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Myrtle's gift was more than just a present from a girl to a boy; it was something unique and almost impossible. My magical power and control over magic both increased. The morning after Halloween and its intriguing conclusion, I tried to determine if anything within me had changed.

 

And yes... something had. My magic now responded much more easily and quickly. It’s difficult to put into words. The best comparison would be like applying grease to a squeaky mechanism designed to open something. Previously, I had to push the "door" with both hands; now it spins with just a light nudge of a finger. It’s an abstract comparison, but not a bad one.

 

In addition, my skills in certain areas also improved. This is even harder to describe, but not more difficult than a rebirth. For example, Transfiguration became much easier for me, and my coordination and dexterity in spellcasting improved. Charms also became easier, though I wouldn’t call it a significant leap. I think I could have reached the same level after several months of active practice in this area of magic.

 

But, let's say, my personal power grew by about thirty to forty percent. This is a huge increase, which I believe places me among the upper echelons of wizards in terms of strength. Skills will come with time, I hope.

 

Additionally, my Archive magic became more efficient at loading and analyzing books, with a pleasant ten percent increase in speed.

 

Myrtle’s gift quickly proved its value when I was studying Dumbledore’s books. They were both fascinating and extremely useful for deepening my understanding of Transfiguration. Practicing some of the more intriguing spells using the headmaster’s notes could enhance the quality of Transfiguration by several orders of magnitude. In class, the increase in my power became apparent, as spells were now much easier and faster to cast.

 

The other students didn’t notice. I’m not sure if the teachers did, but I suspect they did. However, they didn’t mention anything or even hint that they had noticed.

 

Oh well.

 

The following weekend, I visited Hogsmeade with Isolde. Her maid, Dorsani, accompanied us but stayed mostly in the background. Hogsmeade is a small village popular with students since, starting from the third year, they can visit on weekends.

 

The village is entirely inhabited by wizards, so spells can be cast freely without worrying that someone might see and misunderstand. The village consists of several streets. The main one is High Street, home to a very popular candy shop among students called "Sweet Kingdom." There’s also the stationery store "Pisarro," the town hall with an owl post, and several eateries with different themes. The most popular spot is the "Three Broomsticks" pub, owned by Charlotte Rosmerta, the object of many teenage boys’ fantasies. She’s a sexy woman who doesn’t shy away from showing it.

 

Of course, there are many other interesting shops that students love to visit and spend their savings.

 

"Shall we go to a tea shop?" I asked Isolde.

 

"Rosy Lee’s Teabag?" she asked.

 

"Sure," I confirmed.

 

The tea shop wasn’t on the main street, but it was still quite popular among students who wanted a quiet place outside of Hogwarts. It offered a wide variety of tea drinks, making it a decent spot to relax.

 

The building was decorated in light tones, which pleasantly set it apart from the others. Soft music played inside, just loud enough to be soothing. A few students were already there, engaged in their own activities.

 

We chose a table by the far wall and waited for the waitress. A short girl approached us, bearing a strong resemblance to the owner—likely her daughter or some close relative. I’m inclined to think she was the daughter.

 

"What would you like to order?" she asked.

 

"Two mint-apple teas steeped on white leaves of fire-grass," Isolde ordered confidently.

 

The waitress jotted it down in her notebook—or rather, the quill floating behind her did.

 

"I’ll have a regular green tea," I added.

 

Our order arrived about fifteen minutes later. During that time, conversation didn’t really flow. Even when the tea was served, no one was in a hurry to start talking.

 

"When will you be able to fulfill our agreement?" she asked, breaking the silence.

 

"As soon as we finish our tea," I replied, nodding toward the cups of hot liquid. "We’ll head to the Shrieking Shack and take care of it there."

 

"Alright," she agreed.

 

The conversation didn’t continue, which was fine by me. Sometimes it’s nice to just sit in silence and clear your mind. Afterward, I paid for all three of us since it was quite inexpensive, and we headed to the Shrieking Shack.

 

Along the way, we passed other students. They looked at our group with interest, observed us closely, and then whispered among themselves after we had passed.

 

The Shrieking Shack was located on the outskirts of the village, perched on a small rocky rise surrounded by cliffs and forest. Rumor has it that terrible dark creatures inhabit the house, howling especially loudly during bright full moons.

 

I wasn’t worried, as the area had long been checked for dangers and traps. I found nothing, which was somewhat reassuring. The only thing I did discover was a passage leading directly to Hogwarts.

 

Overall, I believe the rumors are just a clever legend created by some pranksters from the school to scare the residents of Hogsmeade.

 

"Well then," I began. "The topic I wanted to discuss is interesting, I think."

 

With a wave of my wand, I transfigured a comfortable chair and immediately sat down in it.

 

"Please, sit down," I nodded to Isolde and Dorsani.

 

The girls didn’t need to be asked twice. They also transfigured chairs for themselves to sit on.

 

"Let me tell you about magic and how it relates to space," I began. My wand was ready to leave visible notes in the air. It’s a simple spell, but quite impressive and effective when you need to convey some information to others. "What do you think space is?"

 

"A gap between two objects?" Isolde asked.

 

"That’s the right answer, but only in a very limited sense," I nodded at her. "Space is an objective reality, as well as a form of matter that can be characterized by extension and volume. Why do I mention this? When a wizard Apparates, they squeeze through this reality, like a drill through wood."

 

For a whole hour, I gave them a lecture on the first chapter of Emil Alhazred’s book. The topic was not simple, but interesting, allowing for a better understanding of what space is and how to influence it. At the end, I received my five hundred Galleons.

 

At the next Apparition practice, both Isolde and Dorsani showed considerable progress. It seems they both remembered my words and took all the theory to heart. The instructor was pleased.

 

At the same time, I received another note from Headmaster Dumbledore, inviting me to meet him in his office to discuss some matters. Of course, it was an invitation I couldn’t refuse, nor would I want to.

 

The headmaster's office was, as always, guarded by a gargoyle. As soon as I gave the password, it opened, allowing me to enter. I ascended the steps and found myself in Dumbledore’s office.

 

The headmaster seemed to be expecting me. He greeted me and immediately nodded at a chair.

 

"Well, my dear friend," he began. "Your application for the Olympiad has already been registered. You just need to sign the last few documents that will fully confirm your readiness to participate."

 

I was a bit surprised by this but still accepted the documents the elder wizard handed me. The first form that caught my attention was a waiver releasing the Olympiad organizers from any liability if something happens to a participant—in other words, they wouldn’t be responsible for any injuries or illnesses that might occur.

 

"Headmaster Dumbledore," I asked, "what does this document mean?"

 

"Excellent question," he replied with a smile, adjusting his glasses. As he did, I noticed the bells on his beard jingled, and I felt a gentle touch on my mind.

 

"Headmaster?" I looked at him suspiciously.

 

"I see you’ve started studying Occlumency," he chuckled. "Forgive me, but I needed to test your readiness for sudden attacks. You see, your opponents will be young wizards from all the major schools in the world. Each of them wants to win this Olympiad, and that’s why the organizers don’t take responsibility. Why do you think that is?"

 

"Other students will use all sorts of 'fun' methods to eliminate the competition?" I asked.

 

"Ten points to Gryffindor," the headmaster chuckled. "That’s exactly right. When I participated in the Olympiad, only a little more than half of the students made it to the final stage alive."

 

"Some participants died?" I asked.

 

"Yes," the headmaster nodded. "One participant was poisoned with some intricate potion. Another was Apparated into a den of aroused trolls. You can imagine what happened to her. And the other deaths weren’t much more pleasant."

 

"I see."

 

It seems I need to prepare not only my knowledge but also to protect myself from such things. I wouldn’t want to end up with aroused trolls. So, I’ll need to buy some artifacts, potions, and perhaps some enchanted items.

 

But overall, I liked how the headmaster smoothly diverted the conversation away from the fact that he used Legilimency on me. If I’m not mistaken, that’s not a very legal activity. Although I’m studying it myself, so I’m in no position to judge.

 

"And yes, let’s get back to your mind defense," Albus Dumbledore continued. "I can say that you’re at a pretty good level. It should be enough to defend against attacks from other Olympiad participants."

 

"Right now, this Olympiad sounds more like survival than a knowledge test," I remarked.

 

"The Guild wants to see the skills of each student and choose the winners from them," the headmaster explained. "It’s a traditional method that dates back to Ancient Greece. And let’s say, it works very well."

 

"I see," I sighed.

 

After that, I signed the document, agreeing to the terms. The following documents were more standard and not particularly noteworthy. I had to sign off on the Guild receiving information about my school grades and a written consent to participate.

 

When all the signatures were in place, the headmaster filed them away in a rather thin folder.

 

"Now, we need to choose the days when you’ll come to me for preparation lessons," Dumbledore said. "Since, besides the school, I also have work with the International Confederation of Wizards and the Ministry, I’ll be able to dedicate about two days a week, four hours each."

 

"That’s only thirty-two hours," I pointed out.

 

"Professor McGonagall will also take care of your additional preparation," the headmaster said. "You’ll work out the schedule with her."

 

"Ah, then that’s fine."

 

The head of my house will be able to help me with some issues. Overall, I have no doubt that I’ll be able to ace the theory better than all the other participants. But I’ll need to work a bit more on the practical side, bringing it to the highest possible level by the time I head to Zurich.

 

"Then, I won’t keep you any longer," the headmaster nodded. "I’ll send a note with the time and day for the first training session."

 

"Understood. Thank you, Headmaster," I responded as Dumbledore stood.

 

Dumbledore also stood. He raised his hand, and a phoenix landed on it. The next second, he disappeared in a burst of flames. In an instant, the office became empty. Only the various artifacts and portraits of previous headmasters showed that there was still life here.

 

"Hey, boy," a female portrait called out to me. It was the portrait of Elizabeth Burke, headmistress of Hogwarts from 1479 to 1517. She was dressed in a black dress with a strange white collar-like decoration on her neck. On her head was a tall, pointed hat that hid her fiery red hair. "Come here."

 

I approached.

 

"Madam Former Headmistress," I greeted her. The other headmasters also looked at me with interest, waiting to hear what one of the headmistresses would say.

 

"So," she began. "A piece of advice. You see your first opponent at the Olympiad. Quickly cast Cruciatus, and then Imperius. If anyone complains, hit them with Cruciatus too. That’s how I won the Potions Olympiad."

 

"Old hag!" exclaimed Fiverly Andercliff, another headmaster from 1617 to 1699. He died in his bed, just like many other headmasters. "What kind of cow dung advice are you giving! Here’s what you do! You see your opponent, and if they aren’t ready to hand you first place, Hellfire should persuade them. And if not, you can use Pharaoh Nincher's Rot."

 

"Shut your mouth, Fiverly," another witch intervened. This was Phillida Spore, who was headmistress from 1379 to 1408. "You understand nothing but destruction and threats. Here, you need to act subtly. Your method, Elizabeth, is also not the best, though it works."

 

"I was the one who destroyed ten thousand Ottomans at Zenta!" Fiverly shouted immediately. "I was the one who fought Mustafa II! If it weren’t for me, Prince Eugene wouldn’t have won!"

 

"Yes, yes, we all know that," Phillida waved her hand dismissively. "You were just hired. You left the school for a whole week, which was completely irresponsible."

 

"Hmph," he turned away.

 

"But never mind," Phillida sighed. "Timothy, listen, I participated in the Transfiguration Olympiad. My advice is this: gather a small company of your loyal warriors. Take a cook with supplies, a few maids to warm your bed... who else. Hire yourself some bloodsuckers for night guards. Then look for quick allies among the other participants. As soon as they’re no longer needed, a knife in the back—figuratively, of course. That’s all for my advice. Don’t disgrace Hogwarts."

 

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded.

 

"And I still insist on Hellfire as a solution to problems," Director Andercliff said more calmly.

 

"Thank you for your advice," I nodded to them. "I’ll consider it."

 

After that, I quickly left the office since I didn’t want to talk to the portraits of historical relics anymore. They had great advice, but I don’t think it works in the modern world. It’s better to get advice from the headmaster or someone who’s still alive and has participated in this Olympiad.

 

"Ooh-hoo-hoo," a ghost appeared from the floor. "Good evening, Mr. Jody."

 

"Good evening," I replied. It was the Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff.

 

"I have a small request for you," the ghost said, lowering itself to the ground, becoming more human. There was a slight sadness on its face that was hard to explain.

 

"I’ll listen," I nodded. As I’ve learned, you need to maintain excellent relations with ghosts, especially if they come to you. The example of Myrtle was vivid in this regard. Maybe I’ll get something from him too, and if not, it’s no problem. It will come back in some way in the future.

 

"A student from my house is having a hard time right now," he began. "We ghosts know that you helped little Myrtle. Could you help a student from my house?"

 

"What happened?" I asked.

 

"I’m not a healer of hearts," the Friar said. "And I can’t say."

 

"Alright, I’ll try," I nodded.

 

"Follow me," the ghost threw and slowly floated down the corridor.

 

Following the Fat Friar wasn’t easy. He moved quickly, trying to reach the student who needed help as soon as possible. I’m sure if it weren’t for me, he would have been there already, just slipping through the walls and streams. But, I’m here.

 

We ended up on the second floor and immediately headed towards the girls’ bathroom that no one ever used.

 

"She’s in there," the Friar said quietly. "Please help her."

 

The next moment he dissolved into the wall, but I could still feel his watchful gaze. It’s a strange feeling, to be honest.

 

Approaching the door, I listened. Quiet sobbing sounds came from the bathroom. I think I understand why the Fat Friar called me. I’ll have to comfort a crying person. Judging by the fact that this is a girls' bathroom, it will be some girl.

 

I exhaled and inhaled, preparing myself. Slowly, I pushed the door open and slipped inside. Immediately, I could see the shattered mirrors, broken wooden stalls between the toilets, and the faucets twisted off, with water dripping from them. But my attention was drawn to a familiar sixth-year girl in the corner. She sat with her head buried in her knees, crying.

 

After calming myself down a bit, I approached her and sat down nearby. The crying stopped instantly, and she stared at me with tear-stained eyes. The mascara had smudged a bit under her eyes, creating a somewhat strange picture.

 

"Tonks," I addressed her and hugged her. "What happened?"

 

"You came too?" she asked angrily, trying to break free, but I didn’t let her.

 

"No, I heard you crying," I told her and repeated the question. "What happened?"

 

"Are you going to make fun of me too? Huh?" she tried to break free again, but I didn’t let her. "Let go."

 

"No," I replied and held her closer. "I’m not going to make fun of you. Tell me what happened."

 

I started gently stroking her, still feeling the extreme tension in her body. Besides, since I had almost full physical contact, I could try to calm her down a bit using my limited knowledge of Legilimency.

 

Continuing to stroke her, I used this opportunity. It was difficult, but I held on. After a while, I felt Tonks slowly start to relax.

 

"So, what happened? Will you tell me? I’m ready to listen to you."

 

"Alright," Tonks said quietly, but this time without trying to break free from my embrace. "Anthony Bollocks asked me out on a date. I thought he really liked me, just like my other housemates, but I was wrong. Today was supposed to be our second date. The first one went really well."

 

Tonks continued talking, and I felt a bit uncomfortable that she was discussing her dates with another person in such a situation. But I buried my displeasure deep inside and kept listening, occasionally asking leading questions to show I was interested in hearing her story.

 

"And today, I walked in, prepared myself, and saw him screwing Lily! That bitch!"

 

Lily was a Hufflepuff student considered one of the school beauties. Not on Isolde’s level, but still.

 

"I felt anger," she said quietly. "And then they just poured some potion on me that destroyed my control over my Metamorphmagus abilities. After that, I started turning into a hunchbacked, crooked freak."

 

I noticed this but didn’t react. Every person must be able to overcome their inner biases in such situations. Especially in such situations.

 

"They took pictures and left," she said.

 

Now that’s a rather unpleasant situation, to be honest.

 

"Let me show you how I looked," Tonks said and gently removed my hand.

 

Then I saw her talent. And to be honest, the freedom with which she changes herself is amazing! You’d have to be a real degenerate to mock such a talent. Although, what else can you expect from people who won’t achieve anything special in their lives? Anthony is a Quidditch player, and not a very good one. Lily is only concerned with clothes and other things related to fashion. I’m sure their parents paid for them.

 

The next moment, Tonks transformed into a cute and attractive girl. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her figure was neat and harmonious, which is a rare thing. She certainly can’t be called a freak.

 

"What do you think?" she asked, feeling my attentive gaze.

 

"You’re a beautiful girl," I said. It seemed that was exactly what she was waiting to hear. The way her eyes "lit up" and her face "brightened" was telling. "What they told you isn’t true."

 

"Really?" she asked, still not fully believing me.

 

"Really."

 

Standing up, I approached her and pushed her against the wall. Then I pressed closer, not allowing her to move away. I ran one hand along her soft and beautiful face, and with the other, I held her by the waist. The next second, I kissed her.

 

It was unexpected for her, but Tonks didn’t hesitate. She immediately tried to respond. Clearly, she was inexperienced, but that didn’t matter. Her joy and pleasure were almost palpable in the air. For a second, I gave my hands some freedom, and the girl nearly exploded with happiness.

 

Pulling away from her, I stroked her face again and took a step back.

 

"But aren’t you dating Isolde?" she suddenly asked, snapping back to reality.

 

"No," I replied. "We’re not dating..."

 

"Then what was that duel about?" she asked, adjusting her robe.

 

"Some fool from Slytherin thought he could dominate me," I chuckled. "But it turned out the other way around."

 

"Everyone was talking about it," Tonks said. A wand appeared in her hand, and she quickly started fixing her face. "So, are we dating now?"

 

Now that’s a tough question. Why should I tie myself down with such commitments?

 

"Maybe," I replied, not giving a definite answer. "I’m not ready for such open serious relationships yet."

 

"Really?" she asked, slightly disappointed. "Then I’ll wait."

 

"Alright," I agreed with her. What else could I say in such a situation?

 

"So, we’re secretly dating now," she said with a strange smile. "Just like in Lockhart’s book!"

 

"In whose book?"

 

"Well..." she trailed off with slight surprise. "Gilderoy Lockhart, the famous dark wizard hunter, and a wonderful lover. I have all his books that he wrote! My mom loves them too. Haven’t you ever heard of him?"

 

"Not really, to be honest," I nodded, keeping a straight face. I’ve never heard of such an author. If his books aren’t found at Hogwarts, and it seems he writes entertainment literature, which I’m not particularly interested in at the moment.

 

"I can lend you a copy to read. I have another one in my room," the girl said. "Shall we meet tomorrow?"

 

"Let’s meet in a week," I suggested. "I have a pretty tight schedule this week with training, so we won’t be able to meet."

 

"I understand," the girl said, slightly saddened. "Can I ask you to get my photos back?"

 

"You know, neither the headmaster nor the heads of houses like it when a student from another house appears on their territories," I sighed. "And I wouldn’t want to disappoint Professor McGonagall. But what you can do is tell them that if the photos aren’t destroyed, I’ll have to have a 'talk' with them."

 

It seemed she expected something like that, and her face relaxed a bit, a faint smile appearing.

 

"And now, let’s clean up here," I pulled out my wand.

 

Tonks did the same, and we started casting spells. The water was cleaned up, the mirrors were polished. In general, the place was put in some semblance of order. Only after that did I leave the bathroom.

 

Around the corner, the Friar was already waiting for me, looking pleased.

 

"Thank you very much, Mr. Jody," he said. "You really solved this problem for my house."

 

"You’re welcome," I nodded to him. "I’m always ready to help the school’s ghosts."

 

"Thank you," he nodded again and only then slowly slipped into the wall to disappear. I wonder if other ghosts will come to me for help? I’m not against helping if the rewards are like they were with Myrtle. I wouldn’t say I didn’t receive any benefits from the Friar. I felt a sense of directed attention. This feeling became more distinct.

 

The next day, after talking with the professor about preparing for the Olympiad, I went to study additional materials on Transfiguration that were related to the books Dumbledore had given me.

 

Loading the books while pretending to read them, the analysis began. At one point, I was alarmed by the feeling of someone watching me. Looking around, I didn’t see anyone. The feeling disappeared. As soon as I immersed myself in the analysis again, the sensation returned. Without showing that I noticed anything, I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. Through half-closed eyes, I could make out something, but just barely. Although even so, it was enough to notice a familiar black head of hair and part of a face. It was Nymphadora Tonks, trying to spy on me secretly.

 

Ignoring it, I continued analyzing the book. But the feeling of being watched kept appearing and disappearing. It was annoying. I had to go back to the Gryffindor common room and study the books there.

 

Tonks’ gaze was intense. Other gazes didn’t linger on me, as I wasn’t particularly interesting to them. This "blinking" sensation happened all the time, which was distracting and irritating. I needed to find a place where I could study and hide from the girl following me. And that’s a problem.

 

Looking for a suitable room, I searched all six floors, then went up to the seventh, but even there, some rooms were occupied. I needed a place where I could think about this problem. I didn’t want to use the library, the Great Hall, or even the Gryffindor common room.

 

On the eighth, last floor, it was quiet. Looking out the window, I saw the Quidditch pitch, where the Slytherin team was practicing. Turning away, I walked to the end, searching for a suitable room. After reaching one end of the wing, I realized there was nothing interesting here, and after walking to the other wing, I realized there was nothing there either. Only observation towers, small rooms, and storage rooms filled with all sorts of junk.

 

Returning to the corridor, I felt a slight movement of magic and a change in the configuration of the space. It was strange and intriguing. Turning to the wall, I saw a rather large oak door that I hadn’t seen before.

 

Interesting!

 

Slowly pushing it open, I found myself inside a large space, perfect for designating a place where one could work in secret.

 

One wall was lined with all sorts of books, another had a large table with several candelabras and fresh candles. The third wall had a large, soft greenish couch, which should be comfortable for sleeping. The floor was covered with a soft carpet.

 

A wonderful place! I need to remember it for sure. Kicking off my shoes, I walked across the soft carpet, enjoying the sensation. I wanted to lie down on it and relax. Resisting this urge, I headed for the books and slowly browsed through them, increasing my joy with each title I read. For example, "The Art of Concealment!" or "How to Become an Assassin in Ten Steps Without Shooting Your Own Foot," or "Nimble Hands and No Fingers." In general, there were many books, and they were all aimed at studying the art of hiding oneself, one’s actions, and how to deceive others using magic in general.

 

I don’t know who created this room, but I take my hat off to their magical craftsmanship. The process of the room’s appearance was fascinating. It’s a pity I didn’t have time to understand what was happening in the magic and how the spatial structure changed.

 

Sitting on the couch, I immersed myself in meditation and immediately began loading into the Archive every book I saw on the shelf. They loaded quickly, which was abnormal. In about four hours, all these books were loaded and sent for analysis. The analysis also proceeded quickly, which pleased me. It seems that in this room, it’s possible to increase the speed of absorbing books and studying them. I think this will be useful for absorbing all the other books. Not wanting to delay testing this theory, I made a small request for combat magic and immediately loaded a rather large book on modifying magical spells during active combat. Loading this book wasn’t as fast as loading the books from the shelf, but it was still much faster than if I had loaded it in the library or elsewhere in the school.

 

Simply excellent!

 

This room I found is perfect for studying all sorts of material and practicing it. It’s a fascinating place. When I left, I again felt the spatial configuration change. The door disappeared, as if it had never been there.

 

So, how do I get back there? What did I do last time when I found myself on this floor? I walked past this corridor three times before the passage appeared. Since the number three is one of the magical numbers in Numerology, this seems like a great theory. I need to test it.

 

I walked past the corridor three times, thinking about the same room I had spent some time in. The door appeared again. When I entered, I immediately noticed that the room was exactly as I had left it. A few books on the table, one of them open to a specific page. I left the room, and the door disappeared again.

 

So, my first theory was confirmed in practice. Now I know exactly how to get to that room for training. Now I need to conduct other tests, as it seems that some magic reads thoughts and creates a room from them. If that’s the case, by imagining a different room, I should get something completely new.

 

After walking past the wall three times, I imagined a room for practicing dueling. Without much experience in such matters, I thought abstractly. The door appeared much more slowly and looked the same. When I entered the room, I immediately realized that the magic here was of a completely different order. To be honest, I don’t even know how to approach creating such a masterpiece of magical thought. Now I found myself in a large hall with a dozen mannequins in the shape of wizards of various builds. There were targets on some walls.

 

As soon as I stepped into the center of the red circle, the mannequins started moving. They moved swiftly. I didn’t have time to react before a spell hit me. My wand flew out of my hand, and a wave of pain shot through my body.

 

The surprise even brought tears to my eyes. But it wasn’t crying, just a reaction. Yes.

 

The red circle turned gray. It seems this is how they practice duels here. When I stood up, the circle turned red again, and all the mannequins returned to their places. So, I don’t want to practice this right now, so it’s better to leave and try some other room.

 

The next room I created was for practicing Siege Magic. The difference between Combat Magic and Siege Magic isn’t very big. Siege spells can be used in duels, just as combat spells can be used to destroy engineering structures. It’s just not a very efficient use of power.

 

And let’s say... the room amazed me. It wasn’t just a large space; it was a vast space, in the center of which stood a fortress with four walls and four towers. I know there are special bags for magizoologists, where they can keep animals in their natural habitats, but this was a completely different level.

 

I returned to the very first room and began "working" in peace. I tested various spells for hiding myself and performing strange tricks, not much related to everything I knew before. For example, how to strangle your own snake using only your fists. Why I need this explanation, I don’t know.

 

The next day was the first training session with McGonagall, where she was genuinely trying to help me. She worked with me after all the lessons until dinner. Seventh-year students handled checking the homework of the younger years. She dealt with everything else herself, but late at night. The head of my house was indeed trying to help me with magical art and Transfiguration in general.

 

For me, the day was divided into three phases. The first phase was lessons, the second phase was training with McGonagall, and the third was training in the room on the eighth floor. If the first two phases were light as clouds, the third was as heavy as a fifty-kilogram sack. I had to change my approach and focus on Transfiguration and studying the various methods that Professor McGonagall was trying to pass on to me.

 

One day, I received a note from Dumbledore, inviting me to our first lesson. I could only prepare mentally, and let’s say that wasn’t enough to return to school and do other things after the training. I crawled to my bed and passed out.

 

The headmaster’s approach was less systematic than McGonagall’s. He paid less attention to the technical side of Transfiguration. As it turned out, the headmaster could use a technically inefficient approach for the sake of an advanced one. Comparing his spells with McGonagall’s is like comparing a Muggle car to a flying ship. He had true magical art. And that’s what I’d like to learn.

 

As much as I wanted to continue practicing and studying magic, I had to keep my "promise" to meet with Tonks. I received a note from the girl with the time and place where she wanted to meet. Isolde tried to peek at what was written there, but only encountered my smile. Afterward, I destroyed the note so no one could read or see anything.

 

The "date," as Tonks called it in the note, was to take place in the bathroom on the second floor. Not the best place, but if she’s comfortable, I don’t mind.

 

When I entered, I immediately found the girl examining herself in the mirror, trying to spot any flaws. But there were none.

 

"Hi!" she said and then blushed, lowering her gaze.

 

Let’s say, yes, it does annoy me that she’s following me, but I can’t deny that she’s a cute girl with an incredible talent. I’d like to have that talent on my side.

 

"Hi, Tonks," I replied.

 

The girl happily jumped up to me and hugged me, immediately going in for a kiss. I had to play by her rules and respond to the kiss. It seemed Tonks was enjoying it.

 

After a while, she slowly pulled away and shyly lowered her gaze. I let her go, and she immediately ran to her bag, which I hadn’t noticed before, and pulled out a book with a picture of some man with a wide smile on a white horse.

 

"Here’s the book I was telling you about," Tonks said, even more embarrassed.

 

"Thanks," I nodded and carefully took the book.

 

Without looking, I tucked it into my own bag.

 

"By the way, what are you doing over the winter holidays?" the girl asked. "No! Don’t think anything like that! I just want to invite you!"

 

She waved her hands in a funny way, as if wanting to make sure I didn’t think anything strange about her.

 

"I don’t know yet," I shrugged. "To be honest, I haven’t thought about it because December will be a tough month for me."

 

"Why?" she asked, surprised.

 

Should I tell her or not? I’m not keeping my participation in the Olympiad a secret, but since no one’s interested, I haven’t told anyone. There’s nothing strange about it.

 

"I’m participating in the Transfiguration Olympiad in Zurich," I replied.

 

"Wow!" Tonks said, surprised. "That’s cool! Can I help you with anything?"

 

"I don’t think so," I nodded. "But thanks for the offer. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall are helping me with this subject."

 

"Ah," she said. "Well, if you’re studying with the headmaster, I definitely can’t help you. I can only cheer you on! Is that why you’re so busy?"

 

"Yes," I nodded.

 

"Ah," she said, blushing.

 

"So, I can’t plan anything for the holidays until the Olympiad is over."

 

"I understand," the girl nodded. "If you need any help, I’ll be happy to assist."

 

"Thank you," I nodded. "By the way, how are things with the photos?"

 

"I did as you said," the girl said with a satisfied smirk. "And the threat worked immediately. They destroyed the photos in front of me and promised not to do it again."

 

"Excellent."

 

Surprisingly, to be honest. I didn’t think I had such a reputation. Although, if you think about the fact that every student knows about my confrontation with the Slytherins, where I was in a critical minority and emerged victorious... It means something in the student circles.

 

"Yeah," the girl smiled.

 

We talked a bit more about school in general and only then parted ways. Finally, Tonks gave me a sweet kiss. It was clear that she enjoyed it and that she was no longer forcing herself to do something she didn’t like.

 

When I returned to the common room, I was met with a suspicious look from Isolde. Nodding at her, I headed to the dormitory to gather my thoughts and do some homework. Just because I’m preparing for the Olympiad doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do my homework.