Harry Potter and the Rogue Mage

Chapter 9 - The Mage

As the students wound their way down towards Rowan's cabin, the warm, gentle breeze gently rustled the branches of the Forbidden Forest beside them. The sky overhead was a bright, cerulean blue, and beside the log cabin, Rowan stood waiting. He had been up for a while, getting everything ready for the arrival of the students, and now stood rather proudly beside a small fleet of wooden tables. He had fashioned them from some of the leftover material from his cabin, making enough for half the students at once, and set them up in a rough square outside the front of his cabin.

On each table, Rowan had set up a number of objects which he would use to conduct the test. Firstly, a small, compass-like, metal object large enough to fit in the palm of a hand. Inside it, there was a small needle, colored red at one end, which was perfectly still. Pinned underneath it, there was a small, very thin feather, only a few millimetres wide, but over thirty centimetres long and grey in color. Beside this, there was a small, blue candlestick, which had been melted onto the tabletop to stand by itself. Finally, there was a tiny glass jar only a few inches tall, which contained a small quantity of iron filings. 

The students approached in a stream of black robes and ruffled hair, about thirty of them in total, each carrying a bag or an armful of books and chatting cheerfully to their neighbor as they slowly made their way down the thin dirt track, past Hagrid's hut and over to the tables, where they milled aimlessly as Rowan waited for their fellows to arrive.

By the time their lesson was scheduled to start, most of the students had arrived, and the stragglers were rushing to catch up. Rowan sighed, taking a deep breath as he surveyed the crowd. With a flash of recognition, he spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione standing quietly at the front of the crowd talking heatedly. Or rather, Ron and Hermione were talking heatedly, and Harry was growing quieter and quieter between them, his expression quickly souring. Rowan shook his head despairingly and headed over to them. 

The chattering of the students died a little as he approached, and they parted for him as he approached the bickering friends.

'Morning you three.' Rowan greeted them brightly, stepping close to them as the chain of arguments strung between Ron and Hermione broke for a moment. 'How're you doing?' 

'Eh... all right, I guess.' Ron grumbled. Hermione said nothing, merely tossed her hair and looked resolutely between the two of them, not meeting anyone's gaze. The air was thick with unresolved tension, and Rowan glanced sympathetically towards Harry before turning to Ron.

'Mr Weasley, might I borrow your wand?'

Ron looked surprised, but dutifully pulled out his wand and passed it to Rowan. Rowan thanked him, then quickly turned and strode away. The little muttering that remained from the students grew hushed as Rowan strode to the middle of the group of tables, knelt down, and held Ron's wand upside-down in his fist, pointed at the ground. 

'Sile aer.' Rowan growled, touching the wand tip to the ground and calling up just enough magic to activate the spell. Too much, and the wand would burn itself out of his hand. Immediately, the breeze around them died. The whisper of wind on Rowan's skin fell silent, and the grass stopped shivering and stood upright. There was a murmur of awe from the students, and several gasps as they looked around. A few dozen yards away, the trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest still waved and rustled, but there was no sound, no wind, nothing.

Rowan straightened up, turning the wand in his hand and pointing towards the nearest candle.

'Accende lucernam.' He muttered, and the candle wick slowly swelled into flame. The flame wavered for a moment, then laid still, pointing perfectly vertical. Rowan hummed slightly in approval, then turned, flexing his finger slightly. The candle immediately went out, and the tiny trail of smoke streamed upwards in a perfect line.