31 October 1990
The first initial weeks of school had been a slough for Robert. It was not that most of the classes were not teaching anything. No, it was for the fact that Robert had self-studying magic from a young age, from whatever interest he had at the time. He hid the fact that he was far and away beyond what the courses were teaching him, never being the first to achieve something, leaving that to his classmates.
That was also ignoring the fact that the essays required by the teachers, while for a child would be considered long, were something that with his own knowledge was something he could write in minutes, versus the hour or so that others needed. This allowed him to focus on other things.
His workshop was already starting to producing different pieces. And with the way that his grandfather had taught him, Robert did everything manually. And he was stating to notice something while he methodically, nearly ritualistically, went about his craft. He was drawing out the magic from the wood, cleansing it. It was a slow process, and something he wanted to see if he could, in the future, do without the despairingly slow way he was doing it now.
As for his spell casting, Robert was still trying to figure out how each strand of magic, and each twist and combining of those strands helped to form the spell. Without proper terminology on what he was doing, he was having to create his own, for each permutation. Luckily though, the spell work in the classes he was taking were simplistic in nature, using few strands of magic, with simple knots and such. Controlling the strands themselves, and without the taint of others, his spells had much more impact, than those in his classes, which Robert attempted to hide as much as possible. Eventually, he hoped to wield magic freely, using only his instinct.
Potions, unfortunately had not been as great as he could wish. Yes, he was noticing, with his sense of magic, that each ingredient had many different magically strands in them, but he was still in the dark on how to use his abilities to "profit" in creating potions. From what Robert could tell, when brewing each potion, ingredients were purified from unwanted properties, using heat or stirring methods, which when combined with the other ingredients, transforming the original strands into something completely different. Potions were, to his sense, a Gordian knot of the final strands of magic in the potion.
Robert was progressing in his self-studies to a degree that he was content with at this point in time. The only thing that he was regretting, was the lack of music in the wizarding world. Yes, the society had its own radio network. But the fact that the society was insular and without many people, the music was lackluster. And with how the society was isolated from the muggle society, especially due to the "pure" blood dogmatism, there was no bleed over into the magical society.
Robert had decided early on that he was going to purchase some muggle records and a gramophone so that he could actually enjoy music while he was working in his workshop. And the only reason that he had decided on a gramophone, was that it was entirely mechanical, meaning that magic would have no adverse effects on that piece of equipment. That led on to one other project that he wanted to create, a magical record player. The ever present list of things that he wanted to accomplish, continually grew.
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At breakfast, on the ninth anniversary of the defeat of you-know-who, Lord Voldermort, other than the joy of what that day marked, it was a normal Wednesday morning. The mirth that the children, and most of the staff, excluding Professor Snape and Filch, pervaded throughout the Great Hall. And like normal, the morning deliveries from owls came in.
As Robert only wrote to his family once a week, and they like him, also only wrote once a week, he was not expecting anything for himself. Lost in his own thoughts, he did not notice the approaching hawk. It was not until one of the first year Hufflepuff boys, Mickey Dukas, that that the letter from the hawk was for him. The appearance of a hawk quickly became the talk of the Great Hall, for the fact that a hawk was used only for official, and important, notices from Gringotts. Normal, everyday, correspondence from Gringotts was delivered by owls, like every other things.
With a screech, the hawk landed in from of Robert. Unlike owls, which carried correspondence in their talons, the hawk had a round container worn by it, sealed to prevent adverse conditions to effect whatever they carried.
"Now, what do you have for me?" questioned Robert, as he reached for the missive from Gringotts. Yes, he was a pure blood, but he was not of any importance.
'Mr Dresden, you are being notified that to come to Gringotts at your earliest time available. Please respond to when you are to come.
'Gringotts Account Manager
'Gornuk'
"What's that about Robbie?" One of the Hufflepuff children that surrounded Robert asked.
"I've been summoned by Gringotts. No idea what it's about." Answered Robert in truthfulness. He really had no idea what the summons was about. Like always with goblins, they used their time efficiently, and with correspondences, used as few words as necessary. Turning his head to the awaiting hawk, he said, "you don't need to wait for me for anything. It will take me a few days to respond."
And with another screech, the hawk stretched out its wings and flew away.
He needed to write to his mother, and talk to Professor Sprout to find a time where he could leave the school and go to the meeting at Gringotts. With what little that Robert knew about goblins, he knew that the earlier, the better when it came to working with goblins, it showed respect to them, for what little most wizards and witches gave to their diminutive race. It was best to not be rude to a race that could cuckhold the whole of wizarding society, with the goblins being the ones that held nearly all the gold.
A letter to his mother first. Professor Sprout should be able to acquiesce to his departure from school since it was an official summons from Gringotts, especially when it would be with his mother's permission.
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When Robert had time between class he sent the letter off to his mother, asking him to also invite his family's lawyer, since he knew that he was ignorant of many of the details of laws in British wizarding society. It was better to be over prepared in this type of situation, instead of being caught flat footed. His lack of exposure to many of the laws in this society would almost definitely be a detriment if he tried to hand this situation on his own.
Before herbology class started, Robert spoke to Professor Sprout. "Professor, I got a letter from Gringotts today, a summons."
"Do you know when you are leaving?" In her normal professor voice, Professor Sprout responded.
"I just sent off a letter to my mother, asking for help setting up a meeting. I'll let you know when I have a date and time it."
"Let me know as soon as you can."
"I asked her to set it up for during a weekend, so I don't miss any classes, if that works for everyone."
"Thanks dear, for letting me know. You can use the floo access in my office and come and go for the meeting. Just let me know as soon as you can."
"Thanks Professor.
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I'm putting this story on an indefinite hiatus. I've been trying to work on this chapter for the past couple weeks. I think I've written and deleted it more than a dozen times. I could, at this current time, force it to work, but I wouldn't be happy with the story itself. One of the biggest problems is that I didn't write down a full outline for what I wanted the story to be, to keep me on target on major plot points. That, and as of this point, this is a power fantasy or a "self"-insert, which is disingenuous.
On fanfactionDOTnet "We're in this Together" by Zugrian. It's a Harry/Pansy novel starting from first year. Pansy's bitchiness works well in this story and is definitely a worth to check it out