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1Harry Potter and the Philologer's Stone
2
3Summary: Harry Potter was a boy who lived under the stairs in a cupboard, and had no friends. One day, a giant man appeared and changed everything. Updates Tuesdays 
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7Chapter 1
8
9The old man—hands shaking—touched the book and said, "I'm looking for a story about a man looking for stories…" he closed his eyes, and turned to a page.
10
11Harry Potter is an unremarkable child. One would think that living under the stairs in a cupboard would find its way into everyday conversation, but Harry does not have any friends, so it doesn't. Even the mystery, intrigue, and downright improbability of a cactus-shaped scar running across his forehead would usually draw the occasional lingering eye—the offhand comment—but it doesn't. Not for Harry. Because he lives in a cupboard under the stairs. And he does not have any friends.
12
13Harry's unremarkability does not, it seems, arise from any particular lack of CuriousQuality. For sure, Harry is chock full of that. More accurately, Harry simply never has the opportunity to be remarked upon. Because he lives in a cupboard under the stairs. And, well, he does not have any friends.
14
15He places his palm on his door, and gives it a gentle nudge. A sliver of light illuminates his meager living space—books and rumpled sheets—a long since burned out bulb hangs, still. The walls are bare, save for old maps torn from fantasy novels, pinned in place with used staples. Usually, Harry wouldn't be so daring to take a peek in the daylight hours, but Uncle Vernon is, to put it mildly, making a ruckus.
16
17"NO SOLICITORS." he screams, slamming the door for the fourth time that afternoon. A crucifix rattles askew by the door.
18
19Harry can't see, but he hears muffled protestations from the other side of the door. The front door windows look to be in shadow, despite the apparent midafternoon sunlight pouring over the spotless kitchen across the hall.
20
21Uncle Vernon turns, scowling, and lumbers past the stairwell. His hand slams the cupboard closed.
22
23"Closed, boy!"
24
25Harry counts to ten in his head, and then pushes the door open again. The shade in front of the door diminishes suddenly, and light returns. Curious.
26
27"CLOSED!"
28
29Harry jumps, as his uncle slams the cupboard shut once again.
30
31"What do we say about repetition, boy?" the lock rattles into place. Harry frowns. No dinner tonight, then. He climbs back onto his sleeping mat, and grabs one of the books he's read a hundred times.
32
33The afternoon passes without too much fuss. Occasionally, Harry hears the sing-song voice of his aunt from the kitchen, usually opposite a baritone grumble from his uncle. Eventually, the earthy scent of potato soup wafts to the stairs, and Harry's mouth begins to water. But he waits, silent, except for the occasional crinkle of a turned page.
34
35Chairs screech across tile, and plates clatter. Harry jumps at the sound—stirred awake from a nap? Supper must be done. He picks the book up from where he'd dropped it. A fresh crease runs along the first hundred or so pages. He sighs.
36
37A sideboard near his pillow creaks aside, and a plump hand holds out a bread-roll.
38
39"I'm sorry Harry,"
40
41"It's okay, Dudley," Harry takes the roll. The hand disappears.
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43"He—he knows it's your birthday. I'm sorry."
44
45Harry nods, as his cousin puts the board back in place.
46
47If Harry thinks about it—really thinks about it—drawing his mind's eye to that uncomfortable knot of pain halfway piercing his stomach and heart, he knows this wasn't how children are supposed to live. He knows that something is broken. That his uncle is broken. That his aunt is broken. That even his cousin is broken. And most of all, he knows that he himself is broken. But it's the sort of crack that slips out of your mind, if you don't keep it in focus. It settles into a sort of normalcy.
48
49And so Harry doesn't dwell on it. He reads his books, he keeps to himself, and he even takes the occasional pity-scrap of food from Dudley—compressing that painful knot into a space so small that he can barely feel that it's there. It allows him to have days like today—where he doesn't really feel much of anything at all.
50
51The front door rattles furiously on its hinges.
52
53His uncle screams—continuously—as he stomps to the front. The cupboard rattles as he passes, and Harry can barely make out a "—NOSOLICITORSNOSOLICITORSNOSOLICITORS—" in his uncle's furious wail.
54
55Then, there's a wet crack, and Harry's room explodes.
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57Harry's ears ring, head aches, and body buzzes. And he's covered in wood splinters. He looks around, in a daze. His aunt is…screaming?
58
59The cupboard door is mostly pulverized. White and red chips puncture the surface, kind of like a dartboard. Actually, most of the living room is covered in the red and brown and white shards. Harry, dizzy, peeks out of his hole and surveys the space.
60
61A positively gigantic man stands at the epicenter of a cone of devastation, next to a red smear and what used to be the entry-way to the house. He holds himself delicately, as if trying to avoid breaking anything, and actually manages to look apologetic, despite his massive beard and grizzled features.
62
63"'Woz jus' tryin' ta open tha door…" the giant trails off as he spots Harry. Aunt Petunia screams, continuously.
64
65"Bugger me, tha tabloids're true." The giant steps—carefully—over the red smear, flicks his hand at Aunt Petunia, and she crumples to the ground, silent.
66
67"Sorry ‘Arry, been tryin' ta reach ye. Yar uncle thar is…eh…woz quite tha…ehh. Hmm," the giant trails off, concern crossing his brow.
68
69Harry feels a twinge in his neck, and touches it. It's slippery—wet—like something is protruding? With motion not fully matching his alarm, he paws at his chest, which is also wet. He touches the protrusion again, with his other hand, and passes out.
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71
72
73Chapter 2
74
75The cellar creaked open as he considered the question. Then he laughed—he laughed and laughed. "Cost?" he stepped down into the dark. "It's worth everything that could ever be."
76
77Harry awakens to the all-encompassing sensation of safety and wellbeing. Which is his first indication that something is utterly, horribly wrong.
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79He's alone, in a great stone hall. Row upon row of roll-out hospital style beds line each wall. Warm light streams through windows between each bed, covering everything in a soft glow. The otherwise hard-angled stone walls, ceiling, and floor appear welcoming and soft in the ethereal light. Two rows of beds to his left, occupying the entirety of one wall, stretches a metal door, and fifteen rows to his right is a canvas partition. The canvas is only a couple meters tall, though—far shorter than the ceiling. Harry can see that the hall seems to extend significantly beyond the 'wall' of canvas, off into the far distance.
80
81Harry stands, touching his neck. The skin is smooth—unblemished. Curious. The floor is warm, too, like stepping on the dirt around a summer campfire. Not that he's ever been camping. Or sat next to a fire. The action of stepping on it nonetheless presses the idea into his thought. Not obtrusively, though—a gentle shove—a forced reminder. He pushes the thought out of his head and rubs a temple. He lingers to the window adjacent his bed, and his jaw drops.
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83The castle is enormous to the point of being nausea-inducing. Where the interior buzzes with warmth, the exterior evokes…hostility. It looks cold and sharp and forbidden. If he focuses his eyes on any individual turret or parapet for too long, the features in his peripheral vision seem to shift, drawing his eyes away, as if the castle is continuously slowly rotating, just out of view. Even the decorative gargoyles seem to be moving—always a meter or two off from where they last seemed to be. He focuses on the closest one, for some point of reference, and it turns its head, locking eyes with his.
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85He yelps, tripping backwards to the ground.
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87Panic rising, he hears echoes from the other side of the door, as someone approaches.
88
89"Nope." Harry says, standing. He sprints to the canvas curtain, and tears it aside. The hall beyond has the same sort of disorienting wrongness as the castle, even though it's covered in that warm, welcoming glow. It also genuinely doesn't appear to end—beds upon beds line each wall out to the vanishing point in the infinite distance. He swallows, and sets off down the hall.
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91After fifty or so bed's worth of distance, he hears the metal door creak open. The echo reverberates down the hall. It occasionally echoes back and forth, until the sound is wholly swallowed by the unending passage. Harry slides to a stop, darts behind a bed, and peeks back towards the canvas. He hears voices, but they're featureless in the muted echoes.
92
93"A rude awakening, hm?"
94
95Harry screams. Spinning, he slides backwards across the floor crabstyle. Behind him, by the window is an ancient man. He has the ambiance of a wizened professor—all tweed coat and proper—but from a decades old style. He seems bemused, but his eyes are deadly serious.
96
97"W-what?"
98
99"Three times my boy, and this is the first. While I wish it had been later, we'll have to make due. Can't change the terms," he smiles, sadly.
100
101"Don't trust the old man. Learn as much as you can. Don't pay too much attention to the nonsense about souls—they're deeply confused minds flailing for some semblance of order in an orderless world. And most important of all, befriend the librarian. Goodbye Ho—,"
102
103"Mister Potter!"
104
105Harry spins. A matronly woman wearing a hat with a red cross looks down upon him. Harry looks back to the window, and the ancient man is gone.
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107"What…what is going on! Who are you!" Harry, scoots further away from the woman.
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109Her face softens, "Ah," she says. "Everything is going to be alright Mister Potter,"
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111"That really doesn't answer any of my questions!" Harry stands, keeping his distance.
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113"My name is Madame Pomfrey. I am the school nurse. You've been in an accident, but there was no lasting damage done, although I imagine it may have been…Mister Potter?"
114
115Harry continues stepping backwards slowly, turns, and breaks into a run. A sudden bone rattling-crack knocks him to his feet, and in front of him stands a ridiculously ancient looking man. Where the curious professorly fellow had been old and wrinkly, the new man looks to carry the weight of millennia. His robes sag, and his hat—once pointy in a bygone era—dips below his shoulders.
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117"Harry—," he says, reaching out with a gnarled hand.
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119Harry hyperventilates, scooting back towards the nurse-looking woman—Pomfrey?
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121"Harry, everything is going to be okay. You're in a safe place now. Possibly the safest place there is," the wizened man smiles. His teeth are grey and black. Harry hyperventilates faster.
122
123"Albus, this really isn't working," the woman sighs.
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125The old man—Albus?—frowns, and a stick appears in his hand. He flicks at Harry, and then there is darkness.
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127Harry awakens again, in a panic, but he's alone. He's in a completely different room—stuffier—his bed but an alcove in a wall. Wood-paneled all around, it smells like old books, probably from the wall composed entirely of dusty novels at his feet. Light trickles in from a small, circular window, and a ladder leads to a basement—or maybe storage for more books? Harry edges to the window and looks out. He sees a generic forest, and the dull, grey, uninviting sky that can only be Britain.
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129Harry turns and runs a hand along the wall of books. Alphabetical. He nods, approvingly. He locates the sci-fi novel he had been reading at home and slides it out. But he freezes. And blinks. A crease runs along the first hundred or so pages.
130
131A door—or rather, a wall he hadn't even realized was a door—rattles with a gentle knock. Harry jumps.
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133"Y-yes?" he says, retreating to the alcove-bed. Drawing the sheets around himself, he eyes the escape ladder to the basement.
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135"I apologize Mr. Potter, it seems we have begun entirely with the wrong boot, so to speak. May I open the hatch?"
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137"Um yes, but please don't come in," Harry says.
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139The door rattles again as the old man slides a hatch aside. Harry can only see the side of his face, in profile.
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141"H-how did you get my books!" Harry almost yells.
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143"Ah," says Albus. "Well, I did not get your books. If I had to wager, the room did. But that probably does not answer your question either, now does it?"
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145Harry's grip of his book tightens.
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147"What is actually going on! Is…is my…is Uncle Vernors…? Where am I!"
148
149The old man heaves a great sigh, and collects himself.
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151"Harry, when most people first learn that magic exists, they are stunned—flabbergasted—knocked to their britches, if you will. But learning that magic exists does not really answer any question. It raises more and more. That is something of a recurring theme of magic, you will learn,"
152
153"The castle-was moving? That was magic?"
154
155"Ah, yes. The castle has something of a mind of its own," Albus smiles to himself.
156
157"But, more importantly, learning of the existence of magic is like a peeling of the bandaid. This expression makes sense to you, yes?"
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159"Yes, sir, I think."
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161"It is sudden—shocking!—but the shock fades rather quickly, and it becomes the new normal. Like being told that everything is made of atoms, say. It's another true fact about the universe. Like electricity. Or those points of light in the night sky being yet more stars just like our sun."
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163"To be honest, sir, I don't completely follow. And…I think you still have not answered my question."
164
165"Indeed." He says. Then, again, "Indeed. Harry, your uncle…" the man trails off.
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167Harry's heartrate jumps, and tears fill his eyes.
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169"Harry—," he pauses. A pipe appears in his hand, and he takes a deep puff. Then shakes his head. He continues:
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171"Harry, your uncle doesn't have a soul."
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173Harry stops. He blinks a tear away, "Wait, what?"
174
175"Nor your aunt nor cousin. Nor anyone you knew, I think. It's a different sort of shocking, for sure," the old man continues, "Magic? It's a familiar sort of fantastical, but souls? Much heavier stuff. Many muggle-folk never really seem to get over the fact when they first learn it. They refuse to believe it, even!" the old man is rambling now.
176
177"Wait, sir, my Uncle is okay?"
178
179Albus pauses. He swivels the pipe around in his mouth, and blinks.
180
181"Heavens, my boy, you thought your uncle was dead?"
182
183"Y…yes!" Harry cries, relieved—, "I saw, he was—the giant man—there was an explosion!"
184
185"Goodness no, Harry. Poor Hagrid couldn't kill a man, even one as foul and as, well, soulless as your uncle. It was rather unpleasant though, I imagine. I believe Hagrid accidentally swapped most of the front of your foyer, including your Uncle, with a pocket of space comprised entirely of highly compressed bovine viscera. You'll learn more about that in your third year, I suspect…" Albus trails off, lost in thought. As if suddenly remembering something, he continues:
186
187"Anyway, it's important, Harry, to understand how our world works. You will see many a fantastical, magical thing at this school, but few will talk about the soulless with anything other than derision. Most will not talk about them at all. It is not fair, but it is the way things are," Albus frowns.
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189Harry realizes he has more than a thousand additional questions at this point, but one in particular seizes his thoughts:
190
191"How do you know—that muggle-folk? Don't have souls?"
192
193"Because I've seen heaven," said the old man, sorrowfully.
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195
196
197Chapter 3
198
199"It was a joke, my boy. That's all it ever was. It was a joke made flesh."
200
201The old man paused, lost in thought again, then, with vigor, "Anyway! That's enough heavy business for now, I think. To answer one of your earlier questions, this is Hogwart's. It is a school for Wizards and Wekka. Should you agree to attend, which I very much hope you do, you will find it to be the preeminent magical education institute in the world,"
202
203Harry's head spins. None of this makes any sense, and he feels…suffocated. Ironically, it doesn't help that the walls seem to be expanding around him, barely slow enough to notice.
204
205"I can go home?"
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207The old man clearly didn't expect that. He plucks the pipe from his mouth, brow furrowed, "Of course Harry, you can go home any time you wish. But, do you really want to?"
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209Harry can hear it in the way the old man says it—that he knows what that entails, that he can see the crack in Harry's home life. Harry winces.
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211"I…another man. An old, um, professor. I saw him back at the hospital. He told me not to trust you,"
212
213Albus freezes, and then thinks for a long time—probably a solid minute of silence. Then, "That is peculiar," he sucks on his pipe, and puffs in contemplation.
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215"Well, you have me at a disadvantage. It is more sage advice than I could ever give. More honest. Hmm," he puffs again.
216
217"I don't suppose it would help to tell you we have magic to establish trustworthiness?" Albus asks, rhetorically, "No, no, the boy doesn't have any reason to trust magic. More reason to distrust it, in fact. Hmm," the smoke curls around his face in wispy knots.
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219"But…" Harry starts, and the old man looks at him, direct.
220
221"…he also said to learn as much as I can. And to, um, befriend the librarian?"
222
223Albus cocks his head to one side, "Well that's positively mysterious, now isn't it? Though I do have suspicions regarding who the 'librarian' might be," he winks.
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225Harry draws the sheets closer. The room has nearly doubled in length—doubling the distance between Harry and the strange old man. At the same time, the walls and ceiling have crept inwards, almost protectively.
226
227"I think I'd like to go home now," says Harry.
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229Albus frowns, but nods. "Very well, Harry. The ladder there will take you back to your home. I don't know if I can gain your trust—I think trust can only really be earned, and I have certainly done nothing yet to earn it. But should you change your mind, simply tap this to your fingertip and say 'Hogwart's'," in a flourish, Albus produces an ornately carved stick, and places it on the ground by the door.
230
231"Farewell, Harry," he says, sadly.
232
233"Goodbye, sir." The hatch slides closed, and Harry is alone.
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235Harry's stepped down the ladder, past rows and rows of books, and, after a wave of disorienting nausea, found himself in the middle of his room. The hole in the ceiling closed noiselessly as he regained his balance.
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237The room is much as he left it—books scattered about, sheets a bit disheveled. Even the novel, creased pages and all, sits by his bed, propped up against the wall as he'd left it. There's no trace of the explosion—the cupboard door is intact, and even unlocked.
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239Harry presses his ear against the door and listens, but there is only silence. Sunday service perhaps?
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241He creeps out, and turns the ornate stick around in his hands. Runes cover the surface, and one end is wrapped in leather or cloth—it's too worn to tell.
242
243"Hm," Harry says. He paces through the foyer—intact and spotless—through to the kitchen. A single bowl of soup sits on the counter with a note.
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245Potatoes and cheese. Your favorite Happy Birthday. Love, Aunt Petunia.
246
247He smiles, and slides it in the microwave oven. While it heats, he sits at the table, and places the stick in front of himself.
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249"Hogwart's, huh?" he twirls it on the table.
250
251"Have I gone completely mad?"
252
253YES THAT IS CERTAINLY A POSSIBILITY.
254
255He jumps to his feet.
256
257OR, MORE LIKELY, THE EXPLOSION WAS FROM AN IRISH SEPARATIST'S BOMB. YOU KNOW YOUR UNCLE IS POLITICALLY ACTIVE. MOST LIKELEY, YOU ARE CURRENTLY IN A COMA, HAVING BEEN UTTERLY OBLITERATED BY THE ERUPTION, AND THE PAST FEW HOURS ARE YOUR MIND'S WAY OF GRAPPLING WITH THE INCONCEIVABILITY OF ITS IMMINENT ERASURE.
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259The stick slowly stops twirling on the table.
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261THAT IS TO SAY, IF I HAD TO WAGER, INSANITY AND COMA-DREAM-LOGIC ARE APPROXIMATELY EQUALLY LIKELY. QUITE UNLIKELY, IN RAW TERMS, BUT COMPARED TO SUDDENLY DISCOVERING THE EXISTENCE OF A MAGICAL REALM RUNNING PARALLEL AND SEEMINGLY INDEPENDENT OF EVERYTHING YOU KNOW TO BE TRUE, CONSIDERABLY MORE PROBABLE.
262
263"The stick is talking, isn't it?" Harry says to the room, frowning.
264
265I AM NOT A STICK, MASTER POTTER, I AM A WAND. MORE PRECISELY I AM YOUR WAND.
266
267"And you can talk to me…because you're a magical wand?"
268
269IT WOULD BEHOOVE YOU TO TAKE THE OLD MAN'S LESSON'S TO HEART. THAT I AM MAGICAL IS NOT AN EXPLANATION FOR WHY I CAN TALK. IT IS LIKE SAYING A BIRD CAN FLY BECAUSE IT HAS FEATHERS. IT IS FAR FROM A COMPLETE EXPLANATION, AND IN FACT MISSES THE POINT ENTIRELY.
270
271"Are most magical wands as prickly as you?"
272
273YES.
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275Harry snorts. "So I'm crazy then?"
276
277OR YOU ARE IN A COMA, YES, PROBABLY.
278
279"Okay, fine, then how can you talk?"
280
281HOW DID YOU LEARN TO TALK?
282
283"I..learned over a few years I guess?"
284
285SO DID I.
286
287"That isn't a complete explanation either!"
288
289YOU'RE CATCHING ON. GOOD.
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291Harry clenches his teeth, and grabs the stick.
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293"Alright, fine, we're going to the park. Before my Uncle gets home," he shoves the stick in a pocket.
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295THAT IS NOT ADVISABLE.
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297"Why!" Harry yells, throwing up his hands.
298
299BECAUSE YOU ARE BEING HUNTED.
300
301
302
303Chapter 4
304
305The old man froze, suddenly aware that he was being watched. "Even here?" he asked. He turned to look at you. "Of course it wouldn't be fair. Hah, of course!" and he disappeared.
306
307At this point, Harry is simply tired. His surprisal—as it were—is exhausted. It's not that the stick isn't provoking an emotional response—to the contrary, Harry swims in an ever-present mixture of anxiety and horror, but it's a familiar exhaustion. No worse, say, than seeing a gargoyle, or running down an infinitely long hall.
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309"What?!" he says, more annoyed than concerned.
310
311DID THE OLD MAN NOT TELL YOU ABOUT THE PROPHECY? AH.
312
313Creeping into the bubbles of anxiety, fear, and nausea, Harry has the overwhelming sensation that something is standing behind him, staring at the base of his neck, about to pince and tear him to shreds. He spins, but nothing is there.
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315AH. I SEE. I HAVE JUST READ YOUR MEMORIES. EVERYONE SEEMS TO HAVE DONE A TERRIBLE JOB OF THIS. I AM SORRY.
316
317"Is there someone here? Are they, what is—what's hunting me! What prophecy!"
318
319YOU ARE SAFE IN THE HOUSE. YOU ARE MAGICALLY PROTECTED HERE. UNFORTUNATELY, AFTER YOUR MOST RECENT BIRTHDAY, MUCH OF THE MAGICAL WORLD BECAME AWARE OF YOUR LOCATION, DUE TO THE TERMS OF A LONG STANDING COURT ORDER FINALLY EXPIRING.
320
321"Why didn't the crazy old man tell me that before he sent me back?!"
322
323POSSIBLY HE FORGOT. POSSIBLY HE SUSPECTED I WOULD TELL YOU. POSSIBLY HE SURMISED IT WOULD BE BETTER TO ALLOW A TRAUMATIZED BOY TO LEAVE THE STRANGE PLACE TO WHICH HE HAD BEEN KIDNAPPED WHILE UNCONSCIOUS RATHER THAN ATTEMPT TO CONVINCE THE BOY TO STAY, EVEN IF HE FELT THAT THE BOY WOULD BE SAFER AT HOGWART'S.
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325Harry's darting between the windows of the house, looking at each one in turn in a frantic circuit.
326
327"Okay, um, okay fine, but, then…so who's hunting me?!"
328
329THOSE THAT WISH TO BRING ABOUT THE RISE OF VOLDEMORT—HE—WHO—MUST—BE—NAMED.
330
331"What is a Voldemort—" but Harry's tongue was seized, and entirely out of his control he continued, if in a strangled tone, "he—who—must—be—named?" and fell to the ground, clutching his throat.
332
333VOLDEMORT—HE—WHO—MUST—BE—NAMED IS THE MAN WHO KILLED YOUR PARENTS. IN SO DOING, [classified], OCCURRED AND HE WAS DEFEATED. HIS FOLLOWERS BELIEVE THAT DESTROYING YOU IS A PRECONDITION FOR THE RETURN OF THEIR LEADER. GIVEN THE TERMS OF THE PROPHECY, THIS IS NOT A TERRIBLE GUESS.
334
335"What. Is. The. PROPHECY?" Harry yells, making his fifth circuit around the house.
336
337IT'S [classified].
338
339The wand's description of the prophecy slips out of Harry's mind—Harry can tell the words are English, and that they're syntactically…not wrong? Inasmuch as magical words make any sense in the first place, he can tell the wand is describing the prophecy, and that the description is correct. He just cannot actually surmise any of the content, whatsoever.
340
341"I…didn't understand any of what you just said."
342
343THAT IS BECAUSE THE CONTENTS OF THE PROPHECY ARE CLASSIFIED.
344
345"But you know the prophecy?"
346
347YES.
348
349"And you just explained it to me?"
350
351YES.
352
353"But I can't understand it?"
354
355YES. YOU'RE PICKING THIS UP QUICKLY. I AM PROUD TO BE YOUR INSTRUMENT.
356
357Harry's tempted to snap the stick in half, as he makes his seventh circuit around the house.
358
359YOU DO NOT NEED TO DO THAT. YOU ARE CONCEALED SO LONG AS YOU STAY HERE.
360
361"I don't…I can't. I can't stay here! I get one day a week! One day a week when they're gone, and I can go to the park, and sit on the swing, and just and just and just swing," tears fill Harry's eye.
362
363The stick remains silent, as Harry collapses onto a sofa. Harry hears the rumble of the garage opening.
364
365"And now…and now it's too late. They're already back. And I haven't even eaten yet. And…" Harry begins to hyperventilate again.
366
367"It wasn't okay, but it was—it was stable! And this magic stuff messed it all up, and I just—I just…" Harry jumps as the backdoor slams open.
368
369"Boy!" roars his uncle.
370
371MASTER POTTER, PERHAPS A BIT OF PERSPECTIVE.
372
373"Boy, where are you!"
374
375IN A JUST WORLD, WHICH THIS ONE MOST CERTAINLY IS NOT, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN TAKEN FROM YOUR UNCLE A LONG TIME AGO, AND PLACED SOMEWHERE BETTER.
376
377"You've left trash on the table, boy!"
378
379AND IN THAT BETTER PLACE YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO RECOGNIZE THAT THIS IS NOT, TO USE YOUR WORD, 'STABLE'.
380
381Harry's uncle rounded the corner—red faced, scowling.
382
383"On the sofa then? The sofa your Aunt just cleaned? Off, boy!" he screamed. Harry lay, curled in a ball. His uncle grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet.
384
385"No," says Harry, and a solid bubble of light knocks his Uncle across the room. Uncle Vernors looses a strangled scream as he struggles back to his feet, and charges Harry.
386
387"No….no no no no," Harry says, again crumpling to the ground. His uncle pounds against the wall of solid light—spittle flying off the corners of his mouth. Aunt Petunia cowers in the kitchen, and Dudley hides behind her.
388
389MASTER POTTER, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO GO TO HOGWART'S. BUT IN THIS HUMBLE STICK'S OPINION, IT MIGHT OFFER YOU THAT PERSPECTIVE.
390
391The bubble intensifies, and Harry's view of the room blurs until it becomes fully opaque. Harry sits in silence for a time, his breath occasionally hitching, as he's bathed in all-encompassing white light. His breathing gradually slows, and he wipes tears from his eyes.
392
393"What about…Aunt Petunia. And Dudley?"
394
395WHAT ABOUT THEM, MASTER POTTER?
396
397The wand's voice is gentle.
398
399"Will they…be okay?"
400
401HONESTLY? PROBABLY NOT. WIZARD LAW DOES NOT OFTEN ALLOW INTERVENTION INTO THE AFFAIRS OF THE SOULLESS. BUT HEADMASTER DUMBLEDORE IS POWERFUL, AND WOULD HELP WHERE HE IS ABLE.
402
403"Okay," says Harry. "Okay."
404
405Harry takes the stick from his pocket, and touches the tip.
406
407And the Vernons never saw him again.
408
409
410
411Chapter 5
412
413It takes Harry an hour to open his eyes. Candle-light flickers in the cramped room that somehow has his books, and starlight filters through the small window. After his breathing steadies, he stands and looks out the window. Night-fog obscures most of the generic, woodland view, but a soft glow emanates from the trees—an eerie calm. Soothing. Each blade of grass flits back and forth in a silent breeze. Each tree limb rustles in ethereal peace.
414
415Years ago, Harry had contemplated running away. Out the door, down the street, he had stopped, not because he was worried about his cousin or Aunt, or even how his Uncle might react, but because he missed his room. Under the stairs, barely 5 feet on a side—his prison, with every thing that he owned in the world. Dusty and wretched, his home and his treasure. Each book, read a hundred times, that he couldn't possibly carry with him—that he couldn't possibly leave behind.
416
417An owl noiselessly perches on a tree—its head swiveling around, surveying the forestscape. Red light catches its eyes, and, with a passing fog-drift, it's gone.
418
419Rather than leave his old books behind, he had stayed, he tells himself. Even though he knows that it's a half truth. As if the books couldn't be replaced. Dread bubbles up in his gut, but he pushes it away. Everything feels broken. Raw.
420
421Despite its earlier chattiness, the wand remains silent for a long time. Otherworldly possessed magical artifacts, it seems, have the good sense to let a boy mourn. Not that Harry can't use the company. Or, more precisely, Harry desperately needs the company, he just doesn't know what actual companionship feels like. To Harry, other people are mysterious vehicles that sometimes scream with the cry of a predator, but most of the time hide, cowed, as prey. Predators are predictable in that they tirelessly leverage circumstance to extract pain. In the same way, prey are predictable in that they reliably feel it. They feel it in very different ways, though. You would never see Aunt Petunia share her pain—or try to mitigate it. The dynamic didn't allow it. He would see. Each cry for help would welcome overwhelming, unstoppable retribution.
422
423Couldn't he just disappear? Harry places a hand on the small window, and the room contracts around him. It isn't like being magic'd off to the far side of Britain healed any wounds. Little has been actually solved. Despite his escape, it seems all this magical world had in store for him is yet more pain. He turns the incomprehensible prophetic words of the wand around in his head. Entirely, maddeningly useless.
424
425In the far distance, Harry hears the echo of heavy doors opening and closing, as if a gentle reminder that he isn't completely alone. Strange—to hear the sounds of a home, and have to remind himself that the sound isn't a reason to be afraid. But it isn't really home yet, is it? Unknown magical horrors probably lurked all around, ready to feast upon him in accordance with some unknowable prophecy. Trading known pain for unknown.
426
427White wisps of fog fade into the trees, and on the edge of Harry's view, he sees the owl swoop down over the beginnings of a lake. On the owl's closest approach to the water, a tentacle whips out of the pond, and drags it under. Red eyes flash as it slips under the waves. Death throes of the bird sent a small wave lapping against the shore. Safest place there is—Harry sighs.
428
429Ominous, formless echoes begin to buzz at the edge of detectability, as if the room has decided that Harry's had enough quiet. Near the door, light peaks around the cracks—brighter, welcoming. A carpet has crept along the portal in the floor, covering it completely, and the bookshelves seem to stretch taller.
430
431Prophecy or no, Harry can't stay cooped up forever. As much as he wants to disappear, he can't in good conscience turn down such a literal call to adventure—heroes from a thousand novels would frown upon him in the eternal apparently real afterlife. Gripping the wand, white knuckled, Harry wipes his eyes and approaches the door. Even this poor, traumatized boy has the heart for adventure—he thinks, gripping the door handle—defiant, terrified, anxious, and above all, emboldened.
432
433Harry has made a terrible mistake. Ghosts, screaming portraits, animated suits of armor, and the ever changing topography of a malevolent castle have assaulted him in turn. After twenty minutes of frantic wandering, Harry is hopelessly lost—not that he ever knew where he was in the first place.
434
435YOU ARE HOPELESSLY LOST MASTER POTTER.
436
437"Thank you," Harry says, sliding against the wall below a portrait of a man humming to himself.
438
439WHERE ARE YOU TRYING TO GO?
440
441"I don't know! I thought…it would be obvious."
442
443MASTER POTTER, HOGWART'S IS A LABYRINTH BY DESIGN. AND WHILE MOST OF THE FACULTY ARE HERE, THE STUDENTS WILL NOT ARRIVE FOR CLASSES UNTIL TOMORROW.
444
445"Class starts tomorrow?! But I don't…I don't know anything! At all! About any of this!" Harry stands.
446
447NEITHER DO MOST OF THE STUDENTS. THAT IS, IN FACT, WHY THEY ARE COMING TO A SCHOOL.
448
449"You know what I mean!"
450
451IT IS TRUE THAT GROWING UP IN THIS MAGICAL WORLD HAS AFFORDED THEM SOME ADVANTAGES, BUT I ASSURE YOU, YOU ARE NOT NEARLY AS DISADVANTAGED AS YOU MIGHT EXPECT. MAGIC IS HORRENDOUSLY DIFFICULT TO LEARN, MUCH LESS MASTER. AND CHILDREN ARE FORBIDDEN FROM PRACTICING MAGIC WITHOUT SUPERVISION UNTIL THEY COME OF AGE.
452
453"Well…is there anything I should know? Like, important stuff?"
454
455THAT WOULD BE NEEDLESSLY EXPOSITORY. I'M SURE YOU'LL SORT IT OUT TOMORROW.
456
457"Oi, 'Lo ‘Arry!"
458
459Harry spins, and the giant man that exploded his Uncle towers over him.
460
461"Tho't ey herd ye talkin' to yerself! Wot ye doin' walkin 'round tha castle in the wee hours of te night?"
462
463Harry swallows a tremendous bolus of fear, and stands tall—his fist shaking with his grip on the stick.
464
465"He-hello. Um, I…I'm lost."
466
467"No kiddin'? Oh and sorry 'bout that business with yer Uncle, ‘Arry. Musta been a rude 'wakenin' to this magical nonsense I 'spect,"
468
469The giant man smiles and nods to himself, as if having identified the problem out loud has solved it, and continues: "I'm 'orbid. Groundskeeper," he winks, for some reason.
470
471"Okay," says Harry. "Um, I don't really know what to do. I think this is my home now?"
472
473"Oh! … Oh! Well tha's good!" Hagrid smiles even wider. "I've lived 'ere for years! It's great!"
474
475"Can I ask…how you know me? My wand hasn't been very helpful…" Harry feels the wand buzz in his hand.
476
477Hagrid cocks his head at Harry, confused, "Well, eh, yur famous ‘Arry! Ye killed Voldemort-he-who-must-be-named." Hagrid drones out the appellation, monotone—then shakes his head. "Yur 'ollow uncle never told ye 'bout that?"
478
479Harry frowns, "My Uncle never told me much of anything. Just that my parents, uh, hm," Harry pauses.
480
481"Oh yur parents were wonderful ‘Arry. I wish ye coulda met 'em," Hagrid smiles to himself, lost in nostalgia, tinged with just a hint of sadness.
482
483"Wait, you knew my parents?"
484
485"'A course, ‘Arry! We went te school 'ere tagether. Loooong time ago, though,"
486
487The revelation washes past Harry, and he feels nothing. And that bothers him. And it bothers him that it bothers him. He spent years when he was younger worrying about them—who they were, how they were, even cliché things like if they still loved him and other nonsense like that. But after a while, he'd pushed it away into that hole where most things went that his Uncle might use to hurt him.
488
489"They were magical?"
490
491"'A course, ‘Arry. Yur mum was a powerful witch, and yur dad was a tricksy wizard. You will be too, I 'spect!"
492
493"Hm," Harry says.
494
495The giant, as if noticing for the first time that Harry is in something of an emotional Gordian knot, deflects, "Well, c'mon now, lemme show ye tha digs—library's just round tha corner," the giant man lumbers down the hall.
496
497"Hm," Harry says again, following.
498
499
500
501Chapter 6
502
503The gold rush of 1925 was 'mitigated' among wizardkind when one enterprising witch discovered the recipe for a philosopher's stone. After mass production of the stone, the price of gold plummeted over the course of a week, sending the entire commodities market into a tailspin that eventually directly caused the Great Muggle Depression—though this has been thoroughly expunged from muggle records. To this day, gold remains one of their most cherished and, ironically, stable commodities. Quaint.
504
505-A Companion to Introductory Arthimantic Ecognomics, 4th ed.
506
507Harry realizes his jaw has been gaping open for several minutes when saliva leaks out of a corner onto his collar.
508
509"An' this 'ere stack woznt quite this tall when I first got 'ere—I think it's growin', hah!"
510
511The library is infinite. In every direction, the rows stretch in that nauseating way that Harry can't seem to get used to. Periodic bulbs illuminate the bookstacks, until the stacks grow so small, and the lightbulbs appear so close together, that the rows seem to end in pinpoints of light. Occasional balconies reveal that the library is not infinitely tall, but it extends at least thirty stories both down and up from the entrance level. Harry can't help but loop in circles as Hagrid advances.
512
513The giant leads him to an immense desk occupied by a stern faced old woman.
514
515"This 'ere's Madam Pince. If ye need a book, she can prolly find it for ye'."
516
517The woman glares at Hagrid, and touches the 'Quiet. Always.' sign on her desk.
518
519Harry stops spinning in place for a moment to consider the woman.
520
521"Hi, um, I think someone told me to…be your friend?"
522
523"That would be wise," she says, coldly.
524
525Hagrid, exhibiting more abject terror than Harry thought possible for a man of his stature, leads Harry around the desk, deeper into the stacks. He whispers, "Yeh, mebbe only talk to her if ye 'ave to…" he trails off. Harry frowns.
526
527Every second or third stack, Harry spots a…wizard? Or witch? Simply perusing the stacks, waving their wands about, sometimes close, sometimes far in the distance.
528
529"Maybe this is a stupid question, but, um, why are there so many people here? My wand said school isn't even in session yet,"
530
531Hagrid gives him that quizzical look again, but answers, "Well a' 'course people're 'ere, they're lookin' fur spells!"
532
533"What…what does that mean?"
534
535"Spells! They're lookin' in the books for more spells! Doncha know where spells come from? Ah! I s'pose you don't. Right. Magic right?" He flicks out his wand and waves it about, "We cas' spells with these, yeah? Well, those spells come from them there books,"
536
537"But, who wrote the books?"
538
539"What do ye mean?"
540
541"I don't—in uhm, in the muggle? World? People write books. Do people not write books here?"
542
543"A' 'course people write books 'ere, don't be silly ‘Arry," the giant shakes his head, "But not in this 'ere library. These books always been. Well, at least since that silly arithmancer made the library so big. But it's confusin', yeah? Cause the books 'ere always were, even 'afore he did it. Right?"
544
545Harry is hopelessly lost.
546
547"'Ere, lemme show ye. Where's aytch, where's aytch," the giant lumbers off down a row.
548
549"Nah, nah, it'd be Pee!" he lumbers back in a different direction.
550
551Harry can't figure out what system the giant is using, but he seems to know what he's doing. The giant stops suddenly, and then climbs a ladder up twenty or so feet. After thumbing through a few books, Hagrid nods to himself, satisfied, and tosses down a book at Harry.
552
553Harry, nearly falling over, catches it.
554
555Harry J. Potter, August 1st, 1982 – [classified]
556
557
558
559"What?" says Harry, dumbstruck.
560
561"It's yur story, ‘Arry!"
562
563Harry sits, entranced, paging through the early parts of his book. The earliest stretches have the same cursed aura that garbles the words—he can see them, see that they're there, and that they're the story of his youth, but they don't make any sense. Then there are chapters and chapters detailing his sullen life with the Vernons.
564
565Hagrid stands by a bit awkwardly, teetering back and forth on his toes.
566
567"Yeaaah, I s'pose it ken be shockin' the first time. But 'erryone's story is already written, y'know?"
568
569Harry jumps forward,
570
571…
572
573It took Harry an hour to open his eyes. Candle-light flickered in the cramped room that somehow had his books, and starlight filtered through the small window. After his breathing steadied, he stood and looked out the window. Night-fog obscured most of the generic, woodland view, but a soft glow emanated from the trees—an eerie calm. Soothing. Each blade of grass flitted back and forth in a silent breeze. Each tree limb rustled in ethereal peace. 
574
575…
576
577Then a bit further—walking into the library—sitting down as Hagrid tosses him the book—him sitting and reading it, utterly engrossed. Then, the same stupefying haze washes over the text. Harry drops the book and stands.
578
579"This…this has everything. This has everything that will be?"
580
581"Well yeh, but ye can't see it till it happens, right?"
582
583"But it's in there!"
584
585"Yeh, but…" the giant trails off.
586
587"Do…do you have paper?"
588
589"Well no but, eh, I can get some…"
590
591"Paper!" Harry nearly shouts. A prolonged, hissed, "SHHH" assaults him from all directions.
592
593"Please!" he whispers.
594
595Hagrid, a bit worried, mumbles and waves his wand about, and hands Harry a piece of paper and a pencil that seem to have folded out of nowhere. Harry immediately falls to the floor, flips to a random later page, and starts transcribing the garbled, indecipherable text.
596
597"Oi that won't work ‘Arry. Jus' gonna be all nonsense till it happens, yeh?"
598
599"But," Harry says, scribbling furiously, "I'll have written it down right now."
600
601"Well yeh, I s'pose…look ‘Arry, this ent s'posed to be a big ol' world shatterin' event. 'Is jus' yur book, right? 'erryone's got one!"
602
603Harry flips more pages, and continues.
604
605"But it's…it's it's determined. What if you knew, Hagrid? What if you could actually read your book? Don't you see how that would change everything?"
606
607"Well yeh, but ye can't!"
608
609Harry sighs, stands, and inspects his atrocious handwriting. They're clearly words—English—just, completely nonsensical. Then, suddenly, as he rereads it, the first line rotates into focus:
610
611"Paper!" Harry nearly shouted. A prolonged, hissed, "SHHH" assaulted him from all directions.
612
613He even remembers writing it now, as if the motions of his hand just suddenly made sense. Harry's hand shakes.
614
615"This 'ent even wot I wanted te show ye…my spell's just over there…" Hagrid sighs.
616
617Harry carefully folds the paper, and flexes his hand to steady it. Then, "You said…that every book is in here? That they're all written?"
618
619"Well yeh! Me own books a good hundred paces that-a-way," Hagrid gestures, vaguely in the direction behind Harry. "Kinda drones on a bit, if ye ask me…"
620
621"And…and books have spells? That no one wrote?"
622
623"Yeh, ye got it! Cos them books has always been!"
624
625"Wait—what do you mean, you just said 'my spells'…everyone looks like they're doing weird motions with their wands and saying like…latin maybe? Can you only cast certain spells or something?"
626
627"Oh no, 'errybody can cast any spell, s'long as they're powerful and whatnot. Here, lemme show ye. I dun think this one'll break yur noggin as much," Hagrid winks, setting off down the aisle.
628
629They walk for a time, and the bookstacks only seem to become more and more disorienting the farther they venture. Sometimes the bookstacks are lit by bulbs, other times by torches, rarely by candle, and the architecture blends seamlessly through a thousand different styles. The walkway alternates between wood and steel, ropework and imperceptibly shifting gears. It sounds like pages turning, like distant books tumbling to their sides—like a loose-leaf sheet flitting in the wind. The smell is always the same though: it smells like a library.
630
631"Ahhh, 'ere we are. But first!" Hagrid turns to face Harry and adopts something like a fencer's pose—holding his wand aloft, "Watch…this!"
632
633"Lucemus splendescerus urerie cunctas oculisa paulorio!" Hagrid flicks his wand up down back and forth in precise motions, screwing up his face in concentration.
634
635The tip of his wand shines a vibrant red, and bright red line shoot forth, connecting with every book in a six foot radius. Hagrid grins. Harry jumps at the explosion of color, but spins around, looking at the thin lines of light in awe.
636
637"That's…amazing Hagrid. Does it locate books?"
638
639"Yeh, points right te any book near ya. Found it meself in this 'ere book," he slides a thin volume off the shelf, handing it to Harry.
640
641"Not tha most useful thing in the world, but it's mine. Worth a couple coin on the market, now!"
642
643"You can sell it?"
644
645"Ehhh, sorta? More like…could sell the uhh…number of the book? Buncha arithmantic nonsense it is. I just like me spell 'cos it looks quite grand. And I found it, a'course" Hagrid smiles.
646
647Harry traces the cover of the book with a finger. The cover depicts a boy chasing a dragon—paging through it, it seems to be a children's fable—author unlisted. Along the spine is a sequence of numbers and symbols in a neat script.
648
649"Aye, that's the number thar. Would need te ask Professor Trelawney how to read it. It's…ehh, quite long."
650
651When flipping through the pages, Harry spots one particular page that's been heavily annotated.
652
653"Ah, yeh, that's where the spell is! Wozn't a puzzle or anythin' for this one. Jus' tells ye how to do it, pretty much,"
654
655"Does it work on any books? Like, what if the book is empty, or has most of the pages torn out?"
656
657"Ehh, I'm not sure. Don't use it that much t'be honest wit ye,"
658
659"Can you show me again?"
660
661
662
663Chapter 7
664
665A great many reams of scroll have been spent praising the 'majesty' and 'beauty' of the Western European wand style, despite each and every soul knowing that these superlatives matter so little so as to be distracting, at least, or to be fatally dangerous, at worst. The purpose of a wand is not to beautiful—the purpose of a wand is simple: to Cut.
666
667The Art of the Wizard by Zhànzhēng Yuèliàng
668
669Magic actually does not make any sense.
670
671After Hagrid tried and failed to teach Harry the spell for a good ten minutes, Hagrid suggested reading the book because, "it's how I learnt it, an' I'm pretty dull, so I 'spect you'll pick it up in no time t'all!", and then proceeded to go feed the "bladdernorxes" lest they make a "ruckus". Thus, Harry sits in a clearing between bookstacks, having teased out the correct motions for the spell, but he grows ever more flustered by how the spell seems to work. And, well, not work as it were.
672
673In front of him rests the fairytale where the spell was first written. Hagrid was right—the book had a fantastically simple description of the spell, all told in rosy prose, describing how the child found a book to help him defeat the dragon. Next to the book, Harry's collected some loose sheets of paper in a stack, the top page of which reads, "Harry's Paper Pile," and next to that another stack of blank sheets, save the top, which reads, "Harry's Totally Real Book,".
674
675The spell launches a thin red line at the first and third 'book'.
676
677Which would seem to suggest that the spell can either read or is screwing with Harry. So Harry collected a fourth stack, where the top page reads, "Harry's Totally Real Stack of Pages Which Is Identical To Harry's Totally Real Book Except For The Top Page," and the thin red line also points at this stack. But it doesn't point to a fifth stack labeled, "Harry's Totally Real Stack of Pages Which Is Identical To Harry's Totally Real Book Except For The Top Page And Also Is Not A Book,".
678
679"So…books are things that I call books? Literally? Even if they aren't 'books'?"
680
681WHAT IS A 'BOOK' MASTER POTTER?
682
683Harry jumps—the wand had been silent for well over an hour—for the entirety of Hagrid's library tour, as well as Harry's series of experiments.
684
685Harry opens his mouth, but pauses. He can see the Socratic bear-trap lying in front of him, "They're—hard to put into words. I can list features of a book, but I'm sure you could give me an example of a 'book' that's missing many or even all of those features…but these piles of blank sheets are the same!"
686
687INDEED. BUT ONE IS A BOOK, AND THE OTHER IS NOT.
688
689"Okay, so if I just write on it," Harry kneels down and scribbles on the top of the "Harry's Paper Pile," stack an additional, "Which Is Totally A Book," and a thin red line erupts from his wand, pointing to the stack.
690
691"What, so magic speaks English?"
692
693I CANNOT IMAGINE HOW ELSE IT WOULD UNDERSTAND YOU.
694
695Harry honestly doesn't have a response to that.
696
697"But…but these stacks of paper clearly aren't real books!"
698
699The thin red lines falter, but hold steady.
700
701DO YOU BELIEVE THAT?
702
703"I mean, no, but you could make a pretty good argument! They're empty! And not even bound!"
704
705AH, BUT YOU HAVE ALREADY NOTED THAT THESE ARE NOT NECESSARILY THE CRUCIAL FEATURES OF BOOK-I-NESS.
706
707"Book-i-ness isn't even a word! You could just as easily argue that I'm a book, like, as a metaphor, but just…as…," a thin red line erupts from the tip of the wand, pointing at Harry.
708
709"Huh."
710
711INDEED.
712
713"But…but..," Harry trails off. The red line glows softly, and seems to point directly at his heart.
714
715"But I'm…my brain isn't magical, is it? Is it reading my brain? Did I just…convince the universe that 'books' are whatever I can convince myself they are?"
716
717PERHAPS IT IS BEST TO NOT EVEN THINK IN TERMS OF WHAT IS AND WHAT IS NOT 'MAGICAL'. INSTEAD, THERE IS A SYSTEM IN PLACE, AND THAT SYSTEM CLEARLY HAS RULES. WHAT RULE HAVE YOU DISCOVERED?
718
719"That whatever I can convince myself is a 'book' can be, uh, sort of located by, um, moving my hands in this very precise way, and saying these very precise words,"
720
721NOW, DO YOU THINK THERE IS MORE OR LESS AMBIGUITY IN WHAT IS OR IS NOT A 'BOOK' VERSUS THE MOTIONS YOU JUST MADE WITH YOUR HANDS, AND THE WAY YOU PRONOUNCED THOSE WORDS?
722
723"More! Like, yes, okay, words can have different pronunciations, and I guess I could cast the spell while like upside-down or in different places…"
724
725OR MIRRORED.
726
727"Or..wait, what?"
728
729MAGIC IS NOT RIGHT OR LEFT HANDED, MASTER POTTER.
730
731"Wh-okay. Whatever. But, these are different kinds of ambiguity! These particular motions and words correspond to this particular spell. Otherwise, how can you even say a spell exists at all?"
732
733WITH PRECISELY AS MUCH DIFFICULTY AS ONE MIGHT HAVE DESCRIBING WHAT A BOOK IS, I SUSPECT.
734
735Harry sighs. "So if I can convince myself some other completely different motion is the same as the motion of the spell, I'll cast the same spell?"
736
737NOT QUITE. IN THE SAME WAY THAT THERE IS THIS THING THAT YOU CAN RECOGNIZE AS A 'BOOK', THERE IS A DISTINCT THING THAT IS RECOGNIZED AS THAT SPELL. BOOK-I-NESS IS NOT SO MALLEABLE THAT IT CAN REFER TO ANY THING, OTHERWISE, AS YOU NOTE, THE WORD WOULD NOT MEAN ANYTHING AT ALL. SPELL-I-NESS, THEN, IS RELATED TO HAND MOTIONS AND SPOKEN WORDS, BUT I WOULD ARGUE THAT THOSE PARTICULAR MOTIONS AND WORDS ARE NOT CENTRAL TO THE IDENTITY OF THE THING. REGARDLESS, I AM PROUD THAT YOU HAVE STUMBLED ACROSS THE BASICS OF PLACEBOMANCY SO EARLY IN YOUR CAREER. CONGRATULATIONS MASTER POTTER.
738
739"Placebomancy," Harry says, nonplussed.
740
741AN UNFORTUNATE NAME. EARLY MAGICAL PRACTITIONERS WERE JUST AS CONFUSED ABOUT ALL THIS AS YOU, IT WOULD SEEM.
742
743"Well, what is 'central to the identity' of, um, 'spell-i-ness'?"
744
745THAT IS THE GRAND ADVENTURE OF WIZARDRY, IN ONE QUESTION, MASTER POTTER.
746
747"Oi, yur still 'ere, ‘Arry!"
748
749Hagrid comes upon Harry's assemblage of loose-leaf sheets and furious scribblings. Harry sighs, and stands, "Albus was right—every time I learn something more about magic, it only raises a hundred more questions,"
750
751"Sounds like yur makin' good progress then!" Hagrid laughs, "C'mon—there's more to this 'ere castle than books."
752
753They sneak by the librarian, as quietly as they can, and exit back into the stony halls of the castle proper.
754
755"How were the, uh, bladder…norxes?"
756
757"Oh great, just great. They're tricksy beasts though—don't let ye remember much but how nice they were,"
758
759"O..kay," says Harry, noticing that Hagrid's left arm has a new, thick bandage around the bicep.
760
761"They mean well, though. Really! C'mon, ye must be 'ungry." Hagrid smiles. Harry realizes he hasn't eaten in over a day—his stomach emits a single, sharp gurgle.
762
763"Yes please."
764
765They enter a massive hall with five rows of tables—some mix of a cafeteria with an ancient cathedral—where each table extends from a wall, down the length of the hall. Above the foot of each table floats a…seal? A coat of arms? Except the fifth table, where a grey shield floats.
766
767"What's all this?"
768
769Hagrid forces himself into the narrow space between the bench and the table, after considerable creaking and groaning, and Harry sits across from him.
770
771"This 'ere's me 'ouse table. Gryffindor. 'Ouse of might and heroics 'n whatnot. Er, mebbe 'ouse of people that fashion themselves heroic-like? Godfrey Gryffindor was a 'ero though. Dragon'slayin' beast 'e woz," Hagrid nods to the seal. Sure enough, a plate-mail clad fellow grapples with a lion-lizard thing in slow-motion.
772
773"Then there's Hufflepuffs—good friendly folk, always willin' to save your sorry bum come exam time—ehh Ravenclaws—thems, hm. They eh, let's say they think very 'ighly o' themselves. Then finally the Slytherins. They're, well, ‘Arry, I don't want to colour yur impressions, now, but some o' them are just downright evil. Not in, like, ehh, a moral sense, mind ye. Won't stab ye in the back, literal-like. Well, mebbe they might…" Hagrid trails off.
774
775"Most importantly, thems Slytherins are the arch-enemy-folk of us Gryffindors," Hagrid's eyes widen as a bowl of soup appears in front of him. A similar, albeit smaller bowl appears in front of Harry.
776
777"I get the feeling you might be a bit biased…" Harry says, poking his soup with a spoon. It…smells good, but looks kind of like muddy vomit.
778
779"Well, yeh, s'all in good fun though," Hagrid gesticulates with his spoon, "Oh, and I guess there's that there new house. Some fancy donor's tryin' te set it up this year. 'Aven't settled on a name yet, though. Buncha nonsense, messin' wit centuries o' tradition like that,"
780
781"So you pick your house?"
782
783"Hah, 'eavens no, it's already been picked, remember!"
784
785"But…you said…"
786
787"Ye, well, the Searchin' Hat is one of ol' Merlin's artifacts. All 'is stuff breaks some o' them rules. They plop it right on yur 'ead and it blurts out where ye'll be. Can only tell you wot 'ouse you end up in though, not much else,"
788
789"But if it can see into the future, doesn't that mean—ahh!" Harry plops his spoon into his soup.
790
791"Hagrid, that breaks everything! What if you force the school to put you in a different house? What if, what if you immediately leave? What if you just refuse, and only ever go to another house?"
792
793"Eh, well, ye can't. Coz you're already in the 'ouse it tells ya! And why would ye leave immediately?"
794
795"You can't switch houses?"
796
797"Well, I mean, if circum'stance ehh forced ye to, or the King said ye had to I guess…"
798
799"Then how isn't that a paradox!"
800
801"Well, I guess, err, coz it's never 'appened?"
802
803
804
805Chapter 8
806
807Commit. Lift the spectacle. Visualize freedom. Breathe. Tear through the burn and the ecstasy will elevate you. Bend. Commit. Increase weight. Breathe. Run until you cannot run, push until it breaks. Squeeze until it is crushed. Breathe. Commit. Conquest over your mind is conquest over your body. Your body is a vehicle for realizing goals. That vehicle is speeding at a cliff face, and you do not care. You will drill a hole in heaven if it means progress. Commit.
808
809Better Life, Better Wizardry by Rubeus Hagrid
810
811For the remainder of dinner, after deciding that Harry's confusions regarding paradox and destiny could not be adequately satisfied by his understanding of the nature of the Magically Real, Hagrid attempts, instead, to explain a terribly complicated game involving flying and balls and points and entirely too much physical contact for Harry's comfort.
812
813"Why don't all the players try to catch the snikt?"
814
815"Oh well they 'ave a'fore! World Cup, sum years ago—problem is, if the snikt gets cornered, it starts changin' the rules!"
816
817"That sounds…intentionally confusing,"
818
819"Nah, not too bad. Audience gets a'mediate understandin' of the new rules. Players gotta sort it out right quick, though! More balls, less balls, more players, more goals,no goalies, refs become players, points for blood, sides swap, players become balls—things like that. Usually better te let one poor soul chase the snikt, than 'ave the rules changin' on ye constantly."
820
821"Isn't that, like, super dangerous? Did you say blood?"
822
823"Magic is dangerous, ‘Arry. It's 'alf the fun of et!"
824
825Harry finds it difficult to adequately express how much he disagrees—so instead, he fills his mouth with the delicious, but disgusting-looking soup.
826
827Hagrid suddenly slams his palm on the table, "Blast, ‘Arry, ye don't 'ave any supplies, do ye!"
828
829"Oh, um, no? I guess I have a wand? Albus gave it to me…"
830
831"The ol' man jus' gave ye one o' them knockoffs? Ye di'nt even go to Olivander's Wand Emporium?"
832
833"I…I have no idea what that is." Harry's wand buzzes gently against his leg.
834
835The man shoves the entire bench backwards and stands, "C'mon! Won't 'ave time tomorrow I 'spect!"
836
837"It's like…two in the morning."
838
839"That s'all right. Diagon Alley's always open,"
840
841"I..is it…safe?"
842
843"Well a'course! I'm pretty good in a scuffle, too, if et comes down to et," Hagrid winks.
844
845Harry vomits the entirety of the vomit-colored soup directly onto a storefront window the moment the teleportation spell ends. It clings to the window—solidifying in the cold—sliding down—forming threads—taunting him, as if to say, 'This was inevitable. You knew this was inevitable, and so here we are.'
846
847"Oi, sorry ‘Arry. Forget 'ow rough that kin be on ye newbies,"
848
849"It's…okay."
850
851After Harry collects himself, he looks down the street, but this triggers another wave of nausea, and he dry-heaves. The street isn't actually as disorienting as Hogwart's to look at, but the architectural style evokes the same visual-busy-ness, as if everything is slowly rotating. Actually, everything is slowly rotating. Harry retches again.
852
853"C'mon lad, walk et off, walk it off," Hagrid ushers him forwards.
854
855Harry wipes his mouth, wraps his arms around himself, and trudges forwards. At some point, winter clothes wrapped themselves around him—during the teleportation spell?—but the cold still bites to the bone.
856
857Despite the all-consuming night sky and brutally early morning hour, the storefronts are lit, magically and practically. And are absolutely congested with foot traffic. Oddly dressed folks filter in and out of the businesses, carting around things Harry couldn't even begin to identify—horns, bones? Furniture? Glowing orbs and bladed weapons. Broomsticks and gems. Animals that definitely are not from any earth Harry knows. Animals that are familiar, but…wrong? Tiny horses. One elephant-sized bird that trumpets out a thunderous squawk. Harry keeps close to Hagrid, but still manages to draw the occasional lingering eye.
858
859"I think people are recognizing me?" Harry says, sotto voce to Hagrid.
860
861"Well, yeh did defeat the Dark King, ‘Arry. People recognize an 'ero, even if it's been a good decade or so!"
862
863Harry, in something of a developing pattern, doesn't have much to say in response to that.
864
865The pause in front of a bookshop, and Harry spots a pricetag in the window below a book.
866
867"Oh, Hagrid, I don't have any money,"
868
869"S'Okay, ‘Arry. Most o' this is free. Might 'ave to barter for tha more magical stuff, but even then, most stuff ye kin make once, magic'll let ye make again even easier. Spells're prolly the only exception, there."
870
871"Do I need any uh magical stuff? Like that book there?"
872
873"Not unless ye want to enter a whole world a' nonsense," Hagrid says, somewhat cryptically. "Though, I s'pose yur parents 'ad some spells. We kin see 'ow much they're fetchin' on the market if ye'd like. Less get your summer readin' first, though. Nobody reads 'em over the summer, don't ye worry,"
874
875The mention of his parents triggers that same wave of non-feeling—a hook in his attention, but no associated pain or sadness or … anything really. Harry frowns, nonetheless.
876
877They enter the bookstore which, after having seen Hogwart's library's majesty, feels woefully inadequate—though Harry muses that being finite is never something he thought he would hold against a bookstore. The space of the store is screwy though—it's much too large on the inside to fit in the narrow lot it looks to occupy from the outside—too tall, too wide, and about five times too deep.
878
879By the door, neat bundles of books are stacked in seven rows. An older man sits by the cash register, engrossed in a book, occasionally twirling a wand between his fingers.
880
881Hagrid picks up a bundle from the first row and turns to Harry, "Ye kin look around if ye like. Might want te hurry a bit, though. Want ye to get some sleep afore tomorrow."
882
883Harry paces down an aisle, running a hand along the book-backs. Some of the books have the same strange script from the Hogwart's library, and all of them have a small square with an odd pottern near the base—like a sequence of nested squares, winding inwards, with alternating greys and blacks. 
884
885Magical Realism in the Early 20th Century
886
887A Brief History of Rhyme, Arithmantical Linguistics in Early Spells
888
889Where the Wildebovine Are – Collected Works in Fantasy and Muggle Fiction
890
891Towards an Understanding of Muggle Science Through The Lens of Critickal Magica
892
893Merlin's Sword
894
895Merlin's Sword Two
896
897Merlin's Sword Revengeance
898
899Gold and Silver, Markets and Failure
900
901Fantastickal Munchkins and Where to Find Them
902
903Spellcraft—Sampling and Search in the Hogwart's Library
904
905The bookstore, much like Hogwart's, doesn't appear to have any sort of organization scheme for the books. Nonetheless, Harry is completely transfixed. He slides out the last tome—by an S. Aaronov—and opens it. To his dismay, it is packed with tight, incomprehensible, mathemagical script.
906
907"Hagrid, what are these, uh, bar-code looking things? On the spine?"
908
909"Ah, that's how ye find em in the Hogwart's library. Or jus' read em' that way. Look:"
910
911Hagrid lifts a book of waterfowl cooking recipes and points his wand at the spine, "Machinus occulari," he says, and the square seal glows faintly. Then, glowing letters arrange themselves in the air above the book.
912
913"So long as ye have the seal thar, ye can read tha book! Although the seals are, eh, complicated..." Hagrid drags his wand across the seal and taps his palm. The seal appears on his skin—brighter than a tattoo. "Great recipes in this'n. I figure'd ye'd be more ol' fashioned—would want tha, uh, actual books, right?" Hagrid pats the bundle of books in his arm.
914
915"I thought you said all the books in Hogwart's have always been?"
916
917"Well yeh, so 'ave all the books ye'd ever write! Jus' gotta find em in the library. Though I 'spect findin' em in the library is harder than writin' em in the first place. Easier to jus' write the book, summon the seal, and find it that way,"
918
919Harry's finger catches on a hard metal lock on a book as he paces down an aisle, and he pauses. The book is nearly featureless, except for a short note on the back, and a slightly different square seal on the spine—most of the squares are missing, but the black and grey bars are still there. The lock prevents him from opening it, or even peeking into the pages. He takes it off the shelf, and turns it over in his hands.
920
921"Ah yeh, thars a spellbook. It's bound though—can only guarantee that it's the book it says it is, but not where it 'tis in tha library. To pra'vent counterfeit'n and whatnot,"
922
923"What does it do?"
924
925"It's a mystery spell! Told ya it's a whole buncha nonsense, the whole market is," Hagrid shakes his head. "Prolly turns yur tomatoes blue or somesuch. Folks bundle 'em together and barter em' for favors or other spells—sometimes even coin, though s'not like coin'll buy ye much outside the muggle world. More 'valuable' the spell, more likely 'tis to be secret like this'n," Hagrid air-quotes the word 'valuable' derisively, "Once the secret gets out, anybody can cast it—sometimes that means it becomes more valuable, sometimes less—depends on 'ow useful the spell is. Or 'ow absolutely mad people are."
926
927Harry nods. He had wondered how anything had a price in a world where it seemed food and housing and medical care were all completely free and, well, magically plentiful.
928
929"There's always a ladder, ‘Arry," Hagrid frowns, "Even in great ol' Magical Britain."
930
931"C'mon, ‘Arry, I'll show ye."
932
933
934
935Chapter 9
936
937Why Britain? Where else? The America's? When they were entrusted with the library, the planet was nearly lost. They see not in it history or knowledge or something sacred, but opportunity. It's a funny word, 'opportunity'. 'Land of opportunity'. 'When opportunity knocks'. Ironic, then, that 'opportunistic' has that faint tinge of negativity. America has stained itself with opportunity. How could we trust them not to seize it again, given the chance?
938
939Excerpt from un[classified] memorandum from MI[classified], 19[classified].
940
941"Merlin's arse, ‘Arry!"
942
943They stand in front of an incomprehensible, ludicrously tall scroll of numbers, supported by chains on each side. Glyphs corresponding to—according to Hagrid—spells and transaction participants glow faintly on each line, followed by several columns of—to quote Hagrid—"witchcraft"—and a final number that more or less directly correlates with "value".
944
945Hagrid's currently transfixed by one particular entry, which ends with a fifteen digit number.
946
947"‘Arry—you're—you're rich!"
948
949"Oh? Oh. Neat. What does that, uh, mean exactly?" It's not that Harry isn't surprised—but exhaustion clouds his thoughts, and, to be honest, material wealth never was much of a concern for a boy who lived contented with his books in a box under the stairs.
950
951"Well, ye could, if ya…if ye wanted to buy, ye could….anything!" Hagrid stumbles over the words.
952
953"It seems like everything I want in this crazy world is already free. Should I, um, exchange them? Er, what are they, exactly?"
954
955Hagrid taps some of the glyphs with his wand, and more bright, floating words appear.
956
957"Well, one's a spell yer mum found a while back, makes a tea in a tea cup warm, and the cup itself cold…that one's worth the most. An' yur dad 'ad some, eh, defensive spells? Looks like a couple from a series o' puzzle books—'e musta cracked 'em in school. One slows objects near ye if they're goin' too fast. The other…huh. Also slows objects near ye. But uh, only in front o' ye? Ah well. Not worth as much."
958
959"That seems useful?"
960
961"Nah, kin make things go fast enough with magic that it ain't much use to try stoppin' em. Better to dodge,"
962
963"Hm," says Harry. He catches himself blinking slowly—distracted.
964
965"I still, like, know the spell—if I sell it, that is…right?"
966
967"Well, most o' the time, yeh. Certainly for these. If only a few people know the spell, ye can arrange a conditional memory scrubbin'. But these spells are all about showin' off ye own somethin' ‘Arry Potter once 'ad," Hagrid whistles again, as he reads over the prices.
968
969"I think I'll, uh, hold on to them. Until I have a better idea of how this place works…" Harry trails off.
970
971"Right, o' course, ‘Arry. O' course. But, jus'—wow!" Hagrid gawks at the scroll.
972
973Harry jams his hands deeper under his armpits, and looks around the square. The constant rotating has gotten better in some ways, and worse in others—no longer nausea inducing, but increasing unsettling. Nonetheless, weariness wars with dizziness for the privilege of being the most unpleasant thing assaulting Harry's mind.
974
975Hagrid transfers some of the glyphs onto a scrap of paper, and slides it into Harry's spellbooks. He shakes his head, laughs again, and turns to Harry, "Come on, student store's this way."
976
977They take a series of lefts that definitely should mean they went in a circle—more than once—but each turn greets them with an entirely new alley, with storefronts of positively Suessian variety. Only a small fraction of the stores have signs in English—most are in Asian scripts, or vigorously accented English letters—or, apparently, non-Human altogether.
978
979A pair of short, thin-limbed creatures brush past Harry and Hagrid, clicking at each other in staccato bursts of hard consonants. Each has a locked spellbook on their backs, and rings and shiny chain looping around their arms up to the tips of their ears. They pause, and turn to stare back at Harry. Harry turns his head, embarrassed, but he can feel their eyes on him as they make their way down the street. Their eyes shine like a night-time predator—curious, but unmistakably hungry.
980
981"Nilbugs look scarier 'en they are. Mostly care about tradin' spells," Hagrid says, unprompted. Harry feels their eyes on him well after they round a corner, out of sight.
982
983The student store is fairly obvious. If the bright, pulsating "HOGWART'S" hadn't tipped him off, it might've been the continuous streams of Hogwart's-school-colors confetti gushing out of four hoses, completely flooding the street. The confetti is weightless, and seems to respond to air currents, but dissolves into sparkling dust if Harry touches it directly. He notes a fifth hose that occasionally chokes out a sad, grey-colored strip of confetti that immediately sinks to the ground.
984
985Two older kids exit out the front, smiling at each other, waving away the confetti with their hands—and Harry can't help but feel a sudden, overwhelming sadness. Like, as if it wasn't enough that this world was full of magical, free things, with fantastical creatures and mind-bending spells and majestic, albeit somewhat terrifying castles—people are happy here too. For the first time, all at once, it strikes Harry that he's actually been missing something. His entire life.
986
987The kids—a boy and a girl—pass by Harry and Hagrid, not even noticing, as they giggle down the street. Again, Harry catches himself staring after them, and scurries to catch up with Hagrid into the store.
988
989"'Ello 'ello 'ello 'Orbid, how's the drudge?" The young man waves at Hagrid, but doesn't take his eyes off a floating screen in front of him. It looks vaguely like the game Hagrid had described earlier, but more elephants are flying around the pitch than players. He reaches for a mug of something golden and bubbly.
990
991"Ah y'know, jus' taken me friend Mister Potter 'ere on a walkabout." Hagrid grins.
992
993The man's turns to look at Harry, then back at his screen—then he nearly knocks his drink over as he turns back, "Oi! … Oi!" he says, pointing at Harry.
994
995"Ah, hi?"
996
997"You saved me mum! You saved Britain!" the young man starts to climb over the table.
998
999"C'mon now, calm it down," Hagrid forms a welcome human shield for Harry.
1000
1001"Oi, Mister Potter, take anythin' ye need. I mean—I mean, most of it's free anyway o' course hah but if ye need—actch'ally," he rummages under the desk, "I'd be downright honored if ya took this spell from me Mister Potter, downright honored! Least I can do!"
1002
1003Hagrid takes the book from the man and hands it to Harry.
1004
1005"This 'ere is Wilcox Grant, delightful chump and fine purveyor of general goods." Wilcox nods.
1006
1007Harry half-smiles at the man, "Hello, um, I'm Harry."
1008
1009"Hah, o' course ya are. Please, please, look around!"
1010
1011Harry holds the book tight against his chest like a shield, and looks around the store. Quills, pens, notebooks, spirals, tomes, robes, metal gadgets, colorful tubes, vials, lenses, shoes, cauldrons?—it's a quixotic collection of equal parts everyday thing and magical menagerie.
1012
1013Occasionally, Harry picks up something in his hand, trying on the thought of owning it—imagining it being a thing he might have in a corner or in a bag. But each time, he sets it back down, and continues on.
1014
1015He passes rows upon rows of snacks in a rainbow of busy packaging—cartoon characters dance and pantomime noiselessly on the wrappers, beckoning him to touch them—he lifts one, and its void is immediately replaced by another. Mystery flavors from Sugarplum to Potato stew. The candy slips from his hand as he continues down the aisle.
1016
1017He passes a display of four robes, each animated to float as if worn by invisible mannequins, and he touches the cloth. It's soft and warm and intrusively pushes the abstract thought of 'home' into his mind—'enchanted', it says on a tag—'Never get homesick'.
1018
1019Tears drip down his face, onto his collar—onto the winter clothes that aren't his but somehow are his and came from nowhere. Onto the floor of a store of free treasures, run by a man that he saved by doing nothing. Hagrid comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder.
1020
1021"Ah hell, I'm sorry lad. I think I overwhelm'd ye."
1022
1023"I haven't—I don't—I don't—I'm," Harry can't find any words.
1024
1025"C'mon, we kin do this tomorrow," Hagrid leads him back out of the store, waving off Wilcox. They pass through the arcs of the dancing, sparkling confetti.
1026
1027Harry searches his mind for an anchor—some tangible thing that he can moor his emotions to, some fixture, but it's like waving a hand through smoke. He cries, uncontrollably, into Hagrid's massive coat as the confetti bursts into warm little balls of light around him.
1028
1029A sharp crack heralds a small cluster of men directly in front of Harry and Hagrid. They look around, spot Harry, and all turn to face him. All but one on the far right are masked, and the unmasked fellow has a brilliantly blue, glowing right eye—sclera and all. They spread out, ten paces from Harry. Hagrid's wand is already in his hand.
1030
1031"Sorry fellas. Mister Potter 'ere's 'ad a long day." He takes a step back, shielding Harry with his arm. "I'm sure 'e'd give ye autographs another time, if ye ask nice," Hagrid says, humorless, raising his wand.
1032
1033"You will not threaten or harm the boy," says the man with the brilliant blue eye.
1034
1035All the other men nod and advance. Hagrid flicks his wand but nothing happens. He tries again, to no effect. The blue-eye'd man's wand flickers—it only moves when Hagrid's moves. It matches the motions—the same, but mirrored?
1036
1037"Ah, shite," says Hagrid, backing up a step.
1038
1039
1040
1041Chapter 10
1042
1043Always bring a gun to a wandfight.
1044
1045-Ancient Wand Katta
1046
1047Hagrid's wand blurs into an enormous handgun, and he immediately fires. Three of the men drop in turn after baritone blasts. A fourth is knocked backwards, through a window, but the fifth and sixth manage to cast strange light-bending bubbles that deflect the bullets around them. Blue-eye walks forward, casually, as the bullets obliterate brickwork inches from his head.
1048
1049Hagrid tosses a sphere to the ground that erupts into a tidal wave of foam. He turns to Harry, "Run."
1050
1051Harry's legs spring into movement without much input on Harry's part—a surge of adrenaline buffets him forward. That small, introspective part of himself capable of dispassionate, rational analysis is a blur of white noise—tuned to a dead television channel.
1052
1053As they sprint down the alley, Harry shouts, "Why can't we teleport?"
1054
1055"That's tha first thing I tried,"
1056
1057"Or call for help?"
1058
1059"Tha second."
1060
1061"Or…or…"
1062
1063"'E's cancellin' me spells. Still is, actually,"
1064
1065Harry turns, and sees Hagrid's left hand continues to flick up, down, and around with a wand.
1066
1067It's all a familiar fear—like Harry's floating in a vacuum, and however much he might flail, he won't move any further from the certainty of future, overwhelming, inescapable pain.
1068
1069"Who—who are they!"
1070
1071"Bad news," says Hagrid as he tosses another foam-sphere.
1072
1073A hole melts in the foam wall behind them, and the first mask to walk through it takes a bullet to the torso. The second rolls and sends a silent lightning bolt at Hagrid. Hagrid catches it in his hand, gritting his teeth.
1074
1075"'Urry, this alley!"
1076
1077For the past three turns, no one else has been on the streets—the shopfronts look more aged—dust and trash accumulates in doorways and bins. Even the lights are dimmer, or off completely. Harry nonetheless has that increasing familiar, overwhelming sense that he's being watched.
1078
1079Blue-eyes turns the corner in front of them and raises his wand. Hagrid tosses a third sphere at him, but right as it hits the ground, the man jerks at it, and the ball—and a good bit of concrete around it—disappears with a crack.
1080
1081Hagrid grabs Harry by the collar and bodily slams his way through a door. Alarm spells scream in Harry's ear for a half second before they cut off. A masked fellow cracks into the space by the backdoor, but takes a bullet to the back before he can turn around. Not even pausing, Hagrid throws Harry through the door, and swipes a pile of sticks off a counter.
1082
1083"Where did—where did everyone go?" Harry looks around frantically for someone, for help.
1084
1085"'E's corralin' us. The Alley's bigger'n it looks. Mostly abandoned…" Hagrid trails off, as he sorts though the sticks in his hand—shaking his head, and tossing them onto the ground one by one.
1086
1087"I think that's all o' them 'cept the Blue feller," Hagrid says, just as a masked man covered in broken glass crashes into Hagrid. Hagrid—with frankly unbelievable agility for his size—rolls with the tackle, and in one fluid motion, stands, and throws the man through another shopfront window. Alarms chirp for a half second again and cut out.
1088
1089"'Ere, grab me hand." Hagrid cracks the stick, and Harry feels an intense gust of wind as the world whirlpools around him. His head spins, and he dry heaves again, falling to his knees. Wind, and a light rain buffets them both.
1090
1091"Blast, still?!" Hagrid gasps. His wand flickers in the air, doing little more than make a soft cutting sound with each swipe.
1092
1093Harry looks around—they've teleported to a roof. It still has the characteristic style of Diagonal Alley, if a bit less seedy than the streets below.
1094
1095Suddenly, everything feels a hundred times heavier, and Harry collapses to the ground. Hagrid falls to one knee and groans. Yelling, he grabs Harry by the scruff of the jacket, and leaps off to the next roof. The overwhelming heaviness cuts off midjump, and Hagrid cracks another stick right as they touch the ground.
1096
1097The world doesn't stop spinning when the swirling teleportation ends, this time. The lights are brighter, and there are voices on the streets below, but Harry's will to continue has broken. Light raindrops tickle Harry's face—little pinpricks of cold. Such a strange sensation—such a strange thing to focus on at such a terrifying time.
1098
1099"C'mon Harry, we're almost te some 'elp," Hagrid groans to his feet again, but the immense weight crashes down upon them again, and Hagrid's flattened, too.
1100
1101Where did my books go? Harry wonders. He's distracted—blinking.
1102
1103A dark silhouette punctuated with a glowing blue point rises up the edge of the far balcony. It glides towards Harry, and the silhouette gradually gives shape to the man—worn robes, black shoes—scarred forearms.
1104
1105The man approaches Harry, and he can see the finer features of his face—the stubble on his cheeks, the light scarring around his neck—even the profound scar running vertically through the blue eye, cheekbone to eyebrow. Most of prominent of all, though—completely seizing Harry's attention—he can see the cactus-shaped scar on his forehead, just barely obscured by the man's dark hair.
1106
1107"Moderatus non hadamardus projectus." Says Blue-eye, pointing his wand at Harry.
1108
1109"Sorry…’Arry," Hagrid says, as he tilts the gun towards Harry and fires.
1110
1111
1112
1113Chapter 11
1114
1115If the merchants are to be believed, Merlin had thirty toes, six arms, and between 3 and 13 eyes—always a prime number. A finger of Merlin is sometimes a chocolatey treat, other times, a powerful, forbidden relic whose purpose they could not possibly begin to explain to you. That they have forty such fingers in their possession, and that their competitor has another forty just around the corner does not bother them—Merlin had infinitely many fingers, you see.
1116
1117-Excerpt from Tales from the Silk Road
1118
1119A tremendous boom shatters all of the nearby windows. Harry's eyes are closed, but he's feeling—decidedly not shot? He opens his eyes to see Albus, kneeling next to him, ringed by shattered roof tiles and faintly warped space.
1120
1121Albus's left hand touches the wand jutting from Harry's pocket. In his right, between index finger and thumb, he pinches a bullet, holding it in the air—from Hagrid's gun?
1122
1123"That was reckless, Rubeus," says Albus.
1124
1125"Aye," Hagrid sighs, face down.
1126
1127Blue-eye pauses—the first hint of an emotion crosses his face—not concern, or even surprise—curiosity maybe?
1128
1129"May I borrow your wand, Harry?" says Albus, eyes not leaving the scarred man.
1130
1131"Oh—y-yes sir," say Harry—heartbeat pounding in his ears, paralyzed by fear.
1132
1133Blue-eye cocks his head to the side, and raises his wand in a lazy fighting stance. Albus runs one finger along the length of the wand, pausing in the middle to twist it, and it—breaks? Or rather, it swings, as if it's hinged? Then, he swings the newly-jointed wand around until it's perfectly balanced, point upwards, in the center of his palm.
1134
1135The men stare at each other for a beat, motionless—Blue-eye in his almost pedestrian fighting stance, Albus perfectly still with the wand balanced on his palm.
1136
1137Blue-eye scowls, then a snarl creeps along his mouth—he screams a primal, guttural scream, slashes the air with his wand, and disappears in a crack. Dust and loose paper swirl in the void left by the man.
1138
1139"Hm," says Albus, as Harry passes out.
1140
1141Harry awakens—once again—to strangely calming light and intrusive thoughts of well-being. He sits up, and he's back in the infirmary, with heavy canvas partitions surrounding his bed. Muffled, just out of earshot, he hears the unmistakable sharp, unkind clips of an argument in progress—too distant for the words to take a shape beyond a general edge of fury.
1142
1143A bowl of fruits, a muffin, and a glass of orange juice sit by the bed by a pile of books—probably the same bundle Hagrid had before? The previous evening suddenly rushes back into Harry's mind and he becomes overwhelmingly dizzy, falling back into the bed. Right. He had been attacked. Again. It feels unreal. Precisely as unreal as everything else about this strange place, like the memory had a false quality to it. There weren't really magical spells and strange pointy creatures and alleys that broke all the laws of space, were there?
1144
1145Harry tries a piece of fruit, and, determining it to be absolutely delicious, crams the rest of the food into his mouth, as if it might disappear at any moment. Madame Pomfrey parts the canvas with a curt swipe, and enters, just as Harry's mouth reaches full muffin capacity.
1146
1147"Good morning Mister Potter. How are you feeling?" she asks, making a great effort to sound warm, but the scowl on her brow betrays her. Harry can tell the scowl isn't really directed at him, but it's no less intimidating.
1148
1149"Mrrgmn," says Harry.
1150
1151"Excellent," she says, holding up a hand-lens and a wand, "I'm performing some diagnostics. Despite the…events…of the previous evening, you seem to be in excellent, if a bit malnourished, health." She waves the wand around in the air, muttering to herself. Harry swallows the huge fruit-muffin-juice glob.
1152
1153"Did you know your arm was fractured?" she says, suddenly.
1154
1155"Ah, um, yes that makes sense. Maybe six months ago? I should be better now…" Harry trails off.
1156
1157"It was not set correctly. Would you like me to fix it?" she continues in a slow circuit around the bed, muttering and waving her arm.
1158
1159"I, oh, yes. Wait, um, will it hurt?"
1160
1161She pauses and lowers the wand, her mouth forming a thin line, "No Mister Potter, it will not hurt. Would you like me to do it now?"
1162
1163Harry looks at his arm, and his mind stutters. "Y-yes," he says, after a long pause.
1164
1165She flits the wand up and down, mutters something under her breath, and the arm is awash in alternating cold and warmth.
1166
1167"What—who were those people?"
1168
1169"People that would tear down all of creation but to see a prophecy come to pass," Albus dips his head into the enclosure. Madame Pomfrey shoots him a death-glare.
1170
1171"Albus, I—,"
1172
1173"Poppy, I know. Please." They have a glaring match for a second or six. It's not much of a match—Madam Pomfrey' glare seems to have been hardened on the edge of a thousand injustices. Albus just looks tired. She sighs, and walks towards the flap.
1174
1175"Don't." she says, turning to him, wand pointed directly at his gut, and leaves the enclosure.
1176
1177Albus collapses into a seat next to Harry with an enormous sigh.
1178
1179"I apologize Harry. It may be a hollow promise, but I still believe Hogwart's Castle to be the safest place for you. But I understand if you want to leave, considering I have not been able to keep you safe for even one day."
1180
1181Harry looks down at the bed, and turns the trauma of the previous day around in his mind like a ball of putty. Fear—pain—loss—homesickness even—they all register as emotions he should be feeling, but they're either all stuck trying to come through the same door, or he's too tired to feel much of anything at all. Instead of responding directly, Harry deflects:
1182
1183"What…happened?"
1184
1185"A group of fanatics wanted to do something to you. They may have succeeded, but it is quite difficult to tell, considering the circumstances. I hope you will forgive me, but I performed several powerful ward spells on you before you awoke and we spoke that first time. The spells were meant to alert me immediately should you come under any harm, or even threat of harm. It's encouraging, then, that whatever the fellow cast upon you did not trip these wards. It's more concerning that we do not know what he cast."
1186
1187"The man with the blue eye."
1188
1189"Indeed," Albus looks into the middle distance, eyes unfocused.
1190
1191"What..was that? Some kind of spell?"
1192
1193Albus pauses and frowns. After a few moments, he draws back his sleeve and touches his left eye. It's slow—like a cloud drifting by to reveal the sun—but in moments, it burns with a familiar, brilliant blue glow. Harry feels a tickle of fear, but it's pressed down and away, as the color fades and Albus's normal eye returns.
1194
1195"It was an Eye of Merlin. As you can see, I have the left. That man apparently has the right. This is concerning not only because I destroyed the right Eye many years ago, but because of what the Eye tends to do to its user. It is not that it is cursed per se, simply that it offers something of a, hm, dangerous perspective."
1196
1197Harry flexes his hand under the sheets, "You're being..um, very vague."
1198
1199Albus smiles, "Hm, yes. Well, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Much has been written about the Eyes, and very little of what has been written has come from users. It is enshrined in legend as an artifact that allows the user to see the Future. This is not quite the truth, but it can certainly seem that way when up against it. If this were the truth, then, as you have been keen to point out in your conversations with Hagrid, its existence would beget all manner of paradox."
1200
1201"You were…listening?"
1202
1203"Hah, no my boy, I simply spoke with Hagrid. You seem to have something of a fascination with destiny," Albus winks. His smiles doesn't reach his eyes. He looks down at his hands.
1204
1205"To be as clear as I can, the Right Eye reveals probable futures, and the Left Eye reveals probable pasts. Stare into either abyss for too long, and, well…" Albus trails off.
1206
1207"That's how he was cancelling Hagrid's spells?"
1208
1209"Ah, yes. Terribly difficult to do in practice. But it was more than that, I think. It's one thing to be able to predict what someone will cast—it's another to be familiar enough with the spell to counter-cast it. He knew every spell Hagrid knew, and likely most spells I knew, too, given his confidence." Albus frowns again.
1210
1211"The scar…" says Harry, hand flexing.
1212
1213"Indeed Harry. It was you—an older you, but, unmistakably, you."
1214
1215
1216
1217Chapter 12
1218
1219The first self-consistent magical time loop was used to prove that white always has a winning move in chess. The second self-consistent magical time loop was used for an adulterous tryst. The third self-consistent magical time loop revealed the first two self-consistent time loops to be the result of an earlier self-consistent time loop.
1220
1221-Chronomancy Demystified, Remystified by Jurgen Park
1222
1223"Why is an older me trying to kill me? Why—how isn't that a paradox? What—" Harry cuts off and squeezes his hands together under the sheets.
1224
1225"A young boy was prophesied to defeat a Dark King. The wording of such prophecies are ambiguous, and often so vague as to be useless—in fact, all we know about magic requires them to be nearly useless."
1226
1227"You can't tell it to me, can you?"
1228
1229Albus sighs and fusses with the stitching at his sleeve. "Worse, Harry. I do not know it anymore, because I was the one who made it secret. I only know its general shape, and my best impression of that shape I have given to you: that you were prophesied to defeat a Dark King. One can tease out more of a shape by measuring how a prophecy interacts with other forbidden prophecies—there's an art to it—but yours, or perhaps, my sealing of it, has been stubbornly strong. Most alarming, I think, is that I bound the prophecy to become readable once it has come to pass, just as you saw with the text of your story in the Library. Yours, it seems, hasn't yet."
1230
1231Harry pauses and digests the existence of a blurry, unknowable prophecy.
1232
1233"But everyone thinks I defeated … him…"
1234
1235"Because you did Harry. That is what is so perplexing, and maddening about prophecy. At times, I feel they are the cruelest joke of Magic, because they rarely clarify, and so often are self-fulfilling in what they drive people to do—how they drive people to respond. That is why I am being so careful, Harry. Because if I had any guess, the you that you saw last night looked like someone driven to the point of fracture, and the only other times I have seen such…persistence, prophecy has been driver of that ruin."
1236
1237"So you can't tell me anything…" Harry trails off.
1238
1239Albus sighs again. "I can reiterate, as empty as it may seem, that there are two places in the world where you are truly safe. Your home with the Vernons and here at Hogwart's. I can tell you that Voldemort was defeated a very long time ago, by the combined sacrifice of your parents and yourself. He has adherents—adherents that wear the mask you saw last night, and he may always have adherents, and they may always hunt you, but they cannot reach you here, because I am the second most powerful wizard in history, and they are not so bold as to test me."
1240
1241"My parents," Harry says—just the words, hardly any inflection.
1242
1243The old wizard takes a deep breath and frowns. He looks out the window behind Harry and thinks.
1244
1245"I can make excuses, Harry. I'm ever so good at it, having lived as long as I have. I've made enough mistakes, failed enough friends, caused enough tragedies that they come to mind immediately—not because I seek an excuse, but because of my familiarity with destruction. I failed you Harry, personally. I failed you, and I may never atone. The night your parents died is my greatest such failure. I will never forgive myself for allowing you to be trapped in that prison with your Uncle. These are not things I can change, because what has happened is written. I can only offer you the future," he continues to look out the window.
1246
1247The non-pain that he feels with the mentioning of his parents blossoms into something else—a different sort of hurt, a cracked kind of emptiness. Harry tries to push it away, but it's stubborn—like pushing on sand—like trying to shape water. It hurts, and it doesn't go away. Again, he deflects:
1248
1249"Could…you be the Dark King?"
1250
1251Albus smiles a grim smile, and looks back down at Harry, "I have considered the thought more than once. I certainly have the power—the knowledge, the fortitude, the ruthlessness," the smile disappears, "but I do not have one particular quality crucial to royalty: I do not Want. I would sooner destroy all of Merlin's artifacts—tear down the entire edifice of Magic itself, than submit one single being to my will. I teach, Harry, and I defend. The day I break that oath, you have my permission to strike me down."
1252
1253"Voldemort-he-who-must-be-named—" Harry coughs, "—what did he want?"
1254
1255"He wanted to reshape the world—a noble idea, but terribly dangerous in practice. He wanted to free magic from the shackles of fate. So he gathered artifacts that he thought would allow him to do this. When he could not get those artifacts he stole them. When he could not steal them, he killed for them. When he could not kill for them, he subverted, sabotaged, destroyed. He was ruthless because he believed in the purity of his goal—that this universe was worth losing if it meant another could be free to write its own story. But alas, every story is already written, so how could he possibly succeed? It was a riddle that drove him mad."
1256
1257"Did one of those artifacts, um, allow for time-travel?"
1258
1259"Ah, time travel is easy, Harry. Changing what has already happened—now that is the tricky part,"
1260
1261"So it's not impossible?"
1262
1263"I know of one way to do it, which is currently impossible. But of course, what is 'current' is a matter of perspective if such changes could be made, now isn't it?
1264
1265"H-how do you do it?" Harry says, suddenly.
1266
1267"I would not be a mysterious old wizard if I gave up all of my secrets, Harry. But I assure you, some day, I will tell you."
1268
1269Albus stands, takes a wand from his robes, and hands it back to Harry, "Thank you for letting me borrow this," he winks, "but I'm afraid I must return to the festivities of the day—students will be arriving shortly."
1270
1271Harry's stomach sinks, "Oh, right…"
1272
1273"I understand if you want to forego the day's activities—you've suffered enough trauma that I think Madame Pomfrey would throttle me if I asked anything of you. So consider it an offer. You are a full student of Hogwart's, and are free to hole up and read a book in the infirmary for as long as you wish, or you are free to leave and join other first year students in orientation. I would only become concerned if you decided you never wanted to leave the infirmary—or perhaps if you got lost down the hall there," he nods in the direction of the infinite row of beds, "But please, take as long as you need."
1274
1275Without hesitation, "I'll go. Orientation, I mean. I think…I don't think I want to be here…alone."
1276
1277Albus smiles and his eyes brighten, "Excellent, I'll fetch Hagrid. He can lead you towards the first event. And if at any time, for any reason, you are uncomfortable here, let any of the faculty know. They are familiar with your circumstances, and understand that this is your home, now."
1278
1279"I'm already uncomfortable here, but, um, I think that's okay. It's a new thing, right? A whole new world? Would be kind of crazy to be comfortable…" Harry trails off again.
1280
1281"Hmm, would you like to be obscured?"
1282
1283"What?"
1284
1285"Oh, I mean I can make you appear different, if you don't want to draw attention to yourself. As you saw in the Alley, your scar is something of a magnet."
1286
1287"Oh, um, yes—but just the scar though. People don't know what I look like, right?"
1288
1289"Oh, they absolutely do, but it shouldn't be a problem, I think," Albus smiles.
1290
1291
1292
1293Chapter 13
1294
1295…Always.
1296
1297Drury clouds partially obscure the train as it approaches. Occasional squeaks and mechanical thumps echo down the valley, but they don't sound like any train Harry has ever heard before. Not that he's really been on that many trains. Or any trains, for that matter.
1298
1299Thousands of individual interlocking mechanical pieces oscillate forwards and back, side to side, as if the train is powered by an enormous clockwork centipede. Furious plumes of smoke pour out from uneven smokestacks, some grey, some white, some deep red. Rather than inspire the intended awe, Harry watches the thing and feels that empty, wrong fear. Even the train-tracks are wrong—bent, uneven, flying into place just before the train reaches them, and tumbling out into the air and into a compartment in the back in great arcs as it passes.
1300
1301The whole contraption drips with embellishment. Does a school that teaches its students how to teleport really need a magical train that lays its own tracks and siphons them back up as it moves? Even if a reason could be contrived, why all the different colors of smoke? Are magical engines powered by steam? Rather than stare at the train and become more and more discomfited in time, Harry turns to look at the lake. Regular looking birds flap around near the far shore in contrast to the stark oddity of the surroundings. Eldritch horrors probably—well, definitely lurk underneath the surface just yards away.
1302
1303As the train slows to a stop, and for lack of better things to do, Harry turns his critical eye inwards. Does it really help that this world is Magical? Every problem Magic solves also seems to introduce more and yet more problems. Right from the start. It couldn't be worse than his life before…but what if it wasn't any better? After all, Harry doesn't entirely know what life is supposed to feel like. Maybe…maybe it would be worse?
1304
1305Sadness and fear give way to loneliness, as new students trickle out of the impossible train. The students—just dots in the distance—eventually form into rivulets, and the blob flows towards the castle. Isolation might be a way of buffering himself from the cruelties of a world intent on destroying him. Loneliness tickles his core again. Little else has any sort of guarantee.
1306
1307What if no one likes him? As if anyone would want to talk to a boy that had lived in a box under the stairs for years. These kids had already lived a decade of magical life. Classwork would be second-nature to them. Harry can't help but imagine the approaching blob growing larger and larger—dark and smothering and all-consuming. It didn't help that he couldn't see any of their faces. Nothing to do but stew in uncertainty. Great.
1308
1309This is precisely when a book flaps into his face.
1310
1311Harry very nearly falls off his perch on the castle battlements—a perfectly safe perch, as Hagrid had demonstrated when he dove off the side to the ground below—but not so safe that it deactivates those deep, mammalian tendencies to identify apparently falling tens of stories with immediate death.
1312
1313He picks up the book—it's old, smells like mildew—and checks the spine. No title, and no Hogwartsian label on the binding. He flips to the first page:
1314
1315FIRST DAY FRIENDS
1316
1317
1318
1319Then, the next:
1320
1321ABBY, ALPERT
1322
1323ABBY, ANJELICA
1324
1325ABBY, ANNA
1326
1327ABBY, ARTHUR
1328
1329ABBY, BARTHUR
1330
1331ABBY, BREN
1332
1333…
1334
1335Every page, in alphabetical order, are names, each with an individually drawn line through them. The lines are hand-drawn, some neat, some scribbled out—at least one looks burned. Harry keeps turning the pages.
1336
1337…
1338
1339DAISY, WALLUS
1340
1341DAISY, WUNTHER
1342
1343DAISY, ZAYID
1344
1345DRACO, ALPERT
1346
1347DRACO, ANJELICA
1348
1349…
1350
1351The lines with Draco are all multiply-crossed through with red. Curious. He keeps turning. Then, he loses patience and starts fanning through the book. About midway through, a note nearly falls out, and he catches the page indicated by the note:
1352
1353…
1354
1355HERMIONE, RAOUL
1356
1357HERMIONE, REGINALD
1358
1359HERMIONE, RINGO
1360
1361HERMIONE, RON
1362
1363HERMIONE, RUTHIE
1364
1365…
1366
1367'Hermione, Ron' is underlined twice in green. The note reads:
1368
1369I've done the legwork for you, and it's the closest thing to real you're going to get. You'll thank me later. Or not. Cheers. -HP
1370
1371"What." says Harry.
1372
1373DO YOU WANT TO—
1374
1375Harry does fall off the battlements with his wand's outburst—with a yelp—and begins to float gently to the ground.
1376
1377"You—you need to give me some warning!"
1378
1379APOLOGIES MASTER POTTER. DO YOU WANT TO HEAR A STORY ABOUT TIME?
1380
1381"Well, I'm going to be falling for a few minutes so I don't see why not."
1382
1383EXCELLENT. MY STORY IS CALLED 'COBY, THE FIRST TIME TRAVELER'. IT IS ABOUT THE FIRST WIZARD WHO DISCOVERED TIME TRAVEL, NAMED COBY.
1384
1385"That—yes, okay."
1386
1387HERE IS HOW IT GOES: THERE WAS ONCE A WIZARD NAMED COBY AND HE WAS TERRIBLY CLEVER. HE REALIZED THAT, IF ONE COULD TRAVEL THROUGH TIME, ONE COULD SOLVE COMPLICATED PROBLEMS VERY QUICKLY. SO COBY GOES BACK IN TIME AND KILLS HIS GRANDFATHER, THE END.
1388
1389"Wait—that's, what?"
1390
1391OH I'M SORRY I THOUGHT YOU WERE BORED.
1392
1393"No, I'm—! Look, just tell me the story."
1394
1395VERY WELL. COBY DOES NOT GO BACK IN TIME TO KILL HIS GRANDFATHER, HE TRIES TO GO BACK IN TIME TO COMMUNICATE WITH HIS GRANDFATHER BUT FINDS THAT HE IS UNABLE TO.
1396
1397Wind buffets Harry on his fall, but he's not falling much more than a foot or so per second. Harry sighs.
1398
1399"Why is he unable to?"
1400
1401BECAUSE THAT WOULD NOT SATISFY THE DEUSTCH CRITERIA.
1402
1403Harry pinches the bridge of his nose, "What is the Deustsch criteria?"
1404
1405A BETTER QUESTION WOULD BE, 'WHAT DID HE DO WHEN HE WAS BACK IN TIME, IF HE FOUND HE COULDN'T COMMUNICATE WITH HIS GRANDFATHER?'
1406
1407"Yes, okay, that one."
1408
1409VERY LITTLE. HE TRIPPED OVER AND BRAINED HIMSELF ON A ROCK. HE WOKE UP IN A HOSPITAL THREE WEEKS AFTER THE POINT WHEN HE'D ORIGINALLY TRAVELED BACK IN TIME, SIXTY YEARS LATER.
1410
1411"That's awful!"
1412
1413INDEED.
1414
1415"Wait, so time, like, intervened¸ and prevented him from changing the past?"
1416
1417NO, THAT WOULD BE THE ROCK.
1418
1419"You know what I mean!"
1420
1421MANY WIZARDS THOUGHT SO. THEY AWAITED HIS RETURN FOR WEEKS UNTIL HE WOKE UP THREE WEEKS AFTER HIS FIRST EXPERIMENT. AFTER ALL, IF ALL WENT ACCORDING TO PLAN, HE SHOULD'VE BEEN RIGHT BACK, THE MOMENT AFTER HE LEFT. FOR A TIME, CHRONOMANCY WAS ABANDONED, BECAUSE IT WAS DEEMED TOO DANGEROUS. BUT THEN A WIZARD NAMED DEUSTCH PROVED EVERYONE WRONG.
1422
1423Harry passes by a Gargoyle. It stares at him, teeth barred. Harry sighs again.
1424
1425"How did Deustch prove everyone wrong?"
1426
1427HE PROVED THAT AS LONG AS ANYTHING YOU DID DURING YOUR TRAVELS WAS CONSISTENT WITH WHAT ALREADY OCCURRED—TIME TRAVEL IS PERFECTLY PERMISSIBLE. IT WAS SIMPLY AN UNFORTUNATE ACCIDENT THAT COBY BRAINED HIMSELF ON A ROCK AND WAS THEN IN A COMA FOR SIXTY YEARS.
1428
1429"That's—Albus said something similar. That time travel doesn't let you change anything. Except that you can! And you're being just as confusing!"
1430
1431THE MISTAKE IS TO THINK OF TIME AS A MALEVOLENT FORCE. TIME DOES NOT CARE, MASTER POTTER. NATURE ONLY DEMANDS CONSISTENCY. THE QUESTION, THEN, IS WHAT DOES THAT ALLOW YOU TO DO?
1432
1433"Well I don't know! I learned about time travel yesterday! I didn't even learn about it actually. I just learned that apparently it exists."
1434
1435IT IS NOT MEANT TO BE A RIDDLE, MASTER POTTER. ONLY CONTEXT.
1436
1437"Well thank you for the context," Harry grumbles.
1438
1439YOU ARE MOST WELCOME.
1440
1441Harry pauses, "Wait, this is about the book isn't it?—"
1442
1443"Oi, ‘Arry, this way! Saw ye fallin' there," Hagrid trudges up through a stretch of tall grass.
1444
1445"Students are 'ere, this way, this way!"
1446
1447
1448
1449Chapter 14
1450
1451Oh but to behold Hogwart's for the first time, just once again. They say it stares back at you, just as you stare at it—that it judges and reflects. Your history is writ on the face of it. And the Gargoyles! Well, as long as it's not breeding season, the gargoyles are a majestic sight, indeed!
1452
1453-Diary Excerpt, Jannkus Le'Roy courtesy The Le'Roy Family Trust
1454
1455Harry stuffs the book in his backpack, and approaches Hagrid.
1456
1457"Hagrid I—"
1458
1459"Sorry abou'—"
1460
1461They both pause. Hagrid laughs, "Woz just gonna say, sorry bout' shootin' ye and all. Woz pretty sure it wouldn't hurt ye,"
1462
1463"Wait, pretty sure?!"
1464
1465They begin to wade through the tall grass, on a sideways approach to the blob of students in the distance.
1466
1467"Me gun ain't lethal mind ye, but it packs a wallop. Shoulda realized Albus had warded ye earlier n' I did…"
1468
1469"It's…okay Hagrid. Thank you for taking me out to see the Alley. Even if it was kind of a fiasco…"
1470
1471"A course, ‘Arry. Hope we can sort out how to take ye there without any crazy folks tryin' to attack ye. What were ye gonna say?"
1472
1473"Oh, um, I got hit by a flying book,"
1474
1475"Wot?" Hagrid turns, "Well tha's strange."
1476
1477"So it's not, like, a first day Hogwart's ritual? To get hit by a flying book that tells you who you should be friends with?"
1478
1479"‘Arry that's the strangest thing I ever heard. You sure yer okay after that fall?"
1480
1481Harry sighs. They round the back of the train—its clicks and hisses grow louder and louder. The wheels jitter—almost nervous—and a side door opens as they approach. Flaps and pistons wiggle and rotate in a busy mosaic of motion. Smokes sighs out of the machine. Under a hatch, a dark orb that Harry thought was a porthole blinks.
1482
1483"Ahhg, it's alive?!"
1484
1485"Oh, wot, the train? Yeh, found 'er in a circus in Phuket. Don't worry—perfectly safe," Hagrid smiles.
1486
1487Harry is increasingly unconvinced by Hagrid's ability to discriminate between what is and is not safe, but, nonetheless, steps into the hatch.
1488
1489"Well, aright, just slip through thar, and catch up to the group—no-one should be tha wiser. If ye need anythin'—anythin' at all, jus' find one of us faculty-folks,"
1490
1491Harry looks around the interior—it's lush and spacious, but not spacious in that space-bending way—just generally well designed. Food carts rest unattended at each door, and the noise of the train is well-obscured by the thick wall padding.
1492
1493A pillow slowly crawls along a seat in Harry's peripheral vision, but freezes when Harry turns to stares at it.
1494
1495Harry frowns, but turns to Hagrid, "Um, th-thanks again, Hagrid. For everything,"
1496
1497"O' course, ‘Arry. Lemme know how your first day goes later—gotta wrangle some beasts in the meantime." Hagrid salutes, and wades back into the tall grass.
1498
1499When Harry turns back, the pillow is gone. He sighs, steels himself, and steps through to the exit on the other side of the train.
1500
1501Surprisingly, he still isn't the last person off. Stepping off to the other side, he looks down the length of the gently pulsating train and sees the occasional student dragging oversized trunks out of the far carriages. It's as good a clandestine arrival as any. He cinches the straps on his backpack, and trudges onwards.
1502
1503One pair of such stragglers is immediately ahead of him, one carting a comically small, but apparently ludicrously heavy trunk, and the other, well, accosting him. Harry approaches them, warily.
1504
1505"Why does it matter that they aren't upset by the injustice? That doesn't mean they aren't being wronged!" she isn't yelling, but she's poised for a fight—book in hand, ferocity in eye.
1506
1507The boy slides his trunk in uneven bursts of effort. He groans and pauses.
1508
1509"I'm just sayin', it seems like an awful waste of time to do somethin' that none of em really seem to care about."
1510
1511"You don't know that!"
1512
1513"I mean, no, but…"
1514
1515She whips around towards Harry, "Hey! You! Did you know that Nilbugs can't vote?"
1516
1517Harry freezes, "Oh, uhm, no—but—,"
1518
1519"Is it, or is it not a tragedy that a creature that is just as crucial to the life of Magical Britain as any other and just as smart if not smarter than a human has no say in what happens in the government?"
1520
1521"To be honest…I didn't know what a Nilbug was until yesterday…"
1522
1523Her fury softens for a beat, "Oh, you grew up Muggle. Me too! Wait, haven't I seen you before?"
1524
1525She scrunches up her nose and considers Harry.
1526
1527"Oh I, um, probably not. I'm, uh—H—Harry," Harry extends a hand.
1528
1529She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, "That's the worst fake name I've ever heard. You're Harry, aren't you? Harry Potter?"
1530
1531She seizes his hand and performs a single shake, "I'm Hermione,"
1532
1533Alarms ring in Harry's brain—it couldn't be—it couldn't possibly—
1534
1535"He doesn't have the scar!" The boy turns and stares at his forehead, "Couldn't be." The boy sighs, defeated, and sits on his trunk in exhaustion, "I'm Ron. Met this'n," he nods towards Hermione, "on the train."
1536
1537"I uh…hm."
1538
1539"Don't worry Harry, if you're trying to be sneaky, we'll keep your secret," she glares at Ron.
1540
1541"It isn't him! No cactus!"
1542
1543"You think it's impossible to make a cactus scar invisible? After growing up in Magical Britain? As you stand, of all places, on the front garden of Hogwart's?"
1544
1545"I'm just sayin'! Of all the explanations you might have, that Harry here is secretly the defeater of Voldemort-he-who-must-be-named just 'cause you think he looks familiar, and because Harry Potter is rumored to be somewhere in this class, is a bit of a stretch!"
1546
1547Harry sighs and pokes his forehead—the cactus shimmers into view as he touches it, but re-obscures when he removes his finger.
1548
1549"Bloody hell!"
1550
1551Hermione nods, satisfied.
1552
1553"You're…you're!"
1554
1555"Ron, he clearly wants to be clandestine. Otherwise he wouldn't have gone to all this trouble!"
1556
1557"Guys…" Harry trails off. They turn to look at him. Harry heaves a tremendous sigh, "Do you…need help with that trunk?"
1558
1559"Yes." Says Ron, making a face at Hermione.
1560
1561"Bloody hell," Ron mutters to himself, as they swing the crate forwards.
1562
1563"Why uh is it so heavy?"
1564
1565"Cause my brothers are absolute tossers."
1566
1567"It's enchanted to be light, but Ron is pretty sure one of his brothers filled it up with rocks or something."
1568
1569"You can't see?"
1570
1571"His brothers also locked it,"
1572
1573"Your brothers don't sound very nice."
1574
1575They approach the crowd from behind. Most cluster around a gate with glowing letters counting down—still a few minutes away from whatever awaits. Nearly everyone has self-organized into groups of two or three, occasionally all turning to look at some bizarre newly-noticed feature of the castle. Hogwart's, in turn, looms. Its parapets drift slowly by—shifting, rotating just barely slow enough to detect, and the gargoyles, having arranged themselves on the roof, look to be in the throes of some terrifying slow-motion combat.
1576
1577"What if you cast it twice?" asks Hermione.
1578
1579"Uhm, maybe that would work. I don't entirely know the spell though…"
1580
1581"That's such a versatile spell! How could you not have that memorized!"
1582
1583"There's like a hundred million versatile spells, Hermione!"
1584
1585"Does the, uh, weightlessness spell? Do you know the limit of it?"
1586
1587"Barely—I think it makes things a hundred times lighter...I really don't want to know what's in here if that's true. Why?"
1588
1589"My wand said, well, I guess implied that spells can kind of be stretched if you know what you're doing. Which uh makes sense given what I've tried."
1590
1591"Wait, what?"
1592
1593Hermione turns to him, "What do you mean, 'my wand said'?"
1594
1595Harry takes his wand out of his pocket, "I guess I'm confused why you're confused. Don't you guys have wands?"
1596
1597"Of course, but you said it talked?"
1598
1599"Yeah?"
1600
1601"Harry, wands don't talk."
1602
1603
1604
1605Chapter 15
1606
1607The portraiture of Hogwart's had to be taken down for several weeks after an image of the Dark King was discovered in secret nook of the Slytherin common room. Headmaster Dumbledore assured the authorities that the projection was not able to escape, but a good quarter of the portrait-residences still have scars of the attempt, and at least four students were temporarily blinded. 
1608
1609Chiarobscuro – Portraits of Magical Britain by Darvid Feidermen
1610
1611"What do you mean wands don't talk?! My wand's been talking to me for like two days!"
1612
1613Harry feels his wand buzz in his hand, and it makes him jump.
1614
1615Ron and Hermione give him strange looks.
1616
1617"I haven't ever heard of anything like that. Where's its brain supposed to be?"
1618
1619"Magic can do a lot, Harry, but minds are complicated. Are you sure it's…fully conscious? It's not just copying things you're saying or something? It might be hexed…"
1620
1621Harry squeezes his fists in frustration, "It…no. It's—it's very much alive and apparently knows a tremendous amount about magic and is being completely silent right now for some reason."
1622
1623"Well that's quite strange."
1624
1625"You got it from the whacky old codger at Olivander's?"
1626
1627"No, um, Albus gave it to me."
1628
1629Hermione pauses—"Albus gave you his wand?"
1630
1631"Well, I mean, I don't know if it's his wand."
1632
1633Hermione digs her wand out of a pouch in her backpack and holds it aloft next to Harry's.
1634
1635"They look the same. I guess—it could be?"
1636
1637Ron takes out his wand—it's different, a bit ruddier, "Looks like both of yours are Master copies. My dad gave me his old one," he smiles proudly.
1638
1639"Copies?"
1640
1641"Yeah—lotta wands are copies of old famous wands. Some old Italian wizard made a bunch of wands in the 1700s which got super popular, called 'em Master wands. Both o' yours look like copies. There are some copies of Dumbledore's wand, but it's kinda gauche to wave around the Eldar wand if you aren't, well, Dumbledore."
1642
1643"So it's not Dumbledore's wand?"
1644
1645A tremendous bellchime rattles and silences the collection of students. Instead of swinging open, the individual bars of the gate separate and float upwards—bending, twisting. The ground rumbles as a vast moat sinks around the castle, punctuated by a second tremendous bell-chime. Water floods into the moat and crashes into a wave that sends spray far above the heads of the students, but the spray slows—the sharp features of the turbulent water arrest, and it softens into a great blob of water that settles back slowly into the moat. All the while, the gargoyles continue their brutal, glacial fight. As the bulk of the water sinks below ground level, a wide path is revealed, leading to the front door. With a crack, Albus appears in front of them.
1646
1647"Welcome," he says.
1648
1649The students stand by, collectively awed.
1650
1651"You have all been selected because you each have something in you that is exceptional. I need not remind many of you that the existence of this school is not a constant—education, in the abstract, is not a certainty. Indeed, there are more stories of ruin in the Library housed by my school than you will ever be able to fully understand. It is my hope that your time at this school is but one component of a tilt towards Good—just one small beat in the collection of great stories you all have to tell.
1652
1653"Right now, Hogwart's probably appears Awesome to you. But the reputation of this castle is nothing other than what its students go out and do. Part of that is what fantastical knots you are able to create with the great fabric of Magic. But more importantly—greater than any Magic you will ever find—are the bonds you will develop over your seven years here.
1654
1655"So, let us proceed, and see where the first bit of that story takes us,"
1656
1657He turns, and walks towards the castle. The students wait—unsure if they're supposed to follow—but a blonde-haired boy strides out after him, confident and poised. Soonafter, the others follow—hushed silence dissolving into excited whispers as they filter towards castle.
1658
1659"So!" Ron elbows Harry, "What house do ya think it'll find you in?"
1660
1661Shortly after entering the doors, a mass-weightlessness spell had lifted all the luggage into the air. The ridiculous too-small trunk floats ahead of them, only occasionally needing a gentle nudge forwards.
1662
1663Harry still grips his wand, frowning, but ignores the mystery for the moment—it's decided to be silent, apparently content on letting him stew in confusion. He turns to Ron, "To be honest, I'm kind of sour on this whole 'reveal your future' business. Why can't we just choose?"
1664
1665"What's to say you aren't?"
1666
1667"It seems like we explicitly aren't! One of the teachers here told me it looks into your future. There doesn't seem to be any choice there…" Harry trails off.
1668
1669"I like to think of it as revealing what we would have chosen, if we had a choice. I've never heard of someone being unsatisfied with their placement," Hermione twiddles a lock of hair with a finger, "That's not to say I'm not nervous…"
1670
1671"Well pretty much my entire family has been in Gryffindors. Can't imagine I end up anywhere else," Ron beams.
1672
1673Harry makes an effort not to look at the constantly shifting walls and trudges forward, frowning, "Well, if I had to pick, I guess maybe the new house. I don't really know anything about all of this stuff. Might be a good place to get my bearings."
1674
1675Ron snorts, "What, Jokelsnore's? Harry, nobody wants to be in the new house. It's a stain on the school. Some chump in the Warzengambit bribed his way into making a vanity house. It's—it's a travesty!"
1676
1677"I dunno! A teacher described all the house to me and none of them really—connected."
1678
1679"I guess as long as it isn't Slytherin…"
1680
1681"Okay what is actually wrong with Slytherin? The guy I talked to was from Gryffindor so I don't think it was an honest, uh, picture of them?"
1682
1683"They're the archnemesis of Gryffindor is what's wrong with them! Red 'n green, Harry! Fire and water! Uh, sugar and…and salt!"
1684
1685"That's not an explanation!"
1686
1687"I think…" Hermione starts but pauses. Ron and Harry look at her.
1688
1689"No, nevermind."
1690
1691Ron and Harry look at each other.
1692
1693"Well, what is it!"
1694
1695"I shouldn't say."
1696
1697"Come on, out with it!"
1698
1699"I—."
1700
1701"Voldemort," says a blonde haired boy, butting in. "It's probably what she doesn't want to say."
1702
1703"Oh," says Harry. Ron actually hisses at him. "You didn't..uh, the thing, with the 'he-who-'…," Harry trails off.
1704
1705"It's the worst sort of curse-by-association," the boy says, bored, "made it so everyone in his house can say his name without the embarrassing word-curse. But, I think Weasley here has the gist of it. Ancient house, ancient rivalry. Not much else different between us if you can get over that," he smiles, empty.
1706
1707"Oh piss off McFloppy—Slytherins are nothing like Gryffindors,"
1708
1709Ron and the boy verbally spar with each other for a while, and Harry tunes them out, instead focusing on his wand. It still buzzes, faintly, but doesn't speak. He tries to focus on the buzzing—willing it to respond. There's structure in the buzzing, but it's almost like it's too far away—through several walls, heard through a pillow.
1710
1711"—Draco,"
1712
1713Harry perks up, "What?"
1714
1715"She knows who you are, doofus. Everyone does. Your dad is infamous enough."
1716
1717"Well, I'm not my father, Weasley." Draco sighs, "This has been delightful. Good talk, everyone, I'll see you around Hermione, Harry," he nods at Harry, almost knowingly, and drifts back towards something like a posse of six students on the other side of the hall.
1718
1719"The hell was that all about!" fumes Ron.
1720
1721"I don't think you're being entirely fair, Ron," Hermione says.
1722
1723"He's the enemy! 'Course I'm being fair! Don't grab a snake by the mouth, Hermione! Don't do it!"
1724
1725"I've…never heard anyone suggest you should,"
1726
1727"You know what I mean!"
1728
1729"I don't think I do…"
1730
1731"He could say—his name. Uh Voldemort-he-who-must-be-named. But he hasn't been Searched yet?"
1732
1733"Don't need to search too hard to see where he'll end up," Ron grumps.
1734
1735"I think…Albus could do it too? Is there a way around the curse or something?"
1736
1737"No," says Hermione, "Dumbledore was in Slytherin."
1738
1739"Well, he's the only exception! Everyone else is trash! Trashgarbage!"
1740
1741Harry notices a blonde girl, a bit on the other side of Draco's group, staring at him. They lock eyes for a moment, but she breaks contact after a beat. She looks back, sees he's still looking, and then darts forwards, putting distance between them.
1742
1743"Uh…"
1744
1745"What is it?"
1746
1747"I think…she recognizes me?" Harry points ahead, tracking the girl as she fades into the crowd ahead.
1748
1749"Oh, blondie? Don't worry about Lupa. She's harmless—bonkers, but harmless."
1750
1751
1752
1753 
1754
1755Author's Notes, Chs. 1-10
1756
1757Thanks for (still) reading! Updates seem to be happening on Tuesdays and Saturdays. This should happen without too much difficulty until Ch. 30ish. I've been Nanowrimo-ing this, so I'm building up a bit of a backlog of chapters to post, but I don't think that production rate is sustainable through the holidays. The good news is that this will keep me afloat through the holidays, but come January I'll be interning, and may have considerably less time to spend on this project.
1758
1759That said, this is planned roughly through to the end.
1760
1761Some various thoughts on what is already written:
1762
1763Ch. 1-3: Really, I was trying to establish that this is not anything like J. 's Harry Potter world at all. I seem to have been successful. We'll see more, larger departures later.
1764
1765Ch. 4: All this [classified] business is based on Zero Knowledge Proofs—a neat idea for how you can prove mathematical statements to people without revealing any of the details of the proof. Much of the economy of magical Britain (as well as the causal-consistency-enforcement of the library books later) is based upon this.
1766
1767Ch. 5: Rot13 for a supremely unhelpful hint (not even really a spoiler, but may tip people off on something): Puncgre svir unf n frperg
1768
1769Ch. 6: This chapter should be a strong hint that this story is going to be meta as hell. Also no I don't know latin don't make fun of me google translate is your friend.
1770
1771Ch. 7: The wand's ruminations about what is or is not a book and what is or is not a spell are a hint that, whatever magic is doing, it's somehow solving the Symbol Grounding Problem. Of course, a 'sufficiently advanced classifier' could do this too, but you know what they say about sufficiently advanced things.
1772
1773Ch. 8: The nested squares thing Harry's describing on the books is a way of encoding an infinitely long quaternary sequence in a square (because magic lest you have infinitely small things). I really should just post a picture of what I mean. I needed a way to encode an arbitrary real number as the book's 'index' (i.e., its index in the Hogwart's Library), but also the freedom to define other auxiliary real numbers related to the index. This is a simplish way of doing that. H/t to Scott A. for pointing out such a n indexing system for a real physical collection of uncountably many objects requires the Axiom of Choice. (More specifically, you need a well-ordering of the Real Numbers (library indices are in the open interval (0,1)).
1774
1775Re: 'Diagon Alley', I did not realize Diagon Alley was a pun on Diagonally until I was into my twenties. Also, if you don't believe Hagrid writes self-help books in his spare time, then I don't know what to tell you.
1776
1777Ch. 9's spellchain is my attempt to make a 'real' commodities market for magical Britain, in the form of a crypto-currency that acts both as a currency and as a commodity. If someone wants to implement Spellcoin, feel free—I suspect it wouldn't be too hard if you trained an RNN on harry potter spells, and used the ID of individually mined coins as some part of the randomness token for the generated text. The problem is that spells aren't exactly uh divisible, and you'd need some way of standardizing what generator to use for the actual spell-identities. This could be baked into the spell-mining software, of course, but it would be nice to be able to update it over time as generative text networks get better and better.
1778
1779Ch. 10: Of course there's going to be time travel too.