Mordred The Dark Lord-Continued

After putting on the rings I felt the Black magic settle around me.

Diagon Alley wasn't too impressive. I mean it was interesting to see what people have come up with nowadays, but I didn't find anything too shocking with the exception of the popularity of dangerous games. After I bought my school supplies I went to Grimmauld Place 12 with Arcturus. He told me that it was easy enough to arrange for him to become my legal guardian. I thought about poisoning him to become Lord Black, but because it would complicate things how I was accepted as emancipated from magic without having my O.W.L.s and because I am pretty sure that they won't ask me questions about the sixth century, I refrained from doing so and prepared for school.

I put my new wand - "Yew, dragon heartstring, 12½", a powerful combination, known for its ability for lethal spells Mr.Black." - away in an otherwise empty compartment of the Hogwarts Express as I mused about how the world can change while musing about what I should write in my journal.

In my former life's time, a wizard or witch, who was born to non-magical-people, was, while by no means revered, almost always as respected as any other for their potential, if not for their heritage, because their magic was unchanged by any Family Magick in theirs, which allowed them with enough effort to become formidable wizards in their own right. I began with a text about magical theory.

'Most wizards are unaware that rather than the 'pure, formless magic' or 'magical cores' they think they have in their body, humans only have the ability to force the worlds magic with their will and sometimes emotion through their body, which either through repeated use or bloodline affinity is able to better process different kinds of magic - the Blacks tend to do better in dark charms and other kinds of offensive spells, but some have shown amazing ability in Healing magic - without ever perceiving the magic that flows through them. My theory is that the world's magic is the power that lets life and nature's laws exist and existence isn't, despite what people may claim, something that one can feel.

People often claim that the Dark Arts performs vile things with one's own and other's magic, which I after experimentation have found untrue and the Dark Arts can be totally harmless - to the user, not the person on the receiving end of a curse- if one's mind can withstand the focus on what most deem 'negative' emotions. Dark Magic only affects the wizard's mind, because one's control stems from the primal urges of a person rather than rational will.

Ironically the world's magic is unable to reverse death, but move the dead, because after death the dead's souls, that should move to a newborn but not their minds and magic exist and one can not change something that doesn't exist with magic.' I stopped writing because it would bring questions up, when somebody found my journal and the glamours on it, why I write about a conversation with Death

As for the people on their quest to immortality? Well, Death claimed he let them fail because "I am disgusted by some of them and I love some of the others" which doesn't explain much of anything, though I guess I am neither seeing how he made a deal with me. 'Most likely Immortality is impossible for anyone (but Death it seems) because losing one's mind is a constant process that is only accelerated by dying and as such it isn't possible to separate existence from non-existence.'

I shook my head to get my own confusing ideas out of my head and concentrate on the facts I have.

'The body's ability to process magic is something I call 'aptitude'. The only other possibilities of improving one's aptitude are rituals, though the ones most wizards use' - 'used' I corrected myself, 'nowadays Rituals are illegal, with only some exceptions' - 'are despite their high material cost, not very powerful and need an already high ability in the chosen field of magic to be of notice and a durable body.'

I was thrown out of my thoughts as the train came to a stop. I cursed Merlin and all his descendants as I closed my book and hastily put on my school robes while the rest of the students go to Hogsmead Station and I barely come out fast enough to see a man - definitely half-giant - lead the rest of the first years somewhere. I run after them and arrive as he tells them "No more'n four to a boat." He gives me a look when he thought I wasn't seeing him, which was one of the most ridiculous attempts at being subtle I have ever seen, but I ignored him and take a seat on a boat only to curse in shock once again as I look up to see the school, that once was my childhood home Camelot.

"Merlin you damned old bastard who doesn't know where to put his d.i.c.k, I swear by the Moirai and Morgana..."

The now young Dark Lord either didn't notice or didn't care about the strange looks this particular tantrum brought him.