–– Clara POV ––
This years break was more boring than the last ones. I still barely left my room, this year not occupied with practicing but cultivation instead.
For the first time since leaving, I entered my ring again, the eye of the storm still sapping away half my mana regeneration, sometimes even more, if I am already at half capacity, as the problem with my mana core only having half its capacity remained. This original mana core, not to mistaken with the mana cores of my cultivation technique, is the literal organ of my being handling mana and also the bride between my mana body and physical body to access all that extra mana storage. The mana cores of the cultivation technique are naturally based on the original mana core, though they were the bridge between external mana and internal mana, the mana body being needed to absorb any external mana in the first place, the original mana core not having that function. You could even say, that the original mana core of us humans is flawed in that way. But, humans have always innovated around their own limitations. It might take us centuries, but we will at some point in time find a way.
Back to my pocket dimension, which is anchored in my beautiful ring. The first things that hit me were silence and an abnormal amount of mana, gathered in the eye of the storm, which had expanded significantly since the last time. The problem was, that I could not really move in this type of environment currently, the sheer density of mana holding me in place. But I did not need to move. I only needed to be able to absorb the mana, which I could. Over the whole of summer break I did exactly that, slowly draining the accumulated mana, the eye of the storm shrinking ever so slowly. Through this, my cultivation shot up. Not with an impressive speed, some prodigies with specific cultivation techniques being able to clear a whole stage in mere hours, though that required expensive materials and very specific conditions like an eclipse for example.
After this, I know stood at common breathing, having caught up to Luna, though she did not have this amount of mana available, so it was nothing unexpected. I could have pushed far further, but I still wanted to consolidate my current rank, before beginning with the next one. Tedious? Yes, but it would all be worth it hopefully. Or I make a mistake and die.
After the break I returned to school, my privilege of staying there over the break being rescinded due to my retirement as teacher of the mastery class. Due to this, I could not skip the welcoming feast and also heard Dumbledore's announcement of a student exchange with Beauxbuttons. They would send a delegation of people for the first six months to Hogwarts, a delegation of us returning together with them to stay for the last six months of the school year. The rest were just guidelines for anyone who wanted to go to France, which I did not. I had only two plans for this year. Learn charms and transfiguration up to NEWT level, testing out of both classes and testing out of all other classes on OWL level, only minimal reading required.
If it was not for my little perfectionist vein, I would not even bother to get O's in all subjects, just doing the bare minimum. But even apart from that I knew, that I could not ignore the initial education like that. It just felt wrong and would probably have devastating consequences to my continued magical studies.
So I did exactly that, setting a timeframe of two months, only needing one month in the end, which meant that I no longer had any lessons, expect my potions mastery class. At nearly the same time, the delegation of Beauxbuttons arrived on a carriage drawn by beautiful abraxans, a relatively large breed of magical horses with wings. Similarly large was their headmistress, towering at the approximate same height than Hagrid, who immedietly, together with Luna, went to provide them with chin scratches and food, though they apparently liked whiskey the most, as madam Maxime informed. Their delegation was not any less impressive, housing at least two veela and a variety of interesting familiars, including a phoenix disguised as an owl, a magical cobra variant and even a nundu, though that one vanished from sight near instantly.
These visitors made the castle a bit more lively, especially the veela who could not control her charm, though only a rare few were affected by it, with Ron Weasly of all people leading the way, his occlumency severely lagging behind anyone else. I did not really meet the bunch much, primarily spending time in my potion laboratory, still working on stocks and compartmentalized potions after finishing Slughorn's syllabus for the whole year in near record breaking time, still a few steps behind Harry Potter, who was rapidly advancing towards being a grandmaster potioneer.
Until one day, when a small little figure busted into my laboratory, not even surveying the room, instantly darting into a dark corner, breaking down crying. I did not react much outwardly, only flinching a split second before refocusing on the current potion, barely able to stop an explosion from happening.
At that moment I was currently practicing the cure for boils potion with spelled fire, instead of using natural fire. This was more taxing on both mana and mind, needing constant nearly undivided attention. But through that I could probably refine my cure of boils stock even more, though the skill requirements for the recipe were not worth the changes from an economical standpoint of view. This potion, as always, was a good starting point for learning new material.
Then, for the next few hours I completely forgot about her, slowly refining my spellwork through both normal and dry practice. Right as I bottled another potion, she appeared right next to me, forcing me out of my near trance like state, observing the potion before saying: „Why make a cure for boils?" I just laughed, the idea of someone intruding into someone's laboratory before questioning their brewing decisions just that unreasonable. I just shot back: „Why this room?", which left her a little bit dumbfounded, before still explaining myself: „Cure for boils is just one of the beginner friendliest potions I know, so I can test out and perfect things on it, before moving to different, harder and more complex potions or you could just call it nostalgia for all I care".
I did not prod her anymore, one of the first lessons I had learned from Henry about such situations and started another cure for boils potion, ignoring her for that timeframe. After I had finished, I just heard: „Fascinating..", snapping out of my fixation,focusing on the little girl next to me who had slammed her hand over her mouth, probably having been taught not to disturb potioneers or any professionals in their work. „Do not worry, I am already finished", I said, deciding to speak in fluent french this time, catching her off guard. The rest of the conversation was completely spoken in french, started with an exasperated look: „Why do you not talk with us transfer students, if you can speak perfectly fluent french? Forget that, why did I only see you a few rare times until now?", she inquired.
„I do not leave this room much, focusing on my potions and I have already completed all required classes at Hogwarts, testing out of all of them to do exactly this. I just do not have the time and nerve to bother with you lot", I was completely honest, not seeing a reason to lie, which took her breath away, needing a few seconds to catch herself, before replying, lightly giggling: „I like blunt people. So, why the interest in potions? I personally am just fascinated by the general idea and am currently not allowed to brew yet sadly. But I do know the basics."
„Wards. I started learning potions to personally brew the potions used to treat my wardstones. But it also ended in a fascination for the subject, so here I am, slowly learning more and more", I said, before reflecting the next question: „Wanna try?" She started stuttering: „I, I a-am not al-llowed to yet", reverting to her previous self only a second later, mastery level occlumency shields snapping in place with a hearable bang: „What if something happens?", she inquired, obviously wanting to try, afraid for any ramifications I might face if something went wrong. „You will need to trust me on that front, together with the wards which can assure your safety, except you want to brew liquid luck or similarly complex potions.", I tried to assure her, failing, but her interest won out in the end.
„So, ready to start your first time of brewing?" I asked, getting a slightly nervous, her occlumency shields having lowered again: „No, but I will probably never feel ready", she said meekly, the last part barely audible.
„While knowing your limitations and shortcomings is commendable, you will need to step out of that shell at some point", I said to the insecure girl: „So, let us start!", I said, slightly manically grinning, before guiding her through her first brewing process, everything going perfectly smoothly. I shortly questioned her statement about this being her first time, but as fast as it came, it vanished again, the girl collapsing shortly after finishing the potion, the adrenalin leaving her body, knees giving way before plopping on good placed stool.
Then, to the possible schock and indignation of most amateur potioneers, I made tea in one of my smaller cauldrons, spending the next few hours just talking with the girl, mostly about potions. Then, she left, without even introducing herself.
Over the remaining time of the six months, this repeated, until it happened nearly daily. Her company was nice, even though she was six years younger than me, she had similar problems to myself, which ended up in early maturity, though not as extreme as mine.
We never talked about those types of things though, mostly talking about potions or the difference between the two schools, avoiding those topics on a silent agreement. And she got better at potions, rapidly so. Currently she was brewing the cure for boils completely on her own, no more explosions happening. The first one had freaked her out a bit, even though the wards triggered and nothing happened to her.
Due to her, I also decided to join the delegation, signing up on the very last day before cutoff. Naturally there were restrictions in place, starting with an upper limit and ending with age requirements, though those were overwritten if you had a mastery to your name. Normally only fifth years and above should join, but both Harry Potter and me signed up. The age gap between the different delegations had a simple reason, that nearly everyone from Beauxbuttons could speak fluent english, but nearly no one in Hogwarts spoke french, especially good enough to life there easily, Hogwarts not wanting to force young students to have such a difficult time.
The only problem was, that I was forced to join at least two classes while there, so I naturally choose potions and after a bit of thought alchemy, convinced by my regular visitor. For preparation I plundered a bit of Hogwarts potion ingredients, stocking up my personal kit and cleaned up and sealed my laboratory. We were set to leave tomorrow, as I was visited again, the small little girl accompanied by the nundo I had, introducing her familiar as: „Bob, but I could not choose the name.", and a hurried embarrassed addition. She was probably afraid, that I would end our blossoming friendship after knowing about Bob, having convinced herself to reveal him to me, before anyone else could spoil it for me.
„He is a magnificent specimen, isn't he?", I said, half jokingly, before continuing: „So, wanna meet another friend of mine before leaving? She would love to cuddle with Bob here", I continued, Bob looking slightly confused, probably accustomed to anyone else than his bond to run away at sight or trying to kill him. „I gladly would, where to?", she accepted, before accompanying them to Hagrid's hut, both of the animal lovers working on their lesson plans for the coming months.
We were not even through Hagrid's door, before I got jumped by Fang, Hagrid's dog and Bob got captured by Luna and a litte while later Hagrid, much to the amusement of my companion. Bob was not as sure at the start, only slowly relaxing, both of the strokers completely ignoring the humans in the room.
We had a nice afternoon, the work completely forgotten, before it was time to part, my taxi leaving for France very soon.
Next Destination: France.