November is a vile month in these parts. The landscapes of the Scottish mountains, beautiful in their gloomy severity, become tangibly heavy. Eternal fogs, dampness, and cold make themselves known, and the Black Lake finally changed the blueness of the water surface to steel gray. Yes, the cloudy sky is to blame for this, of course, but who pays attention to such things?
I had to remind those who bought pendants through Cedric that they don't give you the right to flaunt naked in the frost—you still need to dress for the season to get the maximum effect of temperature comfort.
My studies split into two directions—practicing magic according to the program for the first three years along with doing homework on current topics, and self-study by reading books and trying to find something unique there, simultaneously trying to cover as wide a range of knowledge in disciplines as possible, so to speak, in breadth. Comprehensively.
I simply cannot stop admiring the completely crazy and unrestrained imagination of local wizards, unlimited in magic reserves, for all sorts of absurd inventions. Take the self-tying shoelace charm—a vivid example that does not want to leave my head. Why? Did your hands wither? They created so much just on the principle "because I can" that shards of wizards and the elf can only gnash their teeth at this interworld injustice.
Three times a week, the team and I conducted training, thinking over the tactics of the game with Ravenclaw. It was obvious that one shouldn't count on goal difference—the guys there are smart, they also understood the new idea of our team. Cedric even suggested I try out for the role of Seeker and see what happens. What can I say, the Snitch never fell out of my sensitivity zone even once, and I always instantly found and caught it due to huge maneuverability, and caught up thanks to the broom's ability to throw all power onto one movement vector. In general, boring—that's what I said. The guys just shrugged, because we play for interest—if someone is not interested in the game or role, they won't force it.
I considered it amusing that my talents pushed the other guys to personal training, and their performance began to improve little by little.
"It turns out somewhat unserious," Cedric once said in the locker room. "When the whole team lags too far behind the leading player in technique."
In the evenings, I experimented with the hammer and anvil, simultaneously inventing and trying different methods of enchantment, engraving, or forging. It turned out, I just needed to, as they say, use my brains. Modularity is the key to success. This is the first important decision. The basis will be a platform creating an effect field in a certain radius around. What effect? And that already depends on small modules in the form of the same pendants, which will need to be inserted into special slots. Everything genius is simple.
What are the requirements of this expedition? Microclimate, abstract protection from curious mages and non-mages, protection from various technology. With the first, everything is simple—a contour for comfortable temperature, a contour for comfortable humidity, and that's it, ready. Two modules. But with others there is a problem—I don't know such contours, but decided to conduct a couple of experiments.
The first experiment, which I conducted in my nook, consisted of enchanting a removable nozzle on the hammer. Yes, made one—not difficult at all. Just a nozzle with a mechanical lock: turned a quarter turn—removed; applied a new one, turned—put on. In general, I created one such nozzle with a simple local rune chain with the meaning "Imitation". Its essence is that it imitates the enchantment applied to it from the local school, and performs its function until it exhausts the energy invested in the chain. Applied the Lumos charm, forcing it to glow with the colour chosen in imagination, put it on the hammer, and hit the workpiece. As always, sparks flew from under the hammer, ringing stood in the ears, and a simple engraving, compared to the dwarf's, appeared on the workpiece, of quite correct shape and good quality. The result was evident, as they say—a large drop-shaped pendant now constantly glowed blue, and the engraving on it glowed slightly brighter.
Due to the fact that my forging method created an artifact with a literally "innate" magical effect, and not an applied enchantment, its energy consumption was scanty, and specifically in this case it was a problem—it didn't go out! Generally never! Where to put it now is unclear. However, the result pleased, but there were still some difficulties, and therefore I turned to Cedric as an accomplice in this conspiracy.
It was mid-November, the deadline for the response to the order was not far off. I found Cedric in the evening in the common room in the circle of his comrades. Approached, called him aside. As always, Cedric enchanted the space around us from eavesdropping.
"Did something happen?"
"You could say that. Do you know the essence of the order?"
"Yes," feignedly embarrassed, the guy scratched his temple with a finger. "Couldn't restrain curiosity."
"Do you know charms that can achieve the desired effects?"
"Hmm… I, generally, am more into Transfiguration," the guy pondered. "Remind me, what exactly is needed?"
"Abstract protection from curious mages and non-mages, creatures, protection from various recording technology."
"If I remember correctly," Cedric thought seriously. "Such charms are in books like 'Magical Concealment', 'Statute of Secrecy: Basic Charms and Spells', and similar on this topic. Where I said, definitely there."
"Clear, thank you, Cedric."
"Don't mention it. It's in my interests, as I understand," the guy smiled in his standard polite manner.
On Wednesday, November 17th, the day after the conversation with Cedric, I spent all my free time after classes in the library, where I found these and a couple more books on the necessary topic. Without departing, as they say, from the cash register, I memorized the necessary charms, and only after that allowed myself to return to my nook in the room.
Making several removable nozzles for the hammer, and applying the "Imitation" rune contour, I began to enchant each of them in turn. Used standard, if books are to be believed, Muggle-Repelling Charms, Notice-Me-Not, Disillusionment Charms, Salvio Hexia—protection from simple hexes, and Muffliato—silencing. Screwed them to the hammer in turn, and forged the workpieces. The drawings turned out interesting, but simple. However, diagnostics confirmed the magical effect, at least my consciousness perceived the response of the diagnostic contour exactly like that.
So in the end, a convex platform turned out, resembling an inverted plate with six recesses in which enchanted pendants lie. Having assembled this, stood, looked, thought—not enough. Need a charge indicator. But here it's generally simple—forged a tiny Lumos rune. Glows—there is magic. The less light, the less magic in the device. And generally, despite the rather high cost of the applied charms, the artifact ready through forging consumes very little magic. If it consumes at all. Vague doubts torment me that the use of local runes somehow breaks the established concept of a certain magical law of conservation of energy. Maybe local runes forged by the dwarven method somehow change reality, or have their "exit" to energy dimensions?
The device turned on and off by removing the central rod. In general, everything is simple. Packing this matter into a bundle, put it in the backpack and went out into the common room, as always, full of students busy with their affairs—evening after all. I found Cedric at one of the tables, where he and a couple of upperclassmen were diligently and quickly, clearly in a hurry, writing something on parchments.
Noticing me and my nod, Cedric cast Tempus, nodded to himself, and quite quickly went to his room, returning half a minute later with a bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm. Moving to a secluded place, Cedric cast silencing charms and Notice-Me-Not.
"Ready, as I understand?"
"Yes," I took the backpack off my shoulder and took out the bundle. "Here. Didn't write instructions. Handwriting, all that…"
"There are charms for creating text, actually…"
"I've been here only six months, actually…"
"Reasonable," Cedric smiled, and looked at the bundle that migrated into his hands. "Probably that's why you make amusing things—just didn't have time to be imbued with our worldview on such things."
"Possibly. Anyway, listen about the artifact…"
In a minute I told what I made and how to use it, and after—sat down at the table with classmates.
"Oh, doing homework, and without me?"
"You do it twice as fast as us anyway," Justin waved it off, and the others agreed with him. "You were doing something in the room there, so we decided not to disturb you. If anything—you can copy."
"Oh, thanks, but I'll read just to check."
Taking out the necessary books and notebooks, I started the assignments.
"Guys," Hannah interrupted us a couple of minutes later. "Doesn't it seem to you that we started practicing magic together too little?"
"Not by much," Zacharias disagreed. "Hector, look, already learned the program, we repeated everything, new stuff is passed normally if you spend an hour a day on homework and half an hour on practice."
"Exactly," Ernie agreed with him. "Studying well—easy. Studying badly—hard."
"Did you understand what you said yourself?" Hannah smirked.
"Well, everything is correct, if you think about it. No?"
Ernie looked at us all in bewilderment, but finding no understanding, waved it off, continuing to write something in the notebook. When all the homework was done and checked, the girls ran to the kitchen before curfew started, and organized tea with cookies.
"Maybe we'll gather one of these days, finish off the Patronus?" Justin made a suggestion.
"Well, mist and shields are already working," Hannah shrugged indifferently, adjusting a strand of blond hair. "Or do you want to make a corporeal form so much?"
"Well, yes, there is that," the "movie villain" was a little shy.
"Hmm," the girl smiled. "Coveted the laurels of a great wizard?"
"Well, why not? Why not. I feel something is missing. Just a little bit."
"Strength is missing," I explained, settling more comfortably in the armchair and sipping tea with pleasure.
"How do you know?" Susan immediately pricked up her ears. "You don't get a corporeal form either."
"Well, lately I often sit in the library."
"Yeah, together with Greengrass. Mmm, romance…" Hannah and Susan again feignedly enthusiastically put their hands together, and their faces expressed this strange girlish emotion, which all my experience does not allow interpreting into words.
"We, generally, are engaged in potion-making…" seeing the absolute futility of arguments, I just waved it off. "Ah, who am I talking to… Anyway, read somewhere that if the Patronus Charm works at all somehow, it means the memory is suitable. But for a corporeal form, you need to supply a lot of magic in a stream through the wand."
"And for a Pulse?"
"A lot and sharply, like an explosion, like… Bang!" I showed this explosion with my hands, almost spilling tea from the cup. "Well, if books are to be believed, everyone determines for themselves exactly how they regulate their magic. Someone tenses with their whole body, correlating bodily efforts with the magical flow, someone visualizes this flow… In general, whoever is capable of what."
"That is," Zacharias pondered. "We can all create a corporeal form, we just need to strain?"
"Theoretically—yes."
"Eh…" Zacharias sighed sadly.
"What is it, Zach?" Hannah immediately showed concern. "Here, take another cookie. With chocolate."
"Just a strange feeling…" the guy shuddered. "Don't get me wrong, but this hits self-esteem."
"What exactly? The cookie?" Hannah kept at the guy.
"Just give me your cookie already," the guy snatched the cookie and chewed.
Quickly dealing with the confectionery product, he continued the thought:
"As if I was cruelly deceived somewhere when a Muggle-born knows so much about magic. No-no, don't think… But it's really like a blow below the belt. Parents are wizards, their parents—also wizards. And so not one and not two generations…"
"It's a matter of perception, it seems to me," Justin spoke thoughtfully.
"Perception? Perception of what?" Zacharias pouted.
"Well… how to say it correctly…"
"Allow me, Justin," I interrupted the guy's attempts to formulate a thought.
"Go ahead."
"In general, the point is that for you magic is a common thing with which you grew up in childhood. And for some, even a boring routine. For people like me and Justin, everything around is a completely new world with new opportunities that we could only dream of while reading fairy tales. And for you, it is at the level: 'Well, school, well, wand, well, magic—big deal?'. I think you just need a goal implying improvement in magic. For example, become stronger than Dumbledore, more skilled than Flitwick, well, or something like that."
My words made the guys think, but Hannah immediately pointed a finger at Justin.
"And why then does Justin treat everything carelessly?"
"And I had big plans for Muggle life," he shrugged contritely. "It wasn't magic I dreamed of in childhood. And then, I was supposed to enter Eton College. A year before the letter from Hogwarts, just passed the first exams. This year I was supposed to go there exactly…"
"Oh! I know!" Susan literally shone. "My aunt once talked about our distant relative. How it was there… After the fifth year of compulsory magical education, he submitted an official petition to the Ministry, passed ordinary subjects, and received documents on ordinary education. Eton College, like Oxford University, thanks to a program approved by the Queen, accept wizards who decided to receive ordinary education without problems. For them, the bar for the minimum level of knowledge is even slightly lowered, and the House of Windsor pays half the cost of education."
"What generosity from the royal family," I smiled.
"It's just that rarely anyone uses this. It's difficult. They say Muggle disciplines are quite complex. Wizards consider this an unnecessary whim, and Muggle-borns either merge into our world completely, or do not merge at all, but no one tells them anything."
"But why? This is important information," Justin was indignant.
"Probably don't know themselves," Susan was embarrassed. "If not for that case with the relative, probably even my aunt wouldn't know about such opportunities and programs. And she is not the last person in the Ministry."
"Ye-eah…" I drawled, taking a sip of tea. "The country is a mess, Your Majesty…"
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