Chapter 47. Summer Holidays 2/2
The day of our trip came fairly quickly. It all started with Sirius picking up Harry on July 31st, and we celebrated a triple birthday, to which the Tonks family and the Headmaster were invited. The Tonkses came as family, and Dumbledore as our mentor. After all, our relationship with him is no longer just "headmaster and students." And in the future it's quite possible that he'll know several times more about our plans than Hermione does.
And, to be honest, watching that old man during the party, for a moment it even seemed to us that it wasn't our celebration at all, but his. His expression was far too joyful, although, if you think about it—he's a lonely old man whose only brother hates him—then maybe our invitation really was extremely pleasant for him.
The party itself went quite nicely. The table was laid with our favorite dishes. And first and foremost, of course, there was a lot of meat, and for Harry this day was simply the best birthday of his life. The only snag was that we had to rack our brains a bit over what to give him. After all, it's kind of silly to give money to someone who already has a hefty inheritance. So we decided to get him something useful and settled on a pendant that could protect against minor curses. As for us, we also ended up with a pile of gifts. From Hermione we got an old French book dedicated to magical fencing, where wizards either used a sword paired with a wand or only a sword to cast spells and for surprise attacks in close combat. Maybe not the most practical reading, but it clearly showed that she really knows us well. After all, we can quite readily admit that we sometimes sacrifice efficiency for the sake of our hobbies. Just like with ice magic: with Dumbledore as our mentor, we would have mastered fire magic much faster, and progressed more quickly in other disciplines as well. But if you don't follow your own interests, what are the chances we wouldn't just burn out at the pace we're keeping?
Most of the other presents were basically just pleasant trinkets, with the possible exception of Dumbledore's gift.
What would most people's reaction be if they were given, for their birthday, a human-skull hookah with the inscription "for the greater good" in German? Shocked, probably? We too were, to put it mildly, stunned—until he explained the point.
It was the skull Grindelwald had used to make prophecies easier and to visualize them for others. Normally, as is the case for us, visions come spontaneously; deliberately calling them up is harder than you'd like. And thanks to this artifact, we'd be able to enter a trance at will.
Naturally, he also warned us that no one must see this artifact, because even putting aside how strong many people's hatred is for the instigator of the global magical war that ran parallel to World War II, this artifact is still a Dark magical object involving necromancy. And when he finished the explanation, he half‑jokingly reminded us not to overdo it with using it. We only understood why when he presented us with a mini‑instruction manual.
The headmaster of a school gave two students a Dark artifact that runs on weed. No wonder people so often wonder just what kind of hardcore stuff this great Light wizard is smoking…
Naturally, despite everything, the first thing we did—under the Headmaster's supervision—was try out our new toy, with one specific goal in mind: to attempt to glimpse what would happen to us in a year, during which we hope to perform our first ritual.
Pouring crushed powder into the skull, we attached what looked like a specially modified golden double hose for us, and then channeled mana into the skull. It immediately began to glow from within, and, following the instructions, we focused on what we wanted to see and inhaled the black smoke.
Our heads went fuzzy for a moment, images of the future began flashing rapidly before our eyes, and then we exhaled the smoke simultaneously. A few moments later it began to gather into a life‑sized image made of illusions.
We saw a boy and a girl talking to someone with satisfied expressions. Only, despite the features they shared with us, they were several years older, and unlike our hair, which is closer to golden, theirs was snow‑white, like freshly fallen snow, and their blue eyes seemed to be faintly glowing from within.
"Hm, interesting," Dumbledore murmured thoughtfully. "Tell me about it."
"It must be connected to the egg," we didn't try to hide it.
"Our body clearly isn't ready for magic of cold as strong as that of the rapiers made for us, or for that spell, so we want to use the egg to graft the nature of ice phoenixes onto ourselves," we said, not taking our eyes off the image; it was genuinely pleasant to look at the result we're striving for.
"I see… Let me take a look at the ritual you've found later. It's possible my help will be necessary."
"Headmaster, we don't quite understand why we look older in this prophecy. It was only supposed to be a year from now, wasn't it, or did we do something wrong?"
"Everything is fine, it's just that I am a busy man, and so you and I will use an interesting little trick to increase the time available for lessons."
"You want to use a Time‑Turner?!" we exclaimed.
"Correct. It won't be a problem for you that you'll outpace your peers in age, will it?"
"No, that really won't be a problem," we agreed easily. "In fact, more time to prepare for Voldy's return is actually a good thing."
"Voldy?" the Headmaster chuckled, hearing for the first time how we sometimes refer to Britain's bogeyman‑in‑chief. "I'm glad you don't feel fear before him, but you shouldn't underestimate him either."
"Believe us, Headmaster, we won't underestimate him," we replied seriously, remembering all too well how even just Quirrell was able to overpower the two of us with ease.
After that, we spent almost the rest of the holidays in America. We visited many interesting places, from movie theaters and restaurants to Disneyland and the beach. It was, arguably, a truly pleasant vacation, during which even the Headmaster insisted it would be better for us simply to rest. Although, the fact that we found a gunsmith who taught us how to shoot a sniper rifle, and we even managed to buy one along with ammunition, can also be called "rest," right? Rest that will, in the future, end very badly for one blondie.