The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft six: Full Metal Magic
Main Universe: Harry Potter
Crossovers: Full Metal Panic
Timeframe: AU, age 1+
Last updated: 30th November 2009
Author's note: Major time-line fiddling required for this one. The goal is to place Harry and Sousuke Sagara within two years of each other. Even thought Full Metal Panic never really gave a date for their timeline, the tech level suggest they are in the mind-2000's in some areas, and twenty years further down the line in others. As Harry Potter is stated to take place in the early 90's, but never really shows much technology, there shouldn't be too much of an issue fiddling the timeline to make the two coincide. Maybe I'll just declare the Harry Potter universe to be moved up a decade or two – I've seen other authors do this when they have the characters use DVDs rather than videotape...
00000 year Two, Sorting Feast 00000
Harry's little Study group from last year had gathered at their traditional place- at the end of the Gryffindor table. However, there was no sight of Harry, and Professor McGonagall had started the Sorting ceremony about fifteen minutes ago.
She was just about to ask 'Lovegood, Luna' to come and sit on the chair when the large double doors banged open, revealing a Harry Potter putting his right foot back down on the ground, obviously having kicked the doors open.
As he strode in, it became obvious why, as his hands were holding on to a chain, which was attached to a chained up... something... struggling on the boy's back. He walked the length of the Great Hall, and snapped at attention before the Head Table. As he did so, he let go of his burden, letting it thump heavily on the slated floor. He saluted perfectly.
"My apologies, Sir, but I was detained," he said, shooting a small look at the struggling bundle on the floor. "This... creature... attempted to sabotage my return to Hogwarts, claiming it was dangerous to my health to return. As I perceived that to be a threat, I proceeded to activate my defences."
Here, he looked uncomfortable, and glared at the struggling creature. "It survived, consecutively, three claymore traps, a pitfall with poisonous spikes, and a spike trap snapping shut. Since it became obvious I could not kill it within the timeframe allotted, I proceeded to capture the creature, chained it up, and brought it with me." He looked back to the creature. "For interrogation."
The large bulbous eyes opened even larger, and it started frantically shaking its head, mumbling through the improvised gag keeping it silent. Harry kicked the creature in the ribs. "Silence. I will tell you when to speak."
"Perhaps you could release its gag, and allow us to know its identity?" Dumbledore asked, kindly.
Harry glared at the creature, a look that promised death and destruction to it should it say or do anything that did not stroke with what Harry had already said, and leaned down to release the gag.
"I... I is Dobby," Dobby muttered. "Dobby is good House-Elf! Dobby just wanting to help Harry Potter Sir! Harry Potter Sir in danger at Hogwarts! Harry potter Sir good master, knows how to punish like good master should. Dobby not sorry to have tried to help Harry Potter Sir! But Dobby is bad Dobby, going against his master. Dobby must punish self! Dobby will-" Dobby's stream of consciousness was cut off when Harry replaced the gag.
"Thank you, Mister Potter," Dumbledore said, sincerely. "Perhaps we can figure out more at a later time. Please take your seat."
"Not so fast!" someone screamed from the Slytherin table. "What are you doing with my House-Elf, halfblood!"
"Draco Malfoy," Harry identified out loud. "This is your saboteur?"
"What?" Draco asked, blinking.
"This creature attempted to sabotage my return to Hogwarts. Luckily, death threats are nothing new to me, but I am sure that anybody else would have been suitably impressed." He grabbed the loose chain, and walked back to the Gryffindor table, where his little group had saved him a spot. Dobby was dragged behind him.
"Release my Elf at once!" Malfoy blustered.
Harry looked at Dobby. "He your master?"
The trussed-up, gagged, dragged-across-the-floor House-Elf really looked as if it wanted to deny, but nodded reluctantly. "I see. Want me to release you?"
The creature looked hopeful, then sad. "You are mine by right of conquest," Harry then said, and looked at Malfoy. "Piss off." He walked to his seat, sat down, and released the chains. "Talk to Tilly, she's a House-Elf here at Hogwarts. She will tell you what to do. Wait until I need you. I will call, later tonight, and we will talk about your previous behaviour, and how to change it for the better."
Dobby got to its legs, obviously still a bit shaky. Finally, he seemed to come to his senses, and snapped a passable salute, similar to what he had seen harry do minutes earlier. Harry, startled, returned it. The elf vanished.
"My elf, you insolent bastard!" Malfoy raged. "I demand restitutions for my elf!"
"Your House-Elf attacked me. I have caught him. He is mine to do with as I please. And now sit down. Some people are waiting to be sorted, and others are waiting to eat. Some of us have not eaten in three days, and are quire hungry."
"But-"
Malfoy sat down when Harry pulled his Glock, and shot three stray hairs off Malfoy's scalp – right next to his right ear. The boy had felt the bullet pass by him.
"Next time, I will aim to the left. And I do not miss," Harry said. He looked at McGonagall. "My apologies for the interruption, Ma'am."
"Tha... That's alright," she muttered, and finally asked Lovegood, Luna to come and be sorted.
When even Snape remained silent at the sight of Harry slapping down Malfoy, the newly sorted students... and everybody else, release, knew where the real power in Hogwarts was lying now.
And it was firmly focused around Harry Potter, and his close study group from last year. None of them seemed surprised at what happened, nor of the various reactions. Many of them vowed to see if they could join Harry's study group. After all, it seemed that they were powerful, both magically and physically, as well as politically.
Harry's life would never be the same.
00000 New recruits and expansions 00000
Just how different became obvious a week later, as by some unspoken agreement, over four dozen students showed up, trying to join. Much to harry's, and everybody else's, surprise, not only first and second years were present, but even some upperclassmen were there, including Cho Chang, the Weasley Twins, and half of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Harry stared out over the hopeful applications, almost unable to hide his surprise – as well as his disdain at how much of his time this would take. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
He hardly had time to train himself with his present group, consisting out of Hermione and Neville and the others from last year. "No," he finally said. "I don't have the time for this. I hardly have time to train myself, let alone the others from last year."
Half the assembled students, practically filling up the library, started to mutter and turn away. "Harry, can't we organize something?" Hermione asked. "I mean, you've helped us all tremendously, it wouldn't be fair not to try and help the others, when they ask for it." The muttering students turned back to Harry; hopeful and silent once more.
Harry sighed. "We'll need to work things out, then," he said. "Fine. Those of last year, meet me at our training location in half an hour, we'll see if we can't organize this."
The next day, the entire group was back in the library, following a message from Harry.
"I think you will all be happy to hear that my people and I have managed to come up with a training schedule to will allow me the time to work everything out, our schedules, trainings, and keep enough free time to uphold my own, more rigorous, training schedule." He motioned to the 'old guard', those who had been with him last year. "Hermione and Neville will be your commanding officers. You will obey them before you obey yourself. When they tell you to jump, you will jump, as high and as far as you can, until they tell you to stop." His hand kept travelling. "The others are your drill sergeants. Their jobs will be to train you. As hard and as fast and as strong as they can make you, in as short an amount of time as possible."
He linked his hands behind his back, and walked around the muttering group. "This will not be easy. This will not be fun. You will curse my name, you will hate Hermione and Neville, and you will despise your drill sergeants. All of this will change when you do your first test, and realize that you no longer feel nervous because no mere test or exam can inspire the same kind of terror as you will experience very day. You will succeed beyond your wildest dreams because you will be pushed to your limits, gaining strength and speed and knowledge beyond your wildest dreams."
He completed his first circle, and stopped to face them. "In return, we all ask your unwavering dedication. Quitting is not allowed. Falling behind will not be tolerated. We will push you, and we will push you hard. We will teach you reserves you did not know you had, and then teach you to deplete them. We will make you tired, we will make you hungry, and we will exhaust you. And you will be as we are – at the top of your age group."
He motioned to the door. "This is your final chance. Leave now. If you do not, we will start your training, and we will hex you before we allow you to leave. Chose."
The entire group of students stared at Harry; nobody was able to believe the speech he had just delivered. Nobody left. Harry nodded grimly, and turned. "Ladies. Gentlemen. Your students. Evaluations are in two weeks, it's your job to separate the wheat from the chaff."
Those two weeks were the hardest two weeks any of the new recruits had ever lived through. While Harry separated himself for a few hours each day, trying to come up with how to organize the new group after 'basic training' had finished, it became a common sight to see Harry's original study group debate some interesting piece of magical theory, while the new recruits chewed their food mechanically, almost too exhausted to sit upright.
But there was no denying the results, as after only a few days there was a remarkable amelioration of the attitudes and abilities in the new recruits.
Well, all except for one.
The same Lovegood, Luna, whose Sorting had been postponed slightly because of Harry's unusual entrance, sorted into Gryffindor immediately after, had taken to the training as a fish took to water. She cheerfully went through the most gruelling exercises, she laughed at the rigorous physical exercise, and enjoyed the magical drills they were put through.
At first, everybody had made fun of her, had laughed and sneered at her. After only a few days, when the constant exhaustion started to wear down everybody else, that attitude had changed, and the other recruits now routinely went to Luna for help with some drill they had trouble with, or asking on tips on how to weather the physical exercises.
After the first week, Harry, along with Neville and Hermione, started to interview to prospective candidates, hopeful that the continuous stress would show them more of the students then they necessarily wanted to reveal under normal circumstances.
Nobody could doubt that the interview with a bright and cheerful Luna Lovegood was anything other than interesting.
"There is no such thing as a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!" Hermione shouted.
Harry shrugged. "There is no such thing as magic, either."
"We know magic is real!" Hermione protested.
"We do not know magic is real," Harry replied. "So far, I have not received a single piece of empirical evidence that magic is real. Simply because I wave a stick and mutter some words triggers a reaction does not mean it is magic. I do not know how the effects come to be, and nobody has explained the reasoning behind it to me. So far, I am taking on faith that waving my wand a certain way, and muttering the correct words, will trigger the correct response. I do not know the reason behind them. Just as I take spells and magic on faith, I can not dismiss out of hand that Luna's theories about different creatures and conspiracy theories are incorrect."
Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "But... But..."
"He has you there, Hermione," Neville said.
"But I can prove magic to you!" she finally blustered.
"Using magical mathematics," Harry answered. "I can invent my own mathematics and use it to prove that one plus one equals three. It does not mean anything unless it can be explained by simple physics." He took out his gun and slammed it down on the table. "A gun is simple. Squeezing the trigger forces the hammer to strike the percussion cap in the back of the cartridge, setting up a small explosion which launches the actual bullet out the barrel. Physics. Cause and effect. Prove to me using the same simple explanations that waving my wand and muttering words triggers the correct response."
Hermione blushed bright red, and hung her head. "Magic is belief," Harry finally said, holstering his gun. "As are Luna's creatures. And her theories. In fact, she may be the most knowledgeable of all of us. We must believe her."
Hermione said nothing further.
After the second week of training was over, Harry assembled everyone into the Room of Requirement, which, for the occasion, had been 'required' to turn into a large hall, rather than training grounds.
Looking at his assembled 'troops', Harry came to parade rest, hands linked behind his back.
"Gentlemen. Ladies. You have all succeeded beyond my wildest expectations. Your superior officers have told me that your conduct and your dedication has been commendable." He looked over his troops as he said so, his eyes coming to rest of the two redheaded Weasley Twins, the duo he had most expected trouble from.
Much to his, and everybody else's, surprise, they had conducted themselves well, and being driven to exhaustion had removed any chance they had of either playing pranks or back-talking. By the time they had a chance to think things over, they were already in too deep, and were already seeing the results.
How much difference two weeks made.
"As this group is too large to manage by myself, I have decided to organize us along the lines of a military unit. It will allow everybody with the maximum amount of spare time, while still driving ourselves upward. For, you have just completed a basic training course. We must now build you up to become real men and women, the same way I trained last year's group. And, at the same time, myself and the others must increase our own abilities as well. We are far from perfect, and will need to train ourselves to get better."
He took a small box, and attached some insignia to his uniform. A stylized M ornament was placed over his heart, on top of the embroiders Hogwarts patch. With a wave of his wand, a few insignia attached themselves to his sleeves, as well as to his shoulders.
"As commander of this group, I shall hold the rank of First Lieutenant," Harry said. "As my general staff, I will have the following commanding officers for the various groups to be selected from among you. For the Operational Division, Second Lieutenant Neville Longbottom."
Neville stepped forward, and Harry pinned the insignia to Neville's robes. With a small handshake and a congratulations, Harry indicated to Neville to stand behind him.
"For the Research and Development Division, Second Lieutenant Hermione Granger."
"For the Medical Division, Second Lieutenant Susan Bones."
Harry looked at his students. Most of them were no doubt expecting to be split up among the various divisions now. He was well aware this next decision may not go over so well; but then again, he was the commanding officer, and it was his right to make himself unpopular with the troops. "For the Magical Intelligence Department, Second Lieutenant Luna Lovegood."
The expected outbursts didn't come, although the blonde in question did look highly surprised as she stepped forward, as if unable to believe what she was hearing. As he had done with Hermione and Susan, Harry pinned the various insignia to Luna's robes, not at all caring that he was touching a girl's chest.
"Congratulations, Second Lieutenant," he said, holding out his hand. She grasped it with both hands.
"Thank you, Harry!"
Some laughter from in front and behind him. Harry shook his head. "You're supposed to call me 'Sir', now, Lieutenant."
Luna grinned. "Sorry, Sir!"
Harry shook his head. That was most definitely the most insolent 'sir' he had ever heard. She released his hand, and stepped to the others. He turned back to the others. If Luna's promotion didn't get a reaction, maybe the next one would.
"For the House-Elf auxiliary-" some gasps and blank looks. "Second Lieutenant Dobby."
Dobby popped in right next to Harry, dressed impeccably in a miniature Hogwarts uniform, although without the specific trim to denote him a member of a specific house. Over the last two weeks Harry had taken quite a bit of time to talk to the unusual House-Elf, training him, talking to him, explaining things to him and getting things explained in return.
With a House-Elf's unlimited amount of energy, training and physical fitness was not required, and with a House-Elf's innate sense of magic, magical training was not required either. Coupled to the fact that Dobby could pop anywhere in the castle at a moment's notice made this a no-brainer for Harry.
He knelt down to be on the same height as Dobby, and pinned the insignia to Dubby's Hogwarts uniform.
"Congratulations, Second Lieutenant," Harry said, holding out his hand. Dobby grasped it, practically weeping.
"Thank you so much, Sir. Dobby not let Sir down. Dobby will be bestest second lieu- leu- liet- officer Sir has!"
Harry smiled slightly. The poor elf had problems pronouncing the bigger English words, he'd have to remember that. "I'm sure you will." Dobby released the hand, and popped to the line where the other officers were waiting.
Harry went through the rest of the people. Those of last year became non-commissioned officers, Sergeant-Majors. The new recruits were all enlisted as Sergeant First Class, something Harry had decided to do to do away with the plethora of ranks in the regular armies around the world. He didn't want to create envy among his troops, he wanted to create unity and structure. If that meant doing away with a few ranks and 'promoting' his people faster than was strictly ethical, so be it.
After all, it was debatable whether they would ever need to go into combat, and this was still done primarily to get better results at school.
But the again, it never hurt to be prepared.
When he had pinned the last insignia to the chest and sleeves and shoulders of Angelina Johnson (and interesting experience for Harry, as she appeared far more 'squishy' than the other girls had been), Harry waved his wand, dropping the canvas behind him and his officers.
"Ladies. Gentlemen. Welcome to the Magical Organization for Soldier Schooling and Applied Defence, MOSSAD for short."
00000 Increasing training, thank you, Daenerys for the premise and you, Elijah for a solution 00000
"Harry?"
Harry looked up, sharply, from where he had been reading a book that would make most yellow pages weep with envy. "Hermione?" he asked, sharply aware that he was in the library, not the Room of Requirement, and she thus wasn't required to call him 'sir'.
"How long has it been since you've slept?" Harry blinked at her, not expecting that question.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Tt's nine thirty," she replied dubiously.
Harry sighed. For a genius, Hermione could be remarkably obtuse. "The day, Hermione. Days are important."
"You haven't slept for days?" she practically screeched, getting a sharp admonishment from Madam Pince, the librarian.
"Depends. What day is it?"
"Wednesday," Hermione finally answered the question on a droll tone of voice.
"Then, yes, it has been days since I've slept. Three, to be exact," Harry said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go through this book. It's getting harder and harder to train you, add touches to the MOSSAD, train myself, do the coursework, and show up for class each day. Food is important. I try to have at least one good meal each day. Sleep, less so."
"Harry, killing yourself isn't the point here," Hermione said, gently, sitting down at the table, facing Harry. "I know you want to make us better, but sometimes, less is more. You're trying to do too much."
"With that incompetent bastard as DADA professor, there's very little choice. Quirrell may have been an evil SOB, but at least he knew how to teach. All Lockhart teaches is about himself. So now it's my job to make sure you and the others in the MOSSAD don't get yourselves killed."
"That's the teacher's job, Harry. You shouldn't-" she stopped when Harry's flat hand hit the desk with a resounding slap, silencing even the silent mutters from the other tables.
"It damn well IS my responsibility, Hermione! It became my responsibility when I became the leader of our study-group, it became my responsibility when I took the command post of the MOSSAD, and it will be my responsibility for as long as you and the others remain in it. That's what being commanding officer means, Hermione. To be responsible for those under your command." He took the stack of parchments he had been writing on, slipped them on top of the open page in his tome, and slammed it shut. Lifting it under his arm without effort, he started to walk away. "And now I'm going to study in peace. Get some sleep, Hermione, you look beat as well. Good night."
"Yes, Sir," she said, quietly, after swallowing a few times. When she stood up to leave, she found those few students in the library, as well as the librarian, stare at her. "No matter what," she snapped, "Harry is and remains the best officer we can hope for, this just proves it." She lifted her head and walked out of the library, not sparing a single glance to the students or the librarian.
The next morning, Hermione was glad to see Harry at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, working his way through an enormous breakfast. Nobody bothered him, partly because of the air of unapproachability he had around him, and partly because his nose was still buried in that same book from last night.
"I thought you'd be through that book in one night," Hermione joked, sitting down opposite Harry, and drawing some breakfast to herself.
"Sorry for not being a super-genius, and sorry for the fact that my basic schooling... well, wasn't. I'm lucky I can read, write, and add," Harry replied levelly, looking up at her, before going back to his book.
"You can add, but not subtract, multiply, or divide?" Hermione asked with a small smile, hoping to lift his mood.
Harry looked up at her once more, and gave a tiny smile. "Why are you here, Hermione?" he finally asked, when it became clear they were just going to look at each other otherwise.
"I found a solution for your problem," Hermione said with a gallant shrug, then resumed her breakfast.
When it became clear she wasn't going to elaborate, Harry sighed. "And what problem have you found a solution to?"
"Your time-management problem," Hermione replied primly, and once again resumed eating.
"Don't make me pull rank, Hermione," Harry said, sounding annoyed again.
"Sorry, Sir," Hermione replied, smiling thinly. "The problem is that you're the only one with actual experience – and the only one who knows what he is talking about when it comes to training and such. Neville and I can take over for you, but only after we've been trained ourselves, and even then, we're only beginners trying to teach raw recruits. The solution – is the Room of Requirement."
"Oh?" Harry asked, putting down his quill, and looking at her. "And how does the Room solve the problem?"
"It's better if I showed you," Hermione said. "After breakfast?"
Harry looked at the other MOSSAD officers, saw no dissent, and nodded. "After breakfast." He slammed his book shut, and started eating in earnest. "Damn book is dry as a desert."
After breakfast, the entire cadre of the MOSSAd trooped to the seventh floor, where Hermione paced in front of the Room of Requirement, 'requiring' something else entirely.
The door appeared, an hourglass present on the door. "I got this idea from a manga I was reading." When she got a few blank looks, as well as startled gasps from others, hermione sighed. "Manga are japanese comic books, and yes, I do not spend all my time reading school books. Sometimes, a girl likes some down time." She drew a breath, and resumed, "this manga had something called a 'Hyperbolic Time Chamber'. Basically, one day outside means one year inside. You go in, and a year passes, while only a day passes on the outside. Just make sure you have plenty of food and other supplies."
"Interesting concept," Harry said. "I could train all of you up with two or three years at my disposal."
"Three years?" Hermione asked, suddenly not sounding so happy with herself. "I thought six months or so..."
"Six months is enough for me to teach you not to shoot yourselves in the foot. Or recognise the difference between ordinary grenades and thermite grenades. Or not to use Semtex for modelling clay. It is not enough for you to become good instructional cadre. Or myself, for that matter," Harry added with a sigh. "I need a lot of work myself."
Hermione let the door vanish. "Even a year will be noticeable. I mean, we're elven or twelve years old, we grow. If we were to be inside for a year, or two, or three, we'll physically continue to grow, and it'll be really apparent we're not eleven or twelve anymore."
Hermione started pacing again. The same door appeared, only the hourglass symbol had been replaced by an arithmantic equation that made Harry's head hurt. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to understand completely. She nodded.
"We will not physically age inside," she finally said, after giving the equation one more look-over. She opened the door, and looked inside. Smiling, she looked at her companions. "Plus, it's provided us with a military academy."
"Nice," Harry said with a grin. "You really are as smart as you are rumoured to be."
"Gee, thanks," Hermione said on a sarcastic tone, but still smiling widely at the compliment, taking the sting out of it. "How does Saturday sound? We'll go inside on saturday, come out on monday morning. That's two years right there. We'll take the other two years the weekend after that?"
Harry nodded. "It's decided, then." He turned. "And now, I am going to get a nice, full, four hours of sleep."
"Harry! What about classes?"
"Classes can wait," Harry muttered. "I need sleep first. Take notes for me, Hermione, I'll catch up later." With those words, Harry vanished around the corner.
"Even when we're not in the Room he orders me around," she muttered.
"All of us," Neville replied with a small smile. "I don't think Harry gets the difference completely." He shrugged. "But, I don't mind. I've never felt better."
Next Saturday, Harry walked up to the seventh floor, ready to begin a four-year stint at the Room of Requirement Military Academy. When he turned the corner, to his surprise, he found more than just his general staff.
"Sergeants Weasley," Harry greeted the Weasley Twins. "Your reason for being here?"
"Because we'll be joining you, of course!" the first twin – George, possibly, replied. Harry lifted an eyebrow.
"And you've decided this by yourselves?"
"Yup!" The two twins replied in unison.
Harry nodded. "The Academy will do you good. It will show you that there are things you do need to ask permission for," he said, stepping past them, not providing any more feedback and ignoring their grins. Much to Harry's surprise, those were not the only ones who decided to join in the fun, and by the time that they were to enter the Room's Military Academy, just about the entire MOSSAD had shown up.
Harry merely shook his head, turned, opened the door (as provided by Hermione), and led them all inside.
After that one weekend, and two subjective years of Military Academy training, the differences were blatantly obvious.
All of the MOSSAD members sat straight in their seats, quiet and attentive, taking copious notes and developing a wicked sharp attention to detail. The training wasn't as harsh as Harry had hoped it'd be, but overall, he was quite happy with the results.
At least his subordinates had finally learned to call him 'sir', and saluted at the necessary times.
Plus, he, himself, was learning a lot of things that had been omitted in his battlefield training, things he would need to know if he were to become a decent commanding officer.
As they sat down together, at the Gryffindor table, straight, silent, and eating first before engaging in quiet private talk, the entire Great Hall stared at them.
Never before had such a large group of students behaved in such a... mature... manner.
Dumbledore's eyes shifted to Harry. It was all because of him, Dumbledore was sure of it. The problem was, the boy was amassing an amazing amount of friends and power in a very short amount of time, and there was no way he could eject the boy now.
Not if he wanted his school intact, that is. The potential in Harry's friends had been skyrocketing, and it showed no signs of stopping. Dumbledore sighed, and looked at Severus Snape.
The Potions Master lifted an eyebrow, as if asking if he were interpreting the headmaster's look correctly. Dumbledore gave a surreptitious nod.
Snape looked back to the Gryffindor table, and met the eyes of one Harry Potter. As the Potions Master engaged in a staring contest, even if the whispered talks among the other MOSSAD members had dropped off, all of them locking their gaze upon Snape.
Severus Snape, the spy who could look Voldemort in the eye and lie his pants off, shuddered at the completely cold looks, devoid of any emotion, he received from an entire troop. Breaking eye contact and admitting defeat, eh glanced at Dumbledore and shook his head slightly. No, he wasn't going to do this.
00000 A couple of students get frozen 00000
"This is getting dangerous," Harry said, pacing the length of the Room of Requirement, where the entire MOSSAD had been called together. Hermione had cobbled together some nice communication spells and attached them to the M-badges they all wore, enabling them to speak to anyone – or everyone – with merely a tap on the badge. "Whatever it is – it is freezing students. From now on, everyone moves in at least a pair. The first one to be seen alone will be punished severely."
The MOSSAD nodded mutely. After all, there was not much they could do otherwise, was there?
"Lieutenant Granger, you will figure out what is causing this."
"Yes, Sir," Hermione replied, stiffening slightly as he addressed her.
"Lieutenant Longbottom, you will be her partner. Do not let her out of your sight."
"Yes, Sir," Neville replied, equally stiffening. "Sir? What about bathroom breaks?"
Harry glanced at him. "You are our best fighter, apart from me. This is no time to become squeamish, Lieutenant. I will partner with Lieutenant Lovegood. She, as our Magical Intelligence specialist, will be the second person trying to figure out what is happening."
Luna stiffened, and nodded. Four year of subjective Military Academy had shaped her mind.
00000 End of Year 0000
"It's a Basilisk," Hermione said. "I just couldn't figure it out – what would freeze people, but things finally came together. A Basilisk kills with its eyes, but if that stare is refracted – or reflected – it merely freezes people, rather than kill them."
"Can you find it?" Harry asked.
"I'll need a few minutes to calibrate a tracking spell, but it shouldn't be too hard," Hermione replied.
At that moment, the doors were thrown open, Lucius Malfoy angrily striding in. "Not good," Harry muttered.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, half a dozen students have been frozen under your watch, and now a young pureblood girl has been taken – probably into the Chamber of Secrets itself! On behalf of the Board of Governors of Hogwarts, backed by the Ministry of Magic, I must hereby ask you to leave, and this school will be closed immediately pending future investigations!"
Harry had a split second to make a decision. Hermione's tracking spell would lead them into the Chamber of Secrets, which would mean he had a chance to correct all of this. But, if the school were to be closed, that'd be difficult to do. On the other hand, the Headmaster had been getting on Harry's nerves more and more. It seemed that the old man was playing a game, a game with Harry as its stakes.
Finally, he stood up. "Headmaster Dumbledore will not," Harry said. "MOSSAD. Secure this room."
A dozen students jumped up, pointing wands. Harry tapped his badge. "Potter to every MOSSAD member – we have identified the assailant. Order to pair up has been rescinded, and make your way to the Great Hall immediately. We are securing the Great Hall until the threat has been eliminated." He tapped it again to close the channel.
"Lieutenants Granger and Longbottom, you're with me. The rest of you, keep this room secured. Nobody leaves."
"Yes, Sir!" Susan said, straightening her back, assuming the command with grace and poise that could only be instilled in the finest Military Academies.
"So, Mister Potter thinks he can take over, does he?" Malfoy Senior drawled.
"I know I can take over," Harry replied. "Stand down before I have you shot."
Malfoy's sneer widened. "That's a mighty big threat you're making, Mister Potter. I hope you can back it up."
"I do," Harry said, inclining his head and turning to leave.
"Why are you doing this, Harry?" Dumbledore finally asked.
"It is the duty of every soldier to disobey on illegal orders. You are our superior officer. I do not agree with the verdict of this... item... to have you removed from command. Hence, I disobeyed his implied order to let you be taken and this school closed down. Sit down, Sir. You are under the protection of the MOSSAD now."
Dumbledore, shocked, sat down. Malfoy Senior, red with rage over being called an item, drew his wand.
And fell to the ground, screaming, when his wand-hand vanished into a ball of fire.
"What'd you know," Susan muttered. "I finally managed to cast a Hermione-Fireball."
"Congratulations, Lieutenant Bones," Harry said with a thin smile. "Good luck."
"You too, Sir."
As Harry left, with Hermione and Neville following him, he heard the elder Malfoy scream and threaten bloody murder, before it was cut off with an invocation from one of the Weasley Twins – an invocation he could hardly make out, but it sounded suspiciously like a full body bind.
One of Hermione's full body binds.
Which probably meant that only Hermione and Harry himself could ever remove it – seeing as the magic was still temperamental around the others.
As they raced away from the Great Hall, following Hermione's hastily-cast Basilisk-tracking spell, more and more members of the MOSSAD raced the other way. Harry nodded; the people in the Great Hall would soon be under complete lockdown.
He only hoped the adults wouldn't put up too much of a fuss – he was well aware of the fact that the MOSSAD, although trained incredibly well, were only teenagers who had yet to fire at another in anger.
They emerged into the girl's bathroom haunted by Myrtle. When the ghost was about to wail at them, Harry just glared in her direction. "Silence."
Shocked out of her mind, she obeyed.
"The spell tracks," Hermione said, pointing to one of the sinks.
"That sink never worked," Myrtle supplied, regardless of her order to be silent. Harry just nodded, and for a moment, it seemed as if the ghost sighed with relief.
"It's supposed to be Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets," Neville said. "Perhaps you can try ordering it to open up, Sir?"
Harry lifted an eyebrow in Neville's direction. "Open up," he told the sink, which refused to budge.
"I think Neville meant in Parseltongue, Sir?" Hermione said.
"I knew that," Harry said, acting as if he were just pulling their legs and trying to cover up his mistake. Whether he was successful, or his two subordinates just ignored it, he would never know.
"Open up," Harry snapped at the sink, which obeyed, this time.
"That still gives me the shivers," Neville muttered. When Harry looked at him, the boy straightened out. "Sir."
"That is one slimy pipe," Hermione muttered, probing the empty cavernous space with a lumos-spell from her wand. "It's definitely deep, and the tracking spell reports that the Basilisk is down there. And where it is, so should be who- or whatever took the Twins' little sister there."
They were still ignoring Ron, who was doing his very best not to be noticed any more. In fact, it looked as if he were about to repeat his second year, which would place him with his sister next year.
If she survived, of course, Harry's mind added. "I will take point. Hermione, behind me. Neville, cover our backs."
"One moment, Sir," Hermione interrupted. "A Basilisk kills by looking into your eyes. With your permission, I will charm your glasses to protect you. Neville and I don't have such glasses, it'd be best if we weren't to enter the Chamber itself."
Harry nodded, picked his glasses off his nose, and handed them to Hermione, who immediately started casting. Thirty seconds later, he was handed his glasses back, completely repaired, free from the e-inevitable scratched they had accumulated, free of the tape used to stick them together, in perfect condition and shining better than he had ever seen them shine.
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said, drawing a breath and his wand, and casting lumos before jumping into the hole.
When they finally emerged from the pipe, Harry guessed they were halfway under the lake. "Good location," Harry said. "Tactically sound, strategically hidden." He put a hand against the wet walls. "This is solid bedrock. This place could survive an airstrike, probably."
"Especially if this tunnel has existed for a thousand years," Hermione added in.
"That is one big snake," Neville muttered as their combined lumos spells stopped at a gigantic, shed, basilisk skin. Poisonous green and twenty foot long, it looked like a sleeping snake.
"Looks tasty, too," Harry replied levelly. Both Neville and Hermione locked their gazes, and shuddered together. They vividly remembered the one 'duel' between Harry and Draco Malfoy. Malfoy had conjured a snake – Harry had ordered it about, then grabbed it, bit its head off, and proclaimed it 'Lunch'.
Half the students had lost theirs right there and then.
On the other hand, nobody dared call him on his parseltongue abilities.
They followed the tunnel, creeping first this way then that way, before arriving before a solid wall, craved with two entwined serpents, their eyes glistening with inset emeralds.
"Pretty, if it weren't so scary," Neville muttered.
"I think this is where we part company. Neville, you're in charge. Hermione, great work on the spells. Keep each other alive while I'm gone," Harry said, turning to the serpents, and hissing open, at them.
Harry ignored the creepy atmosphere in the chamber itself, walking deeper into the dimly-lit chamber. If he hadn't had to fight for his life since an early age, Harry would probably be terrified. As it was, he was only on a heightened sense of alert, and welcomed the feeling of adrenaline like an old friend, one had had missed sorely.
The thrill of battle, it was something he hadn't felt since coming to Hogwarts and parting ways with his brother, and it was something he was almost looking forward to feeling once more.
If only his life wasn't at stake.
After all, he only had one, and he was quite fond of it.
"Ginny," he muttered when he knelt to one knee next to the small girlish figure, face-down, between the feet of what he assumed was a giant statue of Slytherin himself. Aware of battlefield protocol of not moving an injured person until a medic had cleared it, he slid his fingers to her neck.
She had a pulse.
"Ginny," he tried, gently patting her back. "Wake up."
"She won't wake," a soft voice said.
Dammit, AGAIN! Harry's mental voice screamed as he rolled away, ending with him on his belly with his wand pointed in the direction of the voice. "Who the FUCK are you!"
"Tom Riddle," the figure replied, almost seeming amused at Harry's response, and question.
"That's who. Now, WHAT the fuck are you?"
Tom lifted an eyebrow, and this time, an amused little smile was definitely visible on his face. "I am a memory, preserved in a diary for fifty years."
As he pointed to a little black book next to one of the giant feet, Harry barely glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, keeping his gaze firmly attached to this... memory... that had taken Ginny. "I don't have time to deal with you," Harry finally said. "There is a Basilisk in here, and I would rather not fight it until necessary. Now, you will pick up Ginny, and carry her out of here."
"I don't think so," Tom replied. "We are going to talk."
"I don't talk," Harry said. "I fight." And with that, he spat a curse at Tom, who, it seemed, had been expecting it and simply side-stepped.
"We are going to talk," Tom insisted. "About how a small boy such as yourself, with no real talent, could defeat the greatest wizard of all time. How you escaped with nothing but a scar while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Voldemort was after your time."
Tom pulled Ginny's wand from his pocket, and started to write in the air. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. When he waved the wand once more, the letters danced through each other. I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.
"That's a horrible little joke. It was the best you could come up with?" Harry asked, chuckling darkly, debating on whether or not to send another spell in Tom's – Voldemort's – direction.
"I suggest you tell me how you survived against me – twice." Tom said. "The longer you talk, the longer you live."
Harry asked himself how Tom knew all this, when he came to a realization. A diary. He had been locked in a diary. And he had taken Ginny. He glanced furtively at the girl.
"She told me a lot about you, Harry," Tom answered Harry's unasked questions.
Dammit, there goes the tactical advantage, Harry thought, jumping to his legs, and leading a barrage of spells at Tom. The other boy ducked, weaved, and parried with deft precision, ever so slightly edging backward as Harry pressed on. When he was near a wall, and realized he was about to be boxed in, Tom shouted, Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!
With the sound of stone grinding on stone, Harry ducked and rolled to a pillar, covering himself for whatever was to come – and he had a pretty good idea what that 'whatever' was.
And he was right. Kill him! Tom's parseltongue voice hissed out.
As the Basilisk moved towards Harry, he had no other choice but to start casting at it.
For a moment, his eyes met the giant Snake's, and he heard a startled gasp from Tom – Voldemort – when he didn't drop dead on the spot. Casting spells was second nature to him, but none of his spells would penetrate.
He didn't go for his Glock, knowing for a fact that, if the spells did no damage, his sidearm would have no chance whatsoever.
As the Basilisk struck to impale him on its giant fangs, Harry's wand danced up, casting a Shadow Bolt spell from Hermione's repertoire. The shadows, omnipresent, reacted to his voice, and detonated with supreme force against the snake, which trashed wildly as it was blown back, before hissing angrily.
Crap. That only pissed it off, Harry thought to himself. He barely had time to realize that one of the most potent spells he knew had merely succeeded in pissing it off, before it launched itself at him.
From dozen of feet away, faster than the last time.
He only had time to cast a single spell – the air shield spell. It only required half a sound worth of invocation, and air was everywhere.
As the air solidified, the snake hit it, managing to dislodge Harry from his present position, pushing him back.
It hurt like nobody's business, but it kept him alive.
And that was when Harry was becoming aware of something else.
The air was vibrating around him.
The air, stale, and undisturbed for a thousand years, had been amassing magic for that amount of time. It had been asleep, until Harry's pure air-related spell woke it up, and now it wanted in on the action. The air-shield harry had cast was not usually strong enough to blow off a strike from a Basilisk... unless there was a thousand years of untapped magical potential in the air.
Untapped magical potential that was now resonated through the chamber.
Harry smirked as he got up from where he had been pushed by the giant snake's previous attack on his unintentionally supercharged air-shield.
Muttering the air-blade spell under his breath, the magic in the room responded beautifully. As the air formed and displaced into wind, it fluttered around him, tugging at his clothes, making his hair blow in the stiffening breeze before settling at the tip of his wand, forming a solid blob of increasing air-pressure.
As Harry held the spell, the results increased as more and more air added its magic to the incantation. Air, invisible even at high speeds, became visible as it dragged at the floor and pulled up dust and small stones, pushing first Tom Riddle and finally the snake back as hurricane-class gales formed within the Chamber of Secrets.
"Die," Harry muttered, looking right at the Basilisk, looking it right in the eyes as it hissed angrily, withdrawing from the ever-increasing circle of high winds forming around Harry as he continued to charge the air-blade spell. The snake was aware it was looking its end in the eyes, and for one last time, it struck, trying to get through the winds, right before Harry terminated the spell with the finally sound in the sequence.
The ball of compressed air struck at the Basilisk in mid-flight, tearing through its near-impervious hide with deceptive ease, practically turning the snake inside out on its way through the massive body, before hitting the far wall, leaving two dozen deep blade-like markings where the air finally dispelled.
"Come here, Tom. Let me kill you," Harry muttered as he rounded to where Tom had been. Only to find the boy was no longer there.
Instead, he found him by Ginny's body, holding the girl's wand to her head. "I'll kill her, Potter! I swear it! I'll do it! Now I know how you kill Voldemort. You're an impressive boy, Potter. Never would I have imagined someone of your strength. But still, I must get out of here. I have to survive. So you will let me go or I swear I will kill her!"
"One should not negotiate with terrorists. Please, kill her," Harry said, lifting his wand, and starting to cast the air-blade spell again. A thousand years of pent-up magically frustrated air could not be used up in a single spell, and the effects started again.
"You can't kill me, Potter!" Tom shouted again, before shooting a fearful glance at the little black diary not too far away.
"But I can destroy the book, can't I, Tom?" Harry asked, aborting his air-blade spell, feeling the air growl with frustration as he did so, and instead, reaching for a bell-flame spell. The fire element. Fire was transitory by its very nature, but there was nothing better to destroy paper and books with.
Tom blinked fearfully as streams of golden fire joined from the torches to Harry's wand-tip, aiming at the little book.
"No!" Team screamed, right before Harry let the bell-flames destroy the book. It exploded in a mass of paper and ink, and Tom fell in mid-jump, screaming and writhing and trashing, before vanishing into thin air, causing Ginny's wand to clatter on the floor.
Alone with his own thoughts and the deep breathing of his panting lungs, all Harry heard was the steady drip of ink coming off the diary.
And Ginny started to stir.
She blinked her eyes opened, stared at the destroyed diary, the inside-out Basilisk, and finally, a dust-covered Harry holding a smoking wand.
Literally, a smoking wand.
When she looked she was drawing a breath in order to go hysterics, Harry stepped to her. "Are you alright?" he barked at her, as coldly as he could.
She snapped her attention to him, sniffed, and nodded, while her waterworks factory opened completely, and she started crying. Harry sighed. He hated crying females. "Do not make me slap you," he shouted at her, which got her attention.
"Good. I hate crying women," he said, standing up from next to her. "Let's get out of here."
"H-Harry?"
He looked over his shoulder at her. "T-Thank you."
His face softened slightly. "You're welcome."
00000 A couple of days later 00000
Harry skilfully turned over one of the meat patties on the barbecue, making the move look as if he had been doing so all his life.
Then again, Hermione reflected, knowing Harry's background, he probably had been doing this all his life.
"Did you feel any side-effects from channeling so much magic?" she asked.
Harry cocked his head, thinking for a few moments. "The next day, I felt somewhat tired, but nothing extensive. It was a battle, it is supposed to hurt a bit the day after, or you didn't try hard enough."
Hermione nodded, and made a note in her air ledger. "I see. Any downsides to your magic? More trouble casting spells? Unpredictable events?"
Harry was silent for a few seconds again, ordering his thoughts. "Now that you mention it, my spells feel somewhat stronger. Almost as if magic was a muscle that, due to the stress, had been incited into growing. Only, this was practically immediately."
Hermione blinked. "That is... unusual. We can exercise our magic, to improve our output, but magic doesn't grow." She made more notes. "I'll have to do some more research after the break is over." She scoffed slightly. "I hate not being able to do magic outside of school."
Harry looked at her. "Of course you can do magic outside of school."
"It's not allowed," Hermione said, looking straight at him.
"Difference between shouldn't and couldn't. Remember last year? Never do-"
"What your enemy expects you to do. But Harry, these are our leaders!"
Harry shrugged. "I have no intention of following a rule I can not see as beneficial." He stared at the meat, flipped a patty before it burned. "Blame the Mujahedin."
"They'll expel you."
"No, they won't," Harry said, flipping one of the patties in between a bun. "Burger?"
"Sure," Hermione said, taking the hamburger. "Thanks. And why won't they expel you?"
"Leverage," Harry said with a faint grin. "They recruited me from the other side of the world, sparing no expense to retrieve me. They need me. I do not need them. And that makes me the most powerful man in the school, a fact that most people do not seem to realize."
Hermione took a bite from her burger, and chewed thoughtfully. Finally, she swallowed. "I think most people realize it plainly. The MOSSAD-"
"The MOSSAD has chosen to follow me. Even without all of you, I would still be the most powerful man in the school." He flipped two more patties in their buns. "I've got two burgers!"
Neville and Luna were the first ones there, and Harry spent the next few moments handing out food to an ever-increasing amount of students and assorted teachers and parents.
"This is really good," Neville said, licking his lips. "But it's not something I think I've ever eaten before. What is it?"
Harry grinned, finally managing to get a burger for himself. "Basilisk."
Everyone stopped eating, and warily eyed the patties on the grill, or the remnants of burgers in their hands. "Basilisk?"
Harry nodded. "It tasted just like rattlesnake. Quite tasty, nice and lean, and good to keep you going. I'm glad you all enjoy it, usually new recruits don't take to snake so well on their first try."
"Can I have seconds?" Luna asked, smacking her lips.
"Sure," Harry said, flipping a patty in a bun and handing it over.
The others eyed each other. Seeing no adverse reactions in either themselves or the others, the group seemed to come to the consensus that a Basilisk Burger was a) tasty, and b) not lethal, and so decided on solution c) – getting more before the supply ran out.
"Don't worry about running out," Harry shouted over the requests for more. "There's plenty more Basilisk where this came from."
"HARRY!"
Harry's reflexes snapped into action, and he flipped around, facing whatever was screaming at him. Seeing only a redhead, screaming her head off, racing at him, his reactions took over. As the assailant reached him, he grabbed her, and expertly flipped her over over his shoulder, smacking her into the ground.
His knee pressed down on her chest, his wand was held against her temple. "What is your objective?" he demanded angrily, complete silence descending over the outside picnic area.
Ginny Weasley, pale and shaking, just stared up at him, before asking, "Hug?"
Harry blinked. The next moment, he was standing up, his wand away, one hand extended to help her up. "Do not run at me, screaming at the top of your lungs. I do not react well."
She nodded from where she was, before grabbing his hand. To her surprise, he lifted her effortlessly to her feet, simply by pulling on her hand.
"Sir," The Weasley Twins said, snapping a perfect parade-salute. "Our most formal thanks for the rescue of our kid sister."
Harry returned the salute. "You are welcome, Fred, George. Burger?"
The twins looked at each other when every eye on the field focused on them. "Sure?"
Harry flipped two patties into buns, and held them out. Again, both twins hesitated when everyone kept staring at them. Muttering some spells, they found no strange magical substances in the meat or the bun.
"Tasty," Fred muttered.
"Very," George agreed. "But strange, though. What meat is it?"
"Basilisk," Harry replied straightforwardly.
The twins swallowed their bites and stared at the half-eaten buns. "This is a Basilisk Burger?" Fred asked.
"We're eating the Basilisk that tried to eat Ginny?" George added.
Said Ginny was drawing paler still.
Harry shrugged, then nodded.
"That's what you call 'poetic justice'," Fred finally decided, and took a bite. "Good burger, Harry. Thanks."
Harry grinned, and tended to his barbecue.
Ginny shuffled closer, still pale as a ghost. "So... Harry..."
"Yes?"
"Can I?" she asked.
He lifted an eyebrow. "Please be more precise. Can you what?" he replied, waving his wand to have some more minced Basilisk meat turn itself into meat patties.
She lifted her arms, spreading them slightly. "Hug?" she asked, smiling hopefully.
Harry stiffened, and he glanced toward Hermione, his tutor in social interactions. She giggled into the remains of her second burger.
Great tutor she was, Harry thought. He turned to the Weasley Girl. "I see no reason not to acquiesce to your request," he finally replied.
It took Ginny nearly twenty seconds to work out what he had said, but finally determined that he had said 'yes', and clamped on to him. When he felt her burry her head in his chest, he started looking even more uncomfortable. When he felt her sobbing quietly, his discomfort was threatening to reach new levels.
His arms spread, he stared with dismay at the sobbing girl. "Help me!" he mimed to Hermione. "Get it off me!"
Hermione calmly walked over, and whispered to Harry that, usually, people hugged back when they were being hugged. Harry looked at her with dismay.
"Just put your arms around her," Hermione counselled.
Harry sighed, and put his arms around the sobbing girl, not really knowing how to do it, but determined not to fail this latest mission life had thrown at him. "There. How does that feel?" Hermione asked, smiling slightly.
"Uncomfortable," Harry replied levelly. He looked down again. "And wet. She is soaking through my t-shirt." he looked back to Hermione. "Is a hug supposed to last this long?"
"It is if she's this distraught. You saved her, Harry. She just needs to let go."
Harry sighed, tightening his hug to Ginny without even realizing it. "The Basilisk is dead. There is no reason for further concern," he told the sobbing girl. "Please contain yourself."
"S-sorry," Ginny muttered, blushing bright red, jumping away from him, blushing bright red. He nodded.
"No problem. First battles are often traumatic. However, nobody was seriously injured, and there were no fatalities. Please enjoy the party." he waved his wand, flipping a few patties. "Burger?"
Ginny eyed the Basilisk Burgers. "Can you make mine with cheese?" she finally asked.
Harry lifted an eyebrow. He had never considered putting cheese on a burger before, but he realized that the taste might be interesting. "Dobby."
"Yes, Sir?" Dobby said, popping into existence.
"Please retrieve some cheese slices, sized to be put on hamburgers."
"Dobby do, Sir!" Dobby said, saluting, and vanishing.
"Just a few minutes," Harry said to the girl, before resuming his work. Or he tried to, when he suddenly found himself attacked by a Ginny Weasley on steroids – this new version was bigger, older, and possessed a truly formidable voice.
Her size, weight, and added strength was negated by Harry's shoulder, and her voice was stopped when Harry's wand came up to her temple. "What is your objective?" he demanded coldly.
"That's... mom..." Ginny muttered, at the same time as he heard Fred and George mutter o-oh.
00000 Year Three, train ride to school 00000
Harry had secured a nice compartment at the back of the train, where he and his command staff had gathered together to make plans for the coming year.
Suddenly, the train started to stop.
"Positions," Harry muttered, drawing his Glock with his left hand and his wand with his right. "We are not there yet, something is wrong."
At his command, the others started drawing weapons of their own, covering the door and the window.
The next moment, all the lights went out.
Harry cursed loudly, and they could hear him shift. The next moment, he had a flashlight, which he put into his mouth so he could grab his Glock once again, having shifted it to his right with his wand.
Seeing Harry unable to give orders, Neville, almost by instinct, took over. "Whoever comes through the door had better be someone we know."
The others merely nodded, even Luna's sunny disposition was replaced by a stone-cold look that promised only pain and misery to her target.
The next moment, the door rattled open, a horrible figure, cloaked, towered to the ceiling. Its face was hidden by the cloak, while a scaly, half-rotten hand protruded from the sleeve. As the creature drew a rattling breath, intense cold washed over them, and Harry blinked when he felt intense despair was over him, as if the creature was sucking the very heat out of his heart.
He heard screams and gunfire, something terrifying beyond his recognition, people screaming, people dying.
He could smell the blood, the putrid stench of decaying flesh, the acidic smell of killed people expelling waste products.
The darkness crept in on him, the light of his flashlight suddenly not enough to keep the horrid scene illuminated.
Shuffling his feet wide, his reactions and instincts took over.
When you fear, it is dangerous. Danger keeps us sharp. However, fear itself does not.
He blinked, then squeezed his eyes.
One bullet and one spell raced through the half-meter of empty air separating Harry from the creature.
The spell seemed to be absorbed by the creature, however, the bullet was not, and the next moment, warmth seemed to return to the compartment as the horrible creature was on the floor, twisting and spiralling, screeching horribly.
"I intensely dislike fear," Harry replied, dispassionately walking over to the creature, levelling his gun and emptying the clip.
The shots rang like explosions through the silent train, as the screeching was abruptly cut off. Looking up, his eyes seemed to glow. "Are there any more who wish to challenge this?" he asked, while hiding his wand and changing the clip in his Glock.
Nobody answered.
"If there are no takers, at least tell me what it was I just killed. After a ghost, and a Basilisk, I think I have the right to know what else I added to my repertoire at Hogwarts."
"A dementor," a scruffy-looking gentlemen whispered, shuffling out of his compartment.
Harry looked down. "Somehow, I thought a dementor would be more impressive." He shrugged. "The Basilisk put up more of a fight. So did the ghost of Voldemort." Squeaks and shouts entered the air.
"Here," the man said, holding out a huge slab of chocolate. "It'll help."
Harry looked at the chocolate. "Hermione?"
The girl waved her wand. "It's clean."
"Luna?"
The blonde slipped past Hermione and grabbed the chocolate, while Harry kept his Glock up, and Hermione covered him with her wand. "Luna, what is a dementor doing here?"
"Looking for Sirius Black," she replied while breaking the chocolate into pieces.
Harry nodded. "Please convey my utmost displeasure to the Minister of Magic and advise him that I will dispose of any of such creatures coming within one hundred miles of me."
"Of course, Harry," Luna said, handing out tabs of chocolate. "Mmm... Honeyduke's."
"And you are?" Harry demanded of the chocolate-gentlemen. "Even I know better than to accept sweets from strange men."
The man let out a strange half-chuckle. "Remus Lupin, I'm your new Defence Professor..."
Harry looked at the man. "You failed," he told the man candidly, secretly enjoying how the man stiffed. "If you are our Professor, your duty was to prevent this... thing... from boarding the train. You have failed your duty. I do not respect those who fail their duty and do not make every effort to prevent such failures in the future. Which are you?"
"I can't just go against the Ministry of Magic..."
"Of course you can. Raise your wand, and repeat after me."
The man blinked, and lifted his wand. Harry nodded. "Avada..."
"I will NOT!" Lupin snarled, suddenly white as a ghost with outrage.
Harry shrugged. "A soldier obeys only another soldier, higher in rank. You can not be a soldier if you obey a politician who has no skills at war. Return. I shall think about how to deal with you later. And take this garbage with you. Luna, you can enter the compartment. Hermione, can you seal the door and window? I do not feel like being interrupted again."
Lupin just stood there, flabbergasted, as Luna saluted, and stepped inside, after which Harry entered, and Hermione closed the door. Lupin's jaw dropped even further when the door vanished, to be replaced by a smooth wall – and no matter how much he tried, the door did not reappear.
Finally, he shook his head. "Damned if that wasn't the ultimate combo between James and Sirius."
00000 year Three 00000
Harry was staring at the group before him, in a look that came as close to 'shock' as any of the MOSSAD members had ever seen him.
No less than a hundred students were aiming to join in, a solid seventy-five percent of the first years, twenty-five more second year students, and about fifty student scattered through years four to seven. Harry closed his mouth, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.
His mouth moved in what were presumably cuss-words, if only there were someone here who understood Japanese and Russian.
Finally drawing a deep breath and sighing heavily, he opened his eyes and stared at his new 'recruits'. His eyes finding a bunch of red, he homed in like a missile with an attitude problem.
For a moment, he thought it was Ron – only to come face-to-face with Ginny. Lifting an eyebrow, he waited for an explanation.
"I just want to be able to take care of myself," she replied, a faint blush on her cheeks.
He stared at her for close to thirty seconds, and the girl was started to fidget nervously before he nodded. "Fine." Turning around to walk back to his spot in front, he noticed a second splotch of red. Again, he homed in.
This time, he had the correct person before him.
"I... eh... I'm really sorry, Harry," Ron muttered.
Harry stared impassively at him.
"Listen, mate, I'm not going to back down this time. I'm really sorry, I've stayed away from you and your group for two years. I just want to get better! I want to get good grades! I want to go to year three this time! I hate being held back a year!"
Harry still said nothing.
Everyone turned to look at Harry and Ron, as the redhead continued to splutter and plead. "I want to be able to protect my sister, okay!" Ron finally shouted.
Harry still said nothing, lifting an eyebrow. "I'll do anything!" Ron pleaded.
Harry dropped his eyebrow, remaining silent.
"Anything at all! You name it!"
Drawing a breath, Harry opened his mouth. The group collectively held their breaths, this would be the first time since First Year that Harry had spoken to Ron, and they weren't going to miss this.
"Jump off the Astronomy Tower. No parachutes, no spells. Make splat on the ground, and I'll consider it."
Ron drew pale as the implications sank in, and stared with open mouth at Harry. "But... but..."
"Goodbye," Harry said, turning his back to the redhead, and walking back to the front. "Remove him," he told Neville, who just nodded, grabbed his wand, and stunned, bound, petrified, and levitated Ron, before depositing him – more or less nicely – outside of the Room of Requirement.
"This is going to be difficult," he told the assembled group, who were staring at Harry with a combination of fear and awe. "I will need to discuss this. You are dismissed, reconvene here in thirty minutes." He turned and walked through a door that wasn't there ten seconds earlier, motioning the MOSSAD members to follow him.
The door closed.
"This is going to be difficult to organize. There are too many to give individual training. We really will need to start organizing this if we are to make it a success. I will now hear your arguments, for and against, before making my decision on whether to allow their entrance, or how to organize training."
It was a very interesting thirty minutes, as Harry didn't allow debates to be held.
After the first time his wand struck the table with enough force to make it rattle, and declaring this was not a democracy, everyone stuck to the point – merely giving their personal opinions on whether to allow the group to enter, and on how to organize it if they were for.
In the end, Harry nodded. "I have made my decision," he announced, standing up. "Neville, reconvene them."
Neville took charge of a few MOSSAD members, and the third-year and five second-years had no problem getting the group back together.
"I have made my decision," Harry told the prospective recruits. They all held their breaths.
"I will allow you to enter the MOSSAD. HOWEVER!" He shouted over the hubbub that broke out, silencing everyone with a single word. "However," he went on, "as this means this is no longer a mere study-group, but an actual fighting force, we will need to reorganize certain activities. My general staff and I have completed education at a Military Academy. So have certain key members of last years' recruits. They know what is involved."
"As such, I am promoting myself to the rank of Captain, acting immediately. I am promoting my staff from Second Lieutenant to First Lieutenant, and I am promoting the Sergeant-Majors who completed Military Academy schooling to Second Lieutenant. After basic training is completed, you will be required to chose the division you wish to join. This one time only, I will allow last year's members to freely choose their division, and thus, their commanding officer. After this, transferring from one division to another will require you to come to me, formally request a transfer, and provide me with a damn good explanation why."
"One last thing – those interested in Military Academy education, and thus a promotion to officer, First Lieutenant Hermione Granger will provide you with the Room of requirement necessary the first two weekends of October. Also remember that this training last four years in subjective time, and that you will need to work for your graduation. Dismissed!"
"Command Staff, with me," he said, as he left the small podium, leaving the Room of Requirement with the newly promoted First Lieutenants behind him. "We can't keep using the Room of Requirement as our command centre," he said as he walked the halls with the small ground walking around him. "I was thinking of redecorating the Chamber of Secrets. It is in a secret, undisclosed, and tactically sound position. Hermione, I want you to develop the spells necessary for this. Luna, you are Intelligence officer, I want you to help her, figure out who knows what and how to misdirect them."
"Oh, and will someone please figure out what the story is behind this Sirius Black bastard that escaped from prison? I really dislike Dementors."
"We noticed," Hermione said with a faint smile on her face, Neville nodding, while the others merely smiled weakly. Hearing the death throes of a Dementor was almost as bad as being subjected to the creature itself.
00000 Fudge doesn't like how things are progressing 00000
"I demand his arrest immediately!" Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge shouted at the top of his lungs the moment two Aurors pushed the doors to the Great Hall open.
All conversation in the Great Hall during lunch time came to an immediate halt as everyone stared at the Minister.
"May I ask to whom you are referring, Cornelius?" Albus Dumbledore requested kindly, although his tell-tale twinkle was absent in his eyes.
Nor was there any question of doubt in anyone's mind as to whom the Minister was referring. Half of the Hall looked at Harry. The other half, mostly MOSSAD members, merely narrowed their eyes and started to, discretely, draw their wands or firearms they had on their person.
Such was the confidence he held in his fellow students that Harry, himself, merely edged his hands closer to his Glock and his wand, but not drawing them in any noticeable way. On either side of him, he saw Neville and Hermione, both was drawn wand and firearms crossed in their laps, the weapons hidden from view by the heavy table.
"Harry Potter, of course!" the Minister shouted, turning to the Boy-Who-Lived in question. "Up you go, boy!"
Harry lifted an eyebrow, righted himself, jerked his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. "On what charges?"
"Do you even need to ask!"
"Obviously, or I would not have asked," Harry replied coldly.
The half that was staring at Harry gulped, and turned to look at the Minister. That was the exact same tone of voice he used when he was about to deliver a verbal smack-down of epic proportions...
"The slaughter of ten Ministry Dementors!" the Minister shouted.
Harry nodded. "I see. So you will be rewarding me with imprisonment rather than honour," Harry said. "I refuse to be arrested. Do your worst." He drew his wand, and pointed it at the ground. "I shall die on my feet, rather than live on my knees."
Fudge grew red, and blustered. "You... you'll fight my Aurors?"
Harry nodded once. "I refuse to recognise an inhumane government ran by a corrupt politician. It is my right – nay, my duty – to oppose any government that places so little value on human life. Kill me if you must, but know that you will make me more powerful than you can ever imagine should you chose to do so."
Fudge didn't understand half of what Harry was saying. "Arrest him! Use any force necessary!"
The four accompanying Aurors suddenly found themselves at wand-point of no less than a hundred students.
"Wha...?" Fudge muttered, confounded out of his mind.
"They recognise authentic leadership when they see it," Harry said, jumping on top of the table, before jumping down on the other side, facing Fudge.
"Why are you doing this!" Fudge finally shouted. "You and your little friends are going to get hurt!"
"Pain is a little price to pay for freedom," Harry said. "Even death is too small a price to pay for freedom. As to why I am doing this – because of the law."
"Law? What law?"
Harry waved his wand, momentarily making the Aurors and Fudge tense up. A book appeared before Harry, which he thumped down on the table. "Fourth Geneva Convention, Part One, Article Three, and I quote: Persons taking no active part in the hostilities, including members of armed forces who have laid down their arms and those placed hors de combat by sickness, wounds, detention, or any other cause, shall in all circumstances be treated humanely, without any adverse distinction founded on race, colour, religion or faith, sex, birth or wealth, or any other similar criteria.
To this end the following acts are and shall remain prohibited at any time and in any place whatsoever with respect to the above-mentioned persons: (a) violence to life and person, in particular murder of all kinds, mutilation, cruel treatment and torture." He looked at the Minister. "I would say that Dementors classify under 'Cruel treatment and torture'."
"Bah, humbug. Muggle nonsense," the Minister said. "I will not be held to such... idiocy!"
Harry eyes glittered hardly, and for a moment the Minister took a step back. Harry conjured a second book. "The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Article Five! No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment!"
"More Muggle nonsense!"
Harry thumped the book down with enough force to rattle the table and all the cutlery upon it. "These are the basic rights of every human being, and I will not have them sullied in my presence! Minister, this conversation is being recorded. I suggest you and I come to an agreement, and that you leave. You do not wish this to go to the press."
Fudge drew white as a sheet. "Now listen here, boy, I am the Minister of Magic..."
"You will be a dead Minister of Magic before your assassins have the time to let loose a single spell," Harry stated, back to his cold self, as if he had never lost his temper. "Again, I suggest we bargain, and this need never get out. Comply, or I will annihilate you the same way I helped annihilate the Russians in Afghanistan!"
Even Fudge had heard of Afghanistan. And even Fudge realized he wouldn't be in office long – should he survive, of course, once Harry started bombing the Ministry buildings.
"Fine. What do you want?"
"Good," Harry said, smiling faintly. "I had hoped we needn't come to this." He waved his wand, conjuring a small stack of parchment. "As it stands, you will sign this."
As Fudge grumbled and accepted the parchment, his eyes went wide s he read it. "This... you can not be serious!"
"Of course I am," Harry said. "It's quite simple. You will leave me alone, I will leave you alone, and you will keep the Dementors at least one hundred kilometres away from me. The next time I see one around Hogwarts, I won't just shoot it. I will start hunting them full-time, and eradicate its entire species. Last year I tracked a Basilisk, Dementors are easier to find."
"But... this will give you complete immunity!"
Harry shrugged. "No more or no less than you have. We've researched this quite thoroughly. My Head of Magical Intelligence knew you would come two days ago. It's her job to know and to predict what will happen. My Head of Magical Research and Development then studied the Wizarding Laws." In the Room of Requirement, under time-dilation, Harry din't add. Let them think Hermione can become a lawyer in 48 hours. "That is the end-result. Do you agree?"
"You threaten me, my health, and my position, and you expect me to sign this? That's not just blackmail, that's extortion!"
Harry nodded. "Yes. Yes, it is. However, as you so clearly stated, you don't adhere to Muggle nonsense, do you? There isn't a single Wizarding Law against the practice. I know. We checked."
Fudge made a keening noise, almost like a kicked puppy. "Fine. I'll sign."
Harry nodded. "And the recordings will go into my personal vaults. No need to let them get out now, do we, Minister?"
Fudge shuddered angrily. "And these others?"
"They'll keep their mouths shut, if they know what is good for them," Harry snapped angrily, stared over the Great Hall. Everybody just nodded. He gazed up to the Head Table. Dumbledore looked in shock, as were most of the teachers. They nodded dumbly.
Fudge signed, and left the Hall without a second word or glance. "Minister!"
The Minister stopped abruptly, and angrily turned around.
"Your copy," Harry said, signing the parchment, which then, dutifully, copied itself. The original vanished, along with the Geneva Convention and the Human Right Declaration. Fudge snapped the copy out of Harry's hand, turned, and left.
The Aurors snickered silently, giving Harry a covered thumbs-up, and walked out after their boss.
"You are one scary dude," Dean muttered as Harry walked around the table to retake his seat. "I swear, you could have killed them with your glare when Fudge dismissed your evidence..."
"I hate politics," Harry sat, sitting down. "But, this time, it worked out alright." He looked at Dean. "And never piss me off enough to make me look at you like that."
Dean nodded hurriedly, giving Dobby a run for his money. "Of course, wouldn't think of it!"
Harry smiled faintly. "Good."
00000 Dealing with Sirius Black 00000
All Sirius wanted was to see his godson, Harry.
As such, he was skulking around, hidden under his illegal animagus form, that of a big, black dog.
Even so, big, black dogs weren't exactly common at Hogwarts, and so, Sirius kept to the shadows, managing to avoid detection.
Until he was stunned from behind.
When he woke up, he found his muzzle tied shut, while his paws had been tied together, and a pole inserted in between them. As such, he found himself upside-down, dangling from said pole, as it was slung over the shoulders of two students.
Being upside-down, and looking straight at the backs of one of his captors, Sirius couldn't really see where they were going, only that it involved a heck of a lot of stairs.
"He's awake," Sirius heard a voice proclaim from behind him. A female voice. He tried to look around, but his position made that difficult, and all he managed to see where walls.
"Tough bastard," the male in front said. "No matter. He's harmless now."
"I wonder what the Captain has in store," the female from behind said. "He was quite adamant we capture it."
Sirius blinked. Captain? What Captain? Not for the first time, he thought about risking transformation back into his human form.
But then his thoughts came back to the same point – he was tied pretty effectively, and if he tried to transform, it was quite likely the ropes would burn into his flesh and possibly break his bones when he enlarged into a fully-grown man.
And so, Sirius stayed as a dog and listened to the conversation. "I don't really care. You know the Captain; he always has something good ins store for us."
"Lucky us," the female replied to her male counterpart, not a hint of sarcasm present. "I can hardly wait!"
They came to a stop when the stairs finally ended. "Lieutenants Longbottom and Granger, signing in," the male said to someone Sirius couldn't see.
"Yes, sir," an unknown voice replied from further up ahead. "And your... captive?"
"Present for the Captain," Longbottom replied. Sirius wanted to sigh. He had been captured by Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger – Harry's closest friends! Then, he sagged again. He still din't know who this Captain was.
Granted, he had spent most of his time hunting that rat, Pettigrew, and not enough time watching his godson, but still...
They were obviously waved through, as the small procession started up again.
Sirius heard the sounds of a large door opening by magic. When they stepped through, the first door closed, and only when it was closed, did the second door open.
Sirius had never seen such a construction before, but he could immediately realize the protective potential of it – someone could be captured inside.
They stepped into a large room, again, with very little of Sirius's view free, he couldn't make out much details before they stepped immediately into a smaller room to one side.
He was placed down in a corner, on his back, and allowed to drop sideways, his view finally unblocking so he could see properly.
His two captors stood before a desk, saluting. "We have captured the objective, Sir," Neville Longbottom said.
"Thank you, both," Harry said, returning the salute. "I knew I could count on you."
"May I ask what you are planning, Sir?" Hermione asked, curiously.
Harry smiled, and looked at the dog. "I've been trying for ages to get the Elves in this castle to serve dog. Unfortunately, they are unexpectedly squeamish about that. Luckily for us, we have this fine specimen running around, so I will be treating you and the Command Staff to a delicious dog meal tonight. I have a very good recipe that is simply to die for."
The dog's eyes went extremely wide, before a keening whine escaped through the tied-shut muzzle.
Harry looked straight at it. "It seems to be able to understand us," he said, and the dog started nodding its head up and down, Sirius frantically trying to convey that, a) yes, he could understand them, and b) he shouldn't be dinner!
Harry shrugged. "Never mind. Let's call it 'Dinner' – in honour of its new function." Another whine. "And if it doesn't stop whining, we'll promote it to 'Lunch'." The whine was louder, before abruptly cutting off.
Sirius made the biggest puppy-dog-eyes he could make, in the hope of coming across as a harmless stray mutt, and sparing him the pot.
"Yes, it looks like a very fine specimen indeed," Harry repeated himself. "I will see both of you tonight?"
"Yes, Sir," both replied at the same time.
"Good. Could you send in Lieutenant Lovegood? She had a report to make," Harry said, turning to some papers on his desk, one of which evidently held his appointment schedule. Honestly, who knew that running a shadow army took so much effort?
Luna entered thirty seconds later. "Lieutenant Lovegood reporting, Sir!" She said crisply, saluting. Harry returned it, and Luna handed him a manila folder, marked 'CO's eyes only'. The moment Harry's eyes made contact with it, the manilla folder turned black.
"Nice security spell," Harry complimented.
"Thank you, Sir. Hermione helped me with it!"
Opening the folder, he started leafing through the pages. "Can you give me the highlights? I'll read the details as needed," he asked.
Luna nodded. "Of course, Sir. We have confirmed that Sirius Black is your godfather."
Harry sat up straight. Sirius' doggy eyes went wide. "He is my what?"
"Your godfather. He was stipulated in your parents' will as being your primary magical guardian. Unfortunately, he was implicated with your parents' death, the death of his friend, Peter Pettigrew, and the killing of twelve muggles to get to said friend. He was imprisoned in Azkaban."
Harry's fist balled. "It figures."
"He is innocent, was sent there without a trial," Luna went on, making Harry slam his fist on the desk.
"That figures, too."
"He was not the Secret Keeper of your parents' Fidelius Charm. That was Peter Pettigrew, a detail not known to the public, but confirmed to us by scanning the remain of Godric's Hollow. Sirius Black went after Pettigrew in the understanding that he was the traitor."
Harry nodded. "I see."
"Pettigrew survived the attack, faked his own death, and blew up the street, killing a dozen muggles. Sirius Black was found, laughing amid the rubble, obviously insane at that point."
"Understandably," Harry muttered. "Are these sources valid? Are we sure this is what happened?"
"Hermione's Past Sight spells have never failed before," Luna replied.
"I see," Harry muttered. "Fine. Let's find Sirius Black. If you find him, bring him here, so we can interrogate him ourselves if needed. No need to let an innocent man go back to Azkaban."
Luna nodded. "Very well, Sir."
"You will be here tonight? I'm making my world-renowned dog recipe."
Luna looked at the dog for the first time. "I had assumed it to be a new pet. Of course I will be here, Sir!"
"Dinner will keep me company until it's time to start cooking," Harry replied. "Thanks for the file."
"You're welcome, Sir." She saluted again, and left, leaving Harry to leaf through the file.
Sirius whined again, hoping to catch Harry's attention and hoping to be able to convince him to spare him.
"You're really hoping to become Lunch, rather than Dinner, aren't you?" Harry asked the dog without looking up.
Sirius fell silent again.
Finally, Harry closed the file, and looked at the dog. Waving his wand, the ropes fell away, and Sirius wasted no time in transforming back into a man.
"I'm a man! I'm sirius Black! Please don't eat me!"
Harry lifted an eyebrow, and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "Please have a seat, Mister Black."
Sirius blinked, and sat. "You don't look surprised to see me."
Harry smiled silently. "I know pretty much everything that goes on in this castle. Now, care to tell me why you, as an innocent man, are scouring around the castle dressed as a dog?"
"Well, I saw a picture of the Weasleys, and I noticed their rat – it was missing a finger," Sirius muttered, completely off his teawater with the strange response he was getting from his godson.
Harry frowned, looked at the file, leafed through it. "Pettigrew's finger was found. Same missing toe on the rat?"
Sirius nodded. "We became animagi together, your father, me, Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin."
"Our DADA teacher?" Harry asked, lifting an eyebrow. He tapped the M on his chest. "Lieutenant Lovegood, please get back in here."
Luna was back in less than ten seconds. She, too, seemed to take Sirius' appearance in stride.
"Pettigrew is missing a finger, as is you-know-who's pet rat. They became animagi together with my father. Remus Lupin is a werewolf, I'm guessing you three became animagi to help him out during his time of the month?"
Sirius stared at Harry, while Luna took everything in stride. "How did you... right, you know pretty much everything that goes on in this castle."
"You're learning, Mr Black."
"Now... why don't you look surprised? Or your friend here?" Sirius asked.
"This is not the first time I received this report, Mr Black," Harry said, closing his file. "In fact, I received this report almost a week ago. And the more I looked into you... the more I came to the understanding that you and your friends enjoyed a good prank."
Sirius stared at Harry.
"You've just been pranked, Sirius," Harry said, blankly.
"Let me get this straight. You stunned me, tied me up, brought me here – and I don't even want to know where 'here' is – and made me believe you were going to eat me?"
"Yes."
"Brilliant!" Sirius shouted, laughing in a strange half-barking way that was uniquely 'his', and that sounded very familiar to Harry for some reason. "That one has got to rank in the top ten of best pranks ever!"
"This is nothing compared to what we did to the Minister," Luna said with a faint smile.
Sirius turned to look at the blonde, before staring at Harry. "Did you prank the Minister?"
"More like extorted him," Harry aid with a faint smile. "I got him to say that he didn't care about people's rights, and other 'muggle nonsense' on recording, then threatened to expose him to the media unless he gave me what I wanted."
Sirius stared slack-jawed at Harry. "Which is?" he finally asked.
"Ministry-level immunity for me and everyone in my group," Harry replied. "Which means that I can kill someone, and more or less expect to et away with it – as long as I don't go around blasting people in broad daylight in front of witnesses." He rubbed his chin. "And even then I have a chance to get away with it, I suppose."
"That... That's brilliant," Sirius said in awe. "You've got to be the best godson I could want!"
Harry dipped his head. "I am glad you approve."
"Now... I'm still a wanted criminal, though... you wouldn't happen to know of a way to help your old godfather, would you?" Sirius asked, trying to make the puppy-eyes as a fully grown man.
Given his dishevelled appearance, it was less than successful.
"Unfortunately, I have no influence with the Ministry beyond the agreement I..." Harry trailed off, trying to find a decent euphemism.
"Extorted?" Luna suggested.
"I didn't want to use that word," Harry said with a look at her. The blonde shrugged her shoulders and ignored it. "Fine. The agreement I extorted out of them. I can only protect those within my organization."
Sirius shrank in on himself. "I'll ask Albus if he can..."
"Mister Black," Harry interrupted, speaking loudly, slowly, and clearly. "There is nothing I can do for you, as you are not a member of my organization."
Sirius blinked, the old Marauder's mind coming into play. "And how could I become a member of your organization?"
Harry smiled. "Hypothetically, one asks to join."
"Can I join?"
"Luna, please get Neville and Hermione in here."
Luna stood up, and returned thirty seconds later with both Hermione and Neville.
"We have a potential recruit," Harry said, motioning for Sirius. "Your recommendations?"
"His record is... interesting," Hermione said, rubbing her chin as she looked at him.
"A bit scrawny, but I think that can be worked up," Neville added.
"Apart from the no-trial and the phoney charges, his background is clean," Luna said.
Harry nodded. "Draw your wand," he told Sirius.
The man looked at the ground. "They snapped it."
"Hermione, can you build Sirius a new wand?" he asked.
"I'll look into it," Hermione said.
Harry nodded, then flipped over his wand, and held it out to Sirius. Immediately, the other drew their own wands, pointing loosely at the ground. "Use this."
Sirius noticed the looks he get from the other, and took the wand, holding it out before him. "You will now take an oath. Repeat after me..."
00000 Fudge, part two 00000
"He can't do this!" Fudge shouted as he stormed into the Great Hall, this time pushing the door open himself in his rage.
"Who can't do what, Cornelius?" Dumbledore asked, again, very well aware of just who had what to anger the Minister.
"You!" Fudge shouted, pointing at Harry. "You can't just let Black enter your organization and claim him innocent!"
Harry stood up, and handed a folder to Fudge. "I can, and I will. The man is innocent, never received a trial, and this is the proof. I expect you to drop the matter. Failure to comply will result in me sending this, and copies of this, to every wizarding newspaper, and magazine in the entire English-speaking world."
Fudge stared at the folder, opened, it, read the first page in it, and paled. "Never awarded trial... wasn't Secret Keeper for the Potters... memory evidence... magical residue..." Immediately, Fudge's political mind realized the trouble he was in. This was going to be a blame of epic proportions if it got out!
"I... will see what I can do..." Fudge muttered.
"Good man," Harry said, sitting down again. "Care to join us for lunch, Minister?"
"This dog recipe is indeed to die for, Harry," Neville added in.
Fudge turned green, shook his head, and stormed out of the Great Hall.
"I love tormenting that man," Harry muttered into the silence of the Great Hall.
00000 Closing up year three, tying loose ends 00000
Harry entered what used to be a girl's bathroom. Using some heavy exorcism spells, they'd gotten rid of the wailing ghost inside, and managed to secure the room as an entrance into the Mossad Command Centre. The door would only open to those who were registered to the magical alarm system – which in turn was tied directly into the Hogwarts Wards.
Hermione was a genius.
Walking to the large door that secured the entrance to what used to be the Chamber of Secrets, Harry drew his wand. "Captain Harry Potter," he told the door.
"Voice Print accepted," the Security System replied, triggering the door release.
It vanished into thin air, and Harry stepped through. Behind him, the door re-materialized. Shifting his bookbag higher onto his shoulders, Harry commenced the trek down the long, long, long staircase down into the antechamber of the Chamber of Secrets.
It was great for endurance building, running up and down these stairs, and Harry had taken to jogging up and down these stairs early in the morning, where he was unlikely to bump into anybody.
Stair-climbing was better than just running.
Finally, he emerged at the Chamber Level, and approached a small desk, behind which were seated two MOSSAD members. "Captain Potter, signing in," Harry told them, signing his name to the register. He was waved through immediately.
Being a member of the upper echelon had its privileges.
Entering the outer door to the airlock that separated the Command and Control centre from the outside air, Harry came to a stop in the small room, and waited for the outer door to cycle closed before being subjected to an intense, if only momentary, blast of hot air as the Life Support Spells switched him from outside to inside air.
What use was a defensible position if any mere biological or chemical attack could get in through the air, after all.
He stepped through the cycling inner door, and surveyed the Status Wall for a few moments, before nodding to himself and sitting down at one of the auxiliary stations, next to his godfather, Sirius Black.
"Your freedom," Harry said, drawing some papers out of his backpack.
"I still can't believe you got me off so easily, Harry," Sirius said, quietly reading his release papers, obviously unable to voice his emotions.
Harry just nodded. "I am good at what I do, and have been smart enough to surround myself with people who are good at what they do. None of this would be possible without Hermione Granger's genius, Luna Lovegood's contacts, Neville Longbottom's operational expertise, or Susan Bones' medical abilities. Nor could we do without Dobby and the House-Elf auxiliary, I suppose, for they are the ones who really came through for us when they built this place according to Hermione's specifications."
Sirius just nodded, and stared up at the Status Wall. "Still... that's a mighty fine expansion on our old map, Harry."
"When the Weasley Twins brought it to my attention, Hermione made short work of disassembling the spells and charms, and expand upon them." The far wall was one gigantic representation of Hogwarts, floor-by-floor, filled with multi-coloured dots, and small name tags. "It is unfortunate that Pettigrew was already gone by the time we brought this online, or we might have been able to capture him."
Sirius just nodded, looking at the small screen embedded into the station they were sitting at. A small representation of the Status Wall was visible, and he tapped his own name.
Sirius Black – age 34
Special abilities: Animagus, passive occlumency
Criminal record: suspected in Potter Massacre, cleared. Suspected in Pettigrew and muggle slaying, cleared.
Background: clean
Do you wish a full bio: Yes/No
The system waited patiently for Sirius to tap either the Yes or No, or select to return to the main screen.
"I wish we had been able to tag him," Harry said. "Then we could have tracked him anywhere he went."
"Even then, there are wards, and other things he could do to hide himself," Sirius replied.
Harry shook his head. "Stand up, Sirius. Let me show you what I mean." Sirius, confused, stood up, and together, they walked to the front of the Command Centre, where Neville was doing a shift, keeping an eye on the Wall, along with one of the new First-Year recruits.
"Can you put on the global view?" Harry asked.
Neville nodded. "Coming right up, Sir." He entered a few commands into the runic keyboard before him, shifting the magic around. The Wall's view split vertically, shifting the Hogwarts view to the right, and putting a rotating earth-globe on the right.
"We have introduced a constellation of forty satellites into space. They can track anyplace on the globe, alike a muggle GPS system. Had we seen Pettigrew before he vanished, we would have been able to locate his magical core anywhere on the planet, no matter where he was hiding."
"That's impossible," Sirius muttered, staring t the globe, where a few scattered dots were present, only to disappear as the globe rotated.
"Hermione is a Genius – capital G. In three years, she has created new fields of magic that are fifty to a hundred years ahead of the Magical World. Everything the muggles can do using technology, Hermione can do using magic. Enchanting a big rock, then transporting it into space, does the same trick as launching a satellite does."
Sirius didn't understand any of the muggle references Harry was making, but he did understand the gist of it. "So, basically, you're the most powerful man in Britain."
Harry shook his head. "I am merely here to learn, not to wage war. If people leave me alone, I will leave them. I have no desire to use the power at my disposal, and without desire, there is no true strength, nor is there true power. One only becomes powerful when one has the desire to use the power at his disposal."
Harry nodded to Neville. "Thanks, Neville."
"You're welcome, harry," Neville replied with a small smile, replacing the world view by shifting the runes around on his keyboard.
Sirius turned to Harry. "You're saying there are forty pieces of enchanted rock in orbit?"
"They're more like boulders than mere rocks, but yes," Harry confirmed.
"How did you get them up there?"
"Transported them, of course," Harry replied.
"But... how? Portkey?" Sirius asked.
Harry looked at him, and shook his head sadly. "Transported them," Harry re-stated. "We can transport anything, anywhere, anytime. It was part of the enchanting matrix of the satellites. Of course, the first satellite could only be transported straight up from the Central Transportation Matrix, here in the Command Centre, but once it was there, we could expand out network from there. I think it took us five or six hours to transport all forty satellites into orbit."
"Hang on, harry. You're telling me you can transported something to the other side of the world? Anything? Anybody?"
Harry nodded, and tapped his badge. "Potter to Transportation. Please place me on the other side of Sirius Black. Just a small demonstration."
There was a two second silence. "Ready, sir."
"Activate."
Harry vanished into a column of sparkling magic, and Sirius jumped when that same column reappeared on his other side. "Holy-" the man started to curse, only to contain himself. "You can't Apparate at Hogwarts!"
"Then, by process of elimination, it's not Apparition, isn't it?" Harry asked, lifting an eyebrow, causing Sirius to bark out his trademarked laugh.
