August 12, 1988
England, Cokeworth, Spinner's End, Severus Snape's House
On the fourth day of my stay in Snape-sensei's house, I discovered something else about mages and magic. The 'discovery' began when I opened the fūin-refrigerator to take inventory and try to understand how this piece of magical household equipment worked.
The sight nearly made me unleash my strongest curses.
I clearly remembered that many of the ingredients had run out yesterday. I had watched Sensei open the cooling cupboard wide and search it for something to make for dinner. Now its shelves were packed full: three dozen eggs, several bottles of milk, a meat roll, bread, cheese, raw meat, herbs, vegetables, jars of jam, and much, much more.
I stepped back and rubbed my eyes, just in case. What was this miraculous wonder every human being dreamed of? Or was something wrong with my eyesight?
"What happened, Harry?" Snape-sensei found me in the middle of this.
"I'm thinking about how the food got into the cupboard," I declared profoundly. "I originally wanted to inspect it and make a list of what we needed to buy at the shop."
"Oh..." Sensei drew out the sound. "The fact is that I order provisions through magical catalogues. Once a week, on Fridays, the main order appears in the cooling cupboard. Naturally, one sometimes has to buy additional things, but sending an owl with an order is usually enough."
"An owl with an order," I echoed. "So food and supplies simply appear by themselves for wizards, right?" I began giggling, then broke into hysterical laughter. "Like magic, right?"
Now I understood why no one had wondered what the Golden Chosen Boy was supposed to eat. Why would they? Mages did not have to think about daily bread. Everything simply appeared. My magical guardian, assuming I had one, had probably never experienced the problem of earning money for food, then driving or walking to a shop, dragging everything home, and sorting it onto shelves. Everything was ordered automatically, charged to an account, and magically appeared in the refrigerator. Wonderful!
"Actually, under Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, food is one of the five Principal Exceptions. It cannot be created or transfigured," Sensei said, completely failing to understand my amusement.
"Five exceptions?" I repeated with a snort. "I suppose the other four, besides food, are money, artifacts, blood or organs, and other people, right?"
Shadow cloning and ninjutsu had similar limitations. Shadow food could not fill your stomach. Counterfeiting money was forbidden, and when the chakra ran out, the coins would turn back into whatever material you had transformed. Artifacts were obvious. Even the Uchiha, with their miraculous eyes capable of copying techniques, could not create a shadow version of an artifact sword like those wielded by the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. They might reproduce the shape, but not the artifact's special properties, such as absorbing blood and restoring itself using the iron within it. I had learned about organs from Sakura, who was an excellent medic. People were obvious too. As with artifacts, you could create only a temporary imitation, such as a shadow clone. A person could be brought back with a technique like 'Impure World Reincarnation', but it was disgusting. It was not true resurrection, only a soul bound to someone else's corpse and given the dead person's appearance. They did not sleep, eat, or feel pain... In other words, they were no longer human, and souls torn from the Pure Land suffered under such a state.
"You reached the answer surprisingly quickly." Snape-sensei raised one eyebrow, which for him was practically an expression of astonishment.
"It's fairly logical." I shrugged. "If you turn a chair into roast chicken, it probably won't be pleasant to start shitting sawdust after the transformation wears off."
Sensei snorted at my unappetizing example.
"Yes, you are correct. Shitting sawdust would be a singularly unpleasant experience. Ahem. And what about the others?"
"I think money can be created, but it would still be counterfeit, which means trouble with the law. No one likes being cheated. Wizards have police, don't they?"
During my previous stay in this world, I had once paid with shadow money. But after Harry and I exchanged magical gold for pounds, I paid for everything honestly. Still, I suspected magical law enforcement ignored such small matters. It was also entirely possible that 'cheating Muggles' was considered acceptable, unlike cheating other mages.
"Er, yes, there is something resembling a police force," Sensei said with a nod and a grimace. "But they generally do not concern themselves with such matters. Many shops have detection devices, and several spells can expose counterfeit money."
"So if someone cheats you, it's your own fault?" I clarified.
"Something like that," he said with a scoff. "Naturally, most wizards are honest people... But..."
"I understand, sir. One must remain vigilant." I nodded.
He smiled, though somewhat sadly. Yes, in the magical world, one had to keep one's ears open at all times.
"While I prepare breakfast, I would like to hear your thoughts about the other exceptions," Sensei said. "We will make an omelet and fry pork sausages. And toast. The jam has arrived."
"I'll slice the bread," I volunteered.
The mention of toast and jam made my mouth water immediately. Like any child, I adored sweets. Only one thing in England truly impressed me: the toaster. It browned bread, and then the slices jumped out in such a delightful way. Hot, crisp, and delicious. The toaster in Sensei's house was partly magical, so its toast cooled more slowly than the kind Aunt Petunia made for breakfast. Snape-sensei said toast was a distinctly English food that other peoples later adopted from the English. The electric toaster had been invented by Muggles nearly a hundred years earlier, after which mages adapted it for themselves. Sensei's toaster certainly looked older than the Dursleys', but it seemed so sturdy that it could probably work for another hundred years.
Sensei gave me a pointed look, waiting for the rest of my answer, so I continued.
"Copying magical objects and artifacts probably isn't possible either. Otherwise, there would be no legendary items, or everyone would own them. I think one could reproduce an object's or weapon's appearance, but not its magical properties. Those depend on the interaction of the materials, their combination, and probably an entire complex of enchantments."
"Correct. Magical artifacts, and the artificers who create them, are valuable and rare. Incidentally, magical potions are included among 'artifacts' under this exception."
"That makes sense." I nodded. "A potion combines materials, their effects upon one another, and probably the magical properties of the individual ingredients. A true art."
"You are correct about that as well," Sensei answered, and I heard a note of self-satisfaction in his voice.
I had calculated that since he had attended school with Harry's mother, who gave birth at twenty, he could not be more than thirty. He also looked considerably younger now than in the newspaper photographs Harry had shown me. Yet even at this age, he was already a renowned Potions Master. He had reason to be proud.
"Blood and organs seem obvious too. Especially since you said blood conducts magic, which means it cannot simply be created. And suppose you turned a stick into an arm and attached it to someone whose arm had been torn off. What happens when the arm turns back into a stick? Besides, organs are not simple. They contain countless cells, blood vessels, nerves, bones, tendons, and many other things..."
"You reason in an interesting way," my teacher said with a quiet scoff. "One would never guess you are only eight. Not all of my seventh-year students can boast comparable mental ability."
"I wouldn't say I'm especially intelligent, sir." I lowered my eyes modestly and continued with a sigh. "It's simply common sense... I would very much like to bring my parents back, but I understand that they are gone. Permanently. If resurrection were possible in the magical world, someone would have revived them, and no one would ever die. So that must be the fifth exception to the law of..."
"Gamp," Snape-sensei supplied while placing a pan of omelet and the sausages on the table.
"Right, that Gamp." I repeated the surname silently to remember it while placing the final batch of toast into the miraculous device.
We ate breakfast in silence.
I had continued experimenting with matches and levitation for three days, reaching three boxes by yesterday. I could control all three hundred at once; the number did not matter when they moved under a 'single intent'. But I could manipulate only two separate formations, and even then my 'brain creaked and smoked' while my hands trembled because I used them to 'help'. Today, I planned to test the maximum weight I could lift and determine whether there was a limit. I also wanted to learn whether speed depended on an object's mass and volume, my distance from it, and similar factors. And, finally, how to make myself fly.
"If you are interested, I can allow you into my laboratory," my teacher's voice interrupted my thoughts. "I will brew several potions and show you what the process involves."
"Huh? Really?" I stared at him. Was he truly going to let a child into his 'holy of holies'?
"But you will help prepare the ingredients," he said sternly. "And... some of them may appear unpleasant at first glance."
"There's no way to know until we try, sir," I reported cheerfully, quickly washing the breakfast dishes. "I'm not particularly squeamish."
"Very well." Snape-sensei sighed as though surprised by his own decision. "Come along, then."
"I won't touch anything without permission, sir," I promised when I saw his hesitation return as we approached the enchanted door.
He gave a quiet scoff and entered the laboratory first.