Chapter 66: Chapter 66
o—o—o—o—o—o—o
Milo waited for Friday to roll around with ever-increasing anxiety and anticipation. His time was entirely taken up with classes, spell research (Milo decided to start researching Benign Transposition, a handy 1st-level spell that swaps the positions of a pair of willing creatures), and magic item crafting. The latter was proving increasingly frustrating: one of the oft-forgotten requirements in creating a magic item was that, during the creation process the crafter or an assistant has to cast whichever spell the magic item most closely replicates. Normally, this is no problem at all—for a small charge, any item crafter could hire a high-level Cleric or Wizard to cast the spell for them. Milo, obviously not having this advantage, was severely limited in his choices of items to craft—and, worse, most of them produced effects he could already manage much less expensively by just casting a spell.
Despite the severe restrictions, the Milo that entered McGonagall's office on Tuesday was wearing a pair of sleek midnight-blue gloves with tiny yellow stars on the knuckles. Twice a day, Milo's new Arcanist's Gloves could add a significant amount of extra kick (+2 Caster Levels' worth of kick, to be precise) to his low-level spells.
To McGonagall's increasing frustration, Milo showed no noticeable improvement in his Transfiguration abilities, even under her expert tutelage.
"You have some sort of learning block," McGonagall had explained. "We just need to figure out how to work around it. If you can pull off even one successful Transfiguration, I'm sure you will have no trouble at all with further ones."
She'd decided to try trial-and-error. Since Transfiguration was largely performed in the mind rather than with the wand, she'd explained, it only followed that Milo had to try thinking differently, and the easiest way to do this was to change environmental factors more-or-less at random.
She made Milo try to Transfigure outdoors, indoors, while balanced on one foot, while blindfolded, while hanging upside-down, while inhaling burning incense, with his wand in his left hand instead of his right, with his wand held in his feet, with his wand held in both hands, with her wand, with no wand at all, while under water, and while floating in the air—and every possible combination of the above.
"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, "if you're blindfolded and slowly turning counter-clockwise while in the presence of a horned toad and the room is smelling of lavender—"
"Professor," Milo interrupted. "I don't mean to be rude, but... doesn't this strike you as a bit ridiculous?"
"Of course!" McGonagall said, and for a moment Milo thought she'd agreed with him. "Laughter! Maybe you'll be able to Transfigure while laughing. Tell me, Mister Amastacia-Liadon" (Milo rolled his eyes. He hated being called by his last name) "tell me, how many centaurs does it take to light up a wand?"
Milo sighed.
"I don't know," he said obligingly. "How many?"
"None," McGonagall said with the tone of someone saying something clever, "for Mars is unusually bright tonight."
o—o—o—o
When the other Gryffindors returned from their communal detention, they found Milo sitting in the Common Room stitching up his fifth-hand robes.
"Still working on that?" Ron asked, interested. "They already fit better than mine do—mind, mine were Charlie's originally."
Hermione stared at the thread Milo was using with interest.
"Is that—is that unicorn hair?" she gasped.
"Yeah, wand-grade." Milo said. "I was going to use silk, but it wasn't expensive enough."
"Wasn't expensive—" Ron said, his face going red. He paused to get control of himself with obvious effort. "You're just as bad as Malfoy, you are."
"No, no," Milo said, aghast. "It's just that, for my magic, I need to use magical components that cost a certain amount. And," Milo said with a grin, "when I'm done, these robes could fit Hagrid."
"How much unicorn hair—"
"Magic items resize to fit their wearers," Milo explained patiently. "Everyone knows that, Ron."
"Thought we weren't going to do that anymore," said Harry.
"Couldn't help myself. Everyone ready for tomorrow?" Milo asked, setting aside his under-construction Robe of Arcane Might. It would take another twenty days, but when he was done, Milo would be a force to be reckoned with. Or not to be reckoned with, Milo could never remember how that saying went.
"Yeah," Harry said.
"'Course," Ron added.
"Well—if you insist," Hermione said, although Milo guessed that her reluctance wasn't entirely genuine.
"Excellent. Let's begin, then."
o—o—o—o
Milo waited until he could hear the thunder from the Quidditch pitch outside to begin his heist.
"Invisibility," he muttered and withdrew his eleven-foot pole, looking appraisingly at Snape's office door.
With a deep breath to steady his nerves, he turned the doorknob with Mage Hand and gave the door a firm push with the wooden pole.
Nothing exploded. Milo wiped sweat from his brow. Really, this is what Rogues are for, he thought sourly. Milo stepped cautiously through the apparently un-trapped doorway and entered Snape's office. He wanted to spend as little time in here as possible.
"Spontaneous Search," he cast. Milo located the Veritaserum instantly in Snape's cupboard. It was in a small cauldron next to one containing a thick, bubbling orange potion Milo wasn't familiar with.
Milo reached into his belt and grabbed a small ceramic flask, filled it with the truth potion, and gave it to Mordy, who was also invisible.
"Run this over to Hermione," he whispered. "I'll be right—"
_____________________________________________________
Patreon.com/Black_Zetsu
Subscribe to my Patreon for more advanced chapters. The story is at the Bronze level
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone