Disclaimer: What can I say? I don't own it.
Summary: Harry decides he wants to try Animagi, and persuades Hermione to help... this changes them... a lot.
Chapter 9 : A New Summer
Harry Potter's return to Number Four, Privet Drive had been a rather... odd affair that third summer. Oh it hadn't been that strange for Harry himself, as he simply didn't want to notice anything out of order.
Rather, it was the Dursleys who found Harry's state to be unnerving. Not because he was a wizard-in-training; far from it, in fact. Instead, they were simply puzzled and, frankly, a bit annoyed at Harry's announcement upon his return: He didn't want to hear any mention of the 'M' word, his school, or either of his parents for as long as he was there. Put simply, none of it existed. This, of course, gave the Dursleys quite the dilemma: Do they annoy and anger Harry by doing what he didn't want done, which happened to be exactly what they didn't want from him? Or do they just ignore it and do as they always had, thus actually doing what Harry wanted them to? In the end none of them could actually make up their mind on the matter, so they just did what came natural to them: They became grumpy and did whatever they may well please, and if that meant Aunt Petunia complained about her sister on a daily basis, then so be it!
Harry on the other hand, had quickly fallen into the routine of doing the chores, staying quiet, and spending his alone time with his toys and, when possible, out exploring the streets. But to the Dursleys, Harry's silence was the most frightening thing of all. Not the hanging threat of Sirius Black coming to check on his godson, not the thought of having random Wizards coming by to call; no, the simple fact that Harry wanted to hear nothing of Magic had them all unnerved to the point of relative silence.
Well, except for Dudley, but he wasn't very bright so that was to be expected.
And true to his word, Harry had made no mention of magic, hadn't tried to do his homework, and hadn't so much as asked them a single question the entire time he was there.
The only part that had Harry unnerved were the dreams. They started out slowly enough, with a few random images that didn't make any sense to him, but when he started seeing Wormtail in them he began to pay attention.
The only conclusion that he could come to was that Wormtail had found a way to help his master come back, as had been prophesied, and he was being shown that information. More annoying was the tendency of his scar to hurt with a dull ache anytime one of his dreams woke him up.
He made notes of what he saw, but otherwise tried not to think about them. It simply wouldn't be healthy to worry too much about something he couldn't help.
He and Sirius had spent a bit of time writing each-other, the Owl Post flights being the only thing from the Magical world that Harry didn't mind, so long as the Dursleys didn't see it. Sirius' letters were nice, and the wide variety of birds that he sent to see him were a rather cool thing, though Hedwig seemed to not like having so many strange birds coming at all hours of the day.
A few days into vacation Dudley, who'd been forced onto a diet that he absolutely hated, chucked his PlayStation out the window, where it smashed against the ground; it was a dumb thing to do, seeing as he then was unable to play those silly, uber-violent games he liked to play to get his mind off things, but as he'd likely get a new one if he complained enough Dudley probably didn't care at all. Harry, in response to Dudley's fit, had been told to pick up the mess, whence he surreptitiously managed to spirit the wreckage off to his room, though he had no idea what he might do with it all.
It had rested in his room for quite some time, sitting in the trunk that he was now allowed to keep with him, courtesy the threat of Sirius Black's possible appearance should Harry not be treated well. For three days it sat in there, unseen but known about, taunting Harry with an idea that he hadn't yet fully formed, teasing him with images and thoughts he didn't quite manage pull from his mind to get proper hold of.
On the fourth day he spent some time just after breakfast just sitting there, staring at the broken device as it sat on the floor beside his bed. He stared and stared and stared. He just could not, for the life of him, figure out exactly what about it drew him to it...
So he tried to figure it out. 'It's Dudley's PlayStation; Uncle Vernon would probably shout at me if he knew I took it, even if it is broken. Don't even know why I took it, I'm just staring at it now. ... So... what is it? It's a sort of computer you play games with... well, it used to be, not really useful for that anymore. Mmm, well it's a Muggle thing... and it's broken. Wonder if one could fix it with magic. Wonder if that's illegal? I'll have to ask Mr. Weasley. 'Course he'd go absolutely mad with glee if I gave it to him, so maybe I should. Anyway, it's a muggle thing... maybe I could learn to fix it?'
Harry blinked, there was something about that thought that tickled something in his mind. It was just on the tip of his tongue... Or mind, or whatever.
Muggles. Wizards... Harry sort-of belonged to both worlds. He could probably try to bring the two together. Like Miss Cynthia.
'Hmm, that's it! I've got it!' Harry grinned, bounding to his feet; he transformed into Flash and scurried to the wreckage, looking it over with new eyes, 'That's it, isn't it! I learn Wizard stuff at Wizard school in the Wizard world, I should learn Muggle stuff here in the Muggle world! This is a motor, it probably spins the discs I've seen Dudley stick in there; this is, well it's got metal sticking to it so it's obviously a magnet. Ohh, I need something to read about it! I wonder if I've got anything in my trunk!' Suddenly he hopped to his trunk and disappeared inside, rummaging noisily inside and thrusting toys out on the floor until he found what he was looking for, crawling back out and putting it on the floor in front of him as he looked it over; being just a bit before lunchtime the sun was still shining into his room, so he was perfectly able to see the writing in gold leaf on the cover of the book, Electronic Theory and Practice: A Beginner's Guide.
Ron might have scoffed at it being called 'A Beginner's Guide', as it was thick enough to kill a Rat just by setting it over top one, but Harry had once thought it might be interesting reading. When it'd been on auction once the previous summer he'd bought it on a whim, using a bit of his money from his vault; apparently no one in Diagon Alley really wanted something so obviously Muggle, but Harry was glad for it because as he opened the pages to look them over, he found that it really was, in fact, a beginner's guide. It started at the very basic levels, speaking about circuits, charges, and what happened to those electrical forces when they were pushed through various shapes and types of materials. The third chapter finally taught about batteries and cells, later moving on to induction current and, at around the fifth chapter, it showed a simple project that Harry wondered if he'd be able to pull off with the materials handy.
Though after looking it over he decided that, no, he would still need to buy a few things of his own; the Dursleys wouldn't be likely to let him rip wiring out of their things, though they'd probably give him a toilet paper tube. He could probably scrounge up a piece of wood in the garbage cans around the area, and who knew if he'd be able to find a razor blade or not. Pencils weren't hard to come by, but perhaps most inconveniently the Dursleys only had the wrong kind of push-pins, though he wondered if he'd be able to use paper clips instead.
By the next morning he'd completed everything that was needed for his simple experiment; with little more than some wire he'd purchased with less than the muggle equivalent of a Sickle, a razor blade, pencil, and some other little bits he'd salvaged here and there he had created, with his own two hands, a fully functional, albeit painfully simple radio capable of picking up crude, talk-radio programs. He'd been reluctant to destroy the PlayStation more than it already was and so been forced to buy the wire from a parts store, but it'd been worth it, as the sense of accomplishment filled him with a happiness he hadn't had in quite a while. He wondered, idly, if salvaged wire would be an even greater accomplishment, though it would require a specific kind and quality, so it'd probably have to come from an old motor or something. Which, if he managed to scrounge up a good-enough sized one he'd also get some magnets in the deal, and maybe some gear works if he was lucky.
And from there the next three weeks were full of much of the same; contrary to his previous experience with the Dursleys, this year they hardly so much as looked at him, let alone giving him a hard time and didn't seem keen on talking much other than Aunt Petunia complaining to the Kitchen counters about her sister, or Dudley making fun of him from across the street, so it was of little surprise that he hadn't even thought about Ron's offer for all that time. It'd only been brought to his attention when he got an owl tapping at his window one day; he'd just been eating at a cake he'd gotten for his birthday when Ron's new, minute owl showed up carrying a letter.
He pulled the letter from the little owl's grasp and it started flying about in incredible, hyperactive circles while chattering about how much fun the journey had been and how he hoped to do it again, among a few other things that all amounted to hyperactive celebrating; Hedwig merely clicked her beak reprovingly, not even bothering to really say anything to the little owl.
Trying to ignore the little fuzz-ball, Harry opened the letter and began reading.
Harry,
It's me, Ron. DAD GOT THE TICKETS! The game is this monday, Ireland versus Bulgaria! I suppose you'd better ask the muggles yourself if you can go; it was a good thing you nixed me calling you by tellyfone. I called Hermione and she says I nearly shouted her ear off, then SHE wouldn't stop yelling at me about it, says if I did that with your uncle you'd probably get booted out. It'd be an improvement, really, but I don't want to get you in trouble. That's the same reason I told mum not to send you something by Muggle post, so I figured I'd give Pig a workout and send you a letter with him. Told him not to be seen, to just go to your room when no one was around, but I dunno if he'll be any good at following instructions like that, I have a hard enough time keeping him from trying to sleep on my face.
Harry looked with some amusement at the little owl zooming around the light fixture. "Pig" indeed. And what was that about sleeping on Ron's face? Just the image had Harry laughing internally.
Anyway, Harry, go ask the muggles if you can go, and if they say yes send Pig back with the answer and we'll come pick you up at five o'clock on Sunday. If they say no send Pig back and we'll come and pick you up at five o'clock on Sunday anyway.
Hermione's arriving later this afternoon. Percy's started work – Department of International Magical Cooperation. While you're here don't mention anything about Abroad unless you want the pants bored off you.
See you soon,
Ron.
Harry grinned lightly; it looked like his vacation from the magical world was coming to an end soon, but the way of it would at least be pleasant, again. "Well, Pig, guess I'd best get it over with. I'll ask them, send you back with their answer, and start cleaning."
'Pig' heard this and was nearly sent into a true frenzy, "YAY! Another new job! I get to carry letters and fly around and it'll be hard but it'll be good I get to carry letters again! I can't wait, I love flying and I love working, this is the best day of my life! Maybe I'll-"
Hedwig seemed to sigh with discontent at the display, turning her head so she wouldn't have to see it as Harry chuckled, heading out of the room for what would promise to be a real battle of wits, with him facing an unarmed man.
He found the Dursleys in their normal places; Dudley was in his room, killing zombies on his new PlayStation, Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen fussing over a sheet of paper with Dudley's diet plan on it, and Uncle Vernon was in the Living Room watching something loud on the television, something involving cars if Harry judged the noise correctly.
Harry quietly crept up to stand beside his uncle's chair, waiting for a few moments for Vernon to notice him on his own. Once he had the large, purpling man sneered, "And what do you want?"
"I need to ask if it's alright to leave early this year."
Vernon seemed to snort, "And why would I allow you to do that?"
Harry shrugged, "Don't know, but I was hoping to get to see my Godfather before going back to school; he's probably going to see me either way, says the letters aren't enough, I suppose."
Vernon actually purpled a little bit more, eyes flashing dangerously as he sneered, spittle coming from between his tightly clenched teeth, "And... when will you be leaving?"
Harry nodded, "Monday at five is when they're going to pick me up."
Vernon seemed to consider this for a moment, a look of distaste in his eyes as he did so until he suddenly, slowly smiled, "Well then you'd best get packed right away; the rest of us will be leaving for London for a few days, and you'll be staying with Mrs. Figg until they come get you, understood?"
Harry's heart thumped a bit in his chest, having not quite expected that one, "Yes, sir."
"Go, you're making me miss my program." Harry nodded and quietly slipped out, returning to his room where he quickly scribbled up a note for Ron.
Ron, they said I can go, but they're sending me to Mrs. Figg's to wait for you; she lives right next door, okay? -Harry
He then folded up the note and gave it to Pig, "Take this right to Ron, alright?"
"Yes mister! Yes mister, I'm going! I'm working, here I go!" The little owl then zoomed out the open window and quickly disappeared against the sky.
Harry then wrote up a second, slightly longer letter to Sirius-
Sirius,
I'm going to be going to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys in a couple of days. Then I'll be living with them for the rest of the summer if you need to contact me.
Harry
He folded this letter up and gave it to Hedwig, "Now take this straight to Sirius, and then I'll be with the Weasleys when you come back, alright?"
"Of course." Hedwig nipped his finger affectionately and then quietly flew off, expressing an extra layer of decorum as though showing how the owl post was Supposed to be carried out.
He then set out to clean up all his things and be ready to leave by that afternoon; he could sense Uncle Vernon talking to Aunt Petunia already, and though Petunia was whispering hushed things in a heated tone, Vernon was abstinent. Harry reasoned that, Quidditch Cup or not, he didn't want to be around when a family of wand-wavers showed up.
"Wow, so he's a Kneazle? My friend Hermione's got a cat, name's Crookshanks, and he's half Kneazle. They're pretty hard to get, though, aren't they?"
Mrs. Figg nodded with a small smile, "Of course they are, but I suppose now you know why I was always so proud to have him. I think I told you already that his mum belongs to my sister, I suppose I just never told you she lived in Hogsmeade."
"Really? Why are you living in Surrey then? Not a very interesting place to live for a witch."
Mrs. Figg flushed, an unhappy, embarrassed, almost shamed look crossing her face as she looked away, "Well I was actually meant to keep an eye on you for Dumbledore, to be sure the Muggles didn't... do anything they shouldn't have. But I'm not actually a witch, I'm a Squib. It means my parents were both magical, but I'm not myself."
Harry's eyes suddenly unfocused, suddenly seeming miles away, "Huh... wonder how that works..."
Mrs. Figg sighed, "There's nothing to be done for it, now, what time is it? I suppose it's almost time to start your supper; and remember, if they inquire, you had a miserable time here, alright? They'll stop sending you to me if they think you liked it."
Harry grinned, "Of course. So are you and Professor Dumbledore pretty close?"
She smiled a small smile, "We keep in touch. Professor Trelawney get off the table!" She approached the dining table in something of a huff, driving off a lanky brown female cat with specks of green on its head, named after a certain Professor at Hogwarts.
"I had Professor Trelawney last year." Harry smiled softly in remembrance, "I won't be taking Divination this year, though. Switched to Arithmancy."
Mrs. Figg nodded, giving the rest of her cats a lazy, daring eye, "Yes, I can imagine; she probably prophesied your death on a daily basis, didn't she? Haven't had much contact myself, spent more time in Potions than anywhere else."
Harry looked at the woman oddly, "You went to Hogwarts?"
She sighed, moving off to the kitchen, "Yes, well." She entered the kitchen and stopped talking long enough to hiss something to another one of her many cats, something that sounded a bit too much like "Get off her!", bang some pots about and return, "Yes, I went to Hogwarts, but I wasn't 'accepted' as most are; I was able to afford to simply take a few classes, those few that Squibs are able to do such as potions and Care of Magical Creatures. Speaking of, I hear your friend Hagrid has taken on that particular role?"
Harry grinned, "Yeah, he's brilliant, too."
She smiled, "Well, say what you will but the man cares more than nearly anyone else I know."
Nodding, Harry reached out to scratch the head of a nearby orange tabby cat, "Malfoy doesn't make it easy, though; most of the year it seemed like he was trying to get Hagrid sacked."
"Wouldn't surprise me. Oh that's the tea." She returned from the kitchen a few moments later with a full setting of tea in shining silver, one of the few shiny things in the whole house, as the rest of it was very dark and often downright dirty, "Well help yourself, I'm going to be working for the next few minutes." She then scurried off to the kitchen where she spent the next half-hour calling to her 'babies' and feeding them with what seemed like hundreds of cans of cat food, much of which gave off smells that Harry picked up on, which threatened to drive him mad with hunger.
Mrs. Figg returned from the kitchen to find Harry trying to sneak a look inside, which made her raise an eyebrow, "Hungry, dear?" Harry had the decency to blush, nodding, "Well it'll be only a few more minutes. Wasn't sure what to make, so I hope you like it."
"I'm sure I will."
Mrs. Figg nodded and looked around the room, "Well, I suppose if you're leaving again tomorrow there's no point in putting your things away; I'll just find a blanket to put over it all to keep the hairs out. I love them all to death, but cat hair is almost impossible to get out without magic." Harry only nodded, still sneaking looks toward the kitchen. "Get off of there! Honestly, going to get hair in that owl's cage. Beautiful thing, by the way Harry. What's her name?"
"Hedwig. Hagrid gave her to me."
She smiled lightly, "Beautiful name for a beautiful owl. Now then, I'll be right back."
Harry nodded absently and a few minutes later Mrs. Figg came from the kitchen carrying a tray of several bowls, including one very large bowl filled with some sort of meat hash covered in melted cheese with corn chips sticking out of it, "Got this from a relation overseas; calls it 'Tex Mex', which I suppose means it comes from where Texico and Mexas are."
Harry laughed, "Texas and Mexico. It smells really good, but how do you eat it?"
After a minute of learning about how to properly hold the chips, scoop up the salsa and extra cheese, and an admission that he could simply use a fork or spoon to eat it however he wanted, Harry dug in and smiled; it was pretty good!
That night he slept in a guest room where an old portrait of Mrs. Figg's mother was hung; apparently the old portrait had wanted to talk to him so badly over the years, but was forbidden. The two of them talked for quite some time until Harry was told to turn out the light.
The next day Harry simply found himself feeling a bit shut in, so he passed some time with his technology book and some random experimentation. Mrs. Figg was interested in the experiments, largely owing to her common use of them, but admitted that it was all very far beyond her understanding; she held no hope at all of understanding how a bunch of wire can pick words out of the air without even a little bit of magic.
"Oh, I was thinking about that, but I don't want to look it up until I get back to Hogwarts. But I think electricity might be a sort of magic, which would explain why it doesn't work right in Hogwarts!"
She frowned, "So... Muggles are using magic?"
Harry shrugged, "Sort of, maybe. Most Lodestones are really just natural magnets, so Muggles make Lodestones that are dozens of times more powerful than the best natural ones every day in big factories. Though I wonder if maybe there might be something missing from them." Harry shrugged noncommittally, vowing to put more thought into the possibility at a later date.
As time went marching forward Lunch came and went, Harry continued reading and trying to learn, he took a self-imposed test from the book; he learned about Capacitors and the different ways they worked and got an overview of how those workings affected the outcome in the final machine. By the time Five o'clock rolled around Harry was getting rather bored and had decided to lay off on the book for a bit, instead taking to lounging about on the couch, largely surrounded by cats.
Which, in fact, was the scene that Mr. Weasley walked in on when the fireplace suddenly flared to life; he was followed by Fred and George, then by Ron. Mr. Weasley smiled almost conspiratorially before saying, in a carrying voice, "Well, are you ready to go then?"
Harry opened an eye to look at Mr. Weasley, yawned, then rolled into a sitting position before standing, stretching lazily, then giving the Weasley family a slow look, "Nnn? 'S five already?"
Fred laughed, "Yeah, been sleeping long?"
Harry shrugged, "Not too long, anyways my things are under that cloak in the corner; keeps the hair out I guess." He walked over and pulled the cloak off, folding it up before leaving it on a nearby table as the twins strode up beside him, each taking one end of his trunk in hand.
"Ready Gred?" "Certainly Feorge." And with that they lifted it, "Meet you at-" "-our place, Harry." And with that they were off, walking through the Fireplace, which was likely still 'dialed' to The Burrow.
Ron rolled his eyes as Mr. Weasley chuckled, "Well can't say as I can argue; if the Muggles had stuck around those two would have likely tried to prank them. Been driving their mother batty with plans to open some sort of joke shop after they graduate; don't be too surprised if you hear her yelling at them about it."
Ron rolled his eyes as he picked Hedwig's cage up from the floor, "Hey, where's Hedwig?"
"Off delivering a letter. She's pretty fast, though, so I wouldn't be surprised if she's already on her way back."
With a grin and shake of the head, Ron picked up a book that'd been left under the cage, giving it an odd look, "What's this? Looks pretty old."
Harry laughed, "It's not, was published year before last. It's a Beginner's Guide in Muggle electrical engineering; been reading it all summer." Harry gave an amused look to Mr. Weasley, who was eying the book curiously, "Which reminds me, when we get to your place I've got a few things I want to show you."
If at all possible the curious look on Mr. Weasley's face was amplified nearly ten times, "Do you now? Best get a move on, then!"
A voice from the stairs nearby stopped him, though, "Going without even saying hello, Arthur?"
Mr. Weasley stiffened slightly, then seemed to loosen into a nervous laugh, "Ah! Bella, how are you? I trust life in Surrey is to your liking?"
"I suppose you could say that." She gave the man a dry look, "And how is your 'government' work going?"
"Haha, well, I've been busy enough lately, with all that's been going on."
"I see. And the Ministry rewarded you with tickets to this 'game' of yours, then?"
"Ah, I suppose you could say that; I'd have tried to get them on my own, of course, but I suppose Fudge is apologizing for all the circles we've all been running after Sirius Black."
"I see. And when were you planning on telling me about this?"
"Well I only just now got your Fireplace reconnected to the Floo network..."
"Well in the future I'd appreciate it if you, any of you, could manage to think of me from time to time. Goodness knows I could afford to get out of the house from time to time! Honestly, Arthur, if not for Dumbledore I might've been convinced the rest of the world had just dropped off the map!"
Ron sidled up beside Harry as the two of them watched the exchange, "So, Harry, how's it goin'?"
"Not too bad. Kinda liked getting away for a while, but I'm looking forward to seeing a professional game for the first time."
Ron grinned brightly, "Yeah, it's gonna be a blast; Professional teams are nothing like the ones at school. Even the worst Professionals could pick the best team Hogwarts has to pieces without even trying. I'm telling you, they've even all got Firebolts, so it'll go in a flash, just like that!"
Harry chuckled, "Wish I could come and go in a 'Flash'." He laughed as Ron gave him an odd look, taking a moment for the reference to sink in.
"Oh, right. Still, I bet we'll have a hard time just watching it without missing something; I can't wait!"
Right about then Mrs. Figg came into the room, carrying her silver platter of silver tea settings, "Well I can't have you leave without at least a bit of tea."
"Oh but I couldn't possibly stay around for too much longer when I've already set the Twins off."
Mrs. Figg nodded decisively, "Well then take it with you, all of it. You can give Molly some as well, and whoever else wants any."
Ron blinked at this, "But what about the cups?"
She smiled lightly, "Oh don't worry about that, dear, I'm sure they'll make it back here eventually."
Mr. Weasley sighed with a light shake of the head, "Alright I'll take it with me, just don't expect Molly to have any; you know how she is. I expect the twins might have some just to annoy their mother, of course, but I just know I'm never going to hear the end of it for this."
"Oh don't worry about that, and Arthur..." Mrs. Figg pulled the younger man to a huddle, where she whispered at a low volume into his ear, "Make sure Harry has some; he hasn't had a drop since coming over." Harry reckoned that she was trying to keep this bit a secret from him, but he heard it just fine, grimacing at the woman's conspiratorial tone.
"Right, well alright, I'll be sure to take care of it. Off we go, then! Ron, you got what you need? Harry all cleaned up? Good!" Mr. Weasley pulled a pouch from his robe and extracted a pinch of powder from it, throwing it in the fire while saying clearly, "The Burrow!" He then took the setting from Mrs. Figg with a nod before gesturing the boys through the now green flames, "Go on ahead, I'll be right behind."
Ron pulled his friend through with hardly a roll of the eyes, Harry reluctantly following.
Harry hadn't had good luck with the Floo network so far, and this journey, while perhaps a bit more stable, didn't disappoint too much, as the headache it gave him was enough to make him feel as though he were spinning and falling at the same time, even though he knew, logically, that he was standing on ground quite firm. He only just managed not to fall on his face, though he was at least able to remember to get out of the way before Mr. Weasley came through after him.
He'd just barely gotten his bearings before Mrs. Weasley was upon him, almost crushing him with a strong hug, "Oh Harry! It's good to see you again, I was almost afraid the Floo had closed forever, what took you so long?"
Mr. Weasley came through, looking chagrined, "Arabella, apparently, wanted to have a chat with me. I'm sorry, Molly, I tried to say no but you know how she is." He held up the tea setting, the sight of which caused his wife to go into a dreadful huff, nearly running her into a storm of complaints.
"Honestly! That woman, sending her entire setting to another woman's house? I don't know what sort of manners they taught in her day, but, ohhh!" She sighed, "Arthur pour me a cup."
It took a moment for this to process, and then Harry frowned with confusion and looked at the Weasley Matriarch, "Wait, what?"
Mrs. Weasley nodded decisively, "Well it's not in very good taste, but she does make rather good tea." She then looked Harry over as Mr. Weasley poured a bit of tea into one of the cups, shaking his head slowly, "Speaking of, I dare say you need more than tea in you, Harry; you're dreadfully thin, haven't those Muggles been feeding you?"
Harry grinned, "Dudley's on a diet, so the rest of us are as well. I got more from that cake you sent for my birthday than for every meal all month."
This had the expected result of Mrs. Weasley going into a momentary uproar over 'those horrible Muggles' and her retreat to the kitchen, muttering about extra portions as Ron gave Harry a disturbed look.
"You do realize she's going to be stuffing you silly now, right?" Harry only laughed.
Supper that night had to be held in the garden, as the addition of Hermione, Harry, and the eldest Weasley brothers Bill and Charlie, both of whom had shown up for a visit, made it so that there were simply too many people for the dining room to hold all at once.
Though it was truly the first time he'd ever met them, Harry really felt as though he'd known Bill and Charlie for his entire life; true he didn't have the same level of camaraderie as they did amongst their own family, but being with them was far more comfortable than it ever had between he and the Dursleys. Charlie was a bit more stockily built than Ron or Percy, both of whom were long and lanky, and his hands were calloused from hard work, burn marks on his arms and the smell of smoke in his hair; it was obvious that he was the brother who worked with dragons, and thus there was no mistaking him for anyone else.
The eldest brother, however, wasn't exactly what Harry had been expecting; when he'd heard Bill described he'd always drawn comparisons to Percy: Bill had been Head Boy, just like Percy. Bill had gotten very high marks, like Percy. Bill had gone on to have an important post with Gringotts, where Percy had taken a post in the Ministry of Magic.
But unlike Percy, the words 'joke' and 'laugh' actually had meaning to Bill, and even more unlike Percy Bill's dress was... well, cool, relaxed, and in the face of their mother, his ponytail was downright rebellious.
"And I wish he'd cut it, it's undignified!"
"I love you too, mum."
"Well can't you at least take off that silly earring?"
"Sorry mum, but I'm afraid they wouldn't recognize me if I took it off!" He sighed dramatically, "Then I'd be out on the street! Begging and crying, oh the shame of it! Fired because of an earring!"
"Fine, be that way, but you can't say I didn't warn you; you'll never be married at this rate!"
Bill grinned with a small laugh, "But mum, haven't you heard? Girls dig the rebellious man these days! I can hardly keep them at arms length anymore!" Harry laughed, picturing Bill standing out in the middle of the street fighting with all his might to keep a throng of girls from burying him in a pile of hair and twisted legs.
Of course, he then lost that battle and was buried in a pile of hair and twisted legs, which quickly mutated to a very... odd scene...
The curious look that Bill gave him when he saw Harry's expression finally snapped him from his imaginings, and in response he was only able to shrug and shake his head back and forth, as though banishing the thought. Bill didn't seem curious enough to press further, so Harry was saved from having to explain why he had nearly had a rampaging blob of hair and legs going through the countryside of his mind, terrorizing imaginary farmers and generally being a nuisance.
There was other talk at the tables, of course, but Harry had no mind for thin-bottomed cauldrons or that 'other thing' that Percy was going on about, and though the talk about how the various Quidditch teams had fared that year was interesting, and quite informative for Harry, who'd been holed up in the Dursleys for the whole summer up to that point, he still couldn't help but feel a bit anxious.
"So what've you been up to all summer, Harry?"
Finally, the question of the day and Harry's grin told it all, "I've, er, been studying." He wasn't sure, but being coy about it seemed right at just that moment.
"Really? Been keeping up on your homework then?"
Suddenly he felt almost ashamed, "Er, not from, that is, not studying magic."
Bill, for some reason, seemed to be the one most curious, "Oh really?" He leaned forward, crooking his hands together as a curious smile played across his lips, "Then what were you studying?"
Harry smiled easily, looking Bill straight in the eye as he said, in a straight, matter-of-fact tone, "Electrical Engineering."
To Bill and Percy the only word that had made sense was 'Engineering', which to them meant 'hard, complicated work'; Mr. Weasley understood the 'electrical' part, but Hermione picked up on the whole thing, "What? Harry, what do you mean, electrical engineering?"
Harry chuckled, "Well, I've got a radio I made from bits of wire and a pencil, and a weird device that I'm not really sure how to call; I'd have to show you it."
Mr. Weasley's eyes brightened at the mention of a radio, but for the most part Harry's declaration was met with odd, dubious looks from all quarters, "So, Harry," Mr. Weasley licked his mouth, as though incredibly thirsty for something and too nervous to say so, "This... radio of yours, you have it with you?"
Harry grinned, "May I be excused for a moment?"
Mrs. Weasley sighed, recognizing the look in her husband's eye, "Of course, dear." Harry left for the house, quickly returning with armfuls of odd knick-knacks that almost made Mr. Weasley go into a frenzy.
Harry placed one thing, a board carrying bits and pieces that wouldn't look out of place in a garbage bin, on the table. The rest he put on his abandoned chair, devoting his attention to the radio, "I haven't had a chance to get it out here, so I don't know if the magic here will interfere with it but back at the Dursleys I listened all one afternoon to some show about some guy in the streets, who was carrying around a sign saying 'the end is near' and apparently disrupting traffic." He chuckled as Ron rolled his eyes as Harry stuck a little speaker up close to his ear, playing with what looked like the broken-off end of an old yellow pencil.
"Harry what is all this junk? Why are you carryin' this around with you?"
Harry shrugged, "Well I'm part wizard, but I figure I also kind of live in the Muggle world, so I ought to learn about stuff in the Muggle world, too."
Hermione flashed a smile, which didn't disappear even when she gave her friend a concerned look, "But Harry couldn't you have learned something a little less... well, complicated?"
Ron snorted, "Says Miss Overachiever." Hermione only huffed in response as Mr. Weasley came to huddle around Harry, who shook his head.
"I dunno, Hermione, but the Dursleys had me picking up Dudley's broken PlayStation and looking at it, I dunno, guess I just wanted to learn about this kind of thing." He smiled as he gingerly pressed the pencil point to a small section of the razor blade and heard, very faintly, an almost imperceptible voice; after a few more ginger pressings he found the 'sweet spot', as it were, and was able to hear the voice quite clearly; something about someone clearing out a forest for something. "There we go!"
Mr. Weasley was practically beside himself as Bill and Charlie tried to act suitably interested, "Can, can I have a go?"
Harry nodded, "It's pretty sensitive, but it works; the book says soldiers used to make them out in their Foxholes to pass the time. I think it's impressive they could make something that works so well while they're being shot at just from ripping some wires out of broken down trucks and some broken stationary." He laughed at the thought; those guys were pretty resourceful.
Mr. Weasley put his ear to the speaker and his eyes widened when he heard the voices, "Marvelous! And not even a lick of magic?"
"No more than any Muggle could use. It hasn't got an amplifier so it's pretty hard to hear-"
"No no! This is incredible! I was never able to get any of the radios I've got to work! I could never figure them out! And here you've made one!"
Harry grinned, "And here's some of that other stuff," He picked up a pile of things barely held in what looked like a big gray box, "This is what's left of Dudley's PlayStation. I think it's still too complicated for me to try to fix, but I thought you might get a kick out of it, even if it doesn't work."
Hermione looked at the pile of stuff as Mr. Weasley hovered excitedly over it, "Harry, what do you mean, 'PlayStation'?"
Harry grinned, "It's a sort of computer you play games on. Thing is they aren't in stores yet; Uncle Vernon bullied some overseas fellow to send him one ahead of time, then Dudley goes and throws it out the window because he was mad about his diet."
"So this, this-" Mr. Weasley pointed at the wreckage with a shaking, excited finger, "This is an 'IBM'?"
Harry shrugged, "I bet they've got a hand in it, but it's mostly Sony, I think. Like this piece here?" He sifted through the hundreds of little transistors and resistors and other little doo-dads, finally picking one out to show Mr. Weasley, "This one is by 'Mitsubishi', and that one is made by some company I couldn't read 'cause the name's just a bunch of squiggly lines, and this other one was broken in half and I never found the other one, but it starts with the copyright symbol so it's got to be important somehow."
Fred and George rolled their eyes as they spoke in teasing tones, "Great, just what the world needs," "Another Dad." "The wizarding world will," "Never be the same."
Charlie grinned, "Yeah, instead it'll be buried in wire and piles of batteries, right?"
Mr. Weasley blushed, "Hey, I collect batteries, is there anything wrong with that?"
Suddenly Harry perked up, "Are any of them still any good?" The sudden question made Mr. Weasley jump a bit in surprise.
"Any good at what?"
"Do they still have any juice."
"Well, I guess some of them probably have juice in them, but I was never able to figure out what it was for." Hermione sighed in exasperation.
"He means do they still have power in them. Where did you get them? Did you buy them, or did you find them in the trash or something?"
Mr. Weasley though, "Well most of them I got out of old radios, but I suppose most of them had been thrown away."
Harry nodded, "Maybe that's why your radios didn't work, if the batteries were dead they couldn't make them run."
Ron gave Harry a queer look, "Harry, they aren't alive to begin with, and I don't think those things are Supposed to run anywhere." Harry only laughed as Mr. Weasley looked around a bit.
"So, d'you suppose if I got some, ah, alive batteries then the radios might work?"
Harry's face took on a gleam not unlike that of Mr. Weasley's, "Can I see them?" The two them went off in search of Mr. Weasley's workshop.
At the head of the table, Molly Weasley sighed with exasperation, "Oh, Arthur."
Bill laughed aloud, "Hey, don't worry mum, I'm sure Harry won't be bringing any Muggle neighbors over for visits like dad used to."
Charlie laughed in response, "Yeah, he's got his own place for that." Mrs. Weasley only sighed, looking very defeated as the rest of the table reacted in their own ways, largely resulting in a group sigh.
That night found Harry playing with his things, along with a few bits and pieces donated to him by Mr. Weasley, including a large motor that he said had once been part of an old car; apparently it hadn't fit in the Anglia so he had simply kept it, along with a spare car battery that'd been half drained of its acid and was no longer any good. Harry suspected it might be too dangerous to do anything with the battery until he had a better idea of what he was doing, but the motor was something he was glad for.
He attached a big cranking handle to it, hooked its terminals to some wires with light bulbs and things strung together, and gave it a few good turns; the bulbs lit up, and then burst.
'Too much juice, then. Bet this is twelve volts, but I can only guess at the amps. Do I have any twelve volt bulbs?' He inspected the bulbs he'd strung to the motor and winced at one that'd burned to a particularly thick black, the glass almost looking like it would burst, 'Wow, no wonder.' He inspected it and found the ratings etched minutely on the glass, 'Three volts. Probably vaporized the filament.'
After rummaging around a little longer he found several small bulbs rated at twelve volts, strung them up, and cranked the motor; they all lit up and gave Harry quite a grin. True they weren't getting very bright, but as he was currently cranking the motor by hand he imagined that faster cranking would be the ticket.
Ideas forming, he found a tablet of paper he'd 'borrowed' from an old cupboard outside the Dursley's Living Room, opened it to a fresh page and started scribbling away, numbers and symbols appearing on the page almost as though by magic as his hand flew across the page.
The notebook itself was fairly old, having been bought just when Dudley was first being sent off to school; Aunt Petunia had been convinced that they needed to be prepared for her 'Bright Little Boy's education, and thus had bought nearly an entire drawer-full of College-Ruled paper, most of which had been used as spit-wad material. Still, the forgotten nature of Dudley's old supplies meant that the Dursleys wouldn't notice them being gone, so Harry couldn't argue over the pointlessness of it.
"Harry?" Ron approached from the rear, rubbing his eyes sleepily and eying his projects, "What are you doing down here? You can't be serious about that stuff!"
Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah, Ron, I'm serious. And this is a motor I'm using as a generator; it's twelve volts, and I'm trying to figure out the amps so I can figure out what kind of transformers I'd need. Way I think it works is the faster I crank it the more amps it's got, so I'm trying to use how it's rated to figure out how many cranks per minute makes how many amps. Problem is I can't just crank it at one speed for very long, but I figure building it for the maximum should work."
Ron stared at Harry for a minute, gave his open notebook a long, tired stare, then decided he wasn't smart enough to understand his friend anymore and shook his head, "Whatever mate, just so long as you get back to normal when we go back to Hogwarts."
Harry laughed, "Yeah, but I'll just be trading Electrical Engineering for Arithmancy."
Ron snorted, crossing his arms haughtily, "Hey, I'm not smart enough to understand either one, but at least I know what Arithmancy is for! This stuff is, is..."
"The basis for the Muggle answer to Magic."
Ron threw his arms out, "Exactly! Harry, you've already got magic! Why d'you wanna do it the Muggle way, too?"
Harry grinned, "Because I can. And besides, you have to respect the Muggles who came up with this stuff."
"What? Why?"
Harry nodded, looking over his calculations with something of a level of reverence, "Cause Magic is something any teenager can do. This stuff takes a whole lot more smarts than most wizards have just to be able to toy with, let alone make major advancements with. Magic took thousands of years to get where it is, but the Muggles have almost caught up, and in some ways even gone far past Wizards in hardly a couple hundred years." He was silent for a moment, just staring at the stuff around him as he stood up; then with a sigh he looked at Ron, "Ron. The Wizarding World used to be closed in just because the Muggles weren't very dangerous; there were more of them, of course, but short of burning a witch or two there wasn't much they could do. Now they've got ways to preserve memories that magic would try to erase, and can send word to every other Muggle in the entire world inside a few seconds. Photos cross the world almost as fast, radio is so easy to get to that anyone with a bit of wire and some trash can listen in. It..."
Harry shook his head, giving his things a slow, almost sad look, "Wizards stayed secret for an awful long time, but it's time they stopped being so paranoid. Because if they try to stay this secret for much longer they'll be found out eventually, and they'll be in far more trouble for having kept it secret than if they just came out and told everyone right off. Hagrid says we don't tell them 'Because then everybody'd be wantin' magical solutions to their problems!', and maybe they would. But if we don't tell them and they find out?"
Ron was quiet for a minute, just staring at Harry, "Harry, I don't know... do you really think it'd be a good idea? 'Cause you know nobody would go for it. It wouldn't matter how famous you were, you could never convince the Ministry to just come out and drop it all..."
Harry laughed weakly, "Ron, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying... Ron, the Muggles double their abilities every few years; who's to say where they'll be in ten years? In twenty years any Muggle house will be easier to live in than an old wizarding mansion, and it won't be very long after that when Muggleborns would start leaving Hogwarts because it's too old fashioned... Things have to change, Ron, because if they don't either there'll be a war, and there will be if things don't change, or Magic itself will just sort of... stop."
Ron rolled his eyes, "C'mon, Harry, I know there's a lot more Muggles than Wizards, but what could they really do?"
Harry looked at his things for a moment before sighing, "Hiroshima and Nagasaki weren't destroyed by magic, Ron. And I'm not sure if a flock of dragons would stand a chance against a few fighter jets; thick hides or not a good pilot would pick them to pieces." Harry gave Ron a forlorn look, "It's a dangerous game, Ron. Right now we're keeping things from blowing up by hiding, and we're still hiding. So what happens when we can't hide anymore?"
Ron was almost getting agitated now, "But the Muggles won't find out! Even if they do see something the Ministry just removes their memory of it, remember? No problem!"
Harry sighed, starting to pick his stuff up, "Yes, but it won't be long until Muggle technology is so advanced that memory charms Just. Won't. Work on them anymore. Everything they see will be seen by everybody in the world. People in china will watch dragons fly over Ireland. Satellites will point out all the places that Muggle maps don't show, and actually be able to point them to the places they aren't supposed to be able to go. If they get too suspicious they could just bomb it..." He looked his things over as he placed them reverently in his trunk, "There's got to be some common ground, Ron, and the less the Wizarding world keeps up, the greater the chances are that things will go bad. And right now they would go very bad; all the stuff you don't understand would make you look... well, stupid to a lot of Muggles, no matter what you could do with a potion. I can't show magic to the Muggles, but maybe if we can get more Muggle stuff in the Wizard world, that might lighten the blow when it comes."
Ron reddened a little bit, "Hey, I'm not stupid!"
Harry rolled his eyes, giving his friend a grin, "Ron, you thought that a battery would make a radio grow legs and run away; if you said that in front of a bunch of Muggles they'd think you escaped from the Loony Bin."
Ron crossed his arms, blushing a little bit, "Hey, it's not my fault I didn't know!"
"Exactly." Harry stood up and started walking toward the room he'd be sharing with Ron, "You don't know, so you don't know how it could be worth it. I wanna show how it's worth it, and then maybe we can start working on the bigger problems. So, I'm gonna work on it. Who knows? Maybe we could end up working together someday?"
Ron rolled his eyes, "Mate, you're goin' way over my head, but I wish you the best of luck. I reckon you're gonna need it." Harry only laughed, not bothering to ask why Ron had gone down to see him at three in the morning.
End Chapter 9
In case you're curious, he needed a glass of water to settle his nerves; wasn't quite expecting what he got, though.
Honestly, neither was I; that whole scene just sort of... mutated out of control. That's where an author will complain about the characters rewriting the script at the last second, without consulting the one behind the keyboard. XD
Though after that, I'll bet you can probably discern my feelings on a few of the things commonplace in Harry's world. As far as I'm concerned, Memory Charms like Obliviate should be considered Unforgivable. Avada Kedavra removes the ability to defend, the Cruciatus is just absolute torture, the Imperius removes the ability to choose, and Obliviate removes the ability to know, itself a core component of the ability to choose. It's simply used far too... easily, nonchalantly... it just bugs me, and now it apparently bugs Harry as well. Blame his Mew-related Naiveté. As for his blabbermouth? Well, he just thinks so fast, he doesn't see any point in holding most things in, and Ron has always been his sounding board for when he wanted to complain, so the poor boy got drafted.
Well that's it for my rant of the week. (groan)
Next chapter will start them off to the Quidditch Cup. So, until later!
Edit: (8/8/2012) I know there was something I changed in here, but for the life of me I can't remember what. Removed some unnecessary stuff from the A/N as part of form.
Alex Ultra: From Normal to Nottingham
LATER