Harry Potter: Bloodling

The cloth quivered, its edges blurring like a loose watercolour.

A hazy shape flickered into existence—something resembling a swan, its neck arched proudly, though its outline sputtered in and out of focus.

The girl bit her lip and tightened her grip on her wand, forcing the image to sharpen.

Eventually, a shadowy swan spread its wings, drifting a few inches above the cloth's surface.

"Oh," she breathed, more surprised than triumphant. "It actually worked."

Elijah inclined his head in approval. "A graceful form indeed."

He studied the swirling darkness with a small smirk on his lips.

Manipulating shadows, he mused, 'tis almost poetic… though hardly the darkest art I have wielded.

Yet there was something oddly satisfying about shaping gloom into a fleeting shape—like weaving the lovely threads of night.

Slater's swan flickered again, and with a final sputter, its wings collapsed into curls of mist. She sighed but offered a timid smile. "Your turn?"

Elijah rolled his shoulders as though brushing off an invisible weight.

Then, with a simple flick, he snapped Oliver Graves's wand into his hand.

His posture was easy, utterly lacking the tension or anxiety that was prominent in the other students attempting to cast the spell.

Let us see if centuries of magical exposure are adequate for Hogwarts' curriculum, he thought, calm confidence undercut with the faintest thread of caution. One must never reveal too much…

He traced the same spiral. "Umbraculum Apparare!"

The cloth jerked, sending a ripple of shadow up the wall behind it.

The darkness condensed into a slender, sinuous form, a ripple of inky smoke coiling at Elijah's command.

With the edges still trembling, the shadow began to gain definition—soft curves and delicate lines.

Marie Slater, hovering at his side, watched wide-eyed as the silhouette hardened into something unmistakably human.

A hush seemed to settle around them, broken only by the faint murmurs of nearby classmates attempting the same charm.

Swiftly, the swirling gloom resolved into a miniature likeness of Marie herself, standing no taller than a hand's breadth above the cloth.

The tiny figure's shadowy hair fell about its shoulders, and its face, though featureless by normal standards, captured the tilt of Marie's head with eerie precision.

It moved its arms shyly, echoing the nervous stance of its real-life counterpart.

For a moment, neither of them spoke—Marie because she was too astonished to find her voice, and Elijah because he observed his conjuration with measured calm, wand still raised.

Such an amusing reflection of the girl, he thought, the barest curve touching his lips. But I must mind my display. Too much realism, and I'll draw more scrutiny than I desire.

With a careful twist of his wrist, Elijah dispelled the figure.

Shadows dissolved back into the cloth like water drawn into a sponge.

A slight exhalation swept through the watching students, many of whom had halted their own practice to stare in a mixture of fascination and unease.

Marie blinked, heat rising to her cheeks. "That… that was me," she whispered, half in disbelief. "How did you—?"

Elijah inclined his head with old-fashioned courtesy. "Merely a whim, Miss Slater. The mind conjures swiftly when it has a model so near—especially one so beautiful." He lowered his wand, allowing the black cloth to settle, and charmed her with a smile. "I trust you are not displeased."

She stammered, "N-no, of course not. It was just… unexpected." Her cheeks remained flushed, though whether from embarrassment or admiration, it was difficult to say.

A squeak of excitement from the front of the room indicated that Professor Flitwick had been watching as well.

The diminutive Charms master stood on tiptoe atop his stack of cushions, eyes shining.

"My, my! Fascinating!" he exclaimed, hurrying over with small, quick steps. "Excellent control, Ol—Elijah. Such intricate detail!"

Elijah turned slightly, offering the professor a polite smile. "I could not have achieved that without your guidance, Professor."

Flitwick's eyes crinkled in delight. "Nonsense, dear boy! It's admirable work, one I'm sure I had nothing to do with. Twenty points to Ravenclaw! Keep up the good work."

With that, the professor bustled off to assist other students, though not without casting another impressed glance at Elijah's corner of the room.

A soft buzz passed through the classmates, fuelled by half-spoken questions.

Marie, regaining some composure, ventured a tentative smile at Elijah.

"Thank you for partnering with me," she murmured, fiddling with her wand. "I—I know we've never really spoken before, but… you're quite good at Charms. Would you mind helping me with a spell or two in the future?"

Elijah responded with a slight bow and a courteous, "I should be delighted, Miss Slater."

His dark eyes lingered on her for a moment, calculating.

While tutoring was hardly part of his plans at Hogwarts, perhaps cultivating such a connection could prove... useful.

I do need to feed occasionally after all.

The thought curved his lips into another mysterious smile.

Slater offered him a small, grateful smile.

Before long, the class finished, and Professor Flitwick tapped his wand on a levitated notebook, sending sparks into the air as a signal for attention. "All right, everyone! That's enough for today. Excellent effort across the board. Umbraculum Apparare is no easy feat. Keep at it, and remember—exhaustion can unravel even the strongest illusions. We'll pick up the next session with more advanced techniques and control exercises."

As the students began to disperse, chatter broke out in earnest—excited comparing of each other's creations and hushed talk of Elijah's uncanny ability.

Marie carefully folded the black cloth, casting a thoughtful glance his way. "Would you mind if we practised together again… tonight?" she asked hesitantly.

Oh my. She's an eager one, Elijah mused, watching her nervous fidgeting with detached amusement.

Slater was like a moth drawn to a flame, unaware of the imminent danger she was in.

"But, of course," he replied smoothly, gathering his books with unhurried grace. "The library, perhaps? Or do you have any other place in mind?"

Marie brightened, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "The library would be perfect."

Something predatory glinted in Elijah's eyes, though his expression remained pleasantly neutral.

"It is set, then. After you," he said, gesturing toward the door with an elegant sweep of his hand.

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You can read 4 unedited chapters ahead in the discord server, and provide me with some much needed ideas. God knows that the story's progression isn't set in stone.

[https://discord.gg/u7bnUymmRu]