Chapter Thirty-Six: Losing Grip

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Everyone in the Great Hall stared at Gideon in stunned silence following his sudden pronouncement.

'Come, Mr Maxwell,' urged Professor Voronov, who had arrived at his side.

'Didn't you hear? It's Drake!' Gideon spat, not fully aware of himself or that he was addressing his Head of House.

'Come, Gideon,' the professor said, steering Gideon towards the exit with a firm hand on his back.

Gideon didn't resist but gave those who dared meet his eyes his best death stare, all the way to the exit. As the doors to the Great Hall closed behind them, Gideon's brazen façade faltered, and comprehension dawned on him. Gideon's already fast heartbeat sped up, his breathing became staggered and his mind all but clogged.

His aunt, his father, his mother, his birth mother, the truth, the embarrassment, the shame. There were just too many things to deal with and too many feelings to unravel. This was it. This was as much as Gideon could stand—as much as any sane person could. It was going to happen again. Gideon ran for the front door without a word.

'Gideon? Come back at once!' Professor Voronov ordered.

But Gideon didn't listen, he couldn't. The professor would see, or worse yet, he would get hurt. Unfortunately, the man gave chase, and he was unusually fast.

'Please, Professor,' Gideon pleaded in the open air just a short distance from the castle doors, looking around for an escape, 'you can't be here! Leave me alone!'

'No, Gideon, I'm not going anywhere,' the professor said, blocking Gideon's path as he tried to run in the opposite direction.

'Please, Professor,' Gideon repeated as the familiar feeling inside of him began to spread throughout his body. 'I don't want to hurt anyone else.'

'Then, take control, Gideon!' Professor Voronov commanded, crouching down, and grabbing the boy by his shoulders.

Without questioning why the man seemed to know what he was talking about, Gideon replied, 'I-I can't! There's no way to stop it!'

'I didn't say stop it,' Professor Voronov instructed as Gideon's blood began to boil, 'I said control it! Use your wand. Direct the magic into your arm and through your wand!'

'I don't think I can,' Gideon replied, taking his wand out of his pocket as his skin began to crackle. 'You should run!'

'I'm not moving, Gideon,' the man insisted, his dark eyes meeting Gideon's with a steely resolve, 'Don't think, just do! This is your power. It's yours to wield, yours to control! Now, focus!'

Borrowing his teacher's confidence, Gideon concentrated with all his might, steadily raising his crackling arm against its will, and pointing his wand into the air. Gideon felt the power inside him withdraw from his limbs, back into his chest and flow only into his right arm like a surging river redirected by a fallen tree.

It was working, but now there was more energy than ever in one area of his body and his arm began to spark, shake, and burn with the force of it all.

'That's it, Gideon. Now, let the magic flow into your fingers, into your wand, and release it!'

With an immense effort, Gideon forced the contained magic into the tips of his fingers until he felt it connect with his wand. Suddenly, it felt as though a tap had been turned on too hard and the magic rushed in at once. Gideon's arm shook and smoked worse than ever as a huge jet of scarlet flames erupted from his wand like the breath of a great dragon.

Gideon yelled with the pain and stress of the task. He didn't think he could keep his arm straight or even keep a hold of his wand much longer. Thankfully, his worry was alleviated somewhat by Professor Voronov supporting his wand arm and grip, but the force of the magic was still incredible.

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