Magic perhaps
Addendum: 2/8/17: At the start of chapter 21 is an important note, but for the sake of convenience I will be adding here a note that this story is probably going to be rewritten if I find the time. The long hiatus between the posting of 20 and the update last week were a result of a computer failure. That [hard drive failure] effectively wiped out my notes on the story save possibly for some pen and paper scraps, but ultimately side tracked the story.
You are welcome to read the original version of the story posted here through 1-20 and read the new chapter, but I can't say when an update will occur. If you like this original version, you may wish to download a copy of it, as whenever a rewrite is put up it might replace this.
(All other material is unchanged from the original draft of the chapter)
Chapter 1
Magic perhaps
Helltanz's notes: more or less a straight HP fic, borrowed fantasy magic and some common clothes tropes though, among other things I'll enjoy tossing clichés here and there. Technology 'techomagic' what not whatever will probably reach steampunk levels to an extent, if for no other reason than to have magical airships. Of course that won't be until fifth year probably.
So here is my latest fic enjoy.
Disclaimer: come on you should know the drill by now
Chapter begin
Pain had for the first years had been his friend something he had been so intimately familiar with one could say they had been lovers of sorts, or at least a woman who always make sure to come to visit him.
He'd always be fixed by the morning something that had always seemed to anger his relatives. That had stopped when he had been seven. More because it had no choice, the abuse had come to a grinding halt.
After that his closest companion was hate and contempt. Those two feelings were now nearly always coursing through his veins. Now all he held for other people was at best a cold disdain for other people.
It was an attitude reflected in his grades and his clothing, and obviously in his mannerisms. The boy's name was Harry Potter age ten year 6 class 2 of the local junior level school. Frankly he didn't have friends, and if not for the fact none of the local bullies wouldn't go near him most people would have expected for the pale, smart, for his grade anyway, skinny, dark clad and bespectacled kid to be bullied.
Not the case in the slightest. Harry Potter pretty much would have screamed goth or at least some kind of emo freak, with the far to many belts, long flowing coat, complete lack of anything brighter than crimson red with the sole exception of his white gloves, which frankly he never seemed to take off, in fact no one had ever seen him take them off… ever.
Right now the kid was in the process of staring at the sky, spiders if any one took the care to notice them positioned in any of the directions one could approach. Definitely not an understatement to say the kid was odd.
At the present moment he was using one of his gloved fists to shield him from the harsh glaring light of the summer sun as he lay on top of the roof.
Well to be quite specific he was trying to finish the Weird of the White Wolf, he doubted he would manage it before class resumed and that overly cheery bitch Jennifer probably try and discourage him from reading, pretentious smiling whore. He thought furiously remembering the last time he had retaliated for her taking one of his books, it had been just a couple spiders and the stupid woman had screamed so loud, hence why he now preferred to sit in the back of the class.
Vernon had before that day, what was now referred to as the Incident if it had to be mentioned at all in the Dursley household, had along with Petunia always drilled into his head, and Dudley's that magic didn't exist.
Of course the incident had changed all that magic was a power, which could be used to mutate, to change reality. The Incident had been merely a realization a strange sensation wanting to stop the pain to show others the pain he felt to make them suffer.
Clearly since Vernon had lied about magic since there was if it could be called logical in the first place, that was the only explanation.
Magic perhaps was real, and if it was not really called magic then it was some other weird power it didn't particularly matter.
In the past four years he had discovered the power operated through force of will more or less in a fantasy method, actually that seemed because that was were most of his ideas had come from.
Whatever the case was magic responded to thoughts and required energy proportional to the change being committed.
Of course it was about this time the screaming started, normally this meant that one of the kids had found a bee or something of that nature, and thus Harry didn't care in the slightest about whatever it was.
Thus the young boy continued to read until one of his spiders reported to him, or rather as it was actually an observer spider reported to the large spider who in turn reported to the young wizard himself that there were masked black coats throwing beams of light across the play ground.
Actually it was more the fact one of the black coats had stumbled onto the roof that he decided to get involved.
Five magic missiles impacted the man's chest and sent him careening off the roof, "Well that was easy, stupid mooks." He grunted.
Due to the fact he was still more or less in the process of figuring out exactly how to do what in regards to magic Harry's experiences were primarily academic, if one could call chucking fireballs at things academic, in nature nonetheless he'd always wanted to lead an evil style army into battle, hence why he had been working so hard on trying to recreate the Ringwraiths.
So far that hadn't been met with much success, especially since according to Tolkien the original Black Riders were powerful undead humans. This of course really put a damper for such ideas of armies.
A feeling of cold spread down his back and across his arms and up his neck wrapping around his cheeks, Harry considered his options.
Larger magical attacks would require him to more or less remain stationary, and he did not have enough spiders at the school to do much damage. Spiders were his most basic minion, one could call them, unfortunately most of the creepy crawlies were rather unsuited for combat, that of course was something common sense told him given the fact the mainstay of the arachnids were simply magically empowered spiders making them suitable for spying.
There was a sickening crack and one of the dark robes went flying through the air, oh that was right before Petunia had thrown a hissyfit he had been working on bringing his tub of lard cousin's magic out. He was actually surprised it had been a successful as it was but the fact of the matter was Dudley, and Petunia were the only ones who had the magic circuits, saying pathways just sounded dumb.
Still they were in point of fact out numbered, even if it was just magic mooks, damn it he needed more combat spiders, or trap spiders more combat spiders was the better idea of course, but additional trap spiders wouldn't hurt.
Frankly most of his spells were untested at best, and completely theoretical at worst, of course it was also true he had a handful of highly developed spells that he had already mastered in their entirety to the point of just a thought, teleportation came to mind immediately in that regard, but those were extremely few.
Harry studiously observed both with his own eyes and through his spider minions the black cloaks. It appeared that he had the advantage in range since even his close range spells had a range of twenty five feet to say nothing of his magic missiles which were more than four times that. "I need more goblins," He groaned, well to be frank I really need more minions in general, and magic user minions, the wizard thought as he observed the area.
To state the obvious he didn't really care what happened to his so called classmates it just really didn't matter to him. Still he hadn't expected Dudley to be able to use the seals so effectively this merited perhaps further study. By so effectively he meant that it appeared to him that his tub of lard cousin was using the magical circuits at a much higher level of efficiency that he ever had been before.
It was interesting but likely something he'd loose interest in after a few weeks. Besides at the moment the black cloak mooks were the problem, and besides that he had deemed the project with Dudley a waste of time, he needed more minions not for him to be distracted by some project.
So once again reviewing his arsenal of magical spells that he could use effectively, that included teleportation, over all he might be able to snipe them from the rooftops of the school but that was iffy about how effective it would be.
More because he was at the moment unsure of exactly what defenses these mooks could be able to use, not much he would wager, but he didn't intend to go this route without first weighing his other options. Albeit said options were more or less non existent given his present repertoire.
Yes with out his staff engaging the mooks physically was out of the question he was simply to small, while he might be able to surprise them with boost to his physical abilities it was simply out of the question. By staff what was meant was a large iron pole on which he had basically infused magic into, this, the infusing of magic, had been what caused the tribal like design patterns to manifest. With out the tool his melee abilities with the exception of using magic to boost strength and speed and using teleport were exactly what one could expect from some one his age.
Harry raised his hand and focused, gesturing from his place atop the roof towards the mass of dark cloak mooks. Black Tentacles, a mass of them, formed into existence feeling along the ground reaching and grappling with the startled mooks.
The tentacles began to seize everything within the a twenty foot radius of where they had burst out of the ground.
A few of the magical mooks caught in the mass of inky black tentacles attempted to struggle and fire spells at the tentacles but it was for naught.
Reaching inside he prepared to cast the next spells two glowing beads emerged from his fingers, he had at max five minutes until they exploded on his own hopefully that would be enough time.
Dudley socked another of the mooks sending him careening away and into the swing set with a wet thud. The tub of lard's magical circuits had been artificially enlarged allowing him to generate waves of concussive energy from his fists and mouth, or if he bothered with his feet.
Harry teleported his arrival causing a cloud of sand to rise at his feet as he appeared on the playground.
"Its Potter!" Exclaimed one of the dark cloak mooks, "For the dark lord!" The mook declared with a flourish of his wand.
The mook shouldn't have take his eyes off the young wizard to look at his fellow dark cloaks, Harry flicked his wrist unleashing a bolt of acid which ate away the whole of the man's extended forearm, "Dark Lord? Which one?" Harry demanded as the man writhed around in the dirt.
"The Dark Lord."
Either they meant that as a figurative name for the Christian Devil, or they were even bigger dumbasses then regular mooks. "Again which one?" He demanded of the mooks he counted at least twenty of them when he had been observing though a few seemed to go inside the school. "And if you answer the Dark Lord I'll do a lot worse than acid arrow," The warlock growled to the group of mooks.
"Uh the- he who must not be named," Stated one of the dark cloaks hastily while fingering his wand.
Weren't elder gods, presuming Lovecrafts books were in fact correct on the matter of such beings, supposed to have semi competent, or at least intelligent mooks he thought, "Not an acceptable answer behold the-" His monologue was abruptly cut off as one of the sneaking mooks did something stupid.
A low roar tore across the playground catching the dark cloaks in a blaze of fire, they shouted and squealed as the delayed blast fireballs went to work. Losses in this case were within acceptable, well actually he didn't care if their were 'losses' but the fact was the fire balls had not caught any of the terrified kids a number of whom had just been apparently levitated off the ground.
He had been intending do something fancy like storm of vengeance but apparently some one had stepped on one of the fireball beads causing it to detonate prematurely if the dark stain was any indication. It had been his plan to telekinetically use the beads and move them and catch the mooks in one blast but now that was out the window. With a scowl he flung a bolt of lightning from his fingers mooks or not he couldn't waste any more time on them. The spell was a powerful stroke of electrical energy and began to arc from those within its range. "Kneel before me and beg for you lives miserable currs," He laughed in such away it was odd. In truth he needed to hurry he'd never engaged in a real fight much less one against magical mooks so he needed to finish this quickly, most assuredly did he have any intention of allowing this to go on without reinforcements from his own minions.
At that moment a spider ripped from a batch of grassy ground and leapt sinking its fangs into one of the mooks back.
Well at least, he thought, I am not completely with out assistance in dealing with these fool black coats. Harry pressed his spectacles up on the bridge of his nose, and watched as a gobbling scraped its head slavishly on the dirt, "Scour the school kill any of the black cloaks you find, cut them, rend them, bite them, do whatever but see to it they are dead and be quick about it." He ordered to the three and a half foot tall creature gripping a meat cleaver. The beast ran its tongue over its lips and nodded affirmatively and rushed off with the rest of its gang.
Frankly while theoretically useful he had yet to find much use for the creature other than digging hidey holes and stealing. If he wanted to rule over the land well to start with he needed land to rule over in the first place, but he also needed more minions, and stronger minions as well.
Harry prepared to attack again, ignoring the fact Dudley had collapsed entirely, when the mooks decided to make their retreat and vanished, or at least the dark cloaked mooks who were still alive or conscious did.
This was actually a quite a bit better luck than expected considering the young wizard was while not drained still not above half of his reserves. While this of course meant he was more than capable of continuing and indeed could pretty much teleport an infinite number of times if the enemy had stayed and started acting competent or he was still here should they return with reinforcements then they might be able to drain his reserves of magical energy, besides their retreat gave him the opportunity to prepare a trap should they choose to return.
"Oooh can you do that again?" Asked one of the kids from Year 1.
Harry's glasses flashed malevolently, "Mark shut up!" He growled at the little blonde boy angrily.
The kid took a step back and crossed his arms and frowned and pouted.
Personally he didn't really give a shit at the moment. Instead he stormed his way toward one of the unconscious wizards blue energy aglow veiling his gloved hand. Without any further ceremony he yanked the man's mask off and gripped his face and began the process of draining his energy.
It was amongst the few spells in his arsenal that aside teleportation that he could use with little concentration, no spell was wrong. This was the power he used to feed off the energy directly he could do it without touch but this was much more effective. More than once he'd lost himself in the process of reaping not that it mattered no one cared for the dregs of society.
Energy replenished he let the still living body fall from his grasp, he had been tempted to drain the fool to nothing more than a husk but that would have served no purpose especially since he wanted answers. Thus he had stopped once his reserves were replenished, which had left the man with plenty.
Harry began to walk towards the school, despite his brooding appearance he did not carry any form of weaponry upon him while at school, though he had more than a few liberated weapons stashed away.
Of course such mattered little as more arrived, no these were different, he realized after a moment, they were red not mask wearing mooks. The difference between the two mooks was something he wasn't absolutely sure of.
For the barest of seconds he considered laying waste to the entire area with the one mass effect spell he had mastery of, but promptly dismissed such a move that would needlessly draw attention to himself, it was foolish to consider it in the first place.
"Death Eaters," Was the first word out of the apparent leader of the red mooks' mouth as they surveyed the scene.
Harry pondered if that was the name of the unit of mooks, well he had heard worse, read worse rather. "Is that what there called then?" A bolt of scarlet light shot at him, "Fire shield," The young wizard snapped calling the barrier of flames into place in front of him and using the smoke generated to roll to the side. While the red mook got berated he unleashed his own spell a powerful gust of wind lifted his would be attacker from his feet and sent him careening into a tree.
"Wait, wait we're the good guys!" One of the red mooks shouted in a nasally voice as he began to wave his arms about.
After a moment considering his options of flame broiling the possible threat Harry grunted, and hmmed suspiciously.
"Really we are, we're aurors, we're the good guys." Stated the man no longer waving his arms foolishly about.
Briefly he again considered simply blasting the blithering idiot from existence, and then they started shouting again, which really made him want to zap them.
"Your Harry Potter!"
What the fuck, was about the only logical phrase to pass through his mind in the following second, how the hell do these idiots know my name, was the next phrase to acquaint itself into his mind, after he clamped down on his urge to just hit something namely the red cloaked mooks with chain lightning.
It was a few hours later that Harry made his way home, or rather back to Privet Drive with Dudley Dursley in tow.
Frankly the schoolday had actually been more useful than expected he had not only managed to learn that wizards had apparently their own mind wipe spell something he quickly copied and applied upon all of those present.
That was of course only the tip of the iceberg, as the expression, went apparently he was famous, actually that was just a perk, but the fact was he had gotten more information than expected.
Apparently the black cloak mooks with masks, they had to have masks, since apparently a lot of people wore black cloaks, were called Death Eaters, and the red cloak wearing mooks were called Aurors, they were supposed to keep the black cloak wearing and mask wearing mooks in line, something they failed at, miserably.
Other information included that wizards used gold, silver, and bronze for money rather than paper like non magical people did, he had liberated a stash, there was also a place over in London that housed the primary shopping center place.
Summarizing it all, well it looked more or less Medieval in character with the obvious exception of no witch burnings.
Harry let his head thump against the wall and promptly swatted one of his minion goblins away from him, "No I don't want any," He growled, shivering violently. There had been something more important, he should have grown up in that world instead he had been forced, not in such terms mind you, to live with the Dursleys. Some one was going to pay for that.
True enough it wasn't as bad as it had been, but not only had the Dursley's lied to him, of course that wasn't necessarily a big surprise, but still he had been forced to endure six, six miserable fucking years with his fat ass relatives, actually that only applied to Vernon and Dudley, but that was besides the point.
Even so he was thoroughly pissed at the situation over all, he fully intended to make someone preferably everyone in general suffer for his pain.
Whatever the case he had a whole summer to look forward to, a whole summer of getting minions and practicing spells. Maybe he'd threaten the Walrus into taking them some place that was nice, maybe isolated or something.
More trembles wracked his form, anger made him like this, hate and contempt flared in his veins and fingers curled into a fist, "They will pay," His minions at present were pathetic, okay perhaps not pathetic. Scattered would have been a better term to use most of those minions were at present scattered through out the mature woodlands in the county. Harry had prior to knowing about the wizards had started to exploit the wood lands having the goblins in his service dig and toil to build him a lair of stone and earth in the hill, but now all that might not be needed.
That was precisely what infuriated him, he had wasted time weaving magic of concealment and illusion over the site and now it might prove for naught all because he had been withheld his birthright.
Such a thing was unforgivable, no, he thought, his work could yet be to his advantage no doubt his birthright would be of use, before he had wiped their minds he had learned much of his sire's blood.
Potter they were a noble ancient family. He had been denied till this point what was rightfully his, people would pay for this crime. He had been kept ignorant of such facts of his blood instead thrust with his mother's bitch of a sibling. Still he was denied, for the time being at least, what was his.
Harry ran his fingers over the spine of the book, despite his dark gloomy appearance and use of magic and the forces of darkness he did not write in blood, which would have just been utterly stupid. His scrawl was precise each character and symbol written, the words orderly and each stopping precisely. There was no fancy curve, and curl, and swirl or such silly nonsense as loops in his writing just simple to the point characters.
The characters of the alphabet filled the page, he was of course well aware of exactly what was stated, he had written after, knowledge. No he had penned it for another reason not for his own memory but for his legacy, he wanted power. More than that he wished to embrace that power to do such he needed minions, and not just the simple minions he had now, he needed other magic users. Well that wouldn't be such a problem now. He had a whole other world to conquer now as well. More people to conquer, and these had to be punished for slighting him.
In truth he probably would have hated these wizards even with out knowing about the fact of his father being a pureblood. They had deprived him of what was his so they would be made to pay, that was his justification but if given the chance he would have beaten just for having better childhoods than he had.
Whatever the case the wizards could wait he would record what he had gathered on their magic that he had learned this day and then he would plan.
A whole other world, like the wizards as the case was, it raised problems already his forces were far to small to do much, it was hence why he had no intention of moving quickly no he would creep and stalk and his host would grow until it was an unstoppable tide and when he struck his minions would decapitate the leaders of the world with subtle quick deaths of poison from spiders.
Still what he had originally planned for in the event of a rogue student now he would have to use earlier, spiders that had poisons of silence. He was immune of course that had been something he had insured early on.
Perhaps he would go to the lair and see how his minions had proceeded since his last visit to the woodlands, yes perhaps they had even snared a few stupid people.
Harry was careful, he only preyed on the dregs of society, criminals and the homeless mainly, it wasn't just leaching them of their energy he did other things to turn them to his benefit, curses brimming with hate and malice wrapped around their hearts, as he twisted their minds to serve his whims.
They were just tools more valuable than the everyday people one found on the street but even so they didn't matter they were disposable their minds shattered and replaced with nothing more than the urge to serve him.
For the most part this fact alone made him detest them further, but even so they could be useful. Still if someone stumbled into the woods it was different than some fool he stumbled upon in London they would never be found.
Summer tended to be more useful, it amused him to give them plenty of opportunity to escape. They thought they were being clever, the older ones did teenagers mostly who thought it would be cool to sneak off with their 'special person' and have a little bit of naughty fun in the woods. When they were caught they were the ones who always attempted to escape they never succeeded and the bodies never found. Once just once thankfully there had been an old person who had apparently assumed Harry was 'not from this world', whatever the hell that meant.
Frankly he was of the opinion he had done delusional old man a favor since no one had come looking for him. Minion wise he had more goblins and spiders than anything else though spiders easily outstripped goblins, obviously even goblins couldn't match the breeding rates of spiders. As it stood in that regards he had a motley tribe of the little cretins, most of whom were engaged in lair building.
Actually that task was tying up the majority of his even vaguely Humanoid minions hence why the attack at school had caught him so off guard. This of course, the being caught off guard was totally and utterly unacceptable.
In truth he had not really been caught off guard, true an enemy had wandered right into the place he spent the by and large of his time, but they hadn't actually caught him off guard, per say.
As far as rooms went Harry's room more or less passed for a combination of a study with sleeping arrangements crammed off to one side, even so more than a few errant pieces were scattered about the room, mainly paper, but occasionally some discarded piece of metal, usually a piece of clockwork being found its way onto the ground.
He didn't particularly care about the state of affairs and in his opinion this room was minimal in its importance, anything in this room could be recreated he even had most of it duplicated. Still this new spell had its applications so he record it, the ability to manipulate memories would be useful but he'd need to work on it. Only his already stellar concentration and the fact he was merely erasing the memory of Harry Potter being there had allowed him to pull it off, and even then he found he had made a mistake without him there there was no explanation as to who had beaten up the black cloak mooks, and he had of coursed erased their memories as well, it was a fairly rudimentary job as far as such things had gone though he had expunged their memories enough as to prevent anyone from having a chance to find it, magic worked on belief after all.
For now he'd focus on changing his plans to accommodate the change to his plans, he hated changing his plans, which would be required by the Wizarding world being in play and whatever knowledge that such yielded.
Carefully crafted plans would have to be delayed, not that the time issue was really such a major thing, so as to accommodate the wizards. Still there would obviously need to be modifications but he had no certainties on exactly what would change and that kind of situation did him no favors, which in turn led him to being in an even worse mood than he was in normally.
For now of course if there were going to modify his plans it meant he would need to speed up his education in magic, and obviously get more minions. From what he had glimpsed of the red mooks mind he would face difficulties. While with a flick he could call forth lightning and smote any who would think them his equal there were more perilous dangers than those who fought with raw brutality, and those were the ones he would need to be wary of.
Summer holidays had begun and frankly the young wizard was currently in his usual habit of practicing, in other words spying on people.
Harry released the orb of splendid fire his rage had for the time being had abated though there was no doubt it would return again in full force, or perhaps greater. The young wizard was at the moment content to sulk and plot.
At present his mood was its more tempered, somber rational state, not that that wouldn't change quickly enough given the correct provocation. By his own admission the wizards were simply far to much of an unknown and while they were by all appearances mooks by and large that did not indicate they in actuality this.
No the wizards were fractured along ideological lines, fractured was good he could use fractured was something that could be exploited. Still he would need to be wary of them after all these wands made it easier to cast magic.
Thinking of such of a thing angered him they were weak relying on halves of effort as opposed to exerting themselves. He felt nothing more than contempt but recognized that if the wands did allow for less arduous spell casting then the wizards really could be a problem.
For as it stood it took him a few weeks to master a spell to the level of using it with little moments of notice. Of course meaning that his arsenal was potentially constrained by exactly what he could use in an instant, while in theory these mooks could spend time learning a much larger number of spells and be able to use them. A healthy dose of caution then should be used.
It wasn't that he presumed they could match him, one on one, however even he had his limits particularly given the constraints of his physical body. He was at best just a little over average in height for an eleven year old, and even so he was gaunt with no significant muscle mass. So short of using magic to temporarily boost his strength any form of melee would assuredly go against him. Even with magic supplementation he did not have the mass needed to be even particularly effective so he intended to avoid any type of physical combat if he could avoid it.
Of the numerous problems correcting his physical ineptness was while meriting a position on the list did not rank to highly so it would be a while, and it was unlikely that there would be any change in regards to the position even with wizards.
Physical violence was to be left to minions it was base, making others feel pain was quite well and acceptable in his book he just had no reason to waste his time doing it himself certainly not when he could have a minion do it, or he could use magic to cause pain to whatever person was in question.
Besides beating the tar out of some one was the mannerism of his fool tub of lard cousin not himself. Speaking of Dudley Dursley he was off no doubt pestering other children with his little band of thugs.
No doubt the failure was exploiting his newly gained proficiency with the generation of kinetic blasts and wreaking all manner of trouble.
He didn't particularly care Dudley's surprising usefulness against the black cloak mooks was irrelevant in his opinion he had deemed the process as far to fastidious to be anywhere near effective in the long run, or at least so he deemed it.
Currently the wizard was in the process of reviewing what was currently aware of in regards to the ongoing events of local Surrey, done via simple scrying. His affairs were his own and frankly no one minded or seemed to mind what he did. This went so far as to deal with the police who were still totally clueless of his devilish revelry.
Totally contrary to urban legends, or at least as far as the aspiring magical overlord could tell, Vampires did not control the London Underworld, in fact Harry had yet to even encounter even one of the so called children of the night.
Werewolves on the other hand occasionally roamed the woodlands of Surrey on the full moons but other than that did not make an appearance.
Personally Harry wasn't even sure whether he was looking in the right places for the creatures in question not that it mattered.
Actually it did matter since both creatures in question had noticed the increasing numbers of dead bodies and the local London Police were passing off the reports of bodies to those more used to dealing with weird stuff. Not that he was currently was aware of this nor would he be for a while.
In the mean time Harry continued to observe Surrey, as expected Dudley and his thugs were of course making nuisances of themselves. Not a particularly large surprise all things considered it seemed to be the tub of lard's favorite pastime.
Scrying was by far his worst skill at present, requiring him to use an element as a focus in the case of the present that element being fire, though wards came a close second, in comparison to his other talents, etching arcane symbols was not something he was by no means particularly fond of.
There was much work to be done in preparation magic and technology were incompatible for the most part, there exceptions of course but these were requiring of further study the time of which to do so he did not at the moment posses. No, no anything after the nineteen thirties was going to be to much trouble to make work, well with the possible exception of cars, and even then that was merely speculation on his part as he had had no method of testing that.
Until he had such an opportunity of testing what worked when combined with magic and what didn't the young wizard had more or less labeled anything modern pretty much with a write off saying it wasn't going to work.
Not that he was particularly concerned magic was better by far anyway technology was too prone to back firing splendidly on you. Pollution and cars catching on fire plus all the refuse created by modern society were his principle examples.
A major problem with scrying was well it required you to focus on the location, or person if such was your desired viewing material, so he didn't notice anything particularly out of the ordinary even when it did happen unless he was focusing on it.
Minions were troublesome to come by and that was affecting his concentration sure the goblins had their used but he needed more, and not just of them. He had others besides the spiders and goblins but those well they were fewer in number, which made risking such minions riskier at present.
The aspiring overlord banished his elemental scrying with an annoyed snarl and interlaced his fingers. He had planned to recruit those with the potential for magic for the express purpose of having lieutenants though as of yet he hadn't even started on aforementioned task. Primarily due to the lack of suitable candidates being available to him, perhaps that might change soon.
Summer was like every other season something Harry detested, then again he had contempt for nearly everything it was just the effects having to deal with the pain of living with the Dursley's contempt for six years.
He had made his decision in regards to a path short of the armies of men and the Elves coming together plus the other allies Sauron should have one, and to Harry's knowledge while Elves of classical Fantasy did exist they were few in number. A fact he knew because he had managed to acquire Dark Elf minions, few as they were, in addition to make contact with their woodland counterparts.
The later of course wished to be left alone. Harry did not tolerate such well but knew well enough provoking them in his present state would be foolishness. No, no, he wouldn't make the mistake made by so many overlords, especially when he didn't have the same resources they possessed, yet. Calling anymore allies was out of the question no, most certainly not with the attack against the school.
Aforementioned attack had thrown him, loath as he was to admit it, off guard something that could not be permitted to happen again. He needed to reinforce his security as it stood however he did not have the manpower to do such a thing, which was something that irked him to no end.
Without more information he was however unable to do anything about it, certainly not after considering his current lack of manpower, minion power rather. If the goblins continued to breed as they did then he might be able to remedy such things but there were still all manner of problems with construction that did keep the populous from growing as fast as it could have, not that he cared. The principal reason was goblins even as a horde despite being dangerous were not exactly to be the most useful.
For the moment however he lacked the resources to facilitate any such large scale force of more competent minions. Growing up amongst the non magically talented had taught him well of their strengths. Though flawed and lazy for the most part they had their advantages. His brilliant plan to deal with this was a two part strategy a colossal air burst of magic over the Eurasian continent, or several if such was needed. This of course had its issues while it was possible to generate a tech shattering magical pulse, indeed such was rather simple, getting it large enough posed problems. The second part of the phase required breaking the industrial and academic base, this would be equally as troublesome to facilitate, but in theory doable it would merely require work, research, and of course more minions. While useful Harry was adverse to relying on having minions of other races who could use magic so it could delay things substantially, at least minimally in regards to having access to some of the work.
Magic's core principal was belief and following that was wisdom, so long as you knew what you wanted it could be made to happen so long as you had the energy and the concentration to make it so. All magically inclined races had their own unique methods of utilization, each to suit their own whims.
There were of course other methods of using magic than simply the wave of an arm and a spoken invocation to smote the enemy, subtler ways most of these would require preparation and further study of course. Runes for example could be etched into stone to form potent defenses something of which Harry had at least minor experiences in dabbling in, but their were other uses, physical enhancement was among those uses and such could prove useful in regards to experimentation.
Harry swung his legs off the couch, as was typical he elected to watch the news it was perhaps the only real benefit he saw to technology, not that magic couldn't accomplish the same thing mind you, was TVs ability to show the news.
Vernon trudged into the kitchen, the man appeared to be nursing the aftermath of a night of drinking.
Life at Privet in summer was subdued at the best of times these days Dudley, and his own minions were in Harry's opinion were like orcs meaning the biggest, and stupidest, was the one in charge, spent the days either lounging or causing trouble about the neighborhood. Petunia would spend her days gossiping and spying on the neighbors for more things to do the prior about. Vernon after the incident basically ate breakfast, went to work, came home, watched the news, and went to bed, rinse and repeat. As to the young wizard well he the spent the mainstay of his time doing one of for things eating, sleeping, plotting or reading, but mainly he spent it plotting.
Harry had spent the day before, loath as he was to do such a mundane task as it was, on the most bothersome task of shopping for clothes. Frankly Harry's grades were high enough most schools would have accepted him it was mainly his anti social attitude that was the problem. Of course if it meant getting away from the Stupid Patrol, Dudley and his minions, he would not be above convincing certain members of a school to handle issues involving his enrolment.
Irritably the young magic user grabbed a juice as Vernon opened his morning newspaper as was typical and Dudley whopped his stick on the kitchen tiles, again something that had become commonplace.
There was a click of the mail slot and then the flop of letters on the doormat, Vernon didn't look up from his paper, "Get the mail, Dudley."
A glower came from Harry and the tub of lard scampered off after Harry's hand trailed towards the metal pole when Dudley gripped his smelting stick, though not before he grumbled a bit.
When he returned he dropped two things on the table and no one paid any further attention to the matter. Tomorrow however the letter Dudley concealed this day would cause all manner of hell to break loose, but for the mean time Harry would be spending the day practicing the arcane.
Chapter conclusion
Helltanz's notes: More or less dark High Fantasy style Harry he's pretty much meant to be evil uncaring hateful yada, yada. Overall meant to be an utter bastard, none the less he'll be no where near all powerful in comparison my other fics.
He'll be working for it to accomplish his goals, and to be frank this will follow canon closely other than the Death Eaters are more or less active even though Voldemort is out of the picture for the time being a Pureblood social club. If you can call a racist motivated terrorist group a social club.
