Man of Archives

Upon arriving home, I was greeted with a small celebration and began preparing for a month-long journey to another country. I informed my parents that I would be studying abroad for a whole month, which delighted them. Though I wasn’t keen on purchasing a Portkey for travel, I didn't mind experiencing the Muggle way of traveling.

 

The plane ticket was cheap because I planned the trip to fly out of Heathrow Airport to the Netherlands. I would arrive in Amsterdam and then head to Antwerp. To be fully prepared, I bought a travel guide since I needed to navigate the magical districts of the country.

 

I didn’t get a chance to meet up with Maggie and Tamara. There simply wasn’t time, and to be honest, I wasn’t particularly interested. My goals and interests have changed. In Diagon Alley, I stocked up on more than just travel guides; I also bought several useful potions. The most important for my studies was a month’s supply of Mind Sharpening Potion, followed by Energon, a potion to restore energy—a safer alternative to energy drinks. All this was to ensure my studies would be as productive and profitable as possible.

 

The flight itself was straightforward and, I’d even say, pleasant. There was no need to freeze while crossing the English Channel, and I flew in considerable comfort. Some people were smoking and drinking, which wasn’t the most pleasant part, but overall, it was fine.

 

In Amsterdam, after passing through some Muggle checks, I was approached by two wizards.

 

“Good day,” they greeted me. One of them flashed a wand, immediately revealing who they were. “Let’s step aside to complete a few procedures.”

 

“Sure,” I nodded.

 

They led me to a small office. One wizard sat across from me while the other stood behind me. The situation was a bit tense, but since I hadn’t shown any hostility, there was no reason for them to act that way.

 

“We’re representatives of the Ministry of Magic of the Netherlands,” said the wizard sitting across from me. “We need to register your wand. That’s all.”

 

“All right,” I agreed and pulled out my wand. It was in perfect condition, as I never neglected its care.

 

A small scale appeared on the table. I placed my wand on it and waited. After a few minutes, the check was complete. They made some notes on papers, and only then did they let me go. I immediately performed a diagnostic on my wand to ensure they hadn’t cast any unwanted spells on it. As it turned out, nothing extra had been added.

 

Satisfied, I headed out of the airport. The first thing that annoyed me was the crowd of people on the street. The noise and shouting were overwhelming, making me want to escape to a quiet place as quickly as possible. But that was impossible.

 

Once on the bus, I noticed a tall, elderly black man with a strange hairstyle looking at me with an interested gaze. Our eyes met, and I realized his interest was purely gastronomic. It made me feel a bit disgusted, though I didn’t show it on my face.

 

After getting off the bus, I headed for the underground metro, which was supposed to take me to the station I needed. I had tickets, so I didn’t need to worry about the police.

 

Another half an hour later, I got off at my station and opened the travel guide. There was a small map showing the way. Following the directions was simple, and I quickly found myself in an empty alley, hidden in the shadows of buildings. It was impossible to see what was happening there.

 

I took out my wand and tapped several times in a specific rhythm. The wall trembled and became semi-transparent, inviting me to pass through, which I did.

 

The local magical street immediately stood out with its differences. The first thing I noticed was that the buildings were straight, unlike the crooked ones in London. Then I saw many food stalls in the middle of the street, inviting visitors to try their offerings. Further down, statues of various wizards mixed with knights caught my attention. The statues were four to five meters tall and would surely be useful in case of an attack on this street.

 

Behind the statues were various magical shops with identical signs, which was a bit surprising. The signs were all in the same style, with text in the same font, and even the colors didn’t stand out much. I wondered if these were rules set by the Ministry or an agreement among the locals.

 

Moving to the side, I was surprised to find that the passage was made at the base of a large statue of an unknown wizard, standing with one hand raised and pointing south, with small lights instead of eyes. Quite a remarkable place.

 

After taking in the sights, I headed to the nearest tavern. I needed a fireplace to travel to the next city. Later, when I had more time, I would spend more time exploring the local magical district.

 

The tavern I entered was empty. An old witch sat at a table, easily identifiable by her face and attire. There’s no real difference between witches and wizards; they use the same magic. The only distinction is age and character. The more cranky the character, the more likely they are to be called a witch.

 

“Antwerp,” I told her the city I needed to go to.

 

“***, ***, ***,” she responded, pointing to the fireplace, then squinted at me. “So, you don’t understand a thing.”

 

“Yes,” I nodded and shrugged. “I don’t understand your language. I need to get to Antwerp. How much will it cost?”

 

“Why do you need to go there?” she asked suspiciously.

 

“I need to meet someone,” I replied calmly.

 

“And who might that be?” she asked, slowly approaching.

 

This made me a little uneasy. I didn’t draw my wand, but I could feel a bit of apprehension. To hide my slight nervousness, I adjusted my hair and placed my hand on my wand. At the same time, I reinforced my mental defenses, just in case of possible interference.

 

“Oh, just someone,” I waved her off.

 

“I see,” she nodded. “Maybe you’d like something sweet?”

 

“No, thank you,” I replied. “May I use your fireplace? You were listed in the travel guide.”

 

“Of course, you can,” she said, coming closer. “But…”

 

The next moment, her hand shot out of her pocket and sprayed something into the air. That was enough for me to hold my breath. In the next moment, a powerful spell threw the witch against the wall. I continued the spell, creating an Air Bubble around my head to block the dust.

 

Looking at the woman, I saw her lying at an awkward angle. She was still alive, as her chest was barely moving, but it was noticeable. Still, she was alive.

 

“And what was that?” I muttered into the air, but no answer came.

 

Now, the question of what to do loomed large. She attacked me, so my actions could be justified as self-defense, but then again… I’m not in England, and chances are I’ll be blamed no matter what. What a mess.

 

What should I do… I don’t know.

 

A quick wave of my wand, and the witch’s wand was already in my hand, ready to be used. First, I cast a spell of analysis to understand what was wrong with her. The answers came quickly. The impact with the wall had broken her spine in several places, instantly paralyzing her limbs and most muscles. She also sustained a severe head injury that rendered her unable to speak or see.

 

Her mind was in a state of panic and overwhelming fear because she didn’t know what would happen next. I didn’t know either because I didn’t have the skills to heal her instantly. Simply erasing her memory wouldn’t help, as the body would still be there, drawing attention. What should I do… I don’t know.

 

It seems the simplest solution is best. As they say in one of the kingdoms bordering Fior, “No body, no crime.” And luckily, I have some skills in Transfiguration.

 

First, I recalled a spell that’s rarely used because it offers no practical benefit—a spell to remove the behavioral matrix of a creature for use in Transfiguration. Most matrices are already known and woven into spells. But wizards had to obtain matrices somehow… This is the spell I intend to use.

 

After ten minutes of active casting with my wand, a small silvery orb formed in my hand. If you looked closely, you could see swirling thoughts and strange images within.

 

The rest was simple. I Transfigured an almost perfect copy of the witch from the air. The silvery orb flew into her open mouth, and then her eyes began to fill with life. The next spell immobilized the Transfigured body, preventing it from moving until a certain time.

 

Then I turned to the still-living witch. In magical medicine, there’s a spell for such problems when healing isn’t possible. This spell is considered ethical as it stops all vital signs while flooding the mind with a surge of happiness hormones. I’m not an expert in this, but I understand it’s a relatively peaceful death. Since this witch is in psychological agony, I must ease her suffering. The fact that it’s also beneficial for me is irrelevant.

 

“Perge!”

 

The next moment, I saw the woman’s body tense slightly, then relax. A moment later, a small transparent orb formed above her. Leaning in, I was surprised to see it fly into me. Then, I realized that significant changes had occurred, similar to those during that fatal duel with Bolshakov. A new section had formed in my archive, one that hadn’t existed before. I’ll study it later when I have the chance.

 

Stepping back, I made a quick motion with my wand, and the dead body turned into a small trinket, which I pocketed. The slight discomfort I felt didn’t go away. Exhaling and closing my eyes a little, I allowed myself to calm down. Yes, I had just killed someone who wanted to do something terrible.

 

I hid the trinket in my pocket and then removed the spell from the Transfigured body. It immediately stood up and tried to say something, but I hadn’t added that function when I Transfigured the body. I calmly left the building as if nothing had happened. The body followed me for a moment, catching the attention of some passing wizards before returning to the shop. Meanwhile, I calmly took out the travel guide and headed toward the local Gringotts branch.

 

I remained composed, mentally relaxed, and continued walking. The other wizards paid little attention to me. The Transfigured body should last about seven hours. I think that’s enough to ensure any investigators can’t trace it back to me.

 

The local Gringotts branch was smaller than the one in Diagon Alley but more richly decorated. Gold and diamonds indicated who held the wealth here. From history, I know that goblin wars on the continent were less bloody because there was more space here than on the islands.

 

The goblin guards here looked more imposing. They wore incredibly heavy armor, adorned with magical symbols of goblin magic. Both carried massive hammers on their backs, almost as large as they were.

 

I approached one of the fireplaces. A short, young goblin was sitting nearby, calculating something on a scrap of paper.

 

“Excuse me,” I addressed him in English.

 

“Yes,” he immediately looked up from his work. “How can I help you?”

 

“Could you send me to Antwerp?” I asked politely.

 

“That will be three Galleons,” he replied.

 

“Thank you,” I nodded and promptly handed over three Galleons. Yes, it’s expensive, but I’m willing to pay for safety and speed. No need to worry about anything bad happening to me.

 

“Step into the fireplace,” said the goblin.

 

I stepped into the fireplace. He got up, took a handful of Floo Powder, and threw it at my feet, muttering something in Gobbledygook.

 

The next moment, I felt myself being pulled somewhere. The space swirled, occasionally divided by white flashes, which were other connected fireplaces. After a few more seconds, I landed on something solid and immediately stepped forward.

 

I found myself in a small room with a small table, behind which sat another young goblin. He glanced at me with some interest but quickly returned to what he was doing before.

 

The Floo Network is a convenient and pleasant way to travel, available to anyone. This method was first invented in England about three hundred years ago. After that, it gained popularity among magical families and individual wizards in Europe. They say it’s not the most popular method in America, but I don’t know much about that.

 

Upon exiting, I took one last look at the building and memorized it. The magical street here wasn’t that big. I could easily see both the beginning and the end of it. The buildings were spaced out, allowing for small yards with some magical creatures. They were all of the lowest danger level, so there was no problem with that. My attention was drawn to a restaurant where I was supposed to meet the wizard who would be training me for the entire month. It was the only restaurant on the street, so it was impossible to miss.

 

The meeting was scheduled for tomorrow, so I needed to find a place to spend the night. Without much thought, I headed to the restaurant. Inside, a few groups of wizards were chatting. Only one wizard in a green cloak paid me any attention. His hood was pulled over his head and even slightly enchanted, making it impossible to see what was hidden underneath.

 

I sat down at a table and waited for a waiter to approach me. But no waiter came. Instead, a small menu appeared before me, listing what I could order. But there was one problem… I didn’t understand the language. Too bad.

 

With some hesitation, I glanced around, hoping for some understanding or help, but none was forthcoming. The wizards around me didn’t care. Inhaling and exhaling, I calmed down a bit. Well, I’ll have to improvise. I’m not that hungry right now. I can wait.

 

To pass the time, I slipped into a light meditation and entered the Archive. However, I was interrupted by a fat man. Not just overweight, but fat. His layers of flesh jiggled as he walked, his belly almost touching the floor. His neck was nonexistent. His bald head was covered in an unpleasant sweat, and his small, deeply-set eyes darted in all directions. The apron that was supposed to hide all this was so greasy and dirty that you could practically feast on the leftover food clinging to it.

 

He slammed his hands on the table, trying to appear threatening.

 

“***!” he said something in his language. His voice was squeaky and annoying.

 

“I don’t understand you,” I replied. “Sorry.”

 

“***! ***!” he yelled louder and slammed his hands on the table again, attracting the attention of other patrons.

 

“Sorry, but I still don’t understand,” I calmly replied.

 

He turned red, and for a moment, I thought he might burst from anger. I didn’t want to be covered in his fat. Actually, I should have taken care to ensure people understood me, perhaps by finding a translator or at least a dictionary. Maybe this situation could have been avoided. But it is what it is.

 

The fat man snatched the menu from my hands and angrily pointed me toward the exit. Now that I understood. It seems he was telling me to get out. I’m not too proud; I’ll leave, but I’ll remember this treatment. Perhaps the customer isn’t always right, but there should be some basic respect. I wasn’t rude to him, didn’t insult him, and didn’t even raise my wand.

 

“I understand,” I nodded and stood up.

 

The wizard tried to grab my arm, but I didn’t let him, simply stepping aside. He quickly pretended nothing had happened and instead started shouting something in his language.

 

Turning sharply, I left the building, noticing that he tried to spit at me as I did. But he missed. Mentally calming myself, I stepped aside. I’m already starting to dislike this country. In one place, I’m attacked with the intent to kill, and in another, I’m thrown out of a restaurant without even an attempt to establish communication.

 

We’ll see what happens tomorrow. I won’t be without a roof over my head tonight. I’m a wizard, after all, which means I can create minimal comfortable conditions almost anywhere. Staying on this magical street might be dangerous, so I exited to the Muggle part of the city. I found a large park and quickly cast some Muggle-repelling charms around a small area. Only after that did I enlarge my bag and start creating a house around it. Transfiguration spells, followed by some household spells, and I had a cozy house with one room, a large bed, a table, a soft armchair, and a stove for cooking or reheating food. After enhancing the protection a bit more, I nodded in satisfaction. Now, no Muggle or animal would disturb my sleep. Any wizard would be stopped, and I would be immediately notified. If someone attacks, there will be a response, but not a strong one—just warning shots. Additionally, I placed a sign for wizards, stating that I was here for only one night.

 

The night passed peacefully without any incidents. When the sun rose, I was already tidying myself up and doing a bit of physical training. To freshen up, I conjured a small bath and then made it disappear. Wizards can travel conveniently and carefree.

 

Gathering all my belongings and attempting to restore the area to its previous state, I decided to return to the magical street and the meeting place with the master.

 

The weather was warm, and by noon it would become hot. The sun hinted at that.

 

Entering the restaurant, I immediately encountered that fat guy who had caused me so much trouble yesterday. As soon as our eyes met, he reached for his wand, hanging on a belt as dirty as his other clothes. Even his wand looked worn and battered.

 

It seems I’m not welcome here, so I slowly stepped back, leaving the restaurant. Well, I need to come up with another plan to get inside. Honestly, the way things are going doesn’t inspire much confidence. If it turns out that the master also insists on speaking only in the local language, then I’m in deep trouble. But first, I need to solve the problem of getting inside. I don’t think it should be that hard. Invisibility spell, concealment spell, silence spell, and a spell to mask my scent and body temperature. I cast a bunch of different spells on myself.

 

I slipped inside behind a witch and was pleased to see that no one intended to stop me. The fat man was now trying to appear as a friendly chubby guy, ready to give anything away for free.

 

Crouching, I moved aside and waited for the wizard I needed. The person who immediately drew attention entered at the appointed time. The fat guy almost groveled before him, which looked disgusting. The wizard himself didn’t look particularly attractive. He had a look I’d only seen in the children of powerful wizards, as if they were kings and everyone else was beneath them. His slicked-back dark hair, thin eyebrows that could have been drawn on, and overall… there was an unpleasant aura around him.

 

Slowly approaching him, I waited for him to notice or sense me, but nothing happened. Softly and barely noticeably, I sat down across from him. I think this is Edwin Jansen. If I’m wrong, that would be unfortunate. Well… here goes nothing.

 

When the fat guy wasn’t looking, I removed the invisibility and concealment spells. The wizard’s eyes widened in surprise, and he reached for his wand.

 

“Timothy Jody,” I quietly introduced myself. “Are you Edwin Jansen?”

 

I placed a letter in front of him, stating that I was supposed to begin my training.

 

“Yes, that’s me,” he nodded, responding in English with a slight accent. “But I’m not going to train you. You approached me without respect. You didn’t crawl on your knees, didn’t bring gifts… You didn’t even bow.”

 

He lifted his chin slightly. For a moment, I wanted to punch him so hard that it left a dent on his face. I had to calm myself down. I’m not going to kneel or crawl.

 

The silence dragged on as if he was waiting for me to apologize or beg him to take me as his apprentice for the month. But no… I’m not doing that. Even if it costs me the opportunity to train under a master. To be honest, after this brief interaction, I already realized that he wouldn’t be able to teach me anything worthwhile. But he would drive me crazy with his demands for respect, bows, and crawling on my knees.

 

“That’s why I’m not going to train you,” the wizard repeated, mockingly looking at me.

 

“Okay,” I nodded. “Is this an official refusal?”

 

“Yes,” he nodded.

 

“Then write it on the back,” I asked him.

 

“No,” he shook his head. “Who do you think you are to demand anything from me?”

 

“I need to inform the Guild that you refused to train me so they can find another master.”

 

“Whelp,” the wizard drawled, leaning slightly toward me. “Don’t think you’re smart. You won’t write to anyone… do you know why? As soon as I say so, you’ll be expelled from the Guild. That’s all…”

 

“I see,” I nodded.

 

Honestly, I wasn’t particularly afraid of being expelled. Yes, he might try to do that, and I might even be expelled, but that doesn’t mean I’d lose knowledge, power, or opportunities. Not at all. And if they expel me, it means they can take me back. But then I would be the one setting the terms.

 

Taking the paper, I stood up.

 

“It was nice meeting you,” I nodded to him.

 

I then re-cast the invisibility and concealment spells, disappearing from sight. Just then, the fat guy returned and started groveling before him again.

 

Edwin Jansen looked around, trying to spot me, but he couldn’t. The spells I used were strong. It seems I won’t be training under him. If only I knew any spells for tracking, I would attach one to him to find out where he lives. But unfortunately, I don’t know any such spells.

 

Sneaking out of the building, I moved aside and removed the spells, becoming visible again. Leaning against a tree, I had some troubling thoughts. If I don’t get the training, I’ll have a whole month completely free. I’m in Europe now, with no idea what to do. Should I go to Zurich to visit the library for Transfiguration materials? It’s not the time yet because I’d only gain access to knowledge equal to my rank. It’s better to reach the master rank and then go to the library.

 

So, I need to do something else. But what? That’s a good question. Maybe I’ll travel through the magical world…

 

At that moment, Edwin Jansen left the restaurant and immediately spotted me. A malicious grin appeared on his face. He spread his arms and said:

 

“Well? Crawl… Beg me… And maybe I’ll change my mind.”

 

“Screw you,” I snapped, unable to hold back.

 

“Hahaha,” he laughed loudly. “With that attitude, you’ll never reach the next ranks. Believe me. If you don’t lick and kiss the feet of those above you, you’ll never achieve anything. You’ll remain a weakling, a bastard who only cares about his pride.”

 

“I understand,” I nodded. “Take care.”

 

I won’t kneel before him. After that, I turned and headed back to the house with access to the Floo Network. The master also went about his business, likely pleased that he wouldn’t have to work with me and could do something else.

 

So, what should I do? The goblin who had helped me yesterday noticed me and nodded. I nodded back.

 

“Where you heading?” he asked.

 

“Back home,” I sighed. “The meeting didn’t go well.”

 

“It happens,” the goblin smirked. “Same price.”

 

After quickly paying, I stepped into the fireplace. The next moment, the green flames enveloped me, transporting me back to the main Gringotts building in the Netherlands. So, what I’ll do is stay here and continue to fill my archive, but first, I’ll study the section I received from that witch.

 

No one paid attention to me, so I calmly walked out onto the street and headed straight to a small guesthouse. The sign was in English, unlike many others.

 

Once inside, I found myself in a stylish hotel. The reception desk was manned by a sixteen-year-old girl. As soon as she saw me, she put down her fashion magazine and stood up.

 

“***?” she addressed me in the local language.

 

“Sorry, I don’t understand,” I replied in English.

 

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “What can I do for you?”

 

“A room for seven days,” I said calmly. “With the option to extend my stay.”

 

“That will be two Galleons and thirty-five Sickles,” she quickly replied.

 

A relatively cheap price compared to traveling via the goblin-operated Floo Network.

 

I paid without question.

 

The room wasn’t very big, but it was comfortable. Which was surprising because I didn’t expect it to be. After taking off some of my clothes, I collapsed onto the soft bed and relaxed. I wasn’t tired, so I began studying the witch’s section, as I had planned.

 

Diving into the Archive, I immediately headed for the new section that had formed near the Bolshakov section. But it looked entirely different. Skulls with a sinister red glow in the corners, books that didn’t look particularly friendly or even neutral.

 

Coming out of meditation, I took the Mind Sharpening potion and quickly consumed the first dose. After about five minutes, I felt my focus and attention increase, signaling that the potion was working. Now I could delve into the Archive and study that section.

 

As soon as I began, I was struck by a whirlwind of the witch’s memories, from her childhood when she learned the language to when she enrolled in a magical school and eventually opened her small shop.

 

Along with that came her knowledge and various actions that didn’t align with the law. This woman, named Anneke Black, was a truly twisted individual, obsessed with increasing her personal power. She had performed every dark ritual imaginable to become stronger. This included devouring children, copulating with demons, and draining the life out of Muggles. All of it required the darkest rituals, which were disgusting. It’s good that I remained wary of her because she would sometimes send travelers to her basement for meat rather than their intended destination.

 

Discarding the information about her personal life and preferences, I retained only the knowledge that slowly became part of my own. The most interesting thing was that I quickly learned the language she spoke while analyzing the information. Then there were the various bits of knowledge Anneke had acquired from numerous sources, even demonic ones.

 

When I returned to myself, I felt unwell—slightly weak and with a nosebleed. To recover, I headed to the shower. Under the warm water, I regained my physical and mental strength.

 

I cast a spell to check the time and was surprised. It was four in the morning the next day. How much time had I spent in meditation and the Archive? A lot, but the results were worth it. The growth of knowledge in unconventional magic is invaluable…

 

Actually, why don’t I use this ability of my Archive on other, more knowledgeable wizards? Why don’t I just take them down, figuratively speaking, and then study their books in the Archive? My knowledge would grow so fast!

 

After thinking about it for a while, I concluded that it would be the smartest choice because it would be the easy way out. I already have the Archive, which allows me to learn information much faster than any other wizard. But gaining the lifetime knowledge of another wizard… that’s not just easy; it’s like having a key to any lock of success. But for some reason, I feel that advancing magical science into unknown territories would be much harder. And I would like to earn some recognition, just like any other person, wizard or not.

 

So, I’ll rarely use this method of gaining knowledge—only when someone’s knowledge is vital, interesting, and rare, and no one can discover the crime.

 

Returning to bed, I fell into an uneasy sleep, haunted by Anneke’s memories. They weren’t pleasant at all, so I woke up the next morning in a bit of a daze. After washing my face with cold water, I finally calmed down a bit.