i've seen several SI fics, some quite amusing and inventive. Thought of an approach i haven't seen, and so wrote a bit of it up in case it inspires anyone to give it a go. minor additions made 7/31/17 and for some reason the page break symbols keep get deleted.
I died.
Not an unusual event, all things considered. Once I did actually die though, memories of my life before began to fade. Understandable as memories were stored in the brain and it looked like I'd gotten mine spattered across a fair amount of pavement.
I couldn't even get angry at my killer, apparently not having a limbic system and floating above one's corpse could allow one a certain degree of detachment from the whole thing. Just another robbery, another death, another wrong time and wrong place and so on and so forth. That said, I wasn't going to immediately go hug my murderer and suggest a fine round of singing "Kum-bi-ya" or anything of the sort. I was still a bit put out by the whole thing and wasn't this terribly inconvenient. I still had so many books I wanted to read, one of which had been in my backpack and had just been thrown into the street by the murderer.
Well, now what? Clearly there was an afterlife, I'd been pretty sure there had been despite the lack of physical evidence. Nice to have one's theories validated, even if it was after one's final moments. Wouldn't exactly expect physical evidence though, not at our primitive level of technology considering that the early 21st Century in America still didn't even have the damn flying cars we'd been promised in earlier ages.
So, here I was. Waiting for the light to show up. Or the dark. To loosely paraphrase Will Rogers, I was rather hoping I would be sent to the good place and to truly be the good place - I was expecting to be reunited with at least one of my dogs. How could any version of heaven be properly heavenly if your best friend wasn't around?
As I drifted there, I became aware of a familiarity. I'd done this before. Which meant I might end up reincarnating? Well, hopefully things would go better than this last time. Fifty plus years of fail, pain, and making entirely the wrong step. Sure, in my chosen profession over the years I'd managed to help a lot of people and contributed to saving quite a few lives. Didn't pay worth a crap, and was stressful as all get out. No personal life unless you counted MMORPGs and I certainly didn't count those.
Ah. A tug. Good. I was being pulled from my current location. I was-
A test. A test to join the Reality Relief Office, an organization aligned with but seperate from the Heavenly Bureaucracy. A group of misfits that for one reason or another didn't make it or rejected Heaven and didn't deserve Hell.
Failure.
And now I was-
Great. I'm a magic item. A soul bound to a magical item to give it power and intelligence. A pseudo-life. A Mid-Childan Intelligent Device, something that combines an AI advanced computer with a magic wand and weapon/defense system. Okay, could be worse. At least I get to go on adventures and be of use - right?
I end up sitting on a shelf for a dozen years, fortunately my nature meant I could go to minimal power and just be vaguely aware of things. Then I was sold. And re-saled. Finally ended up with some cadet whose first Device had been busted in some misadventure. Just as I'm about to finally get used and be brought up to full activation...
I get dropped. Off the side of a ship that is cruising through parallel universes.
Well. This certainly sucks.
I snap to full awareness, though without a wielder that's going to drain my battery-equivalents fast.
Maybe I can influence my flight a bit. Find the threads like so, look for someone to wield me. I am way too freaking tired of being on a shelf. Someone with enough power to keep me going when my internal storage drains from the effort.
There. This universe has the markings of someone caught up in epic quests, magic, and the like.
Yes. Here's a typical Main Character or Protagonist. As a Mid-Childan Intelligent Device, all I need is the power of someone to tap into.
This one looks suitable.
Harry stared at the little gemstone. "Did you... talk?!"
[Confirmed.]
Harry took off his glasses, stared at them briefly, then put them back on. "What are you?"
[This unit is an Intelligent Device, code name 'Goemon'.]
Harry marveled at the way the computerized lettering just appeared on his glasses, remaining briefly before fading away. "So you're... some kind of computer I guess?"
[Affirmative.]
"You must be pretty valuable then. Who owns you?" asked Harry.
[You.]
"It can't be me," insisted Harry. "I'm just Harry Potter. I'm nobody."
[Harry Potter has magical core of sufficient power to maintain current level of operation.]
"But magic isn't real," said Harry.
[Harry Potter magical core insufficient at current development to manifest effects.]
"You're saying I can do magic but I haven't got enough magic to actually do anything?" Harry was skeptical, but this thin hope started building up within him despite himself. "What would I need to do to get more magic then?"
[Beginning magical core exercise program.]
Harry felt a slight pull on something, but couldn't tell what it was from. "That's you."
[Affirmative.]
"It doesn't feel like much actually," offered Harry. "I better hide you. My Aunt & Uncle don't like things that stand out."
Symbols wrote themselves and vanished across the lower part of his glasses briefly, to be replaced by a single word.
[Working.]
"What does that mean?" asked Harry.
[Using current low level drain on magical core to access databanks.]
"That isn't much clearer," pointed out the eight-year-old.
[Solution to problem found.]
[Expressing disbelief that Mid-Childan databank has ninjutsu section.]
[Working out means of translating chakra cost to local equivalent.]
[Using technique to hide Harry Potter impossible at current level.]
[Using technique to hide Goemon possible. Activating.]
"You just turned invisible but I can still feel you," said Harry, running his thumb over the odd gemstone. The potential applications of this ability, particularly when Dudley got his friends together for Harry-hunting, immediately struck him. "You say this exercise thing will make you eventually so you can make me entirely invisible?"
[Principal of magical exercise same as for physical training.]
[Use of magic drain followed by periods of rest should increase magical reserves.]
[Possible to use inertial field to stimulate physical development. Do?]
"Uhm, let's try it," suggested Harry. He immediately felt it, as if his body was surrounded by a slightly resistant presence. "Can you shut it off whenever I need to move faster?"
[Affirmative. Unable to maintain field in any case more than five minutes per hour.]
[This is due to both energy constraints and physical development of Master.]
"Don't call me 'Master', Goemon. I'm Harry," said Harry. "I suppose we'll see. There any way you can do it so you don't get lost?"
[Affirmative.]
*page break*
It had taken a year to get where he felt confident with the use of these abilities.
"Ninja art," whispered Harry as he touched the gemstone stuck to the inside of his glasses near one hinge. "Transparency."
[Ninpo: Touton Jutsu] read the acknowledgment from Goemon.
Harry lifted an arm as it shifted and went to slight prism effect near the edges.
[Technique upgrade available. Meisaigakure No Jutsu.]
Harry considered that, then discarded it. The spell, or jutsu or technique or whatever you wanted to call it, just caused him and everything he had with him to turn nearly invisible. It didn't do anything about hearing. Dogs could still smell him. If he walked through mud or snow - he'd leave tracks.
He watched as Dudley and his friends came running past him, coming to a stop a good five meters past his position.
"Damn it," said Dudley. "I told you. You can't let him get out of sight - he's too damn good at hiding."
"He wuns too fast," said one of Dudley's friends. Nigel Fudd. Someone who was even bigger than Dudley. Also someone who, at the unlikely age of ten years of age, was already looking as if he'd need to start shaving sometime soon. Also, due to a bit of a scar on his lips, someone who had trouble with 'r' sounds. "Like some wascally wabbit."
"Oi, Dudley, why are we even bothering with yer little cousin anyway? He's a bit of a challenge to find, but ain't we gots better things to do with our time?" asked the lanky-looking other member of Dudley's gang, taking a deep drag of a pilfered cigarette and then coughing horribly.
"And I'm telling you to lay off them clove cigarettes, we ain't no emo gang," said Dudley. "I'm a thief and a bully and a ne'er do well but you got to have SOME standards."
There came a sound as of the baying of some hound. A big one.
"Wha' tha hell was that?!" said Nigel.
"Just some dog," said Dudley.
Harry blinked as a new message popped up on the section of his glasses which normally served as Goemon's display.
[Warning: Hostile entity detected. Distance 600m. Scanning.]
Harry felt the slight drain on his magic increase a bit. A year ago that might have knocked him out, but he had made a lot of progress over that time.
[Danger! Hostile Entity identified. Likely drawn by high magical field.]
[Hostile Entity identified as Hellhound.]
"Crap," said Harry softly.
"Dudley? Why does that Doberman have HORNS?" asked Sam, the clove cigarette dropping from his fingers.
"Nice doggie?" tried Dudley, backing slowly away.
"WUN!" called out Nigel, turning his back and starting to run away.
The beast crossed fast, a blur to Dudley's eyes, clearly heading towards the largest of the three boys.
Harry found himself moving, and a thought to the gemstone in his pocket was a wordless demand.
[Goemon. Set Up. 10% Activation.]
[Zokyo No Jutsu.]
[Augmentation percentage set at 300%.]
[Maximum Duration: 3 minutes.]
Dudley Dursley was absolutely sure he was dead. A Doberman was scary enough. A Doberman with horns, breathing little bits of fire? VERY scary. And while he could privately admit he wasn't the brightest kid in class, he remembered something about not turning your back on predators. Mind you - he mainly remembered that because he fancied himself to be a predator.
Now Nigel had started to run away and was being pursued by some wild dog that looked to mass around five times what he did and he was NOT a small child. It leapt up, knocking Nigel to the ground and looked as if it was about to take a big bite of the fallen boy's neck.
Harry appeared suddenly, leaping from one tree in the schoolyard and slamming into the dog with enough force that the big dog was bowled over and rolled a good two meters and change.
Dudley stopped what he was doing as he saw something COMPLETELY unfamiliar.
The dog got up, teeth bared and snarling. It charged, going from stopped to flat out and sending dirt and leaves flying from underfoot.
Harry backhanded it, acting like the dog was going slow motion or something. "BAD DOG!"
The dog cartwheeled through the air, ending its flight against a tree. A moment later it erupted into flames and vanished.
Dudley gaped. Harry never fought back. Dudley was thinking now it was a very very good thing that Harry had never fought back.
"Dudley? Your cousin is a superhero like in those Yank comics? And ye never told us?" asked Sam.
"Well, uhm," began Dudley.
"I think I need to change me pants," said a very shaky Nigel.
Harry ran towards a building, leaped up to the roof, and vanished.
"Dudley? Ye said the boy's parents died in a car accident or something?" asked Sam. "Maybe it was supervillains or something. And we're supposed to be beating him up as part of the cover-up for his secret identity and such?"
Dudley nodded, because he wasn't going to admit ignorance and this was the best explanation for what he'd just seen that had presented itself.
"Brilliant!" exclaimed Sam. He had always been one for reading them foreign comics and such, and originally he'd just joined Dudley's gang because that kept him from being made fun of for having a nose as protruding as his own was.
"Uhm, yeah," tried Dudley. "I just didn't know you two could keep a secret is all."
"Mum's the word then," said Sam. He didn't fancy the idea of being tortured by supervillains or anything. "Research. I gotta do research."
"Reading them foreign comics you mean," said Dudley, though the idea sounded appealing all of a sudden. Even if it involved reading. He was going to have to figure out what he needed to do to avoid large fire-breathing dogs in the future at the very least.
*page break*
Harry hid behind an air-conditioner and summed up the situation. "Ow ow ow ow ow."
[Augment places a strain on your body.]
"No kidding."
[Practice will reduce physical stress.]
[Activating Regeneration.]
"Ahhhhh," said Harry as he felt the healing kick in.
[Three minute duration. Give two minutes downtime after.]
"Right," said Harry, leaning back as the warmth flowed through him. All too soon the feeling cut off and he felt Goemon go into "rest mode" to recover the storage thing.
Hibernation Mode or Rest Mode was rather like being half-asleep. I was aware, vaguely, of presences nearby without a whole lot of identification other than mental state. I was also aware of Harry's mental state and well-being - as his magic fed a lot of that to me as he gradually filled those reserves.
It had gotten to the point where he hardly felt this level of drain at all, which was quite promising. Given his current rate of development, a full activation for more than a few minutes was only a year or so away.
I came fully awake when the reserves had refilled to 25% at the two minute mark.
[Are you ready for Flight Mode?]
"Wait, 'flight'?" asked Harry, thinking that idea sounded like it would be a lot of fun.
[Current linker core output sufficient for flight.]
[Unable to maintain Barrier Jacket and Flight for more than five minutes.]
[Current reserves at 25%.]
"What do I need to do?" asked Harry.
*page break*
just more of that "what if they had a truly competent DADA teacher" concept.
I noticed the class had settled down, though one slick-haired boy was glaring daggers at the young man I knew to be one Harry Potter. Several of the students looked a bit put-out or nervous about something.
Well, good enough. I threw a handful of chalk dust at the board and when it fell away the first part of my lesson plan was seen written there.
Nobody recognized the spell I used - mainly because there was no spell involved.
"RULES OF DEFENSE:
1 - Any advantage you can steal or borrow or make - is a fair advantage.
2 - Be aware of and use your environment.
3 - That which does not kill you the first time should not get a second chance.
4 - It's always easier to curse than to cure, easier to break something than to repair it, easier to harm than heal.
5 - Anything that can go wrong will go wrong, and usually will do so when it can cause the most mess.
6 - If you're not cheating, you're not trying hard enough.
7 - One person can keep a secret, two people might be able to keep a secret, after that - it's no longer secret.
8 - There are counterspells for nearly everything, so always keep a few unexpected surprises handy."
"Oh! Oh!" said a bushy-haired girl.
"You have a question?" I asked.
"You shouldn't use 'make' there because it doesn't flow well and borrow should be the first option if you're going with order of choice, and then there's the Fidelius Charm which can remain secret even if several people have been told, and..."
I started shaking my head at the first point and then interrupted her with a glance upwards and a hopeless spread of hands. The girl's voice trailed off thereafter.
"This is not a grammar class. Minus five points from Gryffindor. We are not concerned with diction and poetic flow of verbiage. This is Defense Against the Dark Arts. Second, they are given in no particular order because a battlefield is a place of chaos and seizing any chance of survival should be your primary concern if not your only concern. Another five points from Gryffindor. The Fidelius Charm is tricky but can be overcome by certain methods - see also Rule Number Eight. Another five points from Gryffindor. Now then. Are there any actual questions?"
The girl turned nearly white, then red, then stood up and all-but-shouted. "That's completely unfair! How can you justify a fifteen point penalty?!"
"One, we only have an hour class and you've already wasted precious time on something that should be addressed in a class dealing with grammar. Two - you missed the entire point of the list. It's defense. In the case of this class, that is staying alive when someone or something is trying to kill you or worse. Third, you seem to think I'm a muggle teacher. I am not. Though I am teaching and therefore a Professor, that is a title. I am a professional curse-breaker and researcher by trade. I am simply here because there's some stuff I want to research and this school provides a fairly stable location to do that in my spare time."
"Oh, so you're actually experienced in fighting off monsters and dark wizards," said a redheaded boy.
"Precisely," I said, then decided to lessen the load on their shared house. "Five points for Gryffindor but don't just interrupt again in the future. Now, let's start with Rule One and hold your hand up when ready to answer. If a dark wizard were to attack you while you were in the Hogwarts train station - what kind of advantage could you make?"
We were discussing various spells when one of the green-trims asked a question that kind of indicated how this class would be in the future. "What about unforgiveables?"
I considered the slick-backed-hair child for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. I'm guessing you mean the Killing Curse. Avada Kedavra. Some people consider it a go-to spell. Except it's slow. The beam can be dodged or blocked or avoided. If it hits, yes - instant death. Unless you're magically resistant due to something in your ancestry. If you try using it against a nundu, you'll likely die as the spell fizzles and the nundu decides you are the most dangerous thing there. If you try it against an Elder Being, your results may vary but don't expect it to turn out at all well."
"Wait. 'Elder Things'?" asked Draco Malfoy, the slicked-back-hair kid from earlier.
There were many confused looks, so I expounded just a tad. "Seventh year stuff. There are Things in or about or alongside this world. Things that are best left alone. I fought one in South America, had a lot of help and high-powered help at that. It was pretty damn iffy but we managed to seal the crack in reality it came through. Ah, judging from your complexion Miss Granger has an idea of what I'm talking about."
"Lovecraft?" asked Hermione Granger. "But he was just a muggle writer, wasn't he?"
"Miss Granger," I told the young lady, "you'll find that not all muggles are clueless or stupid. Some will stumble upon or even dream of Things That Are. Mister Lovecraft got some details wrong, but he did get some details right. You needn't worry though. Even He-Who-Must-Not-Get-Any wouldn't touch that sort of thing in his most insane moments."
"Wait? 'He-Who-Must-Not-Get-Any'? Any what?" asked one of the eleven year olds.
"Oh, that fellow Moldyshorts," I answered. "The last attempt at the whole 'conquer-the-magical-world' villain-type."
"You mean 'He Who Must Not Be Named'?" asked one of the green-trims.
"Like I said," I answered with a dismissive shrug. "Baldy-warts or 'You-Know-Boob' or whatever term people are throwing about nowadays. I can't be expected to keep track of whatever slang is going on nowadays. I'm a curse-breaker, researcher, monster-slayer, and at least temporarily a teacher. Keeping up with the latest hippie-hop music or fashion trend isn't something I'm particularly good at. Now back to the subject - yes. There are things that are going to be annoyed if you attack them directly with something like that. Not to mention the Killing Curse has some unfortunate side-effects that make it further not a good choice to use."
"Side effects? If it hits you, you're dead," said Draco.
"Five points from Slytherin," I called out as the child had NOT raised his hand. It also wiped the smirk from his face. "I didn't address you nor did you raise your hand, Mister Malfoy. Nonetheless, I'll answer. It does not cause side-effects in the victim. The side-effects are caused to the caster of the spell. To get into more detail will have to wait until third year at the very least. It's almost time for class to end and I have to speak with Mister Hagrid about some lovely possibilities for Care Of Magical Creatures that my connections will allow me to acquire temporarily for his classes. Which all of you will have a chance at in your third year I believe."
"Creatures?" asked one of the Slytherin students.
"Oh yes," I answered the girl. "Lovely chance for the current third years to meet up with a mujina of fair power. A Japanese magical badger with shapeshifting and earth-based elemental magic. Quite useful really if you can bargain with such."
"Is that part of your research?" asked the same girl.
"Oh no. Which reminds me. Anyone wishing a bit of extra credit should contact me later for research purposes. One of my associates from South America presented me with a conundrum that I'm trying to answer. It has a lot of potential, depending on what the answer ends up being."
Bushy-hair stuck her hand up. "What is the question?"
"The spellcasters in the time of the Founders accomplished great wonders, not seen today," I told her and hence the rest of the class. "Locally, a number of people blame muggle-born for using up their magic as if magic is a limited resource and for one to have more another must have less. Others blame the gradual loss of spells to the hoarding of knowledge and loss of family grimoires. I've heard the theory that inbreeding has lowered the magical talent as practically everyone in Magical Britain is related to everyone else. I've also heard that the world has a fixed amount of magic and that using magic slowly drains away what's there - eventually leading to the collapse of magic as that reservoir will simply be depleted one day with no way to refill it. There are other theories as well, but those are the first set I'll either prove or disprove."
There were a number of wide eyes and horrified expressions but that was when the bell rung and I had other places to be.