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Posted May 4, 2014
SUMMARY: Harry and his friends take a weeks' vacation in San Francisco, where they meet a few more friends, and Harry gets an idea of something to do for Mazhe as a wedding gift; an incident sends everyone in the flat, the Ragged Flagon, and the cistern fleeing; and a missive from Voldemort sets in motion a final meeting, and a possible ending to things...
37: PARTY TO AN END
March 30 – May 8, 2007
March 30, 2007 / 30 First Seed, 4E202
Harry read the missive he was about to send one more time before he put the seal on it. The past few weeks had looked more than promising, as far as what he was seeing in the missives he was receiving from Voldemort. At this point, the Dark Lord was all but convinced Harry was working toward the same end. There had been some expressed interest in Harry perhaps running a joint operation of sorts with the Death Eaters. Harry had not commented thus far—advised not to by the Department of Information. However, the department had suggested that perhaps now was the time to 'offer a carrot', and dangle the forbidden knowledge of the black books. Hence, the missive.
With that business taken care of, a rather large group consisting of Harry, Mazhe, Justin, Tommy, Eric, Brandon, Dardanos, Crixus, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Dean, and Seamus, travelled by floo powder to San Francisco. Miraak decided to remain behind, wishing to continue studies. He also wanted to speak with the Greybeards concerning a number of things, namely the possibility of there being other word walls out in the world.
Like in years prior, Harry and his entourage would use the Fox Theatre's private suites on the top floor as their base, as the plan was to spend over a week as a sort of vacation. There had been debate as to how everyone would actually fit, but Harry quickly realized, the government had made modifications so everyone would be comfortable. Of course, he also quietly wondered why the didn't just set everyone up in a hotel. It would have been easier... right?
For the next week, the group became tourists, taking in the sights and sounds of the city by the bay—some for the first time. Crixus and Dardanos had certainly seen snippets, glimpses of modern society, but this? Both ancient men were astounded, being immersed in the fast-paced world of the twenty-first century.
The Golden Gate Bridge was one of their first outings, where the group got yet another near impossible photograph, thanks to Eric this time. Crixus and Dardanos were astonished, seeing the iconic structure up close.
"Gods... and the Romans were known to build great things," said Crixus, shaking his head.
"And yet our modern world surpassed all of their works many times over," said Brandon, as they began to walk back to the south end of the bridge, "We have built things far greater."
"I would see us visit them all—or... some of them," Harry decided.
"Harry, we're wizards. I think it could be quite easily arranged, if that's what you'd like to do," said Justin.
"Something you guys could do for your honeymoon," Eric suggested.
"Err... well... uh..."
"What's a honeymoon?" Mazhe asked.
"It's... well... a tradition when people get married," Hermione answered, "People usually go away, just themselves, to—"
"Bond, consummate the marriage, uh—right, I'll shut up now," said Justin, catching the glare Harry was giving him. That had most of the group laughing.
That evening, the group ended up going out to dinner, where they helped the twins celebrate their eighteenth birthday. Lots of food, lots of cake, and lots of drink was consumed (at least for those who were of age... or looked of age). It resulted in a late night, with the group not returning to the theatre until the early hours of the morning.
The following day they visited Fisherman's Wharf, and the S.S. Jeremiah O'Brian, one of only two world war two Liberty Ships still in operating condition. In retrospect, perhaps it wasn't the greatest idea, considering the number of pureblood wizards in the group—never mind two time travellers. More than a few awkward questions were asked, and only the discreet action of the SOU prevented things from getting out of hand.
On April 4, the group was treated to a baseball game at AT&T Park(1), where the San Francisco Giants welcomed the San Diego Padres. As had been the case with the Quidditch World Cup, the large group were treated to a private box, this time covered by Valicor. Crixus, Dardanos were intrigued by the game, although they were somewhat lost as far as the rules of the game went. The home team ended up losing 5-3, but it was an entertaining evening all in all.
The following day featured a ride on San Francisco's famous cable car system. Though Harry and a few of the others had been to the city on several occasions in years previous, they'd not had the opportunity. It turned out to be rather amusing, considering they were a rather large group, and they ended up all but taking over one of the trolleys for nearly half the day. Thank the gods for the day passes...
April 6 marked the beginning of the second annual AT&T Invitational Show Choir Tournament. The tournament had been revised slightly, now being hosted over the Easter weekend. There had also been debate about moving it to a larger venue, but for now it was decided to stay with the current plan. As had been the format the previous year, twelve clubs were chosen from entrants across the continent—there had been entries from all over the U.S., Canada, and even a few schools in Mexico. The clubs chosen were notified in January, to give them ample time to clear their schedules and the like. Travel and accommodation was handled by Valicor, though they remained a silent sponsor of the event—their involvement was brought on due to one of the previous year's contestants nearly declined the invitation, finding it difficult to pay for such things.
The tournament had been expanded to four days, this time allowing six clubs to showcase their talent on Friday, with the rest performing on Saturday. The best three clubs from each day would then move on to perform again on Sunday. The best three from Sunday would then go on to perform Monday, with the winner taking home the five thousand dollar purse, awarded to the school, rather than the club itself.
Friday turned out to be a zoo of activity in the morning, with the noise drifting up into the suites from the stage below—the private suites had at one time been offices, built virtually on top of the backstage area. The show itself more than made up for it, however. As had been the case the previous year, the clubs were all outstanding with their performances, and the judges most certainly had their work cut out for them.
If Friday had been intense, Saturday proved astounding, as far as the musical performances were concerned. However, at the end of the day's competition, more than a few of the group expressed annoyance at some of the musical choices.
"Look, mate... I think I'd like to head back to... well, where me ma is," said Seamus, "It's been fun and all, but..."
"If you so wish. If there are others that desire an early end to our holiday, I understand," said Harry, "This news does not disappoint me, as your company has been most welcome for the past week."
"I'll take any of you who wish to go back to Skyrim," Brandon offered, "Eric, you got the fort until I get back."
"Sir," said Eric, simply.
Harry watched as a good portion of the group followed Brandon down the corridor.
"I'm surprised that Ron and Hermione headed home—I would've thought they would want to stick around," said Mazhe.
"No, I... I guess I sort of understand. All of them, for that matter. They're... let's see... I think Hermione's seventeen now, but Ron... Ron's still sixteen."
"And you're going on eighteen now," said Justin, "I get where you're going."
"I thank the gods we were able to spend time this week. That we drift apart, I can only expect it. Just as Mazhe and I will make a life together, so too will my friends."
Once Brandon returned, the somewhat smaller group went out for a late dinner, which graduated to club-hopping until the wee hours of the following morning. It was only when Harry, Dardanos, and Crixus began singing a rather obnoxious, lewd song, that Brandon firmly called it a night. As it was, he'd had to do some rather creative spell work to avoid a visit from the American Department of Magic—Mazhe had gotten rather upset at the waiter and had nearly shouted him across the room. So it was, they all piled into an extended limo for the ride back to the theatre.
April 8, 2007 / 8 Rain's Hand, 4E202
Like Mazhe, Harry got about three hours' rest. The pair of them were still somewhat intoxicated, but they both had need of the restroom. Somewhat still out of it, neglecting the idea of just using a sobriety draught, they clumsily made their way to the restrooms at the west end of the building.
"Seriously... you could've killed the guy," Harry muttered, as they stumbled back out into the corridor after finishing their business, "We're in a non-magical area... last thing I need is you getting hauled off to a holding cell."
"I wasn't thinking."
"Keep hold of your thoughts and remember where you are—"
"Harry, where are we going? The suite was back there."
"My feet have not yet decided," Harry answered, "But I do not mind, so long as you follow."
Mazhe leaned down and kissed Harry's forehead. "My place will always be by your side. I would battle Shor himself to make it so."
Harry gave a smile. "I'm sure you would."
Wandering the corridors of the building eventually led them into the auditorium itself, and up onto the enormous stage. The auditorium was for the most part dark, with only a few isle lights and the exit signs, with the small amount of light flooding in from the doors leading out to the lobby. The stage itself was dimly lit.
"Could you imagine, standing here, singing before all those faces out there?"
Harry made a sour face. "The thought terrifies me. You know I dislike the spotlight, Mazhe."
"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players..." Mazhe quoted, "They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts..."
"Hmm... right, Shakespeare," Harry remembered.
"I love the analogy. Though, I think, we have played many parts already."
"Some parts, whether we desire it so or not," Harry agreed.
Mazhe kissed Harry on the forehead again, then smirked. "Gods... enough with the mushy stuff. The auditorium is bare, with me your only audience. You must have something you might sing."
Harry smirked right back, remembering the lewd song he was singing with Crixus and Dardanos the previous night. He cleared his throat.
"The blood rains down from an angry sky;
His cock rages on, his cock rages on;
'till death is found, his sword swinging hot;
His cock standing hard, his cock standing hard;"
He was by no means an accomplished singer, nor was he terrible—but let's face it, this is something Harry would never do if completely alert and sober. His voice carried quite well in the enormous auditorium, quite likely up into the private suite for good measure.
"I give it a six. His voice carries well, though the subject matter leaves something to be desired," came a youthful voice from the back of the auditorium, just as a number of house lights switched on, brightening the room somewhat. Harry was mortified to realize a group of people had stepped into the auditorium from the lobby as he was singing.
"No, dude. A ten, for bad-assry," quipped another. Harry now wanted to just twist on the spot and Disapparate, to hell with the consequences.
"Guys. Enough," said yet another.
He appeared to be older than the others, likely being the chaperone for the group, who were obviously one of the clubs competing in the tournament.
"This is a closed auditorium. How'd you get in here?"
"Uh, they've got clearance to be here," said one of the security guards from the next set of doors. She had also stepped into the room to investigate.
"Forgive us, we didn't realize the, uh, space would be needed this early," said Mazhe. The club were by that point making their way through the auditorium.
Chuckles from behind them had both Harry and Mazhe turn around, to find Brandon and Eric, doing their best not to burst out laughing.
"I... uh, think the whole building heard us," Mazhe sniggered.
"Great confidence builder."
"You pair, uh, forgot the... morning supplements," said Brandon, producing a pair of vials. Both Harry and Mazhe accepted them without question, knowing they would likely be sobriety draughts, something that should have been taken in the first place before they set off roaming the building without supervision.
"I think we'll file this under, 'Requires adult supervision'," Eric grinned. He earned a rude gesture for the effort.
"So any particular reason the pair of you were in here singing such a... no, I revise that... that cannot be considered music, it's downright offensive," said the first speaker, "William Fox(1) is likely rolling over in his grave about now."
"Kurt..." one of the female members of the club scolded.
Harry could feel his face getting hot. "I honestly didn't know anything else. Apologies."
"I'm Mazhe. This is Harry, Eric, and Brandon." He thought for a moment. "You guys are the club from Ohio, right?"
"That's... that's right," said the older guy, "Uh, I'm Will Schuester, the... I'm the club director and the chaperone. I'll let..."
"I'm Rachel, this is Jesse, Finn, Noah—"
"It's Puck," the guy she was identifying corrected.
"Noah," Rachel insisted, to which Harry had to grin.
She continued to introduce the members of the club, with Harry committing the names carefully to memory—perhaps more for the exercise of it than anything. It all came back to practice with his Occlumency. With the upcoming battle with Voldemort, he did have to be on his game.
Harry could also read into a few of the relationships in the group. Rachel and Jesse were definitely an item, although there was some tension there—ah, that would do it, Harry realized, getting a quick glance at the guy's thoughts. No, having three boys all share the same role in a racy video without the others' knowledge, is NOT a way for Rachel to endear herself to them(2).
No matter. Harry realized their problems were ridiculously simple compared to his own. They'd all had their hearts broken, failed a test, gotten in trouble with their parents... Mercedes and her self-image issues... even Quinn's pregnancy... it was all a flash in the pan compared to what Harry had already faced, just a few months shy of turning eighteen(3).
One person he did feel for in a small way, was Artie. The young man was wheelchair-bound for life as a result of a terrible accident when he was only eight years old. To be disabled in such a manner? Harry mentally shivered at the thought.
As they chatted amongst themselves, Eric and Brandon quickly offered to help Artie up onto the stage, effortlessly lifting both the wheelchair and its occupant.
"Oh. Guys. Wondered where you'd went." Harry turned to find Justin, Dardanos, and Crixus walking over from a backstage door.
"Harry's feet led him here, and we've met some new friends," said Mazhe.
"Ah. Well. Welcome. I'm Justin, this is Dardanos, and Crixus."
Mazhe smirked. "You remember what you guys were singing last night that finally got us banned from the last bar we were at?"
"How could we not?" Crixus laughed.
"The song fell from your lips here," Dardanos guessed.
"I revise my earlier score, and give it a zero," said Kurt, folding his arms across his chest. That got a boisterous laugh out of Crixus and Dardanos.
"Such a song was not meant for youth, Harry. Why would you see it fall from tongue?"
"It was not my intent," Harry answered, shaking his head.
"None of us have virgin ears here," said Artie.
"Guys, it's still not appropriate," said Mr, Schuester.
"Again, my apologies," said Harry, with a frown.
Mercedes gave a smirk of her own and crossed her arms. "So, white boy, know something better than that vulgar tune you were sharing when we came in?"
"Like I said earlier, not really," Harry answered, "Where I come from... how I was raised, really not a lot of time for singing."
It was then one of the organists entered from backstage. There were several organists working the event, though they were only needed before the day's competition, and during intermissions. The console was already rising out of the floor, and so Justin met the man, and spoke quietly with him for a few moments, before returning to the gathering.
"Well, maybe Harry doesn't have something, but... uh, Vera Lynn made this song famous in 1939. I'm not her, and obviously I'm not a girl, but..."
The organist had taken a seat at the console, and began to play, the wonderful sound instantly filling the auditorium. Justin began to sing:
"We'll meet again...
Don't know where, don't know when,
but I know we'll meet again some sunny day...
Keep smiling through,
Just like you always do,
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds, far away."
Rachel couldn't resist, and picked up,
"So will you please say hello,
To the folks that I know,
Tell them I won't be long,
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go
I was singing this song."
It was magical, as the rest of the club picked up the chorus:
"We'll meet again,
Don't know where,don't know when,
But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day.(4)"
Harry ended up dancing slowly with Mazhe, taking in the hopeful message of the song. Harry found it amazing how the rest of the club had easily filled in the harmonies—they all worked easily together, even though it had been Justin to start things off.
Harry and his circle spent the next hour with the club as they rehearsed their performance. Rachel was most definitely the club's best vocalist, with Jesse being her opposite. Finn, a boy who was actually taller than Mazhe—though not by much, came in a close third. Of course, the rest of the club were no slackers when it came to singing, there were no passengers. They all carried the weight of the performance.
When the next club arrived for their allotted rehearsal time, Mr. Schuester invited Harry's group to join the club as they went for breakfast. It was an excellent suggestion, as Harry realized he was actually starving.
After retrieving coats, the two groups invaded a diner not far from the theatre. The size of the party had several waitresses scrambling to join tables together so everyone could sit together.
"So, you guys are actually staying in the theatre then," Jesse guessed.
"Yeah," Justin answered, "We've been here since the beginning of the month, as a vacation."
"Spring break? Bit late isn't it?"
Harry looked at Jesse, confused. Justin answered, "No, not exactly. Our spending a week here has become a bit of a yearly tradition."
"Oh. I see."
"Our group has somewhat diminished since yesterday," said Harry, "Some found a few musical choices... irritating."
Mazhe gulped down a swig of his coffee. "Gods... I have to agree with Ron, Harry. I mean, the whole point of this tournament is to actually sing, not talk to a beat. What do they call that... rap music, was it?"
"Each their own. I both envy and applaud anyone who might dare stand in the spotlight on their own accord," Harry answered, "To stand bare without shield, permitting applause or criticism, it demands courage."
"So, uh, where you guys from anyway?" Finn asked.
"Alberta," Justin answered, "A small place called Eofrowin. My... uh, former school, we've submitted for a chance to attend the tournament both years now, no such luck though."
"You've all graduated," Rachel assumed.
"I have not quite," Harry answered in between bites, "I will finish at the end of the current year." He cast a strange look at Justin. Eoforwin... wasn't that the ancient name for Erwin?
"Which will make for two celebrations this summer," said Mazhe, "I'm hoping we can have our union before the end of Last—uh, I mean, August."
It was then Kurt noticed the ring Mazhe wore on his left ring finger.
"The pair of you are engaged?"
"Since last September," said Harry, brightly, "We grew up together... have been inseparable. The fates have seen it fit that we be joined to the end of our days. It is a trap I willingly and eagerly fall into."
"Congratulations," said Mr. Schuester.
"Thank you," said both Harry and Mazhe.
That only led to further offers of congratulations. They were both warmed by the friendly bunch, and Harry was almost tempted to invite them. He stopped short, however. It wasn't exactly the best form, considering it was more than likely the wedding would be in Skyrim.
Kurt seemed to think for a moment, before asking, "So if you're still in school, what do the rest of you do?"
"Yeah, like dudes... you all look military or something," said Puck.
"We work for Valicor," Brandon answered, "Providing security is one of our jobs. And quite honestly, we can't discuss exactly what our jobs truly entail. All of it is covered under a non-disclosure agreement."
"So please, no further questions about our jobs," said Eric, "Really. We're not allowed to talk about it."
"You make it sound like James Bond or something," said Artie.
"Guys," Mr. Schuester frowned. "It's a common business practice."
The two groups ended up spending the remainder of the morning together, much of it spent in one of the suites that had been enlarged only a short time before, thanks to a quick call to the ministry. Of course, as far as the Glee club was concerned, it was just another room in the historic building. The morning was spent between rehearsing, and goofing off. Harry and his circle were more than entertained, and it planted a small seed in the back of his mind, to perhaps do something like this again.
The club only placed fourth at the end of the day's performance, and so was eliminated from the competition. However, since their return flight wasn't until Tuesday, they attended the rest of the tournament, as had the other groups no longer participating.
At breakfast on Tuesday, the two groups bid good bye to one another, though Harry did ask Mr. Schuester for the school's mailing address. Of course, Harry could certainly obtain such information in other ways, but to just ask for it was more polite. Of course, it was only natural that Justin shared his school's 'address'—Harry made a mental note to ask about that later.
At last back in the confines of the apartment just outside the Ragged Flagon, Harry got to thinking back on the tournament. Music was a truly powerful thing. Harry had more than a few ideas of what he planned to get for his mate as a wedding present, but... what about a song? A song about the Dragonborn.
Oh, sure, there were a few out there. Visiting the various inns and taverns in the province exposed him to the few there were. No, this one would be special. A piece sung by dozens of voices... perhaps in Dovahzul... even better. Maybe Paarthurnax and Sahrotaar would be willing to help.
April 10, 2007 / 10 Rain's Hand, 4E202
Harry gave nasty smirk as he pressed the seal to the envelope. There had been no additional missives since the end of March, but he wasn't concerned. If anything, it indicated the Dark Lord was simply waiting for the second missive—the one Harry was about to send. It claimed to contain knowledge from the black books he'd discovered. In reality, the page was simply a power amplification charm. However, with a bit of spell work provided by some unspeakables, the page now oozed dark magic. The spell itself was useful—something Harry had already used on several occasions—and so it would only further mislead the Dark Lord. At least that was the plan.
The past week and a half had actually been relatively quiet as far as the campaign went, with no incidents of note. It only furthered the illusion of Harry conducting research into a valuable text... perhaps it took up all of his time. In reality, the government relaxed the effort while Harry and his circle were in San Francisco, so that they wouldn't be bothered by such things. The idea had been a chance to relax and forget about current issues.
Friday, April 13, 2007 / 13 Rain's Hand, 4E202
"Eastmarch Hold is in your debt, dragonborn," said Jorleif, as he accepted the sack from Mazhe. The bottom of it was stained in red. "For your efforts." A bag that clinked with coins was passed over.
"Ah, the Dragonborn graces our court."
Mazhe and Harry both turned to find the Jarl entering from a corridor behind them. A few others followed.
"Jarl Ulfric. Well met."
"And to you, young Harry. Come, join us for supper." He indicated the long table, where others were sitting down to eat.
"I'll call home, let the others know we'll be late," Brandon offered.
Harry inclined his head, then took a seat at the table. It was not out of the ordinary for them to be a guest of the Jarl—though it had been some time since their last visit.
As they ate, it was only natural that the conversation touched on the civil war that had thus far fallen into a stalemate.
"Have you given any further thought to joining us in the fight to free Skyrim?" Ulfric asked.
"Harry still has matters he's dealing with in his own world. Then, we will gladly join your cause. The Thalmor murdered my parents while the legion stood by and watched. So one day you will have my sword, and my support."
"As you will also have mine," said Harry, "Just allow us to take care of a pressing personal matter."
"This involves your 'Dark Lord'," Ulfric guessed.
Harry gave a slow nod, then smirked. "He has a date with the keeper of forbidden knowledge. Not that he knows that yet... He's... expected."
"Hmmm. Perhaps we should put Ambassador Elenwen on that guest list," Mazhe smirked. Harry smirked right back, while the others around the table broke out into chuckles.
"And now I remember why I like you, boy," said Galmar Stone-Fist, Ulfric's Housecarl.
"Aye, no love for those stinkin' elves," Ulfric agreed.
"Everyone has their place," said Harry, "Who are they to dictate the rights of others? We all have the right to practice our religion, to have an opinion, the right to exist. The Empire capitulated, allowing itself to be pillaged and plundered by people who believe themselves above all of us. They walk an identical path to the Dark Lord I must confront where I come from. I will always take up arms against someone who walks such a path."
"As will I," said Mazhe, "Uh, Vignar Grey-Mane said something along the line of, 'When the Empire surrendered to the Aldmeri Dominion, they shamed us all'."
"And he speaks the truth. So you know ol' Vignar then?" Galmar asked.
"We have dined at Jarl Balgruuf's pleasure on numerous occasions, sir," said Harry, "College business has had us in most of Skyrim's holds on occasion."
Just as the plates were being carried away sometime later, Brandon' mobile rang. He answered it, then left the table to speak quietly. However, the conversation proved relatively short.
"Harry, Mazhe. We have to return to Riften. There's been an incident."
"What happened?"
"Terror attack in Trevelyan, happened about an hour ago."
Harry made a sour face. "Unfortunate the plan involves—"
"Harry. It wasn't part of the operation. The death toll's reached fifty six, and that's expected to rise. Hundreds were injured... I'm just getting the update now. Gods... this is unbelievable."
"Where?"
"We'd just best get back to the apartment."
"Apologies, Jarl Ulfric. We must cut our visit short," said Harry, "Gratitude for dinner."
"Go. See to your affairs," Ulfric answered, "You are always welcome here."
"Be safe, all of you. Talos guide you," said Mazhe, as he joined Harry and Brandon. They linked arms, before Brandon activated his mobile, and they vanished.
They touched down seconds later in the entry way into the apartment.
"Mazhe. Brandon, Harry. Good you're all here," said Justin.
"What happened?"
"Massive explosion on a packed subway train at the peak of rush hour. Death toll's up to sixty-three," said Justin, as they walked into the dining room. Several computers had been set up at one end of the table, and a monitor now carried the news feed.
"We're in lock down again," Harry guessed.
"Yes. For the next twelve hours. Floo access is cut off, and they may close the portal."
Dardanos furrowed his brows. "Your government is reacting to the incident inconsistently. None of the... incidents Harry is suspected of creating have been met by such a reaction."
"Shit. He's right," Eric realized.
"Dardanos. That's not exactly true. It's just, this is... this is really bad," Justin answered.
"None of Harry's, uh, actions... have caused this sort of mayhem. It's only been a few deaths—none of them for real—and a bunch of injuries, maybe," Brandon said, glancing at one of the monitors, "No matter who the perpetrator, the government reaction would be consistent. Trust us, we know what we're doing."
"Could this be the work of the dark mage that travelled through the portal?" Mazhe questioned.
"It's strongly suspected, yes," Eric agreed.
"Was there a message found?" Harry asked.
Eric shook his head. "No. So far no message or note or anything's been found."
Mazhe scowled. "People will still think Harry did it though."
Harry blew out a breath. "For the immediate future, there is to be no operations within the Commonwealth."
Brandon made to object, but realized Harry was right. This particular incident would be front and centre in the media for the foreseeable future. To add to the chaos would serve no useful purpose... especially should this incident be only the beginning. He pulled out his mobile.
Brandon was dead right. The next two weeks proved to be a series of scenes out of a horror film for the Commonwealth. No less than five separate attacks were staged against the capital city's transit system alone, it being the largest and oldest in the country. Security had been tightened to near unbearable levels, and yet, incidents still took place.
Other incidents also unfolded involving a high-end restaurant, a shopping mall (wherein over three hundred people were seriously injured by an explosion in its food court), and an attack against the Parliament Buildings themselves. A last-minute evacuation prevented the deaths of many of its members.
The break came with that particular incident, since the Arcane Sciences department used a time-turner to watch the house chamber and discover the person responsible for planting the explosive.
April 30, 2007
The paper that morning brought black and white evidence the reign of terror had been brought to a close, as the headline shouted, TERROR RING BROKEN.
"Unfortunate that none of them were captured alive," Eric muttered, tossing the paper back on the table.
"This was too easy," said Brandon, shaking his head, "Whatever they were doing, my gut tells me we haven't seen the end of it."
"But... when does it truly end?" Mazhe asked, glancing up from a heavy tome he had open in front of him, "It's the same rot, am I right?"
"They're terrorists... bullies, 'nuff said," Tommy snorted, "We get rid of one, another comes to take their place."
"And I feel like an ass having to heap more of the same on the Commonwealth, after they just cleared this... crap," said Harry, sadly.
"We won't be doing anything further. You're still waiting for a missive back from Voldemort, right?" Brandon asked.
"That's right. Our plot is coming to fruition."
"That what your gut says?"
"I believe it so."
"We're still running a few operations in Europe, but the department's culled anything further within the Commonwealth's borders. We'll revisit that in a few weeks if Tom doesn't take the bait."
After lunch was finished, Harry Apparated to the summit of the Throat of the World, to continue his lessons with Paarthurnax and Sahrotaar. Both dragons noted his brighter mood as they greeted him.
"What sort of event has transpired that has your spirits lifted?" queried the ancient dragon.
"Hiitir lost urlan(5)," Harry answered, with a soft smile.
"Havaas zen vuun has hel tir fah hi—concerning the path destiny has set out for you?"
"Vogluuskeigaar ni(6). Though that end rapidly approaches," Harry answered. "I have told you of the terrible incidents that have been taking place in my home world... more specifically back in the Commonwealth?"
"Of course," said Sahrotaar, "These incidents have caused you much stress."
"Raal faskaar(7), yes. This morning, word was received that those responsible were located, though none were captured alive. Brandon carries opinion that we will see more of them."
"Fos dreh hi korah—And what do you believe?" asked Paarthurnax.
"That he is right."
"There will always be evil in the world, you know this, Harry."
Harry blew out a breath. He knew Paarthurnax was right, just as Tommy was. There would always be monsters, bullies, tyrants. He brightened.
"I'm in better spirits with gratitude to the news received. Now I might move forward with my studies and training with less distraction. But I might also ask for help with a side project—a special gift for Mazhe."
"Ah, yes, your impending union," Sahrotaar remembered. "Have you given thought to where you might hold it?"
"I have several locations in mind. One of my first choices, I would suggest we conduct the ceremony here. However, the climate alone quickly strikes it from my list of options. It goes without saying, that both of you are invited."
"It would be an honour," said Sahrotaar.
"I'll likely also make invitation to Arngeir and his fellow Greybeards, seeing as they had a part to play in helping Mazhe to meet his destiny." He thought for a moment. "Mazhe will receive a number of gifts from me when we are joined, however, there is something I wish to do that will be just a little extra special. I would compose a song, the words to be sung in Dovahzul. I would ask for assistance in translation."
"It may be a difficult task," said Paarthurnax, "But we will be glad to help you on your endeavour. You plan on making this a surprise?"
"Yes, absolutely. I'll Obliviate him if he finds out," Harry smirked.
"Have you began work on it?"
"I have a few things," Harry answered.
He reached into his rucksack, and pulled out his mobile. A tap of the screen converted it into a tablet, and with a few finger-gestures, he pulled up the notes he had been working on. The idea of using an electronic tablet for writing quick notes was still a novel idea, but it was growing on him.
"So I got... 'Dragonborn, by his honour is sworn. To keep evil forever at bay...'(8)"
"You should be able to translate that yourself, Harry," said Sahrotaar, "But I would repeat 'dovahkiin'. You would then have, 'Dovahkiin, dovahkiin, naal ok zin las vahriin'."
"What I wrote was... okay, but... translated, it sounds wicked."
Harry began writing out the translated phrases, with the two dragons helping with the spelling. Much like the Common language, the spellings didn't necessarily match the pronunciation.
As it neared three o'clock, Harry bid them good bye, and returned to the apartment. Glancing around to make sure Mazhe was elsewhere, he located Brandon.
"I need to visit the group we met in San Francisco."
"The glee club from Ohio," Brandon remembered.
"And Mazhe can't know."
Brandon arched an eyebrow. "Spill. What are you up to?"
Harry simply pulled out his mobile. "I'm composing something for Mazhe. It's for our union... or well, to be performed at our union."
"Oh. I gotcha. Give me a few minutes, I'll need to talk to the DOI."
Just after three o'clock Ohio time, Justin, Harry and Brandon took a port key that dropped them in a discreet location about a block away from William McKinley High School, in Lima, Ohio. It was Justin who handled the meeting when they entered the building, being no stranger to the workings of the school system.
Only minutes after, they were met by Mr. Schuester, who led them to the room where the club met. For Harry, it was somewhat of a curiosity, considering he'd never been in a non-magical school up to this point. Not even Sir Malcolm Davis Institute, for that matter. The corridors were rather bland, with lockers lining the walls, and doors leading off to various classrooms. The throng of students gave the group curious glances, and it had Harry a little on edge for a minute or so... until he realized he was being a little paranoid. They were mundane high school students.
They at last stepped into the music room, evidenced by the scattering of musical instruments that included a grand piano. A few of the club members were already present, and they all looked momentarily surprised, seeing Harry and his friends enter.
"Mr. P-p-potter, good to s-s-see you again." Tina, if Harry remembered her name correctly.
"Likewise."
"What're you doing here?" Artie—the kid who had been paralysed from the waist down in a car accident. Harry still mentally shivered at the visual.
"I need some help with a little project I'm doing. I will speak no more about it until all of your membership are present," Harry answered, "But it is good to see you all again."
As the minutes passed, more and more members arrived, all of them greeting Harry and his friends, before taking seats and talking amongst themselves. Finally, with the arrival of Matt, Mr. Schuester at last began the meeting.
"As you've noticed, we do have a few guests with us. I'll let Harry take it from here."
"Gratitude. At conclusion of the tournament over a fortnight ago, a thought came to me, as I laid out plans for my upcoming union. A song that will be performed immediately following the ceremony—"
"You want us to sing at your wedding?" Quinn asked. She had gotten slightly larger since last time he'd seen her—her due date must be close, he guessed.
"Uh, not exactly. I would request assistance with its composition."
"But, uh, Mr. Potter, we're only high school students," said Finn.
"I know of no one else," Harry answered, "All of you are talented individuals, and though we have only met briefly, it is that fact alone that would have me approach you first."
"What about the club at your own school?" Jesse asked, confused. "You travel all this way just to ask for our help?"
"I have never met them. It does come across as being rather unusual, but the simple matter at hand, is trust. I have never had occasion to see them perform. You lot, I have seen not only live, but in rehearsal. You work well together. Those factors all meet to help me form decision," Harry explained.
"But w-w-wait. R-r-remember last t-t-time we worked f-f-for someone?"
"Tina's right," said Artie, "Last time Mr. Schue had to step down as club director because we got paid for that mattress commercial."
"You will not receive compensation monetarily. Instead, I would have all of you help present the composition. At present, we have not made final decision on where our union will be held, but know that no matter where it takes place, arrangements will be made so that you may attend."
Harry could read Kurt's thoughts even without glancing at them. Meanwhile, Brandon looked like he wanted to bang his head on the wall. Oops. But, that's what happens when Harry just 'wings it', right?
"I think we should do it," said Kurt, simply.
"What about our parents?" Mercedes asked.
"We'll handle the logistics. It goes without saying, there will be a good many adult chaperones present," said Justin.
"Mr. Schuester?" Rachel asked, simply.
"It's up to you guys. If you want to do it, it's your call. Just remember we do have Regionals coming up."
"We won't intrude much at first, since I am well aware you have other commitments until the latter part of Mid—the latter part of June," Harry answered, "Quite honestly, I require the most help with putting words to melody."
When they returned to the apartment a couple of hours later, Brandon wasn't impressed.
"Harry... Jesus Christ you can cause nightmares at times."
"What?"
"What if you guys host your wedding here in Skyrim?" Justin pointed out. "Never mind that. Think of your rapidly-expanding guest list."
"Oh."
"Really. Be careful, or at least run things by us first, when it involves the non-magical world."
"I can just—"
"No, it's fine, at least in this incidence. But realize, we can't always bend the rules," Brandon answered, though he still frowned.
Harry blew out a breath, realizing they were right. Indeed, it would mean exposing a group of people to the magical world, and in this case, it wouldn't be by accident.
"Krosis—apologies. Words spilled from my tongue without thought."
"Just... don't worry about it. I guess we shouldn't get too twisted, it seems like you're making another fine group of friends," said Justin, "Normal friends. Them learning about our world is an inevitable outcome."
During lunch the following day, Harry was startled as an owl delivered a small package to him. The letter was non-magical, and he frowned, furrowing his brows at the absence of a return address. He gestured with a finger, casting several detection spells that all came up negative. It was non-magical in nature, then.
"From your new friends, perhaps?" Dardanos guessed.
"No. I don't believe it to be so. A return address would have been placed on the package," Harry answered, as he used a knife to cut the tape securing the flap closed.
BANG. The explosion was rather small, but enough to topple Harry's chair over, sending him crashing to the floor. A cloud of blue mist had erupted from the package.
Brandon exploded into action, rapidly spelling a bubble-charm on his face. "EVERYONE OUT! NOW!"
"Why?"
"Get out! NOW! Regroup in the Flagon for now!"
"Come on you lot," Eric pressed.
"Harry, okay?" Mazhe asked, helping his mate to his feet.
"Yeah, sure. C'mon, let's go."
The large group sped from the apartment, Tommy herding his two nieces along as they made for the comforts of the tavern.
"What's going on?" Dierge asked, seeing the group appear as one.
"We don't know. Brandon just kicked us all out," said Harry.
"You hurt anywhere?" Mazhe asked.
"N-no. Just a little startled, that's about it," Harry answered, pulling up a seat at the table.
No sooner had he done so, however, when Eric's mobile buzzed, indicating a message. He scanned it quickly, then put it away.
"Brandon's ordering the cistern evacuated immediately. Both the Flagon and the inner cistern."
"Do it," said Mazhe. "Actually, uh, first plan is, where we going?"
"Goldenglow," Harry decided, "And then we will expect an explanation of what's going on."
"Let's just get out of here first," said Mazhe, already making a track for the doorway leading into the inner cistern.
"Everyone to me," Harry called, as they entered.
"We have an emergency," Eric continued, "We have to evacuate the entire cistern."
"What sort of emergency?" Brynjolf questioned, as they met in the middle of the room.
"Just gather around, I'll explain when we land at Goldenglow Estate."
With more than one mobile, everyone was carried off to the estate within seconds. The mercenaries were momentarily startled at the sudden arrival, but relented, recognizing the guild membership. The sudden brightness of mid day had everyone squinting for a minute or so, before Brynjolf again questioned, "All right, Mr. Gomrass, explain."
"Harry received a small package through the post a few minutes ago. Opening it caused a small explosion which released a small cloud of blue vapour."
"Never mind knocking me on my arse," Harry muttered.
"Brandon immediately sent us out of the flat, since the mist could have been anything. It turns out, the mist contained a deadly virus that would have caused terrible mutations and eventual death to anyone who became infected by it."
"A virus?" Rune looked confused.
"Have you ever been ill from something... uh, feeling unwell?" Eric questioned.
"Oh. Well, sure."
"When you're feeling like that, it's likely the result of a virus. A microscopic organism that invades our bodies. When we're unwell, it's because our bodies are fighting the invader.
"Except in this case, the Tyrant Virus, or T-virus, for short, causes terrible mutations in people and things that become infected with it."
"Gods. I..." Harry felt weak, realizing how close to disaster he'd come.
"I don't mean to scare people, but... the apartment's off limits for the next while. The Ministry of Health and the Ministry of Science and Technology will be going over the place with a fine-toothed-comb to make sure the virus is eradicated."
"What's Brandon doing?" Harry asked.
"Talking to his counterparts in a non-magical organization about it. The Department of Information's also on it—it's a big deal, guys."
"Brandon's initial reaction would lead us to that conclusion," said Crixus, furrowing his brows.
"This idea of... viruses... is still confusing," said Dardanos.
"Just... realize, this kind of virus, it was made as a weapon of war."
"Why haven't we heard about it?" Mazhe asked, "I mean, I'm in around you guys enough to see the papers and stuff like that."
"Why do you think?"
Mazhe furrowed his brows, thinking a moment. "Oh. Of course."
"Exactly. Word of such terrible things would never reach the papers, no matter how much someone would try and do so. Harry, you remember a few years ago, getting that letter from Gringotts?"
"You weren't around then," Mazhe protested.
"I wasn't. Doesn't mean I don't know about them."
Harry frowned. Of course, they would know about his business, whether he wanted them to or not. He let the matter be, though, knowing they only took an interest in order to keep him safe.
"The letter informing me of the sale of all Umbrella shares."
"Umbrella Corporation created the Tyrant Virus. It's one of the reasons the company went tits up. The U.S. government didn't like the idea they were making biological weapons."
"This... virus. Can it be cured?" Delvin questioned.
"Uh... I don't know," Eric asked, "Brandon would likely know. That mundane organization he belongs to, they deal with situations like this. Bio-terrorism Security Assessment Alliance(9), or the BSAA for short. You'll have to ask Brandon for more info about it, I'm just as much in the dark about it as you are."
"But... why now? Why's this happening to him now?" questioned Tommy, momentarily glancing down at his two nieces, who were clinging to his legs. "J—for Christ's sake, they could've infected my nieces."
"I would suspect the source of this attack lies at the feet of those responsible for the attacks staged over the past fortnight within the Commonwealth's borders," said Dardanos.
"And I would agree. Though this time, the attack was against us directly," said Harry.
Eric's mobile buzzed again. He opened it, and glanced at the message, before putting it away.
"Confirmed to be the T-Virus. Looks like we'll be needing alternate accommodation for the next while."
"Aringoth will provide shelter for us," said Brynjolf.
"Right. That part is settled. Rest of us, we'll retreat back to the College."
"A sound option. We can take the opportunity to break words with Tolfdir. Much time has passed," said Harry.
"Too much time," Mazhe agreed.
It was May 4 before they were allowed back into the flat, and even then, officials from at least three different branches of the government were present. For the first time since the apartment had been built, Harry felt truly uncomfortable being in its surroundings.
"The mail ward's been reapplied here," said Brandon, grimly, "Everything's gonna be checked by the Department of Information before being delivered. Gods above, can't believe this happened."
"But it did," said Harry, with a scowl. "Since this... virus... was sent to my person, we have a right to know exactly what it is."
"Though a few fellow members in the organization I'm connected with would disagree with me disclosing anything, it's only fair you know, since we can't promise you won't be targeted again. You're somewhat aware of Umbrella Corporation."
"My family had a large number of shares in the company. Gringotts sold them off just before the company collapsed."
"Because the government pulled their trading license. They were making biological weapons and selling them on the black market, in simple terms. Particularly, the virus we were nearly exposed to, is called the Tyrant Virus, or T-Virus for short. Uh... some of the images I'm about to show are quite graphic."
"Dobby." Harry called.
Pop. "Harry Potter call for Dobby?"
"I would have you see mistress Erica and her sister into the playroom."
The two girls simply giggled as Dobby led them out of the room. It wouldn't be the first time the elf was tasked with taking care of Tommy's nieces.
Brandon flicked his wand at the pensieve resting at the centre of the dining room table, causing a holographic scene to begin playing. And graphic, he wasn't kidding. The scenes were all relatively short, showing Brandon and a few others dealing with creatures that were better termed zombies. The monsters were mindless, and if not for the blood, Harry could have mistaken them for Draugr.
Perhaps even more frightening, was a scene which depicted a massive... well... plant, if it could be called that, with massive tentacles.
"Yes, the virus can also infect plant life, as this scene demonstrates."
The scenes continued for several more minutes, before they finally ended.
"Gods above," said Mazhe, uncomfortably, "And I thought the Draugr were bad."
"Agreed," said Miraak, "Why would they create such abominations?"
"It's all about warfare," said Brandon.
"And coin," said Harry, "Coin more than anything else."
"And war means lots of coin," said Justin, "There are many who will do just about anything to obtain more of it." He gave Mazhe a pointed look.
"Gods... perhaps there are many things I will do to earn a few septims, but this... what we just saw... such things... they are crimes against nature. Truly depraved, actions that are no better than those of Alduin."
Harry scowled. "Should I discover the identity of the ones responsible for sending that wonderful mal nutiid—little present, I shall be presenting them one of my own. They wish to unleash abominations on innocent people? Perhaps, they should be introduced to the abominations that live in Apocrypha."
"Harry..."
"Dii mahnd los hren—my decision is made."
May 8, 2007 / 8 Second Seed, 4E202
The owl arrived even before breakfast was set out. The tell-tale stamp on the envelope told Harry the Ministry had already checked it, and an additional stamp warned that the letter inside contained a port key. Since it was being delivered intact, the government deemed it safe—though in this case, it was an exception.
Harry,
The time is come for you and I to meet face to face, and discuss long-term objectives. Find a port key enclosed with this letter, which will be activated by the pass phrase, "Future through Purity". You will come alone. Doing otherwise, or sending others in your place will have fatal consequences.
- Tom
As he finished reading, the tail feather from a crow fell out of the envelope and dropped to the table.
"Well?" Brandon prompted.
"This is it. He sends a port key that will carry me to his location."
"Then let's—" Justin began, but Harry held up a hand.
"I must initially go alone. Brandon, Eric, have the rest of your team at the ready for my call. The same goes for the rest of you. The trap must be swung closed before we proceed."
"Careful, Harry, he'll likely have most of his followers present," Justin warned.
"I'm counting on it. I'll summon all of you while Hermaeus Mora is speaking to Tom."
"You know I don't like this," said Mazhe.
"I know. Just... trust me. The knowledge that you all stand at the ready to provide assistance, it helps me to stay the course and do what I must. Wish me luck."
The pair embraced tightly, with Mazhe planting a kiss on his mate's forehead.
"Go then. Walk the last mile of the path the gods set you on."
Each of the circle embraced him also, all carrying words of encouragement, further strengthening his resolve. This was it.
"May Talos protect you, Harry," Mazhe said.
Harry retrieved the black book from his satchel and activated the trap, then gripped the feather, whispering, "Future through purity". He felt the familiar hook about the naval, as the port key activated.
He landed roughly, and before he could get his bearings, he was slammed up against a wall by a powerful banishing charm.
"Ah, Harry. Good of you to make it," said Voldemort, with fake pleasantry. The book had fallen to the floor a number of feet away, and as Harry tried to shake out the cobwebs, Voldemort continued, "You are a fool, Harry Potter. To allow yourself to be brought into the very seat of my power, where I am surrounded by my supporters. You trust too easily. A fatal mistake."
"I guess I should have expected that," Harry muttered, still trying to regain his bearings. He tried to crawl over to the book, but Voldemort simply summoned it with a wave of his hand.
"So, you do bring a gift."
"I do as promised," Harry managed, making sure his mental shields were still in place. Everything was sound, thanks to the years of training. Healer Ferris had conducted harsh drills while Brandon and Eric pounded him with spells... now it was all paying off.
"Harry, Harry, Harry. Do you not see? No matter what you may have done, our paths are still very different. Your actions are driven by anger and fury, while mine, only work to restore balance to the Wizarding world. Regretfully, none of those plans can ever involve you."
"But..."
"But, what, Harry? I do thank you for the gift. I plan on studying its contents... only after I do away with you. Good bye, Harry Potter."
Harry knew what was coming, but was still somewhat scattered, and was slow to react to the Dark Lord's hissed, "Avada Kedavra."
Brilliant emerald green ballooned into his vision, then, darkness.
UP NEXT: Fallout from the meeting, wherein Voldemort has a date with the Daedric Prince of forbidden knowledge, and not all escape the ensuing chaos unscathed;
(1) William Fox, b. Jan 1, 1879, d. May 8, 1952, was a pioneering film producer. He founded the Fox Film Corporation in 1915, and was also responsible for the building of the Fox Theatres, including the one in San Francisco. Twentieth Century Fox, and Twenty-first Century Fox are two of several media corporations which continue to carry his name.
(2) The infamous "Run, Joey, Run" video Rachel creates with Finn, Puck, and Jesse in 1x17.
(3) Remember, Harry's spent a year in 73BCE Capua. That's not even counting the use of another special object on his person.
(4) "We'll Meet Again" was a massive hit for Vera Lynn in 1939, and also, of course, a beacon of hope for anyone seeing a loved one boarding a ship for the war front.
(5) "hiitir lost urlan" - [a] matter was resolved.
(6) "vogluuskeigaar ni" - unfortunately not.
(7) "raal faskaar" - put softly. Harry means, 'put mildly'.
(8) "Song of the Dragonborn", Common language translation.
(9) I hope you were all paying attention back in Harry's second year. Of course, this is the realm of "Resident Evil". Expect further incidents upcoming, though it's unlikely they'll dominate the plot.
As to the terrorist cell, this attack was actually rather mild, compared to a few incidents that I'm cooking up. The end of Voldemort, most definitely does not mean the end of the story, as you'll all very quickly see, though not in this story.