After securing permission from his parents, Harry wasted no time implementing his ambitious plan. The very next morning, he sequestered himself in his chambers with the Blackstone pen, a stack of fresh scrolls, and intense concentration etched across his young face. His first challenge was forging the essential components—solar panels, batteries, copper wiring, and the fixtures that would house his electric lights.
Each piece required meticulous planning. Though X's knowledge repository provided him with comprehensive schematics, the actual forging process demanded precision and patience. Harry found himself occasionally muttering under his breath as he worked through the more intricate components.
"The solar cells need perfect alignment for maximum efficiency," he whispered to himself, focusing intently as the Blackstone pen's obsidian tip traced delicate patterns on the scroll. "And the battery storage capacity needs to be substantial enough to power the entire mansion through cloudy days..."
By midday, his chamber had transformed into a makeshift warehouse of technological marvels that had no business existing in this medieval-magical world—sleek, black solar panels with crystalline surfaces; cylindrical batteries encased in protective housings; coils of insulated copper wiring; and dozens of glass bulbs that seemed to capture sunlight within their transparent shells.
Harry stretched his cramped fingers and surveyed his creations with satisfaction. "Phase one complete," he announced to the empty room, though he knew X was listening. "Now for the implementation."
He summoned the mansion's servants and household staff, who gathered in the courtyard with expressions ranging from curiosity to outright skepticism. Harry stood before them, suddenly aware of how his eleven-year-old stature might undermine his authority. Straightening his posture, he cleared his throat and addressed the assembled workers with a confidence that belied his age.
"Today, we begin transforming this mansion into the most advanced residence in the entire kingdom," he proclaimed, gesturing to the pile of strange equipment beside him. "These panels need to be installed on the southern-facing sections of the roof, angled precisely at thirty degrees to maximize solar absorption."
The staff exchanged bewildered glances. Merton, the head groundskeeper who had served the family for over two decades, finally stepped forward, his weathered face creased with confusion.
"Begging your pardon, Young Master Harry," he began hesitantly, "but what exactly are these... contraptions? And how do you propose we secure them to the roof without damaging the imported slate tiles your mother so carefully selected?"
Harry smiled, appreciating the practical question. "A fair concern, Merton. That's precisely why I've designed specialized mounting brackets that distribute weight evenly across the roof's structure." He held up one of the metallic fixtures for demonstration. "And as for what they are—they're solar panels that will capture the sun's energy and convert it into power for a new type of lighting system."
The explanation, though concise, did little to dispel the confusion evident on their faces. Harry sighed, realizing he needed to simplify.
"Think of them as magical devices that trap sunlight and allow us to release it later at will," he offered, knowing the comparison was scientifically inaccurate but conceptually accessible.
This explanation seemed to resonate better with the staff. Several heads nodded in understanding, and the atmosphere shifted from confusion to intrigue.
Fortunately, most of the household staff were either trained in basic combat magic or former knights—a common practice among noble families seeking both service and protection. Their enhanced strength and magical abilities made the installation process far more efficient than Harry had initially calculated.
Under his direction, they carefully positioned the solar panels across the mansion's southern roof. The panels gleamed like obsidian mirrors under the midday sun, transforming the traditional manor's silhouette into something both ancient and futuristic.
As the last panel was secured into place, Harry nodded with approval. "Excellent work, everyone. The power source is now established."
But his next step presented a more delicate challenge—he needed the mansion's architectural blueprints to plan the wiring pathways. This meant confronting his father, who guarded such documents jealously. The mansion's design had been a point of pride for his parents since they'd acquired their noble status, and any suggestion of modification would require diplomatic finesse.
Harry found Lor in his study, surrounded by stacks of correspondence and financial ledgers—the endless paperwork that came with managing their territory. Without announcing his presence, Harry strode purposefully into the room, startling his father who was deep in concentration.
"Harry?" Lor looked up, his quill pausing mid-stroke. His eyebrow arched questioningly, a habit Harry had inherited. "What brings you here with such... determination?"
Harry stood before the massive oak desk, hands clasped behind his back in a posture of respectful authority. "Father, I require the mansion's complete architectural blueprints."
Lor leaned back in his leather chair, studying his son with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. The lantern light caught the silver streaks in his dark hair as he tilted his head. "And may I inquire as to why my eleven-year-old son suddenly needs detailed structural information about our home?"
"The next phase of my project requires precise modifications to accommodate the power distribution system," Harry explained, maintaining eye contact. "I need to run wiring through the walls to connect the solar collectors to the lighting fixtures I've designed."
Lor's expression shifted from curiosity to concern. "You want to... alter the walls? Harry, this mansion has stood for over a century. Its construction is both historical and magical in nature."
"I understand your concerns," Harry replied, his tone reassuring yet firm. "But the modifications will be minimal and nearly invisible once completed. The end result will transform how we live, Father. No more reliance on fire for light, no more smoke damage to mother's tapestries, no more risk of accidental blazes."
Lor fell silent, weighing his son's words against his own reservations. After what seemed like an eternity, he sighed deeply and reached into the bottom drawer of his desk. The drawer opened with a soft click that suggested magical locking mechanisms rather than physical ones.
"Here," he said finally, extracting a rolled parchment sealed with the family crest. "These are the complete blueprints, including the magical conduits and structural support beams." He fixed Harry with a stern gaze as he handed over the document. "But understand this—if your experiment damages the structural integrity of this house, you'll be explaining it to your mother. And we both know how particular she is about her home."
Harry couldn't suppress a grin as he accepted the precious blueprints. "Thank you, Father. I promise you won't regret this decision. Within days, this mansion will be the envy of every noble house in the kingdom."
Lor shook his head with bemused resignation. "Your confidence would be alarming if it weren't for your demonstrated aptitude." He waved a dismissive hand. "Go on, then. Transform our home with your... what did you call it? Science?"
Armed with the blueprints, Harry gathered the workers in the grand hall, unrolling the architectural plans across a massive table. The staff huddled around, their expressions shifting from curiosity to horror as Harry outlined the next steps.
"We'll need to create channels through these walls," he explained, tracing pathways with his finger, "approximately three inches wide and deep enough to accommodate the wiring conduits."
The head housekeeper, a stern woman named Meredith who had managed the household for as long as Harry could remember, visibly paled. "Y-Young Master Harry, you want us to... deliberately damage the walls of your parents' home?" Her voice trembled with the mere suggestion of such sacrilege.
"Not damage—modify," Harry corrected, meeting her horrified gaze with calm assurance. "And only temporarily. Once the conduits are in place, we'll restore the walls completely."
The gathered staff remained frozen, exchanging apprehensive glances. One of the younger footmen finally voiced what everyone was thinking. "But Young Master, even with permission... cutting into the very walls of a noble house... it feels wrong."
Harry understood their hesitation. In a world where buildings of this caliber represented not just wealth but family legacy and status, what he was proposing bordered on architectural heresy. He needed to bridge the gap between their traditional mindset and his futuristic vision.
"I understand your concerns," he said, softening his tone. "Consider this—the ancient builders who constructed this mansion couldn't have anticipated the advancements we've discovered since. Were they here today, wouldn't they want their creation to benefit from new knowledge? We're not destroying their work; we're honoring it by allowing it to evolve."
His words seemed to resonate, though uncertainty still lingered in their expressions. Harry decided a more direct approach was needed.
"Look," he said firmly, drawing himself up to his full height, meager as it was, "I take full responsibility for these modifications. If anyone questions your actions, direct them to me. Now, shall we begin transforming this mansion into the most advanced residence in the kingdom, or would you prefer to continue lighting rooms with open flames like we're still in the dark ages?"
The challenge in his voice sparked something in the staff—curiosity, perhaps, or the thrill of participating in something revolutionary. Gradually, nods of agreement rippled through the assembled workers.
With renewed determination, they began the delicate task of creating pathways through the mansion's walls. The most skilled stone mages used precision spells to carve perfect channels without disturbing the surrounding structure. Woodworkers carefully removed and preserved ornate moldings that would need to be replaced later. Every step was executed with meticulous attention to detail under Harry's watchful eye.
As the physical pathways took shape, Harry supervised the installation of the copper wiring, ensuring proper insulation and connection points throughout the mansion. When questions arose about unusual junctions or complex routing, he provided solutions with such authority that the workers soon forgot they were taking direction from a child.
By late afternoon, as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, the wiring network was complete. The earth mages among the staff stepped forward, using their specialized magic to seamlessly restore the walls, leaving no trace of the day's invasive work. What remained invisible within the structure was a complex grid of electrical pathways connecting every room to the central power system.
The final step was installing the lighting fixtures—elegant glass bulbs mounted in brass housings that Harry had designed to complement the mansion's existing aesthetic. As twilight deepened into dusk, an air of anticipation settled over the estate. The day's labor had left everyone exhausted but curious to see if their work would yield the miraculous results their young master had promised.
Harry sent word throughout the mansion, requesting that his family and the entire household staff gather in the grand hall at precisely eight bells. As the appointed hour approached, people began filing into the massive chamber, their voices hushed with expectation.
The hall remained unusually dark. None of the traditional oil lamps or candelabras had been lit, leaving the space illuminated only by the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the high windows. The assembled crowd shifted uncomfortably in the growing darkness.
Frigga, elegant even in her confusion, was the first to question the unusual conditions. "Harry, darling," she called out, her voice carrying across the murmuring crowd, "why have you instructed the servants not to light the hall? Even with enhanced vision, this darkness is becoming rather impractical."
Harry emerged from the shadows near the main entrance, his silhouette barely visible against the deeper darkness behind him. Those close enough could see the confident smile playing across his young face.
"Just a moment longer, Mother," he replied, his voice steady with barely contained excitement. "I wanted everyone to experience the full effect."
He approached a small panel he had installed near the grand doorway—an inconspicuous brass plate with a single lever protruding from its center. The gathered crowd watched in curious silence as Harry placed his hand on the lever.
"For centuries," he announced, his voice carrying through the darkened hall, "humanity has relied on fire to push back the darkness. Tonight, we take a step beyond that ancient limitation."
With a dramatic flourish, he pulled the lever downward.
In an instant, the grand hall was transformed. Dozens of glass bulbs blazed to life simultaneously, bathing the vast chamber in brilliant, unwavering light that seemed to banish every shadow. The illumination was so pure, so steady compared to the flickering flames they were accustomed to, that several gasps of shock echoed through the hall.
The crystal chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceiling, now fitted with multiple electric bulbs, cast rainbows across the marble floor as the light refracted through its countless facets. Wall sconces glowed with steady radiance, revealing artwork and tapestries in colors more vivid than torchlight had ever managed to display.
The courtyard beyond the tall windows was equally transformed. Path lights stood like sentinels along the garden walkways, turning night into a gentle twilight that revealed the carefully tended landscape in soft detail.
The initial shock gave way to a stunned silence. Every face turned upward or outward, eyes wide with wonder at the magical-seeming miracle. Many instinctively shielded their eyes, unprepared for such brightness after sunset.
The servants, who had spent the day installing the mysterious contraptions, stared in disbelief at the fruits of their labor. Their whispers gradually grew into exclamations of amazement.
"By the ancient ones," breathed Merton, the skeptical groundskeeper who had questioned Harry earlier. "The young master has captured daylight itself!"
"Look how steady it burns," marveled Meredith, the housekeeper. "No flickering, no smoke... it's as if he's tamed the sun."
Lily, who had been watching from beside Frigga, could contain her excitement no longer. She darted forward, spinning in place beneath the central chandelier, her face alight with childlike wonder.
"Harry, it's magnificent!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands with delight. "I can see every detail as clearly as midday! How is this possible without magic? Can we keep it like this all the time? Can my chambers have twice as many lights?"
Her enthusiasm proved contagious, breaking the spell of silence that had fallen over the gathering. Soon everyone was talking at once, pointing at different fixtures, moving closer to examine the strange glass bulbs that emitted light without flame.
Through it all, Lor and Frigga remained near the entrance, their expressions a complex mixture of pride, astonishment, and the slightest hint of concern at this dramatic departure from everything familiar.
Frigga finally approached her son, her steps measured and graceful despite her evident surprise. "Harry," she began, her voice soft yet clear enough to carry to those nearby, "what exactly have you created? This isn't like any illumination spell I've ever witnessed."
Harry turned to face his mother, standing tall with the pride of genuine accomplishment. "This is electricity, Mother. These lights convert the sun's energy—which we've captured and stored using the roof panels—into pure illumination. They require no fuel, produce no smoke or heat, and will never accidentally set the drapes ablaze."
Lor joined them, his analytical mind already cataloging the potential implications. "And you maintain that this system uses absolutely no magical energy? No mana consumption whatsoever?"
"None," Harry confirmed with a definitive nod. "It's purely scientific—technology that operates on natural principles rather than magical manipulation. What you're seeing is the conversion of sunlight into storable energy, then into visible light. It's the same principle that makes lightning illuminate the sky, just harnessed and controlled."
Frigga's gaze traveled around the transformed hall, her expression thoughtful. "The applications could be... revolutionary," she said slowly, the weight of realization settling over her features. "If this system truly operates independent of magical resources..."
"It means illumination is no longer limited to those with magical ability or wealth to purchase enchanted items," Harry finished for her. "Eventually, anyone could have access to light after sunset."
Lor rubbed his chin contemplatively, his eyes narrowing as they often did when he considered the broader implications of new information. "You accomplished all of this—from concept to implementation—in a single day?"
"The physical installation took most of the day," Harry admitted, "but the concepts and designs were already complete in my mind." He tapped his temple, careful not to reveal too much about X's knowledge transfer. "Once I visualized the system, forging the components was straightforward."
The household butler, Thorne, approached with a respectful bow. Though typically the embodiment of proper reserve, even he couldn't conceal his fascination. "Young Master Harry, forgive my forwardness, but I must ask—is this remarkable system limited to our household, or do you envision broader applications?"
Harry's expression brightened at the question, revealing the true scope of his ambition. "This installation is merely a prototype, Thorne. A proof of concept. Eventually, I intend to illuminate not just our mansion, but our entire territory. Imagine streets without darkness, workshops where craftsmen could work safely after sunset, libraries where scholars could study without straining their eyes by candlelight."
His words painted a vivid picture that left many in the crowd wide-eyed with the possibilities. The very concept seemed to challenge the fundamental limitations they had accepted as immutable facts of existence.
Lily tugged insistently at Harry's sleeve, her excitement undiminished. "Harry, you absolutely must install extra lights in my chambers! I want to read at night without those dreadful candles that make the pages yellow and sometimes drip wax on my books!"
Harry chuckled, wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulders. "I promise, Lily. By tomorrow evening, your room will be the brightest in the mansion. You'll have special reading lamps positioned perfectly beside your favorite chair."
As the excitement continued throughout the hall, Frigga and Lor exchanged meaningful glances—a silent communication developed over years of partnership. Both recognized that what they were witnessing wasn't merely clever innovation but potentially the beginning of profound change.
"Our son has accomplished something extraordinary," Frigga murmured, just loudly enough for Lor to hear above the din of excited conversation.
Lor nodded slowly, pride and apprehension mingling in his expression. "Beyond extraordinary, my dear. What he's demonstrated today would challenge the finest dwarven master craftsmen—perhaps even surpass them."
"Do you think he truly understands the implications?" she asked, watching as Harry enthusiastically explained the lighting system to a cluster of curious servants.
"I'm not certain either of us fully comprehends the implications," Lor replied thoughtfully. "But one thing is abundantly clear—our Harry is no ordinary child. And whatever path his abilities lead him down..."
"It will certainly be illuminating," Frigga finished, a small smile playing at her lips as she watched her son sharing his knowledge with an increasingly captivated audience.
Throughout the mansion, steady electric light pushed back the darkness that had ruled nights since time immemorial, symbolic of the greater changes that Harry's "science" would soon bring to a world long governed by magic and its limitations.