In a small, concealed manor in Serbia, a black-haired man sat cross-legged.
Judging by his face alone, he seemed to be an Asian man of around thirty. But if they looked into his eyes, most people would probably find it difficult to be certain.
For those deep eyes held far too many traces of the passing years.
Before the man stood a metal apparatus a full meter square. At its center was a strange design of black and white twisting together, like two peculiar fish. Around it were concentric rings of mysterious, intricate symbols.
Each ring slowly revolved. From time to time, the symbols reached a particular angle, and some of the symbols on the apparatus would flash.
The man stared intently at the apparatus before him, his fingers constantly moving through calculations. After a long while, he raised his head, rubbed his aching neck, and murmured:
"Strange. Everything clearly matches, so why is the result still wrong? What other variable is there? Why can't I find it? Is it because of that esteemed person, or something else?"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, the man gave a bitter laugh. "Do I have to use that again? This really is... terrible..." As he spoke, he gently raised a hand, and a house-elf immediately appeared beside him.
"Your orders, Master?" the house-elf asked.
"Go to the apothecary and get me another dose of medicine," the black-haired man said.
"Yes, Master." The house-elf answered and vanished on the spot. A few minutes later, the elf reappeared, now holding a small glass vial filled with a liquid that shone with brilliant golden light.
"Your medicine, Master." The house-elf respectfully placed the vial in the man's hand, hesitated, then could not help saying, "Master, your physical condition isn't suited to using that spell again.