HP: Infinite Talent, Ch 41-42

Chapter 41 – Don’t Let Rules Box You In

The Restricted Section of the library could only be entered with a signed note from a Professor—that was something Ark had known for a long time.

Originally, his plan was to finish reading everything outside the Restricted Section first, then find a way to get a Professor’s permission to go in.

He hadn’t expected things to turn out this way. After all the chaos from earlier, not only had he escaped punishment—he’d somehow earned himself that coveted note of access.

It was a surprise, but a pleasant one.

So, after lunch, Ark wasted no time heading for the library.

He didn’t make it far before someone stopped him.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this—Ark, you actually used magic to attack someone!”

Hermione Granger was clutching a stack of books to her chest, hurrying alongside him as she lectured nonstop on the way.

“Patil—well, the one from our House—told me about it, and I honestly thought she was joking! But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“How could you do something like that?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get punished?”

Hermione sounded genuinely upset, her voice filled with disbelief and worry. She hadn’t stopped talking since they left the Great Hall, and Ark couldn’t help but give a helpless smile.

“So what you’re saying is, I should’ve just stood there and let Malfoy insult me, right?” he asked lightly.

“Of course not!” Hermione shook her head without hesitation. “But there are better ways to handle things, aren’t there? You could’ve gone to a Professor and let them deal with it. Violence is never the right answer!”

Coming from a rule-abiding witch like her, that wasn’t exactly surprising.

But—

“If I was wrong,” Ark countered calmly, “then why didn’t the Professors punish me? Do you think they’re biased toward me? Or that their judgment is wrong?”

Hermione faltered. “I…”

“See?” Ark smiled faintly. “If I wasn’t punished, that means I wasn’t the one in the wrong—or at least, not completely. You think using force is always wrong because that’s what the Muggle world taught you. But even in the Muggle world, the law allows for self-defense.”

He continued evenly, his tone steady but firm.

“Maybe in the Muggle world, hitting someone for an insult would make you the aggressor. But here, in the Wizarding World, using filthy language to degrade someone is far worse than being hexed.”

“If someone gets hurt, there are plenty of spells to heal them in seconds. But if someone’s wounded inside, if they suffer real emotional damage, then unless you use a Memory Charm to erase it, there’s no spell or potion that can fix that. Understand?”

Ark’s tone had taken on a rare hint of sternness, and it was Hermione’s turn to fall silent.

He knew she was worried about him—she always was. But whether she was trying to help or just anxious, Hermione’s biggest flaw was her tendency to lecture. And no matter how good her intentions, it often rubbed people the wrong way.

Ark had known that for a while but had never said it aloud. Their friendship was still new, and he’d thought it wasn’t his place to point out her habits. Sometimes, after all, the truth hurt more than lies.

But now, things had changed. They were close enough that honesty wouldn’t break anything between them.

“Your mindset needs a bit of adjusting, Hermione,” Ark said gently, softening his voice. “Rules are dead things—people aren’t. Some rules are sacred, sure, but others? If you follow them blindly, you’re not being disciplined, you’re just living inside an invisible cage.”

“Think about it. Why do we study in the first place?”

“To learn rules? To make ourselves dull and rigid?”

“No. We study to improve ourselves—to grow stronger, smarter, better.”

He looked at her seriously.

“So when someone comes along and insults you, mocks your blood, tries to strip away your worth—what should you do? Run to someone else for help? Or use what you’ve learned to fight back, to protect yourself and the people you care about?”

Ark shook his head slightly. “No one admires someone who just stands there and takes it. So, my friend—don’t let rules box you in. You’ve got a brilliant mind. Use it to think, not to chain yourself—or others.”

Leaving her standing there speechless, Ark turned and walked toward the library.

Some lessons could only be hinted at—the rest, she’d have to understand on her own.

He hadn’t just been defending himself; he wanted Hermione to understand something deeper: being Muggle-born didn’t make them lesser.

He’d stood up to a so-called Pure-blood today—and he hadn’t been punished.

If you’re strong enough, capable enough, then those who try to make you feel inferior will crumble before you. There’s no reason to ever feel small.

“I hope she figures it out,” Ark murmured, sighing softly as he stepped inside the library.

He handed Professor Flitwick’s signed note to Madam Pince, who examined it over and over before finally, and very reluctantly, letting him through.

“This note is valid for one week,” she warned sternly. “Once it expires, you’ll need another signed permission slip from a Professor. Understand?”

She gave him several more sharp warnings before allowing him to proceed.

Ark walked deeper into the library, past the rope barrier, and into the Restricted Section.

The atmosphere changed immediately. It was eerily still—no footsteps, no voices, not even the faint rustle of pages turning. The air felt thicker, darker, almost charged with hidden danger.

Some of that danger came straight from the books themselves.

These weren’t ordinary texts. Some were banned for their content, some recorded forbidden Dark Arts, and some were magical artifacts in their own right—ready to lash out at anyone foolish enough to touch them.

Ark treaded carefully, avoiding direct contact as he examined the shelves.

Powerful Potions, The Deadliest Magic, The Book of Spells, A Study on the Cruelties of Medieval Magic, The Witch-Hunts: A History… The titles alone were enough to make his pulse quicken.

Some books emitted faint trails of black smoke; others whispered to themselves in eerie voices. A few made his head spin just from a glance, while one suddenly twitched, making a sharp sound that nearly made him jump.

“Good thing I never snuck in here at night,” Ark muttered. “Would’ve scared me half to death.”

He reached out to test one—only for the book to snap open and try to bite him.

Ark jerked his hand back quickly and scowled at it before moving on.

Finally, on a high shelf, he found what he’d been hoping for: a thick volume titled Theories of Space.

At first glance, it looked like a dense philosophical treatise—but inside were intricate studies of spatial magic. Several advanced spells dealing with space manipulation were meticulously described.

Ark’s eyes brightened as he skimmed the pages.

There it was—the Undetectable Extension Charm, and even better, the spell he’d promised himself he’d learn before coming to Hogwarts: Apparition.

The book even included instructions for creating Portkeys and explained the inner workings of Floo Powder and the Floo Network—powerful magics, either restricted or outright banned for private use by the Ministry of Magic.

It was exactly what Ark had been searching for.

“The rest can wait,” he murmured, excitement flickering in his eyes. “But the Extension Charm and Apparition—I have to master those.”

With them, he’d never again need to lug around a massive trunk—or waste hours traveling from one place to another.

Without hesitation, Ark settled into a chair, opened the book, and began to read…

Chapter 42 – Even Wizards Need to Understand the Ways of the World

Time passed quietly as Ark kept up his strict study routine.

After a few minor incidents, every young wizard—including Ark—had finally adapted to life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The excitement and confusion of the first weeks had settled into a steady rhythm.

While others were busy enjoying school life, Ark managed to do both—enjoy himself and keep up his studies. Outside of class, he was either in the dormitory or the Library. Every night, without fail, he slipped away to the Room of Requirement to practice magic and hone his combat skills.

During this time, a rumor began spreading like wildfire: Ark had taken on more than ten Slytherin students—alone—and walked away without a scratch.

Everyone at Hogwarts heard about it. Shocked whispers turned to awed murmurs, and people’s attitudes toward him began to shift.

Slytherin’s reaction was predictable. Those who had merely disliked him before now despised him outright. Every time he passed, their eyes followed him—cold, venomous, patient, like snakes biding their time in the grass.

In Ravenclaw, the change was subtler. Many of the students who had once sneered at him now avoided eye contact, suddenly unwilling to provoke him. They still thought highly of themselves, but now that pride came laced with caution.

Gryffindor, on the other hand, had warmed up considerably. To them, anyone who stood up to Slytherin was practically a friend by default. Simple logic, lion-style.

As for Hufflepuff… well, they were the same as ever—gentle, kind, and too laid-back to be bothered.

By now, everyone understood that the polite, mild-mannered young wizard from Ravenclaw wasn’t someone you could push around. Once he decided to act, he didn’t hesitate—and that made him far more dangerous than those who only ever mouthed off.

It earned him a few wary looks—but it also cut down on a lot of unnecessary trouble.

At least no one dared to mutter insults about him within earshot anymore. Even the Slytherins who had been hexed and humiliated couldn’t do anything. After writing home to complain, they’d received no help at all—their indulgent parents had no way to interfere with anything that happened inside Hogwarts. Frustrated and fuming, the boys had no choice but to lie low for now, waiting for an opportunity to get even.

As a result, Ark’s surroundings were now much quieter than before.

Except for one particular group.

The witches.

Not only were they not afraid of him, some seemed to find him even more fascinating. A few of the older girls—those who usually wouldn’t bother with younger students—had even started reaching out. Some wrote him letters.

And really, who could resist? A handsome, courteous, intelligent, and powerful young wizard—one who could stand up for himself and defend his honor when it mattered? That combination was hard to ignore.

The closer a witch was to graduation, the clearer she understood what a valuable ally a powerful wizard could be in the Wizarding World. A little friendship—or flirtation—was a small price to pay for future security.

Thanks to that, Ark began receiving letters from witches claiming to be his fans. Some wanted to become pen pals; others wrote outright love confessions, complete with handmade gifts—cookies, sweets, little trinkets.

Ark didn’t mind making friends, but the snacks? Those, he didn’t dare eat.

Who knew if someone had slipped a love potion into them?

He was still young, and he had no intention of being devoured—figuratively or otherwise—by the older girls.

To his surprise, even Cho Chang sometimes wrote to him, sending friendly greetings. And once, he even received a letter from the fourth-year girl Ron had called the prettiest at Hogwarts—Clivatt, a senior in Ravenclaw—who wanted to be pen pals as well.

“So this is what fame feels like,” Ark mused.

He was starting to understand just how far strength could get you in the Wizarding World.

Of course, he wasn’t naïve. He knew most of these witches weren’t truly his “fans,” and they probably weren’t in love with him either. They were networking—casting lines early, hoping to stay on his good side in case he became someone important someday. It was a kind of social investment.

Still, as long as he kept improving, their enthusiasm would only grow stronger.

“Even in the Wizarding World,” Ark murmured, “you still have to understand how people work.”

In the end, he politely declined several confessions but kept in touch with a few as pen pals—Cho among them, as well as Clivatt.

Sometimes Cho invited him to read together in the Library or go fishing by the Black Lake during breaks. Clivatt, on the other hand, kept their friendship purely on parchment—they never met in person.

Meanwhile, his existing friends grew closer to him. Padma Patil always sat beside him in class, walked next to him in the halls, and even shared a seat near him in the Great Hall.

Her twin, Parvati, often sent little gifts through her sister—and occasionally joined them for walks, much to the dismay of several jealous Gryffindor boys.

As for Hermione Granger, after that conversation in the corridor, she showed up the next day as if nothing had happened. She still studied with him and spent time reading by his side.

Outwardly, she hadn’t changed much—but Ark noticed the difference. She’d grown quieter, more thoughtful. She even started borrowing books about social dynamics and how to handle interpersonal relationships—and read them seriously.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw Granger lecture someone,” Parvati had remarked one day, laughing softly.

As Hermione’s roommate, she’d noticed the change firsthand. Hermione was no longer showing off her knowledge at every turn. The dorm felt much calmer now.

Ark had worried she might withdraw into herself, but she hadn’t. Around him, she was still the same—just... less preachy.

“Maybe she’s thinking things through,” he thought. “Reflecting. Trying to change.”

He didn’t bring it up. He just continued treating her the same as always.

Gradually, autumn deepened, and winter crept into Hogwarts.

By late October, the chill in the Scottish air was biting. Students began layering up beneath their robes, bundling themselves in scarves and gloves.

Those who didn’t soon paid the price—sneezing, coughing, and walking around with steam puffing out of their ears after drinking Pepperup Potion.

But the cold didn’t dampen anyone’s spirits. If anything, excitement was building.

Because Halloween was just around the corner.

…

Halloween—originally All Hallows’ Eve—developed from the blending of ancient Celtic Samhain festivals (dating to around 500 B.C.) and the Catholic observance of All Saints’ Day, formally established in the 9th century A.D. Over time, the tradition spread across Christian Europe, including France, Germany, and Italy, becoming both a religious and cultural day of remembrance.

In theory, wizards should have rejected it outright, given their long, bloody history with the Church. But modern wizarding culture had been increasingly influenced by the Muggle world, and holidays like Halloween, Christmas, and Valentine’s Day had found their way into wizard society.

At Hogwarts, Halloween was one of the biggest celebrations of the year.

By the end of October, the entire castle had transformed. Pumpkins, bats, and orange streamers adorned the halls. The Great Hall in particular had been decorated magnificently, glowing with festive charm.

On the morning of Halloween Eve, the halls were filled with the delicious scent of roasted pumpkin, and even the ghosts were in high spirits, floating cheerfully through walls and performing little shows for amused students.

The whole school buzzed with energy.

Ark, too, felt the mood—but beneath his calm expression, his thoughts were elsewhere.

Because he knew—something was going to happen today.