The completed tal magic book emitted a magical aura even more dazzling than the original, continuously radiating intense magical fluctuations.
There was no helping the lack of subtlety; after all, this was a replicated version. Alan had prioritized raw practicality and durability in its craftsmanship, and since it lacked the natural, centuries-old perfection of the original, a certain amount of magic leakage was inevitable. However, as long as the internal reservoirs were regularly replenished, its functional effects were nearly identical to the Travers heirloom.
With the construction finished, one final step remained. Alan pulled out his specialized hamr, switched to the strengthening head, and vigorously pounded the "tal brick." Under the heavy impacts, the book's wild aura beca subdued and focused. The runes and formations achieved a deeper fusion with the alloy, tightening the magical channels between the different spell layers and significantly reducing the energy bleed.
Then, it was ti for the labor of transcription. Alan began the painstaking process of transferring the records of various spells from the original magic book to his silver-tallic counterpart. Seeing this, yulia beca frantic. It was bad enough that he was copying the forbidden arts, but now he was stealing the usage logs—records that contained the most sensitive secrets of her bloodline. She scrambled forward to intervene.
"Wait! It's one thing to take the spells, but you cannot have those records! They are the private results of my family's research over generations! How dare you—"
"Be quiet!" Alan turned on her, his eyes cold and lethal. He had reached the end of his patience with the woman. From the mont he had stepped into the library, she had done nothing but offer snide remarks and petty obstacles. "Enough nonsense. Our agreent stated that any knowledge I favored was mine to take. You have no right to resist. In my eyes, the Travers family is no different from a cockroach beneath my boot. You should be praying that I'm in a good enough mood not to crush you once I'm done here."
Alan sneered and returned to his work. Stunned by the naked threat and broken by days of mounting terror and exhaustion, yulia collapsed onto the floor, weeping miserably. Alan felt no pity; her noisy lantations were rely an annoyance. He cast a localized Silencing Charm around her and continued his transcription.
The hexes, jinxes, and dark curses flowed easily into the tal book through his copying charms. The only true difficulty lay with the ancient primordial lightning rune. Because it contained such a massive concentration of raw energy and hadn't been broken down into a standard incantation, the rune was essentially unique. This was exactly why Lucius Malfoy had trusted yulia to store it within the book's specialized containnt layers.
Since he didn't have the ti to analyze the primordial structure properly, Alan opted for a direct extraction. The tal magic book, forged from a hoard of precious alchemical materials, didn't disappoint; it accepted the lightning rune with relative ease. Once the transfer was complete, the corresponding page in the original Travers book was left entirely blank.
Alan didn't stop there. He moved on to the rare volus he had selected from the shelves. When he reached "Endless Darkness," he realized that ordinary parchnt wouldn't be able to hold the book's reactive enchantnts. He simply transcribed it into the tal book as well, consolidating his most dangerous assets into a single, indestructible volu.
Two more hours passed. Including the Slytherin manuscripts, Alan finally finished copying all three hundred docunts. They were rare, powerful texts—the kind that simply didn't exist in the public world. He stood and stretched, his body screaming with fatigue after twenty-two hours in the library. He ignored the dejected woman on the floor and walked straight out of the Travers manor.
Back at the Longbottom estate, Alan spent two days in deep, restorative sleep. He spent the following few days relaxing with Augusta and Neville, using the quiet ti to sort through his massive haul of materials and categorize his new library.
Finally, the day of the Ministry's celebration banquet arrived. Dressed in a sharp, ink-colored formal suit, Alan walked into the living room to find Augusta already waiting, dressed in her own finest robes.
"Aren't you asking the house-elf to look after Neville today?" Alan asked, surprised.
"No, it's not good for the boy to stay cooped up at ho all the ti," Augusta said, smoothing her skirts. "He should co out and see the world. Look, I even had a small suit made for him."
She pulled Neville out from behind her. The toddler was neatly dressed, his hair ticulously combed. Alan smiled and picked the boy up. Then, realizing the logistics, he asked, "How are we getting there? Neville is too young for the sensation of Apparition, and I've never seen anyone carry a child through the Floo Network."
"Don't worry," Augusta smiled. "I planned for us to take Muggle transportation, which is why I insisted we get ready so early."
Alan nodded, and the three of them set off. As noon approached, they re-entered the Ministry of Magic. The Atrium was a sea of chaos. A literal wall of reporters blocked the entrance, their caras at the ready.
The mont Alan and Augusta appeared, a roar went up from the crowd. "There he is! The hero! It's Alan Wilson!"
Flashbulbs erupted in a blinding sequence. Neville, startled by the noise and the sudden wall of light, burst into tears. Before the situation could spiral, Vanessa Greengrass squeezed through the throng and pulled them toward the elevators.
"rlin's beard! Why is there such a mob today?" Augusta asked, dizzy from the commotion as she tried to soothe the crying child.
"You can thank Alan for that," Vanessa said, rolling her eyes at him.
"?" Alan asked, genuinely bewildered by the scale of the reception.
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