Some interesting (and sometimes startling) reactions to the 'rape scene' in Earth 14. To me, Buddy and Mia's actions were little worse than normal predatory 'cruising' at a bar. They didn't date-rape him so much as wait until his decision making was knowingly inhibited (he was told about the airborne neurotoxin - is that really different than waiting for someone to get drunk of their own accord?) before initiating sexytimes for unknown purposes. If Harry had said 'no', his killbot would have enforced his decision with extreme prejudice.
I respect all interpretations but for the purpose of the story, it was just one of those 'young and dumb' things. Maybe one day, he might regret that night. Maybe he won't. That's life sometimes!
Final name for the magic ore has been chosen. Thank you to everyone who voted. It was a very close result.
Warnings for pseudo-science. I researched as much as I could but some things are 'because magic'.
Earth
In much the way a single spark can ignite an unstoppable wildfire, the discovery of Earth's 'unobtanium' sparked a firestorm of change.
Magusmegaphenocrystic dolerite was the technical term, not that anyone bothered to use it. Even the scientists in the GLF lab had taken to calling it 'avalonium', the name coined by global media networks still riding the King Arthur mythos surrounding its creator.
'Earth's unobtanium' was also technically wrong, but was used widely to explain it. Avalonium was almost completely different, at the molecular level, than brittle metallic unobtanium. Crystalline and dense, it could contain more power than an example of unobtanium twice its size - which was perhaps why creating it felt like forcing an industrial spring to compress.
Once, creation of such a material might have been the crowning glory of a Wizard's life. Harry wouldn't be surprised if Flamel's Philosopher's Stone hadn't been produced by a very similar method - and would be equally unsurprised if the Flamels had later died because they simply could not do it again after it was destroyed, 600 years later during a magical drought. For any other wizard, the creation of avalonium would be the result of a lifetime of work.
For Harry, it was almost instinctive.
The mixture of elements and minerals shifted and reformed as the artificially-generated magmatic mass rapidly cooled. Slowly, like a flower blooming from molten earth, a cluster of trigonal extrusions began to grow. Crystalline, deep blue prisms speared into existence even as sweat plastered his hair to his head and dripped down the sides of his face. He fought to control and compress the magic as he speared it across the room and through three layers of protective shielding even as it bled away into the world. Every complex machine and computer in the room shut down in the wake of such pure magic and even the Muggles could feel the thrum of power resonating in their bones.
When the chunk of unobtanium in his hand had abruptly crumbled to less than dust, he hadn't needed to wait for the sensors to come back online to see if it worked.
He'd just known.
Magic in physical form reverberated in a way that unobtanium never had. He felt it, deep in his chest, between his heart and soul where his magic twined around both. It sang to him.
The world might call it avalonium, but to Harry? It was hope.
Tests confirmed their expectations. The substance held magic the same way unobtanium did and when a tiny sliver was removed and drained, it degenerated first into a dolerite-like substance, then into chalk.
The legend of Stonehenge exploded once more, joined by the many dozens of other global stone circles and followed swiftly by pretty much any other megalithic construct. From the simplest unadorned menhir in a field to the heavily-carved obelisks, every nation was re-examining their history with an eye to this new angle. Indeed, there were thousands of dolmens from Europe to Asia and beyond that had long been assumed to be grave markers despite no human remains under or around them. If even a fraction of them had once been made of avalonium…
The past had become a new frontier to explore. Humans had never loved anything more.
In conjunction with Japan's team of runic researchers (under Hana-the-annoyingly-shy's leadership), Harry proceeded to demonstrate even more reasons that avalonium was superior to unobtanium. The crystalline material could be carved with runes that shaped the purpose of the energy held within - while unobtanium remained lifeless and inert. Much like training a plant to grow a certain way, the power contained within avalonium could be gently bent into a 'new normal' that became stable and self-sustaining. And best of all? It still didn't bleed.
A simple demonstration with tiny chips of avalonium and simple paper showed how a 'root stone' - engraved with the desired effect - made the paper it was attached to invulnerable to harm while 'boundary stones' prevented the effect from either spreading to unwanted items or leaking uselessly into the world. Contained, directed and sustained magic. The possibilities were endless and the scientific community convulsed anew.
Could Wizards be returned tomorrow if each carried a wand made of this element? If an avalonium monument was built near people's homes and boundary stones erected outside the neighborhood, would children begin to be born with magic again? If a single chip could make a ton of metal as light as a feather then the cut to costs in transport, construction and space-travel alone were staggering. The GLF was quick to jump on old runes once used by lazy potioneers and, combined with slivers of nano-carved avalonium, produced shockingly simplified, idiot-proof air purifiers that were self-sustaining for an estimated hundred years or more.
Once dry and boring rune and arithmancy books were re-released to mass acclaim. Hundreds of universities started brand-new courses dedicated solely to magical engineering, coming up with more ideas in months than wizard-kind had developed in lifetimes. Magic was suddenly the answer to everything in a way that it hadn't been before avalonium. Even after Harry had touched unobtanium and shown what he could do, magic had been a wonderful but ultimately fantastical concept. Alluring, but untouchable by the everyman and soon to be lost for good regardless.
But now? Magic could be made to stay. Made to serve a purpose, to be channeled, to be wielded by even those without it once the initial creation was done. It was within reach, a skill that could be mostly learned, a wave of commercial opportunities to seize for quick entrepreneurs - if they could but work out the correct 'programming' to implement and afford the base materials. Muggles, Harry had learned, had become very very good at programming.
A theory came out of the ultra-urban remains of Norway. If Stonehenge and other stone circles had been used as primitive computers, guiding high-power tasks and creating stable wormholes as Japan had proposed, was it possible that they could do even more? Such as, for example, direct energy from one source… into another?
Could, they asked, a sufficiently designed circle of avalonium work to replicate itself under appropriate conditions? A factory, as it were, for magic. Input unobtanium, output avalonium, no wizard needed.
The idea made Harry oddly uneasy, even though he could see the use in it. Alone, there was no way he could satisfy the demand of an entire world even if he worked every day until he died. And it wasn't like he needed the money, to shy away from helping such a useful commodity become more widespread.
But still… it felt somehow wrong.
For now, the idea was still just an idea. Not only would the programming aspect require a hell of a lot of thought, there was still the not-insignificant aspect whereby creation of new avalonium required molten, pressurised magma.
Back in Japan, working closely with a team focusing specifically on Stonehenge and experimenting with various avalonium cycolith constructs, Harry heard as Anthropologists began to predict a new age. What the Industrial Revolution and the Space Age had done for humanity, magic was poised to do again.
When Hana placed slivers of avalonium carefully into place (each nano-carved by a technician as Harry kept close watch and activated each rune in order) and all but stumbled over a working arrangement, the entire department screamed and jumped for joy.
A tiny, stable portal had unfolded between two sister-circles.
They'd done it. Solid proof of scientific concepts older than everyone in the room, Harry included. If they'd spent the rest of the night getting progressively more sloshed and playing 'interdimensional wormhole beer pong', well. Nobody had to know.
The successes didn't stop there and it was as exhausting as it was exhilarating. Teams around the world worked their assess off to learn from each other's successes and put together more sophisticated (and less guesswork) constructs, begging his time for both activation and assessment of the results.
Luckily, being in such demand meant he got out of most of the 'real' testing. The tiresome, repetitive scientific process that would take months to determine the limits of every possible aspect of every new discovery, as much theoretical calculation as physical action. Yuki made sure to keep him updated on the important discoveries, such as the fact that Japan's wormhole team had determined that there seemed to be no Earthly distance limit to the portal's capacity to transmit. They were still working on whether the amount of mass transmitted had an effect. Hana speculated that a gateway built onto a conjunction of ley lines would last longer, potentially neutralizing the drain entirely, but that was one thing Harry put his foot down about. The last thing they needed was to tap the keg of the world (again), especially just to see if they could.
6 months later, it was proven that a sister-circle portal could link Earth and the factories on the Moon for instantaneous transportation.
Japan's dream of inter-planetary colonisation became a global one overnight.
And everyone knew they had Harry Potter to thank for it.
Earth
He broke their minds. Mia signed wearily, eyes fixed on the ribbon screen over her hospital bed. Three different channels were running simultaneously, each of them focused on a certain green-eyed semi-human who held the future of humanity in his soft, generous hands.
On the left, a camera zoomed in on a giant sign projected into the side of a mountain - 'I Will Follow Him… into SPACE!'. The second screen featured humourless suits discussing colonial set-up costs, law & order and psychological problems and how impossible the whole idea was while the last showcased pure unadulterated optimism. People all over the world had woken up to the news that Japan was leading the charge into offworld colonisation, with Harry's mystical mojo making it happen.
The world, understandably, was collectively losing their shit.
Buddy leaned back against the bed and kept watching as the screen replayed various official and unofficial cuts of footage showing their infamous friend sailing through his life of celebrity like it was all he'd ever known. Wielding magic like a miracle, like an act of God, like it was nothing. How could a person like that even notice people like him and Mia?
They'd gambled everything on him. For a while there, they'd thought they'd lost. Months of slow and careful work had netted them nothing and then, after the Wild (and the day following), he'd just left the country and gone silent. It wasn't uncommon, most of the planet wanted a piece of him one way or another and they were no exception, but they'd thought…
Well. It didn't matter what they'd thought.
He'd been the easiest mark they'd ever found, but the hardest too. Wide-eyed and maybe not innocent - those eyes had sharp things dripping blood lurking in their depths - but naive in the ways that mattered. Ignorant of how kindness like his could be taken advantage of. Blind to what he represented, how many ways he could be used, how very quickly even something like him could be brought down and snuffed out.
His human bodyguard had seen them for what they were, had been the biggest obstacle in their way and if he hadn't been taken out of action he'd have probably managed to shut them out of his charge's life completely. But they'd been smart. They'd been patient. They'd tracked their mark's movements and moods, had studied his biography and the social norms of the time he'd come from. They recorded every communication and studied his reactions, changing their manners of speech and topics of conversation to put him at ease. They'd had the need and the drive and the skill to take him for everything he had.
They just didn't have the time. And right when they'd thought they'd run out…
A sharp slap to the back of his arm had him turning, grimacing an apology. Mia had been signing to him while he'd been lost in thought but he'd ignored the letters flashing in his vision. Tuned her out.
The fuck was wrong with him?
You feel bad? Mia studied him, drawn and pale and damp with a persistent cold sweat.
"No." He answered immediately, honestly. Because how could he? Mia's sweaty, weakened body was lying on a damned hospital bed - something they wouldn't have been able to afford just two days earlier. Hell, the flu she'd caught alone might have killed her if not for the mysterious injection of funds into their account, let alone the still-untreated erosion of her throat and lungs.
Mysterious. Ha.
He'll never know. She signed next, face as expressionless as her words. Only her eyes revealed how she felt, glimmers of concern - for him - catching the bright hospital lights.
"I know." He agreed, turning his back to the ribbon and sitting himself on the bed instead. Unbidden, his eyes flicked up to the wall of monitors and reports behind her. The hospital wanted her stable and recovered before they even talked about surgery or clone-grown transplants. He was well aware that they'd already had credit checks done on them at least three times and they'd probably been reported for fraud investigation as well. People like them didn't ever have the money for places like this.
Do we have enough? She asked next, trying to discover the source of his persistent disquiet. Good luck to her, he wasn't even sure himself.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure we do. Enough for the important stuff anyway." He tried to smile, she was the one in the damned hospital bed. She should not be cheering him up. "If we need more, I'm pretty sure we won't have a problem getting it."
The first score, after all, was always the hardest. After a person had parted with their money once and you hadn't vanished into the underground with it, they'd do it a hundred times more before they'd let themselves think about the probability that they were being strung along. He'd pulled this con with ugly, lonely daughters of middle-class workers, with housewives and spinsters and more than a few old ladies who spoiled him like a grandson even as they sat too close and touched him in ways a grandmother shouldn't. He hardly ever pulled it with guys since they were more likely to demand what they wanted early in and would (had) kick his ribs in if they thought for a second he was running a con.
Mia had never been good at this type of play. Ironically, she wasn't that good a liar. Not socialised enough to come off as anything other than the damaged predator she was, as ready to cut a mark's throat as she was to spread her legs for them. Her highest paying marks were the type who just wanted to dominate a woman, especially one who gave off 'that air' - that haughty mix of cold shoulder and disdain that they probably had to deal with a lot being the creeps they were. It was a dangerous gig and neither of them liked having to fall back on it. They liked even less seeing the other have to do it.
What they did to people instead somehow seemed… less bad. Certainly less risky. And for people like Harry? The money he'd given them was a drop in the ocean of riches he'd been steadily accumulating. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it.
So why the hell was he feeling like he should have just sold himself instead? Like it wouldn't have been… better. Better to be a high-priced whore for the guy than a 'friend' only in it for the money.
Maybe he'd finally fallen for his own con. Let himself like the guy just a bit too much. Despite all the money and fame, there was still something inherently… good about Harry. Something that deserved a hell of a lot better than 'friends' like him and Mia.
It's not like we took his bone marrow. Mia argued weakly, reading his face like no-one else could. We haven't driven him into poverty. It's not like we've hurt him.
He dropped his eyes to hers. Read in them the quiet, ugly truth.
"Yeah, I know." He said grimly. "But we're gonna."
Earth
"We did it."
It takes a sleepy moment for Harry to place the voice. He'd just got back from the UAE the day before, after weeks of press conferences and high-level global planning committees. He'd somehow found himself the spokesperson for both the RDA and Japan's QGAE until Yuki and Dave together had helped him foist that role over to someone more appropriate (and more interested in it).
He'd been knackered by the time he finally got home and it had only been a few hours after going to bed that a priority call startled him from sleep. His brain lagging, he blearily glared around for Shamus' obnoxious alarm clock before remembering where and when he was.
Woah. It'd been a while since that'd happened. Now who the hell..? Not many people even could call him directly any more. 99% of it was filtered through Yuki now, but his Hub was flashing an insistent profile picture on his window next to the automatic transcript of whatever the person was saying.
"Madeline?" He yawned, knuckling at the corner of one eye as he sat up, other hand smoothing over the satin-soft skin of his companion bot. Yuki, yawning rather more cutely, looked up at him and waited for orders. Her silky hair, free from the complicated fashions she normally put it up in, spilled over the two of them like liquid night.
"Wait." He cut the woman off as neurons finally fired in the right direction. "You did it. What-" He cuts himself off this time, eyes widening. "You did it? You mean, Mike?"
"He's awake." Roux confirms, rightfully smug. "One of the science geeks worked up a cocktail that rebuilt the damaged parts of his brain in less than five goddamn minutes. Fucking magic. The docs figured there'd still be loss of function and memories, considering where the damage was located, but apparently not. Fuck-ing magic. A little PT and he'll be back on his feet, ready for duty."
"That's fantastic!" He breathed, scrambling up out of bed and into the set of clothes Yuki had laid out for him the night before. "How long till he can come back?"
"Couple months, tops. Apparently his first words were askin' if you were okay so he'll be glad you still want him. Haven't been too spoiled by that killbot you've got following on your heels."
"Are you kidding?" He retorted, months of borderline hostility falling away before the news she'd brought him. "If anything, I'll be glad Amazon is here to back him up next time. I have this weird 21st century quirk where I don't like my friends getting shot."
"Weird is the word." Roux chuckled. "Well anyway, I got other shit to do. Just wanted to let you know the news and remind you of our deal."
Harry slowed. "I remember." He confirmed, freshly uneasy but not enough to break his word. "You sure you still want to do it that way? The avalonium-"
"Has a lot of potential but is still in its infancy." Madeline interrupted, not unkindly. "Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of dreaming going on down in the labs - but it'll be years before they produce something final, let alone affordable. The Rebirth Project… there's still a lot of positive support for it, a lot of volunteers waiting. We're ready to go when you are."
"Let me meet with Mike first, then…" Harry sighed. "go ahead and set it up. Tag me with the details and I'll see you there."
"Will do." The old warhorse relaxed. "Thank you, Mr Potter. Harry. Roux out."
Earth
Ended the chapter here because the response to the Rebirth Project was pretty strong - both for and against. For those strongly against it, you might wanna skip that part of the next chapter, 'cause it's gonna happen.