Tamara desired carnal pleasures, but I did not. For some reason, after rummaging through her mind and working on her personality, my desire for sex vanished entirely. Not just the desire, but the interest and arousal as well.
"Somnius," I cast a sleep spell on her.
Her body slowly relaxed and fell onto the bed. Let her sleep, and we'll figure out what to do later. I don't know, maybe someone else would've taken the girl to bed in this situation. But right now, I had absolutely no desire to do so.
For the following days, until the departure to Hogwarts, I focused on my own studies, as well as tutoring Justin. The boy was really making progress, quickly grasping the basic concepts of the magical world. To him, the magical world was something incredibly fascinating, straight out of a fairy tale.
I didn't get a chance to meet with Maggie, even though she invited me on behalf of her daughter.
On the last day of working with Justin, I received a check for seventy thousand pounds and immediately deposited it in the bank. Let it sit there until the time comes when I need to use that money.
On the 31st of August, I was already seated in the Hogwarts Express, waiting for it to depart. Looking out the window, I immediately noticed several familiar faces, as well as some others that drew attention due to their hair color. The Weasley family was all there, along with a dark-haired boy with large glasses. The boy looked somewhat downtrodden.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," I said calmly.
The door opened, and a blonde face with slicked-back hair appeared in the corridor. With him were two stocky boys with dumb expressions on their faces.
"Excuse me," said the blonde and quickly shut the door, though it didn't stay closed for long.
Isolda and Dorsani entered, and shortly after, Nymphadora joined them. The girls shrunk their bags and took their seats in the compartment. After a while, the train started moving, gradually picking up speed. London still flickered by outside the window for a bit, until the private homes were replaced by forested areas and green hills.
"Last year," sighed Isolda. "Yeah."
"That's why I decided to take the train to Hogwarts instead of Apparating straight to the door," I said calmly.
"By the way, have you heard that Harry Potter is starting this year?" Nymphadora asked.
"Yeah, I know," Isolda nodded. "Rumor has it he was seen recently in Diagon Alley, shopping for school supplies, accompanied by Rubeus Hagrid."
"The Keeper?" Nymphadora asked with slight surprise. "That's odd."
"I think so too," Isolda exhaled and shrugged. "I thought Professor McGonagall would be handling something like that."
I only knew about this boy from books. Harry Potter was a hero in Magical Britain because the last Dark Lord, a terrorist with blatantly racist views, died because of him, with the support of other wizards, magical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and many others. This boy is also called The Boy Who Lived, as it's said he survived the Killing Curse. If that's true, then any belief that there's no defense against that spell would be shattered.
"That's what everyone thought," sighed Isolda. "But no, he was accompanied by the half-giant. And by the way, we're getting a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"A new one?" Nymphadora asked, slightly surprised. "What happened to the old professor?"
"He retired," said Marigold.
"And who's the new professor?" I asked. New teachers, new knowledge, and approaches to magic – I'm interested.
"Quirinus Quirrell," she replied.
"But wasn't he the Muggle Studies assistant?" Tonks was surprised, as was I, since I wasn't familiar with him at all. Though I had heard from other students that he was a quiet person who preferred to stay in his office rather than go anywhere. That's probably why I'd never met him before. "Do you think he'll be a good teacher?"
"From what I've heard from students who had him in class, he's a strange man with odd habits," she said. "But he did go on a world trip, so he must have learned some skills."
"We'll see," I sighed.
The train continued moving across the country, slowly approaching Hogwarts. The weather was changing slightly, becoming a bit cooler, but not cold enough to say it was truly cold yet. I think this winter will be particularly harsh.
None of us felt like talking. Everyone just wanted to sit quietly and reflect on their own thoughts. I got back to working on my spell. It was pretty much ready, but before demonstrating it, I needed to run some theoretical checks to ensure it wouldn't turn out to be ineffective or incomprehensible in practice.
Night slowly descended as Hogwarts finally appeared in the distance. The train's speed gradually decreased, and the conductor announced over the loudspeaker that it was time to change into our robes. This was a reminder to the second years and the incoming first years to switch out of their regular clothes.
At the Hogsmeade station, the train came to a complete stop, and students slowly began to disembark. I immediately noticed a giant with a large lamp, drawing the attention of many.
"First years!" he boomed. "Over here! To me! Come closer!"
The first years indeed gathered around him. Among them, I quickly spotted Justin and Hermione, along with two other girls to whom I had introduced the magical world.
"HARRY! OVER HERE!" Hagrid called out to one of the children. It seemed that this was indeed Harry Potter.
The four of us got into a carriage, which moved slowly, powered by thestrals. The first years, meanwhile, were heading to the castle across the lake, likely receiving all sorts of impressions. Maybe they'd even catch a glimpse of the kraken that resides in the lake.
Entering the Great Hall, we headed for the seats at the far end of the table, closest to the exit. On the way, I nodded to other seventh years and some sixth years I had met before. In return, I received nods, waves, or simply smiles.
Nymphadora went to her table, while we sat down and waited for the Sorting to begin and for the food to appear. At the staff table, the same familiar faces were seated, except for a few. Quirrell had appeared, looking somewhat jittery. Snape kept his gaze on him for most of the time, clearly suspecting something. I'd heard rumors that Snape had once vied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position but was always denied.
I spotted Dumbledore, who had slightly changed his style, becoming even more colorful. Our eyes met, and I nodded to him. The headmaster returned the nod. At that moment, Professor McGonagall emerged from a side door, making her way toward the first years. For a while, nothing happened, but I noticed Hagrid entering the Great Hall through a side door.
"It's about to start," I said to Isolda and Dorsani.
And sure enough, the door opened, and Professor McGonagall entered, followed by a group of first years. They crowded together, eagerly examining their surroundings and whispering amongst themselves. The other students watched them closely, wondering who would be sorted into which house.
At the staff table, a stool was already placed in front of the headmaster with the Sorting Hat perched on top. The hat occasionally twitched, smacking its lips. It was covered in enough grime, but no one seemed eager to clean it.
Professor McGonagall gave her speech to the students, then began calling them by name. The blonde boy who had briefly entered my compartment turned out to be Malfoy. He must be Narcissa Malfoy's son. Unsurprisingly, he was immediately sorted into Slytherin. I also saw Daphne Greengrass, who was likewise sorted into Slytherin, along with several other students.
Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor, which was somewhat surprising. But knowing her, I could tell that her first year wouldn't be easy. Though I think she'll manage.
"Harry Potter," McGonagall called out.
The boy timidly stepped forward and sat on the stool. The hat was placed on his head, covering his eyes just like it did for all the other students. This time, however, the sorting took longer than usual. Potter was clearly muttering something under his breath, but his lip movements were unreadable.
"Gryffindor!" the hat finally shouted.
The Gryffindor table immediately erupted in cheers. The twins even shouted, "Potter's with us! Potter's with us!" It was as if Harry Potter's presence alone instantly made them winners of some competition.
The boy was immediately swarmed by second-year students, his classmates, and even the older students. Though, to be fair, he was indeed a famous figure. Some shops even had entire sections dedicated to him and his legacy. Despite all the attention, he clearly felt uncomfortable. But that's how it goes.
The commotion eventually settled down, and the headmaster silenced the hall with magic. It was powerful.
He then went on to explain the school rules, what could and couldn't be done. I was surprised to hear that the third-floor corridor was off-limits this year. I wonder what happened, as I don't remember anything like that ever happening during my time at the school.
Afterward, the feast began. It was clear that many eyes were on Potter, and everyone wanted to talk to him. The boy handled it quite well, showing no signs of panic.
"It's still fascinating how he survived the Unforgivable Curse," Isolda mused. "What do you think?"
"I don't know," I replied. "But I'm sure magic was definitely involved."
"Really?" she smirked.
"Heh."
After the feast, the house prefects gathered the first years and took them to the common room. I decided to take a walk around the nighttime Hogwarts, reflecting on my plans. There's only one year left of school, and I have much to accomplish within that year. First, I need to keep studying magic. Then, I mustn't forget my promise to the headmaster – to reach mastery within this academic year. These are my two biggest goals. As for what comes after? I don't know. I haven't really thought about it yet, and it's not the time for that.
As I climbed to the highest floor, I saw the headmaster standing there, gazing off into the distance. Instead of stepping away, I approached him.
"A beautiful night, isn't it, Timothy?" he asked.
"Yes," I nodded. "Perfect for Astronomy."
The sky was indeed perfectly clear. The stars and moon seemed alluring, hinting at the mysteries they might hold. Astronomy is indeed a fascinating and essential subject for any wizard aspiring to be among the elite.
"Timothy," the headmaster addressed me again. "How's the spell development coming along?"
"You know, Headmaster," I began, "it's going quite well. I'm almost finished. I just need to complete a few more theoretical checks."
"Really?" he looked at me. "Then, when will you be ready to demonstrate the results?"
"I'll need another week or two," I replied after some thought. And indeed, I would need about that much time to complete all the checks.
"Then, Mr. Jody," the headmaster said with a smile, "I'll expect you in my office on the 15th of September in the evening. I'll give you the password later."
"Alright," I exhaled. With that kind of deadline, my work might become more efficient. "I think I'll manage."
"You will manage, Mr. Jody," the headmaster nodded and returned to gazing at the night sky.
At that moment, a solitary cry echoed in the air – some kind of bird. But within a moment, I saw a fiery phoenix land on the headmaster's shoulder.
"Good night, Timothy," he wished me and headed off on his own business.
I stood there for a little while longer, then also returned to the Gryffindor common room. Along the way, I ran into Percy Weasley, who seemed like he wanted to say something to me, but as soon as I gave him a questioning look, he immediately fell silent. Some moral enforcer, huh?
The following two weeks were indeed intense, as I truly dived deep into testing and refining the spell. With access to the professors, I could ask for their guidance, particularly in directing me to the right literature. That's how I studied Alfred Mainwolf's book, which was considered one of the best on the full cycle of spell development.
After uploading it to my archive, analyzing it, and doing some additional research, I found several potential ways to further optimize the spell, which I incorporated into my own creation.
I liked the result because it was efficient and low in energy consumption. Let's just say, I'm very pleased with my progress. Other students didn't seem particularly interested in what I was doing. Perhaps only Hermione, who occasionally approached me with various questions. I tried to answer them as thoroughly as possible, so the girl could easily understand everything. And she did make some progress.
Justin ended up in Hufflepuff, so I hadn't seen him yet. Our interests, paths, and lives in general are just too different. Naturally, I hadn't neglected my other lessons. But since we're seventh years now, the education process is a bit different. We no longer have traditional homework but rather various projects and research tasks we need to complete. Some were individual, while others were group projects. I liked the individual ones more because I had complete control over the entire process. At the same time, group projects allowed for more room for cooperation. This made the group projects more challenging and required more attention. There was one downside, though – we couldn't choose our groups. The professors assigned us randomly, which was useful.
Harry Potter had already managed to stand out in those two weeks. During the first flying lesson, he displayed remarkable talent with a broomstick, saving Neville Longbottom's "Remembrall." It seemed like he was about to get punished, but no – McGonagall introduced him to the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, and he was accepted. This was a blatant violation of school rules, but no one protested… maybe only the Slytherin first years.
Then, one night, he and his friends – Hermione among them – went somewhere and returned with expressions of mild panic. When I tried to find out what had happened, I only managed to get a hint from Granger about the third floor.
With a slow stroke of the quill, I finished the final rune flourish, completing the description of the spell I'd been developing. After giving it one last look and scanning the entire text with my eyes, I nodded in satisfaction. In theory, everything should work perfectly.
An invitation from the headmaster arrived during lunch while I was studying new information about Runes, which I'd obtained from the Restricted Section of the library. It contained the time and the password I'd need to enter his office.
And so, I found myself standing in front of the gargoyle, watching as it shifted aside. Climbing the stairs, I entered the headmaster's office. Dumbledore greeted me and invited me to sit in the chair in front of him.
"How are things?" the headmaster asked.
"Thank you, they're going well," I replied. "I'm learning."
"That's good," he nodded, then turned his gaze to the paper in my hands. "I see you're ready to present your spell, aren't you?"
"Yes, Headmaster," I said and handed him the paper.
Dumbledore gently took the paper and immediately began scanning my scribbles with his eyes, occasionally pausing in thought or nodding in approval. When he finished reading, he set the paper aside.
"Hmm," he exhaled. "Well, what can I say? Overall, the theoretical development exceeds my expectations. Far exceeds them. Would you like to test it now?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Don't worry, Timothy, if anything goes wrong, I'll gladly assist."
"Thank you, Headmaster."
I drew my wand, mentally prepared myself, and began tracing the necessary rune formula for the spell, adding verbal activators as well. The entire process took a little over thirty seconds, and then a small sphere slowly shot out of my wand, entering my body. So far, everything was proceeding exactly as I had envisioned.
After a minute, I received a stream of information, detailing everything about my body and my organs. With just a glance, I saw a massive amount of information about my physical state. I would need to analyze this data as quickly as possible.
"Excellent," nodded the headmaster. "Well?"
"It worked perfectly," I exhaled.
"Splendid," he nodded. "Very well done. Now, the next step will be to choose your Animagus forms. There's a fast way, and there's a slow way. If you still plan to keep your promise, the fast way is your best option."
"And what does the fast way entail?" I asked. I was familiar with the slow method, having encountered its description in books, along with the steps. But no one had really talked about a shortcut. Though there were some vague memories.
"It's simple," the headmaster exhaled. "Magical mushrooms can help you delve into yourself and understand which animals you have a connection with."
"Isn't that dangerous?" I asked.
"No," Dumbledore nodded. "It's an old method, but effective, though not particularly popular these days. And Hagrid can help you with this. He's one of the best experts in magical Britain on various magical fungi with such effects."
"Our gamekeeper?" I was surprised.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "He even wrote a book on magical plants, which is quite popular in certain countries."
"I see," I exhaled. If this can truly help me, then why not? Though I'll need to prepare for it. Thankfully, there are books on this as well, as mushroom magic can be considered more of a ritualistic magic. And ritual magic requires more complex and strict rules, while offering greater flexibility in terms of actions and paths to achieve results. This magic is also considered ancient and was widely practiced among various tribes and nations long before Rome became famous."
"Very well," the headmaster nodded and quickly scribbled something on a small piece of paper. "Take this to Hagrid, and he'll explain everything to you."
I nodded and tucked the paper into my pocket. I'll head to him right after this and see what he has to say.
"Thank you, Headmaster," I nodded. "What should I do after I complete the procedure with Hagrid?"
"You'll know which animals are best suited for your transfiguration," he said. "Then, it's just a matter of technique and practice."
"I understand. Thank you again, Headmaster."
"Don't mention it," he nodded. "All the best."
I left his office and headed straight for Hagrid's hut, which was clearly visible. Most of the students made way for me as I passed by. Being a seventh-year and a professor's assistant comes with many privileges at Hogwarts. Respect from others is one of them, as not many fully complete their studies and have a "track record" like mine.
Hagrid was sitting on a thick, dry log, carving something with a small knife. I wondered what he was making.
"Mr. Hagrid," I addressed him. "Good evening."
"Ah, good evening, Mr. Jody," he replied, setting aside his work. "What brings you to me?"
"Here," I said, handing him the note the headmaster had given me.
"Ah," Hagrid murmured as he slowly read through the note. "Got it. Yeah, the headmaster is a great man. He did the right thing sending you to me. Take a seat."
I sat down, waiting to hear what he would suggest next. I truly had no idea, but I expected something interesting.
"So, here's the deal," the gamekeeper began. "Mushrooms – they're a wonderful thing. But to do everything right, we'll need to prepare. The best time to do it is on the 23rd of September, during the full moon. Yeah."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"But we need to prepare before that too," Hagrid said. "If you want, you can write down what needs to be done."
I didn't need to be told twice.
"So, you can only drink water at body temperature and hot mint tea," the half-giant began. "The tea should only be drunk at seven in the morning, two in the afternoon, and nine in the evening. Each cup should hold seven ounces. The tea should boil for seven minutes and cool for seven minutes."
I wrote everything down on the paper.
"You'll also need to drink water seven times a day, seven ounces each time," Hagrid added. "What you eat is important too. At seven in the morning, you'll need to eat seven pieces of venison. You can't eat anything else. At two o'clock, you'll eat seven pieces of lamb. At nine, seven pieces of salmon."
"A meat diet?" I asked.
"Yep," nodded the gamekeeper. "And yeah, you can't eat anything at other times. You'll come to me fifteen minutes before each meal. I'll take care of everything else."
"How much will this cost?" I asked him.
"Nothing," Hagrid waved his hand. "The headmaster is a great man, and how can I charge someone he's sent to me?"
Clearly, Hagrid is a big fan of the headmaster. But that's fine by me. I have no issues with the diet itself since I was expecting something like this. The only thing I understand is that after the next few days, I'll be completely full from such meals and won't be able to look at them for a long time. But no matter, I'm willing to make that sacrifice.
Thanking the gamekeeper for his offer, I returned to the Gryffindor common room, where I played a game of chess with Isolda. Hermione watched us but didn't interrupt. After I lost the game, she asked me to explain a topic from Transfiguration to her.
When I finished explaining, she happily ran back to her room to continue working on her Transfiguration homework.
"That girl is quite curious," Isolda remarked as she reset the chess pieces. "I wouldn't have dared approach a seventh-year for advice."
"Yeah," I agreed with her. "It's just that I knew her before she came to Hogwarts."
"Really?" she nodded. "How?"
"My mom used to take me to the dentist every summer," I said calmly. "And it just so happened that my dentist is Hermione's father."
"And what are dentists?" Isolda asked with some curiosity.
"They're doctors who work with teeth," I explained.
"Hmm," was all the girl said. "Got it."
We played another game, which I won this time. The other Gryffindor students were busy with their own things, but none of them dared to interrupt the distinguished seventh years with questions or requests.
The next morning started with breakfast at Hagrid's hut. The giant had really prepared. He had the tea brewed and the meat cooked. Once he set the food down, we began eating right away. Hagrid was devouring something from his massive bowl. When I finished my breakfast, I felt pleasantly full. It was a strange feeling.
Lunch and then dinner followed the same routine. Nymphadora asked why I wasn't in the Great Hall during meals. I answered honestly, saying I had to follow a specific diet for a ritual. That immediately shut down any further questions, as it's considered impolite to ask what kind of ritual a wizard is preparing for.
And so, the days passed one by one. Hermione's birthday came and went without any celebration, as no one knew it was her birthday, or perhaps no one cared enough to celebrate. I was the only one who gave her a small gift – a book filled with various spells for every occasion. The girl was overjoyed because she loves books more than most people.
I only met Justin once, and that happened by chance. He hadn't been actively seeking me out, which surprised me at first, but I eventually pushed the thought aside. He asked me to help him send a letter to his parents, as no technology works at the school unless properly enchanted.
The 23rd of September arrived, and I felt a slight nervousness. It wasn't the mushroom ritual that scared me but rather what would come after. How well would the ritual go? What animals would be revealed to me? I hoped there wouldn't be anything undesirable.
At seven in the evening, I was already at Hagrid's hut, fully prepared for what was to come.
"Come on in," he said, inviting me inside.
The gamekeeper's hut was exactly as I had imagined it, only slightly larger to accommodate his size. Various herbs hung from the ceiling, along with dried meats, large utensils, cozy blankets, and bones scattered around. I had a brief suspicion about whose bones these might be, but when I saw the giant dog, everything became clear. The dog was indeed massive, fitting its owner perfectly.
"Take a seat," he said. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," I replied, exhaling. "Let's begin."
He placed a small cup on the table, which contained a strange liquid of green color with silvery streaks. Then he pulled out a small drum with black leather and some kind of dried growth in the center. In his other hand, there was a small bone with intricate carvings.
Boom.
He struck the drum for the first time, and I felt a light mental wave gently touch my mind. The wave retreated, but I still reinforced my mental defenses. I wasn't afraid because it was well known that delving into a wizard's mind under the influence of magical substances was a very foolish thing to do. The mind under the influence of magical drugs could easily destroy the intruder. So, I had no real concerns.
Boom.
He struck the drum again and said:
"Drink it all down!"
Boom.
"Thousand devils!"
Boom.
"Gray horse."
Boom.
"Black fiend."
Boom.
"Goo-goom-m-m-m!" he chanted, breaking some strange rhyme.
I took the cup, glanced into it, and immediately downed the liquid. The sweet liquid slid down my throat and slowly settled in my stomach.
At that moment, the drum's rhythm changed to a steady beat.
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.
"Goo-goom-m-m-m."
Hagrid continued his chant, swaying his torso back and forth. Surprisingly, I began to mimic his movements, chanting along with him: "Hmm-m-m."
Swaying my body, I began to lose my connection to the outside world, slowly descending deeper within myself. But this wasn't the usual dive into the Archive. No, I was sinking deeper and deeper, feeling something similar to what I had experienced when I first arrived in this body. Suddenly, a massive rock appeared before my eyes, surrounded by a tumultuous ocean. Waves crashed against sharp peaks, forming a jagged necklace around most of the rock. Yet, I heard no sound of the ocean or the waves striking the rock. Only a deep humming filled the air.
On the rock stood a large cross with a man nailed to it. As soon as I wished to be there, I found myself in front of the cross. The face I saw startled and even frightened me. It was the face of Timothy Jody. Our eyes met, and I saw deep hatred and a desire to tear me apart.
To dispel my lingering doubts, I descended a set of stairs, which I hadn't noticed before, toward the water. Glancing down, I saw my old face—the face I had before I arrived in this new world and new body.
Returning to the cross, I saw the true Timothy Jody—or so I thought—jerk toward me, filled with aggression. What should I do? The answer came instantly. I could kill him and take everything that was his, or I could release him and give him everything that I now possessed.
My choice was simple. Perhaps someone else would have hesitated, but not me. I wanted to live, to revel in magic. So…
"Everything that's yours is mine."
I whispered this slowly and approached the body on the cross. In an instant, its position shifted to face me, making it easier to act. Our gazes met once again, but I saw nothing new in his eyes—only hatred. There was no weapon in sight. In the next moment, I felt a weight on my belt. Looking down, I saw a strange dagger with a white handle and a black blade. Drawing the dagger without hesitation, I plunged it into Timothy Jody's chest. Again and again. I stabbed him again and again. His eyes continued to burn with hatred, fury, and aggression, but slowly, even that began to fade until I was left staring into empty, lifeless eyes.
Exhaling, I turned away, feeling a strange sense of relief. The water around the rock was calming. When I looked back again, the cross and the body were gone. A crack sounded in the earth beneath me, and the next moment my stomach lurched as I was pulled downward at an incredible speed. It felt like I was falling, and within seconds, it all stopped.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw the sky, dotted with white clouds. My body felt large and powerful. I could sense every part of myself, each aspect hammering away in my mind like a chisel on stone. There were also strange magical sensations that I couldn't yet fully understand. Focusing, I saw a tiny bug crawling in the grass, though I remained high in the clouds. Shifting my vision back to normal, I opened my beak. Magic surged, and with a mighty bird's screech, a sonic blast burst forth, tearing through everything in its path. But before I could process more, my consciousness began to slip away again.
Darkness. Then light again.
This time, I found myself in a bipedal body. A skeleton… strange, if I'm honest. A deep fascination washed over me, one I couldn't explain. In an instant, I felt as though I held not just countless lives in my hands, but the lives of everything and everyone. It was as if, with one swing of my scythe, I could end it all. Along with this sensation came the understanding that my power had no limits.
I wondered whose mind I had entered, but soon enough, I was dragged back into the darkness. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that this creature's interest in me had grown.
Light once more. Now I was at an incredible depth. I sensed a body, though it wasn't complicated, but the magical energy I felt was another matter. Along with that, I gained an intuitive understanding of how to control water—how to create it, and what could be done with it. But then darkness consumed me once more, and instead of finding myself in the bodies of massive, unfathomable leviathans with strange magical powers, I slipped into the bodies of ordinary animals—like a woodland warbler, a gorilla, and a cleaner fish. Their physical structures didn't make much of an impression on my mind.
After that, there was silence. My mind rested, but my consciousness remained active. It was a strange state. I still sensed the interest of the creature with the scythe, but that too faded away as if it had never been. However, I now understood that the first three creatures I had encountered were chthonic monsters, the likes of which are spoken of in legend.
Recalling the forms I had experienced, I searched for familiar references in the literature. The first creature, the bird whose mind I had entered, strongly resembled the Roc—a mythical creature known for its immense power.
The second was something truly terrifying. A skeleton with a scythe and the power to end lives… it could only be Death itself. Somehow, I had entered Death's mind and emerged unscathed. Unbelievable.
The third mythical creature was Charybdis, the embodiment of a voracious, all-consuming whirlpool.
Each of these creatures possessed extraordinary magical abilities far beyond the reach of any ordinary human. Of all of them, Death's power was surely the most terrifying. I never would have imagined it was possible to step into the mind of Death. I wondered—would I gain their powers if I learned to transform into them? Probably, but it was best not to take that risk just yet. On the other hand, simply mastering the transformations into the second group of creatures—the more ordinary ones—would suffice to achieve mastery. That would be much simpler, as they had no particular magical abilities.
My thoughts slowed to a halt, and I drifted into sleep, allowing my mind and consciousness to fully process and understand everything that had happened recently.
I woke to the sound of something metallic clattering onto the floor. Opening my eyes, I found myself staring at a wooden ceiling adorned with various dried herbs. I was lying in a bed, covered with a thick, warm, woolen blanket.
Turning my head, I saw Hagrid picking up a metal pot and muttering under his breath.
"O-oh," I groaned, feeling a faint, throbbing pain in my head, like the aftermath of drinking vodka and chasing it with wine.
"Good morning," Hagrid greeted me, turning toward the bed. "I'll bring you some water."
I felt awful. My stomach was churning, my head ached, and there was a foul taste in my mouth, like I'd swallowed something rancid. Overall, not good. Hagrid returned with a large mug of water and a bucket.
"Here," he said, handing both to me.
I drank the water, and instantly something exploded in my stomach. It gurgled, and I felt the nausea rise. In the next moment, I was vomiting into the bucket. The stench was overwhelming. Hagrid, ever prepared, had opened the window to air out the hut immediately.
After taking another sip, I vomited again, though less this time. Another sip, and once more I retched. This continued until the nausea subsided and the pain dulled. My body finally relaxed, and even my headache began to fade. Instead, a feeling of exhaustion took over.
I handed the bucket back to Hagrid and collapsed against the pillow, trying to regain my strength. I wasn't sure what he did with the contents of the bucket, but he returned without it.
"How are you feeling?" the half-giant asked.
"Not great," I admitted. "I'm not sure how to describe it."
"That's always how it is," Hagrid said. He handed me a small, faceted glass and poured some liquid into it. "Here, drink this."
I drank what he gave me, feeling the hot alcohol slide into my stomach, bringing with it a sudden wave of relief. The world immediately seemed brighter, and energy flowed back into my body, washing away the fatigue.
"What is this?" I asked, handing the glass back to him.
"Honey and St. John's wort tincture," Hagrid said proudly. "Made it myself."
"Tasty stuff," I said, adjusting my robe.
The surge of energy and my newfound mood hinted that it was time to wrap things up and leave.
"Thank you, Mr. Hagrid, for all your help," I said, straightening my cloak. "By the way, how long was I asleep?"
"Just the night," Hagrid waved his hand. "But no need to thank me. Dumbledore asked me, and I couldn't say no to such a great man."
"I'll thank the headmaster as well, then," I nodded to him. "But still, thank you for everything."
"Go on now," Hagrid chuckled, waving me off.
I left the gamekeeper's hut and was immediately greeted by a cool breeze blowing across my face. I wondered what time it was.
"Tempus."
The spell showed me the time, and I nodded somewhat displeased. Breakfast had already ended, and lunch wouldn't be for another two hours. I could go to class, but I wasn't in the mood. Seventh-year students, after all, had the privilege of skipping most lessons. How nice it was to be able to take the N.E.W.T.s at any moment; missing a day was no big deal for me.
Since the students were in their classes, I made my way to the bathroom, cleaned myself up, and found that the effects of the alcohol had worn off. Though I still felt a little tired, nothing too serious lingered.