Warning for pseudoscience. :) Also, potentially negative presentations of any country are not intended to be offensive or indicative of probable action.
And yeah, ff.n does not seem to like .doc files right now. Hmm.
Earth
Mike guided him through the streets, back past the shuttle station, to an area of denser, shorter buildings. Harry gathered that this was where his bodyguard was from, based on how familiar the man was with the place. It was also even more crowded. Mike walked a half-step in front of him, one hand wrapped securely around his arm from the train to the underground restaurant that was their destination just to make sure Harry didn't get separated from him.
The restaurant itself was quite nice, if tired-looking. The floor rippled underfoot as if they were walking on water. Once sitting at a high, curved booth - it really cut down on the noise of other patrons - Harry could see from the side that the ripple effect was fake but the water underneath the floor was real. Mike actually cracked a grin when Harry discovered that the tabletop was interactive, showing options of all meals and drinks which were ordered by tapping on them. Once paid for - by pressing his watch against the table in a certain place - the glossy screen changed to a silent stream of four different tv channels which were all captioned and could be changed with a flick of a finger, along with a scrolling list of time-passing games.
The food, when it came, hadn't been Hogwarts standard by a long shot. But, it had been solid and had multiple textures and flavours and that was more than good enough for him.
Then it had been back to the apartment, where Harry lavished attention on his slightly-less-sickly pot plants before retreating to his room to get away from the expanse of pollution-decay-grey outside his study window. (And, maybe, to put off his studies too.)
Now he was in his room, kneeling before the box marked 'potions'. He took the lid off for the first time and found a letter resting atop a mass of tiny glass rectangles. He picked the letter up with one hand and a glass box - about the size of his thumbnail - with the other. The letter almost immediately began to feel drier under his fingertips and the glass box abruptly expanded until it disappeared with a sharp popping sound, dumping a mass of black leaves onto his lap.
Frowning at them, he opened the letter.
For the notice of Harry Potter, last scion of Wizardkind.
Held within this case are samples from every magical plant and animal contained within our realm.
These have been collected by the remaining members of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in conjunction with the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
It is our hope that when the time of magic has come again, you will be able to restore these lost species. To aid you in this endeavour, we have added instructional materials to your primary repository.
Do not remove the individual cases until you have use for them. Doing so will cancel the enchantments upon them.
'Oops', Harry thought, looking down at the mess of leaves on his lap.
"Hey, uh, Harry?"
Harry glanced up and over to his window, where a small screen displaying Mike's face had popped up.
"You might wanna check this out." As he spoke, another screen popped open and enlarged. It was one of many news channels - but this one was displaying a long lock of hair which was slowly changing colours.
"Oh... crud." Harry mumbled. Reflexively, part of him was trying to freak out about magic being exposed. Part of him was a little concerned that the RDA would be shirty with him for the same reason but hey - they hadn't told him not to go around telling people.
Mostly he was just nervous about how it'd be received. Would this be 'heir of Slytherin' all over again?
He stood, brushing off the leaves (he did feel a bit guilty about that, but he was pretty sure they were from a Devil's Snare anyway, so no great loss) and exited into the living room.
Mike was standing beside the tv so Harry leant against the back of the couch to continue watching the broadcast.
"So far we've had volunteers from six separate scientific institutes and research facilities test the sample and all have confirmed that the phenomenon seems to be genuine, even if the cause of it remains elusive."
A woman with more metal in her face than skin was speaking as she manipulated the lock of hair between her fingers. Harry could only guess it was like the old 'look, no wires!' gesture that Muggle magicians used to use, to try and prove their tricks were real. Along both the bottom and the top of the screen, four thin rows of text in different languages were scrolling updates and reminders. Judging by the English row, they were almost all about him.
"Although several theories have been offered - from a new, smaller form of nanite to heat/light-reactive chemicals - all have been disproved almost immediately. Doctor Robert McKenzie of Progressive University is the first to put forward the theory that there may be some truth to the claim of 'magic' being the cause."
The image cut to a man with a closely shaved head and a deep dent in his skull.
"What is magic, after all, but the name we give to processes and events that we cannot yet categorise scientifically? It's been a long-held theory that all of matter is essentially energy in one form or another. If this theory is true, then what has been done here could simply be a manipulation of the energy contained within the hair - or an application of very specific energy. The report - unverified - stated that the young man responsible caused this change by merely touching the girl. By classical definition if nothing else, that could be termed 'magic'."
The image cut back to the woman with too-much metal.
"The RDA has so far declined to comment on the claim that the person responsible is none other than their legal ward and so-called 'King Arthur', Harry Potter. The claim is certainly difficult to dismiss, however, when considered in light of the young man's equally inexplicable and infamous awakening from a century and a half of sleep."
The image changed again and Harry blanched to see himself there. It was a shot of him sleeping in the hospital, black hair and lashes stark against the white of his bed and skin. He looked almost like a corpse, with only the slightest tinge of pink to his lips and barest movement of his chest to prove that he still lived. As he watched, however, the pink spread out and his eyes scrunched as he woke up. A deep, sudden breath and his eyes opened to reveal green orbs that almost immediately radiated despair.
Thankfully, the image cut back to the woman.
"We've just had word that all samples of this strange effect appear to be experiencing a simultaneous change in timing." The woman held the hair forward, a camera cutting to it obediently. The colours, which had previously been changing every half second, were now visibly changing more slowly.
Harry frowned. That wasn't right. The rainbow charm normally lasted for at least a week unless it was canceled...
Oh.
Of course.
He had accounted for the state of the world when he'd cast the charm. He'd purposefully drawn the magic for the spell only from his own energy and not from the world around him or the core within him. For such a small piece of magic, it had been enough.
Enough to take hold. But he hadn't accounted for the world's ambient magic being related to a spell's longevity.
"Some early speculations are that it's an indication of the phenomenon coming to an end, or that the effect is being remote controlled in some way. Only time will tell.
For now, researchers around the country will be scrambling to solve this 'magical' puzzle."
"Mute." Harry called wearily, as the woman turned to other topics.
Mike, still standing by the screen, turned to look at him.
"I hope you have a plan, boss."
Harry snorted and climbed over the back of the couch to sit on it cross-legged.
"Only in the vaguest sense." He confessed. "Mr Maine thinks the world is past fixing - and doesn't care. He wants me to focus on science stuff and maybe be helpful that way, but... it would take years - decades - before I got to the level where I could maybe keep up with all the scientists today. I'm no brainiac."
"From the context, I'll assume that means 'really smart'."
"Yeah. And, more than that, I'm just one person. It would be impossible for me to research everything, think of everything. But, if the knowledge of magic is out there... if several billion people are thinking about it..."
Mike rubbed his nose and sighed.
"Yeah, I get it. But boss... Potter. Harry. Several billion people knowing puts you in more danger. The RDA are smart enough to know that dissecting you ain't gonna achieve anything, but others won't be. Not to mention the fanatics who will seize your ability as some kind of divine gift they want a piece of. You can be killed just as easily by worshippers as murderers."
Harry grimaced. "I don't want worshippers." He said sourly. "And it would be stupid to worship me. You saw that charm slowing down... less than a day and it's already running out of power. I'm basically useless."
Mike's face darkened and he crossed to Harry in two strides, sank to one knee before him and gripped his upper arms, hard.
"Harry, listen to me. Reality doesn't mean jack shit to some people. You need to always be careful, always be aware that not everyone thinks the way you do. I promise you, right now, there is someone in this country - maybe even this city - already planning to kill you."
Harry swallowed.
"Oh." He said, voice small. He lowered his eyes, breathing out his guilt. Mike seemed convinced that an attack on him was inevitable... and if it were, then Harry had just put his bodyguard at increased risk.
"I'm sorry." He said honestly, looking up to catch his guard's eye. "I didn't mean to put us in danger. More danger. I just..."
Mike snorted and let go.
"Yeah, I know. I was sixteen once too. And don't apologise - this is my job. I ain't worried for me, kid. I'm worried for you. All it takes is me not being fast enough - or already down - and you're defenceless."
Harry looked down again, this time because he didn't know what to say. He'd had guards before, but... they'd never been quite like Mike.
A sudden chirping sounded and Harry looked up at the tv screen and then around to the kitchen to see what was making the noise.
Mike chuckled and got to his feet.
"It's your watch, boss. Give a yell if you need anything."
Harry sheepishly smiled and tapped at the face of his watch, which was flashing as well as chirping. He lifted his finger to his ear just as Mike entered his bedroom to give him some privacy.
"Hey, Harry?"
Harry lay back on his sofa.
"Hey, Dave. I guess you saw, huh?"
Earth
Whatever Harry had been expecting - enraged CEO of the RDA, manhunts, calls for bringing back witch-burning - it didn't quite turn out that way.
David had mostly been annoyed that he hadn't even called to let him know what he'd done. As Harry's liaison/case worker, it was his job to be on top of all PR stuff and he didn't like being caught off guard when the press came knocking. The press themselves seemed to mostly be viewing the incident in a positive light. Within a couple of days the sample of hair had stopped changing colour entirely and no scientist had discovered how it was done although a couple claimed to have been able to detect extremely minor radiation from the strands given to them for study. Since the amount of radiation they claimed to have detected could also be found in practically everything, they were generally ignored.
Harry had wondered aloud why Buddy had gone to the press so quickly and Mike had been blunt with his answer.
"Because they ain't got nothin' else. The reason I wanted you to be careful was because they were street kids. You never know when one of them will be stupid enough - or desperate enough - to try something."
Harry turned to look at him. Once again he was sprawled out on the couch and Mike was taking up the other, slightly smaller one.
"...How did you know they were street kids? And do you mean that literally? They live on the streets?"
Mike shrugged. "Yeah, of course. Nowhere else for 'em. And you can generally spot a street kid by the fact that they ain't washed in too long... and of course, they didn't have no masks either."
Harry frowned, remembering. He hadn't really noticed it at the time because to him, not wearing a mask was still normal, but... Wait, did that mean?
"Was that why Buddy sounded like... you know?"
"Yeah." Mike sounded sympathetic. "It happens, when you're exposed too much. You get sick and die eventually, but the first thing to go is the throat and lungs. His vocal chords are probably deteriorating. I've heard worse, and younger, though."
Harry stared.
"And that's just... normal?" He asked weakly. "There's no... government-provided health-care, or free masks, or-or shelter or anything?"
Mike shot him a weary smile.
"Your time must've been nice, boss. That kinda stuff hasn't been seen here for so long that almost nobody even thinks it should be. Besides, you know. Overpopulation. Over-crowded cities. High rates of crime and disease... a lot of people consider it natural selection. One small way of thinning the herd. That, and war, is all we've really got. I heard China selectively culled a third of their population once, but that's never been substantiated."
Harry made a sound of vague acknowledgement, looking around at his apartment. Here he was, lazing about in an expensive home provided for free, and people like Buddy and... Mia?... and little Boxy were out in the open with no more attention than people waiting impatiently for them to die.
And what was he doing, to be worth all this? Worth a bodyguard and media scrutiny?
Nothing really. Existing, maybe.
He sighed.
"I'mna get back to work." He said, levering himself up from the couch and walking downstairs to his study. As he did, he heard the weird blurt of music that heralded Mike receiving a call. Judging by the irritated sound he made, it was probably Madeline again.
The bulky eco activist woman had been hounding her old friend ever since the news had hit and she'd put together their meeting with the images of him in the hospital. She'd been sceptical at first but the unwise confirmation from an exasperated Mike had only added fuel to the fire. Now she seemed convinced that Harry could be the key to whatever they were planning and was demanding and pleading in turns for the man to set up a meeting ASAP.
Mike had refused, over and over again. Every time he got shorter, until eventually he just started declining her calls entirely.
"Goddamn Mad Cow." Harry heard him mutter, making him grin as he entered his study.
Earth
Education was a pain in the bum once it hit secondary. Especially the maths and English units. Science was still surprisingly all right - everything built on everything else and everything seemed to make sense. It was progressing slower than the primary level stuff, but at least it didn't fill him with frustrated rage like maths did.
The society and history units weren't bad either. Sometimes they were interesting and the computer showed him a lot of documentaries and movies. Sometimes it even had games for him to play, which supposedly taught him something, though he wasn't sure what.
Still, it was a lot of information to muddle through and Harry spent a lot of time walking circuits of his study or browsing his digital library of magic books or tending to his plants.
After several weeks of care, attention and probably too much water, they were looking downright lush. Harry supposed it was mostly thanks to not being outside in the pollutant-heavy air, but he liked to think some of it was down to him too.
He was just stroking one long, smooth, deep green leaf when the door to his study slid unexpectedly open. He jolted, the computer program recognising the interruption and pausing as well.
David smiled and knocked on the door frame.
"Sorry, it wasn't locked. May I?"
"Yeah, of course." Harry waved him over to the set of three one-seater couches. "Hub: Second view, please."
The entire window obediently switched to a full-screen, insanely high quality moving image of a massive stretch of hills and valleys. Long green grass and golden wheat rippled in slow, languorous waves. In the distance, a tiny village glowed under a bright sun. Puffy white clouds drifted over a deep blue sky.
It was a beautiful lie, and probably one that a lot of people had displayed on their window instead of the real view. Harry had been searching for something closer to the view from Gryffindor tower but hadn't found it yet.
He took the chair facing the liaison and lifted his eyebrows.
"Sick of it yet?" David asked sympathetically, though not quite able to hide his smile. 'It' being Harry's condensed education program. Harry rolled his eyes and slumped.
"Yes." He groused. "But, I can't... just..." He sighed. "I mean. I have to do something, or what's the point of being awake? What's the point of being alive? But... this 'getting an education' stuff... Merlin, Dave, it feels useless. Nothing I do with it will make a difference. But, what else is there to do, you know?"
"Well, since you asked..." David grinned. "And thanks for such a good opening, by the way."
He handed over several thin, plastic sheets. The disposable fliers of the future. Each one displayed a program for a different tv show - dates, guests, target demographic plus a whole host of information he didn't bother to look at.
"You... want me to join a live audience?" Harry asked doubtfully. He recognised one or two names. 'Mary Jane' - that was this time's Oprah. And 'On the couch with Brian Hicks' was like every late-night comedy talk show he'd ever overheard from his cupboard. The rest of them were just words to him. Some were glaringly neon and others were boringly black and white.
"Not exactly." David sat back and grinned. "Every show in your hand there has sent the RDA requests to have you on their show. As a guest."
Harry paused. The look he levelled at his liaison spoke volumes on how he felt about that.
David paled a bit. "Oh come on." He protested. "It's not that bad! And a lot of them are offering some pretty plump incentives."
"To be a bloody show pony?!" Harry exploded, leaping to his feet and letting the fliers scatter on the floor. "To sit there and smile and talk about how the world used to have a species that could do magic and oh, by the way, your species killed it? And that I want to help fix the mess you've made but I can't because I'm bloody useless?"
"You're not useless!" David objected. Harry barely heard him.
"Or is this some PR thing? Look everyone, the pet wizard of the RDA is still alive and breathing. Ask nicely and he'll perform some minor charm and then need to eat his weight in food to make up for it."
"Harry." David was exasperated now. "You're making too big a deal about this. The RDA doesn't give two bolts whether you go on a talk show or not. It's really kind of expected that you will sooner or later, if only to stave off boredom, but so long as you don't actively slander the company they have no interest in it."
Harry eyed him, then sat back down with a sigh. Glumly, he bent to collect the sheets of plastic.
"...I'm sorry." He said after a moment. "I guess I'm just..."
"Scared?" David offered. "You sound like it."
Harry glared. "I'm not scared." He argued weakly. "It's just... the only reason they want me is because of the magic thing, right? But I can't really do that anymore. So... the whole thing would just be a waste of time. And embarrassing. I'm not about to volunteer myself to be gawked at, either."
"Okay." David soothed. "Okay. Well, look, it's not like you have to go to any of them. But I gotta say, if you want to get your message out... there really isn't a better way."
Harry stilled.
"One run of news on a phenomenon that was over quickly, had no successful study done on it and the cause of which was hearsay does not a convincing argument make." David pressed softly. "And some of the fringe scientists have begun making noises that will only further discredit what you are and what you can do, the more people hear them. You've made it pretty plain to me, Mike and the RDA that you don't mind exposing what you can do if it helps fix the world."
Harry sighed, knowing what was coming.
"Sounds to me, Harry, that if you really mean that... it's time to step up and prove it."
He scowled. It felt like more of a pout. He lifted the sheaf of fliers to his face, flicking through them disinterestedly.
"...This Mary Jane woman seems nice." He said grudgingly.
"She is nice." David seemed relieved to roll with it. "I was going to suggest her. Decent following, a lot of positive regard and she tends to remind people about things she cares about. If you can convince her, you'll get a lot of payback for it."
"...I don't really know these others, though..." Harry dropped the fliers onto the coffee table. There were so many. No way was he going on all of them - if nothing else, he'd look like an egotistical twit.
"There's time to find out." David said easily. "I'll queue your hub to play all your offers on a custom channel. Let you see what kind of shows they run, what kind of guests they have and how they're treated. It'll help you shortlist them, at least."
Harry nodded, privately thinking that the list would be zero. Really, the only reason he was even considering Mary Jane was because of the association with Oprah.
"...What the hell would I even talk about?" He wondered bleakly. "How will I know what to say and when? I'm not exactly promoting a book or anything."
David laughed.
"You let Mary Jane handle that - it's her job to get a conversation going." He picked up his PDA and began tapping away. "And besides, you'll probably do a pre-interview first. It lets you both get comfortable and aware of what you'll probably be talking about. I'll send her your tag, too, and the two of you can chat all you want before even that."
"My tag?" Harry parroted, before remembering. This had been covered in one of his IT units. It was actually illegal now to have more than three 'tags'. One for work, one for personal use and one for miscellaneous.
"Oh, email. Right, right. My, um.. personal tag?" He really should check them, one of these days.
"Nah, RDA for now. Safer. I doubt Mary Jane would ever pass it on, but all it takes is her system being cut, you know?"
"Sure." Harry said blankly. Well, he'd wanted something to do, right?
"Oh, by the way... what do you know about the 'Global Liberation Front'?"
David looked up with a frown. "Them? Why do you.. never mind. The GLF, huh? Well, they're not as bad as some, but they're worse than others. They have a lot of smart people working in their R&D department but... well, they've got a lot of crazies too. The Weyerhaeuser bombing? That was them. Or, officially, it was a fringe group claiming affiliation with them, but really it was theirs. The problem is, they've got a lot of very dedicated people. And their leaders... they all think differently. They're smart enough to disavow association when people start dying, but everyone knows that they were involved at one point or another."
Harry thought about that, staring out over the fake landscape.
"...Do they do any good?"
David snorted.
"Hell yeah, they do. It's the only reason they haven't been shut down. Pretty much every advance in water and air filtration has come out of their labs. They were responsible for global food production meeting demand. They also increased efficiency of several major power sources right when the energy crisis hit, and they got a lot of good press for that. It's been dropping lately, though. People remember bombs more than they remember cheaper, reusable masks."
"Hmmm."
"Hey." David said suddenly, staring at the side of the window. No, not the window. The pot plant resting in the corner. "What the hell did you do to that thing? It looks great!"
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Well, I held one-sided conversations with it." He said wryly. "Added water. Nothing special."
"Really?" David asked admiringly. "Would you, uh... like some more?"
Harry sat up, a little surprised at how much he would, actually.
"Yes! Please. I mean, if it's not too expensive."
David waved a hand. "No, no. Nothing too bad. Especially if you don't mind nursing them back to health."
Harry nodded happily and David's gaze flickered from the plants to him and back before the man pushed himself to his feet.
"Well, I'd better get back to the office. You should probably do some research." He nodded at the plastic fliers with a conspiratorial smile. "It's a little more important than essay-dictating."
"But not any less painful." Harry joked absently, going more from his perception of daytime talk shows than any real experience. Most of his attention was wondering how soon he'd get the promised plants, followed by the thought of whether or not he could grow some magical plants if he let the RDA - or even the GLF labs - have the seeds. Maybe he could 'feed' magic plants what they couldn't absorb from the world?
Vaguely, he realised that David was gone and he called for the window to be reset to normal. Thick sunset met him so he scooped up the fliers and went to find some dinner.
Maybe he would agree to a meeting with Madeline.
Maybe they could help each other.
Earth