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The SOW party Gala
Pansy and her friends had found themselves at the edges of a large ballroom, standing against a stretch of wall between two balconies. Although it was open to the rest of the ballroom, their proximity to the wall and the large stretch of open floor between them and the rest of the gala created the impression of a private parlour. At their distance, the music, chiming laughter, and soft conversation of the party were nothing but background noise, and the loudest sound was the chirping of bush crickets from the gardens below the balconies. Mint green curtains draped from the room’s high ceiling, and a cool breeze from the outside tugged at the fabric, causing it to ripple.
“It's a travesty!” Draco said. His dress robes were coincidentally the same color as the curtains, making him look slightly ridiculous as he paced back and forth in a worked-up strut. One of his hands was clenched around a crumpled magazine, though he seemed to have forgotten he was holding it as he waved his arms around. “The rule against restricting rare channeling methods is supposed to preserve magical culture. This device isn’t magical culture. It’s a brand new invention! It's like they’re suddenly allowing duellists to compete with Zonko’s products. I don’t know what the rules committee thinks it’s doing.”
Theo stood to the side of Draco, with his back facing one of the balconies. “I don't know. I think international duelling with the addition of Zonko's products sounds entertaining.”
“It's going to completely destroy the sport! The other competitors can't compete against it. They’ll be forced to acquire their own devices to have a chance, and then the whole duelling circuit will be flooded with them.” Draco turned to Pansy. “What do you think, Pans?”
Pansy remembered back to when she'd first read about the assisted casting device in her own copy of Duelists’ Monthly. The article had included an interview from the foreign-educated witch who had fought with the device: “I think it's going to become the great equalizer among mages. I don't have the strongest core, but with the ACD, I can spellcast on a level with some of the best fighters in Europe. What will the world look like, when success in duelling and other magical arenas is no longer decided by a natural talent, but ingenuity?”
Pansy looked down at her skirts. She was dressed in a delightfully daring set of dress robes tonight - high-fashion couture. A puffy, white skirt spilled over petticoats, and a bone white corset with shimmery cream accents cinched the skirt and sleeves into place. “I don't think it will gain traction in Britain. Society would look down on any witch or wizard who used such a device.”
Standing a few feet to Draco's right, next to a marble pillar, Blaise drawled, “They do look very muggle, don't they?”
Pansy thought back to her issue of Duelist’s Monthly. Close-up photos of the ACD had been splashed across the pages. The device was made up of a small screen, like a miniature blackboard, affixed to an armband, and the armband and the blackboard’s frame were both made of a glossy, candy pink material that Pansy hadn’t recognized. She had assumed it was the result of some kind of potion treatment. Was something about the design actually muggle? In hindsight, she should have guessed as much. The creator, Francesca Lam, was a muggleborn witch.
Draco scowled. “Don't make me imagine such a thing. It's already enough that these devices are ruining duelling. I don't want to think about them spreading and infecting our entire culture.”
“I doubt they will,” Millicent said. She, like Pansy, stood across from the boys. Both women kept their bodies cheated out so they could keep their eyes on the larger ballroom. “Even if the devices are on the open market, our trade sanctions with America will make it almost impossible to get them imported legally.”
“Duellists will find a way to get them anyway, though,” Blaise said. “They tend to care more about winning than the law.”
The Dancing Phoenix
Leo and Harry sat together at the end of one of the long benches that ran alongside the Dancing Phoenix’s tables. Hot bowls of stew steamed in front of them, and lanterns hung from the ceiling, burning with warm and cosy light. The table they sat at was empty but for them, and the chatter from the members of the Court and at other tables surrounded them with a familiar ambiance.
Leo wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead and slid his wand back into its holster. “Have you heard back about the ACD from that friend of yours yet? The one with the international smuggling connections?”
“I have. And the news is better than expected. I thought I'd have to bully him into helping, but you've captured his scientific mind. Also, his capitalist mind. I think he wants to sell you more than just the one you asked for if you have the funds.”
“Do you think that's a good idea?”
“I think so. I'd start off with just a few, at first. If you can get them programmed with just a few high level, in demand spells, like Portus or the undetectable expansion charm, someone in the court could set up a small business using them to create enchanted items and they'd pay for themselves in a month.”
Leo blinked at her, stunned. “Are you suggesting that these things can be used to cast spells the user doesn't know?”
“Of course? It's all runic. I mean, it's not like they're equipped to cast every spell. Someone still has to do the arithmancy to convert them into the simplified runic script in the first place, and then it has to be added to the individual device's database, but once that's programmed into the machine, the user just has to channel magic. It's almost like unconscious imbuing.”
“Harry. Harry. That might mean some squibs can use this.” Leo grasped Harry by the shoulders.
“Oh.” Harry's eyes widened as the realization hit her. “Oh.”
Leo’s gaze scanned across the Dancing Phoenix. At the bar, Rispah sat chatting with a couple from Dogwood lane, listening intently as the wife told a story. At the table nearest the far wall, a teenaged Margo sat hunched over an essay with several of her similarly-aged friends with a couple of secondhand textbooks scattered around them. Her hands were stained with ink as she scribbled a quill across a length of parchment, working diligently on an essay from the correspondence course Harry had helped her enroll in.
Near the Phoenix’s open entrance, a couple of the alley’s youngest children played, darting in and out over the threshold and shrieking. How many of them would ever be able to buy wands, or be fully trained in how to use them? “This is going to change the alleys.”
“I'd be willing to fund some myself,” Harry offered. “A sponsorship, of sorts. To help things get up and running faster.”
“When do you think we can get the devices?”
Harry made a face. “You'll have to visit Lestrange in person in order to get it calibrated, but he already has at least a few. He keeps asking me to come help test them. Do you want me to come along? He might be easier to deal with if I’m there.”
“I don’t mind putting up with him, not for something like this.”
“You sure?”
“If you really want to help, find me someone capable of adapting a Portus charm for an ACD.”