Hogwarts Sect of Witchcraft and Wizardry

So, while we slowly come to the closing of first year, I figured that maybe someone could potentially be interested in either the hows or results of some of the various rollers. As something that needs to be refactored to high heaven and back, I'm releasing the code for rolling combat encounters.

If you're interested in coding as a professional, please look away, as I'm sure it'll make your eyes bleed. If you've (like me) ever wondered just what goes into running a quest, perhaps this serves some purpose.

For the grand majority of people whom this even applies to at all however, the bit to actually input stats and get out results is on the very bottom, under labels "p1" and "p2". P1 is your own stats (either Rei's or the Ravenclaw team's), whereas P2 is whoever you're going up against. Hopefully the names are self-explanatory. The final bit to modify is the line "activePotions", where you can choose your preferred cocktail of performance enhancing drugs. Just pick any from the list above it and slot them in.

You'll get out the result of a single combat encounter, as well as the chance of a player victory over 10000 of such encounters.

As for why it needs refractoring, you'll note that there's no place to include enemy (or ally) potions. This needs to (read I want it to) change. How exactly I'll achieve that I don't know, but I'll figure something out.

The code can be run on any python compiler, including online ones. Personally, for quick and dirty testing, I use this one.

A couple of simulations later, you might notice that combats tend to be brutally short. In some sense, it's a good thing, but on the other hand, I'd still prefer for there to be a few more rounds of narrative tension. Thankfully, there's a pretty simple fix: improve health scaling - both what you gain from physical cultivation and the base number. This is a result of transfiguration bonuses growing larger, which means that even a single success is enough to reliably wipe out most of a health bar. Numbers are still being considered, but expect that to be one of the end-of-year changes planned.

Something similar applies to quidditch: the other players' stats have always been brought down to Rei's supposed level. This is an arbitrary abstraction for the sake of the story, and I don't think anyone really minds. However, as Rei grows, so too do the stats of the enemy team. Next year, a generic disciple's stats are 7d24 for a pool, +50 bonus. The same multiplicative system applies as before. Also, I'll be looking at whether the bonus scaling is still necessary, although I'm not sure about that either way as of yet.

---

The Fire-Omen, while amplified by the Elder especially, is a fine thing, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy staring at a flame... at least from a safe distance. But fire has never been the most 'you' element. Sure, the Lightbringer Law is primarily fire, but that doesn't have to define you as a person. Then again, neither do the rites you end up studying after bulldozing through a handful of tomes.

The first one you decide on is one you have some familiarity with. Which definitely helps, because otherwise you wouldn't have picked it in a million years. Lavender's tea-leaf reading is a form of divination called tessomancy, even if she does her schtick by instinct alone. Tessomancy itself however, is merely one form of haruspexy - or in more familiar terms, reading the future from entrails. Pagan rituals of slaughtered livestock don't appeal to you, but once it becomes apparent that plant life sacrifice or the stains of leftover food on a finished plate also count, you find yourself engaged.

The reading happens by inverting wood Qi, and seeing what the element of growth and creation does once released from its mortal coil. Knowing yourself, you'll be experimenting for quite a while to see what exactly works best for you, but examining the sear patterns on fried eggs doesn't sound nearly as gruesome when phrased as such, rather than dissecting the burnt remains of once potential baby chickens.

The second rite you pursue in depth is the art of predicting not just the weather itself, but the future based upon meteorological phenomena. The clearest results come from listening to the biggest bodies of water you have access to, as something that amplifies even the smallest changes in air pressure. From tides and the energy of the moon to complicated atmospheric weather patterns, bits of the future are encoded in nature by its own laws, and that's before Qi even enters the picture.

Qi doesn't have any single personality, you suspect, but it does have different flavors to it, and some run stronger than others. The strongest of them all is its desire for auspicious patterns, it's cyclic desire for and creation of wonder; your own reputation performing cartwheels over your first few months at Hogwarts a prime example. While it's hardly impossible for a funeral to be held on a sunny day, Qi conspires to have such things happen on overcast ones. A storm harbors change, a rainbow hope and joy. There are finer examples too, of leaves blowing in a westward wind bringing melancholy to a ray of dawn being witnessed through a gap in mountain peaks giving hope.

Taken together, with a few hours of intense concentration under open skies, you can build quite a detailed picture of what Qi intends to have happen to you. Provided you interpret the signs correctly and that you actually have accurate models to work off of. All things that come with practice.

Thus, you set aside a day near the end of August, and finally give your best effort to determine what the future holds for you.

The Fire-Omen is simple enough to set up. A quick visit to a crafts store nets you a scented candle, and for once you skip your morning workout in favor of meditating on the flame. The fire is uniform and calm, the candle burning down evenly, with few disruptions. Your own breath doesn't accidentally hit the light, and even the thin vine of vanilla scented smoke doesn't break into eddies. Still, a lack of omens good or ill is a sign in and of itself. Should you choose to take the advice given to you by the fire Qi to heart, you most likely won't have anything earth-shattering happen to you. Well, for a week or so, at least; you don't delude yourself about your mastery of recognizing subtler signs, or lack thereof.

For reading the weather you sneak onto the roof of your apartment complex. Next month, you'll have the great lake at Hogwarts to tap into, but you doubt that you could find a suitable place to observe the Thames. Instead, you bring a blanket, a bottle of water for Rex and lay down to watch the clouds. The sky is not completely overcast, although with your improved senses, there really is no such thing as a monotone grey cloudscape. Perhaps if you had ordered things differently, you could have had a chance to gaze at cumulus clouds, with expressive shapes that are easy to interpret. Alas, you didn't, so you're left staring at stratocumulus fog banks as the wind slowly picks up. Once you get used to it, however, you spot a friendly looking cloud drifting over you, shaped like a heart with a smile etched into the middle. It's a high cloud, so rather than rush past you at speed, it takes its time, and you have the chance to study it properly. Nice and white and fluffy, and as it blocks the sun, it gets Rex's approval as well. If anything, you wouldn't mind this one being the omen to describe your future.

Haruspexy, in contrast, works best in the dark. Although you try to scrub its inherent morbidity as much as possible, there's still a mildly ominous atmosphere to your egg boiling. Then again, you can lean into that as well, as a balancing factor more than anything. You chose to go with an egg, painted it with a few edible dyes, and now watch it get over-cooked. Before long, the brittle shell gives way along invisible fault lines and a bit of the white peeks out, drifting and solidifying in the pot. In a confirmation of your other two readings, the crack doesn't break into any of the positive symbols you drew, but neither does it destroy the negative ones, snaking between miniature art pieces. Other than tasting a bit rubbery for your tastes, it too suggests a rather ordinary start to your school year. Which, you suppose, is better than the worse alternative.

• Aeromancy

• Haruspexy

---

Spirits don't learn like humans do. You could spend all day lecturing Rex about something he clearly should be capable of, but if your approach doesn't click for him, you'll have made absolutely no progress. On the other hand, once you find the right ways to convey your thoughts, he can expand his abilities at a pace so astonishing you could swear that he was just messing with you and holding himself back, just so you would spend more time on him.

When you gave a description of what you were looking for, Madam Pince responded with a reserved 'hmm?', which is more positive than you've ever seen of the woman. Whether it was because of a first year disciple asking for spirit rearing techniques, or the fact that you were looking to expand upon something Rex does naturally you've no way of knowing. Still, while you've never doubted Hogwarts' library-ly capabilities, you are happy to confirm them all over again as you return home with a light green... peat brick statuette? Rather than a scroll or abstraction, what you get is more like a small stele.

The instructions are the same as last time, and with Rex placed in your lap, you pull in your Qi. Somewhat to your disappointment you don't get a front row seat to how your familiar views the world. Instead, you find in your mind a rather dry series of instructions and Qi-speak that would best communicate to mossballs the natural expansion of their encompassment abilities. You decide you like your name more, but what you can't deny is their effectiveness.

In scant days Rex goes from being kind of soft at times to literally being able to support your weight on a single strand of fiber. Punches and kicks - once you've made sure he understands that this is only for training and only so long as he's okay with it - come to a steady halt, as if you were striking into gradually denser and denser liquid. Although your falling tests are nowhere near as thorough, you can't imagine why the same principles wouldn't hold up.

The other notable effect from your sessions is rather more strange, at least for you. Normally the little guy is still somewhere between the size of your fist or palm, depending on how puffy he's feeling, but when he wants to be bigger, he just... is. Rex can stretch out to nearly your whole height, if not quite your volume in size, without the moss part of him looking at all taut or spread thin. When you try to interrogate him on where he's keeping his extra bulk, you simply get confusion in reply. Apparently his moss isn't exactly confined to three dimensions, and for him, it's always there, folded neatly inside himself. When you ask if growing like that is tiring for him, the best you get back is a feeling of walking without bending your knees - not difficult or unpleasant, but awkward and unnecessary all the same.

As usual, you also make sure to jot down your current thoughts in detail, so that when you next get the chance to really push Rex, you'd be starting with a good and organized mindset.

• Parachute

---

The way creating colors with the chroma-caller technique feels most natural to you is by changing an already existing color into something else. It's also how you could best contextualize your experience as light and meeting said spell in action. You were one thing, and became another. But who's to say that what's really happening isn't instead the creation of an entirely new color.

At least, that's your thought process. From your research, wood and water are reasonably complementary elements, and as such you decide that having one replace the other shouldn't be too tricky as a first test of your theories.

In many ways, your intuition proves correct. The formulas for replacement turn out to be rather simple to solve, the two end results' diagrams looking very close to identical. What you struggle with is reconceptualizing things in your mind. You push in wood Qi as best as you are able, and everything seems to be working, but the spell lacks a logical endpoint, a stable configuration. Try as you might, you either end up smothering an output of transformation grounded in water Qi with wood, or don't give the technique enough oomph to properly materialize.

Returning to your calculations doesn't help - everything has been triple-checked and simply feels correct. There should be no quantifiable difference between the amount you push in as water or as wood. Indeed, nothing is going wrong on the starting line, it's the finish that you can't seem to land. And the problem isn't Qi, at least according to the raw numbers, the problem is in your understanding, which calls for introspection.

In the meantime you finish your essay and return to Elder Vector for advice, only to receive a list of recommended literature that should last you about two years and a gentle rebuke to figure things out on your own. So, meditation it is.

You'd like to think you have a pretty good understanding, at least on a relative basis, of transfiguration. Of the changing nature of things and how Qi can be used to bring about almost any imaginable state, and then some. Indeed, you're pretty confident that the conflict can not be because you are misinterpreting the role of the technique. Not only can you perform it just fine without adjustment, but the conflict is explicitly between your inputs and outputs, not the result and expectation of such. Even more so because you can get it to almost work, for brief moments the colors created by your mind bursting into reality with unparalleled vibrancy. There's a realness to the product of your illusions that doesn't quite happen with a water natured transformation, which is faster to take hold, and more malleable - at least you suspect that part, your experiments not lasting long enough to properly verify such claims.

The next bit to get taken to the microscope is your understanding of light. And again, you can't find yourself wanting. You've nearly a year of experience with creating, twisting, controlling and even becoming light. If there was something fundamental you were missing, you doubt that simply thinking hard about the issue would solve things. And while giving up and passing the problem over to smarter future-Rei does have its appeal, it also has significant drawbacks, not the least of which is your burning curiosity about why your efforts bear no fruit.

Still, you come awfully close to doing that before an epiphany strikes you: you falter not because of what you're doing, but what you're not doing. You've replaced one element with another, and been successful, but you never took into consideration how the two should interact themselves. Somewhere along the way, a harmony between different types of Qi gets lost. You've been trying to pare things down, to simplify and replace, but perhaps it's okay that a modification makes things more complicated. You've been trying to take out water and put in wood, when you should have been trying to just add wood to an already working technique.

You push and prod, going so far as to get your wand out to help you entwine and combine the primal elements into something new, a higher order of Qi, and to your surprise and delight, it barely takes a few tries to see initial success. Describing Qi can always be a bit tricky in your mind, precisely for the reasons that Elder Flitwick once explained to you. Perhaps it is your work with light-waves and elementary particles - thank you Elder Vector's reading list - that has you thinking in terms of vibrations and frequencies.

There are five completely independent forms of Qi: the primal elements you're already familiar with. Most of the real world however is essentially noise, a seemingly random mish-mash of waves on turbulent seas. But you have to ask yourself: why? Why are there specifically five frequencies, when Qi can do anything you will it to. Wood and water can exist in the same space without interacting, but why should they? With a little mental twist you push the two together, still separate entities but linked by your will.

Well, maybe you're underselling the complexity a bit. It's almost a physical limitation on your non-body that suddenly clicks into place, an eureka moment of 'huh, guess I can do that,' which leaves you feeling a bit dizzy for the next few hours. However, once you've done it once, it's almost trivial to do so again.

The first thing you do with your new knowledge is go through your theory base again. After a few minutes, you resolve to have something similar to Elder Vector's blackboard, as the symbols and operators suddenly feel as though they describe a whole new dimension, but slowly you push through. To your relief and also a small amount of surprise, you discover that your old work is essentially still correct, which is why you achieved any result at all, and your failure truly was a matter of mindset.

There is but one thing left to do, and that is to name your new aspect. Well, extremely unlikely to be yours in the classical sense, but still. Truth be told, there isn't much hesitation; a combination of wood and water, of growth and change has already been labeled in your subconsciousness - you've created the aspect of life.

With your new harmony, the technique comes to life once more. Now that you know how to have the two elements working together, its a simple matter to reduce the prominence of one until your spell does exactly what you want it to.

To the untrained eye, the resulting cavalcade of color could be interchangeable between your old and new approaches, but a closer examination lends credence to your initial observations. It's easier to cycle from color to color with water, to shift the light you create from one wavelength to the next, and actually a bit taxing to keep it as a steady light. Wood on the other hand has a feel to it. A warmth, although not a physical heat, or perhaps a presence to the colors that make you firmly believe that the football you conjure up is actually truly real, despite your knowing full well to the opposite. If anything, it's your third eye that's the most fooled, insofar as it can be fooled at all.

Emboldened by your success and armed with new understanding of matters, it takes you much less headache to find the right twist to apply to the Whip Shear technique, but this time the switch itself takes more effort to theorize through.

To combine the reliability of metal and the support of earth comes quite naturally, and the resulting Qi feels more solid and physical than just about anything else, a reassuring, but also an inevitable presence in your mind. Mighty and unyielding, you feel that the right term for it is mountain Qi, but applying the concept to a cutting technique gives you pause. How do you combine the element of unity and solidity with a technique meant to separate?

Again, thankfully the math behind it comes to your rescue. Although there's much more work to be done, once you're finished, having truly worked through the process gives you a better grounding to understand. If metal acts as the tool which cuts, then earth is the force that can't be stopped by something as mundane as physical barriers. Rather than have a clean slice, when you push on the earth aspect, the cuts are almost ground away from the target material. Your speed suffers tremendously, anything thicker than paper taking noticeably longer to split apart, but whereas the metal natured cutter, if it cannot cut something, dissipates with little evidence to show for your efforts, the earthen version does not care.

The toughest object you wouldn't feel too bad about damaging is a solid metal handle of a construction debris bin. Your regular cutter barely cracks the paintjob before coming undone, but when you switch the aspects, the spell simply keeps going. After a handful of minutes of concentration, you steal away into the early morning one steel slice richer. Sure, the cut isn't as perfect when your attention wavered, you can even see what look like drilling marks when you thought someone was going to spot you vandalizing property, but those imperfections would only count as such if viewed through the exacting eyes of an immortal. For everyday purposes, your cuts are plenty smooth.

---

The Granger household is comfortably upper middle class. You and Dad exit the cab in front of a comely suburban house, with two wild and mysterious juniper bushes on either side of a gravel walkway. Your father was ecstatic about the idea of meeting your fellow sect member's family, doubly so because Hermione's parents are as mortal as he is. It was easy to get swept along with his enthusiasm, but it's only dawning on you now just how horribly wrong this thing could go. If you and Hermione have watered down some of the... more colorful events in different ways, you might be screwed.

"Come on, Rei. This is the correct place, right?"

You blink to clear your thoughts and give a nod, rushing the last few steps to the front door, Rex squeezing his head out of your handbag. A moment after you ring the doorbell you're greeted by a blond man.

"Good evening, Mr. Granger," you curtsey.

"Lovely to meet you, Miss Young. Hermione has told us quite a bit about you. And please, call me Hubert."

Your father takes the proffered handshake. "Jonathan. Thank you for inviting us."

You're ushered inside and through the house towards the back yard. Your hosts have decided to make the most of the ebbing days of summer and a grill is set up on the patio.

"The womenfolk are just putting the final touches on the salad. Ever since Hermione came back from that school, she's been adamant about being involved in the cooking process, and to be honest with you, I have no idea how we'll ever cope without her again. I feel like I've been eating like a horse, but it's the darnedest thing - still losing weight."

Dad gives a knowing nod, "I know exactly what you mean. Rei, why don't you see how you can help out. Let us worry about the meat, there's some tricks in these old bones yet."

You've no idea if Dad has ever actually grilled anything in his life, but you recognize a dismissal for what it is and take your exit with grace. "Sure, Dad. I'll let you two have boy-talk."

You slip back inside, and while it would be simple enough to follow the faint sounds of people to the kitchen, you decide on a slight detour, your feet carrying you to the living room, Rex looking about with as much curiosity as you.

There's a TV set into a cabinet display, but it's covered in a small layer of dust, the remote discarded on top of the thing. Instead, the rest of the wall is full of books. A full set of Encyclopedia Britannica dominates a few shelves, but your attention is instead drawn to the lower works, the ones with colorful spines and wonky fonts, on eye level for a small child.

The first name you recognize is Winnie-the-Pooh, followed shortly by the works of Lindgren and a thick tome of fairytales by the brothers Grimm. Then comes Tolkien, although the final part of the famous trilogy is preceded by a few you've never heard of. The next shelf up starts with a framed photograph showing the Grangers and a knee-high girl that could only be Hermione in front of the London Coliseum. The first book is an abridged version of Hamlet that looks brand new, followed by a much more worn adult version.

"Rei?"

You spin around, chagrined. Hermione's head is poking out of the hallway, a bowl of leafy greens in her hands. Your familiar scurries behind your leg.

"Hey, sorry, I got lost."

"No you didn't," she says, placing the salad on a cabinet, and gives you a hug. "It's so good to see you."

"And you," you reciprocate. "Listen, while we're out of earshot, do we need to get our stories straight?"

She leans away, giving you a dry look. "You do realize I don't risk my life on a daily basis, unlike some people I know."

"I don't do that every day!"

"Probably not for the lack of trying. But don't worry, my parents are only peripherally aware of quidditch."

Rex bounces to your shoulder then; evidently anyone who hugs you can't be too dangerous. Hermione blinks.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that's right, you never met. Hermione, meet Rex; Rex, Hermione. This is my familiar."

A little stick pokes out next to your ear and gives a wave.

"So you went for Care of Magical Creatures? Not my first choice, but you better still tell me everything."

"Well, I kind of went for everything, but I'll try."

For a brief moment, you think you see annoyance bubble up in her Qi, but she sighs and the emotion slides away.

"You are so lucky. How do they expect others to keep up when you get two whole extra months of personal tutoring... Come on, we'll get the dinner out of the way so I can interrogate you properly."

You let out a laugh, then trail off as you realize Hermione is completely serious, and already dragging you back towards the patio.

Dinner is a pleasant affair, with you at the center of attention and Hermione backing you up with explanatory commentary. You make sure to never outright mention just how high up quidditch is played, or how quickly a bludger can go from zero to sixty - or that they can go to sixty at all. If they come away with the impression that it's like lacrosse on horseback, well that's on them for making assumptions. You are however, quite glad to note that Dad and the Grangers seem to have hit it off quite well. When Hermione badgers you into her room to show her your notes at the first possible polite moment, you're not worried about things becoming awkward at all.

---

Unlike most of your other travels to the immortal world, this time you're not arriving via portkey. Instead, a somewhat bleary eyed Dad waves you goodbye at the train-station, with you settling in for a three hour journey north. You'll be changing in Newcastle, and someone should be out to meet you in a town called Morpeth. Unfortunately there are no coupes, so Rex has to stay nestled in your backpack next to your toiletries and a couple changes of clothes. Still, the ride is uneventful, and by late morning you arrive with no complications.

Thankfully it's not difficult to pick out your chaperone. A young man in either his late teens or early twenties dressed in hiking gear stands on the platform, and a quick peek confirms that his Qi is very much awake and present. Cautiously, you make your way over.

"Hi?"

The man gives you a disarming smile. "You must be the young mistress. This one is Albert Brocklehurst. Shall we?"

You fall in step next to him as he leads you to a small gate in the back fence, which opens to an overgrown park path lined with wild daffodils. For your benefit, Albert continues to narrate. "Don't worry, we needn't walk for long. Just a few bends until we're safely out of sight. Have you ever travelled via apparition?"

"I understand that it's a more advanced version of portkeying."

"Your knowledge gives you credit, but unfortunately I'm not quite as talented as what Hogwarts would have produced for you. My style is called the Seven League Step technique, and I hope you aren't afraid of heights or tight spaces, even if it'll only take a moment."

"I'm not," you confirm, "is there anything I need to do?"

He casts about, and once he's satisfied that no one is nearby, offers you his elbow. "Merely hang on."

As soon as you grip his sleeve, the world rushes away below you, as if you were getting sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. What feels like bark is pressed against you on all sides, and your breath catches in your throat. Ground blurs, urban roofs replaced by meadows and then forests. You'd look up, but the feeling of motion in your inner ear forcibly brings your concentration back to your feet, as if you were running at breakneck pace over rough terrain. Thankfully, just as suddenly as the experience started, it ends. You stumble and gasp for breath.

"My apologies for any inconvenience, young mistress. It can be easy to let standards slip when you need to be your own overseer. I shall endeavor to refine my proficiency for the future."

"It's no- no trouble," you make sure you're not still dashing forward, and take in your surroundings, letting the clearly mystical air wash over your skin. While your issues with mortal Qi have found some outlet from wearing down your mind, the effect itself is still very much real, so it does you good to stretch-shrink-tighten-relax your metaphorical muscles.

If the Greengrass manor was a place of metal Qi, every element carefully placed and cultivated to perfection, then the little village before you now is almost a polar opposite. You stand on top of a low valley, on the edge of a copse of elms, with log cabins dotted on the slope and between impossibly humongous trees. In the valley below, the forest gives way to a fen, little ponds dotted between reeds and mosses. Your eyes are drawn to a dragonfly, which must be the size of a horse, as it perches on a beech sapling, bending the young tree precariously low.

"Mandy!" someone 'shouts' from the canopy, and you place the familiar tone with your sixth sense.

"I leave you in the care of junior cousin, young mistress," your escort gives a shallow bow, subtly angled towards one of the cabins. You return the courtesy just before the door creaks open.

Mandy has always towered over you, both because of an earlier growth spurt as well as her build in general, but you could swear that she's shot up another handspan since you last saw her. Somehow you never ran into her at Hogwarts, likely because while you were dabbling in subjects you barely comprehended, so was she, except what's hard for her is rather behind you.

"Billy, don't do it!"

Some things change, but others stay the same. You barely have time to spot the little monkey hanging by his tail on a branch far above you before the creature unfurls his tail and drops. You could interfere and catch him with ease, but your friend has things in hand. Between one blink and the next she explodes into motion, a surge of Qi accompanying her mad dash to catch her suicidal familiar. From her speed both mental and physical, a small worry falls away from your heart - Mandy is finally in the second realm with you.

"During training, Billy, T-R-A-I-N-I-N-G!" she scolds in English, her intent carrying through with context, but not without it.

"You might want to specify that it's your training, not his."

With all the spiritual commotion, Rex has also woken up, and the top of your backpack springs open. A single tendril of moss hiding a furtive yellow glow peeks over your shoulder, appraising the situation.

"His training is learning human-speak," Mandy says with a growl, "which he very well knows. Hey, Rei."

"Hey, yourself," you manage to keep your face straight for a whole second of silence before your grin leaves your control and you rush over for a hug.

The plan for the weekend is hiking and camping. You circle the valley on the first day, foraging mushrooms and grilling them for a late lunch, Mandy showing off her two new techniques of incendio and aquamenti to great effect. Your own contribution of slicing and dicing the spoils is overshadowed by Rex who disappears for a few hours only to return with a load of berries stuck in his proverbial hair. You call it a day on the bank of a small stream, and dinner is fish stew, with Billy showing off his own hunting skills and delivering a bounty of mussels for carp bait.

The two of you hardly need a tent, and thankfully the skies are completely clear, even as the last red glow of the sun fades and a brilliant tapestry of shiny pearls reveals itself. The fire made of dried pinecones and sap-filled branches crackles merrily, throwing its own contribution of sparks up every once in a while, and you push yourself to paint each speck, while also adding some that are made purely of Qi. Mandy meanwhile has to guess which are real and which are your creations.

Still, eventually you fall into a content stupor.

"Hey, Rei, you asleep?"

"Mm?" your face is buried in Rex, but you shift to look at Mandy lying next to you, staring at the sky.

"How did you break through to the Qi Condensation realm?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's about harmony and understanding, right? What did it take you to break through?"

"I pushed myself pretty hard in April, and almost messed up, cycling all five types of Qi simultaneously before I really knew what those were. Elder Flitwick helped me out, and gave me some advice then. That I needed to form my own understanding of the elements. I get the feeling that this won't be the last time I'll need to do that, but they were all things I had sensed before."

Mandy is silent for a while, petting Billy who's curled up on her chest.

"That's for your third eye. Was that all it took for your breakthrough?"

"No," you admit, "it's sometimes hard to voice, but I think I simply acknowledged what Qi is."

Another silence descends as you gather your thoughts, but before you find the words, Mandy turns to you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry into personal subjects."

"It's not that," you shift around to lie on your back, looking up at the starry sky and the gently swaying sparse canopy. "See the stars way up there? Each one is a sun, full to brim with Qi and potential, incomprehensibly vast and beautiful in its own right. But to me, it's still just one little light in the sky. It's amazing when you think about it, but so is the leaf that's blocking my view of the big dipper right now. You could say it's just a leaf, but through Qi, it's also so much more. All of its past and future, how it could affect things, what impact it can have in my world is not so different from that of a star. When I just let go during meditation, I get this sense of wonder. I think that's what Qi is."

"Thank you."

Another branch cracks in the fire, sending up a fresh shower of sparks.

"How about you?"

Mandy sighs. "I wish I had a way with words like you do."

You remain silent.

"I used to think that Qi is what made us better people. That we cultivate so we could do more. We - my clan I mean - maintain and slowly grow this valley and the surrounding lands not just for ourselves, but for future generations, and the spirits who live here. But we don't actually need Qi to do that. I have cousins who have done more for this place than I would in ten of my lifetimes, and they never even got invited to Hogwarts. But on the other hand, it's harder and harder to keep this place growing. My father had to step into mortal business just to stop the creation of a road that would cut down the Leamwood, all for the sake of a twenty minute shortcut. He spent all year on that, because he chose not to use Qi, and I don't really understand why he did that."

She stops herself, Billy's tail twitching around in his sleep breaking her train of thought. When the little monkey calms down, she continues. "I don't think that Qi is might either, don't get me wrong. I went to Elder Flitwick right before my breakthrough attempt. He told me that sometimes doubting our convictions is an enlightenment unto itself. He was clearly right, but it still doesn't sit well with me that I don't have an answer... Sorry, it's just something that's been on my mind. I'll meditate on what you've told me."

"Right back at you," you shoot her a small smile, and even out your breathing as the last embers slowly grow dimmer and night claims you.

---

The last week of summer sees you cutting back your training schedule to the bare minimum, because you have a more important project to tackle. It's time to bring an artwork of yours truly to life.

The simple silver locket you bought during your shopping trip shall play a central role, but you also make sure to sharpen the bristles of your Rainbow Brush to a fine point and get a proper fixture stand and a magnifying glass from the local crafts store. You'll be working in miniature, and there's really only one subject that fits: Dad.

The notes you once promised to return to the younger Creevey brother see daylight again as you go over every detail you can hope to understand. If there's one thing you've learned, it's that you need an intimate understanding of what you're trying to bring to life, and Dad is head and shoulders above any other candidate. You know his little ticks and quirks, you know his expressions, his voice and his reactions. You know about the singular grey hair behind his left ear, you know about the little crease of concentration hidden by his right eyebrow. In short, there is no subject you could possibly know better, nor any other that you'd wish to wear around your neck.

It's simple enough to relocate your evening hangout from your room to the living room, and Dad works with the door to his own bedroom open, providing you with a perfect view of him in profile.

Painting the background is simple: a corner of a bookcase and the familiar pastel floral print of your home's wallpaper. Each groove and scuff, each mark left by his existence gets imprinted on the sheet of paper that shall form the static background. With your knowledge of the various aspects that go into what any one object is you do your level best to imprint the feeling of home into the art. Of the books you know are contained on the shelf, of the vague memories you have of getting scolded for scrawling on the wall, thankfully with pencils not markers. It has to be a room where Dad could be, and to you, that means home, even if it's just a fake panel of oak over sawdust and the wallpaper is faded from age, not marbled walls and ebony furniture.

That forms the first, base layer of the locket, but the next work is even more delicate. On a glass wafer so thin you doubt mortal hands were involved in crafting it, you'll paint the image of your father. A kind-hearted, withdrawn man with love for you that knows no bounds. A picture of Jonathan Young, who sometimes lacks drive but never hesitates to move mountains when he cares, and who always cares for the right things. A picture of Dad, with all his flaws and his infinite awesomeness.

The quality of your picture is beyond reproach, of course. If you dedicate your full attention to a single detail then false humility aside, creating a lifelike depiction is never in question. But there's more that goes into your work. Mystic power flows from you until the apartment is filled to bursting and beyond. Carefully, so as to not disturb him, you coax out Dad's Qi to join yours. It's a wild, unrefined thing, clearly not belonging to a cultivator, but no less defining for it, the energy of a living, breathing person. You use it to paint in feelings, your brush never stopping or wavering as it barely touches the unconventional canvas, taking samples from the very air around the open pot of paint it's nominally linked with.

On the fourth day, as you're adding hints of his love for the smell of dark tea under his nose, the image scrunches his nose, irritated by the fine hairs of your brush. You almost mess up the whole project in surprised elation, but thankfully manage to pull back rather than push on, shattering the glass. From there, you're forced to slow down even further, as the picture slowly gains an awareness of your actions adding to it. Still, on the last day of August, you're forced to concede that nothing else strictly needs to be added. The wafer joins the background in the locket and a thicker layer of protective glass locks the artwork in, your Dad smiling back at you. With a final click - and an immense feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment - you close the jewelry and make sure all your necessary possessions are packed away for your imminent return to Hogwarts.

The very next morning, with Dad suppressing yawns even more often than usually, you give him one last hug and shred your ticket to platform nine and three quarters.

---

• Pick 3 to 5 training actions, you may pick the same one multiple times:

• Optional point expenditure (you have 0 points):

• Optional technique application:

• 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:

• Due to your knowledge of potential future events, you may choose one of the pools below to apply to your social rolls. Rolls are applied in descending order to respectively less popular social action choices:

Please place training actions 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.