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HP: The Artisan's Path Chapter 94
🕑 Added 2024-12-21 07:49:49 +0000 UTCHi all,
Here’s the next chapter. Hogwarts deals with the aftermath of the battle and where has Ginny disappeared to?
Chapter 94
8th June
Harry's eyes fluttered open, consciousness returning slowly through a haze of pain. The familiar white ceiling and antiseptic smell of the infirmary gradually came into focus.
His body felt as though he'd been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs— every muscle screaming in protest at the slightest movement. The lingering effects of Dumbledore's Cruciatus Curse intertwined with the strain of pushing his Velocier skill beyond its limits left him wondering how he wasn't in more agony.
He was alive, and since no one was rushing around in panic, he assumed they'd won the battle.
As he attempted to push himself upright, his grandmother's firm but gentle hand pressed him back against the pillows.
"Stay still," Minerva said softly. Her face showed signs of exhaustion. "Madam Pomfrey says you need complete rest. The after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse aren't something to take lightly."
Harry took in the crowd surrounding his bed. His girlfriends formed a protective circle around him, their faces showing signs of exhaustion from the long night, while his other friends occupied nearby chairs.
"So, we won the battle?" Harry asked, his voice hoarse.
"Thanks to the Aurors' timely arrival," Hermione said, perching on the edge of his bed. "The whole castle's buzzing with stories about your fight against the Nightmare. And there are all sorts of wild theories about what happened with Dumbledore, though nobody seems to know the truth."
"Don't sell yourselves short," Minerva interjected. "The defence of the castle entrance was nothing short of remarkable. You and your friends showed extraordinary courage."
"Everyone's talking about Thibault too," Gabrielle added, stroking Harry's arm. “He’s staying in the fenced area next to the hut, lapping up all the attention. All the students love him.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. Was he the only one Thibault disliked?
He scanned the infirmary. The Weasley family huddled around George's bed, their worried voices carrying across the ward as Madam Pomfrey changed his bandages. His missing ear was wrapped in pristine white gauze, though spots of red had begun to seep through.
"How's Katie?" Harry asked, noticing the Gryffindor Chaser in a nearby bed, her shoulder heavily bandaged. She offered him a weak wave when she caught his eye.
"She'll recover," Daphne replied. "The curse was nasty, but Madam Pomfrey got to it quickly enough. A few more centimetres to the left and it would have been her neck."
Fawkes trilled softly from his perch on the bedpost, while Hedwig dozed beside him, her white feathers slightly ruffled from the night's events. The sight of them both safe brought a weak smile to Harry's face. His companions had made it through unscathed.
His eyes landed on a figure several beds down—Snape lay there, his chest wrapped in bandages that peaked out from under his hospital gown. The Potions master's usual scowl seemed even more pronounced.
"What happened to him?" Harry asked.
"Got hurt fighting some Obsidian members," Daphne explained. "After he took down Lockhart, he joined the battle outside. Fought like a demon, according to the other professors. Professor Vector says she's never seen anyone duel like that."
Harry nodded, recalling how he had seen Snape amid the chaos."Could you ask him if he found anything on Lockhart? But tell him to be careful with whatever he found. It might be dangerous."
Daphne squeezed his hand in understanding before rising to speak with him. Harry watched as she approached Snape's bed cautiously, noting how the professor's expression softened slightly when addressing his favourite student.
"Where's grandfather?" Harry asked, turning to his grandmother.
"Working with the Aurors," Minerva replied. "They're interrogating the captured criminals in the dungeons. It's going to be a long process. There's quite a lot to sort through."
Harry swallowed hard before asking his next question. "And Dumbledore? Is he really...?"
"Dead," Minerva confirmed quietly. "Whatever that creature was, it made certain of that. They've moved his body to a secure location for investigation."
Harry felt no remorse for Dumbledore's death. The monster who had haunted his childhood years was finally gone. Instead, his mind turned to more pressing matters. "What about the Centaurs?"
"The traitors are either dead or in custody," Minerva explained. "They'll face trial for breaking their oaths to Hogwarts. The loyal ones fought bravely, but they lost many of their herd. Firenze says it will take years for them to recover."
"The castle's absolutely crawling with people," Susan added from her chair. "Aurors, Ministry workers, concerned parents—just like our first year. Auntie has barely had a moment's rest since she arrived."
Harry glanced around the ward, noting the absence of one friend. "Where's Blaise?"
"His mother came to visit him," Hermione answered, adjusting Harry's pillows. "After everything that happened, she wanted to see if he was alright. Can't say I blame her."
“Mom’s here as well,” Neville said. “She’s helping out around the castle until the mess is sorted out.”
Madam Pomfrey bustled over, interrupting with a fresh round of potions. "Enough chatter. Mr Potter needs rest, as do all of you."
She shot pointed looks at Katie and George, who pretended not to notice.
"What about the damage?" Harry asked, grimacing at the bitter taste of a pain-relieving potion.
"The castle itself is fine," Minerva said."Though the grounds..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "The statues will need to be replaced, and there's significant spell damage near the forest's edge. The Ford Anglia finally gave up the ghost—quite literally drove itself to pieces protecting the school."
"Classes are suspended for the moment," Hermione added, correctly guessing his next question. "But we'll still have exams before the school year ends."
Harry couldn't help but smile at the relief in Hermione’s voice. Some things never changed.
"Now, all of you out," Madam Pomfrey commanded, shooing away his visitors. "Mr Potter needs proper rest to recover from the Cruciatus exposure. You can all come back this evening."
His girlfriends each kissed him goodbye, while his friends promised to return later. As they filed out, Harry caught snippets of their conversation about cleanup efforts and Ministry investigations.
"Grandmother," he called softly as Minerva turned to leave. "I’m glad you and grandfather are okay."
She paused, her eyes suspiciously bright. “So am I. You’re the reason Charlus is alive. He had already exhausted a great deal of his magic when Dumbledore confronted him."
As the hospital wing settled into silence, broken only by the occasional groan from other patients and Madam Pomfrey's bustling movements, Harry let his eyes drift shut. His body still ached, but he was alive. They all were.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Later that evening, Charlus visited Harry. His grandfather looked weary but determined as he cast privacy charms around them.
Charlus pulled a black book from his robes and tossed it onto Harry's hospital bed. A gaping hole pierced its centre, the edges charred and crumbling.
"Another one down," Charlus said. "This is the Horcrux Lockhart had in his possession. Snape handed it over when I asked him for it. He found it after their duel in the Entrance Hall."
Harry picked up the diary carefully, studying the damage. "Do you think Snape knows what it really is?"
"Almost certainly," Charlus replied. "But he didn't seem particularly interested in discussing it.”
Harry set the ruined diary aside. "So that's what was possessing Draco and Lockhart.”
Charlus nodded, his expression darkening. "And it nearly succeeded in whatever it was planning. We were lucky Snape managed to subdue him when he did."
“Is Lockhart in custody?”
"That's correct," Charlus said. "He's at St Mungo's, closely monitored by the Aurors. They're treating him for the effects of possession. Once he recovers, he'll face formal charges."
“Finally, some justice.” Harry grinned. “What's happening with Lucius? He's the one who planted the diary at Hogwarts in the first place. Is he going to be punished for that along with his Obsidian activities?"
Charlus chuckled. “I've already handed him over to Amelia, along with everything we gathered during his interrogation. The diary was just the tip of the iceberg. Dark artifacts, records of bribes, and documentation of his work with Obsidian. Amelia looked like Christmas had come early when I delivered him. She's been trying to build a case against him for years."
"Good riddance.”
Charlus' expression grew serious, the brief moment of satisfaction fading. "We need to discuss what happened with Dumbledore. That creature that killed him—I've never seen anything like it. The way it just appeared, wielding the Hallows..."
He ran a hand through his greying hair. "It must be some form of necromantic magic, like what happened with Salazar Slytherin."
"It knew about the Deathly Hallows. Called the Elder Wand 'mine' when it took it from Dumbledore."
"And it had your Invisibility Cloak. The one that vanished months ago. I don't believe in coincidences, Harry."
"I have a theory," Harry said. "Remember the stories about the Peverell brothers? What if... what if that was Death itself?"
Charlus' eyebrows shot up. "Death? That's—"
"Mental, I know," Harry interrupted. "But think about it. The being appeared out of nowhere, wielding the Invisibility Cloak. It knew about the Elder Wand. And most importantly, it said this world was 'alien' to it."
“I doubt Death, if such a being even exists, could take a physical form.”
“Well, it’s only a theory. Whatever it is, I’m glad it’s lost its memories. I have a feeling it won’t be our friend when it does regain them. Even if it saved our lives inadvertently.”
Before Charlus could respond, Fawkes flamed into the infirmary with an evening edition of the Daily Prophet. The headline blazed across the front page: "BATTLE AT HOGWARTS: DUMBLEDORE'S LAST STAND".
“It’s rare to get an evening addition,” Harry observed.
"The Daily Prophet must be thrilled. Incidents like this boost their sales," Charlus remarked as he grabbed the paper. "They’re calling it the Battle of Hogwarts. The Ministry is in disarray. Amelia and the Minister have been managing the political mess all day."
Harry scanned the article. The Prophet painted a dramatic picture of the battle, though much of it was speculation. They seemed particularly interested in what happened between the Potters and Dumbledore.
"What's the Ministry's response?" Harry asked.
"Additional security measures for the school," Charlus replied. Some are suggesting that the school should close and that they should go back to teaching their children at home. There is a lot of mistrust with the school."
"But that's ridiculous," Harry protested. "We successfully defended the castle! It wasn’t our fault Obsidian invaded it."
"Indeed it wasn’t," came Amelia Bones's voice as she approached their bed. "Which is why I've spent the day arguing against closure. The students' defence of the entrance was exemplary."
She settled into a chair, removing her monocle to rub her eyes. "The Minister wants to award Orders of Merlin to all the students involved. Third Class, naturally, but still significant for ones so young."
Harry frowned. "Give it to the other students but leave me out of it. I already have an Order of Merlin."
"If that is what you want,” Amelia agreed. “You need to remember that these awards serve a greater purpose. The Order of Merlin isn't merely about recognition—it's a symbol that reminds our world that even in its darkest moments, courage and unity can prevail."
She paused, her expression softening as she studied Harry's pale face. "But enough about politics. How are you managing the after-effects? The Cruciatus Curse is no small matter."
Harry's hand trembled slightly as he reached for his water glass. "The Cruciatus... it's not something you can prepare for, is it?"
"No," Amelia said softly. "It's not. Take the time you need to recover, both physically and mentally. The same goes for your friends."
As if summoned by her words, Harry's girlfriends returned to the hospital wing. They'd been taking turns staying with him, but now they arrived together, their faces showing the strain of recent events.
Daphne immediately noticed his trembling hand and took the water glass from him, holding it steady as he drank. Hermione pulled out a notebook filled with research on curse after-effects, while Gabrielle simply curled up beside him on the bed, offering silent comfort. Susan approached her aunt, engaging in a quiet conversation.
Harry settled back in bed and closed his eyes, feeling relaxed as he let sleep take over, comforted by his girlfriend beside him.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The following morning, a commotion erupted in the castle. Daphne burst the infirmary, her face flushed from running, nearly colliding with Madam Pomfrey who was checking on Katie's bandages.
"Ginny has gone missing," she announced. "No one's seen her since last night. Not even Luna or Astoria know where she is, and they're inseparable these days."
Harry sat up, a wave of dread sweeping over him. "Have you checked the Marauder's Map?"
"Already did. Her name's not on it anywhere. The whole family is searching the castle with the professors. Mrs Weasley's beside herself."
Harry frowned, his mind racing. If Dumbledore hadn't been confirmed dead, he would have suspected the old wizard's involvement. The former headmaster's obsession with Ginny had been obvious.
"Could someone else have taken her?” Harry asked. “Dumbledore was working with Obsidian."
Before Daphne could respond, Nearly Headless Nick drifted through the wall. The ghost beckoned to Harry urgently.
"Lady Ravenclaw needs to show you something," Nick said. "It has to do with Miss Weasley’s disappearance."
Harry grimaced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His muscles protested violently, sending sharp pains through his body, but he managed to stand. Daphne moved to help him, but he waved her off.
"I'll be fine," he assured her, though his legs trembled slightly. "Let me see what Nick wants. If anyone asks, tell them I'm just stretching my legs."
Harry headed for the kitchens and spoke the chamber’s password, causing the hidden entrance to reveal itself. He walked down the passage to the door at the end, which opened as he approached.
The scene that greeted him made his breath catch. Ginny sat cross-legged on the floor, her fiery red hair stark against her unnaturally pale face. Her eyes were closed in what appeared to be a trance-like state. Her right hand was extended towards the rift that hovered above the ward stone, blood slowly streaming from a cut in her palm.
The rift fluctuated wildly, its colours shifting and swirling in unnatural patterns. The magic in the air was so thick he could almost taste it. Lady Ravenclaw hovered nearby, watching the process with intense concentration.
"What the hell is going on?" Harry demanded.
Lady Ravenclaw turned to him. "Ah, Harry. It’s good to see you after your ordeal. You performed splendidly."
"Answer my question.”
Lady Ravenclaw sighed. "The trouble I've been having with the wardstone—it's more serious than I initially let on. The rift is closing, like so many others across the world. Watch."
She gestured towards the rift, and Harry could see what she meant. Beyond the wild fluctuations caused by Ginny's blood, there was an underlying shrinkage, as if the edges were slowly but inexorably drawing inward. The magical tear in reality was repairing itself.
"I estimate less than a year before it seals completely," Lady Ravenclaw continued.
"And if that happens?" Harry asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"Hogwarts would cease to function. Without the rift's magic, the castle's magic would fail."
She gestured towards Ginny. "I've spent months searching for a solution, testing countless theories. The rift's deterioration has been accelerating, and none of my attempts to stabilise it proved successful. Yesterday, when I ventured out to check on you after the battle, I stumbled across Miss Weasley. I discovered that she possessed a remarkable gift. The moment she walked past me, I could sense it—her magical signature resonated with the rift in a way I'd never seen before. She's a Rift Binder—her blood can prevent rifts from closing."
Harry's eyes narrowed as he watched the steady stream of blood flowing from Ginny's palm, seeming to vanish into the rift itself. The magical tear brightened with each drop it absorbed, its edges becoming more defined.
"How is that even possible?"
"Rift Binders are incredibly rare," Lady Ravenclaw explained, her voice taking on a lecturer's tone. "They possess blood that carries traces of the same energy that flows through rifts. When introduced to a failing rift, their blood acts as a catalyst, reinforcing the tear in reality and preventing it from healing."
She paused, studying Ginny's peaceful face. "I suspect she has fae blood in her lineage, though you'd need to ask her family to confirm this. Although I suspect they wouldn’t know themselves."
Harry's mind raced as pieces began falling into place. "Is this why Dumbledore was so interested in her? He must have known what she was."
Lady Ravenclaw nodded slowly. "It would explain his obsession. Someone with her abilities would be invaluable to any wizard seeking to manipulate rifts. The fae realms hold powers we can barely comprehend—having control over the doorways to those realms..." She trailed off meaningfully.
"But how would he have known?" Harry pressed.
“Dumbledore was quite knowledgeable about obscure magical traits. Perhaps he recognised the signs. Or..." She hesitated. "There is a way to test for fae blood, though it’s considered dark magic."
Harry felt sick as the implications of her words sank in. Had Dumbledore been planning to use Ginny as Lady Ravenclaw did? Or did he have darker intentions? What was Dumbledore planning for the rifts? Whatever it was, it likely wasn’t for anything good.
"Did you get her parent's permission before abducting their daughter and draining her blood like a vampire?” Harry asked. “They're tearing the castle apart looking for her, thinking she might have been hurt."
Lady Ravenclaw had the grace to look abashed. "Ah. In my excitement over finding a solution, I may have overlooked that detail. The opportunity was too perfect to pass up.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Is she in any danger from donating her blood? She's already quite pale."
"No, I'm monitoring her carefully," Lady Ravenclaw assured him, moving closer to Ginny's still form. "The trance state prevents any pain, and I'll stop the process well before it becomes dangerous. She's quite safe here.”
"Stop it now," Harry said. "Wait until you have her parents' permission. Unless it's so urgent it needs to be done this instant?"
"No," Lady Ravenclaw admitted after a moment's hesitation. "We can pause for now. The rift isn’t in danger of closing anytime soon."
She moved to Ginny's side and gently touched the girl's shoulder, her ghostly hand seeming to gain solidity as it made contact. Ginny's eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding their brown depths as the stream of blood stopped flowing towards the rift.
“Lady Ravenclaw?" Ginny asked groggily. "Have we already finished stabilising the gate?"
"It will be fine for the moment," Harry said, moving to help her up. “We need to let your family know you're safe. They're worried sick about you."
"I apologise for my impulsive actions," Lady Ravenclaw said. "I've spent so long as a ghost, I sometimes forget the proper protocols for dealing with the living. The fate of Hogwarts has been weighing heavily on my mind."
Harry shook his head. "We'll sort this out later. Right now, I need to get Ginny back to her family before they alert the Ministry that she's missing. After everything that happened, that's the last thing we need."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
In the headmaster's office, Lady Ravenclaw's ghostly form hovered near Flitwick's desk as she finished explaining Ginny's unique ability. Mrs Weasley's face had grown increasingly red throughout the explanation, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.
"Absolutely not!" she exploded, rising from her chair. "You're not using my daughter as some sort of magical blood bank! And you," she rounded on Lady Ravenclaw, "how dare you take her without our permission!"
Mr Weasley placed a calming hand on his wife's arm, though his own expression was troubled. "Magical blood isn't something to be given lightly. The implications of using blood magic, even for something beneficial..."
"But I want to help!" Ginny protested from her chair. "If Hogwarts needs my blood to survive—"
"Be quiet, Ginevra!" Mrs Weasley snapped. "You're too young to understand the implications.”
Harry stepped forward. "Lady Ravenclaw, could the blood be given in smaller amounts over a longer period? That might be safer for Ginny."
The ghost considered this, her form flickering slightly as she thought. "Yes. A small amount every two weeks over the next year or two should be sufficient to stabilise the rift completely. This would have no ill effects on Ginny's health.”
"That's not the point," Mrs Weasley insisted, pacing the office. "She's just a child!"
Flitwick cleared his throat from behind his desk. "Normally, I would be against using a student in this manner as well, Mrs Weasley. But this concerns the continuation of Hogwarts itself. Without a stable rift, the castle's magic will fail. Perhaps we could provide Miss Weasley with an income to make up for the inconvenience?"
Before either parent could respond, Harry interjected. "As the Founders' Heir, I believe it's my responsibility to ensure Hogwarts' continuation. I will pay Ginny a sum of 100 galleons for every blood donation she gives."
Ginny's eyes lit up instantly. "I'll do it!"
"That's not a small sum of money," Minerva observed quietly from her position by the window. "It would certainly help with the family expenses."
Mrs Weasley wavered, clearly torn between protecting her daughter and the substantial sum being offered. Mr Weasley looked thoughtful, his fingers drumming against the arm of his chair.
"The money would go into a savings account for Ginny," he said. "And if it's just a small amount every two weeks..."
"Under proper medical supervision," Flitwick added quickly. "Madam Pomfrey would oversee each donation. We could draw up a proper contract with all necessary safeguards."
Mrs Weasley's resistance crumbled as she looked at her daughter's eager face. "You really want to do this, Ginny?"
"Yes, Mum! Please? This money will help out a lot."
Harry grinned. Ginny’s motivation had quickly shifted from helping Hogwarts to earning money. Not that he cared if the girl wanted to look out for her interests.
"Very well," Mrs Weasley sighed, sinking back into her chair. "But at the first sign of any ill effects..."
"We'll stop immediately," Lady Ravenclaw assured her. "You have my word."
The meeting wrapped up not long after that. Harry turned to the Weasley parents and inquired about any possible fae lineage in their family, but they looked puzzled and said they had no idea what he meant. It seemed that Ginny’s connection to the fae would remain a mystery for now. He made a mental note to investigate the matter over the summer holidays.
Lady Ravenclaw intercepted him in the corridor before she returned to her chamber.
"There's another reason why I wanted to prevent the rift from closing," she said.
"What do you mean?"
"Did you know that when a rift closes, it creates a temporary gateway to the fae realm?" Her ghostly eyes fixed on his face, studying his reaction.
Harry froze. His mind flashed back to the Peverell journal he'd read, which detailed the man's terrifying journey through a rift and his encounter with something that had killed his companions.
"You're not serious?"
Lady Ravenclaw's expression remained grave. "I assure you, I am. The gateway doesn't stay open for long, which is why it's not common knowledge. Most rifts close without incident because the window of opportunity is so brief. But a rift this size, beneath a magical school..." She let the implications hang in the air.
"Something could come through," Harry finished.
"Precisely."
Harry's mind raced with the implications. A way to travel to the fae realm. What secrets lay on the other side? Ancient magic, forgotten knowledge, perhaps even answers about the Source's true nature.
The rational part of his brain screamed that this was madness. The Peverell journal had made it clear how dangerous such ventures could be. Yet he couldn't squash the surge of excitement that rose within him. After everything he'd faced—the prospect of exploring an entirely different realm called to something deep inside him.
"I must be mental," he muttered.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
20th June
Harry crouched at the edge of the Black Lake, peering into its murky depths. He'd been trying to convince the Giant Squid to retrieve the Nightmare's collar for the past ten minutes. During the battle, he'd noticed the metallic band around its neck before the Squid had dragged it underwater. Understanding how someone had managed to control such a powerful magical creature could prove invaluable.
Besides, he needed something to show for his efforts. The Potter Mobile had taken severe damage during the confrontation. The repairs would take weeks, even with magic, and he'd spent months perfecting the vehicle's enchantments.
"Come on," he muttered. "It must still be down there somewhere."
While he waited, Harry reflected on the happenings of the past fortnight.
The interrogation of captured Obsidian members had proved enlightening. The attack had involved more than half their inner circle and two-thirds of their mercenary force—a significant portion of their organisation. Only the top three members, known simply as One, Two and Three, had been absent.
The interrogations had exposed multiple motives for the attack. Eight's personal vendetta against Harry had played a part, as had the organisation's grudge against Charlus Potter for killing Grindelwald. However, their primary objective had been far more sinister.
They'd planned to take the students hostage, particularly those from noble families, intending to extract substantial ransoms. The others would have been sold into slavery. The thought made Harry's stomach turn. Additionally, they'd hoped to secure the castle to search for the Cursed Vaults at their leisure, their interest in Lancelot driving them to extreme measures.
The failed assault had left Obsidian crippled but not destroyed. While they needn't fear another attack on the same scale, the possibility of retaliation remained. Still, the Order had gathered enough intelligence about the remaining members to keep them in hiding for the foreseeable future.
As for Andrei, his grandfather had received news from Anton Paasio, head of the European Artisans Guild. Andrei had vanished shortly after being summoned to face charges of corruption and criminal association. The guild's investigation, prompted by Harry's warnings about Andrei's true nature, had uncovered extensive evidence of bribery, theft of guild resources, and abuse of power. Harry suspected that Andrei, the Obsidian member from the artisan competition, was among the top three inner circle members.
Harry had managed to salvage one of the spider artifacts used to cut off Hogwarts from the outside world. He was keen to study it, but revision for exams had taken priority. Both he and Hermione faced the challenge of preparing for their magical and Muggle examinations simultaneously. Thankfully, classes had been light since the attack, giving them ample time to revise.
They had just finished their end-of-year exams. Harry was confident that he would be among the top students in his school year but he would have to wait for the results.
A disturbance in the water drew his attention. The Giant Squid's tentacle broke the surface, holding a metal collar. Harry accepted it carefully.
"Thanks," he said, tossing a cooked leg of lamb into the water as payment. The offering disappeared beneath the surface with barely a splash.
Harry examined the collar briefly before storing it in his inventory for later study. It would have to wait its turn—his list of tasks grew longer by the day.
A shadow passed overhead, causing him to look up. An eagle swooped down, its wingspan impressive as it landed beside him. The bird extended its leg, revealing a letter bearing the seal of the American Artisan Guild.
Harry accepted the letter, offering the eagle a piece of the lamb he'd brought for the Giant Squid. As the bird tore into the meat, he broke the seal and began to read:
Dear Mr Potter,
Your recent achievements at the European Under-Eighteens Artisan Competition have caught our attention. We were particularly impressed by your innovative approach to the Resonator problem, which has generated significant discussion in the American artisan community.
We would like to extend an invitation for you to spend six weeks this summer at our headquarters in Boston, studying Magitech—the fusion of magic and Muggle technology. As you may be aware, America leads the field in this area due to our more relaxed stance on combining magical and non-magical innovations.
During your stay, you would have access to our research facilities and the opportunity to work alongside leading experts in the field. We believe your unique perspective and demonstrated skill in combining different magical disciplines could benefit from exposure to our methods.
All expenses would be covered, including accommodation and materials.
Please respond by owl before July 1st if you wish to accept this opportunity.
Yours sincerely,
Elizabeth Chen
Head of Research and Development
American Artisan Guild
Harry lowered the letter, considering the offer. The chance to study Magitech properly, rather than piecing together techniques from books and trial and error, was tempting. The Americans' willingness to experiment with technology could open up entirely new avenues for his artifacts.
But his summer was already looking complicated. Sheena had reminded him just yesterday about her offer to join the Knights' ranks when he turned fifteen.
He had other commitments as well. He still had several projects he needed to finish. Then there was the matter of his Head of House training—a responsibility that had grown more pressing since claiming the Founders' titles. His grandfather had made it clear that managing five titles would require extensive preparation.
Still, an opportunity like this doesn't come along every day. He thought his girlfriends would enjoy exploring America. After everything they had experienced, a break from Europe would be refreshing.
The eagle watched him expectantly, clearly waiting for a response.
"Sorry," Harry said. "I'll need some time to think about this."
The bird seemed to shrug before launching itself into the air, heading for the owlery.
Six weeks in America would mean putting other plans on hold, but the knowledge he could gain might be worth it. He'd need to discuss it with his grandparents.
Despite his crowded summer schedule, Harry felt a surge of anticipation for what lay ahead.
So, what do you think? In the next chapter, the summer holidays begin.
Thanks for reading.
