Disclaimer: I'm not here right now. Please leave a disclaimer after the beep...beeeeep!
XXX
On a Saturday that the gods forgot, something not seen for a long time was born. A human, consumed by the abyss of righteous fury, sacrificed her humanity and gained power. It might be said that what she gained was far more helpful to her than anything the world could offer her. For even as the trappings of hairless apes were torn asunder, the vestiges of insanity were washed away. The result, was not human. But all the same, where there is birth, there is also death. In other words, a very dramatic way of saying that Hermione Granger was having a bad day.
"Tiggy? Is that you? What happened? Where are you? Who turned down the lights?"
Hermione stumbled. The formerly shocked elf quickly regained her senses and got her mistress to lie down. With tear filled eyes, she could not even think clearly. Something had happened and she was powerless. She had been unable to help her mistress at all. Only the command that she never punish herself without permission stopped her from destroying the surrounding junk on an elf cranium(which is very sturdy to keep the elf alive after all those punishments.
"Mistress! (sob) Bad Tiggy! Bad!"
She wailed in her misery, wishing for a way to atone. Her mistress looked slightly pale, and her warmth slowly ebbed away into the cold stone floors of the Come and Go room. But that wasn't it. Her mistress would not even die human. The magic of the mistress, the human magic was gone, but Hermione herself remained, a strand of hope for the unfortunate elf. Unbidden, memories arose, the memory of her mother telling her about the bond and the consequences of "freedom"...
And as if waiting for that thought to manifest, the bond was gone. Hermione was dead. The poor elf was hysterical. She could already feel the magical madness that was creeping in her mind, the punishment of all "free" elves, the final "reward" for daring to be free. She knew was not strong enough to resist it. Nobody was.
Of course, that particularly depressing and possibly suicidal line of thought was promptly ended when a magic circle appeared in the midst of the junk in the room and a white ring rose up above it, vanishing at a certain height like a shower of petals. What appeared was a formless "ghost". The glowing-shadow effect was highly irregular, not to mention the feel of all invasive power. Tiggy had all of two seconds to take in the scene before her primitive senses overloaded with awesome power and she blacked out.
The being that appeared was a peculiar one. It did not have a name for beings similar to it. In fact, since it was an actual shape shifter, this type of creature was never identified as a separate species.
If it had to be named though, the creature would have called itself a chaos creature. Not because of its actions or desires, but because the magical aura it produced could after a certain "age" be used to consciously defy and rewrite the laws of space and time and all the other laws that have and have not been discovered. Something that has the surprising ability to wreck the threads of fate and destiny. A god like being, if it was motivated. Immortality tends to make lazy creatures though. They were after all a remnant of the psychic imprint of the soup from which the universe was born. A being that existed from before the universe's creation and bound by none of its rules.
The few times such creatures had shown themselves to humanity, they were called demons and attacked. Since killing off idiots such as them was too much of a hassle compared to going home, they remained alive to spread the increasingly exaggerated tales of demons and otherworldly creatures. Who knew horns, tails, wings and claws were so problematic when dealing with these mortals? Didn't similar creatures exist just the while ago? Honestly! (A/N: dinosaurs in case you were wondering)
This particular creature had appeared with a purpose. One of its "seed" artifacts had been activated. Considering that the number of "pure" (by the creatures own definition of course. Mortal languages are woefully inadequate and do not make very good mediums for conveying multifaceted concepts) souls that could conceivably do that were one every couple of generations (that is, after factoring the probabilities of anyone finding these things) it was a rare event.
A millennium and a half ago, a "seed" artifact had been triggered in plain sight and it "keeper" had triggered the "ascension" of one previously mortal female human before whisking her away, in plain sight of a bunch of humans chasing said individual for imagined witchcraft. And lo, humanity was never the same again. The effects of those 87 seconds on human history and mythology will never be accounted for.
This particular creature, who for reference's sake shall be named Joe, was quite surprised when it felt the birth of a new chaos creature. Considering that this particular species do not, as a rule gain new members every other day, it was...unusual. They did die of sheer boredom sometimes though...hence the need for new blood.
At any rate, it had a job to do so Joe raised a ghostly hand and pointed it at the girl. She was still partly corporeal and would remain in that form for a thousand years or so before she truly left this world for "home". Something every single chaos creature lived through. To help keep their sometimes odd and sudden transformations in perspective, a full fledged member of their race supplied the 'newborns' with seed knowledge, a repository of information, select memories and a smidgen of personality all on a sort of timed release and even then mostly subconscious. You can't have immortality and sanity without some personality quirks...and having a quirk such as "destroy random planets and stars every (289 human years) " had been enough for once. Guiding a newborn to a relatively harmless hobby was quite necessary. Looking around, Joe contemplated the revolver before making a decision.
Being a being of chaos, Joe felt that at least one more random act of chaos just had to be perpetrated before returning. And spotting the poor unconscious elf gave the otherworldly creatures...ideas.
A few minutes of reality bending action later, the entity disappeared, never to be seen on this plane of existence again. As in the entropic-end-of-the-universe never. For all purposes, "the deed" was done.
XXX
Hermione woke up to the most pounding headache that she could ever remember having. The phrase "Oh my [censored] head" was uttered a few times. The cause of the headache was that being a radically new species had given her senses far beyond human comprehension. Considering she was no longer human, it wouldn't be a problem for long.
Sight, sound, smell and touch were the identifiable senses were enhanced. With a time delay on the instinct information 'package', it would be a while before she could catalog them all. For the time being, with control over her new god like abilities (eventually) being non existent, she was just a really enhanced human, one that didn't even know that it was immortal. Hermione Jane Granger was, for all purposes an infant, albeit destined not to remain one for long. She didn't even have her basic motor control down. All so...random.
She had woken up holding a weapon, a Colt .45 Single Action Army, known to some as The Peacemaker. No markings of identification, except for an embossed skull motif on its polished wooden handle. Chrome death, at its finest. Of course, being a magical artifact handled by a chaos creature had left its mark, turning what was once a mediocre corroded piece of junk into a magical transformation artifact. It had all sorts of mentally controlled shooting options, keyed to Hermione, as long as it came out as projectile (.45 of course). Not that she knew it of course, that revelation would come the next day, after this days revelations and mental shock was dealt with. And exploring options was always a good idea.
In any case, she absently put it away in an inter dimensional pocket space with no idea that she'd done anything.
The main course of the days shocks was the fact that her new friend was looking like a stereotypical demon, with fangs, claws wings, tail and of course otherwise flawless human features. Oh yes, Tiggy was now the perfect visual analogue of a naked and anatomically correct Hermione faced succubus. Whatever had been done to her, was permanent and beautiful. That she was as tall as the real Hermione was something else to think on.
It looked like she was not going anywhere any time soon. So she sat down in a lotus position and tried to make sense of everything with classic breath control exercises. It was the proper thing to do really.
XXX
In another part of the castle, the dark and gloomy dungeons, Draco Malfoy was plotting, the demise of his nemesis, the Japanese kid. Not that he was very successful at it of course. Contrary to popular belief, the Malfoys were not trained in dark arts, torture and murder from infancy. Raising kids with an absolute lack of morality or ethics lead to patricide, matricide and fratricide.
Malfoy indoctrination was based on emphasizing the lesser status and worth of non purebloods. Dehumanizing them, making them animals. Getting rid of said animal came much much later. Politics were much more important. Getting that higher position in Slytherin, making contacts with dark and neutral families, developing an "image". Seeing that eleven year olds tend to screw even these things up, training them in the art of getting rid of the above mentioned 'animals' would end up in catastrophe.
As a result of all of this, Draco was useless. He had a lot of goals but no means to achieve them. His all ambitious goal of killing someone was doomed to failure mostly because he didn't have it in him, to borrow the phrase. And Draco unfortunately had enough logic to admit it himself. However pride demanded that he do something against this alien who was doing Merlin knew what in the castle.
For a surprisingly ill planned 'get him' operation, Draco had collected a lot of information. He knew, for example, that Tetsuya frequently visited the forbidden forest, that he had some dealings with Snape, that whatever he was doing was not something even his father knew the full extent of, if the great man knew at all. Sadly, the vaunted information hoarding of Slytherin was useless against the career assassin that he wanted to hurt. How do you trap an expert escape artist? How do you hit somebody who can move faster than a wand can be turned? How do you overcome the sheer skill of somebody who can bat an Avada Kedavra away with a mere sword? Ninja were impossibly annoying creatures, which explained why his father employed them. More thinking was required.
In the forbidden forest, a troll was being led towards a castle in magical chains, walking ever slowly for its next command. This particular specimen was a partially trained security troll, imported from the mainland for just the purpose. It was a distraction, a mere side story in the exploits of Lord Voldemort, currently soul parasite. His attempt to steal the philosophers stone would materialize on Halloween, the day he was cast out from mortal shell, but also the day he would return to it. This was but one step in his plans and he had more in the wings in case this latest attempt did not prove fruitful. In the castle, the form of Quirinus Quirrel occasionally checked a small trinket in his office, emulating his passengers wretched enemy, counting down the distance for the big ungainly bipedal magical tank to reach within "sneak in" distance of Hogwarts. "Soon..." was a frequently mumbled phrase in the otherwise quiet office.
XXX
The week before Halloween saw a marked rise in tensions throughout the castle. It wasn't visible, or easily detected, but it was there. Dumbledore, worried about Moody's warning, was in a less positive mood than before. He even failed to offer his lemon drops to the visitors of his office. This was not unremarked upon by the professors and soon practically everyone knew that the eccentric headmaster was in some crisis. The occasional sight of Dumbledore staring blankly as he contemplated Merlin knew what only served to exaggerate the already wild rumors flying about. Whispers of illegitimate children, ex-lovers, financial problems (to use the 'mild' term), failing health, blackmailing, etc were rampant.
Wild and humorous rumors did nothing to curb the sense of impending doom. Magically speaking, the highly strung students were emitting stress, frustration, and other negative emotions with each spell they cast, binding the wards with this new influx of chaotic emotions, which in turn led to the very building feeling like a heavy blanket of negativity. This atmosphere reduced the more positive students to misery as well. Magic, being the emotion and will dependent force of nature it was had successfully set up a self sustaining loop of despair.
It should be noted though, that the headmaster wasn't the actual cause of the sudden emotional fog in the castle. For years and years, the Dark Lord had been in the habit of timing his important raids or "statements" to the greater world on October 31. consequently an entire generation of ordinary people had learned to grow up in fear of the day that He-who must-not-be-named would strike at their homes and families, doing worse than simply kill them cleanly with an Avada Kedavra. Even ten years after the fact, even the children of those loyal to the cause were in dread of that day when the Dark Lord attended to his victims personally.
This was nothing to say of the unusual magical occurrences that happened occasionally. This day was a very important ritual day, partly because of some long winded magical theory that basically said that there was more magic present in well, everything. Most magical creature sightings by muggles occurred on this day than any other. Made obliviators positively groan, even in peacetime.
It was also the ten year anniversary of the day that Harry Potter had ended the reign of terror of the one they refused to name. All this meant that the current generation of magically born children sitting in Hogwarts had been subconsciously trained to both fear and venerate that date, October 31st, all hallows eve. The muggleborn picked up and emulated the behavior of the others.
Among the people to be immune to this were Dumbledore (who had a lot more to worry about than the antics of a childish dark wizard), Harry (who was used to being at the receiving end of massed amounts of negativity), Hermione (whose current being was immune to mental attacks) and Snape (who was in the midst of his latest mid-life crisis, this time with an actual Potter to blame it on). The adults had been alive when Voldemort was actually alive, so they were quite capable of operating normally. But the children were another story.
Of course, after a time, the wards themselves would plunge the castle clean of such emotions, but these rarely used wards would take a while to register a problem and then, actually go about setting up the magical equivalent of emptying emotions.
XXX
In the midst of all this, Hermione wandered the halls in a manner that was at the extreme end of carefree. Her new powers meant that she was extremely unbound by rules of any kind, but her mind still retained enough of her old self to be totally random. Thus her current existence was in a way more normal than either the old Hermione or the average example of her race. She was still in the midst of her minor plans of revenge and the like, but discovering herself was far more of a priority for now. As a result, Ron Weasley was subject only to shrinking underwear and itching whenever he tried to open his mouth at her. Others heard a constant buzzing or found themselves waking up in a bed of slugs.
The first year Gryffindors were plagued by these annoying pranks and the only two spared were quickly cleared of charges. Both had alibis and were deemed to not have sufficient knowledge to pull it off. As Snape said, how could a bumbling know it all like Granger or a clumsy nincompoop like Longbottom ever achieve the summed up nuisance value previously demonstrated by the first year Marauders?
A magically supercharged house elf that now resembled a chibi succubus was not even close to the ones actually accused of course. Hermione was officially in love with the idea of minions. That the Weasley twins were blamed was just another laugh out of the whole event.
Hermione however was concerned that there were mysterious people roaming about the hallways, on the ceilings no less!
They seemed to not even be real people, just shells of air, that moved with intelligence. She did not know where they came from, or what they actually looked like, but they did disappear into nothingness after a while. Hermione, tended to dismiss them after the first day of seeing them. They seemed to be like those flying skeletal horses that only she and Tiggy could see. Nobody else paid attention to them and nothing happened. It was all so...boring. And then, like the wind that lifts the all concealing fog, Halloween was upon them all.
The morning was quite normal. Everyone woke up, and did the stuff they usually did. Compared to the tension that was present all week, it was almost a relief when nothing happened. No news of You-know-who resurrecting from the dead. No Death Eater attacks in remembrance of the the last war. No invasion from near mythical eastern states... well, the last one was more Dumbledore's worry.
Of course, the usual plotting, planning and maneuvering occurred.
XXX
Classes were normal. There was so much relief at the lack of unusual happenings that the teachers forgot to give out homework (except Snape, but that was to be expected). And the students forgot to rejoice at their supposed good fortune.
By afternoon, there was a visible relaxation in all the students.
Ron Weasley tried to goad Hermione into doing anything except smile creepily at him. It was all for naught and the poor sap was nearly reduced to a pool of his own excrement when he saw those eyes turn to look straight through him. He didn't know what happened, but clearly the poor girl had snapped. Ever since the previous week, she had kept up this disturbing little grin on her face. It promised pain misery ad death, all just for him. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what he'd done to her.
By dinner time, the whole school had collectively decided that no weirdness was going to occur and that this was one Halloween destined to be uneventful. However, it was just as the food was about to reach the mouths of the hungry that the unimaginable happened. Professor Quirrel, the professor of defense against vampires(his class curriculum was slow and narrowly focused), came running in and shouted out that a troll was loose in the dungeon. And in a rather theatrical (for those who paid attention that is) manner, he fainted, lying spread eagled on the floor.
Dumbledore noted that Quirrel wasn't unconscious, but still, running all the way from the dungeons must have been a very tiring thing. The resident ninja already knew something was funny about the man and chose to simply ignore him.
Hermione on the other hand now found herself intrigued by the weird sensations the turban wearer was inducing. The sight of a dark wispy aura rising from the back of his head was quite the sight. Maybe she ought to see about this troll that was in the castle...
Harry was already on his way. A clone had reported (read popped) the troll clearly a long away from its last reported position, the second floor was not next to the dungeons after all. So he had the idea to investigate the beast and see exactly what was going to happen. A switch with a clone and instant freedom.
In the meantime, Dumbledore announced that the students were to return to the dorms. Which should have raised alarm bells when at least somebody realized that the Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons. So it was in true ode to Murphy fashion that the house of the cunning and frighteningly intelligent walked obediently towards the same spot where the troll was last spotted. Later, it was convenient to blame it all on the fact that it was Halloween. There was an actual possibility that this was the case after all.
XXX
The troll was meandering through hallways in a right grumpy manner. It wasn't full trained and consequently was not aware that real security trolls were silent and vigilant pillars, ever ready to defend their charge, usually a gate or door of a fashion. So this one was convinced that it was supposed to patrol the corridors and smash whatever intruders it could find. If one consider that the definition of intruders meant "Not Quirrel", one can definitely find logic in its subsequent actions.
The first 'something' the troll found was in a bathroom. It went in to see if there was anybody to brain with its club and found itself facing the resident ghost, a certain Moaning Myrtle. Finding an intruder to smash and not capable of distinguishing between the living and dead, the beast raised its club and began to slaughter the innocent stalls and toilets that the ghost kept trying to hide in. Both were quite hysterical, one in irrational fright (she was a ghost for Merlin's sake) and the other in rage (whack a mole without getting a single mole is quite frustrating) and there seemed to be no end to the hideousness in sight. A house elf that came to repair damage quickly left before it could get caught by the club or flying debris, unnoticed by all.
This was the sight that Harry and a platoon of clones were watching, albeit reluctantly. They really wanted to go down and cut the thing to pieces. The decision was taken out of their hands when a girl walked in rather calmly, looking at the incredibly disgusting wreckage. Magical or not, it was a toilet after all...
Hermione was quite intrigued when she saw the sight of a real live troll demolishing toilets in a haphazard and inefficient manner. She paused at the doorway long enough to catch sight of a bunch of the upside down invisible people looking at the carnage and twitching. What was interesting was that one of them was actually real for once. She couldn't see through the mask, but she was sure that this was an unusual person. In any case, she would have plenty of time to check up on her target later.
She walked a few steps forward and checked out the troll once more. The creature, which was mildly rational at the best of times was now emitting blood lust in visible waves. There was no hope of restraining the beast in any amount of time with what magic she knew. So she took out her Colt (from somewhere she didn't pay attention to) and pointed it straight at the troll. Something had told her to take it and she did. She didn't notice that she had literally pulled the weapon from thin air or that her stance was perfect for a shot at this low range.
Harry however did. He also noticed that she was literally glowing, if a bit erratically. It was when her hair slowly started floating up that she made her move. A single squeeze and a fraction of a second later, the trolls head was crimson vapor.
Hermione was quite surprised when she noted that her observer had not even twitched at the sight of magical attack resistant magical creature being taken down in one shot by what was ostensibly a muggle weapon. She was even more surprised when she noticed that she had barely felt the recoil, or that she was quite unconcerned about the first kill she had made. There was no shock, or even a pause. She felt like life and death were merely meaningless words now.
She was internally startled when a rough whispering voice broke her thoughts.
"Is that a gun? A revolver?"
She smiled at the masked fellow who was looking at her as if she was a new species of purple panda. How interesting!
She nodded at the boy, pleased to see that this was one person who had no problems with vaporized creature craniums.
"Of course it is! I- Oh dear..."
She stopped, cocked her head and began to calmly walk away.
Almost the moment after she paused in her speech, Harry got a clone memory that told him to expect company and also began to leave. He knew he had seen that girl somewhere before but couldn't place it. What he did know that he would have remembered if her chakra was this...off.
XXX
A minute later, a few professors wandered into a rarely used girls bathroom to find the most disturbing sight they had ever seen. Moaning Myrtle, having registered that her bathroom was unoccupied, had finally come out and was trying to "eat" the rapidly cooling body of a full grown but headless mountain troll. The sight of a (silvery and translucent) student, in a Hogwarts uniform, trying to suck the blood of a dead troll for the purpose of curiosity is a little nauseating. If anybody remembered that for a ghost, this was par for the course, they did not speak up.
"What in Merlin's name happened here!"
McGonogall was almost shouting. This did startle the dead girl and send her wailing off into the walls. The damage looked like it came more from a rampaging giant than a less dangerous troll. The room was practically ruined. Sure, magic and house elves could fix almost anything, but this kind of large scale destruction would be a bit of an annoyance. God knew what Filch was going to say about all this.
Dumbledore was the first to awake from his stupor.
"If there is nothing else, please return to the dorms and check on the children. We must inform them the danger has passed and that there is no need for panic."
The voice was calm, assured and melted their agitation like a snow man in a noon desert. It was also a sign that the defeater of dark lord was back in control, as opposed to 'I'm soooooo close to drowning myself in firewhiskey' and he would take care of this mess, somehow.
As the assortment of professors, namely the heads of house and Quirrel left, Snape remained behind as Dumbledore had subtly gestured him to. The two walked around the body until they were looking at the remains of a trolls head. The blood was everywhere, coloring the water that was 3 inches thick on the floor to a pale yellow.
"What do you think Severus? I cannot recognize the spell that has been used. Indeed, I cannot tell that a spell has been used at all. This is quite disturbing."
Snape took a moment to center himself and think. Quirrel actually had an alibi for this incident. Trying to steal a priceless magical artifact is an exceedingly solid proof of absence for this crime. And he himself was the one to get mauled for it. Blasted three headed mutts...
His other suspicion was not one that anybody would even blink at. Harry Potter had power, and cauldrons of it. The sheer impending feeling of doom that single eleven year old put out was such that he did not dare use legilimency on him. Of course, the reason he had not used it for the entire time period of it was for a whole platter of reasons. On one hand, he refused to believe that the boy was anything but the spoiled prince he always claimed the boy to be, and refused to check, even if just for himself if that accusation could be false.
At the same time, the boy was so different from the James Potter clone he so dearly wished to put down that he didn't even think about legilimency. Without the Gryffindor red to focus his dark side, he was inevitably drawn to the fact that he had her eyes, or that he was a Ravenclaw, just like she was at heart. The quiet thoughtful manner, and the occasional insane looking grin was actually closer to his Lily than any other memory he could scrounge up. And then, when the two were alone, he was thoroughly cured of any delusion that the Potter boy was anything like his parents. There was no hated James, no Beloved Lily. There was only the monster of raw terrifying power. And the worst part was Potter did not know he had slipped, as if he had so much that a slip was not noticeable. It was more frightening than any tome of necromancy he had come within touching distance of.
But he couldn't blame Potter either. He had personally seen the boy being led off by his prefect, looking bored at the general chaos. Oh how he longed to be in some remote corner of the world somewhere, away from all this cardiac arrest inducing madness...
"I cannot say for sure. There are of course several spells that can produce this kind of damage. But none of them would be this effective without affecting the rest of the creature as well. The weaker curses, used on humans cannot be this effective on a troll either. The lack of a magical signature is troubling. Only the dark arts are this efficient, and for someone to have created such a spell that cannot be detected is worrisome."
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.
"Indeed. To take down a troll, with possibly one hit... is... worrisome. (sigh) I will arrange for this room to be cleaned up and repaired. Take care Severus, and be on guard."
Snape noticed that the headmaster looked even more weary. Mumbles of firewhiskey did not calm him at all. Was the dark lord truly returned?
Neither of them noticed a perfect little hole that had been drilled into the far wall at about 12 feet high. An elf would later fill in the hole magically without worrying about it. The rest of the room was far more important and damaged anyway. This led to the bullet that had killed the troll being fully incorporated into the castle wards, serving as both dimensional anchor and location beacon. Hermione was totally clueless about this, just like all the other madness that had occurred after touching that gun.
Dumbledore of course didn't have any thoughts about troublesome Riddles. He was far more worried that this was the handiwork of some eastern operative, a message that announced that they knew he knew about them and that they were quite capable of taking care of any opposition on his end, permanently. At this rate he would have to inform the ministry after all. Let them actually deal with something for once. And if it all crashed down, he would be better off with the ministry to be blamed. Assuming he was still alive that is.
He was guessing of course. With no idea on what the other side was doing or their aims, he was totally helpless. And to think he was finally able to calm himself after Moody dropped that bombshell on him too.
XXX
In Gryffindor tower, tensions were high. Halloween was still a very ominous day and had a lot of symbolism associated with it. With a troll on the loose, it was near impossible to keep the gossip and rumors in the within reason category.
The first years were a scared lot. Unlike the older students, who had more experience in all the weirdness and chaos of Hogwarts, the younger students had nothing to fall back on and were in the midst of imagining what painful demises as troll bait as their sheltered minds could. Ron Weasley however was not as scared of the troll as he was of the girl he had only the barest idea of hurting.
Hermione had been very quiet as she was led to the tower with the others. Once there however, she began to slowly grin in a mirthful fashion every time somebody whispered the harvests of fertile and terrified imaginations. Ron Weasley, who had heard the whispers of some of the more exotic deaths that were being thought off was beginning to inch away when the idea of a troll ripping somebody apart with their bare hands only served to further amuse the girl.
Tiggy was having fun. Well, that wasn't what the name she wanted, and would change it soon enough, but that was what she was used to. The poor downtrodden elf she was before was a mere nightmare compared to the feelings that this new form gave her. Sure she looked like a tiny demon most of the time, but that wasn't really much considering that she could apparently shape shift and become incorporeal. Playing her mistress was great, though not as much as it would have been if she didn't have the "make the gryffies sweat" order she was following. This violence loving individual she was making her mistress out to be ( her instinct was telling her she was not too far off) was extremely scary, as far as Ron Weasley and friends were concerned, so much so that he refused to let his eyes stray near her. Let the weasel be scared. He had worse coming for how he treated her mistress.
Hermione let out another giggle, with a sparkle in her eye. Ron and his dorm mates, having caught her expression of malicious glee, wondered if they had done anything to offend her lately. There was also much surreptitious planning along the lines of making nice with the wild eyed girl.
As this was going on, (not)Tiggy sensed the mistress coming closer. It was time to switch.
But Hermione continued to walk, away from the tower. Right, the place was locked down and crowded. The next switch would have to be done later, maybe tomorrow. How inconvenient. She noticed the twitching that was happening in "her" year mates. "Well, at least there's more time to play" And that was that. Really, with all the chaos she was creating, nothing else mattered.
XXX
With the end of the troll crisis, the next morning proved to be exceedingly normal. Everyone was much chipper, the general atmosphere of doom and gloom was washed away and even the head table seemed to be unusually calm compared to the "I'm feeling blue" vibe the teachers were putting out.
In the midst of all the normality, Hermione Granger slowly wandered about invisibly, one of the talents she had managed to discover last night, sometime after she realized that she wasn't feeling sleepy and consequently didn't need it as much as she did. Whatever that gun was, she wasn't the least bit unhappy about herself. She could feel, in the back of her mind, new instincts that told her that she was more powerful than the lowly mortals she persisted in staying around. Though, something about chaos seemed to calm the voice. Maybe it was part of the package deal the revolver came with.
At any rate, she was wandering the Great Hall searching for that elusive aura that came with the masked fellow who was followed by shells of air and will. Such an interesting fellow too. At least, one that didn't taunt or tease or (considering the skull vaporizing) run away screaming at her sight.
Sure, her new found love of violence and target practice was quite unusual but she couldn't help but feel so darned happy! At this point, she wasn't really bothered about if she would end up in hell like some superstitions suggested (the thought was egged on by Tiggy's baseline appearance) but she had her moment of pure bliss to savor, even if she had an eternity of torment awaiting her. Finding somebody put up even a facade of politeness towards her new self was quite the ego boost. So she searched by looking each and every table and person, making sure her senses were thorough as she scanned each and every person there was. Gryffindor was quickly eliminated as none of the people here were the one she wanted and everyone from that house was there at the moment. Besides, any Gryffindor who had seen her actions yesterday would have been either telling the world about her, shivering somewhere in a fetal position,or running away from her, screaming. Well, the "her" that was actually Tiggy anyway.
Tiggy had been different since that day. She didn't look like an elf, didn't talk like an elf and could do a whole bunch of things not done by an elf. Hermione wasn't actually sure what either of them were anyway. However, Tiggy was subservient to her wishes. The word 'thrall' was the closest she could find really. She was now independent and mischievous, especially if those furtive glances those of her year in Gryffindor were shooting the transformed elf were any indication. Still, she spoke better English, took initiative and was always helpful. Having a companion who was happy with her was quite pleasing.
When she came to the middle of Ravenclaw though, she noticed that one of the students was not emitting an aura. A shake of her head reverted her sight from "only auras" to "everything that's there normally" and found a shell, just like the ones she had seen before. When the individual turned to one side to listen in on an adjacent conversation though, Hermione was shocked. The person who was sitting there to avoid being there personally was...Harry Potter!
Well a likeness in a shell anyway. But it was clear that the real him was the one who made him. With enough concentration, she could see the strands of aura that created the shell. It was definitely the one from yesterday, of that she was sure.
And, in a moment of pause, the shell turned at her, gave a curious look, searching for something that wasn't there and continued as if nothing had happened.
Hermione quietly left the hall. She had much to think about. Potter was different. How she could not exactly say. But it was there, a tangible feeling, especially after examining the shell. It was like life energy, but something heavier, more...solid. Something more than mere magic. And he had whatever it was in spades. At least she knew she could find him anytime now. The energy acted like a beacon but also left traces. It was literally all around her, little traces of it that were being absorbed and emitted by the castle wards. And there he was, standing next to an arch, invisible to all others as far as she could tell. He was using the energy as a net or perhaps a blanket to refract light around him, hugging the walls and staying motionless to minimize discrepancies. She herself seemed to be phasing out of the visible spectrum. Which was why he couldn't see her but the other way was possible.
Hermione paused. How did she know that? She shrugged it off though. Too much odd stuff happened, too fast for her to properly be shocked at all of the strangeness. So she just wrote it off as her new body's something or the other acting up. Just like magic, her own life was now easier to deal with if she ignored such pesky and nervous breakdown inducing things such as logic and reason. She had no idea what her parents would think of all this, or whether she would tell them at all.
"Hi Dad. School was nice. I made lots of friends. Oh, and I don't think I'm human anymore!"
She could see that conversation going well. And how was she going to explain Tiggy anyway?
Such uneasy thoughts were quickly shoved away when Potter turned and looked in her direction. Like his shell, he had felt her but wasn't able to make his mind on what he had sensed. She was like a scientist observing a new phenomenon. From what she theorized, his power was linked to life energy, which meant that he should be able to sense her if she had life. Which meant he wouldn't be able to sense her if she was truly out of phase as her mind whispered. Unless she was and he was sensing an absence where there should be some or unless whatever he sensed was unique to him or somethingof that nature or...
Hermione shoved the whole train of thought as she sidled next to him and dropped her invisibility. The invisible boy automatically spun around ad plunged a blade through her arm and into the wall. It was thankful that nobody was there for that moment, for the sight of a knife plunging through the arm of a girl, only to reform into its old shape with minimum effort was quite disturbing. Even more disturbed perhaps were the participants of this little accident, one of whom was masked and invisible, staring at the girl through wide disbelieving eyes, quite visible through the animal(?) mask while looking absolutely befuddled.
The other was shocked at her lack of response to the whole event, merely twitching an eyebrow while she was surprised at the lack of pain, anger or indeed any reaction at all. The only thing she felt was the smoothness of the blade, a pain free sharpness of the edge, and the force and speed required to do what this boy did.
Hermione looked quite unruffled and flexed her fingers and joints in the arm, quite curiously.
"Would you mind not doing that again?"
The voice was sufficient to break the boy who gaped from his reverie. She was surprised to notice the speed at which Potter recovered into an air of nonchalance, having stowed away the odd looking knife at record time. It was at this time she noticed that Potter was still in that odd, slightly monochromatic tinge that told her he was out of the visible spectrum.
"Follow me, we'll talk in a more private setting."
Potter nodded and complied, following her at a sedate pace. 'He snapped out of that pretty fast. Maybe odd things happen to him too! Hmmm, We have class don't we? Looks like Tiggy would have to be creative today.'
XXX
The two ventured to a room in the seventh floor, where they proceeded to sit at a distance, staring at each other, refusing to make the first move. Finally Hermione let out a breath and spoke.
"Honestly Potter, we're alone here and I can see you anyway. Drop the invisibility and the mask please. Hiding your face isn't very polite you know."
He nodded and removed the mask, revealing that adorable little face that looked like he had too much on his shoulders.
"So are you really *the* Harry Potter? You're different from all the others you know. Wielding life energy...I didn't think such a thing possible. More life energy than magic? And only eleven yourself. What are you supposed to be anyway? Oh, where are my manners... My name is Hermione Jane Granger. Or was. Not sure about that actually..."
When she started mumbling by the end, Harry shook his head. This was all too much information to take in. first the girl turns out to not be human, then doesn't even blink when a kunai nearly slices her arm off, and regenerates like a shadow demon or tentacle monster or living gloop of some kind. Then she drags him off to this room in a remote part of the castle and promptly begins interrogating him with an ease that would be more at home at a tea party. It was official. He was now in the twilight zone.
And the sad part was he knew he was outmatched by this girl, who didn't show any discomfort at being nearly dis-armed and presumably couldn't be killed via physical means. And jutsu were an option only after as a last resort and he had nothing left to loose. Playing trump cards at the drop of a hat was not his ninja way.
As it was, he was getting quite an inkling of why a Bijuu scared people shitless. The feeling of being powerless against another being, a power gap that no training could overcome. It was only sheer force of will that kept him from bolting and possibly dieing in a way that would have been in short pointless.
"Yes, I am the real Harry Potter. I've come from unusual circumstances. What I wield is similar to but not exactly life energy. Yes I know I'm eleven, by all accounts so are you. May I ask what I am here for?"
Hermione merely grinned.
"Now now, Harry, If I can call you that-"
A hint of a nod.
"Well yes, its like this. Very recently I was transformed from my human self into something unique as you have seen... Now, I find my new self rather bored and lonely. And then all of a sudden, I find that *you* are another such unique person who is different from the rest, wolves among sheep..."
Harry was not sure, but he really didn't like the way this conversation was going. Transformed? From Humanity? Lonely? Unique? Statement conveying that they were different from everybody else and implying implicitly that they should stick together? Klaxons were screeching in his ears. So he interrupted her speech.
"I'm not giving up my humanity." he growled.
Hermione was even more amused. What a funny little boy. Jumping to conclusions like that.
"Nothing like that my dear. I just want somebody to talk to and somebody to go on adventures with...maybe some mutual training? Hmmm...there's a thought"
"No offense lady, but I really don't trust you and you're not showing many signs of sanity either. I have a personal rule against associating with possibly hostile S class entities."
Hermione blinked and filed away the last bit to examine for later. Maybe it had to do with the life energy he wielded, maybe not.
"Please! Pretty please? I can be useful! I know, next time you go kill something, let me watch!"
Harry was getting so freaked out that he was subtly pinching himself between the gaps in armor. And antagonizing somebody who behaved like a 5 year old in a sugar rush was quite unwise. So he simply nodded his head and prayed he would not end up getting sacrificed to some satanic cult or otherwise. He already had a battalion of clones he knew were totally useless sticking around (on walls, ceiling around aiming sharp implements in her direction. She didn't even blink. He was just thankful she hadn't brought out the "gun". Dodging bullets had not been an exercise he had practice in.
Hermione grinned. Somebody to help relieve her unusual boredom. Oh joyous day! Sure, books were nice, but this body required something more amusing to slake its thirsts (for chaos actually, but she didn't know that). It was extremely convenient to ignore the fact that her definition of amusing had changed to something truly terrifying.
Maniacal laughter was bouncing of the walls and scaring the self taught shinobi half to death. In another part of the castle, Tetsuya caught a shiver in his spine, as if some great and powerful evil was around him. He was sure of it. In Japan, a certain blind lady echoed similar sentiments.
XXX
A/N:
A new chapter! Hope you liked it.
A bit of randomness into what I presume to be a structured story. I'm a bit unbalanced these days myself. If you spot errors, please pm me. Your assistance is apreciated.
If I ever get around to totally revising this chappy, you'll be the first to know.
Joe is a one time appearance here. Came, saw, did his thing, vanished. No particular gender. Unless somebody can tell me how to insert meddlesome god like beings into mortal planes when bored/amused...ideas anyone?
An explanation for why Draco is such an impotent opponent, canon or otherwise. Wasn't born with an AK at the tip of his tongue, just a plain kid until daddy teaches him how the world goes round. Patricide at eight is just not the way to raise a kid.
As for Hermione's rapid deterioration to madness, I will point out she wasn't exactly a happy camper coming into Hogwarts. She had plenty of baggage from her old school and was resting all her hope into this great new place that is already filled with weirdness, a new kid without her previous rep. However, her behavior pretty much brings her to her previous school situation quickly and hits her hard. We're not talking about somebody who has seen the world and knows how to cope, but a little girl whose every worldly experience outside of her parents are of isolation and being degraded practically all the time. Again, I remind you that kids can be exceedingly cruel without knowing it, and their victims take it far harder than adults or teenagers. I can personally attest to that. Perhaps I've made her a bit darker, but that's just how I really see her as going.
In canon, she's pretty lucky to be not dead from the troll. Frankly I'm surprised that she didn't end up at a padded cell, what with emotional turmoil (Ron's insensitivity earlier) topped by a near death experience that is dripping with inadequacy issues all the way through. The subsequent imprinting upon her two rescuers I don't find surprising though. Much of her later nagging that the boys find troublesome are due to her desire to help them in the way she feels she can do best. My opinion anyway.
As of now, she's a little nuts, and having odd personality shifts at times, mostly centered around amusement. She's also a bit of both adult and child, a being of chaos. She instinctively understands that she doesn't have to worry about mortal problems and is bored as hell in her new form. So she decides to relive her boredom in any way possible. She won't get a direct role often, but will keep things interesting for her own sake, and hopefully for yours as well.
The revolver was a sort of trap, an automatic device. It found a suitable human/living thing and drew it into a "dream" to facilitate the later mental stuff 'A' was going to do by telling her it was her idea and that she wanted it. Basically clumsy brainwashing that would hold until t was made permanent. Its not a question of doing something against her will, but more of changing her desires and wishes until she was sufficiently motivated to go along with it, subconsciously at the very least. And then proceeded to rip her existence apart into the new being that 'A' is one of.
Harry's not really insane, he's just caught up in the novelty of being the insane guy the other fellow is scared to touch with a twelve foot pole. Maybe he understands why ninja in Naruto show so many *ahem* quirks. And in this chapter, he's found out exactly why people despise such unstable opponents. Hehe.
A more general note...written before starting this chapter mostly. Unnecessary but I do request you glance through it.
disclaimer: applying the following rigidly to real life can make you an ultra paranoid idiot with serious trust issues. On the other hand, you'll now be able to finally write that extremely in character Moody centric fic you always wanted to.
This story is one in which I try not to have any absolute in universe fact. Every "fact" in this story will be open to at least some form of interpretation. This is accomplished by presenting every part of the story from different perspectives, even if the owner of that perspective may be hidden or absent. Even in the background bits, perspective is everything. This not only gives a sense of reality (due to all the possible angles) to the story, but you can extrapolate the story yourself in different ways as your imagination lets you.
The way I have gone about this story is based on the idea that everybody has a different perspective. Every person is in itself a story, with character, personality, train of thoughts, aims, methods, reactions etc. and in the soup of their meeting, we have life. I've deviated from this in this chapter specifically because Hermione's circumstances are somewhat bizarre for an otherwise "normal" HP altverse. Unless of course, you consider Joe related bits as coming from "his" perspective.
China seems to be a major factor for a lot of readers. Some people love it, and some hate it. Everybody has their two words on it.
Lets consider what I have said about this here. Magical China in this story is some shadowy uber state with an immortal emperor and legions of advanced magic users. Also, they have seemed to be leaping ahead and are stable where the west has been decadent.
All of this can be inferred from first glance. On the other hand, you can infer different things from the sections from where the above "fact" was distilled. You could have a evil type empire ruled by an absolute tyrant. Or you could have the happy utopia coveted by all.
The power aspect may be iffy if one considers that China has not been in war with the west or anybody else who contribute perspectives to this fic. Japan yes, but not apparently, China. This could imply that Chinese strength is an illusion hidden behind the feats of a very gifted few, or that all of it is real and China is actually all badass. After all, the weapon that is never used is by definition, undefeated.
Even the immortality part is iffy. The immortality of the emperor, is described in ch9 as
"...a pesky little Chinese ritual that also kept the immortal emperor, immortal, though, his was linked to his willingness to serve and better his people and lands... "
It could be one huge ruse, perpetuated by clones or even lookalikes like Palpatine after the SW movies. It could be real immortality, with the described condition, taken literally. It could be that the same "condition" for immortality is subject to the emperors whims and modified on a dime. So it depends on your point of view.
Also, this itself is second hand info for Hayate, which he may or may not have in universe proof of. It might be true, it might not. It might be common knowledge, it might not. It might be propaganda on Chinese magics...it might not.
Again, the history explored is different in the perspectives. Lucius has a certain view of ninja before he meets them, from hearsay, that may or may not be reinforced by the trivia about ninja and America that we know Dumbledore "knows" but have no idea if Lucius does. Also, China has a same yet different version from the ninja and the Dumbledore perspectives. While the ninja "know" more about the present and also more of the interior workings of the nation, Dumbledore's perspective represents their external image, that of mystery and invincibility.
In another case, take Hogwarts itself. Its sentience and its limits are something a lot of fanfics have explored. Here, both points of view are there, again as part of different perspectives.
The sorting hat categorically states in ch8 that
"...The castle, which really is somewhat intelligent by the way..."
On the other hand, during Riddles mental rant (ch9), he 'says'
"...It was not sentient(well, after a point. It was still a thousand year old magical castle. It did have instincts, even if they were more along the lines of climate control and inexplicable chaos)..."
This is the truth as far as he knows, his perspective.
The sorting hats statement is also similar to Hayate's thought in that it might be true or not. It might be a known or unknown lie. Stuff like that. It gets really difficult to keep track of after a certain level.
(btw, am surprised that no one mentioned the particular seeming contradiction in the two sentience related statements.)
This also makes it difficult for me as even though I don't have to keep everything universally 'straight'. I have to make sure that every point of view remains consistent in their perspectives.
In another case, Voldie and Harry both have rooted hatred of Dumbledore, that is commonly seen in their use of disparaging nicknames. The teachers themselves seem to have a slight annoyance in his eccentricities. And the whole population even in cannon seems to hold him as "off". This has caused some people to accuse me of Dumbledore bashing...
But Dumbledore is not necessarily senile or stupid. While, different perspectives will hold his character in a certain light, the 'truth' is not necessarily the same. So its really a case of two people feeling better about their lots by childishly mentally bashing someone they really can't touch, irrespective of delusions. Also, if you really sit down and think about all these characters, you find justifications or lack thereof in their actions and thoughts that in turn change your perspective about the whole mess.
This is all derived from the story as of now. In later chapters, you may see new points views to add to whatever exists so far that will either prove or debunk the perspectives either described here or developed by you. Its all one big cauldron in flux. And while an obsessed reader will try to consider all these possibilities, even the casual reader should have their own perspectives on the story and its progress that develops with each chapter. This is why REVIEWS are so important to me, because frankly they tell me, as the writer, what people are thinking and also their perspectives. (yes this is a not so subtle hint if you've reached till here)
These principles are also applicable for every story that rolls out of any authors mind, but I thought I'd give you a glimpse behind the scenes of this story.
Author is in medical emergency. Please donate your precious REVIEWS to the author through the link at the bottom so that he may gain back his health and quickly move on to the next chapter...future donations are also welcome. Its a persistent condition...
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