Sorcerer in the world of magic

The Christmas holidays, so long-awaited and so fleeting, had come to an end. Hogwarts, which had been in a cozy semi-slumber for two weeks, began to stir back to life. Students were returning. Enchanted suitcases clattered along the stone corridors, muffled shouts of joy echoed as friends reunited, and the air filled with the anticipation of a new term. Stephen, despite his exhaustion from Snape's "labor therapy," felt a slight relief. The monotonous cleaning was over, and now he could return to normal life—that is, to books, research, and perhaps new mysteries.

The first few days after the holidays were always chaotic. The class schedule seemed longer than usual, homework piled up like an avalanche, and everyone had to readjust to the academic rhythm. Professors, well-rested and full of energy, unleashed new topics and tests upon the students. Stephen, as always, easily coped with the academic load, but he felt that his mind, accustomed to surgical precision and deep analysis, now needed more complex tasks than simple memorization.

During History of Magic class, which, as usual, was led by the ghost Professor Binns, monotonously mumbling about the Goblin Rebellion of 1752, Stephen noticed Harry and Hermione sitting together, whispering animatedly and casting quick, almost conspiratorial glances his way. He caught snippets of phrases: "...Stephen told you... Nicholas Flamel... Philosopher's Stone..." Stephen understood what they were talking about. Harry, of course, had shared the information he had learned from Stephen.

Soon, Hermione cautiously moved closer to Stephen, her eyes burning with curiosity and dozens of unasked questions. "Stephen! Where did you find the information about Flamel? I searched the library, but I couldn't find anything!" she whispered, leaning towards him.

Stephen looked at her, trying to maintain an impassive expression. "I'm interested in alchemy, Hermione. Of course, I know such a great alchemist."

"Yes, but how do you know the Stone is hidden in the school?" Hermione persisted, her eyebrows arched in question.

Stephen couldn't admit he'd known it from a past life, so he replied, choosing his words carefully: "I conducted my own little investigation after stumbling upon a three-headed dog on the third floor. It was obvious it was guarding something, and my knowledge of alchemy helped connect the pieces of the puzzle."

Hermione's eyes widened in amazement. "So you saw Fluffy too?"

Stephen paused for a moment before answering: "Interesting why 'Fluffy,' though. That name doesn't suit him at all."

Hermione smiled, her usual seriousness easing slightly. "Hagrid named him that. He has a strange habit of giving cute names to scary magical creatures."

They continued to talk until the end of the lesson, discussing details and possible consequences. Stephen answered evasively, yet informatively enough to keep Hermione interested and guide her thoughts in the right direction without revealing his main secrets.

After class, as students spilled noisily into the corridor, Stephen felt an unkind gaze on him. Turning, he saw Draco Malfoy, who, like a vulture, was scanning for prey. Beside him, as usual, stood Crabbe and Goyle, his two loyal bodyguards, resembling dull thugs. Malfoy's smirk, full of arrogance and contempt, boded nothing good. He purposefully moved directly towards Stephen, ignoring those around him.

"Oh, look who it is!" Malfoy drawled, his voice echoing through the corridor, drawing attention. "Stephen Strange, our great... cleaner!"

Malfoy stopped a couple of steps from Stephen, blocking his path. The smile on his face widened, and his eyes gleamed with malice.

"I heard, Strange," he continued, mockingly lowering his voice but loud enough for everyone around to hear, "that you had to spend Christmas scrubbing Snape's cauldrons. They say you even showed off your... special talent for cleaning."

He took a step forward, almost nose-to-nose. "I think such talent shouldn't go to waste. How about cleaning my room? It's a bit messy, you know!"

A spiteful grimace was plastered on Malfoy's face, and Crabbe and Goyle guffawed, covering their mouths with their fists. Other students had already gathered around them, curiously awaiting developments. Hermione, standing next to Harry, paled and opened her mouth to say something, apparently intending to defend Stephen.

But Stephen raised a hand, stopping her. His gaze was calm, his body completely relaxed, but a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes. "It's alright, Hermione," he said quietly, not taking his eyes off Malfoy. "I'll handle this myself."

Malfoy beamed with a smug smile, apparently deciding that Stephen was scared and would comply with his threats.

"Well, Strange? What time should I expect you today?" He even took a step forward, trying to overwhelm Stephen with his self-confidence.

Stephen slowly lowered his hand. In truth, he was pleased with this turn of events. He needed a release after being forced to spend an entire day with Snape, scrubbing other people's cauldrons, and Malfoy had offered himself up as a lightning rod.

Stephen looked Malfoy directly in the eyes. A thin, almost imperceptible, yet chilling, almost predatory smile appeared on his face. It wasn't a smile of joy, but rather of anticipation. Stephen's gaze was so piercing and cold that the smirk slipped from Draco's face. Malfoy involuntarily flinched, trying to hide it by pulling back his former arrogance.

Stephen took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts, or simply to emphasize the absurdity of the situation. Then, without a word, he made a subtle, fluid hand gesture. It was unlike any known spell. No light erupted from Stephen's palm, not a single word was uttered, but the air around Malfoy abruptly thickened, as if turning into an invisible wall.

Draco Malfoy was thrown backward with such force that he slammed into the opposite corridor wall with a dull thud, then collapsed onto the floor, knocking the wind out of him. His eyes widened in shock and pain, his robes crumpled.

Crabbe and Goyle, snapping out of their momentary stupor, simultaneously began frantically drawing their wands. But Stephen was faster. His hand, which he had just lowered, made another barely perceptible movement, as if he were flicking off invisible dust.

Instantly, on either side of Crabbe and Goyle, two transparent, trembling, jelly-like magical columns appeared. They enveloped their bodies, pinning the unfortunate thugs to the corridor wall. Their wands, barely emerging from their robes, hung helplessly in the air, while they themselves dangled, crucified, struggling with all their might to move but unable to even make a sound. Their faces contorted with a mix of fear, confusion, and slight panic.

Stephen, maintaining the same cold, almost indifferent smile, slowly approached Malfoy, who was still lying on the floor. Draco tried to catch his breath, staring at Stephen with wide, terror-filled eyes. Mercilessly, Stephen placed his foot on Malfoy's chest, pinning him to the floor. Not hard enough to break bones, but enough to deprive him of movement and full breaths.

He slowly bent over Malfoy, bringing their faces level. Stephen's icy gaze pierced Malfoy.

"You didn't just cross a line, Malfoy," Stephen said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, but which sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it. "You stepped onto a path from which there's no return. Remember that while you can still breathe."

He straightened up, removing his foot from Malfoy's chest. Malfoy remained lying there, breathing heavily, humiliated and defeated. Stephen cast a final glance at Crabbe and Goyle, still stuck to the wall, then made another light hand gesture. The magical columns vanished as suddenly as they had appeared, and the two brutes flopped to the floor, landing heavily.

Harry and Hermione stared at Stephen in utter astonishment. Their faces expressed a mixture of shock, admiration, and slight fear. Other students who had witnessed the scene stood in complete silence, their jaws dropped.

"Well, I guess we should go," Stephen said, as if nothing had happened, turning to Harry and Hermione. "We seem to have our next classes."

He calmly walked past the dumbfounded Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, leaving them lying on the corridor floor, humiliated and defeated. Behind Stephen, muffled whispers could be heard, which soon escalated into a turbulent discussion of what had transpired.

Stephen knew he might get into trouble with Snape or even McGonagall for this. But the deep satisfaction he felt from putting Malfoy in his place was worth it. Some lessons are only learned through pain... and humiliation.