During the following week, I mulled over what kind of mind palace I should construct. The book warned that if the mind palace wasn't compatible with your spirit, the whole thing would crumble.
I had several ideas on what to build. The annoying thing was it took time and energy to make the palace. It was very mentally draining. But, if I wanted to pass the trial, this was the first step in being able to craft false memories. Knowing that I had around four months before the trial ended, I decided to go ahead and make my first attempt.
After meditating, I found myself back inside the empty void of my mindscape. Bringing my imagination and willpower to life, paved stone rocks began slowly forming a floor beneath my feet. Once I had gotten it about six feet wide, I started expanding the floor one stone at a time.
After expanding the floor a decent amount, I noticed that it was becoming harder and harder to form more of the floor. Exhausted, I opened my eyes in the real world, content with the amount I had progressed. I felt drained. It was like my brain had just lifted weights to the point of complete muscle fatigue.
The rest of the week continued in the same manner. Each night before sleep, I spent some time working on my mind palace. After the floor, I started on the walls and the arched ceiling. When I was building the hallway, it looked like it stretched into infinity. Now that the hard part was over, all I needed to do was bring my memories inside. One by one, doors began forming next to one another.
Each door contained a memory within. From what I could tell, they were in seemingly random order. One entryway held memories from the previous day, and the next was from when I was a toddler. But, after giving it some thought, the randomness seemed right. How often do our minds flit from one idea to another? Who hasn't caught themselves thinking about one thing, only to move to a completely different train of thought? Sometimes memories are like that. They are connected in strange ways that we can't always fathom.
Unfortunately, after admiring my handwork for a few minutes, the infinite hallway began to shake. Cracks started to form in the stone floor and then large chunks started disintegrating into nothingness before my eyes.
My eye twitched in annoyance. "Merlin's Chafing Nipples." I cursed, I was furious about how quickly the whole thing came apart at the seams. It hardly seems fair, with the amount of time and effort I put into this place for it to fall apart in minutes.
The following day I couldn't help but be a little grumpy. My brain was exhausted, one week into building my mind palace, and I was already fed up with the process. It was like studying for a test so much that even the idea of reading one more page made you cringe with fatigue. Then when it was time to take the test, you find out that you had been studying the wrong subject, and you have to start all over.
What sucked about the whole process of building a mind palace, was that sleep didn't fully rejuvenate my mind. I now understood why the books recommended the slow and steady approach and why most never advanced past this point. Building a mind palace was mentally exhausting, and then to see all your hard work go up in smoke was discouraging. Plus, most people were satisfied with being able to keep out the few who had learned Legilimency out of their minds with Occlumency shields.
Thankfully, there were classes I could sneak short naps into, like History of Magic. I don't even know if Professor Binns realizes that half the class doesn't pay attention to his monotone, droning lectures. When I first started his class, I found the subject exciting and I scoffed at the inattentiveness that Harry had shown in the subject. But ever since I read ahead in the textbook. I mostly use the time to study other branches of magic. But today, I buried my face into my arm and dozed off listening to Processor Binns rambling on in his monotone voice.
Of course, there were other consequences to being so out of it during the day. I found myself making slips ups in other classes, and some of those teachers were far less forgiving that Professor Binns.
"Mr. Fawley!" a sharp voice rang out.
I jerked as my eyes snapped open, "I'm awake." I defended.
Looking around the dungeon, I found Professor Snape looming over me. His dark eyes glanced over at what remained of the smoldering potion I had been brewing. "Clearly," He sneered. "20 points from Ravenclaw and tonight see me for detention after supper. Tell me, Mr. Fawley, is my class so dull that it puts you to sleep?"
I struggled not to roll my eyes at the question. Why do people ask questions like that? I wonder what he would do if I said yes? Judging from the throbbing vein in his forehead, I'm guessing nothing pleasant.
Not wanting to end up further on Snape's shit list, I stayed silent, he didn't want me to answer. He just wanted me to say the wrong thing and dig the hole deeper. When I didn't rise to the bait, he lectured the class on how only incompetent wizards take their eyes off potions that they are brewing. From his pointed glare, he let everyone in the class know he was speaking about me.
I took my licks in silence. I had messed up. I was so tired that I shut my eyes for a second, and the next thing I knew, I fell asleep. Plus, I kind of felt bad, from the suspicious look in Snape's eye, I think he might believe that I did it on purpose. It was hands down, the worst I've ever done in a potion's class, not to mention that the Davis incident was only a couple of months ago.
After scrubbing the stained and burned potion cauldrons under the watchful eye of Professor Snape, I again went to work on my mind palace, no matter how many times it took, I was going to succeed. Exhausted or not, I needed to step up my game if I wanted to pass the trial. I was beginning to realize why so few had ever passed the test. A year isn't much time to master a difficult subject like this.
I can say with confidence that the following month was probably one of the worst months of my life. Every morning was a struggle to get started with the day. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and stay there.
After the first week, I realized that I had too much on my plate. So I started prioritizing. The time I usually spent practicing my fourth-year spells was replaced with quick naps. I even reduced my dueling to the annoyance of Anna. While I want to do well at the International Dueling Competition, there is always next year.
The Ravenclaw trial is a once in a lifetime event, and there are no do-overs. I was curious about what the prize was for winning. I had looked up all of the previous Heirs of Ravenclaw. Each of them had been pioneers in magic, but if they were good enough to complete the challenge, then they probably would have been successful whether they succeeded or not.
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That was how I spent the following month, every night I worked on my palace. Outside of a few slip-ups in classes, my grades didn't suffer too much because I was so far ahead in my subjects. One of the most frustrating things about the whole thing was I couldn't talk about what was going on with me. More than once, my friends tried to find out what was going on, but the trial's geas thwarted any attempt to let them know.
By the end of the month, I was beyond fed up. Never before in my life had I felt such fatigue and failure. I had studied other difficult magics previously, and even when it took me some time, there was always some sense of progress. It was like I had come across a wall that not only I couldn't pass, but actively mocked my attempts. Every mind palace I created fell apart shortly after its creation. No wonder most people who found success in occlumency never moved on to the next step.
I tried a vast lake, where the waters contained my memories in the shapes of fish. I even created a small wooden boat where I could sit and fish out a memory with my bare hands.
When that didn't work, I built an elaborate labyrinth system inside of a cave where my thoughts and memories could be viewed in shallow pools that dotted the floors. Similar to my previous attempts, it fell apart.
After a few more failed attempts, I started trying to think outside the box and dredged up my faded memories of my previous life. I built a house of mirrors, a futuristic spaceship, a castle, an underground bunker. It didn't matter what I did. One by one, they all fell apart in the end.
When those didn't work, I held off for a few days so I could rest and cover while thinking about what kind of mind palace would fit me. While I meditated on the issue, I concluded that I needed something more relatable to me.
Had it not been for the Ravenclaw trial, I would have given up. The whole point of building a mind palace was that it was the first step in being able to craft and store fake memories. I didn't even know how useful it would be to me in the future. It wasn't like I was planning on being a spy. I was perfectly happy with keeping people out of my head with my shields. I imagine only those like Professor Snape needed to master the ability to craft fake memories. But, if I wanted to pass the trial, I needed to figure this out, I had less than three months remaining, and this was only the first step.
Once I settled down and started to reflect on what would suit me. I settled on something that I loved, books. Ever since coming to this world, I have gotten my hands on as many books as I could. I even had started a secret operation to copy as many books as I could from the Room of Requirement and sneak them back to my tower. I loved to read and study about magic in all its wacky forms and applications.
Once I decided on books, I figured the next step was to form a library. I decided to base mine on the Hogwarts Library because I thought it was the most suitable option. A week later, as I watched in annoyance as my duplicate of the Hogwarts Library fell apart.
While I was annoyed that it fell apart, it wasn't all bad. I could tell it was closer. Unlike my previous attempts, the library nearly lasted a day before dissolving into nothingness.
I tried to examine what went wrong. I concluded that the main problem was while the Hogwarts Library welcomed all students, it wasn't my library. The more I thought about it, the more it felt like that explanation was the truth.
This was to be my mental fortress, a place that held my most precious thoughts and memories. It needed to be mine. I needed it to be a place of peace and safety, a refuge from the outside world. Once I realized what I truly needed, I grinned. I knew what I needed to do.
Closing my eyes, I imagined my seat of power forming around me. My lip curled in satisfaction when I felt my gleaming hawk throne form beneath me. It was an exact match to the one in my secret tower. I didn't care if sitting in such a throne was one of the trademarks of an evil wizard. Now all I needed was to build my tower.
As the days progressed, I perceived that I was on the right track. The amount of effort that it took to build my mind palace this time was far less than before. My previous attempts had felt like I was trying to push a square peg through a round hole.
I modeled the tower to be an exact match for the one in the real world. The only difference was the inside was one enormous library. Each level was filled to the brim with shelves that would hold my memories.
Like the Fawley tower, there were seven floors to my library. As soon as I finished the tower, I could feel in my bones that I had succeeded. It was a similar feeling to when I got my wand. I could just tell it was right, like putting on a pair of shoes that fit after wearing a pair that was two sizes small for some time.
Books started appearing on the shelves. Each contained a memory. Like my previous attempts, they came in random order. But, unlike last time, I discovered with some effort, I could shuffle books to different areas.
I left the shelves on the first floor mostly empty. This was to be my decoy area. Once I figured out how to craft a memory, this was where I would store it. Should I decide to let someone past my shields one day, they could look through my fake memories all they wanted.
One of the most appealing things about the mind palace was the ability to review memories. I found the effect similar to the pensieve that was used in the Harry Potter books to view memories. I have always had a great memory. But, being able to see your memories from outside of your body was a whole new experience. It allowed me to view things from a new perspective.
Unable to help myself, I searched for memories of my previous life. At first, I thought it would take forever because the books were blank, not giving any indication of what was contained within. However, I discovered that if I picked up a book, I could get a sense of what was contained within without opening it.
As I perused my library, I stopped when I found an old book that seemed to be falling apart. Considering my fading memories, I thought that this was probably one of them. I picked the book up gently, almost afraid of damaging it, but once I grabbed it, I felt it was much more solid than it looked.
The book did end up containing a memory of my previous life. I decided to move it to the top floor, which was the farthest it could be from any outside detection. I wasn't too worried that they would be discovered, someone would have to wade deep within the depths of my mind to discover them.
I figured I would have more significant problems to deal with in the real world if they were in a position to go that deep. All I had to eject someone that was in my head was raise my shields, and if I couldn't do that, then I was probably in more danger than having a few of my secrets being discovered.
As I searched the tower, every memory I discovered from my previous life, I moved up to the top as well. Most of them were in terrible condition, it made me wonder how long I would have access to them all. It was apparent they were degrading, but the thought it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. My old life didn't matter to me. This was now my life, I was learning magic at Hogwarts with my friends, and perhaps best of all I had a loving family.
After seeing how damaged my memories of my previous life were becoming, I made a point to review my memoires reading the first five books of Harry Potter. I ended up sitting beside my previous self and followed along. Since all this happened at the speed of thought, t didn't take me too long. Now, I have fresh vivid memoires of reading the Harry Potter books, even if these memories degrade to the point where I can't view or remember them, at least I have a back up set.
Now that I had finished my mind palace, I discovered that it was possible to open my eyes in the real world and still be somewhat aware of what was going on in my tower. It made organizing my memories go a lot faster.
Now that I had built my tower, I had to learn to craft memories. But, what concerned me was that the books warned that this was even more difficult than completing a mind palace. I didn't have much time left until the trial. It was near the end of February, only a couple of months were remaining until the deadline
I had a few ideas on how to get started. There were several spells related to memory. I figured that I would be an excellent place to start.