Glassomancy.
What was this form of magic, as noted from the Latin-derived suffix? This form of magic is used in the city of Taurus. And there, to quote the famous Terry Pratchett, our story begins.
Simon Alec Cooper woke, as always, at 7:00, and was dressed and eating breakfast in the student cafeteria shortly thereafter. He attended Taurus University, working towards a bachelor's in magical engineering. As he walked out of the cafeteria he pulled out his Slate, a magical construct, and made a note to recharge the mana battery in his clock. The numbers were starting to fade. Going to his first class, Transposition, Translation, and Teleportation, otherwise known as the 3T course, and sitting down, he extended his Slate, and pulled up his usual desktop, and got ready to take notes. Just a few months in to the school year, and he was already designing his own transportation spells.
As Simon left class, absentmindedly going through the notes on the slate, the wiry young man seemed distinctly youthful. This was entirely accurate, as he was far too young to be attending the University. He just happened to have a good mind for the precise visualization of complex circuitry that magic demanded. He was fully capable of holding a three-dimensional spell pattern in his mind, and was working on fourth-dimensional patterns.
His wanderings led him to the university's mana plant, where electricity, from the national power grid, most likely one of the new fusion reactors, was converted into mana. Unlike electricity, mana had mass, and therefore, was a pain to transport long distances. The fusion plant had its own magical setup, including mana plant. Simon had been at the opening ceremony for the first functioning fusion reactor. It had been a breakthrough in magic and engineering. He checked his own mana reserves, feeling around with the innate ability of those who have been exposed to large quantities of mana to detect mana. He could use another gigajoule of energy. He walked up to the counter, paid the fee, five cad, and placed his hands on the two solid beryllium spheres, and started to draw energy. He was almost done (he could draw at 15 megawatts) when he felt a brief pulse of mana in the air. Stepping away from the terminal, and with a sweep of his hand, he erected a Faraday cage for magic, a roughly spherical shell of mana threads, each conductive to magical energy. The shell was a simple one, and fed into a small siphon collector. He stood, ready for the overload that the pulse usually heralded. These overloads were getting annoying.
The wall exploded.
He turned towards the blast, already instantiating a magical shield, burning through the recent mana charge.
The shield drained into the Faraday shield.
The mana pulse raced ahead of the wall.
It hit the shield.
The shield's siphon overloaded.
Simon woke up. He found himself in a small yard behind a building, along with a few bits of wood, presumably from the floor of the charging station. Looking around, there were brick walls all around him, with a door into some sort of building behind him.
Exiting the building was an oddly dressed man, no woman, wearing a pointed hat, and carrying what appeared to be a carved stick.
Simon spoke up, "Excuse me, I think I've just had a magical accident. Where am I?"
"You're in Diagon Alley. Where are your parents?"
Simon sighed, and pulled out his university card.
"What's that?"
"Don't you recognize- oh. I must be very far from home. What's this city called?"
"London."
Professor McGonagall was having a decidedly busy day. Many students that had to be let in on the secret, and now a student who wasn't in the Book of Names. As she apparated in to the small yard just outside of the Leaky Cauldron, she certainly did not expect the new student to have pulled out some sort of magical conjuration.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.
"Excuse me. I'm Simon Cooper. Who are you?"
"Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Oh dear. I've jumped realities."
"Young man, I think you're-"
She was cut off as Simon stood up sharply, pushed his bluish glass thing into his jacket, and pulled out a card of some sort.
"You're a mage. Pulse this card."
"What?" The professor was certainly confused.
"Mage. Magical engineer. Could you please send a pulse of magical power into this card?"
"I think this is a task for the headmaster."
"So you believe me now?"
"I'm not sure what to think."
"We'll floo to his office."
"Floo?"
"Yes, floo. It's a network that connects fireplaces."
"Well, er-"
"It's perfectly safe."
"Just give me a moment, all right?"
Simon waved both hands around him in a grand gesture, then stepped into the fire.
"What now?"
"Good gods! You'll burn yourself!"
"No, I won't." He pointed to himself. "Mage."
The professor muttered, and took a pinch of powder, casting it down, and announcing very clearly, "Hogwarts."
The flames flared green, swirled, and the pair stepped out of a fireplace into an ornately decorated office.
Simon looked up, sharply. He just had a small bump in his awareness.
"I suppose I should introduce myself again. I am Headmaster Dumbledore, and you've just had a few minutes of your memory erased. Fumble chuzzle spuz."
Simon looked momentarily surprised, then upon hearing his three secret memory-check words, looked even more surprised, but slightly less nervous.
"Minevra, perhaps you might consider choosing your own words? It would help very much if I had to alter your memory for you, as I just have."
"Headmaster," asked Simon, "what were we talking about, and why was my memory erased?"
"You've agreed not to tell yourself. You have come to the agreement that it would be best if you stayed in this school for now, and learned a different kind of magic. Your past self has also told me to tell you, 'slate, octagon, square pi'."
Simon finally relaxed fully, and pulled out his slate, a solidified magical construct. "This is a slate. It's what most mages, and many other people use for most computer-related functions."
"Hang on, other people? Muggles?" an incredulous McGonagall asked.
"Yep. About one percent of people ever have any interest in magic, and of those, only one percent ever become proficient in magic."
"So magic is something that you can just give away?"
"Sort of. Magic, as we know it, is a method of storing and using another type of energy. Spells are cast by shaping mana, a type of magical material that can be converted into magical energy, into a circuit, then running magical energy, which is the other form of mana, through that circuit. Also, you can make a spell more permanent by changing the mana used to make the spell matrix into solid mana, like I have done with my slate. Most people have a few m-joules of energy, while mages, magical engineers have a few g-joules. Clear?"
"Good heavens, no." McGonagall clearly did not understand a single word. The headmaster, on the other hand, was nodding as if he had heard the explanation before, which he had.
"Simon, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to stop you there. You've already agreed not to remember certain things, and you're close to rediscovering them."
"Alright, headmaster. Could I see what I said to myself?"
"Certainly."
Pulling out a pair of headphones, and tapping the headphones to the slate before slipping them on, Simon started to listen to himself talk.
"Hey me. I reality jumped. Stay in this school, learn about this magic, eventually head home. Trust me. Fumble chuzzle spuz. Oh and, hold back your power. These folks have to rely on the background mana levels, which are a few k-watts at most."
Pulling off his headphones, Simon looked at the headmaster, "I think I'll stay."
Some minutes later, Professor McGonagall and Simon were flooing to Diagon Alley, and Gringotts bank. Simon had the shopping list in hand, and was looking it over.
"I haven't any money to pay for this, nor do I wish to magic up some."
"Don't be silly. You can't make conjure money."
"Could you yet me have a try?"
The professor handed over a silver coin, oddly inscribed.
"Hm, there's some odd magics."
Simon started to wave his hands about, then clapped his hands together in a most dramatic manner. Professor McGonagall looked down, and suddenly there were two sickles on the ground.
"You do know, Cooper, that what you just did is impossible?"
"It should stand up to just about any sort of analysis."
"I think the goblins of Gringotts would be most pleased if you told them how you did that. Most likely you would be given a reward."
"I'd rather not. If I could just destroy one of those?"
"Of course."
Simon once again started to wave his hands, and with a small bang, a sickle disappeared.
"I would have expected a quieter sound"
"What would you expect? I had to convert the mass of that coin into atmospheric gas."
"Well, I should warn you against trying to do this in the future. The goblins won't send lawyers or aurors, they'll send an army."
"I'll bear that in mind. What's on the shopping list?"
"I have a copy of your parchments here."
As Simon took the list, he tapped his slate against it. Both objects briefly glowed blue, before the glow subsided, and he handed back the parchments to the professor.
"Three sets robes, one pointed hat, one pair protective gloves, a cloak, all of this with name tags, a whole stack of books, a wand, a cauldron, some phials, a telescope, a set of scales, and a pet. No broomsticks. No staff?"
"Why would you need a staff?"
"Mage stuff."
"I think an exception could be made, as long as you do not make a broom out of it."
"Right. I think that I'll need to buy the books, I can create the robes, hat, and cloak, and I can easily make far superior gloves. Ditto the phials, cauldron, telescope, and scales. I just need to know what all of the usual uniform robes look like."
"Well, the Headmaster has allowed you one hundred galleons."
"I should be able to save a good chunk from the robes and gloves. May I?"
"I don't see why not. It should be an interesting exercise in magic."
"I'd like to have a staff first."
"What is a staff? A long wooden cane?"
"Well, I prefer my staves to be wooden, with a metal sheath inside. A staff is a tool used by mages. Each person has their own configuration. Every person's is unique, and suited to their style of magic."
"Like a wand?"
Simon laughed. "We actually have wands. They're basically miniaturized staves. Not many people use them, not enough space for the Glassware."
"I'll just need a length of good quality wood, about a meter and a half, some steel, and access to a lot of magic."
"Olivanders should have some wood of good quality, and steel should be easily transfigured."
"Great!"
The pair walked into Olivander's wand shop, where Professor McGonagall turned to Simon,
"I'll just leave you here, and get your books. Please behave yourself."
Simon looked around. In a quiet voice, he said,
"Hello?"
Suddenly a sliding ladder slid out from in between two shelves stacked with boxes. Standing on the ladder was an old man, Olivander.
"Good day. I am Mister Olivander. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"I am Simon Cooper. I would like to buy a wand."
"Very well, mister Cooper. Let me see."
The old man looked at a few boxes, before settling on one. Taking out the wand, a rod of wood from it, he handed it to Simon. Simon took the wand. Feeling the wand with his magical senses, Cooper felt that the wand was a way of accessing pre-stored spell formulae.
"Well, give it a wave."
Simon waved the wand, consciously not allowing any mana into the wand. Nothing happened.
"Were you expecting something to happen?" asked Simon.
"Curious. Wands choose wizards, and this wand happens to think that you are not a wizard."
"I'm a mage. I'm worried that the wand won't be able to handle the amounts of power that I usually use."
"My wands are the best in Britain! Of course it will work."
Simon sighed, put up a shield, then sent a few watts through the wand. He selected the light spell. The wand tip started to glow softly. He pushed the power up to local background levels. The light was now about as bright as a lamp. He pushed it to one m-watt. The wand burst into flames. He dropped the shield. Looking concerned he said,
"I think that I'll take another wand."
"Most curious."
Olivander selected another wand.
"This is a more powerful wand. It, unlike the first wand, has two cores. Wandlore says that two cores, while not impossible, are incredibly difficult, but will grant extraordinary power to its user."
Olivander passed the wand to Simon. Simon put up a shield again, and passed a k-watt though it. He pushed it to ten k-watts, then one hundred. The wand heated up dangerously at three hundred k-watts.
"I think this one's fine. Still very underpowered, but I'll take it. For the second part of my request, could I have about a meter of oak wood, taken from the core of the tree?"
"Good heavens, that wand could challenge Dumbledore himself! And you say it's underpowered!"
"I'm used to using staves."
"Very well."
"Oh, do you have any steel?"
"Some."
"Great! Could I please have about a fifty kilograms of steel?"
"What's that in old units?"
"One hundred ten pounds, thereabouts."
"Hm. If you show me how to make a staff, you can have you whole order for free."
"Of course."
Olivander hurried into his back room, excited at a new development in wandcraft, something which comes so rarely. Olivander returned to the front of the shop to see Simon holding a blue glass slab, which was putting up an image of a series of crystals.
"Thank you."
Simon took the materials.
"A staff can be made out of any material, but I prefer steel-liked oak. First, we shape the staff's diameter to its user's hands."
Simon explained that a staff had to be easily gripped, and comfortable to hold.
"Generally, a staff should fit neatly in one's hands, with one's thumb over one's fingertips when you are holding it. Additionally, a staff should come to a user's shoulder. For me, that's about a meter and a half, or about five feet."
With a few gestures, the ends of the wood were chopped off, then the log was cut to size. It was then quickly shaved to size as well.
"Next, we take the shavings, and use those to make a reinforcing varnish layer. You don't have to transmute the shavings, I just don't like to waste good material."
With a few more waves, the staff was coated with an unobtrusive varnish.
"Then, we hollow out the staff, and line the inside with steel."
A few quick gestures shaped the steel bars into a steel can, then a few more elongated the can into a proper lining for a staff.
"We put the internal Glassware in, that's the actual magical parts of the staff. For mine, I've got a sensory and diagnostic system topper for the staff, a targeting system just under it, a whole whack of power cells and power collectors – I am in a higher background magic than my home, these should give me an extra ten g-joules with about one m-watt of power – and finally, add a shield spell formula."
Simon opened up the metal tube, pulled out a series of crystals from thin air, and slid them into the tube. He then opened up the top of the staff, put the tube in backwards, then put back the small slide of wood. He sealed up the bottom with a small dab of glue. Finally, he gathered together the waste materials, and bundled them up in a transmuted plastic bag.
"There. All done."
"Young man, does this actually work?"
"You bet it does. Here, I'll do some spellwork with it."
Simon looked at the staff, then popped a clear glass shield around himself into existence.
"Yup, it works."
"I have no words! This is extraordinary! Young man, you have just turned magic on its head!"
"So, can I have this?"
"Yes, of course you can."
"Thanks!"
Simon left the shop, holding the staff, wand in its box, and met up with McGonagall.