Chapter 5 "Vom Wunsch Zum Wahn" – From Desire To Delusion
"Hey Leo! Thanks again for switching chores! Still not sure why you'd want to clean again… and again… and again"
"I get it." Leonhard cut in with a faint smile. "But don't worry about it, Bartholomew. Any time."
"Hey! I told you to call me Bart! Way more manly. The girls say so at lunch, you know." Bart, self-declared cool guy and part-time heartthrob, stood proudly with his hands on his hips.
"Ah, of course, my bad, Bart," Leonhard replied, deliberately drawing out the name. "By the way, remind me… did you finish your math homework yet?"
And just like that, Bart's world collapsed.
His confident smile vanished, replaced by a dramatic frown. If visual metaphors could be trusted, black lines might as well have run down his face as he slumped forward.
"Aww, shucks… so many numbers…" he muttered while walking off in defeat. "Why's it always me Brother Ezekiel picks to read out loud…"
'Works every time,' Leonhard smirked internally. 'Homework: the eternal bane of children across the ages. Also, sneaky opportunity to practice magic? +1.'
With his destination set: the chapel's storage room, which was frankly starting to sparkle with how clean he got it, Leonhard's thoughts drifted back to the past few days. Back to that moment.
Magic.
Or more precisely: the revelation that he had it. Controlled it? Not entirely. But there was no denying it now.
And ever since that day with the mirror, he'd been, well, obsessed.
That is why he kept volunteering for cleaning duty. It gave him privacy, time, and lots of surfaces to practice on.
Sure, it wasn't flashy wand-waving or spell-casting but it was a start.
'Might not look like much, but it's honest work.'
'If I keep this up, even House Elves will be jealous. Behold: Leonhard Sebastian Silberschein, Master of Cleaning and Vanquisher of Dust Particles!'
Every day since the incident, he had tried to replicate what happened. With enough focus, enough intent, desire, and imagination he could make thingshappen. Tiny things. But magic, nonetheless.
The monks and nuns praised him for his diligence. They thought he was simply thoughtful, responsible, and unusually fond of cleaning. They called him caring. Grateful. And yes, he was grateful, deeply so for the shelter and safety the Chapel provided.
But that was not why he was smiling so much these days.
It was this. Magic.
His magic.
The only downside? He had to keep it hidden. Which meant limited time to practice, and only under the guise of chores.
And frankly? The novelty of magical mopping was wearing thin.
Which is why he planned to try something new tonight.
A scene from one of the Harry Potter films had been stuck in his mind: a tent… a candle… and a very specific charm.
'Let's see what else I can do…'
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Leonhard POV:
'Alright. Let's stay calm, cool and collected. As Bear Grylls said: Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. I've had my fill of cleaning, now lets move onto some cool stuff, ok?'
In front of him lay a candle with its wick already lit. It was about a books length tall and would burn uninterrupted for another 3-4 hours. The flame itself was roughly the size of a pinky. Looking at the shadow the flame cast upon his hand he thought 'well maybe a child's pinky. But I digress! I have two ways of doing this here.'
In the movies, Leonhard remembers that Harry cast "Engorgio" and "Reducio" on the candle. One made the flame rise to the very top of the tent. The other made it smaller again.
'Since I am living with tens of other people inside of a building, made mainly from wood the choice is rather clear. Reducio it is! But let's see how far I can come without throwing up gang sings with a wand and rapping in Latin'
And thus, Leonhard followed his own rules of casting magic:
Concentration – focusing intensely on the chosen object. Imagination – painting a picture within his mind of what will happen. Will – He imposes onto the world, forcing it to bend to his will, desire and needs.
Hence why he is glaring all alone in his room at little candle. Bystanders might think he has constipation if you look at his scrunched-up face.
'Concentration. Check. Now this flame... it must become smaller.. like a picture I'm zooming out from ... the flame itself is becoming shy, hiding away, almost like it is slowly but surely being deprived of oxygen… yes – that's it.'
Leonhard is absorbed in his mental gymnastics. Sitting across from the candle. His face mere inches away from it. The heat doesn't bother him for his mission is greater than a little discomfort. He steadily raises his hand, both on opposite sides of the fire. An action he does passively, without conscious thought.
'And now: I need to make it happen! WantNeedMustHaveDesireControlFireShrinkingSmallSmallSmallGoodSmallerTiny…'
As the raw emotions, which barely even qualify as thoughts echo in his mind, his two hand around the fire start coming closer to each other and the space around the candle start to shrink. Just like the flame. It was reducing itself in size. Every second growing smaller and smaller by a hairs width.
Thereby Leonhard completed his goal and reconfirmed his theory. But he wasn't satisfied. He wanted more…
'Yes! It is doing it. Gone on little flame. Become smaller. Become tiny. Become less. Become nothing. Begone'
Darkness.
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Intermission:
["Besessenheit = Obsession]
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[December 22nd, 1611]
[Fairmarket, London]
It took a lot of begging and promises from the kids to convince the old Monk Ezekiel that it would be a good idea to go to the Christmas market a few days before the celebration itself. But after two weeks of no big issues, due to everybody ensuring that they were on their best behavior, he relented and went with the kids outside to see the festivities.
All the children even got a budget of 2 pennies to spend on some little bites of food. The old Monk took them out from his own savings.
'Not like these bones will need them for much else.' He thought will a grandfatherly smile.
Most of them spent it all on the very first sight of roasted orange peels. Economic responsibility was immediately added as a speaking point by Monk Ezekiel in the back of his mind…
Aside from good behavior, completed homework assignments and a general reduction of boys being boys, Ezekiel made sure to include his fellow Monk Edward for this trip. Sufficient adult supervision for a group of 12 young lads.
"Come on Leo! Surely you will share some of your money with me, right? Its hardly my fault that everything is so brilliantly tasty here!" Bart complained to Leonhard with breath smelling like oranges.
"Yeah!" "Totally!" "Do it! Sharing is Caring Sister Kathleen always says!" "She does, sometimes a little to often… hey!" "Stop moping! And you Leo, don't listen to these buffoons." Came the interruptions from Daniel, Lucas, Peter, Matthew and Elijah respectively.
A handful of his companions and orphans from the Chapel. They stuck together due to being around the same age. Some of the older boys went ahead on their own.
"Thanks Eli, don't worry. I wont listen to these numb nuts who eat their allowance instantly."
"HEY!" came from five people simultaneously.
Rubbing the two coins in his hand Leonhard went away from the group with a little skip in his steps. Despite the banter he was quite absent minded at the moment. His thoughts kept traveling to different scenes from the books and movies. What else can he do? What else does he need? What else is possible?
It was that very question that brought him back to one person. The only one who was able to actively use magic as a child for his own needs. Someone who demonstrated real ability.
You-Know-Who. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Tom Marvolo Riddle.
The Dark Lord Voldemort.
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POV SI:
"Voldi may not be the best role model, be he sure as heck proved that anything is possible, even for wizarding kids. And of all untrained but nonetheless magical talents his ability to perfom Legilimency stands out. By a mile" he mumbled to himself.
He recalls the scene where Dumbledore visits a young Tom Riddle in his Orphanage. The Matron, Mrs. Cole, tells the headmaster that Riddle himself claims to be able to "tell when someone is lying to him".
'And since I refuse to practice in the Chapel and accidentally lobotomize one of the Brothers, Sisters or heavens forbid a child, today marks the perfect opportunity to practice. Lots of people. All strangers. A shame that we don't get to go out much… Anyway! Time to get started. How should I approach this?' he contemplated.
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Jojojo! Thanks for reading!!!!! HUGELY appreciate all comments, likes, stones and collections.
This chapter shows Leonhard's obsession with magic. Can you blame him? It is magical…. Anyway. He "manipulates" the others so that he can get more time to practice. Although his bottom line is that he won't harm the people he is close to, practicing techniques from a dark lord on strangers is fine? Thoughts?
Over & Out
Danfictions