The First Hundred (Part 1 of 2)

Magic is a mysterious thing. For thousands of years, humans and other lesser known species have been creating, practicing and studying magic. The first recorded usage of magic comes from scrolls discovered by Gringotts in an ancient Egyptian tomb. They are thought to be almost six thousand years old.

Theories about how magic came to be, and why certain individuals are capable of it, are numerous and varied. One of the most commonly held beliefs is that it has been part of life since the beginning. Many have lamented the loss of power over the years, but there has been no proof that the number or percentage of magical beings has changed significantly throughout history. Tales of Atlantis and Merlin and other notable examples of extreme power have more than likely been exaggerated through the stories told and passed down through the generations.

Throughout the history of the wizarding world, the application of magic has changed very little. Witches and wizards use it to make their lives easier and more convenient, similar to muggles and technology. However, unlike muggle technology, magic has not advanced.

Certainly there have been innovations in spell creation, potions, the mind arts and the many other branches of magic. The core of it, the reason for its existence, has never been explained. Discovering that you can use electricity to not only power a light bulb but also a computer is not the same as discovering you can create electricity.

Muggles have been discovering and creating for thousands of years, and while the magical world has benefitted from these advancements, magic has been static.

Maybe there isn't anything more to discover about magic. Maybe magic just is, and there is no way to answer the 'whys' that have been asked. That's no reason to stop asking, though.

Harry woke up without knowing the time. He went through his normal routine: filled his water bottle, took a nutrient potion, ate a protein bar and then straightened up the farm's office.

Each day was the same. Harry would erase all evidence of his existence and then explore the Ares. It was a massive ship. Eight hexagonal toruses encircled the central shaft. From the observation port at the front, to the nuclear powered engines was a distance of over six-hundred meters. He was careful to not be seen by the occasional technician and used his cloak.

There was enough room for a thousand people on the Ares, but the First Hundred were afforded more care than even most of them believed they deserved, according to Hermione. Harry eventually came to know his way around the ship as well as the designers.

One night, about a week after he had arrived, a week in compete isolation other than his AI, he had floated into the dining hall kitchen in Torus B. The sight of several metric tons of dehydrated food made his mouth water. Everything from porridge to mashed potatoes to sausage lined the supply cabinets. Packets of dried vegetables and fruits, so many different types that he could not recognize many of them, drew his eyes, and it was all Harry could do to stop himself from stealing a few for himself. The protein bars Hermione had supplied him with were everything he needed to survive, but they were tasteless. The potions were revolting.

Harry floated by the door trying to convince himself to go out and explore yet again. It was the only barrier he had against the boredom that was beginning to consume him. But his wanderings were becoming tiring. He often felt fatigued and long ago memories of growing up in a cupboard flitted through his mind. The two experiences were not really comparable, but the crushing isolation was depressingly familiar.

Right as he began to push the door open the normally dim lights inside the farming office, as well as the lights outside in the greenhouse section of the tank, flickered to life.

Harry squinted, ready to bolt to the rear exit of the office. Three technicians floated into the farm-to-be with a train of sealed crates trailing behind them. He watched as they used small motors, apparently computer controlled to maintain the crates' stability using short bursts of pressurized air, to guide the train inside. They unpacked them as quickly as was possible in micro-gravity, though they left several unopened and began to float them towards the office where Harry had been making his home for the past- Harry realized he had no idea how long he had been on the Ares. Could it have been three weeks already?

He shook his head. Hermione had said there would be several deliveries in the final three days before the First Hundred arrived: perishable goods, farming supplies, nutritional supplements for the colonists and their personal effects. Only three more days, then. Or possibly less. Harry rapidly covered himself with the invisibility cloak and grabbed his bag before slipping through the back door of the farm office and entering a storage tank. More than half of all the tanks that made up the toruses of the Ares were nothing more than holding areas for supplies the colony would need on Mars that couldn't survive waiting on the planet's surface for two years. Much of the heavy machinery needed for constructing the colony was at the designated landing point, waiting to be assembled into humanity's first permanent home away from Earth. Everything else would be brought along with them, hence the need for such a huge ship.

Harry had once seen John Boone interviewed on Muggle television. He had still been on Mars, during that three week period when the entire world had seemed to stop. The interview had been recorded so that the viewers wouldn't be forced to wait on the fifteen minute delay for the questions to reach John and then another fifteen minutes for his answer to return to Earth. James, Ginny and Lily had not been interested, with James even going as far as to repeat what some of his pureblood friends had stated; that it was an elaborate hoax. Harry had taken the boys to a few films before they'd started Hogwarts, and James was convinced that since the first Mars Landing wasn't as visually impressive, it couldn't be real. After all, if Muggles could make it look like you were watching a recording of ancient Earth or spaceships in another galaxy, why did the visual quality from Mars look resemble the family holiday videos Dudley made them watch every summer?

But Albus was entranced. He had stared, transfixed at the television, laughing at John's jokes and muttering exclamations to himself throughout the interview. His son's fascination with the Mars mission began to spiral out of control, to the point where he spent hours researching it and almost lost the ability to speak of anything else. Harry bought him a muggle model of the landing craft. On the box, a picture of it relative to a double decker bus showed how small it truly was. Harry and Albus both had shuddered, though for different reasons, at the thought of spending almost two years inside something so small, with no escape except for the desolation of space or the poisonous atmosphere of Mars.

However, Harry was on the Ares. It was the largest spacecraft ever built. But unlike the first mission, this would be a three-hundred day, one-way trip.

He spent the rest of the day avoiding the technicians. There were several times when he was afraid that his feet had been revealed by someone passing by and creating a breeze. He waited, holding his breath, while the fear of being sent back to Earth and never seeing Hermione again made his heart pound in his ears.

No one noticed him. He eventually found himself in the observation bubble at the front of the Ares and hooked his feet into one of the tethered footholds before curling his legs up and wrapping himself completely in his cloak. None of the technicians had any reason to interrupt him there. The various instruments and telescopes had been installed months earlier.

Harry floated for hours in the darkened room. After the first few minutes had passed and his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he'd glanced out the window.

The Ares' orbit was about halfway between Earth and the moon, nearly two-hundred thousand kilometers from Earth. From such a distance, it was difficult to make out any details of either, but one thing Harry could see was stars. Billions of them. Nothing in his Astronomy classes had prepared him to see the entire universe outside a single window. It was a paralyzing sight. Harry's breathing had sped up as he had begun to hyperventilate. His heart raced as a sense of vertigo, combined with the micro-gravity, forced his eyes closed.

After a minute of deep breathing, Harry calmed himself and reopened his eyes. The stars were even more prominent and as he floated toward the window at the front of the room, Earth became visible.

It was something he had seen before. Earth, as seen from space, was a well known image even in the magical world. The difference between seeing it in pictures and with his own eyes was remarkable. The Earth was obviously a sphere, and even at such a distance he could still make out differences in the clouds and seas. The bright blue of the Mediterranean reflected the sun and Harry's eyes drifted north toward Britain.

It was so small. He couldn't see London, or any city for that matter. The entire planet seemed to be complete wilderness. Different shades of green and blue dominated, with the light khaki and brown of deserts and savannas balancing the cooler colors. Pure, brilliant white glowed at the poles. Antarctica was bathed in sunlight, the southern solstice would occur in - Harry checked his AI and noted the date: December 18, 2026.

Three days.

The Ares would launch on December 21, the day of the southern solstice. The First Hundred were scheduled to arrive on the 19th. Tomorrow. He would see Hermione. Finally, he would have someone to talk to, even if infrequently.

Movement caught his eye. Harry looked to his left and saw a shuttle as it separated itself from the Ares. It floated slowly back and spun on its axis so that it was facing the general direction of Earth. Thrusters fired in bright bursts as the shuttle progressed along its course. Harry watched it with the realization that the next day, ten more would arrive with ninety-nine non-magical passengers and Hermione.

His eyes followed the shuttle until it disappeared among the stars. He then spent several minutes attempting to identify as many of the constellations as he could. It was difficult with so many stars that weren't visible from Earth, but he managed so find a few. He couldn't find Mars. There were too many stars.

Most of the time Harry had spent on the Ares involved getting to know the ship. He'd attempted to read some scientific papers about Mars on his AI, but unlike Hermione, he was unable to concentrate on something so dry for long periods of time. Hermione would read anything and absorbed the knowledge she gained without ever seeming to forget it. That was one of the reasons she had managed to slip herself into the First Hundred selection process without having to use much magical influence.

Harry didn't have the stamina or patience for that. And so, without the ability to fool some of the smartest minds on Earth, regardless of magical ability, he'd had to rely on Hermione's position to sneak aboard and become a stowaway.

Knowing that the almost ten-month journey to Mars would require stealth to avoid the other colonists, Harry spent most of his time finding spots to hide. Concealment would be difficult, even with his cloak, and any detection would be a disaster.

Hermione had impressed on him that using magic onboard the Ares could be enough to kill them all. They'd both witnessed televisions screens flicker and cars stall out because of simple spells. The number of airplane crashes that had been caused by magic were unknown, but several incidents had been confirmed. A simple cooling charm had brought down an Airbus 880 several years earlier, though a miracle landing had resulted in nothing worse than some broken bones.

So Harry knew the importance of not using magic. With his wand stashed in his shrunken bag, the only risk was from wandless or accidental magic. At forty-six years old, accidental magic was something that hadn't happened to him for many years, and since using wandless magic took a great amount of effort and concentration, he was confident in his ability to control himself.

When he finally exited the central shaft and reentered Torus C, Harry heard his stomach growl. He hadn't realized how long he'd been awake and wandering around the Ares. The farm tank was just as dim as before, but the crates that were secured to the walls in the various greenhouses made it look like a new home that was about to be unpacked. He glanced at some of the crates, curious about their contents. Most them were labeled with various letter and number combinations, which told him nothing. A few had different alphabets. Harry guessed they were Japanese characters, but didn't bother to check his AI.

He entered the farm's office and hooked his bag on the wall before taking off his cloak and stuffing it into his pocket. Reaching into his bag, Harry pulled out a nutrient bar and one of the last bottles of potion Hermione had given him. He sighed as he brought the potion to his lips. Drinking one every three days was a chore that he would have rather done without. The initial taste wasn't too horrible, but the aftertaste lingered for hours and reminded him of what his mouth felt like the morning after drinking too much firewhiskey with Ron or one of the other Weasley brothers.

The nutrient bars did nothing to mask the taste, and Harry had quickly decided that cardboard probably had a more appetizing flavor. As he turned around, water bottle in hand, he noticed that several of the crates that had been delivered earlier were tethered to the wall next to the closet where his cot was stored. As before, the identifying markers on all of them, whether legible or not to Harry, were meaningless. What he did notice, so suddenly that he launched himself halfway across the office away from the crates, was that one of them was moving.

It was shaking in a rhythmic fashion, lurching repeatedly against the tether which was holding it in place. Assuming there was some sort of animal inside, Harry cautiously floated toward the row of crates. He heard grunting of some sort and tried to match the sound to any of the non-magical animals he was familiar with, which admittedly wasn't all that many. A dull thud echoed through the office, which was silent save for Harry's breath and the low hum of the life-support system.

The writing on this particular crate used one of the Asian character systems that Harry had noticed in the greenhouse section of the tank on his way back to the office. In the back of his mind, he wondered again if it was Japanese. They were the only space-faring Asian nation that was contributing to the effort to colonize Mars, with China attempting to increase its own space launch capacity and avoiding most international space ventures.

Another grunt issued from the crate as it jerked against its tether, startling Harry again. He watched in fascination for several minutes as whatever was inside the crate continued to pound against its confinement. A few times, he though he heard something vaguely resembling a voice, but ignored it. Finally, with what sounded unmistakably like a human scream of desperation, the most forceful lunge yet shook the crate and its lid popped up a few millimeters, interrupting the smoothness of the crates exterior.

A muffled exclamation which undoubtedly came from a person caused Harry to immediately retrieve his cloak and cover himself. A series of short, sharp blows from within the crate further loosened the lid. With one final lunge, the lid popped off and flew to the wall before bouncing against it and ricocheting against several other parts of the room before it began to slowly float in a slight spin.

Harry had been ready to duck the wild lid, but realized he wouldn't need to at the same moment he watched the first person he had seen in almost a month slowly float out of the formally shuddering crate. The first thing Harry thought was why Lee Jordan was sneaking aboard the Ares. The other stowaway's dreadlocks were almost identical to Lee's and caused a moment of disorientation for Harry that he quickly shook off. The dark skinned man, who had a somewhat asymmetrical face as if his jaw had been broken at some point, eased himself out of the crate carefully and looked around, eyes wide.

Harry's eyes were wide as well, but more from shock than any sort of wonderment. There was another stowaway, and he had no idea who had helped them or why. He needed to think, and with no concern about what his only fellow passenger, for the moment, would notice, opened the door and floated back toward the observation bubble. He didn't see the look of astonishment mixed with fear from the dreadlocked man behind him.

Finding a a place to think hadn't been too difficult, especially since Harry's mind was whirring at the implications that he was no longer alone aboard the Ares. With less than forty-eight hours until the First Hundred would be arriving, he knew that Hermione would be able to help him with this new puzzle. He began to wander the ship as his thoughts constantly went back to the other stowaway.

The idea that someone would try to sneak on board was not a new one. Obviously, Harry and Hermione had had the same thought and acted on it. But security was so all-encompassing that neither of them had thought it possible without magic. Possible ways to bypass the various guards and technicians crossed his mind, but none of them seamed feasible.

Several hours after he'd watched the other stowaway emerge from the crate, Harry had gone back to the farm's office, concerned that it had all been a hallucination brought on by sensory deprivation and isolation. Nothing in the office had been out of place when he slowly opened the door and slowly floated around the room under his cloak. All the crates were in place and seemingly undisturbed.

Harry slowly rotated, scrutinizing everything in the office, trying to determine if anything had been altered. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, he glided to the closet to confirm that the man he had seen in the crate was some sort of detailed and convincing daydream so he could go to sleep. A sharp intake of breath was the only noise that escaped him as he glimpsed the frightened face of the dreadlocked man cowering in the corner of the closet. Heart pounding, Harry slowly backed away, careful to keep his feet covered by his cloak.

"Who 'dat?" asked the man in a shaky, quiet voice. His eyes were open wide, and Harry could see his pupils contracting as the light of the office poured into the closet where the man must have been hiding in darkness for the past few hours. When no one answered, the man stuck his head out of the closet, frowning at the door. He looked around the room, his eyes passing over Harry without any indication he had spotted the invisible wizard.

Grumbling to himself, the man pulled a small plastic bulb out of his pocket and floated over to the shower stall. Harry watched as he expertly filled it, reminding him of his fumbling attempts when he had first come aboard.

Having thought about what to do if this stowaway was not a figment of his imagination, Harry quietly slipped off his invisibility cloak and tucked it into his pocket. The man appeared to be around his size, though possibly a bit shorter. It was difficult to tell when their positions were perpendicular to each other. In any case, Harry had some ability to fight from his years and training as an auror, and based on the man's movements, he also had better control of himself in micro-gravity.

When the other stowaway finished filling his bulb, he grabbed a handrail and turned toward Harry. When their eyes met, neither man made a sound. Harry did his best to remain expressionless while the other man stared at him, wide-eyed, gripping the handrail so tightly his arm was vibrating. For several moments they just stared at each other before Harry realized he had been holding his breath. He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"How long you been here?" asked the other stowaway in a strange, almost musically accented English.

Harry laughed humorlessly. "Almost three weeks. Who are you?"

A corner of the man's mouth stretched out, highlighting the asymmetry of his jaw. It wasn't quite a smirk. "I'm a stowaway. Same as you, eh?"

Harry nodded. They both relaxed but continued to stare at each other. Harry's thoughts veered wildly for a moment and he realized the other man had probably not eaten since he had been stuffed into the crate he had arrived in.

"You hungry?" he asked the man.

The half smirk contorted into a grimace. "I am."

"We'll eat, then talk. How does that sound?"

"Sounds about right, man."

A/N: This is part 1 of 2 in Chapter 1. Part two should be out sometime in the next week or so.

I need a beta. I have one lined up but this is unbetaed so far. If you spot any mistakes, or have any questions, please let me know. Don't forget to review.