Chapter 20

On a fine September day, I went to the magical district of London to sell the fruits of my righteous labors. A well-known apothecary gladly bought the entire harvest of HECC without question, a tailor who once sold a scrap of dragon skin gladly took a few rolls of cloth from the web of acromantulas. In general, it was interesting what had happened to them. I flipped through the Grimoire, found a diagram of a loom, and made one.

True, in a very simplified form, transfiguration and charms, just to see the process live, so to speak. It is impossible to call the creation an artifact, because not only were no runes placed, but even the details only gave shape temporarily. Without fixing. Since there was no suitable material except the web, I used it. The effort was just enough to weave a few rolls. After that, the machine became a heap of shavings, sawdust, boards and ropes. The junk from which it had been transformed.

After depositing the money into the account and looking at the sun, I decided to rest for a while. According to the plans, today was set aside for financial matters, and since they were successfully completed before lunch, I went for a walk. Of course, the Magic Quarter is not limited to Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley alone, but to be honest, there is not much to do there. Is there much of interest in a mundane residential area?

There might be something to see for lovers of late medieval entourage and connoisseurs of architecture, but I am not one of them. That's why, after putting on an illusion and light charms of distraction, I went to visit the muggles. Ordinary London is cleaner and more interesting.

I walked slowly, looked around, and caught a glimpse of the poster. Some creative sticker-maker had managed to add some letters so that it turned out to be a swear word. I decided to honor the efforts of an unknown boy and went to read what was being sold. It turned out to be a speed reading course. Ha, yes, I wanted to do it for about five years in my previous life, I even familiarized myself with different methods on the Internet, but somehow it did not work out.

I had a problem with the speed, one hundred and forty words per minute is extremely slow for an adult. In the present life things are better, but not brilliant, still below average, and even banal pronunciation has its place. And in fact, it is enough to suppress it only to already read a third faster. It's decided, I'm going to study. When making the schedule, the time frame took wide, with a reserve, so that two hours in the evening to allocate will not be a problem. Besides, it's only for a few weeks.

The result is amazing. Thanks to occlumency, there were no problems with concentration, perfect memory nullified the so-called regression, it was not difficult to suppress subvocalization, the very pronunciation, it was enough to move the fingers of the hands. But then I had to wean myself from this habit for a week, but honestly, it's a small thing that deserves attention. I had to work on improving my peripheral vision. It's in my head that I can hold very complex images, and my eyes are the most ordinary.

By mid-October, reading the Grimoire had become a leisurely flipping of pages. It's amazing. Why didn't I do it before? I made a mental note to send my sister to such useful courses for mages this summer. Another clear confirmation of the usefulness of using the achievements of muggles.

The Christmas holidays turned into a madhouse. The little girl invited five friends to visit her, and the rest of the guys from the faculty also paid attention to her. They did not forget to visit every weekend, and even on holidays there were not less than a dozen visitors in the house. I felt like a father of many children and a model housewife in one bottle. It is fun and positive, of course, but a little tiring. In the end, I had to take a vacation.

But what practice in household charms, just express course. At the same time solidly expanded knowledge in cooking, which is never unnecessary. In general, I clearly know that there is no useless knowledge, there are only those that have never been useful. But the idea of becoming a house-elf itched in me, despite all the objective arguments against it. I can't build the altar and the Kinship Stone in the next year. At best, I will have time to set all the necessary runes.

There are a lot of them, and the work is very tedious. And then there's the spell room, which requires not much less work. It's my own fault, of course, Mordred's paranoid, but the spirit of perfectionism, the desire for perfection, doesn't allow me to simplify anything. I am constantly thinking of ways to improve or optimize something. Progress moves like a rickety old turtle. A sea turtle. On land.

Winter is over, spring is over, the summer of 1989 is here. Twenty years old now. Just for the record. My sister passed her exams, took a course in speed reading and was sent to France. A month's vacation by the sea in a summer camp for young wizards and witches will do her good.

 In peace and quiet, I completed my years of research and sent the results to the various guilds. Of course, I included an application for membership and paid for the work of the examination committees in advance. Not a cheap pleasure, by the way; I gave a hundred galleons to each of the guilds just so that the Council of Masters would have the courage to question me. If I pass, there will be a practical test and only then a defense of my own project.

While the slow bureaucratic machine of the international guilds is being reviewed, it will take at least six months, and most likely a year, if not two. Although, no, two is still too much. Anyway, there was more time to train and work on the house. Only something lazy came up. I thought about it, thought about it and decided to give in. According to the schedule, my vacation was scheduled for August, but why not take a week off for myself? I went to the Cote d'Azur. I rested, checked on my sister, and had meet a few Muggle girls.

I'm not a monk, really. A young strong body, a not unattractive face and financial solvency, it was hard not to have a resort romance or a girlfriend for the night. And the fact that the girls had nothing to do with magic was only a plus. The girls, after all, had a sexual revolution, a phenomenon completely impossible for wizards. Contrary to popular belief about witches, promiscuity is highly contraindicated for them. And neither are wizards. It's just that witches of the past were not averse to free power.

They drew it from strong emotions, and a naked woman flying across the sky on a broomstick will not leave anyone indifferent. Wizards preferred more radical methods. Mass and not so mass sacrifices. Of course, there is a lot more fuss than shaking one's hair in front of an audience, but the results are worth the effort. Again, the emotions caused by a naked female body are quite different from those caused by a naked male.