Alan shifted his gaze back to the metal magic book, where the original Wild Lightning rune still pulsed with a quiet, jagged energy.
"Since you originated from a Thunderbird, you should be able to coexist harmoniously with Dark Depiction."
A new hypothesis took shape in his mind. He brought his wand close to the shimmering mark once more, activating his magic to act as a bridge. With a sharp, sudden whoosh, the primordial rune was siphoned from the page and absorbed directly into the wood of the wand.
Dark Depiction accepted the charge as if it had consumed a potent tonic. The Thunderbird feather core became visibly more vibrant, and the surrounding lightning-struck ebony seemed to drink in the nourishment. The matte finish of the handle bloomed with concentric rings of silver light. When the glow finally settled, the wand returned to its dark hue, but the fine natural grain now looked as though it were inlaid with microscopic strands of silver. It was hauntingly beautiful.
"Excellent. Dark Depiction is clearly satisfied with the addition," Alan murmured. "Now, I need to focus on the quantitative parameters of Wild Lightning."
He moved with efficient purpose, clearing his laboratory of the plastic suit and potions. He pulled various specialized instruments from his spatial pouch, arranging them on the workbench.
"The priority is voltage testing—comparing Wild Lightning against the standard lightning rune. I'll set the magic output at a constant five marks."
Alan activated a large multimeter he had procured from a Muggle hardware store. He mounted a one-millimeter thick copper wire onto a small stand and carefully connected the leads. For this test, he chose not to use his wand; Dark Depiction's natural affinity would skew the data. He needed the raw baseline of his own casting.
He held his left hand in a loose grip, materializing a standard lightning rune. He funneled exactly five marks of magic into a discharge onto the copper wire, repeating the process ten times to ensure a clean data set. He then dispelled the basic mark and manifested the Wild Lightning rune, maintaining the same five-mark output for another ten discharges.
"Under a controlled state of calm, the intensity remains stable," Alan noted, scribbling the results. "The average voltage for the standard rune is approximately 200V. For Wild Lightning... it's 1000V."
He stared at the numbers in surprise. "With identical magic input, Wild Lightning produces five times the electrical pressure. This is well beyond the threshold of low-voltage safety."
This discovery solidified his confidence. If he practiced the output ratio and utilized the amplification from Dark Depiction, he could likely push this magic into the range of high-voltage or even ultra-high-voltage power.
"However, I must account for atmospheric attenuation," he mused. "Electricity loses energy rapidly when traveling through air. To extend the range, I either need massive intensity or a physical conductor."
He began mapping out the tactical applications for the remainder of his summer research.
"First: Develop high-speed, high-density electrocution charms.
Second: Replace standard runes in existing spells, like the Weather-shaping charms, with Wild Lightning.
Third: Explore advanced patterns—Ball Lightning, Electromagnetic Pulses, perhaps even a kinetic railgun concept.
Fourth: Synergistic tactics, such as 'Electric Water Guns' or adding a storm element to the Flying Raven Spell.
Fifth: Inscribe the rune onto alchemical equipment, like the Binding Spirit Snake.
Sixth: Test for unique sentient characteristics, much like the mimetics of Fiendfyre."
The rest of the summer became a disciplined blur. Alan spent his mornings buried in the plundered Travers library and his afternoons in the lab, casting until his arm ached and his hair stood on end. He only emerged for meals at the Leaky Cauldron, sharing stories with Tom over hearty plates of food.
When September first finally arrived, Alan walked into King's Cross Station alone. Unlike previous years, his arrival at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters caused an immediate stir. He had subtly altered his appearance; his signature monocle was now framed in polished silver rather than brass, and his hair was cut in a sharp, short style.
He was the "Combat Hero" now, a face that had appeared in the papers nearly every day. Despite the staring and pointing, he remained perfectly composed, slipping into an empty carriage to wait for the journey to begin.
"Hey, Alan! How was your summer?" Vivian asked, sliding into the compartment with her usual high energy.
"You," Alan said, looking at her with a deadpan expression. "Care to explain that 'exclusive report' you gave the Prophet?"