Flitwick touched a pair of runes in the circuit with his wand, and it glowed blue. The professor didn't remove his wand because it needed a flow of magic to test it.
"So..." the professor whispered quietly, covering his eyes. "Magic absorption... works."
I could feel it clearly, too. There are small leaks in the circuit, but through them, you can understand if the accumulator is absorbing magic and how much of what is being fed to it. All of it, by the feel of it.
"Absorption... In full," the professor voiced my thoughts. "Speed..."
Flitwick was clearly thinking, calculating something in his mind.
"Above average. Yes... Slightly above average... Let's fill it to the brim..."
Flitwick stood motionless in front of the working scheme of the ritual for about thirty minutes. His stamina is exemplary - not everyone is capable of standing still for so long, especially being mentally focused on a rather complex and abstract task.
But nothing lasts forever - and neither did Flitwick. With a deep breath and an exhale, the professor withdrew his wand from the ritual circuit, and it went out. Except that the accumulator of three transparent quartz pancakes continued to glow faintly and even shimmer like the glare on the water.
"Not bad, not bad at all," the professor proclaimed in a slightly tired voice and nodded to himself. "It's just great! Everything works just fine! We've got enough magic for a dozen very decent Patronuses in the Pulse modification..."
Flitwick whirled happily around the table, looking nothing like the wise old Charms Master. But, he quickly pulled himself together and stood beside us, looking at the accumulator.
"Let's leave it for a week and see if it discharges and how much."
"You have no doubt it will?"
"Absolutely, Miss Granger, absolutely. The magical functioning of an object is somehow tied to the presence of magic in or around it. We have the cost calculations, and they clearly show that the costs exceed the average magical background for England. But at Hogwarts, the background is higher. But we'll put it in an environment without magic, and we can watch for leaks if there are any and the period of a full discharge. But anyhow, my dears, it's an unequivocal success!"
We spent the next half hour discussing the already much-negotiated nuances of development rights and whatnot. Flitwick didn't want anything out of it at all, well, except ten percent of the profits from the product's sale, if there ever was any. Although the professor is an idealist who sees beauty, if not in everything, then in many things, but he is also well aware that wizards, and people in general, are rather aggressive creatures, and such a development, as a magic accumulator, can serve both good and bad purposes. But that's the way it is with every development - first for the military, then for civilians.
"Hasn't it occurred to you, Mr. Knight, to close off access to the development entirely, so as to increase the influence of you and your family, along with the power?" he asked as we drank tea and discussed various nuances in the professor's office.
"No," I shook my head. "You yourself understand that it's just me and my aunt's portrait. And I don't intend to «influence» the world. I prefer personal power in order to translate into reality the phrase: «Whoever comes to us with a sword is easier to shoot.» I'm going to travel, explore the world, fight off dissatisfied with master's degrees and other achievements. And look for yourself — what's the point of keeping everything to yourself?"
The Professor and Hermione looked at me curiously.
"In the Middle Ages, various developments and innovations appeared as if from a cornucopia. Wizards developed the concept of intellectual property and patent much earlier than ordinary people. Five or ten years of exclusive rights to use or manufacture, and then the novelty went to the market or mass production at a small percentage of deductions. And after the Statute? Everyone is taking everything for themselves. Developments remain in families under strict secrecy, become a family asset. As a result, they wander from the defeated to the winner, remaining no less secret. And what's the point? We have pronounced stagnation. Only recently has a movement begun in the direction of a scientific approach to magic and the beginning of collective research activities to bring research to the public and for use."
"I see..." nodded Flitwick.
"There. I'm sure many brilliant minds have faced the problem of a trivial lack of magic in their practical research. Needless to say, look at Mr. Arthur Weasley. He's an undeniable genius at enchantment. He has enchanted his car far better than the Knight Bus, but he is not a strong wizard because of his psychology. I bet if he had an abundance of magic, we could see far more interesting enchantments in his performance. The same goes for everyone else. All the brilliant, varied, versatile, and large-scale research into magic has been done by powerful wizards. But what obstacles do you think they have met?"
"You tell me, Mr. Knight. Or you, Miss Granger."
Hermione straightened up a little and looked at me.
"You go ahead," I nodded.
"Well... If you consider serious work and research and not petty nonsense like a self-soaping rag, which, for some reason, has to be yellow..."
Flitwick literally grunted, suppressing a chuckle, and Hermione continued her thought:
"...Then it should be noted - they are all extremely magic-intensive. And they're all completely Dark. Dark down to the last rune. The lack of magic for grandiose and large-scale experiments forced wizards to go to extreme measures. A prime example is Ekrizdis. His writings and research are fundamental in many ways, though some are distinctly incomplete. It seems to me that his need for a lot of magic led him to Dark rituals and sacrifices. Perhaps towards the end of his life, because of Dark Magic, Ekrizdis went a little... mad. Completely mad. That's why his last writings reek of madness."
"There's also Flamel," I nodded. "I don't think the Philosopher's Stone is a 'light' product. And there are plenty of such examples. As a result - one went mad and died alone in his fortress on the island, the other - most of his life running from annoying envious people. In general, as I understood from some historical sources, the same Guilds were created not so much as communities of wizards on interests, defending each other's rights and helping each other in different ways, but also for collective rituals and magical manipulations. But they, too, have gone to the same extreme as ordinary wizard families, saying: «We have calculated, we have conjured - it's ours, we won't let anyone else have it.» It's a good thing things are slowly improving, or we'll soon be stuck in this stagnation."
"You know, Mr. Knight, I'm glad we've come to an understanding on this matter," the little professor said as he sat back in his chair. "I was going to suggest doing things the old-fashioned way myself, with exclusive rights for five years and patents. I was afraid I'd have to convince you of that, even though I'm the scientific director of the project. Now that we've come to a common denominator, I dare to take care of the paperwork and other bureaucratic nuances while you, Mr. Knight, Miss Granger are free to prepare for your examinations. As for the rights to all the unique developments involved in the project, we've already negotiated, and they're yours."
After such a momentous occasion, we... Didn't do anything. We just went off to gather material for future articles, to get our knowledge established, to storm the usual section of the library to pick up material for exams, and to catch up on knowledge for the sixth and seventh years.