Title: Harry Potter: Four In One
Author: Joshua
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created Harry James Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Hogwarts, the whole gosh-darn HP-universe and wrote the 7 "Harry Potter" books that we all love and enjoy. Spoilers for Book 1, and Book 7. In fact there may even be some direct quotes from Book 7, so be warned. I'm not writing this for profit, I may not even let anybody but my dearest and closest friends even read this and they'll get it for free, so thankfully this won't get me sued or anything. Everything AFTER Chapter Nine in Book 7 is going to be changed anyway and even those chapters that I do quote, they won't be quoted very well or for very long as I'm changing EVERYTHING after those points. Assume, for Wizard-Harry, that everything between the stated timelines in Book 1 and Book 7 is identical to what happened in the rest of the Books and the HP-universe. Tamora Pierce is the awesome author of the "Circle of Magic" books that 'Mage-Harry' is taken from, and of course I don't own Winding Circle nor the concepts of Academic and Ambient Magic. Any future Spy-Magic you might see is going to be exactly like the Battle Magic so far, an amalgamation of numerous sources that might not even be 'magic' on their own, but have been twisted in such a way by me. You have been warned.
Summary: A mysterious stranger interferes in the timeline and in Harry's life, splitting the young wizard into four and giving each a different magical education. Wizard, Warrior, Mage, and Spy.
Story:
Late Evening
Orchard behind the Burrow
"Training Grotto"
Hermione and Ron managed to sneak away a few minutes after Harry and Ginny already had, and after hints from the copies, their friend's as well as their own, joined them in the orchard. Harry patiently walked Ron through the exercises Hermione and Ginny were already practicing, as well as detailing his reasons for wanting them to learn in the first place. He explained what he'd already told the girls, as well as his own personal reasons, and then added a few arguments to ultimately convince his stubborn friend.
Afterwards, they spent the rest of the afternoon beneath the orchard trees, meditating, talking, catching up, and planning. Harry discussed options on where they should go after the wedding, Hermione theorized about possible locations of the remaining Horcruxes, until Harry outright told her where they were, as well as who RAB was and where the real Locket Horcrux was at that very moment. Ron and Ginny argued over the latter coming, until Harry cemented that he wasn't letting anyone that he didn't trust Voldemort not to go after just to pull him from hiding, out of his sight no matter what. And unfortunately, half of Hogwarts, mostly Gryffindor, but other houses too, knew that Harry and Ginny were an item.
It took another few minutes of arguing from all three of them before Ron finally let the matter drop, but Harry had learned better of his friend by now and the confidence of a trained warrior made him more aggressive than he might once have been after arguing with Ron. He didn't allow Ron to stew over it for weeks, even months over the decision of his sister coming with them on their adventure. No, Harry made absolutely certain that Ron really did understand why Ginny was coming and that the girls likewise understood Ron's reasons for being against it. For the large part it was being an overprotective big brother and similar thoughts as to what made Harry initially break up with the girl before summer vacation. Unfortunately, there were a couple of hidden reasons that Harry had suspected and that Ron eventually confirmed.
Harry, Hermione and Ron. The Gryffindor Trio. Together as adventurers since their first year and always getting into and out of trouble together. Ron felt that Ginny's presence was an invasion and on top of it, he had a serious inferiority complex due to being the youngest son after five older brothers and now his baby sister was coming in to take this away from him too?
It was hours of conversation and arguing, lots of shouting moments, even more rehashing of things already said, but in the end Ginny and Hermione were hugging Ron until he was tomato-red and Ron was firmly cemented in Harry's opinion that if anyone wanted to hurt his baby sister they'd have to go through him first. Ginny was a little resentful until Harry reminded her that while their hearts were chauvinist pigs, they were both still practical thinkers and both agreed that Ginny needed to learn to fight just as much as they did, as even if they were the first on the line, there was always the chance that somebody could get through them and they wanted her safe, no matter what.
Which lead once more to the same situation where Ron was asking Hermione if they would be snogging all the time like that. Hermione, having been annoyed at Ron's levels of insensitivity to her absolute limit already, especially after the long discussion, slapped the back of his head rather than comment.
After all that, they all went back to meditating and practicing. Fifteen minutes later, almost at the same time, all three had something of a breakthrough. They didn't really grasp their magic cores, as Harry had been training them to, but they did break through to the level of understanding that they could fully sense the flow of magic through their bodies. Hermione described it like a constant hum in her bones and vibrating the rest of her. Ginny described it as finally being able to tell the difference from just the presence of her magic, and the way that it actually flowed. Ron on the other hand was kind of scary as he described it as...
"Like raw power, a whole river of the stuff, like it's never stopped moving for an instant, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but... it never stops moving... Bugger," he said as he ran a hand through his tussled red mane.
Harry stared in mute shock at his best mate of more than six years now. What was so scary about that wasn't a 17-year-old boy talking about power like it was a holy presence, but that description, almost verbatim, is how the flow of magic was described to him by Joshua when he was first learning, and to hear Ron use the same terms as the Time Wizard that split him in half and then put him back together was more than a little disconcerting. Besides, it was a spot-on description for those that have the most sensitivity towards their own magic. Which meant a few things of its own there, but that would bear further investigation before actually doing or saying anything about it first.
"All right then," said Harry as he finally snapped out of his stupor, "lets try that all again and see if you can increase your perception of the flow of your magic. See if you can't feel its pulse, the rhythm of it, okay?"
Five minutes later, Ron was the first to announce he'd figured out his rhythm to the flow of magic, and both of the girls were just a couple minutes behind him. Harry then had them all continue to follow the pulse of magic for as long as they could and to not expect it to stay the same. It was supposed to change, like the pulse of blood in their own veins.
After about half an hour of that, he had them continue further exercises while keeping track of the presence, the flow, and the pulse of their magic while they performed them. He kept giving them more and more exercises until he felt they finally understood what it was they were sensing, which wasn't easy to do for even the most brilliant magician of the ages, let alone three teenage novices.
Finally, just as the sun was reaching the lower half of the sky, Harry had gotten over his shock at their progress and Ron's sensitivity and decided to go ahead with his plans on training them.
"OK then," said Harry as he got to his feet, gesturing for them to do the same, "Now the way I learned what you're doing, I spent a week in solid meditation, and while I could feel my core by the end of the first day, I still wasn't allowed to move on to the next step until after that week. But we don't have that kind of time and I don't want you lot getting bored or thinking I'm holding you back, so with what you've done just today, I'm going to show you exactly how effective this training is."
"We've already seen you do wandless magic Harry," said Ron, "but you keep saying we're years from doing stuff like that!"
"Oh I won't be doing a thing this time, Ron," he assured his friend. "I just said I'd show you. You'll be doing all the work, but I promise you'll notice the difference. Now go ahead and take out your wands while I get things ready over here."
Harry quickly walked over and picked up about nine of the fallen fruit scattered around the orchard trees and then cast a couple of silent growth charms on about six of them. Three were left at normal size, three were about the size of a large Quaffle, and three were about the size of beach balls. Silently, Harry levitated them so that one of each size was hovering about ten feet in front of his friends.
"Now, we're going to be testing out how things are progressing, all right? First round, I want you to employ all of the lessons I've had you practice so far, breathing, organizing spells in your mind, and feeling the flow and pulse of your magic. And no curses or hexes or anything fancy. Just outright dueling charms; Expelliarmus, Stupefy, Expulso, Impedimenta those sort of things, all right? On the second round, only cast silent spells, not even mouthing the words. Yes Ginny, I know you haven't studied that yet but this would've been your sixth year and since you're coming with us, might as well get started now, right?" Reluctantly the red haired girl nodded her head and resolved to do as instructed.
"While you are casting, first at the big ones, then at the medium ones, I want you to keep your focus on the flow of your magic and your breathing. Once the targets aren't there anymore I'll ask you if you noticed anything. If you do notice something, don't say anything, don't do anything different, just keep casting and keep paying attention to the flow of your magic. Any questions?"
"Um, Harry?" asked Hermione with a raised hand.
He just looked at her expectantly.
"What about the small ones?"
Harry just grinned, somewhat evilly at her. "You'll be casting same as on the others, only with the small ones we're going to work more on accuracy and feeling the pulse of your magic, OK? After all, it's better to hit what you cast at the first time than the tenth, right?"
"Wait, what?" blurted Ron.
"You'll see," said Harry, mysteriously. "Begin!"
And so they did. The Disarming and Stopping spells didn't really have that much effect on floating fruit, but give a stunning spell enough power and it'll even scorch stone. So pretty soon all three were firing off a steady cycle of stunner, repulsion, and exploding spells. After the big ones were pretty thoroughly wasted, they moved on to the mid-sized ones. After that, they practiced accuracy-casting on the small ones. Once the first set was gone, Harry moved them on to Round Two.
Ginny had a bit of trouble at first and spent several minutes casting the same spell silently until she apparently felt she had it down well enough before moving on to the next spell and repeating the same progress. It was uncanny progress as the Fifth year girl who hasn't even started her Sixth year yet had just flown through more than three months of Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum in less than one hour. By the time Ginny felt she had more or less gotten down all of the available 'Dueling spells' that wasn't a specialized hex, she went back to the way of alternating every other spell in her attacks.
Within a few more minutes of solid silent casting by all three, the Second Round targets were all destroyed, leaving only the single normal sized fruits left. Silent accuracy-casting was the hardest yet and they all spent more than fifteen minutes just getting even one spell to work right on it. Finally, though, they managed to complete the course and Harry decided to move them on to Round Three.
Before they started, Harry stepped forward once more and asked them, "So, notice anything?"
"A bit, yeah," said Ron.
"I didn't at first, but as I kept casting the spells normally, I began to notice what you were talking about before, Harry," said Ginny. "The shape of the spell and how my magic flowed to create that shape. I began to notice it more and more when I moved on to the silent casting and when I did, I tried relying more on the flow of magic and letting it go into the same shape rather than the thought of the spell or anything like that, and it was easier. They've really got to start teaching it this way at Hogwarts!"
"I noticed a bit of that, but I still don't think I can do it without my wand!" said Hermione.
"That's fine," Harry assured her, "seeing as a single stunner cast without a wand would vaporize these fruits anyway. I'm not expecting anything to happen by today. In fact, I wouldn't even let you try, even if you were already ready for it. Things have to go in order some times, and going too fast can often be much worse than not going fast enough. Besides, you've improved your silent spells, to an impressive degree, and all within a single day. Snape's gonna have a fit when he learns I really am a better teacher than he ever was!" They laughed.
"So, what's planned for Round Three, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"Did all of you feel the pulse of your magic as you were casting on the smaller fruits?" he asked in turn. They all nodded back at him, Ginny and Ron adding in a few comments that made him wonder about magic sensitivity running in families for a moment.
"Next, is the level above where we've been practicing so far. You might think of what we've been doing as NEWT level spell-practice. This next exercise is Auror-training level spell-practice," said Harry as he levitated a full dozen of the ordinary sized fruits, so there would be four targets for each. "These will be rotating around you at a steady revolution. But not only is this moving targets, I'd also like you to try increasing the strength of your spells as well."
"How you do this is twofold," he explained. "One, you increase your focus on the spell and direct a bit of emotion behind the spell too. The more emotional you are, the powerful your magic becomes. Unfortunately, the more emotional people tend to get, the less accurate they are in things they're trying to do, like casting a spell at a specific target. That's part of why we practice like this. Secondly, I want you to focus on the pulse of your magic, and at the very moment that you feel your magic is pulsing out at its strongest point, that's when I want you to cast your spell. Pretty soon you'll be able to consciously control exactly how much magic and how much power you put into every one of your spells. Play around with it for a while. Experiment and feel things out for yourself. After a while, we'll discuss how you're doing and see where we need to go from there, all right?"
"But, Harry," Hermione interrupted, "it's getting rather late, don't you think?"
"We'll stop when it's supper time, which my copies tell me is not for another hour and a half," answered Harry. "Tell you what though. We'll practice for another hour, and then we'll stop and get cleaned up and get back to the Burrow, all right?" They agreed and began practicing once again, Ginny and Ron intently focused as they wanted to master this exercise before the day was through.
The Next Day
The Burrow
Training Grotto
It was criminally easy to sneak everyone away from the Burrow, after breakfast. Thanks to Harry having "demonstrated" his Copy spell the day before, nobody thought it odd to see at least a few Harry's wandering around doing chores, planting new bushes and flowers in the garden, working on the house, or even helping out in the kitchen.
Mrs. Weasley, wonderful soul that she is, had it in her head to do everything in her power to keep those she viewed as her children from following through on the "insane notion" of not going back to school, and as such she kept them as busy as possible, as far away from each other as possible, for their own good of course.
Poor Mrs. Weasley, her power, unfortunately, just wasn't strong enough to beat Harry's transfigured copies from taking Hermione, Ginny and Ron's places to do the chores while the lot of them went off to the orchard, out of sight, to train in Battle magic. And other things.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" shouted Harry as he literally ran circles around his friends.
They were currently running laps through the ten acre plot of land, Harry telling them it was for conditioning and PT, physical training, he called it. They were moving at a snails pace, well, to Harry they were, but actually the three other teenagers were keeping up at a marathon pace with surprising stamina. Then again, after six years of having to fight on the run on top of getting to and from class in a magic castle that likes to change up its passages once in a while, their stamina might not have been so surprising.
"Blimey, Harry!" gasped Ron, as they ran past the starter tree for the twelfth time, "We're not, bloody, Centaurs that can, outrace a, Unicorn! Give us, a break!"
"Tell you what," said Harry, who wasn't even the slightest bit out of breath as he jogged beside Ron, "you run ten whole laps at your top speed, and I'll let you quit for the day. You run 100 laps at your current pace, I'll let you do the same. You match me for one lap the whole way... you get to pick what I teach you next, even if you want to learn a Battle spell, I'll do my best to teach it to you by the end of today. Provided, even one of you can keep up with me the whole way."
"A hundred!" Ron shouted.
"At your current pace," corrected Harry. "Go as fast as you can for ten laps, you can quit early."
Ginny immediately pulled ahead, clearly going flat out for her petite Quidditch-Chaser frame. Hermione looked undecided for all of a few seconds before she too started increasing her pace. Not yet going flat out, instead she was trying to conserve her energy and was steadily increasing her speed bit by bit.
Harry turned a grin at Ron, who grumbled but started to go faster.
"Better, but still not all you can do," said Harry, who was annoyingly keeping exact pace with the redhead without any signs of effort.
Still grumbling, Ron went flat out for all of three steps before faltering the tiniest bit, but clearly going much faster. "Almost. Ginny's got the right idea, and Hermione's getting there. Hi, Ginny!" he called as Ron's younger sister passed them.
"I'm going to be starting my own workout and my own pace on the next pass. Offer still stands, go for ten laps, or keep pace with me for one and I'll teach the three of you anything you want to know. But if you keep going up and down like this Ron, you'll still have to do the hundred."
Growling now, Ron took a gasping breath and went all out, but this time he kept pushing himself faster and putting forth more effort constantly and he stayed at his top speed.
"Not bad Ron," said Harry as they began to gain on Hermione ahead of them. "OK, here we go! Remember, whoever can keep pace with me for one lap can quit after that lap and I'll teach all three of you whatever you want to know, for today."
Then he disappeared.
Well, not actually, it's just that as they passed the 'Start' tree, Harry accelerated so fast that to Ron, he just disappeared from his side. Ginny, who was on the other side of the 'track' saw it more as a black and dark-blue (the color of Harry's clothes) blur streak out from the tree and begin to surround the whole field. When Harry passed her, less than a heartbeat later, all she felt was a gust of powerful wind pass her and saw what looked like a hundred Harry Potters all flowing into each other.
Afterimages, she realized with a dropping sensation in the pit of her stomach. 'Nobody is that fast! Nobody' she thought to herself, even as she saw it happening right in front of her.
All three ran for as hard and as long as they could, Ginny even running for fifteen laps instead of stopping at ten as she raced desperately to try and keep pace with Harry for even one second, let alone one lap. Annoyingly, even as he passed them with blurring speed, he spoke with them and kept count for all of them, noting when they started to falter in their speed, and ultimately telling them when they had reached ten laps and could stop. Finally, they just all collapsed from exhaustion, none of them able to run another step. Harry continued at his unfathomable speed for another solid hour, his passage creating a pleasant breeze for his passed out friends, before he finally slowed to a halt, actually sweating and breathing heavily.
"Damn," he cursed as he bent over, holding his knees as he slowly got his breathing under control.
"I'll say," groaned Ron from the forest floor.
"What are you damning now, Harry?" Ginny asked with a tired giggle. He smiled down at her. They really couldn't help it. They were dating each other again, they were kissing every moment they weren't in the Burrow or busy training, teaching, or learning. Even Harry himself felt like giggling half the time, but men don't giggle. Girls often do, so that's okay.
"I've gotten faster," he finally answered her question. "Used to be, that pace, for that long would have me joining you three on the ground there. I'm gonna have to move up to the next level. Damn."
"Is this a 'Ron' kind of 'damn', or a 'bad' kind of 'damn'?" Hermione finally had to ask.
"A 'Ron' kind," chuckled Harry.
"Hey!"
"What was that anyway, Harry?" asked Ginny, finally sitting up to speak. "That kind of speed is unreal, and you just did it. Humans, even with magic, just can't move that fast!"
"Sure we can," said Harry.
"How?"
"Well, part of it is a spell, but not as much as you might think. For one thing, as I know you've learned by now, in Battle magic there's not much difference between your magic, and the energy used to move and make your body function. So whether I'm expending energy to move my muscles to make my legs move, or expending magic to do the same, the only difference is the effect. Muscles can only contract and expand so fast and so hard without crushing the bones that support them. Magic doesn't really care about physical limitations and kind of frees that up."
"So what's the spell?" Ron asked instantly.
"Unfortunately, none of you could keep up with me for one whole lap, so I'm not going to teach it to you today," he grinned evilly down at them, "but the spell is called Lightning Shoes. In short, it's a spell, or a way of shaping magic around my body, that allows me to move at super speeds. It's also the Basic form of a multi-level spell. I explained those to you, right?"
Hermione nodded before Ron could claim ignorance, then she asked, "What are the other levels called?"
"Well, the Advanced form is called Thunder Claps, and in comparison, I guess you could say that where with Lightning Shoes I looked like a streak of color, with Thunder Claps it looks like I'm Disaparating instantly, all over the place. The Proficient form is called Lightspeed Flash, and you can't see me. At all. To me, on the other hand, well, with the first two forms everything is still moving, I'm just moving faster. With Lightspeed Flash, it looks like the entire world is frozen around me and I'm the only thing moving at normal speed."
"And the Ultimate form?" asked Hermione, not without a bit of trepidation.
"Instant Movement."
Harry paused for a moment before continuing, "Kinda speaks for itself, and only time I've ever been able to keep it up for any length of time is when I'm infused with the power of my Gate, you saw that when I did the Dragon summons. Instant Movement is the be all, end all of magical super speed, allowing more or less momentary travel across unreal distances, and the entire universe itself is frozen and you're still moving at super speed, not regular speed, super speed. As with all Ultimate forms, it drains magic faster than you can blink, and it's no picnic on the body either. All other forms, your magic still has enough left over to protect your muscles and body from the friction and other forces that would otherwise be affecting you. Instant Movement... there is no extra magic, and you run the risk of pulverizing your entire body if you're not prepared for it."
"So that's why the conditioning," stated Ginny.
Harry nodded. "Along with a few dozen other reasons, and a few hundred other spells of different forms. Better conditioned your bodies are, the better you'll be able to handle what your magic can then allow you to do. All right, you've rested enough for now, let's go ahead and start some aerobics, get some agility built up. Then we'll do push-ups and other things to build up basic body strength."
Groaning, all three of them pulled themselves to their feet and allowed Harry to direct them in further exercises until they wanted to drop back to the ground in exhaustion. And it wasn't even ten thirty yet!
By the time they finally broke for lunch that day, the youngest Weasley children and the only-child of the Grangers felt like they had gone a full season in Quidditch against nothing but teams full of iron ball Bludgers. At the same time, the boys had to admit the girls had never looked better in their sweat-matted clothing, and vice versa too.
Thankfully, their various copies had likewise been worked to sweating goriness, and so a few well-timed vanishings and they were all settled in for Lunch with the rest of the family without anyone being the wiser or suspecting a thing about their appearance. After lunch, and a few more transfigured copies all around, and they were back out in the orchard, this time to continue their magical training. Ron and Hermione still hadn't perfected the third round exercises just yet, and so were continuing to feel out the flow and pulse of their magic as they cast regularly and silently.
Ginny, on the other hand, seemed to suddenly able to shoot the target out of the air, on the first spell, just by looking at it. Her spell strength and spell accuracy were as good as any NEWT-level student, but she was still only at the student level, so Harry started helping her in that regard while Ron and Hermione continued their own exercises against floating targets.
At first Harry found himself just repeating what his own teachers had taught him at Hogwarts the first two years, as they coached him to controlling the amount of power released during a spell. Harry added the tidbits about how adding power could help as well, but only after increased control. Ginny paid close attention regardless and very soon was casting at a very impressive level of both power and accuracy. Nevertheless, Harry continued to aid her by providing additional pointers, and then by giving her a more complicated training exercise.
This one had her testing accuracy and speed together. Conjuring a few harmless bubbles that could only be popped by a spell or other magic, Harry had her try popping all of them as quickly as possible, making the bubbles smaller and increasing the numbers each time she succeeded. Until they were all about the size of marbles and the air was practically filled with them. And, of course, all the casting was done with silent spell work, which increased the speed all on its own, after she'd finally gotten the hang of it.
Once she had gotten to the point where she was hitting all of the targets in under a minute, Harry took her back to meditating, this time focusing on magic control exercises, the same ones that were invaluable after his merger several weeks ago. This had to do with focusing on the path the magic took when casting a spell, from the way that it went from the core to the arm to the hand to the wand and ultimately out of the tip of the wand, to every other way one could imagine using as a means of casting spells.
A couple of hours later, Ron and Hermione had by then completed the same speed exercises, and finally joined Ginny in her magic control exercises. The rest of the day was spent on that, then a final run before heading back to the Burrow for supper and sleep. And so that was the schedule for the next few days. Until the Delacours arrived that is.
July 30, 1996
The Burrow
The Delacours arrived that morning at eleven o'clock. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were feeling quite resentful toward Fleur's family due primarily to all the preparation Mrs. Weasley had insisted upon. Part of which was that Harry wasn't allowed to make copies for the entire day, and the wily Head of the Weasley household even used Harry's own arguments, against the fewer people knowing, the better, about his abilities to elicit such a promise from him. Therefore they had been forced to skip out on training for the day and had gotten stuck doing the chores their copies usually did in their place. So it was with ill grace that Ron stumped back upstairs to put on matching socks, and Harry attempted to flatten his hair. Once they had all been deemed smart enough, they trooped out into the sunny backyard to await the visitors.
No one had ever seen the place look so amazing. The rusty cauldrons and old Willington boots that usually littered the steps by the back door were gone, replaced by two new Flutterby bushes standing either side of the door in large pots; though there was no breeze, the leaves waved lazily, giving an attractive rippling effect. The chickens had been shut away, the yard had been swept, and the garden-made-eden had been spruced up into near perfection and even the now, somehow, trained garden gnomes were afraid to touch anything to mar the heavenly beauty of the area.
Harry had lost track of how many security enchantments had been placed upon the Burrow by the Order, the Ministry, Bill and Gringotts, and Harry himself; all he knew was that it was no longer possible for anybody, even himself, to travel by magic directly into the place. Mr. Weasley had therefore gone to meet the Delacours on top of a nearby hill, where they were to arrive by Portkey.
The first sound of their approach was an unusually high-pitched laugh, which turned out to be coming from Mr. Weasley, who appeared at the gate moments later, laden with luggage and leading a beautiful blonde woman in long, leaf-green robes, who could only be Fleur's mother.
"Maman!" cried Fleur, rushing forward to embrace her. "Papa!"
Monsieur Delacour was nowhere near as attractive as his wife; he was a head shorter and extremely plump, with a little, pointed black beard. However, he looked good-natured. Bouncing toward Mrs. Weasley on high-heeled boots, he kissed her twice on each cheek, leaving her flustered. "You 'ave been to much trouble," he said in a deep voice, "Fleur tells us you 'ave been working very 'ard."
"Oh, it's been nothing, nothing!" trilled Mrs. Weasley. "No trouble at all!"
Ron relieved his feelings by aiming a kick at a mischievous gnome who was peering out from behind one of the new Flutterby bushes.
"Dear lady!" said Monsieur Delacour, still holding Mrs. Weasley's hand between his own two plump ones and beaming. "We are most honored at the approaching union of our two families! Let me present my wife, Apolline."
Madame Delacour glided forward and stooped to kiss Mrs. Weasley too.
"Enchantée," she said. "Your 'usband 'as been telling us such amusing stories!"
Mr. Weasley gave a maniacal laugh; Mrs. Weasley threw him a look, upon which he became immediately silent and assumed an expression appropriate to the sickbed of a close friend.
"And, of course, you 'ave met my leetle daughter, Gabrielle!" said Monsieur Delacour. Gabrielle was Fleur in miniature; eleven years old, with waist-length hair of pure, silvery blonde, she gave Mrs. Weasley a dazzling smile and hugged her, then threw Harry a glowing look, batting her eyelashes. Ginny cleared her throat loudly, and more than a bit threateningly too.
"Well, come in, do!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly, and she ushered the Delacours into the house, with many "No, please!"s and "After you!"s and "Not at all!"s.
The Delacours, it soon transpired, were helpful, pleasant guests. They were pleased with everything and keen to assist with the preparations for the wedding. Monsieur Delacour pronounced everything from the seating plans to the bridesmaids' shoes "Charmant!" Madame Delacour was most accomplished at household spells and had the oven properly cleaned in a trice; Gabrielle followed her elder sister around, trying to assist in any way she could and jabbering away in rapid French.
On the downside, the Burrow was not built to accommodate so many people. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now sleeping in the sitting room, having shouted down Monsieur and Madame Delacour's protests and insisted they take their bedroom. Gabrielle was sleeping with Fleur in Percy's old room, and Bill would be sharing with Charlie, his best man, once Charlie arrived from Romania. Opportunities to make plans together became virtually nonexistent, and it was in desperation that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny took to volunteering to feed the chickens just to escape the overcrowded house. For all of the five minutes it took them to do that, Harry came to a very fast decision.
"Now what?" asked Ron in annoyance as his mother came by, carrying a large basket of laundry in her arms and talking about still remaining chores and wedding preparations.
Just after she started talking about the "Millamant's Magic Marquees", Harry interrupted her. "I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, I truly am, but I have to break my promise to you that I made earlier."
Looking more than a bit stunned, she blusteringly questioned, "Wh-whatever d-do you mean, dear?"
"This whole situation is completely intolerable! We can barely even walk anywhere without bumping elbows with somebody else and as lovely as your home is and has become, it's just not practical to have this many people staying in a building of this size. So, again, I'm sorry, but I must break my promise to you. Shadow Copy Kaleidoscope!" Instantly, the same shadow pool came as every morning, but this time there were just as many copies as the time he'd fixed up the Burrow several days ago.
"Boys, transfigure, conjure, go out and buy, hell, even go out and cut down a few specially grown trees, but get the supplies we need to get this done!" the original ordered to his new army. Only a few stayed behind as all the others raced off, after invoking the Lightning Shoes spell, most of them conjuring a clipboards with parchment and paper on them with quills.
"Note to self," the original spoke to one of the copies, who immediately started writing a note, "Build more rooms. Enchant each to be no less than twice the outside parameters on the inside. Redo all the plumbing. Add in a pool, indoor and outdoor if we can manage it. Oh, and triple the size of the kitchen and make the dining room the size of the Hogwarts Great Hall. Inside."
"Uh, Boss," one of the suddenly nervous-looking copies spoke up.
"Yeah?" said Harry.
"All of that, plus just general expansions? This is either going to take more manpower, or at least a coupla weeks. A hundred, even with unlimited supplies just is not going to cut it."
"Good point," nodded Harry. "Note to self; Two Hundred Copies, no less."
"HARRY!" Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and Ron all shouted.
"And take the Delacours out to dinner instead of making Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour do all the cooking. How do those calculations add up?" he asked the copy that had pointed out the flaw.
Slowly, the copy was nodding his head. "Yeah, yeah, just about... yeah! It should work. But just barely. Five hundred wouldn't be outside of the realm of reason. Especially with the dining room expansions."
Harry winced a bit. "Five hundred might actually be cutting it a bit close. But not impossible by any stretch of the imagination. Five hundred it is then, I'll just limit myself to Wizard-defensive spells for the rest of the time. That way there's definitely enough energy to go about with the magical enhancements."
"Harry, what... what is the meaning of this?" asked Mrs. Weasley weakly.
"There's just not enough room in the Burrow for everyone Mrs. Weasley, so I'm doing everyone a favor, while paying you back for some of the kindness you've given me in my life. Since I'm going to be adding a few rooms anyway, just for everyone's comfort, I figured I might as well go the extra mile and turn the Burrow from a, while homey and lovable, little shack, and give you the palace that you always deserved. The pool is for the kids. Y'know, the grandkids that we'll be having and bringing by to play with their grandparents and stuff."
If Mrs. Weasley wasn't on the verge of tears of joy before, she most certainly was now. Then the other copies started showing back up, bringing with them the supplies needed to actually do this little housing project.
"Unfortunately, I basically have to strip the Burrow to it's bare bones and build almost from the foundations up. Hence why we'll be going out to dinner, my treat," said Harry as more and more supplies began to arrive.
"Oh, but dear, you can't leave the property! The Death Eaters... and You-Know-Who..."
"Had better run screaming if they see me while we're out tonight," said Harry darkly.
Unconsciously, everyone who heard him say that shivered as though a cold breeze had just swept through the area. It was quickly forgotten though as Harry's cheery demeanor was back as though nothing at all had happened. In short order, the change of plans was announced to everyone and while they were all concerned about Harry, he quietly insisted that they go out and enjoy themselves. Such enjoyment was rare and precious during these days of war. If any of them, usually a member of the Weasley clan that hadn't yet heard him, made mention of Death Eaters of Voldemort, Harry simply repeated his answer of before, in the exact same tone. It was the most effective method to quiet such arguments.
Just before they left, another copy quickly handed the original a wallet that had been filled with British Pounds, as well as a couple of hastily put-through credit cards, all from Gringotts, which accepted Harry, whoever it might really be, so long as the person had his face and his key.
Given that they were in a time of war, and the only wizarding places he only really knew of were Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, Harry had made plans of taking them not to the most expensive wizarding place in England, but to the most expensive period;L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon. (This is a real restaurant, located in London, England at 13-15 West Street, WC2H 9NE. It made the top ten, but it had the best reviews of them as having the most diverse menu available too, hence why I chose it out of the ten.)
Again, Aparating was impossible, and it was not, supposed to be, in Harry's power to create Portkeys, but since it was barely even three o'clock in the afternoon, a bit too early for dinner, he'd made other arrangements. As they all walked, in their best clothes, robes or dresses for the women while Harry personally transfigured suits for all the men, down to the village and left the confines of the protections of the Burrow, Harry turned back at the last second and quickly filled the rest of the five hundred copy quota.
Theoretically, it is possible to fit that many bodies within the confines of the Burrow's property, but it's quite another to actually see it physically happen. As such, when they all swarmed the defenseless Burrow, it was like watching a colony of ants descend upon the carcass of a dead beetle.
"Gotta remember to do this again sometime," Harry said to himself with amusement, as he was the only one to see the spectacle, then he turned and raced to catch up with everyone else.
Once they arrived at the village, they were all surprised to see a rather large stretch limo waiting for them there. Harry greeted the driver with impunity and quickly ushered them all inside. Amazingly enough, there truly was room for them all in the long-bodied muggle vehicle. It wasn't magicked or anything, in fact the driver and the service he worked for had never even heard of wizards or magic before, but with the amount of money Harry was practically throwing at their feet, they'd believe the moon was made out of cheese and the Earth was flat if he told them so.
Mr. Weasley and the Delacours were all fascinated by the available technology in the back of the limo, from the windows, to the wet bar, to the TV and DVD/VCR player, which Harry and Hermione had a fun time explaining to them all. They finally arrived in the city and at the restaurant right at seven pm, about the time Mrs. Weasley would've been starting dinner anyway.
Harry lead them in, announcing they were the "Potter party" and they were celebrating the wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. Harry spent over 8500 pounds just getting them in the door and then into a private room, set aside exclusively for their party. He then spent another fifteen minutes slowly convincing all of the adults that yes, he could afford this, yes, they can all order what they like, and no, he would in fact be greatly offended if they ever tried to pay him back for this as the entire thing was his wedding present to Bill and Fleur, and to attempt to pay any of it back would be like giving a gift back without even opening it.
As it was, Harry knew for a fact that the whole evening, from limo service, to the restaurant, to the supplies being bought to upgrade the Burrow, none of it would make so much as a dent to the gold in his vault. There might be a single less pile among the heaping piles and piles of galleons, but honestly who could even tell? Besides the goblins that is.
Several hours later, everyone had had a glorious evening and Bill and Fleur were thanking him quite often and the French ladies all kept kissing him on his cheeks, almost constantly. They were finally leaving the restaurant for the long ride home and waiting for the limo driver to return to pick them up, as he wasn't allowed to just sit out front until they were done and had to return to the garage if they were going to be longer than an hour, which they had been. Harry had called a few minutes before they actually left, so the driver would have enough time to actually get there without them waiting for very long.
As it was, the did have to wait around five minutes standing before the beautiful restaurant, but that was fine as after such a fulfilling and delicious meal, they were all quite content and feeling peaceful. Unfortunately, it was during this five minute wait that fate decided to roll the dice. Unfortunate for the Death Eater that had been strolling by that is.
"Potter!" the minion screamed, pulling out his wand, not caring that they were in the middle of muggle London on a busy and crowded street and he was outnumbered thirteen to one and that one of those wizards was Harry Potter himself. All he saw was his comrades dying from a week ago during Harry's... culling of the Death Eaters and battle with Voldemort. And things hadn't been so good for Death Eaters since then, and he honestly wasn't thinking straight. Plus he might have been just a wee bit drunk.
As it was, his shout did draw Harry's attention, and before anyone else even reacted to the man's shout, he glared hard at the obvious Death Eater.
The Dark Wizard raised his wand and began to shout the Death curse that would end the life of the Boy Who Lived forever, but the words died on his lips, lips that puked up blood suddenly. Harry Potter, warrior for light, champion of good, had transformed himself from an ordinary man standing there, glaring in impotent fury, into a monster straight out of the realm of nightmares.
The man didn't even have time to scream as slashes ripped into his arms, legs, stomach, chest, shoulders, neck and face. With each new slash and scratch, they actually went deep enough that crimson, almost black, blood literally exploded from the wounds and into the air in large arcs of arterial spray. It didn't end there, but oh how the once powerful dark creature wished it had.
The once man, now standing piece of meat, still could not even scream as the slashes themselves were torn open and apart, drawing forth even more blood spray. Then the beatings started. At first it was soft blows, hard punches, kicks, and slaps. Then they began to break bones on impact and a lot of time was spent on it's chest and stomach, causing untold amounts of internal damage and breaking each rib at least once, some far many more times. Long before that point however, the blows reached the point where the bag of meat was puking up blood every time that a new one landed. It was almost amazing that there had been so much blood and still was any inside the meat bag at all.
The agony did not quit, it would not stop, not ever, as the monster of nightmares, the Green-Eyed Beast stared with cold, unfeeling, unremorseful hatred down into the very depths of the meat bag's soul and it wished only to breath so that it could break down whimpering, crying out in fear and pain. Everything was pain now, even, especially breathing, but then the horrible, horrible Green-Eyed Beast did something that made all other pain seem like pleasure in comparison.
With almost casual disregard for how impossible it should have been, like a toddler breaking a toy just to see it shatter, the Beast reached into the meat bag's chest and ripped its guts out. Starting with the intestines, it's skin was torn asunder and everything that didn't spill out on its own was rapidly and brutally shredded and any blood still in the body came flying out in a constant fountain, if not as blood itself, then as the minced and liquefied remains of the organs that were also tossed out.
Finally, the still beating heart was pulled out and held before the bruised, bloody, and broken head, which was just the eyeballs and the skull by now, the jaw having been unhinged and taken out much earlier during the beatings. The rest of the meat's body, not that there was much meat left that hadn't been curie'd, was spread in an ugly Blood Eagle pattern that was straight out of the Dark Ages. Until finally, at last, the Beast allowed it final peace, as it's heart was crushed within the iron grasp of the Beast in an explosion of blood and red meat...
Harry glared with killing intent at the Death Eater that had noticed him and smirked unconsciously as he stopped before he could pull his wand out, dangerously pale, before his eyes widened in overwhelming fear and he screamed out in sheer terror, running the opposite way, away from Harry Potter, as fast as his terrified little Death Eater legs could move him. Which was pretty damn fast.
Unfortunately not fast enough to outrace traffic, which is what he ran into. Thankfully the accident the death of the dark wizard caused was several blocks away and Harry's limo was already well past it when it finally happened.
Later That Night
The (Transformed) Burrow
"I still just can't believe it," said Mrs. Weasley, as she tucked Harry into his queen-sized bed in his very own room in the new mansion-like Burrow, no longer having to share with Ron as Ron himself now had his very own room once again. Still decorated in nothing but Quidditch fan paraphernalia, but it had been a few years since Ron was even allowed to have his own room, and the summers Harry had visited, even that hadn't been all his, all the time. "All this, in just a few hours! And it even still looks mostly the same on the outside!"
"Things have changed Mrs. Weasley," said Harry. "I'd like to think for the better in all cases, but unfortunately things are still changing for everybody. I know what you've been trying to do, Mrs. Weasley, keeping Ron, Hermione, and the rest of us all busy, hoping that we just won't have time to think, let alone plan out how to go on from here."
"Now, it's very late dear, and we have a busy day tomorrow, so you need your rest..." the redheaded older woman was suddenly highly agitated and made to leave the room, but Harry made a gesture and the door closed in her face.
"Mrs. Weasley, I think it's long past that you and I had a heart-to-heart, all right?"
For half a moment, the Weasley Matriarch had the look of a trapped animal on her face, combined with the expression Harry'd seen her wear the time she'd been trying to banish a Bogart at the Order's Headquarters at 12 Grimmauld Place. The anguish of losing the ones she loved the most.
The moment passed, and she resumed the mask of her cheery mother-hen persona and answered him, "Why, my dear, I'm afraid I don't know a thing of what you're talking about. Now it is getting rather late, and you've had a busy day, what with all you've done. You need your rest, and tomorrow is your birthday, we can't forget! I know, I'll go and invite all your friends from school, Hagrid would enjoy attending, I'm sure, and dear Remus and Tonks and..."
"Mrs. Weasley," he interrupted, getting up from the bed and walked over to her. "Mrs. Weasley... Molly. Things have changed. Dumbledore's death changed a lot more than just his absence. I've had to grow up. Sooner than most expected, sooner than even I'd planned, but I have. I won't lie to you, but there are just some things that I can't tell you, and as hard as it is for me to ask, I need you to trust me. To trust in me. I can end this war. I will end this war. But to do it, I need you to stop trying to protect me from it."
"But why you?" she suddenly screamed, tears already leaking out of her eyes. "You're just a boy, you don't have to do all this! There are adults who..."
"Who have been doing nothing for more than two decades, longer than I've been alive. Voldemort, while powerful and with his own army admittedly, is just one man that should've been running from the government the moment that he opposed them or their laws. Instead, he's been getting away with murder since he was younger than I am now! And much more than that as well! All because the adults who claimed to be in charge and to be responsible did nothing!"
"It's not like that! Things are dangerous right now, and you could be hurt or... or..." she broke off into a sob, and soon was blubbering in his arms, trying to squeeze him to death slowly through one of her patented hugs. But Harry was made of sterner stuff these days and he gave as good as he got. For the longest time they just stood there, embracing one another, her crying and him holding.
"You've been like a mother to me since the first moment I met you," he admitted softly to her, increasing the volume of her cries for a time. "But I've grown now. You can't baby me like I'm some helpless eleven year old on his first trip to the train anymore. Dumbledore understood that sometimes, whether you're ready for them or not, there are just some things that have to be done. Now you have to understand. There are some things that I have to do. And Ron and Hermione are coming with me, like it or not. We'll come back to you. I promise."
"I know that, dear. It's just, I... I d-d-don't want any of you to, to, to..."
"We won't," he promised. "I'll make sure of that. You weren't there, so you couldn't see, but I really did stand up to Voldemort, matching him blow for blow, spell for spell. So when I say that I will not allow myself or any of my friends to die, you can rest knowing that I have the power to back up my promises."
Finally, although not an official binding magical contract by any means, Harry got the older woman to understand the reasons for why they'd be leaving after the wedding. She was still crying about it, and she would miss them terribly until the war was finally over, but at least she would no longer be sabotaging the trio's time together and would allow them to make plans and spend time together without having to sneak around or use transfigured copies to fool everyone else.
It was almost midnight when Harry finally went to bed and everyone else was already long asleep and the transformed house was dark and silent. The Copies really did a good job on the insulation.
Ten minutes to midnight, Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat rigid upright in his king-sized bed. His head turned stiffly to the window, the moon light flowing in like streams of a silver-coated spotlight. Moving quickly, but silently, he hastily dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and his wand, staff, and a trinket that he wore on a leather string about his neck, then he left the Burrow and walked towards the hill that stood between the Weasley home and the rest of civilization. It was still within the wards, but it was who he met there that was most shocking.
Joshua, dressed the same as all the other times he met him like this, was standing there with a grim expression, arms crossed and waiting. At least half of him had spent the better part of half a decade with the man, so he could recognize his moods by this point.
Still, it was the young man standing next to Joshua that held the most surprises for young Harry Potter this evening. He was tall, but not overly so. Skinny and a bit small around the shoulders. Not at all stocky, more like a runner's or a Seeker's build. He had wild, untamed, jet black hair, and brilliant emerald green eyes that were covered by thin-rimmed round spectacles. A strong jaw, but not protruding. White skin that saw as much in doors as out, and decent muscles on his otherwise thin frame. He was wearing work boots, loose cotton pants and a cool-looking earth-tone blouse underneath a simple traveling cloak. His forehead was unblemished. Let's say that again, his forehead did not have a scar.
But for all intents and purposes, the young man, without a scar, was Harry James Potter.
He felt like raging against the universe. He felt like interrogating Joshua until he talked. He felt like slugging the new, yet too-familiar face. He felt that same pull that told him this person was a part of him, and he was a part of the young man.
He didn't say anything. The other Harry Potter didn't say anything.
They stared at each other for a full minute after they'd all reached the top of the hill. While they stood there staring, Harry observed the other and tried to figure out what was going on before he tried to do or say anything that might make him look foolish. Joshua had trained him to be observant and to use his observations to his advantage rather than simply react, so that's what he did.
This Harry Potter did not have a scar.
This was Harry Potter.
This Harry Potter was a part of the current Harry Potter.
This Harry Potter was the same age as the current Harry Potter.
All of this leads to only a single, logical conclusion. Joshua had split Harry Potter in two, long before his eleventh birthday. Joshua had split Harry Potter in two before, or at least by his first birthday! And then he'd left one behind to have his parents killed by Voldemort and to survive the Killing curse while harboring a shred of the murderer's soul and magic within him for seventeen years and to be raised by the Dursleys for eleven and to then be split in twain once again. This other Harry Potter, more than likely, had experienced the same splitting upon his eleventh birthday and had obviously been reunited with that part of him just a few weeks prior to this. And now Joshua was finishing the bargain that had been struck, and he was putting all the parts back together again.
Finally, Harry decided that words did need to be said.
"So."
"So," his counterpart returned in the exact same tone. Both of them looked over at Joshua.
The Time Wizard rolled his eyes and sighed at the heavens. "OK, you have questions, that's more than obvious. One of you with quite a few more than the other, but let me start by saying that nothing wrong was done here, all right?"
"Well, we seem to have a bit of time," the Harry of England spoke. "How is it that you splitting me in half before you even met me is 'nothing wrong here'? If you please?"
"I'm a Time Wizard, Harry," said Joshua. "Think about that for half a minute. My first, my first trip was to visit 11-year-old Harry Potter in Surrey, a week or two after his birthday, after he knew he was a wizard and that his parents had been killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort. I spoke with him, and I gave him a choice. He accepted my offer and we continued to talk, and just before I left, I split him in two and took one of them with me. And you'll remember, I took you to sort of a null-place for about two minutes, saying I needed to take care of something real quick, remember that?"
Harry frowned, but the half of him that had experienced that did remember it. It was actually hard to forget anything of those first few days after being split and taken from Little Whining and the Dursleys. He nodded in answer to Joshua's question.
"Well, what actually happened was that I left that Harry there and came back to him about two weeks later, from my point of view. I wasn't even gone a full minute from your point of view. After I split you in two and you agreed to my offer and made your choice, that is when I went back in time and split baby-Harry in two as well, taking one to another world where he would receive a very different magical education than either of you two ever did, and leaving the other behind to become you."
"I was raised an orphan," the scar-less Harry Potter finally spoke up. "The world this man left me in was far different than this one. Less advanced for one thing. More advanced in others. For starters, your term for those without magic, what is it? Muddy, munnels, oh that's it! Muggles. Muggles did not exist as separate in my world, instead they relied heavily upon those that could do magic, who were not called witches and wizards, but instead we're called Mages."
Checking to see they still had time, he continued, "I was left with one of the Temples in a country known as Emelan. The Temple was known as Winding Circle and was just one of many such places in that world where magic was not only accepted, but taught to those that showed as having the Gift."
"I was shown at an early age to have the talent for what we called Academic Magic, through incidents of what Joshua tells me you might call accidental magic? As such, I was taken in by one of the temples and trained and taught in the ways of magic even as I grew up. It wasn't until I was turning eleven that things began to change."
He took a shuddering breath, and Joshua had to step in and whispered, "It's all right, you can tell him. He's part of you, so he'll know what you do soon enough. Better to show that you trust yourself before you no longer have the choice to demonstrate it." Harry nodded up at the Time Wizard and continued.
"I began to have horrible, horrible nightmares. Night-terrors that would trigger bursts of magic that I could not control no matter what. Shortly after my eleventh birthday, Joshua showed up at Winding Circle, dressed as a traveling mage on errantry. He befriended me and asked me about my nightmares. Nightmares that he tells me you've been having for even longer than I?"
Warrior/Wizard Harry winced, but nodded his understanding. Voldemort and Dementor inspired nightmares would definitely become night-terrors to the unsuspecting.
"He spoke to me of my parents, who I barely remembered, of how he knew what had happened to them. That they were dead, and had been killed by an evil mage that had fragmented his own soul, simply to keep himself from dying!" Nobody could mistake the pure disgust this Harry felt at what Voldemort had done to himself. "And he offered me a choice. He could give me the power and the opportunity to track down my parents' killer and to avenge them. And also greater power that I might use to better help people. As you can see, I accepted his offer, as you did."
Harry nodded in understanding towards Harry, then both looked over at Joshua, who shrugged with a sheepish expression on his face. "This has always been about your choice Harry. After you accepted my offer, the first time in Little Whining, that created an alternate timeline, basically the universe split on that decision. One where you said no, I cast a memory charm and you never so much as guessed that anything happened and you remained whole and were split neither when you were a baby, nor when you turned eleven. And then this timeline, where you said yes. And here we are. If you chose to, you both could even say to hell with this and not fuse, saying you're both happier as individuals if you want. Again, it's your choice."
"So that's why..." both Harry's said at once.
"That's why the emphasis, when I trained the halves that I split when you were eleven, on how important free will is and that there is nothing more important than being allowed to make your own choice. True, I did kind of manipulate you all into trusting me and how I didn't outline my overall plan to you, not that it's much of a plan, but first and foremost I made it your choice to accept my offer, with the understanding of the consequences of your decisions." Both Harry's nodded in understanding at that.
"And to clear up any confusion about what it is that you all know, this guy here," he pointed at the Harry that had spent the past week with the Weasleys and a few weeks with the Dursleys before that, "Is the Harry that was left behind and was raised in England and trained at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, combined with the Harry that I took and trained to be a warrior and is a Master-Rank Battle Mage."
"And this Harry," he pointed at the un-scarred Potter, "is the Harry that I split from baby Harry who was never struck by Voldemort's curse, nor saw his parents murdered before his eyes, and was left behind on the doorstep of Winding Circle to be raised as a mage of that world. When he turned eleven, one stayed behind to achieve the full ranks of both Academic and Ambient mages, and the other I took to another pocket dimension, where I trained him in what you might like to think of as Magical Espionage. In laymen terms, where you are Wizard and Warrior, he is Mage and Spy. And we're about outta time," he finished by glancing up at the stars.
Both Harry's looked up at the same moment and recognized the unusual alignment of constellations in the heavens at the moment. Symmetrically aligned into a crest of four side by side; Ursa Minor, Aquila, Leo, and Draco. At the stroke of midnight, they became perfectly aligned, and Joshua gave the pair a nod.
"This is it," W/W Harry said to the other.
"I'm looking forward to it," M/S Harry returned with a grin.
Nodding back at the Time Wizard, they simply smiled at each other, and then stepped forward and gave the other a hug. It had been a long time, but they were finally, all back together again.
The explosion of light and sound made the first fusion seem like a firecracker next to a Type 1A Supernova, and for a few precious moments, midnight in England became high noon.