Each of these rituals would grant Julian a clear advantage if he succeeded, and that advantage would be even greater in the case of the ritual of breath. His endurance in both forging and spellcasting would rise dramatically from that one alone. The most convenient aspect of these rituals was that none of the ingredients would raise suspicion. Every component was either a recognized potion ingredient or something he could reasonably obtain with enough effort. Even the dragon lung was not as outrageous as it sounded, since it was used in certain wizarding delicacies, including firewhisky.
...
The first ritual he intended to perform was the ritual of reflexes. For that, he required the heart of a creature he personally hunted, a strand of his own hair, and a pair of bird eyes.
He already had a suitable target in mind for the heart, though acquiring it would mean venturing into the Forbidden Forest.
The ritual clearly stated that the stronger the hunted creature, the more potent the resulting enhancement. And conveniently, the forest housed a large and dangerous colony of monsters.
Hagrid was kindhearted, but bringing a mate for Aragog had been an astonishingly foolish decision. Acromantulas reproduced in massive numbers, dozens at a time, multiple times a year.
The Forbidden Forest now held hundreds of enormous, man eating spiders. The only reason they were not an immediate catastrophe was because Aragog and the centaurs kept their numbers in check through regular culling.
Julian possessed a lightning spell of considerable power. If he exercised caution, he could use it to eliminate one acromantula and harvest its heart. That would almost certainly produce a strong result in the ritual.
"Looks like I need to have a little chat with the twins," he thought as he made his way toward the Great Hall for dinner.
...
He ate heartily while carefully mapping out how to conduct the hunt safely.
The current outline was simple. The twins would guide him into the forest, as they already had experience sneaking about in it. From there, he would approach the outer boundary of the acromantula colony.
It was likely that at least one spider would be testing its luck near the edge of its territory.
He would strike quickly with lightning, kill the creature, extract its venom and heart, and leave immediately.
Julian had no intention of attempting anything more ambitious.
...
One missing spider among hundreds would barely be noticed. But only a madman would try to hunt deeper inside their domain. Acromantulas favored ambush tactics. Entering their territory meant risking encirclement, and being surrounded by creatures of that size was practically a death sentence.
Still, before committing to the plan, he needed to refine the lightning spell he had discovered accidentally before the school year began.
"The Room of Requirement should be able to create a proper target range," he considered seriously while finishing his meal.
...
After dinner, Julian retired early. He wanted to be fully rested for the following day. The classes scheduled were light, just one period each of Flying, Astronomy, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Flying class went as usual. He deliberately held back, much to Madam Hooch's visible disappointment. She knew he was sandbagging, but she could not prove anything.
Astronomy turned out to be effortless. The professor was satisfied with their current progress and had rearranged the schedule, effectively canceling lessons for the remainder of the week.
Julian spent the entire period chatting with his friends, as they had been given permission to do so.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was hardly better. Quirrell, or rather Quirelmort as Julian privately thought of him, stumbled through every sentence with that perpetual stutter. They had barely touched on meaningful topics, such as handling magical creatures. Whenever someone asked directly about it, the professor would deflect and steer the conversation elsewhere.
Fortunately, that particular subject could be learned independently. It did not require heavy guidance, and most students seemed aware of that fact.
...
The moment class ended, Julian took a series of lesser used corridors and shortcuts to reach the seventh floor unnoticed. Once there, he paced in front of the blank wall and slipped into the Room of Requirement.
This time, the chamber transformed into a vast practice hall.
Wooden puppets filled the space, darting about in erratic, unpredictable patterns. They moved quickly, changing direction without warning.
Julian had specifically requested the most difficult environment possible for long range target practice.
An acromantula was not merely dangerous because of its size. Its speed and mobility were formidable. If he was going to face one, he needed to strike a fast, evasive target from a distance with a bolt of lightning.
Close quarters combat with a giant spider was tantamount to suicide.
So if that meant enduring brutal training against chaotic, relentless targets, then so be it.