After the battle, the crowd gradually dispersed.
Everyone had gained a new topic of discussion—just where exactly was Karmit Black's limit?
Of course, those discussions led nowhere.
After finishing off his opponents, Karmit returned once again to the Room of Requirement.
After stating his needs in the corridor, he looked at the wall with a hint of anticipation.
But after nearly a full minute, there was still no reaction.
Karmit frowned.
Had he guessed wrong?
Just then, a series of clicking sounds came from the wall.
A door appeared—completely different from the one he had seen the day before.
Karmit's eyes lit up.
He quickly pushed it open.
Inside was a room that wasn't very large. And inside that room, there was only a single table, standing alone.
On the table lay a carving knife and a stack of wooden boards.
Karmit frowned.
"Not here?"
What he had asked for was a place to practice and study magical sigils.
According to his reasoning, if Hogwarts truly had a sigil inheritance that even a former Headmaster like Phineas hadn't discovered, then it could only be in the Room of Requirement.
But now, it seemed that wasn't the case.
Karmit walked up to the table and looked at the carving knife and wooden boards.
He shook his head.
Forget it. If he couldn't find it, then so be it. The Black family's collection was more than enough for now.
Since he was already here, he might as well try carving some sigils himself.
He had been studying magical sigils for quite some time now, and with his excellent memory, he had already mastered most of the theory.
At the very least, he knew all the basics. He just hadn't actually carved any himself yet.
This was the perfect opportunity to see what sigils were really about.
Karmit sat down in the chair and picked up a wooden board. Holding the carving knife, he thought for a moment.
He decided to carve a very simple sigil.
Its only function was to generate heat. Just a mild warmth to the touch, nothing more.
The function was deliberately simple because this sigil was formed by combining just two basic sigil lines.
For a first attempt, Karmit had no intention of increasing the difficulty.
Holding the knife, he began carving carefully.
The process went smoothly. Following the sigil patterns in his mind, he slowly traced the lines onto the wooden board.
But just as he reached the final stroke— His hand paused slightly.
In the next instant, all the lines he had carved on the board vanished.
Karmit frowned.
"Did I use too much force?"
He didn't get discouraged. Instead, he tried again, this time being even more careful.
Stroke by stroke, he carved patiently.
When he reached the final line, Karmit focused completely. The carving deepened bit by bit.
The knife slid across the board, and the last stroke was completed.
At the exact moment the sigil was fully formed, Karmit felt a warm current surge through his arm.
It flowed straight into the wooden board in his hand.
The board began to heat up.
Karmit stared at his arm in surprise.
What was that just now?
He set the board aside and picked up another one. Using the same carving method, he worked through the sigil again.
This time, as the sigil formed, Karmit focused entirely on sensing his body.
That warm current appeared again in his arm. It flashed past in an instant, but Karmit felt it clearly.
He looked at the sigil in his hand, deep in thought.
'What exactly was that warm current?'
Karmit recalled what Phineas had said—those Black family members who studied sigils always failed at the moment the sigil was completed.
Then he thought of how he had succeeded.
'Was it because of that warm current?' He pondered it for a long time, but reached no conclusion.
In the end, he gave up thinking about it for now.
There was simply too little information. He needed to find someone who understood magical sigils.
At that moment, one person came to mind.
This person might not know much about sigils themselves, but they should know something about their history.
Cuthbert Binns.
Hogwarts' History of Magic professor. A ghost who had been teaching at Hogwarts since the school's founding.
If there was anyone at Hogwarts who knew the most about the past, it was him.
Coincidentally, Karmit had History of Magic that afternoon. He felt that this ghost professor might know some inside details.
He put away the two sigil-engraved wooden boards and checked the time.
Then he left the Room of Requirement and headed straight for the History of Magic classroom on the second floor.
When Karmit arrived, there were only a few students inside.
Several first-year Ravenclaws were scattered around, heads down, writing something. This class was another joint lesson between Slytherin and Ravenclaw.
Hermione was already there as well.
Karmit narrowed his eyes slightly..It now seemed he could confirm his earlier suspicion.
Interesting.
He turned his attention to Hermione and thought for a moment before walking over.
Seeing Karmit approach, Hermione looked puzzled.
"You're here so early?"
"I saw that class was about to start, so I came over," Karmit replied.
Hermione nodded. "I thought you wouldn't be very interested in History of Magic."
"That's true," Karmit said. "But it's on the exams. By the way, Hermione, has your family always lived in London?"
Hermione set down her quill.
"I think so. Why?"
"Nothing," Karmit replied. "Just curious."
Hermione thought for a moment. "My family should have always lived in London. Though I remember my dad mentioning that our family history is fairly old.
My great-great-grandfather seems to have experienced something significant, but I don't really know the details."
A sharp glint flashed in Karmit's eyes.
He didn't continue that line of conversation.
More students gradually filled the classroom. When the bell rang, Professor Binns drifted into the room right on time.
Yes, drifted.
He passed straight through the wall.
Hermione's eyes widened. "My goodness. I thought the History of Magic ghost professor was just a nickname. He's actually a ghost."
Karmit smiled faintly.
Professor Binns settled at the lectern without a word and began the lesson.
Calling it a lesson was generous.
In Karmit's view, it was pure reading.
No changes in tone. No emphasis. Just a monotone stream of facts. Like a bedtime story read by a parent when you couldn't sleep.
Except this storyteller had absolutely no emotion.
But the hypnotic effect was exactly the same. The Slytherin students were already starting to nod off.
__________
Upto 20 chapters ahead on patreon :-
patreon.com/Xorath