Wimzy’s magic, for example, was impressive. At around 170 Lum, her magic power was lower than Fang’s but still superior to Vivian’s. And her natural affinity for magic allowed her to bypass anti-Apparition wards at Hogwarts—a feat that filled Alex with envy.
Yet there was a stark divide between elf magic and wizard magic. Spells cast by house-elves followed entirely different principles, and while Wimzy could teach Alex how she performed certain feats, he couldn’t replicate them. Conversely, Wimzy struggled to use wizard spells in the same way Alex did. It was a frustrating but fascinating reality. “This has to be a physiological or systemic difference,” Alex concluded after several failed attempts to adapt elf magic for his own use. Still, the possibilities intrigued him.
Alex often pondered the untapped potential of house-elves. Despite their magical prowess, their ingrained servitude left them shackled, both mentally and socially. Most house-elves never acted for themselves, only for their masters, and it was rare for one to develop independent thought. This frustrated Alex. A race with such natural gifts deserved better than to be bound by the chains of tradition. If Wimzy’s growth was any indication, their subservience could be overcome with proper guidance and training.
Wimzy’s newfound confidence wasn’t entirely her own doing. It was a result of Alex’s constant encouragement and structured training. Even so, the progress was remarkable. She now accepted clothes, wages, and even the concept of voicing her thoughts—a radical departure from the typical house-elf mindset.
Watching Wimzy evolve gave Alex an idea. If the psychological barriers of servitude could be broken, house-elves could become a force to be reckoned with. Their ability to Apparate through anti-Apparition wards alone made them ideal candidates for roles in infiltration and assassination. Armed with the right tools and training, a house-elf could become a highly effective operative, capable of bypassing any security system to strike at the heart of an enemy.
Alex’s eyes gleamed as he looked at Wimzy. She had no idea he was envisioning her as the prototype for a new kind of warrior—one who didn’t need a wand, could outmaneuver any defensive spell, and could wield magical and physical strength with precision. “Wimzy,” Alex said warmly, “you’re going to change the world. You just don’t know it yet.”
For now, though, she was just a hardworking house-elf in a marching uniform, tending to a fire while Fang drooled over barbecue. Alex couldn’t help but imagine a fully transformed Wimzy—her gentle, diligent demeanor replaced by a heroic, determined figure as she donned a tactical suit, her bronze-toned muscles gleaming beneath the gear. She would look like a soldier ready for battle, equipped with all sorts of tools. The image filled him with satisfaction and a tinge of excitement. His thoughts were interrupted by Wimzy’s voice. “Master, master! The meat looks overcooked!” she exclaimed, pulling him back to reality.
“Huh? Oh, right. Sorry!” Alex quickly turned his attention back to the barbecue. Sure enough, some of the beef was starting to char. He sprinkled seasoning on the pieces and hurriedly distributed them to the small animals around him, who had been eagerly waiting.
The Crups and Knarl-like Hedgehogs were the most impatient, climbing onto Alex and tugging at his robes in their desperation for a bite. One of the Sables even leapt onto his shoulder, acting like a real greedy cat as it mewled for attention. “Alright, alright! Everyone will get their share. Stop grabbing!” Alex said, laughing as he tried to manage the hungry creatures. “Fang, get over here and control your little gang!”
He turned to look for Fang and froze. The wolf’s face was mere inches from his own, wide-eyed and dripping with saliva. Clearly, Fang was also waiting for his share, but his size made it awkward for him to jostle with the smaller animals. “Don’t just stare at me like that,” Alex muttered, handing over a piece of meat. “Here, enjoy.”
After ensuring everyone was fed, Alex led Fang and Wimzy into the Forbidden Forest. They left the Hogwarts perimeter, finding a flat, secluded clearing deep among the trees. “My lord,” Fang said, tilting his head. “Another experiment today? I’ve tried so many things, but I still can’t cast spells. I’m starting to think I’m just not built for it.”
Alex smirked. “Spellcasting isn’t the only way to use magic. You have plenty of potential left to unlock.”
With that, Alex reached into his bag and pulled out two items—a small vest and a pair of goggles. The vest was thick and padded, matching Fang’s fur color. Several metal-like protrusions were embedded into it, and small compartments lined the sides. “What’s this? A vest for me?” Fang sniffed at the item curiously, his head tilting as he tried to make sense of it.
“This isn’t just any vest,” Alex said, slipping it onto Fang. “This is a tactical vest I designed specifically for you. It uses your body’s magic power to perform functions that wizards normally accomplish with spells. Think of it as a magical enhancement tool.”
Once the vest was secured, Alex added the goggles, which fit snugly over Fang’s eyes. Fully outfitted, Fang looked like a canine commando. The vest, with its rugged design, and the goggles, giving off an air of sophistication, made him look both intimidating and professional—if not for his naturally goofy demeanor. “You look so handsome, Mr. Fang!” Wimzy exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.
“Really?” Fang’s tail wagged furiously as he pranced around, trying to catch a glimpse of his own reflection. Without a mirror, he ended up chasing his tail in circles, much to Alex’s amusement.
“First things first,” Alex began, gesturing to the vest and goggles. “This vest doesn’t increase your strength. It’s meant to help you use magic. Think of it as an assistant to channel your energy.”
“Oh?” Fang stopped circling and looked down at himself. “I don’t feel any different.”
“That’s because you haven’t activated it yet,” Alex said. “Try channeling your magic into the goggles. Focus on the center of the lens.”
Fang did as instructed, concentrating on his magical core and pushing the energy toward the goggles. A small green light flickered to life in the corner of the lenses. “It worked!” Fang said excitedly, his tail wagging again. “The goggles lit up!”
“That’s the equipment status indicator,” Alex explained. “Green means everything is functioning properly. Yellow signals an overload, and red means the equipment is malfunctioning. Always keep an eye on that light.”
“What’s next, my lord? What does it do?” Fang asked, his excitement bubbling over.
“Look to the left side of the goggles,” Alex said, pointing. “You’ll see a vertical row of runes. Each one corresponds to a function built into the vest. So far, I’ve only programmed a few basic modules, but I’ll add more later. For now, try activating the top rune.”
Fang squinted at the runes and focused on the topmost one. With a slight mental nudge, he activated it. A faint hum emanated from the vest, and the protrusions began to glow softly. “What’s it doing?” Fang asked, his ears twitching with curiosity.
“That’s a basic shield module,” Alex explained. “It uses your magic to create a protective barrier. It’s not as strong as a wizard’s Protego, but it’ll absorb minor attacks. Perfect for when you’re in the field.”
Fang’s eyes widened. “That’s amazing!”