A/N: There was a lot to say about this chapter, so I put the author's notes at the end for those of you who are interested. But basically, this is an important chapter, and that's why it took so long to get out. I hope you find that it was worth the wait!
With a sharp crack, Harry appeared in his quarters at the SGC. Opening the door, he was unsurprised to see that no one was currently working on his wards. That sort of thing was hardly a priority with a scouting force in orbit preparing for a planetary invasion.
Harry quickly made his way up to Dr. Weir's office, nodding to a few familiar faces along the way. When he arrived, he knocked sharply on the door.
Dr. Weir was quite surprised to see him. "Harry! I thought you were in Antarctica!"
Harry grinned. "I was. I came back once the weapon was set up. I figured I might be more use around here than down there. Sam's quite smart enough to turn the thing back on herself, and O'Neill can operate it without a wizard present."
"You…" Dr. Weir looked quite bewildered, "how did you get back from Antarctica so quickly?"
Harry winked at her. "A magician never reveals his tricks. Besides, it's nothing you haven't seen before."
"You mean…that popping thing you did…that was actually teleportation?"
Harry nodded. "We call it apparition, but yes. I just popped back into my quarters and then came straight here. So, is there anything in the works that I can help with?"
At this, Dr. Weir hesitated. "That…might not be necessary. In fact, it might even be better for you to go back to Antarctica, in the unlikely event that something does go wrong with the weapon."
"Really?" Harry asked, "There's absolutely nothing up here that could use a wizard's touch? No tactical advice you might want to seek out?"
Dr. Weir drew a deep breath in, looking unsure of herself. "Well…"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well…?"
Dr. Weir let out a distressed sigh. "It's complicated…frankly Mr. Potter, while you're our 'resident wizard,' you've given me very little idea what that title actually means. General Hammond left some nice notes about you, but you're still incredibly mysterious and I just can't justify involving you in such a critical combat mission. Major Carter seemed to think that the mission to Antarctica was a special case, but what we're talking about now…to be honest I don't even know how much help you could be."
"That's fair enough," Harry said. And if Sam's anger upon finding out that he'd copied their Alteran database was any indicator, perhaps a little honesty might be a good policy here. "I haven't exactly been open about my abilities. The ways I can see myself being useful to a plan like this one…I'm an ace pilot, flier, and all around stellar navigator if you need someone like that. As you probably know already, I'm worth about a hundred normal infantry troops on the ground if the fighting ever gets that far, possibly more than that if the enemy…cooperates. I can operate just as effectively over water as in the air, though I don't have a lot of experience at underwater combat. So, does any of that sound useful?"
Dr. Weir stared at Harry for several long seconds. "…your file makes you out to be much more of a…tech genius, I suppose, than a man of action."
Harry laughed at that. "I killed my first Dark Lord at the age of 18, Doctor. My interest in technology and theoretical magical studies came much later in life." Scratching his chin thoughtfully, Harry continued, "Though you do bring up a decent point. It might be better for me to play a supporting role, since this is only the second time you've really seen me in action. I can't really set up effective defenses on such short notice, but if you have something you want disguised I could probably whip up a large-scale illusion or two. I can also reinforce materials to a frankly ridiculous degree, if that would be helpful, teleport around if communications get knocked out, conjure up a variety of things from thin air, maybe even spy on the enemy ships, or…well, your imagination is the limit, really. Magic is quite versatile."
Dr. Weir got a thoughtful look on her face. "You said…illusions? What kind of illusions?"
Harry thought back to the frankly embarrassing number of illusions he'd invented over the years for pranking purposes, but then decided it was better not to mention those. "It depends. If it just needs to look right on scanning instruments and a visual sweep I can set up a fake military installment or two, though it probably wouldn't be able to launch any attacks, and the deception works better from a distance. I could probably create a fake 'destroyed' base, if you want it to look like some key target was successfully neutralized. And if you want a more complicated trick, I can probably pretend to be some kind of stationary weapons platform as a distraction. Some of the spells I have resemble traditional or even high-tech weaponry pretty well, and I could probably hide the fact that it would just be one guy behind all of it. Make it look like your ace in the hole, as it were, to distract from the Antarctic outpost."
"That sounds pretty useful, actually," Dr. Weir said, "do you think you could give me a demonstration? If I'm going to recommend that you be allowed to help, I should probably see with my own eyes what you're capable of."
That sounded pretty fair to Harry. As he considered his options given the limited space in the room, the wizard almost kicked himself. He was demonstrating illusions. That meant he didn't have to worry about things like that.
Visualizing the image he wanted in his head and then adding other sensory details like smell, sound, and texture, Harry called up Inter. Theoretically, a mage could do this sort of thing on their own, but Harry found it much easier to have an extra intelligence focusing on keeping up the little details while he worked on the big picture. Then Harry began to cast the actual illusion magic. The very first thing he did was cast privacy enchantments over the room and cover himself with an illusion that mimicked his own appearance. Those spells he could cast with barely a flick of his wrist, but the rest required quite a bit more work. Settling into a casting rhythm, Harry first conjured up a dramatic wind that would give the impression of an oncoming storm. Then he took several steps with actual body away from his illusory form, hiding his actual body with a simple disillusionment and the ever-intensifying wind that was forcing Dr. Weir to shield her eyes. After that the wizard began leaking power into the atmosphere. Nothing too serious, but enough to get even a muggle's attention and send a few shivers down their spine at close range.
Finally, Harry started on the main attraction. His illusory form's eyes began to glow a terrible red color as it started, slowly, to grow in size. The illusion lifted its arms melodramatically and let out a laugh far too deep for human vocal chords. As the illusion grew more and more distracting, Harry took advantage of Dr. Weir's shock to conjure a sizeable cushion behind her which he immediately disillusioned. Then he refocused on the illusion, which was now reaching the height of the room they were in. Harry had the illusion crouch down and begin to glow a pale red even as a low hum filled the air, giving the impression of gathering power. Then the illusion exploded dramatically outwards, revealing its 'true form,' which resembled a gigantic classical demon with a spaded tail, black claws and horns, cloven feet, vicious teeth, and glowing red eyes. Harry heard Dr. Weir breathe in sharply in shock.
Letting out another malevolent laugh, the illusory demon gathered a ball of crimson energy in one hand, letting it grow for several seconds before throwing it down at its feet. As the energy impacted the floor, Harry cast a spell on Dr. Weir that would make her feel as though a great tremor was running through the ground underneath her, and then focused on making glowing cracks weave their way across the floor.
The demon leered hideously at Dr. Weir, then bent down and picked her up. As it did, Harry levitated her into the air, using several complicated spells to make it feel as though a demonic hand was wrapped around her body. He even filled the air around her with the odor of sulfur and a general 'demonic' stink. As the slightly panicked woman rose higher and higher into the air, Harry slid the conjured cushion under her for safety's sake. By this point the floor visible through the cushion looked downright unstable, and Harry prepared several spells for the grand finale. Then, with a tremendous crash, the floor gave way, and suddenly, as far as Dr. Weir was concerned, she was falling through the depths of the earth in the hand of a gigantic demon. Harry perpetuated this sensation for around ten seconds, using a bit of perceptual trickery to make the experience feel realistic undoubtedly terrifying. The wizard was quite sure he heard a scream of terror, which was he took as his cue.
With an abrupt twist of reality and a wave of his wand, the illusions all melted away as Harry released Dr. Weir softly onto the now-visible cushion. Her scream petered out, she bounced gently on the soft surface, before limply lying there in a state of shock.
Harry cleared his throat, drawing attention to the real him. "Was that an adequate demonstration, Doctor?"
"I…I would say so…" the woman said faintly. "The demon...I was falling…how did you...and the demon-"
"Breathe, Dr. Weir," Harry soothed, "everything is quite all right and I was in full control the whole time. I'll explain what happened to you in a moment. But in order to demonstrate the full effect of a proper illusion I had to show you the flashy bits first, before I demystify the whole process and ruin the effect."
The newly assigned head of Stargate Command took a deep, measured breath. Harry supposed that as a negotiator she might have experience with calming herself in times of crisis, though he doubted she'd been through anything quite like this before.
"Are you feeling better?" the wizard asked gently.
Dr. Weir nodded. "What…what was that?"
Harry smiled. "Just a bit of magical trickery and sensory manipulation. The demon was mostly visual, though the wind was real. The hardest parts was making you think that the demon had actually picked you up, and then making you feel like you were falling through an infinite void when you were really just suspended in midair a few feet off of the ground. Well, that and making sure that you didn't see the cushion before you landed on it."
Dr. Weir stared at Harry in disbelief. He understood what she was going through. Every time he saw magic do something new and exciting, or even just when he took a moment to marvel over the impressive inner volume he could give to the sleeves on his robe, he felt the same sense of awe.
"So," he said as he helped her stand up, "do I get a good recommendation?"
…
Harry stared into the empty desert, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that, at least in this reality, the Area 51 conspiracy nuts were a whole lot closer to the truth than they had any right to be. He was a bit surprised that they'd chosen Nevada as the location for his charade, but he supposed that they were already keeping the place under tight security, so one more top-secret explosion wouldn't be as difficult to explain away if someone caught on to what was happening.
Still, he thought to himself, they could at least have given him some material to work with. As it was it looked like he'd need to use the desert sand to form a solid structure that would appear on radar and any similar instruments. Flicking his wand out, Harry set about doing just that. He kept the general shape simple, because apparently the SGC did have one ship they were using to take on the scouting force, and there were real people fighting so that he'd have the time to whip up his illusory ruse.
Once he'd formed the basic shape, which ended up being a large, seven-sided crystal made entirely of glass, he began casting several enchantments on the 'weapon.' As he worked, he idly carved runes into the glass with his spare hand, ensuring that the structure would rapidly absorb magical energy from its surroundings. Despite the lack of apparent life, this location had a fair amount of magic in the air, possibly attracted by the underground experiments he'd heard someone mention.
When he was finished, the result was a crystal slowly beginning to hum with energy, preparing to put on decent show for the attackers as it gathered even more power for the explosive finale. Taking the radio he'd been given out of his pocket and removing the shielding he'd conjured for it, Harry spoke into the little device. "This is Potter. Everything's ready here."
After a slight delay the response came. "We hear you, Potter. Get ready for company."
Harry looked up into the sky. He knew he was working with the U.S. government, and he'd even heard that there was some international cooperation around the Stargate program. But still, actively inviting hostile alien warships into U.S. airspace? He shook his head in disbelief. These people were his kind of crazy.
Several minutes later, Harry noticed a bright flash in the sky above him. Casting a quick ocular aid charm, Harry could just make out one blocky ship being chased by two large…pyramid shaped ships? Well, that wasn't something you saw every day. Weapons fire was being traded both ways, and from this distance it was hard to tell whether anyone was doing better or worse. Turning to his improvised 'crystal,' Harry cracked his knuckles. "Showtime," he said aloud, grinning to himself.
To start, he activated the array of enchantments he'd cast to create a believable human research station. There were even illusory technicians running about, with realistic heat signatures and even fake heartbeats. To an outside viewer, it would look as though they had been under a cloaking field, but in reality they was just to help sell the idea that this was a haphazard construction, thrown together in desperation. Then he began pouring magic into the crystal himself, merging himself in the gathered energy until it felt like an extension of his being. And then…he fired the weapon. Initially he'd considered a ruse which involved a fake 'charge up' cycle that lasted just long enough to cause a dramatic explosion, but then he'd dismissed that as too complicated. If the weapon was to be believable, it needed to do some damage.
And as the crimson beam lanced up to strike one of the Goa'uld ships, he actually saw the ship falter a bit. That was a surprise. Either the Goa'uld's shields were weaker than he'd expected, maybe due to the ridiculous shape of their ships, or the SGC's ship had managed to do some real damage in their fight. Shaking the thought from his mind, Harry took aim at the same ship. If he could actually shoot one of the ships down, that was all the better. The second shot actually seemed to penetrate the shields, and Harry saw what was probably a plume of fire where the beam struck the ship.
That, unfortunately, was where things started to go wrong. The damaged ship began to retreat, likely seeking to get out of range of Harry's little light show. After a moment, the other ship also began to retreat, though they continued to fire on the SGC's ship even as they fled.
Whoops. Harry had forgotten that a scouting mission would prioritize returning alive over attacking an unknown weapon. The enchantments he'd imbued into the crystal to ensure that muggles ignored the beam might have been increasing the Goa'uld's wariness, as well. Getting shot at by a mysterious, half-hidden planet-based weapons platform would make most experienced warriors cautious, let alone a scouting force. He should have waited until they were closer, so that they would be more likely to engage him directly.
Even as he thought that, he saw the Goa'uld ships cease firing, probably as they left their effective weapons range. They were still inside of his range, because at its core the thing was just an overpowered laser pointer, and it could shoot all the way to space, but shooting them now would defeat the purpose of the exersize. Withdrawing himself from the magic enough to avoid frying his radio, Harry got out the device. He imagined he'd need to get in contact with the SGC now that the plan had gone a bit sour, "Potter here. Sorry about that, I didn't realize that the Goa'uld were bloody cowards."
Before the SGC had a chance to respond, however, Harry noticed a bright yellow light above him and a loud humming sound. That was all the warning he got before a massive explosion rocked the desert around him, fortunately missing him by a fair margin. Fucking hell, they weren't out of range. They'd just been acquiring a new target; him!
Throwing himself back into the weapon's magic, Harry quickly fired off a shot at the still-retreating ships. In his haste, his shot went wide and missed both ships entirely. Cursing and casting a more intense magnifying charm, Harry fired another shot, and that one hit one of the ships. Probably the one he hadn't damaged, since he didn't see any explosions this time. Then the he saw both ships begin to disgorge a hailstorm of yellow energy. Suddenly remembering that this wasn't actually a suicide mission, Harry pictured his lab in the SGC and apparated away as quickly as he could.
Just before he vanished, he felt a shock of heat and hot sand hit him. Then he slipped into the chaos that was apparition, and vanished.
…
Harry came to slowly, and quite painfully. It felt like his whole sandpaper had been run over his back before being pressed into him under a giant's foot. Groaning, he tried to move one of his arms. It hurt like hell, but everything seemed to work. Wiggling his toes went over pretty well too, or at least it felt like it did. Still, every move he made caused a fresh wave of pain from the rear of whatever body part he was moving. His robe had probably taken the brunt of the damage from superheated flying sand, but damn did capital ships hit hard. He was lucky their second shot hadn't been much more accurate than their first.
Grunting and moaning in pain, Harry stood up and habitually checked the time with Inter. Then he stopped, frowning. At least frowning didn't hurt. Wait, no, why had nearly a day passed! Surely someone would have noticed him…oh. The aversion charm on the door to his lab had probably stopped any curious visitors. Damn! Wincing as he walked, Harry stepped over to the door and opened it. Outside was the same hallway that had been there last time he checked, with no sign of damage. It seemed they hadn't lost the fight just yet.
Making his way to the infirmary, Harry was surprised to find that there weren't any people in the halls. Normally the SGC was a fairly active workplace for all of the people keeping the place running, experimenting on samples from off-world, or running security sweeps. But during his short trek to the infirmary, he didn't meet a single soul.
When he arrived, however, the place seemed empty, though the door to Janet's office was open. Looking inside, he saw her and a few nurses hunched over a radio, which was apparently patched into the battlefield communications, because the man on the other end was talking breathlessly about glowing lights annihilating an enemy fleet. At least the decoy plan had successfully drawn in Anubis's forces, and it sounded like O'Neill was blowing them to smithereens with the Alterran drone launcher. Still, more pressing matters were currently on Harry's mind.
"Er…" Harry coughed wetly. Maybe more than just his back had taken a beating in the explosion. "Janet?"
"What…oh my God, Harry!" the Chief Medical Officer quickly slid into place as she took in Harry's condition. "What happened to you? We heard that you were killed!"
Harry grimaced. "Yeah, it's been a while since I've been in a scrape like that. Fortunately, I got out just as all the exploding really got started. But…well, I may have gone and gotten myself blown up again." Harry grinned sheepishly, remembering his earlier assurances that he would avoid doing just that.
"Oh my, let's get you onto a bed. Dana, get me some morphine and disinfectant. Leanne, fetch some clean water and bandages." As the nurses rushed to get the appropriate supplies, Janet guided Harry to a bed. "Where does it hurt?"
Harry groaned. "Everywhere. Everywhere that isn't my front. Blast must have hit behind me."
"All right then, let's get you on your front then." Janet sucked in a sharp breath as he did. If his back looked anything like it felt, it probably wasn't good, but Janet was a professional, so all she said was, "I think we're going to have to get you out of that robe, Harry."
Great. And he'd have to enchant a new one after he recovered, no doubt. Still, it had done its job admirably. With slow, careful movements, the wizard gently peeled the robe off of his back, helped along by Janet's gloved hands. It almost felt like removing a second skin as they peeled it off of his wounded flesh. His underclothes, unfortunately, were in even worse shape than his robe had been. Hardly batting an eye, Janet closed the bedside curtains and offered him an open-backed medical gown that he gratefully donned after removing what was left of his shirt and pants. Then, as he lay back down on the bed, the nurses arrived with bandages, cleansing chemicals, and thankfully, morphine.
"So," Harry said as Janet set up an IV, "sounds like we won."
"Yes, we did. Your distraction worked perfectly from what I hear, and even allowed the Prometheus to disable one of the Goa'uld ships." The Prometheus? Oh, that must be the name of the SGC's ship. "And then, just a few minutes ago, Anubis and his fleet came out of hyperspace. I heard that Anubis even made an unconditional demand for surrender before they attacked. But SG-1 activated the weapon in Antarctica, and it seems to be cutting Anubis's fleet to shreds." Finishing her work with the IV, Janet gently slipped the needle into his arm. "Now, do you feel any sharp pain as you move, or is it evenly painful across your whole body?"
And with that, the SGC's Chief Medical Officer went into full-on Doctor mode, first probing gently for any broken bones, and then setting her nurses to clean his exposed skin as Janet carefully dug shrapnel out of his hair. Since he was alive, and fire wasn't about to start raining from the heavens again, Harry closed his eyes and let himself drift gently off into a morphine-induced slumber.
When he woke up, Harry saw that the infirmary was mostly empty, but a nurse who had been checking his vitals smiled kindly at him. "I see you're awake then, Mr. Potter. I'll let Dr. Frazier know, but you look like you're healing up pretty well to me." With that, she turned and left his bedside. Slowly, but not as painfully as he'd expected, Harry lifted his head from the bed. Then, finding he didn't have enough energy to keep it there, he let his head fall back onto the pillow.
Note to self; he thought, don't overextend yourself on a decoy mission. Normally he could deal with the consequences of any situation he found himself in, but it had been quite a while since the last time he'd fought in a conflict like this one.
"So, our resident wizard is awake!" Janet said a bit too cheerfully as she walked up to Harry's bedside and began taking note of his vitals.
"Oh, shut it," Harry said without much heat, "I said I probably wouldn't blow myself up. It wasn't even my fault this time, I barely got out of there alive!"
"If you say so," Janet said doubtfully. "Your back and backside are healing quite nicely. If this keeps up we can probably even start weaning you off of the morphine. You weren't kidding when you said that wizards are tougher than they look."
"Yes, well," Harry said, "I think my robe absorbed a lot of the damage, at least from the flying debris."
"Really?" Janet sounded surprised. "What's it made of?"
Harry smiled. "Homespun cotton, actually. It's easiest to enchant a piece of clothing if you weave it yourself. I'm probably going to have to make a new one, now…"
Janet blinked, twice, but took that in stride. "Well, Sam and Dr. Weir both wanted to speak to you. I'll go let them know that you're awake."
Sam wanted to see him? Harry idly wondered what that was about as he waited. A nurse brought him some food and he ate it awkwardly, unable to roll off of his front side and having to carefully move very carefully to avoid inflaming his wounds.
Just as he was finishing his canned pineapple and lasagna, Sam walked in. "Harry! We heard that you'd been blown up by the scouting force. What happened?"
She hadn't heard the whole story yet? "I got out in the nick of time," Harry said glibly. "Well…almost."
"We heard that your position was completely annihilated by fire from the Goa'uld motherships! There was even some damage to the underground Area 51 facility! How on Earth did you get out of that alive?"
Harry sighed. "I suppose it had to come out sooner or later. I can teleport from one place to another, as long as I can visualize the destination. I can't go to the moon or anything, but I can go anywhere on a planet that I've been before, and even into a low orbit, if there's something to land on. I uh…didn't realize I needed to get out of there until they started shooting at me, and by then it was almost too late. And since I landed behind my wards, no one found me until I woke up."
Sam hesitated before responding to that, and sounded quite concerned when she asked, "Are you…all right?"
Harry smiled. "Oh, Janet's patching me up nicely. It sounds like I'll be out of here in a few days or so."
"Really? That's…impressive."
"Yes, well, as much as I'd like to claim that 'us wizards are just made of sterner stuff,' the truth is more that it's been a while since I got into a fight like this, and I might have gotten a bit rusty. But as they say, hindsight is 20/20."
"Yeah, it really is, isn't it?" From the look on Sam's face, the woman was quite familiar with the uncomfortable clarity of hindsight. "Well, thanks for helping out with the diversion. I'm not sure the Prometheus would have held out against three Goa'uld ships on its own. It certainly would have been a lot closer without you there."
"You're certainly welcome. I wish that it hadn't gone down like it did, but I'll always help out when your lives are on the line. It'd be irresponsible not to."
Sam gave Harry a grateful look. "Well, thank you for that. Your help was greatly appreciated by the crew of the Prometheus. They were actually talking about making a memorial to you on the ship before we found out you were alive."
The thought made Harry smile. "Well, I wouldn't say no to a monument or two anyway. It's nice to see my help is appreciated." Tilting his head carefully, the wizard gave Sam a playful wink.
Before Sam could come up with a response to that, Dr. Weir entered the infirmary, and immediately made a beeline for Harry's bed. "Harry! What happened to you?"
The wizard rolled his eyes. "I didn't realize that the Goa'uld had stopped shooting at your ship so that they could lock onto me, and when I apparated out I landed behind wards that were designed specifically to keep you out. I'm lucky the infirmary was near my lab, because I wasn't in very good shape when I came to."
Dr. Weir looked positively alarmed. "You were unconscious in your lab for a whole day?"
"Yeah, I'm probably going to be toning the wards on my lab down a bit. I…probably should have done that sooner, but…" Harry sighed. "I probably shouldn't have put wards like that on my lab at all, honestly, but…I did have plenty to hide. I originally intended to slowly let Sam and the other technicians in on the knowledge I've acquired in my travels, but I wanted to control what you learned, and when, so that you didn't accidentally misuse what you learned. But now…well, now you have access to the Alteran database, and that changes the situation. Among other things, I'd really like to work closely with the team that's studying the database, and that'll be a lot easier if I'm not hiding behind aversion wards all day."
"That…could possibly be arranged," Weir said. "I would check with the President about sharing such an important task with an outsider, but he's actually requested that you meet with him yourself at your earliest convenience. I get the feeling that he wants to thank you for all that you've done for us. Something that I would also like to do, honestly. I can't thank you enough for all that you've gone through on our behalf."
Harry smiled. "Don't sweat it. I've been through worse scrapes for stupider reasons. At least this time I get a cool war story out of the experience."
Dr. Weir raised here eyebrows skeptically at that. "You nearly died, and you're already thinking about the stories you'll be able to tell later?"
"Yes." Harry giggled a little. "I mean…I survived a direct hit from a capital ship's orbital bombardment. Sure, it hurt like a bitch and I actually only survived because I ran away like a pansy, but it sounds so much better if I leave that part out."
"Alright," a pleasant female voice came from behind Harry, "you've had your talk, ladies. It's time to leave our resident wizard to healing. He may act like he's fine, but he needs his rest!"
And just like that, Janet hastily shooed Dr. Weir and Sam out of the infirmary, refusing to take no for an answer. Harry smiled. Nurses, he thought to himself. They were the same anywhere you went. He felt a gentle hand feeling around his arm where his IV was connected.
"So how are you feeling?" Janet asked conversationally.
"I'm fine," Harry said, "Did you have to scare off the company?"
Janet sighed. "Harry, with the drugs running through your system, I'm frankly impressed you're speaking intelligibly. You should really be sleeping right now, but it seems that it's harder to keep a wizard unconscious than I thought."
Harry grinned goofily at her. "What can I say, it's hard to keep me down. I consider that one of my many charms."
Janet raised her eyebrows at him as she fiddled a bit with the IV. "Get some sleep, Harry. You need your rest." As she walked away, Harry tried to come up with a response, but he suddenly felt quite sluggish, and the bed was very comfortable. Hmm, maybe he'd get a bit of shut-eye after all. Doctor's advice was usually a good thing to listen to.
A/N: Woo! New chapter! Sorry this one took so long to get out, but it's sort of a big moment in the timeline, and I had a lot of trouble making the sure the whole thing…felt right. I've said it before, but it's still true; crossing Harry Potter with Stargate is really difficult to pull off unless you want Harry to turn into a self-righteous prick, or just completely alter his power set to nerf him. (Altering Harry's abilities to better fit the plot has been done, by the way. If that sounds interesting to you, check out Per Ardua Ad Astra, by In Defilade. It's a great story, though it's sadly abandoned.) I also wanted to do the battle with Anubis its due justice, since it was a huge moment in the show where the SGC finally proved that it could hold its own…sort of, against the Goa'uld. But on top of that, this chapter also became an essential turning point in Harry's character arc that I wasn't expecting, so I had to take a bit to figure out how to do it right. Again, I'm sorry about the long wait!
In other news, I fixed the Alterran/Alteran thing, because I happen to know from experience just how irritating one consistently misspelled word can be to a reader. I also re-read and tweaked the previous chapters. There were no major changes, so you don't have to re-read them yourself or anything, but it was slightly more than just grammatical changes. Clarifications of technobabble, more streamlined plotting, that sort of thing. And apparently this website's text editor doesn't like long numbers with decimals, so I had to put commas in the astro-date that I had Harry spout off. Did that really just show up as Harry saying that the astro-date was " R" and no one thought it was weird, or is the text editor lying to me about what shows up in the actual chapters?
Guestinator, I appreciate your review, and you brought up some good points. Also, your name is great. Still, if you want a response to that many specific issues, you're going to have to get a (free) account so that I can PM you back. Among other things, this website doesn't send me the whole text of long reviews in notification emails, and the easiest way for me to read your whole review is just to click the reply link. But that's a little hard when there is no reply link, as is the case for guest reviews. Oh, and half of the issues you had are handily addressed in this chapter, I think. I didn't even plan that, I just happen to have a vague idea of where this story is going, so not everything that looks like an issue will continue to be one going forward. ;D
Best of wishes,
~feauxen