𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍 (2) || 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴 𝘓𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘯

𝐕. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭

Edith was happy, and that was all that Harry had ever wanted to see.

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"So, what actually is 'Arcanic Theory'? Is it just another way of saying History of Magic?" Edith asked, hands tucked away in her pockets as she and the Romanian Professor strolled across the grounds.

"No, because then ve vould just call it 'History of Magic', voukd ve not?" Daria retorted, a dark brow raised.

Edith shook her head. "I had a feeling you would. I'm just trying to understand. We had heard of other Wizarding schools across the world, but I've never been here when there's been a visit."

Daria let out a laugh, it was light, and oddly enchanting in a way.

"I understand, Miss Finch. You are curious, that's good. I like curiosity." Daria took a breath, letting the air rush from her lungs in an exhale before she began to speak. Edith hung to her words, a small web of interest connecting the women.

"Arcanic Theory is much more than reading the vords behind the pages of an incantation. A spell, and any spell for that matter, does not need full understanding to be cast. So long as the incantation is correct, as vell as the vand movement, the spell can be casted. But understanding of the vords behind it can be a tool just as strong." The woman gestured to the wand strapped to her thigh. "There is magic in every inch of this universe. In the air, the sea, the bones of our bodies, the atoms in our lungs, the blood in our veins, the venom of a rattlesnake.... magic lives everyvhere, Miss Finch. Even in muggles."

"Even though they can't... use it?"

"Yes." Daria nodded eagerly, slipping her hands from her trousers to gesture along with her words.

"Going back to spells, there are many branches of magic that have died out, shriveled away into obscurity due to suppression and certain laws. But vhile the spells themselves have been outlawed, the 'Theory' remains. That is vhat I teach and investigate. That is my passion. Digging through a dilapidated mage's tower for three days and cutting my palms into pieces isn't excatly vhat I get paid for, but the adrenaline that strikes me vhen I stumble upon a tome thought lost, or a scroll believed to be destroyed is like none other I have yet to experience! I suppose you could call me a collector of old magic."

"That sounds incredible..." Edith marvelled above the ambling breeze. "Have you ever found any old magic on Transfiguration?"

"Oh yes, a fair share, actually. But their methods vere... dark, for lack of a better term. Rituals and ceremonies of old, tapping into Dark Arts that vere bleak, even against today's standards. Not to mention the Blood Magic."

Edith's steps paused, and Daria stopped in her place as well, as if expecting the girl's reaction.

"Blood Magic..?" Edith uttered the words quietly, as if a hoard of Aurors would apparate around them for even breathing the term aloud.

Daria nodded grimly, slowly tapping the wand against her thigh.

"... A power like that is only granted vith understanding, and clear intent. Preferably for the better-hearted of us."

"Are you saying that you know how to cast it? Do you teach it... at Durmstrang?" Edith spoke hesitantly, quietly. Like a deer stumbling across a wolf in a clearing.

... But Edith Finch never had been afraid of wolves.

No, it was a deer staring down a vulture.

Daria's eyes widened, and she wore a stern look in her eyes as she faced the other woman, her boots crunching the grass as she turned.