Man of Archives

I woke up with an unpleasant sensation in my mouth. As I got up, I stretched and slowly regained my senses. My wand was already in my hand:

 

"Tempus."

 

The spell instantly revealed the time: five in the morning. It seemed I hadn’t slept much, which explained why I felt like a crab in boiling apple juice. To pull myself together, I quickly headed to the bathroom and immersed myself in the warmth of the water. After relaxing for a bit, I began to drift back to sleep.

 

The second time I woke up, the water had cooled slightly, but the fatigue had almost disappeared. I dried myself off quickly with magic, then did a bit of exercise to stretch out. Mentally, I reassured myself that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. Sure, I was a bit exhausted, but nothing a hot cup of tea couldn’t fix.

 

Back in my room, I changed into my Hogwarts uniform and headed out. The other students were already waking up, and most didn’t pay much attention to me, though I noticed a few curious and somewhat surprised glances.

 

“Good morning, Timothy,” Isolde Marigold suddenly approached me. “Where have you been all this time?”

 

“Just had some things to take care of,” I replied. “Good morning to you, Isolde, and to you, Dorsani.”

 

“Good morning,” Isolde’s maid, Dorsani, said.

 

“So, what’s been going on around here?” I asked Isolde.

 

“Not much, honestly,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. As we reached the common room exit, I let the girls go ahead, being a gentleman. I caught up with them and nodded.

 

“No fights or anything?”

 

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s been quiet. The only excitement was the Weasley twins getting into trouble, and Professor McGonagall gave them a month of detention with Filch next semester.”

 

“Do they ever stay out of trouble?” I asked.

 

“Don’t think so,” she smirked. “They’re always up to something.”

 

“Mhm…”

 

“By the way, when will you start your classes in Hogsmeade again?” Isolde asked.

 

“Probably after the winter holidays,” I said after a brief thought.

 

At the moment, I didn’t really feel like teaching or doing anything of the sort. No, I’d rather focus on my own development in that interesting room I found earlier. Considering how active this semester has been, along with two dangerous duels, it’s better for me to work on improving my skills. Besides, that’ll help me deepen my understanding and knowledge of Charms.

 

“Alright,” Isolde agreed easily. “By the way, what are your plans for this winter?”

 

“Not sure yet,” I replied, eyeing her with suspicion. Why was she so interested in my plans? “But I’ll probably go home to my parents. They might have something planned.”

 

“I see,” she nodded. “I was thinking of inviting you to stay with us.”

 

“Well, if you want, we can meet up sometime after Christmas,” I suggested. “Or maybe after New Year’s…”

 

“Let me write to you about that,” she said after a moment.

 

We stepped aside to let a group of first-year girls, who were whispering and hurrying somewhere, pass by. Probably off to breakfast…

 

“Because I’m not sure what plans my father has either,” she sighed. “He mentioned wanting to go somewhere in Africa.”

 

“I’ve heard it’s terribly warm in Africa during the winter,” I said. “I’ve never been there myself, though, so I wouldn’t know.”

 

We entered the Great Hall and quietly went to our places for breakfast. There weren’t many students yet, as most were still asleep. That’s not surprising, considering the semester exams had just finished. Soon, we’d all be boarding the train to go home—at least, those of us who wanted to.

 

Breakfast was light today: porridge, bread with butter, sausage, tea, bacon, boiled eggs, and jam. At one point, the windows near the ceiling became translucent, and a large flock of owls flew in, delivering all sorts of mail. While students could receive letters daily, such a large number of owls was unusual. Many received newspapers, packages, and other items.

 

Isolde received her copy of the Daily Prophet and began reading. The rustling of newspapers filled the hall, even among the professors, who occasionally glanced at the students to maintain an air of order.

 

I soon noticed several gazes directed at me, growing more intense until I felt a bit uncomfortable. Isolde, too, was looking at me as if she were seeing me for the first time.

 

“What?” I asked, trying to ignore the attention from the other students.

 

She silently turned the newspaper toward me and pointed to a page. Nearly a quarter of it was taken up by a moving photograph of me from yesterday’s award ceremony, where I was, of course, moving in the photo. The headline caught my eye: “The Youngest Journeyman of the Transfiguration Guild from Hogwarts.”

 

“That’s why I wasn’t at school,” I shrugged.

 

“You achieved the rank of Journeyman… so early,” she breathed, her eyes filled with admiration, just like the other students. I won’t deny it felt good… but still. “Incredible!”

 

“Well, yeah,” I nodded and smiled. “It was worth it.”

 

“No kidding,” she chuckled, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re famous for a brief moment around the world.”

 

“Friends,” McGonagall stood up from her seat. “As you’ve read, Mr. Timothy Jody has become the youngest Journeyman of Transfiguration. I think we should give him a round of applause.”

 

And the applause erupted. Even Snape, who never liked Gryffindor students, was openly clapping. The Gryffindor table was the loudest, with cheers, congratulations, pats on the back, and so on. The other houses were more restrained but still clapped. Even Slytherin joined in, despite any conflicts I’d had with them—they could still acknowledge someone’s success.

 

Such loud congratulations couldn’t last forever. Eventually, everyone returned to their breakfast and newspapers, though the looks directed at me had now shifted to ones of respect.

 

“And you won a duel to the death,” Isolde said quietly. “You’ve really made a name for yourself in the magical world.”

 

Flitwick immediately began questioning McGonagall about the duel, and I could tell even without magic. Professor Snape was also listening intently.

 

The newspaper only captured fragments of the duel, but even so, they provided enough to convey how it all went down. Respect from some students turned into fear from others. Now everyone understood there was a clear gap between us. I had survived a life-or-death duel, while many of them had only participated in non-lethal duels or scuffles in Hogwarts corridors. We were in completely different leagues.

 

“The Olympiad is never a routine event,” I sighed. “Sometimes clashes happen that can end like this.”

 

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Isolde nodded. “My father mentioned it once when he was involved in organizing a Charms Olympiad. I understand you’re a pretty skilled duelist…”

 

“Well, how should I put it,” I smirked, casually sipping my tea. The Hogwarts students, especially the Gryffindors, were listening closely. “I’m sure there are many duelists far better than me.”

 

“Of course, of course,” she chuckled. “But you’re the only student at Hogwarts who has won a deadly duel. Not just a street fight, but an actual duel. That means something.”

 

I could only shrug at that.

 

“Could you train me a little?” she quickly asked.

 

“Better ask me that after the holidays,” I replied without hesitation. “You might change your mind by then.”

 

“Alright,” she nodded. “After the holidays, then.”

 

Some Gryffindor students were still curious about the duel, but seeing that I was finishing my breakfast, they left me alone. I took a walk around Hogwarts until I ran into Nymphadora.

 

She dragged me into a corner, eagerly asking about the Olympiad and Zurich. I told her what I had seen and how I felt. She listened with wide eyes, clearly finding me quite an interesting storyteller.

 

“That’s how it all happened,” I finished my story about the Olympiad.

 

“I’m so happy for you,” she sighed with a smile on her face. “By the way, what are your plans for the winter holidays?”

 

“Not sure yet,” I replied. “I might meet up with a friend, make a few orders with the Hunters’ Guild, and spend time with my family.”

 

“I want to invite you to stay with us on January 2nd and 3rd,” she said with a slight blush.

 

“I don’t mind,” I nodded.

 

“Really?” she smiled brightly.

 

“Of course,” I replied calmly. Why not? I’d be interested in seeing how ordinary wizards live. I haven’t had the chance to visit a wizarding house or apartment yet. “How will it work?”

 

“I’ll send you a Portkey to my house,” she immediately said. “My mom and dad will be happy to meet you too.”

 

“Great,” I said. “It’ll be interesting!”

 

“Definitely,” she smiled.

 

Nymphadora wanted to talk about many other things, but I managed to slip away and head to practice. Sure, earning the rank at my age is already a big achievement. But that doesn’t mean I should stop progressing. Not at all.

 

The training hall near the portrait of the trolls was already waiting for me. I spent almost all my time there until it was time to meet the headmaster. Practicing spells allowed my mind to rest and not think about anything else.

 

After quickly cleaning up and changing into clean clothes, I grabbed my Olympiad award and headed to Dumbledore’s office.

 

“Golden Rain,” I said the password, and the gargoyle guarding the passage quickly moved aside, allowing me to step onto the staircase and ascend to Dumbledore’s office.

 

The wizard was already waiting for me. The portraits nodded their heads at me, but I didn’t pay them much attention.

 

“How are you feeling, Timothy?” the headmaster asked.

 

“Not bad,” I nodded. “Though I’m a bit concerned about my newfound popularity.”

 

“Don’t worry too much about that,” he waved it off. “After the holidays, not many will remember or think about it.”

 

“Probably,” I agreed. Well, what else could I do…

 

“You’re probably wondering why I called you yesterday,” the headmaster said, folding his hands in front of him and looking at me through his glasses. “I won’t keep you in suspense. You brought your award letter, which is great. Open it.”

 

Yes, I hadn’t opened it yet. Somehow, I hadn’t thought about it… strange.

 

“You’re probably wondering why you didn’t open it sooner,” the headmaster continued. “It’s simple… the award is enchanted so that it can only be opened in the presence of a senior guild member.”

 

That explained a bit why I hadn’t thought about it.

 

When I opened it, I felt a small, simple ring appear on my hand. A golden check and a piece of paper fell out.

 

"First, take a look at the ring," said the headmaster. "I have one just like it."

 

On Dumbledore’s little finger was a small ring with a red diamond. My ring, however, was much simpler—just an iron band. I slipped it onto my finger and immediately understood how it worked. Turning it clockwise made the ring visible; turning it counterclockwise made it invisible. I practiced the motion a bit to make it feel natural.

 

"Excellent," Dumbledore smiled. "There’s just one rule. When you’re fulfilling an order for the Transfiguration Guild, the ring must be visible. At all other times, you don’t have to wear it, though I recommend doing so to show everyone who you really are. Young journeymen aren’t widely recognized. By the way, the ring also serves as your pass to the library."

 

"I understand, Headmaster," I nodded. The ring became invisible since I wasn’t planning to take it off anytime soon.

 

"Next, you received money," he said, nodding toward the golden check. "I suggest you deposit it in Gringotts. The goblins will cash it and add it to your account."

 

“Yes, I was thinking the same,” I nodded to him.

 

Honestly, I’m not going to let my money just sit in a vault and gather dust. I could spend some of it on buying a small estate in a place close to magical manifestations and establish a more solid base there. But I’ll need to discuss this with someone else. The headmaster might have some excellent advice, but I won’t bother him with these questions for now.

 

"And third," he nodded toward the paper. "Read it."

 

I unfolded it and quickly scanned the contents. It stated that as the Olympiad winner, I was required to arrive in Antwerp, Netherlands, on July 1st. There, I was to meet a wizard named Edwin Janssen, a master of Transfiguration, who would be my teacher for a month until August 1st.

 

"Edwin Janssen is an excellent specialist," the headmaster began immediately. "He’ll teach you a lot. I advise you to stock up on Elixir of Mental Agility while with him because it’s in your best interest to learn as much as possible. We’ll discuss your preparation closer to the summer."

 

"Headmaster," I asked, "why are you so eager to help me?"

 

This question genuinely intrigued me. I had some ideas about his motives, but I preferred to ask rather than speculate.

 

"I want you to achieve the rank of Bachelor of Transfiguration by the end of your seventh year," the headmaster replied simply. "If you could reach the rank of Master, that would be even better, though I understand it won’t be easy."

 

"Why?" I pressed on.

 

Albus Dumbledore leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes carefully studying me. When our eyes met, I felt a gentle touch against my Occlumency defenses. It was light, not an attack, more of an emotional probing, which, by the way, isn’t illegal.

 

"Sorry for the intrusion," the headmaster said.

 

"It’s fine," I nodded.

 

"You’re a smart and mature young man," Dumbledore said. "I hope you understand that, like any organization, the Guild has internal politics that influence many things. A Master is the first rank with voting rights. Masters have one vote, Magisters have two, and Archmagisters have three. But since there are more Masters, the one who garners the most support can push through their own decisions or vision."

 

"So you want me to support your initiatives when I become a Master?" I asked.

 

"You see, I was right to think you’re a smart young man," the wizard nodded approvingly. "And I’m willing to invest a lot of effort to help you become a Master as soon as possible."

 

"What’s in it for me?" I asked, already considering what price I might set. It would be foolish to let my ego get in the way of such an opportunity.

 

"For the next year and a half, I’ll be preparing you for this," the headmaster said. "By the time you graduate from Hogwarts, you’ll certainly be a Bachelor and close to becoming a Master. That’s why I suggest stocking up on Elixir of Mental Agility while studying with Edwin. After that, in exchange for supporting my initiatives, you won’t be left wanting. You can be sure of that. I’ll also assist with your overall development as a wizard throughout the next school year."

 

"Sounds interesting," I nodded. "I’m willing to put in the effort to reach the level of Master by the end of my seventh year."

 

"Excellent," Dumbledore nodded, a pleased smile on his face. "By the way, would you like a lemon drop?"

 

"No, thank you," I shook my head. "I’ll pass."

 

"As you wish," the wizard nodded. "Do you have any pressing questions?"

 

"Yes," I nodded. "Other students took their semester exams. Since I missed them, what should I do?"

 

"Don’t worry about that," the headmaster said. "Tomorrow, Professor Flitwick will test your knowledge of Charms, and Professor Snape will assess your skills in Potions. You’ll automatically pass the other subjects. So, no need to worry. Any more questions?"

 

"Not for now," I shook my head.

 

"If any come up, feel free to reach out," the headmaster said with a sigh. "I’ll do my best to answer."

 

"Thank you," I replied, expressing my gratitude once more.

 

After that, I left the headmaster’s office with completely new thoughts and ideas. It looks like I’m finally getting a personal mentor who can help me immensely. Even if it’s the headmaster, I’d be a fool to turn down the chance to learn from him.

 

In the common room, Isolde caught up with me and invited me to play chess. She asked me about many things, but when I showed her the ring, she examined it with interest. After all, it was tangible proof of my knowledge and skills. Proof that could be touched.

 

Only in the evening did I return to my bed, and only now did I start reviewing part of the archive I received after absorbing the sparks from the slain Bolshanov. As soon as I directed my attention to it, I noticed differences in design. My archive looked simple. Wooden shelves with metal edges, lined with books and various papers. But the new part of the archive seemed completely foreign. Fully silver shelves. Intricate carvings on the edges depicting plants and animals. Astonishing!

 

As I reviewed the books, I was surprised by what I had gained… I had gained all of Bolshanov Junior’s knowledge. The language was different, but somehow I intuitively understood it all. This is wonderful! No… magnificent! I didn’t rush to study them immediately, because caution was needed in such matters. I didn’t want to accidentally inherit something undesirable along with the knowledge.

 

So I pulled out the smallest booklet and began analyzing it. Surprisingly, there were no hidden ideas or thoughts in the absorbed information. It was an old legend about a dragon with three heads and three different personalities. A strange legend. But never mind.

 

I didn’t feel like studying anything further, and I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

 

The next morning was much the same. I got up early and found myself in the Great Hall when there were barely any students there. After a quiet breakfast, I saw Professors Flitwick and Snape approaching me.

 

“Mr. Jody,” Professor Flitwick addressed me. “Congratulations on your Transfiguration rank.”

 

“Thank you, Professor,” I nodded to him.

 

“I’d like you to come to my office at eleven o’clock. I’ll test your knowledge and skills in Charms,” he said with a smile. “You don’t need to worry. Just review any topics from this semester if you can.”

 

“Alright, Professor,” I nodded to him.

 

“At four o’clock. Potions classroom,” Snape said almost emotionlessly. His cold eyes scrutinized me, but there was no threat in them.

 

“I’ll be there,” I replied.

 

“Don’t be late, Mr. Jody,” Snape said before quickly leaving. Flitwick followed, catching up with him. They continued talking, but their voices faded as they walked away, and I didn’t care to listen. I simply returned to my breakfast.

 

As I was finishing, students began to trickle in, many still looking sleepy. I knew all that drowsiness would disappear once they started packing their bags for the winter holidays. Fortunately, I didn’t have much to prepare. A few waves of my wand, and everything would be neatly packed.

 

When the hall became too crowded, I left the Great Hall, winking at Nymphadora as I passed. The other students didn’t particularly interest me. To kill time before my meeting with Flitwick, I headed to the library. It wasn’t just empty; it was practically deserted. Only Madam Pince was there, and that was it.

 

At five to eleven, I was already at the door to the professor’s office. He, of course, knew I was there and let me in without any questions. Professor Flitwick’s office hadn’t changed much over the years. It still featured a small amphitheater with a large area for practicing spells, and several books that served as steps. Rumor had it those books were written by wizards the professor didn’t particularly respect. There’s even a book by a wizard that the half-goblin would gladly spit on if necessary.

 

“Well, Mr. Jody,” the professor began, settling on a small tower of books. “I’ve seen the headmaster’s memories of your duel. I must say, you displayed excellent skills in that art. I could praise you in some areas and criticize you in others, but since I’m not your dueling coach, let’s not dwell on that.”

 

“I’d gladly hear your critique,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. “Even if it’s not entirely pleasant for me.”

 

“Commendable, commendable,” he nodded. “But right now, I’m just a Charms professor. So let’s get on with your semester exam. Show me…”

 

And my exam began. It wasn’t difficult. I had to demonstrate several sixth-year spells, explain the theory behind them, and describe their practical uses. Nothing too challenging for me. Let’s just say, the exam was indeed a walk in the park.

 

“Well, what can I say,” Flitwick sighed. “You’re not behind the other students at all. Congratulations on that. Excellent work.”

 

“Thank you, Professor,” I nodded to him.

 

Looking at the clock, I saw it was already half-past one. Time to head to lunch, and then to the Potions exam. That might be a bit trickier since my skills aren’t as good as I’d like them to be. It’s a shame I can’t split myself in two or stop time to practice my potion-making techniques and everything related to it. I have some skills, but they’re definitely at a sixth-year level, not at the level of Transfiguration or Charms.

 

“How was your Charms exam?” Isolde asked. She was reading a note shaped like a heart, another love letter from a secret admirer. I glanced around and noticed a first-year Hufflepuff boy. His face was flushed, but he kept sneaking glances at Isolde, trying to see her reaction.

 

“Not bad,” I replied. “I demonstrated the spells and explained the theory. The professor was pleased.”

 

“Congratulations,” she said.

 

Dorsani also nodded, congratulating me.

 

“Thanks,” I replied. “Alright, I’m off. I have a Potions exam with Professor Snape next.”

 

“You’ll need luck for that one,” Isolde remarked. “So… good luck.”

 

I just nodded, returned to the library, and began reviewing some important sixth-year Potions topics. When the time came, I headed to the dungeons, ignoring the students who continued to stare at me, especially those from so-called pure-blood families.

 

All of that faded away when I entered the cool Potions classroom. Snape was already seated at his small desk, engrossed in a journal. Upon closer inspection, I recognized it as a professional Potions journal that discussed new methods or potions invented by wizards. Fascinating!

 

“Good afternoon, Professor,” I greeted him first.

 

“Mr. Jody,” Snape began, then nodded toward a cauldron. “Your task is to brew the Draught of Living Death. You have one hour. The ingredients are in the cabinet.”

 

“Understood, Professor,” I replied, immediately setting to work. Recalling the recipe, I quickly jotted it down on a piece of paper—it’s easier for me that way. I’d need infusion of wormwood, juice of sopophorous beans, valerian root, asphodel root, and mint flower. All of it had to be prepared properly, and then...

 

I worked carefully, not deviating from the steps at all. You could call me a bit rigid, and I would agree. I still lack practice. Snape’s constant attention didn’t help either.

 

After an hour, I took a few steps back, observing the potion. So, the cauldron didn’t explode, the potion didn’t evaporate, didn’t try to run away, didn’t start freezing, didn’t solidify, and didn’t turn into sludge. Not bad.

 

“Well, let’s test your potion,” Snape said. He pulled out his wand and cast several spells. Then he tilted the cauldron slightly and filled a small vial with a few drops. The vial glowed purple. Then Snape dropped a few small stones into the potion and watched as it turned into ordinary water. “Overall, satisfactory.”

 

A weight lifted off my shoulders. If Snape called it satisfactory, that means I passed the exam. Answering theoretical questions wouldn’t be a problem. But Snape didn’t even ask any; he just sent me away. Which I was glad about. Now I could consider my exams for the autumn semester completed.

 

The next morning, I, along with many other Hogwarts students, headed back to London. In my compartment sat Nymphadora, who kept giving me interested looks. Besides her, there were Isolde and Dorsani. They still didn’t quite understand what a student from another house was doing here. Although they were familiar with each other from different classes.

 

The conversation was nothing special. They asked me about the Olympiad, the challenges, and the other participants. They were curious to hear about it and even imagine it a little.

 

After lunch, we arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, where we said our goodbyes. I quickly changed my robe for regular clothes, shrunk my bag, and found myself in the bustling Muggle train station. There were indeed many people. Everyone was in a hurry, doing something. Sounds, noise, various smells… It all blended into a cacophony of mild but controlled chaos.

 

“Son!” my father called out, sitting on a small wooden bench.

 

“Dad,” I replied.

 

We hugged and headed toward the car. It was too noisy to have a proper conversation here, but in the car… My father really wanted to know everything that had happened at school.

 

London was completing the final preparations for Christmas. For Muggles, it’s an important holiday that reunites families. I think it’s also significant from an economic standpoint, but I’m not too knowledgeable about that.

 

The month turned out to be cold and snowy. White caps covered trees and houses. The roads were gray and slushy, but I don’t think there’s much to be done about that. After passing many beautifully decorated buildings, we entered our neighborhood. There, everything looked much prettier since many Britons decorated their homes with various garlands. It’s a local tradition that I like.

 

Mom was home because she was on a short holiday break. She was busy tidying up the house. We were probably expecting some guests. But as soon as I stepped through the door, she dropped what she was doing and hugged me tightly.

 

Then they sat me down at the table and fed me well before diving into a barrage of questions. I answered, sometimes omitting certain details to keep them from worrying. There was no need for my parents to know that I had killed someone in a duel. But as for my victory at the Olympiad… why not? I showed them the ring and its magic, which amazed them.

 

“What are your plans?” my father asked as we sat by the coffee table. The fire from the hearth gave off a cozy warmth, the logs crackling quietly.

 

“Tomorrow, I need to go to Diagon Alley,” I told him. “I need to buy and send gifts. Then I’ll spend time with you, and after that, I’ll probably meet up with a friend from school.”

 

“By the way, Tamara has been asking about you a lot, wondering when you’d be back,” my mom said, hearing the last part. “She’s been waiting for you all this time.”

 

“I thought she’d already found herself a new boyfriend,” I remarked.

 

“Don’t have such a low opinion of her,” my mom sighed, adjusting her clothes. “She’s a good girl.”

 

“Hmm,” I just nodded at that. I won’t argue. We’ll see how she behaves, and then I’ll decide how useful she can be to me.

 

Wizards have many opportunities in the Muggle world. That’s why ninety percent of all businesses on the planet are controlled by wizards. Be it the entertainment industry or other sectors. A few simple spells that don’t even break the law, and a Muggle becomes as obedient as a puppet. And if a skilled Legilimens gets involved, they can make the Muggle do anything they want. It’s always been that way, is that way, and will be that way. History books were straightforward about it. That’s why all those “legendary rulers” who were attributed with mystical powers were so famous. These “legendary” figures were wizards who failed to make a mark in the magical world because they didn’t possess enough power. All the worst disasters in the Muggle world happened because of dumb or insane wizards.

 

In general, from the book Theory of Magic, I know that magical energy affects ordinary people, making them more susceptible to influence. They’re like addicts who are ready to do anything, even without realizing it. This is the main reason why wizards mostly live separately. No one wants to see streets filled with bodies writhing and defecating on themselves because of increased magical energy in the air. Muggles can be compared to an empty, dry vessel that craves to drink something. Magical energy acts as a calorie-rich solution that’s a perfect fit. And that’s why this dry vessel is ready to turn itself inside out to get more of this solution.

 

I went to sleep in my own room. The next day, I went to Diagon Alley early in the morning. My father drove me to the Leaky Cauldron, and from there, I found myself on the street, which was also getting ready for the holiday. The first thing I did was go to Gringotts, where I deposited my money into my account. I’m not going to buy property or land just yet. I simply don’t have the time to fully delve into those matters. I’ll think about it later.

 

I quickly ran through the shops and bought gifts, then hurried with other wizards to the Owl Post Office. After paying a few Sickles, I sent all the gifts to my acquaintances and friends. Besides that, I also bought some non-magical beverages that Muggles don’t have. I think my relatives will like them.

 

In the evening, guests arrived. I know that every year, one family hosts the relatives. This year, my parents took on that responsibility. Of course, my return from a “private” school intrigued many, and I had to tell them how things were going at the “private” school and boast about my achievements.

 

After that, there was dinner and continued festivities with gift exchanges until the middle of the night. Around three o’clock, the last guests left, and we went to bed. Tomorrow would be the day to unwrap presents.

 

In the morning, I let the owls bring in the gifts, and then they flew away. There weren’t many boxes, but enough to keep me busy for a while. My parents were also curious to see what magical presents I had received. So we sat with hot cocoa, unwrapping everything.

 

The gifts from relatives were quite simple. Socks with pictures, some funny toys, books, and similarly amusing dishes. The gifts from wizards were a bit more interesting. For example, I received a wand care kit from Isolde and sweets from Dorsani. Nymphadora’s gift was something more intriguing. It was part of an artifact called a “Two-Way Mirror,” through which you can communicate with someone who has the other half. Additionally, she gave me a book on creating Portkeys. Now that was a worthy gift. From McGonagall, I received a new robe with the Transfiguration Guild’s insignia. It was made of excellent materials, making it indispensable for working with certain spells. The other gifts from my acquaintances were quite simple. I didn’t splurge too much on gifts for most of them either.

 

My parents were fascinated by the magical items. When I cleaned my wand right in front of them, my father solemnly said:

 

“Yes, a personal weapon should always be kept in perfect condition.”

 

The rest of the day was just relaxing, doing nothing, and strolling through the snowy streets. People were smiling and warmly greeting each other. After all, Christmas is an important holiday for many. My parents and I even built a snowman, which was somewhat unusual for me. I know the younger years at Hogwarts love to do this in the winter, but I had never done it myself. It was truly a new experience that brought a lot of moral satisfaction.

 

In the evening, there was a call from Tamara and her mother, who invited us to celebrate New Year’s Eve with them. We agreed… and I didn’t mind, honestly. I was curious to see how New Year’s is celebrated here.

 

I wrote a letter to Brock, but he didn’t respond right away because he was on a job somewhere in Belgium. He congratulated me on earning the rank of Journeyman and regretted that we wouldn’t be able to meet and celebrate it. He also asked about my plans for the summer. Without hiding much, I wrote him back.

 

There was also a brief conversation with Nymphadora, who was very grateful for the gift, and we arranged when we would meet. I was even happy to chat with her a bit. In the following days, I continued analyzing the books I had brought back from Zurich. The process was slow but still progressing. And with this progress, I was also moving forward in my understanding of magic.

 

We didn’t prepare much for New Year’s because we were going to someone’s house. As I observed, I noticed that my magic was affecting my parents. The influence was weak because I was trying to control and limit it. But it was still there… if I wanted to be left alone for a while… no one bothered me. If I wanted to talk to my father about something, he would start the conversation himself and eventually bring up the right topic. In general, it wasn’t very pleasant because it made it almost impossible to have a normal conversation with them. I’ll have to look into how to limit this effect because only interacting with wizards will limit my perspective… Although it’s not very broad, to begin with.

 

Maggie and Tamara live in a small house at the edge of our neighborhood. The house is small but cozy. And being at the end of the street meant it was quiet. The path was covered in snow, with only a few footprints showing that someone had walked there.

 

There was light in the windows. My father rang the doorbell, and within a minute, Maggie opened the door. The woman was incredibly happy to see us.

 

“Cindy, Aren,” she said. “Finally, you’re here. Come in, come in.”

 

We entered.

 

“Oh, and Timothy’s with you,” she said happily, rushing to hug me, pressing me against her ample bosom. “I’m so glad to see you.”

 

“I’m glad to see you too,” I replied with a smile.

 

The light fantasies in my head even made me a little aroused. Honestly, Maggie wasn’t unattractive at all. You could even call her a very appealing mature woman, and I wouldn’t mind having some fun with her. Our eyes met, and she winked at me. Subtly. All I could do was smile back.

 

“Hey, Timothy,” Tamara called out.

 

She had blossomed a bit over the past six months. Her figure had shaped up even more; I think if she were a witch living in Fiore, she would definitely make it into one of Witch Weekly’s rankings.

 

“Hey,” I responded brightly.

 

“Come on in, come on in,” Maggie urged us, leading us into a small living room with a table set for five. Some food was already prepared, and drinks were laid out.

 

“Do you need help with anything?” my mother asked.

 

“No, I’ve got everything ready,” Maggie replied cheerfully. “Please, take a seat.”

 

Maggie ended up sitting next to me on the left, with Tamara on the right. My parents were on the other side. Eating was a big part of the celebration, but not to the point of bursting. In between, we talked and shared various stories. Of course, as a student of a “private” school, my achievements were of particular interest to Maggie and Tamara. The girl was nothing like the one I remembered from the summer. She was even more pleasant to talk to. Unable to contain my curiosity, I used a bit of light Legilimency… somehow, the girl was head over heels in love… with me.

 

I didn’t delve further to figure out how she came to feel this way. I’d already learned the most important thing, and I didn’t want to dig any deeper for now.

 

“Timothy, do you want to go watch the fireworks?” Maggie asked as the time approached.

 

“Yes, there’s a great spot nearby,” Tamara immediately said. “Let’s go see! From there, we should have a great view of them.”

 

I was actually curious.

 

“Why not,” I said. “Are you coming?” I asked my parents.

 

“No,” my mom replied. “I don’t feel like trudging through the snow. So, you go with Tamara. We’ll watch from the window or on TV.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Tamara and I really did go there. Deciding to play a little with her, I took her hand. She blushed slightly but didn’t pull away; instead, she squeezed my hand tighter as if not wanting to let go.

 

There were quite a few people on the hill. It seemed many wanted to come here to see the fireworks. At one point, the crowd started cheering, and then red, yellow, and green points shot into the sky, bursting into beautiful blooms.

 

“Hooray! Happy New Year!”

 

The fireworks lasted for about five minutes, and then they ended, and people began to disperse. We stayed there for another half hour, but we didn’t rush back. I could tell what she wanted to do, but she was holding herself back for now.

 

When we arrived, I saw that my parents’ car was gone. It seemed they had left. Well, no big deal; I’m not a kid, so I can get home without any problems. Or I might just stay here.

 

“Mom, we’re back!” Tamara called out.

 

The table had already been cleared, and from the kitchen came the sounds of dishes and water. After Tamara’s words, it all stopped, and the woman, who had partially changed into her home clothes, came out to greet us.

 

“Great,” she nodded. “By the way, Timothy, your parents have left, so you can stay here overnight. What do you say?”

 

“I don’t mind,” I replied.

 

“And yes, your parents are okay with it,” she nodded. “You can use the guest room. Tamara, show him and help make the bed.”

 

“Right,” the girl nodded.

 

We went upstairs, where there were several rooms.

 

“This is the bathroom,” she pointed to a bathroom with a nice renovation. The number of various bottles, creams, and brushes clearly indicated that women lived here. “My room is over there.”

 

She pointed to a room on the other side of the bathroom.

 

“That’s my mom’s room,” she pointed to a closed door, then led me into the adjacent room. “And this is your room for the night.”

 

“Thanks,” I nodded to her.

 

We sat and talked for a while longer, then went to our respective rooms. I lay on the bed for a while, reading a magazine about cars. It was interesting, but not as much as magic. Tamara finished washing up and went to her room.

 

I then stepped into the hallway and froze, seeing Maggie, who was dressed in a semi-transparent nightgown that barely covered anything.

 

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I thought you were already asleep.”

 

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, once again taking in the sight of her body. Let’s just say… it was enticing. There was definite movement in my pants, like Diagon Alley during the holidays. “You look amazing.”

 

The compliment greatly pleased her. She blushed, then looked at me differently. I don’t even know how to describe it… For a moment, I imagined myself as a crystal-clear, cold glass of water given to a traveler in the desert who hadn’t seen water in ten days.

 

“Thank you,” Maggie replied in a husky voice with a slight breathiness.

 

“Alright, I’ll go wash up and head back to bed,” I said to her.

 

As I carefully passed by, I caught a faint scent from her, and against the light, I saw that she was aroused. I really don’t understand what’s going on.

 

After some time, the house fell into darkness, but I couldn’t sleep because I was still feeling aroused. Perhaps someone would have already played with Tamara’s and Maggie’s minds and been having fun, but I’m not that kind of person.

 

About an hour and a half later, the door to my room slowly opened, and a woman entered. Through my partially closed eyes and by the outline of her body, I recognized Tamara’s mother. What was she doing here…

 

She took a few steps forward, then sat down on the edge of the bed. I continued to lie with my eyes closed, showing no signs of being awake. I was genuinely curious about what she would do next.

 

Maggie slowly climbed onto the bed completely, then began crawling over me. I still didn’t show that I was awake. Then her hands slowly slid under the covers, and she disappeared beneath them. A few seconds later, the nearly naked woman was lying on top of me.

 

Naturally, I was aroused. Her hot breath seared my ear, and she rubbed herself against my groin.

 

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat.

 

Maggie froze, doing nothing.

 

“Maggie,” I whispered softly. “What are you doing?”

 

For now, I won’t use any magic.

 

“Timothy…” she whispered with intense anxiety and even confusion about what to do next. “I… I…”

 

“Shh,” I whispered back and caught her lips with mine. My hands slid over her body, pulling the mature woman, who was Tamara’s mother, even closer.