Magic Knows No Boundaries But Those We Believe In (Harry Potter)

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 31:

Ranker Speculations​

---

Voldemort picked himself off the ground with a groan. The dry autumn leaves crunched almost as loudly as his joints.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this old, and boy did he feel old. Seventy years on this earth, and only now did he feel every single one of them. He hadn't felt them last year. He hadn't felt them last month. He hadn't even felt them yesterday. But he felt them now.

More importantly, he remembered them.

"Damnit Fenrir." He cursed the corpse beside him. "And I thought you were the neglected one. How did none of you see that I wasn't okay either?"

The corpse of his friend did not answer, but Tom didn't need him to.

Yesterday he hadn't remembered that time he, Avery and Fenrir had snuck out on Thestrals to visit Calvary's grave, only to pass out on firewhiskey. Horcuxes weren't supposed to take memories with them into their new vessels, but he should have known better. He knew how entwined the soul was to the body and the mind. How one's soul is a reflection of one's thoughts and one's feelings.

A man is the sum total of his thoughts. You are what you think about. Or you are the sum total of your actions, you are what you do. Both philosophies are true, especially in regard to magic, and yet everyone seemed to have forgotten that with age. The horcruxes had not taken his memories. Just prevented him from thinking on them. Broken connections of memories. Since he had not been able to dwell on them, he had not been whole.

He still wasn't whole. He still had three more to incorporate back into himself.

That the time traveler was allowing him to do so instead of hunting them down and destroying them worried him immensely. How could he possibly know what they were if he had reabsorbed them in his timeline as well? Unless he hadn't? Had the boy hunted them down and destroyed them originally, and somehow manipulated events so that he would reabsorb them in this timeline?

Why would anybody do that? If destroying Voldemort was his goal, then with knowledge of their locations and protections he could have easily destroyed them all by now. It would have been a much more direct and effective path than... this.

The only motivation for doing so was if Hadrian wanted to save him. And that made no sense outside of Dumbledore's theory that the boy was his son. Maybe an apprentice? A successor? It would explain how powerful the young man was, and his knowledge of things he ought not to know of. It would also open the possibility of him having reabsorbed his horcruxes in the future, and Hadrian was simply speeding the process along... somehow.

The only other possible reason for trying to save him was if a much greater threat lay in the future that would require a true Dark Lord to help fight off. There was a very short list of such threats he could think of. Chiefly among them was a full-blown demonic incursion straight from hell or a world war between Muggles and Wizards. And if either of those were the case, he definitely needed to get his affairs in order. And fast.

He also really needed to schedule another meeting on neutral ground with Albus. His suspicions, chiefly that Hadrian was his apprentice from the future and he was here to prepare them for an apocalyptic scenario, was one he had to share with the dying man so he could also set things into motion.

Still, with all of these conclusions in his mind he couldn't help feeling rage and envy towards the young man. In a few short months of arriving in the past he had already accomplished all of Voldemort's failed dreams. He had the love of his life hanging off of his arm and a vaunted position as teacher at Hogwarts. The two goals he was never close to achieving. It was almost as if his apprentice was showing him up.

He stood up fully, groaning like a pitiful retirement home patient all the while, before surveying the carnage he had wrought the night before.

The hundred or so corpses around him testified just as loudly to his failures as a leader as the one at his feet. His was the only name he knew, the rest were nobodies, but shouldn't have been. He had been telling the truth to Hadrian when he said that seeing him work the way he worked and succeed as he had made Voldemort rethink his tactics. Terror, economic warfare and assassination had achieved little, and only after decades. Whereas Hadrian had achieved so much in only months. And here he was with the cost of his incremental gains.

Sunken cost fallacy would have him double down on his tactics, but instead he had opted for a rather violent form of 'corporate restructuring', as Narcissa had called it. Between her punching him for sending assassins after a rival and opting to cut off a dead branch of his order, he was wondering if she had forgotten that he was "the motherfucking dark lord", despite him reminding her - in those exact terms - that he was, indeed, the motherfucking dark lord.

There was still violence to be done, but the restructuring would have to take priority for now.

"Wait." He said to himself as his senses caught up to his waking state.

He sniffed at the air, and upon tasting no hint of rotting flesh or vacated bowels, he knew something was wrong. He withdrew his wand and cast a simple spell identification charm on the nearest corpse, aside from Fenrir, and balked at the result. Somebody, or multiple persons, had come through while he was unconscious and vanished the vacated matter from the corpses in the clearing, only to follow it up with air freshening charms and cooling charms on the corpses.

He could only laugh at the implications.

Had Crabbe, Goyle, Lucius and Amycus really come back to check up on him and make him comfortable in his unconsciousness? Of course they had. Disobedient little shits though they might be, they were loyal servants. Good servants.

Good friends. All of them. Better than he deserved. A lot better than he deserved.

He collected himself and caught his breath from the laughter. His usual worries about being seen in such a state of weakness not even an afterthought to his new frame of mind. He had much more pressing issues. Such as, what to do with all of these bodies?

He could leave them here to be found by the German authorities, but that would leave said authorities and the press to release pure conjecture about the events that transpired here. With the international coverage of Morrigan's sanctuary they would likely conclude he was making a poignant statement in opposition to his charity and the goals thereof. This, he did not want. Alternatively, he could immolate or bury the corpses for none to find, but that would lead to much more histrionic conjecture and fearmongering, the terrified worries about where Fenrir's clan was holding out and amassing strength for a horrific attack. This, he also did not want.

What should he do? He knew what he would have done just days or weeks earlier, but those tactics were a thing of the past. He was now trying to see things from a new perspective, he was now trying to emulate Morrigan's modus operandi. The master learning from the apprentice what he would inevitably teach him in time.

What should he do? A simple question whose answer was another simple question. What was the right thing to do?

He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

---

Harry nodded in satisfaction as the alarm went off, indicating that he was done watching Draco and Sean paint his classroom.

"Alright, I think my walls are sufficiently decorated." Harry said, stopping the two boys.

They groaned in relief as they lowered their arms and the thick brushes they had been painting his walls with. They were bamboo calligraphy brushes, and with them these two boys had covered his entire room with the words "I shall not fight in class." It now looked like the walls of a mental asylum patient. He was very tempted to get red ink and add "Connect the cuts!" in big, bold letters just to screw with people, but that was a bit too far even for him. And most of these uncultured children wouldn't get the reference anyways.

"Now. What does my wall say?" Harry asked the two boys.

Draco scowled and glared at the words on the wall.

"I shall not fight in class." Sean answered in a deadpan.

"Good, mister Finnegan." Harry said condescendingly. "So long as you and Draco keep this message in mind, you ought to avoid detention with me in the future."

Draco stared hard at the words.

"The phrasing seems to insinuate that you don't care if we fight outside of your classroom." The Slytherin said.

"I don't." Harry said flippantly. "Not only can I not stop you from doing so, it also is not my problem. It's Pomfrey and Grey's problem. Did I just give you permission to fight in the halls?!"

The two boys shook their heads no at his demand.

"No. No, I did not. And if I catch you doing so, it'll be a much more severe detention." He warned. "Now run along."

They left through the staircase as opposed to the ladder and Harry returned to the seat at his desk with a sigh. Another week of teaching these upstarts down, a few dozen more to go. But Friday was finally here and in a few short hours he would be having tea with some old ladies and relaxing.

"Professor?" A tiny voice called from the stairway.

Harry swiveled in his chair to see none other than Xeonophilius Lovegood, junior, standing in his doorway. He was cutting it a little close, waiting until the last minute possible to come to him before he closed shop for the weekend, as all students knew he would.

"Come in, mister Lovegood." Harry beckoned.

The miniscule Ravenclaw approached his desk and daintily placed onto it a simple potions vial. A sampler one, like a blood-draw tube, not a large one you could quaff down. Inside was a familiar swirling mass of silvery mist.

"A dream?" Harry asked.

Xenophilius nodded.

"Excellent! That would make you the first to share one with me. Let's give it a looksie." Harry said as kindly as possible.

Hoping it wouldn't be a particularly long dream as he did have an appointment to keep.

He reached under his desk and withdrew the lidded pensieve before placing it on the table. Snatching up the vial with one hand and lifting the lid of the pensieve with the other, he uncorked it and began pouring the memory into the stone bowl.

"You need only touch the liquid's surface." Harry instructed.

The boy obliged and Harry followed him into the pensieve without hesitation. The world around them reformed from liquid inks in the abyss of the pensieve and Harry found himself in a very yellow place.
It was a desert. One filled with rolling hills and short mountains as far as the eye could see, each pockmarked with tufts of green grass and trees juxtaposed to the yellowed sands and brown rocks. It was a very lovely, if somewhat windy, place. And for the life of him Harry had no idea where it was, nor who the people around them were.

"Whoa." He said in surprise at the multitude of naked Veela.

They did not look as modern Veela do, but that is what these creatures were. The scaled feet with razor sharp talons jutting from every toe, and hands to match, are not features modern Veela sported, but were elegant on these ones all the same. Nor did modern Veela have downward facing wings on their backs like a drooping angel, but these ones did. And the largest, eldest of them, flanked on both sides by her screech owls and pet lions was one with completely braided hair put up into a conch shell formation. She was enormous, easily mistaken for a full-blooded giant, towering over all of her daughters.

She looked EXACTLY like her statues. As did the man kneeling before her.

"I wasn't sure about sharing it." Xenophilius said. "It seemed... inappropriate."

"It is not." Harry told the boy. "These were days when the body was not covered out of shame. Now let me listen."

The kneeling man spoke, but his words were unknown to Harry. Not only was the language he spoke completely lost to time, but the normal muffling and incoherence of language dream speak was famous for made it even less intelligible. As he spoke Ishtar plucked from the ground one of her maned lions. They were all male and maned, but of a breed unlike any lion Harry had seen before, likely long-since extinct like the European lions. She cradled it in her arms like a kitten- yes, she was that big - and patted it while seemingly in deep thought at the man's words.

Her daughters, all taller than the man but not ridiculously so, watched the man and whispered between themselves between the occasional fit of giggles. They were a diverse group of daughters, with as many different hair and eye colors as the literal wagonful of bouquets and textiles the man had presented as offering. As far as Harry could tell none of them shared a father. Ishtar had been a bit of a man-eater, and proudly so. Those were different times, prior to Hera inventing marriage in its modern form to tame men and women alike.

The man finished pleading his case to the mother Veela and she stared at him in silence, raking her claws through the lions mane as she did so.

She eventually spoke. As before the words meant nothing to Harry, but they must have meant a great deal to the kneeling man by the downcast look of defeat he adopted as she spoke them. Eventually she gave a dramatic pause and said a word that - even across the millennia of language barriers - Harry understood to mean "however" followed by a substitutional offer. One that made the bearded man blanch in a mix of terror and awe.

When he spoke this time Harry understood him.

"Nehushtan. Mother says to come with me. Come, let us crush my enemies and make me king of all things as I was meant to be." He said commandingly in seemingly perfect English.

The mountain of copper behind her rose like a twisting column of metal treads. It coiled in on itself to reveal the glistening copper scales and golden plumage of a great feathered serpent glittering in the sunlight like a death ray. The much greater reflections when it spread its two wings and raised its head blinded Harry with the refleced light of the sun and a moment later, he felt the familiar tug of a memory ending and he found himself returned to his classroom.

"Wow." Said Harry. "I know a lot of history and archeology nerds who are going to LOVE this!"

"So... You know who and what those were?" Xenophilius asked. "The giantess, the harem, the man and the snake?"

Harry smiled at the boy.

"Mister Lovegood, the man you saw in that dream was none other than Sargon of Akkad. The giantess he met with was the "goddess" Ishtar, and that was no harem, but the totality of her Veela daughters. The serpent was unknown to me though." He explained honestly.

"Sargon of what now?" Xenophilius asked. "Wait Veela?! Those didn't look like Veela!"

Harry looked at the boy, genuinely surprised he didn't know this history.

"Sargon of Akkad was a great king in ancient Mesopotamia, a great and powerful wizard of ancient times." Harry explained. "And Veela did not always look as they do now, and in fact had many varieties in those days. Just as there are fishlike mermaids, dolphin-like mermaids, sharklike mermaids, jellyfishlike mermaids and squidlike mermaids."

He paused while the boy withdrew parchment and quill to take notes. Harry knew what the boy was going to be researching in the library that weekend.

"One breed of Veela was known as the Liliths, or screeching owls, and looked like that. There used to be as many different types of Veela as there are people. Valkyries, liliths, sirens and more. Most were wiped out. The Veela you know today were, ehem, "selectively bred" from the different types that were enslaved. Sirens could only infatuate by singing while transformed, but the Greek Olympians - wizards and witches, by the way - took them and mixed them over generations into the nymphs of mythology, and they've remained like that ever since."

The boy made a disgusted face.

"That's terrible." Xenophilius said.

"Indeed." Harry said simply.

"So, this Sargon guy was friends with the Veela?" He asked.

Harry could only stare at the boy.

"You've not been told the epic of Sargon of Akkad? The king who united Mesopotamia? Raised by Veela, the lilithic daughters of Ishtar, after they rescued him from his mother after she tried to "set him adrift in a on a river."? What are they teaching you in history of magic?" He asked aghast. "He wasn't friends of the Veela, he was the son and brother to Veela."

The kid didn't even shrug, but just got more inquisitive.

"He was set adrift down the river?" He asked. "Like Moses?"

Harry cringed at the innocence at which the boy asked the horrific question. He needed to measure his next words carefully or risk getting very angry letters from Xeno senior and his drop-dead gorgeous wife that he still wasn't crushing on. Or worse, risk turning Xeno junior to a future Voldemort follower.

"Yes, like Moses, but sending babies adrift on the river is a euphemism. " Harry explained. "It's what people said when a woman drowned her baby in the river and set it down in a basket like a floating casket."

The look of horror on the boy's face was exactly what he expected. A wizard child, hell, the average wizard adult has never even imagined a person capable of killing a baby, let alone their own baby. With the obvious exceptions of the freaks that were Arthur and Molly Weasley, children were a rarity for witches and wizards. As a result, they were rightly cherished. In fact, the major reason most witches joined Voldemort's cause was because they learned of recent events in the Muggle world in regard to the sexual degradation of Muggle women followed soon after by rampant divorce and abortion. Any one of these was enough to disgust a witch to the point of genocidal rage, but all three?Yeah, it's a miracle most Death Eater's weren't women considering most of his supporters were.

Witches do not like the idea of people from a culture of baby killing, marriage ending, vow-breaking sexual deviants migrating into and changing their culture. And that's how Molly had put it to Hermione, Andromeda had much more colorful language. It was such a rampant view of witches towards Muggleborns that even Molly Weasley was so easily convinced by Rita Skeeter's rag that Hermione would behave so reprehensibly back in his fourth year.

There was not a chance in hell Harry was going to tell little Xenophilias any of this.

"But in the case of Moses, he was saved from his mother by a witch in Ramses' court and raised as an Egyptian wizard. Sargon? Raised by Veela, came back and conquered. Assuming this dream actually is post cognitive, which I have every reason to believe it is, you have brought me our first dream vision. One that every magiantrhopologist will want to see."

The boy brightened up at the praise.

"With your permission, I would like to bottle this up and take it to the ministry for the Unspeakables to verify. If you would kindly write a quick letter of introduction for yourself with the details of the dream, such as the date and time you had it, I can take it there this evening." Harry offered. "Make sure to sign it so they can make sure you get proper credit."

The boy did exactly as Harry suggested while he rebottled the memory. A piece of twine later and the vial was wrapped in the letter of introduction, and they were both on their way.

---

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[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 5:

Dueling Preliminaries
​

---

Harry stared at the eagle owl perched on his windowsill. He knew this eagle owl, and for the life of him he couldn't fathom a reason why Draco Malfoy would be writing him directly. He must have spent an entire minute glaring at it suspiciously while it glared back.

Wanting to get on with his day, Harry relented and approached the bird. Noting sourly that Hedwig seemed completely nonplussed by the foreign owl, something his Hedwig would not be okay with, he took the letter and balked at the name on the envelope.

"Oh. That explains why you're here Swash." Harry said to Draco's owl.

Somehow he'd completely forgotten that Bellatrix was Draco's aunt. With her sane in this world, surely they were closer as well. Close enough for him to lend her his owl, at least. He deduced from this that she either lived with the Malfoys or visited them semi-regularly. He filed that information away for later as Swash flew away.

"Well, now the sum total of my packing includes you two and a letter." Harry said to Hedwig and Crookshanks. "Man, I sure do love not having a lot of crap to pack."

With the sun freshly risen his time at the leaky cauldron was at an end. Garrick had already agreed to let him move into his apprentice room above the store and it was a godsend in terms of saving money. Living somewhere rent free is always a great boon.

Pocketing the unopened letter, he picked up Hedwig and left his hotel room for the last time.
Crookshanks followed in his wake as he passed through the Leaky Cauldron and meandered down Diagon Alley. Using the signet ring Garrick had given him to open the front door he entered the shop and made a beeline upstairs to the apprentice bedroom as quietly as he could.

The room was as spartan as he remembered, but the lack of a second bed was decidedly odd to him. In his time studying there back in 2000 the only reason Garrick had two beds in there was because Luna and him had to share the room. Of course, the spare bed went completely unused with Luna preferring to share his during their three months together. What a wonderful three months it had been. The longest relationship he'd ever had up until that point. Then he had to go and ruin it by calling it a relationship.

Where are we going? What do we call what we have? These were the questions he had asked Luna. She had answered them by laughing in his face.

Feeling sufficiently heartbroken and used he had quit his failed apprenticeship with Ollivander. Mostly because he just didn't have Luna's knack for wand lore and it showed in his lack of progress, but also because they had hit a roadblock in their research into the Eldar wand and twin phoenix core wands. Plus, he needed to get away from the woman who had turned him into a fuck boy only to then deny him the relationship he wanted.

It had taken a lot of time and a lot of flings to get over the heartbreak from that one. By the time Hermione intervened by telling him to stop being such a man whore he was already over it and was dating Daphne exclusively, which led to a whole host of new concerns by his best friend. In time Daphne would prove all of those concerns wrong, even if they didn't stay together either.

It had been a rather terse conversation. He never thought he'd hear the sentence "You can't get rid of heartache by drowning it with booze or burying it in every vagina in the nation." come out of Hermione Granger's mouth, and yet he had. And he would wind up repeating them to her whenever she got on his case after that. It was a instant classic in terms of Granger wisdom.

With Hedwig and Crookshanks comfortably situated in his new room, Harry finally went downstairs to begin the day. Standing behind the counter and watching the alley fill with morning light had been a great start to his days back when he worked here in his time. Nobody came in this early, but an early, relaxing start to the day was the best start to a day.

"Welp, let's see what Crazy Mccrazyface wants." Harry said to himself as he withdrew the letter from his breast pocket.

He ripped it open and out fell two Quidditch tickets and a letter. Disregarding the tickets he opened the letter to give it a read.

To Garrick Ollivander's Apprentice.

We did not exchange names during my visit to your shop, and that was mostly due to my rudeness. Allow me to remedy this mistake by finally introducing myself. My name is Bellatrix Black, and it was a pleasure meeting you.

I am writing this letter to you with an apology gift to show my sincerest gratitude. You showed incredible patience in both tolerating my sunny disposition and in situating me with a new wand so quickly. I hope to meet you again soon. Should you accept and use this gift I believe I shall.
I am still hoping you will arrange a time and day to help me repair my first wand.

Yours sincerely,

Bellatrix Black

PS: I asked my niece what a dominatrix was. I usually do not appreciate such crude humor, but I must admit the mental image of somebody chaining their disobedient wand to a bedpost and whipping it with a leather cat of nine tails is rather humorous indeed.
​

Niece? Was Draco Malfoy born female in this universe? That was a frightening thought. Unless of course Ballatrix was referring to Nymphadora, who seemed more likely to know what a dominatrix was. But the fact that the letter was sent with Draco's Eagle owl instead of the Tonks family owl suggested the former. The idea of Bellatrix being on good terms with both the Malfoys and the Tonks seemed unlikely. Then again he had no idea of Andromeda even married Ted and produced that wonderful metamorph and mother to his godson.

Now he was thinking of little Teddy again. Why was the slightest thought of his godson the thing that always brought down his mood?

"I never took you for a dueling buff." Ollivander said offhandedly as he walked past to unlock the front door. "Figured you were more into Quidditch. When did you have the time to get tickets for the preliminaries?"

Harry looked back down at the tickets and, sure enough, the symbol for the dueling league was plastered onto both. It consisted of two wands crossed in combat over two swords crossed in combat.

"You had me pegged correctly. Never been to watch a dueling tournament before in my life." Harry admitted. "These tickets came with a thank you note."

"From whom?" Garrick asked, his curiosity now obviously piqued.

"A nice lady who came in yesterday with a blockage in her wand. I got her a new spare and promised to set up an appointment to help her try and clear it." Harry explained, feigning ignorance as to her name. "Letter is signed Bellatrix Black."

"Ooooh, she's won a few championships. One of the best duelists in the women's league here in sunny England." Garrick explained, walking over.

Harry had zero difficulty believing that Bellatrix was a dueling champion. It was the idea that she wasn't fighting and killing in the war that boggled his mind.

"When is the match?" Garrick asked.

Harry turned the tickets back around to read the details.

"Today." Harry said before looking at his watch and comparing it to the time listed on the tickets. "In thirty minutes."

Garrick grabbed his coat from the hanger beside the counter.

"Well let's head on out then." Garrick insisted. "Business is slow on Wednesdays anyways. Especially this early."

Harry shrugged and followed him out the front door, locking it behind him. With a wave of his wand he conjured a small sign on the over the window with his chicken scratch declaring they were away. Intricate conjurations like this were better done with wands, he could never get the texture and lettering right wandlessly.

Busy watching hot babes beat the piss out of each other. Come back later.​

Harry followed Garrick down the alley towards the nosy pair of judgmental Aurors. Apparating or flooing directly into or out of Diagon Alley was verboten, so they'd floo from the Leaky Cauldron.
"Where are we going?" Garrick asked as he reached for the pot of floo powder.

Harry checked the tickets again.

"Cork Quidditch stadium." Harry said.

"Ah. The Cork Warlocks are sponsoring the preliminaries this year, are they? Well I know who I'm cheering on this season." Garrick told him as he grabbed a fistful of floo.

"The Corkscrew." Ollivander called out only to vanish in a flash of green flames.

Harry recognized it as the name of the popular wizarding pub in Cork and followed suit. He landed on Irish soil seconds later, untangling himself from the heap on the ground he had become.

"Wow. Not a fan of floo travel are you?" Garrick said ss he helped Harry up.

"Not a fan of any kind of magical travel. Save broomstick." Harry admitted as he brushed himself off. "Long walk to the stadium?"

"Nope. Right up the street. Thirty minute walk tops." Garrick.

"Just side-along me." Harry insisted.

Garrick obliged and a few seconds later they were standing on the pier of an island halfway between Roches Point and Weaver's point. Roche's point lighthouse was on clear display and was almost in throwing distance. The only part of the island visible to Muggles was known as Harbour Rock on the north side. The rest of the island was a Quidditch pitch with no stands save the grassy hills surrounding it. All open air, picnic seating.

Harry had played here twice during his Quidditch career, both on sunny, breezy days. Thankfully the European Quidditch league played from late spring to early autumn, so they didn't have to deal with the frigid rain or snowstorms Cork Bay sometimes got. And apparently so did the British and Irish dueling leagues. Nobody liked dueling or flying with fifty kilometer per hour sleet and hail flying into their face.

"Well, let's go find our seats." Garrick said.

They walked up to the small gazebo that served as a gate. Which seemed rather pointless seeing as there were no fences or wards preventing people from just walking past them. Save the two conductors and wide-open view of the entire island that would have any freeloader spotted and promptly booted in half a second.

"Tickets please." The blonde conductor asked in a voice far deeper than his frail appearance would indicate.

Harry presented them to the conductors who promptly ripped both in half, handing the pair their stubs.
"Seats A5 and A6. Follow the white markings on the grass, should be just to the right of the entrance." The blonde man said boredly.

Harry and Garrick walked through the gazebo and onto the grassy field. The rings of the Quidditch pitch were far to the right and far to the left, with the "stands" surrounding it all the way to the lapping shore. Most of the free ground space was already taken up by people and their blankets. Many had even brought along picnic baskets. Harry was certain they were magically expanded to be larger on the inside than the outside and were probably full of food and booze.

"Here we are." Garrick announced when they reached a spot of grass with white lettering declaring them A5 and A6.

Harry conjured a thick, wool blanket over the two spots and got comfortable. The stands were sloped, like perfect hills surrounding the pitch so they could all see over each-other's heads towards the action. Harry had never seen a Quidditch pitch cordoned off into squares like this, although he supposed it wasn't that shocking of a change to be made to a Quidditch pitch compared to a magic hedge grove.

Each squared off section had folding chairs surrounding it and a judges desk where absolutely ancient witches and wizards sat talking. The regular folding chairs seated the many ladies intent on participating in the preliminaries here. Harry spotted the mess of curly black hair he attributed to Voldemort's right hand in the square directly in front of them. Clearly Bellatrix had picked these seats out specifically for them. That or she was entitled as a participant to invite two people to watch her and everybody else had blown her off. Harry could recognize a gift of last resort.

Their seats had them right behind two large men. They had the kind of body type of men who worked hard labor but didn't eat well or control their drink. The kind of muscular fat that made women swoon. Buff fat. They were buff fat.

"So, what exactly is the purpose of these preliminary matches?" Harry asked Garrick once they were both comfortable.

"Partly as tryout matches to judge who should be allowed into proper matches at all, but mostly for sportsmanship and strategy forming." Garrick explained. "These preliminary duels have none of the pressure or rewards of real duels, so the participants can have a more relaxed spar to better gague each-other to come up with training regiments and strategies for their real duels."

"Oh! So it's like a pre-season game? Has no bearing on later matchups or rankings, just good fun and warmup for the real deal?" Harry clarified.

"Exactimuno." Garrick said. "Also, keep an ear to the ground. Literally. The markings on the grass are speakers connected to our nearest dueling square, specifically the announcer."

No sooner did the words leave Garrick's mouth than did the announcer pipe up from the ground.
"Good morning loyalists and special guests of participants alike, In ring A today we have some fan favorites returning and some fresh blook vying for a chance to compete. On the docket today for contestants new to the scene includes recent Hogwarts graduate Alicia Spinnet..."

Harry blinked at the name and did a double take as the dark-skinned girl stood up from her folding chair in the pitch below. He hadn't recognized her, but he hadn't been looking for her either. She hadn't been a duelist in his world.

"Recent migrant from South Africa, Bathory Hendrix, no relation. Also trying her hand at dueling for the first time is Hogwarts professor and survivalist expert Elvira De Santiago." The announcer went on.

Harry sat up straighter to get a look at the women in question as they were announced. Each stood up to bow to each other and the judges as they were called.

Miss Hendrix was an even darker, and seemingly even younger woman than Alicia. She kept a clean shaven head and a bright orange scarf. Of course, he was more interested in this Hogwarts professor, whom he assumed was the latest person Ablus has suckered into the cursed Defense position. She looked nothing like the mistress of darkness. For one she was a golden-brown Hispanic woman instead of the pale white horror hostess. For another she was all muscle and lacked the cartoonishly overexaggerated cleavage that Cassandra Peterson boasted. Still, she was a handsome woman and was in no way ugly. Classic Tomboy look. Kind of reminded him of a dark skinned, more rugged Tonks. All this combined with her short, cropped hair and she looked like Elvira on opposite day.

Needless to say, Harry already liked her. Couldn't wait to see how she fought.

"For returning duelists we have two-time dueling champion Bellatrix Black. And while she may never have won a championship we also have head of the DMLE Amelia Bones."

Harry blinked again as the older redhead, whom he was thankful had not been assassinated in the last month as in his timeline, stood up and bowed. He guessed with her being the head of the DMLE she didn't see field work very often and had to keep her combat skills sharpened somehow. Dueling for sport seemed as good a way for her to do that as any.

It was the final of the six names in pit A that made harry blink the hardest.

"Finally, we have One-time champion Arianna Figg returning for her fifth season."

---

Notes:​

For those of you confused, this is the NEW chapter 5, and all of it is new to the story. I rewrote the entire story(well, some of it) on ffnet and lost a lot of fans for deleting chapters and adding them back. Fortunately, QQ has the ability to insert earlier chapters so I don't have to do that. A lot is being changes, added or removed. Mostly based on teh feedback of patrons. Then new chapter six will be here soon. Probably by the time you finish reading this sentence. Enjoy.

Things being added or taken away:​

- There will be much more time with Bellatrix and Harry dating. A LOT more time with these two. Starting with this chapter actually.

- More time with Dumbledore being confused. Specifically confused. Somehow his brilliant mind coming with ingenious, but incorrect, explanations for the enigma that is Hadrian Morrigan is a huge hit and I'm going to stuff the story full of it because pretty much all of my patrons demanded it. I don't bash Dumbledore, ever. But picking on him is funny.

- More time with Lily and the Marauders. And now the grandparents generation as well. Once I figure out which pair of names to use for Harry's grandparents. None of you reviewers seem to agree on that one. I also need to figure out which members of their generation are still alive. Walburga, Cygnus, Abraxas etc.

- I am removing and have removed the friendship with the goblin nation.

- I am removing the entire religious artifacts plotline.

- I am removing the flashbacks to Harry's world, even those with the department of Mysteries even though it is VERY important for later chapters. Except maybe the one with Draco and Dudley.

- I am keeping the Voldemort/Tom Riddle POV chapters. Was going to split them into a separate story, but they are just too good.

If ffnet simply had an "Insert new chapter between 4 and 5 and renumber the ones after that" my life would have been much easier.

---

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$25 per 500 words for original fiction/nonfiction or anything else that is not fanfiction. I am still looking for my first nonfiction gig so I can move into ghostwriting professionally, so if you have a novel you really want written contact me.

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[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 6:

Deuling Styles and Wand Malfunctions​

---

Harry blinked in surprise. He was doing a lot of that today.

"Any relation to Arianna Dumbledore and Arabella Figg?" Harry asked Garrick.

"Never heard of the former, daughter of the latter." Garrick answered boredly.

For a second there he thought he might have found the major branching point in this timeline, or at least one of them. And to the people here the significance of her surviving to old age would seem as inconsequential as anybody else doing so. Now he was feeling somewhat eager to actually research the history of this world and its people. Or at least the people he knew.

"Our first matchup will be Professor Santiago against Madame Bones." The announcer declared.

"Oh wow, they just get right into it huh?" Harry asked. "No warmup drills? No pleasantries?"

"Meh. They'll shake hands before they start slinging curses." Garrick told him with a shrug.

And indeed, as soon as the other participants sat back down Elvira and Amelia walked up to each-other and shook hands.

While they did this what looked like four security guards began setting up pillars of bone around the arena and conjuring a screen of glass to connect them. The bone was probably either from dragons or other magically resistant creature. Their body parts made for good ward "stones", anchors for magic sapping wards that would redirect any magic directly into the ground like the grounding wire of a house. It was taking them an oddly long time to conjure the glass around it though. Why would they have trouble with something so simple?
"It's diamond." Garrick whispered to Harry when his confusion showed on his face.

Oh! Enchanted dragon bone sapper wards with diamond shielding connecting them? Yeah, that would block pretty much any legal charm, jinx or curse. Certainly any tournament legal ones, whatever those were. Now that he knew it was diamond, he was suddenly impressed by the speed at which the four conjurers were working. Each managed to create five whole meters of the wall by themselves in about a minute. And that was probably their entire job.

Harry couldn't do that. Well, with a lot of practice he could get that good at it, but that would be an entire career path in and of itself.

When these security workers gave the all-clear Elvira and Amelia walked to opposite sides of their little arena and gave a customary bow before pointing their wands at one-another. They remained like that for a few moments as they waited for the judge to instruct them to begin.
"Begin." The judge's voice came up from the ground.

Elvira's wand danced in her hand as she conjured a fast-moving length of rope, followed by a rubber ball and a small spear of ice.

Madame bones had started to cast a regular shielding charm but abandoned it in favor of dodging the physical projectiles. She must have planned to gauge her opponent's casting power by the feel of her jinxes and curses against her shield, but such standard shields weren't any good against physical objects. Now she was flatfooted and casting the usual array of Auror charms.

Harry recognized it as the StExIn formation. The stunner spell, followed by a disarming charm followed by a binding curse. The wand movements of each flowed smoothly into the next and allowed the spell chain to be cast faster than most random spell combinations. It was a favorite "light" spell chain when you're trying not to hurt a suspect.

"Didn't take her for a heap user." A woman behind them murmured to explained unhelpfully.

"Heap user?" Harry asked Garrick much more quietly than the woman behind them.

"The technique Elvira is using was actually originally developed to counter unforgivables or other curses that can't be blocked by shield charms." Ollivander informed him. "But in dueling pits it's called the heap method. The conjured objects, if not vanished quickly, form a heap around the arena."

"Hm." Harry said. "Most people don't know this but one of the best spells for blocking a killing curse is Avis, and if you're feeling cheeky, Orchideos. A would-be murderer is always surprised to have their spell foiled by a flock of hummingbirds or a large bouquet of roses." Harry added.

The two blue-collared gentleman in front of them both turned around with raised eyebrows at Harry's commentary and he was shocked to realize how old they were. Surely they were in their sixties or older. He was even more shocked to recognize one as Crabbe senior. No, not Vincent's father, Vincent's grandfather. The two men turned around in whispered conversation before Harry could try for a conversation.

He turned back to watch the duel to see Amelia had switched to alternating from the usual stunner or otherwise incapacitating charms to vanishing charms to erase the projectiles.

"Wait a minute... Elvira has already won!" Harry exclaimed.

"Indeed. And I think Amelia knows it." Garrick hummed.

A heap of conjured objects in a dueling arena made prime material for transfigurations. One of the first things transfiguration students learned at the NEWT level was that conjured objects are about ten times easier to transfigure than "real" objects. It takes one tenth the time and one tenth the effort compared to "real" objects. But for the person who conjured it in the first place? It was one hundred times easier. Which meant that with every rubber ball, length of rope, metal chain or other conjuration Elvira hurled became potential fuel for a massive non-living to living transfiguration later.

She was clearly setting up a trap for the Auror who, experienced in fighting though she may be, it was clear that the dueling pit was as new to her as it was to Harry. He had the benefit of looking in from the outside and being able to see her mistakes, and he hadn't even noticed it before she had based on the change of tactics.

"Whoa." Harry said quietly when the pile of rubbish around Amelia's feet rose and formed a hulking, furry mass.

That was a polar bear. Polar bears are funking terrifying. So was Amelia now that she had revealed her propensity for using organ exploding curses on conjured animals. He was certain the organ expelling curse was tournament illegal, but maybe using it on conjured beasts was allowed? Regardless, that was whole lot of intestines snaking out of the very dead polar bear. Literally.

Had Amelia managed to cast an organ expelling curse on the bear and then transfigure said organs into a swarm of snaked in one swift motion? How did she even do that?!

His question was answered when a moment later the army of cobras, pythons, anacondas and black mambas wrapped around Amelia and turned her into a little sushi roll, unable to move. She hadn't done the transfiguration. Elvira had.

"Madame Bones is unable to continue the duel. Professor De Santiago is the victor!" The announcer's voice declared from beneath their blanket.

Harry clapped along with the rest of the viewers in section A as the duel came to a close. The smattering of cheers continued as Elvira canceled her transfigurations and conjurations, releasing Amelia. The warders took down the diamond barrier as the pair shook hands before returning to their seats stoically. Neither boasted, neither complained. It was all great sportsmanship.

When the next two participants walked up to take their places Harry sat up a bit straighter.

"The second duel of the day will be Bellatrix Black versus Arianne Figg." The announcer said.

The two ladies shook hands before walking to their opposite sides of the arena. As they did so the warders checked the dragon bone pillars and conjured a new barrier of diamond. When they gave the all-clear Bellatrix and Arianna bowed in the customary duelist manner and took up a battle-ready position.

"You may begin." The judge's voice came up from the ground.

The two were casting as soon as the final syllable left his lips.

Arianna, like Amelia, favored charms but instead of the usual Auror ensemble she went for a more elemental approach. The stream of white, liquid flames coming out of her wand was slow moving, but it filled the entire thin arena between her and Bellatrix, cutting off the latter's line of sight. Harry didn't even recognize the spell, but he did recognize Bellatrix's. A whip of equally white light erupted from her wand and cracked as she slashed it at the ground.

She twirled her wand and it danced like ribbon. Where it collided with the liquid white flames, said flames subsided, absorbed into the rope ofl ight.

"A capacitance whip? That's really advanced." Garrick commented boredly.

Really advanced didn't come close to describing the level of difficulty that the capacitance whip was. It was what's known as a flesh abstraction spell, which sounds a lot nastier than it was. Master level spells came in many varieties, one of the hardest was abstract component-based spells. A wand movement and incantation just didn't cut it for these, you also had to have one or both of two other things. Knowledge of a skill and the muscle memory of practicing said skill.

The watercolor photograph spell was the most quintessential of these. It allowed the caster to create a watercolor painting of whatever they were currently looking at, like taking a photo. In order to cast said spell you had to actually be a watercolor painter. You had to spend years learning color theory and all the rest that goes into being a painter, and also physically painting, training up the muscle memory and motor skills of putting brush to paper. Ironically, most people capable of casting said spell rarely did, because they'd rather just sit down for a couple hours and paint the lovely sunset they were appreciating. There were such spells for every art and craft, and each required lifelong dedication to said art or craft.

The single most powerful binding charm known to wizardkind was one such spell and required the user master the lasso. No, really. You had to practice wrangling bulls with a real-life lasso in order to cast it. It was one of the reasons farm-raised American Aurors were so good at their jobs. Half of the Macusa could cast it by the age of twelve. Really made his "patronus at thirteen" feat seem unimpressive in comparison.

The capacitance whip was significantly easier than any of these. It just required the muscle memory of training with a whip. In fact, Filius had taught Harry the spell by having him workout with battle ropes, which was one hell of a workout. He could cast it, but there was a difference between knowing how to cast a spell and knowing how to use a spell, and Bellatrix could actually use it.

She weaved her wand like the handle of a whip and coaxed the length of the spell to danced in a defensive manner. It caught and consumed nearly half of Arianna's barrage of chained elemental spells. He'd never seen somebody try to use the capacitance whip defensively by capturing charms, but he'd also never seen a lightning vine, ice shuriken and infernal raven spell-chain before. All three of those were transfigured charms, elemental charms transfigured into the likeness and behavior of objects or animals. Very advanced. And yet that little spell chain was sliced into pieces, literally, with a single flick of Bellatrix's wrist.

"She's using it wrong though." Harry pointed out. "It's normally meant to be hurled at or wrapped around a shield or ward to sap it and then explode when it inevitably overloads the whip with the resulting feedback and amplification. Using it to catch spells is a surefire way to have it blow up in your own face."

The two men in front of them turn around again with looks that were both inquisitive and impressed.

"That is some rather esoteric charms knowledge you have there, young man." Said the man on the left. "I don't think we've been introduced, Garrick who is your friend?"

"Ah! Mister Goyle. This is my apprentice, Harry. Well, Hadrian." Ollivander introduced.

Gregory's grandfather. He had died in Voldemort's first war in his timeline. He and Crabbe super senior, the man next to him, were the reasons both families were wealthy enough to hang out with the likes of Lucius Malfoy's. These men had built their family wealth with their own hands. Literally. Grandpa Goyle had lived beside Muggles with his first wife, a Muggle herself, as a mason. He lived without magic for years, and when he became a widower, he returned to pureblood society to inherit his late father's estate. As the sole heir he used it was to build the best magical construction company in the isles. He also still operated on the Muggle side of things.

Grandpappy Crabbe had worked on developing the first methods for safely harvesting dragon blood after Dumbledore's work with Nicholas on their twelve uses. He had left the British Isles during Voldemort's first rise to get away from all of the nonsense. Charlie had actually apprenticed directly under him, and the old man had quit dragon handling to take over care of magical creatures after Hagrid transferred to Bauexbatons to teach Care of Magical Creatures there... And to pump Olympe full of babies. Good god! And they'd all thought Molly was a baby-making machine!

"Does Hadrian have a last name?" Crabbe asked, offering a hand.

"Morrigan." Harry said, taking the hand and shaking it firmly.

"Morrigan? Any relation to..." Goyle began but broke off.

"Last heir." Harry said cheekily. "Found out recently with a Gringotts blood test. I'm still not fully read up on all the inheritance entails."

Crabbe looked at him suspiciously.

"What do you mean by that?" The dragon handler asked.

"Well, I mean I still haven't learned all of the basic pureblood etiquette, let alone what my duties and powers as a head of a noble house are. A lot of my apprenticeship with Garrick will inevitably be learning to be part of this culture that feels somewhat thrusted upon me. It's all a bit overwhelming." Harry lied through his teeth.

Hook. Line. Sinker. He had them now. He could practically hear the astonished questions in their mind. A non-pureblood actually learning the etiquette, responsibilities and culture of the society he was entering? An immigrant actually trying to integrate and give back to the society that was welcoming him to be a part of it instead of trying to abuse this newfound power and wealth to try and change it towards his foreign sensibilities? What alien creature was this?!

"You are not a pureblood I take it?" Goyle asked, reaching into his basket and pulling out two beers.

Harry and Garrick both accepted them.

"Half. Mother was Muggleborn. Ironically it was from her I apparently inherited the estate, what miniscule amount of it remains. Probably descended from a squib on the Morrigan line, but we can't trace directly to the individual, only that I am of the Morrigan line." Harry explained.
Now they knew he wasn't a Muggleborn intent on trying to make magical Britain look like the post-modernist hellscape that was Muggle Britain. Which honestly? If most Muggleborns even pretended to think this way, there would be no followers of Voldemort. Or a Voldemort, for that matter.

"Hm. Well, I hope Garrick is doing a good of teaching you by frontloading the responsibilities instead of the privileges." Crabbe said, eyeing Ollivander.

"Hmph." Garrick said, probably amused at the charade Harry had forced him into. "I've barely had time to teach him anything, but I do hope to scare him off."

"I've learned most of the important stuff." Harry said. "I'm most worried about participating in the board of Governors for Hogwarts and voting on Wizengomat issues, but I don't know the first thing about either. I'll probably have to find trustworthy proxies for both and shadow them for the next... how many hundred years will it take me?"

Grandpas Crabbe and Goyle both laughed piteously at the joke and humility. Harry did his best to smile bashfully as he finally took a drink of the beer.

He felt a bit manipulative in playing to the Pureblood hopes and concerns for Muggleborns and their participation in society. The fact he meant what he siad in spirit, if not reality, helped ease that guilt though. He absolutely did want to do a good job of performing his roles as the head of a noble house. He had as Lord Potter and as Lord Black and will do so now as Lord Morrigan. And he did love wizarding culture, faults and all, and didn't want to poison it with Muggle culture. What changes he did plan to make would be by example and good will.

"You seem pretty secretive of your maiden name." Goyle said with a snicker at his own joke. "So, I won't pry into who you were before you took of the mantle of Morrigan. But I do want to know where in the world you got that knowledge of higher charms."

"Oh! Charms was always my best subject, after defense which I always treated as applied charms class. What, with every spell I ever learned being a charm." Harry explained. "My other subjects suffered for it, but I would always spend time I was supposed to be using on Potions and history essays reading up on Charm theory. Still trying to remedy my dearth of history knowledge, especially now that I'm entering a world where such knowledge actually matters."

They both nodded at his words.

"So far as an adult I've sort of just wandered, trying every profession imaginable, searching every place imaginable for where I belonged. Only for the place I belong to fall into my lap and now I need to set roots. My twenties have kind of been a bust so far. But I have picked up a lot, especially about magic. I've really just focused on what I am good at, charms, but I've never bothered pursuing a masters."

"Few true masters do." Goyle hummed. "Mastery often comes from passion, not dull academics. There are masters hidden in plain sight all over the world who just never pursued their craft academically. I've met grocers who could out-transfigure McGonagall and fisherman who could outcharm Flitwick."

Oooh! Harry needed to write that down.

"That does seem to be how it goes." Garrick hummed.

"What are your best and worst charms? I want to get a feel for you." Crabbe asked.

"Best? Patronus, by a mile. Worst? Cheering charm. I can still barely pull it off after all these years." Harry explained. "I think I just have a block, revulsion towards trying to influence other people's feelings. Same reason I'm so pants and the mind arts."

He probably shouldn't have shared that last bit. If word gets out that he is terrible at the mind arts people might opt to try and use them against him. But it was a good red herring because he didn't say which mind arts he was awful at. Legilimancy? Terrible. Occlumency? Excellent. Let them come.

"We all have that one spell or area that we can never get the hang of from first and second year." Crabbe consoled. "For me it was the flame freezing charm. I still can't pull it off."

Harry stared at grandpa Crabbe. One of the most experienced dragon handlers on the planet can't use the flame freezing charm? Harry refused to believe that. Surely he was joking. Right?

Kaboom!

"Aaaand that would be Bellatrix's broken wand backfiring while channeling an overcharged capacitance whip." Harry said cheekily.

They all turned back to the nearest dueling square to see the damage done, and it was honestly underwhelming. Just a gash in the earth in the middle of the square and two duelists flat on their asses. Both were slowly picking themselves back up, but Harry could tell Bellatrix had been knocked out of the ring and lost as a result. Arabella's daughter was still inside of it.

"Well, at least neither of them died from that bit of stupidity." Garrick sighed in relief. Then Harry's words registered. "Wait, did you say broken wand?!"

"Yessir." Harry said. "She has a blockage in it. She brought it in yesterday and I got her a spare. I warned her against using it and yet here she is using it in a duel. Now all I need to do is find a way to get down there and kick her ass without anybody seeing." Harry said only half-jokingly. "Using an advanced charm you don't understand with a wand I specifically warned her not to use warrants an ass-whooping."

"I didn't take you for the type of man to hit a lady." Grandpa Crabbe said with a raised eyebrow.

He was half-joking, but Harry knew full well how Purebloods viewed a man who would raise his hand to a woman.

"I'm not. But she at least needs to be yelled at for a solid five minutes. Even if I'm not willing to actually put my hands on her." Harry said.

"Don't worry. Cygnus has no issues giving her the thrashing even with her no longer being a child." Crabbe said. "And when I tell him what his daughter got up to today, he will be putting his belt to good use. Of that you can be sure."

Cygnus Black the third was still alive?! For a world ravaged by an extra decade and a half of war with Voldemort, is sure was lacking in dead people.

"Ah, children. They seem to believe that once they leave the house, they are exempt from corporal punishment. I only had to remind my eldest son of the taste of my belt once. It is a rather humbling experience for a thirty-five-year-old." Goyle reminisced before finishing his beer.
Corporal punishment was one of those things Harry would be trying to change. But he did have more important things to worry about now. He'd already exposed himself to the pureblood world as an open-minded and respectful interloper. And that was a good start to opening avenues of peaceful resolutions to the conflicts that ailed wizarding Britain. And that, above all else, was what he wanted.

---

Notes:​

As you probably could tell, the completely new chapters will be title with the keyword NEW at the beginning and the mostly old ones with OLD. this way returning readers, who are rightly pissed at me, know where to start and what to skip. Though the ones titled old will still have some changes, even additions, they will mostly be having things removed that just didn't work. My fanficitons now serve as my portfolio and it needs to be cleaned up. I'm sorry.

As for this chapter, I really want to focus on the themes of how interconnected wizarding society is, along with how deep and unifying magic in the Harry Potter universe is. Everybody knows everybody. Friendships, rivalries and romances spanning generations are remembered and carved into all of their beings. There is a lot of love and respect between the people of the wizarding world, even between the sides of the war and bitter enemies.

I am already in love with grandpappy Crabbe and Grandpappy Goyle and I just made them up for this chapter. It opens so many avenues for focusing on the major themes of this story that I kind of lost track of in the original version.

But I've also put into polite words the real conflict of Voldemort's wars. It is an age-old conflict. A foreign population being welcomed into a nation and refusing to integrate, trying to change the host society to suit them as if they were invaders instead of guests. Believe me, I'm Jewish. I know this story VERY well and how badly it can end. It won't end like that in this story. This story will have a happy ending and beautiful journey towards it. A journey of concessions and showing empathy to people you disagree with instead of calling them Nazi and Fascist(completely different things) despite not knowing what either even is. These are concepts and ideals I think plenty of people these days need to try and internalize if humanity wants to continue... you know, existing.

---

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I take commissions now! you can pay me to write your fanfiction as three others are currently doing. My prices are as follows.

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$25 per 500 words for original fiction/nonfiction or anything else that is not fanfiction. I am still looking for my first nonfiction gig so I can move into ghostwriting professionally, so if you have a novel you really want written contact me.

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[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 32:

A Hogwarts Emergency​

---

Harry stepped out of the phone booth and into the main lobby of the Ministry of Magic. His newly won chest pin declared his purpose there to be "Prospecting." That cool, female voice in all of the ministry's facilities was one fun gal. Great sense of humor for a robot. He didn't understand why more people didn't come in through the visitor's entrance.

Instead, the many public sectors workers were rushing in and out of the fireplaces lining the wall, as usual. Bureaucrats. Always in a hurry, never getting anything done.

Harry marched past the tacky fountain and towards the check-in station with the shortest line and waited. Then waited. Then waited some more.

"Next." The man at the stand ordered.

Harry finally reached him and proffered his wand. He took it and placed it on the now familiar scale, which then produced a slip of parchment on the unused half.

"Professor Hadrian Morrigan?" The Auror confirmed.

"Yessir." Harry said politely.

"Premonition report?" He clarified further.

"Right again." Harry said.

"Department of Mysteris, level nine. Next!" The Auror commanded, handing Harry back his wand and the slip of paper.

Harry got out of the way and advanced through the turnstile and meandered through the crowd towards the lifts. Arriving in time to squeeze in, he packed himself into the sardine can with barely enough room left for the cage to close behind him. And down they went, stopping at each level to deposit and uptake more people. Unfortunately for most of the people there, the elevator had to go down one level before coming back up, as it was all automated. Which begged the question as to why they would bother to get on before it started to come back up, but these were wizards and witches after all.

And so, down one level they went before the bell dinged and the cool female voice announced their arrival.

"Level 9: Department of Mysteries and Courtrooms." She said.

Harry got off. The slick, familiar black walls greeted him like old friends as the lift went back up, leaving him alone in the hall. He took a deep breath, enjoying the musty yet somehow clean smell of the less often walked hallway. Then he marched straight on towards the door that once haunted so many of his dreams. Reaching it, he raised a fist to bang on it, only for it to open before he could.

Who should be facing but Prophecy herself. Head of the exact department he was looking for. Now wasn't that an amazing coincidence?! Almost as if she knew he was coming, but that would be ridiculous. That would require her to have precognitive abilities or something.
"Good evening Mr Potter." Prophecy greeted in a silly attempt at intimidation.

"Good evening Mrs Polkiss." Harry greeted back.

He felt her death glare and confusion from beneath her obscuring cloak just as clearly without Ghillie Dhu as if he were actually using the sixth sense. His poker face had gotten really good over the years, and he was somehow managing to maintain it in that moment.
"How... In the world?!" She asked.

Harry lifted both hands to his face and made spirit fingers.

"Psychic!" He whispered, dropping his poker face to grin at her.

The truth? He had figured it out in his own world. Hers was the only identity he ever uncovered, and then only because she suddenly appeared in Piers life as a retiree a day after Prophecy retired from the department. It was kind of her fault for telling him she just retired the day before as Mrs Polkiss and he just deduced it then. And now she accidentally admitted to it. He really ought to have picked on his world's version more, but after what Piers had gone through he left her in peace.

She sighed and reached one hand beneath her obscuring hood to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Why are you here, "Hadrian"?" She asked annoyedly.

"A student turned in a post cognitive dream and I would like to register it with your office." Harry said, now serious.

He handed her the letter and twine bound vial and she took it skeptically.

"Under what basis do you think it genuine?" She asked.

"A subject in the dream spoke perfect parseltongue, which the child in question could not." Harry explained. "Nor could he have faked it."

"I see." She said.

Prophecy then produced from within her cloak a clipboard with a form for dream visions.

"Name of dreamer, date on which the dream occurred, yada yada." She asked boredly with quill suddenly in hand.

"All detailed in the letter around the vial." Harry said.

She sighed, but diligently undid the twine and opened the letter. The way she managed to do this with a clipboard in one hand and quill in the other spoke to her many years doing office work. With all these things still in her hands - quill, clipboard, vial and letter - she then managed to hold a wand and tap the letter, casting a series of silent word duplication charms to copy all of the details onto her form. Pocketing everything except for the clipboard and quill she signed the dotted line and tore the page out to hand to him.

"Here. This form recognizes that I received the dream and the details you've shared with me. You will get a letter detailing our decision on its veracity by owl." She said curtly. "Did you need anything else, Professor?"

"No. Did you?" He offered.

"No." She said, before closing the door in his face.

"Give my love to Piers!" Harry yelled through the door, knowing it would annoy the woman to be left wondering how Harry knew her son.

Chuckling to himself, Harry folded the confirmation slip before pocketing it then went on his way.

---

The next morning saw Harry sleepily hiking through the castle to Albus's office, pensieve in hand. He made a wrong turn on the fourth floor and had to turn back, barely dodging peeves riding a flying wardrobe like a surfboard through the halls. He ignored the poor Ravenclaw boy chasing after the poltergeist. Presumably, he was the owner of said wardrobe. It could provide for a good learning experience in terms of the utility of sticking charms.

He finally arrived at the gargoyle to find it standing aside and the spiral staircase fully raised. He climbed it to hear the yelling match in progress.

"I only took this job because it was part time and didn't take away from my other responsibilities. I can do quidditch, flying lessons and game nights, but I can't run fencing, javelin or riding clubs as well!" Hooch explained.

"But you did agree to the possibility of taking on such responsibilities when you signed up." Albus pointed out. "And I have no choice but to hold you to them for the rest of the term, as I cannot hire two new people with the term just started. We already did all of our hiring and used up the allotted funds for the task."

"Then it may be wise for the rest of us to try and pick up the slack." Harry interrupted as he walked inside. "I, for one, am an excellent flyer and love Quidditch. I can handle those responsibilities. Beyond that? I'm sure Filius can handle fencing and Severus throwing weapons."
He put down the pensieve in it's normal, ornate cabinet.

"What makes you think Severus has any talent or skill with throwing weapons?" Albus asked.

"Psychic!" Harry whispered while making spirit fingers.

Albus and Hooch both groaned.

"Anyways, here's your pensive back. Now that one of my students had their first dream vision, I don't need to hang onto it. Future students can wait for your availability." Harry explained. "I figured you'd enjoy pensieve walking through the visions of distant pasts or futures."
"That does sound delightful. But back to the issue at hand, I do nor foresee Filius or Severus having the free time to take up lead roles in clubs. Those who can, certainly don't have the skill or talent in them. And while the ghosts go a long way towards ameliorating that, clubs do require a staff member with a wand there to supervise and intervene for injuries or prevent them. And such workers must be approved by the board of governors."

"Hm. then it sounds like it's time for me to take up my seat and call an emergency meeting of the governors." Harry said. "I'm positive that we can get the funding for three or four new wands on deck."

"What makes you so certain of that?" Albus asked.

"Because I can afford the expense out of pocket, if need be. But once many of them hear about their children's sudden interest in these ancient arts, they'll be all over it."

"And where are you going to find people with the free time to run school clubs?" Hooch asked.

"Gee, if only we knew somebody who ran a sanctuary for disenfranchised and unemployed individuals from a wide range of backgrounds to recruit from and network through!" Harry said sardonically. "Why, he could simply write to all of them with offers and they'd jump right on it, wouldn't they?"

The twinkling returned to Dumbledore's eyes in that moment. This pleased Harry greatly.

---

Tofty's home was a small cottage in the English countryside. It had a classic thatched roof, easy and cheap to maintain for a witch but a nightmare for muggles, and a tomato garden along the path that was dying from the coming winter.

The front door was already open for them when they arrived and the chatter of old women was already wafting out of it.

"Just what I like to do on my weekends." Marchbanks complained. "Spending time with coworkers."

"Oh come on! You have some pretty great coworkers." Harry consoled.

"You have better ones, yet I don't see you having breakfast at their houses." Marchbanks countered.

"True, but unlike you I haven't been on sick leave long enough to miss them." Harry double countered.

"That's fair. Let's go see the naggers." Marchbanks decided.

They marched through the front door and were greeted by Professor Tofty herself, who stood in the doorway to the left of the entrance hall looking into the living room.

"They're finally here! Good timing, the ginger snaps just came out of the oven." She greeted.

And like that the trip was already made worthwhile.

They sat on the white, flowery furniture and Harry was promptly introduced to their coworkers. Mafalda Hopkirk, he knew, but the other three were new to him. There was Tofty's undersecretary, Felicity, Mafalada's undersecretary, Hana, and an accountant for the testing department named Zoe. The last of whom poured the two men cups of tea just as Tofty returned with a platter of steaming hot ginger snaps.

"So, Professor Morrigan. I would like to cordially welcome you to the world of being an educator. How has it been treating you thus far?" Tofty began.

"Oh! Excellently. My students have all been a joy, and so far I've only had to give two detentions, both at the same time for fighting. The coworkers keep me on my toes. I sure do love being the least wizened and intelligent person in a room, lets me feel like a student again. Speaking of!" harry explained before motioning to the people in the room.

He then let them take the floor as he finally reached for the platter of ginger snaps. Before they could begin a knock came at the door and in walked the last person Harry wanted to spend his Saturday morning with. The only pleasant thing about her appearance was the box of danishes she carried inside. Though he had to admit, orange was a better color on her than vibrant pink and the genuine smile she wore was a marked improvement over the smugness he remembered her for.

"Morning young ladies!" Umbridge greeted as she put the box down next to the ginger snaps.

"Morning Dolores!" The not so young ladies greeted.

"Oh my, Alastor is here? And who is this?" Dolores greeted the men present, noticing Harry mid gingersnap.

He swallowed and took a sip of the tea to wash it down.

"Hadrian Morrigan, at your service." harry greeted as politely as he could.

Play nice. Just like with Bellatrix she's not your Umbridge.

"Oh!" Umbridge cried out and joy absolutely bloomed on her face. "Professor, Hadrian Morrigan?"

Harry nodded at the clarification.

"I am so indescribably pleased to meet you! Divination was my favorite class as a girl, and it was maddening seeing it fall from the heights Professor Shunpike had raised it to the lows that Trelawney took it. By all accounts I've heard you are doing a wonderful job. Thank you." Dolores said whole heartedly.

She offered a hand and Harry took it, though he was unable to hide the look of whiplash on his face as the heartfelt speech.

Although a piece of a puzzle he had never thought of that was the Dolores Umbridge just fell into place. She had completely right to sack Professor Trelawney in his world. That woman was only kept on staff because Dumbledore needed to protect her from Voldemort, not because she was the best teacher for the job. Which was a flagrant disregard for his responsibilities as headmaster. Still, she didn't have to show such animosity and cruelty in the manner of which she sacked Sybil. But he could understand it.

After all, if he had been given seven years under professor Lupin only for Lockheart to replace him for the next generation he'd feel pretty hateful of that grinning goon as well. Moreso than he already was, at least.

"So, what are we talking about?" Dolores asked, sitting down and being handed a cup of tea by Zoe.

"Work. Alastor already discussed how much he loves his new job. Why don't you share next?" Mafalda offered.

"Oh, well I'm a secretary for the department of games and sports." Dolores explained.

"Really? What sports do you play or follow?" Harry asked.

"Pfft! Hah! Do any of us really seem the sporting type?" Dolores asked. "No, I have no love or even understanding of quidditch, or dueling. But, all of the people at the ministry who do have no love or understanding of properly filling out documents and financial forms. That's where I come in. Cleaning up after the boys."

"And they are such boys about it." Felicity complained.

As their discussion descended into complaining how the men of the sports department never seem to grow up, Harry withdrew a stack of blank parchments and his wand, along with two documents. One was his handwritten invitation detailing the club positions that needed filling and the other was the list of werewolves who stayed at the shack last week and the guests they brought. HE spent the rest of the chat using the copy and paste spell for the names and again for the letter.

"What're you working on there?" Hana asked.

"Eh, Hogwarts needs some extra staff due to the explosion of club activities. Part time. So, I'm sending out letters to pretty much everyone I know asking if they or anybody they know can monitor fencing ,javelining, boating and other clubs. I don't suppose any of you can or know somebody who can fill these positions?" Harry explained.

"Did you miss the part where Dolores said none of us are the sporting type?" Tofty asked. "That and nobody we know has the free time.

"My medical leave ends in another week, then I'll be too busy." Marchbanks refused. "Otherwise, I could probably handle some of the non-physical clubs, like chess and Gobstones."

Well, it was worth a shot. There was only one last place to ask around before calling a meeting with the governors.

Harry stormed into the shrieking shack.

"Oi! Wheezes!" He called out.

"Yeah!" Said Katie from the first floor.

"What is it?!" Fred called down from the second.

They both stumbled into the parlor, Katie sooner than Fred. He waited for them both to be in front of him. It was still early on a saturday morning so there weren't any customers yet, they'd start appearing around noon.

HE handed them the list of positions.

"You guys know anybody who can work part time at Hogwarts running these clubs?" He asked.

They took a moment to look it over and slowly shook their heads all the while.

"I got nothing on these, sorry." Fred said.

"Well what about your brother?" Katie asked.

Fredd gave her a look.

"Bill." She clarified.

"Bill? What about him" Fred asked, rechecking the list and seemingly trying to remember if Bill had ever picked up any of them.

"Well, isn't he chasing that French bird? The fencing duelist? Maybe he could put in a word with her?" Katie asked. "Have her teach swordplay."

"Oh, you mean Fleur?!" Harry asked. "I don't know why I didn't think of her. I'll write her directly. I imagine she'd love teaching at Hogwarts."

It would at least be amusing to see her suffer the Scottish winter for the first time again, not to mention how the students would act around the part-Veela. Bill would be the tipping factor though, as he knew she couldn't resist the chance to be in appirating distance from him and his family.

Was he breaking his own rules against using his knowledge from his world as a basis for decisions? Yeah, but sometimes it was just too delicious not to.

But then something occurred to him.

He was already invited Poliakoff and, by extension, Viktor. Now he had invited Fleur. That left out one person with the same connection to him as those two, a connection only he knew of but was a powerful one all the same.

And so, he took out his final sheet of paper and titled it to the fourth champion from his universe. God, he couldn't wait to see Cedric again.

---

Somewhere off the coast of Australia:​

Voldemort fell into an exhausted, disoriented and agonized heap on the wooden deck of the boat as the boot he used as a portkey flew aside. It was the single longest portkey he had ever taken, and it had been a mistake. A portkey straight from the Germany to Australia would have been bad enough, but that he had to program it to take circuitous routes around the Netherlands, Russia and Indian Ocean.

Five minutes. Five whole minutes. He thought he could handle it. He had been wrong.

"My lord!" Walburga Black's voice called out to him.

The sound of each of her footsteps against the hardwood ship deck felt like a sledgehammer to his skull, and when she tried to cradle him into a sitting position it felt like he was rising the portkey all over again.

"You ever been hungover, concussed and suffering from a category five flu after running a five k marathon?" Tom asked in his best attempt at humor. "That's what this feels like."

"My god, how many Portkeys did you take?" She asked, genuine concern dripping from her voice.

"Just the one." He groaned out.

She was silent for a few moments after that, and when she spoke again it was with a considerate whisper.

"A single portkey? From Germany to Australia? In one go?" She clarified.

"Yup." he said.

Another moment of silence.

"Where in the world did you get a portkey capable of going ten thousand miles in one trip?' She asked.

"Oh you know..." Tom said in his best imitation of humble. "I made it."

"How?"

"With about twenty pages of algebraic topology." He explained.

Yup. He'd had to graph out the Portkey's route using a three-dimensional model of the earth, a highly detailed one Lucius kept in his mansion observatory, to plan that one out. Plotting functions to weave around the ward lines separating each country and keeping along international waters where no such wards existed had taken the better part of two nights. If he had just taken a straight route from Germany to here he would have made it in half the time with half the pain, but every single nation along the route he passed through would have detected his passing and plotted out his exact course and final destination.

Yeah, they would have had the armies of at least fie wizarding nations shoved up their asses so fast it would have been the end of Voldemort forever.

"Is the object I left in your care still protected?" He asked, still barely conscious but getting better by the minute.

"Of course, Tom. It is exactly where you left it. It's protections unmolested." She told him.

"That's great." He said, trying to prop himself up but failing miserably.

Then, all of a sudden, Walburga did the unthinkable. She side-along apparated him, and he knew nothing more.

---

Before you complain I'm being too nice to Umbridge, she dies brutally in my other story "Blood-Soaked Succession." This story is supposed to be nice and fair to all characters and show the wizarding world as a more wholesome and interconnected place, even for characters as atrocious as Umbridge.

Oh shit! What about Rita? Hmmmm. Not sure what I'll do with her.

---

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[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 33:

Title Suggestions are welcome. I got nothing on this one.​

---

Bellatrix dropped onto her stomach to dodge beneath a white crescent shape that the dummy had just flung at her.

When she had invited Harry to join her for her duelist training he had expected to be taking part in it, but instead the entire ordeal was her simply showing off her world to him. She started off with dodging drills. The exercises required her to do them without a wand, with her goal being to charge all the way to the dummy enchanted to send illusory beams of light to indicate different types of spells, such as the large bludgeoning curse she just sidestepped.

He was pleasantly surprised to discover she did, in fact, train in classic gym clothes in place of dueling robes. The twenties style shorts and tank top were less form fitting than what a modern woman could get away with, but she wasn't a modern woman, and he wouldn't have her any other way.

She finished her training with a flourish, somehow wiggling through a spray of firework sparks as if she were trying to squeeze through a pair of prison bars to then slap the dummy on the top of its head. It slouched like a robot being shut down and the practice was over.
Harry applauded and she curtsied before coming up to where he sat in the bleachers next to fresh towels and a water bottle.

She toweled herself off while catching her breath before taking a drink.

"Next is deflecting practice." She told him between gulps. "The dummy's fake spells are enchanted to be dispelled by the same counter curses as the real deal and be caught or batted away with the same movements. It's a little finnicky and requires more precision than the real thing, but that actually helps."

Harry nodded.

"A mistake in the manufacturing leading to making it superior in the end? Gotta love happy little accidents like that." He pointed out.

She giggled at his humor, but if she did so because she recognized the reference or because quoting Bob Ross is a slam dunk even to the uninitiated, he couldn't quite tell.

She walked back out to the pit and stood in front of her dummy, this time with wand in hand. Said dummy stood back up and began firing the imitation spells at her, and this time she blocked, deflected or caught each spell as they came. It was like a dance, or moreso like the baton twirler at the front of marching band with a smidgeon of ribbon dancing thrown in.

There was a knock at the door and Bellatrix stopped.

"Aspidochelone." She said.

The dummy also stopped throwing the harmless spells at her. Interesting choice of safe word. Way too many syllables and way too easy to mispronounce.

It also appeared to be the word to unlock the door into the training room based on the loud click it made.

"You may come in." Bellatrix called.

In walked Victor Krum and his werewolf friend, Poliakoff.

"Well, you two sure react to correspondence quickly." Harry said. "But how did you know to find me here?"

"Ve vent to your sanctuary but you vere not there. Your red-haired friend said I could find you here, Professor Morrigan." Victor explained by way of greeting.

"Bellatrix, meet Victor Krum and Halasz Poliakoff. Both were guests during the last full moon." Harry introduced.

Bella curtsied again and both gentleman bowed.

"I wrote to them, and others, yesterday when Albus brought to my attention that the school was short staffed. We need part timers to handle the sudden burst in new clubs. I wrote to everybody I could asking if they knew anybody." Harry explained. "And I can't imagine they made the trip all the way out here just to refuse."

"You vould be correct, professor. If you will have me I vould be delighted to take over the responsibilities for both the wrestling and boxing clubs." Viktor said.

"And I am a chess master." Poliakoff told him. "I can handle that and most other game clubs."

Harry turned to Bella.

"Well, that relieves madame hooch of a lot of her responsibilities. Three or four more applicants and we should be copacetic." He told her.

The door opened again, and Harry didn't even have to turn around to see who it was. The look of unadulterated and unreasonable hatred on Bellatrix's face told him all to well. It was the natural reaction women, even gorgeous ones like Bella, had to Veela entering their presence. Down girl, you need not be jealous of this one.

"Deed zomebody request a fencing and dance instructor?" The thick French accent of Fleur Delacour greeted the room.

Oh right, he forgot that that some of the girls organized for a dancing club too. They were still scrambling to find any boys willing to join and had resorted to bullying the shy ones, like little Xeno and Creevey, into signing up. With Fleur at the helm, he imagined they'd suddenly find it less difficult to find volunteers.

---

Voldemort woke up in chains.

This was not, despite what some people may think, a novel experience for him. You don't spend decades freedom fighting with small groups around the world without being captured from time to time. Now, being chained up by a longtime friend and ally? Very novel. At least when it lacked the kinkiness that this situation deserved. But for the life of him he couldn't guess what he'd done to enrage this Lady of House Black, but he was fast realizing he just had that effect on them.

"Good morning Tom. All recovered from your portkey?" Walburga asked sweetly.

Yup. She was pissed. Was she on team Morrigan too? How the hell would that have happened?

"You must know how your recent actions look." She went on. "Killing the only other remaining Knights and leaving such a message for the media to find."

She picked up a newspaper and threw it at his feet. He couldn't quite read the title from his chained position but he assumed it detailed the nice eulogy he had given Fenrir. Yada yada disease destroyed is mind, yada yada werewolves would not be utilized in the war any longer, yada yada werewolves need help not war, yada yada the Morrigan werewolf sanctuary does good work. He wondered if Hadrian had gotten word of it yet. He sure would like to see/hear his reaction.

"And now here you are, destroying your anchors to immortality." Walburga said. "Have you abandoned your mission, or have you simply forgotten it and given up?"

Tom sighed, allowing himself to show his tiredness.

"I have done neither, Walburga." He said. "I have merely failed it, as have we all."

She punched him then. It was an impressive jab, just as impressive as Bella's and Narcissa's. Now all he had to do was cross paths with an irate Andromeda and he'd have earned a shiner from each woman of house Black yet living... then again, there was little Nymphadora who wasn't so little anymore. Hmmm. And Sirius was courting that duelist. Perchance he had three more black eyes waiting for him in the future.

"You failed? How can you fail when you have all of eternity to accomplish your mission." Walburga the Chatty continued. "You who conquered death, and yet are now set on unconquering it."

"Your eternal guardian, I know." Tom said. "Like Salazar's basilisk at Hogwarts, ready to be unleashed on any army foolish enough to siege Hogwarts, I was to protect the sacred bloodlines and be your most powerful defender, when needed."

"So you DO remember." She said. "You achieved half of it, to find the secrets of immortality and lead us to a world without death. So why are you undoing that success?"

"Because it was my success in that that led me to failing my other task." Tom declared. "I have failed to protect them. They are all dead."

She sighed exasperatedly.

"Yes Tom, people die." She said in a mocking tone. "But they all lived long lives in pursuit of worthy goals. Did they not?"

Tom laughed, his normal mirthless laugh.

"Long lives? Fenrir was the longest lasting after me and he was in his seventies!" Tom roared. "Remind me again, what's the average wizard lifespan?"

She shrinked away at his tone, and blinked at his question.

"That's right, one hundred and sixty, with a quarter of us living longer than that. None of them made it halfway, and you think this a mere coincidence?" He demanded.

"Don't give me that tripe! You're undoing your immortality because you are tired of living, tired of fighting." She demanded. "Don't take me for a fool, I've seen it before. Men who make war lose themselves in it and cannot go on living. You sit there serenading me with your woes and regrets of our friends and lovers passing on before their time and yet opt to follow in their footsteps like a coward! They died fighting! They died in service to something they believed in, which I know, is a foreign concept to a wretch like you who thinks the length of ones life determines its value."

Ouch! Now that one stung. Leave it to Walburga to plunge the knife exactly where it hurt the most. He must have shown how much he felt it, because she sighed and switched tactics.

"You are hurting, Tom. I get that." She said. "But what I don't get is why you didn't come to one of us with that hurt? We are your friends. That's what we are for. They all love you. I still love you. Hell, Orion still loves you. You have all the time in the world, why throw it away?"

That last name was a sore topic, and Tom knew she hadn't meant it as a barb, but it still felt like one. He let it go. She must have realized the faux pas, because she knelt down and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Do you truly believe our tactics had nothing to do with their early deaths?" Tom asked, looking up but still leaning into her touch. "We have been going about things the wrong way, our tactics have been reprehensible. And my Horcruxes were the wrong path to immortality. Like you said, I have all the time in the world. Even with a mortal life I have another century to find a better way to extend human life, to conquer death. But the Horcruxes must go."

She removed her hand from his cheek and backed away from him.

"I don't believe you Tom, your handsome good looks alone aren't enough to make me believe your words alone. I'm not a little girl anymore." She said. "I want your word. You've never broken that, and I know you won't start now. I want your word that if I help you regain your mortality, you won't seek death. I want your word that you won't die before me, at the very least. And I remind you, us witches live longer than you dumb, irresponsible wizards."

He snorted at the boast. He knew he couldn't lie to her; he knew that if he gave that promise he would have to keep it, and it was a painful promise to make. On a fundamental level she was right, he was tired. He was very nearly ready to go on. Could duty and his word keep him going? Yes. Would it be orders of magnitude more torturous than his life thus far? Also, yes.

And yet, his mission must be carried out.

"You have my word, Walburga. I will live to sit on your bedside as you're withered and ugly and your great grandchildren mourn you." He promised.

She swiped him over the back of his head for the lip there, but his shackles fell as she did so.

"Very well, Tom. Let us go visit the Rainbow Serpent, shall we?" Walburga said.

---

"I somehow always forget that the seasons are flipped down here." Voldemort complained as he shivered from the frigid breeze.

"Are you a wizard, or aren't you?" Walburga teased.

"Well, I would cast a warming charm on myself, but warming charms always feel better when a lady casts it on you for some reason." He said. "Kinda like how food cooked by somebody else tastes better."

"That or maybe you're pants at cooking?" Walburga suggested. "And also, the whole not able to cast spells around here thing?"

That was a distinct possibility. Fortunately, the black, rocky ground they were half climbing along was already beginning to warm up from the afternoon sunlight. So, its preventing him from casting said warming charms was a moot point. As they crested the last hill of black granite their goal came into view.

A great Olga, surrounded by black boulders on all sides, sat in the middle of the draw formed by the rocky hills on either side. It wasn't as large as Uluru, or as decorative as Kata Tjuta but much like Uluru and Kata Tsuja it had been created by a rainbow serpent as a marking stone above the cave and water system it had dug itself in the rock below. Unlike Uluru and Kata Tsuja, it was still inhabited and was surrounded on all sides by the mysterious cursed stone of Kalkajaka. This made it a perfect place to hide something from wizards and Muggles alike.
As an active Olga still inhabited by a wild rainbow serpent, the wizarding government of Australia and aboriginal mages protected the entire area from Muggles. As a Kalkajaka it kept all but the most suicidal wizards away.

Nobody knew for certain where the black stones came from, but all enchanters and alchemists knew for sure wizards created them. The leading theory was that it was some kind of equal and opposite enchanting method. By binding two such slabs of granite, they could strengthen a positive enchantment on one by simultaneous casting a dark curse on the other.

It held up in theory and had been proven through experimentation. Problem was, none of the positive counterparts had ever been found and there was no evidence of a wizarding society large enough ever having existed in Australia. Who could have produced so many billions of these wretched stones in such piles all over the continent? These stones that made all wizards, witches and even squibs feel as if the magic in their veins had turned to wriggling worms and wanted to burst out through their chest. Merely using magic around these things could kill a wizard or witch. It also completely incapacitated any sensory abilities.

And that wasn't even the greatest of the defenses he had placed around his Horcrux.

They neared a freshwater stream and he spoke in parseltongue.

"I have returned, great mother." He spoke to the water.

They stood there and waited patiently. And waited. And waited some more. He was about to speak again when the water's surface finally exploded upwards in a deluge of water. Always the melodrama with these larger snakes.

She was even larger than he recalled, and he once again hoped he'd have the chance to introduce her to Salazar's equally large basilisk. Sure, experimental breeding was illegal, but since when did he care about illegality?

Rainbow serpents were effectively giant, white-lipped pythons. That was it. Their dark scales were iridescent, reflecting a rainbow sheen. There was also the small matter that their scales were elongated, halfway towards being feathers. They were still very much magical creatures, as their gigantism, like giants, was born of magic and their scales made for excellent wand cores. The core of his spare wand came specifically from her, actually.

There was also the small ability they have to eat stone and regurgitate it into solid masses. Hence how they carve out these tunnels and used the material to form Olga's.

"It has been too long, speaker." She said.

"Indeed, it has." Tom said.

---

"Wait, me?!" Mr Tonks asked.

"Yup. You." Harry confirmed.

"Um. Okay, I'm honored, but why me?" Ted asked, still confused.

"Yeah, why him?" Andromeda asked. "I honestly think I would make a better choice, seeing as I have more free time that my employed husband."

"Because you are the only person I know who is meets all of my requirements to stand in my place at the board of Governors." Harry said.

"And these requirements are?" Andromeda asked with a glare.

Harry listed them off on his fingers.

"Has attended and graduated from Hogwarts. Has raised a child who also attended and graduated from Hogwarts. Is knowledgeable on and invested in Muggle culture. Is knowledgeable and invested in pureblood culture. I like and trust him." Harry ticked off until he ran out of fingers. "With all of these traits, I believe you have all of the virtues necessary to make proper decisions regarding Hogwarts that is fair and beneficial to all students and teachers. In fact the only way you would make a better substitute is if you were also a former teacher at Hogwarts, but we can't have it all now can we?"

The Tonkses leaned back as they considered these points.

"So you chose me for my balanced views and experience in all sides of the Hogwarts experience?" Tonks clarified.

"All save one, correct." Harry said. "Although that can be remedied, we do have an open position for a part timer of your skills. That is, if you are open to passing on your skills as a horseback rider and college rower?"

Ted was all ears after that. God, but were people ever easy to lead into doing what you want them to do when you understand them.

"Oh, and I like the idea of all three of the men married to the Black sisters having something all our own. Kinda like their wine-fueled get-togethers." Harry added.

"Married?!" Andromeda sad with a mocking gasp as his slip up. "My goodness you work fast! And here I was under the impression that my sister was displeased with how slow you were taking things. When is the ceremony? I'll have to write mother and get her back over here from Aus."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I misspoke. I meant men who date or are married to a black sister." Harry tried to clarify, but the woman had already left her dinner table and was walking to the study.

"Too late! Writing mother and Cissy." Andromeda hollered back.

Harry shrugged and turned to Tonks.

"I'm more than sold. When is the first board meeting?" He asked.

"I'm calling an emergency one right now. Go make yourself presentable, we leave in ten."

---

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[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 34:

The Sword in the Stone​

---

​

Harry walked into the antechamber with his guests trailing behind him. Teddy took the lead with Viktor, Poliakoff and Fleur just behind.

They were the last to arrive, as the heads of every family with a seat on the board of governors was present, plus Albus and Madame Hooch.

He was pleased to realize he'd met most of the people already present in this world as well as his own. Lucius Malfoy, Mrs Zabini, Valentine Crabbe, Hidlerband Goyle and Fleamont Potter he had all met in this world already, and in Madame Bones case at least seen. Augusta Longbottom, Cyrus Greengrass, Mrs Abbot, Mrs Bullstrode, Mrs Parkinson, and of course Mrs Weasley he had also met in his own. The placards in front of everyone else told him who they were. Orion Black barely needed one, being the spitting image of his own son, and the same was true for Theodore Nott senior. The two that gave him pause was a woman whose placard declared her to be Kera Moody, who was too young to be Alastor's mother and too old to be a daughter, leaving only two possibilities and he boggled at the idea of her being his wife, but suspected it was so. The other was Aileen Prince, who also looked too young to be Snape's mother.

He needed to figure that one out later.

There were a lot of empty seats for extinct houses, among them one titled Morrigan. He and his entourage made their way to it.

"Professor Morrigan. Thank you for joining us." Albus greeted. "Seeing as you called for this emergency meeting, I give the floor to you."

"Thank you, Headmaster, but I must refuse." Harry said cheekily. "As I have brought with me the man who shall be my semi-permanent stand in. Representing the Morrigan estate, I present to you all, Theodore Tonks. Your new member of the board."
He bowed and stepped away. Theodore stepped forward and bowed to the gathered to mixed reactions. Everybody at least gave a polite applause, with Molly and Augusta being the most vocal in their approval. The only person who didn't clap was Orion.

Strangely, Lucius looked positively delighted. Harry had been joking when he said the three men dating Blacks being on the board would be ironic, now he suspected it was a stronger base for camaraderie than he suspected.

"As his stand in, Professor Morrigan will be overseeing my conduct here as a form of training, unless anybody here objects?" Theodore said.

Nobody objected. They honestly could, as having a stand in meant he technically wasn't on the board on not entitled to be part of the meetings. Usually, stand-ins were assigned to represent underage successors who were not ready to take on their duties, and there were many meetings where some might object to an underage person attending. They would have to be real assholes to object to his presence. The only scenario he could foresee with him being barred from a meeting was if said meeting was in regards to his imminent sacking, which he hoped never happened.

"Very well. I call this emergency meeting into order." Said Tonks as he sat at the Morrigan chair and spelled the placard to say his name instead. "The topic, emergency employment of part time employees under Madame Hooch."
"And why does Madame Hooch require part time employees?" Asked Augusta. "She has always been excellent about handling her duties as head of sports and games. Are you no longer able to perform them, deer?"

"My usual duties aren't causing me any trouble at all." Said Rolanda. "It is an unexpected skyrocketing in new duties that I am unequipped for. You see, the students have all decided that Hogwarts wasn't offering anywhere near enough club or sport activities. So they have formed over a dozen new ones over night."

Instead of confusion, the room filled with excited chatter from the Purebloods present.

"Have we finally re-instituted the boating clubs?" Asked Valentine.

"Fencing Club?" Asked Lucius.

"Cooking club?!" Asked Molly.

She got some strange looks for that one.

"Yes to all of the above, save for cooking." Said Rolanda. "And more."

Molly deflated and made a face like a kicked puppy, but the excitement of everyone else continued to grow.

"We've all been clamoring for a revitalization of traditional sports for decades, but our Muggleborn populace has only ever been interested in bringing over Muggle sports." Said Orion. "Which has always been too expensive, requiring new construction that would make hideous the gorgeous scenery around Hogwarts. What has changed?"

Albus took over.

"Well, it appears that the students were simply unaware that these sports were options." He said. "Despite our eagerness to revitalize said sports, it never occurred to us to actually advertise it to the student populace. We did not know they wanted it, because they did not know they wanted it."

Ah, the folly of adults. Especially adult wizards. The underestimation of children and simultaneous overestimation of them. In all his time at Hogwarts it had somehow never occurred to him that all of the many suits of armor, boats, and martial weapons were for more than decoration.

"Well, we have the facilities." Said Fleamont. "And we have great teachers in the form of ghosts and portraits. It really is just a matter of having employees on hand with a wand, that you seem to have picked individuals suited to also teach and officiate such sports is a great boon. Or am I wrong in assuming that's why you three are here?"

He said this while looking at Viktor, Fleur and Poliakoff, who all stood a bit straighter.

"Yes zir." Said Fleur. "I am a skilled fencer and duelist, and would be happy to help part time."

"I can handle wrestling, animal riding and most other martial games that Miss Delacour cannot." Said Viktor.

"And I am a chess master. Happy to help with it and all other game clubs to free up Madame Hooch for her sports." Said Poliakoff. "But I will need full moons off. I am a werewolf, if that is a deal breaker."

Everyone made the exact same motion of dismissal with their hands.

"Hardly. We have a werewolf as a teacher, and he doesn't cause any problems." Said Mr Nott.

"I would go one step further and say he is one of the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's we've had in decades." Added Hildebrand. "So your condition is no issue. I think our gobstone champions can go two to three days without a club meeting per month."

"Or somebody can easily cover for you." Said Mrs Zabini.

"Are you sure you aren't just happy to have another Veela in Britain?" Mrs Parkinson jabbed at her.

Mrs Zabini made an exasperated gesture.

"Why does everyone think I'm a Veela?" She demanded.

Fleur perked up.

"You are not Veela?" She asked, seemingly shocked. "I would have sworn you were! I've only met one Africana Veela and you outshine her!"

Mrs Bullstrode, Parkinson, Prince and Weasley all howled with laughter at that admission and Mrs Zabini glowered. Albus had to call for order with his gavel.

"Then we are all in agreement?" Albus asked. "Shall we devote funds to hiring three new staff members as part time club and sports overseers?"

"The Hogwarts treasury can more than handle it." Said Madame Bones. "I say we vote to allocate the funds, get these three their documents for signing, perform their background cheks and put them to work."

Harry tapped Theodore on the shoulder and held up four fingers.

"Four, actually." Said Theodore.

All eyes turned on him.

"Who is the fourth person you have in mind?" Asked Madame Hooch.

Harry leaned down to whisper to his representative only to be interrupted by Albus.

"Professor Morrigan, you are free to speak if you have the answers to our questions." He said.

"Ah, well, I sent out many a letter, and I don't know if he will accept, but I had the former student Cedric Diggory in mind on recommendation." He said. "That way we could have a Hogwarts alumni, and somebody with animal riding experience."
Several people nodded in agreement with his choice in person, while others seemed to consider it.

"Well then, we shall allocate enough funds for four new positions in the event he, or somebody else likewise suitable, opts to take up the role." Said Kara Moody. "Sans any further interruption, I think it is time to call for a vote."
They all waited a moment to see if any such interruption would occur, when none was forthcoming Albus brought the meeting to a close.

"Very well then. I call the board of governors to a vote. Shall we allocate funds to employ four part time game and sport officiators." Albus asked. "All in favor?"

All hands, save those of Molly, Prince and Tonks, raised.

"All against?" Said Albus.

Molly and Prince both raised their hands.

Harry knew Theodore was abstaining from the vote as it was his motion being voted on, so he was not allowed to add his choice to the mix. Conflict of interest and all that. Why Molly and Prince were opposed, he couldn't even begin to guess. Neither had voiced any objections thus far.

"Very well. The motion is passed. If there are no further orders of business…" Albus paused and looked around the room to many shaking heads. "Then today's meeting of the Board of Governors is adjourned. Good evening all."

He used his gavel one last time and everyone stood up.

"Mr Krum, Miss Delacour, Mr Poliakoff. If you would join Madame Hooch and I, we shall induct you forthwith." Albus invited Harry's three guests.

Only a few of the guests left immediately, following Albus and Hooch out the door with the new employees. Most of the rest mingled and chatted.

Harry waved to Molly motioning for her to come over and did the same with Prince. They both nodded and made their way over to him and Theodore.

"It's a pleasure to meet you ladies. As you know, I only recently came into my Lordship, and am at a loss. Hence having a substitute in Theodore here." Harry greeted and introduced.

Both of them curtsied out of respect, and it was a strange feeling seeing Molly perform the gesture.

"I suppose you wish to know why we voted no?" Prince asked.

"Moreso I want your perspective. You were the only two to do so, and I pay attention to outliers." Harry said honestly. "I want to know your reasons because I think they might actually change my mind."

"They won't." Prince told him. "Hence why I did not share. I voted no because I believe students should be spending more time studying than playing sports. A perspective nobody else here agrees with. They already spend enough time obsessed with Quidditch."

Harry blinked at her then turned to Molly.

"Well, on the topic of Quidditch, don't you think Roberta has her hands full enough dealing with injuries from that barbaric game?" Molly asked rhetorically. "Now fencing, boating, horseback riding and wrestling? Oh heavens, even if Poppy was still with us it would be a nightmare. But I know I can't convince all you boys that your rough housing needs to be toned down, so I kept my opinion to myself."

Harry and Theodore shared a look.

"I mean, she's not exactly wrong." Theodore admitted.

And Harry agreed. The DMLE Head who had approached during all of this talk did though.

"I disagree." She said grumpily as she approached. "You are out of line pinning it on the boys, as my love of rough housing and Quidditch playing and broken bones is one I would never deign to deny my niece or her peers. And if you got Augusta over here, she would agree."

"I certainly do." Said Mrs Zabini who, along with Valentine and Hildebrand had approached during all of this. "I want all the boys in Hogwarts beating the tar out of each other on the Quidditch pitch and in the fencing club. Lest they do not become the men we love, but instead coddled and soft, with none of those beautiful scars and callouses that my husband has."

Oh wow, that woman sure knew how to stroke men's ego. And make them feel appreciated as men. He hoped she and Bellatrix never became friends, or his woman might actually gain the skills to tye him around her pinky.

"Well, I'm not trying to start a fight here, I really did just want to know their perspective. As their teacher, my main focus is supposed to be their safety and their education, so I'll put some more effort into making sure injuries are avoided and study groups are maintained at least." Harry said. "And maybe try to inspire a history or potions club too?"

Prince dazzled him with a smile at that suggestion and he knew he said the right thing there. Good. Making friends. That's why he was there.

---

"I somehow always forget that the seasons are flipped down here." Voldemort complained as he shivered from the frigid breeze.

"Are you a wizard or aren't you?" Walburga teased.

"Well, I would cast a warming charm on myself but warming charms always feel better when a lady casts it on you for some reason." He said. "Kinda like how food cooked by somebody else tastes better."

"That or maybe you're pants at cooking?" Walburga suggested. "And also the whole not able to cast spells around here thing?"

That was a distinct possibility. Fortunately the black, rocky ground they were half climbing along was already beginning to warm up from the afternoon sunlight. So it preventing him from casting said warming charms were a moot point. And as they crested the last hill of black granite their goal came into view.

A great Olga, surrounded by black boulders on all sides, sat in the middle of the draw formed by the rocky hills on either side. It wasn't as large as Uluru, or as decorative as Kata Tjuta. Much like Uluru and Kata Tsuja, it had been created by a rainbow serpent as a marking stone above the cave and water system it had dug itself in the rock below. Unlike Uluru and Kata Tsuja, it was still inhabited and was surrounded on all sides by the mysterious cursed stone of Kalkajaka. Which made it a perfect place to hide something from wizards and Muggles alike.

As an active Olga still inhabited by a wild rainbow serpent, the wizarding government of Australia and aboriginal mages protected the entire area from Muggles. As a Kalkajaka it kept all but the most suicidal wizards away.

Nobody knew for certain where the black stones came from, but all enchanters and alchemists knew for sure wizards created them. The leading theory was that it was some kind of equal and opposite enchanting method. By binding two such slabs of granite, they could strengthen a positive enchantment on one by simultaneous casting a dark curse on the other.

It held up in theory, and had been proven through experimentation. Problem was, none of the positive counterparts had ever been found and there was evidence of a wizarding society large enough ever having existed in Australia who could have produced so many billions of these wretched stones in such piles all over the continent. These stones that made all wizards, witches and even squibs feel as if the magic in their veins had turned to wriggling worms and wanted to burst out through their chest. Merely using magic around these things could kill a wizard or witch. It also completely incapacitated any sensory abilities.

And that wasn't even the greatest of the defenses he had places around his Horcrux.

They neared a freshwater stream and he spoke in parseltongue.

"I have returned, great mother." He spoke to the water.

Then, they stood there and patiently waited. And waited. And waited some more. He was about to speak again when the water's surface finally exploded upwards in a deluge of water. Always the melodrama with the bigger snakes.

And she was even bigger than he recalled, and he once again hoped he'd have the chance to introduce her to Salazar's equally large basilisk. Sure, experimental breeding was illegal, but since when did he care about illegality?

Rainbow serpents were effectively giant white-lipped pythons. That was it. Their dark scales iridescent, reflecting a rainbow sheen. There was also the small matter that their scales were elongated, halfway to being feathers. They were still very much magical creatures, however. As their gigantism, like giants, was born of magic and their scales made for excellent wand cores. The core of his spell wand came specifically from her, actually.

There was also the small ability they have to eat stone and regurgitate it into solid masses. Hence how they carve out these tunnels and use the material to form Olga's.

"It has been too long, speaker." She said.

"Indeed, it has." Tom said.

---

The unlikely trio breached the water's surface and they were deposited on cold, hard stone.

"Thank you, beautiful." Tom said to the rainbow serpent between coughs and sputters for the long swim through her watery tunnels.

He hadn't even said it in parseltongue, but she nodded in understanding all the same.

He picked himself up off the floor and helped Walburga do the same. With that done he cast a drying charm on her then himself. Inside of the Olga they were free from the influence of the black stones and thus it was safe to do magic again. And they were now past all of the protections Tom expected anybody to be capable of getting past.

Without the ability to cast the bubble head charm outside from the black stones nobody could manage that swim unless they'd thought to bring gillyweed along. And even if they had gillyweed, they'd have to swim through the underwater tunnels and do so without getting murdered to death by his colorful friend. Still, more protections awaited.

Walburga gasped as her eyes adjusted to the giant underground snake den.

"Is it expanded?" She asked.

"Yes. By a lot." Tom said.

It was a deliberately weak expansion charm too. One designed to collapse if any of the traps are triggered.

Tom had gotten the idea from alchemy, the simplest technique of which is to compress elements into higher elements with spatial expansion charms. Take a small space, like the inside of a jar, and expand it to twice the size. Fill it to the brim with Aluminum then simply collapse the space expanding charm and the two parts of aluminum will combine into roughly one part of iron... with a WHOLE lot of radiation as a byproduct. Most early alchemists simply killed themselves from radiation poisoning with the first experiment doing this, later ones wizened up and stood away from containers used for this job but still died of radiation over time because they had no concept of radiation.

Unfortunately, the technique only worked for elements with a positive proton count, so you can't use it to create copper, silver or gold. That couldstill be done by first creating higher, trans uranium elements and letting them decay to the elements you want, which is a complicated alchemical art requiring decades of experiment and trial and error - usually using time slowing containment wards to examine these elements before they decay. That was time Voldemort simply didn't have. The primary ingredient for the sorcerer's stone is merely whatever element lies in that mysterious island of stability at the end of the possible periodic table.

It makes sense if you think about the symbology, and thus, magical applications for such a material.

It did confuse the crap out of Muggle archeologists whenever they found ancients cities or towns of people fallen dead in the streets with more background radiation than Chernobyl though. That could happen when a particularly zealous alchemist tried to transmute literal metric tons of lead into similarly large quantities of element one hundred and sixty-four. Big risk to the statute of secrecy that wizard archeologists work tirelessly to find before Muggle ones do. Such sites are then, sadly, destroyed.
The space expanding wards within this Olga were not strong enough to cause transmutation of elements, but it was designed to collapse under certain circumstances. Pop quiz! What happens to the human body when the air pressure of the closed space they're in suddenly multiplies one hundred-fold? That image in your mind right now? That's about right.

"That looks a little vulnerable, just out in the open like that." Walburga commented, pointing to the center of the wide-open space.

Tom looked to where she pointed and, sure enough, his horcrux was exactly where he had left it. Embedded into a singular black stone, imported from its many siblings outside, was the sword of Godric Gryffindor.

"That's by design. Mind your step." Tom instructed her "On second though, remain here with our lovely friend."

Tom patted the rainbow serpent before walking towards the center of the room.

He reached the edge of where the traps began and, with a wave of his wand, blew away all of the dust covering each tile. With another wave of his wand he shot a lumos orb to the ceiling illuminating the entire room. Makes it much easier to read.
"so it's password protected, but with stone tiles?" Walburga asked. "Does each one have to be activated in a passcode?"

"Right in one Walburga!" Tom said with a smirk in her direction.

"Are they double encoded to be activated by charms and curses cast on them?" Walburga asked further.

Damn. That was actually a good idea. He could have programmed them for really obscure spells too.

"Nope, just with a bit of dexterity." Tom told her before turning back around and looking for the correct letter. "Let's see here.. I!"

He spotted the ninth letter of the alphabet and hopped on over. He heard Walburga groaned from behind him.

"Next is E!" Tom said as he leapt to the next later.

"Really Tom?!" Walburga demanded.

"S! And yup. Really!" Tom concluded as he made his third leap.

"Indianna Jones?! Are you a child?!" Walburga yelled after him.

"Only at heart, love. E!" Tom told her as he finished. "And another S. What does that spell?!"

Walburga groaned again instead of answering. As she did so every crack around the lettered tiles made a soft glow before turning white. It was now safe to walk on them.

"Didn't have space or mechanical knowhow for the buzzsaws, ditto for the invisible bridge." Tom said cheekily. "It's safe to come over here now, you won't have to watch your step."

She did so, walking over to him with her arms crossed and in quite a fuss. Why must ladies begrudge men their fun?

"How did you design it to be pulled out?" Walburga asked as she stood in front of the legendary artifact. "Passphrase? Fingerprint recognition? Does it need Veela blood since Excalibur was made by them?"

"None of the above, Walburga." Tom told her. "I embedded it into the rock with a banishing charm so hard that the stone melted around it and fused to it. The only way to get it out is to outright carry the sword, rock and all, out of here. Or else somehow shatter the rock."

Walburga actually looked him up and down with an unimpressed expression at his explanation.

"You're not going to take it out of here?" She asked.

"Not today." Tom told her. "Today I just came here to touch it. I ought to be out of commission for a few hours afterwards, so be warned."

"And what? I'm just supposed to stand around here while you do that?" Walburga demanded.

"I brought snacks and a few books in the pack. Help yourself." Tom told her with a shrug. "And you can use magic over there, we can't over here. At least not safely. But I would recommend not using magic at all out of fear of triggering the space expansion charm to collapse."

It was true, so close to the cursed, black stone any spell he cast risked spiraling out of control and triggering the space expansion warn to collapse, killing them both... which would likely destroying the rock containing Gryffindor's sword. In hindsight, he probably just should have sent in a conjured animal and had them do exactly that, then just walked in and picked it up. How had he missed such a blatant hole in is defenses? They really were otherwise perfect.

If anybody had managed to deduce it was there, they would have had to get through the stone hills, swam up to thirty minutes through the underwater tunnels without the bubblehead charm or getting killed by his rainbow serpent friend, deduced that the space expansion charm was designed to collapse, then they could have easily figured out this little oversight. So, his cleverness in putting in a Muggle reference no wizard would understand would have gone unappreciated.

He was still trying to hide his surprise at Walburga having seen it herself. He refused to ask her about it.

"Alright. No time like the present. Please don't slit my throat while I'm unconscious." Tom asked jokingly.

"And be stuck in this death trap with your snake friend? Not a chance." Walburga joked back.

"Oh, and please move my body away from the stone. I don't like the prospect of waking up from a nap next to it." Tom asked further.

"Stop stalling. The sooner you drop the sooner I can leave." She demanded.

Tom shrugged and sat down on the ground just next to the stone. He took a deep breath and concentrated. He remembered the Fabian brothers, who had fought bravely and in doing so brought unto him the Sword of Gryffindor. Their deaths had been tragic enough to warrant splitting even his tattered soul by then. He had regretted killing such brilliant young men even the day of that battle over such an inconsequential safehouse.

With those thoughts firmly in mind, he pressed a single finger against the flat of the silver blade, just below the G. Then, blackness.

---

I think I need to re-edit this chapter and the last one. One to just follow Harry and his emergency meeting, one to just follow Voldemort getting to Godric's sword. Mix and match them into something more coherent.

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[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 35:

Champions, Reunited​

---

Harry must have read the article three times now, and still couldn't make heads or tails of it. Everything about it confused him, from the subject matter, to the events it described, to the writer.

Fenrir Euthanized

By Rita Skeeter

This last Friday, a great battle took place in the Black Forests of Germany. A war between Voldemort and one of his most loyal legions, and thereby annihilated Fenrir Greyback and his entire pack.

Nnearly a hundred bodies were discovered by a Muggle hiker early Saturday morning. After Auroras obliviated said hiker and the Muggle first responders he summoned to the scene, their investigation turned up some strange facts.
The first was that every single corpse belonged to a werewolf in the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The second was that each had been placed under cooling and stasis charms to prevent decay.

The third, and strangest, was the epitaph conjured and carved in the center of the clearing.

It's message was as follows:
​

I would like to offer my sincere apology to wizarding society for failing my friend and servent, Fenrir Greyback. I somehow failed to notice that he and his followers had gone feral from my own neglect as much as society's persecution. I am ashamed it took a stranger starting a refuge for werewolves to make me realize this, especially as improving the lot of werewolves was one of my main goals as a leader, and a promise I had made to Fenrir in particular.

Despite our differences and being ideological enemies, I wholeheartedly promote Professor Morrigan's Werewolf Sanctuary, and advise any and all werewolves who ever considered joining my cause to remain unaffiliated, and to take advantage of the man's charity. You are no longer fit to fight a war, and never were. You are not weapons, you are patients in need of help. Go get some, for I will not wield you any longer.
Signed, Tom Marvolo Riddle(Reprinted as written for accuracy.)​

It appears that even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not extreme enough to continue his association with Fenrir Greyback, and that the many reports of his barbaric and savage tactics are not exaggerated. So extreme were they, in fact, that his own master saw fit to put him down. He was a monster in the end, one who fed on human flesh even while under the effects of a waxing or waning moon. A monster irredeemable, except in death.

Let no more of our brothers and sisters fall to such a fate. New developments and improvements to treating werewolves come out every year, to the point that even many past factions who once promoted permanent quarantine or outright extermination of werewolves as a means of ending the disease, have changed their tune. And now with the launch of a proper sanctuary for those unable to get treatment during the full moon in Scotland, we can only hope more countries follow suit.
​

And that made four readings, yet no understanding came to Harry.

What was Voldemort playing at? Was it some kind of reverse psychology? Was he trying to associate the name of Morrigan with Voldemort and get people who oppose him to withdraw their money? Or perhaps he was hoping to overwhelm Harry through his own charity by inspiring far too many werewolves for him to handle into taking part in it? Trying to defeat him with the same peaceful, and legal, form of warfare Harry had wielded against him seemed like an effective tactic.

More bizarre was Rita Skeeter writing an honest article without any spin or outright lies. Moreso that the average journalist, that was unheard of. He wondered if Voldemort had threatened her to report it accurately under threat of torture or death, and couldn't stop himself from smiling at the prospect despite himself.

Then he caught the dark thoughts and threw them away. Honestly, after having a lovely morning hearing tea and sweets with Dolores, he was allowing himself to feel such cruel things to a woman he had never met? He had promised to throw away all of these preconceived notions based on his own world's counterparts long ago, and yet he still somehow struggled with it. He needed to be better.

There was a tapping on his window and Harry looked up to see an unfamiliar owl perched just outside.

"Oh great. I forgot the joys that came with fame." He grumbled to himself and opened the window.

Only for three owls to come in, the second and third having been perched on the ledge out of sight. He took the letters with a thanks and they flew off. He didn't recognize the names on any of the envelopes, and so he assumed they were either prospective volunteers, patients or haters. He put them aside for later all the same and withdrew an envelope and quill.

Albus,

Please forward all mail directed to me to the security office at the front, as I expect some hate mail in the coming week and the usual dangerous substances that can be shipped.

Signed, Hadrian Morrigan.​

He sealed it and Hedwig hopped over eagerly to accept it. He handed it to her and sent her out. He closed the windows and checked his watch.

It was about that time.

He locked up his classroom and private rooms, erected the sign at the top of the stairs leading to the trapdoor and secret passage saying he wasn't available, and began his long walk to the front entrance.

The younger years were either already in class or rushing them, while the older students usually had their classes starting in the afternoons, so he didn't encounter any of his own students. This saved him from distractions or time wasters that would have made him late.

He followed the path he had taken recently to the open area of rubble at the edge of the forbidden forest and there he found Madame Hooch and all of her new workers waiting for him. Sir Nicholas, The Bloody Baron, many other ghosts he couldn't name and of course his own recruits.

"Thank you for joining us, Professor Morrigan." Madame Hooch said.

He walked up to stand between Fleur and Viktor, who seemed to be giving her a wide breadth out of respect, with Poliakoff off to Viktor's right.

"Are they all caught up?" Asked Harry.

"On the paperwork, yes. But we wanted to wait for everyone to arrive before divvying up the clubs. Am I right in assuming you're willing to take over some of them?" Madame Hooch asked.

Harry shrugged.

"If they're in the mornings on weekdays, sure." He said.

"That leaves only a few, and those are the ones nobody else usually wants. Let's see here." She picked up a long scroll that presumably contained all of the club names.

"Wrestling?" She called out.

"That vould be me." Said Viktor, as the Fat Friar raised his hand.

"Fencing?" She called out.

"Mua." Said Fleur, as the Bloody Baron raised his own hand.

"Hiking club?" She called.

"Oh! That's me!" Harry said.

He was happy his students got their heads out of their asses and recognized the valley of the many trails around Hogwarts. Morning jogs on the trail to Hogsmeade and many similar tracks bordering the forbidden forest are exactly what he needed to get back into shape.

Strangely, the Gray Lady raised her hand to be a part of that.

"I already know Poliakoff is taking Chess, gobstones, poker and the like. Um…" She said as she crossed those off. "Riding and jousting clubs?"

"I'll take it." Came a new voice entering the clearing.

They turned and Harry couldn't stop the smile from coming to his face. Cedric Diggory. Alive, and two years older than he'd ever known him to be. Still looked like a boy, in that way preteen girls seemed to like.

"Can I expect the Headless Hunt to help with those?" He asked.

"Huzzah!" Said the leader of said hunt, whose entourage hooted and hollered behind him.

Cedric managed to meander over to where the four of them stood and stuck his hand out to Harry in particular.

"Pleasure to meet you Professor Morrigan. Your exploits have been entertaining to hear about." Cedric told him as Harry shook his hand. "It came as a bit of a surprise to be called on by you. Who referred me?"

"Same as referred them. Fate and happenstance." Harry said truthfully but cryptically. "Speaking of, allow me to introduce you. This is Fleur Delacour, fencing duelist from France."

"Mademoiselle." Cedric greeted politely, putting a little too much emphasis on the "madame" before "moiselle."

"A pleasure." She said, a little stiffly.

Swing and a miss there Cedric. She likes them a bit more calloused and punk rock. Not shiny and boy band.

"This is Viktor Krum, duelist and Seeker from Bulgaria." Harry introduced the next former champion.

"Former, seeker." Krum corrected, shaking Cedric's hand.

"Seeker? I took you for having more of a beater build?" Cedric said.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Said Viktor. "To answer your next question, the sport just stopped feeling so sportsman out of school. I liked the competitiveness, but it became like an extension of the war on the pitch and I didn't like that. Ironically? Less of that in the dueling pit."

Cedric breathed out a sigh of sympathy.

"Yeah, I hear ya on that. But I still play. There's nothing else I love a tenth as much, certainly not in terms of sport." Cedric said.

Harry could relate. If Quidditch in his time had been ruined nothing else would have really captured him. He'd probably just become a miserable nine to five employee and family man, after all what else would there be? Maybe join the Department of Mysteries.

He shivered in disgust at the unholy company he would have to keep with such work.

But for now, he was reunited with the most competent men and woman he had ever competed with. The champions were reunited. Along with one of the champions friend.

"Oh! And this is Poliakoff." Said Harry, introducing the patient werewolf. "He will be the board game master for us."

"Awesome to meet you man." Cedric said, shaking the last hand present.

"It is good to have you back at Hogwarts, mister Diggory. Shall I finish divvying up the duties." Madame Hooch enquired.

"Yes ma'am." They all said.

"Let's see, broom racing?" She said.

"Me!" Harry, Viktor and Cedric said at once.

"I think I'll take that one, actually. And… What the hell does "Dungeons and Dragons, Shadowrun and other tabletop RPGs" mean?" She said.

Poliakoff hissed.

"That one you might have to deny. They're like board games, but with an enormous time commitment. It's a five-hour endeavor." He said. "And with them being teenagers still in school, they will probably want to meet daily."

"I'll pass the bad news back to the students. Oh! Boating?" She said.

"Me." Viktor and Cedric said.

They looked at each other, as if appreciating the other in a new light.

"Cedric already has two and Viktor has one, so I am giving it to him. Can you handle both that and wrestling mister Krum?" Hooch said.

"Absolutely." Krum affirmed.

"But I only got one myself?" Fleur complained.

"There are actually several fencing clubs." Hooch corrected. "Saber, epee, short sword and long sword."

That seemed to calm Fleur down. So far it looked like she had the most work of them all.

"The last two are Pole-arms and javelins." Hooch called out.

"I'll take pole-arms." Said Krum.

"I'll take the stick throwing." Said Cedric.

"Well, that covers everything. The ghosts already assigned to each club, or who have ran similar ones in the past, will get you up to speed on each." Said madame Hooch. "They all have more experience that any of us ever will. Use it."

"Yes ma'am." They said again.

It was starting to sound like a military installation out here. Madame Hooch had that effect on people.

Harry checked his watch and realized he had plenty of time to get to his class before the early arrivals starting meandering in.

"Hey, I have a class, but this evening if you guys want to join me for some food, let's make that happen." Harry invited.

"I'll be there." Said Cedric.

"I'll need a good meal after my wrestling refresher, so sure." Said Viktor.

"I have absolutely nowhere else to be." Said Poliakoff.

"Zat sounds lovely. I've heard so many good things about British cuisine." Fleur said sweetly.

Oh Fleur, just for that, we'll be eating at the Hog's Head. Aberforth cuisine for everyone.

---

Dumbledore stood at his office window looking down on the school grounds, watching as the new employees, and Morrigan, returned from the forest towards the castle proper.

"Our peaceful warrior pulls through yet again." Said Alastor. "And in a way that makes him smell like sunshine and daisies, while bringing together people that are clearly the titans of the future."

Fleur Delacour, Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory. Each was formidable, either in intelligence or combat skill or both. He didn't personally see the virtue of the Poliakoff, but there must be hidden strength and ability there if Morrigan was roping him in. Great destinies often await the most inconspicuous of men.

"Indeed. It is starting to feel like he is creating an army under my very roof." Said Albus. "An army of peace, one non-participatory in the war. And I find myself envious."

"That may not be his intention." Said Severus. "He may simply be working from knowledge of the future in choosing people he knows are up to the job, or had done the job in his original timeline."

That was also a perfect explanation. If they worked under the assumption that it was a circular time loop, in which Morrigan was makign certain to recreate the timeline as he knew it to be as if following a recipe, then he merely recruited these people because he knew he recruited these people. The reason he became a professor at Hogwarts was because he knew he became a professor at Hogwarts.

The reason Morrigan let him die was because he knew Albus Dumbledore was supposed to die.

"If you feel that envious of him, you can do the obvious thing." Said Alastor.

Albus looked at his lieutenant.

"Let go of the reigns, and leave everything to him. Be a follower for once. It's not a bad thing to be. Takes away a lot of the stress of thinking." Said the Auror.

"Or better yet, leave the war entirely." Said Severus. "Just be a Hogwarts professor again."

Now there was a thought! Spend what little tile he had left actually enjoying the thing in life he worked so hard to get and loved more than all others? Teaching? Could he get away with handing over the role headmaster to Minerva and taking over transfiguration class for the rest of the year, leaving the war to somebody else? Could he quit as Mugwump and Chief Warlock?

That sounded like heaven to him. But he would need at least two more people he could trust to do their job as well as he did. Minerva was a perfect successor as headmistress. Morrigan was proving to be able to handle the war, better than he ever had, but he just couldn't trust the man yet. If he had more time to watch and see he could come to that decision, but not yet. But what about the Ministry and International Confederation of wizards?

Fleamont Potter was the only person who came to mind for Chief Warlock, but getting him into the position would be impossible. He drew a blank on a successor for Supreme Mugwomp. Maybe if he could coax Nicholas to take it on temporarily?

It was high time he put into action his plans to have successors in place upon his death anyways.

"Bring Minerva. It's time I told her that I'm dying and to prepare to take over." Albus told them. "And I need you two to scout potential successors for the positions of Mugwomp or Chief Warlock. Besides Fleamont."

They both bowed and left him there to his ever increasing thoughts.

---

Tom woke up where he had fallen, beside the sword of Gryffindor.

The first thing he felt was an all-consuming thirst and hunger. The second was the cold hard ground beneath him. He was getting to be old to camping on stone floors like this.

"How long was I out?" He asked.

"Two whole days." Walburga answered.

He heard her approach and accepted the water canteen she offered.

"I've been persisting off of the food stuffs you brought with us. Kind of you to think to bring a whole week of provisions." She groused.

He shrugged.

"You never know what kind of trials can completely derail your plans and leave you on the run for a week or more." Tom told her.

He was speaking from experience. Lots of experience.

"Well, a good meal a stretch should set you straight. Then we must be on our way." She said. "Can't apparate from in here, couldn't get you out without drowning you."

Correct on both. Apparating was one was to make the spacial expansion within the chamber to collapse, killing or outright vaporizing anything not made of stone or metal. Which neither of them were.

"Sounds like a plan. What's left?" He asked.

"Plenty of eggs, beans, tea and sausage." She said. "It's all you seemed to have packed.

Were they British enough? Tom felt they could be a bit more British.

"Could have sworn I packed powdered cream, ginger snaps and honey too." He said.

"Hm. Doesn't seem to be any left." She said dryly.

The size of the sweet tooth on her, eh?

They ate the quick meal, which she magiced up in place of cooking on the perfectly good skillet he packed, and they were off. A quick shout to his rianbow serpent friend, a short swim riding on it like a kappa, and a day of hiking took up all of their Monday. When they finally exited the fields of Kalkajaka stones and were able to use magic again, Walburga apparated them back to her cottage.

"I need to lay down." Tom said.

Going for a seven hour hike after a two day coma left him sorer that… well, than a guy who was completely immobile for two days and opted to go on a seven hour hike. The discomfort of side-alonging with Walburba didn't help.

"It seems somebody knows you're here." Walburga said from the kitchen.

Tom looked up to see what she was talking about. Sure enough, there was an owl with a package in its beak. He recognized it as the Malfoy family Owl.

"Hello Swash." He greeted the Eagle Owl. "You look like you've been on quite the flight."

Indeed, to make it all the way from Magical Britain to Australia in just three days? Going on four? Very impressive. He had to wonder if own offices have a way to portkey owls, that's the only way to explain the impressive delivery times. Like many magical industries, their methods were secret.

He got up and stumbled over to the bird.

"What do you have for me?" He asked as he took the package.

It was from Lucius, which boded well. He didn't want to get a letter from young Draco telling him how his father was dead and he was lord now. Or worse, go behind his parents back to try and join as a junior death eater. The physical beating he'd get fro trying such a stunt would be a thing of beauty.

"What is it?" Walburga asked.

"Apparently the Unspeakables need me to authenticate a memory?" He said, confused before rechecking the letter. "Oh! It's a dream vision, and there seems to be parseltongue in it. Yeah, that makes sense. If I confirm the parseltongue that eliminates it being a fake."

It also explained why a ministry worker would go so far out of their way to get in direct contant with the dark lord. Unspeakables will put aside wartime concerns for their research.

"Penseive is by the vanity, love." Walburga told him as she went into the bath.

"Thank you!" He called out.

He walked the short distance into her bedroom, found said penseive that seemed to double as a night light, and dropped the memory in.

---

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[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 36:

Busy Being Busy​

---

Harry started his Tuesday with a morning hike, accompanied as he was by a dozen students and the Gray Lady.

He allowed Helena to lead the hike from the front with Harry at the back, in case he needed to take action on anything. You never know, a particularly grumpy unicorn could come across them and decided to gore one of the poor boys.
The October weather was nice and cool, but not yet freezing, making the hike absolutely perfect. No snow making them lose the trail. No biting winds making their noses, lips and ears fall off. The last surviving moss and bushes were still just a little green.

"Why are we going so slow?" Urquhart complained.

Ah, and nearly everyone who came along was a Quidditch player and/or captain like Urquhart there. Although it didn't seem like he managed to get any of the other Slytherin players to come along. The only Ravenclaw was Cho, whereas half of the Hufflepuff team had come along. Anthony Rickett, Timsin Applebee, and Heidi Macavoy. The only Gryffindors to come along were Colin Creevey, who seemed to be using the opportunity to sharpen his photography skills, and Dean. Harry guessed that the lack of a football club make this the next best outdoors club to join for him.

"Because this is a hiking club, not a jogging club." Said the gray lady. "You are more than free to job around the lake and Quidditch pitch if it pleases you."

That kind of defeated the purpose. The big selling point on the hiking club was the privilege of being allowed to skirt the rules around the forbidden forest. After all, some of these trails did cut through said forest, and with it being so early in the morning that it was as close to stomping around the forbidden forest at night as any of them would ever get. And this was only possible because Harry was there to supervise.

"This is meant to be relaxing and invigoration." Harry told them. "And it is still a great way to get into shape. It builds an endurance of a different kind to jogging. If you want to try jogging these trails in your free time on weekends unsupervised? I would advise against it, but I can't stop you either."

Although, to be fair, Harry had opted for one of the easier trails. One near the mouth of the Black Lake where it opened out to see. The trail and people on it could be seen from all of the Hogwarts grounds and most of the east end of the castle. It was soft dirt, not rocky trail beneath them, with the occasional standing stone from some long-forgotten students arithmancy or warding experiment decorating the hill or slope on either side here or there.
"I'm hoping to get a good photo of the sunrise hitting the trees justright." Said Colin.

"I'm just trying to tire out my legs a bit more." Said Dean.

"That's the spirit!" Harry congratulated. "We'll start on tougher trails tomorrow, wasn't expecting all athletes."

Colin looked at him questioningly.

"You'll become one eventually if you spend every morning with all of us." Harry told him.

---

"Thank you Argus." Harry told the caretaker as he delivered a box of mail marked safe.

"It's what I do." Argus said. "Best part of my job actually."

"Examining potentially dangerous mail?"

"Or confiscated objects. People think because I'm a squib magic is off limits to me. They seem to forget that potions, runes, divination and numerology are just as acceptable to me." He said with a smirk.

Harry remembered how the Filch of his universe told him that he was the one tasked with stripping his Firebolt in search of curses, with only marginal help from Filius. Filius was a master of charms. Argus was a master of reverse engineering enchantments. Comes with the territory of being the main target of all pranks and in charge of examining all objects coming in and out of Hogwarts.

He wasn't joking about Squibs focusing on non-wand based magic either. He was probably better at runes than babbling, but his knowledge of these fields were more applied to curse-identification and joke objects.

"What's the worst you found in the rejected letters?" Harry had to ask as he opened the box.

"One was a powdered love potion tuned to a specific individual, sent anonymously. Probably some wrerewolfesse fangirl. Another was enchanted to shoot small needles filled with blood, likely belonging to a werewolf, into the skin of the person who opened it. Sloppy work." Filch explained. "The message on that one is pretty clear. Love werewolves so much? Here, become one. Not that it would have worked. That or vampire blood. Vampires get uppity about people helping werewolves but not them. Might have pissed one of those off."

Yeah, that would have ruined all of his plans. Problem with trying to help vampires was that they were contagious, and dangerous, at all times. Unlike werewolves, with the obvious upside that they were a bit easier to keep under control, as they had more self-control. But still, hard to help.

"Well, thank you very much for keeping me safe. Let me know if you need help with anything." Harry told the caretaker.

"Can do. If you wanted to start helping me out, you could try living a less interesting life out of the spotlight, but I don't see that happening." Argus groused jokingly as he left.

Harry shook his head bemusedly. Moreso than most, that man was an enigma.

He only had a few minutes before his class for the day so all he managed to do was open the box and organize the letters by date, intent on responding to them in the order he received them. To the best of his ability.

"Welcome miss Granger. Mr Malfoy." Harry greeted the two students as they walked in together.

They bowed and took their seats. Susan came in after them, followed by Lavender and many more. When the bell tolled for class to begin he stood up, vanished his conjured chair, and walked over to the chalk board.

"Today, and for the remainder of term, we will be refreshing and improving on your knowledge of dream and omen interpretation." Harry explained. "Along with the regular mediation. Now. Would anybody here feel comfortable opening up about any interesting dreams they've had this last week?"

---

Harry entered a new routine. His mornings were spent on morning hikes with his club, his classes reached a level of repetitiveness that they required much less work than usual, and now his afternoons were mostly spent reading and responding to letters.

As he expected, most of the letters were requests to attend his sanctuary during the upcoming hunters moon on the twenty sixth. He replied to each and every one with an affirmative. There was room for all!

Most of the remaining letters were of support. If Voldemort's plan was to dirty the name of Hadrian Morrigan, or else overwhelm him with an excess of customers, then he sorely miscalculated. The letters of support, often with offers of funding or volunteering time and labor, were almost as common as the letters asking for help.
The most surprising letter of all came from Dolores.

Dear Hadrian

I am writing to warn you about a potential danger I fear you may not be seeing. You are not the first to try and shelter werewolves, though you are the first to so through private means instead of public.

I have tried to be a part of the latter. On several occasions there have been attempts to form werewolf only communities so that they might quarantine themselves both as a violent threat to society and as a pathological one. I am old enough to remember the days when catching lycanism was still deadly, as the basic nutritional treatment of them was not yet studied well. These efforts were torpedoed by fears of becoming like Muggles.

I am not sure if you took Muggle studies, but extra emphasis is placed on the socialist ideologies of the 21st century. Especially Fascism, Nazism, and Marxism. The latter two of which lead to the wrongful internment and butchering, or worse, of well over 200 million people. Any attempt at creating contained werewolf communities too strongly resembles the evils of Muggle socialists, or offshoots thereof, for wizarding governments to ever approve such plans. You are new to your lordship but even you must know that when Muggles make horrible civic choices, we go in the opposite direction. Hence why all educational institutions and medicine are still privatized despite Muggleborn complaints.

What I am getting at is this:

If your sanctuary continues to succeed, then your success may destroy you. While it has never happened, Muggleborns bang their drums on private industry potentially leading to the same or worse evils of government excess, and should your sanctum continue to expand into an organic werewolf community you can expect accusations of forming a private gulag, or more strangely, a military complex to come at you from the aisle opposed to yours.

So, heed my advice. Do not expand from your 3-day model of sanctuary. Do not expand to providing permanent housing. Do not conglomerate werewolves into their own secondary society like the Jewish Ghettos of socialist Germany. Not only to avoid these accusations, but to help ensure the further socialization and integration of werewolves into society and vice versa which has taken so much work to achieve, to the point they are so close to acceptance it is painful.
You are doing beautiful work. Keep it up.

All of our love, Dolores.
​

Harry put the letter down. There was a lot to soak in there. From realizing he was on a first name basis with Dolores Umbridge of all people, to her confirming that he had properly creating an illusion around himself of being fully on board with the purebloods of society. His work to build that rapport was paying off. Not least of all because he mostly was. But not to the point that his status as "Muggle raised" had been forgotten. People were rightly fearful that he brought along just a few too many ideals and principles of Muggle society that witches and wizards, by virtue of witnesses such ideals and principles as outsiders with long lives and longer memories, could recognize as moronic.

The letter told him that he needed to do a better job of alleviating peoples fears that he might be bringing with him far left ideological principles. He'd made sure not to give any impressions that he might have extreme religious or industrial ideals, by virtue of not being religious or trying to force the adoption of pointless technologies.

The thing that stood out about her letter the most was her warning that people might suspect him of militarizing werewolves as Voldemort had done. An accusation out of recognizing he had the means, even if he had no motive to do so. The suspicion that he might be conspiring to round them up and kill them, on the other hand, was just outright paranoia of those overly concerned for werewolf safety.

Paranoia was sometimes a good thing. The advice she gave was what he was already planning to do, but her reasoning was a whole new beast for him to struggle with.

He was starting to see why she had been placed in charge of trying to route out Dumbledore's supposed uprising. She knew how to think like conniving politicos, especially dishonest ones. The reason she'd failed so miserably at Hogwarts, beyond not being suited to working with children or teenagers at all, was because she had been dealing with honest and well-intentioned people. Not the usual ministry assholes. That and her premise, that Dumbledore was fomenting a rebellion against the Fudge administration and Harry Potter was a deranged maniac, was so far off of reality that she stood no chance of succeeding.

---

And so the week passed, leading to a weekend filled with people vying for his time.

"Hey, Hadrian. Want to join the other club runners and I for lunch this weekend?" Cedric asked him Friday afternoon.

Cutting it a little close there aren't you?

"Sure! Either day works. I'm sure Bellatrix will want to be there, if for no other reason than to glare daggers at Fleur and to have the opportunity to get some practice duels with her and Viktor." Harry said.

And so, he spent his Saturday morning stopping by Tofty's to thank Dolores in person for her interesting perspective. He had a quick cuppa with them and left with a single pastry in hand. Then, he visited Jacob.

"Hello parole officer." Said Jacob, now free of bandages and looking more like himself. "Am I in trouble?"

"Don't know. Let me check." Harry said.

He loosened his grip on Ghillie Dhu and let his senses pervade every orifice of the small apartment above Garricks shop. When he had volunteered to be in charge of the man's house arrest and rehabilitation, the idea of putting him in Garrick's spare room was a no brainer. Not only was it centrally located, his and Garrick's acerbic personalities just meshed.

That and Garrick could kick his ass if he somehow managed to break the wards. Which he had not. Each one was as Harry left it. He was most proud of the one that allowed the person keyed to it, Jacob in this case, to remain tethered to the ward while exiting for five minutes every few hours for bathroom breaks, and for thirty minutes thrice per day for meals and showers. The ward would begin literally rushing his heart if he stayed out longer than that. Slowly at first, to serve as a warning shot.
"I see you got yourself a lot of new books." Harry said, looking down at an encyclopedia of fighter jets on the small coffee table.

"Not much else to do in here except read." Jacob complained, turning a page on some strange novel that had George Washington riding a dinosaur on it. The one with the horn on its head.(AN:1)

He knew you weren't supposed to just a book by its cover, but that was one hell of a cover.

"Well, I wanted to know if you were interested in running security again on the twenty sixth." Harry asked.

"I literally have nothing else to do." Jacob answered.

"I mean. Do you want something else to do?" Harry offered.

Jacob looked at him.

"What do you have in mind?" He asked.

"Want to teach teenagers how to shoot guns and bows?" He offered. "The archery and shooting clubs were rejected, but mostly because we had nobody able or willing to teach them. Can't believe I didn't think of you."

Jacob smiled.

"All teenagers should learn basic gun safety and operation, especially wizarding ones who don't respect Muggle weapons nearly as much as they should." Jacob said. "I'm in. But who will supervise me?"

"Garrick, of course." Harry said.

"Like hell I will!" Garrick called up from downstairs.

"Oh, well, plan b then. I'll take it on as a second club on weekdays." Harry told him.

"When do I start?" He asked.

"Monday." Harry ordered.

---

His third stop, before joining the champions and his girlfriend for lunch, was Weasley Wizard wheezes.

"Hey! Welcome in landlord of ours. Like what we've done to the place?" Fred greeted him as he walked in.

Harry looked around. The place had somehow gotten even more colorful. The hallway and stairs were so very yellow. When harry raised an eyebrow at the redhead, he turned a dial near the register. The rugs and wallpaper then turned vibrant blue and purple, respectively.

"I could do with some earth tones during the full moon." Harry said.

He turned the dial again and things wen to their usual browns and tans. Much better.

"So! What brings you here?" Fred asked.

"Wanted to commission some things for Halloween." Harry said. "As a precaution."

"Precaution?" Fred asked.

"Without fail, Halloween brings upon me some kind of disaster or outright attempt on my life. I want to be prepared." Harry explained. "I foresee some shit going down."

"Oh. Well we're a joke shop, what can we possibly make that would help you in that regard?" Fred asked.

"More than you can possibly imagine." Harry told him with a smirk.

---

(AN:1) Not making this up. Can't find it, but I once read a novel in which George Washington regularly rode a Parasaurolophis. That was the cover. Just, north America with dinosaurs.

I just love the idea that wizards and witches, with their longer lifespans, just watch Muggle countries try new things, see it fail spectacular, and just go "Okay. Let's NOT do that." By the time the first Muggleborns to be raised under Hitler's socialist Germany were old enough to take part in wizarding politics, nazi Germany was gone and it's evil laid bare. Same is almost true floor Marxist Russia, if we assume age requirements for running for office in the wizarding world are also raised in proportion to their higher lifespan. Modern corporate business models and globalism? Yeah, fuck that. The sexual revolution, no fault divorce and the trillion-dollar industry surrounding it? Yeah, these people wouldn't be hot on adopting that after 35-70 years of watching it's consequences. And I'm a fan of the sexual revolution part, but people born in the late 19th century sure as hell wouldn't be.


Policies in wizarding society probably take decades to pass, with people living nearly to 200, they're a bit more patient and faster to course correct. There are some old enough to have personally been in private schools before public schools were introduced, to have experienced a private healthcare system back when countries still had them and seen the absolute disasters that public school and healthcare are everywhere they've been tried, with the possible exception of places that had no type of either to begin with.

So yeah. Loooong memories. Slow to change. For better and worse. For better in that they don't adopt disastrous social programs, for worse because they also don't adopt new technologies, business models, and the like. But they do eventually. They're in no rush, they live 200 years. Makes for an interesting society to think about.

Which is kind of the theme of this story, if you haven't figured it out. Wizarding society having seen the lunacy of our world over the last century and a half not taking to kindly to Muggleborns coming in and saying they should imitate our geopolitics and cultural changes. See also, S.P.E.W.

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 37:

An Uncomfortably Quiet Month​

---

"So let me go over this again." Fred said as he looked over the notes he took on what Harry said. "You need one each of devices capable of hearing, vision, smell, taste and touch deprivation?"

"Preferably two of each, actually. One I can use on myself and turn off on a dime, one to effect others." Harry corrected.

In order, he had in mind Mandrakes, basilisks, trolls, trolls and the cruciatus curse. Every Halloween something happened to ruin his life, creatures chief among them, and while he had no intention of going down into the chamber to fight Slytherin's pet, it was still there, and Voldemort still had the power to set it loose at any time. If he decided to do so hoping to drive Harry out, he'd happily kill it again. In fact, he'd been procrastinating going down there because he was almost certain one of the horcruxes was down there.

"Okay, we can whip up some glasses, earrings, nose rings and tongue rings for all of those for personal use. Not sure about how to make your whole body numb." Fred said. "For the others, best I can think of is a flash bang grenade for sight and sound, maybe a stink bomb or pepper spray for smell and taste. Maybe an aerosolized icy hot to make the whole body go numb?"

That was a funny idea. Would also take away sight, smell and taste for a good long while and bring about a whole lot of burning to the corresponding sensory organs.

"Make that but a flash grenade and I'll take ten." Said Harry.


"Oh, we got another commission?" Katie asked, entering the front lobby. "And from the big boss?"

"Another? You're working on a commission? And I'm not your boss. Just your landlord. Treat me like anybody else." Harry commanded.

They both scoffed at the idea of treating him like anybody else.

"Yeah. Working overtime to make it work. Tricky pit of charms and transfiguration work. Here, let me show you." Katie said.

She led him into the room behind the counter, where the guests during a full moon would sit around and wait, and there in the center was a mannequin. Every inch of it was the kilt of a knife embedded deep into its wood. It looked like a gruesome kitchen knife set holder.

"That's a bit macabre." Harry criticized.

"The goal is to make the entire surface deform into little pocket spaces, like a mokeskin pouch, so the knives can be buried into it without actually stabbing the think underneath." She said. "It's kind of working."

Harry could see the use in that. Especially if she made the little pockets that take in the knives spurt blood, real or fake, when stabbed. With it being a Halloween commission, he was certain she would.

"Getting the cloth to deform and create such pockets no matter where it's stabbed from does sound tricky." Harry consoled. "I'd recommend weaving it from separate materials that deform to spacial expansions differently. Wool for linear deformations, Kevlar to resist deformation entirely and prevent cutting through, nylon for concave deformations and maybe coat it all with rubber or something for convex deformations. Charm them all separately then weave them together."

Katie looked at him.

"Are you also somehow a charms and enchantment master, because that's brilliant!" She declared.

He shrugged.

"I just like tinkering, you know?" He said defensively. "And I know my materials, is all. Former wandcrafting apprentice, remember?"

---

Harry arrived at the Hog's head to find everybody else already there. Poliakoff, Cedric and Viktor were boxed inside of a book by Fleur and Bellatrix on either side, leaving one available seat for him next to Bella. Clearly, she wanted him to sit as far away from the Veela as possible.

"Welcome love. Thank you for not keeping us waiting too long, I know you have a bad habit of doing that." Bella greeted him with a peck on the cheek as he say down beside her.
Did he have a habit of being tardy? He didn't think so. In fact, he was fairly certain he wasn't he was timely more times than not. What was she on about?

"So, food." Cedric said. "And drink."

"It's a bit early for that, is it not?" Asked Fleur.

"Hey, five PM was eighteen hours ago." Said Harry jokingly.

They ordered a platter of deep-fried appetizers. Chips, crisps, onion rings and chicken sticks came served with enough dipping sauces to hold them all over until dinner. Really, Abe needed to stop serving American sized portions. He liked living in a country of people with healthy waistlines.

"So, how has the first week of club activities gone?" Harry asked.

"Great. Only a few bruises from the wrestling club, and a few dropouts from people uncomfortable with having other people's crotches in their face." Viktor said. "Understandable, it's not for everybody."

"I had far more injuries." Said fleur. "Nothing severe, just cuts that are quickly bandaged. Most of my members didn't even bother going to the hospital wing to have them properly healed."

Harry wondered for a moment why she didn't mend such simple injuries herself, knowing full well she had the ability. Then he remembered the documents he signed at the beginning of term swearing to not do any healing magic on students, except in life or death situations, and to leave it to the mediwitch on staff. Insurance reasons and all that.

"Mine was spectacular." Said Cedric. "Not a single fall or tumble, though I lost a few who didn't feel comfortable riding thestrals that they couldn't see. Best steeds we have since we didn't register the club beforehand and request proper horses."

Harry shook his head. Thestral riding was a joy. Those kids were missing out.

"Any problems with the boating or jousting clubs?" Poliakoff asked.

"Nope." Cedric and Viktor said at once.

"Well, we haven't started on the jousting yet." Said Cedric. "Gotta ride before you can joust. So both are essentially one club at the moment."

"Is nobody going to ask Poliakoff or me if we've had any injuries in our clubs?" Harry asked.

"What? Did anybody sprain their ankles? Get a splinter from a checkers piece?" Fleur teased.

"Yes. Several." Harry said.

"Same." Said Poliakoff. "Poor mister Weasley may need to have his thumb amputated for it."

If "poor mister Weasley" had made that joke, Harry would have been concerned. Hell, he was concerned that Ron hadn't come to him for extra tutoring on exploring his newfound abilities. He expected him to have done so by now. If his friend waited much longer he may have to write Molly into giving him a tongue lashing for not pursuing such a talent.

"Well, all things considered, this may be the best part time job I ever had." Said Cedric. "It's a good break from Quidditch practice."

"And from dueling." Said Viktor, to which Fleur nodded.

"I expect it'll get less busy as people drop out for the holidays, then get busy again in the new years when nothing else is going on." Harry advised.

"Speaking of holidays!" Said Cedric, withdrawing some pamphlets. "Halloween!"

Right. That holiday. That horrid, ill-omened, holiday.

Harry took one of the pamphlets and raised his eyebrows in appreciation of it. It detailed the riding clubs plan to put on a rendition of Sleepy Hollow with a headless thestral rider for the event, to be performed at the jousting stands near the east end of the Black Lake on the Monday before. Harry already liked it.

"And what will your clubs be doing for Halloween?" Cedric asked.

They all gave him the same deadpan look. Clearly, none of them had thought to have their clubs prepare special events for the occasion. And now Harry was thinking about what Christmas activities they might have.

"I guess that's what we'll be talking to them about for the next week." Said Harry. "Best my club could do is decorate the trails, maybe prepare a hayride type event with all the spooking and scaring it entails."

"And of course, you'll be inviting your girlfriend along for both it and the headless horseman.

"I got nothing for the boating or wrestling clubs." Said Viktor. "I'm sure they'll come up with something. The boat house at night could be made into something, I'm sure."

"I'll have to ask too." Said Fleur.

"My members will probably just make all of the carnival games. Bobbing for apples, pumpkin carving contests, that sort of thing." Poliakoff said. "But who knows? They may surprise us."

And so, Harry had even more work to do.

---

The shooting club got approved surprisingly quickly. To the point that the first Monday after getting Jacob on board for it had him supervised his bitch. He was fresh from his morning hike and yawning compensatorially.(AN:1) Their group was made to gather in a large sub-chamber of the dungeons, one with thick enough walls so as to not scare the whole castle with the sound of gunshots.

He was fairly certain the area was once used as the Slytherin dueling pit, as there were chambers identical to it near the Hufflepuff common room, Gryffindor common room and Ravenclaw common room. That and the Slytherin common room was a thirty second walk from its doors.

"Alright kids, pay attention." Jacob said to the contingency of mostly Gryfffindors and Hufflepuffs. "The first rule of firearm safety to treat all weapons as if they are loaded. It is equivalent to treating your wand like it might the killing curse by itself on accident, a good perspective to have for some wands. The second is to never point a weapon at another person unless you intend to kill them. The third is to keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire."

A few students actually took notes along with his words.

"And if I catch a single one of you breaking these rules, you can expect a detention of writing them over and over again until they sink into your bones. Compliments of Professor Morrigan, of course." Jacob warned.

Harry nodded and even more students began taking notes.

"Now. Let me introduce you to the different types of firearms. Not guns, firearms. Do not call them guns in my presence." Jacob continued.

He removed the tarp covering the long table to reveal a whole host of guns, er, firearms. Every variety Harry had ever seen and a few he hadn't. For a moment, Harry wondered where Jacob had gotten them, before a quick once over with his expanded senses showed them to be conjurations. That was damned good conjuration work, rivaling Marchbanks' conjuring of a model T back when he retook is practical newt exams. They were fully functional conjurations, save for the gunpowder which was real and Harry had paid for out of pocket.

"There are pistols, rifles, submachine guns, shotguns which are also known as trench guns." He explained. "They can be further subdivided into revolvers, break action, semi auto, bolt action and so forth, but only those of you who actually fall in love with firearms will care to learn them all."

He went to the leftmost area, where a host of pistols of different makes and models sat.

"All of these are loaded with rubber bullets, on account of I don't trust British children with live rounds. But when they fire they are just as loud as firing real bullets, and almost as painful." He warned. "As such, I had Professor Sprout provide us with hearing and eye protection. Which is the fourth rule of firearm safety, protect your eyes and ears."

All of the students wrote that down.

"Collect a pair of protective glasses and earmuffs, and we can begin. We will start with the nine millimeter."

And so they spent the rest of their morning learning how to properly hold, carry, and fire pistols. Jacob had to transfigure his other conjurations into identical Steyr M1912s. Those kids riddled those dummies at the other end of the dungeon with rubber bullets, which then vanished when their conjured forms were too damaged to maintain their shapes.

Harry appreciated the ear protection with how much the stone walls echoed, before opting to just muffle the walls with an anti-echo charm. He kept the earmuffs on anyways.

Their aim and grouping were excellent. Came with the territory of having to aim with wands whenever you cast a spell. Said aim translated nicely to gun, er, firearm aim. And later that week, he learned it also translated to aiming with a bow.

---

The next two weeks flew by in a blur. Both were as quiet as weeks ever were at Hogwarts. By the twenty fifth all of his club members under Jacob knew how to fire rifles in the form of Henry Lever Action Octagon Frontiers, shotguns in the form Mossberg 500 SPCs, and sub machine guns in the form of the Tec 9. Harry didn't know why he chose those out of every type of rifle, shotgun and submachine gun, but he suspected they might have simply been the simplest to conjure, having the least number of parts.(AN:2)

With the last Wednesday and Friday leftover to teach them, he also had them practice with revolvers in the form of the Nagant M1895 and, most concerning of all, gave them M79s.
"Don't worry!" Jacob assured him. "They're dummy grenades, not even rubber."

That wasn't exactly Harry's concern in teaching children how to use grenade launchers, but he did recognize that was the only field of firearms he hadn't taught them yet, save for heavy artillery, which wasn't going to happen. Either way, the M79's were the students favorite, save for maybe the Tec-9s.

"Well, you've all learned the basics of every type of firearm, starting next week we can start competitive shooting. We will stick with pistols, rifles and shotguns for Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Seeing as Tuesdays and Thursdays are for archery."

The groans and complaints from the students at this let down was legendary.

"Fan we just drop the archery and do firearms all week, every week?" Complained Seamus. "Or at least have one day for the grenade launchers?"

Damnit Seamus! Why did you have to be such an Irish stereotype?

"Go take it up with your heads of houses, if you guys all want to drop the archery club and go with five different types of firearms every week, I'll happily comply." Jacob told them.
Harry groaned and knew they would do just that. As if Dumbledore wasn't suspicious enough of him, now he was essentially having any student who wanted to become a fully trained Muggle soldier! He was expecting it to just be a rifle sharpshooting club, maybe shooting bird plates with shotguns. Not all this!

But he had to admit, he was having fun shooting with the American too.

---

Friday night saw him sitting down on one of his office balconies looking out over the school grounds.

While the shooting club opted not to do anything for Halloween, his hiking club decided to decorate all of their trials with jack-o-lanterns. Lit from the inside by ever-burning candles. Safety candles, of course, no chance of causing a forest fire.

At night he could look out and see them glinting on the hill and mountainsides and flickering orange stars.

There was a chime from the wall holding the secret passage for the staircase entrance.

"Come in!" Harry called out, re-entering his classroom.

In strolled Sinestra, Hagrid and Remus. He wasn't expecting to see them today.

"Uh oh. Has something happened?" Harry asked.

"Course no'! Just felt like spendin some time with our loner." Hagrid said.

Harry scoffed. He wasn't avoiding anybody, he just spent so much time teaching, managing clubs and doing the homework study hall that he'd been neglecting his relationship with his fellow teachers. He really ought to focus on fixing that.

"I also wanted to thank you for the lovely work you've done on the trails." Sinestra said, taking a seat on his desk. "It made for excellent night hiking, it is quite nice."

"Aye. Scared some of the centaur children though." Said Hagrid.

Harry looked between them.


"Do you guys usually go out for night hikes together?" He asked.
"Indeed." Said Sinestra. "My classes are at night, and while I strive to be present for meals, I sleep between them. Night time is when I come to life."

He supposed that made sense. And it was unsafe to go out on the grounds at night, which was the only time she could do so. She wasn't exactly a fighter, so having a gentlemanly half giant as a personal guard was appropriate.

"So. Full moon Saturday. The second ever for your sanctuary. Do you feel better prepared?" Remus asked.

Harry thought on that.

"Less actually. I have four times as many werewolves wanting to come and almost as many new volunteers and prospective beneficiaries that want to come see how things are done." Harry said. "I expect it will be much busier than the first."

Remus hummed.

"Have you even been able to vet the prospective volunteers?" Remus asked.

"Didn't have the time." Harry said. "But I do need the extra hands. I plan to have you other volunteers vet them over the next two days, allow in the ones you approve of."
"That's probably the most you can do." Said Remus. "Perhaps the students who volunteer to take the extra credits again can be put to more tasks this weekend?"

"Maybe. I would have to check and see if they legally can." Harry told him.

"I see, I see… And are you allowed to tell us what you think is going to happen on Halloween?" Remus said.

Ah. So that was the reason behind this meeting. Word of his commission and reasons for such omissions got back to Dumbledore and the others and now they were paranoid. It made sense, he knew Fred was still in the order.

"I'll probably get attacked by some creature or have a nasty accident." Harry said honestly. "Happens almost every year. I think it's a curse."

They all looked at him suspiciously.

"Would you please elaborate?" Sinestra coaxed.

Harry listed them off on his fingers.

"Parents were murdered on a Halloween. I came face to face with a troll on another Halloween. I came across a dead cat and got blamed for its killing another Halloween. Had an escaped convict break into my bedroom on another Halloween. Got pranked by somebody tricking a magical artifact into taking my name into a binding contract that fucked up my life for a whole year on yet another Halloween… would you like to have more elaboration?" Harry asked.

They all raised their hands defensively and shook their heads in the negative.

"So it really is just personal paranoia on your part? Not a prediction of anything major happening on that day?" Sinestra confirmed.

"That is correct." Harry said.

"You've had Albus twisting himself into knots these past two weeks. Between training so many students with firearms and your ominous request to the Weasleys, he seems to think World War Three is going to break out on the thirty first and you're preparing for it." Remus told him. "But didn't see fit to tell the rest of us about whatever divination lead you to the conclusion."

Now Harry was feeling really defensive.

"What! But... I... It was the students who wanted the shooting club, not me! I just wanted the hiking club." He groused.

"Yeah, but looks a lot like yer training an army." Said Hagrid.

"Well, I'm not. Those kids, as they are, would make shite soldiers." Said Harry. "No, whatever fighting is to come should be shouldered by us adults. I want to keep the students away from any fighting, and I'm hoping to end this war before they become the adults shouldering said responsibility."

He realized he might have said too much there, but they all nodded in understanding and seemed pleased with his explanation.

"So, why were you three sent here to interrogate me on this in particular?" He asked.

"Oh, we weren't." Said Sinestra. "I came here hoping to offer to take over the hiking club, seing as I go to bed just after it usually ends. Remus and Ruby wanted to offer their help again for your sanctuary. But they couldn't contain their curiosity over Albus' concerns."

Harry turned on Hagrid.

"You want to volunteer?" He asked.

"Aye. I'm surprised you haven't tried to recruit me yet, what, with me being a half-giant and immune to the werewolf curse." Hagrid said.

Presuming one could bite through the man's thick hide anyways. Yeah, he was worth at least five volunteers on his lonesome.

"Well, you're definitely hired. I figured you'd be too busy as a teacher and groundskeeper." Harry said.

Hagrid waved the concern away.

"The roles overlap. I tend to get the latter done while doing the former. Got plenty o time to give." Hagrid assured him.

---

(AN:1) Hey! It's a real word now.

(AN:2) I literally selected them all based on their difficulty level in World of Guns Disassembly(Great game, by the way. Highly recommend.) These were all the very easy ones of different categories. And I'm sorry for the chapter devolving into gun porn, I AM an American, you know?

I kind of let an entire weekend of socializing go to waste in this chapter, between the two weeks, and left out a Sunday. Would have been great opportunities to have more interactions with the older folks of the Harry Potter universe.

---

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Chapter 38:

A Crowded Sanctuary Part 1
​

---

Poliakoff, Jacob and Remus joined Harry on his long hike to Hogsmeade that Saturday morning. Several students of the hiking club tried to join them, thinking it was a club activity, but Harry shooed them away, reminding them that tonight was a full moon.

They had a quiet stroll later that, appreciating the decorations along the way. They arrived at the Shrieking shack to find people already lined up from the front gate all the way to Hogsmeade.

"Um." Harry said eloquently at the sight of so many ragged werewolves lined up.

The mob bore down on them immediately with an orchestra of gratuitous greetings. Harry recognized some of them as speaking German, others as French, and many more as Slavic languages he couldn't place. Clearly word of his exploits had expanded to all of Europe and beyond. By the looks of the backpacks with bedrolls and put away tents, many had camped out the night before.

"People. People!" Harry called out. "The sanctuary doesn't start taking people in until noon. It's only six in the morning. I can't let you in yet. We have prep work to do."

A lot of prep work to do. Seriously, he hadn't received this many letters, let alone written this many responses. Some of the bilingual men and women present passed the word on for the non-English speaking audience while he struggled to wade his way through the crowd and to the front gate.


"Remus? Poliakoff? Can you run interference for me out here?" Harry pleaded.

"Of course, Hadrian. Next time we might try to floo or apparate in." Remus told him.

Harry agreed internally, but marched through the little wooden, warded, gate and along the path to the front door while Jacob took a position guarding said door. All of the exterior decorations for Weasley Wizard Wheezes had already been changed back to the calm blue of the Sanctuary, but when Harry entered it was to find the interior the bright, garish colors of the joke shop.

Fred was at the counter organizing and packing up all of the registers, receipts and financial documents from the month.

"Hey landlord. The others are having breakfast then we plan to pack everything up for our monthly vacation." Fred said.

"Need any help packing?" Harry offerred.

"Nah! It really is just a matter of banishing all of our crap off of the shelves and tapping them to change them into bunk beds." Fred said. "Oh and turning this here dial."

Fred turned said dial on the counter and all of the bright oranges, purples, yellows and blues returned to the calm earth tones Harry preferred for his sanctuary.

Then, the floo comes to life and the volunteers pour in.

Both Carrows were accompanied by Andromeda and Narcissa, who stood in front of them protectively just in case there were any threats to their lives.

"You are the first to arrive, don't worry." Said Harry. "But you may want to take a peek out of the front door."

Narcissa and Andromeda gave him that trademarked, elegant expression of raising a single eyebrow while Amycus took him up on his offer. He walked to the front door, opened it, and whistled at the sight of the crowd of people just beyond the property border.

"Do we have enough volunteers?" He asked.

"No!" Jacob yelled from outside. "Nowhere near enough!"

Harry shrugged but nodded in agreement.

"But we have plenty of offers from potential benefactors and volunteers who will be coming around this morning, hopefully we can clear enough in time." Harry told them.

Then, the floo came to life again, and in walked Hagrid. He was followed soon after by a minuscule and ancient man with a kindly face and beetle-like eyes. The resemblance was uncanny, and Harry could only stare.

"Professor Morrigan, allow me to introduce ye to me pa. Ian Hagrid." Hagrid introduced.

Harry shook the centennials hand with great care, hoping he wasn't gaping too hard at the absolute madman he knew so much about. It wasn't every day you met a man crazy enough to use an engorging potion in order to wrestle with real giants, nor somebody who actually married one of the most dangerous members of said race. This was the guy who, once upon a time, regularly went fisticuffs with tribal leaders of wild giants for fun! Winning their respect and developing the most pedantic and thorough treatise on Giant culture in history.

Harry was terrified of him on reputation alone.

"A pleasure to meet you at last. Seems everybody I know has nothing else to talk about, save for you." Mr Hagrid told him.

"Thank you, sir. Will you be joining us today to interview for the role of volunteer?" Harry asked.

"Quite. And you can skip the background check. I already had it done." Ian said, withdrawing a manilla envelope from a satchel hanging from his shoulder.

Harry took it and put it under his arm.

"Well, I think I'll be having guests wait outside on the lawn while we all do our preparations in here, if that is okay with you sir." Harry said.

"But of course." Ian said, walking out of the front door with far more pep in his step than a man his age should have.

For a third time the floo came to life, and this time it remained live for several minutes as a long string of people came through. Fleamont was first among them, followed closely by his grandmother and parents. Then came Valentine Crabbe and Hildebrand Goyle, followed by Lucius and Garrick Ollivander with Mrs Zabini.

Then came a string of people Harry had never seen before in his entire life, save a few members of the Board of Governors like Orion Black and Augusta Longbottom. All of them were as ancient as those two or more so. He didn't even have time to greet them or shake any of their hands before the next people to come through pushed them aside. Tofty's sisterhood of tea drinkers poured in and filled out the room more with their personality than they did their bodies, or the large sacks they carried. They were all here. Tofty, both Mrs Marchbanks, as in Alastors mother and wife, Mafalda Hopkirk, Felicity and Hana.

"We brought a good work ethic and pastries!" Tofty said in a sing-song voice.

"Whole grain?" Harry asked, taking a bag and looking inside.

"But of course!" Said Hopkirk. "Dolores was kind enough to remind us."

Umbridge bowed slightly and presented a large, lidded, pot.

"I also made a honey, olive oil dip. Help add some calories and that healthy, Mediterranean fats. For approval from your mediwitches of course." She offered.

"I approve." Said Andromeda from where she stood.

By now, George, Katie, Alicia, Angelina and Lee had joined them in the entrance hall and it was thus very much full. Too full. He was certain that they were exceeding the fire safety limit by now.

"Okay! Everybody who is not already an approved volunteer or benefactor, please exit through the front door and onto the lawn. I will be out to interview you all momentarily." Harry said.

There were a few chuckles, but they all complied.

Then the floo came to life again.

"Oh, come on! Who else could be approved by now?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"Um, the floo is still keyed to our shop." Said Fred. "Will be until noon. Remember?"

Oh right! That means anybody can still come through. And so, they did. Faces he didn't recognize, and ones he did.

Mrs Marchbanks the younger, as in Alastors wife, came in flanked by Madame Hooch and...

"Mrs Shunpike?" Harry asked, confused.

"What?! I have a social life outside of work!" She told him. "Be thankful I'm spending what little free time I had today helping you out."

He didn't see where her job left her with any free time at all to socialize, let alone volunteer. He didn't exactly want a head of the department of mysteries hanging around, but there was no chance of her not passing all examination. She was certainly powerful, and useful to have around. But he repeated his instructions to go through the front door and wait.

Then came Mrand Mrs Weasley. He'd honestly expected them to show up sooner.

"A pleasure to meet you Professor." Arthur greeted with a firm handshake, which he accepted. "Here to offer any help I can."

"It's much appreciated. Would you and your wife please wait outside until we can interview you?" Harry asked.

They obeyed and left. The last person to arrive from this round was somebody he didn't immediately recognize in clean witches robes, but still smelled like he remembered.

"Mrs Figg. Welcome." Harry said to Arianna's mother.

"Thank you. I was going to come through the front gate, but I saw how many people there were and realized you may not have the space for them all. So I went home and gathered something special." She said.

She presented a large duffel bag full of… tents?

"They're expanded on the inside and quite luxurious. Each can house up to ten people comfortably. Several of them are brick houses on the inside, more than capable of holding a werewolf." She explained.

Harry was distracted by Dolores shaking her head behind the cat-lady. He didn't catch onto why the tents could possibly be a bad idea until she mouthed the words "Muggle hobo tent cities".

Oh! She was right! Putting the werewolf guests in tents, even ones that were effectively stone mansions on the inside, would make for terrible optics. Any and all reporters seeing it would write extensively how he was providing an unsanitary and poorly kept homeless encampment. It was good to have somebody on board able to politic like that.

"Thank you, but I must refuse. It is not up to our standards to house our guests in tents, no matter how nice or sturdy they are." Harry refused. "But if you wouldn't mind waiting outside, I'll be right with you."

She left and Harry breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I'm still not sure if that's enough people, but it's a good start." Harry told the gathered. "The bigger problem is the space available. I wasn't expecting this much volume."

"Do you think we'll have to turn some away?" Asked Lily.

"If so, we have to resort to opening up our own homes for them." Said Sirius.

Harry somehow missed the Marauders and company arriving. Mostly because of how quiet they had been.

"I'm sure my cellar can house a good fifty." Said Lucius.

"You mean our wine cellar?" Narcissa asked him. "Shall I come home to find the devastation of you hosting a werewolf frat party?"

"There are worse ways to spend a Saturday evening." Said Lucius, with a shrug.

Ah! Pureblood humor. Rich, pureblood humor. Nothing quite like it.

"Needless to say, the tents really aren't an option." Said Fleamont. "If we are to house people it shall be in a house. Of wood, stone, brick and mortar."

Harry nodded.

"If I had known there would be this many people I would have commissioned an extension to the sleeping quarters." Harry lamented. "But there isn't enough time to hire out a company and get it done in time."

"That's where you would be wrong, my dear Hadrian." Said Hildebrand. "While I did promise my workers the weekend off, I have them on standby. I'll go get them now."

Harry tried to sputter a response.

"But… Getting the project approved and the building licenses!" He said.

"Took care of it last night." Said Lucius, pulling out a stack of completed forms from an exp[anded breast pocket. "I saw the campers from your front door to the east coast of China and knew it would be necessary."

Harry glowered at the man as Grandpa Goyle vanished in a plume of green flames.

"Which leaves us time to get onto interviewing." Said Mrs Zabini. "Will the Wheezes be applying to volunteer?"

Fred, George and company all stood at attention and marched through the front door. Only then did Harry realize none of them had packed.

"We'll take care of everything in here, dear." Said Alecto, sweetly.

Harry sighed and accepted that he wasn't in charge of things anymore and followed the board of benefactors outside.

They conjured up a long table to the side of the front door and took their seats, leaving Harry to stand. He wasn't actually doing the interviewing or approving, but he would guide them inside and get them started. And so, he stood next to Garrick at the end of the table closest to the door as Lucius, Valentine, Mrs Zabini and Fleamont called people forward.

"Alright, whoever is here to volunteer, come up to the table one at a time, unless you are here as a pair or group." Fleamont called out.

A pair of older gentlemen wearing rather dapper hats were the first to approach. When they removed their heado rnaments, Harry felt his jaw drop. So did the jaws of most of the people at the table.

"Newt Scamander and Damocles Belby, reporting for duty." Newt said, speaking for the two of them.

"You are hired." Garrick, the only person who seemed completely nonplussed by the men's presence, said instantly. "Professor Morrigan will lead you inside."

Harry dazedly led the men through the front door to find the entrance hall empty and the noises of the barracks being prepared coming from the next room over. There, they could have a smidgeon of privacy.

"Professor?" Belby called out questioningly. "I came all this way specifically to meet and speak with you, and yet you seem as hermetic as people say."

"Oh! I'm sorry. I'm just a little shellshocked is all. And I don't actually avoid people, I've just been very busy these last couple weeks." Harry said, offering a handshake to both men, which they took.

"So, the elder purebloods have complained." Said Belby. "Constantly."

"I've been out in the field all year, so I haven't been a social butterfly myself." Said Newt. "But I think you'll find what my friend Damocles has to talk with you about far more interesting."

Harry turned his attention to the potions master.

"Doesn't anybody ever come here without ulterior motives?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"You will find that people without ulterior motives are a rarity in pureblood society, young lord, and you would do well to remember that as you grow into your title." Said Belby. "But such ulterior motives are often in your favor, not theirs. Mine is such. I have prepared a large stock of wolfsbane potion in preparation for today, more than enough for your unexpected windfall in customers."

Harry felt himself sigh in relief. He hadn't wanted to voice that concern aloud, not least of all because he knew everyone else was thinking it. Yeah, they definitely needed more of that stuff tonight.

Damocles then gave Newt a look and the beast master nodded, continuing on into the next room to give them some privacy.

"Holy shit! Is that Newt Scamander?" He heard Romulus call out from the other room.

This was followed by the sound of somebody smacking him on the back of his head. Presumably Lily, by the sound of her angrily hissing "Language!"

Harry shook his head. He hadn't realized the young Lupin had arrived. He hadn't been there with the Marauders earlier.

"What's so sensitive that you feel the need to speak in private?" Harry asked.

"An offer of a land sale." Said Belby.

"You… Want to buy the sanctuary?" Harry asked.

It made sense that the inventor of the wolfsbane potion would be interested in purchasing a nonprofit dedicated to helping werewolves. It would free up a lot of time for Harry to pursue new adventures, not to mention give him the finances to do so.

"You misunderstand. I am here to sell you, my land." Said Belby. "One on which there is a farm. A farm dedicated to growing giant moonwart, aconite and myrrh trees."

Harry could have smacked himself. Here he was, two months into searching for a plot of land to develop into just such a farm, when the more obvious solution of simply buying such a farm that was already developed never crossed his mind. The time, labor and investment of growing his own crops from scratch instead of buying a business that already did so was astronomical. How many people wasted such time and money developing companies from scratch, learning all of the ins and outs and building a customer base from nothing, instead of just buying a business from a retiree with all of that built in already?(A:N)

Well, he wouldn't be adding his name among their number. But this man's willingness to sell could only mean one thing.

"You are retiring?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"I am reaching that age, and against the advice of my peers who warn that retirement is death, I am making preparations to do so. Though I have not announced it yet." Belby explained. "Potions masters are rare, and when one retires it turns out to be a big deal. Selling to you will act as my announcement. I would prefer to sell to somebody who would properly continue my legacy. Which you seem to be doing."

Harry tried his best to show how touched he was as he spoke.

"It's too soon to merely accept. But we can meet tomorrow to hammer out the details. I don't think I'd be denied a loan, either by the goblin nation or my benefactors." Harry told him. "In the meantime, I am going to be really busy today and tonight. If you would please join the other volunteers in the next room, I have to go help approve the next ones."

Belby nodded and went on his way.

"At least I won't suffer from wont of things to do in my retirement." Belby said. "With two or three days a month taken up here."

Harry went back outside to help with the boards approvals.

-

Splitting the chapter into multiple parts.

(A:N) : After Writing this sentence I decided to google and see if there are websites for buying businesses from retirees. There ARE! And they're really affordable. I mostly worked landscaping, security and agriculture so I looked into those. Yup. People are selling their business, with all of their equipment and their regular customers/infrastructure already built in.

I presume they would also provide financial records, income and expense statements, stuff like that. Hell, I saw a preschool for sale for a similar price to the landscaping companies. Want to teach preschool? Instead of wasting four years in college(losing money from not working and on life expenses during those four years) to work at one, just save up or get a loan to buy your own preschool and you get to run it! No boss! You're the boss and you get to choose your coworkers. There were some other blue collar companies for sale in interesting niches like water pipe cleaning that, along with the equipment and customers, included honest to god training! How is this not advertised more as an opportunity for young people? Well I'm advertising it now. Get out there, my fellow millennials and older gen Zers.

As for sites I used, it was businessbroker and bizbuysell. They aren't paying me, just spreading the word. Make sure to do your proper research, investigate these companies, and stay frosty!

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 39:

A Crowded Sanctuary Part 2
​

---

They managed the approval process for new volunteers like a conveyor belt after that.

All of the ministry workers and members of the board of governors came prepared with their background checks already finished and certified. This included Mr Weasley, Tofty, Dolores, Mrs Marchbanks the elder, Mrs Marchbanks the younger, Mafalda, Felicity, Hana, both Hagrids, Scamander and Belby.

After that, Tofty, Dolores and their gang of office ladies got straight to work. They were on fire, in the zone as they were, while Harry and his board inserted them right into their field of expertise. Managing people by doing background checks and the like.

These ladies floo'd to the ministry and back a hundred times that day, bringing copies of volunteer and patient IDs to the ministry for verification and coming back with clean slate after clean slate. The ladies just went down the road speaking to each werewolf that stood waiting, checking their identities to ensure they weren't on the run or, worse, terrorists intent on sabotaging the sanctuary.

Then the construction crew arrived, led by Hildebrand.

A dozen men, some of whom Harry could feel weren't even wizards, followed him inside and to the ground floor barracks. He couldn't imagine the licensing nightmare to have Muggles work in the wizarding world, whether they were spouses or siblings of wizards or not.

"Alright boys. Tear down that wall. We're creating an expansion outwards. Gotta double the space." Hildebrand told his men.

Harry had half expected, half hoped, that they would actually tear down said wall with explosion hexes. But no, they meticulously cut out the lath and plaster with charms while Fred and George went outside to setup a tent. A big one, like that of a circus, to hide the construction. It somehow contained that entire side of the house.

Once the interior was stripped, they removed the exterior and set that aside. Then came the really interesting magic.

The men simulcasted a transfiguration spell that compressed the dirt into a concrete-like state. It compacted the earth, removing all of the air and moisture, and partially liquefied the sand and stone to make it flow between each other before solidifying again. It was such beautiful magic he had to let Ghillie Dhu out to feel its inner workings.
From there, Hildebrand opened and tipped over a large trunk that turned out to be filled with timber. Timber that was then used to frame the extension. They didn't use nails, opting to instead to fuse the beams together similar to the transfiguring charm they had used to create the new foundation. They then carved some simple runes upon the joined to make them stretchy where the fusing was done. Harry assumed this was to simulate the give and flexibility of nails. The entire frame was one solid mass by the end of it.

They only extended it by ten meters, making sure to set up duplicate ward stones to link the old spatial expansion enchantments to the new area. The more area you had to expand, the bigger the expanded area was proportionally.

With the framing done, they threw plywood onto everything, including the new floor. The place was now properly sealed and practically finished, save for the interior walls and shingling.

"Don't worry about insulation, drywall or wallpaper today." Said Granpappy Crabbe. "Just make the outside pretty for any watchers. That means reattach the exterior we removed. Then add the new siding and shingles."

He turned to Harry.

"I already got identical siding panels and shingles. Probably have a bit extra you can put in storage for future repairs." Hilderbrand said.

Harry nodded.

"I don't like that it won't be finished today, but I recognize the necessity. We should do something to hide the floor there. Not to mention the plywood floor can't be sufficient." Harry complained.

"Oh, I brought a rug for that. And a temporary conjuration will be fine for the walls. The warming enchantments we have should be more than enough. If not, our collective charm skills are up to the task of keeping everybody cozy through the night." Hildebrand reasoned.

He was correct. Winter had yet to set in and it was proving to be a mild autumn so far.

With less than an hour until the entire werewolf population of Europe was due to flood into these walls, they finally setup the facilities properly. The shelves were converted to the military-style bunk beds and setup around the room. This still left them with a lot of empty space with no bunk beds to place there.

"We will handle that, dearie." Molly told him.

She and Andromeda got to work transfiguring the upstairs and hallway furniture, mostly Wheezes display cases and the actual furniture in their living quarters, into new bunk beds. Katie and Angelina cleared them of all personal belongings with impressive housekeeping charms of their own.

One massive, imported rug to cover the unfinished floor and an illusion spell to match the wallpaper of the room later and they were ready for their guests. Just in time too.

"Come in! Come in! Anybody allergic to wolvesbane please enter through the back door where our resident mediwitch will discuss options with you." Harry hollered over the crowd as they poured in.

He ushered them in one by one, shaking hands and accepting free hugs when offered. A few of his benefactors, namely Valentine and Mrs Zabini, stood on either side of him to help with the greeting. Both were people persons, especially Zabini who took pride in her power to make any man feel like a king with her mere smile. With how life had beaten many of these men down that small interaction was all the more powerful. They certainly needed it.

The remaining volunteers led the werewolves to their quarters, acquainting them with their facilities – bunk beds, chamber pots, curtains for privacy due to said chamber pots, and all the rest. Each was walked through the procedures, from the silvered cuffs to the checkout process.

"Professor Morrigan, you are wanted in the rear." Fred interrupted him.

Harry nodded and followed his red-haired friend to the back where Narcissa and Andromeda had monopolized a room that was now full of particularly down on their luck werewolves.

"Everybody you see here is allergic to wolvesbane." Andromeda informed him.

Wow. That was more than expected, nearly twenty of them. Nowhere near too much to handle. Hell, they could all probably fit in the downstairs fridge if it came to having to put them on ice for the night to keep them calm.

"What's the problem? We should have enough alternatives on hand." Harry asked.

"Well, when offered to be administered medical THC, Mr Hendrix had an interesting question." Narcissa said, motioning for the man to ask it again.

He stood up and did so.

"Um. My work drug tests me, and it's already difficult enough keeping a nine to five while disappearing for three days out of the month." He explained. "Can you guarantee us a cleansing potion afterwards?"

Ah. Most people referred to that expensive concoction as the hangover cure potion, but it actually removed all substances from the body that were not in the body when the potion was completed. Much like the polyjuice potion, it required material from the person to be used as a reference, which had to be the imbiber. Drop a hair in there before a night of hard drug use, then drink it the next morning. Clean drug test.

"Let me ask." Harry excused himself.

He found Lucius looking over paperwork with Dolores and her gaggle of human managing ladies. They looked to be reports on the going-ons of the facility, namely affidavits that everything was done their job to the letter. Swearing that every person was checked in properly, their identities confirmed, that everything was explained to them, yada yada. Unfortunately, it had to be done for every individual werewolf.

None of them seemed pleased to be filling them out. Harry could empathize. He'd had to do them last time.

"Mr Malfoy." Harry interrupted.

"How may we help you, Professor Morrigan." Lucius said without looking up.

"I needed to ask you if we could afford…" Harry tried to ask.

"Yes." Lucius answered before he could finish his question, again without looking up.

Harry blinked at the man.

"You don't even know what I'm about to ask you to get for us." Harry said.

"True. But any question that begins with any variation of "Can you afford" always ends in yes." He said, this time looking up. "I'm Lucius Malfoy. Of course I can afford it. That's like somebody asking you or Tom if you are capable of magical feat x. It doesn't what x is, the answer is yes."

Harry appreciated neither the man's own hubris, nor his estimation of Harry's magical prowess. That he just casually referred to and compared him to Voldemort in a room full of people was also unappreciated, though humorous as nobody else in earshot knew who he meant by Tom. Except maybe Mrs Marchbanks the elder, based on the giddy gleam in her eyes.

---

They still had hours before dark, but Andromeda and Narcissa would want to look over them long before their transformations to ensure they didn't have any illnesses or conditions they needed to be aware of. Especially allergies to wolvesbane.

Speaking of wolvesbane, Belby just returned with the marauders, each of whom was laden with cauldrons of the stuff. Around this same time, the twins and Mr Weasleywith several trunks, full of shrunken bunk beds.

They set up the new beds in the new extension to the house and got back to guiding werewolves inside to their bunks.

Harry meandered to the kitchen for a cuppa only to find Molly, Narcissa and Katie hard at work filling the dining room with food stuffs. Organizing all of the baked goods and cheeses and smoked meats that he hadn't known they had. There was barely enough space to conjure enough tables on top of tables to hold it all.

"We'll get everyone fed as soon as they're all situated dear." Molly said. "And as soon as they're cleared to stay by the more medically trained among us."

After that, all that was left for Harry to do was sit on his hands and wait for night to come around. Remus had promised to go back and bring the students over when the chaos died down.

"So, Morrigan." Mrs Shunpike greeted him from behind.

Harry sighed and turned around to see her approach. She was flanked on either side by Mrs Marchbanks, the younger, and Madame Hooch. It was an odd trio to be sure. Although he could guess how Mrs Shunpike and Mrs Marchbankes the younger had met, what, with the latter's husband formerly working in the time department of the unspeakables.

"We find our talents aren't exactly being used." Said Mrs Shunpike.

Hmmm. What to so with a seer and prophet, a sports master, and the wife of a chronomancer?

"Do we have any board games in stock?" Harry asked, turning to Hooch.

She raised an eyebrow at the suggestion.

"We sure do!" He heard George yell from another room.

Board games of muggle and wizard make alike soon filled the waiting room. Everything from checkers and chess, to shoots and ladders, to exploding snap and gobstones, to a card game about growing and trading beans. If nothing else, it had variety. Harry knew how to play maybe a handful of them, but could tell games like monopoly had to go, as they were too long and would last well into the transformations of their guests.

They began conjuring tables, small ones akin to widened foot stools, when the Hogwarts students finally arrived, escorted by Warbeck. Hermione, Ron, Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Susan, Daphne, Neville, Marcus, Kenneth, Eddie, Cho and Miles were all here.

"Welcome Madame Warbeck, we have a large contingency of werewolves allergic to the wolvesbane that may need your attention at the moment. The rest of you? Your job today is to play board games with our guests." Harry instructed.

A series of disappointed and confused grumbles later and Harry led the teenagers, each laden with an armful of board game boxes, into the barracks areas. Harry directed them to pick the games they were familiar with and setup at one of the tables before beginning his speech.

Romulus, who had been keeping his fellow werewolves company until then, stood up to greet them, hugging Ron and fist-bumping Draco. Hadrian wondered at when they became so chummy.

"Now. Just because you are all waiting for your inevitable suffering this evening does not mean the hours leading up to it must also be suffering. These young volunteers have agreed to help you pass the time, in keeping you company and playing board or card games. We have everything from checkers, to clue, to chess and sorry. Of course, we also have the wizarding games of exploding snap and gobstones if that is more your style, but there are some strange ones here even I haven't heard of like… cid maer's civilization and… star ship command? Whatever it is, give it a shot! You might like it."

He distributed the boxes and teenagers to tables of werewolves, giving each their own. Ron made a beeline for the table with the chess board but Harry put a stop to that.

"Maybe let somebody capable of losing play against the down on their luck and in pain medical patients?" Harry whispered to the redhead.

It took a second for him to catch on, but he nodded when he finally did. Him playing chess against these people would be like Michael Jordan playing hoops with paraplegics. And playing seriously. He knew Ron, he wasn't capable of losing on purpose or going easy on somebody in chess. In fact, Harry wasn't sure how anybody could go easy on somebody in chess.

Ron sat down at a table with Chinese checkers already setup and got to work. Romulus took his place at the chess board.

Harry left Remus and Lily to supervise them all while he made sure things were going swimmingly.

"Morrigan." Lucius called him over. "I sent a messenger to Larange's Potions and Tonics. They said they have enough stock of the hangover potion to supply all of the werewolves that need it. It should be here by morning, so we should get some samples from the participants now."

Harry nodded and marched into the back room where Warbeck and Andromeda were tending to the crowd of allergy sufferers.

"We are good on the cleansing potion. Just extract some hair and follicles now and store them properly." Harry informed them.

The looks of relief on the faces of the guests was instant.

"Alright then folks, everybody down into the basement so I can drug you up and freeze you." Warbeck said with a wicked grin worthy of the serial killer she was starting to sound like.

The patients laughed nervously as they followed her. They gave him some sideways glances as they went.

Harry resisted the urge to make a joke about eating frozen fingers as snacks. He already had enough attention from ladies without the boost to his allure that Jeffery Dahmer somehow had.

The remaining couple hours passed in a blur. Harry spent it helping the other board members fill out the paperwork. It was as quiet as a pop quiz, with nothing but the sound of quills scribbling and parchment rustling. But soon the two hours were up, and the sun went down.

"Alright children, out with you! It's time for them all to be given their potion and to tuck in for a rough night. And you all have to get back to the castle." Harry told them.
Que the moaning.

Several of them looked ready to argue, but he shushed them and motioned to join him in a different room away from the ears of their patients. When they arrived in teh kitchen he put up an eavesdropping ward.

"But it's a Saturday night!(A/N 1)" Draco complained. "And there's no Hogsmeade tomorrow."

"All true. But you already learned all you were brought here to learn, and the place is far more crowded and busier than we expected. We do not have the resources to have you here today. Maybe next month." Harry said.

"And what exactly was it we learned by playing board games all day?" Hermione asked.

Warbeck entered the room, flanked by Belby and Andromeda.

"What you learned is a little thing called bedside manner." Said Warbeck. "A skill far too many neglect to develop. You just spent several hours in a room full of dangerous, unwashed, strangers and not only put them at ease, but had an enjoyable time. The ability to be kind and sociable with people of all walks of life is paramount for any healer."

Miles Bletchley and Romulus Lupin both pulled out a handy dandy notebook and began scribbling into them. Good lads! He'd been neglecting his one little notebook lately, in favor of a proper scheduler and planner, and made a mental note to start using it again.

"Alrighty then! Everybody here, save Romulus, it's time for you to make your way back to the castle." Harry said. "As for you my young mutant werewolf friend, off to the barracks with you!"

---

(A/N 1) I screwed up. The full moon on September 1996 was on a Thursday. I got it and October's confused when I wrote the grand opening chapter. Damn it all. I do all this research and still screw it up!

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 40:

A Burning Olive Branch​

---

"Alright! All non-medical personnel, out of the quarters!" Warbeck ordered.

The Marauders and some of the new adult volunteers mock-groaned like children as they exited the barracks. More than a few of the guests chuckled or outright laughed at their antics. They all grabbed the plates, utensils and unfinished carbohydrates that their guests hadn't gotten around to yet.

Harry led them into the same sitting room where the werewolves with allergies had congregated earlier. They all took their seats and waited patiently.

Narcissa, Molly, Warbeck and Belby were all administering the wolfsbane potion to the guests upstairs. Scamander, both Hagrids and Andromeda were downstairs in cold storage tending to the werewolves with allergies. Andromeda to administer the all-natural alternatives, Newt and Papa Hagrid because of their long experiences dealing with werewolves and magical creatures alike. Rubeus was ostensibly down there for the same reasons as his father, with the added bonus of being one hell of a bouncer if need be. Especially with his immunity to lycanism due to being half giant.

They were all so quiet you would think they were holding a wake. Truth be told, they were waiting for the transformations to begin, or more accurately, end. Something about being chipper and enjoying themselves while that kind of suffering was happening in damned near every other room of the house just didn't feel right.

And so, they all sat there in silence as they listened to those horrible noises. Noises of pain, noises of bestial rage, and the cries of werewolves in pain from that awful transformation. Those cries slowly died down to whimpering. Despite this quitting down nobody seemed comfortable enough to start a conversation, breaking their dour moods.

They didn't need to, as Andromeda and Narcissa joined them. They were followed by Molly and Hagrid Senior from the opposite directions at the same time.

"Madame Warbeck says we will be taking shifts in pairs." Narcissa told them.

"Time for some eating and talking." Said Hagrid senior. "Where is all of the leftover treats for our guests?"

"I'll get them. Dear, can you send a house elf to fetch us some wine?" Narcissa asked Lucius. "You know, from the wine cellar you were planning to host a werewolf rave in?"

"I don't mean to be that guy, but no drinking on the job." Harry said. "Not even responsibly."

Harry bore through the series of "awwww"s in mock complaint from the crowd as he cast a switching charm. The leftover pastries, fruit, and dip all appeared in the rooms, still on top of their tables.

"Shall I at least send an elf for syrup?" Lucius asked.

"Syrup?" Harry asked.

"For sodas." He said. "Add a bit of water and a carbonation charm, and we will have ourselves plenty of virgin drinks."

"Oh yeah! That, we can do." Harry told him.

And so, they supped.

They ate, they drank non-alcoholic beverages, they talked, they joked, and they laughed.

Lucius didn't hold back on the sodas either. He had a lot of unique syrups, one of a homemade sugar plum recipe which he claimed was gifted to him by a business partner from Malaysia which was a huge hit between them all. There was also a syrup for almost every berry and citrus fruit. Harry particularly liked the almost Dr Pepper with a little more anise or fennel than it ought to have, making it taste more like absinthe or sambuca than a Dr Pepper ripoff. It had a nice amaretto undertone to it. Very nutty. It went great with the almond cream fritters.

"I am in the mood to dance with my husband, will you allow us?" Narcissa asked.

Lucius already eagerly stood up at her words, as did Molly and Arthur, the latter of whom was practically lifted out of his seat by his wife.

"I don't know…" Harry said, thinking of the guests in the other room.

"We can play some slow, relaxing music on the wireless deary." Said Molly. "And have them projected into the other rooms."

Oh wow! That was a great idea. Why hadn't they thought of that? Some smooth jazz or relaxing house music to bring some peace to their guests.

"Mrs Tonks?" Harry asked, looking to the present mediwitch. "Your professional medical opinion?"

"I think it is an excellent idea. It will be a boon to the mood of our guests." Said Andromeda.

"Very well. Turn on the wireless. Only a slow music station though." Harry said.

Soon, the sound of hi hats, bass guitars and saxophone filled the entirety of the Shrieking Shack. It was played at a quiet enough volume to still hear everything in the other rooms. Slowly, the pitiful groans and whimpers of their werewolf guests died down as the volunteers began to dance. The tapping of their feet on wood turned out to be a little loud though, so he insisted they remove their shoes and dance on their socks, which was much better.

All of the couples took to the center of the room. Lucius and Narcissa danced beside Arthur and Molly who danced beside Lily and James who danced beside Sirius and Arianna. Remus eventually picked out Mrs Figg and, more strangely, Ian Hagrid picked out Mrs Shunpike for a dance partner.

Harry looked around for somebody to dance with himself and was once again struck by how similar Andromeda looked to her sister. He threw the idea away as soon as it entered his head, but not before Andromeda noticed his glance.

"Well, Mister Morrigan? Aren't you going to ask me to dance?" She asked.

"That's a bad idea. You're married, and I have a girlfriend." He said.

Andromeda pointed out to the dancers, who were at that moment exchanging partners. Sirius was now dancing with Lily while James danced with Arianna. Meanwhile Lucius was doing the same with Molly as Arthur charmed his own wife.

Harry understood her point, while she was pretending not to understand his own.

"I really don't want to dance with my girlfriend's lookalike of a sister." He said. "I get the distinct impression that may bring up some old grudges between the two of you."

She tilted her head innocently.

"Does my sister seem the jealous type?" She asked.

"Yes. Both of them do." He said, tilting his head to the dancers.

Andromeda looked up in time to see Narcissa giving Lucius and Molly's laughing forms a sideways stink eye. She laughed at her sister's unfounded insecurity.

"Okay, point. But she doesn't scare me. Not much she can do to me." Andromeda offered again.

"She does me and can to me. The answer is no." Harry refused with a tone of finality.

"You're just a coward." Andromeda said, folding her arms and legs. "One who takes joy in disappointing beautiful women."

Harry had to blink at the strange non sequiter, and suspected he just got a glimpse into a private conversation shemust have had with Bellatrix recently.

"But I'm not! And I don't!" An especially giddy Peter Pettigrew said as he approached and offered a hand.

Andromeda took it and the two were off to their dancing. With both seats next to him now vacant, Valentine and Hildebrand closed in, sandwiching him.

"I did not expect an actual party today." Said Hildebrand. "Else I would have worn nicer work clothes."

"Let alone a dance party between purebloods and Muggleborns." Said Valentine. "Reminds me of the days before World War Two."

Harry glanced at him, before motioning for him to continue.

"Well, Shunpike there used to be the bell of many balls back in the day. Though back then we had chaperons surgically attached to all of us." Said Valentine.

Really? That was a side of her Harry had never heard of. He leaned in to listen carefully.

"Really?" Said Hooch, who was sitting nearby. "That's a side of her I've never heard of. Do go on."

He shrugged and went on.

"When I was young, muggleborns, purebloods, and all host of people joined for parties and nonprofit events and balls and things were fine." He said. "She was the sweetest little Hufflepuff, from a Muggle family up in East Yorkshire. She brought in all of the new dances from the swing scene. Our elders didn't much appreciate her or her little gal gang's introduction of Muggle dresses but introduce them they did."

"A lot of us young men at the time had never seen anything so ostentatious." Said Hildebrand. "And a lot of us pursued those girls for marriage solely because of the force of personality and sexuality they presented. But she was brilliant, and some of us pursued her for that. Damned that Shunpike for getting her."

"Those were better days." Mrs Marchbanks the older said. "I remember taking Lucius's own grandfather to Muggle London for clubbing and he was just starstruck with it all. We are all so lively back then, thinking that the horrors of the great war were behind us."

"Then Muggles had to go and have a population explosion, flooding us with more immigrants than we could handle. Then stupidity took over everyone and everything is fucked!" Valentine said.

Their dancing coworkers all stopped their little party and were looking to the three of them.

Harry reached out with his senses and, sure enough, Valentine had used a switching charm on the liquid in his goblet. That was straight vodka he was drinking.

Lucius stepped in.

"Come on sir. It's take you home." Said Lucius. "Now is not the time for politics."

"Then when is?!" Valentine demanded. "Here we all are, professional, respectful and respectable people breaking bread and dancing together. When else will we have such an opportunity to just talk things out?"

Nobody had an answer to that.

"It's been so long since we've all gotten along like this." Valentine said. "Then this upstart, who I'm seventy five percent sure isn't at all who he claims to be, comes in like an angel and just shatters all of our carefully constructed facades and barriers between our cliques. Makes it feel like we're in a real society again! And it should make me happy, but it just makes me sad."

The candidness of a drunk man, especially an older and hardened one, was a powerful thing. Everybody shrugged and patiently returned to their seats. Harry noticed most of the purebloods sat on the left side of the room, even Molly, Arthur and Sirius, while the half or less sat on the right with Harry. He hadn't actually voiced a side, but it was nice of them to assume.

They all just looked at each other, as if giving the floor to any other parties to begin.

"Hadrian." Hildebrand said. "I think we may all benefit from your thoughts. You tend to be candid and wise. Not to mention neutral."

Candid and neutral? Not so much. He had the choice between one or the other, and he chose candid.

"I grew up raised by Muggle relatives not even knowing I was a wizard." Harry said. "And I can honestly say; fuck everything Muggle. Fuck their society, their view on marriage and family, their politics, their other politics, their other other politics, their horrific Prussian model schools, and especially their economics. It's almost universally terrible. Even their fashion and music has gone to shit in these last few years. But wizarding society? Sure, it has problems. Lots of problems, but I love it. I love magic. I love the sense of community that still exists here. And I see no solutions to its problems coming from the 'enlightened' Muggle-raised who think modern Britain, or any Muggle country, has the answers to them."

Apparently, they weren't properly prepared for a candid conversation, that or they were all realizing how off they were in estimating his positions. Lily in particular was gaping at him and Sirius was making an 'oh' face to try and stop himself from smiling in awe at Harry's little speech.

"I think you hinted at the biggest issue. It really is the attitude." Lucius said. "Muggleborns coming into our society and daring to call themselves 'progressive' when their society is so far behind us on almost all of the issues they complain about ours having, and in some are backsliding into greater inequity. I think its because a lot of them think magical Britain is part of Muggle Britain and owes any fealty to their psychopathic royal family, let alone their laws?"

Lily stood up to argue her point but Mrs Marchbanks the elder pulled her back down.

"They are hurling words dear, as opposed to spells. Let us remain calm and ask questions." Marchbanks the elder said. "What issues in particular do you feel Muggle society utterly fails at but that Muggleborns try to criticize us for? I can only think of a few."

Dolores made that atrocious sound with her throat that was like a cross between a cough and a laugh, though with actual humor for once.

"I can't think of one that isn't hypocritical!" She said. "Especially the young women who come with their feminist ideas. Daring to claim our society is less egalitarian between the sexes, when we are quite literally two millenia ahead of them in it."

Her words riled up the other pureblood women, the pureblood and muggleborn men alike all retreating into their chairs as they went.

"We actually put female murderers and rapists behind bars for one." Said Andromeda. "Instead of having a separate legal classification like 'made to penetrate' or 'sudden infant death syndrome.' Sudden is right!"

"Yeah, we aren't big on murdering or chopping up babies over here." Said Narcissa, backing up her sister. "And no, I don't mean abortion, I mean actually murdering your babies and getting away with it because police won't investigate, or judges won't convict making up nonsense excuses like post-partem depression."

"Post partem depression is very real." Said Andromeda.

"So are many other mental illnesses, none of them are an excuse for murder, and what few almost are still ought to result in life behind bars for the criminally insane. Padded bars, with medically trained people to watch over them." Said Narcissa. "And it's also no excuse for genitally mutilating your baby boys."

"Wait, what?" Lucius, Arthur, Alecto, Molly, Dolores, and several other purebloods all asked at once.

"Oh yeah. Seven days old, no anesthesia, lopping off foreskins." Said Narcissa, looking to Andromeda to confirm her claim which she did with a nod. "They are at least progressive enough to only do it to the boys. And that still is hardly the worst of their seeming man hatred."

"That is so... so…" Dolores said, grasping for words. "Savage! You're savages!"

Valentine stood up and Dolores recoiled at his face.

"Civil. Please." He said, with a sigh.

He then sat back down and seemed to deflate into a man of… well, his age. He spoke then, and everyone listened.

"Most of mine and Hildebrands complaints come from our age and long memories." He said. "We were there. In World War two. To us, it is a fresh memory. Muggleborns act like it was so long ago, that they have radically changed since then, but I don't see it. Not least of all because they do not disavow or ban the ideologies of socialism and communism and their policies which did so much evil in Germany and Russia, respectively… and China… and Cuba… and South Africa... and… you get the point."

"From the outside it does look like the Muggle world is a powder-keg ready for another world war at any minute." Said Hildebrand. "In fact, such atrocities continue in distant lands and you all just pretend they aren't happening. We never enslaved our fellow human beings as wizards, but how many million still live in bondage in your nations?"

"Forty million, give or take." Mrs Marchbanks the elder said, helpfully.

Several people gave her questioning looks at that piece of trivia and how she knew it.

"But every now and then a young boy or girl comes into our nations demanding we commit genocide against elves by freeing them all." Said Lucius. "That our relationships are akin to slavery, when it is the house elves that bond to us and our homes to survive, not the other way around."

Lily made a guilty face and Harry suspected she may have waged her own S.P.E.W crusade once upon a time before being informed that elves are actually brownies. That they would literally die without a host family to bond to. How Hermione didn't guess there was more to people with wands owning creatures to magically clean their homes instead of just waving said wands still baffled Harry.

They were quiet again after that.

Eventually Arthur chuckled and added a point.

"I always felt that the problem was that they just don't seem to get that they are immigrants in a foreign nation and treat it like its their own." Said Arthur. "The funny thing is, we do work so hard to make it palatable to Muggleborns. We even change our business laws to make it easier for registering LLCs or non profits, as Morrigan can attest."

Oh hey! Harry somehow missed the strangeness of the registration process for his nonprofit being identical to that of Muggle Britain. Had he actually registered in both nations when he made the sanctuary? He needed to go talk to the goblins about that.

"But there is a naturalization process, or at least there's supposed to be. There's also a readymade exit clause." Said James, speaking for the first time. "Muggleborns can always just… leave. Muggle society is still open to them if they hate ours so much. And once they get their owls or newts they are trained enough to conceal their magic and live normal Muggle lives. It's a large part of the Hogwarts curriculum, actually. Training young witches and wizards in magic that will help them to fit in with Muggle societies, if they can't fit in here."

"Is that what you want darling?" Said Lily. "For me to leave you and go to live with Tuni?"

"No! Well, maybe, if that would make you happy and safe." Said James.

Lily's face ran the gambit of emotions from hurt to touched as she caught her husband's meaning behind the words.

"I'm still caught up on the whole 'legal for women to rape men' thing and cutting up baby boys genitals." Said Alecto. "I thought that was only done in desert countries without soap or running water, or penis cleaning charms."

There were specifically penis cleaning charms? Was there a smegma-begone charm Harry was supposed to learn in Madame Pomphrey's sex ed class?

"Oh, don't worry." Said Mrs Shunpike. "Their women have been raised to parade themselves around like sex objects and demeans femininity to the point that motherhood and wifedom are vilified and women are just treated as defective men at worst, and unaccountable children at best."

"And we haven't gotten to the bizarreness of Muggle racial tensions." Said Sirius. "At least the racial tensions we have in the wizarding world are with beings that are actually of another species with irreconcilable differences, meanwhile Muggles can't get along with people of different skin colors, but want to talk to us about giving giants and centaurs rights in our countries? Rights they would never extend to us in theirs?"

Ian half glared; half shrugged in agreement to that bit about giants. After the shit he went through to be even slightly welcomed into giant society, he better not disagree with that sentiment. Dislike it? Sure. Argue against it? Absolutely not.

This time Harry stood up and raised his hands to quiet everybody down.

"Ladies and gentleman of the pureblood persuasion, I think you have spent enough time airing your grievances. Perchance let the other side speak?" Harry offered.

"Thank you, Professor." Said Arianna.

The half-blood woman stood up and cleared her throat. She then straightened her back and raised her hands as if she were about to make a long-winded and erudite argument.

"Voldemort…" She said matter of factly.

The entire room burst into full-bellied laughter. Even Lucius had to reach out and steady himself on an equally unsteady Sirius.

The name Voldemort was pretty much sufficient to explain the issues that recent Muggleborns and their families had with wizarding society.

Harry managed to wipe the tears from his eyes and noticed that Hildebrand and Valentine weren't laughing.

"Counter point. Serial killers like the Brown family that targeted purebloods who owned house elves. Killing their entire families. Or the Lullaby killer, who systematically targeted the children of pureblood families with her insane ideology of us being inbred and in need of miscegenation." Hildebrand offered.

Both people Voldemort specifically hunted down and publicly executed during his rise to power, earning him many followers. And both of whom inspired serial killers on the other side. The latter Voldemort hadn't been so great at stopping.

This was a circular topic that would lead them nowhere.

"Well, I don't think there's anything we can say that you won't dismiss out of hand." Peter said. "You all said yourselves that our society and its ideas or ideals are anathema, and poison. Any criticism we might lobby against wizarding society you will claim stem from oir arrogant and hypocritical society."

"Hmm. Fair point." Said Amycus. "But what I think you fail to understand is that you have no right to criticize our society at all. It is OUR society. Our country. We are painfully cognizant of its problems; they are ours to fix."

Peter gaped at the audacity of that counter argument. It was a little unthinkable to somebody of British stock, so Harry intervened.

"Question." Said Harry. "If you emigrated to Muggle… somebody pick a non-European culture?"

"Philippines?" Tofty offered.

"Okay. Philipines. If you emigrated to the Muggle Philipines, and you decided you wanted to raise a stink about its politics or society. What would happen to you?" Harry asked.

"I can answer that." Said Sirius. "That is specifically illegal. You will be arrested and or deported."

Harry wondered at how Sirius would know that, before deciding he'd probably vacationed there and found out the hard way by acting a fool.

"Okay." Said Harry. "Anybody want to name another non-European country? Or will the second verse be the same as the first? And the third. And the twentieth. My point here, is that wizarding society treats Muggleborns far and above better than even other Muggle nations would. They've certainly treated me better than the Muggle nation I grew up in."

'When I wasn't the poster child of their military opposition' – He added mentally. Being Hadrian Morrigan, an open-minded half-blood who was respectful and curious about their society? Wizarding society had been great to that guy. Hell, they were great to Harry after Voldemort was gone.

"But Voldemort?" Arianna repeated.

"A nuclear option, and a mostly empty threat." Lucius answered. "As you don't seem to understand your mere existence is a nuclear threat against us, literally. If wizarding existence is ever exposed to Muggles, an eventuality each of you are capable of bringing, you know what will happen."

Andromeda cut in.

"Well, the first thing that will happen is Muggle governments the world over will begin kidnapping Muggleborns to perform scientific investigations on you so inhumane as to make Unit 731 look like an ethically sound research clinic." She said.

Holy shit! Harry hadn't thought of that. Oh man, was he a specist? Because he fully believed Muggle societies would do that. All of them would absolutely do that. He was going to have nightmares about that.

"The second thing that would happen is war, because your feckless royal family would see our lands as their lands." Lucius added. "As would most nations. That would mean nuclear annihilation, and retaliatory city-consuming fiendfires with no wizard interested in putting them out, or basilisks being released into Olympic stadiums to petrify everyone in the world through television. With nowhere near enough mandrakes to cure even a fraction of them."

Harry appreciated Lucius just laying out Voldemort's contingency plans for the eventuality of a Muggle-wizard war. Killing the basilisk in the chamber just jumped up in priority. It was time to go buy a rooster.

"Reminder." Said Sirius. "You can leave. We can't. This is our only country. The only one where we can continue our culture. You already have a country that is the way you want ours to be. If it means that much to you, you can go there."

"But without magic." Said Peter.

"You mean our magic?" Said Lucius. "Invented by our ancestors and those who emigrated into and assimilated into our society? That magic? The magic we shared freely asking only that you be one of us? Lily Potter, you are an outstanding witch. As is your protege. Any one of us would be honored to have you or her as parts of our families. But you don't treat us like family, as we do each other and tried to do to you. You don't want to seem to be a part of it. We are willing to open our homes for you if you want to be in them. That's what magic is to us. And it means more than you know when we share it with you."

He leaned back into his seat in an undignified and defeated manner.

"I think, it would make us purebloods unbelievably happy if you all just said… thank you, once in a while, for being so good to you despite how hard it was. But I think we really have reached the point in society where all we have to say is 'either assimilate or get the hell out of our country.'" Lucius explained, throwing his hands up.

"Or die?" Marchbanks the elder asked.

"It shouldn't get to that." Said Valentine. "It should never have gotten close to that as part of the ultimatum. But I guess, yeah? If the choice is the continuation of life on the planet, our continued exists as a society, or a civil war, guess which we're picking?"

Everyone slouched at that declaration.

"So that's it then?" Said Harry. "Are we at an impasse? All of these brilliant people in one room, and we can only come up with three options. Integrate, separate, or continue this ludicrous war? Cold though it may have become."

Most of the room chuckled nervously at his words. Others nodded sadly to them. Arthur actually laughed.

"I mean, there's also just doing away with the statute of secrecy and making peace with Mugglekind." He offered in obvious jest. "Then we can just have our divorce and Muggleborns can go built their magic utopia somehwere else."

Harry felt his eyes widen at Arthur's words. Partly because that was exactly the solution Harry was gunning for in his own timeline, and eventually this one, but mostly because of who Arthur was the father of.

It might have just been wishful thinking, but perhaps Ron had inherited his 'prediction in jest' ability? God, Harry hoped so.

Just then the smooth jazz coming over the radio stopped, replaced by a repeated beeping sound. One meant to signify an emergency broadcast.

Everybody groaned expecting truly terrible news, but not the voice that came from the other end.

"Good evening, Europe." Said Voldemort. "This is your resident Dark Lord speaking."

Harry closed his eyes. This couldn't be good news. Here came the declaration of war, or offer of money to hitmen to retrieve Hadrian's head or something. And almost five days early too.

"I have good news." Voldemort went on. "I am calling for a truce."

---

And I've finally done it. I've finally dissected and explored what wizards believe.

They are essentially aliens watching human society from the outside in secret. Any alien species would look and us and say "Oh. They're chopping off pieces of their baby boys for no medical reason other than so mommy can like the way his cock looks and to avoid the uncomfortable conversation of teaching them to wash said cock... yeah, these are savages." Let alone the fact slavery of our own species still exists on the planet today, made to penetrate laws exist and so much more. No, if I were them, I wouldn't want us emigrating there either.

They really are more egalitarian than us and have been for at least 2000 years. Actual equality between the sexes. Wands are greater equalizer between men and women than smith and wesson or any modern technology, a prerequisite for gender equality(Being equally capable in both labor and violence). And this is actual equality. The kind feminists REALLY don't like. Bellatrix Lestrange went to prison instead of getting the Manson girl treatment. Case closed. The only conservative thing about these people is the family structure, whcih we are quickly learning was kind of important and is not antithetical to equality in and out of the home. And I expect people to call me a misogynist for believing that female rapists and murderers belong in prison. We live in a society where THAT is a radical belief. And I never saw ANY racism in the books. Specism? Yes. But us Muggles coming in and criticizing that seems a bit out of line considering the now extinct Neanderthals and Denisovans. And you don't need to be an animal rights activist to see we don't exactly treat nonhumans with the same dignity and with the same rights as we do humans.

Now imagine being a member of a truly gender and racial equal society, and somebody from our society comes in trying to stir things up. Compound this with the difficult question "are muggles and wizards even the same species?" which I don't have an answer for.

There really is no real-life comparison here. This is purely fictional politics. Plenty of countries with an immigration crisis, but not one that has to keep its existence a complete secret, is bordered by a nation of people that outnumber them 10,000 to 1, aren't even of the same species, live in the stone age, and have weapons capable of annihilating all life on earth, takes part in slavery of their own people and regularly genocides its own people through targeted starvation or death camps. Now imagine if those people were holier than thou brits with a superiority complex and recall how much South Africa and India appreciated that attitude, and you have magical Britain.

This is an insanely interesting scenario, and one that I enjoyed exploring. But that exploration is over. Now it's time for shit to get really crazy. There is one more chapter of peace before shit hits the fan and it's all out action from there. Oh, and the romance between Harry and Bella finally comes to fruition next chapter.

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 41:

A Typical Halloween​

---

Saturday morning came around and Harry was the last man standing, as it were.

Half of the volunteers had gone home to get some sleep and return in the mid-morning to relieve those who preferred to run on no sleep than insufficient sleep. Harry was one of them, hating the grogginess of a four to six hour nap in favor of the tiredness of an all-nighter.

Nothing of further note happened, really. Everybody was a bit tongue tied and looking somewhat shell-shocked by the declaration of peace. It was also possible that everybody, on both sides of their unexpected debate, also felt greatly humbled by their expanded worldviews, or else embarrassed and uncomfortable with their conduct the night before, that they were just walking on eggshells around one another.

Harry found it indescribably amusing, but kept his good humor to himself as there was work to be done.

The werewolf guests slowly recover throughout the morning. All of them looked and sounded like people coming to with a horrific hangover, especially those who had been stoned through the night.

Those workers who had gone home returned, looking similarly dreary, and got to work making their guests feel like human beings again. They helped the guests shower, in the two separate shower rooms they had prepared for male and female guests. There was a third bathroom, but that strictly belonged to his renters.

Guests were showered one by one, by hand, as a volunteer of the guests choice sat them down in the shower seat and washed them down with hot water. It was slow work, cleaning them two by two, and lunch rolled around by the time they were done with it. At this point, the guests were feeling normal enough to feed themselves and so they were provided extra black coffee and what remained of the food stuffs.

From there, the detox potions administered and everybody was given a physical. Thereupon they learned that many of them hadn't had a checkup, medical or dental, in years, and so the lovely mediwitches provided them all with such.

By the time everything was said and done, it was nearing evening, and the werewolves were cleared to go home. Or back to being homeless, in some cases.

Hildebrand, Lucius and Valentine along with the workers from yesterday were waiting outside offering transportation... and job application forms on the sly. Everybody else pretended not to notice. It was a blind eye that needed to be turned.

They would still get a little sick throughout the night, maybe grow some extra hair or have their teeth become uncomfortably pointed, but they wouldn't fully transform or be infectious. That only happened on the day of the full moon proper.

Everybody cleaned the place up, returned the transfigured furniture back to their original states, and helped the wheezes put their wheezes back onto the restored shelves. Hands were shaken, hugs and busses were doled out, and people went home promising to return on the following full moon.

Harry was the last to leave, save for two main guests. Hildebrand and Mrs Shunpike. The former came forward as the latter stood away patiently.

"It looks like I may have some new employees to process over the next few days, and I would like to have them do the finishing on your extension when they're ready to start. Can I count on you to hire us to finish the job?" He asked.

"You can count on it." Harry promised with a smile.

Hildebrand shook his hand and exited through the front door.

Mrs Shunpike approached him, with her hands folded demurely in front of her.

"Is there something you need to warn me about?" Harry asked.

She tilted her head curiously at him.

"That I am able to talk to you about? Very little you don't already suspect." She told him.

Problem was, he suspected such a wide myriad of often contradictory things about so many subjects, people and organizations – especially in regards to the Unspeakables – that this affirmation meant literally nothing to him.

"I actually wanted to speak to you about your battle precognition ability." She said.

"Battle precognition ability?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes. Both Madame Marchbanks and young Figg described your ability to dodge and attack as if by precognition in your mock duel." She said.

Harry made an "oooh" mouth and smiled.

"It's not precognition. It's actually related to my skill with wandless magic. It's complicated." He explained.

She blinked at him.

"I imagine my other self took great pleasure in researching such an ability." She fished.

"Sure. But she had to wait in line with all of the other Unspeakables, and half of the magical researchers on the planet." Harry asked humorously. "The latter of whom I found much more palatable and honest."

She shrugged.

"That's more than fair. I bid you goodnight, Professor Morrigan." She told him before leaving.

Harry closed the door behind her and sighed. It was done.

"Floo should be up and running in twenty." Said Katie.

"Thanks. But I can walk home in that time." Harry replied.

"Or you could shower here in that time and by the time you floo back to your office you can just swap to pajamas and plop into bed." Lee suggested.

Harry was honestly flabbergasted by the brilliance of such a suggestion and took it in stride. Twenty minutes later he did floo back into his office. Being freshly showered he cast a switching charm on the clothes he was wearing, replacing them with soft, silk pajamas.

When he finally got into bed he remained conscious long enough to feel Headwig glide over to sit on his bedpost, before falling into blissful sleep.

---

Harry woke up to a letter from Andromeda.

It was a party invitation, for Halloween evening.

I took the liberty of inviting Lucius, Cissy, and Bella. Of course my husband and daughter will be there as well. You joining us would make it a full party.

Costumes required.​

Harry jotted a quick acceptance before thinking on it. Right, Nymphadora was going to be there. Which meant they were missing one important person. He accepted under the condition that he be able to bring Remus along. It was time to play matchmaker.

He checked Bella's calendar, which she had gifted him so he could know when she was free for a date, and saw she was training today… With Fleur Delacour. Yeah, he didn't want to be anywhere near that storm, so instead, he spent his Sunday patrolling the halls, catching troublemakers, docking points, and thankfully avoiding handing out any detentions.

It was a good Sunday. That evening he wrote a few letters, such as the one to Hildebrand's company offering to hire them to finish the job on the Shrieking Shack, at which time he received a reply from Andromeda accepting his conditions.

He then turned in.

Classes that week turned out to be a bit on the melancholy side. With the three-day weekend following Halloween on Thursday, he couldn't get the students to pay much attention to anything at all.

Especially not with news of a ceasefire and respite from the constant fear of terrorist attacks and assassinations, on both sides of the great hall, everyone seemed so much… lighter. Some students outright began skipping between classes like Luna, who curiously did not, content to watch others bemusedly as they took up her usual method of getting from class to class.

Those four days came and went, where the only thing of interest to happen was a short chat with Remus.

"Oh hey, I'm going to the Tonks household Thursday night. You're my plus one." Harry told him.

Remus shrugged.

"Okay." Was his simple reply.

Then Halloween arrived. His class, like the others this week, were instructed to read and catch up on other class work or finish their homework from said classes. He had yet to break his oath not to assign the crap thus far, an oath none of his coworkers had taken issue with thankfully.

He had to admit, his anxiousness was growing as the day wore on. But to be fair, the fecal matter striking the fan part of Halloween usually came in the evening. Dinner time at the earliest, which arrived far too quickly for his liking.

It was announced by a knock on his door.

"Come in Remus!" Harry called out.

Remus walked in, dressed up for Halloween as a red shirt.

"Star Trek? I imagine only Teddy and maybe Tonks will get that." Harry told him.

"Aren't all of them Tonkses?" Remus asked.

"No, I mean their daughter. She prefers to just be called Tonks." Harry warned.

"But Nymphadora is such a pretty name." He tried to get out without snickering but failed. "But anyways, where is your costume?"

Harry removed his robe, to reveal he was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

"Responsible Adult costume." Remus read his shirt. "Well now you're just living in fantasy land."

Harry smirked at the humorous man and motioned him over to the fireplace. He flood to the Tonks household first and was greeted by the entire Malfoy clan. Of course, he didn't readily recognize them at first.

Lucius was dressed as Dracula, the Bela Lugosi one, not the one that looked uncomfortably similar to Sirius. Or who knew, maybe he was going for Christopher Lee? But even Lucius Malfoy couldn't pull off that level of posh and gentlemanliness.

Next to him was Narcissa dressed as Bride of Frankenstein. She somehow made the look more attractive than the original actress.

"Putting Elsa Lanchester to shame?" He complimented.

Draco was the odd one out. He was easily recognized, as he wore only a toga. The back of which had knife hilts sticking out like porcupine quills.

"Julius Ceaser?" Harry guessed.

Draco tapped his nose.

Remus flood in behind him and also took a moment to realize who he was looking at. He eventually smiled and shook everyone's hands.

"Star Trek huh? Uncle Ted loves that stuff. I think it's more boring than flobberworms." Draco said.

"And who are you supposed be?" Remus asked.

"Julius!" He said, in a voice that almost sounded like a father disappointed in his son.

Remus reached out pulled one of the knives out of his back to reveal a full-on blade. He then inserted it back in, before repeating the process with the other knives.

"Owe. Owe. Owe. Owe." Draco deadpanned with each knife as they were reinserted.

Harry immediately recognized his costume was that mokeskin cloth Fred and George had been working on. So, Draco had been the main benefactor of Weasley Wizard Wheezes? How interesting.

The Tonkses rejoined them and escorted them to the living room, where they found it decked with all manner of Halloween themed foods, drinks and decorations.

As with the rest of the day, their evening flew by. Harry didn't drink much, but he still could barely remember that evening save for the laughter, the fact that stories were told, and Draco was the king of charades. But only the acting bit. He couldn't do the guessing part too well though.

They didn't even have a proper dinner, per se. Just slowly snacking throughout the night and filling on said snacks.

Sadly, the night had to come to an end, and everybody had to go home. The Malfoys left first, followed by Remus and Tonks, who did not leave together despite Harry's internal wishes.

He was getting up and readying to leave when Theodore stopped him.

"Please, stay here the night. We have a spare bed and want to share our weekend with you." He invited. "Bellatrix already agreed to do the same."

Harry looked at his girlfriend. He smiled at her.

"That sounds perfect, sir. Thank you. Let me help clean the place up, but then I need to crash." Harry accepted.

Even with magic it took him twenty minutes to store all of the leftovers, clean the dishes and put the decorations away. By that time, he had heard the showers start and end, and Theodore and Andromeda had both switch into pajamas and come down to wish him goodnight.

He was a yawning mess when he stepped out of the shower and proceeded to Tonks' old room. Finding the bed without linen, he then went to the closet down the hall to retrieve some. His actions were interrupted by a light cough.

"Hadrian?" Bellatrix said from her bedroom door.

He turned to see her standing in the doorway, giving him the most bemused look a woman had ever given him. She was dressed in a strategically sheer nightgown that was cut significantly shorter than was considered appropriate for pureblood women for simple sleep.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her bemused smile creeping into her voice.

That was a good question. Here they were, sober, having dated for months, staying the night in the same house, and he was sneaking off to sleep in a different room? Right, yeah, he needed to get his head checked.

Harry shrugged and walked into her room, slinging her over his shoulder as he entered. The surprised "Ooh" she made was delightful. The giggling as he layed her down on the bed even moreso.

"My goodness, Mr Morrigan. You certainly know how to keep a lady waiting." She said.

---

Voldemort arrived, side-alonged by his companion.

There they stood in London, atop big Ben. Him and Alastor Marchbnaks, now fully recovered from their productive sparring match and subsequent heart to heart.

"A few moments until midnight." Alastor said.

Voldemort withdrew the diary and the Timekeeper. A device Alastor had clued him in, as well as his oaths would allow him, to the existence of and means of stealing. The breathing room of the truce this last week had allowed him so much extra room to tackle projects. Hunting down Nahashtan, which turned out to be a hitherto unknown species of Coatls, and finding the thing dead but entombed had been a disappointment at first, until he got a team to harvest the body parts for potion experimentation. Results were promising.

But his personally breaking into the department of mysteries for this prize? Now that had been productive.

"Such simple, and yet overlooked magic." He lamented, glancing down at the giant clock face.

"Only the theory behind it, not its application." Said Alastor.

Fair enough. But symbolic sorcery, magic of faith and belief and superstition as fuel and blueprints for esoteric magics, was just so readily available and obvious. And here he was, standing atop a symbol. The center of the world. The reference for all timekeeping. All clocks on the planet were set in reference to this one. Located at the point by which geography was annotated.

There was such power in that. There was such beauty in that, and yet it was so often overlooked.

The bell tolled, and he raised the timekeeper high into the air.

---

For all two of you who are still here from the original version of this story, with Harry and Alastor's bromance, this is what I was building up to in that version of the story. But I could tell readers didn't give one iota of a fuck about exploring the magic of faith, the hints at Unspeakables pulling shenanigans in the background, and Alastor Marchbanks in particular. So this betrayal, and the coming conflict, lacks the buildup it needs to reall hit home. But its still the original outline of the story I'm working with here.

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 42:

Londonium​

---

They must have been laying there in peaceful afterglow for at least an hour. He occupied himself listening to and feeling her heartbeat and breathing while she drew circles in his chest hair while humming.

It was still a bit early in the night and neither were sleepy, especially after that. When the magic of the event faded they'd go another round, as the second go of the night was always better than the first, and that ought to tire them out.

They didn't talk at all. She was the rare woman who didn't feel the need to ruin the moment with pointless chatter. It was wonderful, laying there with his arms wrapped around the warm body on top of him with nothing to see by but the bright light of the recently full moon.

Their perfect night was ruined when a much brighter white light exploded into the room. The shock of it sent both of them tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs and linen as they both scrambled for their wands.

By the time they succeeded in this task, they identified the source of the light as a phoenix patronus. Only one person that could have come from.

"Everyone! Buckingham palace! Now!" Dumbledore's voice said.

Harry'd never heard the man so panicked. This must be the big one. Just shy of midnight and November first. Another Halloween ruined, time to find out what fresh hell he was in for this time.

They both got up onto their feet and began rummaging through the wayward pieces of clothing for their respective property. They started putting them on the old-fashioned way before Bellatrix remembered she was a witch and flicked her wand. The remaining clothes slithered onto their bodies and gently wrapped around them until all limbs were put through the correct holes. They even buttoned themselves.

He look at Bella with a raised eyebrow. Fancy bit of household charms work, but he didn't compliment her on it. She, like Dora, always put on such fronts pretending not to be any good at them.

"You apparate, I'll side along." She ordered.

He happily obliged the pretty lady. He held her against himself and with a twist and a hop he made them both vanish.

They reappeared in what he'd intended to be London, several blocks away from the palace. But it was so bright out it had to be daytime, but the light was not of the sun. It was too white, more akin to moonlight, and too bright, more akin to being surrounded by strobe lights.

It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust, and when they did they saw the utter pandemonium enveloping London.

Thin films of white light radiated from Big Ben, resembling visible wards breaking and reforming over and over again. They were like the pole of a magnet visualized with magic. Around them, where the fabric was visible from the side, glimpses of different places showed clearly like a moving being projected on plastic sheets.

He saw roman streets, wild grassland, wet fern forests, many natural disasters from forest fires to hurricanes and tsunamis, and much, much more.

"This is clearly some Department of Mysteries bullshit." Harry identified immediately.

"What is this?" Bellatrix asked. "Is time in… flux?"

She got it right in one. Past, present and future were now confused. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why anybody would want to do that. It took every ounce of control he had not to release Ghillie Dhu and examine his own magical signature.

Of course, he didn't need to. He could feel magics which had effected him the past take hold and release repeatedly. The power of the goblet falling over him when he was forced into that tournament, to his recent contract with Hogwarts. They kept re-applying themselves on him, before vanishing. He couldn't feel it when they vanished, but he could when they reapplied themselves.

"All things magical are in a state of flux, namely our "aura."" Harry explained. "Or more accurately, all magical effects which have hold on us or ever had."

"Then why the windows into other times?" Bellatrix asked.

"Probably an unhappy side effect of whatever the caster of this insane magical feat was aiming to accomplish." Harry told her.

One of the films near them broke, like a wave crashing, and things that had once been or would one day be spilled out. People, with animal-drawn wagons filled with goods, crashed here and there. Each was as disoriented and confused as one would expect a person from Roman Londonium to be when transported to the nineteen nineties.

They began babbling in what might have been Roman, but Harry quickly got to stunning.

"We cannot kill anything that bleeds through, or else risking an alteration to the timeline." Harry told Bellatrix as she started to follow his example.

"Will they just pop back into their own time when this ends?" Bellatrix asked as they approached the unconscious figures.

Harry began casting a protective ward around them

"I sure hope so." Harry said.

A loud ringing sound, like a bell cracking in half sounded to their right. They looked to see another film snapping like a taught chord reaching its payload limit. Harry and Bella looked each-other in the eye, and nodded to each other, signaling that they both knew what needed to be done and were willing.

They ran towards the danger, as both were born with the inclination to do.

Father Time stepped into the room of spinning doors. Space, Prophecy and Life joined them there moments later. All of them studiously ignored the Unspeakables in the rooms behind them, panicked and running about trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

The three of them had no need for investigating.

As one they advanced on the door to the department of Truth and entered.

Vials of truth serums, from scopolamine to veritasium, lined many sections of the shelves in labeled vials beside books of philosophy and theology, and all sorts of lie detecting machines covered the walls. Along with anti-cheating quills and similar contraptions.

Here too, Unspeakables ran around from station to station in a panic, but these too the quartet ignored. They proceeded through the long department, as wide as two hallways with the walls covered in bookshelves and two aisles of desks running down the length. Their goal was at the end, where the hall opened into a wide open stadium-like area. One exactly like the place where the veil of death sat in the Death chamber.

They were sibling artifacts, and had been here for untold eons before their discover in the sixteen hundreds. Two of the four in this underground facility that precipitated the need for a Department of Mysteries, and a magical government around them.

The oath obelisk. A spire of stone of the same make as that archway in the other room, and which can inflict upon people or the world itself binding contracts that make the unbreakable vow look like those worthless pieces of paper Muggles called contracts. A single spire or rough, poorly carved stone which was the bane of their existence, their shackles.

Truth, the Unspeakable in charge of the Truth sub-department, was running in circles around the structure. He prodded it with different measuring instruments only he would know the uses of while weaving complex analysis charms with his wand. It made for an impressive display of multitasking and hand-eye coordination.

He finally took notice of them and stopped, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank goodness! Exactly the people I need." He said nodding to the four of them.

He then paused, staring at Life.

"Except for you. Time, Prophecy and Space I understand, but why are you here life?" Truth asked.

"Mostly a hunch that I needed to be here." Life said. "And as you know, when one of us has a hunch, it tends to come true. Now, what is the state of the oath obelisk?"

Truth made a frustrated sound.

"It keeps changing it's state of time, like we all are, but being so old its changes are far more radical." Truth explained. "I can actively feel when its time signature changes to an age before I submitted my oath to it, only for it to then switch back reapplying the oath."

So could all of them. And that was the point wasn't it.

"Have you tried cast a freezing charm on it while in the state you want?" Prophecy asked.

She was referring to the sister of the impedimenta charm, the one that actually freezes an object in time instead of merely its momentum.

"That… actually could work." Truth said thoughtfully. "Go get the newest member of our department, and bring them here. When they feel the oaths magic take effect over him he can cast the charm and we'll know everybody is effected."

"Or…" Said Prophecy, motioning towards Life. "We could bring along the oldest member of the department and have him cast the charm when he no longer feels its effects, and we will know everybody is freed."

They couldn't see the look of confusion on Truth's face, but they could feel it. And it was surely frozen there forever when Time's stunner took the man out. The alarms immediately went off, as flashing red lights signaled that a department head had just been attacked while in the Department of Mysteries.

Space, Time and Prophecy quickly formed a triangle around Life as he advanced on the obelisk. Together, they raised a hyper-aging ward around them and the stone, using an enchanted orb that Time had prepared ahead of time. They got it up none too soon, as the other department heads all appeared in the stands of the stadium, wands drawn and pointed at them.

"Then it was one of us. Or more accurately, several of us." Said Death.

"And the three most obvious suspects to boot. Who would imagine Time, Space and Prophecy would be behind whatever that little Dark Lord thinks he's doing." Said Soul.

The seven department heads outside of the barrier circles around the room until they were evenly spaced. Meanwhile, the four within kept at their self-appointed roles.

"What do you all hope to accomplish with this little coup?" Asked Dream.

"Freedom, of course." Said Space.

"Freedom?" Brain said.

They seemed a bit unimpressed by that answer.

Space rolled her eyes beneath her hood, not that they could see it.

"Aren't you just a wee bit tired of weaklings like Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Riddle and the like thinking they're actual powerhouses while all of us are bound to play the meek little researchers down here?" She asked.

Love, both of them, laughed mirthlessly beneath their hood.

"Oh yes, adding another twelve dark lords and ladies to the mix will make the world such a better place, wouldn't it?" Said one head, before the other spoke. "And surely being able to break our oath against sharing or using magic that could threaten civilization, humanity, or all life on earth would make for a good time for everybody, wouldn't it?"

"Could. Such a vague word to be chained by." Said Prophecy. "How many spells, potions or alchemical monsters already out in the wild "could" lead to the destruction of humanity, civilization or life on earth? Fiendfire anybody? Basilisks? Dreamless sleep potions? Brew up enough of that and drop in into the worlds rivers and lakes and bye bye fauna. It wouldn't even take that much. Yet here we are holding back such amazing things. All of us."

"Not after today." Said life as he flicked his wand and cast the freezing charm.

So it was done then. The oath no longer applied to anybody at all, so long as it remained frozen. Which it would not for long.

"And what now?" Asked Death. "Going to destroy the obelisk?"

"Of course not." Said Time. "We are going to wait for the time shuffle to end, and when it does, the time signature we are all in at the time will become permanent. For anybody not struck with time freezing charms, that will be our original states. Like the obelisk."

Their colleagues finally caught onto the fact that they, too, were unmoored by their oath to not harm their coworkers and began casting every curse they knew at the barrier. Which turned out to be a great many esoteric curses that nobody outside of them likely knew of, or could imagine. The barrier held, as it was less of a barrier than a contained dome of space within which time moved thousands of times faster. Light and sound could pass through, as they were not things which decayed. Curses, jinxes and charms? Those could not. Physical matter could, but that was easy enough for them to defend against.

All they had to do was hold out. Time anomalies never lasted long, for the universe abhorred such things.

By the time Harry reached the location of the snapping film it was still in the process of breaking. Like a cascade of a glass teardrop shattering in slow motion.

Around them was destruction, as the roads, buildings and vehicles had all been hyper-aged and de-aged in equal measures at different places. Wood beams s turned back into the trees from whence they came and steal rebar ages to red powder, glass windows reduced to sand and liquids freezing or evaporating in equal measure.

None of these effects were total nor consistent on the objects they attacked. To the point their areas of effect resembled veins of time anomalies in panes of glass, car doors, or single branches jutting from wooden support structures inside of houses. While at other times entire trees would burst upwards through roofs of homes while entire office buildings would collapse as their steel skeletons vaporized into rust, only to reform again without the building it was meant to support.

"Well this is fucked." Bellatrix said, surprising Harry with her use of foul language.

No sooner did she say it than did the film finally finish breaking. Before it did, Harry caught a glimpse of a deluge of rain and ferns beyond number. After it did, a large shape of scales and sinew fell to the ground not fifty meters from them.

It crouched low to absorb the shock of the impact from its fall into its powerful legs, before slowly rising up to its full height. For a moment Harry thought it was a new type of dragon, only for its full image to surprise even him.

Bellatrix pointed at the creature.

"Dinosaur." She said in a voice as if pleading for anybody to tell her she was seeing things.

It sure was. He didn't know which type, but it resembled a t-rex if it were much larger and had a stouter neck a shorter teeth. He was never one of those children who were artistically obsessed with the age of extinct reptiles, but he was sure he could find one somewhere around here to tell him what it was(AN).

It opened its mouth and roared to the heavens, as it did so a great burst of flame erupted from its mouth.

"Huh. Well, I guess that confirms the magizoologist theories on dinosaurs all being proto-dragons." Harry said aloud.

"That is not a thing!" A muffled, angry voice called out from nearby.

"That is abs-o-lute-ly a thing." Harry said, grinning, before he recognized the voice. "Wait. Minerva?"

They checked on their time displaced lizard friend and saw that it was more interested in delicately taking apart an SUV like a child with a RC car and screwdriver. Deciding it wasn't causing any real trouble, they began hunting for the source of the voice in the rubble of destroyed buildings around them.

They found a transfigured dome around what he suspected was an underground rail entrance. They removed the rubble covering it and Minerva did the rest from inside.

They saw, behind her, Muggles. Lots and lots of Muggles. They were packed in so tight they were shoulder to shoulder behind the witch who had clearly been protecting them.

Harry looked to Minerva. Then to Bella. Then to the normal city-goers of London. Then he addressed the two witches.

"I don't supposed either of you see a way for us to save the statute of secrecy after all of this, do you?" He asked.

"No." Minerva said, shortly.

"No." Bellatrix said, so soon after Minerva it was almost in unison.

"Right, yeah, me neither." He said with a sigh.

But on the bright side, he had the two baddest witches on the isles with him now, and if that wasn't enough to make a young man feel ready to face the apocalypse, nothing was.

---

Sorry to you guys on ffnet and QQ who went without an update for almost four months. I have kept up with writing a chapter every month I just completely forgot to migrate them over here from patreon. Mostly because nobody leaves comments or replies anymore The internet seems to be dying. So, you can expect two more chapters this month, though chapter forty five will remain reserved for patrons until I write chapter 46.

AN:

For those of you feeling personally attacked by this comment, don't worry, I resemble the remark myself. And it's a megalosaurus, first discovered in Britain. I somehow remembered that from my childhood 25 years back as I outlined this chapter. When I googled it I was surprised to find my memory correct. I thought I put megalosaurus in there as a placeholder until I had time to research what dinosaurs were actually discovered in the British Isles, but apparently childhood autism never leaves you.

Dinosaur Adventure 3D, anyone? Dino Crisis 2(1 sucked)? Walking with dinosaurs? God, our childhood was awesome.

More Notes:

This chapter probably makes no sense to people who didn't read the original story before the rewrite, in which I thoroughly explored the magics being revealed here. But I could actively feel the readers falling off and showing zero interest in the magic of faith and the increasingly common hints at Unspeakables pulling shenanigans in the background. So, for new readers, this new arc probably seems like nonsense without that buildup. But the readers didn't like the buildup, so it was thrown away.

Thanks again to patrons and comissioners.

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 43: Broken Time​

---

Aurors began appearing with the telltale popping sounds of apparition. As always, when seconds matter, police are… jeez! Twenty minutes behind? Now that's just unacceptable. Even if it was after midnight.

"Holy shit, is that a dinosaur?!" He heard Tonks' voice.

He spotted James and Sirius among the group of Aurors who accompanied the fowl mouthed woman.

The individuals in question spotted Harry and Minerva instantly. This was less to do with their perceptiveness and more to do with the two Hogwarts Professors being so recognizable. Along with the crowd of huddled Muggles behind them.

"We'll handle the evacuation." Said an Auror he didn't know. "I assume you have to go Deus Ex Machina this catastrophe with Dumbledore?"

Harry looked at the man, and for the life of him he couldn't recall ever having met him. He'd worked up a stranger reputation than he'd thought if people thought of him as a magical power house worthy of verbifying Deus Ex Machina.

The unknown man and twelve of his colleagues wend down into the subway while the present Maraudors bore down on him.

"Do we know the source?" James asked.

Harry pointed at Big Ben.

"Use your eyes. Source is exactly what it looks like. Difficulty is getting to it safely. No telling what passing through those filaments will do to a person, especially with them bunched up so close to the epicenter. Might wind up in the neolithic, or cretaceous." Harry told him.

James and his cohorts did as instructed and looked to big Ben, bathed in wavy curtains of light that reminded Harry so much of the priori incantatum in the graveyard in another world. He suspected the cause was similar in nature, a clash of identical magics and wills. Only this time engineered instead of accidental.

Harry smelled a rat, one significantly less clean but more cunning than Wormtail. The original Wormtail. His Wormtail. Whatever.

"What course of action do you recommend?" James asked him.

Harry blinked at the man. Was his own father deferring to his wisdom and experience? This felt like a right of passage with none of the buildup. He better not fumble it.

"Impedimenta and reparo wards could stop the movements of these filaments entirely." Harry sent. "These filaments are first and foremost time anomalies, a measurement of motion and entropy. So wards stopping motion and reversing entropy may hinder or destroy them."

He gave the long winded explanation in the second half only after seeing the confusion on his unexpected follower's faces. Those expressions turned to understanding as he went on. His reasoning must have made as much sense to them as it did him, even though he was partially grasping at straws.

He didn't know for certain such wards would work here, only that they were the first two worth trying when trying to contain and temporal anomalies. That was at least one thing he had learned working beside the unspeakables. Not from them, but from encounters with them.

"Okay. I think all of us are capable of doing that." Said James. "I assume you're leaving that to us while you eliminate the issue?"

Harry touched his nose with one hand and pointed at James with the other. He was clearly still in the mind frame of charades. After the hard time Draco had put him through, kicking all of their asses at the game, his brain ought to be stuck in a loop of some kind about them.

"I need to find Albus first, and maybe Voldemort because this doesn't seem like his work, let alone a turn of events he wants. The three of us madmen together would come up with a better way to deal with all of this than my dumbass alone." Harry said in an honest assesdment of both his, Albus' and Tom's natures.

Both Sirius and James glared at him in suspicion, seemingly from his guess that Voldemort might actually be an ally in all for this. Tonks went with the flow.

"Okay! We will handle the warding in this section. Can you and Auntie Bella handle one of the other sections?" She asked.

"We can." Said Bella, without hesitation. "If you see Albus or Tom, who I would remind you has declared a truce, tell them of our plan."

James, Sirus, Tonks and their many companions got right to work carving runes into map posts, which were regulated to be designed with ward stones under their bases for Auror use. Word traveled quickly between them and they all got to work erecting the wards in question. Even in the time it took for Harry and Bella to embrace Harry recognized they were setting up the wards in queation on the east and west sides of streets, respectively, and designing them to project skyward. Harry would have been impressed if he'd been given the time to do so.

But Bella wrapped her arms tightly around his neck signaling that it was time to go. He twisted in place and apparated them both to the other side of the nearest film.

They fell almost right on top of Albus and is posse. Lily, Remus, Arthur, Moody, Deadelus, and a good seven more people Harry didn't recognize swarmed around him.

They all, as one, turned on Harry and Bellatrix with their wands, but lowered them when they realized who it was.

"Impedimenta and Reparo wards?" Harry asked, noting the runes carved onto the nearby lamp posts.

"Right indeed." Said Albus. "Have you come up with a plan on where to go from there?"

"I was hoping you had." Harry said, concerned.

The groans of Dumbledore's gathered followers told him they had been hoping he'd have the answer readily wrapped for them to use.

"What is your analysis of the situation then?" Albus asked. "Perhaps you have caught something I hadn't and together we might find a solution."

That was exactly what harry was hoping actually.

"My analysis is that somebody tried to create a localized time paradox, or else amplify one, in order to put themselves or somebody else into a variable state. Existing at all of their personal times." Harry said. "The only reason to do something like this would be to undo a curse, a ritual, an oath or a disease they have by reorienting their personal time signature to a time when they were not subject to it. The trick is to not also revert their minds and rest of their bodies to such a state."

Albus nodded along.

"I had thought it was an actual hole in spacetime created by somebody trying, and failing, to travel into the past." Albus said. "But your analysis makes more sense. And it seems whoever was trying to do it hadn't expected it to effect all of London so dramatically, and most of the isles to an extent as well."

"Voldemort?" Remus, Arthur and a couple others asked.

"Voldemort." Harry, Albus, Bellatrix and Moody all confirmed.

Lily was strangely silent, gawking at thin air. Harry recognized that look, Hermione always adopted in when she was having a braingasm of ideas. And when her eyes lit back up he knew she had a dangerous idea.

She grasped Remus by the arm.

"I have to get to James!" She said. "Now!"

He looked at her confusedly for a moment, before he seemed to have the same realization.

"You're right! This is it. Go, go get him and go… do the thing." Remus told her, stopping himself halfway through as he recalled where he was and who he was surrounded by.

"Whatever you're planning is likely very dangerous, and I am certain I cannot convince you to abandon such a course of action." Albus said. "But can I convince you that your help here is more important?"

"No." Said Lily, stonily.

"And is it worth James' job?" Harry asked, not knowing what she was planning but that it may require James to abandon his post.

"Yes." Lily said, with equal conviction to before.

"Then go. It'll be a lot of extra work for us, but we'll pull through." Harry told her. "He's one turn clockwise."

Everyone looked at him queerly.

"Twelve films, each emanating from a clock tower and aligned to the numbers of a clock. We are currently at seven o clock. He is at eight." Harry explained. "We just came from there."

She nodded and reached out for Harry's hand. He blinked at her in confusion.

"It will be faster if you apparate me right to him then come back here." She said.

He shrugged and, reluctantly, let go of Bellatrix. He instead took hold of his mother and apparated back to where he had left James. When they arrived it was to see the teams of Aurors still hard at work setting up those wards.

"James!" Lily yelled.

He leapt in fright at the sound of his wife yelling his name, a normal reaction for any man in Harry's mind, and rushed over.

"James, we have to leave right now!" Lily told her husband.

"But, I'm on an emergency call. If I go awol I'll lose my job." James said.

"We only have a few minutes, and this will be our only chance. We've been trying to undo it for years, and now we can, but you know it takes both of us." Lily said.

Were they talking about getting pregnant? Huh, had they done something that caused their infertility. Harry blanched at the possibilities, the most horrific being they aborted him with a potion and had the rare, but not that rare, side effect of being made permanently infertile. With the prophecy looming over them it wasn't an unreasonable thing to do, but damn. That was heartbreaking.

James seemed to understand and nodded, a bit of fear evident on his face.

He turned to Harry, as if asking him for permission or his advice. He wanted to tell them the truth,. That he had no idea what they were talking about and what he thought they were talking about, running off to go make boom boom and give him a little brother, was absolutely insane. But he was possessed in that moment of a feeling, one he had only felt a few times before. Like when he saw Mr Marchbank's future in that crystal ball. The words he was meant to say came out of him.

"I think you should trust your wife, mister Potter." Harry told him. "Whatever happens here is meant to be, with or without you. I think we have enough capable individuals to handle things."

He nodded and held his wife close to him. With a spin and a crack they were gone. With a spin and a crack, he was too.

He reappeared back where he had left Dumbledore's team, only to find them in a firefight. He didn't see Albus anywhere, but he saw at least five Death Eaters on the rooftops flinging blasting curses to try and remove the hastily the hastily conjured defenses that Remus must have created, and was still maintaining as Moody, Daedelus and the others returned fire.

Bellatrix was also notably missing from the fight.

Harry raised his want to his throat and cast a sonorus charm.

"Hey! Hey! I thought we had a truce!" He yelled with his enhanced voice.

The rapport he had built with everyone once again paid off, as the firefight came to an abrupt pause. His voice was pretty recognizable.

"So did we, but they just attacked us as soon as we arrived!" He heard a muffled voice from the rooftops call back.

Even through the mask and voice disguising charm that cadence was clearly Crabbe.

"Is it unreasonable to believe they're behind all of this?" Moody asked Harry, quiet enough to not be heard.

"Of course they're not behind this!" Harry hissed back, forgetting about the sonorus charm for a moment. He realized his folly but kept at it anyways. "They don't want the city of London being turned into a hyper-entropy and time split wasteland any more than we do!"

"It's true!" Another Death Eater yelled. "We still have no idea what's going on here, we just got the alert of a nuclear level disaster and came running."

Nuclear level disaster. Harry looked around. Yeah, this had the potential to be as devastating as a nuclear bomb if it wasn't contained.

"Okay then, I'm coming out. The truce is back in effect." Harry said with the sonorus, giving Dumbledore's men an evil eye.

He canceled the Sonorus.

"Albus took Bellatrix and a few others to six-o-clock." Daedelus answered the question Harry was going to ask next pre-emptively.

He nodded and continued out to the street.

One of the Death Eaters, definitely Goyle Senior – Hildebrand's son, obviously – came down to meet him. Between his easily recognizable form, even when covered, and his rather poor voice masking effect his disguise left a lot to be desired.

He was flanked by two others.

"What are your instructions and how can I help?" Harry asked.

Gregory stood back a little in what Harry guessed was surprise at Harry's willingness to just jump in and help, but he shook it off.

"We don't know, we only get vague instructions and messages through the dark mark. Color and sensation codes. When our marks turned red with a squeezing sensation we came as quick as we could." He explained.

"Sorry, I'm not abreast of your codes. What defcon is that?" Harry asked.

Another Death Eater, Lucius he suspected, came up from behind him.

"Red is the highest, reserved for threat levels like all out nuclear war." Lucius explained.

Harry agreed with that assessment.

"And squeezing means 'containment procedures.' So, we are trying to figure out how to contain this situation." Lucius finished.

"Impedimenta and reparo wards." Harry said. "That will slow down the spread. But to stop this I have to get to where Voldemort is. I understand the Dark Mark allows you to apparate directly to him?"

"It does, and he did summon us, but whatever is surrounding Big Ben bounced us out here like an anti-apparition ward. We can't get to him." Goyle said.

Damn. Well, there goes that idea… or maybe not.

"You can't get to him with it, but I think I might." Harry said. "But it won't be pleasant."

They all shared a glance. The one who had yet to speak shrugged at the others and motioned at Harry. He got the impression that gesture meant "Come on. It's Morrigan."

"What do you have in mind?" Lucius asked.

Before Harry could answer them, a nearby film made a loud metalic sound, like ice on a lake cracking. They all looked up to see parts of it collapsing inward in a pattern resembling oil being poured into water. Cracks erupted out of this section like spiderwebs, and out of it poured small, grey masses.

Harry groaned as they plummeted to the earth. Hundreds of them, emaciated and cracking htemselves, like golemns made of ash and oil and bleeding silver. They picked themselves up and stumbled to their malformed feet.

"Oh god… are those… inferi?" Lucius asked.

"I wish." Harry said. "Those are the biggest reason time magic is verboten. Those are the Unmade."

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 44:​

---

Alastor Marchbanks was a man of great faith.

As a child he had been a bit of a contrarian, especially in Sunday school. One thing he never understood was how God's law classified all sins as equally evil. A petty thief and a mass murderer earned the same damnation? This among other things that didn't make sense to his undeveloped brain drove him away from the good word.

Science and maturity eventually brought him back.

It was when he became a junior Unspeakable of chronomancy that he finally had the answer to his question on why all sins, unlike men, actually are created equal.

The butterfly effect made all sins equal.

Back in biblical times, stealing a loaf of bread could be the difference between life and death for the victim or their family. Assaulting somebody could leave then unable to work for days or months at a time, and those lost wages could mean the extinction of an entire bloodline. Back then, it was more readily apparent how stealing or assault or any other numbers of seemingly small harms could lead to the death of another back in those days. In modern times it was less apparent, but still just as true. What is stealing a penny in the grand scheme of things? Or a smidgen of property damage? In a modern economy we have all of these safety nets. Doesn't that absolves us of the deadly consequences. It doesn't. The principle still holds true. Even stealing a penny is tantamount to murder over a long enough period of time.

But surely mass murder is a worse sin that just one murder, right?

Wrong. And it takes the perspective a time traveler to see why.

It only took a quick thought experiment. Imagine a man has gone back in time to commit a murder against somebody who would cause the deaths of millions. Many had gone back in time to eliminate an Adolf Hitler, or a Norma McCorvey, or a Karl Marx, or a Muhammad, or even Big J himself by killing them before they caused, either directly or indirectly, the murder of tens of millions of people.

In doing so they don't wind up killing just the individual, but everybody they would have ever sired.

They killed the person's children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and all other descendants for the rest of eternity. They further killed anybody who would have come into being because of that person, either because their grandchild saved a life, or any other number of domino scenarios. Do the math. What's one multiplied by infinite? Fucking infinite!

Infinite is a lot more than the twelve million people killed by that Austrian painter. Infinite is a lot more than the sixty million as a result of Norma's false testimony. Infinity is definitely more than the two hundred million killed by Marxism. And infinite is even more than the two hundred and seventy million people killed by the Islamic slave trade, let alone their conquests, or the retaliatory crusades.

And what of the people who found enlightenment in Christ or Allah despite the misdeeds of their peers? What of the great authors and artists who were made from their suffering in the brutalist gulags, the soul eliminating poverty of communism? Making beauty from horror. What of unsung saints who saved countless thousands of Jews, Christians, gypsies and conservatives from Socialist Germany? What of the character and soul of those whose lives were now completely altered because they did not go through the trials or wars they were meant to? What of the homes they would have built, the great art and architecture, the love they shared, the poetry they wrote?

What of the Algazels, the Solzhenitsyns, the Leonardo Davincis, and all other brilliant minds whose existence and creations were as a result of these religious and ideological figures?

All gone, or at least severely altered.

Yes. It's true; Any time you commit a murder, you don't kill just one person. You kill an infinite number of people. All of that person's hypothetical descendants and the hypothetical lives they would have touched unto the end of time.

With regular murder that's only hypothetical. Those people are not real. God never wrote them down in his book of names. Or maybe he did. He is God after all. If he can create a universe that is predetermined and paradoxically give people free will, exist in all places and all times, then he can know the names of all hypothetical people who were never born because of a murder or theft, and punish the murderers and thieves accordingly.

The murderer and thief cannot comprehend this infinite, and few have the intellectual capacity to even consider these possibilities, and so don't. But God does. And time travelers do.

All time travelers know this. All time travelers know that any change they make, from stepping on a butterfly in the Triassic period, to killing an important historical figure, creates ripples in the timeline so large as to cause literally infinite death and destruction. They cannot claim ignorance like the petty criminal who steals a penny not knowing that they stole that penny from every owner it ever would have had, unto the end of time, and thus stole infinite dollars, and killed infinite people from where the domino effect of that penny's travels would have fed a starving child.

The time traveler is culpable for the unmaking of infinite lives.

But what happens to those people? Their names were in god's book. They were meant to be. Where do they go? Are they simply dead, do their souls go off to heaven like all stillborn or aborted children?

Nope.

"What the hell is that thing?!" Voldemort demanded.

Yeah. The Unmade were a disturbing sight even to hardened dark lords. Constantly in a state of flux, mutating between different stages of their lives or hypothetical versions of themselves thousands of times every second. They are men, women, children, infants, elderly, disabled, and everything else they could have ever been all at the same time.

That's what they were, but in appearance they resembled a Jeff Kimmel wet dream. All that weird twitching like from Jacob's Ladder, but on steroids.

And now they were pouring out of the films all over London. This was not supposed to happen, but Voldemort always was an overachiever.

"They are called Unmade, and they're easy enough to deal with." Alastor told him. "Here, let me take care of that since your hands are full."

A quick vanishing charm and the one that just leaked out of the dome surrounding the Dark Lord was no more.

Voldemort actually blinked in surprise at what he just saw.

"You can just vanish them?" He asked. "They looked more formidable than that."

"And without laughter, boggarts seem formidable as well." Said Alastor. "But yes. Unmade things, or miscreated things, can be sent back to the realms of nonexistance from whence they came with a simple vanishing charm. That's what it does. Actually, I know of people who stop using the charm entirely because of that."

Voldemort was visibly struggling to maintain concentration on the task at hand while talking to him.

"You know you just told me nothing, right?" Voldemort asked.

"Indeed. Knowing the terms unmade and miscreated is about as pointless as you continuing to fight against the timekeeper." Alastor told him.

But struggle he did. He was only supposed to keep the time flux open for a few minutes. They were now approaching the fifteen-minute mark and causing actual tears in reality. He really should have tried for one of his disgruntled but more powerful Death Eaters that wanted to be rid of the dark mark. That Snape kid probably could have done the trick. If only just.

Nah. That guy was too street smart to have fallen for this. Unlike Voldemort who was so easily conned.

"I take it all of this wasn't solely to repay me for putting you in the hospital?" Voldemort asked sarcastically.

Alastor looked at the dark lord, trapped inside of the dome of films where all the other films erupted out of. He held the time keeper in both hands and it fought against him as he continued to fuel its chain reaction, with him as the catalyst. Thick, varicose veins of white light grew up his arms where his very cells were being put in a state of time flux similar to the unmade.

And he was just gritting his teeth through the pain. Alastor would have been impressed if he wasn't so annoyed.

Such a remarkable device. Capable of deciphering time signatures of objects and people. With its aid many people afloat in time had been set right. Now it was being used to unset time signatures. But couldn't kill Voldemort like they planned. Of course, removing one of their three biggest obstacles couldn't be that easy. And the other two were almost certainly on their way towards him at that very moment.

"You wished to undo your mistakes. To break your own oaths and be free. We wish to do the same. Or did you think we helped you towards this end out of the goodness of our hearts?" Alastor asked.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"We?" He asked.

Oops. Did he let that cat out of the bag? Honestly, Alastor didn't understand why people overestimated his abilities so much. Even he wasn't so capable as to orchestrate all of this by himself. Tom Riddle may be delusional enough to think he can do everything himself, but Alastor wasn't. He suffered from wholly different delusions.

"You'll be meeting more equals than you ever dared to hope existed real soon. Assuming you survive." Alastor promised. "I have to wonder how lonely it's felt, being such a genius with no other minds quite like yours."

He allowed as much mockery as possible to seep into his voice.

"Well, men like you, Hadrian and Albus are not so rare as you've been led to believe." Alastor told him.

"So, the Department of Mysteries is planning a coup." Voldemort, rightly, concluded. "And that's where all of my peers have been hiding lo these many years. How exciting! All I have to do is keep this up long enough for the ones you failed to cajole over to your side to put a stop to all this."

Alastor frowned. Damned, if this man's mind didn't move ten kilometers a second. He was correct, of course. And with those films between them Alastor could do nothing to the man but badger him. He wasn't exactly the best at foul talk, but he'd give it the good old college try.

---

"Evanesco! Evanesco! Evanesco!" Harry's team of Death Eater and Order members called out over and over again

They were all taking cover behind more of those blocks that CrabbeOrGoyle had conjured while laying waste to the seemingly endless onslaught of Unmade.

"You know, this is turning out a lot more anticlimactic than I expected." Bellatrix complained as she erased more members of the horde charging at them.

"Imagine how much less anticlimactic it would have been were I not here to tell you how to deal with them." Harry said.

"I imagine the Aurors, Order members and Death Eaters in other sections of the city don't have to imagine it." Lucius yelled out at him.

Harry blanched, before disengaging from the fight and pointing his wand eastward.

"Expecto patronum! Go tell everybody with a wand that the vanishing charm works on these things." He said to Prongs.

Prongs bowed and flew off in a trot.

"Are you going to tell us what these Unmade things even are?!" Remus demanded.

"They are what happens when somebody was never born because of a time traveler's meddling." Harry explained.

"What about people who only exist because a time traveler altered who wound up with who?" Asked Bellatrix, her curiosity

"Those are called the miscreated. Unspeakables regularly hunt them down and unmake them. They have to. It's a real pain in the ass." Harry explained.

"How do you know these things?!" Lucius asked.

Harry raised both hands to his face and made spirit fingers.

"Psychic!" He lied.

A bright flash of light made them all hit the dirt. Harry got up first, recognizing the feel of the magic as that of the elder wand, which was still in his spare holster. Only one person that could be.

"Dombledore's back." Harry said in his normal speaking voice.

"Dumbledore's back!" Somebody, it sounded like Fred, yelled in his normal speaking voice.

And indeed, he just erased a good dozen of the Unmade with a single vanishing charm. Harry didn't know why he had been fighting with the handicap of not using the elder wand up until then, but he remedied that mistake.

He spotted the man in his vibrant robes marching down the street. Harry wondered at where he had been and could only assume he had opted to handle setting up a quick and dirty ward in one of the other sections of the city all by himself. Which wasn't a bad idea at all. It's what Harry had been planning to do, after all.

Harry waited for Albus to cast his next vanishing charm before casting one of his own at the exact same place. The spells connected, and the 'brother' wands resonated. The end result was absolutely nothing like what happened in the graveyard.

They didn't connect by a cable, they didn't struggle for control. The spells just exploded and the wand in his hand recoiled as if in disgust. The explosion itself was spectacular, as if the power of his vanishing charm was multiplied by the power of Dumbledore's, creating a vanishing sphere which engulfed and eliminated at least a hundred of the unmade. Plus half of the street and a couple buildings.

Thank goodness they were surrounded by empty office buildings and not residential homes. There was nobody in those at this ungodly hour, despite the brightness out. There were quite a few formerly potted plants, rodents, birds and insects which rained down into the crater. Living things cannot be effected by the vanishing charm. Unless they are Unmade or Miscreated.

He knew some Unspeakable who just went around randomly casting the vanishing charm on people, plants or animals to see if they're Miscreated. Sometimes they get a hit and have a pile of clothes and a wallet to start them on an investigation to find a time anomaly or traveler. Harry was still surprised they hadn't tried to cast it on him to check. Maybe they had and he hadn't noticed? Whatever.

"That should give you guys some breathing room." Harry said nonchallantly as every witch and wizard present slowly picked themselves off of the ground after witnessing the greatest display of magic any had ever conceived of in their lives.

"Split up your labour! Half keep up on the ward creation, the other on holding back the tide." He heard Albus yell out.

The crisis at hand combined the man's natural force of presence had everyone obeying his commands. The Death Eaters naturally went right back onto the offensive, casting vanishing charms directly into the holes in reality from which the Unmade continued to pour out of. Dumbledore's people proceeded to accomplish the other goal.

Harry waved Albus over and he apparated directly to him.

"Now that we've given them some breathing room maybe you and I should go give everyone else that same breathing room, then get to the source." Harry suggested.

"I think that is an excellent idea. Let us be on our way and completely gloss over our brother wands for now." Dumbledore said, offering his arm.

Harry took it and apparated them both to the next section where he had left Minerva and the Aurors. There, they found Arianna and her team completely overrun and struggling just to hold the line against the horde.

Harry and Albus shared a look.

"Same thing that worked before?" Albus asked.

"Same thing that worked before. But this time let's aim directly for the tear." Harry suggested.

Albus nodded, his face as serious as Harry had ever seen it

Looking skyward to the films that towered over even the church towers. Where they met, the sky split open and bodies sprinkled out as if poured from a pepper grinder. They both aimed at it, and after a count of three, cast.

The brother wands effect was the same as before, if not bigger. The light of the films faded for a split second as the clashing vanishing charms exploded.

That ought to prevent more Unmade from pouring out for a minute or two.

They then turned their wands onto the swaths of Unmade still on the ground and picked them off five by five while the many Aurors all cowered from the explosion in the sky above. Some regained their composure and joined the two of them in taking pot shots. Others were still a bit perturbed by what they just witnessed.

"Really?! What even are you two?!" They heard somebody yell, Arianna, Harry guessed.

"It's not as impressive as it looked!" Harry yelled back. "Now get back to the warding! We will take care of the Unmade in the other sections of the city."

They did not wait for a response, quickly apparating to the next section of the city. They repeated the process of abusing the timetwin wands – which were objecting more strongly to the treatment with each iteration – and were already on the verge of exhaustion. They did their best to keep the exploding vanishing charms away from populated areas, but this wasn't always possible.

They saw more than a few naked muggles and wizards alike running around after coming out of cover to find everything they owned obliterated, including the clothes from their backs. They wound up getting help combating the Unmade from a most unexpected source.

A roman legion, displaced in time, held a phalanx the size of a Quidditch pitch against the onslaught in one area. They were aided by three unmasked Death Eaters, among them Macnair and the Carrows, who were yelling out instructions and explanations in Latin, which wasn't such a dead language amongst wizarding purebloods. They seemed to be discovering the obvious fact that their modern Larin wasn't a one-to-one with the Latin spoken in Roman occupied England circa 5AC, but they were getting the job done.

They had at least gotten the memo to use vanishing charms.

Another section of the city had Knights yelling out war calls in French. Harry wasn't sure which French invasion they were members of, but considering they got all the way to London it had to have been Prince Louis' failed invasion. This was probably the cause of said failure, as losing this many knights and soldiers to a freak time anomaly meant fewer soldiers for the fight at hand.

Professors Filius and Sinestra, along with what looked like the entirety of Hogwarts' seventh year population, were out on the streets among them. One of the teachers recruited must have decided that the Unmade demanded a lot of backup to handle. Most of said seventh years were more preoccupied with rounding up the men displaced in time with stunners and binding charms than the Unmade, but they were still vanishing the nonbeings.

These two sections in particular had things well underhand without them, as did the Goblins who came out in full force, pouring out of Diagon Alley like a tsunami. And more wisards and witches filled the surrounding areas, from Aurors and Death Eaters to just random citizens of Wizarding Britain.

"This is a losing strategy." Harry eventually said.

Albus nodded in agreement.

"What do you propose?" He asked.

"We need to get to the source. We already know Voldemort is at the center of this, but possibly not responsible. Lucius, sorry, an unnamed Death Eater told me their dark mark didn't allow them to directly apparate to him like usual, but it did point them to Big Ben." Harry explained.

"Ah. The prime meridian, by which latitude and timezones are determined. The clock by which all other clocks are set. I see now." Albus said to himself. "Do you suspect the Unspeakables are involved?"

"To ask the question is to answer it." Harry admitted. "And I think we both know which one in particular."

"Hm. You handle Tom, I'll handle Alastor." Dumbledore decided for them. "How do we get to them? I tried with Fawks, but had no luck."

Damn. That was going to be Harry's suggestion.

"I think I can hack one of their dark mark's. With that done, I think I can apparate us directly to him." Harry said.

"What makes you think you can succeed where they failed?" Albus asked.

"Mostly that we have two elder wands, and I can tap into magic directly." Harry said in a non-explanation.

Albus opened and closed his mouth a few times, no doubt to ask for some clarification on that "tap directly into magic" thing. Instead, he nodded.

He offered his arm and Harry took it, spinning in place to take them back to whichever o'clock it was that Lucius had been. They arrived to discover they had things well under control.

A cage of what at first looked like electricity, but was some kind of crackling magical web, covered the tear from which the Unmade had been pouring out of. It must have taken a lot of cooperation to get that built, and now the group was just picking off stragglers that managed to squeeze through while others set up those impedimenta and reparo wards. Good division of labour.

Now where is Lucius?

"Lucius!" Harry called out.

The Death Eater in question turned at the sound of his name and Harry pointed to him.

"Ah! Made you look!" He teased. "Now get over here!"

Lucius handed off his work on a stone bench where he had no doubt been carving in one of the wards Harry had instructed before running over to him and Albus.

"What is it?" He demanded.

"I'm using your dark mark." Harry told him. "Hand it over quietly or I'll take it by force."

Lucius hummed in thought.

"You think you can apparate to him with it?" Lucius concluded.

"Right in one. Now put out your arm and grit your teeth, this is going to hurt." Harry told him.

The man hesitated, glancing down at his arm. Then, he took off his mask so he could look Harry in the eyes, before rolling up his sleeve to reveal the vibrant red mark.

Harry lifted up his own in return, showing off the scar from where Wormtail had sliced him open for that thrice-damned ritual. Both Lucius and Albus showed recognition in their expression, as all the signs of sacrificial magic were there.

Harry shook his head.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you all everything after this emergency is resolved. I mean it this time." Harry told them.

They nodded, and he knew they would hold him to it.

And so, he grasped Lucius on the forearm with his free hand and then pressed the elder wand against the knife scar on his own. He got started without any further deliberation.

"Also, will you be coming with Albus and I?" Harry asked Lucius.

"Fuck no! Any situation which requires the two of you working together, plus Voldemort, is not one I have any business being near." Lucius said, cussing for the first time since Harry had come to know him.

---

I really tried to delve into the thought process of a wizard in charge of researching time, time travel, and of course countering the misuse of such. What his philosophy would be, and especially how it would tie in with his religious beliefs.

I think I nailed it, if I made it a bit wordy. Usual disclaimer: These are the character's beliefs and my insane hypothetical ramblings trying to wrap my head around his perspective with as charitable of a depiction as I can manage. This character is definitely one of the stranger ones. Wait until you meet the other Unspeakables!

It's an interesting thought experiment. Thinking on the long term consequences of your actions as a butterfly effect. My Patrons had an ENORMOUS conversation about it and it was some of the best philosophy debate I've ever had.

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 45: Unspeakables Revealed​

---

"Tom!" He heard Hadrian yell out as soon as he and Albus appeared before him.

Voldemort did not look up from the time keeper to address them.

"What did you do?!" Dumbledore demanded.

"I don't know!" Voldemort said honestly.

"What. Did. You. Do!" Morrigan repeated.

" 't. Know!" Voldemort answered just as emphatically. "Ask that asshole!"

He indicated the former Unspeakable on the other side of the barrier of white light surrounding the trio.

The two turned to Marchbanks.

"Alastor?" Dumbledore asked in a disappointed voice.

"You have your ambitions, I have mine." Alastor's voice, muffled into a ringing sound by the barrier of light.

"Ambitions which have you working with Voldemort here?" Morrigan asked, comprehending the situation immediately. "Which I'm guessing you did just to spite my prophecy?"

"Prophecy?!" Him and Dumbledore both asked at once.

Voldemort's lapse in concentration was catastrophic. A thirteenth film erupted from the top of the timekeeper. This one flew straight up as a pillar of light, forming a tower instead of a dome as the others had.

"It was not a prophecy, it was merely a vision through a crystal ball. A true prediction, I might add." Said Marchbanks. "And as I'm sure you all know, aside from prophecies, all predictions have the potential to be self-defeating if told to the subject. The opposite of a self-fulfilling prophecy."

That's right. Minor predictions can serve more as warnings to avoid disaster than as an immutable portent of it. Unlike prophecies, which were immutable. As good as the word of God himself both to men like Alastor who believed in such, and just as equally to men like Voldemort who did not.

"I saw your fight with him, Tom. And that he would not join you." Morrigan explained.

Ah. And out of pure spite and scientific curiosity he went against the prediction. Voldemort could respect that.

"Well, seeing as we are separated by a full-blown time anomaly, we are at an ends." Said Marchbanks. "I cannot interfere with what you do in there, and you cannot harm me out here. I think I'll go ahead and hit the old, dusty road before you three remedy that problem."

"You must know I will be coming for you." Said Voldemort.

"Get a ticket and get in line." Said Marchbanks. "I do believe me and mine just declared war on the whole of the world. So don't flatter yourself. We aren't worried about you."

With that ominous warning, he apparated away.

"We?" Morrigan asked.

"I think you know the answer already." Albus said. "For a multitude of reasons."

Morrigan had the gall to wear an innocent expression as if he had no idea what Albus was talking about.

"So, what are you thinking?" Morrigan asked. "Impedimenta charm then flee before it blows up?"

"I would prefer to prevent the blowing up entirely. We shall do the vanishing charm trick again." Said Albus.

"Surely it's protected from the vanishing charm." Morrigan offered.

"Not well enough that the two of us together cannot overpower such enchantments." Albus countered.

"But we would wind up destroying Big Ben, and possibly some of the surrounding landmarks. I'm quite fond of the bridge." Morrigan argued. "And of having clothes on."

"What's all this abound destroying London's most famous landmarks and going on a public streaking trip?" Voldemort asked through the precipitous sweat going down his brow.

"Oh, we can create giant, overpowered vanishing charms through a brother wand effect." Morrigan explained. "Which should deal with both the time keeper and the central areas of the films, leaving us living creatures unharmed."

Their clothes and the ground they were standing on, however, would be another story. And it was a long fall to the ground.

"We ought to be able to charm our clothes to be unvanishable." Albus offered. "And pre-emptively cast arresto momentum on ourselves with a delay."

"That ought to work. I don't have confidence in our clothes surviving regardless, and I'm not looking forward to the indecent exposure charge, but it's a sacrifice I guess we'll just have to make." Morrigan said.

"Do charm mine as well, if you would both be so kind." Voldemort asked his new frenemies politely. "And yes, I realize we will have a reckoning once this disaster is dealt with, but we can do it with clothes on. I would prefer not to sexually arouse our headmaster here."

Dumbledore was not amused by the insinuation. Neither was Morrigan, who spoke up in his defense.

"A homophilia joke? Really? In this day and age?" Morrigan asked.

"I do believe it is nineteen ninety-six. I assume in the time you traveled from it is not an acceptable target of humor?" Dumbledore challenged him.

Morrigan laughed.

"Oh right. You're all still under the impression that I'm a time traveler. Well, I will dissuade you of that notion soon enough, but when I have the time to explain in detail. For now, let's skin this cat." Morrigan said.

Voldemort knew he was lying. He had to be. Voldemort needed to believe he was lying. Problem was, Alastor Marchbanks just confirmed his nature as a seer. Could it be he had been telling the truth this entire time and he was just as truly a gifted seer as he seemed? Word had gotten to him that he had some form of telemetry. A lot of his seemingly impossible knowledge could be explained through that. He just didn't want to believe it. There were too many impossibilities.

Hell, he still suspected Morrigan was his son, which made every interaction with him especially awkward. Voldemort was never the most socially savvy, despite what people claimed about his sociopathic charm. As such, he genuinely hated every one of their encounters.

This one less than most. So far, very straightforward.

"So… What exactly is the process here?" Voldemort asked

"We cast the vanishing charm at the object, together, then the vanishing charm goes boom." Morrigan explained. "It has a big enough radius to take out half a city block. So, it should take both the time keeper and the center point of the field."

Sounded like the best plan they were going to come up with to Voldemort. He nodded his agreement to the plan.

"My hands are a little full, but if I can help, let me know how." Voldemort offered.

Morrigan and Dumbledore shared a look before shrugging. The former then considered Voldemort again.

"Speaking of hands, could you shift yours a bit?" Morrigan asked.

Voldemort glanced between his now shaking hands and Morrigan.

"Not without great risk." Voldemort admitted in a great blow to his pride.

"Hmm. Okay, let me grasp it from below." Morrigan said.

Then, to Voldemort's abject horror, Morrigan reached beneath the time keeper and grasped it from the bottom. Then he felt it. Like being bodily tackled and then embraced by somebody else' magical aura. Morrigan enveloped him and the timekeeper with his own internal magic.

That wasn't telemetry. That was something entirely new to the study of magic. This man was a prodigy to rival, nay, surpass both him and Albus.

He really ought to kill the guy before he did so. Surpassing them, that is.

"Okay. I got it. Vanishing ought to work." Morrigan said.

He just did to the device what the sorting hat regularly did to eleven-year-olds. He completely read it, as if it had a mind. He understood its past, present, future and nature. Telemetry wasn't strong enough of a word to describe the ability he just felt Morrigan use. It was beyond anything Voldemort had ever experienced. It was new, it was powerful, and he wanted it.

Morrigan could be completely average, or useless, in every other regard, then with this ability alone surpass Voldemort. He was noticeably above average in most things.

His mind was already running through scenarios on how to end him as soon as the timekeeper crisis was averted, but he was certain they would both have reactions prepared ahead of time. He would need to flee and plan for that. He was too great a threat. Both to Voldemort personally and the world.

"Okay. Vanishing charm. Pick ourselves up. And then the real work begins." Morrigan said gazing out upon the destroyed capital city.

Oh yeah. That was still a thing that needed to be done. Goodbye statute of secrecy! And everybody was going to blame Voldemort for it. He was definitely responsible, but he didn't have to like the fact.

"Okay. Anti-vanishing charms?" Voldemort asked.

They cast the spells, both on their own clothes and on his.

"On three?" Morrigan asked.

"On three." Dumbledore confirmed.

"One." Said Morrigan.

"Two." Said Dumbledore.

"Three!" They said in unison.

Two vanishing charms collided between his and Morrigan's fingers. The man cast the spell with the hand he wasn't using to hold the sphere, and both men hit a bullseye.

The spells went boom, just like Morrigan promised, but he understated the gravity of said boom.

Voldemort felt the entire universe around him, air, stone beneath his feat and magical device in his hand, all disappear. He reached out for support and found Morrigan's hand reaching to grasp him for the same purpose. The man he had, just moments before, conspired to assassinate was now his lifeline and he his.

They held each other like allies instead of as enemies, and together they faded into nothing. They were nowhere. They were everywhere. They had never been and always were.

Simply put, they severely underestimated what the time keeper would do to them both by holding onto it and were both absolute morons for holding onto it.

---

Prophecy ducked beneath the marble pillar flung at her from the corner of the chamber.

This was a particularly difficult dodge, as gravity had decided to cease working as of late. Somebody, she suspected Life, whoever he or she was, had somehow turned the entire chamber of truth into an antigravity field. One in which they could all swim through the air as if it were water. It was impossible for any of them to fight in. Save for space who swam through it as if it were second nature.

Father time had significantly more difficulty in this unexpected terrain, but less than Prophecy did.

The hyperdecay barrier had long since been torn down, only to be rebuilt in a smaller form around father time while the rest of them got to fighting.

She once again felt the cutting curse remove her head from her shoulders, felt the blood drain from her body and death take her. So she ducked before the spell hit, averting yet another fated death.

"You two really have it out for me." Prophecy mocked.

Love had been gunning for her and solely her this entire time. Probably because of the two on one advantage and because they didn't want to tangle with Time. That and their domain, being the least predictable of all of the domains, made them a pretty bad matchup in theory. Prophecy had the advantage of not only battle precognition – which yes, was a thing, and she was eminently pissed off that Potter had revealed its existence to the world on a lark – and because they weren't breaking their oath.

The 'blue' magic(AN) as people called it, spells fueled by the lust, of the love of a man for his wife, of the devotion and deference of a wife to her husband. These were all terrifying things that these two delved in. And yet they weren't using it. Why? The oath stone was no longer holding them to their neutered state.

Maybe a sense of fair play? Since Prophecy's only abilities in combat really were stock standard spells.

And then they split apart into two like a bacterium. Man and wife were separated, and both bore down on her from either side.

Oh. So, they were trying to capture her. She was definitely the logical choice for capture between her, Space and Time. But they forgot who her friends were.

It was an impressive scissor attack they threw her way. With one on either side of her, even with her foresight telling her the conjured, animated rope of barbed wire was coming from one side and an incendiary sludge curse was coming from the other she couldn't dodge it.

Thankfully, gravity reasserted it's dominance just then and so both of their spells missed the mark as they all tumbled to the ground. They would have missed anyways because Space used one of their infamous switching charms. Switching charms were not supposed to work on human beings. Theirs did. Welcome to the department of mysteries! Here, the rules of magic need not apply.

Prophecy oomphed in a very unladylike way as she swapped places with somebody else.

She saw Life, bleeding profusely from a chest wound. Their unexpected ally, with that even more unexpected antigravity ward, was down to a knee.

What was taking Alastor so long!

No sooner did the complaint enter her mind than did she get her answer. Fright white waves of light flooded through them all. Like an absurdly overpowered patronus. They brought with them not feelings of joy and peace, but feelings of being stretched in all directions, of aging a thousand years and being a child again all at once.

It floored all of them, and Death proved to be an epileptic as he fell into a seizure from it. Was it weird that she actually felt worse about that than the whole trying to kill each other thing? Deliberately harming somebody she could live with, but accidentally? Heartbreaking.

When it was over, Prophecy knew their trial was over.

She felt the weight of the oath stone completely lifted. Not lifted and reapplied over and over again but gone.

Space was the first to get up, and when they removed their hood it was to reveal herself. Something that if she had done while the oath was still in place might have killed her. The woman breathed a deep, freeing breath and ruffled her shocking white hair.

"Well? I showed you mine, won't you show me yours?" Rolanda challenged, looking at her with those sharp, yellow eyes.

Georgia Shunpike removed her hood too and looked to Life and Time.

"Tofty?" Hooch said, surprised at Life's identity.

"I suppose I'm not much of a surprise?" Asked Mrs Marchbanks.

Actually yeah, she was. It seemed a little nepotistic for Alastor to pass the reigns onto his wife like that. She then quickly reapplied the hyperdecay barrier and the quartet of ladies retreated behind it just in time to avoid being incinerated.

"Hooch, how long until you can warp us out of here?" Shunpike asked the woman formerly known as Space.

"Right now." She whispered back.

Rolanda grasped her, Tofty and Marchbanks tightly.

"We will come for you! You have to know that!" The female half of Love yelled at them as she crouched over her unconscious partner.

"Get in line!" Tofty yelled back before reality faded away.

As much as she hated traveling through whatever warping technique it was Hooch invented, it was preferable to getting a South African necklace down here. So, she braced herself as they all ceased to exist, hopefully to reappear later. But that was never a guarantee.

---

Angus McKinnon picked himself up off of the cold hard ground to find the chamber of Truth full of less-than-faceless unspeakables.

Everybody had removed their hoods. And he did mean everybody. What's more, the cavalry had finally arrived. The remaining staff on site, those who hadn't fled when the oath stone was finally reverted, were there.

He was instantly overcome with a deep suspicion that any one of them could still be traitors.

Two people helped him to his feet.

"Up. Onto your feet songbird." A woman with shocking red hair told him as she helped him to his feet from his left shoulder as a man with an appearance more ancient than Albus Dumbledore took him up on his right.

He stared at the latter, trying to place his face.

"Barry Winkle." He introduced himself. "I'm in charge of the department of Happiness."

Ah. That ever elusive mystery. He turned to the woman with red hair. This one he recognized.

"Muriel Prewitt?" He asked.

She tapped her nose and smiled.

"But you died?" He said.

"So did you and your wife, supposedly, and yet here we all are. And please, call me Death." She insisted.

His wife! He felt so naked without her flesh bound to his. Without embracing her with every fiber of his being and her doing the same to him.

Before he could call out to her, she called out to the room.

"War!" Elspeth McKinnon declared.

Everyone turned to her.

She stood over the oath stone, a conjured knife in her hand.

"Our former colleagues have declared war. Not just on us, but on the world." His wife explained, and she slashed open her palm.

He felt every molecule of her skin separate through their connection.

"I will not rest, I will not dawdle, and I will not slow until I hunt them down. I swear it!" She said, pouring her life liquid onto the oath stone. "To war!"

The oath stone took it and bound both he and her.

God, did he ever love that woman.

---

AN) I recommend Counter Monkey, full stop. But to understand this reference check out the video "The OTHER Dirtiest Book in the Game".

Also, with this chapter we are all caught up with the patron exclusive chapters. You'll get another one in a month, unless somebody commissions me to make extra chapters for this story. And yes, I take commissions. About 25 dollars per one thousand words for fanfiction. 50 for original works or lewd fanfics. You can also become a patron for as low as zero dollars to get chapters early.

I also offer tutoring or consultation work for anything you're writing. 25 per hour.

To contact me about any of these services become a free patron and message me there.

NonsensicalRants

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 46:

The Search for Hadrian Morrigan​

---

"It has been mere hours since devastation met the city of London, but the reconstruction efforts are underway." Said the Muggle newscaster.

Rufus Scrimgeor, Minister of Magic for Britain, watched the television in an ear panic. He had been twitching and sweating all night as the entirety of the world governments ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. On both the Muggle and Magical sides.

Having the Prime Minister of the UK floo into his office instead of the other way around was a new experience.

He had tried a cold shower and a tumbler of scotch to calm his nerves. The latter sat, forgotten and useless, at the corner of his desk.

Now they sat together in the Prime Minister's office, watching the television.

"The official story is that a physics experiment led to a, and no I'm not kidding, a tear in the timespace continuum. End quote." The newscaster continued.

Well, that one wasn't a complete lie. Just a simplified explanation of it until the figured out how the hell they were all going to announce the existence of magic to the entire Muggle world. Speaking of.

"Okay, walk me through the main points of our announcement one more time." Rufus asked the Prime Minister.

He sighed before taking another sip from his coffee. Rufus could use a cup himself, but he was studiously avoiding the concoction as it tended to enhance anxiety. Neither of them needed more of that anymore.

"Magic is real. Wizards are real. They split off from the real world a millennia ago and have lived in their own separate, secret societies. We have always known about this and have respected each other's boundaries. Last night was a magical accident." The Prime minister summarized.

Right. And they should probably leave out all of the magical on Muggle – a word that would probably be considered a slur and need a replacement term soon enough – crimes in the past. And of course, the mountains of questions from conspiracy theorists on which of their obsessions was actually an act of magic but was covered. Answer? Almost all of them. Although a few of them were bizarre claims even by magical standards.

"No way was that a science experiment! There were witches out there man!" Some hippie on the newscast said.
He looked outright homeless. The newscast was no longer on the reporter but showing reels of witness testimony. It switched then to another.

"Oh yeah, those were witches." Said a woman. "They had wands and robes and wizard hats and everything. They shot lights out of their wands like bullets and where they hit strange things happened. They were transformed or erased from existence and stuff."

It switched to another.

"Poppycock! Those were demons. They had skulls for heads and black capes and everything." Said an old man.

It switched to a teenaged girl.

"There were led by like, this really hot guy and his grandpa. The grandpa was definitely a wizard. Robes and had and everything. And they both used sticks." She explained.

Fortunately, nothing was caught on camera. But the witnesses were numerous. It was possible that people wouldn't believe them.

"Do you reckon there is any chance at all of us recovering from this?" Rufus asked, almost pleaded.

The television screen changed to a view of the London Zoo. There, a semi-truck with a flatbed was transporting what at first looked like a dragon lashed down with bright yellow straps. It was a dinosaur. T Rex maybe? He didn't know his dinosaurs beyond what he'd seem in museums as a kid.

The creature looked to have been tranquilized

"I think I can qualitatively answer that in the negative." Said the prime minister.

Rufus banged his head on the table. He had somehow forgotten about the displaced beings in time. There was also still the matter of that French legion they needed to identify and return to france to then be given off to their descendants and eventually incorporated into society. That alone would be a logistical nightmare and imminent threat to the statute of secrecy. One straining their available resources.

They had at least a dozen such emergencies at once with nowhere near enough manpower to handle. And then there were the traitor Unspeakables on the loose who themselves demanded all of their resources to counter and eliminate, but they had none to spare.

"Senior Undersecretary Bones." Rufus asked.

Madame Bones stood at attention.

"I don't care what it takes, get Dumbledore, Voldemort and myself in the same room. We need to work together." Rufus ordered.

Amelia broke her usual stoic demeanor and looked at him questioningly. But she did eventually shrug, knowing full well that these extreme circumstances required extreme measures.

"Would you like me to also include Morrigan in that meeting?" She asked.

Rufus looked at her confused.

"Who?" He asked.

---

"This is team pink, we ave arrived at Nantes." Fleur called into her communication link. "Continewing search here."

Sirius Black returned to his dog form and ran off to follow his nose with that one-eyed Auror following after him. By now he was thoroughly familiar with both Morrigan and Voldemort's scent.

Fleur got to work as well, with the Narcissa woman aiding her. Together, they apparated in a complete circle around the small French city, placing ward stones hither and tither. A Death Eater went with Narcissa, one she suspected of being her husband, while the woman's sprog accompanied him.

For some reason he had brought along dousing rods, and whenever they stopped for her to place the ward stone he searched around with them. Each time he did they merely spun in his hands uselessly.

"Why do you use zose things? Zey are nonsense." Fleur told the young Malfoy.

Her fellow blonde shrugged, surprisingly unfazed by her present.

"Professor Morrigan didn't seem to think so." The boy said. "He taught me more in the few months I've had him as a teacher than most of my other teachers combined. And he taught me about these. If he had faith in them, so do I."

Fleur was to flabbergasted by the kids faith in the man to argue the pointlessness of his actions. So instead she finished setting up the ward stones and retrieved the small plastic bag containing hairs. Hairs that were retrieved from Professor Morrigan's bathroom. His brush, his shower drain, his sink drain. They collected it all.

She retrieved one hair and held her wand to the end of it. It caught fire and evaporated into ash. The nearest ward stone, and all other ward stones surrounding the city, also caught fire. Flames that were cold and unburning. They faded almost instantly.

Morrigan was not in this city either. Onto the next one. At this rate her team was doomed to search all of France to no avail.

---

"This is team Orange. Ve have finished searching Rotterdam." Viktor Krum said into his communication badge. "There is no sign of either Voldemort nor Morrigan."

he had already search most of Bulgaria throughout the day, and now that evening was fast approaching, he was search the Netherlands with a hodgepodge team of extremists and weirdos. Followers of Voldemort and Dumbledore alike. He couldn't tell which he found more distasteful. Followers of the current Dark Lord, or followers of the lover of the last one. He was leaning towards disliking the latter.

He was starting to suspect he may have become friends with a budding Dark Lord in the form of Hadrian Morrigan. He struggled to imagine the man as such. Then again, Dumbledore had failed to see such in Grindelwald.

"Okay, let's try another joke." Said the redheaded boy. "I mean, it's not like we're gonna find him under a rock!"

His companion, another Hogwarts student, jotted his words down.

"Vat are those two doing?" Viktor asked the Death Eater on their team.

"According to Professor Morrigan, that boy is a seer." Said the death eater. "Ironic precognition. His jokes tend to come true. So he's trying to make a prediction."

Viktor blinked at the skull-masked man.

"So... he's trying to force a prediction." Viktor concluded. "That vill never vork."

They watched as the two Hogwarts students went around levitating boulders as if they genuinely expected to find Morrigan beneath one.

He sincerely hoped his was the craziest and or dumbest team, because if the others were half as bad they would never find the missing power houses.

---

"Ennervate." Warbeck said, resuscitating one of the dozens of students fast asleep.

The students had come to her with an idea. To try and dream up where Morrigan and Voldemort had gone. They quickly returned the werewolf shelter into barracks with the help of the Weasley Twins. The place wasn't getting any customers anyway, as the entire planet was currently in shock and not a soul in magical Britain was leaving their homes.

Now she was doing the unexpected job of casting sleeping and waking charms on students in the hopes of farming dream visions. They were grasping at straws, but everyone was desperate enough to grasp at anything.

"Miss Brown, can you recall your dream?" Madame Warbeck asked the girl.

She blinked wearily.

"I... I dreamed of a vast nothingness. Almost kaleidoscopic expanses of white and silver." She explained.

Hm. Sounded like a nonsense dream. Unless Morrigan was trapped inside of a broken pensieve.

"Was Morrigan or Voldemort there?" She asked all the same.

"I... I don't know." Brown said honestly.

Another dud then.

"Are you ready to go back under and try again?" Warbeck asked.

"No ma'am." She said with a yawn. "I think I can manage it myself."

And sure enough, she rolled over and went back to sleep.

They'd been going at it since noon, and it was already almost dawn. That left them another twenty-four hours until they had to go back to the castle and class. Unless classes wound up having to be canceled.

---

Dumbledore watched as Ollivander leaned back in his chair, letting out a defeated breath.

"What?" Asked Bellatrix. "What was that supposed to do and what does it mean?"

Dumbledore was curious as to that too. Ollivander had retrieved an old, well-worn wand, placed int into a rune-carved bowl resembling an empty pensieve, and burned some herbs. Then the wand merely spun around randomly, letting out red sparks.

"Wands can be made to point at their partners." Said Ollivander. "This wand was Morrigan's first and longest used wand. He traded it with me for a newer version."

Newer version. Albus looked closer and felt his eyes narrow as he recognized it.

"That one is a phoenix feather core. One from Fawks." Dumbledore accused. "You promised to tell me if it chose a partner."

"No, I promised to tell you if it ever left my possession. It didn't." Ollivander said cheekily. "Morrigan traded an older version of the wand for a newer one."

Both Albus and Bellatrix shared a glance. That was the first real proof anybody had shared that the man was a time traveler. Hell, it was the smoking gun, unless you counted the duplicate Elder wand, which Albus almost couldn't. It was possible that whoever made his made more, or one of the many wandmakers who had studied it throughout history had made a copy. Barely possible, but possible.

It made sense that Hadrian would come to Ollivander with that proof. Garrick wasn't the gossiping type and the chance to study time twin wands would be enough to buy his loyalty. Let alone access to the Eldar Wand. The chance to research such would be enough to get Ollivander to do anything. It was a last resort Albus kept in mind if he ever needed to force the wandmaker to work for him, if things ever got that dire.

"Does that mean Morrigan is out of the effective range of this search ritual?" Asked Bellatrix. "Or that he's dead?"

"No to both. The effective range is essentially infinite. And it works on finding dead owners of wands too. It means he doesn't exist, or his existence is masked." Ollivander concluded.

Masking ones existence? That sounded like something a head Unspeakable of the Department of Mysteries might be able to manage. So, they must have both been captured by the new enemy. That or they were outright erased from the timeline.

"We need Hadrian Morrigan." Dumbledore said dejectedly. "We need him desperately."

---

Romulus got up from the ritual circle.

Lily, James and Remus were all unconscious on their parts of the diagram.

He walked over to a mirror and admired his messy black hair and vibrant green eyes. He pulled back his bangs to see perfectly smooth skin on his forehead, and wondered when he would get the scar.

"Romulus?" He heard his real mother call out.

He turned around to see her just waking up. Her words roused his dad and his... his other dad.

"No mum. Not anymore." He said, turning back to the mirror. "You said you were going to name me Harry right? Before you swapped me to Mrs Remus' womb?"

He saw her nod in the mirror.

"Well, don't call me that either." He said. "My name is Hadrian now. And I suspect I have a lot of work to do."

---

BEHOLD! My masterpiece! I incorporated all of the lessons I've learned from reading JK Rowling on how to produce a proper twist, having constantly foreshadowed it.

I've left TONS of hints about Romulus being the Harry of this universe. To the point two people had guessed it. I've even foreshadowed how he became Romulus in the first place. I hope the payoff was worth it.

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 47: The New Hadrian Morrigan​

---

Harry took his seat at the head of the table, while his family and extended non-blood relatives all took their seats. The basement where they had done the ritual a day before was freshly cleaned, refurbished, and warded against spying.

His mother, both of his fathers, his godfather and his dogfather looked at him expectantly.

"I need to take over my older selves' responsibilities." He declared. "I need to cover for him as the divination teacher and manage his assets. This is what I'm supposed to do. This is what he has been preparing for."

They all shared unconvinced glances.

"What makes you think he planned for this?" His mother asked. "Or that you're ready for this?"

He raised both hands to his face and made spirit fingers.

"Psychic!" He declared.

His mother, at least, had the decency to pretended to appreciate his sense of humor.

"But also because that's the only way to make sense of how he's been running things." Harry said. "Dad, er, Remus said I, er, Professor Morrigan kept overly detailed records of his classes and students along with his lesson plans for the future. Almost like he was preparing things to be taken over by somebody else."

Remus scratched his chin thoughtfully at that.

"He was rather zealous in doing that, yes. He's shared his lesson plans and documentation with the rest of us on the staff roll. We all told him it was a bit too detailed, down to the teaching styles he thought worked for different students." Remus explained. "I have to admit, it's so detailed that even another student could take over his classes."

"Exactly! Almost as if he expected somebody of a students age to take over for him." Harry explained, point two index fingers at himself. "And I'm willing to bet you he's done the same for his werewolf sanctuary. After all, he's been involving us in everything in a way that would make it easy for us to continue his work."

By now they were nodding along with his argument. He was getting to them.

"I mean, we could go so far as to just pretend you are him full stop." Said Peter. "Maybe use an aging potion so people can't tell the difference."

"It would never work." Lily said.

"It would be detected instantly, and I'm sure Dumbledore will punish the effort by turning him temporarily into an old man." James said. "As is traditional."

Yeah, traditional with parents wanting to keep their kids out of the liquor cabinet. His parents, blood and surrogate, were particularly good at keeping children out by virtue of their great skill and experience of breaking into places children ought to be kept out of.

Didn't stop him, or at least not for long, but he envied his peers who were not the children or Marauders.

"Okay then, that's out. What about polyjuicing as himself? I'm sure I could sneak into his quarters and get my hands on his hairbrush." Remus offered.

That could work. The stuff did last longer if you used it to polyjuice as yourself, though that was usually done by middle aged folks using hair from their teen years. Most witches collected and stored their own hair from their brushes for later life with this exact purpose in mind.

"Too pricy, and easily figured out." Peter shot down. "Especially with two potions masters on staff. And the market's so supervised that if we got all of our own ingredients and had Lils cook up all of our batches, somebody would catch on. Especially with the state of emergency the entire planet is in, every pencil pusher and beurocratic busybody will be going over every transaction with a fine toothed comb."

That brought Harry some relief. He'd tried polyjuice once before, when his mom wanted to retake some photos of him she'd lost from his infanthood. If he never drank that foul concoction it would be too soon.

"Then I just have to pretend that I was de-aged or something." Harry suggested.

"Definitely doable." Remus said. "Professor Morrigan was last seen battling a time anomaly after all. We can go so far as to claim your memories were rolled back to those of a seventeen year old too."

Harry liked that idea.

"So I need you guys to explain the last few years to me and pretend to only know that much?" Harry asked. "And what about divination? Am I qualified to teach that?"

"You only need to fake it until older you returns." His mother told him. "After all, if he's been preparing for this eventually then he knows you're up to the task. So you're definitely going to hit the books this weekend, but you'll do fine."

Harry wasn't so sure about that. He was terrible at faking. Hell, his mom found out about him and Hermione a week into his relationship to her apprentice. It was nice of her to pretend like she didn't know it was still going on, but that's how long their lie lasted. He thoroughly doubted his ability to keep up this facade for long.

"We would need either an Unspeakable, or somebody at least knowledgeable enough in chronomancy to vouch for this cover story." James said. "We don't want there to be any way for your new existence to be tied to us."

"Well, the Unspeakable of Time isn't going to help us out." Sirius said. "Either the former or current one."

This was true. They had just declared war on the world after all. And seemed particularly prickly towards Harry, er, Hadrian. He just realized that they were planning to put him in a position with a considerable amount of danger involved. Between the Unspeakables, Voldemort and his supporters, and of course Dumbledore and the Ministry who would both be much more inquisitive towards him now.

"I think I know a guy." Lily eventually said. "Somebody who owes me a favor."

"Somebody who will keep our secret?" Peter asked.

She nodded.

"And is respected enough to work as a character reference sufficient to stop questioning?" Sirius asked.

She nodded again.

"Somebody who takes as much joy as we do in picking on Dumbledore?" James asked.

"Ohhh, yes." She said, smiling wickedly.

---

Albus stared across his desk at his unexpected guests.

When Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel had floo'd him out of the blue to request a meeting with the promise that they had a gift for him, he didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't a Hadrian Morrigan de-aged to the state of a seventeen year old child. Let alone this hogwash story of theirs to go along with the find.

"And you say even his memories have reverted to those he had at that age?" Dumbledore clarified.

"Yes indeed." Said Nicholas, cheerily.

The boy looked the picture perfect definition of uncomfortable as he squirmed in his seat between the two master alchemists.

"We've had him for a couple days now, mostly confirming what had happened to him and trying to undo it. As you can see, we were unsuccessful in the latter." Said Perenelle.

Dumbledore sighed.

"And you two came upon him... how?" He asked, suspiciously.

The young Morrigan, who now bore such a striking resemblance ot Lily and James Potter that he couldn't believe Severus was the only person to recognize it, shrugged.

"We found him." Nicholas said. "It was easy, considering he is marked with a guardian mark."

That made Albus' jaw drop.

A guardian mark was something only a blood parent could place on a child, though could be tied to any adult, blood-related or not. It allowed the parent to apparated directly to said child, among other magical benefits. Theories abounded that Voldemort's Dark Mark was some perverted and enhanced version of it, but it strained belief. Not as much as the idea that Hadrian Morrigan was the son of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel.

"You are his guardian?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't appreciate your assumption that I did not bear him." Perenelle said challengingly, crossing her arms.

Albus groaned. While the woman opposite him looked like a witch in her forties, he knew better than to believe she could have been with child anytime recently.

"Okay! You got me. The baby making facilities haven't been working since before I was your age." Perenelle eventually said, returning to her usually jovial self. "We were his guardian. Past tense. But he's been all grown up for some time now. When he went missing we got desperate and tried reactivating the guardian seal. Imagine our surprise when it worked1"

Interesting. That was plausible. His mind whirred with possibilities.

His being raised by Nicholas and Perenelle explained why he was good at pressing both his and Voldemort's buttons.

It was also now clear that he was the son of Lily and James Potter.

He was painting a picture in his head. Lily hadn't lost the child, but performed one of the many surrogacy rituals out there. Transferred the baby from her womb to another womans, possibly even Perenelle's. He imagined she would have been overjoyed to do that.

Then they'd merely raised him in secret.

That didn't explain why he had been too old before. Either Nicholas and Paranelle had been giving him the Morgan Le Fey treatment and hyperaged him, or he was still a time traveler after all, and now he knew the story of where he came from?

If such were the case, then that meant...

Two! There were Hadrian Morrigans. This one was the real one. The other was the time traveler and was still missing.

As much as he respected Nicholas and Parenelle Flamel, their tendency to screw with him was outpaced only by the Marauders and their wives tendency to do the same. And he sensed their involvement in this little prank as well.

Now he knew they'd been involved this entire time, and he'd make sure there was hell to pay.

For now though, he'd play along.

"Well, I can finally call of the search for you. Those freed up resources can be devoted to hunting down the traitor Unspeakables before they make their next move." Dumbledore said, tacitly admitting that he didn't care if Tom Riddle was ever found.

"What about Tom Riddle?" Perenelle asked. "He may be needed in this time of crisis, and if there's a teenaged one of those running around that could cause more problems."

Riiiiiight, he was supposed to be buying this poppycock story of them being de-aged.

"I think his followers are covering hte search for him." Dumbledore said. "But I can have it be priority number two for all of my Order to be searching for Tom. After whatever new tasks they can be put on."

Nicholas clapped his hand.

"Wonderful! And do you have any further questions for us, or can we get to work helping with the Unspeakables dilemma?" He asked.

Albus had to think on that one. What to ask so as to not seem like he was onto them?

"Do we know how long it will be until he reverts back to normal?" Albus asked.

Nicholas sighed.

"I would like to imagine it will happen on its own, but I have no reason to believe that." He said. "I will continue to search for a way to restore him. But we may just be stuck with him like this."

The boy shrugged again.

"I'm mostly just here because of the contract. I probably should be in the accidental magic ward, but something tells me they wouldn't be much help. And I think I'm needed here." Hadrian told him. "I may not be as a desireable staff member or ally in this battle as older me was and will be again, but I would be more help within these walls than out."

Albus nodded.

"Well, let's make sure the contract is still in effect for you." Albus said.

He reached into the bottom left drawer of his desk, where he kept copies of the magical contracts for his faculty, and found Hadrian's at the front. The first sign that the man was still alive, for Albus at least, was the contract still being in effect. He could always check on if his colleagues were alive by tapping their contracts with his wand. It came in handy more often than he cared to admit.

He handed the contract to the young man after tapping it with his wand, and it lit up at his touch.

"Well that's confirmation enough for me. You are Hadrian Morrigan." Albus declared. "And you are still on the payroll. I'll make sure to send somebody to refresh you on the rules, laws and other technicalities of working here."

There was a knock at the door.

"Speak of the devil! There he is now." Albus said jovially. "Come in!"

The door opened and in walked his substitute potions master. He visibly struggled to not look at and stare at the two alchemists in the room.

"You called for me, headmaster?" Professor Snape said.

"Yes. I called you in here to inform you that you are fired." Albus said with a cheerfulness that to most wouldn't seem appropriate for what he just said.

Severus, predictably, held both hands in front of his face as if he were praying, before looking straight up into the sky with an expression resembling salvation. He mouthed the words "thank you" to the sky before putting his hands back down to his side.

"So. How long until Lily comes back to take over?" Severus asked.

"I expect her to call upon me by the end of the day. In the meantime, if you wouldn't mind reboarding Mister Morrigan, who has suffered a chronomancy accident and reverted to his seventeen-year-old self, that would be most appreciated."

Severus glanced at the young man, before sharing a knowing look with Albus.

"I see. And has Mister Morrigan been reverted just physically?" Severus asked.

"Mentally as well." Hadrian said.

"Interesting. You are going to be easy picking for your students." Severus said with a malicious grin.

Morrigan gave him a malicious grin in return.

"We will see about that, won't we?" Morrigan said challengingly.

"Right. Off you trot!" Dumbledore ordered.

The new teacher and former teacher both fled from his classroom together and Albus caught the faintest whispers of their antagonistic barbs as they left. With that done, he turned on Nicholas and Perenelle.

"Will you take Severus under your wing?" He asked.

---

This concludes day 1 of my five days of Christmas gifts to you, all, my fans. 1 Chapter of Magic Knows No Boundaries per day.

I'm doing this because 2025 is the year I finish all of my stories. All of them. 1 story per month, plus recording audio versions of it. Under condition my patrons support me. If all of them bump up to the ten dollar per month range we are golden and I can write full time. If we fail to hit that goal, I'll just start writing my original novels I think.

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