Harry Potter and the Hermetic Arts
Chapter 6: Books and Dice
Jason nodded to Harry and Karen as they entered Bourne's Comics and Games, and the two returned the the greeting with a smile before they made their way to the back room.
The raven-haired woman looked up from what she was writing as the door to the back door opened, and seeing the young boy, she practically leapt out of her seat, rushing over and seizing him by the shoulders and pull him forcefully into the back room while the brunette closed the door behind herself.
"What's the matter Romy?" asked Harry.
"'Squeak, those gold coins you gave me to test? They're pure gold," said the chemistry post-graduate, practically shaking with excitement.
"I don't get it," the boy said, confused by her enthusiasm.
"They're pure gold, 'Squeak," Romy said. "Not even twenty-four karat gold is one hundred percent gold; because of impurities, twenty-four karat gold is usually only ninety-nine point nine percent pure."
"And the gold pieces are pure gold," said the boy, as the information sank in. "What about the silver and bronze pieces?"
"Also pure," the noirette confirmed, as she went back to her notes.
"And the magical economy runs on these gold, silver and bronze pieces," said the boy, as the gears in his mind turned. "My vault alone is the about half the size of the back room, but the ceiling is higher, and it's almost full of piles of coins, mostly gold pieces."
Romy worked her mouth, trying to find the words to convey her next thought. It was Harry, however, that spoke first.
"I may well be a multi-millionaire," said Harry, and Romy nodded. "It's a shame most of it is tucked away in a vault somewhere."
It was this moment that Shaun and Harry's bearded, bespectacled friend walked through the door, arguing over something, Shaun carrying an open case of Guinness Foreign Extra Stout, an unopened bottle in handle.
"Good timing," Harry said, interrupting the argument. "What's gold worth, 'Fessor?"
"I don't have the exact number, but something like six pounds to a gram," said the bearded man, giving the boy a quizzical look.
"What are the measurements for a gold piece?" Harry asked.
"Nineteen millimeters in diameter and a millimeter thick exactly, and little over 34 grams," said the chemistry post-graduate, as the proprietor of the shop joined them in the back room.
"One hundred gold pieces," said the boy to the pouch around his neck as he tilted it over towards his hand, and out fell a stack of gold pieces standing ten centimeters in height. Picking up the stack of coins between two fingers, he held it up for all those in the room to see as he did a small bit of mental math. "This is worth more than twenty thousand pounds, and it's a small fraction of what I'm carrying now, which is minuscule compared to how much is in my vault, and Karen can confirm how much is in the vault."
"There's a lot," agreed the actress.
"That's half of what I make in a year," said Shaun almost enviously.
"Yet, still not enough to live comfortably in London for a year," said the bespectacled man, shaking his head ruefully.
"But according from what I can gather from the exchange rate, though," said Harry, "I wouldn't get more than five hundred pounds for it at the goblin bank. I could melt this down and sell it and that'd be a better return."
"As long as you don't flood the market."
"What're we talking about?" asked Martin as he came into the back room, dressed in a forest green polo shirt and tailored trousers.
"How much the 'Squeak's worth," said Shaun, nodding to the stack of coins the boy was holding.
"I brought books too," Harry said, noting the disinterest on Martin's face turn into fascination. "Hold up a minute."
Dropping the stack of coins in a pile next to Romy's notes, Harry opened his haversack and reached inside, rooting around for a moment before frowning and putting the bag down on the table and reaching his arm into the bag, seeming to feel around for a moment before he suddenly lost his balance and fell in.
A shocked silence hung in the air for a moment before it turned into panic as the adults in the room scrambled like chickens with their heads cut off, talking over each other as they tried to marshal a rescue. Only Jason seemed unfazed, instead going up to the bag and calling into it, "'Squeak, you hurt?"
"No, landed in some books," the boy called back, his voice seeming to be far away. "Was just a lot deeper than I expected. Give me a few minutes to get organized and bring up some books."
The chaos caused by the panic settled in a low simmer as the others turned to look at Jason, who shrugged. "Better to check the situation before panicking."
"Harry needs money," said bespectacled man. "Pounds and pence; real money, not whatever that magical society calls their coins. If he doesn't have that, he can't do anything in the real world."
"What are you suggesting Ethan?" asked Shaun, frowning.
"We should convince Harry to liquidate some of his gold," said the man as he stroked his beard. "From the way he tells it, he won't miss it, and it'll give him spending power here."
"I could make a few phone calls," said Jason. "I know some people who will buy gold at a fair price, no questions asked."
It was at this moment Harry came flying out of the bag, shirtless and a pair of white-feathered wings sprouting from his shoulders, his wadded up shirt in his mouth and a stack of books carried in his hands, the illusion of wearing a suit dispelled. Landing softly, he dropped the books unceremoniously onto the table, then took the shirt from his mouth as the wings on his back melted back into his body, pulling the shirt back on.
Just as a platinum blonde woman came into the back room, squeaked in surprise and covered her eyes.
"Told you I could fly," he said to Karen, who nodded silently. Seeing the newcomer, he smile. "Hallo Professor," he said, before addressing the room. "So, I need to sell some of this gold if I'm going to buy the rest of the things I'll need before going to boarding school."
"What happened while I was gone?" asked the platinum blonde.
"Short version, Sarah, is there's a secret magic society and Harry's going to magic boarding school on the First of September," said Karen. "He's also secretly a very wealthy. And he brought books from the magical society."
There was a scramble as Sarah, Martin, Ethan and Romy all went for the books; in the end, Sarah came away with Magical Creatures, My Life as a Muggle and Modern Magical History, Romy had taken Living With Legilimens: Choose Your Minds Wisely and Martin had World Mythology in hand while My Life as a Squib was the book Ethan had taken. Only after the initial scrum did the others approach the remaining books; after some hesitation, Shaun picked Animal Ghosts of Britain and Karen took The Dream Oracle.
"Just to be clear, I took books from the stacks I have in my bag at random," Harry said.
"I'll take care of the sale of the gold," Jason volunteered. "And I'll pay you an advance of two thousand pounds."
"Thanks for that," said Harry with a nod to the hobby shop's proprietor. "A finder's fee would be appropriate, I believe. Will twenty percent suffice?"
"Five percent," countered Jason, crossing his arms with a slight smile on his lips.
"Fifteen," Harry argued back.
"Nine."
"Twelve."
"Ten, and that's my final offer."
"Ten, then," said Harry, and he and Jason shook on the deal.
"That is the strangest negotiation I've ever witnessed," said Ethan, shaking his head.
~ooOoo~
It took another half-hour for everyone to settle in and get the table set up for the night's entertainment; in the meantime, Jason had taken the thin stack of gold coins from the table and returned with a handful crisp of fifty-pound banknotes, counting forty into Harry's hands and making good on his word, while Shaun had finished off another bottle of Guinness and started on another one. The proprietor, in the meantime, had returned to the front of the shop to watch some teenage students who had come in to peruse the selection of comics available for sale.
Clearing his throat, Martin assumed a deep, ominous voice. "Picking up from where we left off last time, you are in a dark, dank dungeon, having just pulled the camp you set the previous night to nurse you wounds. The air is thick with dust and gloom, and the oppressive weight of Hendarr, Lord of All Dark Things, weighs upon you like a thousand sleepless nights."
"Poetic, as always," Sarah remarked.
The man in the green polo shirt gave her a dirty glance, but otherwise continued his narration. "In the eastern passage from whence you came remain the traps Hildy laid before your group set up camp for the evening." As Romy pumped her fist in silent victory, Martin continued. "In the northward wall, you see the only other door to the chamber, barricaded by furniture and barred with a thick iron beam, still there from the previous night."
"We unbarricade the door, then open it," said Sarah.
Martin placed down a set of map tiles with a nod. "Then?"
"I could send a mount through first in case there are traps," said Harry.
"Hildy will lead, carefully searching for traps," said Romy with a negatory shake of her head as she played with her dice.
"I'll follow closely with my sword drawn," Shaun said.
"I'll follow with an arrow nocked," the actress declared.
"And I'll bring up the rear," Harry said, getting a nod of agreement from Sarah.
With the formation of the group declared, the miniatures on the table moved into the hallway without any help and then stopped, ask if awaiting the story to continue.
Behind the paper screen, Martin rolled some dice. "About three meters into the corridor, you manage to stop just short of breaking a barely visible tripwire set at knee level."
"Hildy attempts to disable the trap," Romy said, picking up two ten-sided dice and rolling them onto the table after a quick shake in both hands.
The first dice stopped quickly, showing a "0"; the second dice, bounced twice before hitting the screen between the dungeon master and the players, ricocheting almost in slow motion before it also landed on "0".
"Shit!" swore the noirette, frowning.
Behind the screen, Martin rolled a fistful of dice. "As you are working on disabling the tripwire, you accidentally tug it too hard and a blade descends from the ceiling, slicing deep into your skull and tearing loose a chunk of hair, skin and bone from your head. You take fifty-four points of damage and need a save throw against death."
"Fuck," Romy cursed in frustration, throwing her dice hard against the table in frustration. "Hildy's already below zero hit points."
Curses filled the room as Romy pushed her seat away from the table angrily, standing up as the miniature representing her toppled over. "I'm going to have Guinness," she announced, and Shaun nodded sympathetically.
"You can only watch in horror as the halfling collapses bonelessly to the floor, brains spilling from her cleft-open skull like scrambled eggs out of a knocked-over skillet," Martin narrated. "Meanwhile, the blade has ascended back into the ceiling, leaving the twitching pile that is Hildy's remains as the only evidence of the trap's existence."
"I'm sorry, Romy, I offered," said the boy to the noirette, and she smiled weakly.
"Wasn't your fault," she said. "Just the dice."
"Well, I'm going to cast mount with...," said Harry, stopping when he felt a hand on each of his shoulders.
"No actually casting the spell," reminded Shaun firmly.
"Remember, the first time you cast a real spell in a game, we had to write off the table, the map and the miniatures because it was burning hands and you torched everything we were using," added Martin.
Harry flushed in embarrassment at the memory. "I cast mount and send it down the corridor to check for traps just to be safe," he said, marking down something on the paper before him before taking a miniature of a horse from a box next to the map and putting it onto the map ahead of the miniature representing his character.
"I move out of the way," said Shaun.
"Me too," Karen and Sarah echoed.
"I slap the horse on the rump and send it down the corridor," said Harry.
Martin checked his notes, then resumed narrating, which made the horse miniature start moving along the corridor on the map. "The horse starts down the hallway in a trot and continues down the length of the corridor unharmed, stopping only at the door at the end."
"We follow the horse," Sarah said, and remaining players nodded in agreement, causing the miniatures to move after the horse miniature.
"I try the door," said Shaun.
"The door is not locked and in fact has no handle," narrated Martin, picking up another map tile as he spoke. "As soon as you put a hand on it, it falls off its hinges, revealing a high-ceilinged antechamber." Reaching into the box besides the map, he plucked a larger miniature from its peers and placed it at the center of the new tile with a grand gesture. "At the center of this chamber, you see a humongous, ungainly creature with rubbery, moss green hide: a troll."
"That's a hill giant," said Rosemary as she sat back down at the table, an opened bottle in hand.
"What?" asked Martin, confused.
"The miniature," Harry said. "It's a hill giant."
"Oh, right," said Martin, going back into the box of miniatures to find the one he was looking for before replacing the one on the map with it. "Roll initiative."
"Harry, you roll," Shaun suggested, and the other players all looked to Harry, who shrugged and rolled a ten-sided dice. "One."
Behind the screen, Martin rolled dice. "You go first."
"I charge the troll with my sword," said Shaun, and his miniature immediately made a beeline for the troll miniature at the center of the new map tile even as he rolled his dice. "Four!"
"You swing your sword at the large, lumbering brute of a creature, but you miss. The troll sneers at you, its jagged yellow teeth showing themselves as its lips part."
"I release the arrow I have nocked," said Karen, as she rolled dice. "Eight."
"Your arrow goes wide of the troll's head, flying until it strikes a wall and clatters to the floor."
"I cast Melf's acid arrow," said Harry, marking down something on his paper before rolling dice. "Twelve."
"From your fingers flies a sickly green of acid that strikes the troll in its shoulder, making it roar furiously in pain. Roll for damage."
Harry quickly rolled more dice. "Five."
"I cast bless," said Sarah, "centered on Rickard."
Behind the screen, Martin rolled dice for several moments, then said, "The troll flails wildly with its claws before biting Rickard. He takes 7 from a claw attack and 10 from a bite."
"I attack the troll with my sword," said Shaun, rolling dice again. "One. Shit."
Behind the screen, Martin rolled more dice. "I'm sorry Shaun, but as you attack the troll, you trip, flinging your sword into the air. When it falls back to Earth, it pierces into your skull just above the base, killing you."
"That's... terrible," said Shaun, taking a long pull from his beer between words before slumping in his chair. "I hate fumbles."
"This is going badly," said Sarah darkly. "I cast sanctuary on myself."
"I cast Melf's acid arrow," said Karen, before nudging Harry as she rolled her dice and marked her paper. "Thanks for letting me learn that from your spellbook. Two, shit."
Harry quickly rolled his dice. "Seven damage from the acid arrow," he said, before marking something else and rolling more dice. "I cast flaming sphere on the troll. Five damage."
Martin rolled dice and made notes, then said, "Livid, the troll charges at Jalsi. He hits claw, claw, bite, for twenty-one hit points damage."
"I'm dead," said Karen with a sigh, flicking her character sheet across the table with a sigh.
"Go back to town, I'll distract the troll," said Harry to Sarah, who frowned but nodded. "I roll the flaming sphere to the troll. Seven damage."
As Martin made notes, Sarah said, "I retreat back down the corridor which we came from."
Martin quickly rolled some dice, then shook his head. "As you are retreating from the skirmish, you step on a upraised tile in your haste and the floor opens under you. You call into a pit filled with huge iron spikes, taking seven damage from the spikes and twenty one points of damage from the poison the spikes are laced with."
"And that's me," said Sarah, angrily tearing up her character sheet.
"I think this is it," said Harry, after looking at his character sheet for a moment. "I don't have anything that will let me handle this troll, and even if I did, I can't return the way I came from, so all I'd be able to do is push ahead, on my own, and that'd kill me eventually."
"You could always flip the table," Romy suggested.
"And get banned for a month like I did last time?"
Martin nodded his understanding. "I'm sorry, the dice just unkind today. The troll, however, reaches down, seizing you and lifting you off the floor. The last thing you see is the creature's jagged teeth, and its rancid breath stains your lungs even as you scream in agony when the creature bites into your body, tearing you to two pieces at the waist."
Author's Notes: And here comes the gore.
Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 2nd Edition is notoriously brutal, and this was an example of that. TPKs weren't uncommon when the dice weren't rolling your way, and I wanted to capture that feeling of misery, particularly as a former AD&D 2E player.
Again, my thanks to Shinshikaizer for the original pitch, and goalie12345 for proof-reading.