Harry Potter and the Song of Time
By Crazy Ivan
Fanfiction.net version -- please note that, due to FFN chaptering's inability to provide a prologue, this is listed as Chapter 7 but is actually chapter 6.
Author's Note: Our story began in Harry & Co.'s final year at Hogwarts, and moves quickly on to the first year of post-Hogwarts life. Our heroes start at the Institute in St Andrews, Britain's finest place of higher wizarding education, both Magid and non-Magid. Friends old and new pop up in the strangest of places, and we delve into the very meaning of Time itself!
Parts of the story are loosely inspired by, extrapolated from and refer to Draco Dormiens by the superlative Cassandra Claire, who has kindly given her consent to the use of Magids (a kind of super-powerful wizard) and 'her' Draco and his new outlook on life. It was written before the completion of Draco Sinister, so not all ideas in that story may be taken on board -- particularly the Heir theme. Neither it is a sequel to DD or DS. We also go against JKR's own canon statements that there is no wizarding education past Hogwarts. Why? Because that's what fanfic is for, dammit! (NB: Since FFN decided to remove Cassie, her wonderful fanfiction can be found at Schnoogle.com, part of the FictionAlley.org quality novel-length fanfiction community. Crazy Ivan's there too!)
Obligatory Disclaimer: I make no claims to be JKR -- or, for that matter, Cassandra Claire. Mainly because I'd look silly in a dress (or leather, or a kilt, Sinead...), but also because I respect and acknowledge their copyrighted material, characters and settings.
All new material, however, is mine. All mine. And, to quote British Magical Rail, if you steal it, use it in any moneygrubbing gobliny sort of way, or do anything else with it that would upset my grandmother, "We Will Send Large Hairy Thugs Round To Your House To Pull Off Your Toenails".
For reasons of language, this story is rated "R". Hey, eighteen-year-olds swear, drink, and have, er, relations sometimes.
Chapter Six: Draco Vivens
Harry, Draco and Ron walked through the Reading Room of the Muggle University's St Salvator's Quadrangle, books and quills in hand, and, tapping on the brick indicated by the Institute booklet, found themselves in a long curving corridor with canary yellow on the walls, floor and ceiling.
"Following the yellow sodding brick road," Harry mumbled.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Never mind," Harry said.
"Institute, This Way" was painted above a pointing finger. They followed the finger around the corridor for what seemed like ten minutes until they emerged into another corridor, painted an eye-jarring puce. A large door marked "Room 28" faced them, and Draco pushed it open.
Inside, steps led down through several sloped rows of seats behind desks. At the front was a large whiteboard bordered in green. Draco assumed an Engorgement spell automatically added places to the room when people arrived. He, Harry and Ron took seats near the whiteboard at one end of the room and looked around them. Wizards and witches of every nation were represented and were talking in more languages than Draco had ever heard. He smiled at a short witch next to him wearing what he assumed was African traditional dress. He had to admit, it was gorgeous. The block patterns emphasised the range of colors in it -- every color of the rainbow and others he didn't know could be dyed into clothes.
"Hello," he said with a smile. "I'm Draco Malfoy."
"Martha Mkenyo," she said in a deep, lilting contralto, holding out her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Draco. Are you a Magid?"
Draco nodded. "Yes. You?"
"Yeah. I was getting some training back home in Kenya, but my teacher was less powerful than I am, so she thought it would be best if I went away to the Institute."
"Where did you go to school?" Draco asked, pleasantly surprised at how well he was doing at smalltalk.
"Lake Naivasha in Kenya," Martha said. "It was a lot of fun. How 'bout you?"
"Hogwarts. It was fun too. Apart from the whole Voldemort Thing. That wasn't fun."
"Yeah, we had to deal with one of those sort ourselves," Martha empathised. "No fun."
Their discourse was interrupted by the arrival of a tall, grey-haired wizard at the front of the classroom. "I assume this is Introductory Magid Powers and Magid Studies?" he asked. Everyone nodded. "Excellent. It was either that or Fourth Year Knitting and its Influences on the Modern World. I am Dr Adamson, Course Coordinator for this module. I'll be passing around a piece of parchment, to which you should all sign your names and term addresses. Oh, and next of kin. That's particularly important. This being the Institute, we won't learn those from the bureaucracy until Week 10, and we might need to contact your relatives before then. Now," he began, tapping the top piece of a pile of paper with his wand and waving it smartly at the whiteboard, which zapped the contents of the piece of paper up on the wall, "this is Magid Theory. If your degree plans do not involve Magid Theory, please leave the airplane by the front door." Chuckles rolled around the room among those of Muggle upbringing, while several less-widely travelled wizards and witches looked a trifle puzzled.
"What is a Magid? Well, as most ordinary wizards see it, a Magid is just a powerful wizard with a very strong Will. That's not too far from the truth, but there are certain significant ways in which Magids do differ from ordinary wizards."
He tapped the next piece of paper, and the image on the board changed to "Differences between Magids and Ordinary Wizards"
"Magid power is drawn from elemental forces, and is not focused using wands. In fact, the power itself is not visible in any spectra of visible light unless you're a vampire. That's very important to realise -- there won't be any sparks, flashy lights or bubbles to show your power. You might see things happening as a result of the power, such as seas moving, rain falling, people flying through the air et cetera, but the actual power itself is invisible."
He tapped the stack again and "Magid Elemental Forces" appeared on the board.
"There are five Magid Elemental Forces. You may hear these referred to as 'MEF's or 'Forces' in literature. They are Sky, Sea, Earth, Fire and Life, and Sky roughly equates to air and non-precipitation weather; Sea to water and precipitation weather; Earth to soil, earthquakes, rocks and that sort of thing -- oh, and lava with Fire; Fire is basically fire, as well as lava with Earth; and Earth is all living things. You may have realised that they are most often combined -- Sky and Sea to make a hurricane, Earth and Fire to make a volcano, Sea, Earth and Life to make a plant grow, Sky and Fire to make a firestorm, and so on and so forth. You get the drift."
The image on the board shifted again. "Usual MEF combinations"
"So, you say, can I as a young, bright-tailed and bushy-eyed first-year Magid use all of them? Well, I've been here for a century and I can't use all of them. It's simply a matter of innate talent. You can't become proficient at a mef simply by reading about it, although there are instances where a Magid has, through years of research into a mef, been able to gain some ability in it, although nothing like as strongly as an innate talent. The usual broad -- and I mean very broad -- classifications are Sea and Sky as feminine mefs, Earth and Fire as masculine mefs, and Life as either. However, some notable exceptions occur -- Albus Dumbledore, for instance, has innate talents in all but Sky."
The next page was entitled "Schedule for Semester 1".
"Unfortunately for you, but fortunately for everyone who might be affected by your powers, you will not be instructed in the actual use of your powers until after Reading Week -- that's week 7 for those of you who haven't read the piles of literature you've been given. This is for the very good reason that we don't particularly want you blasting apart bits of St Andrews in your excitement. In fact, before you leave this room, the teaching team will, I'm afraid, have to put a bottleneck on your capabilities until then. This will, as I know from a hundred years of prior experience, prevent you from any embarrassing incidents. Ah, I see from the red faces around the room that some of you have already experienced a coital explosion or two. I do hope nobody you liked was injured."
Adamson looked around the room. "Right, since we do have to bottleneck you, that's as much of a lecture as you get today. However, please read the Introduction and Chapter 1 of Magids, Theory and Practice before tomorrow's lecture. Dr Hubble will be basing her lecture significantly around that. Any questions? No, all right. Would you please exit from the closest door to you. The teaching staff will be waiting outside to perform the bottleneck on each of you."
Nobody moved. "That's it. Off you go," Adamson said as a witch and two wizards walked in almost simultaneously. "Oh, incidentally," he remarked, pointing at the woman, who had long black hair tied at the nape falling down her back, "this is Dr Mildred Hubble, Lecturer in the Sky Force." He indicated the other men. "Professors Horatio Norton, Sea, and Ignatius Flamel, Fire. Professor Hiroko Aikatsu, Life Force, is in the middle of an important experiment concerning an elephant at the moment and so cannot be here. Right, first victim!"
People began to stand and shuffle towards the doors. Draco heard a blonde girl remarking in an American accent, "Like, I can't see why they have to put these stupid things on us, y'know? Like we're gonna go do stuff with our powers. It's so dumb!"
Draco rolled his eyes at Harry, who was walking towards another girl as if he knew her. "Minty?" he heard Harry ask. Craning his ears forward, he listened in to the conversation.
"Yes? Oh, wotcha Harry."
Wotcha? Does anyone use words like that any more? Draco thought, eyebrows raised.
Harry introduced the girl to Ron, and Draco turned aside to Martha Mkenyo, who was waiting in line next to him. "Where are you living in St Andrews?" he asked in a small-talky sort of way as they shuffled closer to the front of the room and Dr Hubble's door.
"The Kenyan Ministry of Magic owns a large house out on Largo Road," Martha explained. "All Kenyan students live there for at least their first year, and they can either stay there in subsequent years or find their own private accommodation."
"Er...not to sound foolish, but where's Largo Road?"
"Ages away, about twenty minutes' walk from here. There's a bus...do you know where the big Safeway supermarket is on the outskirts of town?"
"General idea of the area, yes."
"Right, head that way for twenty minutes on foot. The distance is a bit annoying, but it's nice and quiet and the neighbours don't ask what you're doing in the garden, that sorta thing." Martha searched her bag for a scrap of paper and scribbled down her address. "There you go, 44 Largo Road. Do drop by for tea or something. I'm sure the warden won't mind."
"Certainly, if I can find it," Draco said with a smile.
Martha beamed at him. "Great. Oh, excuse me, Draco, I spot one of my housemates. I must go tell him to avoid lunch. Cook was making a rather pungent stew as I was leaving."
Martha started to clamber over the line of chairs to the other line where a tall black wizard was waving to her. Draco turned back to Harry, who had just tapped him on the shoulder.
"Draco, this is Minty Hemberley. We ran into each other while I was registering and she was re-registering," Harry said with that open, friendly grin of his. "Minty, this is Draco Malfoy. We go way back at Hogwarts."
"Yes, if I remember correctly, I tried to have you expelled for at least four years," Draco said, smiling. "Minty...that's an interesting name."
He sized the girl up. She looked very down-to-earth, almost farmer-like in her clothing, a pair of worn jeans and a rustic-looking cream woollen jumper over a somewhat garish lumberjack shirt. Her mass of curly red hair fell back in a rather ineffectual ponytail which bushed out beneath the tieback elastic. Weasley must think he's spotted a millionaire, Draco thought, and then sighed. A bit uncharitable, no? he asked himself.
"It's short for Araminta," Minty explained. "The 1960s happened to my parents."
Draco raised his head knowingly. "I see. Where are you from? I don't remember seeing you at Hogwarts..."
"That's hardly surprising. I am 26 years old, after all. I probably graduated before you arrived."
"You don't look 26," Draco said reflexively.
"Ah, isn't he nice," she said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "My Magid power matured later than normal -- I was 25 before the explodey-things started."
"Ah, those explodey-things..." Harry mused quietly.
Their chat was interrupted as Draco was called forwards to receive the bottleneck of his powers. Dr Hubble, the only teaching witch in the room, motioned him forwards in a businesslike manner.
"Come along now," she said, placing her fingers around his forehead and temples and closing her eyes. Draco felt a slight pressure inside his head, which snapped away suddenly as he mentally prodded at it. He looked up at the tall witch, who was staring wide-eyed at him.
"What's your name?" she asked very quietly.
"Draco Malfoy," Draco replied bemusedly.
"Well, Mr Malfoy, you're a very strong one. Let's try that bottleneck again, only please relax and don't attempt to fight the bottleneck."
Draco apologised, looking somewhat sheepish.
"It's all right, I was just a little surprised. Anyway..." she placed her fingers on his head again and Draco felt the pressure going downwards through his head into his upper neck, and then the pressure was gone. "That's it," Dr Hubble said. "Off you go now."
Rubbing the back of his neck, which was a little sore, Draco walked out the door into an ultramarine blue corridor and leaned against the wall to wait for the others. Ron walked out first, followed shortly by Minty, who was rubbing the back of her neck.
"I s'pose it's got something to do with the location of your Magid Powers," Ron surmised, since as a non-Magid he'd not had the bottleneck done.
"Must do," Minty said absorbedly. Ron leaned against the wall next to Draco.
"So, Draco, who's the bird?"
"Bird, Weasley? Which bird would that be?"
"The one sitting next to you in the lecture, who you were talking to afterwards. You know, the one in the fancy dress."
"If you must know, that was an African tribal kikoye and dress from Kenya. The bird's name is Martha Mkenyo, and she's from Kenya."
"First name terms, eh, Draco? Getting a little bit jiggy with her?"
"First of all, Weasley, I am not 'getting jiggy' with anybody at the moment. Secondly, I can't recall the time you had a girlfriend since we were fifteen. And thirdly, were I to be 'getting jiggy' with anybody, you'd be the last to know." Draco paused. "Well, perhaps Hagrid would be the last to know. Or maybe Argus Filch. Anyway," he continued, "as the Americans say, 'butt out'."
"Bloody hell," Minty observed, "'ee can tell that you went to school together."
The moment that was reminding them all of being back in school ended as Harry walked out stooped over, grasping the back of his neck in pain.
"Harry?" Ron sounded very worried.
"S'okay," Harry muttered, but didn't object when Ron took his bag of parchment and quills from him.
"Seriously, what's wrong?" he asked as Minty and Draco looked on concernedly.
"Bottleneck. Hurts. Like I've slept on it for a month without turning over."
"Here," Minty said, moving behind Harry and starting to knead his neck and shoulders with her strong hands. "Move your head forwards. Now back. Left. Right. Forwards again."
"Remember who you have waiting for you back home, Potter," Draco warned bitingly.
"Draco, is it my imagination, or are you attempting to get someone to strangle you. Because if you are, I'd be only happy to help," Minty said obligingly. "Since Harry's neck's a little stiff, you understand."
"That's not the only--" Draco began.
"Shut it, Draco," Harry growled.
* * *
The next few weeks passed in a blur of quills, parchment and musty old books on Short Loan from the Institute's well-stocked but bizarrely-catalogued library, where Hermione was working in order to get the extra credits which allowed her to take first and second year Arithmancy in one year.
"I don't know how you manage it," Harry was saying to her as Draco walked into the kitchen one evening to find Harry obscured behind Momentous Magids and a bowl of pasta and Hermione leafing through rolls and rolls of parchment, obviously looking for some piece of information. He served himself from the bowl in the centre of the table and sat down next to Harry, pulling out a list of names and dates to learn for their tutorial the next day.
"Manage what?" Hermione said.
"Well, two classes in the morning and then Librarian Studies three afternoons a week, for one," Harry said between a mouthful of pasta.
"Honestly, Harry, it's hardly as much work as NEWTs were," she said as she scrolled through the parchment. "I don't even have to get up before ten here."
"It's bizarre, isn't it?" Draco broke in. "You go through school waking up between seven and eight for seven years without much of a complaint, and now you get to university and find that having a ten o'clock lecture is early."
"Mmm," Hermione said. "Of course, going to bed at three a.m. isn't exactly conducive to getting up at seven or eight..." She gave Harry a significant sort of look, making him blush scarlet. Draco raised an inquisitive eye, but decided on impulse to refrain from wondering aloud what going to bed at three a.m. was conducive to.
"Er, yes. Anyway, Harry, looking forward to the Classification tomorrow?" Draco poured himself a glass of Montepulciano D'Abruzzo from the bottle on the table and sipped at it.
"Yes, I am," Harry said as he spread parmesan on his pasta. "I was reading up on the Institute's texts about the process. It'll apparently be the first time that we get to visit the Ivory Tower -- the photographs I've seen of it are fantastic."
"Oh, there's a great description and some wonderful pictures of it in A Millennium At The Institute," Hermione put in. "All that granite intertwined with the quartz and obsidian...I'd love to see it."
"Where is it, geographically, I mean?" Draco asked.
"No clue, and none of the books say either," Hermione said. "It's supposed to be something of a secret."
"Ah..." Harry said. "That sounds just up our street."
"Oh, don't bother, Harry," Hermione said. "It's probably like Malfoy Mansion, it moves around. Draco, tell me more about this Classification thing. It sounded like it had a really big capital letter, so it must be important."
"Well, it is," Draco said. "It's essentially where we Magids get sorted into ability- and force-based groups. It's done on a percentile basis of all powers of all known Magids. To be accepted into the Institute, you must show at least a 60th percentile ability in at least one Magid Elemental Force. Harry and I, apparently, score above in all five of them."
Hermione turned to Harry accusingly. "And you were worried about me taking on too much!"
"Relax, Hermione," Harry said. "The plan is that we take one extra year to complete our sub-Honours. That will theoretically mean two years of three Forces and one year of two Forces."
"Yes," Draco said, "and since we're the only two people in this position for ten years, it's not like they have a whole load of people doing the same thing."
"So what does this Classification involve?" Hermione asked.
"It's apparently this great ceremony," Harry said, gesturing with his hands. "The five most powerful Magids in each Force all sit at the top of the Ivory Tower in a circle and attempt to draw as much power as possible through each Candidate. 60-70 percent is a Class 4, 70-80 is Class 3, 80-90 is Class 2, and 90+ is Class 1. The top five percent of each Class is A and the bottom five are B, so if I were in the seventy-third Fire percentile, I'd be 3B."
Hermione's eyes moved around the room, trying to work out all the maths involved. "I see. And is this procedure dangerous?"
"Not that I know. Of course, they'd hardly let us know if it were, would they?" Harry asked as Hermione unconsciously moved closer to him.
"That's terrifically comforting to someone who doesn't know if her boyfriend is going to come back more intelligent than a carrot," Hermione said reproachfully, prodding Harry in the arm.
Draco scraped the bottom of his bowl with a piece of bread and stood up. "Right, off to get some learning done," he said, waving his piece of parchment at them. "Nkethe Mdeyo, 1233-1589, writer of A Guide to Magid Power..." He placed the bowl on the countertop next to the sink and headed upstairs. Entering his room, he kicked off his shoes into the corner and flopped down on his bed, absentmindedly scratching the resident cat, Xander, under the chin.
Draco reached back and arranged his pillows to prop him up in a semi-sitting position while he continued to memorise the names and dates that served as triggers for his memory. "Henry Armathwaite, 1788-1995. Revolutionised the Fire MEF with his new approach in the early 1800s."
* * *
Draco awoke the next day to the light streaming through the curtains. He jumped out of bed with a glance at his clock which said "You really ought to shower now". Grabbing his towel from the radiator, he padded down the corridor and into the bathroom, showered quickly while singing to himself and, towel wrapped around his waist, grabbed his boxers and walked back out into the corridor. An appreciative-looking Kensington gave a friendly wolf-whistle from where he was leaning, pajama-bottoms-clad, against the opposite wall. "Morning," he said, eyeing Draco's chest.
"Morning," Draco said. "And don't be so obvious about lusting after my body."
"Lusting? Moi?" Kensington asked.
"Oui, toi," Draco said in a French accent that a six-year-old would have winced at.
Back in his room, he picked out his favorite shirt, the black, round-collared one with the classically understated dragon on the pocket, and the full-length, neck-clasping robe with high collar. The clock now said "You should be having breakfast by now", so he combed his hair, rubbed some hair wax into it and headed out into the corridor. Harry was descending from his own Tower and tossed a "good morning" at Draco as they met in the entrance hallway.
Scrambled eggs awaited them in the kitchen, but Siriol, their usual breakfast companion, was nowhere to be found. Xanthe Montrose walked in, dressed in a swishy skirt and bright yellow button-down shirt, as they were about halfway through their plates and forked some eggs into the middle of a bagel.
"Guys, we should be at the Transflector for the Ivory Tower in ten minutes, she said, leaning on the countertop and munching on the bagel.
Draco bolted down the rest of his breakfast and followed Harry and Xanthe out onto the road, squinting in the low morning sun. Harry called out to Minty Hemberley as she came out onto North Street from her flat, and hurried forward to meet her. Draco caught up with Xanthe and they walked together in silence as they approached the green door on Murray Park that was the entrance to the Institute's Transflector room.
Blinking to adjust his eyes to the comparative darkness, Draco smiled politely at the wizard sitting on a tall stool next to a large dial labelled with dozens of destinations such as The Ivory Tower, The Farm, Espeche Alley Transflector Centre, Vaternish, Duntulm and so on. On the floor were marked six purple circles, each large enough for a person to stand inside.
"More for the Ivory Tower?" the wizard asked them, pointing his wand expectantly at the Ivory Tower mark.
"Yes indeed," Harry said. "All four of us."
The wizard turned the dial to The Ivory Tower position and tapped a large spherical stone protruding from the wall four times. Four of the purple circles lit up as if from beneath. "Step onto the lit circles, please," the wizard said. "Just relax. This is probably your first Transflect."
With a dramatic flourish of his hand, he depressed the spherical stone into the wall. The four students saw a bright purple flash and disappeared.
"I love my job," the wizard remarked happily to the empty room.
* * *
Enjoyed it? Good! But wait...THERE'S MORE OF IT! Yes, that's right -- you've only read half of Chapter Six of the Song of Time! Point your browser over to Crazy Ivan's very own section of Schnoogle.com, part of the FictionAlley.org community of high-quality, novel-length fanfiction, to read the rest of it -- and every subsequent part of the Song of Time.
Schnoogle.com has been set up in order to showcase some of the finest works of Harry Potter-based fanfiction available on the internet. Here's a current (July 22nd) list of the wonderful authors whose work appears at Schnoogle.com:
- A.L. Milton
- Al
- Alicia/Sue
- Ebony AKA AngieJ
- Barb AKA BarbLP
- Camille and Quill
- Cassandra Claire
- Catlady
- Crazy Ivan (that's me!)
- Flourish
- George Weasley's Girlfriend
- Heidi AKA heidi tandy
- J.L. Matthews
- Lori
- Narri
- Penny and Carole
- R.J. Anderson
- Rhysenn
- Viola
- Yael
And remember...a schnoogle a day keeps boredom away :)