章節 24: A Grand Prank
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Chapter 25 (First Year Ends), Chapter 26 (Magic & Politics), Chapter 27 (Letters, Contracts, and Other Complications), Chapter 28 (When Loves Makes Home), Chapter 29 (A Nundu in France), Chapter 30 (The Minister's Request), Chapter 31 (Abyssantica), Chapter 32 (The Half-Human Princess), Chapter 33 (Echoes from the Deep), Chapter 34 (Crystal's Song of Ice), Chapter 35 (Song of Ice and Water), and Chapter 36 (The Wardstone's Song) are already available for Patrons.
Harry was pushing his eggs around his plate, his breakfast hardly touched, when the great wooden doors of the Main Hall creaked open. Beside him, Itisa let out an uncharacteristically cheerful meow that made him look up.
Sebastian was walking in with Anna, but this wasn't the weak, shuffling walk they'd grown used to seeing. Anna was moving with almost her old energy, her face bright and animated as she chatted with her brother.
The reaction at the Slytherin table was immediate. Several heads turned, and the usual mask of indifference slipped from more than a few faces.
"Anna!" Tracy Davis was the first to break protocol, jumping up to hug her. "You're actually walking!"
"And not just walking," Anna grinned, doing a little twirl that would have been impossible just yesterday. "I feel amazing!"
Pansy Parkinson's jaw actually dropped. "How in Merlin's name...?"
Even Daphne Greengrass was staring, her usual ice-queen demeanor cracking as she watched Anna slide onto the bench without assistance. Her eyes darted between Anna, Harry, and Itisa with an intensity that made Harry slightly uncomfortable.
"Did St. Mungo's finally figure it out?" Millicent Bulstrode asked, leaning forward eagerly.
Anna shook her head, beaming. "It was Harry and Itisa!"
The silence that followed was deafening. Every head within earshot turned to stare at Harry, who suddenly found his eggs fascinating again. Itisa, completely unbothered by the attention, began grooming her paw with regal indifference.
"Potter?" Pansy's voice was caught between skepticism and curiosity. "How did you—"
"I believe," Lendyell's prefect voice cut through the growing murmurs, "that Mr. Potter's medical achievements are his own business. Unless you'd all like to share your family's healing secrets over breakfast?"
The hint of steel in his voice had its intended effect. Most students returned to their meals, though Harry could still feel their sideways glances.
"But seriously," Pansy whispered, leaning closer once Lendyell had turned away, "what kind of creature is she? I've never seen a cat with healing abilities."
"She's just special," Harry said with a shrug, scratching behind Itisa's ears. Through their bond, he felt her amusement at his deliberate understatement.
"Special?" Blaise Zabini scoffed. "Potter, normal cats don't heal dark magic. What is she really?"
"If you must know," Harry said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness, "she's actually a pygmy puff in disguise. Very rare condition. Tragic, really."
Sebastian nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, while Anna giggled behind her hand.
"You're impossible," Pansy huffed, but there was less venom in her voice than usual.
"I try," Harry grinned, then turned to Anna. "How are you feeling, really?"
"Like I could fly without a broom," Anna beamed. "The darkness is still there, but it's... quieter? Like it's been muffled somehow."
"The dark veins are almost gone," Sebastian added, his voice carefully neutral, though Harry could hear the underlying tension. "Madam Pomfrey says she's never seen anything like it."
"Fascinating," Daphne spoke for the first time, her voice soft but carrying. "And you say it was your cat, Potter?"
There was something in her tone that made Harry look up. She was watching him with those sharp blue eyes of hers, and for a moment, he wondered if she'd somehow figured it out. She'd always been too clever by half.
"Itisa has many talents," Harry said carefully. "Most of them involve stealing my breakfast sausages."
As if on cue, Itisa snatched a sausage from his plate, causing several people to laugh. The tension broke, but Daphne's gaze didn't waver.
"I didn't know you were interested in healing magic, Greengrass," Harry said, turning the tables.
"I'm interested in many things, Potter," she replied coolly. "Particularly things that shouldn't be possible."
"Nothing's impossible," Anna chimed in cheerfully. "That's what Mister Scamander always says in his books. Right, Harry?"
"Speaking of impossible things," Blaise cut in, "is it true you're going with Scamander this summer? Adrian swears he heard McGonagall talking about it."
"Oh yes," Harry drawled, "we're going on a grand adventure to discover if garden gnomes can tap dance. Very serious research."
"You're awful," Pansy declared, but she was fighting a smile.
"Yet here you are, talking to me," Harry pointed out. "I must be growing on you, Parkinson. Like a fungus."
"More like a disease," she retorted, but there was no real malice in it.
Through all this, Harry noticed Sebastian watching him with an unreadable expression. When their eyes met, Sebastian gave him a slight nod – part gratitude, part something else Harry couldn't quite identify.
"Will you be joining us in Herbology today?" Tracy asked Anna hopefully.
"Professor Garlick already gave me permission," Anna nodded. "Though she said I have to take it easy with the more aggressive plants."
"As if anyone's going to let you near the Venomous Tentacula anyway," Sebastian said firmly.
"I don't know," Harry mused. "Might be an improvement over your last attempt at pruning it. At least Anna wouldn't try to reason with it first."
"That was one time!" Sebastian protested. "And I maintain that plant understood exactly what I was saying. It just chose violence anyway."
"Yes, because that's so much better," Daphne commented dryly.
The conversation drifted into safer waters, but Harry remained aware of the undercurrents. Daphne's calculating looks, Sebastian's quiet watchfulness, and the way other students kept glancing at Itisa with new interest.
Through their bond, he felt Itisa's mild concern. She understood that they were walking a fine line – helping Anna while keeping their secret safe. One wrong move, one slip of the tongue, and things could get very complicated very quickly.
"You know," Daphne said quietly as the others became engaged in a debate about the ethics of reasoning with violent plants, "there's an interesting chapter in 'Magical Mysteries of the Mediterranean' about healing creatures. Perhaps we could discuss it sometime, Potter?"
Her tone was casual, but her eyes were anything but. Harry met her gaze steadily.
"Always happy to chat about books, Greengrass," he replied with equal casualness. "Though I find some mysteries are better left mysterious."
She smiled slightly. "We'll see about that."
As the breakfast hour drew to a close, Harry watched Anna laughing with her friends, looking more alive than she had in months. Worth it, he thought, even with the risks. Through their bond, Itisa sent warm agreement, though tinged with caution.
They'd have to be careful, but for now, seeing Anna's smile and Sebastian's relief was enough. The rest they'd deal with as it came.
"Come on," Harry said, standing up. "We've got Herbology, and I, for one, can't wait to see if Sebastian tries to negotiate with any more homicidal plants."
"That was ONE TIME!"
⚯ ͛
In Herbology, Professor Miradel Garlick commanded attention not just with her striking appearance - her long red hair neatly braided and her emerald robes perfectly pressed - but with her passionate expertise. The Slytherins and Ravenclaws were working with Whispering Willowblooms, and Harry found himself paired with Daphne Greengrass. Professor Garlick kept a careful eye on Anna, who was eagerly back at work despite her brother's hovering. When Harry's Willowbloom produced particularly melodious notes under his care, Professor Garlick awarded Slytherin five points. Harry noticed Daphne watching him with renewed interest during this exchange, though she quickly looked away when he caught her eye. The lesson was productive, despite Theo Nott's plant throwing what could only be described as a musical tantrum.
History of Magic was its usual test of endurance, with Professor Binns monotonously reciting dates from the Goblin Rebellions. The Slytherins had developed a system - they rotated note-taking duty, with today's responsibility falling to Tracy Davis, while the others could doze or study quietly. Harry used the time to review his Defense Against the Dark Arts texts, occasionally glancing at Itisa, who had claimed her favorite sunny windowsill. The lesson's only disruption came when Goyle's snoring grew loud enough to make Pansy Parkinson hex him awake, earning amused smirks from their housemates while Binns continued his lecture, completely oblivious to the exchange.
⚯ ͛
Harry sat against an old oak tree near the Black Lake, his favorite quiet spot where few students ventured. Tonks lounged beside him, her hair cycling through various shades of purple as she practiced her metamorphmagus abilities.
"So," Tonks drawled, her hair settling on a deep violet, "heard you're playing healer now. With a certain dangerous kitty's help."
Harry absently scratched Itisa behind the ears as she dozed in his lap. "News travels fast."
"Especially when it involves a mysteriously cured pure-blood witch." Tonks grinned mischievously. "First Greengrass gives you those long looks, now Anna Sallow. Quite the collection of admirers you're building, Potter."
Harry felt his cheeks warm but kept his voice steady. "No need to be jealous, Tonks. You know you'll always be my first girlfriend."
"Oh?" Tonks's eyebrows shot up as her hair turned a vibrant pink. "And when exactly did we start dating? Must have missed that memo."
"Well, you are an older woman. I understand if your memory isn't what it used to be."
Tonks snorted, morphing her face to look ancient. "Respect your elders, young man."
"I would, but I can't find any respectable ones," Harry shot back with a grin.
"Cheeky little snake," Tonks laughed, returning to her normal appearance. "But seriously, Harry..." Her expression sobered. "Helping Anna was kind, but it's going to draw attention. The wrong kind of attention."
Harry's smile faded. "Because of what happened with Quirrell?"
"That, and..." Tonks hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "A lot of pure-blood families, especially those who were... sympathetic to You-Know-Who's cause, they tend to have members afflicted with strange illnesses. Dark magic leaves traces, and sometimes those traces get passed down."
Harry felt Itisa stir in his lap, sensing his unease. "Are you saying Sebastian and Anna's family supported Voldemort?"
Tonks winced at the name but continued, "The Sallows... it's complicated. Their parents died two years after You-Know-Who's fall. Nobody knows exactly what happened to them. Just... disappeared one day."
"That's convenient," Harry muttered, his mind racing. "Does Sebastian know?"
"I don't know what he knows Harry." Tonks picked at the grass beside her. "They were raised by their grandmother until she passed last year. Now it's just the two of them, with their uncle as legal guardian. He's some Ministry official in the Department of International Magical Cooperation."
"And Anna's illness?"
"Started showing up about four years ago." Tonks's hair had shifted to a somber blue. "That's why Sebastian's so protective of her. She's all he's got left."
Harry thought about Sebastian's desperation to find a cure, the way he'd looked at Harry that morning – grateful but with something else in his eyes. "He'd do anything to save her, wouldn't he?"
"Wouldn't you? For someone you loved?"
Harry absently stroked Itisa's fur, remembering how she'd fought Voldemort to protect him. "Yeah, I would."
"Just... be careful, Harry." Tonks's voice was unusually serious. "People are going to start asking questions about how you managed to help Anna when St. Mungo's best healers couldn't. And some of those people might not take 'none of your business' for an answer."
"Like Daphne Greengrass?"
"Among others." Tonks smirked. "Though I think she's more interested in you than your healing methods."
"She is not," Harry protested, feeling his face heat up again.
"Oh? Is that why she keeps staring at you in the Great Hall? For academic purposes?"
"She's probably plotting my murder. It's a Slytherin hobby."
"Ah yes, murder plots. The foundation of all great romances."
"Speaking from experience?" Harry countered. "How many murder plots did it take before Charlie Weasley noticed you?"
Tonks's hair shifted from its usual bubblegum pink to a frustrated dark blue. "For the last time, I don't fancy Charlie Weasley!"
"But he fancies you," Harry said with a knowing smirk. "Everyone can see it."
"I know he does," Tonks sighed, her hair dulling to a muted gray. "But I don't feel the same way. He's nice and all, but..."
"But?" Harry prompted, genuinely curious now.
"But he's just a friend. It's actually kind of awkward sometimes," Tonks admitted, slumping against the tree. "I wish he'd just... move on, you know?"
Harry tilted his head, studying his friend's unusually serious expression. "So who do you fancy then?"
Tonks's hair cycled through several colors rapidly before settling on a defensive purple. "None of your business, you nosy little snake."
"Come on," Harry wheedled. "I won't tell anyone. Itisa can be our witness to secrecy."
Itisa made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort.
"Not happening, Potter," Tonks said firmly, though her hair betrayed her by turning slightly pink at the tips. "And if you keep pushing, I'll tell everyone about that time you accidentally turned your eyebrows gold trying to match Itisa's eyes."
"That's fighting dirty," Harry protested. "I like it. You sure you're not meant to be in Slytherin?"
"Shut it, you," Tonks laughed, her hair returning to its usual bright pink. "Now come on, I promised to help you practice those shield charms."
"Fine, keep your secrets," Harry grinned. "But I'll figure it out eventually."
"In your dreams, Potter. In your dreams." She launched a hex towards him, but he quickly used a shield charm.
"When did you get so good at Shield Charms?" Tonks demanded.
"Around the time I realized I was friends with a trigger-happy metamorphmagus."
"Survival instinct, then?"
"More like self-preservation. Though..." Harry's voice turned serious. "After Quirrell, I've been practicing more defensive spells."
Tonks's playful demeanor vanished. "Harry... what really happened that day? The official story is that Quirrell had some sort of magical accident, but..."
"But nobody believes that," Harry finished. He glanced around, making sure they were truly alone. "He had Voldemort stuck to the back of his head. Like some kind of parasite."
"Merlin's balls," Tonks whispered, her hair turning white with shock. "You actually fought You-Know-Who?"
"More like survived him. If it wasn't for Itisa..." He scratched the Nundu's ears gratefully. "She bit him. Poisoned his magic somehow. But he still got away, sort of... flew off like black smoke."
"That's why Dumbledore's been watching you so closely." Tonks's expression was troubled. "And why Moody visited my parents, asking questions about your cat."
Harry tensed. "What kind of questions?"
"Nothing specific. Just... interested. You know how he is. Suspicious of everything."
"Great. Just what we need – Mad-Eye Moody's attention."
"Could be worse," Tonks offered. "Could be Snape's attention."
"Too late for that. He's been glaring at me more than usual lately. Probably upset that a Slytherin's hanging out with a Hufflepuff."
"Nah, that's just his face. Permanent glare charm gone wrong, I reckon."
Harry snorted. "That would explain a lot."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the giant squid lazily wave its tentacles above the lake's surface.
"Harry?" Tonks's voice was quiet. "Promise me you'll be careful. Between You-Know-Who, the Sallow situation, and whatever's going on with Greengrass... you're juggling a lot of dangerous secrets."
"I'm always careful."
"Says the boy who decided to keep a N-" She caught herself. "A very special pet."
"She kept me, actually." Harry smiled down at Itisa. "Best decision she ever made, right girl?"
Itisa purred in agreement, rubbing her head against his hand.
"You two are ridiculous," Tonks said fondly. "But seriously, if you need help – with anything – you'll tell me, right?"
"Course I will. Who else is going to teach me how to properly stalk Charlie Weasley?"
"That's it!" Tonks launched herself at him, hair blazing red. "You're dead, Potter!"
Harry scrambled to his feet, laughing as he dodged her attacks. Itisa watched their mock battle with regal amusement, occasionally batting at their robes as they danced around the tree.
Finally, both collapsed back onto the grass, breathless from laughter.
"You know," Tonks said, still panting slightly, "most first years would be terrified after facing You-Know-Who. But here you are, making jokes and helping sick classmates."
"What's the alternative? Hide under my bed?"
"Most people would say that's the sensible thing to do."
"Well," Harry grinned, "when have I ever been sensible?"
"Fair point." Tonks propped herself up on an elbow. "Just... promise me one more thing?"
"Depends. Does it involve staying out of trouble?"
"As if that's possible." She rolled her eyes. "No, just... don't try to handle everything alone. You've got friends – me, Hermione, the Sallows, Susan, Cedric to a degree, Neville. Even Ice Queen Greengrass, though she'd probably rather eat bubotuber pus than admit it."
"Speaking of Greengrass..." Harry hesitated. "She keeps hinting that she knows something. About Itisa."
"Has she said anything directly?"
"No, but she's too smart not to have noticed something's off. Especially after Anna's recovery."
"Want me to have a word with her?" Tonks's hair took on a threatening red tinge.
"And confirm her suspicions? Besides," Harry smirked, "according to you, she's just trying to get my attention."
"Well, there are easier ways," Tonks mused. "She could just pull your pigtails like a normal person."
"I don't have pigtails."
"We could fix that." Tonks's eyes gleamed mischievously.
"Don't you dare."
"Come on, you'd look adorable!"
"I will set Itisa on you."
"No, you won't. She likes me too much."
As if to prove her point, Itisa padded over and bumped her head against Tonks's hand.
"Traitor," Harry muttered.
"Face it, Potter. You're outnumbered."
"Story of my life." But he was smiling as he said it.
The bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of their free period.
"Back to reality," Tonks sighed, standing and brushing grass from her robes. "Try not to cure any more mysterious illnesses before dinner, yeah?"
"No promises. You know me – I live for drama."
"That's what worries me." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "See you later, trouble-maker. Bye, Itisa."
As they watched Tonks head back to the castle, her hair cycling through rainbow colors, Harry couldn't help but feel grateful for her friendship. She might tease him mercilessly, but she was also one of the few people who truly understood the weight of the secrets he carried.
"Come on, girl," he said to Itisa. "We've got Potions next. Try not to eat Snape's ingredients this time."
Itisa's innocent look fooled exactly no one.
⚯ ͛
Harry paced before the blank wall on the seventh floor, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Three times he walked, focusing his thoughts: 'I need a place to practice voice magic... I need to understand more about my abilities...'
The ornate door materialized, but when Harry stepped through, he found himself in an unexpected scene. The room before him was vast and decaying, with cobwebbed chandeliers hanging precariously from a deteriorating ceiling. Faded portraits lined the walls, their occupants long since abandoned their frames. Dusty furniture lay scattered about, covered in moldering sheets.
"This isn't what I asked for," Harry muttered, running his hand along a tarnished silver mirror. Itisa, perched on his shoulder, let out a low growl.
"You're right, girl. Let's try something more familiar." Harry closed his eyes, picturing his room at the Tonks' house - warm, comfortable, safe. The room shimmered and transformed, becoming the cozy space he'd come to call home.
Settling cross-legged on the familiar bed, Harry pulled out his notebook. "Alright, let's think about this logically. Loretta said my voice carries more magical energy than most wizards..."
He began jotting down what he knew: Voice magic was integral to spellcasting. His own voice magic was exceptionally powerful. He could communicate with certain magical creatures, though frustratingly not yet with Itisa.
"But what if..." Harry sat up straighter, an idea forming. "What if I'm thinking about this all wrong? Everyone uses their voice to direct magic outward, through wands. But what if..."
He stood, walking to the center of the room. "Room, I need a glass of water." A small table appeared with a crystal glass.
"Itisa, you might want to cover your ears," Harry warned, though he wasn't sure Nundus could do that. He took a deep breath, focusing on the water in the glass.
Instead of pushing his magic out through his wand, he let it resonate in his throat, building like a musical note. When he spoke, it wasn't a spell or even a word - it was a pure tone, carrying magic in its vibration.
The water in the glass began to tremble, then rise, forming shapes in the air. Harry modulated his tone, watching as the water responded, dancing and swirling to the magical frequency of his voice.
"Brilliant," he whispered, breaking the connection and letting the water splash back into the glass. "It's not about words at all - it's about resonance!"
He quickly wrote in his notebook: 'Voice magic = magical frequency. Different tones = different effects. No wand needed!'
"Let's try something else." Harry cleared his throat and produced a different tone, higher this time, infusing it with a different kind of magical intent. The air around him began to shimmer, and suddenly he could see magical currents flowing through the room like colorful streams of wind.
"Merlin's beard," he breathed, watching the magic swirl around Itisa in particularly dense patterns. "I can see magic itself!"
But that wasn't the most exciting part. As he sustained the tone, he noticed he could feel the magical frequencies around him, like different musical notes. Each object, each spell, each magical creature had its own unique resonance.
"That's it!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes wide with realization. "That's why I can't talk to you yet, Itisa. I've been trying to speak your language, but I should be trying to match your magical frequency!"
He focused on the complex patterns swirling around his companion, attempting to reproduce them with his voice. The first few attempts produced nothing, but on the fourth try, he managed to create a tone that harmonized with Itisa's magical signature.
The Nundu's eyes widened, and she let out a surprised chirp that carried the same magical frequency.
"Did you feel that?" Harry asked excitedly. "We almost had it! We just need to practice matching our frequencies perfectly."
He spent the next hour experimenting, discovering he could use different tones to achieve various effects: one frequency could make objects lighter than air, another could create barriers of pure magic, and yet another could detect hidden enchantments.
"This changes everything," Harry muttered, scribbling frantically in his notebook. "Traditional spells use words to focus magical intent, but with the right frequency..." He paused, considering the implications. "I could theoretically reproduce any spell effect just by matching its magical resonance with my voice."
He looked at Itisa, who was watching him with what seemed like pride.
⚯ ͛
Tomorrow
"Right then, let's be methodical about this," Harry muttered, pulling out his notebook. He'd convinced Daphne to lend him her crystal vials in exchange for future Potions help - a bargain he hoped would pay off. Itisa watched lazily from her perch atop a conjured cushion as he arranged his test materials.
"Water first - that seemed easiest last time." Harry set a vial of water before him. Taking a deep breath, he produced a clear tone, attempting to match the frequency he'd discovered yesterday. The water trembled but didn't rise.
"Hmm, too low maybe?" He adjusted his pitch higher, and this time the water shot straight up, splashing across his face. Itisa made a sound suspiciously like a snicker.
"Yes, very funny," Harry wiped his face with his sleeve. "Let's try that again."
After several more attempts - and several more impromptu showers - Harry finally found the right resonance. The water rose smoothly from the vial, forming a glistening sphere in the air. Maintaining the tone, he tried to shape it into more complex forms. His first attempt at a cube resulted in the water splashing back into the vial.
"This is harder than it looks," he grumbled. "The frequency has to change as the shape changes..."
An hour later, Harry had mastered basic geometric shapes and was working on more complex patterns. He discovered that by adding harmonics to his base tone, he could create multiple effects simultaneously. The water could spin while changing shapes, or split into smaller droplets that danced in formation.
"Brilliant! Now, let's try something more challenging." Harry placed a silver Sickle on the table. "Metal should be interesting."
His first attempt produced nothing but a slight wobble. His second caused the coin to spin violently off the table, narrowly missing Itisa, who gave him an indignant look.
"Sorry! Sorry!" Harry retrieved the coin. "The resonance is different... stronger."
He spent the next forty-five minutes trying different tones until he found one that made the Sickle vibrate harmoniously. When he added a second, lower frequency, the silver began to soften.
"Fascinating," he whispered, watching the coin become malleable like clay. However, when he tried to shape it, his concentration slipped, and the metal instantly rehardened in a rather unfortunate twisted shape.
"Well, that's one Sickle I won't be spending," he sighed, setting it aside. "Let's try wood."
Harry pulled out a spare wand handle he'd gotten from Ollivander's shop. This proved even more challenging - the wood seemed resistant to most frequencies he tried. After twenty frustrating minutes, he finally produced a tone that made the grain patterns glow faintly.
"There's still magic in it," he realized. "But it's dormant..."
Experimenting with different harmonics, Harry found he could make the latent magical properties more apparent. The wood's natural affinity for certain types of spells became visible as colored patterns within the grain.
"This could be incredibly useful for wandmaking," he mused, making notes. "Though I doubt Ollivander would appreciate me revealing his trade secrets."
Glass was next, and Harry was particularly excited about this after his success with the crystallization effect earlier. He set up several of Daphne's vials and began testing frequencies.
The first attempt shattered two vials, making him grateful for the Room of Requirement's soundproofing. The second caused them to melt into puddles. The third did nothing at all.
"Come on," Harry muttered. "There's a sweet spot here somewhere..."
Finally, he found a tone that made the glass resonate without breaking. Adding a second harmonic caused crystalline patterns to form across the surface. A third made the glass flexible like rubber.
"Now that's proper magic," he grinned, bending a vial into a pretzel shape before releasing the frequency. The glass snapped back to its original form, perfectly intact.
Stone proved to be the most difficult material yet. Harry had conjured several different types to test with, but even his strongest resonances barely affected them.
"Maybe I'm thinking about this wrong," he mused after another failed attempt. "It's not about force..."
He closed his eyes, feeling for the natural frequency of the stones themselves. The tone he produced this time was so deep he felt it more than heard it. Slowly, a granite block began to soften like butter.
"Brilliant! Though I'm not sure when I'd need to melt stone..." He made more notes. "Moving on to air - this should be interesting."
Air manipulation proved both easier and harder than expected. Creating visible patterns was simple enough, but controlling them was another matter entirely. His first attempt at condensing air resulted in a minor windstorm that scattered his notes across the room.
"Right, more finesse needed," Harry muttered, gathering his papers. He tried again, this time with a gentler resonance. The air currents became visible as shimmering streams, and he found he could direct them with subtle changes in his tone.
"Now, let's try combining effects..." Harry produced multiple tones simultaneously, attempting to manipulate different materials at once. The result was chaos - water spraying everywhere, glass vibrating dangerously, and air currents throwing everything into disarray.
"Definitely need more practice with that," he said, cleaning up the mess with a quick spell. "But the potential..."
Harry turned his attention to magical objects next. He'd brought several small enchanted items from his trunk to experiment with. A self-inking quill, a remembrall, and a puzzle box that changed its solution every time you opened it.
Finding the magical frequencies in these objects was easier than with raw materials, but interpreting them proved challenging. Each enchantment had its own complex harmonic pattern.
"It's like trying to listen to three different songs at once," Harry complained after his fifth attempt to unravel the puzzle box's enchantment gave him a headache. "There are too many layers."
But persistence paid off. After another hour of practice, he could identify distinct magical signatures and even temporarily enhance or dampen them. The self-inking quill's enchantment glowed brighter under certain frequencies, while others made it act like a normal quill.
"This is brilliant," Harry said, reviewing his notes. "But also a bit terrifying. I mean, the applications are endless. Imagine being able to enhance or dampen any enchantment just by finding its frequency. Or being able to manipulate materials without spells. Or communicating with magical creatures directly through their own magical language..."
He looked at his watch and was shocked to see how much time had passed. "We should probably head back. But first..."
Harry stood in the center of the room and attempted to combine several effects he'd mastered individually. This time, he managed to create a controlled display - water droplets dancing through magically visible air currents, while crystal patterns formed in the air around them, all contained within a sphere of condensed magic.
"Now that's more like it," he grinned, releasing the magic. "Though I suspect Hermione would remind me that showing off isn't the point of practicing."
As they left the Room of Requirement, Harry's mind was already racing with new ideas to try next time. He had a feeling he'd barely scratched the surface of what voice magic could do, and he couldn't wait to explore further.
"Don't suppose you'd be willing to help me practice more tomorrow?" he asked Itisa. The Nundu's responding chirp carried a frequency that Harry was beginning to recognize as affirmative, though he noticed it also contained harmonics he couldn't quite interpret yet.
"One step at a time," he reminded himself. "Rome wasn't built in a day, and magical communication apparently isn't mastered in one either."
Still, as they made their way back to the Slytherin common room, Harry couldn't help but feel satisfied with their progress. He'd failed more times than he'd succeeded today, but each failure had taught him something valuable about how voice magic worked.
And if the way Itisa was proudly walking beside him was any indication, she approved of his efforts to understand her magical language, even if he wasn't quite fluent yet.
⚯ ͛
Harry was making his way back to the Slytherin Common room when he heard him, or well, them.
"Psst! Potter!"
"Over here, young snake!"
Harry turned to find Fred and George Weasley emerging from behind a tapestry, wearing identical mischievous grins.
"Evening, trouble and more trouble," Harry smirked. "How's the family?"
"Oh, positively peachy!" Fred (or possibly George) beamed.
"Mum's still talking about your Christmas card," George (or possibly Fred) added.
"'Such a polite young man,'" they mimicked in unison, clutching their hearts dramatically.
"Ron's still convinced you're plotting something nefarious, though," Fred chuckled.
"Being in Slytherin and all," George explained.
"I barely know him," Harry shrugged.
"Speaking of nefarious plotting..." Fred began.
"We have a proposition!" George finished.
"A Grand Prank, if you will."
"Capital G, capital P."
Harry glanced at Itisa, who very deliberately shook her head.
"I'm listening," Harry grinned, ignoring his familiar's exasperated expression.
"You see, dear Potter..."
"We've developed a rather ingenious charm..."
"Temporary fabric transmutation..."
"With a dash of chaos theory...but since you were the first to do it."
"We need your help to complete this charm."
Itisa gave Harry a look that clearly said, 'I can't believe you're enabling these lunatics.'
"Count me in," Harry said, earning an even more judgmental stare from his Nundu.
⚯ ͛
The next morning, the Great Hall was unusually empty during breakfast. The staff table was full, but student attendance was suspiciously sparse.
"Mirabel," Professor McGonagall frowned, "where are your Hufflepuffs?"
"They should have been here by now," Professor Garlick replied, the young Professor looking concerned. "They're usually so punctual."
"My Ravenclaws are missing as well," squeaked Professor Flitwick.
Snape's lips curled into a familiar scowl. "Potter," he muttered darkly.
"Really, Severus," McGonagall began, "you can't possibly blame every-"
She was cut off by a wave of screaming students bursting through the Great Hall's doors. The scene before them was absolute chaos.
Draco Malfoy stormed in wearing bright red Gryffindor robes, his face almost matching the Gryffindor tie around his neck. Behind him, Hermione Granger was drowning in Slytherin green, while Neville Longbottom sported Ravenclaw blue.
"My robes!" Pansy Parkinson wailed, tugging at her red and gold attire. "I look like a filthy Gryffindor!"
"At least you're not wearing Hufflepuff yellow," Blaise Zabini muttered, adjusting his black and yellow tie with distaste.
McGonagall stood up, taking in the sight of complete chaos as students rushed about, some laughing, others horrified at their new colors. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted three particular students trying to slip unnoticed into the hall - two redheads and one dark-haired boy, all wearing different colors. She remembered the one time months ago when Harry had managed to change the colors of his robes by using runes, and since the Weasley Twins were standing nearby, she knew who was responsible for this mess.
"Professor Snape's robes are changing too," Flitwick pointed out with a smile of amusement, and Minerva could swear she could see smoke coming out of Snape's ears when she saw what kind of color his robes had right now.
The breakfast that would later be known as "The Great Robe Swap" had begun, and somewhere in the chaos, a certain disguised Nundu was giving her human companion the most exasperated look a cat could manage.
⚯ ͛
Harry leaned against the wall, trying and failing to suppress his laughter as chaos erupted in the Great Hall. Itisa sat beside him, giving him her patented 'I told you so' look.
"Oh, come on," Harry whispered to her. "You have to admit, this is brilliant."
Fred and George materialized beside him, both wearing Ravenclaw robes. "Masterpiece, isn't it?" Fred grinned.
"Though I must say," George added, "your suggestion about the timing-delayed charm was inspired."
"POTTER!" Snape's voice cut through the pandemonium. He was storming toward them, his usually black robes now sporting Gryffindor colors.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked innocently. "Love the new look, by the way. Really brings out your eyes."
Snape's eye twitched. "Twenty points from-" he stopped, realizing he couldn't actually tell which house Harry was supposedly in, as his robes were now Hufflepuff yellow, and he was in Slytherin, so that meant he couldn't get points from his house.
"From...?" Harry prompted helpfully.
"Actually, Severus," Professor Garlick approached, trying to hide her amusement, "I believe Mr. Potter is currently in my house, at least according to his robes."
"Those robes are not his actual-" Snape began.
"But how can we be sure?" Harry interrupted. "I mean, what if the spell revealed our true inner house alignments? Maybe you've always been a Gryffindor at heart, Professor."
Snape looked like he might spontaneously combust.
Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was having an existential crisis at the Slytherin table, wearing bright Gryffindor robes. "This is a nightmare. Wait until my father hears about this!"
"Draco," Harry called out, "red really is your color. Brings out the perpetual blush of indignation you've got going on."
The twins snickered as Hermione walked past in Slytherin green, nose buried in a book. "Trying to figure out the counter-charm, Hermione?"
She looked up. "Actually, this is fascinating magic. The way you've linked the color-changing charm with a randomization algorithm and tied it to the castle's own magical signature... it's quite brilliant."
"Only you would analyze the educational value of a prank, Hermione," Harry grinned.
"How do you even know we did this?" Fredy or George asked innocently.
"Because Harry was the one who managed to change the colors of his robes four months ago, and today, he entered in the Main Hall in your company." Hermione said with a smile.
"Pure coincidence, Granger," Fred said brightly.
"Statistical anomaly," George added.
"Million-to-one chance," Harry contributed.
Professor McGonagall approached their group, her usual emerald robes now sporting Ravenclaw colors. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley. I assume you have an explanation for this?"
"Would you believe we're promoting inter-house unity?" Harry suggested brightly.
"Yeah," Fred added, "can't have house prejudices if you can't tell which house anyone's in!"
"Genius, really," George nodded sagely.
McGonagall's lips twitched suspiciously. "And how long will this... promotion of unity last?"
"About twenty-four hours," Harry admitted. "Unless someone tries to reverse it, then it lasts forty-eight hours and adds glitter."
"You added a anti-tampering clause?" Hermione looked impressed despite herself.
"Of course," Harry shrugged. "Always read the fine print."
Sebastian Sallow walked up, wearing Ravenclaw robes. "Potter, Anna says this is the best thing she's seen all year. She hasn't stopped laughing since breakfast started."
"Then it was worth it," Harry grinned. "How's she feeling today?"
"Better," Sebastian smiled. "She wants to talk with you later. She has questions about that magical creatures book you lent her."
Itisa made a sound that somehow managed to convey both affection and exasperation.
"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore's voice carried across the hall. He was approaching in bright yellow Hufflepuff robes, his eyes twinkling madly. "I must say, this is quite innovative charm work."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Harry beamed. "Yellow suits you, actually. Though I notice your beard remained unchanged."
"Ah yes," Dumbledore stroked his silver beard thoughtfully. "It seems to have developed a certain resistance to pranks over the years. Most mysterious."
"I'll have to work on that," Harry mused.
"Don't you dare," McGonagall warned.
"Now, while I appreciate the technical skill involved," Dumbledore continued, "and the admirable goal of house unity, I believe some point deduction is in order."
"Of course, sir," Harry nodded seriously. "Though you might want to wait until tomorrow to decide which house to take them from."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even more. "A fair point. In the meantime, perhaps you could assist Professor Flitwick in analyzing the charm work? For academic purposes, of course."
"Of course," Harry agreed solemnly, while Itisa made a sound suspiciously like a snort.
Just then, Daphne Greengrass walked past in Gryffindor robes, looking murderous. "Potter, when this wears off, we're going to have words."
"Looking forward to it," Harry called after her. "Red really brings out your threatening aura!"
"You're going to regret this," she promised.
"Probably," Harry agreed cheerfully. "But right now, I'm enjoying the view."
The twins high-fived him as Daphne stormed off.
"Mr. Potter," Professor Garlick approached, her usually green dress now sporting Ravenclaw colors. "While I appreciate the creativity, perhaps next time you could avoid including the faculty's wardrobes?"
"But Professor," Harry protested, "you look lovely in blue! Though green is definitely your color."
She tried to look stern but couldn't quite manage it. "Flattery will not save you from detention, Mr. Potter."
"Worth a try though," he grinned. "And technically, according to my current robes, you're my Head of House, so..."
"Nice try," she laughed. "But I believe Professor Snape still has that honor, regardless of temporary color changes."
"Shame," Harry sighed dramatically. "Your detentions probably involve less pickling of suspicious substances."
As the chaos continued around them, Itisa gave Harry another look.
"Yes, yes, you were right," he conceded quietly. "But admit it - this is much more fun than a quiet breakfast."
The Nundu's response was to flick her tail and walk away with what could only be described as feline disdain.
"Drama queen," Harry muttered affectionately, then turned back to the twins. "So, about that other idea we discussed..."
"No," chorused every teacher within earshot.
"I hadn't even finished the sentence!" Harry protested.
"We know you too well by now, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said dryly.
As Harry opened his mouth to argue, Sebastian cut in, "Quit while you're ahead, mate. You've already got at least three detentions lined up."
"Four," Snape corrected darkly.
"Worth it," Harry declared, watching as more confused students entered the Hall, each sporting randomly changed house colors. "Completely worth it."
If you want to Read 12 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'Drinor Patreon' in Google and Click the First Link
章節 25: First Year Ends
Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of A Nundu for A Pet.
If you want to Read 12 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'Drinor Patreon' in Google and Click the First LINK
Chapter 26 (Magic & Politics), Chapter 27 (Letters, Contracts, and Other Complications), Chapter 28 (When Loves Makes Home), Chapter 29 (A Nundu in France), Chapter 30 (The Minister's Request), Chapter 31 (Abyssantica), Chapter 32 (The Half-Human Princess), Chapter 33 (Echoes from the Deep), Chapter 34 (Crystal's Song of Ice), Chapter 35 (Song of Ice and Water), Chapter 36 (The Wardstone's Song), and Chapter 37 (The Boy Who Saved) are already available for Patrons.
"I still say it was worth it," Harry declared, scrubbing a particularly stubborn stain off the basement floor while Itisa watched from a relatively clean corner, her tail twitching in annoyance.
"Absolutely worth it," Fred agreed from where he was wrestling with what appeared to be centuries-old potion residue.
"Though I must say," George added, "Snape's really outdoing himself with the creative punishments."
"Indeed," Snape's silky voice came from behind them, causing all three boys to jump. "And since you seem to have enough energy for conversation, perhaps I should add another evening to your detention schedule?"
Harry bit back a retort, mainly because Itisa had already risen to her feet, her eyes fixed on Snape with dangerous intensity.
"No need, Professor," Harry said quickly, both for Snape's sake and to keep Itisa calm. "We're making excellent progress on these... fascinating stains."
"Fascinating is one word for it," Fred muttered, examining what looked suspiciously like crystallized dragon mucus.
"Your father would have given up by now, Potter," Snape commented coldly. "He never did have the patience for actual work."
Harry felt Itisa's anger spike and quickly spoke before she could do anything rash. "Really? Because I heard he was quite brilliant at Transfiguration. That takes patience, doesn't it?"
Snape's eyes narrowed. "Five points from Sly--You will extra detention for your cheek, Potter."
"Worth it," Harry whispered once Snape had swept away, his robes still showing traces of Gryffindor red from their prank.
"You know," George said thoughtfully, "I've been meaning to ask - what's the deal with your cat? Sometimes she looks at Snape like she's considering whether he'd make a good scratch post."
Harry glanced at Itisa, who was now pretending to be deeply interested in cleaning her paws. "She's... protective."
"Protective is an understatement," Fred observed. "Remember when Malfoy tried to hex Harry last week? That cat appeared out of nowhere and somehow Malfoy tripped over his own feet."
"Pure coincidence," Harry said innocently, while Itisa made a sound suspiciously like a snicker.
The next day found them in Professor Flitwick's detention, which was considerably more pleasant. The Charms professor had them organizing his collection of enchanted objects, occasionally stopping to demonstrate particularly interesting ones.
"Now, the charm work you three managed with those robes was quite impressive," Flitwick admitted, levitating a stack of books. "Particularly the anti-tampering clause. That was your idea, wasn't it, Mr. Potter?"
"Guilty," Harry grinned, carefully placing a singing teacup on a shelf.
"The way you linked it to increase duration if someone tried to reverse it was particularly clever," Flitwick continued. "Though perhaps next time, leave the faculty robes alone?"
"But sir," George protested, "the sight of Snape in Gryffindor colors was a public service!"
"We were spreading joy," Fred added solemnly.
"And inter-house unity," Harry contributed.
"Indeed," Flitwick chuckled. "Though I suspect Professor Snape didn't quite see it that way."
"Professor," Harry said suddenly, "I've been meaning to ask - how did you manage to combine the Levitation Charm with a permanent Stability Charm on these shelves? I've been trying to figure it out."
Flitwick's eyes lit up with enthusiasm, and for the next hour, their detention turned into an impromptu advanced Charms lesson. Itisa dozed peacefully in a patch of sunlight, occasionally opening one eye to check on them.
Professor Garlick's detention was even more enjoyable. She had them helping her reorganize her greenhouse, which mostly involved carefully handling various magical plants while she told stories about her own school days.
"You know," she said, carefully pruning a Whispering Willow, "when I was a student here, I once turned all the suits of armor into chorus singers for a day."
"No way," Fred gasped.
"Professor Garlick, you rebel," George grinned.
"Please tell me they sang something inappropriate," Harry begged.
"Let's just say Professor McGonagall wasn't impressed with their rendition of 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love,'" she winked.
"That's brilliant," Harry declared. "How did you manage the synchronized choreography?"
"Now, Mr. Potter, I couldn't possibly encourage more mischief," she said, though her eyes twinkled. "Though if one were to attempt such a thing, the key would be in the timing charm..."
Itisa, who was lounging near a patch of catnip (which seemed to affect her just like regular cats), gave Harry a look that clearly said, 'Don't even think about it.'
"This Bouncing Bulb reminds me," Professor Garlick continued, "how is Anna doing, Mr. Potter? Sebastian mentioned you've been lending her books about magical creatures."
"She's doing much better now," Harry said more seriously. "But she really enjoyed the book about Moon Dragons that Ne- that I lent her."
Professor Garlick nodded sympathetically. "That girl has such a bright mind. It's a shame she can't attend classes regularly. Though I hear she particularly enjoyed hearing about your... different encounter with Professor Quirrell."
Harry tensed slightly, but kept his voice casual. "Oh? What version is going around now?"
"The current favorite involves you defeating him in a dramatic duel involving a hundred snakes and possibly a dragon," Fred supplied helpfully.
"Don't forget the part where Harry supposedly turned him into a toad," George added.
"If only it had been that exciting," Harry said lightly, though Itisa had moved closer to him, sensing his discomfort.
⚯ ͛
Professor McGonagall's detention was, as expected, far more stern. She had them transfiguring various mismatched objects back to their original forms - apparently, the aftermath of failed student attempts throughout the term.
"Really, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, watching him restore what appeared to be half-teacup, half-hedgehog back to its proper porcelain state. "I expected better judgment from you. Your father, at least, kept his pranks within his own house."
"Actually, Professor," Harry couldn't help saying, "from what I've heard, my father pranked pretty much everyone."
McGonagall's lips thinned. "That's not something to aspire to, Mr. Potter."
"Of course not, Professor," Fred said solemnly.
"We aspire to much greater heights," George added.
"Boys," McGonagall warned, though Harry could have sworn he saw the ghost of a smile.
"You have to admit, Professor," Harry ventured, expertly transforming a chair that occasionally barked back to normal, "the spell work was pretty impressive."
"Yeah, Harry here figured out how to make the color changes randomize every hour," Fred boasted.
"And how to make them resist counter-spells," George added proudly.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? And where exactly did you learn such advanced transfiguration, Mr. Potter?"
Harry shrugged, trying to look innocent while Itisa watched the exchange with apparent amusement. "Just... reading ahead?"
"Hmm," McGonagall studied him. "Your father was also talented at transfiguration. Though he typically used his skills for more... dramatic displays."
"Like what?" Harry asked eagerly.
"I am not about to give you ideas," McGonagall said firmly, but her expression softened slightly. "Though I will say your mother would have appreciated the technical skill, if not the application."
"Did my mum ever pull any pranks?" Harry asked, genuinely curious now. He remembered the professor telling him about the one time his mother probably made a teacher smell like shit for a whole week.
McGonagall's eyes took on a distant look. "Lily was more subtle in her mischief. She once enchanted all the textbooks in the library to whisper helpful hints - but only to students who were genuinely struggling and trying their best."
Harry felt a warm glow in his chest. Itisa moved closer, rubbing against his legs comfortingly.
"That's brilliant," he said softly.
"Yes, well," McGonagall cleared her throat, "perhaps next time you could channel your abilities into something more constructive?"
"Like turning all the armor into a choir?" Fred suggested innocently.
McGonagall's head snapped up. "Who told you about- never mind. Back to work, all of you."
As they continued working, Harry noticed McGonagall watching him with an odd expression - something between exasperation and fondness.
"Professor," Harry said as they were finishing up, "hypothetically speaking, if someone wanted to transfigure multiple objects simultaneously while maintaining independent color variations..."
"Hypothetically," McGonagall interrupted dryly, "such a person would need to understand the principles of linked transformation matrices and color-shift harmonics. Which are covered in sixth-year studies."
"Hypothetically," Harry grinned.
"Get out, all of you," McGonagall ordered, but Harry caught her small smile as they left.
"She likes you," Fred observed as they headed back to their common rooms.
"Nah, she likes Itisa," Harry corrected. "Who doesn't?"
⚯ ͛
Harry sat cross-legged on his bed in the Slytherin dormitory, carefully examining his talisman under the soft glow of a Lumos charm. Itisa lounged nearby, occasionally offering what seemed like judgmental looks at his work.
"I know, I know," Harry muttered to her. "The copper isn't ideal. But you try finding enchantment-grade silver in a school full of teenagers."
"Talking to your cat again, Potter?" Daphne Greengrass's cool voice came from the common room entrance. She had an irritating habit of appearing when he was deep in concentration.
"She gives excellent feedback," Harry replied without looking up. "Very constructive criticism. Unlike some people."
Daphne moved closer, her interest clearly piqued despite her attempted indifference. "Your rune work is sloppy. The protection matrix is barely holding together."
"Thank you for proving my point about constructive criticism," Harry said dryly. "And I'd like to see you do better with Nordic runes on copper."
"Obviously, you should be using silver," Daphne said, now openly studying his work. "And those protective runes would be much more stable in Greek."
"Well, if you happen to have some spare enchantment-grade silver lying around..." Harry trailed off suggestively.
Daphne was quiet for a moment. "I might know where to get some."
Harry finally looked up. "Really? And what would this hypothetical silver cost me?"
"You will help me on Runes. Rune Arcs are very different form normal Runes, and I need help with them." Daphne said with a strange look. Harry was sure there was more to that, but he needed that silver.
"Done," Harry agreed quickly. Perhaps too quickly, given Daphne's suspicious look.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. Though I should warn you, Itisa will be supervising. She's very particular about proper technique."
The Nundu in question gave Daphne what could only be described as a calculating look.
"Your cat... will be supervising," Daphne repeated flatly.
"She's very qualified," Harry said solemnly. "Graduated top of her class in cat school."
"Sometimes I wonder if you were dropped on your head as a child, Potter."
"Multiple times. It's part of my charm. Now, about that silver..."
"Fine. Meet me in the empty classroom on the third floor tomorrow after dinner. And bring your notes on Egyptian protection runes."
"I don't have any notes on Egyptian runes," Harry admitted.
Daphne sighed dramatically. "Of course you don't. I'll bring mine. Try not to blow yourself up before then."
After she left, Harry turned to Itisa. "See? I can play nice with others."
Itisa made a sound that clearly conveyed her skepticism.
⚯ ͛
The next evening, Harry found himself in the empty classroom with Daphne, several books on rune crafting spread between them, and a small ingot of silver that looked suspiciously expensive.
"So," Daphne said, all business, "show me how to carve a Greek rune."
"Watch carefully," Harry said, taking out a small piece of wood and a carving tool. "The most basic rune is Ansuz - it represents communication and signals. Perfect for beginners."
He placed the wood between them on the desk and held up the carving tool. "First rule - always carve away from yourself. You don't want to slip and stab your hand."
With precise movements, he demonstrated drawing two angled lines that formed something like a capital F, but with the horizontal lines slanting downward: ᚨ
"See how the lines are clean and connected? That's crucial. A broken line means broken magic. It's like... imagine trying to pour water through a pipe with holes - the magic leaks out instead of flowing properly."
He handed Daphne the tool. "Magic flows through runes like water through channels. The shape guides the magic, tells it what to do. Ansuz tells magic 'carry a message' or 'make a signal.' Even a simple light spell needs the right pathway."
"That's it?!"
"Don't sound so shocked. Now, about these Egyptian runes..."
⚯ ͛
Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of the abandoned classroom he'd claimed as his workshop, various tools and reference books scattered around him in what he insisted was an "organized chaos." Itisa watched from her perch on a nearby desk, occasionally making disapproving sounds when he made particularly questionable decisions.
"The theory is sound," Harry muttered, carefully etching an Egyptian protection rune into the silver disk. "If I just align the power flow with the natural magical conductivity of the—"
BANG!
A small explosion sent Harry flying backwards, his face covered in silver soot. Itisa gave him a look that clearly said, "I told you so."
"Okay," Harry coughed, waving away the smoke. "Maybe the power flow wasn't quite aligned."
"You're lucky you didn't blow your fingers off," came Daphne's voice from the doorway. She'd taken to checking on his progress, claiming it was purely to protect her investment in the silver.
"I had it under control," Harry protested, trying to wipe the soot from his glasses.
"Clearly," Daphne said dryly. "Is that why your eyebrows are smoking?"
Harry quickly patted his eyebrows. "Just adding some dramatic flair to my appearance."
⚯ ͛
Over the next few weeks, Harry continued his experiments, with varying degrees of success (and explosions). The classroom walls now bore several scorch marks, which he'd tried to pass off as "decorative elements" when Professor Flitwick had walked past one day.
One particularly frustrating afternoon, after his fifteenth failed attempt at incorporating an Egyptian protection matrix, Harry threw down his carving tools in frustration.
"This isn't working," he declared to Itisa, who was cleaning her paws with exaggerated casualness. "Maybe I should try something simpler."
He pulled out his book on Mortex Runes, which were less powerful but more straightforward in their application. "See? These actually make sense. Look at the power flow diagrams—they're practically connect-the-dots compared to the Egyptian ones."
Itisa gave him a look that suggested she was reserving judgment.
Harry began carefully carving the basic Mortex protection rune into a fresh piece of silver. As he completed the final line, something strange happened. The air in the room suddenly grew cold, and the talisman emitted a low, haunting hum that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Itisa was instantly alert, her eyes fixed on the talisman with intense interest.
"That's... different," Harry said slowly, studying the rune. The silver seemed to pulse with a faint inner light, and he could feel a subtle vibration in his fingers where they touched the metal.
Then it hit him.
"Of course!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet so suddenly that Itisa had to dodge to avoid being stepped on. "It's not about the complexity of the runes—it's about the resonance!"
He quickly pulled out his notes on voice magic, spreading them beside his rune diagrams. "The Mortex runes responded to the natural frequency of the silver, but Egyptian runes need a specific magical frequency to activate properly."
Itisa tilted her head, clearly intrigued.
"Watch this," Harry said excitedly. He picked up his carving tools again, but this time, before he began carving, he started humming softly. It wasn't quite like his usual voice magic—this was deeper, more primal, a sound that seemed to resonate with the silver itself.
As he carved, maintaining the humming, the Egyptian runes began to flow more naturally. Instead of fighting against the metal, they seemed to merge with it, each line glowing briefly before settling into a subtle shimmer.
"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall's voice cut through his concentration, making him jump. "What exactly are you doing?"
Harry looked up to find not only McGonagall but also Professors Flitwick in the doorway, all wearing expressions of varying concern and curiosity.
"Er," Harry said eloquently, suddenly very aware of how this might look—him sitting in a scorched classroom, covered in silver dust, humming to a piece of metal while his cat watched approvingly. "Extra credit project?"
"Using advanced runic magic without supervision?"
"Actually," Flitwick piped up, moving closer to examine the talisman, "this is rather impressive work. It's a very advanced technique, typically only used by master craftsmen. Where did you learn it?"
"I... didn't?" Harry admitted. "I just sort of... figured it needed the right kind of hum?"
McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course you did."
"Perhaps," McGonagall interjected, "Mr. Potter would benefit from some proper supervision in his... experiments?"
"I would be happy to—" Flitwick began enthusiastically.
"Under multiple teachers' guidance," McGonagall amended firmly.
And that was how Harry found himself with official permission to continue his work, though now with regular check-ins from various professors. Even Snape, despite his obvious reluctance, occasionally stopped by to offer grudgingly helpful criticism.
Over the next few weeks, Harry refined his technique. The combination of voice magic and proper runic carving produced results that even Daphne had to admit were impressive. The finished talisman was a marvel of magical craftsmanship—a silver disk the size of his palm, covered in intricate runes that seemed to shift and flow in the light.
"The protection matrix is stable," Daphne observed, examining the finished piece. "And the reactive defense system is actually quite elegant. Though I still think adding that modification to reflect hexes was unnecessarily flashy."
"It's not flashy, it's efficient," Harry argued. "Besides, Itisa approved."
The Nundu in question was examining the talisman with obvious approval, occasionally batting at it gently with her paw and purring when it produced small sparkles of protective magic.
"Your cat's opinion is not exactly a scientific measure of magical efficiency, Potter."
"You'd be surprised," Harry muttered.
"Just remember," Daphne said as they packed up their materials, "if anyone asks, I had nothing to do with this."
"Worried about your reputation?"
"Worried about being associated with your inevitable next explosion," she corrected, but there was a hint of a smile in her voice.
Harry grinned, slipping the talisman around his neck. The silver felt cool against his skin, humming softly with protective magic. Itisa brushed against his legs approvingly.
"No more explosions," he promised. "Well, no unintentional ones, anyway."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "That's not as reassuring as you think it is, Potter."
As they left the classroom, Harry caught his reflection in a window. The talisman gleamed against his robes, the runes catching the light in a way that made them seem alive. It had taken a month of failures, several singed eyebrows, and more magical explosions than he cared to count, but he'd finally created something that worked—something that was uniquely his.
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I think I'm getting the hang of this whole magical crafting thing."
Behind him, both Daphne and Itisa made remarkably similar sounds of skepticism.
"Your confidence is overwhelming," Harry said dryly.
"Someone has to keep your ego in check," Daphne replied. "It might as well be me and your suspiciously intelligent cat."
Itisa purred in agreement, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Between his enhanced talisman, his improving magical skills, and his unlikely friendship with the most sarcastic Slytherin in his year, things were definitely getting interesting.
He just hoped the talisman would work as intended when he really needed it. Given his luck so far at Hogwarts, he had a feeling that test would come sooner rather than later.
⚯ ͛
Harry stood in Professor McGonagall's office, rolling the silver talisman between his fingers as the stern witch watched him from behind her desk. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through her office windows, making the silver catch the light in mesmerizing patterns.
"I've completed it," Harry said, holding up the talisman so she could see the intricate runes carved into its surface. "And I wanted you to know what it can do."
McGonagall adjusted her square spectacles, studying the magical artifact with careful interest. "And why, Mr. Potter, are you bringing this to my attention rather than Professor Snape's? He is, after all, your Head of House."
Harry's expression hardened slightly. "Because I trust you, Professor."
McGonagall's features softened almost imperceptibly. She was well aware of the circumstances that had led to Harry's placement with the Dursleys.
"Very well," she said, gesturing to the chair across from her desk. "Please, explain what you've created."
Harry told her everything this talisman could do, and Minerva seemed quite impressed by what she just heard.
"Fascinating," she murmured. "And this works consistently?"
"Every time," Harry confirmed. "But that's just the start. Watch this." He stood up, gently displacing Itisa, who moved to a nearby windowsill. "Try casting a minor hex at me. Something harmless."
McGonagall hesitated only briefly before sending a mild Stinging Hex his way. The talisman chimed again, louder this time, and the hex bounced back toward her. She deflected it easily, but her eyes widened with surprise.
"It can reflect weak spells back at the caster," Harry explained. "Nothing too powerful—it won't stop a serious curse or anything. When it encounters something too strong to deflect, it makes a much louder warning sound, giving me time to dodge or shield myself."
"That's quite advanced magic for a student your age," McGonagall observed, though Harry detected a note of pride in her voice.
"There's more," Harry continued. "It can absorb weak spells and hexes, storing their magical energy. When it's collected enough, I can release it as a burst of light." He paused. "Though I probably shouldn't demonstrate that in here. The light's intense enough to cause minor burns, and it's nearly impossible to look at directly."
McGonagall nodded thoughtfully. "A defensive measure transformed into an offensive capability. Very Slytherin of you, Mr. Potter."
Harry grinned. "The Sorting Hat knew what it was doing."
McGonagall was quiet for a long moment, studying Harry with an unreadable expression. "That's extraordinarily complex magic, Mr. Potter. The kind that requires not just skill, but understanding of the deeper principles of magical theory. May I ask why you felt the need to create such a powerful protective device?"
Harry met her gaze steadily. "Because I'm tired of being caught unprepared. The troll, Professor Quirrell. I won't be helpless again." And because I want to gain more influence in the magical world, Harry wanted to say but held his tongue on this part.
"And you don't trust the adults in your life to protect you?" There was no judgment in her voice, only a sad understanding.
"With respect, Professor, adults haven't had the best track record so far." Harry's voice was quiet but firm. "Dumbledore left me with people who—" he cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "And Snape... well, you've seen how he looks me in class."
"The Headmaster made mistakes," McGonagall acknowledged. "Grave ones, regarding your placement. But he truly believed he was acting in your best interest."
"The road to hell, Professor," Harry said with a wisdom beyond his years, "is paved with good intentions. And I have the scars to prove it."
Itisa jumped down from the windowsill, rubbing against Harry's legs comfortingly. McGonagall's eyes followed the creature's movement.
McGonagall sighed, removing her glasses and cleaning them with her robes—a habit Harry had noticed she displayed when deep in thought. "Mr. Potter... Harry. While I understand your reservations about confiding in certain staff members, I must ask: why tell me about the talisman at all? Why not keep its capabilities to yourself?"
"I didn't just make this as a single protective device. I want to duplicate it."
McGonagall's brow furrowed slightly. "Duplicate it? What exactly do you mean by that, Mr. Potter?"
"Well, initially I thought about making them for people I care about," Harry explained. "Hermione, Susan, Sebastian, Anna, Neville... and of course, Nym and her parents." His voice softened at the mention of the Tonks family. "They took me in. They deserve protection too."
"A noble intention," McGonagall nodded. "Though I sense there's more to it than that."
Harry straightened in his chair, a determined glint in his eyes. "I want to produce them on a larger scale. Not just for friends and family, but for anyone who needs protection."
McGonagall's eyebrows rose, genuine intrigue crossing her features. "Are you suggesting you wish to become a talisman maker? That's quite an ambitious career path, Mr. Potter. Though given what I've seen of your work, not an unrealistic one but I thought you told Mister Newt that you want to become a Magizoologist."
"I can be both. I like making talismans, and I like magical creatures," Harry admitted. "I wouldn't mind making a name for myself beyond just being 'The Boy Who Lived.' But there's something more important driving this."
He stood up and began pacing, his passion for the subject evident in his movements. "I've been studying magical history, reading about old innovations and inventions. And I've noticed something concerning. It seems like the magical community has... stagnated."
"Stagnated?" McGonagall repeated, watching him carefully.
"Yes. We've gotten lazy with our magic, Professor. Comfortable. When was the last time someone created something truly new? Something that pushed the boundaries of what we think magic can do?" Harry gestured to the talisman. "This isn't just about protection—it's about showing what's possible when we actually try to innovate."
McGonagall leaned back in her chair, considering his words. "You believe wizards and witches have become too complacent?"
"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed. "We have this incredible power at our fingertips, but what do most people do with it? The same spells their parents used, and their parents before them. No one asks 'what else can we do?' anymore."
"And you see your talisman as a way to challenge that mindset?"
Harry nodded eagerly. "It combines different branches of magic in new ways. Protection charms, temperature regulation, energy storage and release, even healing magic. It shows that we can do more when we think creatively about how magic works."
A thoughtful expression crossed McGonagall's face. "You know, Mr. Potter, you might be onto something more significant than you realize. Have you considered the potential applications for law enforcement?"
"I thought about it, but I don't know anyone in the Ministry."
"I can think of at least two people who would be very interested in your creation—Amelia Bones and Alastor Moody." McGonagall's eyes sparkled. "In fact, if the Auror Department got wind of this, I suspect they'd be quite insistent about implementing it on a larger scale."
"You think the Ministry would want to equip Aurors with these? This is not exactly cheap."
"I think Amelia Bones would be breaking down the Minister's door demanding exactly that, and they are not the type to care about the price," McGonagall said with a slight smile. "And Alastor... well, anything that provides extra protection would certainly appeal to his 'constant vigilance' philosophy."
"That would mean..."
"Ministry contracts, Mr. Potter. Significant ones. The kind that not only provide substantial financial rewards but also considerable influence in the magical community." McGonagall adjusted her spectacles. "Though I suspect that's not your primary motivation."
Harry shook his head. "No, but I'm not naive enough to ignore the advantages. Money means independence, and influence means the ability to make real changes."
"Very Slytherin of you," McGonagall noted approvingly. "Though I see plenty of Ravenclaw innovation in there as well. The Sorting Hat certainly had an interesting choice with you."
"It considered all four houses," Harry admitted. "But it said Slytherin would help me achieve my goals. I'm starting to see why."
"And these goals extend beyond just creating protective talismans?"
Harry nodded seriously. "This is just the beginning, Professor. I want to show people what's possible when we push ourselves, when we question old assumptions about magic. The talisman is proof that we can do more, be more creative, more innovative."
"You're talking about changing the entire magical culture," McGonagall observed. "That's no small ambition."
"Nothing worth doing is small," Harry replied with a slight grin. "Besides, I've got time. I'm starting with something practical—something that can help people right now. The bigger changes... those can come gradually."
McGonagall studied him for a long moment. "You know, Mr. Potter, sometimes I forget just how young you are. You speak with the vision of someone far beyond your years."
"The Dursleys ensured I grew up quickly," Harry said quietly. "And living with the Tonks family... well, they encouraged me to think bigger, to question things. Lady Andromeda especially—she knows what it's like to break away from old ways of thinking."
"Indeed she does," McGonagall agreed. "Have you discussed your plans with them?"
"Some of it. They're supportive, especially about making talismans for family and friends. Ted's been helping me research magical patent laws, actually. Says it's important to protect the invention properly before going public."
"Wise advice," McGonagall nodded. "Though I imagine certain parties will be very interested in how you achieved these effects. The combination of defensive and healing magic alone is quite remarkable."
Harry's expression turned shrewd. "That's one of the reasons I came to you first, Professor. I need allies I can trust before this goes public. People who understand what I'm trying to achieve beyond just making a profit."
"And you trust me with this information?"
"You've earned it," Harry said simply. "You have known about Itisa for years, and you were there to help me. And you understand the importance of innovation in magic—I've seen how you encourage creativity in Transfiguration class."
McGonagall's expression softened slightly. "Well, Mr. Potter, it seems you've given this a great deal of thought. What's your next step?"
"First, perfecting the duplication process. Each talisman needs to be exactly right—there's no room for error when people's lives might depend on them. Then, creating the initial batch for friends and family." Harry paused. "After that... well, I was hoping you might have some advice about approaching Madam Bones?"
"I believe I might be able to arrange an introduction," McGonagall said. "Through proper channels, of course. We'll need to ensure everything is done legally and transparently."
"Of course," Harry agreed. "I want to do this right. Set a proper foundation for everything that comes after."
"And what exactly comes after, Mr. Potter?"
Harry's eyes lit up with determination. "Research, innovation, pushing boundaries. The talisman is just the first step. I want to create a whole new field of magical development, encourage others to experiment and innovate. Maybe even start a company dedicated to magical research and development."
"Ambitious indeed," McGonagall commented. "Though if anyone could achieve it, I suspect it would be you, Mr. Potter. You have your mother's brilliance with charms and your father's creative spirit, combined with your own unique determination."
"And now I have support from people I trust," Harry added meaningfully. "That makes all the difference."
McGonagall rose from her desk. "Very well, Mr. Potter. I will make some discrete inquiries regarding Madam Bones. In the meantime, I suggest you continue your development work, and perhaps prepare a proper presentation of your talisman's capabilities."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said sincerely. "For everything."
As he left McGonagall's office, Itisa padding silently beside him, Harry felt a surge of excitement. The talisman hanging around his neck was more than just a protective device now—it was the first step toward something bigger, something that could change the magical world.
He smiled to himself as he headed back to the Slytherin common room. The wizarding world had grown too comfortable, too set in its ways. But change was coming, one silver talisman at a time. And with this, he would gain more power over things.
Tomorrow
"Try it now," Harry said, holding up the modified talisman as Sebastian took up a fighting stance in the empty classroom they'd commandeered for testing.
"Are you sure about this?" Sebastian asked, his fist raised hesitantly. "I might 'accidentally' knock you down."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's the whole point of testing it. The first version shattered when Professor Dumbledore slammed it again the table. I need to know this one can take a hit."
"Fine, but don't blame me if you end up in the hospital wing." Sebastian threw a punch at Harry's chest where the talisman hung.
There was a soft humming sound, and Sebastian's fist bounced off from the silver disk. Harry grinned triumphantly.
"Brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed from where she sat cross-legged on a desk, a thick tome open in her lap. "The physical protection enchantments are holding. How did you solve the stability issue?"
"Layered runic matrices," Harry explained, pulling out his notebook. "The problem before was I was trying to handle physical and magical protection with the same set of runes. But they need different energy pathways or they interfere with each other."
"Show me?" Hermione leaned forward eagerly, but Susan cleared her throat from the doorway.
"As fascinating as your runic discussions are, we have exams starting tomorrow. Professor Garlick's practical is first thing in the morning, and I for one would like to review the proper handling of Devil's Snare."
Harry suppressed a groan. While he excelled in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology was far from his favorite subject. Professor Garlick was nice enough—young and enthusiastic about her subject—but he found it hard to get excited about magical plants.
"She likes you, you know," Anna teased as they gathered their study materials. "Always giving you extra attention in class."
"She's a teacher!" Harry protested, feeling his cheeks warm slightly.
"A very pretty teacher," Sebastian added with a grin. "With that red hair—"
"Can we please focus on the exams?" Harry interrupted, pulling out his Herbology textbook with more force than necessary. "I'd rather not fail just because you lot are too busy gossiping about our professors."
They settled into their usual study formation, with Hermione taking the lead on organizing their review materials. Despite his reluctance, Harry had to admit that having study partners made the less interesting subjects more bearable.
"Okay," Hermione began, "let's start with the practical exam requirements. Professor Garlick mentioned we'll need to demonstrate proper handling of at least three different plants..."
The next morning found them in Greenhouse One, waiting nervously as Professor Garlick called students in one at a time. When Harry's turn came, she smiled warmly at him.
"Ready, Mr. Potter? Let's see how you handle these lovely specimens."
The practical went better than he'd expected, though he did fumble slightly with the Bouncing Bulb. Professor Garlick steadied his hands with her own, helping him adjust his grip.
"Gentle but firm," she instructed, her voice soft. "Like this."
Harry managed not to blush this time, focusing on the task at hand. When he finished, she gave him an approving nod.
"Well done. You've improved significantly since the start of term."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied politely, hurrying out before his friends could make any more teasing comments.
The rest of the exam week passed in a blur of practical demonstrations and written tests. Defense Against the Dark Arts was easily his best performance—Since Professor Quirrell was dead, Professor Dumbledore would be the one teaching them until they found a new Professor. Dumbledore had barely started explaining the practical exam before Harry had completed it perfectly.
Charms was similarly successful, with Professor Flitwick actually clapping in delight at Harry's demonstration of advanced levitation control.
"Remarkable, Mr. Potter! Taking after your mother, I see. She had quite the talent for charms as well."
Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall was more challenging, but Harry managed to perform all the required transformations correctly, if not with the same natural flair he showed in Charms.
"Acceptable work, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, though her slight smile betrayed her approval. "Though perhaps if you applied yourself to Transfiguration with the same enthusiasm you show for your talisman projects..."
"Sorry, Professor," Harry grinned. "Charms are just more interesting."
"So your mother always said as well," McGonagall replied dryly. "Though she still managed to excel in all her subjects."
The real challenge came with Potions. Snape prowled the dungeon like an ill-tempered bat, hovering particularly close to Harry's cauldron as they brewed their exam potion.
"Tsk, tsk, Potter," he muttered. "Your stirring technique is sloppy. Just like your father—all flash and no precision."
Harry gritted his teeth and focused on his work, carefully following the instructions. He might not love Potions, but he'd studied enough to produce a perfectly adequate Forgetfulness Potion. Snape's scowl when he couldn't find anything to criticize was almost worth the stress.
"I swear he has it out for you," Sebastian muttered as they left the dungeon. "Even though you're in Slytherin."
"He hated my father," Harry shrugged. "And apparently that's more important than House loyalty."
"At least it's over," Susan said consolingly. "And you did well enough to pass, which is all that matters."
"Speaking of passing," Hermione interjected, "shouldn't you be working on those talisman duplicates now that exams are finished? You promised to have them ready before summer break."
Harry patted his bag where his notebook of talisman designs sat. "Already on it. The physical protection enhancement was the last major hurdle. Now it's just a matter of precise replication."
"And then what?" Anna asked. "Are you really going to try selling them to the Ministry?"
"Eventually," Harry nodded. "But first, I want to make sure they're perfect for the people I care about. You lot, the Tonks family... people who've actually been there for me."
"Always the strategist," Sebastian laughed. "Make sure they work flawlessly with friends and family before going commercial."
"It's not just strategy," Harry protested. "I want to protect the people I trust first. The business side can come later."
"Speaking of trust," Hermione said carefully, "have you thought about how you're going to handle the production process once you do start selling them? The enchantments are quite complex."
Harry's expression turned serious. "That's something I need to figure out. The spellwork has to be exact, and the runes have to be carved perfectly. I can't just hand over the designs to random craftspeople."
"You could train people," Susan suggested. "Start small, with trusted employees who sign magical contracts."
"Maybe," Harry mused. "Though finding people I trust enough to teach them the full process..." He trailed off, fiddling with his own talisman.
"One step at a time," Sebastian said practically. "Let's get through the end of term first. Speaking of which, what are your summer plans?"
"I will go to France with Mister Newt Scamander," Harry replied, his mood brightening. "He has promised to show me all the good places, the magical creatures and he even thinks we might have a talk with the Minister of Magic there, his name was Maximilien Delacour."
"And the talisman production?" Hermione pressed.
"That too. Ted's already looking into patents and business regulations. But mostly," Harry grinned, "I'm looking forward to having time to really experiment. No more studying for exams I don't care about."
"You should care about all your subjects," Hermione chided. "A well-rounded education is important."
"Sure," Harry agreed easily. "But admit it—even you find History of Magic boring. I saw you working on that arithmancy book during Binns' lecture on the Goblin Rebellion of 1612."
Hermione flushed slightly as the others laughed. "Well, yes, but that's different. I was still studying, just... advanced material."
"Exactly my point," Harry said. "We should be pushing ourselves to learn new things, not just memorizing old facts. That's what the talisman project is about—showing what's possible when you think creatively about magic."
"And making a name for yourself that has nothing to do with being the Boy Who Lived," Susan added shrewdly.
Harry shrugged. "Can't hurt. Better to be known for something I've actually done than for something I can't even remember."
They reached the entrance hall, where they would split up to their respective common rooms. Harry paused, looking at his friends.
"Thanks, by the way. For helping with all the testing and studying. I know I've been a bit obsessed with the talisman project..."
"That's what friends are for," Sebastian said, punching his arm lightly. The talisman hummed softly, and they all laughed.
"Still working perfectly, I see," Anna grinned.
"Just wait until you have your own," Harry promised. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some runic calculations to work on before bed."
"Of course you do," Hermione sighed. "Just don't stay up too late. We still have Astronomy tomorrow night."
One Week Later
Harry climbed the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office, his silver talisman gleaming against his black school robes. He'd left Itisa with Tonks, who was more than happy to spend time with the unusual familiar while he attended this meeting. When he reached the heavy wooden door, he heard multiple voices engaged in conversation inside.
"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore called before he could knock.
Harry entered to find the office more crowded than usual. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, wearing robes of midnight blue decorated with silver stars that seemed to actually twinkle. To his right stood Mad-Eye Moody, his magical eye whirling in its socket, dressed in his characteristic weathered leather coat and dark combat robes.
Amelia Bones stood near Fawkes' perch, her monocle glinting in the afternoon light. She wore formal charcoal gray robes with the DMLE insignia, her bearing as commanding as ever.
The three unfamiliar faces in the room drew Harry's attention. The first was a tall, lean man with salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a neat queue. He wore expertly tailored robes in deep bronze, with intricate runic patterns embroidered along the hem and cuffs in copper thread. A collection of enchanted rings adorned his long fingers, and a crystal monocle similar to Amelia's hung from a golden chain around his neck.
"Elliot Finch," he introduced himself with a slight bow. "Chief Examiner of Magical Artifacts."
Beside him stood a shorter, broader man with a carefully trimmed beard and kind eyes. His robes were a practical dark green, but the fabric seemed to shimmer slightly when he moved, suggesting powerful protective enchantments woven into the material. Multiple pouches and tool holders hung from a leather belt at his waist.
"Leo Hartwell," he said warmly, extending a calloused hand. "Runic Integration Specialist."
The third visitor was a woman who appeared to be in her early forties, with striking silver-streaked black hair arranged in an elegant twist. She wore robes of deep purple silk, with what appeared to be actual starlight dancing along the fabric. Various magical instruments hung from chains around her neck, and her wand holster was crafted from mother-of-pearl.
"Clara Dovewood," she smiled, her voice carrying a slight Welsh lilt. "Senior Talisman Assessor. We've heard quite remarkable things about your creation, Mr. Potter."
"It's nice to meet you all," Harry replied politely, noting how their eyes all tracked to the talisman at his throat. "Professor McGonagall mentioned you might be interested in examining my work."
"Interested is putting it mildly," Moody growled, his magical eye fixed on the silver disk. "Any artifact that combines defensive and healing magic that effectively deserves proper investigation."
"Indeed," Clara agreed, stepping forward. "With your permission, Mr. Potter, we'd like to conduct a formal assessment of your talisman. This would involve a series of standardized tests to evaluate its capabilities, durability, and magical integration."
"The results would determine its official ranking," Elliot added, adjusting his monocle. "Which would be necessary for any future production or distribution plans."
"The testing process is quite thorough, Harry. These three are the finest magical artifact assessors in Britain." Dumbledore said with an encouraging smile.
"What exactly do the tests involve?" Harry asked, his hand unconsciously rising to touch the talisman.
Leo pulled out a leather-bound notebook. "We examine five primary aspects: magical power output, physical durability, spell integration, runic stability, and sustained performance under stress. Each test builds on the previous ones."
"Some talismans barely achieve Ashborn rank," Clara explained. "They're little more than simple enchanted trinkets. Others reach Kindleheart, showing decent magical potential but limited practical application."
"Gilded Fang is where things get interesting," Elliot continued. "Those talismans demonstrate significant power and craftsmanship. Very few achieve Phoenix Crown status—those are the ones that show truly exceptional magical innovation."
"And Eclipse Eternal?" Harry asked, curious.
The three exchangers glanced at each other before Clara spoke. "In the last century, only one talisman have been ranked Eclipse Eternal. They're the kind of artifacts that reshape our understanding of what magic can do."
"From what Amelia and Alastor have told us," Leo added, "your creation might be more remarkable than you realize."
Harry straightened his shoulders. "I'm happy to have it tested. When would you like to begin?"
"No time like the present," Moody stated. "Unless you have objections, Albus?"
"Not at all," Dumbledore smiled. "I've taken the liberty of preparing the Hogwarts Grounds for your use."
"Excellent," Clara said, pulling out a crystal instrument that hummed faintly. "Shall we proceed, Mr. Potter?"
As they filed out of the office, Harry felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He'd put months of work into perfecting the talisman's design, pushing the boundaries of what he thought possible. Now he'd find out if it was truly as innovative as he hoped.
"One moment," he said as they reached the corridor. "Would it be possible to have Professor McGonagall present for the testing? She's been instrumental in helping me develop this."
"Of course," Amelia nodded approvingly. "Minerva's insights would be valuable, and she's already familiar with the project."
"Nervous?" Moody asked gruffly, his magical eye swiveling to focus on Harry.
"A little," Harry admitted. "But mostly curious. I want to know if I'm on the right track."
"Good attitude," Moody approved. "Constant vigilance applies to invention as much as defense. Never assume you've got it perfect."
⚯ ͛
The group assembled on a clear area of the Hogwarts grounds, far enough from the castle to be safe but close enough that curious students could watch from the windows. Harry spotted Sebastian and Hermione's faces among the onlookers and gave them a small wave.
"Where's that interesting cat of yours, Potter?" Moody asked, his magical eye scanning the surroundings. "The one that's not quite what it seems?"
Harry kept his expression neutral. "Itisa's staying with Tonks until we're done here. I thought it best to avoid any distractions."
Moody's normal eye narrowed slightly, but he nodded in approval. "Good thinking, lad."
Clara stepped forward, her starlit robes flowing gracefully. "Let's begin with the basic power output test. Mr. Potter, please stand in the center of this runic circle." She waved her wand, and glowing symbols appeared on the ground.
Leo pulled out several crystalline instruments from his pouches. "These will measure the talisman's magical signature and energy levels. Try to remain still while we take the initial readings."
Harry stood quietly as the three examiners moved around him, their instruments humming and clicking. Elliot's monocle glowed as he studied the talisman intently.
"Fascinating layering of the protection charms," he murmured. "The warning system is particularly elegant. Shall we test it?"
"I'll cast first," Clara decided, raising her wand slowly. Before she could utter a spell, the talisman emitted a clear, musical tone.
"Early warning system," Harry explained. "It detects hostile intent when someone aims their wand at the wearer."
"Impressive," Amelia commented. "That could give Aurors valuable extra seconds in a confrontation."
Clara cast a mild Stinging Hex. The talisman hummed, and the spell rebounded, forcing her to step quickly aside.
"Automatic defensive reflection," Leo noted, scribbling in his notebook. "Limited to lower-power spells, I assume?"
Harry nodded. "It can't handle anything too powerful. That's why it has a different warning sound for—"
"STUPEFY!" Moody barked suddenly, sending a powerful stunning spell at Harry. The talisman let out a sharp, loud tone, and Harry dove to the side, the spell missing him by inches.
"Alastor!" McGonagall scolded, but Harry grinned.
"That's exactly what it's supposed to do," he said. "The louder warning means it can't deflect the incoming spell, so the wearer knows to dodge."
"Good design choice," Moody approved. "Better to know your limitations than overestimate your protection."
Elliot raised his wand next. "Let's test the absorption capacity. Multiple minor hexes in succession, if you're ready?"
At Harry's nod, he began casting a series of small jinxes. The talisman absorbed each one, its silver surface beginning to glow faintly.
"The stored magical energy can be released as a defensive measure," Harry explained. "Would you like to see?"
"Please proceed," Clara said, her measuring instruments at the ready.
"Release," Harry commanded. The talisman pulsed, and a brilliant beam of white light erupted from it. Everyone except Harry had to look away or shield their eyes. Even from several feet away, they could feel the heat of it.
"Merlin's beard!" Leo exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. "That's quite the deterrent. Could be very effective for crowd control or escape situations."
"The light can cause mild burns if you're too close," Harry warned. "I learned that the hard way during testing."
"Let's move on to environmental adaptability," Clara suggested. She waved her wand, creating a sphere of intense cold around Harry. The talisman glowed softly, and Harry remained comfortable despite his breath fogging in the frigid air.
"Temperature regulation," Elliot noted. "Both heating and cooling capabilities?"
"Yes," Harry confirmed. "It responds automatically to extreme temperatures in either direction."
"Very practical," McGonagall commented. "Especially for those working in varying climates."
"Now for the more rigorous durability testing," Leo said, pulling out what looked like a miniature battering ram. "Physical impact resistance first."
Over the next hour, they subjected the talisman to a battery of tests: physical strikes, magical bombardment, attempts to disable the runic arrays, and even exposure to various magical substances. The talisman held up well, its protections remaining stable.
"There's one more capability we should discuss," Clara said finally, consulting her notes. "The emergency healing function. Though I assume we won't be testing that directly."
Harry touched the talisman gently. "No, that's a last resort only. It can save the wearer's life if they're critically injured, but the talisman destroys itself in the process—burns to ash after using that much power."
"A significant sacrifice," Amelia observed. "But one that could make the difference between life and death."
"Have you witnessed this function in action?" Elliot asked.
"Once, during early testing with a prototype," Harry admitted. "An accident in the lab. The talisman healed the injury completely but burned out immediately after."
The three examiners conferred quietly for several minutes, comparing notes and measurements. Finally, Clara turned to address the group.
"Mr. Potter, your talisman demonstrates remarkable innovation in several areas. The integration of multiple protective functions is skillfully done, and the warning system shows particular ingenuity."
"The runic arrays are elegantly constructed," Leo added. "Especially for someone your age. The layering of protective and reactive enchantments is highly sophisticated."
"The power management is also noteworthy," Elliot continued. "Many young artificers try to make their creations too powerful, but you've carefully balanced capabilities with limitations."
"However," Clara said, "the most impressive aspect is how the various functions work together as a cohesive whole. This isn't just a collection of useful enchantments—it's a thoughtfully designed protective system."
"So what's the verdict?" Moody asked gruffly. "Where does it rank?"
The three exchangers shared another look before Clara spoke. "Based on our comprehensive testing and analysis, we rank this talisman as Gilded Fang tier."
A murmur of appreciation went through the observers. Harry felt his heart leap. For his first talisman. This was wonderful.
"Really?" he asked. "Even with its limitations?"
"Those limitations are part of why it deserves the ranking," Leo explained. "You've created something that knows its boundaries and works within them effectively, rather than trying to do too much and failing."
"The craftsmanship is exceptional," Elliot added. "And the innovation in combining these specific functions opens up new possibilities for protective artifacts."
"I would say it barely missed Phoenix Crown ranking," Clara said thoughtfully. "The only reason it didn't quite reach that tier is that some of the individual functions have been seen before, albeit not combined in this way. Phoenix Crown and Eclipse Eternal is reserved for completely revolutionary innovations."
"Still, Gilded Fang is a remarkable achievement," McGonagall said proudly. "Especially for a first-year student."
"There will be significant interest in this design," Amelia noted. "Both from the DMLE and other departments."
"Speaking of which," Clara interjected, "we should discuss the possibility of refinements and production standards if you're planning to create more of these."
"I've already made a few for friends and family," Harry admitted. "But mass production would be more complicated. The runic carving has to be exact, and the enchantments have to be layered in precisely the right order."
"We could help with developing standardized production methods," Leo offered. "While maintaining the quality control necessary for such powerful artifacts."
As they discussed technical details, Harry noticed movement at the castle windows. The number of student observers had grown considerably, and he could see them pointing and talking excitedly.
"Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere more private," Dumbledore suggested, his eyes twinkling. "I believe the house-elves have prepared refreshments in my office."
As they walked back to the castle, Moody fell into step beside Harry. "Good work, Potter. But remember—"
"Constant vigilance," Harry finished with a smile. "I know. That's why I built in all those warning systems."
"Aye. And speaking of warnings, you might want to keep that unusual pet of yours out of sight when the Ministry folks are around. Some people get nervous about magical creatures they don't understand."
Harry gave Moody a measured look. "I'll keep that in mind. Itisa's very good at staying inconspicuous when she needs to."
"I'm sure she is," Moody replied dryly. "Just like her owner."
Inside the castle, Harry could hear excited chatter as they passed groups of students. The news of the talisman's testing and ranking would be all over the school by dinner.
"You realize you'll be getting a lot of requests for these now," McGonagall said quietly as they climbed the stairs.
"I know," Harry sighed. "But I want to do this right. Make sure they're perfect before they go to anyone outside my trusted circle."
"A wise approach," she approved. "Though perhaps we should discuss adding some advanced Transfiguration to your studies next year. It could open up new possibilities for your work."
Harry grinned. "As long as I can keep focusing on Charms too."
"Of course," McGonagall smiled. "Though I still say you're wasted in Slytherin. That innovative mind of yours would have done well in Ravenclaw."
"The hat knows best, Professor," Harry replied diplomatically, thinking of all the connections and resources his house placement had given him access to.
As they entered Dumbledore's office, Harry felt a wave of satisfaction. The talisman had exceeded expectations, and new possibilities were opening up. He missed Itisa's reassuring presence, but he knew she was safe with Tonks, probably being spoiled with treats.
There was still so much to learn, so many improvements to make, but today had proven he was on the right path.
This was just the beginning.
NOTE: The Ranks for Talismans
Ashborn (Weak Talisman Rank) – The faintest ember of power, a fledgling tool for minor spells.
Kindleheart (Mid Talisman Rank) – A warm, steady source of magic, but not that capable.
Gilded Fang (Good Talisman Rank) – Sharp and gleaming with magical potential, trusted for significant spells and protection.
Phoenix Crown (Excellent Talisman Rank) – Majestic and radiant, imbued with a near-legendary magical force.
Eclipse Eternal (Masterpiece Talisman Rank) – A timeless creation, its power eclipses all other creations.
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