Chapter 2: Chapter 2
She was a waif of a girl. A strong wind would blow her over. She was supposed to save wizarding Britain.
She was destined to die .
It wasn't her. It was this world. Voldemort. His minions. They were all dialed up to ten.
There was one thing I forgot to mention. My resets - they did't go past the Battle of Hogwarts. I had no clue why. I could only guess it was because she died. Maybe fate was so tied to that one night that the magic of the artifact couldn't push passed it.
Whether I lived or died. Bam. Reset.
Iris Potter. How could I save you?
"What's this? Pee-pee-body got a crush?" an annoying voice said. "Hey, Potter!" he cried out at the girl across the crowded train causing her to turn from where she was about to enter the next train car alongside a bushy haired girl.
It was the end of third year. We were just boarding the Hogwarts Express.
Damn it Malfoy, I was not creeping on a teenage girl. I was brooding over the fate of the world here. If only you knew how old I really was...
I was an adult. I couldn't lower myself to his level.
"Peabody-"
"Alarte Ascendare," I muttered causing a loud bang. It was actually a medium level spell. It caused a target to go flying in the air. If used by a powerful wizard, it could make someone shoot high enough to fall and injure themselves. At my best, I might be able to knock Malfoy's head against the train cart ceiling.
Instead I cast in on his robes causing them to shoot over his head and reveal his underwear. Golden snitches. And for good measure, "Reducio." Malfoy's squawk of outrage raised an octave.
That was a very underrated spell.
Seriously. I made one crack about the guy and his dad, and he marked me for death. I was nameless Hufflepuff number twelve. No one was supposed to notice me.
The train suddenly burst into laughter. Goyle scrambled to lower his master's robes. Crabbe had the presence of mind to try to grab me, but I already slipped through the crowd. I squeezed past Iris doubled over laughing and past a half-smiling, half-judging Hermione. I immediately entered the loo.
"Hoopy," I called softy. With a pop my house elf appeared in the sink, half falling over my face. Just then the door opened.
I glanced over. "Hey Cedric. Just trying to get a little alone time here," I said.
"Uh," Cedric said his eyes turning to saucers. I slammed the door and locked it this time.
"Awkward. Muffliato," I said.
"Why's master called Hoopy," Hoopy croaked in a irritable voice. My house elf was kind of a cross between Dobby and Kreacher making for a semi-broody very crazy combination.
"Now, Hoopy. You know it's the end of the year, and they finished the head count. I need you to pop me over to Knockturn alley. But first ice cream."
"Mummy said not to be goings to Knockturn, master," Hoopy said.
"Well mummy's not here, is she?" I said in a mocking tone. "And mummy won't be at the train station to pick me up."
Now my mom and dad definitely took the hands off approach. Dad had the patent for a cauldron cleaning solution and spent most of the time running the business. Not glamorous, but fairly lucrative. Mum was a successful magical artist and traveled a lot.
"Anyway, we can be back at the station in time for Charlie to pick us up, not that it even matters."
I would apparate there myself, but I simply lacked the magical juice. That might actually be changing...
I had a theory for that. That the resets sent my soul to the past. Seeing as how magic might be tied to the soul...well. Maybe I was getting stronger? I still had tests to run to confirm this. Even if I started off in the negatives, as long as I kept gaining even a little power, one day I might even catch up to Dumbledore.
At least, I liked to tell myself that.
"Now, pop me over to Knockturn or you're getting the sock."
Hoopy shuddered in displeasure. "You would never."
It took some maneuvering and my hip popped, but I managed to get my now shoeless foot on the sink where I grabbed my sock. "Try me, Hoopy. And then no more mummy," I said in a high pitch tone.
Yeah, the house elf has a weird thing for my mom. I choose not to dwell overly on these things.
Hoopy twisted his pillow case toga in indecision but finally gave in.
--------------------------------
I pulled the hood of my cloak lower. Yeah, Knockturn is a lot worse than it is in the books.
"Want to play, baby," a witch said pulling back her robe to reveal some leg.
No thanks lady. I kept going. "Hey, mister," a guy said reaching into his robe and revealing a potion flask. "I've got some Odin's eye here. Want to look into the future? Into the past? You can see your dreams, your soul!" the guy yelled after me as I kept walking.
At best you get mugged. Or just propositioned. At worse you get kidnapped and sold for potion ingredients.
Yeah, personally I didn't like coming here, but occasionally I had need to meet people with a certain moral flexibility.
I stopped at a wall with wizarding graffiti. It depicted an eight-eyed wolf smoking a cigarette.
"There can be only one," I said.
The wolf paused it's smoking to hock a loogy to the side. "What's that?"
"Jerry, open up you ass hat. It's me."
"Will? Alright hold on," the wolf seemed to say. In the smoke of the cigarette, a tiny door seemed to appear. I tapped it with my wand. The wolf opened up its mouth wide enough to devour me, and I stepped through.
Jerry Sin's Emporium - this guy was actually pretty cool. He was American, which I was as well once upon a time, and actually a muggle-born, not that he'd let anyone know that.
I caught him making one too many pop culture references. The real pure-bloods didn't know any better though. The ones who did, wouldn't care in the first place.
Better yet, if you were "in" on the jokes, he gave a little discount.
Stepping through the wolf's mouth I ended up in the real store. Hand of glory. A legit voodoo doll. Cursed items. The works. The really cool stuff was in the back though.
"Jill," I said to the clerk with a nod. She was cute, but a little goth. I bet she was in Slytherin. She didn't stop me as I slipped into the back. I knocked on the door.
It's not as if I was keyed into the wards. Jerry and I were cool, but not that cool. The door opened to the good stuff.
Namely, guns. Lots of guns.
Yeah, there was definitely a market for illegally enchanted muggle items of all sorts among certain crowds. Before anyone gets too excited, there were drawbacks.
For one thing, bullets didn't work well against magic. A second year could throw up a protego good enough to block the bullets. Unless it was sheer force or mass, shields could take a lot of non-magical damage.
Magical bullets were a thing, but you had to put the runes on each and every bullet, and even then the magical charge wouldn't hold up well. Plus they were balls expensive.
No, these guns were more commonly used for irreputables who liked having bottomless magazines for gunning down masses of muggles. Mostly mercenary types actually.
"What's up Will?" Jerry said.
I didn't actually buy much muggle stuff from Jerry. Enchanted landmines might work if they took the wizards by surprise, but they were indiscriminate. Not the kind of thing I had in mind for my next project.
"I need some instant darkness powder. A cloak of invisibility. Nothing fancy. One of the 24 hour ones, will do. And I need you to charge this," I said placing a stone about the size of a boulder on the work table.
It was already carved with runes.
Here's the thing with enchanting and runes. Normally only one person could provide the magic for the item. Doubling up on it might seem to make sense, but the magic kind of just didn't harmonize, and the items tended to break down. Only really special, or really big material could take that density of magic.
Like really big ward stones. Or maybe some super magical ingredients that I didn't exactly have access too. I understood the rune theories, but I couldn't charge them. At least, not on the scale I needed.
In addition, charging in increments worked, but every charge damaged the enchantment itself. By the time I could charge a rune set to where it would be effective, the enchantment would breakdown.
I liked Jerry because the guy was a magical hauss. He had the sheer oomph that I needed for most of my little tricks to work.
"How much charge you need?" he asked eyeing me seriously.
"How about Dumbledore?" I said.
"Shit," he said wiping his dark brow with a rag. "That shits going to cost you."
It'd mean no casting for at least a week. He'd have to save up all that magic and push it into this one rune set.
"I need it August 24th. I know it's kind of early to place the order, but I want it juiced it at 4pm sharp. Throw in some tracers. And the standard escape package"
"What kind of stuff you getting into you need that kind of power?" he said eyeing the rune work.
"Nothing so serious, man. I'm just going to see a quidditch game."
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DaoOfSystems
DaoOfSystems This is my first story - actually my simultaneous first story with Magical Me. I just started writing on a whim, but it's kind of fun. I want to see how far I can take it. Also, I am writing Magical Me in a different tense, so if I suddenly change tense that's why. Take pity and leave a comment. Thanks
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