Standard Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or Pathfinder
A/N This is the result of a nagging plot bunny for the past week. I wanted to combine some elements of Harry has a twin in a non conventional way, as in I don't think the Potters would sink to abuse. I always thought the whole Abusive!Potters was kind of strange. But the Potters kind of ignoring Harry, that made more sense.
This will be a crossover of Harry Potter with a Pathfinder rule set. I'm not sure if I should have character sheets, I'm still undecided. The overall plot up to this point has basically been the same, but his brother, Godric, is the boy-who-lived. This is not a WBWL story, Godric is the BWL. But then again, the prophecy never explicitly said that it was about the BWL.
The flickering lights exploded over the group, clouding their vision. The last image of their home dimension was the furious look on James' and Lily's faces as they crested their hill towards the ritual circle.
Seeking the comfort of touch, Harry and Luna both reached for each others hands moments before searing pain overcame them.
Harry had never before realized that essentially having your atoms dematerialized and smashed against the dimensional barrier could lead him to be so introspective, or that it hurt so much. Indeed, the pain seemed to only increase the reflection of the past weeks events that lead to this current predicament of standing in front of the lake at Godric's Hollow with a group of dimensional hoppers and his lovely girlfriend.
His last coherent thought before he crossed the dimensional boundary was that Luna was right, this was a nice day.
Harry was having a fairly decent summer so far. The summer after his fourth year was just coming to an end, and it had proved to be fairly uneventful so far. Harry was honestly excited to be leaving for Hogwarts in just two days, at least then he would be away from his brothers constant moping.
The end of fourth year had not been a pleasant affair, culminating with the rise of Voldemort and the death of the Hogwarts champion, after several events of worrying and stress for his brother's safety. 'Honestly,' Harry mused, 'a dragon in the first task? Did they not expect any contestants for the other tasks?'
He was currently cooped up in his room, decorated in brilliant hues of blue and silver, doing his Charms work. He was bent over his desk, furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment, when the familiar sound of a door creaking open sounded behind him.
"Harry, it's a beautiful day outside, why don't we go looking for Crumple-horned-snorkacks outside by the lake?"
Smiling softly to himself, Harry set aside his quill and turned around in his chair. In the doorway stood his beautiful girlfriend Luna Lovegood. The light from the hall struck her hair in such a way that it appeared a brilliant halo.
Drinking in her features, her slightly buggy blue eyes, her wand behind her ear, her dreamy expression, and her developing feminine curves, he rose from his chair. Closing the distance in a few steps, they shared a tender kiss.
"Of course, I was just about finished anyways. Merlin knows it will do me good to get outside." he replied. "I think I've gotten paler than Malfoy avoiding Godric all summer." Perhaps that was a lie, he had been outside quite a bit searching for fantastic creatures, in fact he would probably be said to be the tannest he had ever been.
Giggling a bit, the two teens clasped hands and traversed the winding halls of the Potter ancestral home. The walls were covered in typical Gryffindor colors, punctuated by portraits that called out to the young pair. Luna would always greet these portraits by name.
Stepping nimbly outside, the duo slowly traipsed down the winding path of the entrance towards the end of the Manor wards. The elder Potters were hesitant to allow the two outside with the rise of Voldemort, but Harry had managed to convince them that no one even knew the home was there, especially not Voldemort.
The wonders of the Fidelius charm were truly amazing, despite the adamant refusal by Lily to teach her son the charm.
The silence of the property was comfortable, each reflecting on their good luck to have each other. Before Harry had first met Luna in his third year, he had felt so alone.
Up until that point he felt like he constantly had to live in his brothers shadow. It wasn't that he hated his brother, just the opposite in fact, he was well loved by his family and he loved them in turn despite how aloof they were to him recently. It's just that his housemates didn't necessarily deign to give him the ability to prove himself to be his own person.
From the very moment he set foot in the house of the wise, he was constantly bombarded with questions about his brother. It was hardly a new experience, all their lives people would stop and stare at his brother and ignore him altogether. Their parents made sure to make him feel like he was just as good as his brother, but to have the public disagree simply because of a scar and a title made him feel a bit put out.
Until the sorting, however, he always had his twin's or his parents' affection and attention.
Harry, of course, didn't pay it too much mind, sure that it would simply die out soon. The events of Halloween firmly killed that notion.
The events would be too extraordinary to believe if it hadn't been true. It was almost like something from a fairy tale. A troll loose in a castle, a damsel in distress, and his brother, ever the hero. The situation simply compounded on his difficulties, the rumour mill churned out stories increasingly exaggerated, 'For the last time he didn't use the power of love to kill the troll!' and it of course fell on Harry to confront general public asking him for the truth.
Aside from annoying Harry with barrages of questions, Halloween also signified the dwindling of his brothers attention. It started slowly at first, 'Sorry Harry, I have to study for potions with Hermione. You know how Snape hates me.', or 'Sorry bro, I promised Ron a chess game.'
It wasn't until after Christmas break that they started whispering conspiratorially, researching in the library at all times, that he felt completely excluded. In fact, they had an annoying penchant for glaring daggers at him for daring to interrupt their study sessions.
The event with the Philosophers Stone finally made it clear to Harry that at Hogwarts at least, his brother was just that, his brother, not his best friend, his inseparable prankster pal.
It wasn't that he wanted to risk life and limb to brave the challenges of the stone, but it would have been nice to at least been told. That his brother knew that and didn't want him to come to harm never crossed Harry's mind.
Second year was much the same, he was driven increasingly into his studies when the animosity that the public showed him due to his brother being a parseltongue. Obviously being the brother of an up and coming Dark Wizard is the same as being a Dark Wizard himself. Of course, the public didn't have to know that he was also a parseltongue.
Indeed, it was second year that Harry began to lose hope in the wizarding world as a whole.
The whole flip flop from praise for Godric first year to hatred for them both second did nothing to endear the masses to him. But the ultimate sign had to be the willful attempt to kill the major percentage of Hogwarts's students by a prominent member of government. If the public could not only hate his brother for his gifts, but support such a despicable man, and put the man in a position of power at a school, why would he want to be a part of it?
With that conclusion in his mind, he began to withdraw from the masses, spending more time studying that socializing. Luckily he was in Ravenclaw, where such behavior was often hand waved away. "Oh he's a 'claw, of course he's studying day in day out."
The fact that hurt crossed his face whenever his brother passed him in the halls, not even glancing at him, or when the others in his house sneered at him when he tried to approach them, never registered.
His opinion of the overall sense of the wizarding world was merely bolstered when the school swapped from hatred to adoration with the rescue of Ginevra Weasley.
Without the threat of murder for daring to go into a corridor, and without the rash of petrifications that plagued the school, Harry was geared up for a fairly normal third year.
It was in fact a fairly normal year, Harry had finally been bolstered from reserve chaser to starting, and he was top of his class, much to Hermione's chagrin.
It was also the year that he met his best friend, Luna Lovegood. The friendship was in fact entirely by accident, before he had had considered her the nice, albeit a bit strange girl in his house who seemed even more alone than him.
The seeds that blossomed into friendship were planted not over a cup of tea, or a nice pleasant conversation, but by the relentless torment that had plagued the girl.
It had been a fairly normal day, it was raining much as it was wont to do in Britain during the spring, and Harry had scrambled to his common room early. The sight that met him in the normally studious common room still filled him with righteous anger.
Near the fireplace, a group of two younger girls, the Ravenclaw seeker Cho Chang, and a mousy haired prefect were laughing, playing keep away with a lustrous pearl comb. The poor girl they were tormenting was almost in tears, begging her torturers to give it back.
Harry was said to have inherited a bit of a temper from his mother, but the one thing that had been ingrained in him by both his brother and his parents, was a hatred of bullies. Seeing two older students, who by all accounts should have been helping the girl, instead willingly participating in the tormenting of the girl, fired a righteous rage inside of him.
"Give her the comb Chang, what has she ever done to you!?" the green-eyed teen spat angrily at the asian girl, who turned to face him with a smirk as she threw the comb to the older boy.
"What we do with Loony isn't any of your business Potter." she glared.
'Loony' was nearly in tears at this point, scrambling for the last gift her mother had ever given her that was held in the hands of the short, stocky boy, arms outstretched. That he was laughing did nothing to assuage Harry's fury.
"Yeah," he said, "It isn't, but it is house business. House business that you and that prefect over there chose to accept when you took your positions."
Drawing her wand, Chang mocked, "Oh is the boy-who-lived's little brother gonna hurt me? I'm so scared."
Easing his wand into his fingers, Harry stared the girl in the eyes. She might have been pretty, but to take power and abuse it like that was sickening.
Harry had always figured that the wizarding world had a major issue of having power so casually held. A man in the muggle world could have power with a gun, but the size of your gun never really made one man more powerful than another. Bombs of course were different, but in the wizarding world power was more easily measured. This tended to lead to a rash of people who thought it was their right to rule, simply because of power.
"I'll say this one last time Chang," he hissed, drawing and pointing his wand straight between her eyes, "call off your little dogs and give her the comb."
Later witnesses would swear Harry's eyes went red when the prefect holding the comb snapped it and tossed one piece to the girl and one in the raging fire at the end of the room.
All coherency and negotiation left Harry at that point."Stupify" Harry roared, channeling his raw fury into the spell. The brilliant blast of red light struck Chang, crumpling her to the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut. Shortly after, in a very un-Ravenclaw'ish manner, he threw himself at the prefect, punching him solidly in the face.
Of course, Harry was small for his age, always had been, and this prefect was a beater for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. But then, in the wizarding world people aren't usually prepared for a jab to the face, often faster than a spell.
"What the fuck!" the boy screamed, clutching his bleeding and broken nose. A quick incarcerous later and then man was bound in ropes, still bleeding on the carpet.
By this time the remainder of the tormenters, two second year girls, had drawn their wands and aimed at him.
Of course, their only experience in Defense was Lockhart, and Harry had been tutored by his father as the boy-who-lived's brother. Seeing as they didn't necessarily want to Obliviate him, they had cast the first thing that came to mind.
The tickling hex, marvelous piece of magic though it is, is next to nothing in a combat scenario.
Two more Stupify's later, which they made no attempt to dodge, had Harry standing in the middle of the common room, wand drawn, three unconscious girls and one rope bound bleeding prefect around him.
It was to this scene that their diminutive charms professor arrived through the door to his office, startled by the wards that marked danger in the common room.
"What is the meaning of this!?" Flitwick practically yelled at Harry. Seeing the crying Lovegood heiress clutching half a comb gave him an idea as to what actually happened, but until it was confirmed he wasn't going to draw any conclusions.
"Mr. Potter, my office, explain, now."
After a discussion which eventually culminated in Harry losing 50 points but gaining 30 for 'standing up for those who couldn't,' and detention with Flitwick for a month, where Flitwick secretly promised to teach Harry to duel. As well, the prefect lost his badge, and both were removed from the Quidditch team as well as 20 points being taken from each of the bullies.
But in the end, the short lived fight gave Harry one thing he didn't have before, a friend, and a relationship that blossomed into a romance in their fourth year, when his brother faced the trials of the tri-wizard tournament.
Now, though, Harry and Luna were cresting a hill, the manor behind them, to view the lake where Snorkacks tended to nest.
The water of the lake lapped softly against the rocky shores, and the light reflecting off the water showed small schools of fish swimming happily.
The Potter property was beautiful, acres of soft rolling green terrain with a small lake and forest that extended all the way to Ottery St. Catchpole. The luscious green fields brimmed with life, some normal, some fantastical. Only, it was just two young teenagers reveling in the joys of youth that knew of the latter.
In the early days of their friendship, Harry had begun to start reading the Quibbler. Sure many of the claims were baseless, this Luna knew, but a lot of it was completely accurate. Many of the fantastic creatures were in fact real, from the tiny to the large.
All it took to realize this was a bit of luck, and a lot of faith on Harry's part.
"Ooh a purple-winged lace fly!" Luna squealed from behind a large boulder near the rocky coast of the lake.
Smiling, Harry raced to catch up after he had fallen behind with his thoughts.
In the blondes hand was a tiny winged creature, a bit like a maggot, with vibrant purple wings. Caught up in examining it, they never realized that behind them more popped out, seemingly from nowhere.
When the swarm began to produce a high pitched whining noise, similar to an aircraft taking off, the two turned around.
Surprise marred Luna's face, as the creature was extraordinarily rare.
'Strange,' she thought, 'they almost never swarmed except in cases of...'
"Harry, RUN!" she screamed, grabbing the shocked boys hand and grabbing him, tugging him away from the lake.
The very confused teen and his frantic girlfriend sprinted up the hill they had just descended. When they reached the top, the most horrendous noise, as if cannons had just fired in harmony, reached their ears. Light seemed to pour from behind them, as a concussion rippled behind them.
The wave of compressed air sent the two sprawling at the top of the hill, as the faint sounds of screaming came from behind them. The duo quickly scrambled behind the knotty looking tree at the top of the hill, seeking cover from what must be a horrendous and graphic sight.
"Erastil that stings!" a hoarse cry came from the shore. Followed, oddly, by weak chuckling.
"Only you, Gorag, would consider being dematerialized and smashed together again to sting. You barbarians and your pain tolerance, what I wouldn't give for a cleric right about now." A wizened voice replied with barely concealed pain and a tinge of mirth. "Fat chance we'll find one of those around, so let's just set up camp, there's a building to the North it seems. We'll see if they have any healers on hand. Or maybe those two on the hill there will help."
From their hiding places the two teens froze in shock, this man seemed to already be aware of their presence, yet had made no malicious moves yet. Perhaps this wasn't simply another Death Eater trick that his parents made him constantly wary of.
"Luna," Harry whispered urgently, "who are these people and why did you scream to run?" Crouched behind the rock he saw the apprehension frittering across her face. Knowing her for years, he could tell when she was hiding something she believed too fantastic or outrageous for most people to accept.
"What aren't you telling me?" he inquired gently, clasping her hand reassuringly.
"They're dimensional travelers Harry, purple-winged laceflies only gather were the fabric of reality is being torn."
Near the lake the man identified as Gorag shouted, "Damn good dimensional travelers too! Why don't you come on out, we aren't gonna hurt you. Look, I swear on my mothers maiden head that we mean you no harm."
Confused at the strange oath, but sensing no ill intent behind the words, the two teens hesitantly stuck their heads out from behind the tree.
He finally got a look at the group that was hastily erecting a camp. Beyond the wizened old man who looked exactly like Dumbledore, there was a dark skinned man with tusks and a vicious looking war axe strapped to his back, a terribly short woman with two daggers at her side, and a ratty looking man, literally, with a large rifle strapped across his back. Needless to say, he felt that if they wanted to kill him, he would pose little threat, despite Flitwick saying he was a natural duelist.
The strange companions were quickly moving with fluidity, quickly erecting a ring near a clearing for a fire, as well as pitching a tent on the grass away from the shore. Aside from the old man who was hastily reaching into a trunk, rummaging for something, each member knew exactly what was required.
"Hi Mister Dimensional travelers!" Luna shouted excitedly. Harry clapped his hand over her mouth his face an expression of fear over meeting these men. Harry's senses screamed danger, something he hadn't felt since he had encountered Alastor Moody for the first time.
"Hi sweetie!" The ancient looking man called back cheerfully over his shoulder, his arm still in the trunk. "Might we ask which plane we landed on? Not one of the elemental planes obviously, unless you are cleverly disguised fire elementals."
"Fire... Elementals... What... Who... DUMBLEDORE?!" Harry managed to stammer out as he was dragged forward by his girlfriend, contrary to what his senses screamed at him.
Ignoring her flustered companion, Luna called, "Well we're on Earth, England to be exact, and I always heard this was the third dimension, but I don't think that's what you meant. Are you muggles?"
The man looked slightly taken aback, either from her questioning or the fact that she poked him -hard- interrupting him from his furious rummaging.
"Muggles?" he puzzled out.
"You know, people without magic. 'Cause I would hate it if the ministry came by and wiped the memories of how you got here. Or of us. I would be terribly put out if someone we just met forgets about us immediately." She deadpanned, looking straight in his eyes.
A dawning look of comprehension spread across his wizened face. He muttered a few words, and a large creature that looked to be a cross between a platypus and a winged horse shimmered into existence.
Disregarding the stunned look on the raven haired teens face at the casual display of wandless magic, he continued, "I would certainly hope I knew magic, otherwise Bill here would probably get loose and slaughter us in our sleep."
In a voice that was a strange mixture between quacks and words the creature choked out, "Ah shutup Rorin, you know you love me."
"IT CAN TALK?!" Harry all but shouted. Across the lake birds took flight in surprise. It wasn't every day a boy encountered a flying horse thing, as he so eloquently referred to it in his mind.
"Of course Bill can talk! How else would he be the terror of the seven continents?" The man replied with a sly grin. "Of course the seven continents were of a cave in Abraxia but seven continents nonetheless."
"At least I don't have eight different aging barmaids swearing I'm married to them."
"It's only seven and who are you to go off on holding a few fake marriages mister. Remember that lovely lady eidolon you promised to marry? Knock her up and run off more like."
Sniggers ran among the strange crowd as Harry watched, stunned that a man who looked exactly like Dumbledore was holding a conversation with a thing. When his brain finally managed to get out of the pickle it was in, and he regained some sense of motor control in his jaw, he only managed to get out, "What?"
-Slap-
"Sorry Harry but you were going into shock, why don't you sit down over here." Luna inquired worried for her companions rapidly decomposing mental sanity. She gently guided him by the hand to a rock the barbarian was leaning on, motioning him to sit down.
The fact that the barbarian was currently running a stone the size of Harry's head across a wicked looking axe did not escape the boy, and if anything only seemed to fluster him further.
Jumping into the air as if he had forgotten their young guests, Rorin forced his eyes away from bill and turned towards the two with an expression frightfully similar to Dumbledore.
With a twinkle in his eye, he explained, "Well I'm sure you have a lot of questions, so to start with we should probably go into introductions."
Bill sighed and grumbled to himself, looking as embarrassed over his friend as a thing could.
Pointing towards himself and bowing with a flourish of his hand, the man grandly exclaimed, "Rorin, Summoner Extraordinaire and Dimensional Philosopher."
"Gorag, Gorag the Barbarian," the dark skinned man grunted, setting down his whet stone and testing the balance of his weapon with a few swings towards the bundle of firewood he had brought back. When the blade cleanly severed a small mountain of logs, Harry near fainted. He idly wondered whether a pile of bodies would provide the same resistance.
"Milon, Milon the Rogue, dastardly thief and master of breaking and entering." The short woman squeaked from the folds of the tent that was rapidly raising.
"Noram Deadeye, Gunslinger and bounty hunter of Abraxia on the lost shores." The rat faced man announced as he took apart a nasty looking rifle, scanning it over for damage or rust.
"Luna Lovegood, witch, reporter, hunter of rare animals." Luna said airily, thoroughly amused at the groups theatrics.
Turning towards her friend who still sat on the rock, mouth agape, she scolded him lightly about his lack of manners.
"Well, aren't you going to introduce yourself Harry?" Luna asked, urging him on. "Come on, not even Death Eaters could come up with something THIS crazy. Introduce yourself." She continued, looking into his eyes expectantly.
"Harry, Harry Potter." He just managed to choke out, eyes still on the large man testing his weapon. When Gorag slammed it down and reached for his pack he just about jumped 8 inches off the rock, landing in a heap near the shore.
"Forgive him, he's a bit flustered at this," Luna managed apologetically. She grasped his hand and reassuringly squeezed it as she pulled him back up onto his rock.
"Quite all right sweetie, quite all right." Rorin said, amusement written on his features. "It is a lot to take in, the fact that there are alternate dimensions and universes out there. In fact, if I didn't manage to break the dimensional barrier myself, I wouldn't believe it."
"Now, why don't you tell us about this world we ended up in? You mentioned magic? Would you happen to know any good clerics in the area?"
"Clerics? I'm terribly sorry for my ignorance but why would you need a religious man?" Luna asked, an expression of confusion on her face. She of all people knew the value of faith, but couldn't think how it could possibly help a group such as this.
Pulling out a piece of parchment and quill from the folds of his robe, laying it flat on a seemingly invisible surface, the old man furiously muttered and scribbled, "World 2153, no Clerics, possibly only arcane magics."
"2153?" Harry spluttered. His expression paled at the thought that not only was there one other world, but thousands.
"Yes 2153, now, I have a list of pre-written list of questions here, quite handy for dimensional travelers, could you help me answer them?"
"Sure Mr. Rorin, but can you explain why you wanted a holy man? You mentioned Divine Magic?" Luna shifted over towards him, reaching for the list. Glancing it over, she placed it gently on the rocks. Jumping onto the large bolder besides Harry, she flung her arm across his shoulders and looked at Rorin. Her wide eyes might disturb some, but the expression of unabashed interest got the man all hot and bothered.
Looking a touch embarrassed, the aged summoner glanced at the floor and muttered something.
Milon spoke up, "Well frankly to answer the why, this whole dimensional thing hurts like hell, and someone here created a spell that has a habit of turning insides into outsides randomly."
"Look it only happened one time!" Obviously a subject of much shame for Rorin he indignantly squawked, "The rest of us were fine too! I told you it was a bad idea to bring a cleric of Asmodeus with us."
"Be that as it may, it was still a bad omen for the safety of this spell. All I'm saying is why don't we just take a few artifacts and books" at the mention of the books Rorin practically bounced up, "from this plane and retire. The pain is only getting worse and I don't think I can take much more before I start passing out every shift. And we both know there are some hops where we don't want to pass out."
"You have a point Milon, but there is so much we don't know!"
"How will being eaten by cannibals because we passed out help us gain knowledge?" Milon scolded pointing an accusing finger towards the man, "The knowledge I seek isn't necessarily what my insides look like in a stew."
"Look we run into cannibals ten times and every world has cannibals now does it?"
Glaring at the man, she firmly said, as if explaining to an upstart child, "No, but it is always something to be wary of. Why don't we all decide, it's not just your life at risk here."
Rorin helplessly looked side to side, his expression begging the fellow members of his entourage for support. At the accusing glares of both men, he sighed in defeat.
"Okay, all those in favor of.. settling down." He said the last two words almost as if they were pure poison.
At this all of the other members of the strange band raised their hand, even Luna.
Smirking, Milon turned towards the man, "Well, it's settled then. I always wanted to settle down and live the good life."
Rorin sulked, "You said you would never settle down."
"I said that well over 20 years ago Rorin, people change."
Meanwhile, Harry finally managed some sense of coherency and interrupted, "You still haven't answered, what is Divine Magic? You mean miracles or some such?"
"Heavens no!" Rorin exclaimed, as if affronted by the idea. "Look, this won't make much sense unless we get a feel for your kind of magic. So would you kindly explain it so we can work out the differences and say this in some way that makes sense?"
Luna piped up, "Well, some people, wizards and witches," identical grimaces spread up at the mention of witches, "are born with magic. We have a wand and chant a bit in Latin while waving it around and magic happens. Of course the really powerful wizards don't need one all the time, but most people do as a focus."
"Wizards and witches? At least those are familiar." Gorag grunted. "So you both are wizards then?" he turned an inquired eye towards the two. It seemed to them as if they were being swiftly judged, categorized, and assessed before he turned back towards his work. Strangely he was knitting a small blanket.
"No no no Mr. Gorag, I'm a witch and Harry's a wizard." Luna chided, as if talking to a small child.
At her declaration, she was almost instantly at knife point from Milon, who was up in a blur of motion. The blade pressed into her pale flesh uncomfortably, nearly drawing blood. In a harsh growl the halfling stated, "We don't take too kindly to witches, none of that voodoo stuff on me you here me?"
Shooting up from his rock, wand in hand, Harry near shouted, "Whats your problem! Have you even thought to ask to see if witches mean something different?! Don't you think after hopping to another dimension that maybe definitions change?"
Sheepishly but warily Milon eased the pressure of her dagger from Luna's throat. Muttering a quick apology, she inquired, "All right, what is a witch?"
"A female magic user. What's it to you?" Luna seemed thoroughly nonplussed at being held at knife point, while Harry was almost steaming with rage.
Reddening quickly Milon explained, "A witch is usually an evil practitioner where we come from, nasty things that consort with devils to get crazy powers over men and evil."
Butting in, Gorag growled, "A witch," he spat the word with venom, "rendered me unable to bear children. For a warrior such as me that is worth than death." He glanced forlornly towards his front.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Luna said, truly she looked sorry, "but they can't all be evil can they?"
At this point Bill, forgotten except by Harry who was still eying the creature warily, piped up, "No, they're not. Something which this uncouth lot seems to forget. Many witches are quite nice, and they don't consort with devils." he added, with a look of scorn towards Milon.
"Good as well do," she muttered under her breath, turning towards the tents. "I'll be in my bunk."
Looking up from his book, Rorin said apathetically, "Well that was a nice bit a drama, but let's continue shall we. From the sound of things you have a completely different magic system than we do. We require foci for only a few spells, most use a few words and hand waves."
As if to demonstrate his point, Rorin waved his hands and murmured a few words.
At the end of the gesture Rorin looked up surprised when a glow surrounded the pair, arching up and spiraling towards the heavens. Hastily retreating back to his tent to an indignant squeal and protests of "Privacy Rorin!" he emerged a few seconds later with another book in his hand.
Not appreciating having glown like a tacky stick at a rave, Harry once more fumbled for his wand and aimed it at the tent entrance. He relaxed slightly when Rorin returned with only a book instead of some deadly weapon he was expecting.
"Remarkable, truly remarkable" Rorin muttered under his breath, paging through the book and taking quick notes with a pen.
"Does he get like this often?" Luna questioned Noram dreamily.
Noram stopped polishing his gun and looked up at the girl. "Pretty much, sometimes he'll mutter something or other and then just go digging through that book of his. Milon once tried to snatch the thing and her hand right about burned off." The last part he added with a small smile.
"Jumped in a lake and found the caverns of Thorasil she did though," Gorag chimed in, amused at his companions prior misfortune. At least as amused as he could look.
With a final scritch scratch of a quill, some more muttered words, and a shared meaningful glance with Bill, Rorin announced "Well then, that was most unexpected." He looked closer at Luna, as if realizing she was there for the first time. Reaching once more into the folds of his robe, he produced a strange looking glass type object.
Putting it to his eye, the glass made it seem as though his eye filled the saucer shaped frame. He sharply poked her in a rather ticklish area, causing her to giggle a bit. Murmuring to himself he reached deep into his robes, deeper than should have been physically possible really.
"What was that crazy color thing you did, and why are you examining her?" Harry glowered, yanking his girlfriend away from the strange man who looked in danger of falling into his own robes. He was understandably angry of course, in this dimension lights are usually a sign of curses or other such nonsense.
"Well, I was simply testing your checking your classes with a spell I invented when I was a child. Oh don't look like that it's mostly safe, anyways, it showed something most unusual. Instead of the simple aura that would indicate power and abilities, the cause and effect matrix that mars an aura shifted to the heavens in a spiral with seven different colored rings. This could be because of a compounded effect on your causality leading to..."
"Get to the point Rorin!" three voices shouted in unison.
"Oh, yes, yes," he flustered out, "well anyways, you are, as we say, some very powerful entities bitches. Harry, I think yours is Pharasma, goddess of fate, and you are probably a magus, and Luna, I think you might be an oracle."
At that Noram gasped and fell off his log, Gorag growled, and Milon stuck her head out of a tent. "An oracle?" all three queried in unison.
