If I ever get out of this thing, I'm going to write a paper titled "The Psychological Effects of Eternal Confinement in a Magic Crystal." It'll be a bestseller among cursed artefact researchers, I'm sure.
Because right now? I'm dying of boredom.
According to my most recent Tempus spell — cast entirely through mental focus, thank you very much — I've been here for one year, six months, and twelve days. Which means I've been talking to myself in my own head for five hundred and seventy-four days straight. If that doesn't qualify as madness, I don't know what does.
On the plus side, I've had plenty of time to digest every ounce of knowledge I ever learned in Hogwarts. Spells, alchemy, runes, potion theory — all of it. I could probably recite entire textbooks word-for-word at this point. I've also been experimenting with new spell constructs in my mind. Some of them are absolutely brilliant. Others… well, let's just say one of my mental prototypes accidentally imploded an imaginary classroom.
Progress.
The tricky part is that my magic keeps surging erratically. Without real movement or focus, it leaks out in unpredictable ways — flickering lights across the crystal, little bursts of ancient energy that make the air hum like an electrical storm. If someone walked past right now, they might think they were looking at a trapped star.
Actually, that's kind of poetic. Luna, the star in the crystal.
Still, as much as I'd like to enjoy the view, I need to focus. My Tempus spell gave me the year — 1994. Which means I'm roughly at the beginning of Goblet of Fire.
That's… surreal.Harry Potter exists somewhere above me right now. The Triwizard Tournament hasn't even started yet. Dumbledore's still Headmaster. Sirius Black is on the loose.
I can't decide if I want to laugh or scream.
Maybe — maybe — this is the year someone will find me. After all, Sirius did break into the castle last year. The Ministry's probably increased magical security around Hogwarts. Maybe they'll send people to inspect the lower levels. Or maybe Peeves will finally get bored enough to throw something down a forbidden corridor and accidentally stumble across a glowing blue crystal with a very annoyed witch inside.
Wishful thinking, I know.
Still, it's better than sitting here doing nothing. So I go back to refining the spell I've been working on — a theoretical ancient magic resonance pulse. If I can amplify it enough, maybe I can send a magical ping through the ground, something that'll register as an anomaly to any witch or wizard with enough sensitivity.
Because if I've learned one thing from both my lives, it's that even the most brilliant minds can go mad if they're left in silence too long.
And I've had enough silence to last a lifetime.