Hogwarts Sect of Witchcraft and Wizardry

---

The Humble Light Bringer Law is, you've come to recognize, very much a mental art. The orbs of 'Lumos' and 'Nox' appear where you envision them, and coaxing the glowing Qi to move is an effort in patience and surety of mind. Not so for the first technique of the Separating Void Paradigm.

The 'Diffindo' is all about quick, sharp motions that either follow fault-lines or create them. The starting two steps to practice with involve sheets of paper. At first you're supposed to fold creases into the pages yourself, and then trace an edge of Qi over the seam, locating the inherent separation that the line makes and enforcing that until one sheet becomes two. A simple enough task, but one you find little success with.

Gently caressing the paper with your finger gets you nowhere. You can feel the Qi, but in trying to carefully hone the edge to force the split, you actually end up growing the fold out across the whole page, smoothing the paper instead. Pressed and ironed bedsheets are a distant side-effect, and the speed at which it happens means you're no better off than just using your hands instead, but it is something. However, as you become more and more frustrated by your lack of progress - there are several steps after the first, after all - your movements naturally turn increasingly agitated.

Rushing things has rarely helped anyone, but this case appears to be an exception. Pulling your nail almost angrily across the page in one sharp motion gets you the first hint of a cut. From there, success comes like an avalanche: before long you're hacking away at crinkled balls of paper to split up ever smaller pieces. You garner a few odd looks from the other first years for karate chopping at single pages, but if it works, it's not too silly. Of course, while slicing you're also carefully studying your Qi - the next step requires that you replicate the conceptually tricky separation aspect, after all.

You keep doggedly at it until you can get a clean slice through the shirt Norbert wrecked before moving on. In the process, you finally bring down the amount of Qi you need, leaving behind the theatrical punches and returning to single finger application. Speed still remains a crucial part, so you can't just trail a digit down a page and cut out intricate shapes; it's all sharp lines and straight slices, at least for now. Something to think on when you've mastered the third step - distance.

Having scissors or a letter opener at the literal tips of your fingers is all well and good, but a whole technique just to replicate a common tool isn't what you set out to achieve. It takes you a few days of meditation to bring into harmony the duality of something meant to split and having the Qi stick together over distance. The trick, you discover, is to have two overlaid blades of energy that act like loaded springs, ready to burst apart at the first sign of resistance, which conveniently happens when they meet whatever it is you're trying to cut.

The effect is short-lived, reaching no further than a couple of yards, but it's still viscerally satisfying to split an apple in half two arm-spans away. And as an added benefit, it forces your hand to grow surer, lest you take out a splinter of the cutting board as well. By the end of the month, you feel confident in claiming mastery of the technique, and you have a solid idea of the direction you want to take the rest of the Separating Void Paradigm Law in.

Choose 1 of the options to evolve the Separating Void Paradigm Law (will not be unlocked, still needs training):

[][SVP] Horizon Slicing Technique

[][SVP] Thunderous Cut Technique

[][SVP] Searing Blade Technique

As an added positive side-effect, the increased coordination immediately gets put to use on your other project - your first charm.

Whenever you get sick of wanton destruction, you switch to working on your backup towel. It's a small and somewhat childish thing dad had you pack just in case, purple and covered in garish yellow butterflies. You decided that losing the cloth would be an acceptable loss should you mess up, so it's become the target of your experimentation. That said, the utilitarian point isn't the only reason, your familiarity with it also serves a point.

You intend to make a little cleaning aide of it, something that can scrub away at whatever you want it to, but although the purpose is close to that of a normal towel, normal towels don't fly. Therefore, if you don't want it to be a one-time use - and you don't - you'll need to impress upon the world that this towel absolutely does float on its own, and there's nothing weird about it. The books you devour on the subject talk of the distinction between 'a' and 'the'; a candle doesn't burn forever, but the candle a charmcrafter is finished with does. So, unless you mean to change all towels in the universe into animated ones, you'll need to very clearly set yours apart, and the more specific the distinction, the more power you can pour into a charm, and the more esoteric its effects can be.

That starts with a very clear understanding of what it is. With a dictionary on hand, you begin with the physical properties: size translates into such and such mystic runes in the realm of Qi, thread-count into another set. For color, you need a second book to make sure you get the right shade - the third brightness of palatinate purple, if you've read the swatches right. You've no way to track down where the cotton that went into making it grew up, so the description for make is going to be lacking, but there's nothing for it. It gets stranger from there... hopefully no one else has 'sentimental value' attached to the towel, so you can focus on what you feel about the cloth.

By the time you deem the information to be comprehensive enough, you have a dozen pages of notes, and another handful just to help you keep track of how everything is supposed to fit together. Perhaps in time, you'll develop an instinctive understanding of how to build the runic script that seems to react to Qi into a comprehensive story, but for now, you need to go through a bevy of drafts and modified book examples. Only then do you feel ready to set wand to towel.

One by one, strands of Qi get melded into the entity that is your towel, both expanding and concentrating its metaphysical essence. As you work, little pockets form between the descriptions - when you notice the first such hole, you worry that you've made some mistake, but as you continue and more of them appear, a picture starts to take shape. Each slot is meant to hold the weave of the charm's unnatural purpose; it's where you can attach the actual enchantment. The more detailed and longwinded your mystical description is, the more pockets there are.

Thus, you keep... writing, for lack of a better term, telling the story of the little towel as best you can. For a day you find yourself stumped about how to say your own name with Qi, but asking Lisa at dinner gets you the answer readily enough. Her runic word is just her initials, written by her own hand, and you see no reason not to adopt her style, so a flourished metaphor of RY fills in the blanks where your name is supposed to go. Finally, all that's left is to apply the enchantment.

It's actually sort of a letdown. Compared to the lyrical poetics you went through to pad out the entirely mundane bits of your charm, the cleaning and floating description is positively succinct. You suppose it's a good sign that everything will work how you want it to when your Qi almost leaps into shape, but the effort involved still seems to be a bit backwards. You even have enough time and space to include a faster drying function, that soon gets put to the test.

Both yourself and the other first years have fallen into the habit of early morning exercise to keep up a base level of healthy body required for a balanced cultivation. Naturally, it follows that you take to the communal showers with your dorm-mates, except this time you have an evil plan. With your towel ready and activated, you place yourself between Mandy and Padma, then splash the latter with freezing water right as she's covered in shampoo. A quick dodge of the blinded girl's retaliation later you've successfully started a water fight. The charm gives you a solid edge as it darts around you like a makeshift shield, doing its level best to keep you dry. It would probably have succeeded too, if it was any longer than your forearm. When a truce gets called, it's sopping wet, but by the time you're ready to head to breakfast, it's dried out enough to barely be considered damp, and that's after letting it give the bathroom foyer a quick once-over.

• The little towel that could
  
  Engraving runes for wood, metal and earth on a hand-towel should get you a rag that cleans for you. Whether it's your own person after a vigorous work-out session or spills from a potions experiment or just the occasional ink blot, you figure it'll serve well enough for practice and a proof of concept for something that would attend to your needs.
  Earth aspect pool dice rolls count as one higher.
  
  -4 turns until ???

Bolstered by your initial success, you jot down a couple of new ideas as well, to be pursued at some later date.

• The rainbow brush
  
  Your first foray into conjuration will appropriately be in the realm of painting. A set of gouache bottles you took with you after the winter break has largely remained untapped, and brushes are part of the stationary available to all disciples, so you have all the materials you need to work with. Coaxing the paint to appear in the hairs should be within your capabilities.
  
  Every set of four different aspects in a row grants one extra die to that pool. The sets do not overlap.
  
  Spoiler: Examples

  A pool of [fire, fire, metal, wood, water, earth, fire] will grant one extra die for the set [fire, metal, wood, water], but no more, even though [metal, wood, water, earth] also meets the criteria.
  
  A pool of [fire, earth, fire, water, fire, metal, water] will grant no extra die, as there is no consecutive set of four different elements.
  
  A pool of [fire, water, earth, metal, metal, water, fire, earth] will grant two extra die, one for [fire, water, earth, metal] and another for [metal, water, fire, earth].
  
  Every set of four implies that the effect applies to the added dice as well: a pool of [fire, water, metal, earth, earth, fire, metal] will grant an extra die, making the pool [fire, water, metal, earth, earth, fire, metal, water], which adds yet another die.
• The recorder plushie
  
  Although Halloween is still lightyears away, you won't let that stop you from making a patchwork dollie to scare people with. You'll sew together a plushie, give it buttons for eyes and try to make it able to save a simple sound to be played back at a later date. You suppose it could be cute too, but knowing your skills with a needle, or lack thereof, it'll definitely be the stuff of nightmares. On the more practical side, it's a message delivery system or an alarm clock.
  
  If wood is the most frequent aspect, reroll all lowest valued dice in the pool, keeping the higher result.
  
  Spoiler: Examples

  A pool of [fire, fire, wood, wood]>[3, 20, 3, 20] counts, and both threes are rerolled with advantage, becoming [3 13, 20, 3 1, 20]

---

As the Sunday morning progresses, it's clear that Hogwarts has run all out of disciples who don't care about quidditch. The Gryffindors are extra boisterous, seeing as the cards are stacked very much in their favor, while Slytherins find themselves in the uncomfortable position of having to root for their longtime rivals lest you force them into third place instead. Meanwhile, the Hufflepuffs have no pressure on them, and can simply enjoy the charged atmosphere. The highlight of breakfast is the Weasley twins carrying an extremely embarrassed looking Harry in on their shoulders.

"Give us some backdrop!" one of the beaters shouts.

"We're practicing our victory celebration! Let's hear it!" the other finishes as they tour the Gryffindor table, generating cheers from their own house while jeers explode from your side. A handful of benches up, Duncan and Jason both shoot you pleading looks, and you mercilessly crush their unspoken wish to put on a similar display with a resolute shake of your head.

"Let's face it," Jeremy has his hands cupped to his mouth as he shouts across the hall, "You're five years dry! But you should practice, last chance you get to try it before we make it six!"

"You won't win the game, let alone the cup!" another voice calls back before the hall devolves into unintelligible noise. Only the arrival of Elder Snape puts a stop to the shouting match, his Qi washing over the room like a tidal wave of disapproval. Thankfully you've already eaten your fill, and can beat a hasty retreat with the excuse of needing to start getting ready.

For once, the weather is sunny and warm, the cusp of summer upon you. Despite there being nearly an hour to go until game time, already a steady stream of people are making their way to the stands, and you sneak along, dipping into the locker room unnoticed.

You're expecting to feel nervous. Certainly, you're no stranger to pregame jitters, and if there was ever a game where you could make a difference, this is the one. Not only do you need to win, you need to do so conclusively, and that means dominating your section of the pitch completely. Instead of focusing on things that might go wrong, you seek to distract yourself.

It hasn't escaped you that there are only two locker rooms with seven closets for the flying weapons, but whichever you reach into, you always find your claymore waiting for you. On the floor below is a maintenance kit, and you shoulder the blade in the same motion as reaching down to retrieve it. The hunk of metal is no longer heavy in the classical sense to you, your strength enhanced by Qi as your physical cultivation has grown over the year. Swinging it manually is still a bother because of momentum and that you'd need to lift the handle above your head for an upwards swing to not get stuck in the ground, but neither of the two matters much in the air.

There, what matters much more is clarity of mind. In your imagination, the blade is pristine and free of nicks or discolorations, and in this case, it's easier to make reality match your vision. With the sword on your lap, you start your maintenance routine, this time joined by a charmed assistant. The work is repetitive and mindless, or in other words perfect for a bit of meditation to center yourself. However, as you slip into the zen state you find that not much has changed - you don't become calmer, because you're already prepared.

You strip off the old layer of oil, let your towel work on the few abrasions that have appeared since the last practice session and unwind the tassel. When you're truly focused on the weapon to the exclusion of all else, you can control each individual strand, and you do so now, ordering every fiber to float through the air, gently bringing your fingers through the fanned out tail. With another flex of your Qi, invisible blades snip any damaged hairs at the base, a process that normally takes you the better part of an hour now reduced to just a few minutes. Finally, you braid it back into your preferred arrangement of knots. It's an elaborate, complicated pattern you designed yourself; you have an excellent idea of how it looks, but other players don't, and although it's about as minimal as an advantage can be, every little bit might count.

When you return to reality, you're no longer alone, each of your teammates quietly putting the finishing touches on their own pre-game rituals. Morgan and Randolph are both going through a gamut of colors in their own interpretation of the Light Bringer Law, as the other two members who have the technique learnt. You feel a surge of pride at the sight: the signaling system was your idea, and you had a hand in developing the specific commands - the colors are purely an obfuscation, the actual message is transmitted by intensity and location. Duncan is doing pushups, while Jason sits cross-legged on his back, breathing in deep, meditative patterns. Roger is mimicking your own actions, slowly rewrapping the handle of his rapier. Your captain, however, is simply leaning against the door to the arena, watching all of you. He catches your look and gives an imperceptible nod, accompanied by a surge of wintry Qi.

As the voice of Lee Jordan echoes in from above, nothing needs to be said. The air is electric enough, a good kind of tension coursing through each of you, like freshly sharpened pencils about to draw the first line on a page.

"Brothers and Sisters of Hogwarts, oh what a wonderful year it's been! We've seen victories by the slimmest of margins, we've seen crushing defeats, we've seen the heavens defied and fates made manifest! And it all comes down to this. In the red corner, the brave, the headstrong, the clear favorites, the best house of them all! GRYFFINDOR!"

'Ah yes, Jordan hasn't exactly been impartial, has he?' you think back to the other Gryffindor games you've seen. Why they don't get a co-commentator, you don't know, but at least he's never outright mean.

"Still, there is a chance to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory here. The Azure Dragon is ever hungering! In the blue corner, the clever, the studious, it's RAVENCLAW! Can they steal the win, brothers and sisters? Only one way to know."

That's your cue, and one by one each of you dart out into the sunshine.
Madam Hooch is a distant figure in the center of the field, holding a bludger under-foot and another in one hand, the other occupied by the quaffle; the snitch is already released, flying somewhere in the vicinity of the pitch since the early morning hours. The sun is almost directly overhead, leaving neither side with any particular advantage, although if everything goes as planned, it'll have dipped to your left by the time the game is finished. The hoops have been replaced since yesterday's match, and as such, are brand new. There's no dings or patches of frost or stubborn waterdrops to cloud your imagining of the three rings, the colors on the pole are vibrant. Gliding around them as the other players reach their starting positions is effortless.

"The bludgers are off!" Jordan's voice brings your attention back to the midfield, as the two smaller balls rocket into the air, darting around like a pair of excited hounds. Madam Hooch winds up for a throw, and the game is afoot.

Six players converge on the center, but as luck - or misfortune - would have it, one of the bludgers has chosen Roger as their target. The boy snarls as he's forced into a dodge, pulling an incredibly tight turn and trying to lead the ball right back into the fray, but a momentary distraction is all it takes for the Gryffindors to come out on top.

"Angelic Johnson with the quaffle! What an auspicious name, brothers and sisters, just look at her leave the Ravenclaw captain in the dirt."

You have just enough time to roll your eyes at the butchering of the girl's name before she's on you, Roger and the bludger maybe twenty feet behind her. Rumors of her speed have not been understated, and you can just barely sense yellow sparkles of Qi that smell of ozone as she lines up the first shot of the game, never slowing her breakneck pace.

You can either predict or react. If you go with the former, you have a one in three shot of catching the ball outright, but if you guess wrong, not only will she score, she'll also have a free path to catch the proverbial rebound. If you choose the latter, then by your own estimate, you'll manage a deflection at best, unless she completely fumbles.

You'd like to say that you react, confident in your own skill, but really, you just hesitate a second too long with your guess, and get saved by predicting the right goal.

The shot is masterful, twirling through the air with a wicked curve, swooping low before starting to rise, and you're forced to leap off the claymore, trusting that the sword can catch you before you plummet to the ground below. Despite that, your flying kick just barely nicks the quaffle, sending the ball off target by the tiniest of margins. With the sound of leather on wood, the quaffle slams into the rim of the hoop, rebounding back towards the side of the pitch.

You barely catch the cross-guard as your sword swings around, and are left dangling for a split second as two shapes blur past you, one red and the other blue.

"Bludger!" Roger shouts at you as he rushes past, hot on Johnson's heels.

The sword hanging over you obeys your will perfectly, and without even looking behind you, you bring it down in a swooping arc. With a loud twang, metal meets ball as you barely manage to hang on, jostled by the impact. Barely - but still enough. With the assistance of Qi, you curl yourself up, performing a one-handed pullup while your eyes try to reestablish control of the situation. It's the commentator that gives you a much-needed hint.

"A miraculous save by the Beacon, but us Gryffindors are not so easily stopped! Johnson with the ball again; Davies, you better not foul her!"

You have naught but a moment to catalogue Jason's arrival at the scene, the beater chasing after the bludger, but the stubborn ball once again forces Roger to perform a flip, sensing the approaching doom with his Qi.

It's the bare minimum needed to dodge, but the Gryffindor chaser is ready for it. Between one breath and the next, she shoots again, and this time, even if you were ready to make the prediction, there's no way you'd reach the far ring in time. The claymore may answer to your imagination, but there's only so many laws of physics you can break at once, and air resistance remains a thing you have to account for, lest you lose synchronization between reality and idea.

"Ten-nothing!" Jordan's voice joins the cheering from the stands.

---

'Not over yet,' you think to yourself as you finally recover your position, right as Randolph reaches the quaffle, scant breaths ahead of Spinnet. With his right arm flashing bright for a moment, he passes the ball back to you and sharply pulls up, his trident entirely vertical with the teen hanging on to the prongs.

Right arm stands for himself, and the situation is almost exactly like you want it to be. Johnson and Roger are stuck together on the wrong side of the field, and they even have a bludger to slow them down, although you suspect that as soon as you clear the keeper circle Jason will send it towards Harry instead. Duncan is putting on a masterclass on denial for the Weasley twins, shadow-boxing with the other bludger while keeping just barely out of reach of either twin.

You're holding the quaffle securely to your chest, and with a flex of your Qi, the ball lights up as you let go with one hand, and simultaneously call a second orb into the empty space you mime grasping. Then you amp up the brightness. Normally, you'd blind yourself doing this, but another mote of energy coalesces over your face, leaving the sunny day looking like twilight. The first orb you throw is a feint, and the Gryffindor chaser doesn't fall for it, but really, she's not meant to. Instead, she goes for the second ball of light that leaves your hands, completely missing the dark spot left behind. You can't really blame her, staring at the quaffle would be just as bad for her, but with well-practiced sleight of hand under the cover of brightness you've switched the two techniques. All that's left is to give the other girl a beaming smile as the quaffle shoots past her and right into the flight-path of Randolph high above.

You've heard your Dad say that in football, the ball is always faster than a player, but in quidditch, that's not necessarily the case, which is why dragging players off course is so important. During your practice sessions, the three chasers of your team swore up and down that you were by far the most annoying keeper to play against. Judging by the grimace on Spinnet's face as she blinks spots out of her vision, you suspect they were not exaggerating. You strobe yourself for good measure, blasting both her and Johnson with another dose of disorienting light.

"Burrow with the quaffle! Come on, girls, the game's in the other direction."

Just as the Gryffindor beaters manage to corner Duncan, he delivers a haymaker of a punch and sends the bludger towards Jeremy and Wood, the two captains jostling for position. One of the twins was positioned to stop a shot at their keeper, but your teammates are on the same page: Jeremy darts to the side and the lump of metal and leather curves towards him, leaving the Gryffindor right between it and the goals, while Randolph closes in.

Katie is moving to stop him, but what Roger is to speed, Randy is to close quarters encounters. If there's a way through a player, he'll find it. Barely slowing down at all, he rushes towards Katie, who clearly expected to have a few more moments to get in position. Technically your teammate is close enough to take a shot, especially with Wood forced to dodge, but the girl is still in his way. Or at least, that's what you'd think, he clearly has a different opinion. One moments past the last one, he lobs the quaffle above the two of them, then launches himself into a flip. His trident passes just inches below the other chaser's scimitar, while he goes soaring over her, his foot kicking the quaffle right at the apex of his jump. The central goal is free, and without even touching the rim, the score is evened, and your captain catches the kick as if it was meant as a pass to him.

"Oh no! Disaster! Come on, Gryffindor, we can't let them run the show like this," Jordan pleads from the stands, but his comments are almost drowned by the roar of the crowd behind you.

---

Roger and Johnson are still barely across the midfield line. You'd say that in a direct sprint, the Gryffindor would be just a smidge faster, but your teammate has her beat on maneuverability, always keeping one step ahead of her and stopping her from rushing across the pitch to help her team. One of the Weasleys has control of the bludger, but although it's hard to tell from a distance, he seems unsure what to do with it, casting glances between Roger, Morgan and Jeremy. The seekers, as planned, are stuck tightly together, both dancing around each-other and the other bludger. It looks like experience shows - Harry has no clue how to deal with a seeker that just tries to get in his face, and Jason sneaking around them and corralling them towards the ground doesn't help.

Wood lets Jeremy score again, uncontested, in order to better position for a block against Randolph, but that too is accounted for. Although you're too far to see it, you can absolutely imagine the wintry essence of ice draped over the quaffle by your captain, which makes catching the ball a pipedream. Two flashes to Randy's right signal the opposite of where he'll be shooting, and another kick sends the quaffle careening right back at the Gryffindor goals. The enemy keeper tries, but he's not prepared for the technique to remain in effect, and the quaffle slips cleanly through his fingers, landing your team another goal.

"Brother Oliver is getting run ragged! Where are the beaters?!"

Right on cue, the twin with the bludger makes the decision to send it at Jeremy, and Spinnet and Katie are boxing Randy out of the convenient angles. Your captain has to make a choice between risking contesting the keeper, dragging the play out with the numbers against you or scoring one last goal and letting the rebound be caught by the Gryffindor chasers. He goes with the latter, noticing that Johnson is also about to arrive, having finally broken marginally more free of Roger.

"An explosive counter, but clearly they can't keep it up!"

Wood shouts something at Johnson, but the message is lost as Roger releases his own technique, a roar echoing off condensing water droplets that are meant to distort vision and sound. Regardless of what he meant to say, there's two other opponents closing in on you, your own teammates near, but still a step behind.

Unlike the previous situation under the enemy goal, they won't have the chance to set up. Katie has the quaffle, and although Spinnet is pouring on speed to get behind you, you've no intention of ever letting the ball reach her there. Katie's shot is good, but without any distractions, you're simply better. Flashes of light and darkness blossom like flower between her and the goals, and you intentionally leave the side your sword is angled towards more visible. She takes the bait and tries to score in the left ring, but you're there first, twirling on the blade to bleed the momentum of the throw.

A flash of light across your chest signals the target of your pass, and Jeremy has no trouble catching the quaffle and swinging into a downward loop, keeping his momentum up for another offensive.

Although your chasers don't manage to replicate their initial success, both Weasley twins and Johnson instructed to remain on the defensive by Wood, there's still a goal or two scored. On the counter-attacks, you manage to surprise even yourself. Qi flows around you with unprecedented clarity; each time you light up, it's like a flash has gone off in your head, bringing your surroundings to crystalline clarity. The image you have of your side of the field is absolute, from the clouds above to the grass below, you feel as if you're inside your very own mental palace, and your claymore responds as if it were your own hand.

No leap is too daring, no shot too fast to reach. On the rare occasion that you're forced to concede even a single goal, you're the one to catch the quaffle, everything already perfectly calculated to your advantage, every path foreseen. There are two numbers in your head - the points you need for a win of the cup, and the score-line you need to render the snitch irrelevant for the former.

---

There's still a ways to go towards the second, but the first has just been crossed. With Randy and Jeremy chipping away at the enemy's goalposts, and your own Herculean efforts to prevent the same happening to yours, you need a hundred and fifty extra points to break the overall stalemate in your favor. Clearly, the same calculation is going through Jeremy's mind, as he cups his hands to his mouth and blows out a stream of freezing air, the wind shrieking in the thin gap made by his fingers and lips. It's how he signals for an update from Morgan, who replies by making an orb either above his head if he doesn't see the snitch, or below his weapon if he does. So long as Harry hasn't spotted the golden ball, you've agreed that the captain gets to choose whether to try and end the game.

An end that might be necessary sooner than you'd prefer. What began as a torrent has slowed to a bare trickle. The Gryffindors have caught on to your plans at last, and Roger is clearly starting to flag. Marking someone isn't easy, especially when the person knows that that's all you'll do. Johnson has started to conserve her own strength, opting instead for feints and distractions. Likewise, attacking into two beaters has taken a toll on your other chasers. Jeremy is obviously slower than he was at the start of the match, and Randolph is favoring his left - weaker - shoulder for throws after a bad graze.

Not to mention that you yourself are starting to feel the burn. Bolstered by Qi or not, blocking an equally enhanced throw still stings, and your palms have long since grown numb. That just means that you've pushed yourself harder to make the catches against your body, but sooner or later, you'll have to resort to more deflections. Which in turn will place more pressure on your chasers, freeing up Gryffindor to return to their preferred offensive style of play. In other words, an absolutely unacceptable outcome.

"Another feint by Brother Roscrow, no doubt! Who does he think he's fooling, really?"

You've no time to take in the seeker play, not even to check if the lack of a second whistle means that Morgan doesn't have a bead on the snitch or that he should go for it. Across the field, Randy is forced to dodge out of the way of a bludger and fumbles a pass. At the same time, Johnson finally outsmarts Roger and darts below him to catch the falling quaffle. Like a lightning bolt, she homes in on the ball and turns on a dime as soon as she has it in her grasp.

"Wait a moment, that's no feint! Go, Harry, go!"

Actual sparks jump off the red robes flapping furiously in the wind as Johnson races towards you. In what seems like an instant, she's crossed the halfway point.

"This is it, even I can see the gold. Will the fable of David and Goliath repeat itself or will the big bad villain bully our young seeker out of a well deserved win, brothers and sisters?"

The Gryffindor star chaser is winding up for a shot, the string of her war bow pulled taut as she prepares to launch herself forwards for the very last bit of extra momentum. If she scores it won't matter who catches the snitch, you'll still lose the war. Lights explode behind you like fireworks, your speed at creating and extinguishing them displaying your hard-won skill over the year.

She feints once, and you almost fall for it. The tassel of your blade leaps up to your rescue, letting you jump off the other way, leaving your sword behind. A clean catch is out, but you know you can make it - all you need is a punch. Just barely do you make it, once again forcing the quaffle to bounce off the rim of the hoop in a replica of the first minute of the game. However, this time Roger isn't directly behind her, and you're too far from your sword to land on it. Instead, you grab the pole, swinging around it, only to watch in horror as the rebound is caught by Angelina.

Almost in slow-motion, she rolls over, bringing her body just over the edge of the keeper circle, and shoots again. Your sword, which is moving towards you, your connection weakening by the moment as you're apart from it, is going in the wrong direction, but it's your only chance. With an effort of will, you send the claymore towards the far pole instead - a single-minded shove of psychic energy forces the weapon to change course one last time. But your vision of reality doesn't lie to you: you're a good flier because you know how fast the metal can move through air, and it won't be fast enough.

'The sword might need to account for air resistance, but Qi doesn't!'

With ingenuity born of desperation, you catch the final string of energy you sent towards the sword to make it change direction. It's still in the air, already rushing past the tip of the claymore, pure and unaspected. In the quickest transformation of your life, you force it to change.

"Diffindo!"

Modelled off your flying sword, the edges form in an instant, and with a booming clap, the very air before your blade parts. The shockwave of sound rattles you, and you almost lose your grip, but you've only got eyes for the hoop, the sword and the ball. A muffled whack is followed by the sound of metal on wood. Your claymore is forced to crash against the goal, where it forms a steely bar between Gryffindor and victory.

"Saved!? No, I cannot believe my eyes, how did that happen? No time, brothers and sisters, Samuels with a low blow against Harry! The bludger could really hurt someone like that, but Brother Roscrow is undeterred!"

Johnson is already blazing forwards again, but Roger is finally here to keep her from leaving the circle. You leap from goalpost to goalpost to catch up to your sword, slowly tumbling towards the ground as the enchantments on it stop it from falling like a normal hunk of metal would. But none of that matters as a screech of rent air signals the arrival of Madam Hooch, and the end of the game, Morgan's fist clasped firmly around the snitch, two fingers up in a V for victory.

---

The whole sequence of events that follows feels surreal, as if you were in a dream. Roger looks absolutely dead on his feet, Duncan and Jason can't stop staring at each other with silly grins plastered all over their faces, Randy keeps twitching, as though he expects someone to come and say the whole thing is a misunderstanding, and Jeremy is more caressing than cleaning his axe. Only Morgan seems to have his wits about him, looking over the team with a small, secretive grin. Then Cho explodes into the locker room and launches into a leaping tackle that some might describe as an enthusiastic hug at you, her mouth going a mile a minute, giving you a play-by-play of the match you just finished.

Then you're all back on the turf, arranged in a line in front of elders Sprout and Flitwick, both with smiles on their faces, and a massive plaque filled with tiny text behind them. With a twirl of her wand, Elder Sprout engraves the words "Hogwarts Sect of Witchcraft and Wizardry Quidditch Cup, 1991-1992" below a line of Hufflepuff names from last year. Then, Elder Flitwick takes over, and one by one each of your own names appears on the metal, forever immortalized in the sect's history.

Achieving victory means your team's success will form a basis for future Ravenclaw teams to look up to, pick 1 trait that Rei feels best describes her place on the team:

[][Quidditch] The Beacon

[][Quidditch] The Shield

[][Quidditch] The Omen

[][Quidditch] Write-in

---

The party in the Ravenclaw tower is even more wild than you expect, but honestly, you're far too tired and crashing from adrenaline to really enjoy it. So it's with some relief that you excuse yourself when Jeremy and Robert Hilliard return from Elder Flitwick's office and motion for a moment of silence.

"Firstly, the rote formalities," the prefect starts, "A hearty congratulations and three points each to our victorious team from the honored Elder."

That brings you up to five points, and you seriously doubt that you'll go dry tomorrow either.

"As an addendum, this one had a side-wager with Sect Brother Percival Weasley. As the obvious winner, it'd be remiss of me to not extend my personal gratitude to the woman of the match as well. Another point to you, Junior Sister Young."

Unexpected, but hardly unwelcome, you can only smile and nod. You were a smidge embarrassed and very much surprised when the vote was a landslide in your favor, but apparently you were the only one who wasn't expecting the result. That said, you did enjoy the antics of your team acting like bridesmaids as you threw the cutlery crown at them.

"Today's victory also brings us another step closer towards winning the house cup. Seeing as there's only one year here who have won before, perhaps you'd like to say a few words, Senior Brother Roscrow?"

The seeker shrugs, "These are my last days in Hogwarts, and my attachment to this place is the only reason I haven't proceeded with my ascension yet. The portkeys handed to the winning house can be used to pursue niche interests or research projects, of course, but the most valuable aspect is the fact that you can return here, even if it's for a little while. The castle is empty of disciples, and the elders have more time to devote their attention to you. I've always thought it also serves as a good filter for only teaching motivated students. Furthermore, I'd credit my early success at the sect to the brief access I had to the Jade Chit Vault. It's where I learned the Humble Light Bringer Law, and as you can see, fate has a strange way to make things come back full circle."

He clears his throat, "And I think it'd really suck if Slytherin won for the seventh year in a row. It's a matter of principle at this point."

"What's a jade chit?" you can't help yourself any longer.

"Crystallized understanding made of Qi," the prefect answers your question, "You'll be expected to create a single token in your sixth year, to put their value in perspective. That description is a massive over-simplification, of course, but such is Dao. You meditate with it to turn someone else's understanding of something you have only the barest inkling of into your own at a breakneck pace."

Material rewards are nice and all, but secretly you can't help but agree with Morgan's last statement. You shudder to think how big a head one might get after seven victorious years in a row.

---

To your surprise and no small amount of confusion, the monthly point ceremony on the next morning is presided over by a lone Elder McGonagall. While you'd very much like to know why she's the only one here, a single glance at her stony face dissuades you from poking your nose into elder business. She unfurls a scroll and begins the proceedings as usual.

"For notable advancement in History, this one calls upon Millicent Bulstrode."

The girl has barely made it to the stage before the elder continues, "In Defense, Dean Thomas."

Next on the dais for Herbology is Sue, followed shortly by Mandy who gets a point in Potions, looking just a bit relieved that Elder Snape isn't the one handing out her point.

Then it's your turn on stage. "For joint achievements in Charms and Transfiguration, the sect recognizes Rei Young."

No sooner than your joining your housemates on stage does she carry on, "For developing a deeper understanding of Astronomy, the sect grants a point to Daphne Greengrass."

The blonde girl takes her place next to you, her expression entirely neutral.

"Lastly, for overall improvement to their skills and cultivation, the sect awards two points to Draco Malfoy."

If you're honest with yourself, you feel a bit cheated. It would have been nice to completely sweep the competition right on the cusp of the examination, especially considering your dual wins. Alas, you must content yourself with the fact that the elders know better. If the whole system were rigged, you doubt that the almighty rumor mill wouldn't be in a tizzy about it.

Meanwhile, the elder waits not a moment longer than it takes for Malfoy to reach the front. As soon as he joins your line, Elder McGonagall turns on her heel and with a snap of her fingers, the parchment disappears as she marches towards a side-door. A rather curt dismissal, you feel, but also not entirely out of character.

---

• Pick 3 to 5 training actions, you may pick the same one multiple times:
  -[][Training] Spiritual cultivation
  -[][Training] Physical cultivation
  -[][Training] Herbology
  -[][Training] Potions
  --[] Which potion (see library)
  -[][Training] Charms
  --[] Which charm (see library)
  -[][Training] Transfiguration
  --[] Which technique (see library)
  -[][Training] Astronomy
  -[][Training] Breakthrough attempt
• Optional point expenditure (you have 8 points):
  -[][Points] Write-in
• Not all of your time is spent on the path to enlightenment, your peers also demand some of your attention, and when you one day look back, some events would stand out:
  [][Social] Rather than facing exams at the end of the schoolyear, the fourth year disciples compete against each other in a year-long tourney. The finals are a public spectacle, and you have no intention of missing out on the show.
  [][Social] Although you estimate that the odds are slim, this could be your last chance to confront Daphne Greengrass about your family connection.
  [][Social] Contrary to the rumors, Harry Potter is nothing more than a polite twelve year old boy. You sincerely doubt that he's taken Gryffindor's loss of the quidditch cup to heart, but you'd still best make sure that that is the case.
  [][Social] The Ravenclaw first year study club is becoming more active as the year draws to a close. Although you might not say so out loud, you know you're quite highly advanced in your chosen fields, and helping your peers cram in some last minute study seems like the right thing to do.
  [][Social] You've managed to bring a doodle or two off the page - literally, in some cases - but you'd like to strive for more. Find a model and really put your skills to the test, both artistically and in the realm of Qi animation.
  -[] Optional write-in who?
  [][Social] Megan Jones has offered to employ you as a test subject for her confectionary experiments. A payment in sweets is acceptable for you.
  [][Social] You'd laugh if someone told you you'd be interested in politics a year ago, yet here you are, once more seeking out Tracey for an enlightening discussion on modern history of the immortal kind.
  [][Social] You're cornered by Hannah, who demands an exact retelling of your impromptu healing under the merciless hand of Madam Pomphrey.
  [][Social] Sue and Mandy both seem to be the outdoors types, and your visit to the Forbidden Forest wasn't all that bad. Try to get your friends to be each other's friends and take a trek through the woods together.
  [][Social] Hurricane Chang has decided to spend an afternoon with you, and the topic of the day is obviously going to be Quidditch.
  [][Social] Write-in

Please place training actions and point expenditure in plan format, then vote for however many social actions you'd like, with the top selections getting picked depending on how many free timeslots you have (minimum of 3).

There is a roughly 2 hour moratorium.