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“The difference is a corrupted bloodline,” he says.
“Huh?”
“Sorry, should have been clearer. Dark warlocks come from bloodlines that were corrupted by dark magic generations ago,” he says. “There are theories that it’s because using dark magic corrupts the soul or some nonsense like that.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“No. I think magic is magic, and bad people are bad regardless of what they use. You don’t have to use dark magic in order to hurt someone, you can just as easily do it with something that’s meant to be good. That knife isn’t bad because it cut you, right?”
I lift it to examine it, even if I know the answer already. “I guess it’s just a tool. Whether it’s good or bad depends on the way it’s being used.”
“Exactly.”
“So why do you think dark warlocks came about?”
He shrugs. “Maybe a spell gone wrong, maybe a deal with a demon. It’s hard to say. I don’t worry about it too much because it changes nothing. I am what I am, and I’m not evil because of it.”
“A good discussion point for our essay,” I muse.
“Indeed. I think you’re done with that now.” He gestures to the root.
“Right. I just drop it into the cauldron?”
He nods.
I pick up the board and push the chopped root into the potion. It hisses and bubbles hard as it hits the surface.
“So I guess it’s my turn for a question,” he says.
“Fire away.”
“Which has a very different meaning to someone who can create fireballs,” he jokes.
I let out a bemused laugh. “But you’re not going to do that, right?”
“I think I’d probably end up with detention if I did.”
“That’s not a no.”
“I can’t promise something that I don’t know will be true. What if a situation arises where I need to use a fireball?”
“Has that happened many times in your life?” I check the instructions for the potion while I wait for his answer.
“Sadly, no. Though there are a few situations that I think could be resolved faster if fireballs had been allowed,” he muses. “Here, you need to put this in.” He hands me a pot of what look like chilli flakes, but almost certainly aren’t.
“How much?”
“Just a pinch.”
“That’s hardly an exact measurement,” I mutter.
“This is Charms and Potions, not chemistry,” he points out. “It’s not about exact.”
I sigh. And that’s exactly why I wanted to study chemistry instead of something as vague as this. But Blackthorn doesn’t offer a curriculum like anywhere else, and as much as I want to be a food scientist, I also want to learn more about who I am, and this place feels as if it might have the answers.
I take a pinch of the flakes and sprinkle them over the top of the cauldron.
“Now we have to stir five times anti-clockwise,” I say as I check the instructions. “See, that’s specific.”
