Harry and the Magic Factory

A/N: Back for one more good Roald Dahl-style prank, then onto some gruesome-style seriousness. Voldemort and his horcruxes coming up! Also, if you're trying to imagine Harry as one of the movie-version Willy Wonka's, think Gene Wilder not Johnny Depp. Enjoy!

Chapter 7

X-c-X-c-X-c-X

The Chosen emerged in front of a rather small, ramshackle building. The massive Potter Manor was off in the distance, so why in the world were they looking at this unimpressive building.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Magic Factory." Harry was smiling broadly now. He was almost back to his whimsical self.

"What about your Masteries, Potter, what are you working on?" The words came, almost verbatim, from several people. Lily Potter, in all her ghostly splendor, was smiling.

"Well," Harry started, "I'm currently working on my Technology mastery in addition to three fields within the Human Sciences, chemistry, physics, and engineering…"

Blaise Zabini was very unimpressed by this. "You're a wizard of some sort, although I haven't seen your wand, so why aren't you working in a magical field…"

Now Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were also smiling.

"Let me tell you something of my early life, then we can get back to your questions about Masteries, alright?"

The Chosen stood in a loose circle around him and waited.

"The night Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at me, it obviously didn't work correctly. He lost his body, but did not die. But I was the one left with a bizarre number of aftereffects. I had the memories inside my head, even from a young age, of other people. I started talking very early on, but in complete sentences, not just baby pitter patter. I've had conscious control of my magic from the age of four and a half. I've found dozens of bizarre and very rare talents and gifts emerging inside me, many more than were ever found in the Potter bloodline. Whatever happened because of that Killing Curse, it did a lot of strange things to me…"

Blaise and Bracus were the most skeptical of the Chosen. But the others were having a tough time buying this story, too. Harry didn't stop talking, though.

"…it wasn't until after I turned six that me, Sirius, Remus, and a few others started trying to figure out what had happened, why had it gone wrong. We never did figure out if Voldemort miscast it, but we did discover some of the functions of the misnamed Killing Curse…"

This broke the Chosen. "Misnamed?" "It takes lives, doesn't it…" "Arrogant prat thinks he knows everything…"

"…it actually does several things prior to ending someone's life. It creates a complete copy of a person's memories, it seizes a person's magical gifts, and then steals the entirety of a person's magic. That act of ripping out a person's magic is enough to kill a wizard. The portion about copying magical memories kills Muggles, we think. During a successful casting, all of that power and information is returned to the caster's wand. Originally, this curse was Babylonian, we think, but the counter-curse to access the stored magic and memories has been lost to time. It was a Lord's curse meant to destroy his misbehaving vassals and harvest their magic and gifts, nasty stuff. But the 'Killing Curse' malfunctioned that night and I received all of that magic, all those gifts, and all those memories. I can say without a doubt that Voldemort personally used Avada Kedavra on 143 witches and wizards in his lifetime, plus three vampires, seven werewolves, fourteen goblins, and assorted other creatures; and I have perfect recall over each one of their lives. One of those vampires had been around since the middle 800s. Rather disturbing, actually, having all that knowledge, particularly as I've had to block out my own moment of conception from my parents' memories…"

Luna Lovegood was the only one to laugh at Harry's disturbing little joke. But she honestly thought it was funny.

"…all that knowledge has been swirling around inside me for a long time. It also gave me early and nearly complete control over my magic. I've never actually been able to use my wand, of course, I blame that on the vampires…"

"Are you a vampire? Or a werewolf?" Harry didn't place the soft voice that asked the terrified question.

Harry shook his head. "No, I do not transform on full moons nor do I drink blood. I simply have an intuitive understanding of a vampire's wandless magic…"

This time Bracus was up to his old tricks. "That's shite, Potter. Pull out your wand and let's see if anything you've told us is true…"

This had Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus all in a very happy mood.

"Fine, let's just prove what I am, then. Bracus, you stand over there. Everyone else stand back five meters or so." After everyone moved into place, Harry turned to face his younger opponent. "All right. I will defend and you will attack. Say five minutes or until you can incapacitate me. All curses are allowed, but do remember if you fling them, I might just bounce them back at you."

With that, Bracus Snape started with a spectacle. "Crucio." The orange arc of light looked like it would hit Harry in the middle of his chest. But then it suddenly arced downward and it discharged, harmlessly, into the ground.

Bracus tried again and again with deadly curses: cutting curses, dismemberment curses, pain curses, burning curses, freezing curses, permanent insanity curses, disembowelment curses, blasting curses. Really, Bracus Snape had an impressive knowledge of borderline and Dark Arts curses. But not a single one hit Harry Potter. In fact, when Bracus had nearly given up and cast a tickling charm, the Chosen saw the charm approach Harry, curve around his body, and then whip back toward Bracus Snape. In his excessive laughter, Bracus dropped his own wand.

James Potter was clapping, although the sound wasn't audible. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the nonverbal, wandless work for which my son received his mastery in defense. His discoveries are now standard fare in our training. Redirection, it's called. You can use it very well in one-on-one situations. It is less applicable in large group battle, of course, because then you wouldn't want redirected curses slamming into an ally. But it's dead useful stuff. Redirect to the ground. Redirect back to the caster. Redirect and intensify, good for smashing into solid objects or even people during the middle of a duel. Redirect physical attacks, like flying objects or muggle weapons such as firearms…"

The ghost was obviously proud of his son. The Chosen were somewhat humbled to see such a violent display from Snape answered without a word or a wand. A couple of them realized that they wouldn't be able to lay a single spell on this Harry Potter.

Remus was also smiling at the scene. "No one had defeated Harry here in a duel since he came up with these defensive spells. Sure, he trains them to other people, but he's also developed new offensive magics that work around deflection. He got his Duelling and Offensive Magic mastery for sharing a couple of them, but I know he's holding back…"

"So, you're an adult then," Colin Creevey asked. He'd only seen the newspaper room – and been seen, in return, in less than stellar circumstances – but already he was acting like a newspaperman.

"Yes, I earned my first Mastery early in life…"

"First mastery? The ghost and that man mentioned you had two. But how many do you really have, Potter?" This was from Blaise Zabini.

"Nineteen."

The Chosen couldn't say anything for a few seconds. Then a lot of "preposterous" and "nonsense" echoed in the outside air.

Lily Potter smiled as she floated around. "The first was for Spell Creation for unraveling major parts of the Avada Kedavra curse. Ancient and Magical Tongues, for the development of a methodology to teach Parseltongue to non-gifted speakers. Magical Botany, growth spells to help save dying varieties of magical trees. Charms, for research into sacrificial charms and how they function. Transfiguration, development of new information on Animagi, plus those Animagery Toffees to aid in animagus training. Potions, for work leading to the development of the Gift Potion. Politics and Law, establishment of the Potter Council. Banking and Economics, for the establishment of the Potter Trust…"

Lily laid out the other Masteries. A few of the Chosen seemed to want to believe.

"He had two masteries in warding? And another two in arcane magics…" The questions started slowly and none of them were directed toward Harry. He just rolled his eyes. He looked small for his age, it was true, but he had thousands of years of memories inside his head. He also knew more about magic than any of the Chosen would ever be able to fathom.

"Well, sorry to break this party up, but we're actually here to tour the Magic Factory…"

"What is this dingy little building," Bracus Snape asked.

"This is where my parents hid from Voldemort, under supposedly perfect secrecy spells, the night he killed them. He had a traitor help him, of course, to locate the cottage at Godric's Hollow. But we call this the Magic Factory now. It's the center for planning all that we do…"

Harry had the group come inside in a single file line. The first room they entered was filled with loose-leaf books. Harry picked one up. "This is the Room of Requirement. Whenever a citizen here decides that something needs to be researched or created, they come and log it in one of these books. Then others can claim the projects or not. This book is about improvement to healing." Harry opened it and started to summarize. "Someone wants a better healing potion, something that reduces pain while it heals burns or bruises. Someone else has requested an improved Skele-Gro. Another person wants to improve the regrowth of limbs process…"

"You can't regrow limbs," Lisa Turpin said.

Harry shook his head. "No, you can't regrow limbs. We do it fairly well over here, but it could definitely be improved…."

Other of the Chosen pulled different volumes off the shelves. There were books for Law, Banking, Necromancy, Languages, Schooling, Governance, the Potter Estate, and hundreds of other topics. "Every citizen can contribute – or claim a topic as a research project. Some of them get shot down by the Council as impractical and the others wait their turn for someone to take an interest in them… I'd look carefully, as you may be scouring these books for ideas should you decide to accept an apprenticeship here. You'd only have a couple of years to find and complete a project for your Mastery."

Harry walked over to a small table against the wall and picked up the book called "Bizarreness and Oddities." It was generally agreed that the only things that could go in here were impossibilities. Many of which Harry had some arcane way of knowing about. He opened the book to look at new entries. "…someone wants to learn four dialects of Egyptian to improve their cursebreaking, I have about that many, I think…someone needs information on how vampires were treated during the 12th, 13th, and 14th centuries, check…someone needs guidance on constructing a time turner, I know all about them, but that I'm not about to share, way too dangerous, denied…"

Harry gave everyone quite some time to examine the books. Fred and George were clutching the thick Pranks volume with reverence. Blaise was smiling disdainfully as he paged through the volume on Governance. Many of the others were completely enthralled by the kinds of research requested and required by other citizens of the Potter Estate.

When it looked like people were getting ready to move on, aside from Fred and George, Harry started pushing them upstairs. "Downstairs was the short-range stuff, the stuff the Magic Factory might dream up in the next year or three. Up here, this is the long range stuff, the plans we have for the next hundred years…"

More than one of the Chosen was rolling his eyes. Who actually planned one hundred years in the future?

The answer, of course, was someone who had thousands of years worth of memories in his head.

"…by the way, everything in here is protected by substantial memory protections. You can't speak of the things you see or hear, nor can anyone carry any of these materials out…save for some specially enchanted note paper. So keep your fingers to yourself. We've had a number of students get very tempted by something they saw up here…"

That warning and prohibition only served to give a couple of people ideas.

"Welcome to the Planning Room, everyone. Here's where we put it together, where we make all the decisions about what land to buy, and where, and what businesses to buy or start. We're not in business just for ourselves, of course, no. We have an agenda of sorts. Within seventy-five years, we will safely and completely reveal the existence of magic back to the Muggles…"

The shouting was immediate. After all, most of the people in the room were pureblood witches and wizards. And it didn't stop for a long time. But Bracus Snape, Blaise Zabini, and a few others had the chance to purloin different items of interest. Snape got his hands on a small copy of something called "The One Hundred Year Plan." Blaise picked up a number of assorted documents that detailed the Potter Estate holdings throughout the world.

"That's exactly the reason I wanted to tell you all about our plans before we really started talking about our apprenticeship program. If you can't support our magic-muggle integration, then you won't enjoy your time here. You will have to survive in the nonmagical world as part of your training, I assure you. You will have to interact with our nonmagical liaisons throughout the world. Be very sure about the opportunity before you decide to accept or reject it…"

Harry led them through the other rooms of the Magic Factory. It really didn't look like the nerve center of a multi-billion galleon family enterprise, but it was. Nothing was lavish or expensive inside it, but still everything screamed pure economic power. Colin, the group's sole muggleborn, understood some of the names he saw on charts on the walls. British Petroleum, Citigroup, Goldman Sachs, Hawthorne Organic Foods, Federal Express, General Electric, Microsoft, Amgen, Pfizer, Sony. This Harry Potter owned significant percentages of them—or owned them outright, it seemed.

"That was the Counting Room. We keep accurate tallies of how much wealth we control in there. And this is our Alliance Room. We have complete records of every one of our allies, wizard, squib, muggle; vampire, werewolf, goblin, every kind…. And this last room is the Information Room. We don't have much going on in here yet, but this will be where all of our public responses are planned. There will be some now that the Chosen have visited. There will be more once we start revealing bits of pieces of magic to the Muggles. Old texts about magic will be discovered by scholars; rare magical animals will be carefully presented to appropriate folks; impossible-to-heal wounds will be tended to by our healers. It will all be carefully monitored and controlled from in here…"

Many of the pureblood Chosen were either completely upset or rather impressed. It sounded like Potter was planning to take over the world slowly, but without a Dark Lord's penchant for killing. And without a pureblooded ideology. But how would he make it work? What was the glue?

"…and then when we start approaching governments and the like, giving them forewarning. That will have to be handled here, too."

Harry began leading them back downstairs. He ignored most of the questions. "Why work with muggles at all?" "What is this Hundred Year Plan?" "How will you accomplish any of this?" "What is it you actually believe in?"

Harry was humming a bit to himself. He wondered which of the would-be thieves would cross the wards first. He also wondered if any of the others would be dumb enough to follow along outside.

Blaise felt the brush of the magical wards on his skin. They weren't unobtrusive like when he'd walked inside the building. No, this time they felt a bit angry. So he shouldn't have been surprised when he set foot outside the 'Magic Factory' and promptly found his entire body encased in something light, airy, and entirely immovable. He could still see and breathe, but he felt like he'd just been encased in a rather large block of cheese. His hands were frozen in position near his body. His legs were encased to the point where he couldn't move them at all.

Blaise felt one other person exit the building behind him. Then it felt like everyone stopped completed. He heard papers and books dropping to the floor. Blaise groaned to himself. The wards had caught him for whatever he'd attempted to steal just now. Shit. Shit. Sloppy and stupid spying job, that. Blaise knew he deserved whatever punishment he was about to receive.

Harry was amused. There had been at least five would-be thieves from the motions inside the Magic Factory. He'd have an Oompah be sure to restore everything to its proper place later.

"See what I said about the wards? Lovely things, very possessive. I created this set personally. Usually it's only schoolchildren on a dare who even try this, because this solid foam isn't terribly comfortable. It can't be removed until it sets completely, takes hours actually. And it gets very itchy. Our friend here is going to have a massive, nasty full body rash for at least a week after he gets out. Oh well. I hope everyone else has left behind whatever mementos they were planning to steal? Very well." Harry turned to the solid orange block of Blaise and slapped a small portkey on it. "He'll have his memory bound, of course, and be sent back to where he came from. So now, everyone else out."

Harry watched and waited. But no one else triggered the wards. Interesting.

Harry pointed everyone in the direction of their next visit and then watched as small groups seemed to form up to discuss things. But one small group of two identical individuals didn't move. They waited until it was just them and Harry. Even Lily, Remus, Sirius, and James had gone ahead.

"So, you wanted a word, gentlemen?"

Twin number one nodded while the other one started to talk. "We both want more than anything to work in your Potions and Pranks. But our academic skills…" These jokesters were deadly serious now.

"…are nowhere near the level of these others. Our Potions grades in school were actually abysmal…"

"…even though we do know our stuff…"

Harry smiled and stopped them. Then he started walking slowly toward the next building. "I do not take the grades from a school as poor as Hogwarts seriously. That man Snape seems to be a positive menace, actually…"

"Have you been out…"

"…and seen our world?"

Harry nodded. "Many times, but never as I look today. I've been an animagus for a long time and I'm pretty good with concealment spells of various kinds. So, I've met this Severus Snape. I've met all of your teachers. McGonagall could probably manage a Transfiguration mastery here and Flitwick would be a lock for Charms and perhaps, with some training, Duelling. Sprout has done some good things in Magical Botany, but I wouldn't bet money on her ability to earn a mastery here. And the rest wouldn't stand a chance, save Dumbledore himself." Harry just smiled to himself here. "Plus, you've both taken other tests you might not have recognized as tests…and you've done remarkably well on them."

Fred and George just stared at each other in confusion.

"Do either of you remember receiving small pamphlets on pranking when you were younger? From the bottoms of the bags you brought back from Zonko's? We put items like that all throughout the world, sometimes bookmarks inside a thick transfiguration book. Or we'd publish an article on necromancy that was right save for one assumption buried inside it. Tests of all sorts. I've actually been wanting to have this apprenticeship program start for years, so we've been testing for years for every subject. But we've only just now finished up another important project that precluded us from revealing ourselves to the wizarding public in this way…"

Fred and George were lost, save for the comment that they'd already passed tests of various kinds…

"Tell us more, oh master…"

"…who gives us tests in the bottom of pranking bags."

Harry's smile grew large and prominent. "I figured you two would be successful. You're also the only two who've even bothered to ask why you were selected to come here…of course, you didn't say it in so many words, but that's really what you wanted to find out." Fred nodded a bit. George was smirking at his brother. "There were many tests for potions and pranks. But the one you might remember had the partial ingredients for a potion to turn someone's skin bright, vibrant pink. You tried it a number of times before you realized there had been a 'misprint' in the instructions. Then you stole some powdered mole feet from your mother and, viola, you had a color changing potion. But, this was your genius in the prank, you administered only small doses to your older brother. And it was only after a week's worth of pranking that someone other than you noticed. And, because you'd spent so long administering the potion to him, it took a week for the effect to wear off. Truly wonderful work…"

Fred and George were smiling now. They remembered that little booklet fondly. And they'd discovered numerous 'misprints' inside it. But, as it seemed, these misprints were actually the tests. They both felt better now. That was the kind of test they could both handle.

Harry was glad that these two were the first. Harry had mentally placed good money on these two doing very well with their tests and their apprenticeships. These two, if properly paired up, would both become Masters.

Harry's eyes flicked toward the small stone pavilion ahead of him. The other remaining Chosen were already fanned out around it, trying to understand it. It had to signs or explanations. Every schoolchild and citizen knew what this place was.

"This is the War Memorial," Harry said in a crisp, clear voice. "This honors those who fought and fell in the War with Tom Riddle."

Bracus Snape was very interested now. He'd not gotten his hands on the Gift Potion or anything from that 'Magic Factory' but the stuff in here could be the most valuable of all. Perhaps the explanation of what had happened that night was in there, not whatever lies Harry Potter had attempted to tell.

Of course, Bracus Snape didn't learn his lessons well or easily. So his next lesson would be quite violent and painful. But he didn't know that yet.

"Inside this pavilion are several artifacts from Tom Riddle. Many of them were originally owned by the Founders of Hogwarts. Tom Riddle was particularly obsessed with them, like a locket owned by Salazar Slytherin or a cup owned by Helga Hufflepuff. But others were just simple items: a diary he owned in school, for example…"

Luna Lovegood was the only Chosen actually looking closely at everything she saw. She appeared distracted most of the time, but she had a nice head on her shoulders. Neville rubbed her back when she noticed something odd on the floor of the pavilion.

"Why exactly is there a rat in a cage on the floor of the pavilion?"

"Oh, him. He is an animagus who betrayed me and my parents years ago in the service of this Tom Riddle person. He's currently in a healing coma, and has been for years, because of the effects of that night my parents died. But he'd not that interesting when you compare him to the other contents."

Harry pointed a finger toward a large glass vessel. Inside was swirling a very angry looking gray-black mist.

"That, ladies and gentlemen, is the disembodied soul of one Tom Riddle…"