Harry Potter: The Artisan's Path Chapter 82

Hi all, 

Here’s the next chapter. One particular scene in this chapter was hard to get right. I must have rewritten it half a dozen times. But the chapter is finally here.

Chapter 82

The door to Charlus' room clicked shut, muffling the distant sounds of the competition's ongoing festivities. Harry, Ivaylo, Sheena, and Charlus gathered in the living room in his grandfather’s quarters, the warm glow of enchanted candles casting long shadows across their faces. Ivaylo sank into one of the plush armchairs, his shoulders hunched and eyes darting nervously towards the door as if expecting Andrei to burst in at any moment.

"Alright, Ivaylo," Charlus began, his voice low and steady. "Tell us everything you know about this organisation Andrei is involved with."

Ivaylo swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. "I... I don't know much," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Andrei is very secretive about it. But I do know they wear masks."

Harry leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "Masks? What kind of masks?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Ivaylo replied, his gaze distant as he recalled the memory. "It was about a year ago. I hadn't planned to be at Andrei's workshop, but I forgot something and had to go back for it. That's when I saw them.”

He paused and took a shaky breath before he spoke again. "A visitor was talking to Andrei. They wore a mask that hid their faces. The mask was white with the number five on it. My master wore a mask too, but since his back was to me, I couldn't see if he had a number.”

Charlus' expression darkened, his jaw clenching. "Obsidian," he muttered.

Harry turned to his grandfather, surprise etched on his face. "Obsidian? You're certain?"

Charlus nodded grimly. “The mask with a number means that Andrei and his guest are a part of Obsidian's inner circle. I should have taken him out when I had the chance."

Sheena, who had been standing silently nearby, stepped forward. "I should report this to the guild master immediately," she said, her voice tight with concern. "If Andrei is involved with Obsidian, the entire guild could be at risk."

Charlus nodded. "Good idea, Sheena. Be discreet, though."

As Sheena hurried off, Ivaylo suddenly grabbed Harry's arm, his eyes wide with fear. "My family," he gasped. "Andrei knows I've betrayed him, and he is very vindictive. My parents, my little sister... they're in danger!"

Harry felt a chill run down his spine at the raw terror in Ivaylo's voice. He turned to his grandfather, who was already pulling out a two-way mirror from his robes.

"Where do they live, Ivaylo?" Charlus asked, his tone urgent but calm.

Ivaylo told him the address.

Charlus nodded, tapping the mirror with his wand. The surface shimmered, and a face appeared —a weathered, scarred visage that Harry recognised as Alastor Moody.

"Alastor," Charlus said without preamble, "I need an emergency extraction. A family of three, consisting of parents and a young girl. Bring them to a safe house immediately."

Charlus provided him with the Ivaylos home address, which was located in Sofia, Bulgaria.

Moody's magical eye swivelled, taking in the scene behind Charlus. "Understood," he growled. "I'll assemble a team and move out at once. What's the threat?"

"Possible retaliation from Obsidian," Charlus replied, his voice grim. "Be on high alert. We don't know how fast they will move against the family."

Moody's good eye widened slightly at the mention of Obsidian. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "We'll have them out within the hour. Moody out." The mirror's surface went blank.

Ivaylo sagged with relief, tears welling in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. "I... I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to them."

Harry placed a comforting hand on Ivaylo's shoulder. "They'll be safe now," he assured him. "Moody is very good at what he does."

Charlus pocketed the mirror, his expression grim. "Now, we need to figure out our next move. If Andrei is truly with Obsidian, we're dealing with a far more dangerous situation than we initially thought."

Harry nodded. "Andrei might not be the only Obsidian member in the guild. He likely holds the most influence, though."

"Agreed," Charlus said. "But we need to be careful. If we cause too much of a stir, Andrei might go to ground, and we'll lose our chance to catch him and potentially gather more information about Obsidian."

Ivaylo looked between them. "What... what's going to happen to me? My family? We can't return to Bulgaria, but it's our home."

Charlus' expression softened slightly. "Don't worry, lad. We'll keep you safe. For now, you'll come with us. We have a safe house where you can stay until we sort this mess out."

"Ivaylo, you mentioned earlier that Andrei was looking for someone named Galahad,” Harry said. “Do you know anything more about that?"

Ivaylo shook his head. "Only that Andrei seemed almost... obsessed when he mentioned the name. Galahad was someone he needed to get his hands on at all costs."

Charlus eyed his grandson. “Is it the same Galahad from Hogwarts? How is that even possible?”

Harry shrugged. “Nothing surprises me when it comes to magic.”

Charlus grunted. “Since the award ceremony is already over, there is no need to stay here. Once I’ve spoken to Anton, we will be heading home. I will take you back to Hogwarts tomorrow.”

Harry nodded. He didn’t have a problem with that, as he needed to grab the other two pocket watches to see what would happen when all three came together. The anticipation was almost killing him.

As Harry and Charlus finished their discussion, a sharp knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Charlus strode to the door and unlocked it.

The door swung open, revealing Anton Paasio and Sheena. Anton's face was etched with concern. They stepped inside, and Sheena closed the door behind them with a soft click.

"Charlus, Harry," Anton nodded to each of them in turn. His eyes fell on Ivaylo, who seemed to shrink further into his chair. "Sheena has briefed me on your suspicions about Andrei. I must say, I find them deeply troubling."

Charlus gestured for Anton and Sheena to take a seat. "What do you know about Andrei's background, Anton? Has he ever given you reason to doubt his loyalty to the guild?"

Anton sighed, running a hand through his greying hair. "Andrei has always been... intense. Brilliant, no doubt, but there was always something unsettling about him. I never imagined he could be involved with a group like Obsidian."

Harry leaned forward. "What will the guild do now?"

"I'll look into this quietly to find out what's really going on," Anton said. "I won't turn on Andrei without solid proof. He has a lot of power in the guild, so I need to be careful not to make rash accusations that will undermine my position. For now, we'll step up security and monitor all guild activities closely."

Sheena added, "I've already informed the head of security. He's reviewing our protocols. We'll need to be extra vigilant, especially around our more sensitive projects and information."

Charlus nodded approvingly. "A wise move."

"Wait a minute," Harry said, leaning forward with furrowed brows. "Is that all you're going to do? He held me at wand point. If it wasn't for my grandfather, who knows what spell he would have fired at me."

"I understand your frustration," Anton said, his expression sympathetic but firm. "But since Andrei didn't actually cast any spells, he could make any number of excuses for his actions. Given his support within the guild, most will believe him."

Harry grumbled, slumping back into his chair. Charlus patted his shoulder reassuringly before addressing Anton. "The Artisan Codex was Andrei's primary target.”

Anton's eyes widened. "The Codex? But why would Obsidian want it?"

"It may have ties to Galahad," Harry explained, watching Anton's reaction closely.

"I see," Anton sighed, his face clouding with concern. "His presence still lingers like a ghost, it seems."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"This castle used to be the artisan headquarters several centuries ago. At that time, rumours circulated that Galahad frequented the castle and even maintained a secret workshop filled with extraordinary artifacts."

Harry's brows furrowed. "I was asking the senior members about Galahad earlier, and they didn't mention any rumours."

"It's not common knowledge," Anton explained. "I only discovered this information in an old journal hidden away in the guildmaster's office. I've been quietly searching for the workshop ever since."

The fact that someone as knowledgeable as Anton hadn't found it yet made Harry suspect there might be more to the secret entrance than meets the eye. Perhaps only certain people, like himself, were meant to access it. 

"We need to get going," Charlus said, checking his watch. "I don't know if Andrei is still in the castle, and I'd rather not risk another confrontation. We should remove ourselves from here to ensure the boy’s safety."

Anton and Charlus stepped aside to talk privately while Harry packed his bags. Ivaylo, looking nervous but relieved, was going with them, though he wouldn't be taken to the Potter residence. Despite Ivaylo's apparent innocence, Charlus preferred to err on the side of caution. Charlus would take him to the safe house so he could join his family, while Sheena would stay with Harry.

Harry couldn’t feel even more excited to check out the Codex, since Andrei was so desperate to get his hands on it. What wealth of knowledge would he discover, and would it push his Artisan skills to another level?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry sat cross-legged on the plush carpet of his bedroom, the three Province pocket watches arranged before him. 

After sharing the news of his triumph with his grandmother and girlfriends, Harry had returned to his bedroom, eager to unravel the secrets of the watches. He hoped he wasn’t disappointed by whatever happened as a result of them coming together.

Reaching into his inventory, he withdrew an appraisal scroll. 

"Alright," he muttered to himself, "let's see what secrets you're hiding."

He placed the pocket watches on the parchment. The scroll began to glow softly, and lines of text appeared as if written by an invisible hand:

The Province Watches: Artifacts of Hyperconscious Creation

When arranged in a triangular formation, these watches generate a domain of pure thought and manifestation. The user, positioned at the centre, gains temporary mastery over reality within the bounded space.

Harry's eyebrows shot up, his heart beginning to race. "What the hell?" he whispered, excitement building in his chest. He continued reading:

Within the domain, thoughts and ideas can be given form, allowing for the conceptualisation and testing of magical theories and artifacts without physical constraints. Time flows differently in this space, granting the user extended periods of creation while mere moments pass in the outside world.

His mind whirled with possibilities. Could this be the key to accelerating his artificing work? To test designs that were too dangerous or complex to attempt in the physical world? The potential seemed limitless.

With trembling hands, Harry carefully arranged the watches in a triangle on the floor. He positioned himself in the centre, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. Focusing his thoughts, he willed the domain into existence.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a sudden shift in the air made his skin tingle, as if electricity were dancing across his body. Harry's eyes flew open, and he gasped in awe.

He found himself surrounded by a shimmering, translucent dome. The familiar contours of his bedroom were still visible beyond it, but they seemed somehow distant, less real than the space he now occupied. The air within the dome felt charged with potential, as if reality itself was waiting for Harry's command.

"Incredible," he breathed, his voice echoing strangely in the altered space. A mixture of excitement and trepidation washed over him as he realised the power at his fingertips.

When he recalled the scroll's description, Harry glanced at his wristwatch and was astonished to see its hands moving at such a sluggish pace. To gauge the exact time dilation, he slowly counted in his head while observing his watch. His calculations revealed that one hour in the domain equated to merely ten minutes in the real world, a revelation that sent a thrill of excitement through him. The domain gave him six times more time to conduct experiments and research his projects.

Armed with this knowledge, Harry eagerly continued to explore his new ability. He focused his thoughts on a simple object—a quill. To his amazement, a ghostly image of a quill materialised before him. As he concentrated harder, the quill became more solid, more real. With a mixture of trepidation and wonder, he reached out and grasped it, marvelling at its tangibility.

Emboldened by this success, Harry began to experiment further. He discovered that he could manipulate the environment around him with mere thoughts. The floor beneath him transformed from carpet to stone to wood at his whim, each texture feeling as real as the last. He conjured up a workbench, complete with tools, and watched in fascination as intricate magical diagrams appeared in the air before him, responding to his mental commands.

However, Harry soon noticed that maintaining the domain required a steady stream of magic. Within his mind, the mechanism that showed his magical reserves ticked down at a consistent rate. He estimated that he could only maintain the domain for half an hour at most, giving him about three hours inside this remarkable space. Even with this limitation, he recognised the immense potential of this ability, and a surge of excitement coursed through him at the thought of what he might achieve.

Harry wondered if he could bring physical objects into this domain. He summoned the Source from the symbol on his hand, relieved to see no adverse effects on the omnipotent book. Emboldened, he retrieved the crystal box from his inventory, which contained the device Ivaylo had used in his sabotage attempt. The artifact sat innocently within its transparent prison, its metallic surface no longer fluid but frozen in a complex geometric shape.

Harry placed the box on the ground, his heart racing with anticipation. He was about to combine the power of the domain with his Assimilate Runes skill, hoping to unravel the mysteries of this insidious device.

Closing his eyes, Harry focused his concentration and activated his skill, targeting the device. The background noise of the physical world faded away, replaced by an almost musical hum of pure magical energy. As he opened his eyes, the world around him had transformed dramatically.

The device now floated before him, suspended in mid-air. Its physical form began to dissolve, breaking down into swirling motes of golden light. As the last of its material structure faded away, its underlying runic structure was revealed—a complex, three-dimensional lattice of glowing symbols and connecting lines of force that took Harry's breath away.

Layer by layer, the runic schematic of the device began to unfold in the air around Harry, expanding to fill the dome. It was vastly more complex than anything he had encountered before, a breathtaking symphony of magical engineering that both awed and unsettled him.

The base layer consisted of a series of interlocking containment arrays, pulsing with an eerie blue light. Harry could see how they were designed to hold and slowly release a gaseous substance, their patterns shifting and flowing like water. These were overlaid with a complex array of transformation arrays, glowing a vibrant purple. As Harry focused on them, he could almost feel how they allowed the device to alter its physical form, becoming fluid and malleable at will.

As Harry delved deeper, a chill ran down his spine as he discovered a seeking array. With a start, he realised they were calibrated to home in on a specific magical signature—his own. The precision with which the device was tailored to target him was both impressive and terrifying.

However, it was the final layer that truly astonished him. A series of runes he had never encountered before, their patterns alien and unsettling. Within the domain, Harry could manipulate these runes, examining them from all angles. The more he studied them, the more confused and intrigued he became. Unlike normal runes, these were alive, constantly shifting and changing. They broke every rule he understood about runes and enchantments, operating on principles he could barely comprehend.

Harry spent over an hour examining the runic schematic, his mind reeling with the implications of what he was seeing. As he pushed his concentration to its limits, a severe headache began to build, threatening to break his focus. The domain flickered momentarily, the shimmering walls of the dome rippling like disturbed water. Harry realised that maintaining this level of mental simulation was taking a toll not just on his magic, but on his mind as well.

Reluctantly, Harry reached out and picked up one of the pocket watches, allowing the domain to fade. He got to his feet, massaging his temples as he stumbled towards his desk. While the complex runic schematic was still fresh in his mind, he grabbed some parchment and began frantically recording it down, determined not to lose any detail of this extraordinary discovery.

As he worked, Harry's mind raced with questions and theories. The device's apparent sentience and the alien runic language responsible for it reminded him uncannily of the living runes that made up Merlin's consciousness, which had gradually taken over Hogwarts castle. Could there be a connection between the two? And if so, how did the creator of this device gain access to such advanced magical knowledge?

The implications were thrilling. Harry had uncovered a new level of magical complexity, one that hinted at possibilities far beyond what he had previously imagined. But with this discovery came a sobering realisation: if Obsidian had access to this level of magical technology, the threat they posed was far greater than anyone had suspected.

As he finished transcribing the schematic, Harry leaned back in his chair, his mind awash with exhaustion.  Even though he was still curious about examining the Artisan Codex, he was too tired to take any of it in. Before he went to bed, he opened the Source again, as he had a message waiting for him.

================

The host has learned the Flux Runic Language skill!

[IV] Flux Runes 1 [50/4000]

Description: Flux Runes are a revolutionary magical script with their dynamic, lifelike nature. Unlike static runes, they constantly shift and adapt, as if they have a sentience of their own. They respond to stimuli independently, altering their structure and function to adapt to changing conditions. This self-modification enables the creation of uniquely versatile and powerful magical devices. Be warned though, that this sentience may lead to some unpredictable results that may be dangerous if not controlled properly.

=============

Harry put away the Source and crawled into bed, too fatigued to ponder the implications of his newfound skill just yet. He promised himself to reflect on it later, when his mind was clearer. As soon as his eyes fluttered shut, he slipped into a deep sleep.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry was jolted awake by a firm hand shaking his shoulder. He blinked groggily, his eyes struggling to focus on the figure looming over him.

"Come on, Harry," Charlus' voice cut through the fog of sleep. "You've overslept. We need to get you to Hogwarts."

"What time is it?" he mumbled, stifling a yawn.

"Late enough that you'll have to have breakfast at Hogwarts," Charlus replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I don't want you to be late for class on your first day back."

As Harry scrambled to get dressed, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "You know, I could always make a grand entrance with Fawkes. Imagine everyone's faces when I appear in the Great Hall in a burst of flame."

Charlus shot him a stern look. "Absolutely not. The last thing we need is for you to cause a commotion on your first day back. Now hurry up."

Ten minutes later, they were stepping through the Floo into his grandmother’s office. 

As they made their way down to the Great Hall, Harry's mind was already racing with plans for one pf his artificing project. He was eager to test out the domain again and see how much he could improve on the design. He was so lost in thought that he barely registered the sudden hush that fell over the Hall as they entered.

Then, without warning, the room erupted into cheers.

Harry blinked in surprise, his jaw dropping as he took in the scene before him. Banners hung from the ceiling, bearing messages like "Congratulations, Harry!" and "Gryffindor's Champion Artificer!" The entire student body seemed to be on their feet, applauding and cheering.

Before he could respond, his grandmother approached him and hugged him.

“I’m so proud of you,” Minerva whispered, ignoring his squirming. She held him for far too long in his opinion, before she released him and returned to the head table.

Feeling his cheeks heat up, Harry made his way towards the Gryffindor table, enduring enthusiastic pats on the back and words of congratulation from the students. By the time he reached his usual seat, he felt as if he'd run a gauntlet.

His girlfriends were beaming at him as he sat down. They surrounded him, giving him special attention that had the rest of the table wolf whistling at their antics. 

As the excitement began to die down and Harry started on his breakfast, he noticed Ron sitting further down the table, pointedly not looking in his direction. 

Harry turned to Neville. "What's up with Ron?" he asked in a low voice.

Neville shifted uncomfortably. "Well, uh, word's already spread about you and Hermione," he said, glancing towards where Hermione sat, her face buried in a book but her cheeks noticeably pink. "I think the only reason people aren't making a bigger deal of it is because they're distracted by your win at the competition."

Harry groaned inwardly. He'd been so caught up in the excitement of the competition and his discoveries about the Flux Runes that he'd completely forgotten about the potential fallout from his new relationship with Hermione. He noticed that she hadn’t given him the same welcoming as his other girlfriends, but she wasn’t one for public displays of affection. When he glanced at her, she sent him a smile that felt just as rewarding. 

Harry glanced up at the banners again, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. "Who set all this up, anyway?" he muttered.

A small, mousy-haired boy sitting nearby perked up at his words. Colin Creevey raised his hand sheepishly. "That was me, Harry," he said, his voice a mixture of pride and nervousness. "Professor McGonagall gave me permission. Do... do you like them? The fan club worked hard on them last night when your grandmother announced the news of your victory at dinner."

Harry forced a smile. "They're... very impressive, Colin. Thanks." 

As he ate, Harry found himself bombarded with questions about the competition. What kind of tasks had he faced? What was his winning creation? Was it true that he'd solved a centuries-old magical problem?

He answered as best he could, carefully omitting any mention of the Artisan Codex or the confrontation with Andrei. Those were secrets best kept close to his chest for now.

Between bites of toast, Harry's eyes kept darting to Ron, who was now engaged in a forcefully cheerful conversation with Seamus and Dean. He knew he didn’t owe the boy an explanation, but he still felt guilty. Not long ago, Ron confided in Harry about his growing interest in Hermione, and Harry reassured him that he wasn’t in a relationship with her. Now, however, it seemed that he had been less than truthful.

As if sensing his thoughts, Daphne leaned in close. "Don't worry about Weasley right now," she murmured. "Give him some time to cool off."

Harry nodded, grateful, and squeezed her hand under the table. She was right. Ron needed to stop feeling so entitled. Just because he liked Hermione didn’t mean he had any claim on her. Harry doubted she would have said yes to Ron if he asked her out. It wasn’t that Ron was a bad bloke; they were just too different.

A shadow fell over him. Looking up, he saw Headmaster Flitwick beaming down at him.

"Mr. Potter," the diminutive professor squeaked, practically bouncing with excitement. "I wonder if I might have a word with you after your classes today? I'm most interested in hearing about your work at the competition."

"Of course, Professor," Harry replied. "I'd be happy to discuss it with you."

As Harry finished his breakfast, he noticed a shift in the atmosphere around him. His girlfriends exchanged meaningful glances, and Neville fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. Harry's instincts immediately alerted him that something was amiss.

"Alright," Harry said, lowering his voice, "what's going on?”

Daphne took a deep breath. "There was an incident, Harry. Terry was attacked."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "Attacked? Is he alright?"

Hermione nodded. "He's fine. It happened right outside the Room of Requirement. Terry was about to enter when someone struck him from behind."

Harry's gaze immediately darted to the Ravenclaw table, where he spotted Terry. The Ravenclaw boy, noticing Harry's attention, gave a small wave and a reassuring smile. Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him. He reminded himself to speak to the boy later to make sure he was really okay, and if he could remember anything about the attack.

"But that's not all," Susan continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "After the attack, we tried to access the Room of Requirement, but we couldn't get in. Someone had written in the ledger inside the room, effectively locking us out."

The implications hit Harry like a bludger to the chest. His mind raced through the potential consequences, and suddenly, a chilling realisation struck him. "The vanishing cabinet," he breathed, his face paling. "It's still there. If someone has access to the room and finds it..."

"Your workshop would be vulnerable," Gabrielle finished.

Harry's heart raced as he contemplated the potential breach of his sanctuary. His artificing projects, his notes, everything could be at risk. But before panic could fully set in, Daphne placed a calming hand on his arm.

"Don't worry," she said softly. "As soon as we learned of the attack, your grandmother took action. She relocated the vanishing cabinet from your workshop to a secure location. No one has breached your space."

Harry let out a shaky breath, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for his grandmother's quick thinking. Still, questions nagged at him. "Did we leave anything in the Room of Requirement that could be used against us? Any notes or projects?"

Hermione shook her head, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I don't think so. I always make sure to tidy up after our meetings. We've been careful not to leave anything sensitive behind."

"But why didn't the attacker use the vanishing cabinet?" Harry mused aloud, more to himself than to the others. "If they had access to the room and knew about it, they could have caused far more damage."

"Maybe they don’t know what the cabinet is," Neville suggested. "Or maybe their goal wasn't to use the cabinet, but something else entirely."

Harry nodded slowly, considering the possibilities. The fact that someone in the castle not only knew about the Room of Requirement but had also managed to lock them out was deeply troubling. It suggested a level of knowledge that could pose a significant threat.

"We need to figure out who's behind this," Harry said, his voice low and determined. "Someone in Hogwarts knows about the room and is using it for who knows what. We can't let them have free rein."

His girlfriends and friends nodded in agreement, their faces set with resolve. 

"What's our next move?" Susan asked, leaning in closer.

Harry's mind raced through potential strategies. "First, we need to find a way to regain access to the room. Hermione, can you research ways to override or bypass the ledger's lock?"

Hermione nodded eagerly, already mentally cataloguing potential resources to consult.

"Daphne, Susan, can you discreetly ask around, see if anyone noticed anything suspicious around the time of Terry's attack?" The girls nodded their assent.

"We have the Marauder's Map,” Harry said. “Let’s talk to the others later. We can take turns keeping a lookout. If our mysterious attacker is still using the room, they might reveal themselves if we are patient enough."

As his friends accepted their tasks, Harry felt a familiar surge of determination. This new threat, emerging in the wake of his victory at the artisan competition, served as a stark reminder that nothing had changed at Hogwarts. There were still threats looming in the castle.

"We'll get to the bottom of this," Harry assured his friends, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "Whoever's behind this attack, whatever they're planning, we'll stop them."

After breakfast, Harry stood up with his friends and made his way to their first class. Despite the news of the recent incident, he couldn't shake his eagerness to explore the Artisan Codex. He had several projects awaiting his attention, and he was brimming with anticipation about how the Codex would help him not only expedite their completion but also elevate their designs. With his recent ability gained from the pocket watches and the runic language, he felt confident that he was on the brink of a new level of mastery.

So, what do you think? Who attacked Terry and gained access to the Room of Requirement? What are they planning?

Thanks for reading.