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The primary Authors note for the chapters of this story are located at the end. For those of you (most likely among the majority) who do not read the authors notes either before nor after the bulk of the chapter, this is for you.
Constructive criticism is appreciated and I look forward to it, however if you wish to "Flame" please do so in a clear and concise manner so as I can attempt to fix the problem.
"Character Speaking"
"Character Reading Aloud"
"CHARACTER YELLING"
'Character Thinking'
'Character Reading mentally'
Character Narration
Magic/ Spell use or Quoting
Section or Date / Title
And now, I hope you enjoy this chapter, Of Fakes and Frauds
Please check out the below authors note as i'll be deleting it when I post the next chapter.
November 2nd,
Great Britain,
Hogwarts,
Headmasters office,
9:28 AM.
The man known as Dumbledore sighed deeply, his plans to trap Voldemorts spectral form as well as test harry potter had fallen apart catastrophically. When he had sent the half giant to retrieve the boy he had returned with the worst news possible. The boy was gone, the center key of many of his future plans gone, he had been able to track him somewhat but it had proved fruitless as the instruments and spells he had used to monitor the boy simply weren't capable of tracking someone across continents and certainly not the seas and now he had perhaps even larger problems.
Dumbledore re-read the letter fawkes had delivered just minutes ago. It was simple and short, blunt and to the point, 'I Warned You', it didn't have a sender but there was no other person who could call the tempermental Phoenix. Flamel, the immortal had far better information sources inside the school than he had thought. Flamel had warned him he would bring ruin down on him if any were harmed because of his plans, the young girl who lay in Pomphreys domain symbolised his failure in that aspect.
'Such innocence lost,' but in his defense there was little chance he could he have predicted that Quarrel would release a Mountain troll as a distraction. That would have been like ordering his tool to send a sending a panzer division to wipeout a farming town. Complete overkill, senseless violence and destruction, this wasnt like Tom at all. Well no, now that he thought about it it hadn't been like tom at all, up until the near end of the war that is. Before then he had avoided most civilian population centers and focusing his attention whittling down the ministry. That was until several months before his physical body was destroyed, he had become erratic, short tempered and if from what Severus had reported, cruel, using the Cruciatus as a reward for failure.
Tom had begun attacking civilian targets that he had previously stayed clear from, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Muggle population centers. He had gone from something of a revolutionary for Tradition and blood purity to a simple terrorist like the insane members of the French Resistance that would blow themselves up along with a Cafe or Bar just to get a single SS officer or the occasional Colonel. He had avoided places that would incite violence among the masses, tom had known that you couldn't effectively rule a nation whose majority populace wanted you dead. But he had thrown his careful plans to the wayside in preference of shear violence and destruction and as an ultimate rule he had avoided children, until then. Albus knew from experience that there was nothing that would cause one to take up arms more than holding there dead child.
And now because he had disregarded something like this as happening a young girl who had had a bright future ahead of her was likely to be crippled for life. Crippled because of his actions his in-actions, his failures. He would do his best to atone, but truthfully there wasn't much that would be of any value. He would ensure she could continue her education and personaly craft a replacement limb's for her, something like that of what he had crafted for Alastor during the war would do nicely. It was the least he could do, there were many things magic could fix but alas regrowing entire limbs was not one, sure there was skelegrow but without an existing framework for it to form inside the results could be disastrous. Interesting, but disastrous and hardly the thing a girl her age should go through
A quiet pop of displaced air announced the arrival of a House Elf, the man known as Dumbledore turned to the creature. It was nervous not unlike most house elves when they delivered bad news to someone, "Yes".
The elf bowed deeply, his long nose nearly touching the stone floors, "I apoligises for disturbing you's Master Headmaster but Mistress Healer Pomfrey wanted you to knows the Parents of the wounded, Missys Granger have arrived and are quites upset."
He waved off the contemptible creature, they were usually a bit nervous in his presence, likely they could sense something was off with him, house elves were pretty sensitive to magic that way, but it had been a fair bit more nervous than usual, that told him the Grangers had already seen their daughter. He hadn't wanted them to see her yet for this very reason, there would be no chance an obliviation would be effective now, not with a memory like that. He stood, bones aching in complaint as he rose from his his supremely cushioned chair. He grabbed several lemon drops on his way out, he would need there extra calming properties for this.
November 2nd,
Great Britain,
Hogwarts,
Deputy Headmistresses Office,
8:43 AM.
Minerva flicked her nail against the wax seal of the bottle in her hand, slowly opening it piece by piece. She wedged her nail under a chunk and broke it off with a snap, causing the chip to hit her in the face and flinched back in surprise as if she had been struck. With a heavy sigh Minerva set down the bottle and swept the bits of wax into a small pile with her hand. She had made up her mind. Hermione was stable, after far to many hours under Poppies ministrations, now she would be able to receive visitors and despite the fact that she swe would have loved to drown her sorrows, now simply wasn't the acceptable time. She had promised something to that girls parents, she may have failed in that promise but she would be damned if she didn't at least let them know what happened.
"Reparo," she murmured and the wax bits melted back into the whole of the seal. Minerva slapped herself several times to shock herself awake, now certainly wasn't the time for this. Jerking open her right hand bottom most drawer she dropped the bottle into a bed of wood fibers and slammed it shut. She then opened the center drawer and removed a vial of potion and downed it, making a conscious effort not to smell the foul concoction. Instantly she felt revitalized and rejuvenated, for the moment anyway, long enough to do her task. She stood and tucked her chair away before donning her traveling robes. With a practiced motion she transfigured her clothing into muggle garb, a simple sweater, coat and pants would do for this trip.
'I won't let ye soop this wan unner the rug ye damn Buftie', Minerva thought as she flicked her wand at her fireplace, igniting it into a burst of flame. Reaching up to the mantle she removed a tin and tossed a pinch of floo powder into the flame, turning it emerald and safe to step into,
"Leaky Cauldron!"
November 1st,
Location Unknown,
Rett Pil,
Port Side Railing,
10:43 AM
Hadrian took in a deep breath, tasting the smells of the port town. Brine, oil, fish. It all combined to create a somewhat unsavory scent, but as this was the first time he was able to be on deck while at port he ignored it in favor of examining what he could see of the town.
skip skip skip until later
"Think fast Kid."
Harian spun around to catch whatever Veno was throwing at him, he felt the sharp edges of a large envelope. He lifted envelope up to the sun and examined its contents. "For me," he said, a question and a statement as he took in the man who had been his pseudo guardian aboard the ship wearing his usual combo of blue jeans and a long sleeve shirt, this one tan.
"Yeah," Veno said with a shrug, "go ahead and open it up, your papers should be in there. Anton brought it back after he dropped off the first load of assholes."
Hadrian eagerly ripped off one side of the envelope and pulled out its contents, a birth certificate and passport. He read over the birth certificate first, Hadiran looked up at veno. "Hadrian Smith, riley, Smith. Was John taken or what," he asked sarcastically.
Veno grimaced at the jab, "Oh shut it smart ass, believe it or not people outside the US and the Isles aren't likely to think its a fake name. To them its just another foreigners strange last name, trust me, I use a Mr. Smith ID and nobody ever made a fuss."
Hadrian nodded to himself, that did make sense. "It also says here that i'm fourteen and was born in South Africa, why there."
"It's that accent of your's, there are only three places on earth you could get an english accent like that." He flicked off three fingers and Hadrian mentally noted he tended to do that alot, "England, Hong Kong and South Africa and since you couldn't speak enough Mandarin to save your life despite what Shen has taught you it comes down to south africa. As for your age I put it at that so It would match up to mine and The South African Government has looser child labour laws."
Hadrian furrowed his brow in confusion. "What did you mean matchup to yours," he asked
"Sixth line down, I hadnt thought you would miss that."
Hadrian re-examined the document until he found it, 'Father: Veno Smith, Mother: Arabella Nostranga.' "I suppose that makes sense," he said. But who the hell is Arabe-" Hadrian checked the paper again," Arabella Nostranga?"
Veno shrugged, "Dunno, my guy probobly just bullshited a name most likely or took one out of a phone book. Does it matter?"
"No," Hadrian shook his head, "not really." He flipped open the passport and looked through it, checking his picture and details. He closed it examining the leathery green cover, rubbed at a splotch of coffee and worn edges. Hadrian tried to say what he thought nicely but failed, "This thing looks like shit," he said bluntly.
Veno chuckled and snatched the passport out of his and to flip through it, "It's supposed to look like that, it looks authentic." The man dug his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out his own passport, tossing it to him.
Hadrian examined the passport, a South African one as well and just like his this one was roughed up fairly well if more so. Creases, stains and more than a few worn thin parts covered it. He swapped the passport back with veno.
"So," Hadrian looked up at Veno and smiled, "this means I can go to shore now?"
Veno smiled back, "Yep," he rubbed his hands together and looked over Hadrians shoulder toward the town, "as soon as Anton gets his fatass back here, whenever that will be."
November 2nd,
Great Britain,
Hampstead,
15th Lyndhurst Rd,
8:52 AM.
"Clack, Clack, Clack,"
Gregory sighed in exasperation and turned the page of his newspaper, "Do you want to get that?"
Jean snorted dismissively and peeled open Hermiones latest letter, "Not particularly, I am rather comfortable right here." Jean smiled slightly, "How about you?"
"Clack, Clack, Clack"
Gregory lowered the top half of his paper and stared across the yard at the back door to the house, "I don't think they're going away."
"Clack, clack, clack."
"You may be right, that is one persistent salesman," Jean noted absently as she read Hermione's letter. "Huh, Hermione thinks that stupidity may be an inherent trait among those raised by magicals."
"Clack, Clack, Clack, Clack, Clack, Clack."
"I wouldn't doubt it."
"Clack, Clack, Clack, Clack, Clack,"
Jean slapped the letters down on the table and stood up, nearly toppling her chair over in the process, "THATS IT!" She exclaimed and stormed toward the house.
Gregory grinned, "Thank you dear."
Jean grinned and swung her hip exaggerated and called back, "Que diriez-vous
embrasser mon cul!"
"HAHA, Gregory barked, "I may just take you up on that! He called back at her.
Jean smirked and swung her hips a little extra before jerking the back door open and made her way as calmly to the door as she could, trying to calm her somewhat irrational anger. That failed though when the knocker rapped sharply against its plate again. "I'M COMING, I'M COMING," she yelled. 'This had better not be some blaise salesman,' she thought and opened the door with a forced smile but it fell when she saw who was waiting.
"Professor Mcgonagall," she said stiffly as she took in the woman, "please, come in. What can I do for you, tea or coffee perhaps?" Jean grimace internally, the woman looked horrible with deep dark bags, bloodshot eyes and just a heavy overall weariness to her.
"Im sorry but I now isn't the time for that, Mrs. Granger." Minerva, tried to stand a bit straighter and told herself there was no time to be pussy footing around. "I am afraid there has been an incident at the school, your daughter was hurt badly."
Jean froze, with each of her words it was like an ice cold dagger was being sunk between her ribs. "What did you say."
Minerva turned her gaze downward for a moment, "Last night, there was an incident. A dangerous creature was somehow-" A rough pull cut her off and she was now staring into the enraged eyes of Jean Granger, the mother.
"I had better have misheard," Jean swallowed thickly but kept going. "The last time you were in this house you forced us to send our daughter away to your school. A school you said was the safest place in BRITAIN!" The sudden sound of the back door opening and quick footsteps pounding down the hall distracted her and she shoved the elder woman away in disgust and anguish.
"Jean," Gregory stopped and glanced at the pair warily. He touched his wife's arm slightly and glanced at the other woman, "What is it, Jean." He looked at Mcgonigal angrily, "What happened, what did you say!"
"She said there was an incident with Hermione, that she got hurt," Jean mumbled, the temporary surge of anger and its withdraw leaving her in a haze.
Gregory's eyes locked onto the disheveled woman still standing on the stoop, "Take us to her. Now!"
Minerva stepped inside and shut the door behind her, "That is what I came to do Mr. Granger," she said grimly, "take my hand if you would and we can be off." She offered her left hand to him and after a second of hesitation grasped it with a slightly too strong grip. Minerva held her right hand to Jean, " ." Jean grasped her hand and with a great crack that rattled the house they were gone."
\-/
(-}{XxOxX}{-)
/-\
At the gates of Hogwarts an echoing pop of displaced air signaled the Grangers and Minervas arrival to the village of Hogsmeade. Minerva staggered slightly, Gregory grabbed a hold of the gates to keep from falling and Jean threw up. Minerva cringed at the vile smell, "I apologize for the rough travel, Its not often that I have to carry more than myself. Let alone two people," she waved her wand and vanished the Jean's breakfast.
Jean dabbed at her mouth with a handkerchief as Gregory helped her to her feet, "I don't care for your platitudes." She looked Minerva in the eyes, "Just take us to our daughter."
Minerva nodded in understand at their insistence, "I know, just, give me a moment." She turned and touched her wand to the weathered visage of a lion on the gate that was part of the crest. "Aperite mihi Hoguartensis leo magistrum iubeo domum," she intoned and with just a minor squeak the gates swung open for them. She turned to the Grangers who were now on there feet, although Jean was still a bit pale.
They just stared at the castle though, "This is Hogwarts? Its a heap," Gregory commented incredulously. Looking upon what he saw to be a crumbling and indistinct structure with warning signs plastered across it in multiple languages.
Minerva frowned at the insult, "What you see is simply an illusion, just a facet of the castle's defenses, nothing more, nothing less." She directed an arm toward the castle, "If you would please quicky follow me, I wont be able to open the gates without the keys if it closes."
Jean and Gregory shared a silent glance then followed Minerva through the gates and onto the grounds, moments later the gate clanged together again. After several minutes of walking up a cobblestone path toward what appeared to be a crumbling castle Jean was settled enough to ask the question. "What happened to her?"
Minerva didn't look back at them and kept walking ahead, she was just beginning to feel so tired now. "I am unsure on the exact details but wo nights ago, during the Halloween Feast a troll was able to enter the castle." She bit her lip harshly, "How is still being investigated, at the time the staff was notified all of the student body was in the great hall," she paused and bit her lip even harder, "at least that was what we thought at the time. As the beast was reported to have been contained to the dungeons we evacuated the students to their dorms and the staff went to hunt it down."
They were making a faster pace now as the cobblestone path had turned to a smooth surface of wide stone tiles, Jean looked up at the ruined castle as it loomed overhead. Getting closer as they approached, "On the thirty first!" Jean Exclaimed in outrage, "That was two days ago and what exactly was my daughter doing, if she was not at the feast," she asked harshly.
Minerva bit her lip again, this time drawing a bit of blood. She was in a girls lavatory on the first floor as to why I am not sure, but I assure you I will find out why and actions will be taken." She swallowed, "Unfortunately it was the same lavatory that me and a colleague encountered and killed the troll. During the fight however he was wounded and as we hadn't known any students were out in I focused my attentions on him." Minerva turned and met the gaze of Jean as they stepped into the clocktower courtyard, "It was only when I returned to Gryffindor tower and called roll that I found she was not among those from the feast." She flicked her wand and the great doors spread without a whisper or creak and she led the Grangers inside. "As for why you were not notified until now was to prevent the possibility of you interfering during her treatment."
As they turned down a corridor Jean forced her attention away from the now pristine castle and back to the Professor, "I see and how is she?"
Minerva turned and led them down the last hall toward the hospital wing and infirmary, "Poppy, our schools matron, tells me Hermione is in a stable condition. But he is being kept asleep though while she is healing."
"A matron," Gregory asked and scoffed, "why the hell wasn't our daughter taken to a hospital."
Minerva shivered at the thought of Poppy hearing that but kept walking, "I assure you, Poppy Pomfrey is one of the most skilled medi witches I have ever had the pleasure to know. Infact she is often queried by , our hospital, on matters and received job offers monthly. As for why she wasnt taken , you will have to take it up with Professor Dumbledore, The Headmaster." Minerva stopped at a set of large double doors and faced the Grangers, "Please bear in mind when you see her that magic is capable of many things that muggle technology is incapable of. Where a debilitating injury may cripple in your world, in ours it can simply be an inconvenience." She pushed open the right hand door and pointed toward a bed with a divider covering the view from the door, "Thats Hermione's bed there and please stay quiet, she can wake up but the spells she is under will put her back under."
Minerva stepped aside as Jean and Gregory rushed through the door toward their daughters bedside, she conjured a cushioned chair next to the door and fell into it heavily. Unfortunately she wasn't able to pass out before she heard Jean's slight scream of anguish and the bustling of Poppies quick feet.
November 1st,
Great Britain,
Hogwarts,
Hidden Chamber,
9:22 AM
Deep in hogwarts castle, in an area only one a great as his lord could access, he begged for forgiveness that he knew likely wouldn't come. Quirinus Quirrell pressed his nose even closer to the mildew coated floor, " I can only offer my deepest apologies for failing you yet again my lord, p- please forgive me." He couldn't see but he could feel it, his master, as his incorporeal form coursed through the air like a shark did water. Quirinus shivered whenever his master approached too closely, it was like the chill of an approaching dementor.
Excruciating pain surged through his body in an instant, its origin, an mark of onyx black on his forearm, one that had remained dormant for years until he had gone in search of his master that previous summer.
"Indeed you did fail me Quirinus, but is not a complete loss,"his Lord said to him. On this night we have learned the nature what obstructs us for now, but you have still failed me gravely." Another wave of agony had his body wracked with pain, "Due to your, rash, impulsive ineptitude you have put the old fool on his guard. What happened to that girl is not a thing that even he can cover up, despite being a mudblood."
Quirinus convulsed again on the stone, 'Why had he searched out his master, for this?' "Please my lord, have mercy, I had thought with the feast, that- that there wouldn't be anyone in the path of the troll."
"You thought," the disembodied Lord sent another taste of his agony into Quirrell's brand. "It is not your place to think, it is your place to do as I command and you failed that." The wraith examined the shaking form of his servant, his only servant truthfully, perhaps he had broken him, another form of punishment would be needed. As he circled his servants from his gaze was drawn to the impudent fools hairless scalp, uncovered by that ridiculous turban. 'Yes, that shall do nicely', Rejoice Quirinus, you no longer need to suffer, I have devised a new punishment, as well as a reward for your service."
"Th- thank you my lord, for your-," he screamed, Quirinus Quirrell screamed, his head, his very mind was on fire, ripping, changing, but through the pain he heard his master.
"Yes, Rejoice my servant, for you shall be my instrument and I will be the hand that guides it."
And to his horror he stood, not of his own volition, but of his masters, with a flick of his wand two mirrors were conjured before and behind him. Deep in the dark recesses of his mind he wondered why he had searched out his master, for there in the mirror behind him. Not a reflection of his head, but that of his masters own visage. His Lord, Voldemort.
November 1st,
Great Britain,
Hogwarts,
Infirmary,
9:42 AM
'Light and scratchy, but not particularly thin, sheets and the permeating scent of, what was that', Hermione thought, it smelled so familiar. 'Ah, yes of course now she recognised it, it was the citrus based cleaning potion that Madam Pomfrey used to try and mask, only partially successful, the various and sundry smells caused by potions and spilled sick', that and the faint scent of vomit that bled through the cleaner brought up an image of the hospital wing to her mind.
The scent of the cleaning potion had stuck in her mind because it had been one of the few that Neville had not been able to mess up, and it had made the potions dungeon smell good for a week.
So it took little difficulty for her to deduce where she was. 'Why would I in the hospital wing', she wondered, 'why in the world would I be here, did I have an accident'? Hermione extended her legs curling her toes and stretching her arms out, 'everything feels fine', she thought.
Then another scent registered, her thought process was slow and the smell was faint and a bit stale so it hadn't registered immediately, she was getting tired. It was like her head was filled with Toffee but she was sure the smell was of her mother's perfume, mixing in with the citrus based cleaner and almost masking it.
She gradually opened her eyes, breaking apart a layer of eye crust in the process to peer out through blurry vision.
She was just barely able to open them enough to see her parents at the end of her bed, but not hear she noticed. 'A charm must have been used to keep her from hearing she thought groggily'. But though she may have been unable to hear them her parents posture and faces were very telling. Her mother was tensed like a cat about to strike her face livid and her father was visibly enraged.
He was leaning forward, muscles in his neck taught, fists clenched and was yelling at an old man who looked fairly flustered with a red face, long beard and absolutely horrid Feucha robes, he looked really familiar but she it kept slipping from her mental grasp.
It wa getting harder to keep her eyes cracked now, her thoughts were getting slower and it was getting difficult to process what she was seeing, so tired.
But she noticed now that her father was probably more in the range of screaming, if the redness of face and the bulging veins in his neck was any indication and from the whiteness if her mothers pale clenched fist was any indication she looked ready to clock the older man in the face.
Hermione was instantly reminded of a time when she was little of a foreigner pervert who had gotten handy, her mother had put it, on the Underground during a trip. She remembered that they had been going to London to pick up some new books for her light reading. The memory had stuck because it had been the first time she had seen her usually calm and composed mother truly furious and enraged, so nevertheless at her young age the image had stuck. She had knocked him silly using a quick right hook, her knee and several extra sharp kicks until a bobby could arrive, leaving him a gasping mess on the train floor.
Her mother had taken her aside after that and explained why she had done that but the image of her mother as she had been at that time always stuck.
Now though, now her mother looked even more angry, but she was so tired, and against her will and effort her eyelids closed tight, her mind slipping back into the grasp of Morpheus.
\-/
(-}{XxOxX}{-)
/-\
The man known as Dumbledore stroked his beard and smiled genialy at the muggle yelling at him, unfortunately this only seemed to make him angrier. So he shifted from a genial expression to a somber one, internally he smiled as that did the trick. Now the muggle was only yelling as loud as he had been when he had started. Dumbledore passively analysed the man while trying to figure a way to fix the mess this massive cluster fick had become, how was he to have known Tom would do something like realease a Mountain Troll into the castle.
Suddenly he stopped mentally multitasking as he felt a pulsing warmth from his breast pocket.
He grimaced and nodded his head slightly, "Mr and , I understand what you are feeling I assure you but at this time I have another very urgent and important matter to attend to to. I am sure dear Poppy would be able to answer any questions you have." Seeing that they were getting angry again he just decided to abuse his privilege to apparate inside the castle grounds and just popped into his office. Quickly he strode over to a dedicated shelf of instruments and extracted two devices, one a sphere of ruby glass with wispy silver smoke, this one he had to detach from another. The second was a set of prongs that extended from the bastardized remains of a muggle typewriter, he grimaced as he always did when he even glimpsed it, crude and unrefined as it was. It worked though and that was all that mattered.
The keys of the device clicked and clacked as it translated the information the sphere contained into readable information. The device dinged, a happy sounding sound that he would have to fix later and spat out a bit of parchment. "Hopefully this one won't be above the bloody ocean, Fawkes," he looked around for the bird but didn't so it. Dumbledore grumbled and summoned his broom and the potter invisibility cloak from his living quarters. Checking the coordinates he donned the cloak and departed with a crack of air.
November 1st,
Location Unknown,
Rett Pil,
Port Side Railing,
4:39 PM
As it had turned out they had to wait for quite a while, quite a few hours in fact, long enough that Shen and Dimitry had re-emerged from the ship and decided to hang out with Veno and him while they shot the shit and waited for the last ride. So by the nearly literal end of the day when the dinghy did get back to the ship with half a dozen nockered crewman there simply wasn't enough time to even bother going to shore. What he had gathered from the brief interrogation Dimitry had performed on the group was that Olof had accidentally dropped the key into the drink. It was only an unlucky fisherman catching flounder nearby that had saved them from swimming back to the ship. It seemed when he had gutted the fish he had found their key, it had only been the simple matter of walking over to the drunk lot of them and return it.
Hadrian just glared at the slumped form of Olof, "I think I will call you Olof The Idiot from now on." A drunken grunt and snort was his only response.
"Ah boy, no need to be mean." Shen nudged the inert form of Andor to roll him onto his belly, "That what PA system and old pans are for." He turned and opened up the hatch that led into the ships interior, "Now come assistant, let us make a delicious meal that these drunkards will not be able to enjoy. I am thinking curry, found some excellent spices in market this morning."
Handrian simply nodded, his irritation at not being able to go to shore already set aside and followed Shen through the hatch.
Veno looked around at the sprawled mass of stupidity and drunkenness, he just shook his head and snorted. "No gorram way i'm dealing with this shit," he said and headed inside, the guys on shift could fix this mess when they pulled up the dinghy.
November 2nd,
Great Britain,
Hogwarts,
Headmasters office,
2:29 PM.
Dumbledore roughly threw the Potter invisibility cloak into his chair, "Another dead end, why can that stupid child just find a single place and stay put!" Dumbledore jerked back sudden ball of flame over his desk signified the arrival of Fawkes, from wherever he had been. But as soon as the bird had appeared he was gone and on his desk was a sphere of bright silver. His curiosity gaining the better of him he leaned in close to examine the object, at close examination he saw it wasn't a perfect sphere. Indeed, six legs held the sphere in place, a bit like an inverted crown.
The man known as Dumbledore was about to cast several charms to determine the nature of the object when the spheres surface split and the protrusions that had been supporting the object stretched, becoming long spindly legs. The surface of the object rippled and the sphere re-solidified as six long legs protruded from the object, Dumbledore now saw it looked more like a spider. There was a memory though in the back of his mind, like he should recognise this. With a quickness that made it seem real the spider like object ran down his desk and up onto a guest chair where it sat for a moment until the sphere began to glow golden and a ghostly image of a seated man was projected into being. The man known as Dumbledore scowled at the image of the one man he had no desire to see at the moment.
"The Life and Lies, the man Known as Albus Dumbledore, an apt title don't you think", Flamel asked, "I'm thinking of making a series of them, I believe the next one will be on Rasputin."
"It seemed apt enough, it took me a while to figure out something that would make you heed what I say.
"You obviously dont care about your self, but you did care about my student, to the point of trying to become him in your grief, a sort of penance I would presume. But needn't, worry about this being released until your death though, you have your uses and whether I like to admit it or not you have done good things".
"So this is it, your final chance at redemption, this book I am writing can go several ways, some that would bring ruin, some that would bring hope". "It is your actions until you die that will write how this book ends, it will be your final legacy, try not to waste it. I will be monitoring your actions closely."
Translations
(I am using google translate for much of this so as many know it does not have the most stellar reputation of being correct. If the translations are so badly incorrect I would appreciate it and will add it in during the next story wide update (When I can get it beta read or read it with fresh eyes), thank you.)
Open to me Hogwarts, as the master of the house of the lion, I command it: Latin :Aperite mihi Hoguartensis magistrum domus leo iubeo
Cluster f#ck: German :Cluster fick
How about you kiss my ass!: French: Que diriez-vous embrasser mon cul!
Gorram : Firefly : God damn (At least this is what I assume it is)
there were also several references to one of my favorite authors, Scott sigler in this chapter. E-Cookies to those who can spot them.
Response To the Guest review (that I cannot respond to with a PM and am forced to add to the word count with filler),
Points of contention and agreement.
Yes it is a bit slow on the magic aspect at the moment but that will be picking up in the next several chapters. I didn't have much in the these last chapters becasue I had no interest in rehashing the magic of Britain. If you havent figured it out I am trying to create a more expansive world that isnt solely in The Magical World (Of Britain).
As to hermione being just as unknowingly bigoted as the others such as malfoy or Ronald (In canon) people are just like that. If you go on vacation or travel to another country without having much time to do reaserch on the customs then what do you think the odd's are that you will offend someone. (Example, ("That looks like shit on a stick," Foreigner to local. "That is my Peking Duck asshole!" Local to ignorant foreigner.
Ultimately I am not really sure what this reveiw was supposed to be about but this response will be deleted in a chapter or two so it isnt being counted as padding for my word count.
And P.S. Thanks for the review but I am fairly sure you didnt bother to read the initial authors note. In the future please be relevant and not make assu
KiDz
Authors note, (and yeah this AN is a total mess, I know)
Whew, a solid week (And a half, it seems I didnt add the chapter to the strory (oops) of editing and writing and now here we are. The first five chapters have now been alpha edited and wont be touched until either I can hand them to a Beta reader or I write a better transition scene for chapter 4 and the All Hallows Eve scenes.
And now to the other news, I have decided to switch from one chapter a week updates to one chapter per two week updates. Yes I know I already switched the update system once but there are several reasons, benefits and exclusions to this decision though..
1st is that durring the edditing week I realized that I wouldnt have had to do this if I had spent a little more time one them.
2nd is that I haddnt realized it but I have already gone through my outlined chapter stockpile. This is the one that has the chapters contents but not what makes it a chapter, Like sentances and the like. This longer release period will also allow me to work ahead.
3rd reason is that I am going back to work.
1st Benefit is that there will be longer chapters that hopefully wont need editing later on down the line.
2nd Benefit is that I am going to start publishing background info, Ive got It pretty much figured out and set up. there will be several (At most 3) background fics, 1 I have already mostly writen and ready to be published in its entirety but am waiting until I write and publish the chapters they relate to so they will be published in conjunction.
The other two are kinda like encyclopedias of background Canon for my HP fic universe I have come up with (there will also be a template on my homepage that can be filled out and PM'd to me so It can be published as a chapter with your name on it) the idea is that I have the background data already writen but only a portion of it will be published in Fakes and Frauds so I may as well use publish it so others could make use of it.
Think of these three like if they were codex entries from mass effect (hint hint).
The exclusions to this decision is when shorter chapters are involved, I know the feeling of waiting for an update and getting a dinky little thing so instead of publishing one short chapter two weeks after a long chapter I would publish the short chapter a week later after the long one and either release another short one another week after that or a long one 2 weeks after. Does that make sense?
But in short the main purpose is to bring my surplus of chapters back up to snuff, plan out future chapter, and rough out the period between the 2nd and 7th years. I have a ton of scenes between those years and after but there need to be more than just scenes to make a chapter. The pace I was writing at was also personally unsustainable.
I will also be posting a bunch of status stuff on my Page about the Fakes and Frauds as well as stuff about the side stories and the first side story should be in either today or tomorrow.
Hope you understand readers.
KiDz
P.S. Keen eyes may notice something about hadrians Scenes. Its something I just realized myself and will be going back and fixing it. Its very minor and I doubt many will notice it.
(Old) Authors note,
Thought that this chapter went pretty smoothly, I decided to add in a translation section and thats about it and there may not be a sixth chapter next friday as I am going to do some touchup work on the first four chapters. However, that doesnt mean the chapter wont happen on friday, the skelton and most of the meat is on it, but its kind of a jumbled mess of old scenes that are a bit out of date after writing the first four (Think a half born Man Bear Pig). It just all depends on how smoothly I can write it without forcing it and making it flow bad (one of the things im gonna try to fix in the edit. That and I am going to be further framing out my unfinished chapters. Cant really think of much more to say, soooooooooooooooo, Peace out.
KiDz
Oh and I am looking around for a Beta but it would be nice to get some input about areas I could use work in, it'd be helpful during my edits this next week, thanks.