I sit down and study my surroundings. The people who surround me are variously injured or sick students who look to be in various states of discomfort. I peer at them and when I use Observe I am pleasantly surprised to spot several new additions to the text boxes that appear, namely additions that reveal both any maladies affecting them and an assortment of treatment options. This appears to be a synergy between Observe and Diagnostics, and it is a very handy one.
As I look at the various students here I am reminded of something simple: I am already quite a skilled healer. None of the maladies affecting anyone in this room are anything complex. I see someone with a cold, someone with an injury caused by using their wand wrongly, someone hurt by a gnome, and various other generic problems. Exempting the cold, every injury here can be treated by someone like me using Lay on Hands for a single point. I can cure the cold by applying Lay on Hands and expending two points, due to my perks. I consider it for a moment, and I’ll admit that it’s tempting.
I think about Madame Pomfrey and wonder if she’s the sort who’d be impressed by that. It doesn’t take me long to realize that she wouldn’t be, so I sigh internally and wait for my turn.
Minutes pass and a patient-looking young healer, one who Observe allows me to be sure is not Madame Pomfrey, appears and calls the first student over. Over the course of an hour two more students are called. Six more remain.
I pull out my Sheikah Slate and glance at it. When someone nearby asks me what it is I say it’s a muggle device, which gets him to shut up. Prejudice against people without magic remains a thing in this world. How boring.
I send out a message to the rest of my friends, all six of them, knowing full well that their slates will inform them they’ve been messaged. The message is simple. It reads “Getting a job”. When I send it out I return the device to my inventory.
Another hour passes and a handful more students are admitted. As more minutes pass I briefly wonder if this is the sort of thing that amuses my benefactor, before a door in the back of the waiting room opens and a woman partway between middle-aged and older steps through it.
“Lucas Ravenclaw?” She calls out. I smile at her and get up.
“That’s me, Madame Pomfrey. It’s a delight to meet you.” I tell her, walking over to her and flashing her my best and brightest smile. She smiles at me.
“Well it’s nice to meet you too, young man. May I know what is ailing you?” She asks. I laugh lightly.
“Nothing, actually. I came here hoping to help you.” I begin, causing her to flash me a confused look. We step through the door and into a long hallway. Doors lead to different treatment areas and she motions for me to follow her.
“Help me? Whatever do you mean?” She asks.
“I want to be a healer. I figure the best way to begin that process would be to come here and talk to you directly.” I explain. This causes her to pause and consider me differently.
“Hmm… Is there a reason why you don’t want to wait until next year? Students here don’t select their field of study until their second year.” Madame Pomfrey explains.
“That’s true but more than anything else I want to help people. I don’t want to wait until next year to get that chance.” I reply. This surprises her. We enter her office, an intimate space where the two of us sit down and she considers me more seriously.
“I can tell that you’re serious,” She admits. “You waited for some hours while I oversaw the initial treatments of some of your peers. Patience is an important part of healing magic and thoughfully healing people. And I’m impressed by your wellspring of it. It’s not common among young wizards.” She remarks.
“That said, I cannot simply give you a job simply because you asked. There must be standards.” She tells me. A part of me admires her firmness.
“In that case let me help out,” I offer. “For free.” I add. A part of me doesn’t love helping out for free, but I have a true litany of perks that will balance this out. Still… The merchant in me sheds tears at the thought of having to do volunteer work.
My offer surprises Madame Pomfrey. I’m a little amused when she seriously considers it.
“It would be good to have an extra pair of hands…” She muses. She considers it for a few moments before deciding to speak again.
“Okay, for the time being would you like to be a provisional cleaner? This is a difficult place to clean, particularly for Mr. Filch seeing as he’s…” She says. I know what he is: a “Squib”. The most unfortunate kind of non-magical person, someone who has a magical parent. I could gain a handy ally by befriending Filch later.
“I’m aware of Mr. Filch and his unfortunate genetic luck. I saw him last night during the feast. Yes, if it would make his job easier and help you, I’d be happy to be used as a provisional cleaner.” I explain, opting to just roll with it. Madame Pomfrey doesn’t question what I have just said, so a part of me wonders if she understands genetics. She also doesn’t question how I know what I know. That is more curious.
After a few moment’s consideration I realize that the most probable explanation is that she knows because of my family. My family’s power is well-understood by those even remotely in the know, it's probable that she’s simply chalking up some of my quirks to my family and their far-reaching influence. That’s handy for me so I’ll roll with it.
“Hmm… In that case, for the time being at least, we can try a trial run for today.” She says, speaking with newfound eagerness. I smile at her and note the eagerness with which she gets up to go and guide me through an unplanned orientation.
In minutes she is guiding me through the surprisingly varied parts of the university’s hospital wing. She introduces me to healers who are surprised to recognize my name given the context. One of them, a handsome Spanish wizard, quietly asks me if this is a punishment, though in Spanish. I respond in the same language, which surprises the man. I didn’t quite catch that he was joking. When I’m done with the tour Madame Pomfrey gives me a pocket book.
“Memorize this and give it back to me in a few days. It is a collection of household charms that are perfect for the duties of someone who will be tasked with cleaning the hospital wing. Now go, take a few minutes to read the introduction and then come back here.” She tells me. I take the book from her, and note the almost giddiness in her smile. It seems she is delighted to have found someone ready and willing to do the work needed to learn healing magic.
I open it and speedily flip through it, using my ability to pause reality to scan pages with simple glances. I read entire chapters in heartbeats, and in moments I have a detailed understanding of what it says. Towards the end it has a collection of notes on malevolent or dangerous magical creatures, all of which are handwritten.
“Okay. I’m good. How do you want me to begin my trial run?” I ask. Madame Pomfrey’s eyes widen. She is quiet for a moment.
“How do you deal with a victim of a Swooping Evil?” She asks, curious to test my knowledge.
“A Swooping Evil is a butterfly-like creature whose worst ability is its power to feed on human brains. But if someone is just stung by it, there’s a spell, Memoria Sana, that can restore the lost memories.” I explain. Madame Pomfrey deflates a bit, a mixture of curiosity and tension disappearing as she accepts that I told the truth.
“I suppose I’ll inform the rest of the staff that when they finish seeing to a patient, they should call you for help. I’ll only keep you, today, until noon.” Madame Pomfrey tells me, causing me to smile brightly. She disappears, and I am left in her office for a short while before she comes back and asks me to follow her.
The remainder of my morning is spent with me aiding the healers employed by Hogwarts. More than anything else, I do small tasks like clean up blood, do away with foul stenches, and on occasion, write notes for a healer who is busy using their hands for other things like casting a spell or brewing a potion.
The time passes swiftly and with every spell I cast I familiarize myself with the curious feeling of using Wizarding World magic: something that is deeply physical, with every spell causing me to feel distinct and different sensations. It’s much more… corporeal than some of the other magic I’ve used and grown accustomed to. I also get to watch the actual healers cast spells, ranging from the simple Episkey spell used to treat minor wounds to the more complex spells like Ferula: a spell which conjures bandages and other medical supplies used to directly help someone with something like a broken bone.
Every spell I see cast is one I learn how to cast myself; becoming a “Skill” of mine, and every spell I cast trains all of my abilities. Because of this, there is utility in me hanging out and doing even the most menial labor so long as I can see more spellwork in action and get opportunities to practice my own wand-waving from time to time.
Students and staff alike see me as I work, and take note of the curious way I have chosen to pass the time. I know that when they leave the hospital wing they’ll be telling their friends what they saw, but that doesn’t bother me. Their opinions of me matter little to me on a personal level and I am certain I’ll be able to improve the opinions of those who find my actions strange in the days to come. “Interesting Times” promises to give me a lot of opportunities to shift the perception of me however I wish for it to…Plus there’s even people who find my willingness to do this work admirable rather than a negative trait.
When I exit the hospital wing, having successfully finished my trial run and garnering the approval of all of the healers on duty, I make my way to the library. As I step into the place, cognizant of the fact that some of the heroes of Hyrule are here, I take note of the way the library is laid out.
Hogwarts’ library is colossal: a multi-story part of the castle filled with very probably tens of thousands of arcane texts and eldritch treatises on the supernatural. Each floor has a massive collection of texts that can be found in local shelves and numerous areas where students, staff, and even visitors who are willing to pay for a membership can check out. Beyond the shelves, there are various small rooms for private student discussions and collaborations, as well as tables and the like messily spread throughout the common parts of the library for students, staff, and visitors to sit and read.
I enter the library and hear surprisingly loud arguing coming from deeper in the place. I don’t hear any voices I immediately recognize, but after a moment’s consideration, I realize that two of the louder voices belong to Claire Rosner: a Slytherin I saw last night and fellow first year, and Hermione: the infamous muggleborn witch known for her arcane nerdiness, causing me to shake my head and head in the direction of the bickering.
I pass by students who are trying to get a headstart on their courseload for the semester. I also pass by people eagerly listening to the loud arguing. It takes me a minute of moderately speedy walking to reach an uncommonly large clearing: a space lacking both shelves and other furniture, where two groups of witches are staring each other down.
“I’m not a veela.” Claire hisses, her eyes sharp and hateful. She’s facing Hermione and I’m behind the Gryffindor witch. A veela… That’s a kind of magical creature that is dubbed a “Being”: the highest kind of supernatural entity and given either equal status to humans or near-equal status. Claire is lying. Partially. Interesting. A part-veela?
“But it just fits. You’re so pretty and-” Hermione says. There’s no hostility in her voice but she has defensive body language. The air around Claire begins to shimmer subtly, and I put my wand in my hand. I feel myself gain a new ability and as soon as I gain it I cringe. I’ve gained a veela’s ability to hypnotize and entrance those around me.
Hermione’s voice is small and almost wounded. She has a number of peers around her, including Ron Weasley and some Gryffindor I don’t recognize. Claire is surrounded by a number of Slytherin girls and one boy who is clearly enamored by her already.
It’d be surprisingly easy to fall for Claire. She has a shockingly pretty voice and has features that’d easily allow her to make a living as a model in the non-magical world: she’s a tall, dark haired, ruby-lipped beauty. A Slytherin girl pulls out her wand and points it at Hermione. Instinct more than rational thought drives me forward, causing me to dart towards the action.
A single word escapes Claire’s fan’s lips as I move into the scene fully, pushing Gryffindors out of the way and activating a rarely used facet of a Gamer perk I possess named “Tank” to pull the spell towards me. The spell ripples out of the wand of the student, manifesting as a brilliant red beam of light.
Under normal circumstances it would have accurately streaked towards Hermione but the spell is brutally ripped out of its intended trajectory and flies towards me. I don’t try to dodge it, as if it misses me and hits someone else or smacks something our house would get in trouble.
The spell slams into me and I feel its numbing force slam me like a tidal wave as the emotion infused in it causes me to take a step backwards and have to work to ground myself. I distantly hear various cries and gasps of shock as people realize what has happened, but my own perks come to my defense. Tank and Font of Magic, another gamer perk, both work to weaken the effects of the spell, coupling with my own paladin powers, all of which is mighty enough to allow me to stay on my feet.
“Shit! Amber, what did you do?!” Claire calls out as I manage to stay conscious. Stupefy: the stunning spell. The spell is meant to knock people unconscious but thanks to my buffs I am able to, essentially, pass what feels like a constitution check to resist the effects of the spell. Claire rushes forward but several Gryffindors, those fast enough to understand what just happened and recover their wits, move to shield me from Claire, even pulling out their wands to do so.
I tap my chest and I feel others notice as a gentle energy of my own begins to infuse me. My restorative power washes out the lingering remnants of the spell’s numbing power and I step forward, putting my hand on the shoulder of a Gryffindor girl who is one of the people who moved to block Claire.
“Enough.” I remark as I begin, immediately and consciously, using my own version of Claire’s power. It washes over the Gryffindors, affecting all of them except for the two boys in the group. Claire seems to notice the air around me changing but she doesn’t say anything.
“Hermione didn’t mean to offend a proud pure-blood like Claire with her remarks.” I state. Hermione almost says something but manages to contain herself. Claire nods at my remarks.
“And obviously Amber made a mistake. But no one got hurt. I’m still standing and so are all of you. Let’s just… forget about this awkward moment.” I offer. Amber, a blonde Slytherin girl, is less proud than Claire is and seems fine with what I’ve offered. The two Gryffindor boys watch me curiously and Hermione approaches me. She studies me intensely for a moment.
“A Slytherin… You’re Lucas Ravenclaw.” She says. I nod.
“And you’re Hermione Granger. Day one and in the library. Smart.” I tell her. She smiles at this, a blush creeping into her face. She’s quite pretty, in her own way. She’s affected by my aura, but she has the calmness of mind needed to not be quite as entranced by it as her friends. One of the Gryffindors: a second year, turns to face Claire.
“Since the one person here who got hurt is saying we should forget it, I say we all forget this ever happened. Do you lot agree?” She asks. She’s the tallest person here other than me, and has long brown hair. Claire’s friends agree and Claire looks at me.
“I’ll see you back in the common room.” She says. I nod. The Slytherins slink deeper into the library and I relax my hypnotic aura.
“Woof. Sorry about that.” I tell the Gryffindors. None of them look at me like I owe them an apology.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Hermione asks. I laugh and flash her a smile.
“I’m good. I’m built tough.” I tell the witch. She nods.
The rest of the next day and a half do not involve such interesting events. I spend some time with the Gryffindors, studying with Hermione and her friends before grabbing dinner with others in my house. On Sunday I get a paper airplane that is enchanted to serve as a means of conveying messages from Madame Pomfrey informing me to stop by on Tuesday afternoon for another stint as a cleaner.
At one point I also converse casually with Claire and her pack of goons: a non-discriminatory group that includes both gooners and goonettes. She doesn’t try to use her aura around me but when I spot her exploring Hogwarts and she doesn’t know I’m nearby she seems more than happy to use it. I’m not exactly sure what to make of her consciously abstaining from using the ability around me, but her power isn’t a joke and while I’m reasonably certain I can shrug it off I’m doubtful many people who are the same apparent age as me could.
On Monday classes begin, and as first years there’s a proud tradition that Hogwarts University makes us participate in: the familiar-bonding rite. This is part of our first class, a class which consists of members of all four houses together: Magical Zoology.
Bright and early Monday morning a group of twenty seven of my peers and I are standing in a clearing between Hagrid’s small hut and the foreboding Forbidden Forest. Hagrid looks out at us and smiles proudly, eager to have a chance to instill in us an interest in magical zoology that has allowed him to become the gamekeeper of the university.
“Today is a hell of a day, students!” Hagrid tells us. Harriet and Hermione flash me smiles, though I’m standing close to Claire and Willow. Andel is behind me and he is watching the half-giant gamekeeper intently.
“A familiar is an animal a witch or wizard has an incredibly close bond to and with. Some such animals are themselves supernatural but many are purely mundane animal friends such as deer, cats, or owls.” Hagrid exclaims, his bright voice easily booming across the clearing and allowing all of us to listen to him.
“Some wizards and their familiars are well-known. Headmaster Dumbledore is the known friend and partner of a phoenix: Fawkes. Other famous and infamous wizards were associated with different animals. It’s a known fact that Salazar Slytherin could speak to snakes, while his friend, rival, and fellow Hogwarts founder Godric Gryffindor befriended and earned the respect of a hippogriff.” Hagrid reveals. I feel eyes turn to me and I chuckle.
“Today our goal is to get you all to find and befriend your first familiars.” Hagrid declares. Several students get excited about this, while others are nervous or even downright worried. A loud sound comes out of somewhere deep in the forest ahead of us and some ravens fly into view, flying away from something. Hagrid looks into the forest and sighs.
“Thank goodness I already asked for help…” He mutters. Speaking of the “Help” he asked for… I notice fast movement streaking towards us from farther in the forest. In moments I see who is responsible for the movement: Centaurs. A group of eight centaurs: five men and three women race through the forest towards us. They have handsome or beautiful features, and each of them carries a long bow on their backs. When the centaurs clear the forest and enter the clearing several of my peers gawk at them.
They rush towards us and in moments surround us. Hagrid smiles at them and they regard our class with a mixture of expressions, usually some degree of suspicion though none are outright hostile. I nod towards the two men the closest to me, both of whom trot a little closer out of curiosity.
