Trust and Betrayal: A Prequel

10. Magick Moste Potente

- Summer 1977 -

Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Has that kept you safe?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"To keep secrets from your husband?"

Lily nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She felt Esmé's steadying hand on her arm.

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

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

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

"What was it like?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*******

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

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

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

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

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

*********

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

"Owl message for you, my boy."

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

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

Severus,
Have it ready by 3:00 p.m. today.
LM

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

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

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

Aduro Sanguineum.

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

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

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

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

It wouldn't be that difficult, he thought.

I can do this.

And he did.

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

*********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I look forward to receiving it, Lucius."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They all stared at him.

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

That seemed to satisfy them as they nodded in understanding.

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

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

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

The boys all fidgeted, feeling suddenly flushed.

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

********

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

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

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

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

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

Sirius turned to Remus and Peter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James groaned. "Sirius! Was that necessary?"

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

"It did, you wanker," scowled Peter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*******

A/N :

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

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

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

Thanks to my ever diligent beta, celtmama, who can sniff out an errant comma a mile away.