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66.66% HP: Man of Archives / Chapter 42: Chapter 41 + [R18]

章節 42: Chapter 41 + [R18]

The discussion about potential purchases was quite lengthy. However, since it was a free consultation with a knowledgeable professional, I didn't mind. What particularly caught my attention were the prices, which seemed quite unusual compared to what they should have been. For example, the price of Stonehammer Fortress.

 

The listed price of eight hundred Galleons seemed very cheap for such a property, but there was a catch. The catch was that the fortress housed a variety of magical creatures, pests, and minor anomalies—either caused by a mutated spell or by the creatures themselves. Furthermore, various magical plants had already taken root in the fortress's rooms and walls. In essence, the cost of restoring the place would far exceed the building's actual price. The goblins simply didn't want to invest their resources in it.

 

It all sounded logical enough. While I'm not planning to buy anything yet, I still want to take a look. I've arranged to meet with the goblin in a few days to inspect the fortress, as it has piqued my interest.

 

While walking through Diagon Alley, I noticed a few familiar faces, but since they seemed busy, I didn't stop them. After Apparating home, I busied myself sorting the gifts I had prepared for friends and acquaintances.

 

Then the phone rang. Cindy answered it, speaking to someone as if such calls were routine for her.

 

"Timothy!" she called. "Mr. Granger wants to speak with you."

 

"Yes?" I replied, surprised. "Alright, give me a minute."

 

She returned to the call. When I approached, she handed me the phone.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Timothy Jody, is that you?" a man asked.

 

"Yes, it's me," I confirmed.

 

"Thank God," he said with relief. "I'd like to discuss something with you, something related to magic."

 

"Alright," I nodded, already wondering what might have happened.

 

"Hermione… she's ended up in a clinic, St. Mungo's," he began. "But I don't know where that clinic is or how to get there."

 

"Hm," I replied. "What are your plans for today?"

 

"We're at home," he said.

 

"Good, then wait for me," I told him. "I'll come by shortly."

 

"Uh, okay," he said, still a bit uncertain. "We'll be waiting."

 

Cindy, who was standing nearby, gave me a curious nod, silently asking what had happened.

 

"I'm heading over to the Grangers'," I told her. "I need to discuss something with them."

 

"Alright," she nodded. "When will you be back?"

 

"Maybe in the evening," I replied. "Depends on how the conversation goes."

 

"Good luck," she smiled. "I'll make pasta with German sausages for dinner tonight."

 

"Oh!"

 

I left the house and Apparated to the Grangers' home. It was easy since I knew exactly where to Apparate without Muggles noticing anything.

 

The Grangers' house hadn't changed much since the last time I was there. I knocked on the door and waited for it to open. Mr. Granger looked surprised that I had arrived so quickly; it had only been about ten minutes since we spoke on the phone.

 

"Mr. Jody," he said, shaking my hand. "Please, come in."

 

His wife only nodded at me. Their anxiety was palpable, but I didn't probe into their thoughts. There was no need—soon enough, they would tell me everything.

 

They led me into the kitchen. Mr. Granger handed me a piece of paper while his wife made coffee. As I skimmed the letter, I frowned slightly. It stated that Hermione had been admitted to the hospital due to some incident at Hogwarts. There were no details about what had happened or when they could see her. That was troubling and odd. If I were a parent, I'd be extremely worried in their situation.

 

"Do you know what's going on?" Mr. Granger asked.

 

"Not really," I shook my head. "I just got back from traveling, but St. Mungo's is one of the best magical hospitals in the country. So, you don't need to worry about her health."

 

"But what happened to her?" Mrs. Granger asked. "We're not getting any information, and we don't know who to turn to... What if they've already harvested and sold my little girl's organs!"

 

"I highly doubt that," I said, shaking my head at such a notion. "But I'm also curious to find out what happened."

 

"Can you take us to this hospital?" Mr. Granger asked.

 

"I don't think so," I replied. "It's a magical hospital, and it's difficult for Muggles to get in. But," I added, stopping them from saying anything further, "I can go there myself and find out how Hermione's doing and her health status. How does that sound?"

 

Mr. Granger looked at his wife, and she nodded.

 

"Alright," he said. "Can you do that as soon as possible?"

 

"What time is it now?" I asked, glancing around for a clock.

 

"It's noon," Hermione's mother quickly responded.

 

"The hospital should be open for visits now," I said. "I don't have any other plans today, so I'll head there right away."

 

"Thank you, thank you so much," she said, her tone filled with a mix of joy and relief.

 

"Do you want to send anything with me?" I asked.

 

"Some fruit," Mr. Granger said. "Give me two minutes, and I'll gather it."

 

Hermione's mother wrote a small list of questions for me to ask her, all related to her health. It wasn't difficult, and it would help ease their anxiety. I couldn't imagine what they had been feeling over the past two weeks since receiving the letter.

 

I'm not sure what Dumbledore or McGonagall are thinking... Maybe because she's Muggle-born, they assume no one would care as much. But if that's the case, it raises several other questions they won't want to answer. It's not my place to ask, though, so I'll let it go for now.

 

Apparating directly to the hospital wasn't possible. You had to use the Floo Network or walk. To my knowledge, only official Healers and Emergency Service staff could directly transport patients in critical condition to the hospital.

 

Using the Floo Network wasn't difficult, but it did take a bit of time.

 

The hospital's reception area was spacious. A large registration desk handled incoming patients, with several witches ready to assist anyone who approached. As I entered, they glanced at me, quickly assessing what problems I might be bringing with me.

 

Apart from me, a few other wizards were in the reception area. One had tentacles instead of an arm, likely the result of a potion gone wrong or perhaps a curse, though the latter seemed less probable. Another had a broken arm and a badly bruised face. If not for first-aid spells, he probably would have bled out.

 

One of the things that caught my attention was a series of informative posters. One read, "A clean cauldron keeps your potion from turning into poison," showing a wizard brewing a potion in a dirty cauldron, drinking it, turning pale and green, swelling up, and then bursting into some kind of unpleasant, pus-like goo. Ugh.

 

"How can the hospital help you?" one of the witches asked as I approached the registration desk.

 

"I'm looking for Hermione Granger," I said.

 

"Oh, are you a relative?" she asked.

 

"A family friend," I replied calmly.

 

"Alright," she nodded, quickly scanning the records. "Hermione Granger, thirteen years old, second floor, room number three."

 

"And why is she there?" I asked, mildly curious. The second floor was the "Creature-Induced Injuries" ward.

 

"There's no information on the record," she said. "You'll have to ask the Healer in that department."

 

"Got it, thanks."

 

Heading up the stairs, I quickly made my way to the second floor. As I passed through the door, I was met by a young nurse. Upon closer inspection, I recognized her as a former Hogwarts student, a Ravenclaw who had graduated a year before me.

 

"Which room are you looking for?" she asked.

 

"Room three, Hermione Granger," I replied.

 

"Oh, finally someone's come," she said with obvious relief. "Follow me."

 

"You seem glad someone's finally visiting," I said, slightly surprised. It felt like they were eager to be rid of her.

 

"Yes, exactly," she nodded. "She's already on the mend. There are no injuries we can't heal. It's time for her to go home."

 

"Are there any other issues?" I asked.

 

"You'll see for yourself," she shrugged. "Healer Murdock will explain the situation to you. I'm not allowed to discuss it."

 

We entered the room, and it was hard not to notice Hermione. She had become noticeably thinner since the last time I saw her. Her skin was a sickly shade, and her eyes had lost their usual spark.

 

"Hey, Hermione," I said, nodding to her as I pointed to a chair. "Mind if I sit?"

 

"Of course," she said softly.

 

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

 

"Okay," she answered without much emotion.

 

"Hm," I nodded and then pulled out some fruit. "Your parents sent these."

 

A small smile appeared on her face as she eagerly grabbed the bag and pulled out an apple. Without hesitation, she bit into it like someone starving at a feast.

 

"Ahem," a voice interrupted. It was an older man with gray hair and numerous wrinkles, clearly a seasoned Healer.

 

"Good afternoon," I greeted him. "Are you Healer Murdock?"

 

"Yes, that's me," he nodded. "And you are?"

 

"Timothy Jody," I introduced myself, flashing my rings of mastery in Charms and Transfiguration. I noticed his eyes quickly flick over the rings, and his posture subtly shifted. Initially, it had been somewhat aggressive, but now it was more relaxed.

 

"Pleasure to meet you," he nodded. "I see you're here for Hermione. That's good."

 

"Of course," I nodded. "How is she?"

 

"Well," he hesitated, his eyes darting slightly. "She's fine."

 

It didn't seem like everything was fine. I needed to dig deeper.

 

"Let's take a walk and let the girl enjoy her fruit. They're good for her."

 

I stood up, and the Healer led me into the corridor, stopping by a window. Several other nurses and Healers passed by, not paying much attention to us, though they seemed ready to assist if needed.

 

"I don't even know how to explain this," the Healer began, gazing out the window. Below, the non-magical part of London bustled with cars, buses, and people hurrying about, unaware of the magical world existing right next to them.

 

"Start from the beginning," I encouraged him. "How did she end up here?"

 

"I can't say, because I don't know," he sighed. "I've heard there was some magical incident at Hogwarts. Rumor has it there was a basilisk involved, but I'm not sure... Headmaster Dumbledore isn't sharing much information with us."

 

"Then what happened to her exactly?" I pressed.

 

"If it was the basilisk's gaze, she survived it," the Healer exhaled. "But when she regained consciousness, her body had suffered a massive magical blow, possibly from the creature, if it was a basilisk. We've healed most of the physical damage, and she's mentally stable. But her magical state…"

 

He trailed off, and from his expression, I could tell things weren't as good as he would have liked.

 

"How bad is it?" I asked.

 

"She's losing her magic," he said grimly. "And if nothing is done, she'll turn into a Squib. And we both know what that means."

 

Squibs—magical individuals who have lost their ability to use magic—are essentially disabled in the wizarding world. While they can function physically, they are still considered crippled. Those born as Squibs adapt better, but those who lose their magic later in life... that's a different story entirely.

 

"I see," I nodded thoughtfully, keeping my composure. "Is there any course of potions you can prescribe her?"

 

"Yes," he nodded. "We've slowed the loss of her magic as much as we can, but it won't stop the process. I can give you a small course that will stretch out the progression. But it won't cure her."

 

"I understand, but I'd appreciate the potions," I nodded. "How long will she need to stay here?"

 

"She'll be discharged tomorrow," he said immediately. "In fact, she could have been released a week ago, but since we couldn't contact anyone, she's stayed longer than necessary."

 

"Alright," I accepted his words. "Is there anything else I should know?"

 

"Not really," the Healer said. "She just needs a healthy diet, social interaction, and as little thought about magic as possible."

 

I nodded, taking his advice to heart.

 

Returning to the room, I sat with Hermione for a while longer. She didn't seem too interested in talking, and I wasn't sure what to say. Sitting in silence gave me time to think about how to heal her. For most people, I wouldn't go to such lengths, but for her... I couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl.

 

With the Philosopher's Stone in my possession, I could create an extract called Panacea, a magical substance that can heal almost anything, even bring someone back to life shortly after death. But there's a catch: the extract can only be used on a person once, and using it reduces the Stone's size. After several uses, the Stone would cease to exist. Considering its value, I understand how precious the Panacea is.

 

Dumbledore, who also possessed the Philosopher's Stone, created such an extract to heal himself after a failed experiment with dragons, so it won't help him anymore. But it could help Hermione. And maybe I could even make some for myself for the future...

 

"Thank you for coming," Hermione said as I was getting ready to leave.

 

"We'll meet again tomorrow, and I'll take you home," I nodded.

 

"And then what?" she asked.

 

"We'll figure out what to do next."

 

She nodded, her face brightening a little. I left the hospital and met with her parents again.

 

"I'll bring her home tomorrow," I told them.

 

"How is she?" her father asked.

 

"She's feeling down emotionally," I replied. "When she comes home, try to avoid talking to her about magic. Her injury is connected to it."

 

"Understood," her parents nodded seriously. "But what should we do?"

 

"Healthy food, positive emotions," I said. "A sense of normalcy. Leave the magical concerns to me."

 

"Can you help her?" her mother asked.

 

"Yes," I nodded.

 

"Will it cost us anything?" she continued.

 

"No," I shook my head. "There's no cost for this treatment."

 

"But why?" her father asked. "Is it very cheap? Or very expensive?"

 

"The latter," I nodded. "I won't say more for your own safety."

 

"I see," he replied.

 

They understood that they wouldn't be able to learn more about the treatment, but if it would help their daughter, they were willing to accept complete ignorance. They were ready to entrust their daughter's magical issues to someone who was almost a stranger.

 

When I returned home, Cindy started asking me about the meeting with the Grangers, but I simply told her I couldn't discuss it. She didn't press further, respecting my boundaries. My father wasn't too interested either; he just wanted to know if I could help the girl. I told him yes, and that was enough for him.

 

The next morning, I returned to the Grangers'. They had prepared a room for Hermione, cleaning and washing everything. They wanted to come with me, and convincing them not to was difficult. I could have used magic, but why bother? So I tried again, reasoning with them, and this time, they agreed. The second attempt at persuasion proved more successful.

 

Apparating back to the hospital, I went straight to the registration desk.

 

"I'm here to pick up a discharged patient," I said.

 

"Who?" asked the elderly witch wearing an odd hat.

 

"Hermione Granger."

 

She quickly found the girl's file and nodded.

 

"You can go up to the second floor," she said. "You'll collect her there."

 

Climbing the stairs, I nodded to the familiar nurse and found Hermione. She was already ready to leave, having been waiting for me since the morning. The Healer greeted me warmly and handed over a small box of potions.

 

"These potions need to be taken once a day in the morning," he explained. "Hermione knows."

 

"Excellent," I nodded. "Is there anything else I should know?"

 

The Healer shook his head.

 

"Then we'll be going."

 

We shook hands. Taking the girl's bag, we headed for the exit. On the first floor, a few wizards gave her curious looks, but when they met my gaze, they quickly lost interest.

 

"We're going to Apparate now," I told her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

She wasn't expecting it and looked a little startled, but my words calmed her.

 

"Are you ready?" I asked.

 

"Yes, I'm ready," she nodded.

 

In the next moment, we were sucked into the Apparition tunnel, only to be spat out in front of the Grangers' house a second later. Hermione swayed slightly but managed to keep her balance. I let her stand for a moment to get her bearings after the trip—it seemed this was her first time Apparating.

 

"How do you feel?" I asked.

 

"A little dizzy," she said quietly.

 

"That'll pass soon."

 

And indeed, the dizziness passed, and we headed into her house. The elder Grangers were thrilled to see their daughter. Hermione's mother immediately fussed over her, whisking her away to the bathroom.

 

"Thank you so much," Mr. Granger said. "Without you, we would've been going around in circles trying to reach her."

 

"No problem," I nodded.

 

"When will you come by for her treatment?" he asked.

 

"Tomorrow morning," I told him.

 

"Do we need to prepare anything?" he asked.

 

"No."

 

Leaving them to their own devices, I returned home and started calculating the theoretical creation of the extract. The most important thing was to calculate the amount of Stone needed. Since it had to restore her magic, the extract needed to be potent. I already had most of the materials. All I needed now was a sample of the girl's blood, which I would collect tomorrow morning.

 

Finishing my calculations, I meditated, diving back into analyzing the books. The process was going faster now, which filled me with joy and confidence about tomorrow. I received expected calls from Maggie and Tamara, and after speaking with both, I scheduled a meeting with them a few days after the fortress inspection with the goblin.

 

I could have scheduled it sooner, but I needed to carefully observe Hermione to ensure the Panacea worked as it should. She might experience magical surges at first, but I believe she'll quickly learn to control them. She's not stupid.

 

The next morning was overcast. Dark storm clouds loomed in the distance, suggesting a potential downpour later in the day. Grabbing a few additional tools, I Apparated to the Grangers'.

 

I was greeted by slightly tired faces. I assumed they had spent half the night sitting by their daughter's side. The quiet joy of having her home, even in less-than-perfect condition, was palpable.

 

"Good morning," I greeted Hermione, who was already up and had tidied herself. She was dressed in comfortable home clothes, not pajamas. It seemed both she and her parents had decided to take my visit more seriously.

 

"Good morning," she replied, giving me a shy smile.

 

"How are you feeling, Hermione?" I asked.

 

"Much better," she said. "I finally got a good night's sleep... A soft bed…"

 

"Heh," I chuckled. "Do you know why I'm here today?"

 

"Mom and Dad told me," Hermione said. "But I don't know how you'll be able to help me... I've already heard from the nurses what's happening to me and what my future holds. They said there's no treatment for it."

 

"Who cares what they said," I scoffed. "This is magic, and there's nothing it can't do. You just have to find the right solution."

 

"Hermione told me everything," her mother said. "Can you really help her?"

 

"Yes," I nodded.

 

"We trust you," Mr. Granger said.

 

"I'll need to conduct a small examination and take a bit of blood," I said. No one seemed fazed by this since blood tests are one of the most basic diagnostic methods in the Muggle world. In the magical world, blood is a valuable ingredient for blood magic and various dark arts.

 

"Do you need help?" her mother asked.

 

"No," I shook my head. "Although... I'll need a room where I can do this."

 

"Will my office work?" Mr. Granger immediately offered.

 

"I think it will," I nodded.

 

Mr. Granger's office wasn't very large, but it had enough space for two people.

 

"I'll probably need about twenty minutes," I told them.

 

"Alright."

 

They left Hermione and me alone. Stepping aside, I waved my hand and quickly rearranged the chairs and tables. Hermione watched this with wide eyes.

 

"Have a seat," I nodded to her.

 

"Okay," she replied, sitting down in one of the chairs.

 

"First, I'll take a little blood," I told her. "I hope you're not afraid of the sight of blood."

 

"No, I'm not," she replied, rolling up her sleeve. "Do you need blood from a vein?"

 

"No, a finger will do."

 

She extended her hand. A quick numbing spell, a flick of my wrist, and her skin parted, allowing me to use another spell to draw the blood from the wound. I collected it in a small container. Once I had enough, I healed the cut with magic.

 

"That's it."

 

"Amazing," Hermione whispered.

 

"Indeed," I smirked. A few spells preserved the blood as fresh as possible. "Next, I need to assess a few more things. Okay?"

 

"Yes, I'm ready," Hermione nodded, with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

 

Taking out my wand, I began casting diagnostic spells on her, looking for anything that might help me create a better potion specifically for her. The first thing I discovered was a massive hole in her natural mental defenses. A hole the size of a ferry tunnel. It looked like it had been ripped open, tearing part of her defenses away with it. If the Panacea doesn't fix that, I'll have to help her build artificial defenses through Occlumency.

 

The Healers at St. Mungo's had done everything they could to ensure her body was healthy. Since I couldn't do anything more in the physical realm, I concluded the examination.

 

"That's all," I nodded.

 

"How did it go?" Hermione asked.

 

"We've got work to do," I told her.

 

"Alright, I trust you."

 

Leaving the office, we were immediately met by her parents. Their questioning looks were unmistakable, eager to know what would happen next.

 

"I've done everything I needed," I said. "Now it's up to me. We'll meet again in five days."

 

"Do we need to prepare anything?" Hermione's mother asked.

 

"Yes," I nodded. "Prepare rags for washing the body and a lot of high-calorie, fried food. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot."

 

"How much exactly?" Mr. Granger asked, surprised.

 

I did a quick calculation in my head and gave him a number:

 

"Five kilograms," I said. "Make five kilograms of well-cooked steaks. And lots of water."

 

"That much?" he asked, wide-eyed.

 

"Yes."

 

"Alright," he sighed.

 

"Thank you so much," Hermione's mother said gratefully.

 

Returning home, I began preparing the extract. I enchanted my room to function as a temporary laboratory or potions workshop. But this was just a temporary solution. A proper lab, made from proper materials, would be much better.

 

The process of making the extract was relatively simple but time-consuming. The extract needed to steep properly to reach its full potential. Using a small grater, I shaved off a bit of the Philosopher's Stone and began mixing it, turning it into a blood-red paste. The Stone quickly transformed into the paste, and then I added the blood.

 

As soon as the blood touched the Philosopher's Stone paste, it sizzled slightly. I immediately started mixing it in a mortar, preventing it from hardening. Next came a bit of water, in which mint roots had been soaked, followed by some wormwood flowers. A thin thread was suspended over the mortar. Almost immediately, tiny crystals began to form on the thread. When the mass turned completely white, I would know that no more crystals could form.

 

Once the mixture was ready, I placed it in a specially enchanted box, removed the spells from the room, and opened the windows to let fresh air flow in.

 

"Yo! What's up?" the air exclaimed.

 

"Tsk," I rolled my eyes and dispersed the residual magical energy concentrated in the room.

 

"Noooooo," the air whined as it dissipated, returning to its normal state.

 

After taking a walk around the neighborhood, I returned to my room and immersed myself in book analysis once again. This had become a routine—one that I couldn't abandon, as I felt my skills improving every day.

 

The next day, I had a meeting with a goblin at Gringotts. He was dressed in full ceremonial attire and seemed very animated, as if something good had recently happened to him. I wondered what, but asking such things of goblins is considered an insult. I would have liked to know why he was in such a good mood.

 

To transport us to the desired location, we used one of the Portkeys provided by the bank. The Portkey was shaped like a dagger, and after we used it, the goblin quickly sheathed it. I also noticed several other enchantments on it.

 

When we arrived at a large, empty plot of land, the goblin pulled out another artifact that resembled a key. After some measuring and checking his watch, he inserted the key into thin air and twisted it with effort. Cracks spread across the space in front of us, crumbling into white dust that dissolved before reaching the ground.

 

Before us lay the ruins of an old English fortress. Knowing a bit about the country's history, I could tell the fortress was built during the medieval era. Thick stone walls surrounded it, showing signs of magical wear and tear. Moss and lichens covered the walls, shimmering faintly with an otherworldly magical glow. But since the fortress had been neglected for so long, some of the stones had begun to peel away.

 

"This is Stonehammer Fortress," the goblin said, gesturing with his hand. "Do you have a broom?"

 

"Yes," I replied, pulling out my broom.

 

The goblin took out an artifact of some sort and slowly levitated. I followed him into the air.

 

From above, we could see the inner courtyard of the fortress, with buildings scattered around. It looked as if something massive had torn through them. Looking closer, I even spotted a few earth salamanders—magical creatures of moderate danger. The air itself was thick with magic, almost ready to give birth to something at any moment.

 

"Well, what do you think?" the goblin asked.

 

"It's impressive," I replied. "The fortress is indeed imposing in size."

 

"And that's not all," the goblin smirked. "The plans we have show there are two underground levels. We have no idea what's down there."

 

We circled the fortress several times. During this time, I allowed myself to study the area and consider how it might benefit me. To be honest, I began to wonder how I would live here alone... No, if I had a family or clan, maintaining such a fortress wouldn't be difficult. But I don't have anything like that.

 

"The fortress looks very interesting," I told him as we landed back on the ground. The goblin was restoring the concealment spells.

 

"It certainly is," he nodded proudly. "What do you think?"

 

"It's not bad," I said with a sigh. "How much would it cost to have the fortress cleared?"

 

"I knew you'd ask that," the goblin said with satisfaction. "It would cost eight thousand Galleons. And of course, you could take out a loan with us, and then the best Curse-Breakers, Magizoologists, and Herbologists would work to quickly bring everything into proper order."

 

"That does sound interesting, of course," I nodded. "But I'm not ready to make a decision yet."

 

"I understand," the goblin nodded. "So when do you think you'll be ready to decide?"

 

"That's a tough question," I said with a small smile. "Eight hundred Galleons is still a lot of money."

 

"Well, we actually have a few other buyers for this fortress," he said, shrugging. "And they're willing to pay a thousand Galleons for it. I'm still willing to offer it to you for eight hundred if you take on some of the bank's additional services."

 

"Oh really?" I feigned surprise. I played along only because the goblin was lying. It was the most crystal-clear lie imaginable. "Well, I'll still think about it. And if you sell it for a thousand, that's great."

 

The goblin pursed his lips slightly but said nothing. It was clear he was eager to offload this fortress onto someone while selling a few extra services. I didn't need any of that. Plus, if no one buys the place, I might be able to negotiate a lower price.

 

Returning to Gringotts was peaceful, though I could sense the goblin's slight dissatisfaction and frustration. As the saying goes, "Not every goblin finds gold."

 

"When would you like to meet again, Mr. Jody?" the goblin asked.

 

"Let's say in two weeks," I nodded, hiding a smirk.

 

The goblin grew a little more annoyed but only nodded, saying nothing further.

 

"Then take care," he said curtly, turning sharply and heading off to his next task.

 

A young goblin standing nearby had watched the whole exchange with wide, interested eyes. Without bothering to look at him, I decided to move on. The weather outside was a bit chilly, but it felt like the heat was coming soon. With a flick of my hand, I altered my outfit to something more comfortable for the day.

 

The meeting with Maggie and Tamara was scheduled for the evening. I dressed up a bit, changing into clothes that fit better and felt more comfortable. I stopped by a shop and bought some expensive wine and champagne, as well as two necklaces—one for each of them.

 

Why? Well, if I want to establish myself in the Muggle world and access the hidden accounts of a drug lord in Switzerland, I need representatives who are almost entirely unconnected to the magical world. Besides, if they're associated with me, I bear some responsibility for them.

 

Their house hadn't changed much since the last time I was there, though it might have looked a bit different. The usual green grass, a few flowerbeds, and two cars. One was Maggie's, and the other was an older model—probably Tamara's.

 

I knocked on the door and waited.

 

After a few moments, the door opened, and there stood Tamara. She froze for a second before rushing to hug me. She had changed a bit over time, becoming more attractive and feminine. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, drawing attention to her large, expressive eyes.

 

"Timothy, I'm so happy to see you! It's been almost a year."

 

"True, Tamara," I nodded.

 

"Hey, Timothy," Maggie greeted me. She had also improved her appearance since the last time. The first thing that stood out was that she had taken up sports. Her figure was more defined—stronger, leaner, and more athletic. Not that her figure was bad before, but now Maggie looked more radiant and confident.

 

"Hello," I nodded, hugging her as well. She was clearly happy to see me, and I could sense the warmth in her response.

 

"Come in, Timothy," Tamara said, leading me inside. "Mom and I have been preparing for your visit."

 

"Oh?" I said, surprised. "Then show me, but before that... I have gifts for you."

 

They accepted the gold necklaces with great appreciation. Maggie gave me a playful look, clearly enjoying the gesture, while Tamara smiled with equal enthusiasm.

 

*** R-18 ***

 

The evening was going really well. The wine and champagne were flowing smoothly. Maggie decided to tidy up, and I went off with Tamara to her room.

 

"So, what have you been up to all year?" she asked as I collapsed onto her bed, relaxing a bit.

 

Tamara sat on the edge of the bed and allowed herself a smile.

 

"By the way, want to watch a movie?" she asked.

 

"Why not," I nodded.

 

She sat beside me, and I wrapped my arm around her. My hands wandered over her body, still over her clothes, feeling out everything she had to offer. There was plenty to appreciate.

 

Knock-knock-knock.

 

A knock at the door interrupted what was becoming a very interesting moment with Tamara. She got up, slightly flustered, and went to answer it. It was Maggie, who had brought wine, a couple of glasses, and a plate of fruit and cheese. Her smile was knowing.

 

Tamara returned with the wine and set the plate down near us. Without much thought, she sat back down beside me. The movie continued. At first, I was mildly interested in what it was about, but soon enough, my hands wandered again, and before long, I caught her lips with mine.

 

She was excited beyond anything, and so was I. No foreplay was needed. Taking off the top of her dress, I froze, examining her beautiful breasts. They were large and perfectly shaped. A small light-colored nipple attracted attention by indicating the direction. Ah, she is really horny. 

 

Putting aside the wine and food, I pushed her onto the bed and spread her legs a little. My hands slid to the secret place of any girl. It was pleasant to feel the moisture there. This girl really wants me very much now.

 

Continuing to play with her pussy, I moved on to her breasts. They turned out to be very sensitive, which only played into my hands. It was not that hard to bring her to orgasm. She relaxed a little, and this was just the moment to get rid of her clothes. Having undressed her, and then myself, I continued to play with her body. Oh my… I feel so good right now.

 

"Ah!" Tamara whispered. "I have never felt something like that! Oh my God!"

 

She moved her head and saw my friend, who was ready to go into the battle head first.

 

"What a beauty…" she said weirdly. After that, she raised a bit and then started playing with my dick, stroking and caressing it.

 

I like it… short waves of pleasure were going through my body.

 

"What do you want me to do with it?" the girl asked me while looking with a small spark of lust in her eyes. Seeing and feeling her love was really refreshing and new for me. I've never been in such a situation.

 

"Your tongue? I want you to play with it with your tongue..." was my answer.

 

"Of course,' she nodded and carefully began.

 

She began to lick the head with her soft tongue and slowly began to go down. Having applied herself, she pressed the member to her cheek and, with her eyes closed, inhaled deeply. It seemed that she was enjoying the smell. Of course.

 

Tamara did not need to be asked twice or told anything. She opened her mouth and swallowed my member. Feeling its moisture and pleasant hot temperature was very cool. The play with her tongue was a little clumsy but pleasant. Closing my eyes from pleasure, I began to wait for the wave to come.

 

And it came.

 

"I'm going to cum now," I said, clenching my teeth.

 

The orgasm started somewhere deep inside and then began to rush to freedom with its most powerful flow. The feeling was as if a dam had burst. Having squeezed a little, I began to cum abundantly.

 

Tamara did not let go of the member, allowing her beautiful mouth to be filled with sperm. When the orgasm retreated a little, she released my member and opened her mouth, allowing me to examine the whitish liquid and how she played with it with her tongue. After that, she covered it and swallowed with her eyes closed, enjoying it.

 

"You liked it! Didn't you?" I asked her.

 

Tamara stroked her tummy and smiled with a big smile.

 

"Yes! The taste was magnificent!"

 

"Haha!" I laughed for a second. Very nice.

 

In the next second my little brother was active again, ready to go into the battle and pierce entrenchments and defensive positions.

 

"Oh my! It is ready! I want it in! Please I want to feel it inside! I want to be together with you! Please!" said Tamara with a weird excitement in her tone. Her eyes were a bit hazy with weird emotions going in her head.

 

"You got it…" I said laying near her and showing my dick that was standing tall like a Tower of Piza.

 

Tamara threw her leg over and sat on the cock and began to fiddle with it with her wet pussy. I grabbed her big breast and began to enjoy its elasticity. Then she froze a little and rose. My cock instantly regained its position.

 

Then the girl gently picked it up and began to insert it into herself. Everything happened very slowly, although I wanted just to burst inside, not paying attention to anything.

 

"H-ha-a," a light moan escaped when my cock rested against her virgin hymen. Tamara lingered a little, allowing herself to get used to it. I did not rush her yet, although the desire was off the scale. The girl also closed her eyes, at that moment I touched her pussy and cast a pain-relief spell, and then added a spell to increase arousal. That should help.

 

At that moment Tamara sharply pushed her pelvis down, impaling herself on my cock with her pussy.

 

"Oh-ho-ho," she moaned with pleasure. "Yes, finally... I've been waiting for this for so long."

 

Her pussy squeezed my cock, so hard as if she wanted to crush it. But it was not easy, so she had to take the shape that suited my cock. Then she opened her eyes and allowed herself to smile. I could see immense pleasure in her eyes. Actually, I also felt pretty good from that. A warm feeling around my dick… it was something really good.

 

I inhaled and exhaled, and then rocked my pelvis a little.

 

"I know what you want," she said and also began to move. At first a little hesitantly, but then with increasing speed. "Oh yeah. Do you like it?"

 

"Yes," I drawled, enjoying the incredibly tight, but so hot and slippery pussy.

 

"I'm cumming!" she squealed and clenched all over.

 

Splashes flew from her in all directions. Tamara could no longer hold herself in this position and lay down right on top of me. Only... I was not at all satisfied. Turning her over on her back, I spread her legs a little more roughly, and then entered the full length, not paying attention to the drops of blood that were running down her thighs. The sounds of two bodies colliding could excite even an impotent man. Playing with her beautiful young tits, I picked up more and more speed not caring about a thing.

 

"Ah! Oh!" she moaned loudly.

 

"Yes-yes," I was already moaning, feeling that her pussy was starting to squeeze me hard again. But this time I was ready to join her too. Tamara finished first... again. This made me speed up even more.

 

"A-a-a-ah! Yes-ah! Yes! More!"

 

With each furious push, the tone of her screams grew louder and higher. At one point, I drove my forehead into the deepest places and then began to pour out inside her.

 

"Ha-ha," I exhaled, feeling how the orgasm was starting to fade. This feeling was something that I could not compare with anything.

 

Having pulled out my penis, I began to enjoy the view of how my seed was flowing out of the open pussy. Looking at Tamara, who had just become a woman, with slight displeasure I noticed that she had lost consciousness. Although not... I feel that she did not just lose consciousness. She was knocked out for at least a few hours. It seemed that the arousal spell had worked too hard on her, simply knocking her brain out at the moment of greatest pleasure.

 

The spell for unwanted pregnancy slipped from my hand and sank into the unconscious girl's body. After that, I put her even deeper into sleep, so that she would definitely not wake up for the next ten hours.

 

Getting out of bed, I did not bother to get dressed but headed straight into the hallway. There was something more for me to do. I had one more objective to complete.

 

The light was on in Maggie's room, so I walked in without knocking and got a great view of her lying on the bed and slicking her "friend". As soon as she saw me, a lustful smile appeared on her face. Opening her legs even wider, she made an inviting movement towards her hole.

 

I didn't refuse, and immediately climbed into bed with her, settled down, and entered. Just like that! Without hesitation!


創作者的想法
alchoz alchoz

I hope... this small R18 fragment will be enjoyable =)

章節 43: Chapter 42

The morning greeted me with a pleasant, gentle weakness throughout my body. Waves of satisfaction spread lazily. I looked down to see Maggie, diligently working with her mouth. Squinting with pleasure, I allowed the lingering drowsiness to dissipate, spilling it into her waiting lips.

 

Meanwhile, Tamara had prepared a wonderful breakfast, which the three of us ate with great enthusiasm.

 

"Well then," I began. "I want you two to start a business for personal matters. I'll be your investor. Tamara, Maggie, the rest is up to you."

 

"In what direction should we work?" Maggie asked, clearly excited by my suggestion.

 

"You can decide for yourselves," I nodded. Honestly, I had no desire to dwell on it for long. Why do I even need this? It's simple... it's all about status. Gaining influence over wizards is easy, but preventing non-wizards from being influenced by others is like laying a foundation. It may seem trivial, but as they say, appearances are more valuable than money. Just let me know the initial investment you'll need."

 

"We'll do that," Maggie nodded. "Don't worry, we'll definitely come up with something interesting."

 

"Perfect."

 

Back home, I returned to working on Panacea, which had just reached a critical stage. I prepared a vial with the necessary treatment and locked it in a small, well-protected safe. It was shielded from external influences and designed to prevent any magical emanations from escaping. Naturally, I hadn't told anyone about this—not even the Grangers—but someone could still discover what they needed.

 

In short, serious precautions were taken.

 

Arriving at the Grangers' home, I cloaked myself in spells, carefully watching for any suspicious activity. But there was nothing. Satisfied, I approached and knocked on the door.

 

The door opened almost immediately, and I was invited inside. Hermione's parents looked visibly anxious. It was clear not only from their expressions but also from the tension in their emotions and thoughts. Hermione's condition seemed to have worsened.

 

"How is she?" I asked.

 

"She's gotten worse," Mr. Granger said. "I took her to the hospital, but they couldn't tell us anything..."

 

"They wouldn't have been able to," I said with a shrug.

 

"Are you sure you can help her?" Mrs. Granger asked, her voice filled with concern.

 

"Come," I said.

 

We entered Hermione's room. She looked unwell—pale, with dark circles under her eyes and a slight tremor. When she saw me, a flicker of joy and a hint of pleading crossed her face. Her weakness left her unable to speak, and I had no intention of forcing her to try in such a state.

 

"Have you prepared everything I asked for?" I inquired of the Grangers.

 

"Yes," Mr. Granger nodded.

 

"Good. When I give the signal, start bringing it in."

 

They both nodded, their faith in my abilities palpable. The way it stroked my magical senses was an intriguing feeling—one I would analyze later.

 

"Alright, Hermione," I said, shaking the vial gently. "I'm going to pour this medicine into your mouth now. You need to swallow it and then close your eyes. Changes will begin immediately, and soon after, you'll feel hungry. No matter what happens, don't open your eyes. Do you understand?"

 

She nodded weakly.

 

"Now you," I said, turning to her parents. "Hermione will undergo various changes. If it becomes too much for you, I can put you to sleep. It's better if you leave the room and just bring in the food."

 

"I'll stay here," her mother said firmly.

 

"Alright."

 

I slowly approached Hermione. She shifted slightly on the bed, her eyes fixed expectantly on the vial.

 

"Open your mouth," I instructed.

 

Hermione complied. I opened the vial and carefully poured the liquid into her mouth. She swallowed and closed her eyes. Immediately, the changes began. Her body convulsed, and she vomited. With a flick of my wand, I made the mess vanish instantly.

 

"Bring the food," I told Mr. Granger.

 

He hurried out of the room to follow my instructions as quickly as possible, while Hermione's mother gripped the armrest of her chair, resisting the urge to help her daughter. When the food arrived, I flicked my wand again, slicing it into small, manageable pieces. Hermione, ravenous, grabbed the food with her hands and devoured it. The first plate was emptied quickly, and her father returned with another, continuing the process over and over.

 

Hermione's body was undergoing a complete transformation. Her hair grew uncontrollably, patches of her skin peeled away to reveal fresh layers beneath, and even her teeth were entirely replaced. Watching these changes was fascinating, as some of them held potential for future magical spells and treatments.

 

The restoration of her magical core was the most remarkable aspect of the process. It was something beyond the reach of ordinary magical interventions. I memorized every change, with the hope of replicating the process without the use of Panacea in the future.

 

After two hours, Hermione's transformation was complete. She had consumed all the food prepared, even surpassing the amount I had anticipated. Fortunately, her parents had bought extra meat. Her body was fully restored, and her proportions had subtly shifted.

 

With a wave of my wand, I cut away the old hair and incinerated it, instantly removing any lingering odor. Hermione's mother watched the display wide-eyed, clearly impressed by such a direct use of magic.

 

"She'll need a bath and some rest now," I said. Hermione had fallen asleep, which was unsurprising. From my initial examination, I could tell her natural mental defenses had not only been restored but had grown significantly stronger. Physically, her body was in perfect condition, and her magical core had fully recovered, with a slight boost. She would undoubtedly be able to return to Hogwarts and resume her magical studies.

 

For a more detailed analysis, I'd need time—time I'd have once she woke up.

 

Bidding them farewell, I gave a few instructions and assured them I'd return the next day. I needed to speak with Hermione herself and address any questions she might have. I was certain there would be many.

 

With the rest of the day free, I headed to the Ministry to register Maggie and Tamara as Muggles under my protection. This was a formal procedure that granted me the right to protect non-magical wards by any means necessary. It would also signal to other wizards and magical creatures that these Muggles were under my care and not to be trifled with. My personal status as someone who had already mastered two disciplines would grant Maggie and Tamara significant privileges in the non-magical world. There would be risks, of course, but I doubted many would challenge me over a couple of Muggles.

 

I also needed to declare my acquisition of another mastery. Of course, I could have kept it a secret... but why bother?

 

"Mr. Jody," a familiar voice called. I turned to see Narcissa Malfoy. She still looked stunning, as captivating as ever. "I didn't expect to see you here today."

 

"Lady Malfoy," I nodded, allowing a smile. "You look as lovely as ever."

 

"Thank you, Mr. Jody," she replied. "What brings you to the Ministry today?"

 

"Business, business," I responded. "Muggle matters, and also to declare my second mastery."

 

"A second mastery?" She immediately focused on the important part. The Muggles didn't interest her, but magical status certainly did.

 

"Charms," I nodded, showing her my rings. "I earned it during my travels around the world."

 

Narcissa leaned in slightly to get a better look at the second ring. After inspecting it, she nodded, acknowledging its authenticity.

 

"Have you been to the guild yet?" she asked.

 

"Not yet," I replied. "I'm not in a hurry to join the Guild Council. I haven't even attended a meeting for the Transfiguration Council yet."

 

"Don't worry," she said with a smile. "The Charms Guild will be thrilled to welcome a new member. I'll speak to Lucius about it. By the way, do you have any plans for June 5th?"

 

"I haven't thought about it," I replied.

 

"Well, I'd like to invite you to Draco's thirteenth birthday party," she said. "A formal invitation will follow, of course. What do you say?"

 

"I'd be delighted," I nodded.

 

"Then expect the invitation," she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Oh, I must be going."

 

After saying goodbye to Narcissa, I watched her leave, my gaze lingering on her graceful figure. It seemed she noticed, or perhaps sensed it somehow, because I felt a wave of satisfaction from her emotions. Not bad, not bad at all.

 

Finishing up my business at the Ministry didn't take long. I had to visit two different floors, fill out two separate forms, and that was it. The workers handling the paperwork weren't the most cheerful bunch. It seemed like they wanted to be doing something entirely different rather than shuffling papers. But what can you do when life doesn't offer more exciting opportunities?

 

The next morning, I returned to the Grangers' house, and Hermione looked completely healthy. Her eyes, energy, and thoughts—all her "indicators"—were at their peak. Best of all, she was no longer losing her magic. In fact, she had grown slightly stronger magically, something she could feel herself.

 

When I walked into the house, she rushed toward me, hugging me tightly, exclaiming:

 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

 

When she let go, I could sense a slight excitement radiating from her.

 

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling much better than you were yesterday," I said with a smirk. "Is there something on your mind?"

 

"I want to get back to studying magic," she said, her expression turning wistful. "After everything that happened, I've missed out on so much. Mr. Jody, could you help me with that?"

 

She quickly added, as if trying to justify herself:

 

"I know, after everything you've done for me... this might be asking too much," she said, a bit embarrassed. "But I don't know who else I can turn to."

 

"Alright, Hermione," I nodded. "I'll work with you. By the time you return to Hogwarts next year, you'll be one hundred percent prepared."

 

"Thank you so much," she said, nodding gratefully.

 

Her parents also thanked me from the bottom of their hearts. Their daughter's health had been their primary concern in recent weeks, and seeing the relief on their faces was satisfying. Of course, they weren't wizards and couldn't offer me anything in return, but their heartfelt gratitude was reward enough.

 

I hadn't told anyone what potion I gave Hermione. She wasn't eager to ask, and her parents didn't dare inquire, understanding it couldn't have been something readily available. If it were, Hermione wouldn't have had these health problems in the first place. Being in the medical field themselves, they knew that certain treatments are reserved for a select few, and that's why they didn't pry or show too much curiosity about how I healed their daughter.

 

"Since I'll be tutoring you," I told Hermione, "you'll need to read all the books for second-year students. Once you've studied them, we'll move on to practical lessons."

 

"But I'm not allowed to use magic outside of school," she protested, her question unspoken but clear.

 

"Don't worry about that," I waved a hand dismissively. "I'll take care of it."

 

"Alright," she agreed. "Once I've mastered the theory, I'll contact you, and we can move on to the practical part."

 

"Understood," she nodded. "I'll study everything."

 

"I like your enthusiasm," I chuckled. "Keep it up."

 

When I returned home, I found a large owl from Hogwarts. Honestly, I hadn't expected it so soon, as I hadn't made any official announcements about my return. It must have been triggered when I registered at the Ministry.

 

The letter was from Headmaster Dumbledore, expressing his delight that I had returned to England and inviting me to meet him at a small tavern in Hogsmeade. I planned to accept the invitation, so I quickly penned a reply, stating that I was happy to be back and would gladly meet him on the proposed date in a week. It worked out well for me, as it gave me time to handle other matters.

 

Since word would soon spread that I had returned, I needed to send out some letters. First, I wrote to Nymphadora, inviting her to meet, and also to Isolde and Brock, who were part of my closest circle. Additionally, I prepared gifts for those I wouldn't be seeing in the near future.

 

Writing letters, preparing gifts, and sending them all out took the entire day, but by the end, I felt very satisfied. One more letter was sent to a goblin, expressing my interest in viewing the Stormhammer fortress again.

 

I had time to think things over. Honestly, I wouldn't mind acquiring such a place for myself. If I could negotiate a deal with the goblin, it would be great. If not, no loss.

 

The responses didn't take long. Surprisingly, the first to reply was the goblin, which indicated he was eager to sell the fortress. If he weren't, he wouldn't have responded so quickly.

 

The meeting was scheduled for the next day. I wasn't sure what had changed for him, but it was unusual for a goblin to rush negotiations involving something as valuable as a fortress. That raised some concerns. What could have happened at the bank to make him want to sell it so quickly?

 

When we met, the goblin was visibly nervous, and not doing a good job of hiding it. He was accompanied by two other goblins. One was older, dressed in a finely tailored black suit. Gold rings with intricate designs adorned his fingers, and his glasses had gold frames. If I wasn't mistaken, the lenses weren't made of glass but some sort of magical artifact. He was likely from the upper ranks of Gringotts. The second goblin was much larger, clad in metal armor. He held a pike in one hand, while the other rested on his belt, as if ready to throw something. On his back was a double-sided axe imbued with magic, which glimmered in the sunlight.

 

"Good day," I greeted them.

 

"And to you, Mr. Timothy Jody," the goblin in the suit replied. "My name is Straightgrip, and I will be working with you today."

 

"What about…"

 

"Don't worry about that," the goblin interrupted. "It's internal Gringotts business."

 

"Alright," I nodded, not particularly interested in delving into their affairs. Why would I? Exactly—no reason.

 

"Shall we proceed then?" Straightgrip said.

 

At that moment, the armored goblin struck the ground with the base of his pike, and we were all enveloped in space. The transportation was unusually smooth, unlike any method I had experienced before. But… it took longer. I carefully observed the shifting configurations of space, making mental notes. If this enhanced my understanding of spatial magic, all the better.

 

After about a minute, we arrived at the fortress. I assume the longer travel time was a drawback of this method, but then again, if there's no rush, why not use it?

 

"Well," Straightgrip began. "Stormhammer Fortress. As I understand, you're already familiar with it?"

 

"Of course," I nodded. "I inspected it last time."

 

"Were you informed that the fortress has numerous issues that need resolving?" the goblin asked.

 

"I'm aware of that as well," I nodded again.

 

"Excellent," the goblin said. "But now, the last thing I'd like to inform you about is the price."

 

"Has it changed?" I asked.

 

"Yes," Straightgrip sighed, casting an angry glance at the goblin I had previously worked with. "The price of the fortress is eighty thousand Galleons."

 

"And what does that include?" I asked, fully aware that I didn't have that kind of money.

 

"Not only the fortress itself, but also the land, artifacts, plants, potion labs, greenhouses, and many other things," Straightgrip explained.

 

"Then why was I given a different price?" I decided to ask.

 

"The goblin made a mistake," Straightgrip admitted. "But don't worry, the bank will handle the matter."

 

"I see," I nodded, mentally noting the coordinates for future Apparition. If I don't acquire this fortress, I can at least access the knowledge stored within its informational field. I'm running low on books to analyze. "As much as I'd like to, I can't afford that."

 

"I understand," the goblin nodded. "And I'd like to offer you an official apology on behalf of the bank, as well as compensation."

 

The armored goblin stepped forward, pulling out a small box and handing it to me. With a wave of my hand, I summoned it to myself, earning a few extra points of respect. This was exactly why I had worked to master wandless magic.

 

"And one more thing," the goblin quickly added after my little demonstration. A small golden card appeared in his hand. "Here are my contacts. If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. I'll assist in any way I can."

 

"Thank you," I nodded, accepting the card. "I'll keep that in mind."

 

"Do you have any other questions?" Straightgrip asked.

 

"Not at the moment," I shook my head.

 

"Then we'll take our leave," Straightgrip sighed. "Business doesn't wait. All the best."

 

"To you as well."

 

The guard struck the ground with his pike, and they vanished into space. Observing the transportation from the outside gave me a few ideas on how to create something similar myself. After looking around one last time, I approached the fortress and sat down. Assured that no one was around, I slipped into meditation and immediately began searching for the books I was interested in.

 

What can I say... the informational field here was rich with knowledge that fascinated me. Books containing potion recipes, some lost or semi-secret, filled the archive. There were wizards' research journals—those who had once called this fortress home. Some of the topics were already familiar to me and no longer considered cutting-edge. After all, magical science continues to evolve if left untouched. What particularly intrigued me were various practices and spells of dark magic I hadn't encountered before.

 

It would take several months of non-stop work to download all the knowledge from the local informational field. But that would undoubtedly draw the goblins' attention. They'd wonder what I was up to. So, I needed to be selective, focusing only on what was most important and leaving the rest for later. With that decision made, I began downloading a book with fascinating body enhancement recipes, along with another detailing a list of spells.

 

Once the downloads were complete, I stood up and Apparated home, immediately diving into the analysis of the newly acquired books. Since I had only downloaded two, the analysis didn't take long.

 

A knock at the window interrupted me, and I saw an owl with a letter in its beak. It was from Nymphadora, confirming her acceptance of my invitation to meet and expressing her excitement about my return to the country. Her letter radiated enthusiasm, clearly showing how eager she was to catch up. In my reply, I set a date and place for our meeting. Not wanting to delay it too long, I scheduled it for the next day.

 

For the meeting, I chose a nice restaurant in Diagon Alley. I dressed appropriately and arrived a little early to wait for Nymphadora. She arrived on time, but I didn't recognize her at first. The first thing that caught my eye was her hair—an unpleasant, bright purple. Her proportions had also shifted slightly, making her look less appealing. Then I noticed her clothes, completely unsuited for the setting. The Nymphadora I had known at Hogwarts had been far more attractive than this current version.

 

"Hi, Nymphadora," I waved at her.

 

"Timothy!" she exclaimed joyfully. "I'm so happy to see you."

 

She rushed over to hug me, and I caught the faint smell of stale sweat. What had happened to her in the meantime? Could Auror training have affected her so much? After she let go, and without showing any emotion on my face, I was about to help her to her seat, but she pulled out the chair and plopped down on her own. To be honest, it was somewhat unexpected.

 

"I'm glad to see you too," I nodded, sitting down across from her. "So, tell me… how are things going for you?"

 

"Everything's great," she said. "I'm almost done with my training, and soon I'll be an intern for the next two years."

 

"Oh," I nodded. "Congratulations. You must have really improved in combat magic and learned a lot."

 

"That's right," she nodded proudly. "I have the best results, and that's why the legendary Auror Alastor Moody took an interest in me."

 

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "I thought he had already retired."

 

"This is his last year on the job," she replied, then raised her hand and snapped her fingers. "Waiter!"

 

Her gesture attracted the attention of other patrons, causing me to blush slightly. Such behavior was far from appealing. In fact, it was far from polite, as it disturbed the other diners and reflected poorly on us.

 

"Yes," a short man with a small notepad approached. "Would you like to order something? Or perhaps a menu?"

 

"I'll take two pints of beer, some fries, and lamb chops. Make sure the fat drips from the chops," Nymphadora said loudly. The disapproving glances from other patrons only increased, and I could hardly blame them.

 

"Alright," the waiter nodded, though I sensed he had little desire to remain at our table. "And what can I get for you, sir?"

 

"What would you recommend?" I asked calmly, ignoring Nymphadora's eye-rolling.

 

"I'd suggest the pasta with lobster," the waiter offered. "And for drinks, we have wine from the magical gardens of Meridia in Spain."

 

"That sounds interesting," I nodded. "I'll have that, please."

 

"Of course, sir," the waiter said, quickly leaving.

 

"You've changed a lot since we last talked through the Two-Way Mirror," I remarked to Nymphadora.

 

"This suits me better," she said, throwing her arm over the back of her chair.

 

"Hmm," I muttered.

 

"Do you like my new style?" she asked.

 

"No," I replied calmly.

 

There was a brief silence after that. When the food arrived, she ate hers, and I quietly enjoyed mine.

 

"I thought you'd like it," she said, her tone tinged with hurt.

 

"No," I shook my head.

 

"Well, you know what!" she exclaimed, jumping up from her chair, emitting waves of anger, frustration, and a hint of shame. "I'm leaving. Enjoy yourself."

 

Nymphadora turned and walked away, moving slowly as if she expected me to follow. Her thoughts revealed a hope—almost a fantasy—that I'd get up and go after her. But... why would I? For what reason?

 

So, I just continued eating. After paying for both our meals, I headed home.

 

Maybe I shouldn't have been so blunt with her. But no, I was honest. I didn't toy with her emotions or make false promises. It's just a shame I didn't get to give her the gift I had prepared.

 

Then the doorbell rang. Since my parents weren't home, and I couldn't see who it was from the window, I went downstairs and opened the door. Standing there was Nymphadora, but in a completely different form. Her height, face, hair—everything had changed. Yet, it all seemed familiar. This was the Nymphadora I had known from Hogwarts.

 

"Hello, Nymphadora," I greeted her. "I like you much better like this. Come on in."

 

She stepped into the hallway and kicked off her shoes.

 

"Yes, Timothy," she sighed. "I'm sorry I acted the way I did during our date. It wasn't right of me."

 

"Everyone has moments like that," I shrugged, closing the door. "The important thing is finding the right path afterward. I'm glad you've found yours."

 

The conversation over coffee was much more pleasant than I had anticipated. Nymphadora eagerly shared stories about her life and training. From what she told me, I could understand why she had adopted such a drastic new image. She didn't like the unwanted attention from other trainees or older instructors. The latter had offered to make her life easier at the training academy—if she agreed to certain... extracurricular activities. To avoid such harassment, Nymphadora had decided to change her appearance. A simple defense mechanism.

 

My story was much longer and, arguably, more interesting because so much had happened during my travels around the world. I didn't share everything with her, but I couldn't resist boasting about my second mastery and my ability to perform wandless magic.

 

The latter surprised her the most, and I noticed her gaze shift slightly. For a moment, I peeked into her mind and immediately realized that she wasn't planning on letting me go. To her, I wasn't just someone she cared about—though I hadn't fully realized that either—but also a prize she wanted to win. Moreover, she silently berated herself for showing up to our first meeting in such a state.

 

It was fascinating to see how much she had changed mentally. Back when we were at Hogwarts, she didn't have such thoughts. Digging a little deeper, I realized this was the result of her experiences during Auror training. Trainees were sent to dangerous, criminal places where all sorts of things happened, and her rose-colored glasses had been shattered.

 

The magical world isn't a sacred place. Yes, there are laws and rules, but if a wizard or magical creature is stronger than those who uphold the law... the outcome quickly becomes apparent.

 

***

 

Nymphadora returned from her date feeling relieved. Sure, not everything had gone smoothly, but what an idiot she had been to go to the restaurant with Timothy dressed like that!

 

"How did your evening go?" Andromeda asked.

 

"You were right, Mom," Nymphadora replied. "Timothy didn't like seeing me the way I went."

 

"I told you," her mother said with a chuckle. "But I can see that everything went well… right?"

 

"Yeah," Nymphadora nodded, satisfied. "He forgave me for my first outburst and even gave me a gift."

 

"That's good," Andromeda nodded.

 

Andromeda only wanted the best for her daughter. If that meant giving advice on how to win over a man—so she wouldn't have to spend her life in the Auror's office, facing dangerous spells—she'd gladly offer it.

 

Nymphadora dashed up to her room and immediately went to one of her hiding spots to pull out her divination tools. Sure, tonight wasn't the best for obtaining clear answers, but she hoped to see something…

 

She drew a few circles on the table, filling them with special runes, then lit some candles and began whispering incantations. Her wand was a great help here. She placed a small napkin—one that had "mysteriously" ended up in her possession—into the circle. Above the napkin, she began swirling beads that gleamed with a mystical, magical light.

 

In an instant, the napkin ignited with a gray flame, emitting smoke that was drawn into the beads.

 

"Ooooo-maaaa-maaa-uuu!" Nymphadora chanted, then threw the beads into the circle. They spun and twirled before stopping abruptly, glowing with strange symbols. Nymphadora opened her eyes and carefully studied each symbol and its position.

 

The divination ritual she used concerned her own future. It was the simplest form of divination because predicting for someone else required a much greater talent for the craft.

 

The result of the ritual concerned her. It didn't provide a clear answer to her question. Though she knew not to expect precise answers, the ambiguity still troubled her. But that wasn't even the biggest issue...

 

The symbols on the beads clearly indicated that if she wanted a normal, comfortable, and prosperous life, she absolutely needed to stay close to Timothy. Beyond that, things became murky. For instance, the presence of other female figures in his life and the reversed symbol of death were strange and difficult to interpret.

 

She could guess the meaning behind the other female figures—it meant she wouldn't be the only one in his life. That wasn't too big a problem for her. Polygamy wasn't practiced in England, but it wasn't something that would be looked down upon either.

 

So, the possibility of other women didn't bother her too much. Even without the divination, it was clear that someone like Timothy Jody wouldn't be satisfied with just one woman. The rest of the symbols, however, she couldn't interpret clearly. But even so... she was pleased.


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