Chapter 33: Chapter 32
"I didn't think there'd be anything left around here that collectors hadn't already added to their collections," the girl muttered. "But whatever, not my business. If we're going to stick our heads into a dragon's mouth, we should at least exchange what we know about each other's skills."
"Reasonable. I was going to suggest the same, just a bit later," I nodded with a touch of respect. Not every adventurer remembers to sync up in terms of combat readiness when they're buzzing with excitement over exploring something unknown, mysterious, and dangerous. "As for me... I'm proficient in all the basic combat spells used by Aurors. I doubt there's much difference between the British and German variants," I added with a shrug.
"Same here, though don't expect any advanced versions of spells, like improved Protego or Stupefy Tria — let alone Quadra. Maybe Bombarda Maxima at best. I'm partly self-taught, not a full-fledged student from one of the schools," she said, shrugging it off without any hint of embarrassment.
"By the way, why didn't you attend Hogwarts? From what I've heard, there are some Irish students there," I asked, finally addressing something I'd been curious about for a while. It was obvious she didn't attend, considering it wasn't a holiday period at the British school.
"What's the point?" Vinnie shrugged again. "Technically, I'm considered a half-blood, so the main reason people go there — to build connections — isn't really available to me. Plus, they don't teach the best things there, unlike schools that are more focused on combat and open to Dark Magic, like your Durmstrang."
"Well, that's debatable... Maybe Slytherin wouldn't be the best fit for you, but Ravenclaw could've been a solid choice. There's a lot to learn there, and the head of the house is quite famous. Professor Flitwick is known even on the continent…" I paused briefly. "And, by the way, Hogwarts has the youngest Potions Master in the last two centuries. Rumor has it, he's from the Princes. Yes, those Princes. The rest of the staff is decent too, except for a couple, maybe."
"Yeah, I've heard something like that. My mother probably knew too, but without much detail. Not everyone has access to different sources of information, and I don't trust the newspapers at all," the Irish girl replied, watching the grass in front of her as she walked. "But the main reason is something else. Money, money..."
"Oh," I mentally kicked myself. Why was I overthinking it? The reason was so simple and mundane. It even felt a little… disappointing. Muggle-born students, unfamiliar with and often rejecting the norms of the magical world, get in freely on broad quotas, while half-bloods like Vinnie have to scrape together thousands of Galleons.
It's not like I hadn't thought about addressing this in some of my future plans… but it wasn't one of my top priorities. More of a back-burner issue.
"Exactly, Mr. Rich Boy," Vinnie smirked, clearly amused at my realization.
"I see… What about Dark Magic? I know that in Britain it's been frowned upon for the past fifty years, but maybe it's different in Ireland?" I asked with a hint of hope. Basic combat spells were good and all, and while they may not be as powerful as those cast by experienced adult wizards, they were still useful. But… magical creatures are a different story. Most of them have high resistance to spells, and with regular magic, especially from teenagers, it's tough to deal with them.
...Alright, incredibly tough.
"All that chaos started after we broke free from British jurisdiction," Vinnie remarked with a hint of glee. "Of course, they tried to make some noise about it, especially when Dumbledore came to power, but they never succeeded. We don't have a Ministry here, and there's no plan to create one."
"By the way... how did that happen? I know you never formed a Ministry, but I never really looked into the details."
"Well… I'm not exactly an expert, but I remember some things. And if you think about it logically… The Council of Old Farts didn't want to share power with a bunch of bureaucrats. And, as much as I'm not a fan of our Wizard's Council, it was the right call on their part," Vinnie paused briefly, thinking. "The Brits would've definitely gotten involved if we'd formed a Ministry… But right now, things are actually pretty good. Sure, those smug old guys are stuck in past centuries, but that's kind of the point — they didn't interfere as much in the lives of regular wizards back then."
"I assume the Yanks weren't too happy about that setup," I chuckled, imagining the frustration of those folks. Maybe regular Ireland suffered in WWII, even though it was neutral, but the magical side of it remained untouched. So, the Americans couldn't meddle with its sovereignty.
"Oh, more than once," Vinnie confirmed with a grin. "My mother was a distant relative of one of the Council members, so I heard some things from him about that. And I assume it's different for you?"
"Unfortunately, yes. War leaves its scars, especially the first global war among wizards. And our overseas 'partners' tried to interfere after the Muggle World War I as well, but it didn't work out," I said. "The consequences still linger today. But we've gotten off track. Let's get back to the matter of Dark Magic. What about it?"
"You know about Bluebeard's classification?"
"The one created in the fifteenth century by the greatest dark wizard of France, Gilles de Rais?"
"That's the one. You guys use a different system, but we borrowed ours from the French. We've always had better relations with them. I think you understand why. Plus, they're simply closer," Vinnie explained, glancing toward the forest.
However, there was nothing there except for birds.
"Mhm… I suppose. I don't remember the classification perfectly, but I recall the basics."
"I'm a 'Follower,'" the sorceress stated succinctly.
"Oh," I said, raising my eyebrows. "I suspected it earlier, but it looks like I've stumbled upon a genius." There was no flattery in my tone, just a simple observation.
"Me? A genius? I mean, I'm smarter than most, sure, but a genius? I wouldn't go that far. I'm not a fan of such grand, vague titles," Vinnie replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But since I've told you, what's your level in Dark Magic?" She eyed me suspiciously.
"Uh… 'Practitioner,'" I admitted, feeling a bit awkward under Vinnie's wide-eyed stare.
"And you're not even bragging about it…" she smirked a little sadly. "So, which one of us is the genius, then?"
"Well, well. I had different conditions and training…" I trailed off, knowing how lame and excuse-ridden that sounded. I don't advertise my level, but I'm fully aware that it's unusually high for someone my age. But honestly, it's not about genius — it's just that I got incredibly lucky with my mentor. Plus, Dark Magic takes a serious toll on the mind, and most teenagers can't handle it. For me, though, that's almost not an issue for… obvious reasons.
"Right, right. All geniuses say the same thing. 'Oh, I just studied well, that's all. Uh-huh,'" she nodded with exaggerated sincerity, clearly not buying my explanations.
"Well, since I consider myself fairly intelligent, I won't continue this topic," I shrugged with mock nonchalance. "All in all, our chances of not only surviving but also coming out of this intact have significantly improved."
"A dragon once met a lizard and thought it was another dragon," Vinnie quipped, clearly illustrating her perspective on the situation.
Well… maybe she's not entirely wrong.
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