Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!
Posted February 13, 2014.
SUMMARY: Harry and his friends are called to testify at a government inquiry into the incident at Boardwalk Hall the previous fall; Harry celebrates his fifteenth birthday and receives an awesome present from his friends; Harry receives his Appirition license; and an incident aboard the Ragnar once again thrusts Harry into the spotlight.
15. EVOLUTION OF THE TRUTH
June 28 – August 31, 2005
June 28, 2005
The day had began at the University of Erwin, where Justin officially received his science Doctorate. He could have attended commencement ceremonies in January, but the Anthrax attack on New Year's Day had put the brakes on that—as it had interrupted a great many events across the Commonwealth. It was only natural that Harry, Mazhe, and Tommy were present, as was Justin's immediate family.
After an official reception at the University, there was a more private party held aboard the Ragnar. There, Justin more properly introduced his family to Harry and his friends. There had been a brief introduction before the ceremony, but very little time for any conversation. Though Harry was certainly well-looked after, he was somewhat envious of Justin, given he had real parents who had been there every step of the way.
"What are your plans once you finish school, Mr. Potter?" Mr. Fraser asked.
"Uh, really haven't given it a lot of thought, sir... though it's likely I'll probably take up teaching full-time at the College."
"The College of Winterhold," Mrs. Fraser guessed, to which Harry gave a nod.
"Yeah, exactly. As much as I love the Commonwealth—they've given me great support since I was rescued from my miserable family—this world is not for me. I... you know what I'm destined to do? Once that's done, there will be no reason for me to stay here."
"A shame you feel that way, Mr. Potter," said Mr. Fraser, "From what Justin tells us, you would make a fine teacher here. I suspect Sir Malcolm Davis Institute would likely do just about anything to get you on board as a teacher."
"No doubt they could. But I grew up in Skyrim. It's my home, and really... I should have stayed there, rather than trying out Hogwarts."
"Even if it meant you not meeting Ron and Hermione?" Mazhe asked. He had been close to the group, sipping a goblet of Colovian Brandy—a number of beverages from Tamriel were stocked in the liquor cabinet in the conference room.
"Yeah. Even so," Harry answered. "I mean, really. My attending Hogwarts... sort of trapped all of them there too, with that stupid law the Ministry passed. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were livid when they were informed about it."
"As would we, had that sort of thing been forced on us," Mr. Fraser agreed.
"And you're choosing to ignore the law and not return in September," his wife followed up by saying.
"As I'd intended to do last year. Unfortunately, the tournament decided otherwise. I'm half of mind to swear a magically-binding oath to never set foot in Hogwarts ever again."
"That sort of magic is impossible, Harry," said Justin, shaking his head, "And even if it was, you'd be cutting yourself off from the few friends you have made there."
"Point taken. As it stands, a mail ward's been set up now on my person that will return any mail sent out from Hogwarts, with the exception of a few people. It's really a shame it's reached that point, but... really. I'm not Albus bloody Dumbledore's plaything."
"Language, Harry."
Justin's scolding was answered with a rude gesture.
July 4, 2005
Queen's High Court, Trevelyan
To Tommy, the room resembled any courtroom in the non-magical world, with a high bench, behind which sat several individuals in suits. A single female judge was in charge of the proceeding, sitting in a slightly higher-elevated box, while two people sat in boxes below that, with computer screens in front of them.
"Mr. Riordan. Thank you for appearing before this enquiry. You understand that you are now under oath," said one of the individuals on the raised bench.
"I do."
"You are presently a part of the group working with Harry Potter."
"Yes sir."
"We'll put the Ragnar as his current address," said a woman to the man's right.
"So noted," said the judge.
"Mr. Riordan, you are aware of the purpose of this enquiry?"
"Yes sir."
"We understand the events we are asking you to recall are tragic and painful, but we must understand truly what took place on the night of October 31 of 2004."
"I dunno what you expect me to tell you. When stuff started happening, all I was concerned about was my brother."
"You are aware of how a pensieve works?" questioned the woman.
"I do. Harry... Mr. Potter uses one enough, ma'am."
"Given you are not magical, we will have to assist you, but you can most certainly provide your memory of the events."
"Yeah. That would be easier," Tommy agreed.
"The memory will be displayed for the entire panel, you must understand. We may stop the memory and ask you questions relevant to what is being shown."
Tommy was clearly uncomfortable with this idea, but reluctantly nodded. A crimson-robed Auror crossed the room, bringing with him a clay bowl filled with shimmering liquid.
"You've seen us draw memories before, right?" Harry whispered, "Just think of what you want to share, he'll do the rest. Just from when you first noticed something was wrong."
Tommy gave another nod, then focused on the events he wanted to share—events he was still having trouble coming to grips with, if he were honest with himself.
"Ready?" The Auror asked. Tommy nodded yet again, and the Auror touched his wand to Tommy's temple, and gently tugged. It had to be one of the strangest sensations the guy had ever felt, as a long strand resembling fine hair was pulled away from his head. The Auror dropped it into the swirling liquid.
"Do you swear that the memory we are about to view is whole, and accurate?"
"I do."
The Auror tapped the clay bowl three times, then flicked his wand at a white section of the side wall. He duplicated that motion on the opposite side, then tapped the bowl again.
It was strange, seeing the event from another person's eyes. Tommy hadn't realized anything was wrong until the blast of purple energy took down two people inside the cage. It ran for only a few seconds when one of the interrogators indicated the memory be stopped. The Auror tapped the bowl once, and the image froze.
"Mr. Riordan, what did you initially think was going on?" asked a woman on the far left.
"At first? Thought it was firecrackers. Then people were dying."
"Continue." The Auror tapped the pensieve again, and it resumed, and ran to its conclusion—his loss of consciousness in the corridor.
"Before your contest in the octagon, did you notice anything unusual or out of place?" came the question from the far right side of the bench.
"No. Everything was good, what I remember. No one strange standing around, that kind of thing. But it was crazy, you all gotta understand, right? A place like that, gets hard to spot sh... uh, stuff like that."
"A fair answer. From your perspective, do you believe the actions on the part of Mr. Potter and his party were appropriate?"
Tommy scowled. "What kind of dumb question was that? I would've been dead without Harry and his friends. 'nuff said."
"Decorum, please, Mr. Riordan," the judge scolded.
In the end, his testimony was over and done with within fifteen minutes. Given he was a non-combatant in the incident, and merely an observer, most of the questions were not necessary, covered by the short pensieve memory. It was duplicated, and the original very carefully put back where it belonged.
"Mr. Riordan, thank you very much for appearing before this enquiry today. The Commonwealth reiterates its sorrow and condolences for your tragic loss in October. Those responsible for that loss will be held accountable, one way or another."
"Thanks. It means a lot, but... action speaks louder than words, am I right?"
"That is a fair statement," said the judge, "You are excused."
The pair left the courtroom and returned to the College by floo powder, with Tommy seemingly in a haze. Harry understood. The guy had just been forced to revisit perhaps some of his worst memories, and be asked questions about it.
"Back already?" Justin asked, "Thought you guys were gonna be gone—oh. All right, man?"
"No," Tommy answered quietly.
"Just a 'sec." Harry pulled the lid of his trunk open, and pulled out his broom, which had been miniaturized. A tap of the wand restored it to full size.
"C'mon, we're going flying."
"You've got Ancient Runes in an hour."
"School's out for the day, Justin. I've got a friend to see to," Harry answered. Tommy arched an eyebrow. "Seriously. C'mon, we'll take a flight to Riften and back."
"Don't get shot down," Brandon smirked, as he took a seat at the table. Harry smirked and made a rude gesture.
"Well? Coming?"
"Sure." Tommy's heart wasn't into it, but he grabbed his hooded jumper and bomber jacket, then followed Harry.
They climbed the numerous stairs which led to the roof of the dormitory, and there, Harry mounted the broom.
"Right. Climb on behind me. It's more comfortable than it looks," Harry promised.
"Sure there's room for us both?"
"Done it loads of times. Mazhe's been on with me plenty of times. He has a blast, having grown up here like I did—great," Harry said, as Tommy climbed on behind him, "Now wrap your arms around my waist—good. Feet up in the stirrups, beside mine. Ready?"
"Go for it."
They were off like a shot, the ground falling away in an instant, the dormitory resting on the edge of a steep drop down to the water below. Harry felt Tommy momentarily squeeze tighter, likely from the surprise, then relax, as he got used to the sensation. Flying on a broom was a completely different experience, whether one had experienced flight in any form or not.
In under a minute, they had already flown over the village of Winterhold, and were then making a track toward the southeast, rapidly gaining altitude to clear the mountains. Holding the broom with one hand, Harry quickly cast a warming charm on them, as the air was downright cold at that altitude.
"What's that down there?" Tommy pointed to a dramatic statue standing isolated on one of the mountain peaks.
"Mazhe told me it's the shrine to Azura, one of the Daedric deities. Neither of us have been there... Mazhe's a little weary of the Daedric princes, and honestly, so am I, from what he's told me."
"Right. How many are there?"
"Fifteen or sixteen. Then there's eight or nine divines—Mazhe says nine, and I follow his lead. Err... remember that this is a completely different world than ours. If God existed, I don't think he would exist here."
"You don't believe in God?"
"For those who believe, no proof is necessary. For those who do not believe, no proof is possible(1)," said Harry. "There is no proof God exists in our world."
"And here?"
"The rules are a little different. Thing is, blind faith isn't really a part of my world."
"Nor mine," Tommy agreed.
The pair fell silent as they made their way south. Over the next few hours, the ground below changed from frozen snow pack, to tundra, and then, a rather barren expanse, with steaming hot springs.
"Area looks volcanic," said Tommy.
"Gods... never thought of that," said Harry, slowing down a bit.
They circled around a peak in the middle of the area, then resumed their flight south. Now, the terrain gave way to a mostly conifer mix—pine and spruce trees, as they gained more altitude to clear the escarpment that marked the southern boundary of Eastmarch hold.
At the top of the escarpment, the vegetation changed again, from a hardwood-softwood mix, to a mainly hardwood mix. Popular, birch, and maple trees dominated the geography. They kept the high altitude as they flew over Shor's Stone, and Fort Greenwall, respectively. The fort was a known bandit hangout, and a confrontation with those animals was the last thing Harry wanted at the moment.
It was late afternoon by the time they touched down just outside of Riften, and with a hello to the gate guards, they stepped into the city proper.
"You know a lot of people." It wasn't a question.
"More or less. I've only been around this city for the past year, but... lots of nice people here. If I wasn't anchored at the College, I would likely move here. Delvin keeps trying to pull me out on a job with him, but... You know what they really do, right?"
"The guild. Uh, yeah, figured that out in about two seconds, Harry. Before I knew the name of the guild."
"Right. Needless to say, there are a few people who wouldn't be impressed should I actually start doing things for them."
"Being a little rebellious now and then never hurt anyone."
Harry smirked. "Mr. Riordan, you're a bad influence."
They soon found their way into the Ragged Flagon. Vex was nowhere to be seen, but Delvin was seated at his usual table, looking over a few pages of parchment. He looked up.
"Rather strange to find you here today, Harry."
"We had a rather stressful morning back in my own world, and my friend here needed some air." Harry glanced at Tommy. "Feeling a bit better now?"
"Yeah, a bit."
"Good."
Harry drew his wand, and tapped his broom once, shrinking it down so he could stow it in his pocket, then grabbed a seat. Tommy shed his jacket, and took the one across from him.
"Bottles of mead, for the pair of you?" Vekel asked from the bar.
"Please."
"Yeah, sure," Tommy agreed. He thought for a moment. "Gonna be dark by the time we get back."
"After dark, actually. You up to spending the night here?" Harry asked.
"Sure."
"A change of scenery will be good for us both."
Harry pulled out his mobile. He was still getting used to it, but considering it was a life-saver only a couple of weeks prior, he saw the benefit of having it. It took him nearly a minute to work through the address book and get the right number.
"Harry?" Came Justin's voice.
"Just letting you guys know, we're in Riften. Gonna spend the night, since I need to be here in the morning anyway."
"Oh. Well... okay, I'll let the others know."
"Thanks, mate. I'll see you guys tomorrow."
There was a pause. "I'll Apparate there with Mazhe sometime just before lunch."
"Great. Have a good night."
"Be safe." The connection closed, and Harry clipped the phone back on his belt.
"Find it fascinating you are able to do that," said Delvin.
"Bloody useful. It was Justin's work, making it all work here."
"And it would work anywhere in Skyrim?"
"I guess."
"Mercer might be interested in seeing one of those. They could be beneficial to the Guild."
"Well, he'd have to talk to Justin, they were his creation, like I said."
Vekel brought over two bottles of mead. "If you pair are staying, care for something to eat?"
"Sure. The usual then?" Harry glanced at Tommy, who gave a nod. After all, it wasn't the first time they had eaten a meal there.
"All right. It'll take a bit of time." He walked back over to the bar, and started pulling things out from under it.
"Thank you," Tommy said, quietly.
"For?"
"Being there with me today."
"I wouldn't do any less. You're part of us now. And I know if Justin didn't have things going on this morning, he would've been there too. I know that you probably feel like, you're completely alone, but... you're not. You're part of my circle—the few people I trust implicitly."
"Means a lot."
"Thing is, you need to find peace in yourself. Though I don't need to tell you that... Gods. And stop keeping everyone at arms' length."
"Right. You're fourteen. Don't talk about shit you ain't got no clue about."
Harry frowned. "Tommy, you read like a book sometimes. Your, uh, interactions with us are always closed and guarded—'cept when you've had a few shots of Firewhiskey—and even then. I heard somewhere that shortens someone's lifespan."
"So what?! Better than being abandoned, betrayed, all that shit that goes with it."
"A terrible existence," said Harry, shaking his head. "Look. I care for you. As much as I care for Mazhe—and Gods, I love Mazhe like a brother. If... no... I... I would be willing to sign a magically-binding contract if that would prove... I won't ever abandon you. I promise you."
"I want to believe you, Harry. I..." There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"I swear it. Give us a chance. Don't keep everyone at arm's length, it's not good for your soul."
They wasted the rest of the evening there, consuming more than a fair share of mead, along with a few servings of some more potent stuff. Harry didn't dare try and keep pace with his friend, but still ended up in no condition to really make it anywhere. In fact, he had no recollection of when he fell asleep.
Harry awoke a number of hours later, hearing someone muttering beside him. Casting bleary eyes around, he realized he was still in the Ragged Flagon, or just outside of it. Someone had moved the pair of them to some rough mats thrown down on top of a pile of hay in one of the unused alcoves. Tommy was still crashed out on his own mat, his jacket and hooded jumper tossed aside as he writhed fitfully.
"So sorry, Brendan," he muttered, "So... sorry..."
"Tommy..." Harry whispered, getting to a sitting position.
"'s too late..."
"Tommy..." Harry this time dared to reach over and give his hand a squeeze.
"Huh!?" He jerked awake, startled by the unexpected contact. His tee shirt was soaked with sweat.
"Sorry, mate. You... were muttering in your sleep. Hold still a moment." Harry waved his hand, and his friend was instantly dry.
"Thanks... Head hurts. Where... where are we again?"
"Ragged Flagon," Harry answered. Come to think of it, his head was hurting too. "Too much to drink last night."
"Helps to forget, though."
"But they still haunt your dreams. You were muttering in your sleep."
Tommy cast his eyes at the wall for a moment, then looked back at Harry.
"We could've started over, y'know. Then people from your world..."
"I know. You have a right to hate them. They took my parents from me. Tommy, it may sound crass... but... you had the privilege of knowing them. You made peace with your brother, right?"
"Yeah... but—"
"That's what you keep inside of you. That your brother loved you."
Harry reached over and put a hand on Tommy's chest.
"Your brother will always be with you, right here. And so will your mum and dad. They never really leave us. Just as much as my mum and dad will always be with me. They wait for me on the other side."
"You believe in the afterlife?"
"Yes. You've seen the ghosts at Hogwarts?"
"Yeah, of course. Freaked the shit out me the first time... You were there, remember?"
"Right." Harry grinned, remembering the near fainting spell brought on by Sir Nicholas.
"But what does that have to do with the afterlife?"
"It's a conscious choice someone makes before death. Again, at least what I've been told. Some people choose to stay here in the mortal world. Whether it be here in Skyrim, or back in our own. But most, they move on."
Tommy blew out a breath. "What time is it?"
"Really don't care at this point. No training this morning. Though I do have a lesson this morning with Balimund. Tempus," Harry muttered. 7:35 wafted from the end of his index finger in red numbers.
"Thought the point of this training was for your benefit."
"But not only, right? And stop changing the subject. Look, I don't know what you and miss Ferris talk about, but really, you have to get your house in order. I need all of you with us... not just someone going through the motions."
Tommy reached up and pushed Harry's hand away. "You're not my shrink."
"No, but you're one of my best friends." Harry put his hand back on Tommy's chest. "I won't let you self-destruct. Beside that, you have two beautiful nieces who adore their uncle."
Tommy rubbed his face with his hands.
"This is still messed up."
"But it's getting better, right?" Harry slid his hand up and give Tommy's shoulder a squeeze. "Everything will get better... even with the darkness on the horizon."
A blur of limbs a short distance away caught their attention. Justin and Mazhe had arrived by Port key.
"'morning, guys. Brought along some hangover cures, figured at least one of you would need it," Justin grinned. That earned him a rude gesture from Tommy.
"Thanks for the foresight, both of us will need it," said Harry, "Let's get up and about, so I can make my morning lesson with Balimund."
"We'll be heading there a little early," said Justin, as he passed Harry and Tommy the potions.
"Why?"
"You're gonna start learning how to Apparate."
"I thought—oh, right." Harry gave a sheepish grin.
July 12, 2005
Queen's High Court, Trevelyan
Now, it was Harry's turn to give testimony at the Enquiry. This time, Will and Alice attended with him, as the others were otherwise occupied.
"Mr. Potter, how is it that you came to attend the SPARTA tournament?"
"Justin... I mean, Dr. Fraser had secured tickets to the event. He didn't explain how or when."
"Were you aware of anything that looked out of place?"
"No, ma'am. It was the first time I ever attended anything of the sort, but... as far as anything threatening, no. I think if I'd seen anything, I probably wouldn't have stuck around."
"We would like for you to provide a pensieve account of the incident. Questions may be asked during playback."
"If the court will provide a pensive, then I will oblige," Harry answered, producing his wand.
An Auror quickly did so, and Harry drew out the appropriate memory. Much like with Tommy, the memory was only allowed to run for a few seconds, before one of the interrogators asked for it to be stopped.
"What did you think was going on at this point?"
"Dark wizards. There's no excuse to be shooting harmful magic into a crowd of innocent people, are we agreed on that?"
"A fair answer."
The memory was allowed to continue, but stopped again, where group was debating the course of action.
"Why did you choose to remain at the scene, rather than flee as was the original plan?"
"Madam justice, I believed they were Death Eaters—once I saw the black robes and the masks. I won't ever run from that lot. They murdered my mum and dad, my destiny has me on course to fight their master, and it's only right that, if confronted with his minions, I stay and fight, rather than flee with my tail between my legs. They're cowards, the lot of them, and we all need to stand up to them as a community."
Muttering came from the bench, as the interrogators all considered his words. From there, the memory was allowed to continue. It was stopped at the point where Harry was fixing Tommy's injured shoulder.
"Where did you learn your healing magic from, Mr. Potter?"
"Mostly through reading, actually. Where I was raised, I rely mostly on healing potions and that sort of thing. Here, meanwhile, many things can be fixed through spellwork."
"Was Mr. Riordan seen by a healer?"
"Healer Ferris is a registered healer in both the regular field, as well as in the mind arts, madam justice," said Alice. "Both Mr. Potter and Mr. Riordan have been to see her. Though, Mr. Potter has only needed her services briefly."
The memory continued, and this time, it was allowed to play through to its end—the Portkey back to the College.
"According to the Auror Office, the port key took your group into Skyrim, specifically the College of Winterhold. Is this true?"
"Yes ma'am."
"For what purpose would you subject a group of non-magical strangers to such actions and behaviours?"
"My first thought was immediate safety of everyone in the group, whether they be my dearest friend, or my newest. Given the heavy layers of security put on the connection between our world and Tamriel, the chances are next to nil that some sort of threat will be able to follow us there," Harry answered.
"It's a fair answer, madam justice," said a man further down the row, "It is one of the most secure connections in the Commonwealth, the level of protection placed on it is nearly impossible to crack."
"The Orb of Magnus might have something to do with that," said a witch on the far left side of the bench. "No matter, the discussion of security measures on that connection is not the purpose of this enquiry."
Harry was more than glad when the questioning was finished. The event had been terrifying in its own way (although nothing of the caliber of what happened at the end of the Triwizard tournament). Having to relive the memory of it again, was the last thing he wanted to do at this point. He knew the day was wasted at this point, for no matter how much he tried, he could not put the terrible memories to bed.
Late hours, July 31, 2005 / 31 Sun's Height, 4E200
Harry was fifteen by his chronological clock, but he felt twenty, given all he had experienced in his young life. They had held a party in the Virtual Projection Room aboard the Ragnar, with more than a few guests being invited. The other three champions from the tournament had attended, as had the Weasleys, Hermione, a number of people from Skyrim, and a number of his friends and acquaintances from the Commonwealth. Even the Queen had shown up at one point, to wish him a Happy Birthday in person.
His birthday gifts had varied tremendously, given the wide spectrum of individuals present. A box of chocolate frogs from Neville; a broom servicing kit from Ron; Hermione gave him a gift certificate for Flourish & Blotts, along with a catalogue of their inventory so he could order by owl rather than shop in person.
The twins, as Harry somewhat expected, gave him a gift certificate for Zonkos' joke shop, but also enclosed a note saying they had something extra to give him, but wanted to do so away from the presence of their parents—in other words, they wanted to give him something Mrs. Weasley would likely strongly disapprove of.
Mazhe had given him a pair of Daedric daggers he'd had Eorland Grey-mane craft for him. He didn't have to ask to know they were expensive; Daedric weapons and armour were insanely rare, because they were incredibly difficult to make. Only a few people knew how to make that sort of thing, as far as he knew, and it was a well-known fact that Eorland Grey-mane was perhaps the best blacksmith in Skyrim.
The rest of his circle were rather tight-lipped about what exactly they had gotten him, only saying that it would be delivered the following day sometime; there had been delays in getting it finished—that from Justin. So, Harry had to assume it was likely something from the government.
All in all, it had been a fantastic day, and thinking back, it had been an eye-opener in how many people he counted as friends and allies. For everyone to be gathered in one place, there had been easily forty people attending. Most of them were adults, but to him it really didn't matter. They were all on his side, quite willing to fight for him and beside him when the time came to do so.
He smiled briefly, thinking of what he now referred to as his circle—his absolute closest friends: Mazhe, Tommy, and Justin. They would go to the wall for Harry, and then some—just as much as Harry would do the same for them. When things didn't make sense, his circle was his anchor; they kept him grounded.
It was at lunch time the following day when his circle presented him with one last birthday gift.
"But, I already have a trunk—what would I want with a chest?" Harry asked, seeing the large chest now resting on the floor in their rooms at the College.
"It ain't no ordinary chest," said Tommy, shaking his head. "Trust us, it's awesome."
That piqued Harry's interest.
"Right. What did you guys do?" He looked pointedly at Justin.
"Actually, it was Tommy's idea, we just helped. And since Mazhe was already working on something on his own," Justin explained.
"We, uh, collected this from a bandit camp east of Whiterun," said Mazhe, "Justin did a bit of cleaning, but, uh, the group of us took it to a place that... what was it?"
"Dealt in wizarding travelling gear," Justin picked up, "The three of us threw in to have some modifications made to it."
"Just take a look... better than tyring to explain it," said Tommy.
"Very true." Justin put a key in the lock, and turned it—Harry noticed that there were actually two different locks. He opened the lid, and climbed into it. Harry was still confused as to what his friend was up to... that was until he actually disappeared.
"Shor's balls..."
Mazhe only grinned, while Tommy smirked.
"Err... right." Harry climbed into the trunk, thinking how nuts that would actually look... until he found his feet were on a ladder disappearing below. "Bloody hell..."
"C'mon down, Harry! Trust me, you'll love it!" Justin called.
Harry hesitated for a moment, but finally climbed down the ladder. He was even more stunned by what he found when he finally stepped off of it.
"Holy... It's like a hidden room!"
"Exactly like a hidden room. Or an entire apartment, in this case. This is the common room. A place to sit and relax, a table for eating and studying—there's a small kitchenette through that door," said Justin, pointing to a doorway. "Bathroom." another door to the right. "And rooms for each of us." He pointed to a corridor leading off the common room.
"And a virtual projection room," said Mazhe, stepping off the ladder.
"No way."
"Yeah, that was one of the reasons this was a bit late. The government sort of helped us out with this."
"Yeah, someone muttering about us using the Ragnar's too much," said Tommy. He was half-way down the ladder.
"Holy... just, I'm speechless, guys. You're the best," Harry grinned.
"Now something to keep in mind. This is not meant as a permanent home or anything like that. But it's good for temporary situations, shit like that," Justin explained, "The food stores are good for a week before they have to be restocked."
"Oh but still this is brilliant!"
"Tell him about the portability thing," Tommy reminded him.
"Oh, yeah... right. Let's go back outside," said Justin.
Back outside of the chest, Justin slammed the lid closed.
"One thing we should do before we do anything else... you need to claim ownership."
"How do I do that?" Harry asked.
"Blood. A simple drop of blood, put on the key before it is inserted into the lock. It will lock the ownership to you."
"Got something I can poke my finger with—no... Balls, I'm not gonna slice myself open," Harry snorted, at Tommy's offered blade.
"Here." Justin produced a quill, which Harry used to poke one of his fingers, and let a single drop of blood well up from the wound. He rubbed it on the key, then inserted it into the lock. The chest vibrated a moment, but lay still.
"That's it?" Harry asked, then sucked on his finger to stop it bleeding.
"That's it. Now. Put a hand on the chest, while thinking, 'shrink'."
Harry did as instructed, and was momentarily surprised to find it instantly shrunk down to the size of a matchbox.
"Wicked."
"Very handy. A suggestion from a colleague, they were only happy to help. Now... touch it while thinking 'enlarge'."
Harry did so, and this time was not so much surprised, as the chest resumed its original size.
"What if there are people inside?"
"Then for now, they wouldn't be able to get out again—though I might have an idea or two on how to fix that."
"But... how?" Harry was confused.
"This is what's called a pocket dimension. It exists outside of this plane. So what's happening outside the chest won't have any effect on what's inside. It's also been spelled to be tamper-proof, waterproof, and fireproof."
"And you're the only one right now that can move it," said Mazhe, still smirking. "Quite funny watching Tommy here trying to move it after the ownership charms were put on it."
"Yeah, real funny," Tommy muttered, clearly not amused from that episode. He smirked. "Got him back for it though."
Justin scowled. "Real mature."
"Oh, Muggle pranking can be the best sometimes," Harry grinned. He got serious.
"Guys. Thanks. This means a lot to me."
August 8, 2005 / 8 Last Seed, 4E200
Now that the tournament was over and done with, it was finally decided the Ragnar should return to its normal patrol route over the mid-Atlantic ocean. Harry had watched as they departed from the Black lake a few days prior, but soon grew bored as they left land behind, and set out over the ocean. Her patrol altitude was extreme, clearing normal aviation traffic by nearly ten thousand feet.
Harry found it strange, in some ways, to see clear weather outside the window. Being up so high, they left the clouds far below them, and their current flight path gave them a southern exposure, the sun's rays streaming in the windows from sunrise to sunset. The Ragnar was a truly astonishing bit of engineering, from both a magical and a non-magical perspective, maintaining a slow, almost lazy path across the sky heading westward.
Back to the point of our story, it was getting on to 4 am, with everyone having long gone to bed, when everyone dragged back to consciousness by a blaring klaxon.
"AIC to all hands, brace for impact!" came a warning over the public address system.
"Huh?!" Harry muttered, gesturing at himself with a hand, instantly changing into the clothes he had on last night.
"Harry?" Brandon asked, already at the door. He was half-dressed, his boots thrown on haphazardly, along with a white tank top.
"Got no clue. C'mon, fireplace, right now," Harry decided. "Mazhe went back to the College didn't he?"
"Yeah, just before."
"What's going on?" Tommy had joined Brandon at the door to the room.
"Come on, we're getting out of here," Harry said again.
"Where's Justin?" asked Brandon.
"Not in his room? No clue. C'mon."
The three of them made it out into the corridor, and half-way across the common room before the floor under them lurched, and the room seemed to lean sideways. Brandon managed to grab onto the couch, but it was futile, and he fell over, and slid down the floor to land in a heap against the wall. Harry slid a little more gracefully, but still landed in a heap, while Tommy careened across the room, and crashed into one of the windows. Still, the deck continued to tilt, until they were at a dangerous sixty-degree angle.
"TOMMY MOVE!" Harry shouted, and the guy managed to clear just in time for one of the heavy couches to come crashing into the spot he'd just been. "Gods, what the hell are they doing?"
More items were coming loose, and he instinctively produced a shield to deflect the debris. Logs from the fireplace, with their cinders scattering in all directions; books, plates and other items from the shelves... They were forced to move abruptly again, as another chair wrenched itself loose, and came crashing down to impact with the wall.
"Shit!" Harry cursed, and banished a heavy bookcase which had come loose, and would have landed on top of Tommy. The angle was slowly lessening, but now it felt like they were descending, the floor was sloping forward.
"Jesus Christ," Brandon muttered, "Evasive manoeuvres..." He shook his head, slumped up against the wall.
"Ditto," said Harry. He glanced over at Tommy, who was holding his face. "Shit. Tommy... you all right?"
"No... my nose..."
A glance at the window told Harry what had happened. He'd likely busted his nose when he hit the glass. There was a splatter of blood high up on it.
"Protect your face, mate." Harry warned, holding out his right hand. "Accio Tommy!"
It felt like he'd been snagged by an enormous hook, and yanked across the room. Harry expertly caught his friend, and with Brandon' help, they got him laid out flat.
"Let me see," said Harry, pulling Tommy's hand away from his face. There was a lot of blood. "Shit. This is gonna hurt, but I can fix it."
"Jub do ib," Tommy muttered.
Harry put a finger close to Tommy's busted nose. "Episkey."
"AAAAAH!" Tommy shouted... and the pain was gone quick as it had came.
"Evanesco," Harry muttered, and the blood vanished from his face and clothes. "Better?"
"Thank you."
The ship was starting to right herself at this point, the severe angle of the deck becoming gradually less, as was the forward slope.
"She's returning to level flight. Just... holy fuck," Brandon muttered, clearly not impressed.
"AIC to all hands, this is the XO. We are returning to level flight. All departments, damage report beginning with that demanding immediate attention," came a voice over the public address system.
"AIC, Technomancy Lab. Major fire, fire suppression failure. Compartment has been sealed, but we need all the help we can get down here."
"Copy, Technomancy Lab."
"AIC, Herbology. We have people trapped down here, we need extra wands on site A.S.A.P."
"Copy, Herbology."
Harry looked between Brandon and Tommy, and there was a silent agreement on what to do. Harry picked up the phone by the doors, and remembering the code to reach the AIC, he punched it in.
"It's Harry Potter. What can we do?" he asked, hearing a voice on the other end.
It proved a very busy day for them, as they helped clear one calamity after another. Eric had met up with them a short while later. Most of their efforts went into moving heavy objects and equipment to free people from under it. Given the colossal size of the ship, there were a lot of big things on board—things that could easily pin a human being, whether magical or not.
The sun was disappearing over the western horizon before they returned to the suite, and Harry mentally groaned. Being tied up with helping everywhere else, there had been no time to put their suite back to rights.
"To hell with this. We'll spend the night at the College."
"After this shit... how about we just stay there?" Tommy muttered. The four of them were dirty, sweaty, and tired from the legwork.
"Humph... agreed," Harry said, wearily. "Rude awakening this morning, bloody hell."
It was late the next morning before any of them stirred. Stepping out of his compartment, he found Alice seated at the table, a newspaper in front of her.
"Good morning, Harry," she greeted him warmly.
"Alice... did... something happen?"
"You're front page news this morning," she answered, indicating the paper. It was a copy of the National Daily Chronicle, and a large picture dominated the front page. It was of him, Tommy, Eric, and Brandon, just after clearing a group of people trapped by fallen debris. The four of them looked a mess, soaking wet, the dust having caked onto their clothes like mud.
BOY-WHO-LIVED, FRIENDS ASSIST IN DRAMATIC RESCUE
Harry Potter and a friend, along with two members of Her Majesty's Special Operations Unit, assisted in the rescue of dozens of individuals in the early hours of yesterday morning, after the HMS Ragnar was forced to perform evasive manoeuvres in an attempt to avoid a mid-air collision with another aircraft, resulting in the dislodging of many pieces of equipment and other objects inside her.
Persons among those rescued by the famous boy—who just turned fifteen a week ago—include the son of Nathan Blake, the Minister of Justice, and the nephew of Prime Minister Victoria Martin. Both minister Blake and Prime Minister Martin are issuing informal statements of gratitude for the rescue of their loved ones, although something much more formal may be on the way, given the selfless actions of those four gentlemen yesterday morning.
There have been many questions floated about within Mr. Potter's country of birth as of late, questioning his motives and even his sanity, but his actions yesterday clearly demonstrate the boy is nothing less than a hero, an individual who takes action when times demand it.
The same can be said of those working alongside him.
"The four of them worked as a team," one crew member said, when asked of the trio's efforts yesterday. "Harry would lift, while Tommy would pull people out from behind whatever it was that had them trapped. Lt. Commander McAllister, and 1st Lt. Gomrass worked with equal speed in putting things to rights, removing obstructions, and directing medical teams."
The third member, Thomas Conlon, has been a member of Harry's group of friends since the incident in Atlantic City on October 31 of last year, and by what little information we were able to gather, has been training Mr. Potter in a number of areas, including strength training.
We were unable to secure any sort of statement from Mr. Potter, or Mr. Conlon by press-time, but... (see Official, page 2)
Why was Ragnar forced into a dangerous manoeuvre? Page 5
Thomas Conlon: Hero complex? Page 10
Atlantic City incident: The ripple effect, page 8
Lies in the Daily Prophet: Lack of decorum in the English media, editorial, page 18.
Harry could only smile, seeing the picture. He didn't see his actions as heroic, but that was fine. They had worked as a team, that was very true. His thoughts were interrupted as the floo fired, and Justin stepped out of the grate.
"Damn, Harry. Magnet for trouble, aren't you."
"And good morning to you too," said Harry, sarcastically.
"You guys are all okay?"
"Tommy busted his nose when the ship rolled, but I was able to fix it. That was it."
Justin looked at the paper and grinned.
"Well, you guys certainly look the team there. Lots of people very proud of you guys this morning."
"Why did the Ragnar have to do that though. Shit, we could've been killed," said Harry, as he filled his plate.
"It was a seven-sixty-seven. It was somehow off course, from what I could gather. The government's handling it."
"Handling it?" Harry arched an eyebrow.
"Nothing bad. The aircraft narrowly avoided collision, but the government will still modify peoples' memories just to ensure the Statute of Secrecy remains intact," Alice answered.
"After that, we're likely gonna be staying here for the most part. There was unspoken agreement between us last night."
"Fair enough. Considering you've got your own Virtual Projection Room inside of your chest now. Thing is, Harry, I know you like the Ragnar. You'll be back there sooner than later." That got a rude gesture for his effort.
August 18, 2005
It being summer time, there was no need for the staff to be in the Great Hall for lunch. And so it was, that the headmaster was having lunch in his office, when the gargoyle below informed him his deputy was on the way up. He waited until she was just about to knock before calling out, "Come in, Minerva."
The door opened and McGonagall stepped into the office, bringing with her a newspaper.
"Potter has been rather busy the last few days," she said, dropping the paper on Dumbledore's desk. It was not a copy of the Daily Prophet, but a paper out of the Commonwealth. The photo took up the top half of the paper, featuring a stoic-looking boy-who-lived, along with Tommy Conlon, all standing on a dais, while the Queen presented some sort of pin to each of them.
POTTER, CONLON AWARDED P. J. WARREN AWARD FOR SPECIAL SERVICES TO THE COMMONWEALTH
Actions on August 8 garner recognition of heroic actions
In response to the selfless acts of Mr. Potter and his friends a week ago Friday, the government has awarded Mr. Potter and Mr. Conlon one of the highest forms of recognition possible for a civilian within the Commonwealth.
"The actions of these fine gentlemen exemplify a great level of care and respect for their fellow man, in this case members of the HMS Ragnar's crew, all put in dire circumstances following sudden evasive action required to avoid a mid-air collision with another craft. These gentlemen were not required to do so, being guests aboard Our ship, but did so anyway, earning the praise and gratitude of her crew.
"Therefore, it is with tremendous gratitude that We award Harry Potter and Thomas Conlon the Philip James Warren Award for special services to the Commonwealth. May it be said the men before you have strong hearts, and may they be an inspiration to us all in the dark times that loom ahead," proclaimed the Queen, at a special ceremony yesterday at her palace at Trevelyan.
When asked of his involvement in the aftermath of the incident on August 8, Mr. Potter answered, "It was the right thing to do. We aren't going to just let people die. They are sons and daughters of the Commonwealth, a place I am proud to call home... though I would do this anywhere. We have a responsibility to look out for each other, no matter how dangerous or frightening it may be."
Indeed, a rather bold answer, one that will certainly have a great many of us within Valicadia thinking. Their actions should inspire us all to do right by one another in the (See Dark Times, page 3)
Potter: Youngest recipient of P. J. Warren Award, page 8
Timeline of events from August 8, page 6
Debunking the Prophet: Potter more than sane, page 13
"Harry has been busy then," said Dumbledore, as he finished the article.
"More than busy, Albus. Their paper from August 9th. He is no longer a student here, but he acted every bit the Gryffindor, according to the article."
She plopped another newspaper on the desk. This one featuring the photo of the quartet during the incident. He mentally frowned at the image; All of the faces in the photo were giving him dirty looks, as if they knew who was looking at them. Harry was becoming a young man rather than a boy, and this latest award only gave further credence to the notion. With each passing day, he slipped further and further from his grasp.
"Nearly a hundred people rescued between the four of them," said McGonagall.
"Yes, I do agree, a wonderful achievement, considering the dreadful press he has been getting here at home."
"And you and I both know it's not just him getting bad press here, Albus. Surely there is something you can do to get some sort of control over miss Skeeter and her poison pen."
"I do wish there was, Minerva. Unfortunately there are things which do take a much higher priority at the moment, the search for a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor being one of them. I'm sure the Ministry won't do us any good should they choose."
"Albus, I truly hope you don't plan on trying to drag Potter back to the school. He resents us enough as it is."
"He needs to be here amongst his peers," Dumbledore answered firmly.
McGonagall mentally sighed. Albus was really pushing things, and in some ways, it was frightening. The Commonwealth operated outside of the ICW. They could do a lot of damage if they truly wanted to, and it had been quite evident as to how far they were willing to go when it came to protecting the interests of Harry Potter. She knew, if it really came down to it, the Commonwealth would likely go to war to protect him. If Albus didn't soon understand that, Voldemort would be the least of his problems.
"Excellent. Now again. Across the room," said Justin. They were once again in the Ragged Flagon, having just completed their morning training session, taking advantage of the warm weather. Their morning run had taken them to the bridge to Goldenglow Estate and back. They knew better than to cross over to the island. The estate was well-protected, and their presence would most certainly be unwelcome.
"About time I got the hang of it," Harry grinned.
He twisted on the spot, and vanished with a noisy crack, to reappear on the opposite side of the chamber. He checked himself over although he hadn't felt any sort of pain, just to make sure. Splinching, or leaving parts of himself behind, had been an issue for a while—with some rather grotesque results. Justin, of course, had been able to quickly fix things, but it was still unsettling, just the same.
Then, there had been the teasing that came about initially. It did look rather ridiculous as he first began to learn how to Apparate, twisting around on the spot and falling on his arse more times than he could count. Mazhe learned not to laugh after the second time his mouth had magically filled with dish soap. Same went for Tommy. Oh yes, they learned.
Brynjolf learned too, finding himself turned upside down and suspended by the ankles from the roof of the Flagon. It wasn't one of his best moments. Harry had warned him the first time: "I'll hang you upside down like a bat." Delvin had thought it amusing, at least until he joined his Guild mate. The lot of them learned: Taunt or tease Harry at your peril.
A week later, August 28, Harry attended an exam for his Apparition license. It was over in a half-hour, and given his constant one-on-one instruction, he passed without difficulty. It resulted in a spontaneous celebration at the Ragged Flagon, and needless to say, none of the circle were in much shape to do anything the following morning.
UP NEXT: Harry, Mazhe, and Tommy join an ongoing College-led study of an ancient Nordic ruin; their exploration sets events in motion that could threaten the very land.