Disclaimer: Remember, Safety Seventh.
Railway Time
Hermione had just settled down to breakfast when a large tawny owl landed and dumped a small brown paper wrapped rectangular package onto her lap. Curiously, the girl tore it open and was delighted to find a basic primer on technomagical devices.
"Wa'd'yu'ga'der?" Ron asked between bites.
"It's a book on mixing magic and simple technology," Hermione replied absently. "Just a basic overview of some of the things that are possible along with a couple more detailed examples."
"Oh." Ron sensed that it might be time to find somewhere else to be.
"Did you know that the reason we don't see any Wireless sets around the castle is because the wards interfere with the signal?" Hermione asked with shining eyes, glancing up from her book for just a moment.
"Nope," Ron replied, senses confirmed. He looked at her and then looked down at his breakfast. The boy was in a quandary. If he stayed then he'd be the unwilling recipient of a lesson on whatever the girl's latest obsession was, but if he left he wouldn't get breakfast. Truly a conundrum that would have confounded any of history's greatest sages.
'Damn it! Think, Ron, think!'
His eyes lit up as he got an idea. "Look at the time," Ron said quickly. He seized two large slabs of bread and made a sandwich out of everything within arms reach. "Later Hermione."
"Bye Ron," Hermione said automatically.
IIIIIIIIII
Minerva sat in her office with a frown on her face. Now what was the name of that insane house elf that was stalking young Mister Potter again? Started with a 'D' didn't it? Dinky . . . Drippy . . . Doodle . . .
"Dobby?" Minerva ventured.
"Dobby is here and you is calling Dobby, Ms. Professor Kitty?" the deranged house elf said eagerly.
"I need you to get me Mr. Potter's measurements," Minerva began.
"Dobby already has them," the house elf said in excitement, "Dobby likes to remeasure Mister Harry Potter sir every night while Dobby is watching Mister Harry Potter sir sleep." In another part of the castle, Harry felt a chill go up his spine.
"Excellent," Minerva said dully, perhaps it would be best to just pretend she hadn't heard that last bit. "Now if you wouldn't mind sharing them with me?"
"Dobby is happy to help the great Harry Potter sir's Ms. Professor Kitty," the house elf agreed.
Minerva looked at the paper.
"Fourteen centimeters?"
"Yes, Professor Kitty."
"That's an invasion of Mr. Potter's privacy. Stop measuring that."
The elf looked downcast. "Yes, Professor Kitty."
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione looked up from her book in concern as Harry shivered again. Knowing his luck, Hermione was half convinced that the poor boy had contracted some rare tropical disease.
"Are you feeling alright Harry?" Hermione asked in concern.
"I'm just a bit tired, I'll be fine," Harry assured her. "We've got History first. I'll use that time to catch up on my sleep."
"Um . . ." Concern warred with outrage to see who would get to make the response. "Alright Harry." It wasn't like she was in a position to throw too many stones since she had already decided to read her new book during the lesson.
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione's father walked into his home and cheerfully kissed his wife, dropped his hands to do something that caused her to emit a girlish squeak, and kissed her again for good measure.
"Welcome home, Philip," her mother said happily.
"The staff tells me that Hermione decided to drop by?" he said by way of greeting. Shame he hadn't been able to see her while she was in.
"She wanted to make a withdrawal from her trust fund," Anne explained.
"Whatever for?"
"To purchase a new watch for her friend Harry," the woman said with a grin. "It seems that she's gotten the idea that you won't like him if he isn't a sharp dresser."
"Where did she get a silly idea like that?"
"You said he was scruffy once," Anne replied. "Apparently, that's enough to get her obsessing about the matter."
"I told her that I would be delighted to meet the boy," he protested. "I also told her that his economic status didn't bother me in the slightest." Knowing his daughter, it was unlikely in the extreme that the boy had any idea how wealthy they were. He supposed that was one way of keeping the gold diggers away.
"You did," she agreed. "Hermione ignored everything you said, of course," his wife said with a shrug, "I gave her professor enough so that the boy's wardrobe will match even your exacting standards."
"Just because I like to look my best-"
"Doesn't mean that you're 'musically inclined' as they say," she giggled. "Even though my sisters, your former sister in law, and several of my friends all thought . . . still think that you are."
"Fashion is one thing that I refuse to argue with you," he sniffed, "philistine."
"Dandy," she growled, a fire lighting in her eyes.
"Uncultured harridan," he sneered leaning towards her.
"Foppish boor," she accused, as he leaned in, wrapping his arms around her.
"Do you think the boy would like to go riding?" he asked suddenly.
"What?" she asked dully.
"Polo, the hunt club, that sort of thing," he explained. "Hermione may be indifferent but one of her letters mentioned that he was a keen rider."
"Of brooms," she pointed out, "not horses."
"Still . . . he might like some variety."
"True," she agreed, "it couldn't hurt. Might be a good idea to get him some lessons first, ease into things."
"Of course," he agreed. "Now where were we?" He leaned in close. "Uncultured harridan."
"You already used that one," she moaned, "you . . . you . . . ohhhhh."
IIIIIIIIII
Minerva was unsurprised to find Hermione waiting outside the transfiguration classroom after the last class for the day.
"What can I do for you Ms. Granger?" Minerva asked with a fond smile.
"Professor, may I . . . I mean, do you think it would be possible if I . . . um . . ."
"Yes Hermione?"
"May I go down to the tracks and inspect the Hogwarts Express?" Hermione blurted out. "There were several fascinating references to it in a book I've recently acquired and I would like to see the engine for myself to get a better understanding of the text."
"There's no rule against it," Minerva replied. "You may wish to speak with Ms. Lovegood before planning any trips."
"Why is that, Professor?"
"I believe that she enjoys watching them perform maintenance," Minerva said. "It therefore stands to reason that she would know more about how to go about it then I would. There may be some safety rule of which I am unaware for example."
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said in excitement before bolting down the hall to find her odd friend.
Luna was engaged in a staring contest with one of the portraits when Hermione found her. As it was one of the few non-magical portraits in the castle, there was no telling how long the girl had been at it.
"Luna," Hermione said Hesitantly.
"Hmmm?" Luna broke eye contact. "Oh darn. What is it, Hermione?"
"I . . ." Hermione paused. Had she imagined it or had a look of triumph flashed over the portrait's face for a split second after her friend had blinked? Shaking the matter off as a figment of her imagination, Hermione continued. "As I was saying, I was hoping that you would be willing to introduce me to the crew of the Hogwarts Express," Hermione said quickly, "Professor McGonagall said you liked to watch them maintain the train."
"Of course, Hermione," Luna said in delight, "come on." She grabbed the older girl by the hand and began leading her forcefully out of the castle.
"Right now?" Hermione asked weakly.
"I'm sure they're doing something Interesting at the moment," Luna agreed. "They usually are."
"You like trains a lot then?"
"They're so fascinating," Luna babbled as the two girls walked down to the engine shed that held the Hogwarts Express when it was not in use. "I'm fairly sure that Minister Fudge is planning to use his imprisoned . . ." It was at this point that Hermione tuned Luna out.
"Why look who's come to visit again boys," a man in grease stained overalls called out. "How are you doing today Ms. Lovegood?"
"Very well thank you," Luna said politely.
"I see you've brought a friend."
"I have," Luna agreed airily. "This is Hermione. She's a year ahead of me at Hogwarts."
"Pleasure to meet you Hermione," the man said kindly, "there are some doughnuts in the break room. Why don't you go get one for yourself and another for your friend?" he suggested to Luna.
"I normally wouldn't," Luna said with a dreamy smile. "But the Humdingers here should keep the rotfangs away."
"Wonderful," he said with a smile. The large man waited until Luna was out of earshot before turning to Hermione. "Can I speak with you for a bit?" The man in the grease stained overalls asked Hermione.
"Of course," Hermione agreed, "what is it?"
"That girl you came in with," he began, "we're not sure why she likes to come here."
"Alright," Hermione agreed, unsure of where the conversation was heading.
"It could be that she grew up around a mechanical printing press and sees our shop as a little bit of home thanks to the similar sights, sounds, and smells," the burly Engineer said thoughtfully. "Could also be because we don't put up with the sort of behavior that the staff at the castle finds acceptable," his voice hardened. "I trust you understand?"
"Luna really is my friend," Hermione protested. "We might argue sometimes but . . ."
"What friends don't," the man agreed, all smiles and good cheer again. "Good to see she has some friend her own age."
Hermione gave a shy nod, unsure of how to take that bit of wisdom.
"Hermione is interested in the Engines," Luna announced as she burst back into the room. The girl was holding a half eaten doughnut in one hand and an untouched doughnut in the other.
"You are huh?" he asked.
"She is," Luna confirmed as she handed the other girl her share of the pastry haul.
"Well, we've got two Clan Class engines that don't get a whole lot of work." He waved to his left. "But what people tend to think of as the Hogwarts Express is one of our Black Fives. That's a LMS Stanier Class 5 4-6-0 Locomotive."
"What do you mean one of?" Hermione asked.
"Never put all your eggs in one basket," he advised, "there's also the fact that we'd never be able to haul all the cargo we do with just one Engine." He laughed. "Our passenger service isn't all we do you know, also bring in just about everything the castle needs to stay running." He turned and began walking to the closest locomotive. "This way." He led the girls to one of the engines. "This particular one was built in nineteen thirty six by Armstrong Whitworth. It's sixty three feet, seven and three quarters inches long. Weighs seventy three long tons. Uses a Walschaerts valve gear as opposed to a Stephenson Valve Gear. Uh . . . anything else you'd like to know?"
"I'd like to know what all of that means," Hermione said, eyes shining with excitement.
"You're welcome to poke through our library if you like," he said with a shrug. A grin appeared when he noticed the girl's reaction. "And to ask as many questions as you like."
"Thank you," Hermione said with sparkling eyes. The thought of being granted access to a previously unknown source of reading material being almost too much for the girl.
"Would it be possible to go on a trip with you some time?" Luna asked.
"That'd be up to your Professor," he said easily. "Fore you go asking her I'd like to caution you that it's a filthy job and that you'll be pitch black and covered in soot by the end of the day if you come along."
IIIIIIIIII
Flitwick stared down at his fused hands with a look of joy on his face. It had taken quit a bit of effort but they'd finally managed to replicate the boy's accident.
"Wonderful, Harry!" the diminutive Charms Professor shouted. "Absolutely brilliant!"
"I did it," Harry mumbled in shock.
"Indeed you did," the Professor agreed. "Do you think you could do it again?"
"I'm pretty sure I could," Harry agreed.
"Excellent." The Professor looked down at his hands. "Do you think you could undo it?"
"Maybe," Harry said uncertainly.
"Well . . . I dare say that Poppy will be able to undo faster now that she's done it once before, so give it a shot. What's the worst that could happen?"
IIIIIIIIII
The Engineer watched as the two girls examined every visible part of the locomotive. It did his heart good to see a couple of the Brits take an interest in their heritage and it would be nice to think that they might some day be able to do their own maintenance.
"Fat chance of that," he muttered to himself. Either the girls would lose interest or they'd emigrate to one of the more tolerant nations.
The United Kingdom had a bigger problem then their home grown terrorists, their best and their brightest grew up into a society that stifled innovation, that smothered any attempt to change the world for the better. Was it any wonder that so many had chosen to go on to greener pastures?
IIIIIIIIII
Filius wilted under the Healer's glare. It seemed the school nurse was much less enthused about young Mister Potter's feat of magic than he was.
"Mr. Potter was successful," he ventured.
"So it seems," Poppy agreed flatly.
"He was able to get my hands partially undone," he added hesitantly, eyes flicking to interlocking bone spikes now growing out of his mostly separated knuckles. "I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear that it's quite possible that his new spell can be adapted to painlessly regrow missing bones."
"Do tell." You could cut glass with her voice.
"Something tells me that you're not too pleased with what happened," Filius observed, his voice raising an octave.
"Why ever would you think that I was displeased with the fact that you were acting as a test dummy for spell experimentation? " she asked sweetly. "Or that you chose to have Mr. Potter attempt a counter curse, rather then coming straight to the Hospital wing to have things dealt with by professionals."
Filius considered the best way to answer the woman. It was a tricky situation, one wrong word and he'd anger the school's healer and set himself up for untold amounts of future pain and discomfort. "It was all Albus's idea!" He squealed, throwing the Headmaster under the bus. Best give the woman another target for her ire. "I didn't want to do it, but he made me."
The half goblein paused to consider something, wouldn't hurt and it might score a few points. "Harry didn't want to do it either but Albus made us both, he's a very very bad man."
"Alright," she agreed.
"What?" he asked in shock.
"Alright," she repeated herself, "I suppose I can accept that explanation."
"Good, I-"
"But."
"Yes," he asked weakly, preparing himself for the worst.
"I think it's likely that Albus might try these sorts of shenanigans again in the future," she stated calmly. "I think it would be best for Mr. Potter to spend a few nights a week in the Hospital wing learning about emergency healing."
"It'll also give you a chance to work on that new medical charm with him," he observed.
"It will, won't it?" Poppy agreed with mock innocence. "Why, I hadn't even considered that. Excellent catch, Filius."
"I see." Wasn't like he owed the kid anything, or at least not enough to go against the school nurse. "Deal."
"Pleasure doing business with you Filius."
"Likewise, Poppy."
IIIIIIIIII
Meanwhile, Hermione and Luna had submerged themselves in the shop's small library of technical manuals and trade publications.
"Did you know that American Locomotives are too large for British tracks?" Hermione asked.
"I did not," Luna replied, "did you know that there were several unsuccessful attempts to use salamanders as heat generators in the firebox?"
"Pass me that one when you're done with it," Hermione requested excitedly.
"Of course Hermione," Luna happily agreed, thinking how nice it was so nice to finally have a friend who shared a common interest with her.
IIIIIIIIII
Harry and Professor Flitwick squared off in the latter's classroom. After a bow, both men drew their wands with a flourish.
"Ready Harry?" Flitwick asked.
"I think so sir," Harry agreed.
"Okay," the old man said with a grin. "On three. One . . . two . . . three." The old man cast a spell at Harry and blocked the boy's own spell. "Nice," the old man said with a grin, "but not nice enough." His grin deepened as Harry slumped to the ground.
"What happened?" Harry asked dumbly.
"Age, experience, and treachery won again," the diminutive charms professor explained. "Care to try again?"
"Sure," Harry agreed gamely.
"Alright, stand up," Flitwick instructed. The two of them faced each other. "Stretch."
Harry complied, he also cast a couple small spells.
"What were those?" Flitwick asked curiously.
"Medical charms," Harry said, "I learned them from Madame Pomfrey earlier."
"They don't look like healing charms?"
"They're not, Professor."
"Right then, holster your wand and bow." Flitwick's smile turned devious. "On three. One . . . two." He cast a hex at the boy and was shocked to his core that the boy had already moved out of the way, his shock was so profound that Harry's returning hexes ended the fight.
Harry's grin looked ready to split his face as he undid the spells he cast on his Professor.
"Nice reflexes," Flitwick complimented.
"I had a bit of help," Harry said smugly.
"I've got a tell?" the former dueling champ asked in dismay. Even years off the circuit it was still disturbing news for the ex-champion.
"I cheated," Harry explained. "The medical charm I cast allowed me to monitor your heart rate."
"It sped up a bit before I cast didn't it?" Flitwick laughed. "Well done!"
"I didn't expect it to work so well," Harry admitted.
"Well it did," Flitwick said gamely. "Would you mind undoing the hex you used on my hands?"
"What hex?" Harry asked dumbly.
"The one you used to transfigure the bones in my hand to remove the joints and . . . that was another accident wasn't it?"
"Yes, Professor," Harry admitted sheepishly.
"Well . . . help me to the hospital wing and report to your head of house. I dare say that Minerva will enjoy the opportunity of figuring it out with you," Flitwick said firmly, deciding that he'd pressed his luck with the school healer enough for this quarter.
"I guess so," Harry agreed glumly. He wasn't sure how he'd get anything done with another extra class added to his schedule.
IIIIIIIIII
The Engineer got a bit worried when the girls went quiet, something that was rarely a good thing when children were playing, and elected to investigate.
"Everything alright?" he asked.
"We're just putting the finishing touches on our design," Hermione said proudly.
"Mind if I take a look?"
"Go ahead," Hermione agreed.
"Hmmmm."
"Is something the matter?" Luna inquired.
"Why don't we turn out a model of this so we can find out?" the Engineer suggested. "Shouldn't take more then a couple hours," he added.
"And it'll give us a chance to see how all the tools work," Hermione enthused, "thank you."
"Happy to help," the old man said with a grin.
IIIIIIIIII
The grin that bloomed on Professor McGonagall's face after she heard what had happened with the bones in the Charms Master's hand tripped every warning instinct that Harry possessed.
"It isn't supposed to work like that," Minerva said cheerfully, "looks as if we have a lot of work to do before we'll be able to figure this out, 'eh Mr. Potter."
"Yes, Professor," Harry dolefully agreed.
"I'm glad you're as excited about it as I am." Minerva ignored Harry's downcast look. "Come along then, Mr. Potter, the sooner we get started, the sooner we can finish the other errands on our list."
"Other errands?" Harry said in confusion, a spark of horror beginning to grow.
"We need to get you some new clothing to make you presentable," Minerva explained. 'For Ms. Granger's parents, the Charms Conference, and hopefully the Transfiguration Trade Show.' She thought to herself. "Not to mention all the other things we'll need to take care of now that you've revealed your talent in transfiguration. Oh well, I suppose sleep is for the weak, eh' Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, Professor," Harry agreed, the spark growing into a raging inferno.
IIIIIIIIII
They set up their model and the Engineer hustled the two girls behind a large steel barricade.
"Must we be so far back?" Hermione asked with an uncharacteristically petulant look on her face. She really wanted to observe the test of the new steam engine up close.
"Safety first," the Engineer said cheerfully.
"Fine," Hermione gave her unhappy assent, "but I want to be able to give it a closer inspection the next time we fire it so that I can-" BOOOOM! Her jaw dropped in shock as the engine exploded, scattering pieces over a large portion of the field.
"Oh, that was ever so much fun." Luna clapped her hands. "May we pretty please do it again?" She batted her eyes lashes at the Engineer.
"I dare say that it'll happen again," the old man laughed. He turned to Hermione. "That, young lady, is why we stay back when we test out new things."
"But . . . but . . . but what happened?" Hermione stammered. She'd been so sure that their design was perfect, the thought that such a catastrophic failure could occur had never crossed her mind.
"You forgot to put in a safety valve," he explained gently. "Bet it's one thing you'll never forget again 'eh?"
"Yeah," Hermione agreed weakly. "But I was so sure . . ."
"You two did a marvelous job," the engineer assured her. "Just left out a few things."
"Which you noticed right away," Hermione noted aloud.
"I have been doing this longer then either of you have been alive," he said a trifle smugly. "Longer than both of you together have been alive. Come on, we'll have some lunch and continue the lesson inside."
"But you could have pointed it out and then we wouldn't have blown this one up," she protested.
"Yes, I could have," the engineer agreed affably. "But then you would be more likely to make the same mistake again. This way you'll never forget about the safety valve or indeed anything with the word safety attached to it while building the next one."
"We learn more from our failures than from our successes," she quoted from memory, remembering one of her mother's lectures.
"That and building the same thing repeatedly," the old man added. He grinned, it was always fun to bring a couple aspiring Engineers into the fold.
"What mistake makes the prettiest explosion?" Luna inquired with a wide grin.
"Lun..." Hermione's voice trailed off as she changed her mind about whatever she had been about to say, "Let's save that for when we know we've bolloxed up something beyond repair. I'm sure we'll have enough explosions without intentionally causing them."
"That you will," the engineer said cheerfully.
He led the girls to the shed's small kitchen area and pulled a largish pot off one of the shelves.
"Do you know what this is?" he held out an odd looking pot.
"It appears to be a pressure cooker," Hermione replied.
"It is," the old man agreed. "Do you know what this thing on top is?"
"Safety valve?" Hermione said weakly.
"Yep, pressure gets too high and this bleeds off a bit of steam which in turn lowers the pressure." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I'm telling you this so you don't feel too bad, guy that invented these things forgot the safety valve too."
"I won't in the future," Hermione said in a subdued tone.
"I know ye won't," he agreed. "My experience has shown me that people don't tend to forget practical lessons. Now then, this lesson isn't so much bout steam as it is bout cooking."
"Cooking?"
"You don't think we eat rocks do you?" the old Engineer laughed. "Food is important for morale."
"Can we blow that up too?" Luna asked hopefully.
"Not unless we overfill it or block the safety valve," he replied, "which you are not going to do."
"Awwww." Luna pouted, ramping up her cuteness factor by at least a factor of ten.
"None of that," he admonished. "So then, do either of you know how to cook?"
"We were taught how to do potions by Professor Snape," Hermione offered.
"That's a no then," he translated with a smile. "Wonderful."
"Wonderful?" Hermione echoed, wondering why he seemed so happy about that fact.
"Yep," he agreed. "We've got lessons in pressure and in cooking. Multitasking."
"We're also making lunch for the crew," Luna pointed out. "Three things at once."
"Right you are, girl."