It had been three years since my mutant awakening.
I was seven now.
Stronger. Sharper. Better.
My control over magic had improved drastically.
James had started helping with my training, and one day, he decided it was finally time I began learning what it meant to be part of a noble family—to understand the basics of magic, our place in society, and how to carry myself as the heir of a pure-blood house, even if we were all but extinct now.
We started with wizarding history.
Just an introduction to the world—nothing too deep yet. The heavier study would come in the years leading to Hogwarts.
He also taught me a few simple first-year spells.
I got most of them on the first try.
I noticed something right away—magic took better shape and used less energy when I had solid control over it and a clear understanding of what I wanted to do. Intent and focus were crucial.
Wandless casting, though? That was harder than I expected.
Sure, moving and lifting things came easy thanks to my telekinesis and energy manipulation. But spells? Those were different. Structured. Purposeful. A blend of incantation and wand movement.
The incantation channeled intent and will, while the wand stabilized and guided the magical flow—almost like drawing a rune in the air to direct energy. Unless you had the experience and raw power to cast by will alone, the incantation was necessary to refine and focus that intent.
Simple spells like Lumos and levitation came naturally. But more complex charms were difficult, even with perfect control. They required deeper understanding, better visualization, and more experience.
The Fire-Making Charm, for example, was easy to ignite—but controlling the flame and keeping it from draining too much energy? That was a whole different challenge. It would take a lot more practice.
Transfiguration, on the other hand, came more easily.
It felt like molding energy around an object—shaping and infusing it slowly until it changed. With telekinesis and energy manipulation together, it was like sculpting clay.
Even if I didn't understand the full theory behind it yet, I was good at it.
I figured this would be a great path to focus on in the future. I was sure my mutant abilities would help me advance faster in transfiguration than most.
with telekinesis , I had improved too. I could lift up to 300 kg now—with strain, yes, but still. James was shocked, though he advised me to take things slowly and build my foundation properly.
Right now, I was focusing mostly on control.
Making a single feather float was nothing. Making ten of them dance in a spiral while levitating a chair and dodging a flying book? That took real effort.
Telepathy was still rough—but it had improved.
James mentioned we had Occlumency and Legilimency books in the house. I planned to study them soon. They might help stabilize the ability and improve my mental resistance.
Still, I could now sense surface emotions from a few meters away without too much effort. Surface thoughts remained harder to grasp, but with time and study, I'd get there.
Energy manipulation was still my favorite.
Weaving mana into barriers. Creating burst effects. Enhancing perception.
My physical enhancement had also improved slightly. Less energy wasted, better returns.
If my base strength was 100 before, after infusing energy it was 110. Not much, but it was a start. Maybe if I learned more about human anatomy—bones, muscles, biological structure—I could refine it further.
My lessons with James also included the history of our family—the Dreadmores.
"Your great-grandfather was a legendary duelist," James told me one evening, handing over a worn red-bound book. "Brilliant mind. Ruthless. Never lost a duel in his prime."
"Until Grindelwald," I said, flipping through the pages.
He went quiet for a moment. "Yes. Until Grindelwald."
I nodded and kept reading.
James also began teaching me etiquette.
Posture. Speech. Customs.
"You're not just some talented child," he said one afternoon, eyes serious. "You're the last Dreadmore. That name still means something—even now."
He taught me how to walk with purpose through a dueling circle. How to bow with precision. How to speak with authority—without arrogance.
I hated most of it.
But I understood why it mattered.
If I was going to restore the Dreadmore legacy, I had to look the part.
Hogwarts was drawing near.
And I was ready to step into the larger world of magic.