“Page two-hundred and seventeen…. ah.” He flipped to the page and stared at the heading, Dissevering Charms. Ron ruffled through lesson three, counting four pages that were dedicated to numerous versions of the charm. It took him several minutes to find the passage he was looking for.
Among the numerous charms used for trimming hedges, cutting toenails, disemboweling Dragons, or severing an enemy’s head during a particularly gruesome duel, one of the more practical and opulent functions of Dissevering/Engraving charms lies in the romantic art of decorative adornment (see ‘Junky to Funky; Turning Trash to Treasure’, by Elma Georgina Flaherty). For centuries, wizards have cut luminous stones into appealing shapes, modeled solid stone into brilliant forms, and carved explicit detail into the walls of grottos and caverns alike, leaving Muggle scientists baffled at the intricacy. But some of wizard kind’s best examples of fine Dissevering and Engraving of precious metals has been crafted by the mages of Ancient Egypt. One needs only to look at the elaborate sarcophagus of King Tutankhamen to know the intricacy a proper Engraving charm is capable of. The less time consuming but certainly still intricate works of Dissevering and Engraving from Ancient Egypt include the fine scarabs that were often used for currency, divine copper and bronze sculptures of native deities, and the decorative bangles and trinkets grave robbers were so commonly raiding tombs for. Fortunately, Seers of the age were able to warn the proper authorities of potential thievery sites and the suitable precautions, such as Illusory charms (Chapter seventeen, lesson four), trigger Confunding hexes, and Memory Transposing spells, were placed at various strategic areas within the crypts (for more information, see ‘Wizards of the Ancient World; What the Muggles Think They Know’, by Cornelius Giramond IIX).
Today, modern wizards use Precious Metal Engraving and Dissevering charms for much the same reasons as our ancestors did; decorative adornment, and to create much of the wizarding world’s currency (see ‘Forget Diamonds; Gold is a Girl’s Best Friend’, by Grizelda Tabatha Kinsworth). Such Charms are usually used to make mundane items appealing to the eye. There are several concepts one must keep in mind if one does decide to embellish Precious Metals on one’s own:
-Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. If you wish to make a profit out of Dissevering and Engraving trinkets of your own or another’s possessions, you must think about the general consumer-their likes and dislikes. One might even chose to create adornments according to the current fad, as Alicia Romania Morman did during the Medieval time period when she engraved the coat of arms on soldiers’ equipment at the rate of two lambs per square foot.
-For the best results, be as specific as possible when charming your precious metal. If you wish to engrave gold, modify the charm for gold. If it is bronze you mean to dissever, alter the charm to work on bronze, etc.
-It is also necessary to modify the charm according to how and what you want to engrave. If you wish to do the charm freehand, be sure to modify the charm to do so. When you want to engrave characters, symbols, or digits, change the spell to do so.
-Engraving and dissevering charms are permanent when used on fine metals. No questions asked. The only way to ‘un-engrave’ a Precious Metal is to melt it down. This is key. (For more information on why this is, see “What to do When You’ve Accidentally Carved a Cuss Word into Your Grandmother’s Favorite Gold Earrings; Beg Forgiveness and Prepare to be Stricken ”, by Aleksandr Grieves).
Now that you understand these charms a bit more, it is time to learn how to initiate such complex spells. The following diagram is for a basic Engraving charm. You will notice a blank district; after you study the diagram, please turn to the index on page one-thousand three-hundred seventy-two, and locate the proper segment for whichever metal you chose to engrave, then insert it into the diagram. Please look to figure 1.a.a6. As you can see…
Ron blinked at the page for a moment, his eyes screaming for sleep. Rubbing them vigorously and ignoring their crusty protest, he shifted his weary blue eyes to the large diagram in the corner of the page. His eyes widened at the complexity; it looked as if a toddler had taken a broken quill to a black and white picture of a crescent moon, and scribbled all over the page. He brought the book closer to his face and squinted at the footnote below the diagram.
Ron sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. There’s that ruddy jeumetree again! For a moment he considered going to ask Hermione to decipher the diagram for him; but then he remembered that this was not a homework assignment he was working on; he could not simply copy her work, adding a few simple-minded mistakes so to try in vain to fool a professor into thinking the work was his own. Yawning widely, he turned to page one thousand three hundred and seventy-two, where he was met with several diagrams that looked as if they were meant to interlock with the one he had seen only seconds ago. His pulse rising, Ron skimmed through the headings, searching for the one marked ‘Silver’.
“That doesn’t look…too bad…” he muttered under his breath, staring at the design. Ron gently tapped the diagram with the tip of his wand and watched it glitter. Turning back to the lesson on Dissevering and Engraving charms, he found the first diagram complete, and doubled in size. He had to admit, the plan did not seem quite so intimidating when there was not quite so many line segments and dead ends. Not that it didn’t look intimidating.
Remembering the above line that stated just how permanent Engraving charms are, Ron pulled the tin box higher on his lap, raising his wand. With a final squint at the diagram and a deep breath, he set the Charms book on his bedside table. “Abrum Glorifiche!” The tip of his wand shone a brilliant red, as if it had caught fire. As he looked at the locket sitting beside his lamp, Ron chewed his cheek; the light itself was much larger than the locket”there was no way he could engrave a teaspoon on the necklace without melting it.
”Now, a simple pinpoint dissevering charm should do the trick. Make sure you tune it for fine metals!”
Elma’s cheery little squeal echoed through his mind and a thin grin formed on his tired lips. “Mucris…uh, Abrum Glorifiche! Argentus….?” The light turned bright cobalt and shrunk considerably. Ignoring the pulsing pain behind his right eye, Ron blinked away sleep and pressed the tip of his wand against the tin box. Holding his wand like a quill, he tried to fashion a small stick figure on the lid of the box. After completing the figure’s lopsided grin, he lifted the box to eye level so he could examine his work.
At one-thirty in the morning, his eyes puffy and blood shot, a slender wooden stick with a ball of blue light glowing on the tip fell from Ron’s shaking hand. He stared haplessly at the tin box, engraved with countless rounded rods that might have resembled spoons and ragged blocks that may have been letters. Moaning and throwing the tin box across his room, Ron cursed loudly, demolished the tower of pillows behind him, pulled one over his aching head, and allowed the dull buzzing of silence to lull him to sleep.
“I don’t know, he just won’t wake up…!” Mrs. Weasley was sitting on the edge of Ron’s bed, stroking the pale boy’s hair and looking quite flustered.
“I think he was up late last night, mum. I could hear him talking until…I dunno, I gave up around midnight; he wouldn’t answer his door,” George said, leaning against the wall next to his twin.
“You don’t think it could be”oh, what was it called? That broad from Yorkshire had it. She wouldn’t wake up for four days”and look! He’s got spots on his hands, too! He should be due for ear hair any minute now…”
“Don’t be thick, Fred. They’re not spots. They’re burns.”
“Well, if you’re so smart, Ginny, what are the burns from?”
“How am I suppose to know?” the girl shouted back to her brother.
Mrs. Weasley stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Settle down! We want Ron to wake up, but not to you two in a row.”
“Burns? What on earth was he doing in here to burn his hands?” Hermione asked to no one in particular, looking over Mrs. Weasley’s shoulder.
Molly patted Hermione on the arm and managed a thin smile. “I’m sure its nothing to worry about, dear. You know Ron; he sleeps whenever and wherever he can… even in his classes.”
“True…but the latest I’ve seen him get up all summer was noon.” Hermione looked out the window at the sun, now far above the highest branches of the tree.
“And there isn’t some old geezer drawling on about who knows what…” Ron mumbled, his eyes crusty with sleep.
Mrs. Weasley started, and rounded on her son. “You might, if you stayed awake long enough. Are you feeling okay? You look a bit peaky, dear.”
Ron yawned and nodded his head. “What time is it?”
“Two. In the afternoon,” Hermione answered, leaning on the end table.
“Bloody hell. Two in the…OI!” Ron sat up and looked towards Hermione, his eyes wide. But he wasn’t looking at the girl; his focus was on the necklace that was mere inches from her fingers.
Mrs. Weasley’s eyes softened and she placed a steady hand on his forehead. “You never answered my question”are you alright? Ron?”
George looked from his younger brother, to the table Hermione was leaning on, and then to his twin. “Fred…? What were you saying about that broad from Yorkshire? What where her symptoms again?”
Fred blinked. “Oh, erm…She didn’t wake up for four days…had spots on her hands and arms, hair growing out of her ears, a high fever…”
“But wasn’t there another case?” George pressed on; earning him skeptical looks from nearly everyone in the room, the pale boy casting anxious glances at a locket that was in danger of discovery the only exception. “In London?”
“Oh…yeah. I remember, now. The case in London!” Fred exclaimed with a grin, quickly glancing at his twin.
Hermione furrowed her brow, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and spreading her fingers so that they came dangerously close to the silver chain. “I never heard about that… ‘case in London’…”
George walked over to Hermione and took her by the forearm, tugging lightly. “Well, you wouldn’t have, would you?”
“You wouldn’t believe the news we get at the shop. Apparently…not many people know about the poor man.”
Fred walked over to lean against Ron’s bedpost. “His tongue swelled up so that he couldn’t talk--”
“So, naturally, he couldn’t tell many people about it”lived alone, mind you. We only know about it because his sister stopped by our shop and saw the Tongue Toffees!” George added, nodding to Hermione and casting a subtle glance in his brother’s direction.
“It happened just out of the blue”a while after the bloke woke up, his taste buds just swelled up. Sort of like what happens when you bite your tongue particularly hard, you know?” When Ron shot him a panicked, questioning look, Fred gave him a very subtle wink.
“Curious…” Hermione muttered, lifting her arm out of George’s grasp.
Mrs. Weasley cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, curious indeed…”
“He was rather dizzy, as well. Couldn’t walk without banging into something or other…” Ginny added with a grin.
Now Hermione had her arms crossed. “But, what does that have to do with Ron? Or even that poor woman from Yorkshire? It sounds as if they don’t even have the same illness…”
“Tut, tut, dear Hermione. You’ve heard of the flu, yes? It is a common Muggle disease. There are different versions of the virus, that show themselves in several different flavors.” George spread his hands in a gesture of mock wisdom. “So why can’t this one?”
Hermione shook her head. “Even so, it sounds like a load of rubbish, if you ask me.”
“It mapes perbect sench to bee,” Ron said with a shrug.
Mrs. Weasley stared hard at her youngest son. “Pardon…?”
“I bed, ‘it mapes”boi!” He clutched his throat. “My fung!”
“This is not the time for games, Ron!” Molly shouted before she was pushed aside by her older son.
George peeled open Ron’s mouth as if he were about to stick his head into that of a lion. “Fred. You have to see this.”
As his twin stepped aside, Fred peered into his younger brother’s mouth, prodding Ron’s tongue with his wand, looking thoroughly disgusted. “Exactly how that lady told us”swollen and yellow.”
“Yellow?” Molly and Hermione exclaimed. Mrs. Weasley looked into Ron’s mouth and yelped.
“Bawt? Bawt’s koind hon?” Ron stammered, standing up. He hobbled towards the door.
Hermione stepped away from the table. “Where are you…?”
“Gearer! Bear’s a gearer?” he stuttered before bouncing off the doorframe. “Guddy bell…” Ron stumbled backwards, tripping over something small and indistinguishable.
Fred caught his brother before he hit the ground as Ginny reached for the small tin box Ron had tripped over, catching it with the skills of a Chaser. “Gearer?” she asked, tucking the tin box behind her as George brought his finger across his throat.
“I think he wants a mirror,” Fred answered with a smirk. His expression suddenly turned solemn. “Bloody hell…Yellow tongue, banging off the walls…” He looked up at his mother, who seemed torn between tears and confusion. “There’s only one symptom left.”
Her eyes wide, Mrs. Weasley asked her son which symptom was left. “Well, rambling, mum…” George replied.
“This is… foolish. Absurd. Ron does not have…whatever the disease is”neither of you even knows its name. How can he ramble if his tongue is swollen?” Hermione said firmly, though her tone revealed the girl was less than certain of her own words.
“It ig fuvely beather joutsyd, eh? Treat boos, libble furl. Chee lazes bar verri…looby…” Ron mumbled, fingering Hermione’s shoelaces while he gazed, cross-eyed, out the window.
Fred snorted. “Apparently like that.”
Mrs. Weasley knelt down next to Ron and looked into his eyes. Suddenly, she rounded on the twins. “This isn’t…deadly? Is…it? Boys?”
Fred raised his eyebrows to his twin, who bent to place his hand on Molly’s shoulder. “No, mum. This uh…strain of the virus isn’t deadly. It can be cured by… a few cups of lavender and pepper tea. With a sprig of something dissolved into it…what was it, Fred?”
“Urgh…I’m not sure. Whatever it was…it was green and…stalk-like…?” Fred stuttered as Ron continued to ramble on about something incomprehensible.
Mrs. Weasley leapt to her feet, the rim of her eyes growing pink as she began to pace tiny circles. “Lavender and pepper t-tea. Right…” She fidgeted with her robes, still looking at her ill son. “Hermione! Any c-clue as to which plant it…”
Hermione watched Mrs. Weasley’s pacing and stood from her crouching position next to Ron. “I…it might be down in the garden. I think I remember seeing a stalk-ish plant somewhere….”
“Well, come on, then!” Emotional, Mrs. Weasley took hold of Hermione’s wrist and dragged her out of the room; but not before the brown-eyed girl saw satisfied glances exchanged between the twins.
“Bar chey dawn?” Ron sputtered, drool dripping down his chin.
Ginny casually leaned out of the doorframe to watch her mother and Hermione disappear down the stairs. “Yes, they’re gone.”
“Brilliant. Open up now! Say ‘aahh’!” George cooed sarcastically, prodding Ron until he did as he was told. Fred poked Ron’s tongue with the tip of his wand, returning it to normal size and color.
Ron took a moment to let his tongue stop tingling. He could taste blood from where he bit it before the twins had examined his mouth, but at the moment, his real concern was atop a wooden table, unprotected by the lamp and Charms book that lay beside it.
“Now, if you don’t mind my asking, which I know you won’t, and if you do, I could care less; why were we trying to get mum and Hermione out of the room? Unless I’m mistaken and Ron really has…whatever it is. Which I highly doubt.” Ginny placed the tin box in Ron’s lap and crossed her arms over her chest.
George strode over to the bedside table and lifted the necklace into his hands, examining it in the sunlight. “This is why, dear sister.” He walked back over to the group and dangled the trinket in front of Ron’s face. “Right?”
Not comprehending the color rising in Ron’s cheeks, Ginny pressed on. “A necklace? All that… charade for a necklace?” But even as she asked the question, Ginny recognized it as the very same pendent she had seen Ron toying with outside her brothers’ shop the day before.
Fred took the locket from George and placed it in the palm of his hand, bringing it to eye level. “This isn’t any locket. This one is from a dainty little shop in Hogsmeade”dainty, but pricey. The shop keeper there is a twit, her name’s Grizelda--”
“Elma’s a sweetie, though,” George cut across his brother. “We like her; she’s positively nutty--”
“My guess is this… is for Hermione. Unless there’s another damsel who’s stolen your heart, Ronnie,” he added with a significant glance to Ron.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ron stood from his spot on the floor, his head aching as a result of banging it on the doorframe. “No…its not, erm…”
The twins grinned. “Its for her!” They said together, causing Ron to turn beat red. Fred threw the locket at Ron, who caught it clumsily with shaking hands.
“But…I”how…?” Ron was, more or less, at lost for words. What the bloody hell just happened here?
“So…we didn’t need mum out of the room…” Ginny muttered in a tone that suggested the whole thing was beginning to make sense to her.
“Its all coming together now, isn’t it?” Fred said with a jubilant grin, watching as George examined the ruined tin box.
Ron gaped at his siblings, the necklace limp in his open palm.
George looked up from the box and turned to face Ron, prodding the locket. “You practically wet your bedclothes when Hermione was leaning on your table.”
Fred picked up the open Charms book. ”I thought maybe you had forgotten to give her back her Charms book….But then, I figured you’ve probably forgotten to return loads of things, and never gave a hippogriff’s hide about it.”
“And the only thing left on the table was that shiny little doodad right there. Besides; Fred and I have a strict policy with paying back our debts…and now you and I are even.”
Taken aback, Ron fumbled with the drawer he was trying to hide the necklace in. “Even…?”
“Even. I know what you told Katie…At the Three Broomsticks, she mentioned that she was glad she had bumped into you,” George said with an unusually meek grin.
Fred put his arm around his twin and ruffled George’s hair roughly. “So, George decided that since you helped him with his badge, he’d help you with yours.”
George pushed his brother away, his smile brighter. “But don’t get used to it, ickle Ronnickens. This does not mean you and I are going to get chummy or anything. Or that Fred and I are going to play cupid”we look horrid in pink leotards. This here; it was strictly business.”
After piling his socks on top of Hermione’s locket, Ron turned to face his brother, a shadow of a grin in the corners of his mouth. “Of course not. The thought didn’t even cross my mind…”
“Good. Well, I suggest you get into bed. Fred?”
“Already on it, dear brother!” Fred pushed Ron back onto his bed and peeled his mouth open, prodding his tongue again.
Ginny looked as if she was trying not to laugh as Ron’s tongue turned yellow and began to swell. “Will the lavender and pepper tea actually counteract that hex?”
George shrugged carelessly as he and Fred made their way towards the door, walking backwards. “No. It is just a very disgusting and obscure blend”so obscure that it sounds like a remedy…”
“The essence of that stalk-ish plant in the den should cure it, though,” Fred added. “We grow some of them in the back of our shop”they’re good for curing accidents that involve inflammation, discoloration…”
“Head aches, mild whiplash, rashes, some mild infections…” As the twins continued their way out of Ron’s room, listing off all the moderate injuries they experience in the shop that the plant can mend, Ginny turned to Ron.
“Maybe I’ll reconsider working there for a while…”
“Bach’s ga tood ibeeuh,” Ron stammered, struggling with his swollen tongue.
Ron watched his sister examine the tin box, and his heart fell. He still hadn’t been able to engrave the locket; the book had made it clear just how permanent the dissevering charms were, so the most he had done was practice on the tin box. Looking at his work on the box, Ron was glad he hadn’t tried to draw on the locket the yet.
“What were you trying to do to this poor thing? It’s…mutilated.” Ginny held up the tin box and looked to her brother. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, she held up her other hand. “No. I wouldn’t understand you, anyway…” She handed Ron the box, which he pushed under his pillow, and stood from her place on the bed. Ginny was halfway out the door when she turned around, her expression thoughtful. “Does it”that mutilated tin-- have anything to do with the Dissevering Charms you asked about last night, and those burns on your fingers?” Ron nodded solemnly. “And…that necklace in your sock drawer?” She smiled at another solemn nod.
“Gut by jon’t dhink I’ll he agle boo to annietink boo gee bloket… I’ll foo in git,” Ron muttered, his tone saying more than the nearly unfathomable words he spoke.
Suddenly, Ginny’s smile brightened. She bounded towards her brother, her eyes twinkling. “I think I know you’re problem, Ron. What you probably don’t know, is that you have to modify the spell to fit whatever metal you’re working on…”
Ron rolled his eyes; for one fleeting moment, he thought Ginny was going to tell him something useful. “By goe! Chits fondibied bor zilfer…”
Ginny took a moment to decipher her brother’s words. “Oh…No! Wait, but you’re working on t--”
“What’s Ron working on? Other than an utterly rubbish illness that has his mother nearly in tears?” Hermione appeared in the doorframe, holding a tray of tea in her hands and tapping her foot impatiently.
“Oh. Hullo, Hermione!” Ginny said with giddy innocence.
“Don’t be like that, Ginny. You are in on it, too.” The bushy haired girl stomped into the room and placed the tray on Ron’s bedside table, sloshing some of the tea onto the floor and neglecting to clean it up. “I don’t know what’s going on”but heed my word, I will find out.”
“Fergione!” pleaded Ron.
“Please! This whole thing is rubbish, and you know it!” Hermione huffed, placing her hands on her hips in a very Mrs. Weasley sort of way. “I do have common sense. You’re lucky your mum is in a vulnerable state, or--urgh! I just can’t believe you…” She turned and stomped towards the door.
Ginny looked from Hermione, to Ron, and back. “Hermione, you don’t understand…”
“I know for a fact I don’t understand! But I intend to find out the meaning of this horrid charade”and soon. For now, you’ll just have to live with the sobbing woman that’s in your kitchen, searching her books for remedies to an imaginary disease!” she shouted, not faltering in her slow stride.
“Fergione!” Ron leapt from his bed and reached for her shoulder. “Peefz, hon’b gee shad ab--”
Hermione rounded on Ron, shrugging away his hand. “Let’s see, swollen, discolored tongue”but where is that dizziness? Oh, and you seem cured of those ramblings, as well,” she raged on. As Ron opened his mouth to retort, Hermione lifted her wand and stabbed his tongue, “Finite Icantatum!”
“Oy! What the bloody hell was tha--” Ron’s eyes grew wide as Hermione pocketed her wand, her expression revealing she was not at all surprised. He shot a glance at his sock drawer. “Hermione, you have to--”
“I don’t have to do anything, Ronald. I’m not going to tell your mother, so you need not worry about that. I rather think the job should be left to you on what to make of her. But I think you should know; what you four did hurt more than one person.” Hermione turned and stepped out the door. She stopped on the top most step and raised her wand again, so quickly that Ginny and Ron flinched. “Accio Textbook!” The Charms book leapt from its spot on the floor to hover for a moment in mid-air. It then flew out the door and into Hermione’s outstretched hand, but not before colliding with the side of Ron’s head.
Ginny winced slightly, her brown eyes round. Ron hadn’t moved when the book smacked him in the head, and nor did he budge as he watched Hermione stomp down the stairs. When the hem of her robes finally flicked out of sight, Ron closed his eyes and leaned against the doorframe, sliding down to sit on the floor with his knees at his chest.