Chapter 97: Refining Elementalization

Hermione found Edward in the library the next afternoon with three books open around a page of Regulus's notes.

"You are thinking about the bathroom again," she said.

Edward covered nothing. "I am thinking about movement through narrow spaces."

"That is a very elaborate way to say yes."

He pointed to the notes. "The entrance may connect to pipes or tunnels. If the adults eventually need someone who can enter a space ordinary movement cannot reach..."

"They will choose an adult."

"Probably."

"Edward."

He closed one book.

The frustration beneath her warning was deserved. He had been caught after curfew, helped write rules against independent searches, and still found ways to turn danger into a technical problem he might personally solve.

"I will not enter the bathroom without permission," he said.

Hermione studied him. "And you will not turn yourself into fire and pour yourself down a pipe?"

"That sentence makes the idea sound worse."

"Good."

She returned to her work.

Edward kept the promise about the bathroom. The second promise was harder because Elementalization already existed in his training. Sirius's family notes described it as a dangerous transformation of Edward's own magic and body, not a separate creature or gift. His mother's protective imprint had shaped his affinity for fire, but it did not make the technique harmless.

Professor Flitwick allowed partial exercises only.

The first involved Edward's left hand. He changed the fingertips into a thin flare for less than a heartbeat, then returned them to flesh. The movement left his hand numb.

"Again?" Edward asked.

"No," Flitwick said.

"It was stable."

"It was brief. Those are not synonyms."

They waited until feeling returned.

At the next session, Edward transformed his hand and tried to reduce the space the flame occupied. The fire narrowed slightly. Pain shot through his wrist and the spell collapsed.

Snape, observing from the far table, wrote one line on the report.

"What did you write?" Edward asked.

"That curiosity remains your most persistent injury."

"That is not a measurement."

"Madam Pomfrey will be delighted to hear you have discovered standards."

The professors limited him to ordinary control work for the rest of the week.

Edward obeyed in class. At night, he read.

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The problem was not that the books promised easy success. Most warned against it. Partial Elementalization required precise timing because flesh and flame did not share the same physical limits. Compressing the transformed portion increased strain. Full-body transformation multiplied every uncertainty.

One old text described wizards losing consciousness during reversion. Another mentioned permanent nerve damage after repeated attempts. Regulus had underlined that passage twice.

Edward should have stopped there.

Instead, he began searching for methods that claimed to reduce the strain.

He told himself that reading was not practice. That was true and therefore convenient.

Meanwhile, the Chamber investigation continued beyond him. The bathroom remained closed. Professors inspected its stonework. Harry was questioned about Parseltongue and the voice he heard. Edward received no invitation to join those discussions.

He resented that less than he would have earlier in the year.

Not enough.

At a Flame Serpent meeting, Theodore asked about the next defensive project. Edward surprised himself by saying there would not be one until the Chamber threat ended.

"Why?" Draco asked. "This is when we need them."

"Because fear is making everyone willing to accept things they would reject in ordinary circumstances. That includes my inventions."

Pansy tapped the Flame Mask warning. "And your experiments?"

Edward hesitated.

"Those too."

The answer felt dishonest because he already had a Restricted Section request prepared.

After the meeting, he carried that request to Snape instead of forging permission or slipping past Madam Pince. The book he wanted was Advanced Fire Control and Magical Amplification, an old volume cited in Regulus's notes.

Snape read the title.

"No."

Edward had expected questions. "May I ask why?"

"Because three separate marginal notes in the catalogue describe it as unsafe, poorly translated, and responsible for two recorded accidents."

"Could I read it under supervision?"

"Not while you are considering compression."

Edward's jaw tightened. "Then how am I supposed to understand why it fails?"

"By remaining alive long enough to study the subject when you possess the training to evaluate it."

Snape returned the request unsigned.

That should have ended the matter.

Two nights later, Edward was shelving a permitted book when he saw the restricted volume on Madam Pince's sorting cart. It had apparently been pulled for staff review after his request.

The library was nearly empty.

Madam Pince stood at the far desk.

Edward walked past the cart.

He made it three shelves away before stopping.

The argument in his head was embarrassingly efficient. He would only read the warning. He would not cast. He would learn what made compression unstable. Five minutes of information could prevent a future accident.

Every sentence resembled an excuse he had used before.

Edward turned back anyway.

He did not take the book then. Madam Pince looked up, and he continued toward the exit.

But the title stayed in his mind all evening.

In the common room, he tested no transformation. He sat with his own notes and wrote what he already knew: partial compression caused pain and numbness; full-body Elementalization remained unstable; there was no approved reason for a second-year student to fit through a pipe.

The conclusion was clear.

So was the temptation to prove he could overcome it.

Near midnight, Edward woke with the title of the restricted book still circling his thoughts. He dressed quietly and stared at his walnut wand on the bedside table.

Before the Restricted Section request, Flitwick had made Edward repeat one further exercise with no transformation at all. He placed a narrow wooden frame on the desk and asked Edward to pass a harmless ribbon of ordinary flame through it without touching the sides.

Edward succeeded twice and failed on the third attempt. The flame licked the frame and left a black mark.

"You are thinking about becoming smaller," Flitwick said. "Learn first what happens when the thing you are narrowing is only a spell."

Edward tried again. When he concentrated on speed, the flame widened. When he concentrated on width, it slowed until it nearly went out. The tradeoff was obvious and irritating.

"Your body is less forgiving than wood," Flitwick said. "Remember that."

Edward wrote the sentence at the top of his notes.

He also reviewed what Elementalization actually was. Ash did not perform it for him. Ash was not another soul waiting behind his thoughts. The name described a partition of Edward's own magic and buried survival instincts, shaped in part by the protective imprint his mother had left when she died. Fear and anger could push power toward the surface, but that pressure did not grant knowledge or judgment.

If anything, it made reckless choices easier to mistake for instinct.

That mattered when the restricted book promised techniques based on forcing deeper reserves into a transformation. Edward understood enough to know that any surge of power would still be his own magic, and any loss of control would still be his responsibility.

Understanding the danger did not remove the desire to test it.

The responsible choice required no further analysis.

Edward picked up the wand.

That was the beginning of the mistake.