Chapter 39: Uncontrollable Instinct
Early the next morning, a soft melody stirred the air as Alexander Smith awoke from his meditation.
He found himself floating a few inches above the ground, completely unaware of when it had happened. Stretching lazily, he exhaled a stream of turbid air. A pair of curious eyes glimmered from his right.
"What kind of magic is this? Alex, why are you floating in your sleep?" Kate blinked her wide, misty eyes.
"It's instinct," Alexander replied simply.
Indeed, it was instinct. Magical creatures like phoenixes don't rely on wings to fly. They are born untethered, free from even gravity.
They are destined to be sovereigns of the skies—immortal and divine.
"Eh? Alex, you're so clean!" Kate exclaimed in wonder. No matter how attractive someone might be, people are usually greasy and disheveled upon waking. But Alexander looked radiant—as if glowing with purity.
His freshness was almost unnatural, like the serenity of untouched nature after years in a concrete jungle. His presence felt soft and harmonious, as if one with the world itself.
"Kate, this too is instinct." With a flicker of fiery red magic, Alexander changed into a new crimson robe and turned around.
How could an immortal creature be tainted by the mundane world? Remaining clean, radiant—this was simply a matter of instinct.
He hadn't yet suppressed the divine aura that lingered after awakening. At this moment, every inch of his skin, every strand of hair shimmered with magical charm. As a short-lived mortal species, Kate's longing gaze reflected a deep and involuntary desire for immortality.
The closer someone was to magic, the more they could perceive its beauty. As a witch—mortal and finite—Kate was naturally affected.
In that fleeting moment, Alexander's heightened magical awareness and thought magic gave him clarity.
At home, Jack the house-elf had always looked at him with reverent devotion, but Alexander hadn't grasped the reason. Now he understood.
His ever-growing power, his body gradually evolving toward perfection, and his mind slowly adopting a divine perspective—especially after nearly mastering the Level 6 Death Curse—were transforming him.
Which came first—the phoenix or the flame?
The riddle from the Ravenclaw door knocker had once seemed paradoxical. But now, Alexander knew the truth. The phoenix, like Peeves the poltergeist, was not born naturally—but conjured from humanity's eternal longing for life, shaped over time.
And after turning seventeen, instead of succumbing to the invisible curse that plagued wizard-kind, he bypassed it entirely thanks to his phoenix bloodline. Now, strange magical traits from fantastical novels began to solidify within him. Magic replaced his need to eat, sleep, or even breathe normally—his very rhythm attuned to the world.
During his meditation, he had unwittingly radiated the irresistible charm of a newborn phoenix—an uncontrollable trait found only in the first generation.
After correcting his mindset, Alexander eased out of his divine perspective and returned to his mortal self.
Kate blinked and shook her head as if awakening from a dream, embarrassed by her earlier reaction. She quickly looked away, pretending nothing had happened.
"Ahem… well, Alex, it looks like we've reached our destination," she said, attempting to change the subject.
"Alright. I'll wait outside for you," Alexander said, playing along. He wasn't ready to reveal all his secrets. He also understood the nature of Ravenclaws—best not to give anyone the chance to betray you before trust is earned.
Ravenclaws were highly competitive, especially regarding achievements. Notorious figures like Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart had both hailed from their house, often resorting to underhanded methods to stand out.
Even Gabriel Truman, a Hufflepuff prefect, had once pointed out how Ravenclaws falsely claimed famous witches like Bridget Wenlock, a Hufflepuff, as their own to boost their reputation.
Ryan—no, Alexander—knew firsthand that the pursuit of wisdom could sometimes blind a person to compassion. Even he wasn't exempt.
In the final stand at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw had the fewest fighters left, second only to Slytherin.
Meanwhile, "ordinary" Hufflepuffs like Hannah Abbott, whose mother had been murdered by Death Eaters, and Seamus Finnigan of Gryffindor, had charged into the Great Hall under fire—Hannah driven by grief, Seamus by bravery.
In the face of death, even the least expected could show immense courage. Alexander knew that too much intellect could make one cold and calculating—and he was just that kind of person.
Taking a deep breath, he snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. A hook-nosed wizard awaited him in the entertainment hall.
After a brief exchange, the man handed Alexander a booklet. It contained the day's itinerary: places to eat and rest, warning zones filled with traps, and the start time of the next challenge.
Then, in a blink, the hook-nosed wizard vanished.
Now, only Alexander and Kate remained in the castle.
"No, no, no… this isn't right. The most important vampire actor should be considered half human," Alexander murmured to himself.
About ten minutes later, Kate emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a stylish vampire-hunting outfit.
"Kate, here's today's schedule." Alexander handed her the booklet.
"It's still early—7 a.m. Breakfast is served in the castle's main hall. After 9, if we ring the bronze bell, the vampires will start attacking us," he explained as Kate, too excited to read, bounced on her toes.
"Then what are we waiting for? Vampire Hunter Kate is ready!" she grinned with enthusiasm.
The carriage door creaked open, the automatic staircase unfolding from below. Before them stood a gloomy, ancient castle, framed by rolling black clouds and streaks of lightning.
Perfect vampire atmosphere.
Alexander followed Kate, who was prancing around like a curious deer, offering commentary on the gothic decorations.
"This must be a weather spell. That's why the vampires can roam during the day!" Kate guessed.
"You're half-right," Alexander said. "But it's not a standard weather spell."
"Why not?"
"This is ancient magic—a precursor to modern weather spells. To maintain this illusion with conventional magic, at least ten high-level wizards would need to sustain it, ensuring the lightning doesn't strike us."
"And ten advanced wizards? That's too much," Kate said, frowning.
"Exactly. The spell isn't that hard to learn—in fact, fifth-years study it. But mastering it is a different story. This particular magic was developed by a wizard with vampire blood."
When they reached the massive entrance, Kate shoved the door open the Muggle way. No automatic enchantments here, but she was thrilled. "Now this is authentic!"
Sometimes, in the magical world, the absence of magic was its own kind of magic.
Beyond the door stretched a long, shadowed corridor lined with torches. The fluttering of bat wings echoed through the air.
After a short walk, they arrived in the grand hall—set for breakfast with a full Romanian spread. Kate loved it. Alexander, on the other hand, felt like he had landed in China.
A mound of cornmeal resembling cake—polenta—was paired with milk, nuts, and fried eggs, the yolks still runny.
But he was delighted to find a few Eastern dishes. After all, what's travel without trying something new?
Telemea, a semi-soft, crumbly goat cheese with a salty bite, and irregularly shaped Romanian donuts flavored with vanilla, lemon, and orange peel added a sweet finish.
For the first time that day, Alexander truly smiled.
(End of Chapter 39)
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