September 1, 1991.
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
I never tire of repeating it.
When you’re busy, time flies by unnoticed.
It feels like just yesterday I returned from the magical world after shopping, and now I’m sitting in a train compartment that will take me to Hogwarts.
Over the past year, not much happened, but a few events are worth mentioning.
First, in early December, I tried to sneak into Diagon Alley.
Changing my appearance with Metamorphmagus abilities, I looked like a scrawny blonde of about sixteen or seventeen.
I headed to the Leaky Cauldron.
***
I went into the pub and, trying not to draw attention, went straight to the bartender.
“Good day, monsieur,” I greeted him.
“I would like to visit the magical street of Great Britain.
Could you tell me how to get there?”
Tom looked up from polishing glasses and gave me a once-over.
“And who might you be, young man?”
“Oh, excusez-moi, where are my manners?
My name is Lance Bosch.
I am a graduate of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.
After graduating, I decided to travel, and my journey brought me here, to England.”
“I see, sir.
But why did you come from the Muggle side?
Travel between countries is strictly through designated points.
In England, that’s the Ministry of Magic’s Apparition area,” Tom said, eyeing me warily.
“Oui, you see, I am Muggle-born, so I travel by Muggle means.
I’m not strong or skilled enough to travel by Apparition or Portkey.”
“Oh, well then, that’s different,” the bartender said, visibly relaxing.
“Welcome to England, sir.
Follow me.”
“Merci.”
Coming out from behind the bar, Tom led me to the entrance to the magical world.
We went through the same path as last time and ended up in that same dead end.
Only this time, Tom opened the entrance, not Flitwick.
Wishing me a pleasant stay, the bartender left.
Well, I could consider my infiltration a success and my disguise, my appearance, quite successful.
Only it consumed a lot of mana.
I had about five hours worth.
I needed to hurry.
First, I visited the bank.
There, I exchanged francs, which I had bought in the Muggle world for pounds, for Galleons.
Then I went shopping.
First, I bought a trunk with an expanded interior.
When the professor and I went shopping, we bought an ordinary school trunk.
It barely fit all my school things.
Now I wanted to buy a different one.
The selection, I must say, was extensive.
There were large and small trunks, with weight-lightening charms and without.
I bought one that looked the same as the school trunk on the outside.
The difference was that it was divided into several compartments on the inside, it had a weight-lightening charm, an expanded interior, and blood-binding.
Generally, blood magic is forbidden in England, as it is in many other magical schools.
But binding, for example, is allowed if it’s done within the letter of the law.
Items with blood-binding are allowed to be sold if they were constructed that way.
I wanted to buy a satchel, of course.
It’s more expensive but much more convenient.
But if I bought one, Professor Flitwick would immediately know that I had been in Diagon Alley.
That could raise some unpleasant questions.
Besides, if he asked the bartender, he would find out that I hadn’t passed through the pub after my visit with the professor.
That would be suspicious.
Forget it, I didn’t need the extra attention.
Next, I went into a jewelry store.
There, I bought a small aristocrat’s set: a ring, an earring, and an amulet.
The ring was a detector for poisons and potions in food.
The amulet protected against minor curses and the removal of fallen hairs.
The earring created a small mind shield.
Not very strong, but it could warn me when someone was trying to get into my head.
I spent most of my money on the ring and the amulet.
You don’t skimp on that kind of thing.
I bought the earring in the cheapest configuration.
After all, I’m an Occlumens myself.
Each item had concealment charms.
They looked like ordinary silver jewelry.
One look at them, and you could see that the gemstones acted as pumps, drawing mana from the owner’s aura, and the metal itself was covered in runes.
They were responsible for the artifacts’ abilities.
The jewelry also had blood-binding.
To bind it, you had to drop a drop of your blood on the jewelry while the seller recited the standard binding spell.
After that, the jewelry could “disguise” itself.
Last on the list was the bookshop.
I also went into a secondhand shop, and there were no old, dusty ancient tomes.
Those shops were exactly what they were: used goods stores.
A kind of warehouse for secondhand items.
Though I must say, all the items were of good quality and could serve their owner for many more years.
I spent a long time in the bookshop.
But the selection wasn’t great.
I bought “The Complete Collection of Laws of Magical England,” “The Basics of Charms,” “Fundamentals of Transfiguration,” and “Potion Making: Rules and Basics.” I didn’t find anything else.
Though I searched for a long time, in every section.
Who knows where something might be hidden.
I also consulted with the bookseller, but the only thing he told me was, “The list of books is regulated by the Ministry of Magic.
After buying everything I needed, I left Diagon Alley. Visit novelping.com for the full chapter.
***
I spent the rest of my time at home, continuing to improve my magic, studying the books I’d bought, and of course, my wand.
The books turned out to be an interesting situation.
None of them revealed complete information on the chosen subject.
They only contained the basics.
The book on oaths had examples of the most common oaths in the world.
For example, “I swear by magic…” or “I swear by my life…” The punishment is exactly as formulated.
But there’s a condition.
You are not punished by an ethereal entity, but by yourself.
It’s something like self-programming your own body.
Like self-hypnosis for ordinary wizards, except that a wizard cannot dispel this oath like ordinary people can with self-hypnosis.
I’m sure these oaths can be circumvented.
I think mind wizards who can work with the subconscious can command the oath to be canceled.
But not everyone reaches that level of mastery.
The book on oaths also briefly mentioned oaths made under the patronage of plane owners.
Those oaths cannot be broken.
The plane owners themselves, or at least sufficiently strong inhabitants, monitor the fulfillment of the oath.
And the punishments there are much stricter.
Not every wizard would dare to make an oath certified by plane spirits.
There’s definitely no getting out of that one.
The book on the laws of magical England is perhaps the only complete book.
It lists all the current laws, and I must say, there are an incredible number of them.
There is also a certain bias in the laws.
Laws introduced over five hundred years ago are still used.
And there are many such laws.
The laws themselves are not introduced often.
Over five hundred years, fewer have been introduced than in the last fifty.
It seems the Ministry decided to tighten and consolidate its power.
Sadly, the magical court will side with an aristocrat, not a Muggle-born.
Aristocracy and magical families without a source are the foundation of the magical world.
So the law will be on their side.
This can be both condemned and understood.
***
The situation with my wand is also quite interesting.
My wand is a concentrator, a consumer, and a pump.
Let me explain.
Concentrator: this is simple.
The wand makes using magic easier.
If without a wand I can lift about fifteen objects, with a wand I can lift thirty.
A striking difference, don’t you think?
It immediately becomes clear why many wizards stop developing.
Why bother if the progress isn’t so noticeable?
And besides, all wizards consider themselves incredibly powerful.
Under no circumstances will anyone take away their wand.
Fools.
Of course, this doesn’t help develop control.
So I will only use my wand in lessons and when necessary.
During personal training, I will use pure control.
I don’t want to become an appendage to my wand.
I want to change reality itself with my will, not settle for less.
Next, consumer.
The wand constantly consumes mana from my Seventh shell.
This develops the wand’s own structure.
Under magical vision, the wand looks like a small tool with mana channels.
An additional part of the body.
By consuming my mana, it increases its “mass,” develops its channels, and increases synchronization.
A kind of symbiotic extra-corporeal entity within the magical shell.
Pump: when using the wand, it “scoops up” mana from the environment and feeds my manipulations.
It’s a good thing that this ability can be temporarily turned off.
I want to continue developing, not standing still.
The wand itself grew a separate mana channel to my Seventh shell.
Rather than grew, it connected, because the channel was already quite developed.
It consumes mana through this channel.
This same channel will develop if I use only the wand, while my other, natural channels will gradually degrade or simply not develop.
A sad picture, to say the least.
From the above, it follows that the wand is a symbiote.
It develops and makes using mana easier.
***
That’s about everything that happened over the year.
Now I’m sitting in the train carriage, waiting for departure.
I changed my appearance using Metamorphmagus.
An ordinary eleven or twelve-year-old’s build.
That’s exactly what I looked like when I met the professor.
I think if I showed up at school as an eleven-year-old looking thirteen or fourteen, it would definitely attract attention.
Maintaining my appearance consumes much less mana than Lance’s form.
There, I radically changed my appearance and build.
Now, I’m just slightly reducing my height.
I also trained all year, and my reserve reached one hundred and seventy units.
That’s a quarter more than last year.
It looks like the beginning of my adolescent growth spurt also applies to my magic.
Outside the window, people were milling about.
All wizards.
Some, already in their school robes, mostly older students, were gathering in groups and getting into carriages.
Somewhere, families were emotionally saying goodbye.
There were also typical aristocrats.
Families were seeing off their children in full force.
The children couldn’t boast the same.
Interest, impatience, fear, and joy seeped through their “masks.”
The platform was buzzing with life.
Then the signal sounded, announcing the train’s imminent departure.
Those who hadn’t found a seat quickly said their goodbyes and jumped on board.
The train began to move.
The platform gradually disappeared from view, along with the people who stood there watching their children leave.
You could even see people running alongside the train.
My parents couldn’t make it onto the platform.
We said our goodbyes before the entrance to the platform.
I would miss them.
The sound of a sliding door came from behind me.
In the doorway stood two brothers, twins, about thirteen or fourteen years old.
They were so alike you couldn’t tell them apart.
“Oh, brother Forge, do you see what I see?”
“Yes, brother Gred, I see the same thing.”
With that, they entered my compartment.
They looked, as I said, identical.
Both red-haired, freckled, lanky, with the same build.
Their robes were decent, but you could immediately see they were slightly worn.
They knew how to wear clothes.
They made a pleasant first impression.
“By virtue of being…”
“…older and more experienced wizards, we…”
“…recommend you join Gryffindor, because only with us…”
“…are the bravest, most cheerful, and…”
“…most loyal companions.”
They said it all in one breath, accompanying their words with magic.
With a wave of their wands, they conjured fireworks, multi-colored lights, and a lion and a dragon that clashed in battle, all against the backdrop of a majestic castle next to an equally large and ancient forest.
Was that Hogwarts?
I must admit, it looked incredible.
If I were an ordinary child, I would definitely want to be a red-and-gold.
Nothing could convince me otherwise.
“By the way, we are…”
“…the incredibly famous pranksters of the school.
The best in the entire…”
“…history of Hogwarts.”
“So you’re saying you’re Hogwarts’ greatest treasure?” I said, smiling slightly.
“There have never been more cheerful and crazy wizards in the school’s history?”
The twins looked at each other, smiled, and nodded in unison.
“Forge, I like him.”
“You’re not the only one, Gred.”
Looking at them, I decided to introduce myself.
“My name is Kael Massimo.
And what are the names of Hogwarts’ greatest pranksters?” I said, getting up from my seat.
“The right-hand prankster is Fred Weasley, and…”
“…the left-hand prankster is George Weasley.”
“We are the greatest pranksters in all of magical England.”
They finished in unison and burst out laughing together.
Cheerful guys, I’ll give them that.
A question occurred to me, though.
Are they really like that, or is this just another mask?
They didn’t stay in the compartment long.
Apparently, they had to give that same speech many more times on this train.
Saying goodbye, they left.
As soon as they left, the compartment door was roughly pushed open again.
In the doorway stood another redhead, but younger and alone.
He looked around the compartment and at me, then grimaced and slammed the door shut.
I caught a couple of words as he turned away.
“Dirty Mudblood…”
Well, not the most pleasant person.
That must be the sixth Weasley, Ron.
I remember from the book that he was envious and not above stabbing someone in the back.
Harry wouldn’t be lucky with a friend like that.
About the word “Mudblood”: that’s what the Light aristocrats call Muggle-borns who aren’t Blessed Ones.
That is, descendants of families that lost their Gift after accumulating curses.
Only in the last thirty or forty years has that word become a common term for all Muggle-borns.
Aristocrats, what can you say?
Especially with the influence of the Dark Lords’ politics over the last century.
By the way, the twins were wearing their robes, but Ron was in ordinary clothes.
Was that a performance for one viewer?
The rest of the trip passed uneventfully.
No one came in.
No one knocked.
No one wanted anything to do with a quiet reborn person.
Thank Magic.
Only toward the end, a head of bushy hair poked into the compartment.
She glanced around, saw me, and left without saying a word.
That must have been Hermione.
What can I say about her?
An ordinary girl.
A bit rude, but we can chalk that up to nerves.
I wasn’t just sitting around the whole time.
During the journey, I practiced the spells described in the books.
At home, I didn’t risk practicing spells.
I didn’t want to attract the attention of Ministry officials.
As it grew dark, I changed into my school robes.
As soon as I did, the train’s whistle blew.
We were almost there.