[ September 2, 1973. Hogwarts. ]
After a good night's sleep, I spent the entire day with Dorothea in Availon. The little one had missed me, and I missed her too. Mom and Ludwig came to visit by portkey, and I told them all about my journey and what had happened so far. To make sure Dorothea wouldn't get bored while I was at school, I set the time coefficient in Availon to 100 to 1 — so she wouldn't even notice my absence.
What really fascinated me was that changing the flow of time didn't affect the speed of world materialization at all. That only depended on the incoming free ether, the lifespan of the bubble along the main timeline, and the number of highly material beings inside. My apple trees, which I'd planted in three of the four climate zones, gave a particularly good boost — though they didn't take root very well in the mountains.
Around six in the morning, real time, I left my room to walk around the castle and see how everything was arranged here.
"Tinky greets sir wizard, can Tinky help you with anything?" I looked at the house-elf, marveling at the creator's imagination for this wondrous creature. To call a small, thin, big-eared, long-nosed, bald creature an elf... You'd have to really dislike the fair folk.
What are house-elves, really? Along with goblins, they came from another world about seven hundred years ago — a world that suffered some kind of catastrophe. Judging by the mutual hatred between these two peoples, it was the same world. But while there were many goblins, and they almost immediately entered into conflict with wizards for a place under the sun in the first goblin rebellion, there were no more than a hundred house-elves.
Having previously lived in a denser etheric background, they felt very, very bad in our world. So they had no choice but to ask wizards for help. Wizards, realizing that creatures with natural magic would make excellent helpers, agreed — but imposed slave magical contracts on them. Since then, house-elves have been slaves to magical families. What's even more surprising — this suits them perfectly. They're even grateful to wizards for saving their race.
"Yes, Tinky, I do have a few questions for you," I began, walking unhurriedly down the corridor. "Who do you have a contract with, and what type?"
"Free contract with Headmaster Dumbledore, great wizard," he answered, nodding his head comically. A free contract meant I could hire him — he wasn't bound to Hogwarts. The elf community at Hogwarts is the largest in Europe, precisely because this is where elves who have lost their masters or recently born ones are located.
"And how many of you are there like that?"
"Tinky cannot count, sir wizard, but more than fingers on hands." What a paradoxical race. They can apparate unnoticed within Hogwarts, possess natural magic from birth, but can't count and are slaves to wizards.
"And what do I need to do to hire one?" I asked, since a loyal keeper for Availon would be useful.
"Get permission from Headmaster Dumbledore and pay a thousand Galleons to the Ministry of Magic, sir wizard." There's the first reason why such useful creatures aren't snapped up. A thousand Galleons is the annual salary of an average civil servant. The second reason is that not everyone has a manor on a ley line or enough personal magical power to maintain a house-elf.
"Then would you do me a favor? Could you tell all the elves with free contracts that I'm looking for a house-elf for my family? Preferably young and trained — maybe even two, if they're of different sexes."
"You are strong, sir wizard, everyone will be happy to serve you!" With a pop, Tinky disappeared, and I continued my walk.
Looking closer, it was clear that repairs had been attempted — not once, but by many people — which made the castle look patched up. Strange that the Founders didn't leave a castle-managing spirit, at least a Loa. Maybe the contract simply expired, or the charms wore off and he escaped. Hard to say.
Here and there I saw broken lines of diagnostic or surveillance charms. Even a schoolchild could connect to them and create a map of Hogwarts. I'd already outlined a plan for researching such an ancient and interesting house-artifact. It was different from both its older Sumerian analogues, like Kozebu, and from modern ones.
The magical world is small and quite closed, so global breakthroughs by individual geniuses often remain unknown, and new charms turn out to be forgotten old ones. It's foolish to either underestimate magic of the past and present, or to exalt it. You need to analyze both, combining the advantages of different approaches when possible.
After walking for about an hour, I returned to my room. Half an hour later, there was a knock at the door.
"Good morning." Opening the door, I saw a girl in Slytherin colors with a prefect badge on her prominent chest. She was definitely beautiful, and with her cold, ice-blue gaze and long platinum-blonde hair, she looked every bit the ice queen.
"Are you Arthur Marlow? My name is Narcissa Black, I'm the Slytherin prefect. Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to take you to breakfast and give you an orientation tour."
"Good morning, mademoiselle," I replied with a slight bow. Since she didn't offer her hand, there was no need to kiss it. "Yes, my name is Arthur Marlow. Pleased to meet you. I need to get ready — will you wait outside or come in?"
"I'll wait outside." I didn't expect any other answer. Since she's officially engaged, being in the same room with another man could be perceived wrongly by others. No wonder she emphasized being a prefect and carrying out the headmaster's assignment. She immediately showed this wasn't her personal initiative.
Actually, I was ready — bottomless bag in hand, suitcase hidden in the wardrobe. I asked just to test her. If she'd agreed to enter, it would have shown she was dissatisfied with her engagement or showing sympathy toward me.
I hate aristocrats. You can't just ask directly, "Do you like Lucius and Voldemort, or not?" And Dumbledore's test is also annoying. Sending the Slytherin prefect and a Black — who's a half-blood veela — to me can't be anything else. Is he checking which side I'm on, or whether I'm interested in the Blacks? Most likely. Or maybe there was no headmaster's assignment at all, and this is Narcissa's personal initiative or her family's.
And her thoughts are closed, at least the surface ones. Going deeper would immediately expose myself. I'd have to act through empathy. Fortunately, girls don't wear amulets against veela aura — there's simply no need.
"Sorry for the wait." I came out five minutes later and cast locking and alarm charms on the door nonverbally. "How should I address you? Prefect, Narcissa, Miss Black?"
"Miss Black will do," she answered. "You have surprisingly good English for a Frenchman. As if you grew up in England."
"Thank you for the compliment," I smiled, subtly beginning to transmit a feeling of sympathy with my aura. If she's an Occlumens, she'll easily notice a sharp change in her mood. But a gradual change, especially since I'm behaving extremely politely, is difficult to notice even for me. This is the danger of love magic: an imposed thought is easy to detect if it stands out, but imposed feelings are another matter.
But she's asking questions with a catch. Identifying my mother as a relatively well-known personality is easy, but my father is another matter. I was never really in the magical world. Was I afraid for my parents? Not particularly. If Gaunt comes to France, they'll bury him there — Flamel doesn't need someone else's Dark Lord. And they're loaded with artifacts, so they'll escape to Availon if anything happens.
Still, the idea of making my own manor had already crossed my mind. Then I wouldn't have to worry at all, and even Death Eaters wouldn't dare climb into Beauxbatons.
I answered Narcissa in Russian. "I believe one should develop comprehensively."
"My family thinks the same way," she answered clumsily, with a strong accent, but in the same language.
"I see you're wearing my invention on your finger," I changed the subject after two minutes of silence.
"Yours?" she was surprised. Genuinely surprised, too. "I thought that in the Marlow family only your mother was an artificer."
"And doesn't it bother you to wear a veela's invention?"
"For me, the main thing is the quality of the product, not who produced it." Black skillfully evaded the answer. She didn't express her opinion.
"Commendable. I think exactly the same way," I nodded. "But still, Marlow rings are called that because of me. I also helped create the rescue bracelets, as well as bracelets for veela and werewolves, but to a much lesser extent."
"But how old were you then?" Clearly, she didn't quite believe it.
"Age is such a flaw that it quickly passes by itself with time. My teacher thinks the same way." Aha, there was a response. The Black family keeps track of Phineas and everything connected to him. But credit where it's due — the girl's face maintained the same indifferent expression.
"And what are you creating now? Or do you have no projects yet?" she asked with hidden mockery. Still, I evoked some degree of sympathy from her — like, a little liar, but a cute one.
"There is one, but it's not for sale. I'm submitting it for the Master of Artificing title," I surprised her again. "If you want, I can show it to you tonight."
"And what is it?" She was genuinely curious, but tried not to show it.
"A thing that will change the entire magical world. It will allow calculations of charms or rituals in a matter of minutes." I wasn't going to show her the magicomp. But a simplified prototype from one crystal? Why not? It was an excellent excuse to remove the mental matrix from her completely voluntarily.
Only a master of mental magic would feel not an invasion of the mind as such, but its copying, as when creating a doppelganger. In Lerach's book I read about an archmage of doppelganger magic who removed matrices from his opponents and made entire armies and harems from them. Of course, the matrix would still need to be deciphered, but that's what I have the magicomp for.
"You've intrigued me, but you should know that I'm already engaged." She couldn't not say this.
"Then you can set the place and time yourself. I absolutely don't claim a girl who's already taken." I felt her relief and, at the same time, some degree of disappointment. Well yes, everyone wants to be desired, and here a handsome guy said he's not interested. But with such girls, persistence would rather be harmful. A balance of showing attention without particular interest works quite well — but only if the girl already feels sympathy. There's no point in demonstratively ignoring a beauty who doesn't care about you.
"How about after the tour? I'm free from classes today anyway." At that moment we arrived at the Great Hall.
Since my companion was from Slytherin, I sat at the same table, opposite her. She herself sat next to Lucius Malfoy, to whom she nodded lightly. The guy was handsome and smooth like me, but more lean and slender. Also, like me, he was a platinum blonde and dressed in a school robe made of very expensive materials.
He glanced at me briefly, without any show of attention. He reminded me of fairy-tale elves — just as cold and detached as they were beautiful. Judging by the same badge on his chest as Narcissa's, he was also a house prefect.
I began my meal — oatmeal, toast with jam, and pumpkin juice. I didn't drink the latter, transfiguring a glass from air, which caused some attention from those around me, and pouring juice from my flask into it.
"Don't like pumpkin juice?" asked the guy sitting next to me. "Oh, sorry, Bernard Selwyn, sixth year."
"Arthur Marlow, fifth year," I introduced myself and continued. "You see, it's not just about that. The juice has a strong taste and is made from magical pumpkin, so slipping a potion into it so that analytical charms don't work correctly is very easy." Not to mention that something was indeed slipped into it, just as I was approaching. And the empty spot was clearly marked out. A trap for an idiot.
"Is that so? Were there precedents?" he asked, internally feeling annoyance.
"There were attempts," I answered, and didn't lie. Attempts from that kid who tore wings off fairies really were there.
"And how did they end?"
"The medical wing." He began to smile, but after my further words the smile faded. "For those attempting."
Ten minutes later Narcissa approached me along with Malfoy. She introduced us and continued the tour.
First, she showed me Hogwarts' constantly moving staircases. They shifted from one landing to another, often preventing passage to the right place, and you had to either wait or go around. I understood they were created as another defense system against weak wizards or ordinary people. The sometimes disappearing steps confirmed this too.
However, due to the deterioration of charms, something got messed up in them. In my opinion, if they can't fix it, they should at least turn them off completely and make normal staircases. Children walk here who can't fly.
Next, she showed me where all the house common rooms were located, the Astronomy Tower, the gamekeeper's hut (though only from a window), the Owlery, the Great Hall, the headmaster's office, and all the professors' offices. Black not only showed but also told about everything.
Even considering that Narcissa knew various tricky passages behind statues and paintings — also a legacy of the once-battle castle — we walked quite a lot. If I didn't even break a sweat, Narcissa was only going on willpower, not showing that she was tired.
"Maybe we should stop by my place after all? Rest after such a lengthy tour?" I said this like a serpent-tempter, specifically when we were near my room, and the Slytherin common room was still far away. The whole way I had been strengthening her sympathy toward me, and now, on the contrary, I strengthened her desire to drop everything and come to my place.
"Only if it's brief. I hope for your decency."
"You insult me with such distrust," I answered, opening the door and entering first. In the magical world, women aren't let through first — quite the opposite. Going first is a sign of trust, since it's very easy to strike in the back with charms.
Although, considering how many artifacts were hung on the girl, you'd have to try hard to stun her with the first blow. If I'm not mistaken, she even had the Eye of Omut — an artifact that constantly records everything happening to its owner. Even if you somehow turn it off, it would be noticeable later that a piece is missing.
Leading her into my study, I said into the air, "Tinky," and the eared elf appeared before me.
"How may I serve, sir wizard?"
"Prepare tea for me," I answered. "Miss Black, will you have anything? Don't worry, this is a Hogwarts elf."
"Then tea for me too," she answered, after which Tinky disappeared.
"I'll go get my project from the bedroom. Make yourself at home." I kept all important artifacts in Availon, so I had to go to the suitcase and pull out the prototype. I wasn't worried that she would enter the bedroom — I had nothing in the study anyway.
Magicomp-lite, as I called it, was a crystal in the shape of a glass, encircled in the center by a metal rim with runes, and the main headband. Half the runes were fake, just as Phineas taught — it's much harder to determine truth in half-truth than in pure fake.
I returned just as the house-elf appeared with a tray and teleported it to the table. "Thank you, Tinky, you may go."
"You praise a house-elf?" she asked, adding two spoonfuls of sugar to her tea and stirring.
"Every living creature loves affection," I answered, placing the artifact on the table and adding three spoonfuls to my cup, taking a sip. Not bad, but I like it less strong. "Except humans. Humans can respond to a good deed with meanness if they see profit in it."
"I can't disagree with you. So you still haven't told me what kind of artifact this is," she said, nodding at the crystal.
"I won't tell you the operating principle — that's an artificer's secret," I spread my hands. "But I already told you what it does. There's one problem — only one person can use the artifact, its owner, because it's purely personal and customizable. But I'll give you one, with two conditions."
"If you're setting conditions, then I'll probably refuse."
"No, no, they won't burden you at all. First: I need advertising from you. If you like it, then recommend my magicogitator to your acquaintances and friends."
"That's not difficult, but aren't you afraid I'll claim the rights to the discovery for myself?" she asked.
"The patent is already registered, and the application for mastery was submitted by my teacher. Extra advertising among rich and influential people, whom my product is oriented toward, will be useful to me."
"Good, and the second condition?" The girl tensed.
"Nothing complicated — just tell your family that I'm ready for dialogue. I don't demand anything and don't ask for anything, but I understand that the question of my engagement to an adopted, albeit former, but representative of the noble Black family, indirectly affected your family's interests."
"I'll pass on your request, but I can't guarantee anything," she answered dryly.
"I'll tell you a secret," I said, trying to bring her feelings into the open, "my engagement is a forced step on my teacher's initiative."
This information doesn't change much, but I achieved my goal — I felt that the words about engagement and forced step caused her doom and sympathy. Though she answered something completely different.
"I don't understand why you're telling me this. Thank you for the artifact, but I must go." I understood she wouldn't talk to me about this topic for now, so I didn't insist.
"Allow me to escort you." I walked the thoughtful and burdened girl all the way to the Slytherin common room. This wasn't necessary, but was welcomed by etiquette and was simply the right thing to do. She walked with me all over Hogwarts — and I'd be too lazy to escort her to the common room? "Thank you for the tour. I'll be glad to see you anytime."
Returning to my room, I began to wait. She'll surely first check the artifact with various charms, possibly go to teachers, but she won't find anything harmful. She might give the artifact to someone from the older generation, but that would be even better for me.
I just need to know whether it's possible to bring the girl out from under the influence of her family and Lucius, who was sparkling with a freshly acquired slave mark. Moreover, doing this wouldn't be so difficult if she really wants to — it's enough to show an alternative. Now there's practically no alternative: either you're with Gaunt, or you're against him and your family.
I wasn't even thinking of going to classes — I'd rather go to the library. But before that, I decided to finish one idea after all.
Using true sight, I found the nearest charm node in my room — a half-destroyed bronze rune embedded inside the wall. Activating the dome of secrets, putting on the headband for connection with the magicomp, and throwing several cognition charms at the rune, I winced from the headache.
"Hal, receive data. Runic node of magical connection based on elder futhark, upper half damaged. What rune can we turn it into to connect directly to the castle? All available information I collected today, I'm dumping as a thought-image."
"Information received, master. Engaging time acceleration," he answered. Of course, I could do everything the old-fashioned way, by trial and error, but there's a danger the headmaster will notice my actions.
Five minutes later Hal answered, "Ansuz can be turned into Fehu and continue the runic connection to the transmitter. Will require pig's blood, mouse bone powder, and bronze."
"Got it, Hal. What about the four degenerates?" An illusion of the necessary additions appeared before me, overlaying on the wall, so only an armless idiot could make a mistake. Yeah, the magicomp greatly facilitates work. The magicogitator that I want to release, while a huge help for a wizard, is only for a smart wizard.
Since it takes the matrix from the wizard himself. And a smart wizard will be strong in the future even without my artifact — it will just take longer to get there. But in perspective, my invention will not only bring considerable reputation, money and fame, but also advance magical thought. At least I hope for this, and not that wizards will become completely lazy.
"Conversations about Quidditch, brooms, their fathers' raids, how they'll humiliate Muggles, especially women, and annoying lessons," he answered me.
"Yeah, the flower of the nation indeed. If they bother anyone else, and also if others do or plan this — report. But mainly, gather more information about these Knights of Walpurgis and their leader."
"Understood, master." At that moment I took out the artificer's kit from the suitcase, a jar of blood, a bronze ball, and a pouch with bone powder. In the last month before school, I'd stocked up well on all possible ingredients, since I didn't know if I could get them later.
The kit had a brush made from unicorn hair — quite neutral and conducts mana well. Pouring energy into the brush, I dipped it in blood and drew the Fehu rune over Ansuz, threw a pinch of powder and pressed the bronze ball to the drawing, pronouncing the spell, "Reactivilio."
The ball "drowned" in the stone, changing the rune and repairing it. I exhaled. The work wasn't complex, but meticulous — you need to dose energy very precisely. Too little, and it won't break through the reinforced stone's protection; too much, and you can ruin the node. Everything's on its last legs.
Next was simpler. Around the rune I laid out a chain of smaller runes, enclosed it all in a hectogram and circle, then applied the headband to the circle, which also fused into the stone. Soon the node disappeared inside the wall, and Hal told me:
"Receiving information, but there's too much of it, and it's quite fragmentary. We may need to restore several more nodes before we can connect to the center, which is presumably located somewhere underground."
"No problem, don't rush. The main thing is that no one discovers our intrusion," I answered and went to Availon.
Before going to the library, I needed to make a simple Sumerian artifact based on book copying charms. But not a simple one — with a built-in magicogitator, since materializing books would take a lot of mana, and I only need matrices.
I didn't need it before, but now it will come in handy. By the way, what's interesting is that in Sumerian times, important books were protected from copying, but now no one cares about this, since these charms are lost. That's why books are so expensive now, and snobbery and pride don't allow turning to ordinary people's experience.
No, there are copying charms based on transfiguration, but such books turn out to be short-lived, and not everyone can use permanent transfiguration. I'm a simple person — my own library will be useful to me.
Hmm, I should make two artifacts — give one to Mom so she can copy everything there too. The main thing is to convince her that this isn't theft, since essentially nothing disappears.
***
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Thank you for the help with the power stones!!!