An Opus Alchymicum Vol 1: The Experimental Theologian's Apprentice

Some Unexpected Guests

Christmas morning dawned pale and drizzly, which disappointed Harry as he was really hoping to experience a White Christmas for his first one above ground. Fortunately for him this fairytale was made possible by Minerva who, upon noticing his mournful expression, cast a clever little charm on the living room as he entered, a charm that allowed for warm, dry snow to fall inside the townhouse flat. Harry spent a good hour just playing in the cotton-wool like drifts, frolicking about and having a great time.

That was until Sirius charmed a couple of snowballs to follow Harry around and perpetually bop him on the head. Ten minutes of that was quite enough for Harry, who scowled at Sirius and begged Minerva to cancel the spell, which she did with a deft sweep of her wand.

Sirius' punishment was that he had to cook breakfast. Harry watched him work at the stove, whistling away and rocking that Kiss The Cook hat that he'd conjured from somewhere. Soon the open plan kitchen was awash with the smell of frying eggs, sizzling bacon and popping, juicy sausages.

Then Harry frowned.

"Er, Sirius, why are you making so much?" Harry asked. "There's only me, you and Auntie Min."

Harry gestured towards a multi-compartment bain-marie, which Sirius was using to keep his food warm. His godfather turned his twinkling eyes on Harry.

"It's a Christmas Secret," he replied cryptically.

Harry frowned at him. "I hope it isn't the same type as putting cling film over the toilet bowl. That was a truly disgusting secret ... one I wish I'd never learned!"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "Oh no, kiddo, that was just a Christmas prank."

"Well, I'm planning my revenge," Harry moaned bitterly. "Just know that."

"I look forward to it!" Sirius hooted.

Harry left Sirius to his curious over-cooking and joined Minerva by the Christmas tree. He spent a moment looking at the real fairies darting about between the branches, swinging on the baubles and playing hide-and-seek behind the points of the star on top.

Minerva was busy tidying up the glossy wrapping paper from Harry's presents. She had gifted him two books, one a sourcebook on ancient Runes and the other a thick tome called An Idiots Guide to Advanced Magical Flight, which would be a companion gift to Sirius' broom, which was propped up in the corner behind the oversized tree.

In addition to the books, Minerva had also bought Harry a set of his very own Runestones, which she had begun teaching him how to charge.

"Each rune has a meaning, and we will get to them in good time," she was saying between casting bundles of paper into the roaring fire. "But first we need to charge them with your personal energy and magic."

"How do we do that?" Harry asked eagerly, sitting cross-legged opposite Minerva.

"The process is relatively simple to start with," Minerva went on. "You simply close your eyes, clear your mind, and hold the rune tight in your palm for three minutes. You visualise energy flowing from your skin into the crystals, infusing them with warmth and vibrancy."

"How will I know if it works?" Harry queried, turning some of the complex Runestones in his fingers.

"The Runes will vibrate with an energy that you will feel and recognise," Minerva explained. "It will be like looking in a mirror. The Runes will feel as part of you."

"Is that it? That doesn't seem so hard."

"It is only the basic level. In order to get the runes to function correctly, you will need to learn to charge them with your intent, which is a significantly more difficult practice. It will also require the use of a ritual circle, but we can build that together."