Harry Potter and the Hermetic Arts

Chapter 25: Right Tool

Harry considered the parcel at the foot of his bed. Frankly, it was weird to find an unattended package in the room he shared with Roger, and the note that did nothing to make him less suspicious of the packet.

Still, it was addressed to him, so it was his to deal with.

Frowning, he picked up the package with a sigh and examined it closely, turning it over in his hands repeatedly as he did so. It was soft and deformed easily in his grasp, giving him the impression it was fabric.

Pulling out his switchblade, he sliced the twine holding the parcel together, watching the brown paper fall away to reveal a neatly-folded pile of silvery gray fabric that quickly lost its shape as it fluidly unfurled into a pool of material on his bed, uncovering a letter.

Opening the envelope, he found a note written in narrow, loopy script he had never seen before. Reading it to himself, he frowned.

Your father left this in my possession before he died.

It is time it was returned to you.

Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

An anonymous package from somebody claiming to know his father?

All sorts of warning klaxons went off in Harry's head all at once.

His biological father was dead and could neither confirm or deny whether it was in fact his, and assuming it was even his, whether he had left it in somebody else's care prior to his death, as opposed to just having it stolen from him.

Then there was the timing, which was suspicious. Other children might see it as a simple Christmas present, but Harry knew better; the best laid traps are ones that look and taste like honey, and he was not going to fall for that.

Besides, whoever it was who had sent it to him wanted him to use it, so that was the very thing he was not going to do.

As Shaun would say, "Never take candy from a stranger."

Rolling up the silvery fabric into a limp roll, he marched it into the common room and went to find the prefect who he had spoken to last. He found older boy talking to a second year girl he vaguely recognized.

"What can I do for you, Potter?" asked the prefect after he finished his conversation.

"I'd like to donate this to Hufflepuff," said Harry, holding up the bundle in his hands.

"May I?" asked the prefect, and Harry nodded, handing it to the older boy, who held it up by one seam, letting the silvery grey material unroll fluidly like it was liquid water made into fabric.

"This is an invisibility cloak," said the prefect, voice hushed in awe. "They're very rare, and inordinately valuable. Are you sure you want to do this Potter?"

"Definitely," Harry said solemnly. "I didn't make this decision lightly."

"Well, then, it'd be only right to let everybody know," said the prefect, walking to the center of the common room. Drawing his wand from his robes, he pointed it at himself and said, "Sonorus."

"If I may have your attention for a moment," boomed the prefect, instantly bringing silence to the packed community room. "Mister Potter has been so generous as to donate his invisibility cloak to our house for everyone to use. If we cared about points, this was a deed worthy of many, but we don't; still, Potter deserves to be recognized for his unselfishness."

The prefect started clapping, and the other Hufflepuffs in the common room quickly joined in; somewhere from the back of the gathered students, a chant of "Speech! Speech! Speech!" began, and before long, the entire crowd was echoing it in unison, putting Harry on the spot.

Stepping up onto a table with a practiced sheepish grin, Harry held up a hand, and crowd fall into a hush, awaiting his words with bated breath.

"As you probably all know, I can't do any magic, so you're just going to have to listen real close, because this is about as loud I get without shouting," said Harry, and chuckles echoed through the room.

"Growing up, I didn't have much, just my wits, my will and the willingness to put in a lot of work," continued The-Boy-Who-Lived once the chuckles had passed. "I didn't have any friends, so when I arrive at Hogwarts, I was scared I'd be all alone again, except this time in a whole new world I knew nothing about, but everyone in Hufflepuff has done so much to make me feel welcome and at home, and I just can't thank you all enough for that.

"This year was the first time I ever received Christmas presents," he continued, but stopped as a collective "Awww" flowed forth from the Hufflepuffs gathered. "I was so happy to get anything, really, but then I received this cloak with a note that said to 'use it well'.

"I can't think of a way to use it that would qualify as 'well', but I'm sure together, we can think of ways to use it to help each other and make the world a better place. You all know the saying: sixty heads are better than one."

As Harry held for cheers, laughter and applause, he smiled inwardly to himself, watching as the Hufflepuffs passed the cloak around amongst themselves, eagerly touching and examining it. He would never have trusted it enough to ever use it himself, so it was worthless to him as an invisibility cloak, but to everyone else in Hufflepuff, it was a treasure of unimaginable value, and he had just bought their gratitude and possibly the loyalty of every generation of Hufflepuff to come, depending on how the narrative was told to those who joined the house in the future, by gifting it to them.

How's that for using it well?

Besides, he didn't need the cloak to become invisible, just an eyelash, some gum arabic and a moment to himself.

After all, invisibility is only a third level spell, and he was already studying well beyond that. Plus, that didn't even touch the grimoires of Shadowrun or Ars Magica; truly, invisibility is a very common magical effect for spellcasters to achieve, and he had the books to show it.

~ooOoo~

"Harry, I was thinking…"

"You do that often? Critically, I mean."

"Very funny..."

It was the afternoon, after the lunch break, of the first Wednesday since they had returned from the previous break. Normally, Harry would be using the library for research purposes, but since returning from break, Hermione had insisted on spending more time studying Hermetic magic, something he couldn't really decline helping her with given their previous agreements.

They were in an abandoned classroom they had picked out just before they began the session, as was routine for their Hermetic magic workshop sessions, and this one was a spacious lecture hall, which made it ideal for working on large-scale effects; Hermione had clearly practiced religiously during the holiday, as her control of her magical power had improved drastically and she could even cast hold portal with little difficulty, which she demonstrated as soon as the two had entered the classroom, using the spell to hold the door fast for nearly half a minute before the effect finally expired.

"So, what were you thinking about?" Harry asked the girl.

"Do you remember the cerberus in that room on the third floor?"

"The one standing on a trapdoor? What about it?"

"I've been reading, and cerberuses are used to guard valuables," Hermione said.

"And you're curious as to know what it's guarding?"

"Well, yes, a little bit."

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

Hermione swallowed at the challenge. "I don't know."

"Let me guess, you want me to do something about it?"

The girl blushed, embarrassed. "If you would…."

"Danger, you're a piece of work," said the boy, shaking his head ruefully. "It's all right if I call you that, right? 'Danger', I mean?"

"Yeah, it's fine, go ahead," Hermione agreed, looking a little mortified.

"Good, because honestly, 'Hermione' has way too many syllables, there's no way to shorten 'Hermione' without sounding like a complete bakebrain, and calling you 'Granger' feels a little too distant after everything we've been through together.

"So, find out what the cerberus is doing, huh?" Harry continued. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"What do you mean?" the girl asked.

"A cerberus is an exotic, magical creature, which means it'd need a specialist for care," explained the Hufflepuff. "Now, if you've really got something you want to keep safe, you wouldn't tell anyone you've got it, which means you can't go outside to hire a caretaker; you'd need from one from in-house, and here, there's only one person who'd fit the bill for that."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"I'd say the big lunk; I don't see who else would be willing to put a dangerous dog with three heads inside a school building, and he seems the kind of bakebrain who'd see a dangerous paracritter and think 'Ooh, pet!'."

"But couldn't it be Professor Kettleburn? He teaches Care of Magical Creatures."

"Does he seem completely negligent? I mean, I've personally never met the man, but he doesn't seem like the kind of person who would be willing to endanger children on purpose; actually, besides the Flying instructor, the giant bakebrain is pretty much the only person I could think of on campus with the kind of incompetence that would put children directly in harm's way. I mean, he's done it to me before, leaving me unattended in a busy shopping district.

"And that's where we run into a problem."

"We do?"

"I'm not speaking terms with the trog, and you're no good for it."

"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded, cheeks flushed in indignation as the pitch and volume of her voice increased.

"What're you going to tell him when he asks you how you know about the cerberus?" countered Harry, cocking his head to the side as he gave the girl an inquisitive look. "You're shite at lying, which is a good thing for most people, but unfortunately, just not for this situation."

"What are we going to do, then?"

"We'll use a cutout."

"A 'cut out'?"

"Oh, right, you haven't played much Shadowrun, and when you have, it's always been hooding."

"What's that got to do with a 'cut out'?"

"A 'cutout' is an espionage technique, where you use an intermediary to acquire intelligence from a source, thereby keeping the source from knowing who the recipient of the intelligence is."

"Again, what's that got to do with Shadowrun?"

"Despite your experiences hooding, Shadowrun's really about corporate espionage, which means a lot of spycraft is involved. Surveillance, use of contacts, dead drops, eavesdropping, honey traps… those are all things that come up when you've played for some time."

Hermione accepted the explanation after considering it for a moment. "I take you've somebody in mind for this?"

"I've got assets in play. I'll send them a note, and we can meet with them tomorrow after Potions."

"Speaking of Potions, how are you able to be so good at that but a failure at Charms and Transfiguration?"

"Potions is easy," the boy said with a shrug. "I ignore everything Snape says, everything that gets written on the board, and always consult the textbooks before I do anything for class. Actually, I pretty much do that for every subject; professors here can't teach for shit."

Hermione could only blink in surprise at Harry's openly defiant attitude, but she could not argue with his results; with the exception of Charms and Transfiguration, his marks his classes were only slightly behind hers, and he never received less than full marks for the theory portions in either of the courses he was failing the practical portions of. She also could guess he worked harder than anybody else she knew, given he was studying not only the Hogwarts curriculum, but also the curriculum of an equivalent normal school and Hermetic magic.

Then again, she had to admit she wasn't learning anything in classes either; everything being covered, she already knew from her own reading, and from what she could tell from speaking to others at gaming club meetings before the end of last term, students who tried to learn through the lessons first invariably came away confused and behind in their studies.

~ooOoo~

Neville and Fay were already in front of the library by the time Harry and Hermione arrived, though it was to be expected owing to the Potions lab being in the dungeons. As the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw approached the Gryffindors, The-Boy-Who-Lived waved the two towards them without breaking stride, merging into a single group as the chubby boy and his friend fell into step with them.

Quickly, the four found an abandoned classroom and let themselves inside, Harry securing the door closed behind them once they were inside.

"What's this about, Harry?" asked Fay seriously as the raven-haired boy turned back around.

"First, introductions," Harry said, holding up a hand. "We're going to working together, so we might as well get acquainted."

Fay started to protest, but Harry cut her off, holding up a hand to silence her, before presenting the Ravenclaw to the Gryffindors.

"Fay Dunbar and Neville Longbottom, this is Hermione Granger."

The bushy-haired brunette smiled tightly and nodded, swallowing hard.

"Danger: Dunbar and Longbottom," continued Harry, turning to Hermione and gesturing towards the two Gryffindors, who bowed and curtseyed slightly, as was appropriate to them.

"'Danger'?" asked Neville quizzically.

"Harry thinks my name is too long," Hermione said, shrugging. "'Danger' rhymes with 'Granger', so I guess it tickles his fancy."

"You're the one Harry threw Weasley down a flight of stairs for," Fay said, eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the other girl. "I've seen you around in Charms and Transfiguration; the way you always get spells to work before the lesson ends is very impressive."

"Thank you," said Hermione, flushing, unused to being complimented; she knew she should feel appalled by the violence Harry had committed on her behalf, but it felt kind of nice to know he'd do that for her.

"So, what's this about?" asked Fay, returning to her original inquiry.

"I kind of need a favor," Harry said, looking down at the floor and fidgeting as though nervous. "It's a little embarrassing, really."

"How can we help?" asked Neville without hesitating.

"Well, I overheard a sixth year telling his friend there's a dog with three heads in that third floor corridor Dumbledore warned about during the Welcome Feast, and I thought I'd check it out myself and see if it's for real," said Harry, fidgeting. "The thing is, I've read a lot about them, but I figured I should ask Hagrid about them too, since he seems like the kind of person who'd be fascinated by terrifyingly dangerous critters."

"I don't see the problem," said Fay.

"Here's the thing: Hagrid and I aren't on speaking terms," said the boy. "First day we met, we got into a fight when I found out he stole something from me after my parents were killed and then kept it until just this July past. He hasn't made any attempts to apologize to me for stealing that rightfully belonged to me, and I'm not going to apologize about getting on him when I found out he stole something that belongs to me."

"You want us to ask for you," Neville surmised.

"Well, if you could…"

"You want us to keep your name out of it," Fay added.

"Yeah, if my name comes up, it might sound like I'm admitting I'm wrong, even though he's the one who committed a crime."

"Out of curiosity, if you don't mind me asking, what did he steal?" asked Fay.

"An inheritance my parents left me," Harry said darkly, leaving the details to their imaginations.

The Gryffindors exchanged sharp looks.

"That's beyond unforgivable," said Fay pointedly.

"I can see why you wouldn't want it to look like you're open to making up," Neville agreed.

"So, will you do this favor for me then?" asked Harry.

"Of course," said Neville. "That's what friends are for."

"All right, then," said Harry. "What can I do for you?"

"Pardon me?" asked Neville.

"I think Harry's the kind of person who hates being in debt to other people, so he wants to know what he can do for us in exchange for us doing him this favor," said Fay.

"Perceptive as always," Harry remarked, and the Gryffindor girl beamed with pride.

"You already helped me a lot, so I'm happy to return the favor," Neville said.

"Fair enough," said Harry, before turning back to Fay. "What about you?"

"What about me?" asked Fay.

"What can I do for you?" Harry reiterated.

Fay considered the offer for a long moment, brow furrowing as she did so. Then, her eyes lit up. "You could show me how to make that thing you used on the troll," she said.

"Jellied petrol?" asked Harry.

"Yes. That."

"Harry…," Hermione warned, speaking for the first time since being introduced, having been observing up until that point.

"I guess I could teach you, as a favor, but you'll have to supply the materials yourself," said the Hufflepuff, ignoring the Ravenclaw's warnings. "I didn't think I was going to need to make more, so I didn't bring any of the things I'd need to make it."

"What do you need to make it?" Fay asked.

"Petrol, styrofoam packing peanuts and a breathing mask," Harry said, ticking the objects off on his fingers. "The mask is extremely important; you don't want to be breathing this stuff."

"Is it dangerous?" asked Neville, still clearly having no idea what petrol was.

"It'll mess you up like you wouldn't believe," Harry told him.

Neville quickly turned towards Fay, concerned but otherwise not afraid. "Are you sure you really want to do this?" he asked. "If it's as dangerous as Harry is saying it is…"

"Of course it'd be dangerous!" countered the Gryffindor girl. "He killed a troll with it!"

"That's actually a good point," Neville admitted. "If we get those things, you'll show us?"

"Promise. Scout's honor," Harry said innocently.

"Are you even a Scout?" asked Fay, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Of course not," said Harry, smiling wickedly. "Look, you have my word, which is all you'll get in this situation, so either take it, or leave it."

The Gryffindor girl considered the deal for a moment, then nodded. "I'll get the stuff we need," she said. "I look forward to learning how to make jellied petrol."

"All right," Harry said. "So, two of you find out about three-head dogs from Hagrid, and I'll show you how to make jellied petrol when you get the materials we need."

"That's a deal," agreed Fay, and handshakes were exchanged.

"We'll meet again tomorrow in front of the library after lunch?" Neville suggested.

"That works," Harry agreed, nodding.

"See you later, then."

"Yep."

Hermione waited until the Gryffindors were gone before voicing her concerns. "Are you really going to teach them how to make napalm?" she asked, clearly concerned.

"If they can get the materials, sure," Harry said. Seeing the answer did little to allay her worries, Harry smiled reassuringly. "I looked Dunbar up over the break; her mother, the normal one in the family, has a job in the Health and Safety Executive. There's pretty much no way she's going to be coming back with petrol or a breathing mask."

"And if she does?" Hermione pressed.

"Then her parents clearly care less about her safety than you do, and if they don't care about her safety, that's really not my responsibility."

"That's not very nice," said the bushy-haired girl, her tone almost accusatory.

Harry shrugged. "It's what she wanted," he said.

"How much of what you told them is true?"

"Enough."

"Enough?"

"To get them to do what I need them to."

"It's not nice, tricking your friends," the girl huffed.

"They're not my friends," Harry said flatly.

"What?" Hermione sputtered, flabbergasted.

"I told you, they're assets," the boy said. "They're both getting what they want out of this; Longbottom gets to feel like he's returning the favor after I helped him out a few times so he gets to feel like he's paying off a debt he never actually accrued, and Dunbar gets to feel like she's part of a grand adventure. They don't need to know why they're getting what they want; in fact, the less they know, the less they'll be able to give away if they're ever asked about it."

"But they think you're their friend," the Ravenclaw pointed out.

"If they have that misconception, it's not my responsibility to disabuse them of the notion."

"You're terrible!"

"I know. Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment!"

"Says you."

"I was the one who said it!"

"You just don't know what you're saying."

Hermione took a moment to take a deep breath and compose herself.

"You're just teasing me now," she said.

"Yes, I am."

"Please stop."

"Killjoy."

Hermione said something in a language Harry didn't understand; from the sound of it, he thought it might be French, like the dialogue from The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Sarah loved that film, and any good foreign film in general, much to Shaun's chagrin, because he hated having to read while watching a movie.

~ooOoo~

If wasn't for the spliff he had just shared with Fay just before the trip, Neville was sure he'd be a nervous wreck; as it stood, he and his best friend were inside the hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, about to do a favor for another friend, cool as a cucumber.

Speaking of cucumbers, he was feeling just a little bit peckish.

It was stuffy and dimly lit, but also cozy and warm; in a way, it reminded Neville of when he would hide in his grandmother's armoire, surrounded by her lacy things, to be safe from the monsters under his bed.

It was a comforting, nostalgic feeling.

"Sir, I have a question," said Fay, interrupting Neville's thoughts.

He appreciated her friendship; if it wasn't for Fay Dunbar, he'd only have Ron Weasley to talk to, or rather, be talked at by, and he wasn't sure that was an improvement over having no friends.

"Yeh can call me Hagrid," said the huge man, as he poured himself a cup of something dark and aromatic. "Wha' do yeh wan' ter know?"

"Is there a doggie with three heads in that third floor corridor Dumbledore warned us about?" the girl asked.

Porcelain broke as it dropped out of Hagrid's hand and onto the table beneath him.

"How do yeh know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" asked Neville, surprised at the surprisingly cuddly name.

"I overheard a sixth year telling his friend about it," Fay said at the same time, repeating what Harry had told them.

"Yeah, he's mine, I leant 'im ter Dumbledore ter guard the…"

"Guard what?" asked Fay impatiently when the groundskeeper faltered.

Hagrid instantly clammed up, and Neville thought it was because he just now realized he had nearly give something away. Yet, knowing Fay, she was going to pursue it anyways.

"Don' ask me anymore," growled the big man. "Tha's top secret."

"Well, I'm going to go visit Fluffy," Fay said, cheerfully innocent. "I just love doggies. I sure hope Fluffy doesn't bite; mum always says dogs who bite people should be put down, but I don't know how I'll even pick Fluffy up."

"Now yeh listen! You forget 'bout tha' dog, an' what it's guardin'; it's dangerous, and between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel…"

Fay smiled sweetly at the Keeper of Keys, who suddenly stopped talking and looked like he was going to become violently ill.

Author's Notes: Giving away that Invisibility Cloak seems in character for this paranoid version of Harry. Probably because trapping a gift is something he'd do in preparation of a run just to steal somebody's identity, get leverage on them or track them. That it's an Invisibility Cloak and he didn't know is besides the point; he would have given it away even if it was a cake, a portrait of his parents, a book or a computer. Plus, it's pretty meaningless to him when invisibility, mass invisibility, invisibility, 10' radius and improved invisibility from Dungeons & Dragons, invisibility from Shadowrun, and Invisibility of the Standing Wizard, Chamber of Invisibility and Veil of Invisibility from Ars Magica are all spells at his disposal.

Harry's speech was actually quite fun the write, particularly because it's just so unapologetically manipulative and full of shit, plus it there's even more of him treating people like assets to exploit, which fits who this version of him is as a person; despite the description of the story listing Dungeons & Dragons as what gets him exposed to tabletop RPGs, he's very much a shadowrunner at heart.

Glib dickhead Harry is fun to write too, but it transitioning into serious Harry is something I like as a demonstration of his mercurial natural; Hermione being the driving force behind elements of the original story instead of Harry is also something I think is important, to give her agency instead of having her be along for the ride and as a tool for Harry to exploit. It's important for supporting characters to have needs and wants, which always kind of struck me as weird in the original books, like most of Harry's peers are just around Harry because he needs them to be useful, so I thought it'd be nice for Harry to be useful to people around him.

Giving people nicknames is going to be a thing with this Harry as he gets closer to them, particularly if their names are long; it's part of the reason why Rosemary Davies is "Romy" and Jacqueline Murray is "Jack", because more than three syllables is just way too many syllables, plus nicknames is a form of the psychology of becoming closer to people, as opposed to distancing language, which I have to use a lot of with Harry as narrator simply because of the way he isolates himself or when Hermione is narrator and Harry commits acts of unthinkable, shocking violence.

Yep, Harry still doesn't doesn't like Hagrid, although the explanation he gives on both counts is simply cover; if anything, he just does not want to deal with somebody he considers an absolute idiot (or "bakebrain"). Also, I thought having more callbacks to things that happen to Harry is important to making the world feel visceral and real, particularly with a Harry that would certainly hold a grudge.

More Hogwarts teacher bashing; I really don't particularly care for the methodology used at Hogwarts to teach students, mostly because it seems to employ the least skillful teachers using the least helpful methods in instructing young pupils. While the characters of the professors are all right, the teaching methodology is all kinds of crap; just like there's no way a driving instructor should allow a first-time student onto a motorcycle without much more safety regulations or a chemistry teacher give students chunks of potassium without first explaining to them first that it'll explode when exposed to water, there was no way the Flying lesson should have went down the way it did, and the Potions professors who doesn't give students warning on the dangers of what they're using, then gets angry at them when they fuck up and get hurt even though it's his fault because he didn't explain the dangers of what they were doing would most likely be fired for needlessly endangering students, and I chose to extrapolate that level of care about of student well-being to the level of care given to how well they learn, because, let's face it, if the school doesn't care whether students are safe, they probably also don't care if the students are learning.

Neville and Fay are back! So, why would Harry introduce the three people in his school life to each other? Probably because he didn't want to assume they were personally acquainted. And yes, if it wasn't clear enough by now, Harry doesn't consider Neville or Fay friends, but that doesn't mean he can't have profitable relationships with them.

As you can probably guess, Neville's gonna have some complications in the future, and not just because of the marijuana he's consuming. Seriously, kinks usually occur because of things people experience during their development. Silk & satin, anybody? That said, scatterbrain Neville is fun to write, because I get to write stream-of-conscious style while retaining a little structure.

Hagrid's accent is kind of hard to write on the fly, to a point where I ended up writing an English-to-Hagrid translator on LingoJam.

I love Fay as the little engine that could; she's brave, energetic, clever and dynamic, and a great counterpart to laid back Neville, plus I like having other clever children in the story. In fact, I like her as the one who can't stop talking while high and can't stop herself from getting organized and cleaning, as a contrast to Neville's slow talk and lethargy. Honestly, I think the versions of those two characters are a lot of fun together. Having her as the driving force in her relationship with Neville is a great counterpoint to the relationship between Harry and Hermione, where Harry is a bit more of the driver.

More than a few have accused this story of bashing Dumbledore, and frankly, that's not really my intention; this is more of a case of somebody meaning well, but not having all the facts, and it's a juxtaposition of perception versus reality. I don't actually hate Dumbledore, more that I don't like the way he was portrayed in the original stories, like he's got some sort of low-level omniscience even though he doesn't really get to know his pawn until several books into the story, so I thought I'd play on that aspect of the original dynamic to show just what happens when expectations and and reality don't line up.

Review, PM... Like a person laying on his back with their eyes open, you know what's up.

Credit to Shinshikaizer for the original story pitch and goalie12345 for copy-editing. Furthermore, my thanks to Romantically Distant for additional editing and proofing.