Kapitel 314: 3
[Following the Ghost Event]
…
Quirrell is a lot jumpier now. Which means…what? That he was the ghost?
That he was aware of it, at least. I can't imagine Quirrell having the power to turn into a semi-solid anything…or be given the power to turn into a semi-solid anything.
What was that thing, anyways? I know it was CancerMort, but still.
Maybe him living a 'half life' literally meant he was short a body.
Yeah, but…he was able to drink. Unless it's some more magical bullshit™ where he's not actually drinking it but absorbing it somehow.
That sounds like the type of lie you'd tell as a kid if you got caught with a girl (or a guy, depending).
What a weird-ass lie that would be. In any event, Quirrell is now a lot more squirrelly, especially when we're around.
Unfortunately Quirrell is a theory-type teacher (that is, he rarely shows off with his wand) so I can't confirm if the wand I destroyed happened to be his. Going up and just asking would be incredibly suspicious, even for me, and most of the older students I've talked to don't know either…but then again Quirrell was apparently always a theory-type, so him not waving his wand around is hardly unusual.
…
[Mirror of Erised]
…
I know Harry found it. He's oddly listless recently.
The amount of fucks I give is a number equal to zero, though, especially as I've made a fundamental breakthrough in spellwork:
A spell's power is dependent on three things: Intention, execution, and power…tion.
Power is pretty self-explanatory: stronger mages make stronger spells.
Execution is what we're here to learn: a spell has a 'proper' way to cast it, and flubbing the cast is a good way to fail the spell entirely. Note that this is related to, but not entirely based on, incantation.
If it was, native scots in Hogwarts would be fucked.
Intention is the big one, and one that I missed…not because I didn't know it was a requirement, but because I didn't think it would be a requirement for all spells.
Note how intent is needed for the Unforgivables…it's true for all spells, but it's just stressed for the Unforgivables as they require such a serious mental commitment to even work properly.
This is important, hugely important, because so long as I fulfill the three categories, I'll be able to craft custom spells. Granted, just fulfilling the categories is only step one, but…
We'll be able to craft some more basic spell components though, in much the same way as being able to craft gears lets us do things with the gears but is in no way conducive to the production of a car.
To that end.
One day in the hallways…
"What's that floating over your head, Ash?" Neville asks (the trio is off to the grounds).
He points to the small crystal circling slowly over my head.
"It's a prism core…or a prism bit. I'm not sure yet." I say.
"What does it do?" Neville asks curiously.
We're on good terms due to a bartering system – Neville helps us with Herbology (which we like but do not have the time for) and we help him with Charms. We also help blast the people who mess with him into proverbial smithereens (and teach Neville to do the same…though with questionable success).
Neville's a softie. It would be more endearing if he wasn't such a bully magnet…anyways!
"It…uh…does this." It would be easier just to show him. Let's see…
We focus and channel our power into the prism, and it orients itself at the fireplace.
It then discharges three pulses of light in quick succession into the fire.
"It's an attacking spell?" Neville notes. "Are you alright?" He asks once he realizes we're panting a bit.
I nod. "Yeah; I'm still not used to moving it."
The creation of the prism bit landed us in the hospital on five different occasions, all due to exhaustion.
And even after all that I still can't move the prism as I want. I can only get it to circle and aim, and fire, and that's it. It's annoying. The discharge is pretty weak to boot.
"That's pretty cool." Neville says. "I wish I had your talent, Ash."
That got us to laugh. "How long do I spend working, Neville? There's no talent here, just a lot of failing until I get it right."
"Y-yeah." Neville's heard that from us a lot of times.
"Besides, you're doing pretty well yourself." I taught him to use Lumos Maxima as a flashbang. He has been using it a lot.
"Only because of the spells you use." Neville smiles sheepishly.
…
…which brings up the secondary problem with using custom spells that I haven't tackled yet, and that is, quite simply, the prestige.
It's pretty much a given at this point among the Hogwarts students and staff that if a section of the castle suddenly experiences a sharp change in illumination, we're involved somehow.
I think Fred and George have made some amount of money selling smuggled muggle sunglasses.
Inside Hogwarts, the fact that I'm pretty much a sun in little child form is quaint. I get exaggerated responses but most people recognize that I'm harmless, if mildly insane.
Exceptions include people who have seen us use the Prismatic Beam.
Give us a few years, some more spells, and some action outside of Hogwarts, and we'll pretty much be asking to get stabbed in the back by an enterprising Death Eater.
That's something I need to be aware of for the future, I guess.
…
About the only interesting for the Mirror for us is that Harry made a point to hide the fact that he found a mirror that shows 'innermost desire' from us…it says a lot about Harry's ability to recognize danger, actually.
Fun fact: We've skipped going to dinner every other day, instead opting to have the House-Elves deliver food to us instead.
I feel like Dumbledore might take issue with that, but eh, if he does he does…I need every spare minute I can get right now.
For now, I've made two lesser spells to add to our repertoire.
Spell One – The Prism Bits. As their name suggests, they're miniature prisms that I move around. What separates them from the prismatic lens (the smaller parts of the Prismatic Beam spell) is the fact that they're designed to both a. carry weight, and b. redirect the beam's flight path.
I wanted to make them attack as well, but it's not working out, so I might as well just scrap that part.
Spell Two – Wind of Sleep. It combines potions with charms to create the fastest way to knock some poor sap out. While I can adjust the intensity of the spell, it's designed as a specific counter to Fluffy if things go south.
We're lying a little bit: the spell's actually a mix of charms and transfiguration, and uses primarily knowledge of chemistry rather than straight up potions.
The downside is that I need to carry ingredients for the spell, so it's some more weight next to the prisms.
Like, it's cool to make prisms with magic but the cost makes it hard to cast the spell from the ground up while also having options, y'know?
…
…
…
[Book 1 Endgame]
…
Dumbledore has left!
Snape is evil!
Much as we tried to dissuade the trio of the Snape business…he just loved black too much in the end.
McGonagall disbelieves of our disbelief of their defenses!
Quirrell is nowhere to be seen!
At least we won't be blindsided this time.
Flitwick doesn't play a part in this section of the narrative!
I have perfected my Prism bits! Or as much as an eleven year old can.
We're still sneaking out during the night, though.
…and as expected, Neville was there waiting to stop us.
…
Blah blah blah, House Points, blah blah blah, we're saving the world…
Yadda yadda yadda, power of friendship…
We're skipping over their dialogue because we really don't remember. It's been decades since we've read Book One. This is, after all, an incredibly egocentric story.
…
"Neville, I'm really really sorry about this." Hermione preemptively apologizes and then pulls her wand. "Petri-"
"-ficus Totalus." Neville gets his spell off before she does. He misses, but it's enough to shock Hermione, and she doesn't finish her cast.
This is impressive because he pulled his wand after she apologized. I know he's standing against us right now but I'm just so happy.
"I mean it, I'll fight you." Neville repeats, his wand shaking.
I've been staying out of the conversation up until now, so now's a good time to jump in.
"Nev." I step forward. "I know how you feel."
…wait a second.
All hands! About face!
"Why don't we let him come with us?" I ask Harry.
"What?" Ron and Neville say together. "Why him?" Ron demands.
Because he's more useful than you…but I can't say that. "He just out-spelled Hermione. I think he deserves to come along."
"I don't want to go along; you're going to get us all in trouble!" Neville complains…quite rightly.
…I just realized that if Harry just stayed in bed for the endgame of book one nothing bad would've happened. Shit.
Not necessarily. It might've just postponed the finding of the stone until later.
And the more we go off the rails in terms of the storyline, the less I'll be able to pre-empt the threats, huh…
I nod. "Yeah…but right now we're facing something more dangerous than just house points. Look, Nev, either you stay out of this or you come with us. Every second we spend talking is one where bad things will happen. I know you want to protect the honor of the house, and I respect that, which is why if you do intend to fight us, I will drop you."
Neville thinks on it for a few seconds. "Ok, I'm going with you."
Whew.
"I don't think the cloak will be big enough to cover all of us." Harry mutters.
"It's fine." I ready my wand. "Not the first time I'm out after hours."
"Why am I not surprised?" Ron sighs, and we get underway.
…
We make it to the forbidden corridor unhindered, but probably far from undetected, and soon stop at the threshold of Fluffy's doorstep.
The four of them squeezed under the cloak, and we just strutted about like we owned the damn place.
"What are we going to do about Fluffy?" I ask the trio.
"Who's Fluffy?" Neville asks.
"I brought this." Harry pulls a flute from his cloak. "Hagrid said he'll go to sleep with a little music."
"Who's Fluffy?" Neville asks again.
"A Cerberus." I answer. "Now c'mon, time's a wastin'."
We open the door and…yep, that's Fluffy. Three heads, three necks…three drools, one big.
Big is now a noun of measurement.
We're missing the harp from the movie though.
Harry starts playing on the flute.
I feel like the flute is enchanted, since Harry is not fucking it up like an amateur should.
Just because we're bad at music…
Yeah, yeah…anyways, Fluffy goes to bed.
I take charge. "Let's go."
Ron opposes my charge. "Do you even know where we're going?"
Hermione steals the charge. "There's a trap door at his foot, now come on."
…
Wow, this sucks.
One of Fluffy's heads is on the trap door.
"Now what?" Ron asks blankly.
I retake charge! Yeah! "Now? The three of you Wingardium its head away from the trap door while I prepare a plan B if that fails."
"R-right." Ron whips out his wand, and along with Hermione and Neville gently magic Fluffy's middle head from the trapdoor.
Predictably, Fluffy's not happy about having his head lifted by unknown forces, and begins to stir despite the power of Harry's music.
"Uh…Ash? Your Plan B?" Ron asks uncertainly as Fluffy wakes up and backs away in instinct from the little children suddenly in front of it. The dog quickly regains his composure though, and growls threateningly at us.
"Yeah, cover your noses." I feel a little bad for stealing spell names, but eh. "Wind of Sleep, Nebula Hypnotica."
Current record: two thefts in one spell name.
Through a combination of transfiguration and potion knowledge, we fire a torrential mix of chloroform and pure alcohol into Fluffy's nose area. So it's less 'wind of sleeping' and more 'nighty night, fucker'.
I'm honestly not quite sure about the moral and ethical ramifications of drugging the hell out of Fluffy the Cerberus, but I'm fairly certain the punishments associated are far less than, say, if I shot his head off with a Prismatic Beam. It's also less tiring.
"What. Was. That." Hermione demands as Fluffy conks out (and hits the ground with a bit of a thud).
I wave her off. "Later; I'm not sure how strong the dose is against that size, now move it."
We hop down into the trapdoor hole.
I'M SUDDENLY VERY GLAD I KNOW THERE'S SOMETHING AT THE BOTTOM OF THIIIIIS
Poof.
I've landed and my legs are not broken. Huh.
…I hope the others don't land on top of me.
They don't.
Proof that this place is a spatial distortion rather than a pure construct, I suppose.
"Lucky this plant thing is here." Ron notes, patting the vine.
"It's a Devil's Snare!" Neville shouts excitedly. Ah fuck.
"It's a what?" Harry repeats, alarmed.
Can we blame him?
"It's a plant that reacts to contact and strangles everything it touches." Neville says excitedly. "It's really cool!"
…I don't think he fully understands the situation.
The Devil's Snare begins to move.
"Whoa!" Harry tries to scramble away from the plant he's sitting on to no avail.
"Incendio." I mutter and shoot one of the vines with a small ball of fire. I need to keep my wand clear.
Neville, on the other hand, goes nuts. "Lumos Maxima!"
With the tossing of the Neville Flashbang, the vines retreat (screeching) and drop us onto the floor below it.
"Good thinking, Neville." I clap him on the back once we're on our feet again.
"They fear the sun and fire." Neville's grin is huge...then fades. "I hope I didn't hurt it." He glances up worriedly.
"It'll be fine…Sprout knows what she's doing." I reassure him. "Let's move on."
…
Room two!
The room of flying keys.
"It's all you, mate." Ron says to Harry when they figure out what's going on.
…
Hermione grills us on the ins and outs of the Wind of Sleep, and is appropriately shocked when she realizes that we just caused Fluffy to overdose, instead of, y'know, magically putting it to sleep.
…
Harry plucks the right key from the air after a few minutes of effort, and we move on.
The other keys didn't even try to kill us. It's great.
…
Room Three!
The giant chessboard.
…The chessboard covers the entire floor and is thus impossible to bypass via the magical art of walking around it.
We could just blast our way past and move on.
Eh…that'll make me useless for the final battle, which…is honestly far from a death sentence, depending on how the potion thing works, but is certainly less than desirable.
I pat Ron's shoulder. "Ron, you're the better player."
"Good of you to say so." Ron smirks slightly. "Watch me win this."
We played a few matches throughout the year. Ron is miles ahead.
…
Ron, impressively, managed to win the chess game without sacking any of us.
Me and Neville were rooks, Hermy was the Queen, Ron and Harry were knights.
He lost pretty much everything else though. I think it was a closer game than the one depicted in the books.
We know next to nothing about chess.
"Whew. That was hard." Ron grumbles as we pass through the threshold. "Took us a while, too."
"Look on the bright side. Whoever's after the stone will have to pass through here again." I…did I seriously just realize that? "We'll be ready when it comes."
…
Room Four!
Quirrell's troll…I had forgotten this was an obstacle.
It's…actually alive and well, wow. It's probably the same troll, too.
"Mine." I step up. "Yo!"
The Troll hears our voice, turns to see us, and roars savagely.
Oh look at our shiny new win button! "Yeah, yeah. Wind of Sleep, Nebula Hypnotica."
The Troll's head jerks back like he was just hit by a hammer made of drugs and collapses onto the floor, snoring loudly.
"That is wicked." Ron comments…then looks over to us. "Are you alright?"
I'm panting again. "A little tired, but good to go." I have counters planned for this problem, but man is it annoying.
We leave the Troll dreaming.
…
Room Five!
Snape's potion class.
While Hermione and Neville ponder the puzzle and tries to figure out which is the real potion, Ron and I go to examine the fire that blocks our way.
…ooh, this is actually pretty cool.
The fire is solid. Like…a statue of fire, I guess. A statue that moves.
I imagine it will be less solid when you drink the potion that lets you go through it.
Snape's pretty badass if he could freeze fire.
We punch the fire.
So we have learned that fire is hot
Fuck
Ow
Ron shakes his head. "You're a bloody idiot sometimes."
…
"I think I figured it out." Hermione says. "It's this bottle." She holds up the smallest one on the table. "There's only enough for one person, though."
"Got any more bright ideas?" Ron asks us…by which I mean me specifically.
I nod. "One. Harry, you take the potion, go through and do your thing…Ron, Hermione, and Neville will take cover in this room. Stay out of sight of the door after I borrow you."
"Shouldn't be hard." Ron looks around and sees a lot of rubble strewn about the room. "What's this about borrowing?"
I grin. "You'll see in a second…Harry, go first."
...
[3rd Person Camera]
…
Harry bids farewell to his friends (and one weirdo) and downs his potion. With its icy contents coursing through his veins, he crosses the threshold and follows the short hallway down to the final room.
He blinks in surprise upon seeing the Mirror of Erised in the middle of the room, with…
"So it was you all along." Harry breathes.
"You don't sound surprised." Quirrell smirks, turning around to face Harry. "Did that boy tell you I was responsible?"
"He…why are you doing this?" Harry asks.
"Why?" Quirrell laughs. "Because it is my DESTINY! I shall succeed in my task here…regardless of your interference or your friend's egomania."
Harry wasn't quite sure what's going on at this point.
"Pah. If it wasn't for him, I would've killed you during your Quidditch match and that would've been the end of it." Quirrell continues to seethe. "But that boy just had to have such impeccable timing."
"That was you?" Harry thinks back to the investigation done to the Nimbus and feels somewhat sorry for the company.
But Quirrell was already returning to his task. "The stone is obviously trapped within some enchantment." He mutters. "It's certainly trapped within the mirror. How do I get it out?"
Harry was trying to figure out the same thing, when suddenly
Use the boy.
Harry looked around for the source of the voice.
Quirrell had apparently heard it as well, as he suddenly strong-arms Harry to the front of the mirror. "Tell me, what do you see?"
Harry, despite himself, looks into the mirror…and sees the mirror version of himself place the stone into his pants pocket with a furtive wink.
Harry then felt his pocket bulge, and understood immediately that it was the stone in his pocket.
Were he a little older he would've been worried about oddly shaped boners.
"What do you see?!" Quirrell demands.
"I…I see myself winning the House Cup." Harry lies badly.
Quirrell didn't buy it, but before he could press further, there was the sound of an explosion sounding far off.
The two of them turn to the entrance of the room, and see…
"Yo. Did I miss anything?" Ash says lightly.
"How did you break past Severus's trap?" Quirrell asks despite himself.
"Funny thing about enchantments…they stop working if the base object is destroyed." Ash smirks. "Nothing a Void Ray can't fix."
Quirrell has also heard those two words thrown around enough to be sick of it. "Of course, of course." He says tiredly.
Potter has the stone!
Quirrell and Harry both flinch, but Ash didn't seem to hear it…though he could guess based on how the two stared at each other a moment later.
Harry, having basic self-preservation instincts trained by being around the powder keg that is Ash, scrambles away from Quirrell with all the agility of a caffeinated squirrel stuck on an icy treadmill.
That is to say, very quickly but not very efficiently.
Quirrell then seems to conduct a conversation with himself, muttering about not being strong enough, before turning away from the two boys…and begins to unwrap his turban.
"…wow, you weren't kidding." Harry mutters to Ash as a second face distends from the back of Quirrell's head.
"Harry…Potter…" The second face says with a vague hiss in its voice.
"Voldemort." Harry breathes.
Ash isn't too impressed. "Yo. What are you doing being Quirrell's wingman?"
Voldemort ignored him. "At last…we meet." He says to Harry. "Tell me…Harry…would you like to see your mother and father again?"
Harry freezes.
Ash sticks his wand free hand into a side pocket on his belt.
Voldemort didn't seem to notice. "With the power of the stone, we can revive the dead…make amends…"
Ash froze. He can swallow his pride and lie? Shit.
"You lie." Harry retorts coldly. "You're nothing but a liar!"
"Kill him!" Voldemort demands, and Quirrell turns to lunge at Harry. "Kill the other first!"
Quirrell pulls his wand in a smooth motion, before feeling his arm knocked away by something small and fast.
"Too slow, asshole." Ash smirks and tosses his Prismatic Core into the air, before creating two more small Prismatic Bits and a flurry of lenses. "Let's see you dodge this…Harry! Go!"
Harry, of course, doesn't go quickly, and stays to watch as Quirrell advances towards Ash despite not having his wand ready.
"Lumos Linea!" Ash roars. Discharging a jet of light from his wand.
The light strikes the Prismatic core, concentrates into a small pulse, and accelerates towards Quirrell.
Quirrell blocks the blast with his robes. "Weak! Know your place, child!" He raises his wand and feels his arm knocked away again. This time he hears the sound of something shattering, and realizes that Ash had one less of those floating crystals circling around him.
"My place is above you, Voldemort." Ash snaps, then softens. "Sorry, professor."
Quirrell stops for a second…long enough for Ash to create a second Prismatic Bit and send it behind him.
"Say cheese." Ash grins and puts on a pair of sunglasses from Fred and George. "Solem Maxima!"
A blast of light, far brighter and hotter than Harry has ever seen Ash use, reached for the Prismatic Core hovering before the boy, concentrated itself into a beam, and struck the first Prismatic Bit.
The beam then changed direction to blow past Quirrell and strike the second Bit, allowing the Beam to sit itself directly on the back of Quirrell's head.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears against Quirrell's agonized screaming, but could still feel the power of the light burning through his eyelids.
…
Thirty seconds later, the spell dissipates. Ash drops to his knees along with his Prismatic Core, which shatters on the stone floor.
"Impressive…most impressive." Voldemort hisses. "Your talent is most impressive."
"Shit, you're still standing?" Ash pants. "As expected of a Dark Lord…gah." He spits up blood.
"It takes more than a half-hearted spell from a mere child to kill me." Voldemort spits.
"Burned your wand, though." Ash tries to grin…with little success.
"Yes…you have." Quirrell, now close enough to reach the boy, kicks him in the stomach.
"No!" Harry roars and charges at Quirrell, who was not expecting to be blindsided, and tackles him.
Harry, unfortunately, was not the heaviest of children, and thus the charge was only less than effective, allowing Quirrell to grab onto him instead.
"Fool." Quirrell sneers…then quickly releases Harry as if burned, and everyone in attendance watches in amazement as Quirrell's hand turns to stone and falls off.
"What is this magic?!" Quirrell demands/screams/cries.
"Just get me the stone!" Voldemort commands.
Quirrell, despite missing a hand, lunges for Harry again.
Harry, in response, invades Quirrell's personal comfort bubble and puts his little hands on Quirrell's face.
With a pained scream, Quirrell's entire body succumbs to whatever magic Harry had, and leaves behind just its robes crumpled in a heap.
Harry spares the robes a glance before rushing to Ash. "Are you alright?" He asks worriedly.
"Dug too greedily and too deep." Ash replies, wiping off the blood on the corner of his mouth. "Nothing some rest can't handle…more importantly, keep your eyes on the robes."
Harry does so, and notices something like smoke rising from the robes…before coagulating into something resembling a person's face. That something then rushes towards him.
Fortunately, having to put up with Ash's bullshit™ for a year has given Harry the good instincts to dive out of the way.
Ash himself got out of the line of fire as soon as he realized he was behind Harry.
"What…was that?" Harry asks as the Ghost thing escapes the room. "Voldemort?"
"Ghostdemort now." Ash coughs. "I might need a little help getting out of here, Harry."
"Right. Ok." Harry goes over and helps him up. "You were right about Quirrell." He adds.
"Yeah…kinda hoped I wasn't." Ash sighs. "Can't help but feel sorry for the guy, y'know? He was just a puppet."
…
The two return to the potion room, where they meet up with the other three kids (who all saw the ghost thing speed past them), and proceed to backtrack out of here.
Then they realize that the troll was now awake and barring their way back.
Ghostdemort, lacking a physical body, had no such issue.
"I guess we're waiting for a rescue." Hermione sighs. "That was You-Know-Who, wasn't it? That thing back there?"
Harry just nods.
"Gave me the creeps just looking at it. It wasn't human…was it?" Neville's voice was shaking.
"It used to be, I think." Ash answers tiredly. "It's dead as doornails now…or something."
"It moved, so it wasn't really dead." Ron points out rightly.
"True that…" Ash yawns. "…ok, I'm dead tired and I'm gonna sleep."
"Right here?" Neville looks around in slight disgust.
"That's not a bad idea, actually." Harry agrees, yawning along with him. "It's not like the Troll's going anywhere."
"Are you two serious?" Ron demands.
Harry's had a life of hardship, and thus doesn't really mind.
Ash is just too tired to care.
…
[1st Person Camera]
…
I'm awake!
Where am I?
Mysterious Old Man who is probably Dumbledore sitting by the bed I am occupying, hello!
"You are in the hospital wing, young Ash, rest assured." Dumbledore…er, reassures me.
Mouth working? Mouth working. Ok. "How long have I been out?"
"Two days, young Ash." Dumbledore replies. "I must admit, I was surprised to find you and your friends asleep in the Forbidden dungeon!"
"Yeah…exhaustion is quite a pain, headmaster." I stretch. "What happened afterwards?"
"Well, for starters, I imagine you will be quite pleased to hear of the removal of the mirror of Erised." Dumbledore said. "Your friends are also safe and sound, and have returned to their classes normally." He then bows his head. "I must apologize for being unable to assist you for the…incident."
He then winks at me and continues on a much more furtive tone. "And I offer you my thanks for watching over the kids."
…He knows, then? Still, no point laying my hand on the table. "I'm not that much older than they are, Headmaster."
He chuckles. "If it assuages your fears, I have cast a charm over us. We will not be overheard, I can assure you…and, if it gains you trust…I am certainly aware that you are twice their age…and a little more."
Well, shit, I guess.
"Since that's the case, then please forgive me for not wanting my mind read." I say…we're not looking at him in the eyes.
"A reasonable caution." Dumbledore sounds like he's laughing.
"When did you realize?" I can't help but ask.
"When you first sat upon the sorting hat and could not resist rolling your eyes."
God dammit, seriously?
We grin and shake our head.
"So much for coasting on assumptions…well then, headmaster, where do you plan to go from here?"
Dumbledore folds his hands. "I was hoping to hear something similar from you, young Ash…I assume you have already made a quite extensive plan for defeating the Dark Lord."
"Tommy? Yeah, kinda."
He sounds like he's laughing again. "And is the first part of your plan…"
"To use increasingly innocuous nicknames to discredit his royal darkness? Yep." I smile evilly. "At least, as long as it doesn't damage his pride."
"Really? Do tell." He sounds genuinely curious.
Hmm…balancing act between 'End Early' and 'End Safely' here…
"Voldemort strikes me as the type of wizard who places his pride far above any real tactical or strategic consideration, unless he has no other options." The guy isn't stupid. Pretending otherwise will get us killed. "So as long as I can keep him from recognizing the threat I can pose to him, I can keep him from recognizing the danger a 250 pound bomb will pose to his head."
"Muggle weapons are not known to be effective on wizards, my boy." Dumbledore gently warns us.
I grin. "Yeah? I'd like to see him deceive the targeting radar of a cruise missile…no offense meant, Headmaster, but I feel like the Wizarding Community is severely underestimating the ingenuity of the muggle way of war."
I'm curious about what exactly can Voldemort do against a Harrier, besides just offing its pilot. Best case scenario I get my hands on something like an A-10, but international laws would be a factor. Or an Apache. Probably an Apache would be better.
Does the 'hide thing from existence' spell work on mobile targets? Can I hide an Apache from plain sight if I was the only one who knew where it was?
Point is, The incredible strength of Tom Marvolo Riddle is probably not going to survive the sudden and immediate impact of an AGM. Unless he does in which case we're all boned. Anyways.
…"More importantly, does the…what's the thing." I snap my fingers. "The spell used to safekeep the Potter household. Does that spell just hide a structure from vision, or does it get removed from the world entirely?"
"I'm not quite sure I understand." Dumbledore blinks slowly.
"Well…say…if I were to set the town that Lily and James lived in alight, would their house remain standing after everything around them burns to the ground, or will it be the only structure still standing, but invisible?"
"The Fidelius charm renders the target invisible, intangible, unplottable and soundproof…I imagine the house would stand until you become one of its secret-keepers." Dumbledore explains.
Hrm. That puts a…not unexpected, damper on things.
In other words, we can't just bomb the Malfoy Manor sometime in the seventh book and be done with it.
"And what would happen if I were to learn of a location independent of a secret-keeper?"
"I do not know. Such an event has never happened before." Dumbledore good-naturedly shrugs. "Time-travelers are a rare commodity, even to this old man."
I guess I should test it at some point?
…
I don't think I can install any items on top of a hidden landscape, since it will just get 'pushed' aside…
…
What if we strapped IEDs to the Death Eaters when they went inside those hidden positions? Would that work?
...
Well, depending on how things go, it'll be in our best interest to learn of the position of Malfoy Manor now, so we can nuke it from orbit later. Sorry Draco.
Does the targeting chips within a guided penetration bomb need to know where the Malfoy Manor is? Can it even know to begin with?
"One last thing." I realize I'm being awfully demanding of him.
"Of course." Dumbledore looks like this is the most fun he's had in years.
He's an odd man.
"How much influence can the ministry of magic extend on other countries?"
"I assume you mean ours?" Dumbledore asks. We nod. "Only as much as other ministries allow them."
"Are the spheres of influence similar to the Muggle geopolitical borders? Are there treaties between ministries?" This is kind of important.
"Not that I'm aware of…Wizarding groups tend to shy away from each other until necessary, I'm afraid." Dumbledore says. "It's an unfortunate habit formed by our need for secrecy."
Huh. "And is it possible to get a waiver for casting magic outside of school? Or is it tied to my real age?"
"It is tied to your real age, young Ash, so have no fear." Dumbledore has the barest hint of a laugh.
Ok, good. Operation 'USA! USA!' is a go. Now I just need to convince some airline agency that a child with a plane ticket is unusual, but far from dangerous.
These are the pre 9-11 days, we should be fine.
"I assume you intend to travel overseas for the summer?" Dumbledore inquires.
I nod. "Yep…it'll be easier to do research there. I'll be back for the next term, though."
…
…
In the end, Dumbledore was incredibly helpful (even producing a fake plane ticket for us) and didn't pry for information.
Is this because he already knew what Voldemort's weaknesses were, or was it because he tapped our head despite our best efforts to prevent it?
Hopefully the latter, if anything happened at all.
According to him, everybody else was fine; they got some weird questions as they had shown up the next day dirty and (in Harry's case) a bit bloody.
My hospitalization for 'exhaustion' is so commonplace nobody gave a shit. On the plus side, my stay wasn't nearly as extended as it usually is despite how much damage I took, so, progress.
Largely due to Pomfrey making a drink specifically for recovering from magical exhaustion just to get us out of her hospital faster.
Good deals all around.
…
[End of the Year]
…
Slytherin still has their faux!Victory (there was a Quidditch match that Harry needed to play in against Ravenclaw. He was somewhat injured and a bit tired at the time so didn't perform to expectations).
Dumbledore gave the trio plus Neville 160 points in total. At some point, Quirrell's disappearance was noted, and since someone (Ron) let it be known that I was involved, there was an immediate reaction called "Oh shit the American killed Quirrell!"
Which…uh…was actually pretty accurate, leading to the Headmaster himself needing to quell the rumors by stating that Quirrell had gone into the Forbidden Corridor to 'reassess its defenses', and we, being the good little Teacher's Pet, went after him out of curiosity.
The Trio plus Neville, being good, responsible Gryffindors, followed after me to keep my daredevil ass safe.
It's a cover story that fits quite well with the persona I've cultivated, so props to him. He then gave us five points for masterful spellcrafting, which put Gryffindor in the lead so yay and happiness and all that.
…
And then everyone went home.
The end.
Not gonna tell them about that?
…
Oh yeah. that.
…
[That]
Which happened while we were about to board the train to leave Hogwarts.
…
"Fred, George."
The twins turn to see me. "Well, if it isn't the wunderkid." Fred grins. "What can we help you with today, young apprentice?"
He did indeed pronounce it like that.
I hold out a letter attached to a note. "Hold on to this."
"Uh…ok?" George takes it suspiciously. "It's not hexed, is it?"
Shake head. "Nah. Over the summer Ron's going to do something stupid and insane."
Fred blinks. "That's a surprise."
I nod. "Yeah. Read the note then and follow the instructions…it'll make your lives easier in the long run."
"Why can't I just open it now?" George says with the tone of someone who had just received a gift.
I grin. "Because it wouldn't be fun that way."
…
On one hand, I want Harry to have a good relationship with the Weasleys, and for them to (like the story proper) act as his surrogate family.
On the other, I want Harry to have an easier time at the Dursleys, without needing Harry to just move out.
So this is my compromise.
…Here's to hoping it works.
.
.
.
{ === + === }
Author Notes:
Fastest, most egocentric way of covering Book One ever?
I think so.
.
.
.
[Bonus: Sorting Hat]
Well now, aren't you the surprising one. First time I've met someone as old as you sitting here.
Comes with the territory of being special. How does sorting work, anyways? I find it hard to believe that each person has exactly one defining characteristic.
They don't. I look for what a person values the most.
Huh.
Slytherins look out for themselves, Ravenclaw are all about knowledge, Hufflepuffs help each other, and Gryffindors are, to use a term you are familiar with, Leeroys.
WoW doesn't come out in a decade.
I'm using your brain.
Huh. Ok.
Why does everyone choose to go into Gryffindor, anyways? To have only bravery and courage as your defining characters are hardly ideal.
Uh…
All they can do is solve problems badly, I hardly see the draw, but noooo…
Yeah…so if you could just sort me into Gryffindor, that would be great.
Pah, you too?
Dude, you have no idea how hard it will be to make a narrative around people I don't know and an environment I've never seen.
You know you'd make a great Slytherin…or a Ravenclaw. Why not just be out and out evil or boringly bookish and be done with it?
That doesn't sound like you respecting their defining characteristics.
Meh. I'll live with the guilt.
…this hat is weird. Out and out evil is boring, and I'm not hammy enough to do 'over the top' justice.
You're physically ten, just give it a few years.
Plus, my color palette doesn't fit darkness too well. I'm more of a white-and-cyan person.
That makes you a Ravenclaw, my boy.
Let's just pretend that heroism and bravery is my only asset.
Pah. No spine, any of you.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein