible temper. Instead of being afraid, Pyram was¡­excited? Determined? Some emotion that just screamed, ¡°READY!¡±

    He gripped Sicarus and smiled. Pyram had chosen the 17th of February, midnight sharp, to test his spells against Fluffy the three-headed dog. To say he wasn¡¯t nervous would be a complete lie, but Pyram was definitely going to try and fight it. Neither Quirrell nor the Troublesome Trio would truly fight against it anyway; they would just play some music for it.

    During his time off to study magical creatures and spells, he knew that they recovered a lot more quickly than normal muggle animals. If Pyram was lucky, Fluffy would even heal before June. A few months would be plenty time to recover from curses, for a magical beast anyway.

    Despite everything, Pyram was still a little afraid of doing this. He didn¡¯t know whether the staff checked on Fluffy regularly, and if they found him in bad shape they¡¯d only secure the stone better. If that happened¡­wait. Wouldn¡¯t it just stop Gryffindor from getting the house-of-the-year cup or something and have an old ¡°immortal¡± couple die?

    Oh, and there was the fact that Pyram was already set on doing this. Should there be any consequences¡­well, there would be consequences and he¡¯d have to deal with them.

    Sicarus reminded Pyram of why he was there with a small point of magic into his palm.

    No more thinking about any consequences, let¡¯s go fight a three-headed dog already!

    Pyram opened the door to find¡­oh. Wrong door, the inside is just an empty classroom. With shame, Pyram moved a door down and opened the door to loud snarling that almost sounded like ten thousand chainsaws going off at the same time.

    He dashed into the room, closing the door behind him and shooting a blinding, ¡°Lumos!¡± into the middle-head¡¯s eyes, making it whine a little and throw off the other heads¡¯ coordination as the middle head attempted to wipe its eyes with its paws when the others tried to run towards Pyram.

    This resulted in a very large and very heavy cerberus tripping over its own paws and thudding onto the cold stone ground, the middle-head even landing chin-first and biting its tongue¨Cevident from the large droplets of blood that fell to the floor when the three-headed dog stood up again.

    This is one dumb animal, Pyram couldn¡¯t help but chuckle a little as he sent his next spell towards Fluffy, ¡°Expulso.¡± As it was a spell he specifically made to be more deadly, it slammed into Fluffy and exploded into its shoulder, making the right head yelp in pain.

    The beast then recovered and, growling with far more gusto than before, pounded towards Pyram, causing him to have to quickly cast his stealth spell that Sicarus had taught him and slink away. As soon as he was out of range, he canceled the spell and saw a now frozen three headed dog.

    Pyram stopped running and sighed, That was far too easy¨C

    His monologue was interrupted by three thunderous barks that went off at the same time, nearly bursting Pyram¡¯s eardrums from how loud it was. By observing this, it took a few seconds for magical creatures¨Cor at least, powerful magical creatures¨C to break the spell.

    The huge dog bared three alarming sets of teeth at Pyram. Before, it had been on the offensive, but now¡­now it was almost scared. He could tell how much its confidence had dropped by it¡¯s lowered tail and rounded hind end.

    After Pyram and Fluffy just watched each other for a few minutes, Fluffy finally decided to back down and brought its muzzles over its canines once more, heads dropping and stepping back. How pitifully annoying.

    Pyram¡¯s eyes darkened as he looked at the cowering dog that was still at least three times his height. Sicarus reacted to his disappointment by sending sharp yet empty pulses through Pyram, all intending to put down the dog further and show it its place in the hierarchy.

    The towering creature let out a whine and lowered itself onto its belly and then onto its back. Pyram furrowed his eyebrows and asked, ¡°Why are you so¡­scared?¡±

    The dog only whined again, the sound echoing throughout the spacious room. Why is everything so easy? When was the last time I struggled with something? Pyram contemplated, almost missing, no, definitely missing the feeling of working towards a difficult goal. Maybe I just need to reach higher¡­yeah, that definitely sounds like something Sicarus would say..

    Pyram gave the quivering dog a sad smile, ¡°I just can¡¯t do this any further,¡± Pyram sighed, ¡°Alright, tomorrow I¡¯ll make it up to you by¡­giving you a huge steak! How does that sound?¡±

    Fluffy lept to its paws and gave three simultaneous¨Cand very excited¨C yaps, almost breaking Pyram¡¯s eardrums again. ¡°It¡¯s a promise, then.¡± Pyram walked up to Fluffy who lied down obediently and patted the middle-head¡¯s nose. When the other two heads whined mournfully, Pyram gave in and pet them too, smiling at the sudden change in the beast¡¯s attitude.

    ¡°You know, I came here because everything was boring and I wanted a challenge,¡± Pyram proceeded to explain himself, ¡°but I¡¯m sort of glad that I didn¡¯t kill you. You¡¯re a very friendly three-headed dog.¡±

    When he saw Fluffy about to maul him with licks, Pyram held a hand up to the middle-head¡¯s nose, ¡°No. We will be setting boundaries- HEY!¡±

    What then commenced was a very sad tale about a poor boy who could not get a certain three-headed dog to stop licking him, resulting in drenched clothes and a now very irritated¨Cbut still poor¨C boy. This wasn¡¯t even mentioning that the middle-head¡¯s tongue was still cut and bleeding, so he was both covered in slobber and blood.

    ¡°Get off me! No, that was not an invitation for more¨Cno, seriously! I¡¯m very serious!¡± Pyram couldn¡¯t help but laugh as Fluffy continued to bombard him with slobbery laps of his tongue, but eventually the huge dog did settle down enough to sit down.

    Pyram sighed and cast Scourgify over his clothes and then himself, ¡°You¡¯re damn lucky I learned this. If I didn¡¯t, I might have just taken away your steak.¡± Hearing this, Fluffy whined.

    ¡°Now, I need to go to bed. Around this time tomorrow, I¡¯ll be back with my promise and we¡¯ll be square. See you later, Fluffy.¡± Pyram waved back at the huge three-headed dog as he walked out of the room, still feeling his clothes for any slobber or blood his charm could have missed despite his diligent practice of the charm.

    The next day went as planned. Get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, go to morning classes, eat lunch, go to afternoon classes, and finally eat dinner and go to Fluffy. Watching Fluffy tear into a huge steak that fast was¡­unnerving for Pyram at least.

    Needless to say, Pyram didn¡¯t visit Fluffy after that because he honestly didn¡¯t like such a rowdy animal that couldn¡¯t listen to basic commands. That day, Pyram decided that should he ever adopt an animal, he would have it properly trained.

    Moving on to the next subject; exams were far too close for Pyram¡¯s comfort. And when Pyram was uncomfortable for the future to come, he prepared for it a little differently than others. This was self-evident as it is, but his legion seemed to have not figured that out quite yet.

    ¡°Claraflam, why aren¡¯t you eating? You must be hungry, right?¡± Boot asked Pyram who sat next to him on the Ravenclaw house table.

    Pyram thought of an excuse before he just went for the truth, ¡°I¡¯m not hungry at the moment.¡±

    For a couple seconds, Boot just gave Pyram an ¡°Anything else?¡±  look, but Pyram never explained further to sate his curiosity. ¡°So it has nothing to do with you waving your wand at your robes?¡±

    Pyram put Sicarus aside for a moment and looked at Boot with disdain, ¡°No, end of story, Boot.¡±  In response to this, Boot rolled his eyes and went back to eating with a slight frown of irritation.

    Naturally, Pyram was just practicing an incantation-less Scourgify charm because that honestly was an extremely useful spell that he couldn¡¯t afford not to have. As for why he was trying it incantation-less, he just wanted to make sure he could use it in different situations effectively.

    This would go for all of Pyram¡¯s spells when he decides to use the Will-Do Room again, although for his more offensive spells, he would be going about silencing them differently. Differently as in he would cast them over and over again and be actually confident about being able to use them incantation-less.

    He didn¡¯t exactly need to do this with his more utility-based spells because those, unless he was extra creative, couldn¡¯t spoil his entire future with a little mistake.

    Now Pyram was in the Will-Do Room in late March after Sicarus had urged him to go there. He was met with three wooden dolls that all had wands in their hands. ¡°Sicarus, what are these for?¡±

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Do you want level one, two, or three?¡±  was Pyram¡¯s wand¡¯s helpful response.

    ¡°For what, Sicarus?¡±

    . . .

    ¡°Fine, level one I guess.¡±

    Immediately, the middle doll sprouted a mouth, jabbed its wand in front of it, and shouted, ¡°Expulso!¡± in a voice all too like Pyram¡¯s. Pyram, acting on instinct, leaped out of the way just before a concentrated explosion launched into the wall behind where he used to stand.

    Before Pyram could react, the doll then roared, ¡°Impedimenta!¡± and Pyram felt like he had been put into a terrible bog that wouldn¡¯t let his feet rise.

    While Pyram was still stuck in place, the doll spoke in a barely audible voice, ¡°Persum Sendere.¡±

    Pyram¡¯s world shut down. Everything had no color, no sound, and no smell. He couldn¡¯t even feel the ground beneath him. In this blank place, Pyram stilled. Even the constant shifting of air Pyram usually heard but tuned out wasn¡¯t there.

    His senses were gone. But wasn¡¯t this a spell Sicarus had taught him? How would the Will-Do Room be able to replicate that? Didn¡¯t all the spells Sicarus gave him have no incantation?

    Pyram blinked once. He blinked twice. The world was back, and along with it, a loud, ¡°BZZZZZT!¡±

    ¡°I suppose that would be acceptable for someone who hasn¡¯t tasted combat before¡­¡± Sicarus mused as Pyram sat, confused on the stone floor of the Will-Do Room.

    After two hours of fighting just the level one doll, Pyram returned to the Ravenclaw common room feeling exhausted, but he was also strangely refreshed and placid, so he happily tutored an academically challenged, for a Ravenclaw, that is, member of his legion in the dormitory.

    All he really had a problem with was Charms, something that came completely natural to Pyram. He obviously wouldn¡¯t tell the guy that he was already able to use non-verbal spells, but he did fix his main problem which was flourishing his wand to the point that the entire wand movement was thrown in the trash.

    ¡°No, Corner, I¡¯m not saying that your ego is the problem, you¡¯re just-¡± Pyram reasoned before being rudely interrupted.

    ¡°You totally are, you git! This whole time, you¡¯ve just been finding new ways to tell me I¡¯m stupid and egotistical¨Cstupidly egotistical!¡± the indignant Michael barked.

    Pyram pinched his nose and flicked his wand, just asking Sicarus to shut Michael the hell up so he might stop and listen to some goddamn reason. So Sicarus, like the good thing it was, promptly started to use the levitation charm to ¡°pull¡± on Michael¡¯s tongue to the point that even Pyram would¡¯ve winced. Quickly canceling the spell like nothing had happened, Pyram then began to explain to Corner what he was trying to convey throughout all the of 10 wasted minutes of his whining.

    ¡°The problem is not your big head or your ego, and no I am not saying you are either of those; it¡¯s the way you move your wand when you try to cast a spell. It¡¯s a little like¡­driving a living car. If you turn the wheel the opposite direction you want to go, you obviously you won¡¯t go that way, so the car would be confused and try to do what you want to do, but also what you told it to do. Same goes with a wand.

    ¡°Now, what you¡¯re doing is waving your wand in such a way that causes this to happen: miscommunication. When you try to cast the Light Charm, instead of simply flicking your wand,¡± he flicked his wand for an example, ¡°you¡­flourish it about and it ends up as a twirl instead of a flick. Wands can sense your intentions, so when you ask it to light up and want it to light up but you don¡¯t let it do any of that, it¡¯d be confusing, right?¡±

    Michael thought for a bit then nodded sheepishly, ¡°I never thought our wands were actually alive¡­just some mumbo jumbo that Ollivander made up.¡± He looked at his wand curiously.

    Pyram nodded with understanding, ¡°The only reason I really care about it is because my wand is very clear about it¡¯s awareness towards my intention. It also doesn¡¯t take any shit from me and will refuse to cast a spell if I don¡¯t use proper form.¡± Pyram smiled wryly, remembering all the times that Sicarus had pretty much screeched at him during the first few years it knew him. It didn¡¯t do that anymore, but all the same.

    Obviously, that last bit was a lie. Sicarus didn¡¯t get confused, like regular wands. Simply because it wasn¡¯t the intellect of the average domesticated animal, but instead closer to a human¡¯s: it could recognise Pyram¡¯s intentions and solely on them. If Pyram flicked his wand, said ¡°Lumos,¡± but intended to cast Sectumsempra, it would go for Sectumsempra. It was a perfect trick during the doll fights, but, sadly, it didn¡¯t last more than two tries.

    Pyram¡¯s legionnaire tried the spell again, managing to produce a light, and even though it was pretty dim, Corner lit up and thanked Pyram, ¡°Woah, you were right! Thanks, mate, I think that was it.¡±

    Pyram, rather embarrassingly, didn¡¯t catch the hint to leave, so he continued to sit there and stare at Corner expectantly.

    ¡°Uhm, you can leave now Pyram.¡±

    Pyram scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat,¡°I¡¯ll leave you to yourself then.¡±

    He then left Corner and went down to the common room.

    Some sixth years were gathered around a nice game of wizard¡¯s chess, and Pyram watched from a distance as a knight, pretty viciously, beheaded a bishop that began to yell at him even as he was swept off the board. When it began to shout slurs one of the sixth years threatened to transfigure it into a chamber pot, effectively shutting it down.

    Everyone else was in a study group for their year or playing some other game, so Pyram just sat on a comfortable couch-chair and fell asleep in the nice atmosphere. The moon was already rising, and Pyram didn¡¯t think it would be terrible to sleep out here just once.

    Hurried steps could be heard, and a boy with dark brown hair and amber eyes quickly descended the stairs, students scurrying out of his way as to not be bowled into.

    ¡°There is no need to reveal yourself, Pyram. You already know what a dragon looks like.¡± an insistent voice growled at him inside his head.

    ¡°And what need is there to start practicing dueling at 11, huh, Sicarus? I¡¯ve been doing what you asked for a while now, and you¡¯ve never given me any reason whatsoever.¡± Pyram muttered to his wand, ¡°I believe I¡¯ve earned some choice by now, and even if I¡¯m seen, it¡¯s not like I really care about disrupting the timeline anymore.¡±

    Sicarus twisted Pyram¡¯s magic, not in a hostile way, more as in a, fine, but just this once, way. Pyram snorted and continued down the stairs till he reached the great hall and briskly walked outside, looking around for the Malfoy boy. He had a good idea of what to do, after Harry and Hermione get their detention, at least.

    He wouldn¡¯t be able to see it unless he was up close, so he swiftly cast Sicarus¡¯s stealth spell, ¡°Frito Furgus,¡± causing a sort of cloak of invisibility made of pure magic to fall onto his being. As it turned out, Sicarus¡¯s spells did have incantations, but Sicarus had manipulated Pyram into thinking his spells were demonic or some shit like that, so Pyram ended up being better at them than he would have been if he started with incantations.

    Pyram had been particularly pissed when Sicarus told him about this, hence why he was now paying him back with some good old insubordinate behavior. This wasn¡¯t to say he wasn¡¯t grateful, but nonetheless; Pyram was still angry with Sicarus.

    Soon enough, Pyram was standing outside Hagrid¡¯s window, peering in. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Hagrid were all gathered around what Pyram knew to be the dragon egg. It was hatching, or at least it was partially cracked. If Ron would just move so he could actually see it¡­

    Finally, Ron moved a step to the side and Pyram laid his eyes on the newly hatched dragon. There wasn¡¯t anything particularly special about this tiny thing, but it gave Pyram a sense of familiarity, of family, if that made any sense. Observing the dragonet, Pyram knew she was a female; the already fiery temper proved that quite easily.

    The little thing was black with a snout resembling that of a young crocodilian. Two stubby reptilian wings protruded from her back, just behind the shoulders with slightly more brown webbing. Little ridges ran along her spine, which was where her species got its name: the Norwegian Ridgeback.

    Pyram¡¯s wonder was interrupted when Hermione shouted, spotting Malfoy who had snuck up next to Pyram at some point. Pyram was this close to using the Impediment Jinx on Malfoy but stopped himself, remembering that Malfoy and the others needed to get their detentions before he could hex the damn brat.

    As Malfoy hightailed it to the castle, Pyram lousily watched him trek halfway up the hill before looking back to the dragonet. She was hidden away now, and all those who had gathered around ¡°Norbert¡± dispersed, whether that be to chase Malfoy or to conceal the very illegally hatched dragon.

    As much as Pyram would have liked to go inside and see her again, he already knew that he had been here long enough. He had gotten what he wanted, anyway. Still under his magic ¡°cloak¡± of invisibility, Pyram stalked up after the trio and Malfoy.

    It was a cool spring night, the Forbidden Forest¡¯s trees rustling in soft winds, creating a sound comparable to the rushing of a river after winter. Pyram was propped up against a tall pine tree at the edge of the wood.

    This time, Sicarus didn¡¯t even try to interfere with Pyram¡¯s latest plan, opting to sit out in exasperated silence. Currently, Pyram was waiting outside the forest so that the moment Malfoy¡¯s detention was over and the little brat was out of sight, he could test a new spell of Sicarus¡¯s out. For science, if you will.

    Malfoy was, after all, quite similar to a convicted federal prisoner that has just recently escaped prison scott-free, and for some reason, completely legally. Now, how could Pyram let something such as that slide?

    Pyram¡¯s thoughts came to a momentary standstill as red sparks could be seen jutting out of the forest. Pyram sighed, leaning against a tree and waited. And waited, and waited¨Ca twig snapped in the shadows of the trees.

    They¡¯re not supposed to be coming out of the forest yet, so what is that? Pyram speculated, peering into the darkness to see a creature much taller than him, staring down with milky white eyes and no pupils. It resembled a skeletal horse with a reptilian face and dark, leathery wings, a little like that of a bat¡¯s.

    He couldn¡¯t quite tell what it was, but one thing was for sure, it was eery. Not exactly scary or intimidating, Pyram was pretty sure it didn¡¯t have violence in mind, but just¡­strange. It tilted its head at him and moved closer. Pyram, in his wonder, let it.

    It was close enough now that any sort of aggression could end badly, but Pyram was still quite sure it wouldn¡¯t harm him. It put its nose into Pyram¡¯s chest and sniffed. Seemingly curious, it sniffed again.

    Then its entire demeanor changed and it reared, lashing out with sharp, claw-like hooves and raked them viciously at Pyram, who couldn¡¯t hope to avoid the slashes and therefore was met with a bloody gash running across his torso. It let out a terrifying shriek, angry and wicked.

    It then slammed those hooves down onto him, pinning him down into the ground. Its mouth was now wide open, revealing no teeth but instead the serrated edges of its ¡°beak¡±. The hooked end pierced into his shoulder, and it bit his arm cruelly, jerking its head as a dog would to a squirrel it had caught.

    Pyram grasped his wand with his left hand and pointed it shakily at the creature, ¡°Subris Tenebito!¡± he screamed, voice laced with visceral pain.

    It fell down limply, but it wasn¡¯t dead. It was just deprived of all its senses, and it would undoubtedly be confused and disoriented when it woke up, but Pyram wouldn¡¯t be there for when it did.