HP: Spirit Talker

POV Filius Flitwick

— That's right. — The Japanese man's voice sounded firm and his gaze literally nailed him to the ground. Ronald even averted his eyes. — While I'm at it, I'll make sure that no one even thinks of getting up. — The Golden Trio nodded in unison, sitting under the wall in rather comfortable and upholstered chairs, in runic circles, the meaning of which Hermione didn't understand. — It's important. — Another hard stare that made Ron and Harry swallow loudly, and Hermione nodded.

— You wanted to see some serious magic, and you will see it, but only if you meet my conditions. If you make any noise or run around under my hand, I'll throw you out the window. Is that clear? — It would seem that the look could be much harsher, but no, there was a lot, even Snape, the earth to him, remembered. And Hermione even remembered that they were on the fourth floor of the castle, with ceilings three and a half meters high, plus the cellar, plus the slope outside the window, so the threat to the curious witch had a stronger effect on the curious witch than the two fans of flying on a broomstick.

— That's it. Sit still and be quiet while the esteemed professor and I get to work. — Hoshino bowed politely to the acknowledged master of charms, duelist, and just plain curious half-blood.

Professor Flitwick, grinning into his black moustache, just shook his head as he waved his wand. He didn't like this kind of attitude towards children, but he recognized that the three of them could be a problem.

Their general intemperance and impulsiveness had gotten them into trouble more than once. So the half-goblin remained silent, expressing his disapproval rather modestly, but he could see from Sora's eyes that his gesture was well received. Flitwick was even surprised when McGonagall appeared, personally bringing him four of her "lion cubs".

Unrecognized because of his origins, the Master of Wizardry did not immediately understand what they wanted from him, but when he did, he was delighted! Minerva had long since given up on the advancement of science, but Filius, like his faculty, never missed a chance to see/learn something new and interesting.

He agreed to be an observer at an unknown ritual, but the condition was that he participate in the observation of five "ravens" — the head and three more of the best, and then the list would be supplemented with a few more students.

The professor watched Hoshino's work with great interest and pleasure. Accuracy of his actions, confidence in his work — the man noticed it at once. Rumors are rumors, but when you see it with your own eyes, it's a different matter. Flitwick had no doubt that the boy was an expert at his work, but he was still a bit weak in spells, but he was making progress.

Waves of trembling air spread out in a wide front, but they did not touch the ritual structures on the ground. A bouquet of white glowing thick lines spread out in loops, encircling the ritual. A few more complex passes, words spoken quickly and in a whisper, and a wide yellow ribbon stretched out from the master's wand, soaking into the stone floor, an instant shield capable of cutting off anything inside the ring for two full seconds.

The man and the students shifted their gaze to Hoshino, who had just finished drawing something in the air. There's a circular movement, a burst of magic, and some kind of hieroglyph hanging in the air that looks like several snakes crawling from top to bottom.

The hieroglyph burns with an orange light, surrounded by a perfect circle. A wave of the wand and the figure is on the ground. Two lines diverge from the circle with the hieroglyph to the sides, forming two more hieroglyphs in circles at the same distance, and then another, for a total of four symbols burning in different colors. Flitwick looked at Hoshino as he walked calmly toward the center.

The man felt the man's magic cut off his structures from the ritual, as all twelve of the observation and analysis loops the professor had qualitatively disguised burned away in a short pulse.

Such a level made the half-goblin see this student in a new light. No, he had already seen the obvious talent and diligence when he studied with Hoshino, but this was more serious. Now he could see why Professor Dumbledore had taken notice of the boy. The Ravenclaws were whispering quietly off to the side, discussing what they had seen and making notes in their notebooks with ordinary Muggle pencils.

Here, Hoshino stood in one of the ritual's drawn circles, and in the center of it lay a meter-long stone, square in shape and seven centimeters thick. On the stone was a silver robe belonging to the Potter family. To the surprise of those present, there is no wand in the Japanese man's hands. Sora raises his hands in front of him at chest height, open palms facing up.

Nothing happens for a few seconds, but everyone watches with keen interest. A smooth movement of hand and arm, a gentle push from himself and a leisurely circular movement of the whole arm fills the entire left side of the ritual circle with power and glow. The exact same motion with the right hand fully activates the main ritual structures.

Another dozen of Flitwick's analyzers, professionally and covertly sent to the side of the circle, burned in a split second in the pale yellow shield that appeared right in front of the half-blood. The Japanese didn't react, but the Ravenclaws openly recorded the event in their notebooks.

Filius Flitwick immediately realized that he would have to spend a lot of effort and money to keep the Japanese from explaining their miscalculation, or else Deap's authority would be tarnished. Sora, meanwhile, began to whisper something, but the low rumble that had risen, as well as the barrier and volume of his voice, obscured the words of an adverb that no one present knew anyway.

At that moment, the boy's slender, dexterous fingers bent in unimaginable ways, forming a series of mudras that activated more and more elements. Hoshino acted in a steady rhythm, and at regular intervals, rings of different colors and shades were manifested above the hieroglyphs in the circle.

When the last ring, the twentieth, was formed, a deep black with blue smoke billowing around it, the Japanese deftly twisted his hands again, folding another mudra, and on each finger of his hands two glowing threads formed, connecting the rings to him.

The boy folded his palms in a prayerful gesture, and a soft blue glow formed between them. As his hands moved apart, a ball of light with the threads attached grew between his palms. At one point, the right palm broke away from the bludger-sized ball, while the left palm was completely immersed in it.

A glow appeared around the hand inside the ball, and in a matter of seconds, the left palm settled on the second ball, which was the size of an apple and covered in hieroglyphics.

With his right hand, Sora began to point at each ring in turn. As he lowered his outstretched index and middle fingers to the ground and raised them smoothly, a slab of light "grew" at each ring, and four translucent "windows" appeared around Sora himself, along which columns of hieroglyphs "ran" from top to bottom. The Japanese lowered his right hand and began to control the ritual with the ball of light — it was noticeable by the movements of his palm and fingers.

The next hours became a test for the restless students who decided to attend. Nothing new or interesting happened. Obeying the movements of the Japanese, rings of light approached the robe, penetrated it, and for some time simply rotated around its axis, in the "windows" in front of the face of the extremely concentrated and attentive Hoshino appeared incomprehensible symbols, scribbles, lines of diagrams, and some scales.

After an hour and a half of methodical study, more than half of the rings were dispersed, and a few more rose from their vertical position to stand horizontally, sinking to the floor and surrounding the pedestal with the mantle. Four rings: rich green, golden blue, pure light blue, and silver, "probed" the invisible mantle for two hours, speeding up, slowing down, changing angles of inclination, or releasing sparks and smoke.

Some of the data from the "windows" was automatically transferred to the prepared thick roll of dense snow-white paper, twenty centimeters wide. At the fourth hour, Sora gently returned the rings to their original places, lowered the plates of light, dispelled the rings, pulled his hand out of the ball of light, and with a few words in a tired voice, ended the ritual. Sora put the rolled up scroll into a leather pouch, which he hid in a bag over his shoulder.

Only then did the man extinguish the protective barrier and immediately a clear water bottle appeared in his hand, which Sora emptied in one go. To say that most of the people present wanted to take a look at the findings would be a gross understatement.

Luckily, the pragmatic Ravenclaws had identified their negotiator beforehand, so as not to waste time at the crucial moment. The Head of the Faculty had already made his way to the man finishing his water, when he was overtaken by his own Dean.

Hermione wisely decided to wait, as she now had a much closer relationship with this 'treasure trove', and the girl not unreasonably believed that she would be able to persuade her employer to show the data.