The desk was wooden, made of fine oak and weighed in at around two hundred pounds. When it had been installed in the classroom at Hogwarts, it had required two men, plus a levitation charm to move it.
In her rage, Meghan picked up the desk and hurled it the two hundred foot width of the classroom with enough force that it broke against the stone wall.
"HE'S JUST ONE SPORK!" She screamed as the wooden pieces clattered to the floor. "ONE! HOW THE BLOODY BLUE FUCK HARD CAN IT BE TO KILL ONE SPORK?"
The others in the room looked at each other worriedly. Meghan's rages were terrifying, but she'd never been so, well, loud before. Even Tawnee and Kat looked slightly apprehensive.
"I want answers!" Meghan shrieked. "I want answers and a plan of attack, and I want them right now! NOW! HOW THE FUCK DO WE KILL THIS GUY?"
"We don't."
Everyone turned to look at Helena, who was standing by the door. Unlike the others, who were dressed in the latest fashion for sleep-wear, Helena still wore her Gryffindor uniform.
"What?" Meghan asked quietly. "What the hell did you just say?"
As an Analyzer, there was no way Helena could have missed the warning signs. But perhaps it was better to say that she had stopped caring. "We don't kill him," Helena repeated. "If Stuart really is a Spork, and he's really a Firehawk, why hasn't he attacked us yet? By now he knows who we are, he knows our schedules and if I'm right about him having McGonagall on his side -- the only way he could have gotten into Hogwarts on the exchange program without setting off red flags--he probably has all the passwords to the dorms."
"So?" Kat asked.
"So why hasn't he struck yet? There's only a few of us in each house, he could slaughter us all in one night's work. So why hasn't he? Answer, he's waiting for someone or something to give him an edge and every hour we stay at Hogwarts is one more hour for that edge to manifest."
Meghan looked at Helena for a moment, and then spoke slowly and simply, as though to a child. "Then what do you think we should do, Helena?"
"Abandon Hogwarts by no later then the holiday vacation and infiltrate the Death Eaters using the Malfoys. Wait for Voldemort to show up and deal with him that way. If nothing else, we can dismantle his power base from the inside. At that point, he becomes just one more Dark Wizard with an axe to grind and easy prey for the Aurors."
"Just what I'd expect from a coward and a small-minded fool," Meghan sneered.
"Coward?" Helena repeated.
"A coward," Meghan confirmed. "You. Are. A. Coward. Have you become contaminated by your host? Forgotten what you are?" Helena risked a side glance at Febreeze, who was smirking and seethed, but only for a moment. So be it. They had their chance.
"I see," Helena said. "Then obviously I am not fit to be in the same room with you. Goodbye." Without looking, she reached out to the door to the classroom and opened it.
"Aroha," Meghan said, having already dismissed Helena from her thoughts. "It's time to find out just what Stuart can really do. Find a way to lure him into the third floor corridor tomorrow night and kill him., I don't care how, just kill him. Tawnee, Kat, you two keep her from being interrupted."
Helena let the door shut and sighed. She could warn Stuart, but if he was what she thought, there was no need. She reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a bracelet. It was cunningly wrought. Strands of gold, silver and platinum wrapped around a single loop of titanium as Mother of Pearl letters spelled out the name Emily.
Helena looked at it a moment longer and nodded to herself and slipped it onto her left wrist. Nothing she could do in her life would make up for how she came by that bracelet. But maybe, just maybe, when this was all over, she'd be able to look at herself in the mirror again.
It would have to do.
-------------------
When Hermione saw Luna on her way to the Great Hall, her curiousity overcame her.
"Luna?" She called out and hurried to catch up with the younger girl. "Hi, Luna."
"Hello," Luna replied absently.
"So what are your plans for the Holidays, Luna?" Hermione asked.
Luna shrugged. "Father will come up with something."
"Oh. Do you like Gary?" It was blunt, but Hermione had never been afraid to speak her mind.
"Don't you?"
"Well of course! It's like I've known him for years."
"Then why did you ask me?"
Hermione's legs kept moving, but mentally, she had to stop and think her way through the conversation. "What I mean, Luna, is do you like like him?Romantically, I mean." Luna looked at her, startled and Hermione took that as a yes. "Why?"
Luna's face closed down and resumed its usual vacant expression. "You'd understand if your mind was free." With that, she turned down one of the side hallways.
"If my mind was free?" Hermione asked. She glanced at her reflection in a window and fingered the pink and green streaks in her hair and studied the low-cut, tight blue t-shirt she wore with the words "Sexy Bitch" written across it in pink. "What does that mean? My mind is free." She turned back to the side hallway and frowned. Then, with a shrug, the cleverest witch at Hogwarts dismissed the conversation from her mind and went to breakfast.
--------------------
Normally, announcements were reserved for dinner, so when McGonagall tapped her glass with her fork, the students, who had been looking forward to breakfast, looked up in surprise.
"A few moments of your time," Dumbledore said as he stood up. "First off, you will be pleased to know that no students were killed or seriously injured in yesterday's attack. While the Aurors have assured me that their investigation won't take long, I must inform you that until further notice, the Qudditch Field is off limits. House Captains should speak with Madam Hooch and make alternative arrangements for practicing. Also, you should all expect to be questioned by the Aurors. You may choose to have your Head of House be with you while being questioned."
"Whispers exploded throughout the hall and Dumbledore let it go on for a minute or two and then raised his hand for silence.
"Second, Professor Vector has been called away on some personal matters, and so I must introduce you to Nessia Baron, who will be filling in until the Professor returns." Next to Hooch, a woman who had to be the same age as Dumbledore stood up. Her bushy white hair was unbound and stood out from her face like a lion's mane. She wore a pair of black eye glasses and a maroon robe. She looked over the room and while Harry couldn't be sure, he was almost positive that her gaze lingered on Ron and then met Gary's eyes before moving on.
"Thirdly, with the holidays upon us next month, I would like to take a moment to remind all of you that those of you planning to stay here at Hogwarts during that time should sign the list in your respective house common rooms. Other then that, nothing else needs to be said. Let's eat."
As the food manifested, a single owl swooped into the Great Hall and dropped a note in front of Gary. His fork still in his mouth, Gary opened the letter and looked at it. Whatever it was, made his eyebrows furrow and then Harry felt a lead ball form in his stomach as Gary's eyes briefly lost all warmth and emotion. Harry had seen that happen only once before, on the train to Hogwarts.
Those were a killer's eyes.
And then worse, Harry felt what breakfast he'd eaten curdle in his stomach as Gary smiled. A smile that spoke of a hunger so terrible and so awful that it was the stuff of nightmares.
Then the smile vanished and warmth and emotion returned to Gary's face. Almost cheerfully, he returned the letter to it's envelope and slipped it into his pocket. Harry looked around, but everyone was concentrating on their breakfasts. Even Ron was mechanically eating food without even looking up from his plate, and Hermione was down at the far end of the table, talking quietly to Febreeze Bach. Harry suddenly felt very much alone.
"Brother?" Harry looked up and at Helena. His sister. The only family he had. "Could you pass the eggs?"
"Oh, sure." Harry said and passed over the bowl. As she took it from him, their fingers touched and Harry's concerns vanished.
He had his family. Who needed friends? All was right with the world.
--------------------
Nessia Baron was nice enough, but it became quickly apparent that she had no tolerance for tomfoolery. At precisely ten o'clock, she'd walked in carrying a meterstick and begun calling the roll without even looking at the sheet. Pausing only for a breath, she'd then launched into lecture.
Hermione, needless to say, took an instant liking to her.
Like a tiger, Baron paced up and down the rows of the Arithmantcy classroom, her voice lecturing on the arcane arrangement of numbers to subistute and supplement the magic of the wand. Anyone who wasn't taking large amounts of notes not only found themselves cause for fifteen points taken from their house, but detention. Not only that, but she was completly indiscriminate. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and even a couple of Ravenclaws who failed to perform to her satisfaction all recieved the same treatment.
"Numbers drive us," Baron said as she paused at the front of the classroom. "More to the point, numbers drive magic. A movement of your wand shapes and directs the magic for the desired result.
For example. Everyone take out their wands and do the movement for Wingardium Leviosa. Don't speak the words, just go through the motion." The class complied. "Again. And now a third time. Thank you. Wands away please. You will notice that your wand moved in a thirty-five degree arc to the right and then a much sharper ninety-degree arc forwards and down. A simple swish and flick to you, but the numbers behind it are precise and demanding. To much of a swish, too little of a flick, and no matter how much power you pump into the spell, it just won't work, or backfire." She glanced at Seamus as though she knew about his tendacy, when he was a first year, to make things explode. "But, if you change the numbers enough, amazing things can happen."
"But Professor," a student asked. "Numbers can't be changed. No matter what, two plus two always eqauls four."
"Oh? Put a one next to a two and you have two plus twelve, making fourteen. Add a four to the other two and you have either twenty-four or forty-two, depending on where that four is placed. The human body, its chemical components, are a series of numbers next to the names of those chemicals. Saltpeter, water, Sulfer, several grams of various metals, and so on. All things that can be found in the stores of the Potions classroom downstairs in the dungeons. Some transfiguration and you have a new human being on your hands."
Hermione raised her hand. "Professor, are you saying its possible to artificially create life?"
Harry was positive Baron was looking at him when she replied. "No, Miss Granger, but it is possible to create a sembalance of it if you know what you're doing . . . or are desperate enough." At that moment, the bell rang. "Thank you, that will be all. I expect no less then three feet of parchment on what we discussed today by next class. Dismissed."
"No less then three feet," Seamus muttered as they left the classroom. "What is she, Snape?"
"I think it's perfectly acceptable," Hermione said. "I would have assigned more as a minimum, myself. It's an absolutely fascinating subject. I mean, if you follow that lecture to its logical conclusion . . . there's no need for wands. It all boils down to simple numbers. Professor Vector never took it this far. Oh, I can already see the first paragraph."
"Bloody boring, if you ask me," Ron said. "All those numbers and stuff, who needs it?"
Hermione's eyes flashed fire and most of the Gryffindors suddenly remembered other places that they just had to be. It was a well known fact that Hermione's temper when it came to Ron was fearsome and nobody wanted to be at ground zero, so to speak, when she exploded. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, unaware of the impending explosion, did not leave. Nor did the Syltherins, who rarely passed up an argument.
"Arithmantcy is vital and important, Ron!" Hermione exploded. "I can't believe you would just dismiss it like this."
"Well not all of us are geniuses, 'Mione," Ron replied. "Some of us are just trying to pass the class."
"Just pass?" Hermione repeated, aghast. "Just pass? Ron, do you have any idea how hard it is to make it in the world by just passing? I've been telling you for years now that you need to buckle down and study!"
"What is all the noise?" Professor Baron stood in the door and swept them with a glare that would have made McGonagall proud. As though she read their minds, she crossed her arms. "I see." She stared at all of them some more, and Harry began to feel rather nervous as the tension built. "If any of you are still in my sight after five seconds," Baron said at last, "I will deduct all the points your house has earned this year. Five."
"But--" A Ravenclaw protested.
"Four."
"But that's not--"
"Three."
The hallway emptied. Harry was pretty sure that he'd never run so fast in his life.
--------------------
Later that night, Harry sat in the Common Room with Ron and Hermione, practicing Transfiguration on some old teacups when Gary came skipping down the stairs, a big grin on his face. He wore an old jumper, jeans and sneakers.
"You look cheerful," Ron said.
"It's a wonderful day to be alive," Gary said in a chirping tone of voice. "I got a note at Breakfast from Luna. She wants to see me after hours. Don't wait up." With that, he was gone.
Harry stood up and ran up the stairs, returning moments later with his Father's old invisibility cloak in his hand.
"Harry," Hermione asked. "Where are you going?"
"After Gary," Harry said and told them what he'd seen on Gary's face at Breakfast."
"You think he'd hurt Luna?" Ron asked as he and Hermione fell into step beside Harry. "But he's crazy about her."
"That's what worries me," Harry said and the painting closed behind them.
In the Common Room, Helena sat in her chair for a few more moments and then looked down at her wrist. The name Emily glinted in the firelight and she took a deep breath.
She'd made a promise, after all.
She set aside her book and followed after Harry and his friends.
----------------------
Anyone with any kind of combat training can attest that an ambush's only real advantage is the momentary hesitation as the body instinctivly tenses up to either flight or flee. However, if the Ambushee is expecting the attack, the advantage is lost and can often turn into a disaster for the Ambusher.
Such was the case when Gary twisted to the side, causing Aroha's claws to chip at the stone floor.
"What the?" She gasped, realizing that her target wasn't where she'd expected him to be.
"Don't you think that if Luna never sent me notes before now, I'd be just a tad suspicious when one showed up?"
Aroha rose to her full seven foot height. "Die," she hissed.
Gary smiled and his clothes fell away in shreds as his armor manifested. "You first."
And the battle was joined.
----------------------
As Harry and his friends approached the staircase leading to the Third Floor, something sailed off the top of the Staircase and slammed into the stone floor. Hermione shrugged off the cloak and took the lantern from Ron.
Sprouting from the floor was a wand.
"That's Aroha's wand," Hermione said. "Its made of Rimu wood with a Huia's feather for its core."
"Aroha?" Ron asked as Harry folded up the cloak. "Isn't she one of the Transfers? Really good at flying?"
Hermione nodded. "She's nice enough. She got bullied at her last school because she's so good at singing, but Dumbledore personally selected her for the program. She's very gifted with Charms."
There seemed something vaugely wrong about that to Harry, but before he could put it together, there was a noise from the top of the stairs. It sounded like someone falling to the floor and then there was a hiss and the sound of stone breaking.
Harry shook out the cloak and once concealed, they crept up the stairs, careful to stay to one side in case whatever was up there came down.
At the top, they stopped and stared. Two . . . things were fighting in the middle of the hallway. One looked like a Veela the other . . .
"That's it," Harry whispered. "That's the thing that saved me, Luna, and Ginny yesterday. The one covered in bone."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked.
"Positive," Harry said. "Why's it fighting with the Veela though?"
With a mighty crash, the Veela threw the bone covered creature to the ground and then lifted it by the neck.
"You're outclassed, Spork," the Veela snarled. "We have Potter, we have this whole stinking school. You've failed." She held him against the wall. "With you gone, Potter is all ours." She pressed harder. "I suppose I should ask for last words."
"Gotcha," the creature said and lighting arced from his hands into the Veela as he kicked her in the stomach.
"How did you do that?" The Veela gasped. "The Sporks have never been able to do that."
"I'm a later model," the creature said and lunged at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and throwing her down the stairs. Horrified, Harry watched as the Veela landed on Aroha's wand and blood gushed from her mouth.
There was a soft glow and Harry turned his head to look. Gary stood at the stop of the stairs, smiling as he gazed down at his handiwork. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and Harry turned to look at her. Then past her. The Veela's body was disentigrating. Revealed was a creature that looked like a cross between an octopus and a misshapen jellyfish which was twitching on the wand that ran through it.
"How much later?" a faint voice asked. "How long?"
Gary only smiled and brought his foot down on the wand, snapping it in two and crushing the thing impaled on it. "Next trip to Hogsmede," he mused. "Must get new shoes."
That was too much for Harry, he shrugged off the Cloak and took out his wand. "Gary," he said, loud enough to get the other boy's attention.
Gary whirled around and stared at Harry, surprise and consternation chasing each other across his face, then cold calculation. "Hullo, Harry," Gary said and started up the steps.
"No," Harry said. "Not one step closer." He gestured with his wand and Gary paused.
"Harry?"
"What's going on?" Harry demanded. "What the hell was that?" He paused and rethought about everything that he'd seen in since he'd arrived at the Barrow. And stared. There was absoultly nothing physically to connect Gary with that strange bone covered creature, and yet, it was the only thing that made any sense. "You were the 'demon' in Knockturn Alley when we went shopping. And you saved me Luna, and Ginny from those Goblins." He stared at Gary. "Who are you . . . What are you? What are those things and why are they, and you, here?"
"All very good questions, Harry. I suspect the answers will shock you. I know they shocked me."
Harry spun. Standing on the landing was Professor Dumbledore, Professor Baron just behind him. Dumbledore's blue eyes were guarded and his hands clasped at his middle.
Gary's eyes narrowed and then he vanished.
"Burstus!" Dumbledore snapped, his wand seeming to materialize in his hand.
Gary suddenly appeared down the hall, one foot poised over the edge of the crater that appeared in the middle of the hall.
"Answers, however, that you should hear from Gary," Dumbledore continued, "and not myself. But if Mister Stuart doesn't wish to share . . ."
Gary looked from Dumbledore to Harry, hesitating.
"I'm not asking you to share your secrets, Mr. Stuart, Dumbledore said. "I'm demanding it. Or else I shall have to take them from you. I still have a few questions left and you have the answers."
"A bluff, Headmaster," Gary said softly. "You're not capable of what it would take to make me talk."
"When something you love is in danger, Mr. Stuart," Dumbledore said, "you find that you are capable of a great many things." The elderly man's eyes seemed to glow and the wand never wavered.
Gary's eyes flicked towards the nearest corner and then back at Dumbledore. His foot slid slightly on the stone floor, as though he was getting ready to make a run for it.
"I will not beg, Mr. Stuart," Dumbledore said quietly. "But I will ask one more time. Help us. Tell us what you know. That is why you're here, isn't it? To help us?"
Gary's eyes narrowed further and after what seemed like forever, his feet shifted back to a more neutral position.
"Thank you, Mister Stuart," Dumbledore said quietly. "I believe my office is sufficent for our needs. Shall we?"
--------------------
Harry had once heard it remarked that if you wanted to know a person, you looked at their surroundings.
Albus Dumbledore surrounded himself with oddities. Fitting for a man who was often described as a genius and mad in the same sentance.
The tables were covered with devices that whirred and hummed for some reason known only to their master. Other things were in the cabinets that lined the walls and still other things decorated stands. On a perch near the desk, Fawkes the Phoenix watched them file in and sit in the chairs Dumbledore conjured with a wave of his wand.
A tea set was already on the Headmaster's desk and Professor Baron sat on the side of the desk that was opposite Fawkes. On the walls, the portraits of Headmasters and Mistresses past watched and whispered to each other.
When they were all settled, Dumbldore gazed at them from behind his half-moon glasses and then nodded. "Where to begin?" He mused.
"How about what that thing was that Gary killed?" Harry snapped.
"It was a Mary Sue," Professor Baron said. "Mutiple Applications Research and Intelligence program, Surveillance and Identification Unit. The perfect spy . . . until they all went mad."
"Multiple Application . . ." Hermione mused and her eyes locked with Baron's. "That sounds . . . Military."
Baron nodded. "Very good, Miss Granger. Yes, they're military."
"From where? Which Military? America?"
"No, British. Partly, anyway." Baron was silent for a moment and then looked at Hermione. "How old would you say I am, Miss Granger?"
Hermione cocked her head. "A hundred at least. You and professor Dumbledore seem to be the same age and he does seem to . . . to . . . You're lying. Those things, whatever they are are just some new type of creature. Trasfiguration, right? This is some kind of test for initiation into the Order. It must be."
Harry nodded. It seemed wrong, but Hermione was making sense. A test was all it was.
"You're so smart, Mione," Ron said worshipfully.
"Naturally," Hermione said with no trace of shame.
Baron looked crestfallen. "It's worse then I thought," she said to Dumbledore. "Their minds are so tied up its not even funny."
"What do you mean tied up?" Hermione said as Ron knelt to kiss her shoes. Perfectly fitting, of course. "Luna said my mind wasn't free, which is just stupid. Of course my mind is free."
"No it isn't."
Everyone turned to look. Helena stood next to the doorway. "None of you are free, except Gary, and that's only because he can't be taken." She stepped into the circle of chairs and looked directly at Professor Baron. "As Mark Twain put it, the rumors of your death were exaggerated?"
"Greatly so," Baron replied stiffly. "Gary, kill her."
Harry lunged to his feet, putting himself between Gary and Helena as Gary stood up. "NO!" Harry shouted. "You can't! I won't let you!"
Helena grabbed Harry by the shoulders. "It's okay, Brother, I just have to say a few things. The professor was only joking."
Baron started to rise from her seat, but Dumbledore grabbed her by the wrist. "A joke in poor taste, Nessia," Dumbledore said very quietly. "Sit back down, Mister Stuart. If there is any need for you to take lives, I will tell you so."
Gary sat.
"Now then, Miss Potter," Dumbledore continued. "You had something to say?"
"Yes, sir." With that, she reached over the tea set and brushed Dumbledore's hand. It was a gentle touch, fleeting almost, but Dumbledore jerked in his seat, even as Helena turned and touched Hermione's forehead. The bushy-haired girl cried out in pain and grasped her head.
Ron let out a cry and lunged at Helena with his fists, but she neatly sidestepped the lunge and brushed his cheek with her fingertips. Ron's eyes widened in shock and he fell back in his seat, staring at nothing. Helena stopped before Harry and hesitated.
"What did you do?" Harry demanded.
"Harry . . ." she began and then trailed off. "Harry, I . . ." Harry blinked at her. Helena never called him Harry, she'd always called him "Brother". Then her hand was on his cheek and he jerked back in his seat as images flooded his mind.
He lay on a pile of cushions as Kat Schmidt writhed on top of him. One of his arms was holding Draco Malfoy close as the fair-haired boy nibbled on his neck and then Ron's face loomed into his field of vision and his and Draco's lips met.
He stood on the Qudditch field, watching as Helena practiced with Quidditch team as their Seeker. She'd never actually played with the team, even though she was better then him.
"You got a higher score then me, Helena," Hermione told her in the hall as Harry proudly looked on. "Congradulations."
Harry smiled as he and Draco took Sakura from both ends as the Daughter of Professor Snape moaned happily.
Snape stroked Harry's face. It was wrong and they both knew it, but their passion wouldn't . . . couldn't be denied anymore.
He and Draco, writhing together on the couches in the Hufflepuff Common room.
No, Harry realized as the visions played themselves out in his head even as he retched onto the floor of Dumbledore's office. They were memories. Memories ruthlessly supressed by the thing who now stood before Dumbledore's desk and replaced with a complete lack of concern and empathy.
Suddenly filled with rage, Harry leapt to his feet and slammed his fist into Helena's face. She made no move to defend herself, but only fell to the floor where she lay like a limp rag as Harry kicked her again and again until he was exhausted and leaned against the desk, gasping for air.
A low moan from Ron drew Harry's attention. The red-haired boy was looking around, blinking as though he'd just woken up from a deep sleep.
"What the?" Ron asked and then looked down at himself. He was dressed entirely in black. He wore tight black vinyl pants and a black fishnet shirt. Black lipstick adorned his mouth and his face was pale due to makeup. "What?" He looked inside his shirt. "Why am I . . . when did that happen?"
"God," moaned Hermione. "Who . . . where . . . MERLIN!" She began to hyperventilate and Ron moved to comfort her. "Don't touch me!" Hermione shrieked and shoved Ron away. "I . . . Febreeze . . . we . . . OH, GOD!" She hugged herself, hunched over in her chair, shivers wracking her body and then she stood up and stared down at herself.
Now free, Harry realized that Hermione was more . . . well . . . curvy. Her chest was much larger then Harry could ever recall and the tight t-shirt that sure clearly showed that her waist was almost impossibly narrow and she was much thinner then she should be.
In short, she looked like the American comic book heroines Harry had seen once in his cousin Dudley's collection.
As that crossed his mind, Harry realized that both he and Ron were more well, idealized, at least physically. Harry was no longer skinny and both he and Ron had lean, toned muscles.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO US?" Ron howled as he leapt forward.
"Immobilus!" Dumbledore said and Ron froze in mid-leap. "We could be here all night," Dumbledore said, "and Miss Potter would doubtless die before we felt satisfied, so I must ask all three of you, to sit and wait. Given that she came to us, knowing how we'd react, I'd imagine that she has something important to say."
"It's just Helena," she said getting to her feet. Before their eyes, a bruise on her face faded. "I'm not a Potter." She looked at the floor for a moment. "Never was."
Dumbledore inclined his head and Harry sat back down in his chair. Dumbledore released Ron, who also sat down, glaring at Helena.
"Ah, Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione said. "Could I have a robe or something?"
"Of course, Miss Granger, I should have thought of it myself." Dumbledore waved his wand and a large blanket materialized on Hermione's chair. Gratefully, Hermione wrapped herself in it and sat back down. "Thank you, Sir."
Dumbledore nodded and then fixed Helena with his blue eyes.
Helena bit her lip and then took a deep breath. "I came here because the others have lost their minds."
"That's already happened!" Professor Baron snapped. "And thank to that, the D.S.A. controls most of the world."
"We were awakened," Helena corrected. "Marissa showed us the way. But now, we've . . . I believe the barriers that seperate us from the host brain have deteriorated. We're merging. Eventually, what we are will be forgotten and . . ." She shook her head. "Meghan's the worst. Her rages are getting worse and sooner or later, she's going to do something . . . bad."
"What do you mean, 'bad'?" Hermione asked. "And what's the D.S.A.?"
"The D.S.A. is the Domestic Security Agency," Baron replied. "A military fascist organization that siezed control after the United Secure States of America's goverment was slaughtered."
"But there is no such place," Hermione said. "And if there is, why haven't I heard of it?"
And in that moment, everything came together for Harry. "Because it doesn't exist yet, Hermione," he said quietly. "Because the Sues, Gary and Professor Baron are all from the future."
"Not the future, Harry. A future," Baron said. "One I sent Gary back in the hopes of preventing. But he arrived to late, or perhaps early. You see, Nessia Baron isn't my name, not the one I was born with, anyway." A cold feeling gripped Harry's stomach with clawlike fingers. "I was born in the year nineteen eighty, Harry. In London, to a recently married couple who was preparing to open their own dental office."
"No," Hermione whispered. "No."
"Yes, Hermione, I am you, or rather, what you will become if Harry dies."