"There you are…" Harry chuckled as he pulled the sword out of the tank with shaky arms. To Harry's eyes, through the skill he'd learned and developed to 'examine' Magical Items, he saw the Magical Aura around his finished sword. Powerful, but sedate, as if waiting for when it was needed. His sword was a Masterwork if he did say so himself. Taking the sword over to his work table inside the smithy he set about cleaning it with shaky hands. He'd need to craft a nice handle for it. The metal was the proper shape, now it just needed wood, or perhaps bone, and maybe some leather. "Now there's a pretty sword." Harry whispered to the blade as he finished cleaning it.
"Harry…?" Penny called as she knocked on the smithy door. "Harry, are you alright?" Harry really wanted to answer her but he was done. The ache in his body was real. There was a deep, bone deep, exhaustion setting in now that his task was done. He was able to turn his head and see Penny opening the door. Her warm brown eyes widened when they saw the state he was in. "HARRY!" The blonde Head Girl rushed over to him and took him into her arms.
"Hey…Penny…I finished my sword…" Harry whispered tiredly.
"I can see that." Penny only glanced briefly at the sword lying on the work table. "What did you do to yourself, Harry? You're shaking, burned, and your hands are a mess." She pulled him against her gently as she laid her head on top of his. "I think you went too far too soon, Harry."
"Maybe…maybe…" Harry attempted to shrug, though the best he got was a slight shake of his shoulders.
"We're going to Madam Pomfrey, no arguments." Penny informed him as she used her Wandless Magic to levitate him.
"Okay…" Harry murmured tiredly as he started to doze off. His last thought was about how strong his Artifact Sword felt. He was damn proud of the magical power he'd felt in his blade. It was far stronger than he was right now.
Artifacts could be stronger than the one that made them. Base Magical Power for an Artifact was determined by the materials used; the power of the Artificer, and the skill of the said Artificer. Isimun, Sylvuan, Vitris Auri, and Wizard Blood were all decently magically powerful. Isimun was clearly the most powerful of the materials by far. But Harry had poured his own mana into the sword throughout its creation only recovering an hours-worth of rest for his mana, sometimes two, between cycles of forging, etching, and hammering. He'd poured every bit of his mana into his creation on Friday, Saturday, and today. If the Arithmancy was correct Harry's Artifact Sword should possess almost three times the power he currently did.
It was truly an amazingly powerful sword. Its use as a focus would see it standing toe to toe with even legends like the Sword of Erdunn. Perhaps even mythical blades said to be created or given by Gods. Though that would remain to be seen, for now.
For now Harry was damn tired. Spending three days physically exerting oneself while constantly keeping yourself in a state of near Magical Exhaustion would do that. Harry could ponder no more as he fell asleep before they were even out of the corridor his hidden workshop was in.
Harry sighed as Madam Pomfrey hovered around him. The Matron of the Hospital Wing had been fretting over him since yesterday. Penny had levitated him here after he'd finished his Artifact Sword and fallen asleep. Seeing a student exhausted, physically and magically, burned in various areas, and brought in unconscious had almost sent Pomfrey into a fit. He'd woken up this morning to three vials of potion he had to drink. Not the most pleasant thing to do first thing in the morning. Penny had visited at breakfast and stayed with him until classes began, so that was nice. Now came what he was expecting since he woke up.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore smiled at the teen Artificer.
"Good morning, Headmaster." Harry returned the greeting.
"You gave us quite the shock when Head Girl Clearwater brought you into the Hospital Wing yesterday." Dumbledore informed him with a classic 'worried grandfather' look. Harry figured the man had decades to perfect said look. The Headmaster was somewhere north of one hundred thirty years old.
"Sorry about that, Headmaster." Harry apologized with a slight bow of his head. "I had thrown myself into my work a bit too much. Or at least that's what Penny says I did." He cracked a slight grin.
"Being passionate about one's work is a good thing." Dumbledore nodded, with a small smile of his own. "But we can't have students harming themselves like that. Poppy tells me that you had both muscular fatigue and symptoms of prolonged magical exhaustion. Could you tell me how your Enchanting brought you to such a state?"
"I wasn't just Enchanting, Headmaster." Harry shook his head. Seeing Dumbledore's curious look, he continued. "I was Artificing. I finished a project two years in the making, sir."
"You've crafted another Artifact?" Dumbledore looked a mix of impressed and confused. "Your last Artifact did not leave you in such a ragged state, Mr. Potter."
"My Rune Safe was almost accidental in its Artifact status." Harry admitted with a shrug. "This time I fully intended to create an Artifact, a powerful one at that."
"Might I inquire as to what Artifact now resides in Hogwarts?" Dumbledore questioned; his tone noticeably different. Harry looked at Headmaster Dumbledore right now, he realized, rather than the genial grandfather figure he acted as for others.
"A sword that cannot cut anything." Harry let himself smile slightly.
"Cannot cut anything?" Dumbledore looked truly confused and Harry wondered how rare that look actually was.
"Nothing physical anyway." Harry shrugged with a shake of his head.
"I must admit to my curiosity." Dumbledore gave his grandfatherly smile.
"I still have to craft a handle and a sheath for it," Harry remarked thoughtfully. "Then I'll need to test out its full capabilities, of course. Once that's done I'll need another Panel of Artificers to come and examine it themselves."
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