Gabriel's birthday this year had been a bit different from the last one. Instead of throwing another party, he and some of his friends went to Muggle London to watch Jurassic Park, which had just released a couple of weeks ago.
It was… an experience.
The pure-bloods, thankfully, had enough sense not to cause any major trouble, though the shouted questions about whether Muggles could really make dragons definitely caught some attention in the theater.
Unfortunately, neither Ron nor Ginny could come - apparently their father had won some sort of prize or raffle, and the Weasleys had decided to use it to visit one of Ron's brothers in Egypt.
Gabriel couldn't quite think of the land of pyramids the same way after his mother's revelations about her past. He kind of wanted to go there too… but he felt like asking her that would make him sound like a total wanker.
Still, the movie had left him with some interesting questions.
"Can I transfigure a dinosaur?"
The answer, as it turned out, was kind of - but it would be really complicated. And really hard.
When a wizard performs a transfiguration, they aren't conjuring something out of thin air or building it from pure imagination. There are too many physical and metaphysical variables for even the most brilliant mind to consciously control. Mass, volume, density, weight, center of mass, inertia, elasticity, rigidity, hardness, malleability, ductility, brittleness, temperature, thermal conductivity, specific heat capacity, melting point, boiling point, heat of fusion, coefficient of expansion, electrical conductivity, magnetic permeability, dielectric constant, electron affinity, electrochemical potential, superconductivity threshold, transparency, refractive index, reflectivity, luminescence-
-and so on.
So, what the wizard actually does is use what they can hold in mind - the image, the intention, the emotional resonance - as a kind of keyword, a way of refining their "search" as they reach into the Hyperuranion, the Realm of Shapes, to connect with the Perfect Form of what they wish to create and manifest a shadow of it into reality.
Even then, they don't connect their soul directly to the collective record of all things - that would cause their mind to shatter, or their soul to burn out. Instead, they connect to the soul of the Earth, the planet's own thread within the Hyperuranion, and through that bridge, they bring the shape into being.
The result is that it's far easier to transfigure something that exists on the planet now, rather than something that doesn't. It isn't impossible to recreate an extinct creature - but the longer it's been gone, the deeper one must delve into the Realm of Shapes, and that requires tremendous power, focus, and time.
A Master of Transfiguration might be able to recreate an animal that's been extinct for a century. Dumbledore, perhaps, could manage one that's been gone for a thousand years.
Dinosaurs, though, had been extinct for sixty-six million.
So, recreating them exactly as they were is practically impossible - though not completely impossible, since wizards have a habit of doing impossible things with unsettling regularity. Maybe, Gabriel mused, someone with a fossil and enough knowledge of time magic could do it. But he wasn't sure that was a sound idea.
What was more viable - ironically - was transfiguring the inaccurate versions of dinosaurs seen in popular Muggle media, like Jurassic Park. Because those, too, had become part of the Platonic Ideal of "dinosaur." The only difficulty there would be that no actual, living example of such a creature exists - but their symbolic connection to the real thing might be enough for a skilled Master of Transfiguration to make it work.
His second question, of course, had been:
"Could I turn myself into a dinosaur?"
That question went unanswered, since his mother blasted him straight into the artificial lake in front of their home before he could even finish asking it.
Maybe someday he'd learn why she hated giant reptiles so much.
-~=~-
A few weeks after his birthday, following another grueling training session and delicious breakfast, Gabriel found himself surprised when, instead of immediately starting to blast his mind with Legilimency, his mother walked toward the stairs leading down to her laboratories - motioning for him to follow.
Eager for anything other than feeling like his head was being stuffed with cotton and wrung out like a towel, he hurried after her.
"No Occlumency training today?" he asked, unable to fully hide the giddiness in his voice.
Eloá laughed softly at his attempt to sound casual, shaking her head as they passed the second underground floor.
"No, not today. Unfortunately, I'll be too busy at the Department in the coming days to keep it up - so instead, I'll start you on something else you can study on your own."
They descended past the third floor, where the submarine-style metal door with the wheel handle guarded a mechanical workshop Gabriel had once peeked into.
Finally, they arrived at the fourth floor. The "door" before them looked like a seamless white panel, with a smaller square compartment beside it. Eloá opened the compartment with a touch.
"Take off your clothes and your wand, and put them in there," she said, already doing it.
"You know I'm not a kid anymore, right?" Gabriel said sarcastically, though he complied all the same.
Eloá gave his naked form a sidelong glance, covering her mouth and looking away with a snort.
"What's that supposed to mean!?" he demanded, indignant.
"Doctors take months - maybe a few years - to get used to naked bodies to the point they don't react anymore, meu Anjo. I've had entire lifetimes. Trust me, you don't have anything I haven't seen a million times before."
He grumbled but finished storing his clothes and wand in the compartment.
Once they were both undressed, Eloá touched the larger panel. It parted like the petals of a flower, revealing a dome-shaped chamber made entirely of the same milky-white, jade-like material that seemed to glow with its own soft light.
Gabriel immediately felt a headache coming on as they stepped inside. The lack of shadows, sounds, textures - anything - made it feel like he was standing in an infinite void. His sense of space and balance spun wildly out of control.
"Take a seat; it'll pass soon," said Eloá gently, though her amused smile betrayed that she was enjoying his discomfort.
Slowly, carefully, Gabriel sank to the floor and sat cross-legged, eyes closed.
"Is this - ugh - is this some kind of torture chamber?" he groaned.
"I suppose it could be used as one," she admitted with a giggle. "But no - this is as close to a 'pure' place as I could make. A room with as few metaphysical characteristics as possible, so I can better study those of whatever I bring inside."
"Makes sense?" he asked, uncertainly.
"It will, once today's lesson is over. Take as long as you need to get used to the feeling. We've got the whole day - and I'd really rather not go through the entire purification process again if you end up vomiting in here."
"Got it," he muttered.
He stayed like that for a few minutes, slowly opening his eyes to look around, then quickly closing them again and taking deep breaths.
"This is taking longer than expected," Eloá said, a frown audible in her voice.
"Sorry," Gabriel murmured.
"It's not your fault, love. Maybe it's something related to your sight? I'll have to look into it later."
She moved behind him, deliberately letting her steps echo on the smooth white floor before sitting down. Gently, she placed her hands on his shoulders and guided him back until his head rested on her lap. Her fingers massaged his temples, then brushed over his eyes.
"Try again, but look only at me," she said softly.
He obeyed, blinking up at her. "Better now?"
"I can only see your tits," he said in a deadpan tone.
"Well, I spent decades researching how to make such perfect ones, so I'm not making them smaller. Get used to it," she replied dryly.
"I've seen better," he said smugly.
"Oh? That's quite the compliment. Should I tell Valeria?"
"No!" His face went red instantly.
"Then shut up, you miscreant."
And he did.
They stayed like that for a while - Gabriel lying back, his head on her lap, while she hummed a tune under her breath and ran her fingers through his hair.
"Alright, I'm better now," he said once he no longer felt like any sudden movement might make him lose his breakfast.
"Wonderful. Now please sit up and turn to me."
He did, carefully straightening and facing her. Eloá closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A moment later, her body began to glow - a beautiful lilac corona of light blooming from her skin and surrounding her entirely.
"This," she said, opening her eyes, "is a representation of my soul."
"Your soul's gaudy. Makes you look like some kind of magic pimp," Gabriel said with a grin.
Eloá huffed. "I'll have you know this is the noblest of all colors."
"For medieval peasants, maybe."
"I will leave you locked in here spinning for a whole day if you keep this up."
"Sorry! Sorry!"
"That's what I thought." She smirked, then continued. "Now, to explain - this is a representation of my soul. Or rather, a part of it.
"There are many different interpretations of the soul's anatomy, but for the sake of brevity and practicality, we'll divide it into three parts: the Upper, Middle, and Lower Soul.
"The Upper Soul connects with the higher planes - it determines how much access to Aether an individual possesses. The Middle Soul connects with the surroundings - it's what allows a person to perform acts of magic. The Lower Soul connects with the mind and body - it's their metaphysical shape, and a reservoir of all information related to them.
"What you're seeing right now is the outline of my Lower Soul."
She paused, the lilac glow pulsing faintly.
"Of course, all three are interconnected. They can be further divided into even more layers, and how each interacts with the others could fill entire libraries. But that's not our focus today. What matters now is the part that will let you begin your study of Alchemy beyond theory: the Middle Soul."
As she spoke, the corona of light around her shifted - from a gentle, skin-hugging aura to a radiant pulse that spread outward, bathing the entire room in shimmering lilac light.
"This is a representation of my Middle Soul. As you can see, it extends much farther than the Lower - and that isn't because I'm particularly impressive - though I am," she added with a smirk, "but because of its function."
"Connecting with the surroundings," Gabriel recalled.
"Exactly. Earlier, when I began teaching you the Mind Arts, we discussed how Projection and Detection are two of the basic functions of the Immaterial Body - the Mind. The Soul has its own equivalents: the Laws of Emanation and Assimilation.
"You see, the Aether that flows through your body doesn't remain contained within it. It constantly flows outward into your surroundings. But this Aether isn't 'pure' - it can't be, not while existing in the material world. It's painted by your thoughts, your ideas, your conceptions - by your mind.
"This is similar to mental Projection, but while Projection allows you to interact with other minds, Emanation interacts with the metaphysical aspect of the world around you. Are you following me?"
"I think so? So, like… if Projection is sending radio waves that only other radios can catch, Emanation is more like a spray of paint constantly leaking around me?"
"Yes! That's right!" Eloá said, smiling wide. "Here's a more grounded example: when you look at a bar of gold, your mind connects it to properties that aren't purely material. You might associate it with wealth, beauty, worth, perfection, or nobility. These associations paint your Aether, which then influences that gold through the Law of Assimilation.
"Of course, a single individual isn't enough to permanently affect anything - not even someone with the power of ten Dumbledores. But imagine the entirety of humanity assigning the same meanings to the same things over thousands upon thousands of years. That is where the magical properties of plants, metals, and even planets come from."
"Right. I remember Professor McGonagall talking a bit about that," Gabriel said. "Though she wasn't nearly as technical. She said that objects, animals, and plants all have souls, and that the bigger they, the more magic they have, and the harder it is to transfigure them. She called it Alchemical Value."
"It's one of the names for it," Eloá agreed with a nod. "Now that you understand the principle, let's focus on your task."
She touched a finger to the floor. A thin trail of light followed her movement, tracing a circle bisected by a horizontal line.
When the sigil was complete, the floor opened in the same petal-like manner as the entrance door, and from it rose a small bowl made of the same milky jade as the walls. Inside it rested a pile of crystalline rock salt, glimmering faintly under the room's white light.
"For the next few weeks, until you return to Hogwarts, you'll study the alchemical properties of Salt, and the ritual to strengthen its Upper Soul's connection to the Monad - what is known as Alchemical Awakening. Unfortunately, the most auspicious time for such a ritual will be while during the school yar, and I don't believe I'll be able to guide you through it," she said with a frown.
"Professor Dumbledore could do it," Gabriel said with a shrug.
"Yes, he could," she admitted, her lips pursing. "But I wanted to."
He frowned slightly, but smoothed his expression before she could notice. Taking her hands in his, he smiled softly and kissed them.
"It's alright, Mum," he said gently. Then, his grin returned. "What if, when I come back for Christmas, we use the salt to make a barbecue?"
Eloá snorted. "That sounds like a tremendous waste - and an absurdly mundane use for such a powerful substance."
Her smile mirrored his. "I love it."