Erebus had never seen a homunculus before he attended his Pataphysics class. Simply known as the Little Tutor, it was a clay man about a foot high, dressed only in a faded smoking jacket. It carried in one hand a clay wand that was apparently just for show.
The Little Tutor only met students on a one-to-one basis, and due to not really understanding the challenge system, he was the only teacher who would teach any material to any division. But given that the class was almost all theory, there were rarely any challenges issued by the students which drew on Pataphysics alone. Erebus was allocated a slot early in the morning on his second day in. He was still tired from the late night before, so he took some pep powder he still had stocked in his belt of spell components.
A little bit too pepped up, Erebus jittered his way through into the Little Tutor's office. There was a long couch like you might see in a psychiatrist's office, attached to which was small flip down table for note taking. Opposite, on wide pedestal was a tiny desk and behind that desk was the clay teacher. Erebus took a seat in the chair and the lesson began promptly.
"You are a new student," the clay figure said in a strange hollow voice. "Please state the name you wish to be referred to."
"Uh, Erebus. Erebus Flint."
"I heard that as Uh Erebus Erebus Flint. Is that correct?"
"Just Erebus!"
"Very well Just Erebus. I am the Little Tutor. I am the physical proof of the value of learning Pataphysics . In our classes I will teach you everything my creator taught when he was a teacher at this institute."
"Who was your creator?" Erebus asked, though knowing full well he'd be unlikely to have heard of any former Durmstrang teacher.
"I will not tell you who created me. That knowledge has been removed from me. Now, Just Erebus, I will attempt to assess your current state of knowledge so that we might be efficient with your limited lifespan. Tell me, what do you think Pataphysics is?"
Erebus tried to think back on the brief conversations he'd had with Ditte about the subject. "Uh, something about souls? Why creating horcruxes is a bad idea?"
"I have judged that the best place to start this class is…" The clay figure stalled for a moment. There was a faint, hollow ticking sound for a few moments before it continued. "...the very beginning. Pataphysics is the study of what lies beyond metaphysics. It is the study of the underlying structure of magic itself. And yes, it is the study of the wizard's soul and how it can be copied, split or merged and the concordant perils. In this class you will learn the theory of how self-portraits may be created, and should you continue your studies for some years, you may even learn how to create homunculi like myself."
"So it's not about horcruxes?" Everyone at Hogwarts learned of how the dreaded Voldemort had split his soul into phylacteries known as horcruxes in order to attain immortality. As he had been defeated, it turned out he would have lived much longer living as a regular wizard.
"The theory of horcruxes is on the syllabus," replied the Little Tutor, "but is only taught after the student has been made clear of the foolishness in creating them. Now, let us begin. Magic is not a logical thing but it is not wholly without structure, indeed..."
Erebus furiously scribbled notes as the homunculus introduced him to the basics Pataphysics. His head was swimming with new concepts when he finally left the class. Over late morning snacks of stuffed grape leaves, Ditte and Himmel, the oldest student, quizzed Erebus on his understanding of this new subject. Ditte had just come back from a run and was dressed for it, though even her shorts and t-shirt has the Tin emblem on them. Himmel was wearing a bulky one-piece over-suit and a bulbous glass helmet sat on his lap.
"So if I'm getting this straight," said Erebus, trying to interpret the hastily written scrawl of his notes, "when a new spell is created, it ties the spell effect to a spoken incantation, which then creates a pathway of magic that anyone can then access? What does that even mean?"
"Magic is ancient, right?" says Himmel. "Most magical discovery, almost all of new potions, just uncovering the weird effects inherent in magical beings, materials, astrological conjunctions, all that, right?"
"Uh… right?" said Erebus, not entirely sure what was right.
"But new spells are created all the time," Himmel continued. "Any wizard worth their salt will make a spell or two in their time. Some make loads." Erebus knew Himmel had used a German idiom which had translated in real time into the English "worth their salt", which was still confusing to reflect upon. "When those spells are created, that's the wizard extending their magic will, just like the magic you must have done as a child before learning. But they tie that will to a new word, to a series of wand gestures, to a deed that needs doing, or a combination of magical materials. It depends on the spell. But then, once you've done that, any wizard can access the spell. Once you've beaten a path to new possible state, anyone can follow."
"Huh," said Erebus. "But if it's any old incantation, then why are most spells in cod Latin?"
"It's definitely not any old incantation. The words have to have the right power and that comes from the meaning already tied up in them."
"Connotative residuum," Ditte said.
"So using a root language like Latin is usually necessary," said Himmel. "But if you were in, say, Chad, you'd be using mostly Afrasian roots."
"Comparative language spell casting is basically the only reason anyone in their right mind would want to study at Beauxbatons," said Ditte with a strong air of derision.
"What about when you sort of smush spells together? What's going on there?" Erebus asked.
The others looked at him blankly. Erebus tried to mime smushing the spells together but it wasn't clarifying in the slightest.
"So let's say you wanted to modify a Growth Charm, completely hypothetically here..." said Erebus. "but say you wanted to use it on yourself safely and have a bit of longevity to it, so you focus the effects on the self with a bit fluxweed?" The others continued to look on in puzzlement, so Erebus barrelled on. "But also, you want the effect to be bounded, like you don't want to just grow, you want to just be the same height as others, so you take the linking part of the Switching Spell's incantation..."
"Either you're amazing at deconstructing transfiguration, or you're talking complete nonsense," said Himmel.
Erebus's mind flashed back to the growth incident in the Great Hall. He turned red involuntarily and decided not to change the topic.
"I've got to do something tonight," he said. "If this were Hogwarts it'd be super forbidden, but the rules here are just about not killing each other or embarrassing the school. Any chance either of you would..."
"Help you out?" said Himmel. "Sorry kid, it's a important conjunction tonight. I'm not leaving the roof." With that he got up and put the huge glass bowl helmet over his head, gave the other two gloved thumbs up and wandered off.
"What are you planning?" Ditte asked after Himmel had left.
"Well first I need to get into the basement of the Lead tower," said Erebus.
All the colour left Ditte's face and her eyes widened. "I'm sorry I can't go there. And if you value your life, you shouldn't either."
"Why not?"
"Erklings," said Ditte, shuddering. "Last year a Gold student, an honest-to-goodness Gold, one of the best in the school, went into the basement. She was after Erkling blood for a potion. They only recovered her boots!"
"I'm not going to steal blood. I was going to let them free," said Erebus.
"Why?!" Ditte was aghast. "You know they eat children, right?"
"Well, still..."
Ditte was firm. "It's been nice knowing you Mr Flint. I wish all the best in the afterlife and if you come back as a ghost I look forward to telling you I told you so to your face."
Glum, dejected, and still digesting the unfamiliar Bulgarian food, Erebus walked down the stairs of the Tin tower on his way to his next lesson. By the tapestry entrance, he heard a voice behind him.
"I overheard what you're going to do." It was Zornitsa, the youngest student in the division. Even in the gloom of the stairwell, her eyes were clearly red.
"And you also want to tell me I've got troll brain?" said Erebus.
"No." she said. Her voice was quiet but intense.
"Well what?" asked Erebus.
"You're doing the right thing and I want to help."