Bab 21: CH21 - The Full Moon
Sweat dripped from Edmund's eyelashes onto his robes. A small crease halfway down his chest caught the droplet, preventing it from falling to the ground.
Edmund paid it no mind. His face and body were already slick from a while ago. He had not moved a muscle in a long time, and his efforts were about to pay off.
In his right arm, he held his wand steadily, pointing it at what was originally a massive boulder. Painstakingly, through the use of a singular large spell, Edmund had been steadily transfiguring the rock into a scaled sculpture of Hogwarts. Slowly, parts of the castle began to form and become recognizable.
The boat house was done, linking with the winding staircase that led up to the entrance. The courtyard and entrance hall were also complete, as was the Great Hall. The main tower that housed the Grand Staircase was finished, topped by its gigantic conular roof. The final touch Edmund made was Hagrid's hut, encircled by the beginnings of the Forbidden Forest.
The point of the exercise was threefold. First, the caster became acclimated to channelling large amounts of power over a prolonged period of time. Secondly, the user's visualization and fine control were tested to the extreme in recreating such an intricate piece. Thirdly, and perhaps most challengingly for Edmund, was material efficiency. Using the initial amount of stone present, Edmund had been required to judge the precise ratio to build the sculpture such that nothing was left over or any part of the castle was missed. Easy in theory but incredibly difficult in practice.
Putting his wand arm down, Edmund collapsed into the armchair next to him. His sweat-soaked back was stuck uncomfortably to the leather seat, but his shaky legs were a much bigger priority for him.
'Done?' Marvolo asked, likely sensing his intensely focused mindset finally dissipating.
'Hmm,' Edmund grunted in affirmation, keeping his eyes closed to rest them.
'How much stone did you have left over this time?' Marvolo demanded, not happy to let Edmund relax before he was satisfied.
'Less than a finger's worth,' Edmund replied, his voice steady. He would normally be wary of his mentor's criticisms, but he knew he had done well.
'Adequate,' Marvolo replied, confirming Edmund's suspicions.
Edmund's voice suddenly took on a hint of excitement at this, his tiredness vanishing.
'Does that mean we can move on?' he asked, not daring to hope.
'Yes,' Marvolo snorted, 'we can move on.'
*Phew* Edmund sighed in relief.
'Took long enough,' he unwittingly thought before wincing in anticipation of Marvolo's ire.
'Do not fool yourself,' Marvolo replied in the same cold voice Edmund had expected. 'You are talented, yes, but that only means you have a lot of potential to learn. And believe me, there is a lot I have to teach.'
'You will never be "done" with this exercise,' Marvolo commented caustically. 'Even now, I practice this exact skill whenever I have the chance. I have advanced to such a level that the branches on each tree on the grounds are carefully crafted to perfection. Even the individual blades of grass have proper texture to them, making them appear lifelike. It will take a lifetime of repetition for you to achieve that. I will not have you losing your patience so early.'
Appropriately chided, Edmund lowered his head. His mind couldn't help but wander in awe at what Voldemort's replica might look like. It would be something that belonged in a museum, without a doubt.
'I would still be practicing it currently if I had an adequate wand at my disposal,' Marvolo sneered in anger, a feeling that sharply assaulted Edmund's mind.
'Quirrel's wand still works for you, doesn't it?' Edmund asked, already knowing the answer. He was hoping to distract the dark lord, and Marvolo definitely knew it.
Still, he indulged him and responded.
'I could use any wand in the world to perform magic at a level much higher than even an above-average wizard. Battling a titan like Dumbledore, however, loath as I am to admit it, will require a focus that is attuned to my own magical signature,' Marvolo responded, gloating with every word as he was prone to doing.
The man was definitely a powerhouse, but his proclivity to flaunt it was entirely on another level.
'Any plans for that?' Edmund asked hesitantly, desperately hoping Marvolo's schemes wouldn't involve Edmund breaking into the headmaster's office.
'Dumbledore will never let me see my wand again,' Marvolo said resignedly. 'That is if he hasn't destroyed it already. I will have to obtain a new wand the normal way. The only question is who the wand-maker will be.'
Edmund moved on from the subject, pleased that it wasn't yet another issue that would be handed off to him.
"What about my ritual?" he asked. "The full moon already passed, and even the following one is right around the corner. I haven't even learned the runes or the ritual circle that I'll be using for it. Let alone gotten the ingredients I'll need.'
'The full moon on October 30 did indeed pass recently. There is nothing that can be done about that. As much as I may have wished it weren't so, you weren't ready at the time,' Voldemort affirmed. 'The next opportunity for you, however, is not as close as you think.'
'What do you mean? I checked the lunar calendar, and November 29 is a full moon night,' Edmund asked in confusion.
'Yes, well perhaps you should have paid more attention. November 29 is a full moon, but it is also a lunar eclipse, and that means what?...' Marvolo passed off the question to him.
'A lunar eclipse means that I won't receive the unobstructed light of the moon, which means that the ritual won't work. But that should only last half an hour to an hour at most. I'll still have the majority of the night to complete the ritual,' Edmund thought back to him.
'Correct. But a lunar eclipse means that the transformation of the werewolves will be interrupted that night, and they will be more erratic than usual. It will also be an attraction for the centaur tribe, who will be wandering the forest the entire night,' Marvolo explained. 'Conducting a ritual at such a time is only asking for trouble. Besides, the point is moot. You are not ready to design the ritual circle as you said, so you cannot proceed regardless.'
'Alright,' Edmund conceded with a huff. 'So when is the next viable full moon then?'
'In December. December the 30th to be exact,' Marvolo informed.
'That works out oddly well! The school ought to be empty, so there won't be a hassle if I don't show up the next day or even just come into the dorms tired,' Edmund realized happily.
'Or if you come back bloody,' Marvalo responded, clearly amused.
'Or if I come back bloody,' Edmund grimaced in agreement.
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In the little amount of free time that Edmund allotted for himself, a small section was devoted to searching through the Room of Lost Things.
Initially, Edmund believed himself to be rather smart. He had commanded the Room of Requirement to take the shape of the Room of Lost Things, with only the specific items that he wanted inside of it. He must have paced back and forth at least thirty times before he realized that the room would not comply.
The Room of Lost Things was called such for a good reason. It could not be magically filtered, nor could known objects inside be Accio-ed. The only way to find something was the muggle way, a challenge that Edmund took head-on.
The vast majority of the room was stuffed with rubbish. The things present in the room were usually lost for a good reason; the owner did not care enough about them to notice them missing. Used clothes from throughout the centuries littered the piles, haphazardly thrown atop one another. Old schoolbooks, belongings, and notes were also scattered everywhere, but none that Edmund had discovered so far were of use.
Money was something else Edmund had hoped to find, but all he was left with was disappointment. Either the students in the castle never lost money —a highly unlikely prospect— or the house-elves that stocked the room separated the money before throwing everything else inside —a bummer, but the likely truth.
The most expensive item Edmund had found was the kneazle statue he had used to sneak into Gryffindor tower. While he had no doubt there would be many willing buyers for it, the sculpture would be hard for him to fence reliably without the worry of being ripped off.
And so, Edmund was, unfortunately, still as poor as ever.
However, he had for the first time, found something rather exciting.
'No way,' Edmund thought, leery of picking up the artifact from its spot under a stack of old chairs.
Casting a series of charms, he checked it for any spells that might harm or negatively influence him. When his diagnostics returned negative, he allowed giddiness to fill him as he held up the bag.
With a tanned leather look, the small bag was outlined along the edges by alternating red and blue triangles. The center of the pouch was adorned with a painting of a creepy face in white, giving it a distinct look.
'This is a damn bag of holding,' Edmund thought with disbelief, his eyes bugging out.
The undetectable extension charm was a finicky spell. The power required to cast the spell varied depending on the original size of the object and the desired amount of extended space. Most trunks in the wizarding world were slightly expanded, but that was not so much of an impressive feat. Even wizarding tents, as mind-breaking as they were, created space inside an already large area.
The smaller the initial size of the space being expanded, the exponentially more power and finesse that was required.
Hermione's beaded pouch that she used to contain supplies during the Horcrux hunt was a work of art. Small, and easily portable, with massive storage inside of it. The fact that the girl had managed to cast the charm, even as a seventh year, was an incredible feat. It spoke to her talent, her tenacity, and also to her recklessness.
Space magic was highly regulated for a very good reason. When the spell worked, it was wonderful. But when it failed, the consequences were also inversely terrifying.
Edmund had seen pictures of victims of the backlash of spatial magic, and they were not pretty. He had not intended on crafting his own extended pouch until he got a chance to work with Jeremy's father, something he was in talks with him about.
This was an unexpected boon that would make the transport of his ritual ingredients much simpler. The bag could not be used in his everyday life without questions of where he got it, and Edmund would not risk that such an expensive artifact was still being searched for by the family that lost it.
The pouch would be his own little secret.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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