"I can only guess at what it does. For one, it has boosted your magical core greatly, allowing you to have greater magic and stronger reserves. With the Phoenix Tears, this means you'll have instant regeneration, making it impossible to truly injure you. The Unicorn Horn has increased your magical core at least ten-fold. The Dragon Scale has made your skin nearly unbreakable, at least spell-wise. I'm not sure with muggles weapons. The Salamander's Blood offers you great resistance to elements and other chemicals that enter you. The blood will burn it out and restore you to your natural states. The Thestral tail feather, that I'm not sure about. It's unclear what that will give you. My guess, since Thestrals are an aspect of death, is that you cannot enter the realm of the dead. The ritual's name itself suggests that if your body is destroyed in any way, you will turn to ash and be restored to your original form from when you preformed the ritual," Morgan speculated.
"Are you saying that I can't die?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"There is a good chance you unintentionally became immortal," Morgan replied. Harry was baffled by this.
Morgan finally stopped at a door and opened it. Metal suits could be seen hanging near the wall. They looked almost like the suits of armor at Hogwarts.
"I want you to cast as much magic as you can at the armor until you can't cast anymore. Once you're done, I'll begin the magical transfusion."
Harry nodded his head and began casting spells. He was hitting the armor with everything he had. His mind was on Voldemort and how he should have beaten him. All the lives that the Dark Lord took, all the lives he failed to save… that would end as he would never make that mistake again.
After what felt like a couple of hours, Harry fell to his knees and leaned his head back, gasping for breath. He had poured as much magic as he could into his spells and drained himself, just as Morgan had instructed. His body felt like it was on fire and he could barely move.
"Good, you're drained. You're nearly at zero and your magic is trying to recover. Now we can begin," Morgan said as she walked in front of him.
She then spoke in words that Harry didn't understand and he felt himself lifting in the air. His senses were telling him that something felt wrong. He tried to resist but he couldn't. He had too little magic to defend himself. Morgan's face showed signs of frustration.
Harry remained almost motionless as he was restrained in the air, unable to resist despite his best efforts.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Morgan stopped the spell and fell to the ground as Harry landed on his feet, breathing heavily to try and catch his breath. Harry looked up and saw Morgan lying on the ground, not getting back up. Harry walked over to her and rolled her onto her back. She was pale.
Harry didn't know what to think. He had thought for a brief moment that she was trying to steal his magic or something. He wasn't sure, only that what it felt like what she was doing was wrong. Yet, when Harry placed his hand on her neck to feel her pulse, it was there but it was very faint. For a moment, Harry didn't know what to do.
He knew he wouldn't get any answers by leaving her on the cold floor. He hoped she would have a good answer for what she had done when she woke up. With his mind made up, he bent down and picked her up, taking note on how remarkably light she was. It hardly felt like he was carrying her at all.
Harry walked out of the dungeon and immediately up the flight of stairs. The castle seemed to resemble Hogwarts too much. It was almost as if he knew exactly where he needed to go. Sure enough, when he reached the fourth floor he found a chamber with beds. He set Morgan down onto one.
He felt weak from the magical exhaustion, and he knew he had to rest himself. He climbed into the bed next to Morgan's and quickly succumbed to his drowsiness, falling asleep on a bed that reminded him so much of his four-poster back at Hogwarts.
Harry slowly woke up and yawned as he sat upright. He looked over and saw Morgan was still asleep in her bed. Harry got up and walked over to check on her.
She was no longer as pale as she was when she collapsed from her spell. However, she showed no signs of waking either. Harry placed his hand on her forehead and could tell she didn't have a fever. However, her magic wasn't what it had been. It was drained, but it was much stronger than when he had put her in bed.
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