Chapter 2 - The Interview
Harry is very unaccustomed to nerves. Frankly, the feeling downright sucks. Where he should be going over and over his presentation in his head, he's instead distracted by the sickly pit that's formed in his stomach. He's normally able to keep his mind on a logical point. Where things might go wrong, he'd usually just force himself about the worst possible outcome.
It's normally enough to calm him down. Not today. This meeting is the deciding factor on the entire path of his future. If the worst thing that can happen today is him not getting accepted into UA, then that seems very bad indeed.
The written part of the exam ended hours ago, and he's certain he passed. He hadn't expected it to be difficult. It's really just to make sure that any students gunning for UA's courses can actually handle the academic requirements for normal classes. It's not arrogance to know that he falls far above these levels, it's fact.
For support students especially, the written exam isn't really the issue. Anyone who can engineer tools well enough to get into the support course is no doubt within the higher tiers of academics of their year group. So it's the meeting with the review board that is important.
If hero applicants are accepted on their ability to use their quirks, then support students are accepted on how well they can craft the devices that heroes will use in support of their quirks, or in addition to them. Just like the hero course, UA's support course will only accept the very best, so he has to sell his ability in this area. There's not a doubt in his mind that he's got what it takes - the problem lies in proving it to the review board.
"Just speak confidently," Harry remembers Remus' sage advice. "UA is looking for those who believe in themselves unconditionally, whether it is for the support course or the hero course."
Harry reaches for his phone. It's already five minutes past the time he was allocated for his interview. Unfortunately, his slot is one of the last of the day. At the start of the day there had been hundreds of applicants, and now he's one of only a few still left waiting.
He clicks into the messages app, re-reading for what must be the thousandth time the message that Momo had sent him in the early morning. 'You're getting into UA today. Soon those teachers are gonna believe in you almost as much as I do.' Harry smiles in spite of himself, knowing that he probably looks like a grinning lunatic. Even without her physically being there, Momo's confidence in him is a constant comfort.
"Harry Potter?" A young woman comes through the door in the waiting room. He stands. "They're ready for you."
Deep breaths.
He returns his phone to his pocket and moves over to the woman. She guides him down a short hallway and into another room. The door shuts behind him when he steps inside, and he lets out a nervous whoosh of air. The room inside is large and almost completely empty, except for the long desk at the end of it, which sits in front of an equally long window. There are three people sitting behind it.
The man on the right Harry recognises immediately as Professor Dumbledore, otherwise known as the Phoenix. After years working as a pro-hero, Dumbledore became one of the most well-known creators of support gear for heroes. He's now the headmaster of the support course at UA, and along with his now deceased mentor Nicholas Flamel, one of Harry's personal inspirations.
Next to Dumbledore in the middle of the desk is Professor McGonagall, formerly known as the hero Transfigure, but now known to be a teacher in UA's support department.
He doesn't recognise the man on the left. If he was ever a hero, he's not one that Harry has ever seen, and going off his quirk, which gives him the appearance of some sort of black bird, he'd be very recognisable.
"You must be Harry… Potter, is it?" McGonagall asks, reading from the sheet of paper in front of her. At his name, she raises her head to peer at him over her crescent glasses. "Any relation to the Potter Agency heroes?"
Harry nods once. "They're my parents."
She raises an eyebrow. "I would've expected the child of such prominent heroes to aim for the hero course," she comments, still looking over his application form. "Oh, I see - quirkless." He's very glad to hear that there's no noticeable sympathy in her voice. There are far too many people who state the fact like he has some sort of incurable disease.
"Well, if you're not aware - My name is Professor McGonagall, and this is Professor Dumbledore,' she motions to him, "and Professor Snape."
"It's an honour to meet you," Harry says. He's not so sure that Professor Snape feels the same way. He's glaring at Harry with beady yellow eyes, all the more prominent when they're surrounded by his oily black feathers and yellow beak.
I guess it was too much to expect to escape the quirkless bigotry, even here.
"You'll find your creation over there," McGonagall informs him, motioning over to the side of the room, where only a few devices remain. Harry's can be seen clearly among them, his assigned case number stuck to it's outside. They'd all been forced to hand over their creations at the start of the day, presumably so the staff could scan them for any potential security issues. After all, UA is as well known for it's unbelievably stringent security as it is for being the top hero school.
He quickly retrieves the large metal case and returns to the centre of the room, directly in front of their desk. McGonagall gives him a happy nod to let him know he can begin when he's ready. He bends down to flick open the latches. His devices are still firmly locked into the hardened foam inside. He pulls out the larger piece.
It's a jet black, cylindrical device, with two sharp, silvery metal prongs visible on the top side. It's hollow and thin, the perfect width for Harry's arm to slip inside. He holds it aloft in front of the teachers.
"This is a wrist fitted grappling device," he says, making sure his voice remains loud and concise. He's immediately cut off by an unimpressed scoff from Professor Snape. McGonagall turns to give him a quick glare, but Snape never turns to look at her, though he can doubtless see her out his peripherals.
Harry takes a deep breath. It's okay, you were expecting this reaction. Wait until you show the more impressive parts of the design.
Harry clears his throat. "It has a shooting length of eighty-seven metres, and well enough grappling power and propulsion to carry a person of practically any size, with an exception perhaps for those who have a growth or density quirk," he adds, thinking primarily of the hero Mt. Lady.
"Eighty-seven metres?" Dumbledore asks, leaning over the desk to get a closer look, blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "That's quite a length for such a small device. May I?" He holds out his hand. Harry hands it over. "Fascinating," Dumbledore mutters, just barely loud enough for Harry to hear. "It's quite light, and very sleek in it's design. Most grappling launchers are bulky, especially those intended to be worn on the body."
He hands the device over to Professor McGonagall, who turns it over in her hands in close examination. She gives it several hard raps with her knuckles. "Good choice of materials. Lightweight, but not at all brittle," she adds. Thats quite a compliment indeed. After all, who knows more about chemical composition than someone who can alter it with her quirk?
"I am curious though, how something so unassuming can reach such lengths, and with such a tensile strength as you claim," she says. Harry approaches the desk and turns the device over in her hands. "I left this panel loose in case you wanted to look inside," he informs, gently prying off a thin metal square on it's top side.
Dumbledore and Snape both lean over her shoulder. The inside of the grapple is filled with coils of even thinner metallic cable. Harry knows from his extensive testing that they reach almost exactly eighty-seven metres.
"I've never seen a material like this," McGonagall breathes. Harry steps back and reaches back into his case to pull out extra of the cable that he'd brought for just this occasion. He hands it to her. She grasps it gingerly before grabbing with both hands and pulling, hard. It doesn't stretch, or come anywhere close to breaking.
"This alloy is utterly unique," she determines. "Where on earth did you get it?"
"I designed it myself," Harry says. "It's a combination of different metals, taking the best qualities of each and reducing the negatives as much as I possibly could."
All three teachers look at him as if he'd suddenly changed colour. There is silence for several long seconds before a large smile makes it's way onto Dumbledore's face. "Extraordinary," he claps his hands once.
Harry shifts his head to stare at a random point on the wall as the blood rushes to his face. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. McGonagall hands the device over to Professor Snape, and the loose cable back to Harry, who quickly places it back in his case.
"This is impressive, no doubt, but I can see no way to activate or control it, so in the end it seems no more than a useless bauble," Snape sneers.
I'll show you useless bauble, you jackass.
It's the moment of truth. If the grapple alone isn't enough to get him in, then hopefully the next part of the design is enough to change their minds. No matter how well crafted it might be, a grapple isn't exactly groundbreaking. The next piece of technology that he's built with it is. This is the part of the design that took months to finalise and get working correctly.
Harry reaches once more into his case. What he picks up is the most unassuming device that he'd brought with him. It's just a small black box, only half a centimetre wide and three centimetres long. There's a smaller arm-like appendage that stretches off it's front corner. He stick it onto his temple using a clear, sticky resin, with the arm of the device resting just over his eyebrow.
"Is this part of the same creation?" Snape asks, crossing his feathered arms across his chest. "You cannot show two separate devices."
Harry shakes his head. "No, it's all part of the same design. The grapple can't work without it." He reaches out to take his grapple back from Snape and slides it firmly onto his right arm, making doubly sure that the metal prongs are on the top side. He taps the new device on the side of his head to power it on. "Do you have something I can shoot this into?" He asks, lifting the arm with the grapple in front of him.
"Cementoss can repair any damage dealt," Dumbledore says eagerly. "Use it anywhere you like." Professor Snape looks less than impressed, but beyond the click of his beak snapping shut, he doesn't dispute him.
Harry lifts his arm straight above his head. With a mere thought, the metal prongs shoot upwards and embed themselves firmly into the ceiling. Another thought and Harry is rising slowly through the air, the grapple lifting him off the ground with ease. He speeds the process up and flies towards the roof, until he can reach out with his free hand to stop himself.
"I can control the speed, the direction, or I can call it back to the device itself," Harry says, looking down now at the interviewing teachers.
Dumbledore begins to laugh. "Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!
"I don't understand how-" McGonagall starts off, but she doesn't seem to know how to finish.
Yes!
This is exactly what he was hoping for. There have been ventures into this sort of technology before, but as far as Harry has been able to find out, nobody has been as successful with it as he.
"There are no buttons you pressed, nor any obvious method of activating the device. So how did you do it?" Snape asks, his voice lined with barely veiled suspicion. "Are you not quirkless after all?"
Harry lowers himself to the floor and releases the cable from the roof. It snaps back into place on his wrist. "If I'm not mistaken," Dumbledore begins, clearly happy to answer for him, "I'd say young Mr. Potter has created a successful neurotransmitter."
"Impossible," Snape scoffs.
Harry smiles. He's not all that surprised to see him guess correctly. One doesn't become headmaster of the support course at UA without being supremely intelligent.
"Evidently not," McGonagall says with a slight shake of her head.
Dumbledore leans forward over the desk again. "Can I see it?" Harry has to fight the urge to laugh with glee. One of the brightest minds in the world is acting like an excited schoolboy over something that he has created. Harry taps the transmitter to turn it off before removing it and handing it over to the elderly professor.
Dumbledore squints as he holds it up in front of his glasses. "Much, much smaller than what I would expect of a device such as this," he says.
"Yes. The first prototype was much bigger, and it would have remained bigger if I'd needed it to connect to even one more device, at least if I was connecting it in the same way," Harry explains. "It took an awful lot of work to get it that small."
"So this small device is connected to the one on your wrist?" McGonagall asks. Harry nods. "And also somehow to your thoughts?"
Harry nods again. "It can send off and receive small electrical signals, like firing synapses, only they control the movement of this," he says, holding up the grapple once more.
"Fascinating," Dumbledore murmurs again, still turning the neurotransmitter over in his hands. "My eyes aren't quite what they used to be, but I believe I can see a projector, here." He points to the arm that branches off the main square.
"…Yes," Harry answers uncertainly. "I've been trying to come up with a different method of giving the neurotransmitter control over multiple devices. The projector is connected to that project, not really the one I've chosen to show you today."
Dumbledore tilts his head. "I'd very much like to hear about it, if you don't mind."
Harry hesitates. Omni is nowhere near ready, or even as complete as he would want it to be before showing it. He should quit while he's ahead. The teachers are already clearly impressed, and he thinks he will probably get in. That said, it's likely the best opportunity he's going to get to show them what he's really capable of.
It's a risk, but if it pays off? I'll be certain to get in.
"I can show you, if you like," Harry hesitantly offers.
Snape shakes his head with unnecessary vigour. "No applicant is allowed to show more than one piece of equipment!"
"Hush Severus," Dumbledore immediately shuts him down, not even bothering to look at him as he does so. He nods at Harry to continue. Harry reaches for the neurotransmitter Dumbledore is still holding. He sticks it back onto his temple and turns it back on, this time giving it a double tap to activate the projector as well.
A holographic projection forms in front of his left eye. It's like a tony computer screen, glowing blue. Wherever he looks, different numbers and figures jump onto the screen, instantly calculating and showing the measurements and details of what he can see.
"Three-dimensional projection?" McGonagall asks. Harry nods. "Impressive for so small a device, but what does it have to do with the neurotransmitter, and connecting more devices to it?"
Harry opts not to answer her, instead pulling his phone out of his pocket. Both she and Snape pull odd faces, but they don't say anything. Dumbledore still watches with rapt attention. Harry scrolls through his lists of applications until he sees the one he designed himself. The app called Omni. He opens it.
"Omni, are you there?" Harry asks.
"Good afternoon, Harry," Omni answers through the phone's speakers. Omni's voice is definitively male sounding, though very slightly robotic. It's not too surprising, given that it's a computer generated voice.
Snape scowls again, but Dumbledore is still watching like he's seeing the greatest TV show of all time.
"Omni, can you give me a rough description of what we can see?" He asks, holding the phone out in front of him and double checking that it's on loudspeaker.
"Certainly, Harry," Omni says matter of factly. "You are in a room approximately ten point two five metres by twelve point five metres long. There is one window on the south side of the room measuring seven point five metres. There are three humans sitting at a desk in front of the window, seemingly two males and one female-" Omni continues.
"That's enough, thank-you," Harry says, and Omni stops abruptly.
Once again the professors remain silent, but this time he really can't read what they're thinking. Deciding it won't hurt to show more, he takes the grapple off his wrist and aims the metallic prongs back towards the roof.
"Omni, release the grapple."
Omni doesn't answer, but the grapple shoots upwards into the roof. Harry lets it go and lets it hang by it's cable alone.
"Slowly retract," Harry orders. It begins to move slowly down towards the floor.
"Now pull it up, fast," he says, causing the device to fly upwards towards the ceiling.
"Release." The grapple drops out of the air, and Harry reaches out to catch it smoothly.
He closes the app and puts his phone back in his pocket. The nerves are back. This was a terrible idea. Still, the teachers faces' remain impassive and unreadable, even Dumbledore's.
Snape is the first to speak. "That was artificial intelligence, was it not?"
Harry nods slowly.
"Damned fool!" He spits. "Do you even understand what you've done?" Shit. His head becomes heavy, and he lets it drop towards his chest. It was a stupid risk, and I never should have done it. Looks like I'm not going to UA after all. That thought hurts more than anything has hurt him in his whole life.
"Severus, stop," Dumbledore says firmly.
Snape turns a betrayed eye on him. "Albus," he pleads. "You must see that what this boy has created is potentially devastating."
Dumbledore shrugs. "Artificial intelligence is indeed potentially dangerous. Not unlike a powerful quirk in the wrong hands, or a car being driven by a negligent driver."
Snape apparently knows when he's facing a losing battle, and instead turns to Professor McGonagall.
"Minerva, surely you agree that this kind of research and the progress he has made with it is incredibly dangerous!"
She ignores him, instead focused on Harry himself, who shifts awkwardly on his feet. "Do you disagree with Severus' conclusions, Mr. Potter?"
Once more, Harry hesitates.
Lie.
But he can't.
"I don't… disagree?" He says, uncertain. "Artificial intelligence has very dangerous potential, I'll admit. But Omni isn't dangerous."
"Then you're saying that Omni isn't an artificial intelligence?" McGonagall asks.
Harry shakes his head slowly. "… It is," he clarifies nervously. "But not in the way that you're thinking."
"Perhaps if you explain further," Dumbledore offers.
Harry nods. "Artificial Intelligence can be considered dangerous because it is endlessly goal-oriented regardless of the situation it is in. It must reach it's programmed goal no matter what stands in it's way. Also, because it is self-learning, there is no guarantee that it can be fully controlled. But not Omni."
"Omni has been programmed from the ground up to help me reach my goals, and has very strict rules about the way it can do that. It's true that Omni can act autonomously, in a way, but the person using Omni must be the one taking direct action, the one giving the orders. Omni is but one half of a whole."
"And whoever is using Omni is the other half?" Dumbledore asks.
"That's right."
Professor McGonagall pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "How long have you been working on this… Omni?"
Harry thinks back for a moment. "About three months, I guess?"
Snape is still shaking his head. "I've heard enough. We should be doing everything we can to shut this project down immediately," he says angrily, slamming a feathered hand on the desk.
Harry's stomach might as well be doing somersaults at this point.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. He chants in his head. He's never regretted anything like he regrets showing Omni too early. He should have waited until he can prove it isn't dangerous. McGonagall lets out a sigh and leans back in her chair. Harry is reminded of Murtaugh from the Lethal Weapon series and his catchphrase - 'I'm too old for this shit.'
"Mr Potter, I'd like to offer you a full scholarship to the support course here at UA," Dumbledore says very suddenly, without any sort of consultation with his fellow teachers. Harry's eyes go wide as saucers.
"Albus, you cannot possible be serious!" Snape tries.
Dumbledore smiles. "And why not? Young Harry here has just proven to us exceptional ability in the fields of advanced computing, chemistry, physics, even biology. We would be remiss if we let this opportunity pass us up."
"But this artificial intelligence of his is-"
Dumbledore cuts him off, firmer this time. "If we were scared of every technological achievement we ever came across, human beings would still be finger-painting on cave walls."
"But this sort of progress should be monitored-"
"And it will be monitored, here at UA, under your ever watchful gaze," Dumbledore chirps happily. "Should he accept, that is."
Oh, I accept. I accept SO much.
"What do you think, Minerva?" Snape asks his colleague, no doubt hoping she will fully agree with his point of view.
"Well," she begins. "You're not incorrect, but neither is Professor Dumbledore. If this sort of research is to occur, it should be done here, where it can be properly monitored. I certainly agree that he should be offered a scholarship. I would have suggested it even if he had not shown his artificial intelligence. The grapple and neurotransmitter alone go quite far beyond what has already been accomplished in the way of computer-human interfacing. I look forward to seeing what he can accomplish with our resources."
Harry beams. He's not sure he deserves such a glowing review, but he's more than happy to accept it.
"Then it's settled. Unless Mr Potter chooses to go in another direction, he will be attending UA Support next semester," McGonagall says. "Congratulations. You should be very proud of yourself."
"Thank-you." Harry says, on the verge of reverence. "Thank-you so much."
Except you, Snape. Harry is still shaking with nervousness at how close he had come to not getting into the school at all. His entire future on a plate, and Snape had almost dropped it like a clumsy waiter.
"It was truly a pleasure meeting you, young man. I think we can expect great things from you," Dumbledore adds.
Harry places his devices back into the case and leaves the room. He couldn't stop smiling even if tried.
Momo screams incoherently through the phone.
Harry laughs. He's currently walking through the streets after leaving his interview. It's late now, having had to spend so long waiting for his interview, and the sun has already gone down, but Harry doesn't care. He's in. Of course Momo is the first person he wants to tell.
"I knew you'd get in!" She says, still borderline screaming. She stops suddenly. "No Mum, I'm fine, just excited!" Harry hears her call out, causing him to laugh again.
"Well, I wasn't sure I would get in for a minute or two there, but I did it," Harry says, still unable to wipe the smile from his face.
"I didn't think you'd find out so soon," Momo admits, her tone just as excited as Harry himself feels. "I thought you'd have to wait for an acceptance letter in the mail like everyone else."
Harry tells her about what happened in the interview. He tells every detail. As she always does, Momo hangs on his every word. She's the one person in his life who seems to listen to him absolutely.
"That's so great. Now we're both in on recommendation," Momo says.
"I guess we are," Harry laughs. "I really wanted you to be the first to know."
"That's sweet."
"Have you eaten? I feel like celebrating before I go home and my family finds some way to crap all over my happiness," Harry says, only somewhat joking. They'll be happy for him of course, but there'll definitely be an undertone of them not really caring. He can see it now.
"No, not yet. Want me to meet you somewhere?"
Harry's about to answer before he's knocked swiftly off his feet, and a loud blast fills his entire world. It's like a gun going off directly in his ear, and he scrambles backwards along the ground helplessly. The ground shakes beneath him for a moment.
"HARRY!"
His ears are ringing, but he can still make out Momo's frantic voice coming from his phone on the ground nearby.
"HARRY!" She calls again. "Are you there?"
Harry scrambles to the phone and lifts it to his ear. "I'm here," he says with a shaky voice.
"Oh, thank God. What the hell happened?
He's not entirely sure. He can't see over the nearby apartment buildings, but he can hear the sound of people screaming in the distance, and the acrid smell of smoke is beginning to fill his nostrils.
"I… uhh - I think there was an explosion," he says, still dazed.
"Where are you?" Momo demands. "Are you hurt?"
Harry starts running towards the corner to get a better look. "I'm alright. I think it was around the corner from me."
"Where are you?" Momo asks again, more insistent.
"I'm three or four blocks from UA."
Harry reaches the corner, where he can immediately see people flooding the streets, some of them covered in soot and charcoal. He can see what the source of the explosion was, or at least where it originated. It's an apartment building, about five storey's high, and it's currently burning. There's a huge chunk of the building that's been destroyed, presumably in the blast itself. People are streaming out of the building on the bottom floor, but there's a few on higher storey's waving out the windows for help, clearly stuck.
"Oh my God," Harry breathes.
"What! What is it?
"It's burning. They're stuck," Harry says, talking to himself more than to Momo.
He doesn't even hear what she says in return.
"I have to go," Harry says.
"No! Stay on the line!"
"I have to help them."
"No, Harry wait!"
He hangs up the phone, and runs towards the burning building.
Notes
So that's chapter 2, sorry about the cliffhanger. Just really want to thank everyone who's taken an interest in this fic, especially to those who took the time to review.
If your review had a question, or some comment that I feel I should respond to, I'll do so at the end of the next chapter.
Also, if you didn't notice, I've added that this story updates on Tuesdays AEST (Australia time) to the summary, so look for updates on that day.
Also I wanted to let you know, even if its probably crazy obvious in this chapter, that I am by no means knowledgeable about scientific processes. I know random facts, and can kind of research other areas (where I can understand what Im reading lol) but I'm not going to get terribly bogged down with how things work and why.
Thanks Again!
Review Responses
Purple Kisses - The pairing won't be the main point of this fic, but there will be one. There are two routes it could go, but I'm leaning more heavily towards one than the other. One of those two routes is a slash pairing for Harry.
Reymen - I can see your point about it being cliche, but I have to say it didnt really bother me that much because its been established on My Hero that quirkless people do tend to suffer in a world full of quirks (how could they not?) Even if they aren't bullied about it I can't help but feel they would constantly feel inferior to those who do have them.
I also kind of agree about the teacher thing sort of being unrealistic for people who never had a teacher who was underqualified. I myself had several. Thats not me being arrogant, I mean a couple of my teachers at school were terribly underqualified.
On the topic of Harry's bullying, especially by his brother, keep in mind that in this fic, not everything is as completely black and white as they seem. It might seem like it's going to be, but this will definitely not be a fic where Harry is awesome and everyone who ever wronged him will suffer as a result.
