A minute later I could behold a heavy thick sheet of mirror-smooth metal. On wheels with the simplest locking mechanism in the form of a lowering clamp. Now a sledgehammer. Small; right now I don't need much. The dwarf shard, one might say, squeaked indignantly, and for the umpteenth time I experienced slight disappointment in my own body, like: "Flimsy little human!" But this is just background, inconsistency which I will gradually eliminate over time. A year or two, and not a trace should remain of such quirks.
The sledgehammer turned out small, I would even say, a mallet, only metal and rectangular. On one side was a simple runic chain, which upon impact will direct a magical construct down the sledgehammer. This construct, upon passing through the impression, will etch the necessary contour in the workpiece.
Taking the first blank, put it on the metal platform, took the sledgehammer in hands, and directing a little neutral energy into it, hit the blank.
A sharp ring filled the space. A sheaf of sparks flew from under the sledgehammer. Putting the tool aside, took the resulting amulet. It almost didn't change shape, but a beautiful ornate contour appeared on its surface on two sides. Almost immediately as the amulet ended up in my hand, I felt stabilization of temperature around me to slightly warm, comfortable, but not hot; exactly how it should work.
With a creak recalling a diagnostic contour from elven memory shards, applied it to the blank and made sure that this is exactly what is needed, and nothing more. Mm-yeah, pity, how pity, that there are too few such contours in memory, and everything else is either incomplete or generally just tatters.
Well, while no one is here, need to forge.
Waving a sledgehammer is not waving a wand. The conclusion is simple, but not obvious, strangely enough. The arm buzzed and hurt. It seemed even now it vibrates, and hearing, hearing! What happened to me?! Concussion, not otherwise. Ringing in ears doesn't intend to pass, and even life energy "running through veins" seems to have resigned its powers.
This, of course, I exaggerate, but only after ten minutes, during which I collected and put blanks into the backpack, everything came to a relative norm.
Leaving the room, I was slightly surprised by the noise, and reaching the common room, was surprised even more. It already began to darken outside the window, and in the common room itself, there were quite a lot of people. Strange even that I wasn't disturbed. Although, it seems, Zacharias said that personal nooks are well protected from noise, and only words intended for the owner of the nook bypass this protection. This works only with tightly drawn curtains. But then a logical question arises for me; and why don't the guys close up for the night? After all, then they would be protected from my attempts to wake them, which, by the way, I no longer undertake. Maybe someone opens them in the morning?
Seeing Cedric on the sofa in the company of peers, I headed to them.
"Hi, folks," I waved a hand.
"Oh, hi, rising star," all present greeted me joyfully.
"Star?"
"But of course," Cedric shrugged, smiling. "I'll say right away, not I, but Herbert blabbed everything to everyone."
"What, 'everything'?"
"That you are now in our team in the role of Chaser, and potentially Seeker."
"A-a-ah, clear," I smiled. "Cedric, have a conversation, can I have a minute?"
"Of course," he nodded, getting up, and turned to his own. "I'll be right back."
We stepped aside into a secluded nook of the common room, and the prefect waved his wand in space, forcing air around to ripple.
"So that they don't eavesdrop. Household charms, fourth year," he explained, seeing my curiosity. "There are other options, but this is simple and effective. Did something happen?"
"Here," I held out one of the droplet-amulets to Cedric.
"What is this?" the prefect took the thing in hands without fear, and immediately understood everything. "Oh, wow! And you are a big well done."
Cedric examined the results of my labors with interest for about a minute.
"This will pass for three Galleons without problems. Made it yourself?"
"Just strictly between us."
Cedric looked at me with a sly smile.
"You noticed that I work like damned for reputation? A good authority I would make if I blabbed left and right."
"Yeah I got it, got it. We play factions, war games, alliances, and other crap here at Hogwarts."
"That is true," Cedric smiled much wider. "Both father and his friends, all said in one voice that Hogwarts is a small world, slightly imitating life outside. Here even concluded agreements and so on need to be confirmed upon graduation, or they will become invalid."
"Mm-yeah?"
"At Hogwarts there are many different charms and taboos regulating students' lives. After all, founders wanted to make precisely a school, and not a branch of Hell in the mountains of Scotland. And considering those times, morals and constant strife, skirmishes and conflicts, there is nothing to be surprised about at all. Okay, closer to the point. So you showed me a working amulet... Um, pendant; think that will be better. What next?"
"Everything is simple," I smiled. "Can stamp them even for all students."
"Getting interesting."
"Need to sell."
"So sell," Cedric shrugged, but expectation is read in the gaze.
"I am Muggle-born, Cedric. And you understand perfectly well that a large part of the sales market will be inaccessible to me simply due to prejudices of others."
A group of students passed by, but they were clearly looking for Cedric. What pleases is the quick-wittedness of students in the House. See that the person they need communicates on a clearly important topic; will wait, won't interrupt and climb in.
"Then I can suggest you work through the Weasley twins."
"I wouldn't want to betray my involvement in principle. And why Weasley?"
"They engage in creating a multitude of crafts and potions, mostly of joking nature. No one will be surprised that they will sell warming pendants too. For a small percentage."
"And guarantees of honest deal?"
"Reputation, Hector," Cedric smiled. "Same old reputation. Since second year they dream of opening their shop of magical jokes, and for the sake of this idea they work harder than half our House, never mind that they are Gryffindors."
"You know a lot about them."
"We are neighbors. I know them since childhood. They have a large and poor family, and failure means real collapse of plans, without opportunity to fix anything."
"I understood, but nevertheless. For now I don't want to shine unnecessarily."
"Understand," Cedric nodded. "Well then... Let me conclude an agreement for supplies with them, without indicating the manufacturer. But percentage, you understand yourself."
"How much?"
"They themselves will agree to fifteen percent, and I will take five for mediation. Better to realize at two and a half Galleons; that is an affordable price generally for everyone. But worth considering that about twenty people won't buy simply 'because'. Now about two hundred eighty people study at school, mostly in upper years, but the situation is correcting with years. Approximate revenue will be about six hundred twenty-five Galleons... and minus percentages... five hundred, but better to count on slightly less."
"Think that will be not bad."
Trust is a very strange subject. Now it exists, and now it doesn't. Let's see how such an act of trust in the prefect and Weasley twins, with whom I am not personally acquainted yet, ends. If anything, I have money in any case; left from what parents gave. But this is a reserve for a rainy day. Let's see if it is worth working with these guys. Well, and to assure of the seriousness of my approach...