25 Harry Potter : Chapter 25: Moonlit Dinner II

I kept Apparating south until I found a stretch of sea, sadly, having to rely on sight in order to obtain a target for my apparition meant that while on the plains, Earth's curvature stopped me from seeing further than 5 kilometers ahead. 

I hope I soon spot some mountains, so I can jump over the plains.

...

The plan was to Apparate south in short bursts until I reached Bristol's Canal. from there, south again until I met the sea, that I would then keep on my right until Dover. From there, I hoped to be able to Apparate directly in France, otherwise, a small boat would need to be temporarily requisitioned.

I would set up a small base of sorts on the south of England, and another a few kilometers within French inland. My itinerary was based on my rough geography skills, something that I had to study as a child, but that I guessed wouldn't help me too much right now.

It would be easier to simply apparate back to London and then go south from there, but I don't know how the Ministry tracking works. 

I entertained for an instant the idea of infiltrating the ministry and steal myself something interesting instead of simply traveling south, but there would be time for many heists, for the time being, I was ready to travel, and travel I would.

Once in France, I would go south-south-east full throttle, hopefully reaching the Mediterranean Sea that I would keep on my right until I reached Italy. Then I would move a bit North, always directed towards East, until I spotted the Alps.

I would then travel along their length, because I had no interest whatsoever in sightseeing a fascist Italy, until I spotted the Adriatic Sea. Once there, I would simply travel across current Yugoslavia until I reached Albania.

There I would need to look for a forest, in that forest I would need to find a hollow tree, which held Ravenclaw's diadem.

Admittedly, the chances of finding the Diadem with a single attempt were slim.

Yeah, it's a fucking long trip. I admitted to myself that it was unlikely that I would be able to do much with less than 10 days before I had to turn back, but at least it would give me the occasion of setting up something to help my summer's travels, and admittedly, staying into a castle for most of my time was making me go a bit stir-crazy. 

At least from the top of the Mont Blanc, I should able to hop cleanly across Italy: from there the view must be breathtaking.

One day I would snoop around the magical district of the cities I crossed, no doubt, but I was somewhat pressed for time.

While I had your everyday Joe's historical knowledge, I wasn't aware of the movements of wizardkind across Europe, and being spotted as one Rubeus Hagrid, on my own, camouflaging as an adult, would have raised much more questions that I would be comfortable answering to.

I also had to stick to the countryside, moving fast enough so that I wouldn't be gunned down by an eventual sniper.

...

The sights were interesting enough... the first time I saw them. Without music, without company, without even being drunk because I kind of needed to be sober in order to be sure that I wouldn't kill myself by Apparating inside of a boulder, my travel quickly evolved from an exciting exploration to a bullheaded march across England.

At the end of the third day, I was walking at a brisk pace across the french countryside, my ears peeled as my eyes were in order to spot an eventual group of trigger-happy soldiers.

Being able to Apparate in a rough radius of five kilometers was enough to keep me from stumbling in a potentially deadly situation, and while I was less enthusiastic than I had been when I left my home, I could see myself traveling across the world during the next summer.

The wind whipped harshly across the land, the grey clouds that hid the sky were bloated with water that they didn't want yet to relinquish, and yet the full moon managed to peek through from time to time, while the trees seemed to be whispering among themselves, rustling as if they knew that a storm was about to break the tense air of the cold December.

Seeing that the sun was almost completely set, and the moon already had begunu her climb in the sky, I apparated to the nearest woods, where I quickly moved a few hundred meters behind the treeline in order to set up a stable camp.

"Might as well set up something half permanent, I could hop here with just five or six jumps next summer."

I hummed to myself as I unsheathed my wand, relishing in the warmth that traveled eagerly across my body as I started casting. Transfiguration changed the Shape of things, that was what my very first lesson with Dumbledore explained to me.

But Shape was a multitude of details, it went from the material to the form, generally whispering 'fuck you' to anything even remotely related to the Law of Conservation of Mass.

Simply changing the form of something wasn't all that hard at the end of the day.

It was one of the reasons why Minerva had been able to mold the stones necessary to wall off the Rùnda from the rest of the castle, and my potion has simply brought the stone together, reminding them of their common origins, of the countless years spent huddled together in the dark under the Black Lake, bearing the weight of the water above them.

But, even if I lacked Minerva's talent or amount of practice when it came to Transfiguration, I could cheat.

Following the small routine that I had thought exactly for these circumstances, I weaved my magic.

Powerful summoning and levitation spells uprooted small trees, quickly cleaning up a small clearing, before gouging charms violently tore the earth in a rough square.

After a series of floating charms, I pulled and pushed the uprooted trees into their new bases in the ground, before fishing in one of my pockets a vial that revealed a shining leafy green potion inside. One that I hoped wouldn't backfire spectacularly when I used it.

I walked in the inner perimeter of the 6x6 meters square I had cordoned off with the selection of birch trees that I had placed all around, stabbing the white bark of each of them until I spotted the rasin inside, sluggish because of the winter.

Between each tree, I let fall three drops of the bright green concoction, and I had to jump back after I moved the earth back to cover the roots of the trees.

Just like Slughorn's first example of magic, I had managed to create a variation of a potion that strongly agreed with just any form of greenery. When used on a seed it would bring out a plant of respectable dimensions.

Only, I had added some shavings of Devil's Snare, with Nightglory Blossoms in order to stave off the plant's need for darkness.

After all, it wouldn't do for my new abode to come undone each time the trees went into the nightly phases of their metabolism.

Soon enough, a thick succession of intertwining, twisting white vines sprouted from the ground, curling around each trunk before throwing themselves one against another, quickly binding themselves together as if they had spent years being tended to by an expert gardener.

The happy-go-lucky vines' activity slowed down and eventually stopped just as it reached the start of the Birch trees' canopy, which remained without leaves, stretching itself towards a still heavy clouded sky.

Once the vines had settled, they started to sprout Birch leaves, blending in with the trees that made the pillars of the structure I had just created.

"Now, floor, roof and entrance." I remembered myself as I felt the first drops of rainfall over my hooded head, "Then wards, just to be sure."

The magic of my potion had revived the Birch trees, that now seemed to stretch hungrily towards the sky, eager to drink in order to get started with their newly improved metabolism:

"Yeah, winters will hold you asleep no more."

I pointed my wand at the leafless canopy over my head, and abused yet another charm that had no business whatsoever with working in this situation: "Nodo."

Using to make knots, the Nodo charm was standardized to work on strings, ropes, and even laces. Never before it had been used on branches, and yet, shaped and directed by my understanding of the concept of binding together, and aided by the intertwining nature of the potion that was powering the renewal of the Birch trees around me, it worked.

The branches stretched one over another, almost like crossed fingers, or hands joining together.

Soon, I found myself in the dark, isolated from the rest of the forest. A quick Lumos solved my problem.

I turned on myself brandishing my wand in a circular motion reminiscent of the cutting charm, and just like that, the leaves that had grown on this side of the vines fell to the ground, quickly covering the entirety of my abode under the precise direction of my practiced wand motions.

Another small trasnfiguration turned the vibrant green leaves in ceramic tiles that neatly covered the floor, leaving a single circle were I levitated some rocks in order to create a small firepit.

Lastly, I picked up a branch, hollowing it out and transfiguring it into the same steel I had grown to know thanks to the matchstick-to-needle lesson, with another levitaion and sticking charm, I had a chimney.

I finally walked towards a couple of trunks that I had knowingly set a bit furhter apart from one another, I cut off an opening that led me in the small clearing where my newest abode was, and the last transfiguration of the day provided me with a door.

Finally, I stepped outside, taking a critical look at my handiwork: where before there had been yet another stretch of the woods, there was now a small clearing, with box-ish hedges of white wood and vibrant green leaves that clearly defined my base.

From the green canopy that had no business being so lively in winter, a steely chimney pocked out, a faint trail of smoke quickly disappearing in the cold air.

"Now, to the concealment charms." I muttered to myself while I walked a large circle at the edge of the clearing.

Aside from a few specific charms that were still beyond my reach, mostly beacuse I hadn't practiced them enough, I had a singularly good understanding of the idea of concealment, thanks to the Metamorphosis ritual that I had performed in the summer.

And said understanding came to me swiftly when I pulled on it, using the local nature of the birch trees to blur the difference between my creation and the rest of the woods.

It wasn't something targeted to either muggles or wizards, and there weren't words to reinforce the symbolism.

It wasn't something that I had read around, but very much like I had shaped the flames in the fireplace during my first year, my understanding and practice was enough to allow me to conceal the abode.

I could have attempted the more standard Fianto Duri, but from my reading, I had come to understand that a Shield would work better when blatant, and it would conflict, if only marginally, with the purpose of the concealment ward.

My ward wasn't about withstanding an attack, wasn't about defiance and impossible resistance, it was more oblique.

The two were similar in the sense that both were targeted towards outsiders, but where the Shield spells were almost a banner that openly held back the enemy, my Concealment Ward simply slid away from the attention of any that came close.

There wasn't a shield in my wards because there was nothing to protect.

While I knew that something existed, just beyond the shadows and under the green leaves, it was something unimportant, something that didn't need defense, and something that didn't deserve anyone's attention.

Once I was done, I used the sequence of painfully tedious charms to set up a small bathroom inside of the shack, made use of it, and set myself to sleep on a hammock that stretched just aside from the firepit.

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