The Artisan's Path: Chapter 101

Hi all,

Here’s the owed chapter. The Artisan’s Path is back! As a reminder, the last chapter ended with Harry escaping the island after the invaders from the fae realm came through the gate. 

Chapter 101

12th July

Harry circled Spidey, who stood in the centre of the warehouse. The guild had emptied it to accommodate the construct and to keep it out of sight. The Americans didn't want the construct staying in Gabrielle's trunk, fearing such an important piece of technology might be taken away. 

The warehouse was heavily guarded. The only reason Harry was allowed inside was that they had no direct control over Spidey themselves. They relied on Harry to keep it docile.

Despite the exhaustion from yesterday's battle and the Restoration Draught's debilitating side effects, Harry was too restless to remain still. His muscles ached, and a persistent headache throbbed behind his eyes, but his curiosity wouldn't let him rest. This was a rare opportunity to study an artifact of Galahad's creation up close. He suspected he wouldn't get another chance once he left the guild.

"Would you mind if I examined your power core?" Harry asked, stepping closer to the metallic construct.

Spidey's featureless head tilted slightly, regarding him with what Harry had begun to recognise as curiosity. After several moments of apparent consideration, the construct's liquid metal chest began to part, the silvery surface flowing aside to reveal a complex arrangement of crystals and runes at its centre.

"Thank you," Harry murmured, stepping closer.

The construct shifted once more, its legs folding beneath it as it settled into what Harry could only describe as a standby mode. The light in its eyes dimmed but didn't extinguish completely.

Harry leaned in, careful not to touch anything. The core was a marvel of magical engineering. Multiple layers of interlocking components formed a three-dimensional array, with thousands of runic sequences etched onto crystal surfaces that somehow interfaced with the liquid metal of Spidey's body. Every component seemed to serve multiple functions, yet all worked in perfect harmony.

He began taking notes, sketching the more interesting arrays as he identified them. Many of the runes were Flux Arrays—similar to those he'd been studying but far more sophisticated in their implementation. The way they interacted with the liquid metal was particularly fascinating, allowing the construct to reshape itself while maintaining its core functionality.

"Brilliant," Harry muttered as he examined how the power distribution system worked. 

It reminded him of something—the spider artifacts used to disrupt communications during the Battle of Hogwarts. The core principles were similar, though Spidey represented a quantum leap in complexity and capability. 

As Harry worked, his mind drifted back to the events following their escape from the island.

Earlier this morning, Elizabeth had led them directly to MACUSA headquarters, where President Alexander Graves and his security council had been waiting. The room had been tense, with grim-faced officials seated at a long table, their eyes fixed on Harry with suspicion.

The President had been surprisingly forthcoming, acknowledging they'd known about the island's anomalous magical signature for years but never discovered the gate. All cordiality vanished as the officials started interrogating him.

Their questions had been relentless: How had Harry found the gate? What else had he discovered in the chamber? Did he attempt to activate it? Harry answered truthfully, though he grew increasingly annoyed at the suspicion directed his way. 

When one official suggested Harry might have known about the gate beforehand and withheld the information for his own benefit, he'd nearly lost his temper. Although what the official said was true, he didn’t like the implication that he was doing it for purely selfish motivations. 

Sensing Harry's impending eruption, Charlus had intervened. "My grandson has answered your questions. He won't be answering any more. Are you forgetting that you would have never discovered the gate without him? Or warned about the intruders?"

The President and officials had then turned to discuss the island itself. The revelation of a permanent gateway to the Fae Realm had caused visible alarm; some advocated destroying the gate immediately and burying all evidence of its existence. One particularly vocal woman had even suggested clearing the entire island.

The scientists in the room had vehemently disagreed. 

"This is a discovery of unprecedented magnitude," Daniel had insisted. "The research potential alone—understanding the Fae Realm, communicating directly with its inhabitants—we could revolutionise our understanding of magic itself!"

Graves had reluctantly sided with the scientists, ordering the island classified at Maximum Security level. 

Their discussion had turned to the intruders—those who had stepped through the gate from the Fae Realm and now remained on the island. They had already prepared surveillance to watch the island, wary of what they would do next. They had a potential crisis on their hands. While the intruders were small in numbers, they had access to a gate which could bring countless more.    

When they'd begun debating whether to inform the ICW and their international allies on the situation, Harry had lost interest. He'd been surprised they allowed him and his grandfather to remain for the discussion at all. It hadn't been an oversight, he suspected. For whatever reason, they wanted the Potters involved.

Oddly, they seemed to have forgotten about Baba Yaga and her whereabouts after she attacked the island. They probably saw her as a lesser threat, which sounded stupid to him. No one should underestimate a deity.  

Harry's attention returned to the present as he finished documenting a particularly elegant array. He was about to examine another section when the warehouse door opened.

His grandparents entered, accompanied by Elizabeth and, to Harry's surprise, President Graves himself. Something in their expressions made him straighten.

"Harry," Minerva greeted him. "How are you feeling?"

"Still tired, but better than this morning," Harry replied, closing his notebook. "What's going on?"

Elizabeth noticed Spidey's exposed power core. "The construct allowed you to study its power core? Would you permit some of our researchers to do the same? They could learn a great deal."

"Sure," Harry nodded, wondering why they needed to bring the President of MACUSA just to ask that.

Graves stepped forward. "Mr Potter, I'd like to make an offer."

Harry raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"American citizenship," Graves said. "Dual citizenship, to be precise."

"What?" Harry blinked, genuinely surprised.

"I considered trying to poach you from Britain entirely," Graves admitted with a slight smile. "But I doubt you'd accept. This seems like a reasonable compromise."

Harry considered the President's offer, which he understood wasn't truly an offer at all. The President wanted him to have legal status in America, making him subject to their laws—including their secrecy statutes. Graves didn't want Harry telling anyone about the island incident or any of the secrets he'd learned.

"Do my girlfriends get the same offer?" Harry asked.

"That won't be necessary," Graves replied smoothly. "You're our primary concern."

The message was clear: if Harry kept quiet, the others likely would too.

"You don't have to accept," Charlus said quietly. "But it does come with certain benefits."

"Indeed." Graves nodded. "It would make conducting business in America considerably easier."

Harry weighed his options, though he knew he didn't have much choice. Since he was being forced into this position, he might as well squeeze as many benefits from the deal as possible.

"I already have dual citizenship with France and Britain," Harry said. "But I suppose I could add a third country to the list."

"Excellent," Graves replied. "There are some papers for you to sign, mere formalities. We can discuss business matters as well."

Harry nodded, wondering what else they would ask of him. "Is there anything else I should know about this arrangement?"

"Just the standard secrecy requirements regarding classified information," Graves said lightly. "Which now includes everything related to the island. I'm sure you understand the necessity."

"Of course," Harry said, matching the President's tone. "National security and all that."

As they discussed the details, Harry noticed Spidey's form beginning to flow back together, its power core disappearing beneath the liquid metal surface. The construct straightened, observing their interaction with what Harry imagined was interest. He wondered what Spidey made of all this political manoeuvring. 

By the time evening fell, Harry had negotiated several additional concessions: access to certain restricted American research materials, access to Spidey, an open invitation to visit MACUSA's Magitech facilities, and a promise to simplify import regulations for his artifacts. After a moment of thought, he asked for one final concession, which Harry was surprised the President agreed to. 

Harry didn’t think he did so badly, considering the situation. The President could have been a lot more forceful in their negotiations, but he gave Harry almost everything he asked for. 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 

Harry lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of his guest room at the American Artisan Guild. 

He felt slightly disgruntled that none of his girlfriends had joined him tonight. Though he understood their concern about his condition—they didn't want to exhaust him further—it still rankled. He would have preferred their company over solitude.

The only companions he had were the two Demiguises, who had inexplicably attached themselves to him. He had constructed a makeshift nest on the floor beside his bed, crafting it from spare blankets and pillows. 

Harry found their presence oddly comforting. It felt like he'd taken on the responsibility of being their parent. According to Gabrielle, they were still quite young. Due to the conflicts on the island over the past few months, the population of Demiguise had been decimated, leaving them as the remaining survivors.    

A sudden warmth from the symbol on his hand startled him. He hadn't felt the Source's presence since receiving the reward for completing the task to escape the island. No matter how many times he'd attempted to summon it, the book had remained unresponsive. He'd begun to worry that he'd somehow damaged it.

Harry retrieved the Source. Opening it, he discovered a message, informing him that it had made some changes to the system and interface. Curious, he flipped to his status page.

========== 

Harry Potter 

Magic reserves: 8350 

Level 18: 418550 / 500000 

Artisan Rank: 645 

Workshop Level: 3 [5040/40000] 

Skills 

Runic Languages: Level 5 

Technical Skills: Level 6 

Special Abilities/Traits: Animagus, Dexterity, Steady Hands, Velocier, Warden, Arcane Resistance 3

===========

His skills had been massively simplified. Instead of separate entries for different runic languages and technical disciplines, they had been combined into broader categories. Their current levels reflected his expertise across all related areas.

His Renown stat had disappeared entirely, apparently deemed redundant with the Artisan Rank serving as the sole measure of his standing in the wider artisan community.

Similarly, his crafting book had been incorporated into his workshop level. New recipes would unlock as he advanced to higher workshop levels, streamlining the entire system.

Harry flipped to the tasks page, finding it reorganised into distinct categories: Artisan, Relationships, Source Upgrades, and General. The Cursed Vault quests had been sorted under the latter.

He checked the Source Upgrade category first. It had one entry.

========== 

Task: The Source's Gauntlet 

Requirements: Runic Language, Technical Level: Level 5 

Description: The host’s gauntlet for accessing your Spell Cards is outdated, along with the current inventory system. Use your current knowledge, the available schematic and resources from the Magical Emporium to make a gauntlet that serves both as a spell card delivery system and a tool to view your status and access your inventory. 

Time Limit: None 

Reward: 200,000 General Experience (Bonus experience if the host adds additional features.)

===========

Harry's eyes widened. A gauntlet that could access his inventory directly would be immensely useful. Having to retrieve the book every time he wanted to take something out was becoming increasingly inconvenient, especially in urgent situations.

His gaze shifted to the Artisan tasks. The Source had converted his ongoing projects into formal tasks. Though they offered no additional rewards beyond what he'd already receive for completing them, they served as helpful reminders of his commitments—like the commissioned bow for the guild.

Among these was a new task that immediately caught his interest:

========== 

Task: Miniature Guardian

Requirements: Runic Language Level 6, Technical Skills Level 6 

Description: Using your knowledge of Spidey's construction and the technology acquired from Obsidian, create a miniature version of the metallic guardian. The construct should be capable of following simple commands and protecting a designated area. 

Time Limit: End of visit to America 

Rewards: 400,000 General Experience.

=========== 

The prospect of creating his own version of Spidey, even a miniature one, was enticing. The notes he'd taken while examining the construct would prove invaluable for such a project. 

But he needed to improve his Runic Language to level six. Was that a hard requirement or merely a suggested level? Regardless, he would need to improve his knowledge first if he was going to succeed.

Finally, Harry turned his attention to the Relationship tasks. These governed interactions with his family, girlfriends, and closest friends. The list was extensive, particularly for his girlfriends, with varying rewards for different actions.

Harry scratched his head, bemused. Was this the ultimate relationship guide? A manual for keeping multiple witches happy? Though he felt he managed reasonably well in that department, he wasn't about to reject the assistance.

He browsed through the tasks until one relating to Hermione caught his eye. It concerned something important to the witch—something he hadn't been aware of until this moment. Or hadn’t paid much attention to. Perhaps he was more oblivious than he'd realised.

As if thinking about her had summoned her, the door creaked open, and Hermione peeked in. Harry hastily stowed the Source away as she crossed the room to his bed.

"What was that book?" she asked, eyeing the spot where it had disappeared.

"Nothing," Harry replied, perhaps too quickly.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she hopped onto the bed and crawled over to him. Harry found himself distracted as her nightie dipped forward, offering a tantalising view of her cleavage.

"I have a request," Hermione said, settling beside him.

"I'll do anything if you stay in that position," Harry replied with a grin.

Hermione crossed her arms, which only served to enhance her figure further. "Focus, Harry."

"I'm completely focused," Harry assured her. "What do you need?"

"I'd like to visit the Salem Witches' Academy in Massachusetts." 

Harry remembered the task he'd just discovered in the Source. "Does this have to do with your interest in combining healing and modern medicine?"

Hermione nodded, looking pleased that he'd made the connection. "They have a curriculum on Healing that integrates non-magical techniques. I'd like to check it out."

"Are you thinking of leaving Hogwarts? Abandoning me?" Harry asked with mock horror.

Hermione slapped his arm. "Don't be ridiculous. I just want an idea of what I should focus on. I plan to ask Madam Pomfrey to start teaching me this year."

"So, you want me to come with you?" Harry asked. "I’m game. We could make a day of it."

Hermione's face lit up. She lunged forward, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. Harry grabbed her waist, pulling her closer as her soft body pressed against his. He silently thanked the Source for its timely assistance as Hermione deepened the kiss.

Perhaps the evening wouldn't be so lonely after all.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

15th July

The Salem Witches' Academy was housed within what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary colonial building from the outside. 

Harry had travelled by Portkey with Hermione and his grandmother, landing in a small courtyard hidden behind the main structure. Unlike Hogwarts, which stood proudly visible to those who knew of its existence, Salem concealed itself in plain sight, using magic similar to Hogwarts' concealment charms, but adapted to blend with the non-magical historical preservation efforts.

Headmistress Eleanor Pierce met them at the entrance. A formidable-looking witch with dark hair pulled into a tight bun. Her posture was impeccable, and her navy blue robes were pressed to perfection, giving her an air of authority that reminded Harry of his grandmother.

"Minerva," she greeted, extending her hand. "It's been far too long."

"Indeed it has, Eleanor," Minerva replied, shaking the offered hand.

“Have you thought anymore about my offer?”

“I’m afraid I still have to decline,” Minerva replied. “I enjoy my job at Hogwarts too much.”     

“Pity.”

Harry exchanged glances with Hermione. Was the Headmistress trying to poach his grandmother away from Hogwarts?  

Eleanor turned her attention to Harry and Hermione. "I don't usually allow wizards into the academy, but I made an exception after Elizabeth's request."

"I appreciate your consideration," Harry said.

Eleanor nodded curtly. "While you're here, Mr Potter, I expect you to conduct yourself with decorum."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

Hermione nudged him sharply with her elbow. "She means, don't corrupt the witches with your wickedness."

"Don't worry, Headmistress. Corrupting four girls is my limit," Harry said with a straight face.

Minerva slapped the back of his head as Eleanor gasped.

"He's joking," Minerva said hastily. "Harry, behave yourself."

Eleanor's lips thinned, but she turned and led them through the academy's entrance. The halls were bustling with witches of various ages. Unlike Hogwarts with its uniform dress code, the Salem students wore a mix of practical modern clothing, though all wore the same navy-blue blazer with the academy's emblem.

As they walked through the corridors, Harry felt numerous eyes on him. It was as if he was an alien specimen they wanted to study.

"I expect you to protect me, Hermione," he whispered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You'll survive."

Eleanor led them to an office door with a plaque reading "Dr Alexandra Morgan, Head of Integrated Healing". 

She knocked once before entering. Inside, a woman in her forties with auburn hair looked up from her desk. She wore what appeared to be a modified Healer's robe with pockets that held both a wand and what looked like Muggle medical instruments.

"Alexandra, these are our guests from Hogwarts," Eleanor said. "Professor Minerva McGonagall, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. Miss Granger has expressed interest in your department."

“Thank heavens you arrived.” Alexandra rounded the desk. “I need a break from my paperwork. Let’s go take a tour.” 

They spent the next hour touring the Integrated Healing Department, which spanned an entire wing of the academy. The facility resembled both a magical infirmary and a modern hospital, with enchanted diagnostic equipment alongside modified Muggle medical devices.

Harry watched as Hermione engaged in an intense academic discussion with Dr Morgan and several other healing professors. As they continued through the department, Harry hung back with Minerva, letting Hermione immerse herself in the experience.

"She's found her element," Minerva observed quietly.

Harry nodded. "I've never seen her this excited about a potential career path before."

Their tour was interrupted when someone called Hermione's name. They turned to see a young witch hurrying towards them, her face lighting up with recognition.

"Penelope Clearwater?" Hermione said, surprised. "I didn't know you were here."

The former Ravenclaw prefect embraced Hermione briefly. 

"I transferred after the Battle. Needed a change of scenery." Her eyes flicked to Harry. "Hello, Potter. Causing trouble at yet another magical institution?"

"Just visiting," Harry replied. "Hermione's thinking about healing as a career."

"You couldn't find a better place," Penelope said. "The approach here is completely different from St Mungo's."

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Absolutely. I'm specialising in curse damage reversal, and the techniques they've developed here have revolutionised treatment for long-term exposure cases." Penelope lowered her voice. "If you're serious about healing, you should consider at least a term here. It would give you a massive advantage."

Harry saw something shift in Hermione's expression—a glimpse of possibility she hadn't previously considered.

“What happened to your relationship with Percy?” Harry asked.

Penelope grimaced. “We broke up. He’s a nice guy, but he has some outdated views on women.”

“Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?” Harry guessed.

“Got it in one.”

Harry shook his head. Percy had gotten off lightly. If he suggested that to his girlfriends, they would murder him.    

As Penelope was called away by another student, Eleanor suggested they break for lunch. While they ate in a private dining room, Harry noticed Minerva watching Hermione carefully.

When Hermione excused herself to the lavatory, Minerva turned to Harry. 

"I'm impressed with what Salem has accomplished," she said quietly. "Their approach to education is refreshingly progressive."

"But?" Harry prompted, sensing her hesitation.

Minerva sighed. "But I worry about Hermione being tempted to transfer. Not for selfish reasons—she's an exceptional student, and Hogwarts would lose a bright light—but because I wonder if it would be the right choice for her at this stage."

"You think she might actually consider it?" Harry asked, a knot forming in his stomach.

"Anyone with her academic drive would at least consider the opportunities presented here." 

When Hermione returned, Eleanor Pierce steered the conversation toward academic matters. "Miss Granger, your professors speak very highly of your abilities. Dr Morgan has already expressed interest in taking you on as an apprentice."

"That's very flattering," Hermione replied.

"We have a special programme for exceptional students," Eleanor continued. "The disruption to your education would be minor if you decide to transfer now."

Hermione frowned, looking conflicted. "That's a very generous offer. I'd need time to consider it, of course."

"Of course," Eleanor replied smoothly. "No pressure."

After lunch, they visited the academy's archives at Hermione's request. The room was filled with rare texts from around the world, and Hermione immediately began browsing the shelves. Harry settled into a chair, knowing they would be there for a while.

"Whatever you decide," he said, "I'll support you."

Hermione turned to him. “I’m not going to transfer schools, Harry. My life is in England. Even without considering you and the girls, there’s my parents. It’s too much upheaval.”

He didn’t show how relieved he felt at her answer. “You should make your own healing department at Hogwarts. I could help build it” 

Hermione smiled. “Not a bad idea.” 

As they prepared to leave later that afternoon, Headmistress Pierce approached Hermione with an envelope bearing the Salem seal.

"This is an official invitation to our summer programme next year," she said. "Even if you decline our offer to transfer, you shouldn’t miss out. You'd be learning directly under Dr Morgan and our other specialists. We would need your decision by spring."

Hermione accepted the envelope, looking much happier at the prospect. A summer was far different from an entire school year.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

20th July

Harry hunched over his workbench inside his trunk workshop. Various tools and materials were scattered around him in what appeared to be chaotic disorder but was actually a carefully arranged system he could navigate blindfolded. With the microscopic lens attached to his head, he delicately pulled apart the mechanical spiders that Obsidian had used during the Battle of Hogwarts.

These spiders would provide crucial components for his current project. He'd decided to work on the miniature version of Spidey first, as it was more straightforward than the gauntlet. That sounded illogical, if you didn’t take into account the inventory feature. Even with the schematic, it was going to be a nightmare to get it right. 

Once he'd gained enough experience, he'd tackle the upgraded gauntlet. The miniature Spidey also had a time limit, making it the obvious priority.

"Bloody brilliant engineering," Harry muttered as he extracted a minuscule power distribution node from one of the spiders. The node was hardly bigger than a grain of rice but contained a complex runic array. 

After dismantling the last spider, Harry retrieved the crystal box from his inventory. Inside was the poison delivery device Ivaylo had planted at the competition. After studying Spidey's construction, he'd discovered how to make the transforming metal completely inert without needing the containment box.

Harry checked his notes before casting a series of spells at the device. The metal's shimmering surface dulled as the enchantments took effect, rendering the dangerous device harmless. He carefully pried it open, revealing more of the precious liquid metal.

"Perfect," he said, adding the components to his growing pile of materials. 

Now, he had everything he needed to create his miniature guardian. Thanks to Maya's patient tutoring, his mechanical and electrical engineering skills had improved tremendously. He still expected obstacles—nothing worthwhile was ever simple—but he felt as prepared as he could be.

Harry began with the power core, the most crucial component. Without a stable core, the guardian would be nothing but an expensive paperweight. He'd spent days refining a raw crystal using his gem crafting station, coaxing its structure into the optimal configuration for the runic schematic he had in mind.

Drawing a deep breath to steady his hands, he began inscribing the first layer of runes. Each mark had to be precisely positioned, with no margin for error. The microscopic lens magnified his view, allowing him to work at a nearly cellular scale.

"First layer, power regulation," Harry murmured. 

Unlike standard runic inscriptions that merely sat on a surface, these runes needed to penetrate the crystal's structure at varying depths. He'd modified his tools accordingly, with depth gauges that provided feedback through gentle vibrations in the handle.

Hours passed as Harry completed the first runic layer, then began on the second—the adaptive intelligence array. This was where Flux Runes would be crucial, allowing the construct to learn from its experiences.

He'd just begun inscribing a particularly complex sequence when he sensed someone entering his workshop. He completed the current rune before setting down his tools and removing the microscopic lens.

Daphne approached him. Harry stood, stretching muscles that protested after hours of stillness.

"Making progress?" she asked, glancing at the partially completed core.

Harry nodded, pulling her into a kiss that she returned enthusiastically. "It's coming along. Is there something wrong?"

"You've been stuck in here too long," Daphne replied, perching on the edge of his workbench. "The ICW representatives have arrived, and they're about to convene with the MACUSA president."

Harry frowned. "I haven't been here that long. Aren't they meant to arrive next week?"

"The situation has changed," Daphne explained. "Surveillance has revealed that the numbers on the island now exceed a hundred. Elizabeth just told us."

"It's that bad already?" Harry asked. "How many people are they going to bring through?"

"It gets worse," Daphne said. "Baba Yaga was spotted visiting the island. She was there for several hours before she left, unimpeded."

"Do the Americans think she's seeking an alliance with these intruders?” Harry asked. “That's a scary thought."

"Harry, you've been invited to the meeting."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're the only one who has seen them," Daphne pointed out. "Not to mention everything else that you know about the gate."

Harry groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Can I decline?"

Daphne smiled, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Just try it. I'll enjoy watching the ensuing chaos."

Harry pinched her side, causing her to squeal. "You're getting too naughty. I may have to punish you severely."

Daphne kissed him again, her lips lingering. "Promises, promises. Now get going."

Harry reluctantly set his tools in order and secured his project. Whatever was happening on the island, it was accelerating faster than he anticipated. The fact that Baba Yaga could come and go freely was particularly concerning. 

"Have you heard anything from my grandfather?" Harry asked as they climbed out of the trunk.

"He's already at the meeting," Daphne replied. 

Harry nodded, quickly changing into more appropriate attire. This was a formal event, and turning up in work clothes spattered with runic ink wouldn't make the best impression.

He considered the implications of attending the meeting. The Americans on their own were bad enough, but now he had to face the entire ICW. Representatives from magical governments worldwide would be present, each with their own agenda. Britain would send someone from the Ministry, possibly even the Minister himself. France too, which meant Gabrielle's father might be there.

The political minefield stretched before him like a vast, treacherous landscape. One wrong word could spark an international incident.

So, what do you think? There’s still a lot to get through before Harry starts his third year. Things will start unravelling as the fae realm influences the world more and more.

Thanks for reading.