Chapter 8
The spring was marked by mandrake transplants and a hormonal surge, something I had expected from my body, but somehow it still came out unexpectedly. I was not alone in my soul's longing, and in the boys' bedrooms I began to talk about it, and in the morning the physiology began to show itself. Puberty in all its glory, sorrow, but where to go. Just keep your head up and wait for the body to get over it.
I have mastered the magic of copying and material illusion, or rather, as I have mastered them, I have managed to combine them into one bundle, so that I can now duplicate books in the study room and take them outside. As it is, the copy is held by my personal magic. But not for too long, if I use the maximum amount of energy, it might last for a few months, but like this, it lasts for five days and so on. The need for such actions arose from the fears of the same director. The old man looked at me strangely when he saw me plowing in the greenhouses.
Before leaving for summer vacation, like a ninja in the night, I sneaked up to the eighth floor to perform a ritual. I walked in front of the troll ballet three times, holding in my mind the image of an empty room with a picture painted on the floor. Of course, it was possible to just ask for an empty room and use pens, but a template was much easier. The training of the mind with the development of the mental layer of the aura made it possible, albeit with some difficulty, to translate the desired image outward. All that remained was to wield the brush, which took a few hours. And that is quite fast, from the beginning I would have worked with this art until morning.
The ritual itself was simple, I should have done it, the outer circle of runes that limited the spell was ten meters in diameter. I put a lot of power into the spell, but I wasn't even close to exhaustion. So, somewhere beside him. The magic, which before had been felt at the level of ordinary air with light gusts of wind, whirled, swirled, enveloped the skin, covered me, hundreds of multicolored threads united the two concentrated areas for a moment, flashed something iridescent. Or was it just my retinas reflecting a riot of power? It could be anything.
As I blinked, I took in the result of my labors with awe and even joy. Instead of a pile of dragon skin clippings lying in a scarlet puddle, there was a neat book, even a thicker notebook with a copper-colored leather cover. It felt like something of mine, something native. It was pleasant to hold, like a purring kitten. The owner's name, embossed in the top third, set off a chain of associations. Very much, you know, my creation looks like the diary of a dark lord. Still, one wonders.
Could Tom have found a description? Why not, they're not Horcruxes, theoretically, it's hard to go to jail for something like that, even today. Blood only goes into the potion, and since it is one's own, and the product is for personal use only, if you have money, you can easily pay for it. The ritual is more complicated, but there's nothing dark about it, certainly nothing darker than binding an unintelligent animal to a familiar. Although it is on the list of not recommended, it is not forbidden.
This list contains almost two-thirds of medical magic, and nothing that the Aurors don't bother healers with checks on. You could say it's a classic of the genre. The authorities always have something to reward the unwanted with attention, and then, as they say, if there was a man, there would be an article. I put the book in the inside pocket of my robe and went to sleep. I walked openly anyway, it was getting light outside the window and the train was only a few hours away. I didn't meet anyone, so I reached the living room without any problems. I couldn't sleep, of course, but that's okay, I took a nap on the way.
The train station, the fireplace, Tom's greeting with a joke about waiting apartments, the pharmacist who greeted me like a native and bought up the whole harvest, good. The summer before my fourth year, I decided to spend it working. Not in the sense of working in a familiar shop, but to make a plan for the future. Somehow in my past life I happened to read about hydroponics, now I cannot really remember why I suddenly became interested in this topic. And it is not important, much more interesting is the complete absence of this promising direction in magicians. However, in the 80's about this method of growing plants and muggles in the masses have heard very little.
I seemed to have enough theoretical knowledge, at least I had some thoughts about how and what to realize, but I needed to do a lot of calculations. The industry had already produced good, programmable calculators, which made the work much easier. The whole summer I counted, drew and experimented with single elements. I was thoroughly carried away by this mago-engineering task, in the end, one can say, a solid scientific work rolled up. And at the junction of a bunch of directions.
There and arithmetic with improved methods of calculation and new rune chains for fixing charms and a bunch of deeply modernized to unrecognizable spells combined in various complexes and cascades. Due to the lack of magical powers, I had to rework a lot of rituals, I didn't forget about transfiguration, and how much I had to deal with potions, it was horrible.
Due to limited financial and magical resources, I had to work hard on the economic component of the project, but the cost of less than four hundred galleons for a mobile hydroponic greenhouse was not achieved. Or rather, you can do it for a hundred, but it's not profitable.
Small internal volume, short-lived charms that require constant renewal, sheer torture, to put it simply. After purchasing the materials to create the artifact, I only had enough money left to buy school supplies. This is despite the fact that I didn't buy any textbooks. Or rather, I bought the cheapest ones in a very shabby condition. To have something to demonstrate in class and not cause questions from the teachers. Nothing, I thought on the way to school, Mrs. Sprout won't refuse the enthusiast, there will be money for next summer, and the hydroponic greenhouse I will quickly build, experiment, and maybe I will earn something from it.
Three times ha-ha, naive young man with a burning eye. You want to work in a greenhouse, boy, and you need money? Too bad, the kindest grandpa principal doesn't mind students doing hands-on projects, he's even willing to reward them financially. Like a whole galleon for every mandrake bulb or a shekel for a basket of shake. Bearded bastard, I hate it. I don't want to be a Dark Lord. But I'll remember that when I see him. Unfortunately, I had to agree.
I needed the money anyway, of course I wouldn't even have enough for a room with board in The Leaky Cauldron, but at least I would be dressed for school. And yes, the old Auror who used to teach Defense had quit. Tough guy, taught us for three years. But the curse of the job, in the form of an old geezer, took him down. Now we are taught by yesterday's graduate, who graduated five years ago and has never been an Auror. And it looks like I'm going to have to visit the orphanage next summer. I can feel it in my tailbone. Dumbledore has decided to pay attention to the school.
Working in the school greenhouse, studying, doing homework, creating HECC (Hydroponic Economic Compact Complex) and filling the Grimoire. All in all, it's been another year with a tongue on my shoulder. It was especially hard in November when I finished my development. On the plus side, it worked at all. The downside was that I had to tweak everything. Constantly adjusting and customizing charms, double-checking calculations, correcting, adjusting and trying to get the runes to live. In general — darkness.
The artifact is not even a steel foundry, it is not only difficult to stop it, but banally impossible. As a result of the work that took the rest of the fall and the whole winter, it turned out to be something of little use for profit. Only the simplest magical herbs could grow under HECC conditions, which were used for potion bases. It was a cakewalk, I thought, until I tried to plant them. The herbs grew so vigorously that they grew almost twice as fast as their counterparts in the fields and beds. I only had to work once a week with, use a spells for cutting and chopping, bagging the end product. Once a month I extracted it and filled the barrel left over from soaking the skins.