AN: Here's Chapter 4. Enjoy!
PS: Happy Father's Day!
From: Technomancy: A History of, and its Practical Applications, by James Blight
Excerpt from Chapter 1, "Mechanics and Discovery"
"Despite its mass usage during the Dark Wars, Technomancy was not, unlike several popular perceptions believe, created in the late 20th century. Technomancy, several official memos reveal, has been around since well before the Treaty of Unification. It was first discovered by one of our Empire's greatest scientists, Jacob von Eisenheim, father of legendary Fredrick von Eisenheim, the inventor of the Magical Energy Generator, which will be expounded on later.
According to official memos, as well as various excerpts from Professor von Eisenheim's journals, the discovery of Technomancy was entirely accidental. It had come about primarily out of a need to find a way to harness the power of magic to be used as an energy source. During the testing procedures, however, Professor von Eisenheim and his helper, a witch by the name of Jillian McKnight, accidentally managed to empower an object with the essence of the spell put on it. This first piece of Technomancy, however, fell apart almost instantaneously, but its discovery caused the government to switch von Eisenheim's project from energy creation to weapons production. The tests to find a shell capable of handling the magical energy being poured into it lasted years, with modern (for that time) bullets being found too incompatible. Eventually, in a fit of sheer frustration, Professor von Eisenheim abandoned the use of modern bullets and tried to find the answer in the past. It was to be a major breakthrough.
Professor von Eisenheim found his answer in the musket ball. Though initially skeptical of using such an outdated projectile, he nonetheless had Ms. McKnight cast the empowerment spell (now fully recorded) on such a specimen. Though it eventually collapsed, the lead ball nonetheless managed to hold in the energy far longer than any other specimen, to the delight of the professor and his crew. After much tinkering with the design and testing, von Eisenheim and his crew managed to create a stable, magically-empowered projectile, as well as a rough firearm for its use, based on the model of the Brown Bess Muggle musket. Subsequent production of these was leased out to the Roberts family, a wealthy and prominent Loyalist family in the Falklands.
To this day, discovery of the concept of Technomancy is officially attributed to June 4th, 1905.
Minutes later, in the headmaster's office, Snape was seething.
"THAT BRAT!" he screamed, "How DARE he! Insulting the Headmaster, and US, as well!"
Unfortunately, it seemed no one, save the headmaster (who was being silent for now), agreed with him.
"Please, Snape," huffed Sprout, "The only person he insulted was you."
"Indeed," agreed Flitwick, "Though he did do so with the most astounding tact; Imagine that, trying to seem impartial by referring to all of us."
"He was a complete gentleman, too," added Sinistra who, despite being Potter's elder by seven years, being the youngest on staff, had nonetheless blushed at the younger man's appearance and countenance.
"Oh, spare us your childish infatuations, Aurora" sneered Snape, "The Potter brat obviously is the same as his father, pigheaded and insubordinate."
"He is not!" protested McGonagall in crisp tones, feeling her duty to defend her former student. Besides, she had a good feeling about the boy. For all his indifference, he seemed to have a kind spark in his eyes that was underneath the frosty exterior.
"A feeling of yours, I presume?" challenged Snape with a sneer, "Of course you would defend such Gryffindor-like manners"
McGonagall was about to draw her wand when Dumbledore silenced them all with a raised hand.
"Enough" he commanded quietly, making them all freeze in their tracks. That was his command voice, which indicated he had orders.
Dumbledore sighed wearily as he pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed it softly in frustration. "Mr. Potter is an enigma. For one part, he was exceptionally indifferent to us, but for another, he seemed hesitant to refuse my offer of quarters in Gryffindor Tower."
"Perhaps he wanted to see where his parents had stayed," offered Sprout, which Dumbledore shot down with a shake of his head,
"No. He can see it any day he wishes. This was something else. There is something in Gryffindor Tower that Mr. Potter desperately wants to see, but is not allowing himself to do so," the headmaster reasoned. "Can you think of anything in the Tower that would allure so much to Mr. Potter, Minerva?" he asked his colleague.
The aging witch looked pensive for a moment but then shook her head. "Nothing in particular that would catch my attention, Albus."
Dumbledore sighed. Something in Gryffindor Tower held the answer to controlling the Potter boy. Now, he just had to find it and use it adequately.
After all, the boy was too important to be left alone. The greater good demanded it.
And he wondered why the Potters didn't trust him.
As the Potter-Dumbledore rivalry began to develop, the students in the school were gossiping wildly and speculating, thus proving the existence and width of the infamous Hogwarts Rumor Mill. Theories and guesses had been thrown left and right on the character of Harry James Potter, Lieutenant-Colonel of Her Majesty's Army.
Some said he had killed five death eaters with his bare hands
Others said he was a poser, nothing more than an impostor.
But one thing was certain, 'What is Harry Potter like?' certainly was on everyone's minds.
In Gryffindor Tower, four students were exchanging such guesses in front of the common room fire, seated comfortably in the bright red sofas.
"It's too bad we didn't get a good look at him" whined Ron Weasley, Gryffindor's current Quidditch Keeper and Team Captain, "The spot I was at was full of other students, so I barely caught a glimpse. What about you guys?
"I saw him pretty well," offered Neville Longbottom, one of Gryffindor's shiest members, but still well known as a good duelist in DADA classes. He was also Ron Weasley's sister's, Ginny Weasley, boyfriend.
"He looked quite dashing in his uniform" agreed Ginny, "We saw him when we were coming back from the Greenhouses, right Neville?"
Neville nodded, "It was weird at first, but I have to admit the uniform is quite nice" he agreed.
Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley's girlfriend and Gryffindor's number one student, merely sniffed. "I still do not see the need to dress up in those infernal red coats," she stated primly, "They carry out a horrible connotation of imperialism and oppression!"
Ginny merely looked at Hermione wryly, "Isn't that what they are, though, Hermione?" she asked, "Soldiers of the Empire? That's what he said, anyway."
Hermione sniffed, "Don't be ridiculous; the Empire hasn't existed since the creation of the Commonwealth" she stated, "None of the former colonies would want to rescind their freedom to serve a monarch who ruled overseas"
Ron looked at her with a weird expression, "Former colonies?" he asked
Hermione nodded, "Canada, Australia, India, and so forth, to name the major ones" she informed her boyfriend.
Ron merely looked over to Ginny and Neville, "When did they break away?" he asked. Ginny shrugged, and Neville looked confused.
Hermione's eyes narrowed, "Well, Canada didn't break away per se, but it is an independent government…"
Ron shook his head, "No it's not, Herm. I remember hearing dad talk about it last summer. Canada's just received their new Magical Royal Governor," he informed her with a gleeful expression, happy to have finally known something his girlfriend did not.
Hermione looked outraged. "You mean to tell me the British Empire has not disintegrated in the magical world?" she demanded. Neville looked at her weirdly.
"Of course not," he stated bluntly, "It's the longest living Empire so far. Only the Spanish Empire disintegrated, and only the Americans broke away, same war as the Muggles did."
"In fact," added Ginny, putting in her two cents, "The Queen's officers are all trained in Canada, at the Imperial Magic Institute. That's probably where he's been educated all this time."
"And how he has such a high rank for his age," observed Neville, making Ginny nod in agreement.
"How come none of this is in my books?! Surely, someone must have written about this!" demanded Hermione.
Ron shrugged, "It's known to all pureblood families, that I know of. Most forget about it, though, or try not to say anything about it, like the Malfoys" he spat the name, "who believe it unfit of the magical community to kneel before a Muggle monarch. Dumbledore probably doesn't know of it, come to think of it," he added. At Hermione's outraged look, he quickly explained, "Well, he's not pureblooded, is he? Also, he wouldn't have met the Imperial Army during the Grindelwald Wars, since the Imperial Army was busy keeping the peace in the colonies," he added
"Just understand, Herm, that not everyone knows of the Empire's existence, much less the Muggle-borns, since it would empower" Ginny spat the word, "them. Ridiculous nonsense if you ask me."
Hermione seemed troubled by the revelation of the Empire's continued existence but reluctantly accepted it. "So what would Harry Potter act like, seeing as he serves the Crown? Stiff and polite?" she asked, curiously. Ginny shrugged.
"I've never met a graduate of the IMI. Have you, Neville?" she asked her boyfriend, who shook his head.
"Gran's met some, but I never got to. Was before my time," he explained.
"You, Ron?" asked Hermione. Ron shook his head as well.
"Sorry, Herm. Can't say I have. Elite of the elite, they are, the graduates of the IMI."
"Regardless," interrupted Ginny, "We'll be able to see him better tonight. Apparently, he'll be attending the school dinner."
Huffing at the lack of information, Hermione merely gathered up her belongings and left for her dorm, set on putting everything away before she went down to dinner.
Back in the common room, Ron sighed.
"Mental, she is."
Neville gave a small grin, "But you wouldn't have her any other way"
Ron grinned, "Right you are, mate."
Ginny merely rolled her eyes.
Harry was fidgeting as he observed himself in the mirror of his field tent. Unlike wizard tents, these were not magically expanded and full of Wizarding comforts. Harry had ordered his tent to be exactly the same as that of his soldiers. If they lived in Muggle tents, then so would he.
But the problem now wasn't a lack of comforts. Rather, he was nervous about the dinner, though he would never admit it out loud. It had been four full years since he'd last been in the castle, and apart from some select few memories, he had no good recollection of the castle at all.
Of course, it was one of those few good memories which gave him the strength and motivation to finish priming himself. After all, he was an officer of Her Majesty's Army, as well as a gentleman. He thus had to look like one.
Through the use of a combination of Muggle hair products, Harry had finally managed to slick back his hair into the short low ponytail that had become symbolic of British officers. Tying it with the midnight blue hairbow was slightly difficult, but he had become used to it.
After he had finished with his hair, which took a considerable time, considering its defiance in staying down, Harry buttoned up his beige vest, a shade darker than his white shirt underneath. After he was done, he elegantly put on his dress red coat, full with golden lacings and other symbols of his rank. He then slid on his officer's sash and clipped his saber to his belt.
Looking himself in the mirror once more, he nodded with reluctant acceptance at his appearance. Behind him, someone clapped. Harry did not need to turn around to know it was Blackthorne.
"You look dashing, sir Harry," noted Blackthorne with a mocking tone.
"Mind your tone, Blackthorne," warned Harry.
"Touchy, aren't we?" replied Blackthorne, "It's not like you haven't done this before, sir."
"Those were official receptions!" he protested, "There were others dressed like me! Here, I stand out like a sore thumb!"
Blackthorne chuckled, "True enough, I suppose. But, sir, you have to understand that if you do not go tonight, it would count against your honor, since you've already committed to it."
Harry grudgingly accepted the argument. "Fine. Are the guards ready?" he asked. Blackthorne nodded.
"Four Coldstreamers and two Shielders. The best in both groups," assured the dark haired man. Harry nodded as he put on his officer's hat.
"Very well, let us be off then," he commanded as he strode out of his tent, where his guards were waiting for him.
Behind him, Joachim smiled, eager to see how dinner would play out. "As you wish, sir Harry."
The Great Hall was full when Harry arrived with his guard. Indeed, they had seemed ready to begin the feast when two of Harry's Coldstreamers pushed open the doors forcefully, making them bang against the stone walls.
Harry wasn't really surprised by the looks he was getting. He had to admit, he would have been fairly intimidated if eight people, four of which were armed with long halberds and a musket strapped to their back, had suddenly burst in during dinner time.
However, not letting the stares get the better of him, He confidently strode towards the Head Table. He was, however, cut off, when a young blonde teen cut across his way. Judging by the boy's haughty look and two lumps behind him, Harry guessed this was Lucius Malfoy's son, Draco.
"Evening, Potter, I'm—" he started, but was cut off by four pointy halberds which had somehow found themselves pointing at his face in a flash. Behind the four glaring Coldstreamers, Harry heard the two shielders take two of the slung muskets and prime them. He also heard the distinct click of Blackthorne priming his own pistol.
"You will show respect to your superiors," intoned Blackthorne from his position right behind Harry. Harry could see Blackthorne's arm as he pointed the pistol at Malfoy. "This is Lieutenant-Colonel Potter, of Her Majesty's Imperial Forces. You will address him by his rank, death eater spawn," he spat.
"Mr. Potter, I must object to this!" came Dumbledore's protest as he and his staff made their way towards the scene, the students around them gaping in horror and shock at what was happening.
"Stay out of this, headmaster," warned Blackthorne as his aim changed to the headmaster, shocking the student body even more, "And mind you don't forget your own manners."
Dumbledore seemed troubled by the outright threat, but realized he really could not challenge Potter's authority, not while the three regiments were firmly under his command and possessing of siege equipment. He rather liked his school in one piece.
"My apologies, Mr. Blackthorne," he apologized, "Colonel, I really must protest. The boy has done no harm," Behind him, Snape was slowly reaching for his wand, which one of the Shielders noticed, for a musket barrel was now aimed at the professor's chest.
"I dare you, laddie" challenged the Shielder. Snape's hand shot away from the wand.
"Mr. Malfoy here has failed to show proper decorum in face of an officer of Her Majesty's Army, Dumbledore," informed Blackthorne, "That is enough to risk the wrath of the Colonel's guard. To make things worse, his father is one the scum we've vowed to eradicate"
Dumbledore seemed to be getting more agitated as the rest of the student body went abuzz with hushed discussion. "Would an apology suffice to rectify the problem, Mr. Blackthorne?" he asked.
Blackthorne looked at Harry, who merely nodded absently. Blackthorne then nodded at the headmaster.
"Excellent. Mr. Malfoy, please apologize for your mistake to the Colonel" ordered Dumbledore.
"What?! I will not—" started Malfoy, outraged, but was cut off by Dumbledore's angry, "NOW!"
Malfoy and the rest of the students were immediately cowed by Dumbledore's outburst. They had never seen the man angry before.
"My apologies, Colonel" mumbled the teen. Apparently, it was enough, for the Coldstreamers nodded and leaned the halberds back against their shoulder. The Shielders, however, did not place the muskets back, but did push the cock back into its safety setting. Blackthorne followed suit as he tucked his pistol in his belt.
Harry merely nodded, not really paying attention to the situation. He was too busy remembering the other time he'd been in Hogwarts, but more particularly, about the one person he really wanted to see right now.
He snapped out of his reverie, however, when Blackthorne nudged him in the ribs subtly. He nodded crisply at Malfoy before making his way towards the Head Table, Dumbledore and his shocked staff behind them.
Once everyone was seated, with Harry occupying the seat of honor next to Dumbledore and with the guard standing behind him, Dumbledore stood up to introduce him.
"My dear students!" he announced, "As you have all seen and probably know, Hogwarts will be playing host to a great number of guests this year," he informed, "Our guests are none other than soldiers of Her Majesty, the Queen's, Imperial Army."
There were several gasps of shock from both pureblooded (outraged shocks for the most part) and Muggle borns (dumbfounded shock). However, soon enough, many of the half-bloods and Muggle-borns were shouting "Long live the Queen!"
All the while, Harry was smiling at the reception he was getting from the Muggle borns, half-bloods, and some purebloods.
Dumbledore waved the shouts down with a smile, but was slightly troubled by the warm reception Harry was being given. He had not realized the extent of the students' patriotism. This could somehow disturb his plans to oust the army.
"Yes, yes, I'm sure we're all glad to play host to such fine men and women," he said genially, pushing down his concerns, "However, I must ask you not to venture into their camps. I have been informed that said camps are at the gates of the school and near the wall, on the other side of the lake. During Hogsmeade weekends, students will be escorted through the camp."
Dumbledore now came to what he believed would be the most important part of his speech. "I also have the pleasure to present these fine men and women's commander. I give you, Lieutenant-Colonel Harry James Potter!"
Harry gracefully rose from his seat and gave a light bow to the student body, who was silent at first, to Dumbledore's and Snape's glee. Said glee, however, quickly vanished as the Gryffindors suddenly exploded in applause and cheers, followed by the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Only the Slytherins seemed to reluctantly clap.
Harry merely smiled and held a hand up in thanks as the student body cheered for him. Dumbledore and Snape, however, momentarily held an expression that would seem as if someone had killed their favorite puppy. Dumbledore's expression quickly went back to being genial, but Harry had caught it and so had Blackthorne. Both smirked at each other.
Dumbledore finally turned to Harry when the cheers were dying down. "Perhaps a few words, Colonel?" he asked politely, hoping Potter did not intend to speak.
Unfortunately, Harry did intend to give a speech. "Indeed, thank you, headmaster," he thanked the older man as he stood up.
"Citizens of the Crown!" he began with his arms wide, "Thank you for your warm welcome. I will be sure to inform Her Majesty of Hogwarts' most gracious and loyal welcome!" he declared, to the cheers of much of the student body, "It is an honor for myself, at my age, to have been chosen for the important duty of being Officer in Charge of the Scottish Lands! I will strive my best to keep yourselves, and the rest of Scotland, as free and safe as possible!"
Harry continued through the cheers, "I will not lie, my fellow citizens. My men are soldiers; men and women who had dedicated their lives to the upholding of Crown and Empire. These are men who are trained to kill. But I tell you now! My enemy is not you, but rather the scum who call themselves Death Eaters!" he announced, causing everyone not in Slytherin (although some seemed covertly pleased about the announcement) to cheer loudly. "I swear, as I stand on this podium, that I will eradicate this threat from Scotland! I will hunt down every last one of them, until there are none left! Rule Britannia!" he roared
By now, the cheers were deafening, with cries of "God save the Queen!" and "Rule Britannia!" being shouted left and right. Dumbledore managed to keep a cheerful look this time, even though he was deeply disturbed by the students' support of Potter. He had expected them to rally around Malfoy's cause and see Potter as a tyrant and oppressor. It had seemed as if he'd overestimated Malfoy's popularity, by a very large scale.
As Harry sat down, he looked at the headmaster genially. "I shall inform Her Majesty of the warm reception Hogwarts has granted us, headmaster," he told the old man, "I daresay she will be most pleased."
Dumbledore merely nodded humbly, "Obliged, Colonel."
Harry smiled. "Good, then how about we dig in, eh? I'm famished!"
It wasn't until at least an hour later when Harry left the castle with his guard. It took him another hour to dismiss his guard, walk into the tent, receive reports from all the units he commanded, and signed any supply form he needed to sign. It wasn't until nearly midnight when Blackthorne arrived at his tent opening. By this time, Harry was writing a letter to his parents. He looked up as he heard Blackthorne approach and sighed as he put away his quill. He then calmly entwined his hands on his lap as he looked at his comrade.
"What is it, Blackthorne?" he asked, somewhat wearily. Blackthorne merely smiled.
"I've brought a visitor, Colonel" he told the young officer.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I thought we weren't allowing any students into the camps, Blackthorne," he reminded the older man, who merely grinned as he stood beside the open flap and pulled it wider, allowing entry to a petite cloaked figure.
"I think you'll like this one's company, Colonel," remarked the older man as he slowly left the tent. "I'll be leaving you alone now, Colonel. Pleasant night, sir."
With that, Blackthorne left the tent.
Inside, Harry was eyeing the cloaked figure curiously, before his eyes widened slightly.
"You?" he breathed, nearly ecstatic with joy, "How did you manage to get all the way out here?" he asked, though still gleeful.
"You should know that no wards or barriers can keep me from seeing my husband," came the feminine reply from within the hood as the figure pulled back her hood, revealing a smiling face.
Harry had to restrain himself from jumping her right there and then. Instead, he gracefully got out of his chair and hugged her tightly before planting a deep kiss on her lips. He savored her taste for a few minutes before reluctantly pulling away with a concerned look on his face.
"Have you been alright? No one suspects you, do they?" he asked worriedly. If anything could be said to hold higher priority than his current duties, it was the safety of his wife.
His wife merely laughed lightly, music to his ears. "Of course not, Harry!" she chided him playfully, "I've been taking care of myself and our agents quite well. One of them in particular sends his hellos, by the way" she added, raising an eyebrow at him.
Harry immediately got the message. "Right, tell him I said 'hi' back, would you?" He sighed as he stroked her cheek gently. "I missed you," he whispered.
She looked at him with a gentle expression, "I missed you too," she whispered back as they leaned into another kiss; this one far more gentle than the previous ones. She suddenly pulled back and slapped him across the face, frowning at him. "I haven't forgotten about our interview, though," she told him, though the smile on her face told him she had forgiven him. She then leaned in for another kiss. Harry happily obliged, the sting of his cheek melting away as he allowed himself to fully let go and enjoy the kiss.
Slowly, the kiss began to get bit by bit more intense, until finally, both of their hands started wandering. Soon, they decided to move their activities to a more suitable location—Harry's bed.
From: Technomancy: A History of, and its Practical Applications, by James Blight
Excerpt from Chapter 47, "Problems in Innovation"
"…Technomancy has, unfortunately, found many a roadblock in its life that has prevented much innovation. One of its underlying problems is the need for a stable container. When Professor von Eisenheim created the first ME bullet in 1905, he managed to solve this problem, albeit in a very primitive way. However, even to this day, lead is used as the principal containment method for ME projectiles and weaponry.
Another problem arose out of Technomancy's basic mechanics. Despite popular belief, energy stored within the projectile or object is not static, but instead keeps moving. This was one of the observations first made by Professor von Eisenheim when he reported every failure he had with any other type of bullet other than the musket ball. Apparently, the pointed, sharp design of modern bullets caused the moving magical energy to accumulate on one side, but not on the other, which thereby caused much instability and the projectile's eventual explosion. In the musket ball, however, von Eisenheim found his answer: a circular bullet allowed the magical energy to keep moving in constant, equal circular trajectories, allowing it to be stable. This success was, however, pointless, until von Eisenheim's team managed to discover the X-5 Solution, which the projectile was kept protected from, since it caused lead to dissolve, thus allowing the magical energy to be released.
Thus, any innovation in the field of Technomancy had to deal with these problems, which is why the A-1 Griffin Rifle was not invented until 1986, or the percussion cap A-2 Griffin Rifle created until 2003, when the bullets were finally upgraded to its present design…"