"EXPECTO PATRONUM"
Draco let the words leave his mouth, watching the white mist curl out in front of him. Yeah... it was something. A bit more than last time, sure, but still weak. Not even close to what he wanted.
He sighed.
As the mist faded, his eyes drifted left and there he was again. That student. The one who looked way too much like him. Same build, same smirk. Dressed like they shared a wardrobe or a closet.
And he was staring. Just like him.
Draco's gaze dropped to the ground. Ice. Thin frost creeping out from the fake's feet like it was alive.
His eyes narrowed.
Gotta work harder. Control's still off.
With a flick of his wrist, he sent a wave of intent toward the doppelgänger.
The other Draco cracked, literally, breaking apart into shards of glowing blue ice and scattering like glass on stone.
Draco stepped back instinctively, watching the pieces fade into steam.
"Ars Weiss," he muttered. "Damn useful."
It was the spell he'd unlocked from the JULIUS template. A pretty flashy one too. Created ice clones that could cast magic. Looked cool as hell, but…
The downside was that they needed control. They didn't move on their own.
Still, they had their perks.
They could explode. They could trap enemies in ice. They were perfect for misdirection, for bait, for freezing someone mid-battle if he timed it right.
"I still can't believe a two-year-old made this," he muttered again. Really made him question what he was doing at that age.
At least with the clones, his Patronus range could be increased even if he still couldn't manage the full guardian form yet.
Thinking that, he made a mental note to work on the clone spell more. Right now, he could only summon one. That wasn't going to cut it.
Turning around, his eyes landed on the damage—burn marks, cracked tiles, a few half-frozen training dummies.
"Yeah… good call coming to the Room of Requirement."
It was basically his second home at this point. If he wasn't in class, the library, or his dorm, odds were he was here. Training, experimenting, or just avoiding people.
As for Dumbledore knowing about it, he decided to ignore that.
The old man probably already did. And if not now, eventually.
Either way, it didn't matter.
He needed the practice. Simple as that.
If the old man wanted to monitor him, let him. It wasn't like he could do anything about it and honestly, it didn't bother him much.
If Dumbledore intervened, he'd deal with it when the time came. No point stressing over what he couldn't control. Better to focus on what he could.
As for the spells he was using?
Please. Just because elemental magic wasn't part of the Hogwarts curriculum didn't mean it didn't exist. It was rare, sure, but not some legendary secret.
Same with the cloning spell. He wasn't arrogant enough to think he was breaking new ground here. This world was old. Deep. Filled with centuries of magic and bloodshed and secrets buried beneath stone and silence.
A hundred-year-old wizard like Dumbledore had probably seen it all. And done worse.
Draco grabbed a chair and dropped into it, letting out a breath.
From the floor, he picked up a chilled bottle of pumpkin juice. Its surface still frosted.
He popped the cap and took a sip.
"Hah… at least I don't have to worry about overheating," he muttered, leaning back with a small smirk.
He tossed the bottle cap into the air and watched it spin.
"Protego," he said casually.
The cap struck an invisible barrier midair, bounced, and clattered to the floor.
Draco stared at the faint shimmer where the shield had flickered to life.
"Hm. Finally showing some results," he murmured. "Still not enough."
He knew he had a long way to go.
That scene from Fantastic Beasts—the last film—kept flashing in his head. Grindelwald standing there calm as ever, spells crashing against his full-body shield like rain against a window. Unbothered. Untouched.
"Now that is control," Draco muttered. "I'll get there."
Right now, his main focus was split. Transfiguration, Potions, Charms. He gave a bit of time to the Dark Arts, mostly for his template Assimilation routines, but not much else.
Alchemy was tempting. He had a genuine interest in it.
But there just wasn't enough time.
This much already kept him occupied from dawn to curfew. Any more and he'd probably collapse on his notes.
"I should get going," he muttered, deciding he'd done enough for the day.
He packed up everything he'd brought into his extensible pouch. A handy little thing Draco picked up before the start of the year.
Then, reaching in, he pulled out the Mandura Map to check the corridors.
Clear. No one nearby.
Satisfied, he tucked the map back into the pouch and quietly slipped out of the Room of Requirement.
***********
Some dark magic ideas