Marvel’s Master of Heavenly Magic

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Meanwhile, George once again immersed himself in studying and researching magic.

With Wolverine keeping an eye on Tony Stark, there wasn’t much to worry about. Besides, Tony Stark wasn’t foolish enough to be easily taken down by Obadiah Stane.

Even if something unexpected happened and Stark was killed, there was nothing George could do. At most, the stock would plummet, and he'd lose some money. But with his growing power, he could always find other ways to recover financially.

For him, building a relationship with Tony Stark was advantageous for future plans, but it wasn’t the only path forward.

Money was merely a medium of exchange; its true value came when spent. Otherwise, it was just useless paper.

Even if Stark Industries' stock took a dive, its overall worth would remain substantial, enough to sustain them for seven or eight years.

By then, George would have already mastered the Muggle-Repelling Charm and the Fidelius Charm, eliminating any concerns about the school's safety.

So, for now, his focus had to be on magic. Everything else was secondary.

At Hogwarts Castle, during Charms class, Professor Flitwick was instructing the students on the intricacies of the Levitation Charm.

“Never forget that subtle wrist movement we’ve been practicing—a swish and a flick. Remember, a swish and a flick.

“Pronunciation is also crucial. Take Wizard Baruffio, for instance. He said 'f' instead of 's' and ended up flat on his back with a buffalo standing on his chest.”

“Well, at least he never had to worry about running out of beef,” George thought to himself, amused by Flitwick’s example.

In truth, it was just a passing thought. From his recent studies, George knew that such animals didn’t appear out of thin air. They were either summoned from nearby or created through Transfiguration.

Magic, while wondrous, still followed its own set of rules. It wasn’t limitless.

For instance, you couldn’t conjure food or water out of nothing.

Many summoning spells for cows, snakes, horses, birds, or flowers were actually extensions of summoning or transfiguration magic.

If it was summoning-based, you couldn’t bring something over if it didn’t exist nearby. If you were in a desert, no matter how many times you pronounced 'f' as 's', no cow would appear.

If it was transfiguration-based, the animal would revert to its original form once the magic wore off or it would disappear entirely.

So, the idea of having endless beef wasn’t realistic. At most, you could sample the flavor for a brief moment.

Magic had many such rules. Without proper study and understanding of its limitations, you could easily find yourself in a dangerous situation one day.

Luna’s mother, after all, died from experimenting and modifying spells.

“Now, everyone, let’s begin practicing,” Professor Flitwick said after finishing the theoretical part of the Levitation Charm, and he had the class practice with feathers.

George, meanwhile, didn’t feel like staying low-key. He casually lifted his hand, aimed at a nearby desk, and cast the Levitation Charm.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

With the incantation spoken, the desk immediately floated into the air, leaving the students—who were still struggling to make their feathers levitate—staring in shock.

“Well done, George. Five points to Slytherin.”

Though George had been daydreaming during class, earning house points was still worth the effort.

After class, Professor Flitwick grabbed his books and prepared to leave the room, but his short legs couldn’t outrun George, who caught up to him at the door.

“Looks like my lunch is going to be delayed again,” Professor Flitwick said with a sigh. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time this had happened. He seemed pleased but also a bit exasperated.

George smiled brightly.

“Professor, I’ve been studying the Muggle-Repelling Charm recently, and there are a few things I don’t quite understand. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind sparing a bit of your time to help out a curious student.”

George had no other option. With the professors’ busy schedules and their personal commitments over the weekends, it was hard to find time to meet with them. Unlike Snape, not all professors were willing to offer guidance during their private hours.

After an hour of discussion, George left the classroom satisfied, having let Professor Flitwick go at last. He then made his way to the Great Hall for lunch.

In just two days, it would be Halloween, but the weather had yet to improve. It had been raining for an entire week and showed no signs of stopping.

Despite the rain, George’s spirits were high after getting answers to his magical queries.

“Harry, Ron, Hermione—haven’t you eaten yet?” George called out as he entered the Great Hall, spotting the Gryffindor trio at their table.

At this hour, the Great Hall was typically almost empty, so Harry and his friends were particularly noticeable sitting there.

"George, we were just talking about the Deathday Party," Harry said with a pained expression, explaining how he'd been invited to the event.

Apparently, the previous day, after Quidditch practice, Harry had accidentally dirtied the castle floor and been caught by the caretaker, Filch. Nearly Headless Nick had stepped in to help, so Harry felt obliged to attend Nick's 500th Deathday Party in the dungeons on Halloween night.

“Don’t be so down about it. The Halloween feast happens every year, but the Deathday Party might be a once-in-a-lifetime event. I actually think it’ll be fascinating! I’ll go with you,” Hermione chimed in, clearly excited by the idea of the ghostly celebration.

Ron, however, didn’t share her enthusiasm. “Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died? That sounds horribly depressing!” he remarked.

“Harry already promised Nick he’d go. He can’t go back on his word,” Hermione said firmly, standing up and glaring at Ron, as if daring him to argue. Intimidated, Ron quickly backtracked.

“You’re right. Harry, as your good mate, I’ll come with you!” he said hurriedly.

“Thanks, guys,” Harry said, his expression lightening slightly. Then he turned hopefully toward George. “George, do you want to come too?”

“I think I’ll pass. I don’t want to miss my first Halloween feast at Hogwarts,” George replied with a smile, politely declining Harry's invitation.

If his memory served him right, the Basilisk would make its first move on Halloween, and Filch’s cat would be petrified. George wasn’t keen on getting involved with the Basilisk or Voldemort just yet. Besides, he was genuinely curious about the Halloween feast at Hogwarts.

“A friendly word of advice,” George added, “from what I’ve read in The Book of Ghosts, ghosts can’t eat normal food. They can only gain a faint sense of taste by inhaling strong, unpleasant smells. So, I’m guessing the food at the Deathday Party will be... well, long past its prime. You might want to bring something to eat beforehand, or you’ll be starving.”

“Oh, Merlin... I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to go with Nearly Headless Nick,” Harry groaned, clearly regretting his decision. Meanwhile, Hermione’s curiosity was piqued.

“The Book of Ghosts? Is that from the library? How come I’ve never seen it?” she asked George, intrigued.

“It’s on the very last shelf in the back, third from the end, right at the top. There’s only one copy in the entire library, so it’s easy to miss. I only found it because I was specifically searching for books about ghosts,” George replied, casually picking up some food that had been magically sent over by the house-elves, eating as he chatted with Hermione.

He hadn’t looked into books about ghosts just out of curiosity. George was thinking about the future—if he ever reached the end of his life or died unexpectedly, perhaps there might be a way to linger as a ghost. Then, he could figure out a way to come back to life.

(End of Chapter)