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Harry Potter: The Artisan's Path Chapter 30
🕑 Added 2023-07-27 10:12:32 +0000 UTCHi all,
Here’s the next chapter. Polls for next week’s chapters will be up shortly.
22nd November
Harry advanced towards Daphne, a haunting smile etched on his face. He was drenched in blood, but it did not belong to him. It was the blood of the countless individuals who had tried to impede his progress.
She stood as the final barrier in his path. He intended to savour the moment with her. If only she had heeded his words. Grasped his desires. Understood his motivations. Understood his methods. Perhaps then she could have remained by his side.
However, the girl recoiled in horror from his touch. How dared she pass judgment? Did she fail to comprehend his purpose?
She clutched Tracy's lifeless body, her tear-streaked face reflecting despair.
"How could you commit such atrocities, Harry?" Daphne whispered.
She made no attempt to escape, paralyzed by the sheer horror that engulfed her. There were over a hundred lifeless bodies scattered around her, a scene of unimaginable carnage. They were all victims of Harry's rampage—family, friends, acquaintances, strangers.
Harry wrapped his hands around Daphne's delicate neck, applying pressure. Her eyes bulged, and she desperately clawed at his grip. Harry gazed into her pleading eyes emotionlessly, even as her beautiful blue eyes dulled as the life left her…
Harry jolted awake and sat up, on the verge of shouting Daphne's name. Then he realised it had just been a nightmare. His forehead was soaked with sweat, and his heart pounded in his chest. He found himself in the Hospital Wing, with his grandparents and Daphne engaged in a conversation on the other side of the room.
Just as Harry was about to inquire about the situation, the memories of what had happened before he lost consciousness came flooding back. He groaned and sank back into his bed, the sound alerting them to his wakefulness. The trio hurriedly approached his bedside.
"Harry, you're awake!" Daphne exclaimed, reaching out to embrace him.
But the image of himself gripping her throat flashed through his mind, and he involuntarily recoiled. Confusion and hurt clouded her expression.
"Sorry," Harry apologised. "I had a really frightening nightmare."
"What was it about?" she asked.
"I can't recall," Harry lied. He reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Harry heard noises from behind him and realised Fawkes and Hedwig were perched on the headboard, his own feathered guardians. He turned his attention to his grandparents, offering them a smile. "Why does all this feel so familiar?"
Minerva wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. "This is no laughing matter, Harry. Why do you always find yourself in these situations?"
Charlus placed a hand on Harry's shoulder but remained silent. Despite his stern expression, Harry knew he wasn't angry with him.
"It's not Harry's fault," Daphne interjected. "He can't help being a trouble magnet."
The doubtful look on his grandparents' faces made it clear that they didn't quite agree with that statement. Even Harry couldn't delude himself into believing it.
"How long have I been out?" he asked.
Minerva let go of him and used a handkerchief to dab away the tears from her eyes. "It's Sunday. You've been unconscious for almost an entire day."
"You really scared me, Potter,” Daphne said, her tone filled with reproach. “Promise you won't do anything that reckless again."
"I'll do my best," Harry replied, scanning the room with a furrowed brow as he realized his friend was missing. "Where's Terry? Is he okay?"
"They took him to St Mungo's. He ended up in worse shape than you, and Madam Pomfrey couldn't treat him here," Daphne explained.
Minerva provided more details. "He was displaying signs of being possessed. His mind was damaged from coming into contact with the Diadem. The Mind Healers are currently treating him."
"Diadem?"
"The object he put on. It's a crown typically worn as a symbol of sovereignty," Daphne clarified.
Harry nodded. "Will Terry be alright?"
"He should be," Minerva assured him. "Thanks to your brave but foolish actions."
Harry's grandfather finally spoke up. "Daphne and your friends have already explained what happened, but I want you to tell me in your own words."
Harry trembled at the thought of reliving that experience. It suddenly struck him that the incident had occurred in the Room of Requirement. What transpired after he blacked out? Where was the Diadem? Has everyone revealed the secret about the room?
He looked at Daphne, silently attempting to convey his concerns, hoping she could hint at how much they had disclosed to his grandfather.
Charlus noticed the look shared between the two of them. "There's no need to keep the existence of the Room of Requirement hidden. We already know about it."
"You told him, Daphne?"
"We were more concerned with getting help than keeping the room a secret. Besides, do you know how intimidating your grandfather can be when he starts questioning you?"
"I certainly do," Harry agreed.
Charlus disregarded their exchange. "Only the headmaster, your grandmother, and I are aware of this information. Now, tell me in your own words what happened."
Harry took a few moments to compose himself. The memory of that presence invading his mind was permanently etched into his consciousness. The feeling of having his mind violated, witnessing his most private memories being laid bare, was not something he wanted to recall in detail. Slowly, he recounted his experience. Daphne reached out and used her sleeve to wipe his face, and it was at that moment that he realised he was crying. He continued to explain his story.
"It is the Ravenclaw Diadem that was lost centuries ago," Minerva explained, her expression grim. She then provided a brief history of the object, stating that it originally belonged to Ravenclaw herself and was believed to enhance the wearer's wisdom. However, it had been corrupted by dark magic.
"I informed Amelia about the situation," Charlus said. "She brought in an expert to examine the Diadem."
Harry inquired about the well-being of his friends.
"They are fine," Daphne assured him. "They came to visit earlier, but Madam Pomfrey asked them to leave as they were crowding the Hospital Wing."
“When will I be discharged?” Harry asked.
Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and heard his question. "Not for a couple of days, Mr Potter," she responded. "Although you were not affected like Mr Boot, you did experience significant trauma. May I have some privacy to examine my patient?"
Minerva asserted that she would stay with Harry. Giving her approval, Madam Pomfrey instructed Daphne and Charlus to step back and allow their privacy.
"Mr Potter, I will perform spells to diagnose you, similar to last time, but this time focusing primarily on your mind rather than your physical condition since the cursed object did not physically harm you," Madam Pomfrey informed Harry.
He observed as she cast several spells, unable to discern any indications from her expression. "So, what's the diagnosis, Madam Pomfrey? Do I still possess all my mental facilities?”
Madam Pomfrey scoffed. "I doubt you've ever been playing with a full deck of cards, Mr. Potter. There is some damage to your Occlumency shields, but it appears to be temporary with no lasting effects."
"I'm in need of a new Healer, Grandmother," Harry complained. "My current one is too abusive."
Madam Pomfrey scoffed. "I've taken note of your complaint, but rest assured, I'll promptly forget about it."
"When were you planning on telling me that you were practising Occlumency?" Minerva asked, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Uh... it slipped my mind?" Harry avoided making eye contact with his grandmother.
Before she could respond, the door to the Hospital Wing opened, and Amelia Bones entered accompanied by another man. His face was hidden behind a hood, shrouded in darkness. Harry marvelled at the magic involved in achieving that effect.
They approached his bed. Amelia gave him a stern expression. "Harry, it seems like you've found yourself in yet another exciting situation. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Harry pointed toward his grandfather. "I blame him. It's his fault that I inherited all these foolish heroic genes."
"You little rascal," Charlus laughed.
"Well, at least you made it out relatively unharmed," Amelia remarked. "Allow me to introduce Unspeakable Croaker. I brought him here to examine the Diadem."
"What's with all the secrecy?" Harry inquired. "Are you hiding something under that hood?"
Minerva gasped. "Harry James Potter, don't be rude."
"It's alright," Croaker replied, lowering his hood. He had an unremarkable appearance but possessed shrewd eyes. "The Diadem was infected with extremely dark magic, Mr. Potter. You and your friends are fortunate to have escaped with minimal harm."
"I felt a presence in my mind, Unspeakable Croaker," Harry responded. "It was the most repulsive thing I've ever encountered. What exactly was it?"
Charlus shook his head. "That's not something you need to worry about. Leave it to the adults."
"Rightly said," Amelia added. "You're just a teenager, Harry. These matters shouldn't concern you."
"It is troubling that there have been numerous dangerous incidents at Hogwarts," Croaker frowned. "If this continues, I may have to involve myself more extensively in Hogwarts affairs. After all, my grand-nephew Neville attends this school."
"Are you referring to Neville Longbottom?" Harry inquired.
"Indeed. Are you acquainted with him?"
"We share a dorm room, but we're not exactly friends," Harry admitted.
Did Croaker know what was happening? Should Harry tell him? Harry didn't want to interfere with Neville's affairs, but he couldn't simply ignore the situation.
Charlus cleared his throat. "Can we discuss the matter concerning the Diadem elsewhere, Unspeakable Croaker?"
"Certainly, Lord Potter."
"Wait. Can I speak with you alone, Unspeakable Croaker?" Harry requested, having made up his mind to tell him. "I need to discuss something regarding Neville."
"Very well. I can spare a few minutes."
"I'll be waiting outside," Charlus said.
Daphne hugged him. "I'm going to get something to eat. I'll tell the others that you're okay. Do you need anything?"
"Something to keep me occupied. I have a bag in my dormitory with some books inside it."
"I'll ask one of your dorm mates to retrieve it for you," Daphne promised as she headed towards the door.
Harry watched her leave and then turned to Croaker. Everyone else had left, so they could now speak freely. "Unspeakable Croaker, were you aware that Madam Longbottom is mistreating Neville?"
"That's a serious accusation, Mr Potter," Croaker responded, his eyes narrowed. "What evidence do you have to support it?"
Harry shared all the information he knew, including the letter he discovered from Neville's grandmother. Croaker listened with an impassive expression, making it hard to gauge his concern for Neville's situation. Had Harry made a mistake by confiding in him? What if he already knew?
"Leave it with me," Saul said. "If Neville is being abused, I will take the necessary steps to address the issue. Thank you, Mr Potter."
He left the Hospital Wing, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake by revealing the information.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Charlus and Croaker found an unoccupied classroom near the Hospital Wing. To ensure privacy, Croaker cast privacy spells on the room.
"Unspeakable Croaker," Charlus queried, "can you tell me what kind of magic that was affecting the Diadem? The effects that Harry described are strange. It sounds like it had a mind of its own."
"Please call me Saul," Croaker corrected him. "I can share the information with you, but only if you promise not to disclose it without my explicit permission. The information is extremely sensitive."
"You have my word," Charlus affirmed. "And you may refer to me as Charlus."
Croaker was restless as he paced back and forth in the room, clearly displaying his agitation. ”The Diadem was a Horcrux before I disposed of it."
"What is a Horcrux?"
"A Horcrux serves as a vessel for one's soul,” Croaker explained. “It's a flawed attempt at thwarting death. Through a ritual, a wizard or witch splits their soul in half and places it within an object. As long as the Horcrux remains intact, the individual cannot truly die."
“Explain that further please,” Charlus said.
Croaker halted his pacing and ran his fingers through his hair. "Even if the user's physical body is destroyed, they can still exist as a wraith. It's a wretched existence, but it can be reversed. If they discover a way to restore their body, they may be capable of resurrecting themselves. They may not be the same as they were before, as their magic would be affected, but they will still be alive.”
"To whom did the Horcrux belong?" Charlus asked with trepidation.
"The magical signature indicated that it belonged to Voldemort," Croaker responded. "Trust me, that is not something I would be mistaken about. I encountered his magic frequently during the last war."
Charlus stood with his head bowed, his mood sombre. The news that Voldemort was still alive was devastating. If he were to return, it would be easy for him to resume his war against Magical Britain. Many of his loyal followers were still at large, ready to rejoin him at a moment's notice. The worst part was that he may come after Harry again as revenge for surviving his first attack as a baby.
"You have destroyed the Horcrux," Charlus said. "Does that mean he is no longer immortal? So all we have to do is find what remains of him and destroy it."
"I'm afraid it's not that straightforward," Saul explained. "The soul piece contained within the Diadem was not a complete fragment that made up half his soul. It was a smaller piece, which suggests that there are more out there."
"Then we must find them," Charlus stated. "Where should we begin?"
"We need to delve into Voldemort's past," Saul answered. "I know he used to be known as Tom Riddle before changing his name after his transformation into Voldemort. He was a student here at Hogwarts in the late thirties and early forties. By retracing his steps, we may uncover clues about the whereabouts of the other Horcruxes."
"I can assist you with that," Charlus offered.
Croaker shook his head. "Let me handle the research. I have access to resources you don't have, but it will still take some time. When it comes to disposing of the Horcruxes, I could use your help. They are likely protected against being found and destroyed."
"My grandson found the Diadem without much difficulty,” Charlus reminded him.
“Tom was probably arrogant enough to believe no one else would discover the Room of Requirement."
"I should have known you were aware of its existence."
"I knew about its existence, but not its location," Croaker replied. "Your grandson seems to find himself in exciting situations often."
"He's a mischievous little rascal," Charlus grumbled. "Because of his antics, I don’t have time to relax."
Saul hesitated, then said, "There's something else I need to share with you. There's a prophecy involving Harry and Voldemort. It's likely why James and Lily Potter were targeted."
"I don't believe in prophecies," Charlus said. "What does it say?"
"I have no idea," Croaker admitted. "Only the individuals mentioned in the prophecy can retrieve it from the shelf in the Hall of Prophecies. You need to consider bringing Harry to the Department of Mysteries so he can view its contents. We may be able to gather some insights from it."
"Perhaps during the summer holidays," Charlus sighed. "Harry already has enough on his plate."
"That is fine. There is one other thing. Dumbledore was the witness to the prophecy being spoken," Croaker revealed, startling Charlus. "It explains his actions toward Harry to some extent. He likely interpreted the prophecy in a certain way and decided to control Harry to ensure that it came to pass. It was foolish."
This is why Dumbledore kept Harry around instead of disposing of him when he was a helpless baby. He knew how much the man hated his family. Dumbledore planned to use him as a weapon against Voldemort and then get rid of him when he served his purpose.
"Do you think Dumbledore knows that Voldemort is still alive?" Charlus asked.
"I have no doubt.”
Charlus left the room and returned to the Hospital Wing. When he entered, his grandson looked up and gave him an innocent smile. He looked so much like James that sometimes Charlus slipped, mistaking him for his son instead of Harry.
The eighteen years he lost had truly tested him. After all his mistakes, he vowed not to make another one. There were forces that had his grandson as their target, but they would have to step over his lifeless body before they could harm him. It was now necessary for him to tap into his inner warrior to obliterate his enemies. Even without the aid of his family's magic, he was not a person to be taken lightly.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
24th November
Over the next two days, Harry was kept in the Hospital Wing. He found it absurd that he had to stay there when he felt perfectly fine after his ordeal. It wasn't until Madam Pomfrey explained it to him that he understood. His confinement wasn't for his own safety but for the safety of others. Terry had attacked a Healer upon being awoken in the hospital. Even though Harry showed no signs of being possessed, they decided it was best to be cautious.
The nightmare he experienced still haunted him, so he could understand why she was being cautious. Thankfully, he managed to keep himself occupied and not become too bored. His friends came to visit him, gathering around his bed and chatting with him. They didn't dwell on the incident, and probably thought it was best not to bring it up yet. There was one thing they did mention. It was that the Headmaster had forbidden them from entering the Room of Hidden Things without adult supervision. Tonks felt insulted that she wasn't considered an adult.
He decided to use this time in bed to think about the direction he wanted to take in order to become an official Artisan sooner. He set himself some goals that he wanted to achieve by the end of the school year.
There was one goal that would naturally come as he continued crafting, and that was to earn enough Workshop points to purchase the Trunk. If the item matched his expectations, it would give him access to his Workshop when he was at Hogwarts or any other place that was not home. The easiest way to earn those points was by building crafting stations for the Workshop and learning new skills, although he would have to wait until the winter holidays.
He wanted to create an Artifact by the end of the school year. It would help with his first goal as well since it was worth a thousand Workshop points. After reading one of his favourite comic books again, he had an idea for what it would be: Gambit's Bo-staff.
The staff was another defining characteristic of Gambit. He was trained in staff-fighting styles and could wield the weapon with amazing skill.
Gambit used the weapon for more than just martial arts, however. With his molecular acceleration, he could charge the staff with pure destructive force. Anyone on the receiving end of a strike would have a bad time of it. When Gambit charged his staff to high levels, it had the power to level a house.
Harry imagined himself wielding such a weapon and got excited. Although he didn’t know how he was going to craft the staff, it didn’t stop him from starting on a design for it. Researching the arrays needed to replicate its powers would take him the most time. He wasn’t even sure if he could achieve it at his current level.
Another goal he set himself was to recreate the Appraisal Scroll and sell it for profit, either by patenting the blueprint or keeping it a secret and selling it directly.
In order to achieve this goal, he dedicated time to studying a book on the Anglo-Saxon runic language. This particular version, an extended form of Elder Futhark, consisted of thirty-three letters. The book revealed that these runes offered greater flexibility but were not as widely used as Elder Futhark, especially in magical Europe. Notably, the expressions tended to be longer compared to Elder Futhark. Although the languages were quite similar, their application with runes differed significantly. The Appraisal Scroll was the perfect example that combined both languages to create its useful function.
Aside from occupying his time with his pursuits; Sirius, Remus, and Lauren paid him a visit on the second day of his stay in the Hospital Wing.
"Godson," Sirius exclaimed as he rushed into the room. The other two followed with more composed expressions.
"Sirius, be serious," Harry chuckled as he embraced his godfather. He greeted the other two with a smile.
"I never take things seriously," Sirius retorted, adjusting his hold on the wrapped package in his arms.
"What do you have there?" Harry asked.
"I got something for you," Sirius replied, his expression falling slightly. "Considering your knack for getting into trouble, I decided to search the Black family vault to see if there was anything that could be of assistance."
"I don't need anything," Harry asserted. "I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."
"Your current circumstances suggest otherwise," Remus said, unamused. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes. It was not hard to discern the reason. There was another full moon happening soon, and it was already affecting him.
"Are you referring to this?" Harry waved a hand to indicate the Hospital Wing. "I'm fine. It's only because the adults in my life are such worrywarts."
"I heard that, Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey called from her office.
Harry shouted back, "Then don't eavesdrop on my conversation."
"Poppy," Sirius called out, "come out and give me a kiss, you beautiful witch."
"Not happening," Madam Pomfrey replied. "And stop yelling in my Hospital Wing."
Remus shook his head at their antics.
"It's good to see that you're alright, Harry," Lauren said. "I would have felt terrible if anything had happened to you, especially since you encouraged me to create the newspaper when I was procrastinating."
"It was just an idea I had," Harry dismissed. "I'm sure you would have made your mind up eventually."
"Perhaps. Well, I'll be releasing the first edition in a few days. I'll send you a copy, and you'll have a lifetime's worth of free subscriptions."
“I look forward to reading it.”
“Do you want your present or not?” Sirius asked impatiently.
“Give it here.”
Sirius handed him the package. It was quite large but weighed very little. Judging from the feel of it, it must be clothing of some sort. Harry tore into the wrapping paper, revealing a simple pair of pants and a black undershirt. They looked comfortable, but no different from ordinary clothes.
“This is amazing,” Harry said with a deadpan expression. “But I don’t know how it's supposed to protect me. Unless it’s to prevent me from getting a cold.”
“It’s a set of magical clothes that you wear under your robes,” Sirius explained with exasperation. “They are designed to mitigate damage from physical trauma and the effects of some low-powered spells.”
“Cool,” Harry said, running his hands over the fabric. “So they have enchantments etched into them?”
“Yes,” Sirius nodded. “Although they must be hidden under an extra layer of fabric somewhere, as they are not clearly visible.”
“Do you have any more of them?” Harry asked, thinking of his friends who were likely to get into danger if they continued hanging around with him.
“No. But it might be possible to replicate them,” Sirius shrugged. “Would you be able to do that? ”
“Probably not,” Harry admitted. “I could always ask the Guild Master to do it since it’s his area of expertise.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Remus said, ruffling his hair, before sharing a glance with Sirius. “There’s another reason we're here. It has to do with the security in the castle. If Peter is here….”
“Then the students are in danger,” Harry finished. “I wish I hadn’t given the map to Amelia.”
“There's nothing you can do about it now,” Sirius said. “We'll have to find him the old-fashioned way.”
“You're looking for him? How are you supposed to find him if he has the map?”
“We are going to close off the areas that allow him access to the castle,” Remus explained. “If it's that important to him that he gets into the castle, then we'll set some traps to capture him. They won't show up on the map.”
“You're overlooking the obvious,” Harry said. “It is likely that he is still in the castle. There’s no reason why he needs to sneak into the castle.”
“That's a fair point,” Sirius said. “But I'm not sure if he is working alone. He was always a follower. If he is taking orders from someone, then he may need to leave the Hogwarts grounds.”
"Is it Quirrell?" Harry guessed. The name immediately came to mind given the man's significant role in causing so much devastation to the school.
"He is indeed on the shortlist," Remus confirmed.
"Well, let's hope we apprehend them," Harry sighed. "I could use a break from all this drama in my life."
"You sound just like an old man," Lauren teased.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
25th November
"What are you staring at, Harry?" Hermione asked.
The next day, Harry was seated in the Great Hall, his attention fixed on the head table. His curiosity was focused on Karsslon, the last remaining Master Artisan in the school. The others had departed following the death of their colleague. He had contemplated approaching them to gain insight into the Artisan profession, but he had always been distracted by other things.
Furthermore, he doubted they would pay him any mind, considering he had not yet become an Apprentice Artisan.
"Nothing," Harry replied.
There was another reason that he was interested in Master Karlsson, and that had to do with the third floor. A few minutes earlier, the Headmaster announced that more of the third floor was closed to students, leaving less than half of the floor open to them. Harry wanted to uncover the reason behind it.
He understood the potential danger of walking through the castle by himself, particularly with the possibility of Peter Pettigrew being at large in the castle. Nevertheless, he had the ability to sense danger and trusted that it wouldn't fail him at this point.
The owls arrived in the Great Hall. One of them flew towards Harry, clutching a letter in its talons. It landed on the table and hooted at him, extending its leg to relieve him of his burden.
"That owl belongs to the Delacours," Daphne observed. "Did you write to Gabrielle?"
"No, although I probably should," Harry replied, taking the letter from the owl. "This is from her father."
"Why would he be writing to you?" Tracy inquired.
"Because I sent him a letter seeking assistance with a delicate situation," Harry explained.
"Are you going to share what it is?"
"Later," Harry said absentmindedly, already engrossed in reading the letter.
Dear Harry,
I must admit your request is quite unusual. Gabrielle will be ecstatic if we succeed. I have researched the laws pertaining to the relocation of magical creatures, and it appears that we are within the boundaries of legality. As long as we obtain permission from the landowners, we can move the creatures on the condition that we take appropriate precautions. Since the unicorns reside in Hogwarts, it falls outside the jurisdiction of the Ministry.
The only authorisation you need is from the Headmaster, as the land has not had a true owner for centuries.
I will make the necessary arrangements for the relocation. The French Minister of Magic will undoubtedly grant permission for nearly two dozen unicorns to enter our country. I am already preparing the woods on the south side of our property for their arrival. It's difficult to keep Gabrielle in the dark, as she wanders all over the property in search of more magical creatures.
I suggest you exercise caution regarding whom you tell about the relocation. If the Ministry catches wind of it, they will surely cause trouble for us.
Sincerely,
Pierre Delacour
"Well," Harry said, smiling. "That turned out to be easier than expected."
Daphne raised an eyebrow, a familiar expression that indicated that she wanted an explanation, sooner rather than later.
Harry quickly stuffed the letter into his robe. "Not here. The information is too sensitive."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Later that night, Harry transformed into his Animagus form and quietly climbed the stairs to the third floor. As an extra precaution, he activated his invisibility and moved stealthily along the sides of the corridor. He reached the thief floor and headed in the direction of the Enchanted Wall.
Spotting someone up ahead, he momentarily froze. His tension melted away after he recognised the familiar sight of the Auror's uniform, distinguished by the magenta-coloured robes. Amelia must have assigned an Auror to guard the third floor.
Continuing on, he crawled on all fours, striving to make as little noise as possible. As long as he was careful, he believed he could pass by unnoticed. Well, as long as the Auror didn't possess a means of detecting invisibility. Harry's heart raced as he approached the Auror, but the man seemed completely unaware of his presence. He successfully passed by him and continued until he reached the corner.
Peering around it, he froze at the sight before him. The Enchanted Wall had transformed itself. What used to cover a small section of the wall now spanned more than three times its original size, like a living entity growing on the wall. Drawn by the brilliant glow emanating from the runes, Harry cautiously approached the wall. However, after a few minutes, he shook his head and averted his gaze. Just like last time, he found himself experiencing a headache from staring at the runes for too long.
The entire array was obscured and appeared to be a jumbled mess, making it impossible for him to decipher its secrets. Curiosity overriding caution, Harry tentatively reached out and touched the wall. He half expected something to happen, and it did—but not what he anticipated. The symbol on his hand grew warm. Even after he transformed into a Demiguise, it did not disappear.
Surprised, Harry quickly glanced around before retrieving the Source. Opening it, he discovered a new message on the inside page.
=====
The host has discovered a Sapient Array. Consequently, the host has gained a new skill.
***Assimilate Runes 1 [xxxx] - This skill allows the host to gain insight into an array by touching it. The information will be displayed in the Source, where the host can review it at their leisure. The skill level determines the complexity of arrays that can be learned, and it cannot be levelled conventionally. Warning: All arrays will be destroyed in the process of assimilating them, with a few exceptions.
=====
What the hell? What is a Sapient Array? Harry had never heard of that term before. He checked the Source to see if he could gain some insight into the array, but there was nothing. It seemed that his skill level was too low. Nonetheless, he might have found a way to learn more about the Enchanted Wall.
It was time to move on. He didn't want to risk staying around for too long. Plus, he had acquired an incredible skill with countless possibilities. He couldn't wait to put it to the test.
So, what do you think? Harry has returned to the Enchanted Floor but didn’t get the answers he was looking for.
Thanks for reading.
