Man of Archives

The morning greeted me with a pleasant, gentle weakness throughout my body. Waves of satisfaction spread lazily. I looked down to see Maggie, diligently working with her mouth. Squinting with pleasure, I allowed the lingering drowsiness to dissipate, spilling it into her waiting lips.

 

Meanwhile, Tamara had prepared a wonderful breakfast, which the three of us ate with great enthusiasm.

 

"Well then," I began. "I want you two to start a business for personal matters. I'll be your investor. Tamara, Maggie, the rest is up to you."

 

"In what direction should we work?" Maggie asked, clearly excited by my suggestion.

 

"You can decide for yourselves," I nodded. Honestly, I had no desire to dwell on it for long. Why do I even need this? It's simple... it's all about status. Gaining influence over wizards is easy, but preventing non-wizards from being influenced by others is like laying a foundation. It may seem trivial, but as they say, appearances are more valuable than money. Just let me know the initial investment you'll need."

 

"We'll do that," Maggie nodded. "Don't worry, we'll definitely come up with something interesting."

 

"Perfect."

 

Back home, I returned to working on Panacea, which had just reached a critical stage. I prepared a vial with the necessary treatment and locked it in a small, well-protected safe. It was shielded from external influences and designed to prevent any magical emanations from escaping. Naturally, I hadn’t told anyone about this—not even the Grangers—but someone could still discover what they needed.

 

In short, serious precautions were taken.

 

Arriving at the Grangers’ home, I cloaked myself in spells, carefully watching for any suspicious activity. But there was nothing. Satisfied, I approached and knocked on the door.

 

The door opened almost immediately, and I was invited inside. Hermione’s parents looked visibly anxious. It was clear not only from their expressions but also from the tension in their emotions and thoughts. Hermione’s condition seemed to have worsened.

 

"How is she?" I asked.

 

"She’s gotten worse," Mr. Granger said. "I took her to the hospital, but they couldn’t tell us anything..."

 

"They wouldn’t have been able to," I said with a shrug.

 

"Are you sure you can help her?" Mrs. Granger asked, her voice filled with concern.

 

"Come," I said.

 

We entered Hermione’s room. She looked unwell—pale, with dark circles under her eyes and a slight tremor. When she saw me, a flicker of joy and a hint of pleading crossed her face. Her weakness left her unable to speak, and I had no intention of forcing her to try in such a state.

 

"Have you prepared everything I asked for?" I inquired of the Grangers.

 

"Yes," Mr. Granger nodded.

 

"Good. When I give the signal, start bringing it in."

 

They both nodded, their faith in my abilities palpable. The way it stroked my magical senses was an intriguing feeling—one I would analyze later.

 

"Alright, Hermione," I said, shaking the vial gently. "I'm going to pour this medicine into your mouth now. You need to swallow it and then close your eyes. Changes will begin immediately, and soon after, you’ll feel hungry. No matter what happens, don’t open your eyes. Do you understand?"

 

She nodded weakly.

 

"Now you," I said, turning to her parents. "Hermione will undergo various changes. If it becomes too much for you, I can put you to sleep. It’s better if you leave the room and just bring in the food."

 

"I’ll stay here," her mother said firmly.

 

"Alright."

 

I slowly approached Hermione. She shifted slightly on the bed, her eyes fixed expectantly on the vial.

 

"Open your mouth," I instructed.

 

Hermione complied. I opened the vial and carefully poured the liquid into her mouth. She swallowed and closed her eyes. Immediately, the changes began. Her body convulsed, and she vomited. With a flick of my wand, I made the mess vanish instantly.

 

"Bring the food," I told Mr. Granger.

 

He hurried out of the room to follow my instructions as quickly as possible, while Hermione’s mother gripped the armrest of her chair, resisting the urge to help her daughter. When the food arrived, I flicked my wand again, slicing it into small, manageable pieces. Hermione, ravenous, grabbed the food with her hands and devoured it. The first plate was emptied quickly, and her father returned with another, continuing the process over and over.

 

Hermione’s body was undergoing a complete transformation. Her hair grew uncontrollably, patches of her skin peeled away to reveal fresh layers beneath, and even her teeth were entirely replaced. Watching these changes was fascinating, as some of them held potential for future magical spells and treatments.

 

The restoration of her magical core was the most remarkable aspect of the process. It was something beyond the reach of ordinary magical interventions. I memorized every change, with the hope of replicating the process without the use of Panacea in the future.

 

After two hours, Hermione’s transformation was complete. She had consumed all the food prepared, even surpassing the amount I had anticipated. Fortunately, her parents had bought extra meat. Her body was fully restored, and her proportions had subtly shifted.

 

With a wave of my wand, I cut away the old hair and incinerated it, instantly removing any lingering odor. Hermione’s mother watched the display wide-eyed, clearly impressed by such a direct use of magic.

 

"She’ll need a bath and some rest now," I said. Hermione had fallen asleep, which was unsurprising. From my initial examination, I could tell her natural mental defenses had not only been restored but had grown significantly stronger. Physically, her body was in perfect condition, and her magical core had fully recovered, with a slight boost. She would undoubtedly be able to return to Hogwarts and resume her magical studies.

 

For a more detailed analysis, I’d need time—time I’d have once she woke up.

 

Bidding them farewell, I gave a few instructions and assured them I’d return the next day. I needed to speak with Hermione herself and address any questions she might have. I was certain there would be many.

 

With the rest of the day free, I headed to the Ministry to register Maggie and Tamara as Muggles under my protection. This was a formal procedure that granted me the right to protect non-magical wards by any means necessary. It would also signal to other wizards and magical creatures that these Muggles were under my care and not to be trifled with. My personal status as someone who had already mastered two disciplines would grant Maggie and Tamara significant privileges in the non-magical world. There would be risks, of course, but I doubted many would challenge me over a couple of Muggles.

 

I also needed to declare my acquisition of another mastery. Of course, I could have kept it a secret... but why bother?

 

"Mr. Jody," a familiar voice called. I turned to see Narcissa Malfoy. She still looked stunning, as captivating as ever. "I didn’t expect to see you here today."

 

"Lady Malfoy," I nodded, allowing a smile. "You look as lovely as ever."

 

"Thank you, Mr. Jody," she replied. "What brings you to the Ministry today?"

 

"Business, business," I responded. "Muggle matters, and also to declare my second mastery."

 

"A second mastery?" She immediately focused on the important part. The Muggles didn’t interest her, but magical status certainly did.

 

"Charms," I nodded, showing her my rings. "I earned it during my travels around the world."

 

Narcissa leaned in slightly to get a better look at the second ring. After inspecting it, she nodded, acknowledging its authenticity.

 

"Have you been to the guild yet?" she asked.

 

"Not yet," I replied. "I’m not in a hurry to join the Guild Council. I haven’t even attended a meeting for the Transfiguration Council yet."

 

"Don’t worry," she said with a smile. "The Charms Guild will be thrilled to welcome a new member. I’ll speak to Lucius about it. By the way, do you have any plans for June 5th?"

 

"I haven’t thought about it," I replied.

 

"Well, I’d like to invite you to Draco’s thirteenth birthday party," she said. "A formal invitation will follow, of course. What do you say?"

 

"I’d be delighted," I nodded.

 

"Then expect the invitation," she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Oh, I must be going."

 

After saying goodbye to Narcissa, I watched her leave, my gaze lingering on her graceful figure. It seemed she noticed, or perhaps sensed it somehow, because I felt a wave of satisfaction from her emotions. Not bad, not bad at all.

 

Finishing up my business at the Ministry didn’t take long. I had to visit two different floors, fill out two separate forms, and that was it. The workers handling the paperwork weren’t the most cheerful bunch. It seemed like they wanted to be doing something entirely different rather than shuffling papers. But what can you do when life doesn’t offer more exciting opportunities?

 

The next morning, I returned to the Grangers’ house, and Hermione looked completely healthy. Her eyes, energy, and thoughts—all her “indicators”—were at their peak. Best of all, she was no longer losing her magic. In fact, she had grown slightly stronger magically, something she could feel herself.

 

When I walked into the house, she rushed toward me, hugging me tightly, exclaiming:

 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

 

When she let go, I could sense a slight excitement radiating from her.

 

"Well, I’m glad you’re feeling much better than you were yesterday," I said with a smirk. "Is there something on your mind?"

 

"I want to get back to studying magic," she said, her expression turning wistful. "After everything that happened, I’ve missed out on so much. Mr. Jody, could you help me with that?"

 

She quickly added, as if trying to justify herself:

 

"I know, after everything you’ve done for me... this might be asking too much," she said, a bit embarrassed. "But I don’t know who else I can turn to."

 

"Alright, Hermione," I nodded. "I'll work with you. By the time you return to Hogwarts next year, you'll be one hundred percent prepared."

 

"Thank you so much," she said, nodding gratefully.

 

Her parents also thanked me from the bottom of their hearts. Their daughter’s health had been their primary concern in recent weeks, and seeing the relief on their faces was satisfying. Of course, they weren’t wizards and couldn’t offer me anything in return, but their heartfelt gratitude was reward enough.

 

I hadn’t told anyone what potion I gave Hermione. She wasn’t eager to ask, and her parents didn’t dare inquire, understanding it couldn’t have been something readily available. If it were, Hermione wouldn’t have had these health problems in the first place. Being in the medical field themselves, they knew that certain treatments are reserved for a select few, and that’s why they didn’t pry or show too much curiosity about how I healed their daughter.

 

"Since I’ll be tutoring you," I told Hermione, "you’ll need to read all the books for second-year students. Once you've studied them, we’ll move on to practical lessons."

 

"But I’m not allowed to use magic outside of school," she protested, her question unspoken but clear.

 

"Don’t worry about that," I waved a hand dismissively. "I’ll take care of it."

 

"Alright," she agreed. "Once I’ve mastered the theory, I’ll contact you, and we can move on to the practical part."

 

"Understood," she nodded. "I’ll study everything."

 

"I like your enthusiasm," I chuckled. "Keep it up."

 

When I returned home, I found a large owl from Hogwarts. Honestly, I hadn’t expected it so soon, as I hadn’t made any official announcements about my return. It must have been triggered when I registered at the Ministry.

 

The letter was from Headmaster Dumbledore, expressing his delight that I had returned to England and inviting me to meet him at a small tavern in Hogsmeade. I planned to accept the invitation, so I quickly penned a reply, stating that I was happy to be back and would gladly meet him on the proposed date in a week. It worked out well for me, as it gave me time to handle other matters.

 

Since word would soon spread that I had returned, I needed to send out some letters. First, I wrote to Nymphadora, inviting her to meet, and also to Isolde and Brock, who were part of my closest circle. Additionally, I prepared gifts for those I wouldn’t be seeing in the near future.

 

Writing letters, preparing gifts, and sending them all out took the entire day, but by the end, I felt very satisfied. One more letter was sent to a goblin, expressing my interest in viewing the Stormhammer fortress again.

 

I had time to think things over. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind acquiring such a place for myself. If I could negotiate a deal with the goblin, it would be great. If not, no loss.

 

The responses didn’t take long. Surprisingly, the first to reply was the goblin, which indicated he was eager to sell the fortress. If he weren’t, he wouldn’t have responded so quickly.

 

The meeting was scheduled for the next day. I wasn’t sure what had changed for him, but it was unusual for a goblin to rush negotiations involving something as valuable as a fortress. That raised some concerns. What could have happened at the bank to make him want to sell it so quickly?

 

When we met, the goblin was visibly nervous, and not doing a good job of hiding it. He was accompanied by two other goblins. One was older, dressed in a finely tailored black suit. Gold rings with intricate designs adorned his fingers, and his glasses had gold frames. If I wasn’t mistaken, the lenses weren’t made of glass but some sort of magical artifact. He was likely from the upper ranks of Gringotts. The second goblin was much larger, clad in metal armor. He held a pike in one hand, while the other rested on his belt, as if ready to throw something. On his back was a double-sided axe imbued with magic, which glimmered in the sunlight.

 

"Good day," I greeted them.

 

"And to you, Mr. Timothy Jody," the goblin in the suit replied. "My name is Straightgrip, and I will be working with you today."

 

"What about…"

 

"Don’t worry about that," the goblin interrupted. "It’s internal Gringotts business."

 

"Alright," I nodded, not particularly interested in delving into their affairs. Why would I? Exactly—no reason.

 

"Shall we proceed then?" Straightgrip said.

 

At that moment, the armored goblin struck the ground with the base of his pike, and we were all enveloped in space. The transportation was unusually smooth, unlike any method I had experienced before. But… it took longer. I carefully observed the shifting configurations of space, making mental notes. If this enhanced my understanding of spatial magic, all the better.

 

After about a minute, we arrived at the fortress. I assume the longer travel time was a drawback of this method, but then again, if there’s no rush, why not use it?

 

"Well," Straightgrip began. "Stormhammer Fortress. As I understand, you're already familiar with it?"

 

"Of course," I nodded. "I inspected it last time."

 

"Were you informed that the fortress has numerous issues that need resolving?" the goblin asked.

 

"I'm aware of that as well," I nodded again.

 

"Excellent," the goblin said. "But now, the last thing I'd like to inform you about is the price."

 

"Has it changed?" I asked.

 

"Yes," Straightgrip sighed, casting an angry glance at the goblin I had previously worked with. "The price of the fortress is eighty thousand Galleons."

 

"And what does that include?" I asked, fully aware that I didn’t have that kind of money.

 

"Not only the fortress itself, but also the land, artifacts, plants, potion labs, greenhouses, and many other things," Straightgrip explained.

 

"Then why was I given a different price?" I decided to ask.

 

"The goblin made a mistake," Straightgrip admitted. "But don’t worry, the bank will handle the matter."

 

"I see," I nodded, mentally noting the coordinates for future Apparition. If I don’t acquire this fortress, I can at least access the knowledge stored within its informational field. I’m running low on books to analyze. "As much as I’d like to, I can’t afford that."

 

"I understand," the goblin nodded. "And I'd like to offer you an official apology on behalf of the bank, as well as compensation."

 

The armored goblin stepped forward, pulling out a small box and handing it to me. With a wave of my hand, I summoned it to myself, earning a few extra points of respect. This was exactly why I had worked to master wandless magic.

 

"And one more thing," the goblin quickly added after my little demonstration. A small golden card appeared in his hand. "Here are my contacts. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’ll assist in any way I can."

 

"Thank you," I nodded, accepting the card. "I’ll keep that in mind."

 

"Do you have any other questions?" Straightgrip asked.

 

"Not at the moment," I shook my head.

 

"Then we’ll take our leave," Straightgrip sighed. "Business doesn’t wait. All the best."

 

"To you as well."

 

The guard struck the ground with his pike, and they vanished into space. Observing the transportation from the outside gave me a few ideas on how to create something similar myself. After looking around one last time, I approached the fortress and sat down. Assured that no one was around, I slipped into meditation and immediately began searching for the books I was interested in.

 

What can I say... the informational field here was rich with knowledge that fascinated me. Books containing potion recipes, some lost or semi-secret, filled the archive. There were wizards' research journals—those who had once called this fortress home. Some of the topics were already familiar to me and no longer considered cutting-edge. After all, magical science continues to evolve if left untouched. What particularly intrigued me were various practices and spells of dark magic I hadn’t encountered before.

 

It would take several months of non-stop work to download all the knowledge from the local informational field. But that would undoubtedly draw the goblins’ attention. They’d wonder what I was up to. So, I needed to be selective, focusing only on what was most important and leaving the rest for later. With that decision made, I began downloading a book with fascinating body enhancement recipes, along with another detailing a list of spells.

 

Once the downloads were complete, I stood up and Apparated home, immediately diving into the analysis of the newly acquired books. Since I had only downloaded two, the analysis didn’t take long.

 

A knock at the window interrupted me, and I saw an owl with a letter in its beak. It was from Nymphadora, confirming her acceptance of my invitation to meet and expressing her excitement about my return to the country. Her letter radiated enthusiasm, clearly showing how eager she was to catch up. In my reply, I set a date and place for our meeting. Not wanting to delay it too long, I scheduled it for the next day.

 

For the meeting, I chose a nice restaurant in Diagon Alley. I dressed appropriately and arrived a little early to wait for Nymphadora. She arrived on time, but I didn’t recognize her at first. The first thing that caught my eye was her hair—an unpleasant, bright purple. Her proportions had also shifted slightly, making her look less appealing. Then I noticed her clothes, completely unsuited for the setting. The Nymphadora I had known at Hogwarts had been far more attractive than this current version.

 

"Hi, Nymphadora," I waved at her.

 

"Timothy!" she exclaimed joyfully. "I'm so happy to see you."

 

She rushed over to hug me, and I caught the faint smell of stale sweat. What had happened to her in the meantime? Could Auror training have affected her so much? After she let go, and without showing any emotion on my face, I was about to help her to her seat, but she pulled out the chair and plopped down on her own. To be honest, it was somewhat unexpected.

 

"I'm glad to see you too," I nodded, sitting down across from her. "So, tell me… how are things going for you?"

 

"Everything’s great," she said. "I'm almost done with my training, and soon I'll be an intern for the next two years."

 

"Oh," I nodded. "Congratulations. You must have really improved in combat magic and learned a lot."

 

"That’s right," she nodded proudly. "I have the best results, and that’s why the legendary Auror Alastor Moody took an interest in me."

 

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "I thought he had already retired."

 

"This is his last year on the job," she replied, then raised her hand and snapped her fingers. "Waiter!"

 

Her gesture attracted the attention of other patrons, causing me to blush slightly. Such behavior was far from appealing. In fact, it was far from polite, as it disturbed the other diners and reflected poorly on us.

 

"Yes," a short man with a small notepad approached. "Would you like to order something? Or perhaps a menu?"

 

"I’ll take two pints of beer, some fries, and lamb chops. Make sure the fat drips from the chops," Nymphadora said loudly. The disapproving glances from other patrons only increased, and I could hardly blame them.

 

"Alright," the waiter nodded, though I sensed he had little desire to remain at our table. "And what can I get for you, sir?"

 

"What would you recommend?" I asked calmly, ignoring Nymphadora’s eye-rolling.

 

"I’d suggest the pasta with lobster," the waiter offered. "And for drinks, we have wine from the magical gardens of Meridia in Spain."

 

"That sounds interesting," I nodded. "I’ll have that, please."

 

"Of course, sir," the waiter said, quickly leaving.

 

"You’ve changed a lot since we last talked through the Two-Way Mirror," I remarked to Nymphadora.

 

"This suits me better," she said, throwing her arm over the back of her chair.

 

"Hmm," I muttered.

 

"Do you like my new style?" she asked.

 

"No," I replied calmly.

 

There was a brief silence after that. When the food arrived, she ate hers, and I quietly enjoyed mine.

 

"I thought you’d like it," she said, her tone tinged with hurt.

 

"No," I shook my head.

 

"Well, you know what!" she exclaimed, jumping up from her chair, emitting waves of anger, frustration, and a hint of shame. "I’m leaving. Enjoy yourself."

 

Nymphadora turned and walked away, moving slowly as if she expected me to follow. Her thoughts revealed a hope—almost a fantasy—that I’d get up and go after her. But... why would I? For what reason?

 

So, I just continued eating. After paying for both our meals, I headed home.

 

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt with her. But no, I was honest. I didn’t toy with her emotions or make false promises. It’s just a shame I didn’t get to give her the gift I had prepared.

 

Then the doorbell rang. Since my parents weren’t home, and I couldn’t see who it was from the window, I went downstairs and opened the door. Standing there was Nymphadora, but in a completely different form. Her height, face, hair—everything had changed. Yet, it all seemed familiar. This was the Nymphadora I had known from Hogwarts.

 

"Hello, Nymphadora," I greeted her. "I like you much better like this. Come on in."

 

She stepped into the hallway and kicked off her shoes.

 

"Yes, Timothy," she sighed. "I’m sorry I acted the way I did during our date. It wasn’t right of me."

 

"Everyone has moments like that," I shrugged, closing the door. "The important thing is finding the right path afterward. I’m glad you’ve found yours."

 

The conversation over coffee was much more pleasant than I had anticipated. Nymphadora eagerly shared stories about her life and training. From what she told me, I could understand why she had adopted such a drastic new image. She didn’t like the unwanted attention from other trainees or older instructors. The latter had offered to make her life easier at the training academy—if she agreed to certain... extracurricular activities. To avoid such harassment, Nymphadora had decided to change her appearance. A simple defense mechanism.

 

My story was much longer and, arguably, more interesting because so much had happened during my travels around the world. I didn’t share everything with her, but I couldn’t resist boasting about my second mastery and my ability to perform wandless magic.

 

The latter surprised her the most, and I noticed her gaze shift slightly. For a moment, I peeked into her mind and immediately realized that she wasn’t planning on letting me go. To her, I wasn’t just someone she cared about—though I hadn’t fully realized that either—but also a prize she wanted to win. Moreover, she silently berated herself for showing up to our first meeting in such a state.

 

It was fascinating to see how much she had changed mentally. Back when we were at Hogwarts, she didn’t have such thoughts. Digging a little deeper, I realized this was the result of her experiences during Auror training. Trainees were sent to dangerous, criminal places where all sorts of things happened, and her rose-colored glasses had been shattered.

 

The magical world isn’t a sacred place. Yes, there are laws and rules, but if a wizard or magical creature is stronger than those who uphold the law... the outcome quickly becomes apparent.

 

***

 

Nymphadora returned from her date feeling relieved. Sure, not everything had gone smoothly, but what an idiot she had been to go to the restaurant with Timothy dressed like that!

 

“How did your evening go?” Andromeda asked.

 

“You were right, Mom,” Nymphadora replied. “Timothy didn’t like seeing me the way I went.”

 

“I told you,” her mother said with a chuckle. “But I can see that everything went well… right?”

 

“Yeah,” Nymphadora nodded, satisfied. “He forgave me for my first outburst and even gave me a gift.”

 

“That’s good,” Andromeda nodded.

 

Andromeda only wanted the best for her daughter. If that meant giving advice on how to win over a man—so she wouldn’t have to spend her life in the Auror’s office, facing dangerous spells—she’d gladly offer it.

 

Nymphadora dashed up to her room and immediately went to one of her hiding spots to pull out her divination tools. Sure, tonight wasn’t the best for obtaining clear answers, but she hoped to see something…

 

She drew a few circles on the table, filling them with special runes, then lit some candles and began whispering incantations. Her wand was a great help here. She placed a small napkin—one that had "mysteriously" ended up in her possession—into the circle. Above the napkin, she began swirling beads that gleamed with a mystical, magical light.

 

In an instant, the napkin ignited with a gray flame, emitting smoke that was drawn into the beads.

 

“Ooooo-maaaa-maaa-uuu!” Nymphadora chanted, then threw the beads into the circle. They spun and twirled before stopping abruptly, glowing with strange symbols. Nymphadora opened her eyes and carefully studied each symbol and its position.

 

The divination ritual she used concerned her own future. It was the simplest form of divination because predicting for someone else required a much greater talent for the craft.

 

The result of the ritual concerned her. It didn’t provide a clear answer to her question. Though she knew not to expect precise answers, the ambiguity still troubled her. But that wasn’t even the biggest issue...

 

The symbols on the beads clearly indicated that if she wanted a normal, comfortable, and prosperous life, she absolutely needed to stay close to Timothy. Beyond that, things became murky. For instance, the presence of other female figures in his life and the reversed symbol of death were strange and difficult to interpret.

 

She could guess the meaning behind the other female figures—it meant she wouldn’t be the only one in his life. That wasn’t too big a problem for her. Polygamy wasn’t practiced in England, but it wasn’t something that would be looked down upon either.

 

So, the possibility of other women didn’t bother her too much. Even without the divination, it was clear that someone like Timothy Jody wouldn’t be satisfied with just one woman. The rest of the symbols, however, she couldn’t interpret clearly. But even so... she was pleased.