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Click here"Well... "Charlene looked rather nonplussed. Interestingly, Minerva felt that she was just as nonplussed as Charlene, but entirely from the opposite way. It was so clear that Harry here thought he was being quite progressive and forward thinking...while blandly admitting that his entire civilization sat on the back of England like a mosquito and just let the masses of normality work in ignorance. Charlene, she was sure, was more upset he wasn't more arrogant and in command. Minerva covered her expression by sipping on her coffee, and Charlene took a chance to leave, brightening and waving at the entrance of the place.
"Ah, my friends are heading out. It's been lovely, Harry," she said. "See you on the Hex Express!" She gave him the warmest, most inviting smile - then shot Minerva a glare that might as well have been pure venom, then turned and started off. The glare had been so short, so swift, and so subtly timed that Minerva was honestly not sure if she had imagined it or not. As Charlene swished off, Minerva turned to Harry.
"Okay," she said. "I have a million questions."
Harry rubbed his temples, sinking his head forward. "God Almighty, I was hoping that it wouldn't be this bad at Hexgramatica. It's bad enough in London."
"I take it your uncle is..." Minerva chose her words as tactfully as she could. "...rather important?"
"He's the leader of the Ars Magica," Harry said, quietly. "Now, uh, enough about my Uncle! Let's get you a broomstick!" He stood, smiling down at her. Minerva wanted to ask more about Ars Magica, about the trials in her future, about whatever had made Harry such a target of fascination. But she already knew that there was more to be learned, more to be studied, in this magical world than she could manage in a single day.
And so...
And so.
And so, she let herself not worry about it. She let herself not think about anything but what it was that Harry promised.
"Broomsticks it is," she said, standing up and walking with him from the cafe. "I take it they're marvelous?"
"Oh, you have no idea," he said, with a smile.
The two walked out - and Minerva, so focused upon the shop, did not notice the poster she walked past of Ars Magica.
She did not see the raised fist, nor the lightning bolt, or the bundle of arrows clutched between the fingers. She did not see the logo beneath.
ARS MAGICA
TOMORROW BELONGS TO US
Even leaving aside the plot, which I am intrigued by, I am quite impressed by a lot of your practical tweaks for the world. Standardized wands, utilization of mundane medicine (along with commentary on why it’s good), noting treaties and participation in major world events… love it. Looking forward to reading the rest of this!
Wizards seem to REALLY like fascism, it's a big mystery, why would a select secret aristocracy who thinks 99% of the human race is less than them due to a lack of magical talent be so easily swayed by fascism???
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