It was nighttime inside the Potions Shop in Diagon Alley. The dim light of a few candles filled the store, casting soft shadows on the shelves. Luke put down the inkless quill he'd been using and stretched, feeling the day's work settle in his bones.
Except for the customer from Knockturn Alley, the shop had been quiet this afternoon. It was a slow day, and he'd only managed to earn ten gold Galleons, a meager sum compared to the bustling Lihen Bookstore across the street, which was still teeming with wizards.
Even Hermione, usually a bookworm, had taken a break from her studies to buy some magazines. Most were about the wizarding world, like the upcoming Quidditch match or Minister Cornelius Fudge's latest policies, which Hermione found to be rather foolish.
"Minister of Magic," she whispered to herself, her mind wandering.
"It's a long road ahead," Hermione sighed.
The Minister of Magic was elected through strength and prestige, not to mention having to win the support of the magical community. Hermione couldn't help but think that she'd be as old as Fudge by the time she even had a shot at the position.
"Don't worry about the future. Focus on the present," Luke said, strolling over to her and ruffling her hair. He put his notes on her desk and pushed aside the magazine she'd just bought. "It's time to study."
Luke's tone was firm, and Hermione knew better than to argue. "But alchemy has nothing to do with the Minister of Magic," she protested, though she picked up the thick notebook nonetheless.
Luke had organized the steps of alchemy, the meanings of the runes, and the necessary skills into his notes. After spending so much time with Hermione, he'd developed the habit of jotting down thoughts and ideas unconsciously.
As Hermione flipped through the notebook, her eyes sparkled with understanding. She found that she could grasp the concepts easily, and some of the words were even thoughtfully annotated. There were even speculations about the meanings of certain runes.
"Let's start with the basics, the production of magical objects," Luke said, turning the Minister Fudge newspaper into a high chair with a flick of his wand. He sat down beside Hermione and began to explain the principles of alchemy.
In simple terms, alchemy involved converting magic spells into runes and inscribing them onto objects. This imbued the items with magical properties. It was a fundamental aspect of magical studies, but for some reason, no one had ever compiled all the practical spells into a single object. It was a mystery that intrigued Luke.
"We can transcribe the Protego spell into ancient runes or glyphs," Luke explained, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he delved into his lecture. "Then, we can engrave them onto small and exquisite items like rings, allowing for direct activation when needed."
"Of course, I haven't had the chance to experiment with this spell—"
Luke's words came to an abrupt halt as he noticed Hermione, who had at some point leaned against his shoulder, now fast asleep. Her smart brown eyes were closed, and the steady rhythm of her breathing filled the air.
As Luke observed her peacefully sleeping form, a hint of confusion crept into his thoughts. Had his lecture been so dull that Hermione had drifted off without him even noticing?
Luke couldn't help but pounder upon this unexpected turn of events. With Hermione asleep, he decided it was best to carry her to her bedroom.
Gently tucking her into bed and extinguishing the lights he went out his mind still buzzing with thoughts about the Protego.
With a silent spell cast on Hermione's room, Luke set to work in his own, transforming a piece of wood into a ring and meticuLukesly inscribing the spell onto it. The night wore on, with sleep eluding him as he focused on his task.
As dawn broke and the sun peeked through the window, Hermione stirred awake, feeling refreshed after a night of deep slumber. Stretching comfortably, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of Luke's efforts to ensure her comfort.
"Wake up!" she called out, receiving no response. After a few more attempts, Hermione reluctantly gave up, muttering to herself about Luke's laziness.
After freshening up in the bathroom, Hermione made her way to the store's lobby, ready to start the day. But her steps faltered as she entered the hall and saw Luke sprawled on the sofa, his handsome face smudged with black ashes, and his once-immaculate blond hair in disarray.
"Luke!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing over to him with a mix of concern and amusement evident in her voice. "You fell asleep here?"
Relieved to find him merely sleeping, Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at the sight before her, grateful for their shared camaraderie amidst the magical chaos of their lives.
Miss Hermione found herself puzzled by Luke's current appearance. Her thoughts swirled in incomprehension.
Perhaps her inquiry had been a tad too Luked, as Luke, half-opening his eyes, spotted the girl standing before him.
"Good morning dear," he greeted with a yawn, rising from the sofa and running a hand through his messy hair, a testament to a possibly eventful night.
Luke discovered that while things seemed straightforward in theory, putting them into practice was an entirely different challenge. He now understood why convenient magic items were scarce—stability issues plagued his attempts. The previous night's endeavors in carving a ring resulted in multiple explosions, and converting magic spells into runes proved uncontrollable, causing the rings to detonate.
"Come and stretch out your hand!" he invited, chuckling, to the still-dazed Hermione.
"What?" she questioned, complying by extending her small, white palm.
Luke then produced a silver ring adorned with various mysterious runes from his pocket and slid it onto her middle finger.
This time, Hermione's ears tinged with red, and she averted her gaze from Luke's pale blue eyes, uncertain of his intentions.
"Just the right size!" Luke remarked, satisfied with his successful creation of the Protego-embedded ring.
After explaining the process to Hermione, he noticed her disbelief as she stared at the ring on her finger, a mixture of emotions filling her.
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