Once flipped, it creates a half-hour cognitive overclocking field condensed into a single minute of real-time. During this window, my thought process will speed up thirty times?
Wouldn't that essentially feel like stopping time?
Or maybe it was literally just his thoughts moving thirty times faster?
Professor Flitwick extended his hand. Seeing this, Richie carefully took the so-called Hyper-Cognitive Hourglass.
"Before you use this, there are a few things I must warn you about," Flitwick said, pulling his hand back. His expression turned dead serious.
"The hourglass can only be used once a day. While your mind will accelerate, your physical body will remain in its normal state. Because of this, I highly recommend only using it in a completely distraction-free environment."
"Furthermore, your first time using it will likely trigger an unpredictable level of panic. This is entirely normal. Just remember one thing: after thirty minutes, it will all be over."
Just as Richie had suspected.
He gave a firm nod. "Understood, Professor."
Seeing Richie's calm reaction, Flitwick relaxed and offered a small smile. "I trust you will use it well. Alright, it's been a long day. Head back and get some rest."
Richie stood up to leave. He drew his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Levitating the stack of second-year textbooks behind him, Richie exited the office.
Back in the office, Flitwick's eyes drifted down to the perfectly graded exam on his desk.
"Oh, a test this phenomenal shouldn't just collect dust in here," Flitwick muttered. "Perhaps this could serve as an excellent motivational tool for the other students. I need to run this by Dumbledore."
Flitwick rolled up the parchment and hurried off toward the Headmaster's office.
After leaving the office, Richie didn't head to the Starlight Sanctum. Instead, he went straight back to his dorm and deposited the new textbooks into his magically expanded trunk study.
He didn't climb back out right away. Instead, he pulled out the Hyper-Cognitive Hourglass.
Now that he had the toy, he obviously had to test it out.
Recalling Flitwick's warnings, Richie sat down at his desk. He opened a book in front of him, then rested the hourglass in the palm of his hand.
With a flick of his finger, he flipped the hourglass over.
Instantly, a sound like a roaring waterfall filled his ears. A second later, his body felt incredibly heavy, as if massive weights had just dropped onto his shoulders.
He had lost complete control of his physical body.
Richie's first instinct was to thrash and break free, but it felt like he was trapped beneath an invisible, suffocating membrane.
Then, he felt his finger twitch slightly.
Multiple residual afterimages began overlapping in his vision.
It was likely a phantom hallucination—his accelerated consciousness processing visual data far faster than his physical eyes could actually track.
Put simply: it was visualizing a predicted action before it even fully happened.
Richie's brain shifted into overdrive.
His eyes locked onto the brilliant, swirling light radiating from the hourglass in his hand, and his rising panic slowly began to fade.
Thump... thump... thump.
Slow, painfully heavy heartbeats echoed through the tiny study.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but eventually, Richie adapted to the sensation. He spent the rest of the delayed state killing time by reading the book in front of him.
One minute—or rather, thirty minutes—later, a sudden sensation of falling washed over him.
Richie violently gasped for air.
His mind and body snapped back into sync. Everything returned to normal. The golden sand inside the hourglass had completely drained into the bottom chamber.
"Wow. That is absolutely wild," Richie muttered.
He held the hourglass up, inspecting it curiously.
Almost immediately, he noticed something huge.
Were there words written on the golden sand?
The grains were microscopic, but upon closer inspection, he could just barely make out faint, distinct patterns etched into them. Richie's mind immediately jumped to one conclusion: the Thirty-Two Fundamental Alchemical Symbols!
Unfortunately, without a magnifying glass, there was no way to actually read the intricate engravings.
After a moment of thought, Richie simply tucked the hourglass back into his robes.
The Hyper-Cognitive Hourglass essentially gifted him twenty-nine extra minutes. Outside of the ability to visualize predicted movements, it didn't seem to have any other immediate practical applications for studying.
Because of this, the true value of the hourglass wasn't for reading—it was for handling emergencies.
Think about it. If someone suddenly ambushed him, he could trigger the hourglass to buy himself precious time to strategize. He could figure out how to dodge and exactly how to counterattack.
Take dueling, for example. A fight could be decided in a single second.
But in that second, he would have thirty minutes to plan his next move. Plus, he could predict the opponent's actions before they even finished casting! Even if the predictions weren't one hundred percent accurate, it was a massive advantage.
Of course, all the strategizing in the world was useless if his body couldn't physically keep up. Realizing this, Richie decided to burn his daily hourglass charge purely on training his physical reflexes to operate during that severe mental delay.
Richie climbed out of his study. The night was still young; there were three full hours left until curfew.
Given the time, Richie decided not to push himself with any more studying. It had been a brutal day, and his completely fried brain desperately needed a break.
Stretching lazily, Richie left his dorm and headed down to the common room.
The common room was packed.
A few wizards were huddled in a corner debating some highly obscure magical theory. A couple of others were lounging by the bookshelves, reading quietly. But the vast majority of the house was crowded around the notice board, engaged in a massive, heated discussion.
Ever since Richie had introduced the concept of highly analytical, data-driven Quidditch theory, the notice board had absolutely exploded. There were already over a hundred active threads.
The Ravenclaws weren't just satisfied with debating broom specs and ball aerodynamics anymore. They had started compiling a massive, comprehensive player database, tracking physical stats and favored maneuvers for every player on the pitch.
And they weren't just tracking Ravenclaws. They were cataloging players from every other house, too.
Whenever any team hit the pitch for practice, a swarm of Ravenclaws was guaranteed to be in the stands, frantically scribbling notes and running calculations. At one point, there were more Ravenclaws watching the other houses practice than actual fans from those houses.
Naturally, this made the other teams incredibly paranoid. Some even accused Ravenclaw of deploying psychological warfare and formally complained to the professors.
Unfortunately for them, the professors couldn't do a thing. Sitting in the stands and watching practice wasn't technically against any rules. Ultimately, the complaints went absolutely nowhere.
"Hey, Richie! Not studying tonight?" a first-year Ravenclaw called out.
"Not tonight. I'm taking a break," Richie said with a shrug.
"Oh, perfect! In that case, do you want to come watch the Hogwarts Wizard's Chess Challenge with me?" the boy asked excitedly. "It's a tournament hosted by the Weasley twins from Gryffindor. The top three players win some highly exclusive prizes they whipped up!"
"A tournament?" Richie nodded. "Sure, why not. Let's go check it out."
Truthfully, Richie already knew all about the Hogwarts Wizard's Chess Challenge. He was the one who had pitched the idea to the Weasley twins in the first place. It was a marketing gimmick designed to promote their prank merchandise. Naturally, the "highly exclusive prizes" were just free Dungbombs and Auto-Ink Quills.
To keep it off the professors' radar, the tournament was strictly invite-only. The only people who actually knew about it were students who had previously bought the twins' products.