Amanda had risen significantly in my estimation after the final touch to her revenge, as she called it. We had, of course, discussed the possibility that both of her "friends" might decide to retaliate physically, but what I hadn't expected at all was her skill at intimidation. And if, instead of the simple fear she'd invoked with a spell that sounded like one of the Unforgivables, she could have easily painted a bloody "smile" with a simple Diffindo (which, by the way, she could cast silently), or simply struck with a banisher.
In the end, I decided to emerge from hiding — who knew what might have happened next — and thereby draw the attention of the lovely ladies, especially one cunning blonde. Just in case, I had even applied one of my experimental techniques beforehand. I tentatively called it "Pressure" — you could call it "Killing Intent" or "Ki Compression"; the name wasn't important. It came about by accident when I was trying to adapt a protective charm against atmospheric pressure for wandless magic. Instead, I created something that generated it. So far, the effect was weak, even when I poured a fair amount of magic into it — but it would do for a field test. But those were details; let's get back to Amanda.
She had calculated everything perfectly and was smiling at me just as perfectly. And I like it when blue-eyed, beautiful blondes smile, and I can't help it. Especially when Miss Rosier's smile seemed unattainable — the rest knew her as something of an ice queen, and that's what they called her. Only with me did she smile sincerely. At least, teenage hormones, broken and affecting the sobriety of thought (thankfully, I'd learned to partially suppress them), did their work, and attention from the fair sex, especially cute, blue-eyed blondes, always charmed and aroused excitement.
Perhaps that's why I viewed her antics more favorably and didn't punish her for deciding to play me. After all, she hadn't plotted anything serious or harmful towards me.
After this little game, our local bubble at Hogwarts once again plunged into calm and quiet. As if all problems and intrigues had been cut off at once, though in reality, I still had global tasks — everything just quieted down. Including Vance's, the Head Boy's, activity. Honestly, I should have found out what they were up to, but I couldn't get closer to them through other people. And I had to admit, the world didn't revolve around me — their affairs might not concern me at all. And as they say, curiosity killed the cat. That is, don't stick your nose into other people's business. Though I confess — I really wanted to, and needed to. My intuition was nagging at me, telling me something was off.
Meanwhile, the first Wizengamot hearing on the Sirius Black case review had taken place. Father had managed to postpone it to the next session. I don't know if it was related, but as Draco wrote to me, Minister Fudge himself and his wife had dropped by for dinner at our place. He also wrote that Father had been home very rarely lately. That was the most important part of his letters, as Draco was more interested in school, Slytherin, and exchanging stories. He especially liked anything pompous and arrogant in my stories. I remembered when I told such stories in person, he'd get that arrogant smirk of a smug little git with approving nods. Pfft-ha.
Mother, at my request, kept me informed. That's how I learned how Father managed to first delay the case by a week, simply by raising the issue of owl post slowness at the Wizengamot session and proposing a bill to create a faster Floo network communication system.
Such a system had apparently been available before, but unlike Floo travel (where the word "network" reflected the essence — due to the short range of this travel method, fireplaces were literally connected like a web), global-scale Floo communication was unavailable. It could be set up locally, but it was expensive, complicated, and illegal, as the Floo Network was managed by the relevant Ministry department. At most, one could communicate through a fireplace using a spell, but remember the distance limitations.
In short, this maneuver managed to occupy the entire session, postponing the case review. But when the smaller Wizengamot council approved this topic, and the Supreme Mugwump added the corresponding issue to the agenda as mandatory for the next session, Father had to use all his connections, bribe everyone, to gather votes to delay the case by two months — due to lack of materials and deadline issues.
In the end, the Lords of the Wizengamot and other lesser members voted to postpone the hearing for two months, solely to gather additional information from archives and witnesses. However, at the very next session, Dumbledore managed to shorten this period.
More precisely, not him personally, but his supporter, who stated that there weren't that many materials in the archives, and the necessary information could be gathered within a month. The rest could be determined during the review itself, and then at the retrial of Sirius Black, if the case gained new momentum. In short, this initiative was supported by almost all Wizengamot members loyal to the Headmaster, including his entire faction of loyalists, as well as most neutrals. Yes… Dumbledore was purposefully and with full force trying to achieve Sirius's release as quickly as possible.
That he would relatively easily manage to free the Azkaban prisoner was obvious. But I didn't care about that — the main thing was that he didn't manage to do it too soon.
Meanwhile, I was preparing for Halloween, or rather, Samhain. I was about to perform a ritual from the Vassat chain for the first time on my own, and I'd been preparing for this event for over two weeks, never once regretting my choice of Ancient Runes as an elective.
Systematized knowledge from a teacher, even in a small group, was absorbed much more easily than studying haphazardly on my own. Plus, I was learning to apply alchemical schematics — finally, my knowledge of runes and ritualistics was sufficient. But that wasn't so important now. What mattered was the ritual to be performed right in the forest.
It took considerable effort to convince my mother in letters that I was ready and that it would benefit me. Because this time, the ritual had to be performed from start to finish, completely independently. Well, if I wanted maximum results. Its effectiveness when performed alone nearly doubled. So I was going to get maximum efficiency! Period!
***
1990, October 31st
Another condition of the ritual was its performance in nature, preferably in a forest, ideally one with a heightened magical background. According to the records, the larger and more "magical" the forest, the stronger the ritual's effect, as there was more energy there, especially with a natural spectrum.
That's why our small group was now making its way along one of the paths on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I was accompanied by Cassius, Dexter, and Graham. And also — somewhat unexpectedly for them, but completely planned by me — Isabel Nox. She was well-versed in ritualistics, and although she, like the others, wouldn't be allowed near the actual ritual, her on-site consultation could be invaluable. What if questions arose? And she was the daughter of a Master Ritualist.
Also, as I'd learned through my father, the Nox family originated as a branch of the ancient Germanic Noirmort family — one of the four great families of magical Germany who had once supported Gellert Grindelwald. And now they had even split from the main branch in Romania, as the family had moved to Britain.
The Noirmort family, focused on dark rituals and necromancy, had been completely exterminated after the defeat of the greatest Dark Lord of this century — truly the greatest, without the qualifier "in a specific country," like some. Let's be honest: compared to Grindelwald, Voldemort's efforts were just childish games in the local sandbox of Britain.
Even funnier, in a book about Byzantine magical families, I found a mention that the Blacks were distantly related to the Noirmorts a thousand years ago. I wonder if there's a single old family I'm not distantly related to? Of course, we're all human, and so on... but in my case, it could literally be traced through written records back to the Middle Ages…
"We're not planning to go deeper," I said, holding a branch so it wouldn't whip Isabel, who was walking behind me. "We'll leave the path in a couple of minutes. There should be a clearing I scouted during one of the lessons."
The dim light of the evening sun would soon disappear anyway, and it was already barely penetrating the dense canopy. The further from the edge, the gloomier and thicker the forest became. The air smelled of damp earth, rotting leaves, and something else. Soon we had to switch to magical light — more precisely, a variant of Lumos Solem with a broader beam, which perfectly replaced a quality, expensive lantern (which would have given off light, albeit slightly weaker).
"I hope your 'scouted' spot isn't teeming with monsters," Cassius grumbled, looking around nervously.
"Calm down. This part of the forest is relatively safe. At least, it's regularly cleared of all sorts of things," Dexter replied.
Graham remained silent, and rightly so — that's why I'd brought him. My thoughts briefly drifted from the ritual and conversations. We were walking not far from where our Care of Magical Creatures classes were held.
That thought finally allowed me to distract myself. I just remembered that, properly, I should go feed the thestrals again tomorrow. I'd completely neglected these dear… uh… soulful creatures for the last two weeks. The thought of their skeletal presence somehow had a calming effect.
"Speaking of your beloved professor," Cassius said, as if reading my thoughts about thestrals. "You never told us how you managed to get along with him. Kettleburn is quite a character."
"Hufflepuffs say he was from their house," Isabel shrugged; she was even more silent than usual today due to the tense atmosphere.
I smirked.
"Professor Kettleburn… yes, he's an interesting person. Actually, it's easy to get along with him, despite his eccentric teaching style. If you'd chosen Care of Magical Creatures, Warrington, you'd know he's quite an elderly legend. Sixty-two probationary periods under Dippet! Countless incidents, the Great Hall fire caused by a bewitched firecrab… Now, under Dumbledore, he's calmed down, of course. The years have tamed him… Heh heh…"
"Pfft-ha-ha!" Graham was the first to break, surprisingly — I'd brought him for numbers and because he didn't talk much but did as told. Then we all lost it and started laughing.
The reason was that, as Kettleburn himself once put it, cynics claim it's due to "the one and a half limbs he has left from his original set."
Blackmore also couldn't contain himself — because the nearly hundred-year-old man, who had been teaching for about seventy years, indeed had only one and a half limbs left. It's still amazing that he's been teaching longer than many old people live. No joke, but Tom wasn't even born when he started working at Hogwarts. And he looks noticeably younger than Dumbledore, with only a decade or so difference.
"And you found common ground with such a man?"
"Anyone would, if they showed enthusiasm for his subject. It took a couple of lessons, persistence, and demonstrating… well, respect for his work. I just showed that I was genuinely interested in magical creatures, not just my grade. Basically, you just need to know the person you want to get close to, and then it's very easy to accomplish."
"I see… No wonder they've started calling you the Prince of Slytherin lately…" Cassius replied, pondering my words.
What I kept secret was that, in the end, I'd not only gotten close to Kettleburn, but he'd allowed me to feed the thestrals, and even taught me how, why, and where. Now I visit them once a week. A very relaxing activity, meditative even. I calmly feed them, pet them, and think my own thoughts, without rushing anywhere.
"There it is, by the way," I pointed to a barely noticeable clearing on the left. "We turn here."
We went deeper into the thicket.
A few minutes later, the path led us to a small clearing surrounded by ancient mossy oaks. In the center grew a solitary, almost bare young ash tree, its silvery bark faintly glowing in the deepening twilight.
The place was ideal: secluded and, more importantly, with a very dense magical background, which I clearly felt with my heightened senses. And that was very good, since the Forbidden Forest itself already had a strongly elevated background.
I could say I'd achieved the effect of being deep in the thickest part. And today, Samhain added to it. On this day, the magical background was always higher and… colder. I'd even say, otherworldly. And I literally felt this chill on my skin, and I even liked it slightly…
But one thing disrupted this idyll. Right in the center, where the background was slightly higher, I sensed something wrong. After so many rituals, thanks to a natural talent, I could now very well distinguish between territory with a heightened magical background (which increases gradually) and what was here. In the center was something slightly different, and for some reason, the background there was lower. As if something hidden and foreign…
"Here," I stated, dropping my bag of ritual supplies from my shoulder. "Diffindo!"
A powerful cutting scythe of energy cleaved the wooden monster in two — it had apparently liked this spot so much that it had made itself a private zone here. And I remembered that during that lesson, there had been no tree here. Especially a young ash tree.
The almost perfect tree disguise was shattered: instead, two long, writhing plant stumps now lay there. Soon, Incendio dealt with that as well.
While Cassius and Dexter, after that, warily scanned the perimeter, eyeing every bush and tree suspiciously, and Graham tried not to look frightened, I turned to Nox.
"Isabel, take a look. Seems suitable, what do you think?"
She closed her eyes for a moment, as if listening to something. Then she drew her wand and, after applying some diagnostic spell, nodded, and her usually mocking gaze became serious, almost professional.
"It's suitable. The node here is clean, and there's plenty of space — meaning we can notice if anyone or anything appears. I didn't sense any traces of outside interference or curses. Basically, you can prepare the circle. Need help with that?"
Was that all? I wondered to myself, then remembered that for such analysis, I just needed to concentrate and sharpen my already strong magical senses. So I shouldn't blame her.
But her confidence reassured me. Although I was the main actor in the upcoming event and wasn't going to let anyone near family knowledge, knowing that someone nearby understood ritualistics as well as I did (or likely even better) was calming. What if something went wrong, right?
"No, thanks. There's enough time, and I need the practice."
I caught Isabel's studying gaze. I remembered that when I'd casually suggested, a week ago, that she act as my assistant, with reciprocal help for her ritual if she were at school, her face had turned to stone.
"On Samhain?" she'd asked coldly. "Even a faint shadow of That Plan is… undesirable for me now. For special reasons I can't explain."
She didn't elaborate, and I didn't press. Every family and wizard has skeletons in their closet and vulnerabilities. Amanda, for her part, was at the family nest today and wouldn't return until tomorrow.
Alright, away with extraneous thoughts, I needed to begin. I started unloading chalk, obsidian stones, a small silver knife, and several pouches of herbs, minerals, and other components.
Meanwhile, the darkness of the evening forest deepened, turning into true night. Soon, an even more beautiful starry canvas would appear in the sky, because today I was lucky and the weather was clear. And very soon, the Plane of Death would be as close as possible to our plane, meaning Samhain's magic would peak. So, I needed to get everything ready in time.
Unfortunately, none of us knew any protective or space-concealing spells. For a third-year, that was, to put it mildly, too advanced magic. But I had enough skill to place warning charms around the perimeter of the clearing. And I positioned all four — Cassius, Dexter, Graham, and Isabel — at different sides, at a distance from where I'd draw the ritual, so they could keep a sharp lookout, lighting their lantern versions of Lumos, and signal at the slightest threat. Maybe this way we'd actually attract various creatures, but we couldn't do without light.
Playing school intrigues was certainly fun and cool, but it was no more than child's play compared to real magic, capable of changing the wizard himself and his essence. And I began preparing the ritual.