DISCLAIMER:
Y'all know the drill. PixelKind does not own the rights to Harry Potter or RWBY, and he ain't rich enough to buy em anytime soon.
[ACT 2]: Dead Man Talking
[CHAPTER 15]: Rest and Revelations
[ALTERNATIVELY]: In Which Rock Beats Both Paper And Harry's Pride As A Wizard
Harry eyed the small green Dust crystal sitting on the workbench before him with thinly veiled suspicion. It was mocking him, he was sure of it.
It all began earlier that week, when he'd finally decided to get a move on with his offer to Penny; he was going to make a Magic Item. He was starting simple; a basic Flame-Freezing charm embedded in an amulet.
After two days of slogging his way through the horrible ridiculous fake wizard math that was Arithmancy, he'd finally figured out the runes he needed. So as proof of concept, he carved them on a chunk of metal and threw it into the forge in the Beacon Workshop.
And watched as the past three days of work melted into a pile of molten disappointment.
After much experimenting, he finally figured out the problem; the charging matrix, the part that powered the enchantment, was designed to draw off the ambient magicks floating around Earth. Remnant, however, didn't have a bunch of wizardly idiots in silly hats running around shooting spells willy-nilly. There was no free-floating magical energy at all.
For someone more interested in multiverse theory, the development of universes, or the nature of magic itself, that revelation would be groundbreaking. But Harry's thought process went a little something like this:
'Well that's great, but how the heck am I supposed to power this thing?'
The answer, as it turned out, was "probably Dust."
After another day of torturous wizard math and two more of accidentally breaking (and exploding) crystals, he'd finally created the object in front of him: a Wind Dust crystal painstakingly engraved with runes designed to (hopefully) convert the energy stored within directly into magical energy.
He lifted the crystal with a pair of tweezers and carefully seated it in the prepared amulet. Once he was sure it was firmly anchored, he began to carve the rest of the enchantment onto the plain metal surface.
That was another interesting thing about Remnant; literally all of their science was based on Dust. They didn't have chemistry beyond refining Dust, their metallurgy revolved around Dust-based alloys, even their electronics didn't go beyond Dust conduits- which was good, because Harry knew magic tended to disrupt normal electronics.
But his point was that Dust Forged Steel was, from a magical perspective, an entirely different thing from Mundane Steel. Which meant enchantments wouldn't slide off of it like butter on a hot dog.
He carved the last rune and set the amulet down on the table, admiring his work. Not bad for a beginner, if he said so himself. But it didn't matter how neat it looked if it didn't work.
Weiss' head suddenly loomed over his shoulder, inspecting his creation. "What's that?"
Harry jumped, bonking her chin with his shoulder.. "Sweet Merciful Merlin, don't sneak up on me like that! If you'd done that earlier, we both could have exploded."
She rolled her eyes and massaged her jaw, Aura soothing her pain. "I'm not an idiot, I know not to startle someone working with Dust."
"Fair, fair." He stood up and dangled the amulet out towards her. "To answer your question, this thing is my… first and a half? Attempt at making magical items. First one was a dud and now I'm using Dust to power it. Wanna see if it works?"
Her eyebrows rose. "What's it supposed to do?"
He grinned and latched the amulet around the neck of a target mannequin, dropping the thing on a wheeled cart and kicking it out into the firing range area. "It's supposed to make the wearer immune to fire."
Her head tilted thoughtfully. "If it works, I can supply you the Dust if you want to make some for the whole team. It'd be a huge advantage in the Vytal Tournament."
He pulled out his wand and levelled it at the mannequin. "Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Incendio."
A bolt of fire flew from his wand. As it approached the target, the amulet flared and projected a shimmering field around the mannequin…
Which immediately caught fire. It was actually kind of impressive: a two inch thick layer of pure flame wrapped around the dummy, radiating enough heat to feel from all the way down the range.
Weiss sighed. "Never mind."
He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I shouldn't have used Wind Dust for that…"
She groaned.
Ruby put one foot on the table and pointed accusingly at Harry, a cylindrical package tucked under one arm. "Team PWBL!"
Harry blinked. "Yeah, that's us."
"Your nefarious plans won't work on me, Potter!"
Harry blinked again. "Excuse me?"
"Your dastardly plot to swipe the title of 'coolest team in Beacon' from its rightful holders has been foiled! Getting a team pet? How dastardly!"
Yang's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "You didn't."
Ruby grinned, a maniacal glint in her eyes. She held the package out in front of her, popping the lid off and shaking the contents out in front of them. "Checkmate."
The contents… were a dog. A black-and-white corgi with a dopey grin on its surprisingly expressive dog face, sitting placidly on the table in front of them.
Yang put her head in her hands. "I can't believe you got dad to send you Zwei."
Weiss tilted her head. "...Zwei?"
Yang nodded. "Our pet dog. He was supposed to be normal but Ruby unlocked his Aura during one of her ridiculous cookie heists and, well, things went downhill from there."
Rufus' head poked out from Harry's collar, staring at Zwei appraisingly. His tongue flicked out into the air. ~I smell a dog? Yeah, that's definitely a dog.~
Harry patted Rufus on his small scaly head. ~Good work, Detective Rufus.~
Rufus frowned and poked Harry's cheek with the tip of his tail. ~I also smell that guy that kicked your ass in the food fight.~
A hand clasped Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to meet eyes with… Fox Alistair, apparently.
Fox's voice echoed directly into Harry's head. "The boss wants to speak with you, kid."
Harry raised his eyebrows.
Fox… rolled his eyes? Probably? He didn't have pupils or irises so it was hard to tell, but that was the vibe Harry was getting. "My Semblance is one-way telepathy and I kinda wanna freak out your friends. Keep it a secret, though, or I'll blast shitty cereal jingles into your head nonstop whenever you're in range."
Harry nodded sagely. "I will safeguard it with my life."
Weiss blinked curiously. "What's going on? What are you talking about?"
Harry waved her off. "Just chatting with Fox." He turned back to his upperclassman. "So is 'the boss' Coco or did you take a side job with the mafia?"
Fox grinned. "Yeah, Coco wants to talk to you. Nice poker face, by the way."
Weiss opened her mouth again, so Harry quickly pressed his finger against her mouth and shushed her. "Thanks. You mean, like, now?"
He shrugged. "She said it wasn't particularly time-sensitive, but she'd prefer to talk by the end of tomorrow."
Harry nodded, thinking. "We have about an hour until our next class… Now is fine, I suppose. Where is she?"
"Here, I'll take you to her…" he trailed off. "Is… is that a dog?"
Harry followed Fox's finger to Ruby's dog. "As far as I am aware, yes, Zwei is a dog. Why do you ask?"
"I can use my Semblance on it."
Harry blinked. "Are you saying…?"
"I'm not supposed to be able to use my Semblance on animals."
Harry looked back at Zwei. "That is terrifying information that I do not know what to do with."
For the briefest of moments, Zwei's beady black eyes stopped reflecting the cafeteria around him, finally revealing the endless abyss that lay within. His goofy smile suddenly seemed a lot more ominous, somehow radiating sinister amusement without changing anything.
But before he could blink, everything was back to normal.
What the fuck.
"... I think I am going to talk to Ozpin after this."
Harry quickly nodded. "Please do so as soon as possible… I'll just text Coco, this is more important"
With a solemn nod, Fox Alistair turned and ran from the cafeteria. There was a moment of contemplation, before Weiss knocked Harry's hand away from her face.
"What the heck was that?"
Harry ignored her and turned to Yang. "Your dog's haunted."
Harry walked into the Beacon Library, eyes scanning the room for Coco's signature black beret. He spotted her sitting at a table near the far window, drinking a coffee and watching something on her Scroll. She looked up and waved him over. "Hey! How's life going for you?"
Harry shrugged and slipped into the seat across from her. "Eh, Ruby's dog is probably a demon in disguise but otherwise everything's fine. How about you?"
She sat back and sipped her coffee. "Pretty good. I know a decent exorcist from last year… he goes to Haven Academy in Mistral, but he should be here by now. Want me to send you his contact info?"
Harry nodded. "Oh, please. Out of curiosity, why did you need an exorcist last year?"
Coco waved her hand flippantly. "Velvet's weapon was haunted. Turned out she just took a picture of a Geist without noticing, and that was that. How's your team doing, by the way?"
Harry gave a thoughtful hum. "Everyone's doing pretty well, I guess. Oh, Blake's being kind of edgy- well, edgier than usual, which is actually kind of impressive."
Coco's head tilted. "Everyone has hobbies, right?"
Harry blinked. "Hobbies?"
She rolled her eyes. "Y'know, something to focus on besides the old hyperviolence… trust me, it gets really old really quick. If you can't think of anything to do, there's a big thread of clubs on the Beacon forum."
He frowned. "I… will look into that."
She nodded. "Do that. How're you doing on team fight training? Practicing against Team RRVN? They felt like a tricky bunch during the food fight."
Harry blinked again. "Team fight training?"
Coco stared at him, then sighed. "You're sure you're the leader of Team PWBL?"
He nodded. "Pretty sure. Ozpin said so, at least."
"How much actual leader-ing have you been doing?"
Harry thought for a moment.
She groaned and began massaging her temple. "The fact that you have to think about that tells me everything I need to know on that front…"
Harry frowned. "I mean, I thought we were doing rather well."
She eyed him, unimpressed. "Yeah, but what happens when you aren't? You have someone who isn't used to being in charge put on the spot, is what happens."
He looked down at the table. "Oh. I see."
She smirked and sipped her coffee. "Good news is, lots of teams here have to learn that through experience, so you're ahead of the curve now. Just be a good leader for your team and you'll be golden."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "...how?"
Coco blinked. "Come again?"
"How do I… you know, be a good leader?"
She shrugged. "Depends on your team, really. Step one is understanding them, step two is figuring out what kind of leader they need, step three is becoming that. Pretty simple- not easy, but simple."
He nodded. "I'll do my best."
Coco grinned widely. "Aren't you glad you have such a wonderful cool upperclassman to help you out?"
Harry felt a sudden sinking feeling in his gut. "...Yes?"
She leaned forwards, and her grin turned predatory. "Wanna know how you can pay her back?"
Ah. So they were getting to why she'd wanted to talk to him in the first place.
Jaune frowned thoughtfully as Diggle after Diggle bounced off his raised shield. Either these stupid bird things were weak as heck, or… something had changed. Had he finally levelled up? No, this wasn't a video game. Was it that Aura stuff? Did it do more than just glow?
He grinned and kicked a Diggle full-force in the chest, and was rewarded by a loud crunching sound as the small Grimm was flung across the cave. It was that Aura stuff! He was, like, super-powered now! Was this the secret to Huntsmen being able to run around with weapons twice as heavy as they were without breaking a sweat? Crocea Mors was a completely normal sword and shield (besides the shield collapsing into a sheathe which was cool as heck) and Jaune used to have trouble swinging even that.
He stuck his glowing sword in the air and cackled. "I AM JAUNE ARC, MASTER OF AURA AND WIELDER OF CROCEA MORS, THE YELLOW DEATH! BOW BEFORE ME, GRIMM, OR FACE MY WRATH!"
An answering roar echoed through the cavern. That… sounded like a very large Grimm.
Oh no.
Harry walked back into the Team PWBL dorm and sighed. "Ladies and… yeah, just Ladies of Team PWBL."
Yang looked up from her Scroll, Weiss closed her textbook, and Blake slid out from… under her bed? No, no, best not question it.
"You know the Vytal Tournament Ball? The one that Team CVFY was supposed to be running this year?"
Weiss blinked. "Yes, we are aware of it."
He slumped against the door. "Uh, Remedial Team Spirit Activity number… something… we have to set it up now. They'll be out on a mission and I owed Coco one."
Yang jumped from her bed and cheered. "Aw yeah! This party is gonna kick butt!"
Weiss frowned. "This is no mere school dance, Yang. This is a Ball, which implies at least some level of decorum."
Yang turned towards Harry, ignoring Weiss. "Hey, hey, can you magic up some smoke machines? And a disco ball? Ten disco balls?"
Harry blinked. "Yeah, sure, just tell me when and where."
She pumped her fist victoriously as Weiss groaned. "Yeehaw!"
Blake harrumphed and tried to slide back under her bed. Yang reached down, grabbed her leg, and pulled her back out. And dangled her upside-down by the leg. "Come on now, Blakey-poo, we get to run the Vytal Tournament Ball! How is that not cool?"
Blake frowned and turned away. "It's a waste of our time is what it is."
Harry sighed. "I mean, sure there are better things we could be doing, but it's not that bad, is it?"
She eyed him acidly. "Torchwick broke out and is right back to running around with the White Fang doing Oum knows what, and you're saying it's not that bad? There are literal terrorists on the loose and we're worrying about a school dance?"
Yang blinked and dropped Blake onto her bed. "We're, uh, kind of still students. And we spent like a month in hell detention because of the last time we tried doing something about it."
Harry stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Technically we only got put in hell detention because we were idiots about it."
Weiss looked at him in betrayal. "Harry, you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting, are you?"
He hummed thoughtfully. "Well, we still need to do the Ball. And pass our classes. And train. But I guess we could dedicate a little bit of time hunting down terrorists. It'll probably look good on our resumes."
Weiss sighed. "Fine. But we're being smart about it this time. No more running into situations unprepared. We need to gather intelligence and then we bring that intelligence to Ozpin, you hear me?"
Yang's eyes flicked back down to her scroll. "Speaking of intelligence, I still vote we kind of don't?"
Blake eyed her partner. "So you just want to sit back and relax while the White Fang runs around killing people?"
Yang tilted her head. "I mean, I don't want people to die, but this is super not our job. I know I'm outnumbered from a voting perspective, and I'll do my best if we do go, but this is a really not good idea."
Hmmmm. It was a strange day when Yang was the voice of caution. Was this a bad idea?
Step one: understand them.
Harry sat down on his bed, rethinking the situation. "We kicked their butts last time, right? Penny and Sun were with us, which kind of skewed it in our favor, but we still won handily. Nobody lost too much Aura, we captured Torchwick."
Yang sat down on Weiss' bed, sitting directly across from him. "Roman Torchwick is a professional criminal, Harry. He's not going to fall for the same trick again, and now that we've already kicked his butt he's not going to let it happen again."
He nodded slowly. "Right. We're talking about people with intelligence, not Grimm. This is a valid concern."
Blake opened her mouth to protest, but Harry raised a hand. "What if we did as Weiss suggested? A novel idea, I'm sure, but this time it's reasonable. Rather than directly trying to stop them, we simply investigate and bring our findings to someone who actually knows what they're doing? Minimize the risk of confrontation, while still doing something?"
Yang furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "Uncle Qrow does work with Ozpin sometimes… he probably would know what to do with information better than we would. Ozpin, not Qrow. Never Qrow."
Harry nodded decisively. "Is that a go for Remedial Team Spirit Activity number something-and-a-half?"
She grinned and saluted him. "You know it!"
Weiss stared between the two of them in incomprehension. "What was that?"
Harry stood up and solemnly put a hand on her shoulder. "I know, it's very shocking, but you did have a good idea for once."
[OMAKE #8] MageTide Part 3: A Warmaiden's Blades Shall Cleave The Wicked
Your eyes dart across the form of The Crimson Widow as it slowly advances across the grassy clearing. The Ancient Grimm spider is heavily carapaced, with very little of its pitch-black body exposed. The eight legs each end in wickedly sharp spears of bone that pierce into the ground, and on either side of its mandibles lay the fully articulated palps that take the form of massive cleavers as long as you are tall. Its eight glowing blood-red eyes cut through the half-light of the clearing.
Your cerulean Aura sizzles at the blades of your sabers, projecting an edge leagues sharper than any blacksmith could hope to form. This technique, Aura Honing, has a continuous drain on your reserves, but under the banner of your Semblance the loss is less than a drop of water against an ocean.
The Boneweaver lunges towards you, and you move.
Rolling under its mandibles, you strike upwards at the Grimm's neck. Your saber screeches noisily against the armor, and you notice its rearmost legs reach back towards its spinneret.
You leap to the side, narrowly avoiding the legs whipping forwards with a length of razor-sharp web stretched between them. Pushing more Aura into your Honing, you slash the inside joint of the frontmost leg, spraying the Grimm's black, tar-like blood across yourself.
It is no matter; the blood will soon dissolve, just like the rest of your foe.
The Crimson Widow screeches and backs away, keeping its body low to the ground. Its mandibles snap angrily, and it slowly begins to approach you. You grin, never breaking your stare.
This is the kind of fight you were looking for.
The palps whip forwards, massive cleavers swinging towards you from both sides. You could block them, but…
You flip backwards, landing feet-first against the pole of your battle standard. With a surge of Aura, you launch yourself forwards through the air. Focusing your Honing to the very tip of your blade, you plunge down, impaling the blade directly into the monstrous arachnid's skull.
It throws its head back and screams, tossing you behind it. How thick is its armor, that such a strike didn't kill it? Flipping through the air above the Grimm, you use your Aura to activate the Dust in another sheathed blade, blasting a knife into your newly empty off-hand.
You have an idea, but those cleavers have to go.
You run back in, circling around to meet the Grimm head-on. It spits furiously at you, lashing out with its blades. You brace your saber with your knife and flare your Aura, blocking the blow directly. It sends tremors down your body, but the massive cleaver is fully stopped. You quickly reach out with the knife and slash the inside joint, not managing to fully sever it but cutting deep enough to make it hang limp. One down.
You roll backwards to avoid a retaliatory blow as the Crimson Widow screams in pain and fury.
It charges you once more, and you run forwards to meet it. At the last moment, you drop, sliding down under its last attack and severing the second palp with your Honed saber.
Its mandibles thrash wildly and it slams its body against the ground in hopes of crushing you. You roll out of the way and jump to your feet.
Now that the path to its face is clear… you sheathe your saber and knife, instead drawing your rapier. You whip it through the air experimentally as you approach the Grimm's head.
You circle around it, slowly backing off, baiting it to charge you one last time. In its rage, it takes the bait.
Time slows down- or at least, your perception thereof.
You lunge with the rapier, Aura fizzling rapturously at the tip.
You pierce the eye, plunging the blade so deep into its head your elbow is against the eye socket. The impossibly dark ooze that is Grimm blood runs down your arm.
And The Crimson Widow falls limp.
With a disgusting squelch, you withdraw your arm and rapier from the skull of the massive Boneweaver. You have never before been this grateful for the fact that Grimm viscera dissolves on its own.
You hear a soft clapping from the treeline. Throckmorton Schnee stands there, Dust all but forgotten, as he applauds you with something like awe in his eyes and a smile on his lips. "Miss Arc… I do believe this will be a very fruitful partnership."
Your name is Noir Arc, and you just slew an Ancient Grimm with naught but your soul and the steel upon you. That feat alone should be enough to sate your desire for fame, but you won't stop here. You can't. Not until you've carved your name so deeply into history that they will sing it until the end of days.
You are Noir Arc. You are the Warmaiden. And your legacy starts here.
A/N: ok so first off, here's what that conversation with Fox looked like to everyone else
FOX: (puts hand on HARRY's shoulder)
HARRY: (turns around, raises eyebrow)
FOX: (stares)
HARRY: I will safeguard it with my life
WEISS: what's going on, what are you talking about?
HARRY: just chatting with Fox. (turns back to FOX) So is 'the boss' Coco or did you take a side job with the mafia?
FOX: (grins)
WEISS: (tries to talk)
HARRY: (shushes WEISS, leaves finger on her face) Thanks. You mean, like, now?
FOX: (stares)
HARRY: We have about an hour until our next class… Now is fine, I suppose. Where is she?
FOX: (pauses for a moment, points at ZWEI)
HARRY: As far as I am aware, yes, Zwei is a dog. Why do you ask?
FOX: (stares, with a hint of fear)
HARRY: Are you saying…
FOX: (stares at ZWEI)
HARRY: (turns to look at ZWEI as well) That is terrifying information that I do not know what to do with.
FOX: (continues to stare at the dog)
HARRY: Please do so as soon as possible… I'll just text Coco, this is more important
FOX: (nods, runs away)
WEISS: what the heck was that
HARRY: (turns to YANG) your dog's haunted
And now for the actual Author's Notes: Yeehaw! Harry's first, painful forays into Dust-based Artifice, Zwei shows up, Team PWBL gets shanghaied into running the Vytal Tournament Ball (wonder how that's gonna work out for Harry, we all remember the last Ball he attended), and now they're all back on their White Fang bullshit. At least they're going to be cautious about it, right?
...right?
Fun fact! I actually designed the basic principles of Arithmancy and was going to explain them in this chapter but then I realized I would regret releasing that crime against mathematics into the world. Rejoice, for the beast remains chained.
