27 First Summer

I sat on the bed staring at the wall in thought.

Stencilled on the wall next to the window was the image of a light bulb with an atom in it, and underneath it, the words 'genius' written in multiple colours. Something that I had discovered just now, having just returned to the orphanage, which I assumed some of the younger kids had done when I left for what they assumed was a 'prestigious' private school. Honestly it was a touching gesture, especially since the sisters allowed it to remain.

Though, obviously, it wasn't really a focus of my thought. No, my mind was focused on the events that transpired at the Flamels, specifically those after I stopped vomiting after regaining the ability to feel emotions.

It had been tense, very tense.

Admittedly most, if not all, of that tension was from me sweating as I emotionally comprehended that I was sitting in the same room as the guy whose immortality device I just stole. That tension remained throughout the reassurances given to me by Pernell Flamel or the apologies she forced out of Nicklaus.

At least until Nicklaus just went and said, in the east caring tone possible, that he didn't really care that I stole the stone.

That he didn't need that 'failure' anyway.

That had cut the tension right down to nothing, insofar as it had sent it so high that it went into space and imploded into nothingness.

Of course, Pernell had immediately told him to apologise for being so 'inconsiderate of someone's emotional state, showing that she had also known about the stone. I, in a state of tension free nirvana, had waved it off as being fine before casually apologising since that had seemed to match the mood in the room. That somehow led to Nicklaus dropping the next emotional bomb by offering to become my sponsor in the same casual way.

Obviously, this sponsorship meant that I'd actually have to return something, preferably in the form of samples of research or whatever interesting information I felt like sharing. Charity didn't help innovation apparently, as Nicklaus had 'helpfully' informed me.

He had then also informed me what I'd get from that sponsorship, namely the removal of the trace from my wand, his occasional guidance (though not total tutoring, substantial difference) more medical checks to reveal the changes in my body, possibly fixing the unwanted one's.

That last one especially was something that I was really tempted by.

Because yes, my body was fucked up. I don't know whether it was due to pure hubris or due to my body having a profound effect on my decision making (like Nicklaus suggested) but it really didn't matter. What mattered was that I needed several supplements to stay healthy, had a compass for a nose bone, had my pain receptors directly plugged into rage instead of fear and also had a whole host of other things I didn't, and couldn't, notice on top of everything.

"Fuuuck," I fall back onto the bed with my hands covering my face, forcing down the cocktail of emotions that threatened to burst forth at remembering the list filled with detailed notes on how messed up my body is.

Just when I'd thought I had everything figured out this shit happens.

What the hell am I meant to do? Do I accept the sponsorship? Do I deny it? Do I trust the Flamels? Is the stone a trap? Do I want to use the stone? Do I-

I take a deep, calming, breath.

The knowledge that the Nicklaus Flamel had was unquestionable. He had taken what was a better part of fifteen minutes to diagnose everything wrong with me and had in that same time roughly figured out what I did to myself. Even excluding that, the man would still have accrued a great amount of magical knowledge on the sheer dint of being around seven hundred years old. Something that was far more significant due to the large amount of lost magical knowledge and the fact that, unlike non-magical knowledge, ancient magical knowledge wasn't truly inferior compared to modern knowledge.

Guidance from someone like that was invaluable and more than worth mere 'samples' of my discoveries. A trade that seemed heavily in favour of me. Yet it was that same unbalanced trade that made the choice so frustratingly difficult.

Because I didn't see what he was getting out of the deal.

He had no need for money from me, nor did he need me for connection and he most definitely knew more about rituals than me let alone any other magical subject. Hell, he probably knew leagues more than me when it came to muggle stuff too, what with him using medical terms that I had vague recollections of hearing in medical dramas.

It felt like a trap. Especially when he went on another rant about Voldemort and how 'a teacher should just put down their own rogue students' after that. As if he was telling me that, if I accepted, he'd put me down if I did something evil.

Or maybe I was reading too much into it. I didn't know.

Rather, I couldn't know. Not with the cavalier attitude shown by Nicklaus when he bulldozed through sensitive topics and the way he went on rants about random tangents. I couldn't know if he was serious or not because he was, seemingly, never serious. Then there was also the concern that he might, with his prior experiences, figure out that I'm not a normal reincarnation…

Shifting my hand from my eyes I traced the outline of my face until I reached my hairline, one hand grabbing a fistful and the other tracing the tiny bump the feather would grow out of.

"Tomorrow," I whisper to myself, "I've just returned tonight, I'll decide tomorrow."

I already had the tensest doctors appointment I'd ever have today, everything else could wait till a fresh new tomorrow.

Though I would be attempting to circumvent the trace tomorrow anyways, what with the first two or three days being grace periods in terms of warnings from the ministry. Whether I accepted the sponsorship or not… well I'd see when it come to that.

With one final frustrated exhale, I slowly rested my head on the pillow.

-----------

I carefully stared at the younger nun before me.

When I'd come down to breakfast I had noticed that a couple of the nuns, who I remember always being there to oversee breakfasts, weren't there so, of course, I'd asked what was up with that.

"They've gone to visit sister Agatha," was the answer I got, that led to me asking the obvious question.

"Where's sister Agatha?"

"She's in the hospital," and so I currently stared at the relatively young twenty-something nun.

"Why," I finally began, pushing my breakfast of bland porridge away, my appetite gone, "is she in the hospital, ma'am?

"I don't know," from the look on her face it was obvious that she was discontent with that fact, but she quickly hid that, "but it's probably nothing that big."

"I see… when are the sisters who've gone to see her come back?"

"Oh, they'll be back a bit late since today's the groceries day," she looked towards the calendar hanging on the dinning room wall to double check, then she looked at me again, "yes, they'll be back by twelve. Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, I just want to have everything unpacked and cleaned before they return," I fibbed, mentally calculating the time I had.

About one and a half hours. Just about enough time to test if I can bypass the trace, but nowhere enough to do the daily occlumency practice, before the other nuns return and I'm able to question them.

"You're a good kid you know that?" the sister praises with a happy smile on her face.

"It's nothing," I wave off, somewhat awkward at being praised for a lie before quickly getting up.

"Going to clean your room?" she asks, to which I nod, "well, make sure to actually put things where they're meant to go instead of stuffing them in out of sight places and just calling it a day."

"Got it," I felt that there was a story behind that, but I wasn't getting into that now, "well, have a good morning sister."

With that I was off to my room, the sisters barely heard as I fast walked out the room. Once there I jammed the desk small desk chair under the handle of the door, stopping anyone opening it. Better that I get into trouble for that than get punished exposing magic.

With one final test, to make sure that the door wouldn't open, I drew the curtains and finally went to my trunk and pulled out the ingredients and tools. Specifically a small silver bowl 'borrowed' from the room of requirements, a paint brush, a phial full of iron shavings, a cheap compass and the shanker (the knife being desperately in need of upgrading or replacing at this point).

Like most of my plans, this started with a ritual. One that was quite different compared to the one's that I'd done up until now, in that it was more ritualised actions than the ritual circle style.

Speaking of ritualised actions… I picked up the knife and bowl, placing the bowl on the floor in front of me and took a moment to recall the exact words.

With a swish of moving air, and a twinge or rage, the knife enters an inch into my arm and just as quickly it's out, letting a steady trickle of viscous red fluid pour into the bowl, "ᚴᚢᚱᛋᛁᛏ ᛋᛁᛚᚢᛁᚱ, ᛒᚬᛁᛋᚬᚾ ᚦᛁᛋ ᛚᛁᚠᛁ ᛁᛋᛋᛁᚾᚴᛁ (cursed silver, poison this life essence)."

The moment the words leave my mouth the, still increasing, blood in the bowl begins hissing and steaming as more enters. Eventually, once the bowl is almost full, the blood suddenly shifts into a sky blue and stops fizzling.

The second that happens I immediately withdraw my arm, quickly putting a cloth over the hole I made in it, and dump the iron shavings into the bowls, "ᛘᛁᚱᚴᛁᛚᛁᛋᛋ ᛁᚱᚬᚾ, ᛋᚢᛒᚢᛁᚱᛏ ᚦᛁᛋ ᛁᚴᚼᚬᛦ (merciless iron, subvert this ichor)."

This time the change was less violent, with no hissing or bubbling, as the blue of the blood slowly began darkening. Seeing that I got up and moved the furniture, so I'd have no dripping issues, while I waited and once that was done I retrieved the brush and returned to the bowl.

The blood had turned a glossy, almost black, blue colour. The precise colour I needed.

Carefully picking up the bowl I moved to the north wall and, using the paintbrush, carefully draw an angled Fehu rune, "ᛋᛁᚴᚢᚱᛁᛏᛁ (security)," an Algiz rune angled the other way and some distance to the right, "ᛅᚾᛏ ᛒᚱᚬᛏᛁᚴᛏᚬᚾ (and protection)," and finally an upside down Perthro in between and below the other two, "ᚦᚱᚬᚢᚴᚼ ᛋᛁᚴᚱᛁᚴᛁ (through secrecy)."

This repeated thrice more, one for each wall, as I went clockwise around the room.

Once I was back to the north wall, I drew a circle that surrounded the runes already drawn, "ᚠᚬᚱ ᚦᛁᛋ ᛏᛁᚱᚱᛁᛏᚬᚱᛁ (for this territory)."

Again, I repeated the step for each wall, still going clockwise around the room, until once again I was at the north wall. Now for the hardest part.

With extreme care I drew an arc from the centre of the circle to the outer perimeter, just barely avoiding the rune, and then another back to the centre to enclose the rune. Repeating this twice more had all the runes in the circle enclosed in the petals of an inverted Celtic knot, "ᚠᚱᚬᛘ ᚢᛁᛏᚴᚼᛁᛋ (from witches)."

Then another three repeats to overlay the inverted knot with a proper one to fill the void space in the circle, "ᛅᚾᛏ ᚢᛁᛋᛅᚱᛏᛋ (and wizards)"

One final time I repeated the actions around the room, and as I finished the last wall with the last remnants of the 'paint' a silent 'whump' reverberated through the room and I finally relaxed as the ritual went through without issue. The ritual was… well, not simple but not that complicated either... it's just that I'd never used it before.

See, the fresh blood of a magical tainted by silver and iron, both potent anti magic/wizardry metals, to serve as a base and sacrifice. Fehu, Algiz and Perthro to guide the power generated through symbolism to keep the territory, represented by the circle, obfuscated with the dual Celtic knots to target witches and wizards. Finally, the three clockwise repetitions on the four wall to represent normality in the confined space.

All together combining to, hopefully, essentially making it so that any form of magical monitoring would 'see' anything happening in the room as mundane for at least the next twenty four hours. Simple.

But if I was to 'hypothetically' do the same ritual in a magical location, like say 'a magical castle', the whole thing would be thrown off as the three repetitions enforce a 'magical normality' on the rest of the 'anti-magic' symbolism making it all fall apart. Which meant that I'd never be able to use it in Hogwarts, and thus have never tested it before.

But still, since it worked first time, it didn't matter and I could continue with testing. Though, before that I went over to my trunk and pulled out another tool from the room of requirement.

A wand. Specifically, the one I had the most compatibility with out of the ones I found in the room of requirement.

Because of course, in a school filled with children, at least a couple of them lose the most important thing for their education every single year and obviously those wands would go to the 'lost and fond room' that is the room of requirement. Really felt kinda stupid, when I had found that I could get a one from there, for how long it took me to get a spare wand.

Taking a deep breath, I think about what spell I should cast, before realising that I didn't know exactly how much time had passed, "Tempus."

I still had forty minutes till the twelve, according to the time keeping charm, more than enough time to ask the sister for something to eat. I could already feel the hunger for healing the, already scabbed over, hole in my arm.