April brought a new intensity to their work as they implemented the rigorous testing and documentation procedures they had learned at the Ministry. Their workshop had been reorganized to include dedicated testing areas, comprehensive record-keeping systems, and safety protocols that would have impressed professional magical engineers.
"Test sequence forty-seven," Susan announced, activating their latest version of the plant diagnostic tool. "Venomous Tentacula, mature specimen, showing signs of magical energy depletion."
Eliot monitored the device's readings while documenting every aspect of its performance. "Magical signature analysis complete. Device correctly identified energy depletion and recommended appropriate nutrient supplementation."
"Response time?"
"Three point seven seconds. Within acceptable parameters."
"Accuracy?"
"Ninety-four percent correlation with Professor Sprout's independent assessment."
They had been conducting similar tests for weeks, building a comprehensive database of their devices' performance under various conditions. The work was meticulous and sometimes tedious, but it was also revealing important insights about how their innovations actually functioned in practice.
"I never realized how much variation there was in magical plant signatures," Susan observed, reviewing their data. "Even plants of the same species can have completely different energy patterns."
"That's why the device needs to be so sophisticated," Eliot replied. "It has to account for individual variation while still providing reliable guidance."
---
Their systematic approach was paying off in unexpected ways. The comprehensive testing had revealed several design flaws they hadn't noticed during their initial development, leading to significant improvements in both performance and safety.
"Look at this," Susan said, showing him a graph of their potion brewing controller's performance over time. "The early versions had a drift problem—temperature accuracy decreased after extended use."
"But the current version maintains accuracy even after twelve hours of continuous operation," Eliot noted. "The improved runic stabilization matrices solved the drift issue."
"And the user interface modifications based on student feedback have increased successful brewing rates by thirty percent."
Professor Flitwick visited their workshop regularly to review their progress and provide guidance on advanced magical theory. His expertise was invaluable as they pushed the boundaries of what first-year students were supposed to understand.
"Your work is approaching the level of graduate research," he observed during one visit. "The theoretical complexity of your runic programming is quite remarkable."
"We've had excellent teachers," Susan said diplomatically.
"You've had curiosity and determination. Those are the most important qualities for any researcher."
"Professor," Eliot asked, "do you think we're moving too fast? Sometimes I worry that we're getting ahead of ourselves."
"Innovation requires pushing boundaries," Flitwick replied thoughtfully. "The question isn't whether you're moving fast, but whether you're moving safely and responsibly."
"And are we?"
"Your testing procedures are exemplary, your safety protocols are comprehensive, and your documentation is thorough. You're conducting yourselves like professional researchers."
---
Their reputation for rigorous work led to an unexpected opportunity. Professor Dumbledore visited their workshop in late April with a special request.
"I have a problem that might benefit from your particular expertise," he said, settling into one of their chairs with the casual grace that made even their advanced workshop feel like a cozy sitting room.
"What kind of problem, sir?" Susan asked.
"The castle's magical infrastructure is showing signs of age. Some of the enchantments that maintain the moving staircases, the Great Hall ceiling, and other essential systems are becoming unstable."
Eliot felt a thrill of excitement mixed with terror. "You want us to work on Hogwarts itself?"
"I want you to analyze the problem and propose solutions. The castle's magic is incredibly complex, but your fresh perspective might reveal approaches that traditional magical engineers have overlooked."
"This is... enormous," Susan said, clearly overwhelmed by the scope of the request.
"Indeed. Which is why I'm not asking you to implement any solutions, merely to study the systems and suggest improvements. Think of it as a research project rather than a repair job."
"Where would we start?" Eliot asked.
"The moving staircases would be an excellent beginning. They're complex enough to be interesting, but not so critical that mistakes would be catastrophic."
---
Studying Hogwarts' magical infrastructure proved to be the most challenging project they had ever undertaken. The castle's enchantments were layered over centuries, with each generation of magical engineers adding their own modifications and improvements.
"This is like trying to understand a computer program that's been modified by dozens of different programmers over hundreds of years," Eliot said, examining the runic matrices that controlled the staircase movements.
"Except the programming language keeps changing, and some of the original documentation is written in languages that don't exist anymore," Susan added, struggling with a medieval Latin inscription.
"And the hardware is a thousand-year-old castle that has its own magical personality."
They spent weeks mapping the staircase control systems, documenting the various enchantments and their interactions. The complexity was staggering—what appeared to be simple moving staircases was actually a sophisticated network of interconnected magical systems.
"I think I understand the instability problem," Susan said after days of analysis. "The original enchantments were designed for a smaller castle with fewer staircases. As the castle grew, new staircases were added without fully integrating them into the control system."
"So we have multiple control networks trying to coordinate with each other, but they're using different protocols," Eliot said, translating into terms from his previous life.
"Exactly. And over time, the lack of coordination has created interference patterns that are destabilizing the entire system."
"What would you recommend?" Professor Dumbledore asked when they presented their findings.
"A unified control system," Susan said. "Something that could coordinate all the staircases while preserving their individual characteristics."
"The challenge would be implementing it without disrupting the existing enchantments," Eliot added. "The castle has been functioning for centuries—we don't want to break something that works."
"A gradual integration approach," Dumbledore mused. "Interesting. Have you considered how such a system might be implemented?"
---
Their proposal for the staircase coordination system became their most ambitious project yet. It required advanced runic programming, sophisticated magical sensors, and a control algorithm that could manage dozens of moving staircases while accounting for student traffic patterns, maintenance schedules, and the castle's own preferences.
"The castle has preferences?" Susan asked when Dumbledore mentioned this detail.
"Oh yes. Hogwarts is quite opinionated about how its staircases should behave. Any control system would need to work with the castle's personality, not against it."
"How do we account for that in our design?" Eliot asked.
"Adaptive algorithms," Dumbledore suggested. "Systems that can learn and adjust based on the castle's responses."
It was a fascinating challenge that pushed their understanding of magical engineering to new limits. They were essentially designing an artificial intelligence system using runic magic—something that had never been attempted before.
"Are we crazy to think we can do this?" Susan asked during one of their late-night design sessions.
"Probably," Eliot replied. "But that's never stopped us before."
"And if we succeed?"
"We'll have created something genuinely revolutionary. A magical system that can learn and adapt."
"And if we fail?"
"We'll have learned more about advanced magical engineering than any first-year students in history."
Outside their workshop windows, the castle grounds were in full spring bloom. The future was bright with possibility, and they were ready to tackle their most ambitious challenge yet.
After all, they had come to Hogwarts to learn magic. Now they were helping to improve the very castle that had taught generations of wizards before them.
The circle was complete, and their real work was just beginning.