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The Grind (And Helping Heather Potter) Ch.14
🕑 Added 2023-08-12 17:01:24 +0000 UTCI stared into the darkness, seeing both the forest and the trees and all the dangers that lurked within. This was a terrible idea. Probably one of my worst. But it was something I felt I had to do. I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t.
This wasn’t just for my safety. It was for Heather’s safety. And Luna’s. And Gabrielle’s. And Septima’s. And Hermione’s. And even the rest of my students.
I wasn’t strong enough. The Triwizard Tournament Quest made me painfully aware of that. At some point this year, Heather and I would be going up against Voldemort. And I was determined to make it so we’d be coming out on top.
My Disciplines were unbalanced at the moment. And now, I was preparing to do something to fix that issue. I couldn’t let my Combat Skill wallow behind the rest of my Skills. It had served me well enough during the World Cup Riot, but I’d had surprise on my side then. That wasn’t something I could count on. I needed more strength, more skill, and more power. I needed to Grind my numbers higher.
Combat was trained best in life-or-death situations. According to my System, at least. With that in mind, I’d come to the only place I had easy access to that would fit those requirements. I’d come out to the Forbidden Forest. At night. With nothing but myself, my wand, a small assortment of potions and antidotes, and no backup to speak of.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. In a pinch, I could call for Fawkes and pray he was willing to save a daft moron like me. I’d asked Dumbledore’s permission to do that and he’d readily given it for emergency situations within the Castle where apparition was limited by the wards, showing an immense amount of trust in me to not abuse the privilege. I figured a good place to start paying back that debt of trust was by ensuring Heather had all the tools I could give her in order to survive.
Which circled back around to my frankly foolhardy idea to train my Combat Skills in the Forbidden Forest. Heather had Tier 5 for Combat and I only had Tier 2. I wanted to at least be useful to her in that field and that meant quickly raising my Combat Tier to be much closer to hers. I was under no illusion that a single night’s Grind would solve everything there but it was the only place I could feasibly start.
I knew I was stalling at this point. There was nothing more I could do to prepare for tonight other than potentially telling Luna or Septima. But then they would have tried to join me (Luna at the very least) and I didn’t want to get them involved with this when they were even less qualified for this than I was.
Nervously twirling my wand in my hand, I took my first steps into the Forbidden Forest. Almost instantly, the darkness of the Forest seemed to close in around me. It was like stepping into another dimension.
The serene silence of the Hogwarts grounds at night was replaced with a different sort of silence. A silence paradoxically filled with a cloak of noise. Leaves rustled in the wind. Unidentifiable animal sounds filled the night. The call of an owl. The scurrying of prey in the undergrowth. The yips of a pair of foxes on the hunt. The very Forest seemed to breathe around me, each gust of wind an inhale or exhale that shook the trees.
I followed a small trail until I couldn’t anymore. Then I began to cut my way through the now-dense foliage with quick slashes of my wand. Bushes and shrubs fell away before my wand and I forged my way through the trees.
I was probably the noisiest thing in the Forest tonight. And with the rumors I’d heard of Trolls and Giants, that was saying something. I didn’t know the first thing about true woodcraft and I was sure Hagrid would have called me a babe fumbling about in the dark. Still, I forged on as the sounds of mundane animals began to fade into obscurity.
I didn’t come across many of the Forest’s inhabitants. They could likely hear me coming from a mile away. But I knew I wasn’t alone in these woods. Even an amateur like me could see the obvious tracks, hear the animalistic calls, and smell the scent of a creature’s passing.
By the half-hour mark of my expedition into the Forbidden Forest, the worst thing I’d encountered was a small pack of Doxies. The Biting Fairies — no better than pests in most situations but known for their dangerously venomous bites — were easy enough to take care of with some simple Knockback Jinxes. They were small enough that they gave pretty good Accuracy and Attack XP though.
< +2 to Attack, +4 to Accuracy >
< Attack 18+2=20/100, Accuracy 15+4=19/100 >
A little bit farther into the Forest, I came across a rocky cliff-like outcropping. I was already on high guard when I saw the cliff. The Forest around it was scattered with webs and what looked to be empty spider nests. The nests were big enough that they would’ve been more fit for large dogs though.
The rocky cliff was covered in webs woven thick enough that they looked like snow. A medium-sized cave entrance sat in the middle of the cliff, framed by even more spider-spun silk. A clearing led up to the cave, with shrunken cocoons scattered around it as if whatever they contained had already been drained and consumed.
“Not even for all the knowledge in the world,” I deadpanned, staring pointedly at the ominous cave entrance.
Despite my words, I stepped into the clearing. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere near that cave but spiders did seem like an easy and guilt-free source of XP. If only I could lure them out to me…
That train of thought didn’t get very far. As I stepped into the middle of the clearing, the ground surrounding me burst upward. More than a dozen previously-burrowed spiders revealed themselves around the clearing, boxing me in and clattering their mandibles and legs together menacingly.
My estimate of their size was unfortunately quite accurate. The knees of their bent, scurrying legs came up to about my waist. Fearsome-looking little buggers, they were all chitin and thorns and the always-academic portion of my mind helpfully identified them as Thornbacks.
That helpful identification almost caused me to eat spider spit to the face. I barely ducked out of the way as three of the Thornbacks spat something at me with a spine-tingling hiss. Two of the projectiles looked like globs of something and the last was a densely-packed ball of web. As I dodged, the other spiders moved as well, some staying back with their spitting pals and the rest circling closer to prevent my escape.
“Dear Arthur… The spiders have a functional party comp,” I whispered to myself in horrified awe.
And they did. The spiders that were coming into melee range were red and bulky as if built to be tanks. The ones that stayed back were slimmer, four of a poisonous-green color and the rest of an off-white. The green spiders were the ones that spat the globs of something at me, something that began to eat away at the ground where it landed.
The spiders had tanks, DPS, and with the off-white, web-shooting spiders, area control as well. I wasn’t sure why that terrified me as much as it did. Maybe something about pack-hunting spiders the size of large dogs was a fear inherent to the Human condition. If it wasn’t, it should have been…
Regardless, I channeled that primal terror into something productive. Namely, roasting Thornbacks on an open flame. A wordless Incendio sent a stream of fire rolling over the closest spiders. They skittered back in fear, one or two curling up into balls as they cooked on the spot.
Another silent spell raised a shield around me and I whirled into motion. Banishers and Blasting and Cutting Curses were spent freely from my wand. I found myself ducking and dodging as my shield shattered under a volley of acid, my heart racing on a razor’s edge as the adrenaline of battle filled my veins.
As the fight went on, I found myself casting darker and darker spells. Curses and Hexes flowed from me like water as I seemed to naturally fall back on things I knew could end my enemies entirely. In my soul, darkness danced with glee, eagerly calling out to be used to smite those who stood before me.
Spider blood boiled. Their chitin cracked as a suitable replacement for bone. Some were even turned inside-out entirely. A darkness seemed to fall over the stony grove, darker than the night of the Forest. One by one, the Thornback spiders fell dead, never to scurry or hunt ever again.
Through it all, I kept my mind afloat through willpower and the knowledge of what I was fighting for… who I was fighting for. The darkness inside me would not rule my soul. It was a tool, a means to an end, just as the System and even magic as a whole were. I was the one who wielded it and I never let myself forget that.
When the last spider fell dead, I stood amidst all the bodies, barely even panting. My heart was certainly racing though and my soul called out, baying for more bloodshed. My mind reeled as I brought my heart rate back under control. It was almost scary how easy it was to fall into the flow of things and use everything I’d learned. I’d never shied away from the Dark Arts before but most of my knowledge in that area was academic. Now, I was putting it into practice and I was finding that I was good at it.
< +2 to Awareness, +2 to DADA, +3 to Defense, +3 to Agility, +5 to Focus, +5 to Tactics, +5 to Attack, +6 to Dueling, +6 to Evasion, +7 to Dark Arts >
< Awareness 22+2=24/100, DADA 47+2=49/100, Defense 28+3=31/100, Agility 19+3=22/100, Focus 26+5=31/100, Tactics 20+5=25/100, Attack 20+5=25/100, Dueling 21+6=27/100, Evasion 16+6=22/100, Dark Arts 21+7=28/100 >
< Your Combat Skill is Now Tier 3 >
Oh… that certainly helped the slight discomfort I was feeling with my dark nature. A rush of dopamine and satisfaction flooded me as my numbers went up dramatically. Life-or-death situations were really effective training for Combat Skills. And my Dark Nature Perk was already paying dividends.
The stream of quantified self-improvement just reaffirmed my desire for the Grind. With my motivation renewed, I set off in search of more fights to pick in the Forbidden Forest. I may have been a dark bastard at heart but I wouldn’t let that stop me from Grinding. Heather would need every bit of help I could give her.
The next fight I found was with an odd-looking bear. I wasn’t even aware that there were wild bears in the British Isles. It must have been some kind of magical breed, an idea given credence by the almost comical fangs it had in its mouth. It was as if this bear had been bitten by a vampire…
The worst part was I couldn’t immediately eliminate that as a possibility. Still, the possibly vampiric bear fell just like the spiders when I let the darkness out to play. I even decided to get fancy with it, skewering the bear with a transfigured branch through its heart. Just to make sure it stayed down — if it really was vampiric — I hit its fallen form with a Lumos Solem, briefly illuminating the night with the light of day.
I didn’t have many noteworthy encounters after that. At least, none that me and my inner darkness couldn’t handily handle. But my night was anything but uneventful. I steadily carved my way through the population of the Forbidden Forest, leaving a trail of death and destruction in my wake as I delved deep into its shadowed depths.
Another odd vampire bear praised the sun at some point. I came face to face with a Troll and it came face to face with a banished boulder. I exterminated what must have been half a colony of Acromantula, their nests of webs going up in flames easily, though thankfully, that fire didn’t spread to the rest of the Forest. I even made a sort of truce with a Cerberus of all things. What the infamous Three-Headed Dog of Hell was doing near Hogwarts, I hadn’t the foggiest. I was just happy enough to leave it alone to its hippogriff dinner.
And all throughout the night, the XP kept pouring in. The Grind was going strong and I could physically feel the improvement in how smooth my casts felt, how I moved, how my spells and transfigurations tore through enemies, and how I began to dominate whatever battlefield I stepped onto.
But fatigue did build up and by dawn, I had to practically drag myself out of the Forbidden Forest. Tonight was my single most magic-intensive training session… ever. Nothing else compared to going full combat tilt in back-to-back life-or-death situations for nearly eight hours straight. Even my now quite high Body Stat was struggling to keep up.
I couldn’t deny that the thrill of everything I’d done tonight still hadn’t left me though. The darkness in my soul sang for all the blood I’d spilled, all the lives I’d taken, all the violence my wand had enacted. I… may need to look into a purging ritual of some kind…
Then there was a different sort of satisfaction within me alongside that dark thrill. The supreme satisfaction of the Grind. Nothing compared to having tangible evidence of the progress I’d made in a single night. The siren’s call of the Dark Arts? It was pitiful in comparison.
< +1 to Transfiguration, +2 to DADA, +2 to Wanded Magic, +14 to Dark Arts >
< Transfiguration 50+1=51/100, DADA 49+2=51/100, Wanded Magic 51+2=53/100, Dark Arts 28+14=42/100 >
< Your Magic Skill is Now Tier 5 >
< +5 to Tactics, +7 to Accuracy, +7 to Defense, +8 to Agility, +9 to Awareness, +9 to Evasion, +10 to Focus, +15 to Attack, +15 to Dueling >
< Tactics 25+5=30/100, Accuracy 19+7=26/100, Defense 31+7=38/100, Agility 22+8=30/100, Awareness 24+9=33/100, Evasion 22+9=31/100, Focus 31+10=41/100, Attack 28+12=40/100, Dueling 29+12=42/100 >
< Your Combat Skill is Now Tier 4 >
Oh yeah… That’s that good shit. Even as I struggled to put one foot in front of the other, barely standing straight without help, I’d never felt more alive. If I was physically able, I would have gone right back out to the Forest for more indiscriminate murder. The path to Murder Hobo was a slippery slope but one I’d gladly throw myself down in pursuit of the Grind (ethically, I wasn’t about to start murdering my students or anything).
I limped my way back up and through the Castle as dawn broke over the horizon. Thankfully, as Heather’s self-proclaimed coach for the tournament, I had an easy excuse to skip my classes for the day. I just had to hope that Heather would be willing to put her training on hold until I got some sleep.
I had some ideas for that. We didn’t have a clue what the first task of the tournament would be. But it seemed fair to assume that it would be a test of magical skill or power of some kind. Both things Heather was no slouch in but she was still out-matched.
The difference between a Fourth Year and a Sixth or Seventh Year was pretty significant. For one, Heather hadn’t even taken her OWLs yet and wouldn’t for another two years (end of Fifth Year). It was my job to make up that difference in any way I could.
There was the obvious stuff I could do to help Heather. Stuff like physical training, teaching her more advanced spells, and giving her an opponent to practice dueling against. But I also wanted to try some things that were a bit unusual. Perhaps a bit of Runecraft or Ritualcraft or even trying my hand at Potions again after so long.
And it couldn’t hurt to teach Heather Occlumency for ease of studying and Apparition even though she wouldn’t be able to get her license for a couple of years yet. I’d rather her know how to Apparate in an emergency than blindly follow some Ministry age restriction.
My mind was still brainstorming as I stumbled up to the door to my quarters. I barely managed to get it open before my body finally gave out on me. I collapsed, thankfully using my hold on the door to slow my descent. Almost instantly, I felt my mind begin to drift off to dreamland.
“Oh! Atlas! There you are! Don’t you know how much you worried us?” I heard Luna’s voice through the fuzz that was taking over the world outside my head. “Ah, he’s been busy tonight… He must be exhausted. Let’s get him to bed. Help me?”
It sounded like she was talking to someone. Maybe Septima was here? I had kind of disappeared without much notice tonight. She was probably worried about me. Or she’d been absorbed in some Arithmancy project or another and was only just now realizing I was even gone. You never knew with Septima.
I vaguely felt two pairs of hands take hold of me and struggle to get my limp body moving. I tried to help but I was finding it harder and harder to control my body as I quickly slipped into unconsciousness.
“Magical and physical exhaustion… Dark Arts saturation…? What did he do to himself…?” An unfamiliar voice asked. Even though I couldn’t place who the voice belonged to, it was somehow… comforting… as was the embrace that accompanied it.
“It’s Professor Gamer’s superpower! The Grind!” Luna replied, carefree as she always was as if nothing the world could throw at her could dampen her spirits. “He just needs a bit of sleep. If you want, you can help me keep him warm and comfy!”
“Yes!” The unfamiliar voice agreed eagerly. Almost obsessively, in fact. “I mean… Are you sure? I-Is it even appropriate…?”
“Of course it is! You’ve got some much missed time to make up for!” Luna’s voice was the last thing I heard before my world was fully claimed by sleep. What’d she mean by ‘missed time’…?
IIIII
“Ready?” I asked, bringing my wand up as Heather did the same across from me. “Remember, don’t worry about injuries. We’ll deal with them afterward. Just show me what you can do.”
Heather nodded firmly, her whole body tense as I signaled for Hermione to start the spar whenever she wanted to.
I woke up a bit after mid-afternoon with Luna wrapped around me — no doubt skipping classes in the process — and our new cat curled up by my head. The first thing I did after cleaning myself up was seek Heather out to start her training.
As if was Friday, I found her in Potions class and proceeded to steal her right out from under Snape’s nose. Hermione tagged along as well, seemingly more than happy to break the rules for her best friend. Snape could only grunt impotently and let us go because there was apparently some rule that Triwizard champions could skip class so long as it was related to the tournament. It reminded me to go over the tournament’s rules for other convenient clauses like that one.
With classes in session, it was surprisingly difficult to find a place to train. Our search was only resolved when Heather had the brilliant idea to ask a House Elf — she’d called him Dobby — for a suitable location. They did know the Castle better than anyone else after all.
That did mean I had to set the record straight for Hermione about House Elves though. That was more difficult than I thought it would be. Hell, I even agreed with her. Slavery as a concept was generally immoral and the way House Elves could be treated was simply inhumane on top of that.
Unfortunately, the Magical World didn’t subscribe to the same morals or logic as the 20th century. As far as my knowledge of the subject showed, House Elves needed to be bonded to Wizards or Magical locations to live. Their slavery was a terrible, systemic side-effect of that.
Even when I explained that House Elves existed in a symbiotic relationship just as much as they did in slavery, Hermione’s opinion wasn’t completely swayed. I encouraged her to do her own research — even actually talk to some House Elves and get their opinion on the relationship —, and said I would be happy if she found something that could change my mind. For now, though, the House Elf issue took a back seat to making sure Heather survived this tournament.
Dobby led us to an empty corridor on the seventh floor of the Castle. To our confusion, he then paced back and forth in front of a tapestry of dancing Trolls three times and a door appeared on the opposite wall. He introduced it as the ‘Come and Go Room’ or the ‘Room of Requirement’, a room that could take whatever form its users desired. Truly, magic could do anything.
In the stately training room that the Room of Requirement had summoned for us at Dobby’s behest, Heather and I faced off. I just wanted to get a better idea of her skills. I knew her magical power and reactions were great — as demonstrated by her Combat Tier of 5 and our little ‘adventure’ at the Cup Riot. But I wanted to get a better idea of her spell repertoire. What spells I could teach her, mostly, but also the theory behind dueling and Wizarding combat that I think she instinctively grasped but didn’t truly understand.
The moment Hermione signaled the duel’s start, I stepped to the side with a preemptive shield at the tip of my wand. Heather opened with a silent and powerful Disarming Charm to where I was just standing. She didn’t predict my movement but wasn’t content to let it be with just one spell. A Banisher and a Severing Charm quickly followed, Heather’s wand motions blurring together in a short, rudimentary but instinctive spell chain.
The shield on the tip of my wand parried the Banisher, batting it away even as I ducked beneath the Severing Charm. Heather pressed forward, chucking another Banisher my way. I replied in turn, my Banisher colliding with hers and sending a small shockwave rolling over both of us.
A Jelly-Legs Jinx tried to get through my defenses, splashing harmlessly across my conjured shield. Heather didn’t stop moving forward, closing the distance between us as if she was going to…
I found myself laughing even as I dove out of the way of Heather’s fist. She really was a firecracker, one that had obviously been raised by Muggles. Still, a Knockback Jinx made her take a step back, creating more distance between us, and I transfigured the stone floor of the room beneath her into mud that Heather sank into up to her ankles.
“Blooming bastard!” Heather cursed. “These are my favorite shoes!”
“All is fair in love and war, my dear~” I teased back.
“I’ll show ya love and war,” Heather grumbled.
“Avifors! Avifors! Avifors!” Heather chanted, transfiguring a flock of doves from a bit of the mud that dove for my face.
“Heh, I see what you did there.”
Doves as an attack? Love and war? Wicked sense of humor in that one.
Even as I chuckled, I sent a wide-area Freezing Charm at the doves and sent their frozen forms back at Heather. She’d just managed to free herself from the mud and squawked as she was pelted by her own spell. With that distraction, I was able to easily finish the duel with a simple Stunning Spell.
I processed how the spar went as I walked back over to Heather. She’d done well. But I was expecting that much. Her arsenal of spells could use some development. If she had access to some of the more advanced spells taught at Hogwarts, she probably wouldn’t have relied on the Avifors transfiguration spell, instead using Avis to conjure the birds herself, for example.
I didn’t mind her decision to try melee though. It was unexpected, perfectly fit Heather’s character, and probably would have worked on the more traditional Wizards she’d eventually duel.
When I revived her, Heather tried to get a cheap shot in, lashing out with her foot to kick my shin. As naturally as I breathed, my wand swiped her leg out of the way. It was less a defined spell and more a work of directed intent and magic. She spun on her back until her head was pointed at me.
“None of that,” I chided. “The spar is over. Now, we need to talk about how you did.”
Heather crossed her arms and pouted directly up at me, “Fine… but you owe me a new pair of shoes.”
A quick Scorgify had her sneakers looking squeaky clean and I asked, “Better?”
Heather sniffed as if she was unphased by my cleaning efforts, “No, I rather think you should still buy me something.”
“How about a whole armored outfit and a new pair of boots?” I offered, figuring I could pacify her in a productive way.
“Really?” My offer made Heather perk up, forgetting about her once-dirty shoes and getting to her feet to look at me with starry, puppy-dog eyes.
I shrugged, “Why not? It’d play rather well with something else I have planned to help you with the tournament. The only issue I see is that it might be against the rules.”
I could see Heather already beginning to design her new armor in her mind by the almost-dreamy look that came over her face. Hermione cleared her throat in the background, drawing my attention to her.
“Were you planning on sharing those plans for the tournament with us?” She asked pointedly.
“Yeah!” Hermione’s question brought Heather’s attention back to us. “You’re supposed to be my coach or something and you haven’t told us anything. What gives, Atlas?”
I hummed, “Hmm… Let me answer your question with another question. How do you feel about tattoos?”
“What does that have to do with any-…” Hermione was visibly confused by my seeming non sequitur until realization hit her. “No! Your Runic tattoo idea?!”
“Wicked…” Heather breathed, eying me with awe and a little bit of something that made me fear for whatever chastity I had left.
“It’s brilliant!” Hermione exclaimed. “Even if armor is forbidden by the tournament’s rules, they can’t very well take away a tattoo!”
“Yup, my thinking exactly,” I agreed, smiling at how quick on the uptake Hermione was. “Defensive Runes seem pretty obvious but I was thinking we could try out a few different sequences and see what else we can stuff into the tattoo. You never know when you may need to, say, shoot lightning from your fingertips…”
Heather was busy giggling — practically cackling — to herself, “Heheheh~ Petunia’s gonna flip!”
Hermione, however, had already started brainstorming, “How would that work…? Well, Thurs obviously. But how would we get it — the lightning — to shoot out? Though a lightning cloak would be useful as well and for that, we just have to add together something like Thurs and Algiz… Gar maybe to mean spear or weapon…?”
“Don’t forget we can use other Runic languages than just Norse, Germanic, and Anglo-Saxon,” I reminded her.
Hermione lit up like a star, “Oh, yes! Hieroglyphics would change everything! But are you sure they’ll work together?”
“That’s just something we’ll have to find out. I’m sure it’s been done before. Perhaps the library has a book on combining different Runic languages?”
“What about Kanji?” Heather asked. Seeing our surprise, she shrugged. “Dudley used to be really into Dragon Ball. I may have caught a few episodes here and there on Saturday mornings.”
“That’s certainly something to look into as well,” I considered. “Does that mean you want to go with the tattoo idea?”
“Hell yeah!” Heather agreed enthusiastically. “And we’ll do ones for you and Hermione too!”
Hermione gasped, “Heather! My parents would kill me if I came home with a tattoo!”
“So?” Heather asked, seemingly not realizing the issue. “Don’t tell them? It’s not like you tell them about all of our adventures, right?”
“I do,” Hermione said, looking like she was only a second away from rolling her eyes. “They know exactly how dangerous the magical world has been for me. The only reason they let me keep coming back to Hogwarts is because it’s the law and because it’s the safest possible option for us at the moment. They’re scared half to death every September 1st.”
Heather didn’t seem quite sure how to respond to that, “Oh… I don’t tell the Dursleys anything… Even Petunia and she actually somewhat cares about me.”
“Oh, Heather,” Hermione sighed. “You know my mom says she’d adopt you in a second, right?”
“It’s not that bad. Vernon and Dudley have always acted like I don’t exist and Petunia sometimes treats me like her own daughter… It could certainly be worse,” Heather looked to the side sheepishly.
“It could also be better,” Hermione firmly reminded. “Have you even told Headmaster Dumbledore about your home life like you said you would last year? He’d do something. Especially with Sir-… your Godfather available.”
Heather and Hermione both shot glances at me. I was honestly starting to feel like I was intruding but I wanted to put in my two cents anyway, “He would. Dumbledore cares about you very much, Heather. I’m sure if he knew about your living conditions, he’d do something… anything to help. Even if he couldn’t do it directly.
“I… could talk to him about it for you? Maybe even do something myself. I’ve already basically taken you as my ward for the duration of the tournament. Who’s to say that arrangement can’t continue after it ends?”
Heather glanced at Hermione before quickly changing the subject to something less personal, “I’ll think about it… We’ve gotten side-tracked though. If I’m getting a tattoo, my best friend has to get one with me!”
“If it helps,” I added, seeing Hermione’s exasperated look return. “I could talk to your parents too. They might actually approve if they know it’s something meant to keep you safe. I can imagine having a method of protection that can’t be removed from you would go a long way to soothing some of their worries.”
Hermione calmed dramatically as she considered my words. It was as if a constant, physical weight had been lifted off her shoulders by the idea of her parents not having to worry about her as much.
“Yes, I think that would help quite a bit,” She said. “I could even show them our research and planning so they don’t think I’m trying to fool them.”
“I don’t see why not. Notes on Runes aren’t explicitly magic. Even if you showed someone outside your family, you could just say you’re researching medieval languages,” I confirmed.
“Hmm,” Hermione thought about it, trying and failing to ignore Heather’s pleading, puppy-dog eyes until she gave up and threw her hands into the air. “Fine! We’ll get tattoos together! But I want to get my parents’ permission first!”
“Yes!” Heather cheered, wrapping Hermione in a tight hug and bouncing them both in excitement.
A small smile crossed my face as I watched Heather celebrate her ‘victory’ and Hermione try to act cool through it all. It was good to see the tournament hadn’t sent Heather spiraling into depression or hopelessness. I hadn’t expected it to — Heather was too mentally strong for that, in my opinion — but I imagine it would have been a close thing if she had to do this without help.
Eventually, Heather calmed down and turned to me with an eager grin, “When and where can we start?”
“How about we send Hermione ahead to the Library to start researching Runes and Magical tattoos?” I suggested.
Heather cocked her head, “What will we be doing then?”
An almost sadistic smirk appeared on my face as the Room began to morph into a Muggle gym around us, “You and I have a date with physical conditioning to keep…”
“Ahh, shite…” Heather muttered under her breath. “As if Wood’s Quidditch conditioning wasn’t bad enough on its own…”
Comments
Lictor Magnus
I appreciate that you didn’t get too caught up in the grind. So many authors try to stretch things like that excursion into the forest into multiple chapters when in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter and delays character interaction, plot, and “plot.” Having one detailed encounter and then summaries for the rest and the gains was perfect.
