Prologue
I, personally, have nothing against muggles. Of course, certain circumstances prevent me from meeting many, but the ones I've met seemed decent, hard-working people (when they weren't trying to set me on fire of course). Obviously, somebody was a bit annoyed at muggles not knowing about us, which is how the whole Dark Lord idea came about, somebody who wants to destroy al muggles. Why does nobody but me seem to realise that that would be pointless. What would it achieve? Everybody believes that Voldemort wants to kill, maim and enslave all muggles.
No offence, anyone, but you are all idiots for believing that. How is it possible! There's billions of them! There's only thousands of us, and we are so spread out that we haven't got a chance. Another important fact is that, in truth, they're way better at killing than we are. One in a hundred wizards can cast Avada Kedavra, whereas a muggle picks up a gun and presses a trigger. Yes, we can cast protego – If we notice the muggle hiding a few hundred metres away. Hmph. Not likely. What use is a shield if you don't see the bullet? So killing is out of the question.
Maiming, simply takes ages. I should know, because in my youth I did it from time to time after they irritated me, (after all, some people are so dimwitted!), and a good maiming takes at least twenty minutes.
Enslaving, what would be the point? It takes a muggle hours to do a job we can wave a stick at, and achieve instantly. Nobody, frankly needs a muggle to do it for us, least of all Voldemort. He's powerful, he can do more of these tasks and quicker than anyone else. There would be nothing achieved, if Voldemort was chasing these goals. He cannot kill many of them, he doesn't have time to maim the all, and enslaving them would be pointless.
I suppose what I'm trying to say, is that there is a loose thread. Pull at it for too long, and the whole jumper unwinds. Harry's used to pulling threads, what with the old clothes he wears. But for once, this thread he has to tug at, until Dumbledore's illusion falls apart...
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Author: Jacobim Von Styluss
Disclaimer: Nope, nope, not mine, it belongs to a very nice woman called Jo. Shame really, if it was mine, I would be set for life instead of spending my weekends sticking screwdrivers in stuff or hitting walls with hammers (actually, the latter is rather fun). Ah well...
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"Well, shall we go to Hernan's then?"
At the nods Harry received from Dudley and Petunia, he took a step forward. And everything went strange. While looking at the shocked faces of his upside-down relatives, he burst into laughter.
Ten seconds later...
"Oh, I love this charm," He said through the occasional muffled giggle. He'd just about cleared up the laughter, and then took a step forward. Nothing happened, his relatives' faces were still upside-down to him.
"Bugger."
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"You now, I'm getting a sinking feeling the Wizarding world was meant for me." declared Dudley, and took a step. Everything turned normal. "You weren't upside-down Harry, we were. Sounds like whoever made this street was a..."
"Psychopath?"
"Exactly. Anyway, they'd probably done something to stop you realising who was upside-down.."
"Makes sense, a notice-me-not charm targeted to a fact though, rather than a tangible object, that's a genius bit of charmwork." Muttered Harry.
"Notice-me-not? Which creative genius came up with that name?" snorted Dudley, who obviously did not think that the particular charm met the usual wizarding criteria for naming, as in: weird.
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Harry had taken three steps down the street, planning to find the shops fairly quickly, yet whoever designed the street were intent on making idiots out of it's less experienced or wary visitors. Harry fell for the oldest trick in the book – he fell down a manhole. And it took bloody ages to get out of, as well.
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"Am I the only one who thinks that finding anything in this street is a real bugger?" said Dudley.
A slightly soggy (the manhole was filled with soapy water, for no reason at all) Harry turned and glared at him. "No, because in case you haven't noticed, we've both been here for the past hour as well, looking for the shop. Geez!" Petunia was looking a tad frazzled, and a bit stressed. Understandably, considering Harry and Dudley had been at this all afternoon. Harry had a short fuse, and Dudley, well, he was either a bit dim, or winding Harry up. Probably a bit of both, she mused. Something's got to rub off from Vernon, and anyway, for the past few years Dudley really didn't put in any effort. It was overall lucky he would be going to a magical school, as nobody would expect him to be at a certain level.
Harry's naturally short fuse was shrunk by the hot weather, and the tediousness of the task. And Holly Petunia Evans-Dursley decided something. She'd had enough.
She turned on her heel, planning on just shouting the boys, and letting them follow. She looked up, opening her mouth to call their names. And saw the one most ironically timed sight of her life;
Hernan's weaponry store. It was a small building, a tiny thatched cottage really.
"Harry, Dudley, shut the hell up and get over here." Their heads snapped up at the call, and both blushed at the admonishment. They followed Petunia into the shop, feeling decidedly sheepish. However, when they opened the door, all they saw through it was black. They froze, completely astonished.
"What the hell?" breathed Harry. He reached forward, and touched the inky blackness. He felt a strange prickling leading up his arm, and and experienced the sensation that he'd pushed into someone's memories, via a penseive. The sucking in feeling was the same.
He got a very strange feeling of being sucked for miles, and yet only travelling for a few seconds.
He landed on his feet, his relatives following closely behind.
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The sight that greeted the previous residents of number 4 Privet Drive, upon entering Harry's investment, was awesome. They looked around, seeing racks of guns, swords, a shield department, and various traditional and cultural weapons. A couple of people were breezing round the shop, or talking to staff assistants. The shop appeared to be endless, with stacked boxes above the displays reaching higher than the ceiling in the Hogwarts great hall.
"Can I help you?" asked a man with scruffy light-brown hair, a cigarette out of a corner of his mouth, and an arm in a sling.
Harry and his relatives span round. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter." Harry stopped here, not really knowing what to say after that. Luckily, the man was informed of the ownership change.
"Ah, Mr. Potter. I was informed you would be dropping around soon by the goblins in London. My name's Hernan, I'm currently the manager, and previous owner." He reached out to Harry with his good hand, which Harry accepted in a firm handshake. "Fancy a tour, boss?" Grinned Hernan. "That'd be great, thanks underling." They shared a smirk. Petunia and Dudley exchanged a look.
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Hernan was like a kid in a candy store, dashing round with statements like, "Ah, this department was added a couple of years back," or "You'll love this, just imported from china, dates back to twelfth century,". By the end of the tour they had visited various weird departments, such as Asia, which had a huge stock of various weapons from the legendary warriors of oriental Asia, such as Samurai and Ninja. Weapons included ninja-to, Katanas, and even a set of claws built into a glove. Each weapon could be bought with additional charms layered upon it, but they were extra.
During the tour, Harry spied a price list for additional charms;
Unbreakable G:750
Unblemish G:45
SharpeningG:200
Recall G:750(Hernan explained that this allowed the owner to summon it without his wand.)
Invisible G:1250(On/Off function)
Magnetism G:3450(This meant to a small extent the sword would aid parrying)
Also, various spells could be imbued into the sword, allowing it to perform those spells built into it. A favourite was reducto, however an occasional smart customer would request accio, allowing a weak opponent to be summoned onto his sword. Gory, but very practical. A useful function, without doubt.
Another department was Modern, which had been divided into Melee, with commando knives and other small practical knives, Projectile, which was a huge section with a great range of assault rifles, pistols and sniper rifles amongst others, and the explosives section. Grenades and mines adorned the walls of this corner of the shop; flashbangs, smokes, and fragmentation all with their own shelf.
All in all, Hernan's weaponry store was an anarchist's wet dream. Enough weapons to declare war on a reasonably sized nation, and still come out on top, with excellent additional charms. For example, although there was no unlimited ammunition charm, there was a charm which allowed a single clip to be linked to your entire supply of ammo, meaning no reload down-time.
When the tour was complete, Harry asked to get a Katana, and a lot of charms imbued, including the entire price list, and the Incendio, Reducto and Accio charms.
He was taken behind the store, where there was a large group of master craftsmen, all building swords, a factory assembly line creating the guns, and a couple of offices for the charmsmen.
"Normally, a customer would take his weapon in there and the charmsman would enchant the sword, while also removing the anti-theft charm." Said Hernan, striding over to a cashdesk, and quickly keyed all the details of Harry's order into a small machine, and tapping his finger on a little button, get an order slip printed. "The anti-theft charm was created by me, and would remove access to the portal. Basically, somebody would try to use it but the portal will refuse to transport them."
"That reminds me; It's obvious we aren't in Siecoe Path any longer, but where are we now? That shop would never hold all this."
"This place is 2 miles under New York. No muggles are gonna accidentally stumble across this place, no way." Harry flicked an eyebrow up at the slightly strange man. "Okaaay..." Harry backed up a little.
"Why the hell two miles underground?"
Hernan shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
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Harry entered one of the charmsman offices. It was large, spacey and seemed like an apartment more than a place of work, and while there was a desk straight ahead from the door, and an anvil (which pulsed in sheer power; Harry made a note to ask about that) in the corner, doors led onto different rooms. It appeared the charmsmen lived in these rooms.
Harry rang a bell upon the desk, and immediately a voice sounded from behind him;
"Looking for me, Mr. Potter?" The reaction of shock and surprise the craftsman expected, failed to come to pass. Harry looked up, but little more. 'Excellent' he thought, Few customers were unfazed by his appearing trick. However, no emotion was shown on his face. The man refused to give away any information, despite it's irrelevance.
Harry turned around slowly. "Yes, actually," he drawled. "By the way, any relation to Ollivander? That was similar to his favourite party trick."
"He is my brother."
Harry looked at the man silently; he was undoubtedly Asian, probably Japanese. He looked ancient. "If that is true, why do you look nothing like him?" Harry asked.
"I look exactly like him, Mr. Potter. He is my twin." Harry raised an eyebrow, before an appreciative smile graced his face. "Glamours." he stated, smirking. The man looked upon him with smiling eyes. "Which of you are wearing a fake face, you, him or... both?"
The man let a faint smile grace his features, the first emotion to be shown yet in the conversation. "My, you are inquisitive. Try and guess, Mr. Potter."
'Definitely a Slytherin. In that case...'
"Both." Harry spoke. "I don't think your true age is as it appears. Nor Ollivander, because nobody so 'frail' would be able to sneak up on my so easily. That takes fleet of foot, and agility."
The man still refused to provide confirmation, but Harry knew he was correct. "Try to guess my true age, Mr. Potter."
Harry cocked an eyebrow, realising the man was testing him. "You know as well as me that that is a futile task. You provide neither correction nor answer, so I need not play along with your game. Now, tell me your name."
The man smirked. "You pass. You can call me Li-Fang, or just Fang, and my age is thirty-one."
"But that is not your true name."
"No, it is not." 'Damn, this kids quicker than any adult I've met' He thought, impressed. Even he wasn't that fast at that age, and he was a Slytherin.
Harry changed topic, noticing that the battle of wits had taken twenty-five minutes already. "I am here to have a sword charmed," and handed the order slip over to Li-Fang.
"Yes, I guessed that." said Li-Fang with that really annoying Mona-Lisa half smile on his face.
Harry rolled his eyes to the heavens and sighed, as if asking what he did to deserve this.
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Harry was starting to like the man. He was a completely closed off git, very secretive, and strange. All that he had gleaned was that the man was a Slytherin in his time. Harry suspected that the faux-aged enchanter only let that slip, because he knew Harry had already figured it out. Nobody was that secretive outside of the snakes-house. However, Li-Fang never lied, said it was against his sense of honour. So long as Harry asked a direct question Li-Fang would not lie. However, Harry had to read into the words very carefully, for the older wizard enjoyed misleading Harry. He knew this was a battle of wits, but could not tell if this was for the charmsman's entertainment, practise, or if he was simply being tested. Harry's personal theory was that Fang was doing both.
Harry was surprised by the older man, as he managed to not slip in his battle for words with Harry while still enchanting the blade. Harry was enjoying the game in the same way one appreciates a game of chess against somebody offering a true challenge, attempting to see through all of his opponent's veiled words, and while he did not succeed completely, he thought he was improving all the while. Even if Fang did not realise, he was an excellent teacher.
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After a hour or so (Harry really hoped Hernan was looking after his relatives, otherwise they must be really bored by now), his sword was done. Before it's enchantments, it was a fine specimen of how a sword should look, but now... it was magnificent. Swirling colour, hues of gold, silver and just a hint of green in the blade, with a jet black handle. Li-Fang picked it up, and twirled it round a few times in an elaborate dance, threw it in the air, spinning it before catching it by the blade. He handed it hilt first to Harry. Harry took it, still looking impressed at the display of swordsmanship.
Li-Fang picked up a sheath that came with the sword (A craftsman delivered it, after Li-fang sent the slip through a fax to a different department) and buckled around Harry's torso, shoulder to waist, allowing him to draw it from behind his back.
Harry was about to leave, before a thought came upon him:
"How do I use this thing?"
Li-Fang started to chuckle. Then burst out laughing.
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"I can teach you, if you want?" replied Li-Fang, once the laughter had subsided, although a silly grin was still upon his face.
"Thank god for that, for a second there I thought I would have to submit to marauder-style dueling; Act like a complete idiot, have them laugh at you so much that they can't concentrate, and then hit 'em with something hard." This philosophy was taught to Harry by Moony and Padfoot, who over the past year had some quite enlightening tips on dueling.
Fang sniggered, replying "I'll have to remember that one."
"Anyway, I'm moving to Bulgaria but I'm gonna ask for a entrance to this place in Thessaloniki, so once that's done, we can arrange my sword lessons?"
Upon Li-Fang's nod, Harry left the office/apartment with a cheerful farewell.
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Harry was feeling quite cheerful he exited Siecoe Path with his relatives; He had a beautiful new sword (Currently invisible), Hernan had agreed to commission a new portal to be installed in Thessaloniki, and he was feeling smug anyway:
Flashback
Harry still had a grin on his face when he strode up to Hernan, who looked gobsmacked for some reason.
"What's with the fish impression?"
"Wha... no... Nobody comes out of Li-Fang's office without feeling at least a bit confused... the man even disorientates me." muttered Hernan.
"Guess I'm just special. Anyway, he's just playing word games with you, they aren't that hard. Right, I need a favour. Could you get a door sorted for Thessaloniki?"
"Yeah, sure..." Hernan was clearly still dazed.
End flashback
Harry really loved shocking people. He had that wicked streak that his father had, and Petunia and Dudley had the same thought going through their head – 'Durmstrang won't know what's hit it.'
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Albus Dumbledore was cursing his complacency. His pawn had been away from privet drive for hours, and he'd made it clear that Harry was to go nowhere. He snarled to himself 'Does that boy have to be so difficult? He has no right to go against me, obstinate brat.'
If Harry had owled him with a message explaining any reasons why he'd leave Privet Drive, he would have been placated, because then he would be proving he was still a nice, obedient pawn. But no, he had left, probably to prove he was his own person, to prove he had a life of his own. But dammit, that boy had a duty to him. "He belongs to me!" He yelled, confident in the knowledge there was nobody there to hear.
"If he continues to act like this, I will have to use the collar. He will be obedient, and do whatever I wish, even wishing nothing more than to please my every need. At least I will have the Potter brat, he cannot escape. Damn it all, I've worked so hard to make him my perfect little chess piece, and now he's trying to fight his way out. He has no right." He pulled a thin metal collar out of the desk drawer, from a small stack. It reeked of dark magic, and was his greatest creation. "I never told Nicolas the other use for dragons blood," He mused, smiling to himself.
Albus Dumbledore made a mistake. He thought he was alone.
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Dobby was in the kitchens, and he was worried. He had been given the job in the kitchens, and thought that Master Dumbledore sir was a fantastic wizard, the second only to Harry Potter. "But how could mister Dumbly sound so bad, he isn't a nasty man like Voldie-mort." He murmured to himself. Winky had said that she heard him talking to himself, and he sounded so malicious.
At that moment Winky sped into the kitchens, yelling for him.
"Winky? What is it?" he squeaked.
"I heard mister Dumbly talking, and I think he was talking about Harry Potter. He said 'He belongs to me', but very loud. Later on he said 'At least I will have the Potter brat, He cannot escape.' We have to go warn him. He sounded so nasty and vicious." she squealed, sounding terrified that her master Dumbly could say something like that.
"I'll warn him. First, tell me everything you heard." And so Winky said everything, and Dobby sped off to find Harry.
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And thus ends chapter 6
Erm, do you wanna know something weird? I can't even remember much of this chapter, I feel like I wrote it so long ago, because (as you probably know by now) I write one chapter ahead. Thus, if anything sucks or doesn't match, just mention it.
Well, obviously you now know the mysterious female from the competitions. However, the other one is still open.
Who is the narrator, from the prologues?
I based him upon two characters, and basically he is both, in a sense. There are plenty of hint in his attitude. If you get this correct, you can have a chapter early, or design a character, (ie describe his/her looks, his/her personality etc) to be used as a student at Durmstrang, or possibly a teacher (you decide which).
Sweet-Little-Yugi – I can (and will) do loads (Grins). Eventually we will get a faintly weird slash pairing, a different country & school (although a couple of recognizable figures, otherwise my plot wouldn't go anywhere), and whatever comes to me at the time. Most of this, I'm guessing my way through, I have no idea what the ending will look like. I'm glad you like this, it's great to have a loyal reviewer. I had a couple who had been reviewing since chapter one, but they didn't this time around. Darn, reviews are always wanted.
Random reviewer - Well, I have to keep up the naming tradition! Also, the name suits the street, I find (grins).
Heather – Are you the same Heather who reviewed a while back? What with it being anonymous, it's hard to be sure. I plan on continuing writing, and I hopefully will rewrite my other story soon, and get some decent sized chapters. Dudley will be sticking to a school schedule with some extra tutoring (so he can progress quicker. After all, he'd be five years behind, some catching up would be sensible, and being twenty-odd and surrounded by fourteen and fifteen year olds in the future isn't a great position to be in), but Harry will be dropping in on certain classes, ignoring others because they aren't important to him. Nobody will mind too much; he pays the teachers wages. Eventually, Dumbles will face punishment, but he is the master manipulator, the Wizengamot have known him for years, and will refuse to believe he is guilty. Ron and Hermione haven't done much, but things will progress, and then Harry will deal out vengeance. I like vengeful Harrys!
Did you enjoy this?
Give me feedback, because every review is appreciated (except flames, they're just ridiculous), and in fact every positive review I read convinces me to write more and more. So, please, if you like it, review. You'll guilt me into writing quicker :D