Chapter 51 Dark Magic Talent

"I will consider it." Professor McGonagall remained noncommittal, fixing her gaze on Harry, whose eyes were shining with excitement as she warned, "I expect to hear about your rigorous training in Quidditch, otherwise... Potter, I will reconsider your joining the team."

Hearing that his Head of House was letting him join the Quidditch team, Harry's cheeks flushed red and he was left speechless. He nodded repeatedly, his eyes flashing with determination as he shouted inwardly: "Beat Slytherin!"

At dinnertime, Harry couldn't wait to share the news of joining the team with his good friend Ron, asking him to keep it a secret.

"Seeker?" Ron's eyes widened in shock, staring blankly at Harry, unable to believe his ears.

"Harry, way to go!" Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, walked over with grins. They whispered, "Wood told us everything. Harry, with you as our secret weapon, we'll definitely wipe the floor with Slytherin..."

Harry's heroic performance in flying class quickly spread throughout the school. Everyone cast knowing glances at Malfoy from time to time, discussing Harry's natural talent.

"Next year, with Harry joining Gryffindor, they'll definitely become our formidable rival," Marcus said, chewing on a beef and kidney pie with a worried look.

"Roger, some players are graduating next year, which will leave a few spots open. Interested in trying out?" Marcus called out to Roger, who was about to leave, assuming Roger's talent in Quidditch was just as exceptional as his skill in charms.

"Me?" Roger pointed at himself in surprise, thinking Marcus was joking.

"Marcus, I have zero interest in Quidditch; I actually feel like casting a few Unforgivable Curses on it." Roger shook his head and gestured toward Malfoy, who was looking rather gloomy in the distance. "You could let Malfoy try out. At least he's much more suited for Quidditch than I am."

Hearing Roger's recommendation, Malfoy was taken aback at first. He hadn't expected the other boy to recommend him, especially since they had just been arguing that very morning. He quickly straightened his back to prove that he was ready and could be evaluated by Marcus at any moment.

"But this afternoon's events showed that Harry is a bit better..." Marcus hesitated, unsure whether to add Malfoy to the preliminary list.

"If Draco joins the team, the Malfoy family could at least sponsor the team with some Nimbus 2000s." As a member of Slytherin, Roger naturally hoped his own house would win.

"I'll think about it." Marcus hadn't made up his mind yet; he was still considering who would be best matched against Harry next year. His hesitation left Malfoy feeling dejected.

"Crabbe, Goyle, follow me." Malfoy stood up angrily, deciding to go find Harry to vent his frustration.

Down in the Hogwarts dungeons, Snape was inspecting the Memory Potion Roger had submitted.

"Head of House, if I were to drink a Felix Felicis before brewing potions, would my success rate be even higher?"

"And then?" Snape turned his head coldly, his dark eyes staring gloomily at Roger.

He sternly warned the young wizard, "Discard your petty cleverness. Felix Felicis only ensures success, it doesn't teach you how to achieve it."

"I told you in our very first class that potion-making is a precise science and a rigorous craft. Felix Felicis would simply ruin a potion-maker. If you can't even grasp such a simple truth, it seems I truly overestimated you."

"Go process that pile of staghorn weed into one-inch segments." Seeing Roger lower his head to admit his mistake, Snape did not let him off lightly, issuing a merciless command.

The pile of hard, sharp staghorn weed in the corner was one of the ingredients for the Memory Potion. If one were to use the Severing Charm carelessly, it would ruin the entire plant. To be honest, this stuff was quite expensive. To brew his potions, Roger used to carve out one-inch lengths using a knife, bit by bit.

"Are you a Muggle? Do you not know how to use a wand?" Snape caught sight of Roger picking up a knife and lashed out mercilessly.

"Professor, would the Severing Charm work?" Roger waved his wand, then obediently put it away under Snape's look of absolute disdain.

"You mean every time you brewed potions before, you used a knife to process the ingredients?" Snape asked suspiciously.

Seeing Roger nod, anger flared up within him, and his pale face grew even paler. "From now on, hand over ten bottles each time."

"Ten bottles?"

"Not enough? Make it twenty!" Snape placed Roger's submitted Memory Potion into the cabinet and retrieved an old book from inside.

"Learn this spell, and then finish processing those."

Seeing the book was titled *Herbology*, Roger figured it must have been one of Snape's textbooks from his student days.

"Impressive, actually developing Sectumsempra based on the Severing Charm." Roger looked up at Snape, offering deliberate flattery wrapped in feigned ignorance. "Professor, who developed this spell? It's brilliant! A true genius of spellcraft!"

"Stop blathering and get on with processing the staghorn weed." Snape pulled his cloak tight, his tone remaining cold. "If you don't finish processing them today, you can stay right here and don't bother going back!"

He left the office without looking back, striding away with a barely suppressable lightness in his step.

"He's quite the proud one, isn't he?" Roger smiled, sitting down to study Sectumsempra carefully.

As an upgraded version of the Severing Charm, Sectumsempra maintained the foundation of the original spell while receiving a comprehensive enhancement.

First of all, when using it to process ingredients, the wand would not show any obvious signs of magic. Imagine how foolish it would look to have your wand shooting sparks while you were slicing potion components.

Sectumsempra operated quietly, offering precise and rapid cuts, making it the ultimate spell for a potion-maker handling ingredients. With just a wave of the wand, one could perform delicate and smooth cuts on objects. Most importantly, it could tear plant tissues apart thoroughly, which was crucial for enhancing the medicine's potency.

Roger chanted the incantation and felt a distinct flow of magic. This magical energy exuded a cold, gloomy aura, as if all warmth and vitality were being sucked away.

In Roger's consciousness, it swirled like an ominous vortex, resembling the low pressure before a storm. This subtle sense of oppression inexplicably stirred the dark depths of his inner soul, causing countless negative emotions to boil alongside the fluctuations of magic.

When the spell was released from the tip of his wand, Roger clearly felt sharp, dark arrows flying toward the staghorn weed. That cold, despairing aura made all vitality seem as fragile and helpless as a dandelion in its path.

The staghorn weed fell silently into two halves, as if it had always been meant to be that way.

"As expected of the Half-Blood Prince, his mastery of Dark Arts is indeed profound. Could my Dark Affinity refer to the Dark Arts?" Roger gave a wry smile, unconsciously waving his hand, and the staghorn weed snapped apart on cue.

Roger Travis
Magic Power: 13/15
Mental Strength: 16
Talents: Dark Affinity, Strong Will, Night Vision
Skills: Wandless Magic, Dark Arts - Non-Verbal Magic, Advanced Potion-Maker
Potions: Blue Moon, Memory Potion, Dittany Essence...
Spells: Sectumsempra lv1, Severing Charm lv3...

"I've mastered non-verbal spellcasting just like that?" Roger realized with a start that he had somehow mastered non-verbal, wandless magic.

"An innate specialization in Dark Arts—if I manage to learn Avada Kedavra, could I secretly take down Voldemort?" Roger carefully processed the staghorn weed while pondering privately.

Compared to the spells learned in textbooks, the power of Sectumsempra was an absolute, dimensional crushing superiority. This fueled an inner desire within him to delve deeper into the Dark Arts. Such dangerous and cold power held an irresistible temptation for any wizard.

"Should I... secretly take a look in the Restricted Section?" Roger felt an itch in his heart, unable to resist the urge to sneak into the library at night. He had the simulation function; going just once... just once shouldn't cause any major issues.

"No wait! Why would I suddenly want to go to the Restricted Section?" Roger snapped out of it with a jolt. How had his thoughts been influenced like that?