I literally placed my hands on the pot and projected a simple plant growth stimulation circuit, known to every elf from infancy. I directed some life energy into the soil and activated the circuit. It was visible to the naked eye how something stirred in the earth and froze. I only gave a push. Then, directing neutral energy, I added a precise volitional impulse containing information about what I wanted to get. In time, a small tree in the shape of a bow should grow. Handle, limbs, everything. Now it only needs occasional magical feeding over the next two months, and a beautiful elven bow will grow from the pot.
How absurd.
So, what project did Cedric give me?
I pulled out the parchment, unfolded it, and began reading. The further I read, the closer I came to mild shock. A portable device capable of deploying a microclimate field with a fifty meter radius, protection from ordinary people, surveillance devices, and other detection methods? It would be easier to reverse engineer the reality slice transition in Diagon Alley.
All right. I need to think. Cedric did not specify a price, but I suspect it will be high, which is pleasing. Well then, dwarf shard, rejoice. We shall forge nonsense until victory.
Now I just need to decide what exactly to forge.
---
November is a miserable month here. The landscapes of the Scottish Highlands, beautiful in their grim severity, become oppressively heavy. Eternal fogs, dampness, and cold make themselves known, and the Black Lake has fully exchanged its blue surface for steel gray. Yes, the overcast sky is to blame, but who pays attention to that? I had to remind pendant buyers through Cedric that they do not grant the right to parade naked in the cold. You still need to dress for the season to get maximum comfort.
My studies split into two directions. Practicing magic per the program of the first three years alongside current homework, and self study through reading books and searching for anything unique, trying to cover as broad a spectrum of disciplines as possible. I cannot stop admiring the utterly insane and unrestrained imagination of local wizards, unlimited in magic reserves, when it comes to absurd inventions. Take self tying shoelaces. A vivid example that refuses to leave my mind. Why? Did their hands fall off? They created so much on the principle of "because I can" that wizard and elf fragments can only grind their teeth at this interworld injustice.
Three times a week, the team and I trained, thinking over tactics against Ravenclaw. It was obvious that we could not rely on point difference. They are smart and had grasped our new idea. Cedric even suggested I try out as Seeker. The Snitch never once left my sensitivity zone. I always found and caught it instantly thanks to maneuverability and the broom's ability to redirect all power into one vector. In short, boring. I said so. The others shrugged. We play for fun. No one will force anyone into an uninteresting role.
Interestingly, my talents pushed the others toward personal training, and their performance began to improve.
"It looks unserious," Cedric once said in the locker room, "when the whole team lags too far behind the lead player in technique."
In the evenings, I experimented with hammer and anvil, inventing and testing methods of enchantment, engraving, and forging. It turned out all I needed was to think it through. Modularity is key. That was the first major decision. The base would be a platform creating an effect field in a radius. What effect? That depends on the small modules in the form of pendants placed into slots. Simple genius.
What were the expedition requirements? Microclimate, abstract protection from curious wizards and Muggles, protection from detection technology. The first was easy. A comfortable temperature circuit and humidity circuit. Two modules. The others were problematic. I did not know such circuits, so I decided to experiment.
The first experiment in my nook involved enchanting a removable hammer attachment. Yes, I made one. Easy. A mechanical lock. Quarter turn to remove, quarter turn to attach. I created one with a simple local rune chain meaning "Imitation." Its essence is to imitate an applied enchantment from the local school and perform its function until the stored energy is depleted. I cast Luminofores, making it glow a chosen color, attached it to the hammer, and struck the blank. Sparks flew, ears rang, and a simple engraving appeared, good quality. The result was clear. A large teardrop pendant now glowed blue constantly, its engraving glowing brighter.
Because my forging method created artifacts with an innate magical effect rather than applied enchantments, energy consumption was minuscule, which was a problem. It never went out. Ever. Where to put it now, unclear. Still, the result pleased me, but there were issues, so I consulted Cedric.
It was mid November. The response deadline was near. I found Cedric in the common room with some older students, writing something hurriedly. I pulled him aside. As always, he cast privacy charms.
"Something wrong?"
"You could say that. Do you know the order details?"
"Yes," he scratched his temple sheepishly. "I could not resist curiosity."
"Do you know charms that can achieve the effects?"
"Hm. I am more into Transfiguration," he thought. "Remind me what is needed."
"Abstract protection from curious beings and detection technology."
"If I recall correctly, such charms are in books like 'Magical Concealment' and 'Statute of Secrecy: Fundamental Charms,' and similar works."
"Got it. Thanks."
"Anytime. It is in my interest," he smiled.
On Wednesday, November seventeenth, I spent all free time in the library, finding those books and a couple more. I memorized the needed charms on the spot, then returned to my nook.
I made several removable hammer heads, engraved the Imitation rune, and enchanted each in turn. Standard Muggle Repelling, Notice Me Not, Disillusionment, Salvio Hexia, Muffliato. One by one, I forged blanks. The patterns were simple but effective. Diagnostics confirmed effects.
The result was a convex platform like an inverted plate with six recesses holding enchanted pendants. I assembled it and considered. Not enough. I needed a charge indicator. Easy. I forged a tiny Luminofores rune. It glows, magic present. Less glow, less magic. Despite high cost charms, the artifact consumed very little magic, if any. I suspected local runes break conservation laws. Maybe dwarven forging alters reality or taps external dimensions.
The device activated by removing a central rod. Simple. I wrapped it and put it in my backpack, then went to the common room. Cedric sat at a table. I nodded. He cast Tempus, nodded, fetched an expanded bag, and returned.
"Ready?"
"Yes," I handed him the bundle. "No instructions written."
"There are text charms."
"I have only been here half a year."
"Fair," Cedric smiled. "Maybe that is why you make interesting things."
I explained usage in a minute, then joined classmates.
"Oh, homework without me?" I joked.
"You do it twice as fast," Justin waved me off. "You can copy."
"Thanks, but I will just check."
After homework, the girls fetched tea and cookies.
"Maybe we should finish the Patronus," Justin suggested.
"Mist and shields already work," Hannah shrugged. "You want corporeal form?"
"Yeah."
"Going for great wizard glory?" she teased.
"Why not?"
"Power is lacking," I said, sipping tea.
"How do you know?" Susan perked up.
"I read."
"So we all can, if we push?"
"Theoretically."
"That hurts self esteem," Zacharias sighed.
"Cookie?" Hannah offered.
He grabbed it.
"It feels like being cheated. A Muggleborn knows so much."
"It is perception," Justin said.
I explained. Magic is new to some, routine to others. He needs a goal.
"Why is Justin casual then?" Hannah asked.
"I had Muggle plans," he shrugged. "Eton."
"Oh! I know!" Susan exclaimed. "After fifth year, one can petition the Ministry, get Muggle education. Eton, Oxford accept wizards. Windsor pays half."
"How generous," I smiled.
"Few use it. Wizards find Muggle subjects hard."
"But why not tell Muggleborns?"
"They do not know," Susan said.
"Chaos, Your Majesty," I muttered.