A Dangerous Experiment
AN: Like with most of my stories, I used Grammarly to help me with my Grammar, but with this story, I wanted to see what AI could do, so I used Google Gemini to help me fix the passive voice issues I tend to have, to help me make specific sentences flow better, and to help me pick a title.
The plot is mine, and the characters belong to either Mythology, History, or JK Rowlings, with a tiny blink, and you miss it, HG Wells. The idea for this story came to me on 21 September, when Microsoft had a small blurb on HG Wells for his 158th birthday. I do not give anyone permission to upload this story to any site. If you wish to translate it, please speak to me first.
This story was written to jump around in time, so please watch for the date or year at the beginning of paragraphs.
Newton's fluents treat time as a linear flow, but Einstein's theory of relativity suggests that time is relative and depends on your frame of reference. Einstein's theory suggests that the universe is a four-dimensional block that contains all of space and time simultaneously, with no special "now."
Warning: this story is marked as Mature due to adult themes and historical violence.
Music recommendation for this story, In the Year 2525.
CHAPTER 1: 1895 The Unspeakables Folly
Unspeakable Thirteen-the oldest of the Unspeakables at the Ministry of Magic-sat in his office writing a letter. Unspeakable Twenty-Five waited patiently for the elder Unspeakable to finish his letter, having already given Thirteen all the arguments he could think of on why he should not do the experiment he was about to attempt. "Thirteen…" Twenty-five started to say.
"No," Thirteen responded, not even looking at his coworker. He rose to his feet and stretched the robe that concealed his identity, dropped down his arms to his shoulders, revealing fashionable cream shirtsleeves with thin emerald green pinstripes. Emerald green arm garters held his sleeves up, keeping the cuffs away from the ink as he wrote. The crisp white cuffs, fastened with beautiful black obsidian cufflinks, looked perfectly starched.
Thirteen powdered his letter, then returned the quick-dry powder to the pot. He folded the now-dry letter and placed it in an envelope on his desk. 'Ink was such a mess,' he thought. 'But no one would take anything I wrote seriously in pencil, and lead could be just as messy.' He grabbed his right ring finger, and an invisible signet ring appeared. The silver band held a large, flat ruby carved with two facing animals guarding a bubbling cauldron. This was a unique herald, combining three families into one. Few families had the Peverell Thestral or the Gryffindor Lion guarding a potion master's cauldron on their signet ring. He knew only the Longbottom family also had the right to use the Gryffindor Lion. Thirteen looked at the ring fondly before slipping it into the envelope with the letter.
"Please don't make me tell your pretty little wife that you killed yourself," Twenty-five moaned as Thirteen handed the envelope over as they left the office and headed to another room. "Please wait until we can try more tests," the man whined.
"No more test; we need to get this done now before the Muggles beat us to it," Thirteen said forcefully, repeating what he had said countless times.
"The Muggles are still living in huts made of mud, shit, and grass; they are not sophisticated enough to travel through time!" Twenty-five sneered, his Pureblood belief in Magi superiority strong.
"Get out of the country and head into a large city like London to see how true Muggle lives. The life of a country Muggle is not the same as the sophistication, creativity, and education of a city Muggle. They are quickly catching up to the Magi in education and will surpass us in the next one hundred years if we don't continue to grow as a people," Thirteen argued back.
Twenty-five snorted. "That, I find highly unlikely. We are Homo Sapiens Meliusculum for a reason; I have gone out into Muggle London, and it is a nasty mess! A yellow poison cloud hangs in the air, and the water is black when it rains. The rivers are full of sewage and other pollutants, and the noise from the factories, the horse-drawn carriages, and vendors yelling everywhere at everyone is enough to drive a man crazy!" Twenty-five was yelling as he finished his rant. Thirteen had stopped walking and just watched as Twenty-five ranted. The man was breathing hard as he finished his rant, and Thirteen gave him time to catch his breath before turning and walking away.
"I'm done arguing with you," Thirteen said with a tired sigh as they entered the room they used in the Department of Mysteries, The Time Room, where they studied traveling through time. Unspeakable Thirteen took off his cloak, revealing his identity as Lord Henry Charlus Potter, sitting member of the Wizengamot, the Duke of Moridunum, Potion Master—Expert Ordo, favorite cousin to Queen Victoria, and handed the cloak to Twenty-five.
Lord Potter was a dashing Wizard in his seventies, and for a Wizard, which meant he looked like he was in his mid-thirties to early forties. His wild dark hair-controlled by a potion he invented—laid nicely on his head in controlled waves and was starting to go white at the temples, giving him a classic, distinguished look. For his facial hair, he had his beard growing as a Friendly Mutton Chop following the example of a German inventor Henry met-Werner von Siemens-when the Ministry of Magic had decided to modernize and add Lifts to the building. Of course, these were magic lifts, not the Muggle lifts that von Siemens had invented, as they could move side to side, not just up and down. Henry delicately stepped over the runes drawn on a round cement pad—thank you, Romans, for inventing cement, giving rune masters an exacting even floor to draw on—and pulled his sapphire blue day jacket from his tartan trouser pocket. He wore it over his cream and green shirt, grey vests, and copper-colored cravat tie. The tartan of his trousers had the same colors mixed in as the rest of his colorful wardrobe. He was very dapper-looking. Out of the other trouser pocket, Henry pulled out a newsboy cap made of the same tartan fabric as his trousers and put it on his head.
"All right, settle down, everyone," Henry Potter told the small Unspeakables crowd. "As I mentioned last week, I met a Muggle man at the University of London who gave a presentation on time travel. We cannot allow a Muggle to be the first human to travel through time; I will be attempting it today." Henry heard some scoffing at a Muggle, having the ability to travel in time.
"Thirteen! Good luck!" One of the younger interns called out, Ninety-seven. Henry had recruited her himself straight from Hogwarts.
"Thank you, Ninety-seven," Henry replies before taking a deep breath. "As I mentioned, I watched a presentation on time travel given by a Muggle at one of their universities, and from what I can see, his way of time travel is different than ours, but he's close to succeeding. If I do not return, one of you will take the pseudonym Mr. Narrator and join in at the dinner party he is hosting next week. The invitation is on my desk. Find out everything he has about time travel and then lead a raid to confiscate it. Muggles being able to time travel will unequivocally break the Statue of Secrecy."
Twenty-five shook his head, stepped closer to the rune, and begged, "Harry, please do not do this!"
"Ambrose Longbottom, if I don't return, there is paperwork that the Goblins will release to you stating that it is my wish for you to sit proxy on the Wizengamot for my son Henry Fleamont Potter until 1913 when he becomes twenty-one years of age. I also wrote it for my seat on the Muggle House of Lords, but I will not force you to sit with Muggles if you hate them that much. Please teach him well," Henry whispered to his friend, his brother in arms; he held his hand out, and both men shook hands before stepping away.
Unspeakable Thirteen, Lord Henry Charlus Potter chanted in a foreign tongue and then disappeared in purple flames. Twenty-five waited a month before he approached Lady Potter with the news that her husband was gone. All the arithmancy done before the test told he would be gone a maximum of thirty minutes as he traveled thirty years into the past before returning.
~HPMHP~
The Daily Prophet pg. 2 Obituary
Lord Henry Charlus Potter
Lord Henry Charlus Potter (age 70), Harry to his close friends, a revered figure in the Wizarding World, passed away on 31 October 1895. A brilliant Potioneer, esteemed member of the Wizengamot and the (Muggle) House of Lords, and dedicated public servant, Lord Potter was known for his sharp mind, kind heart, and unwavering commitment to the Wizarding community.
Lord Potter was a true innovator, constantly pushing the boundaries of Magic. His contributions to the field of potion-making were groundbreaking, and his inventions continue to benefit Wizards and Witches around the globe.
Beyond his academic pursuits, Lord Potter was a devoted family man and a loyal friend. His family, colleagues, and countless others whose lives he touched will deeply miss him.
His wife, Lady Eleanor Potter nee Fleamont, his son, Heir Henry "Fleamont" Potter, and numerous cousins spanning both Britain and the American colony survive him. He is proceeded in death by his father, Lord Aurelius Severus Potter, who died in battle against the Dark Lord Barnabas Deverill, and his elder brother, Heir Severus Aurelius, who died mysteriously the night before he was to marry Phoebe Black. The Potter family has not disclosed the circumstances surrounding Lord Henry Charlus Potter's death. They request privacy during this difficult time as they grieve their loss.
~HPMHP~
1899
The Daily Prophet pg. 8
Tragedy strikes the Unspeakables
Eloise Mintumble, Unspeakable known as Ninety-seven, a pioneering witch and a tragic figure in time-travel history, passed away on 21 December 1899. Her untimely demise is a stark reminder of the dangers inherent in tampering with the fabric of time. Mintumble, a brilliant and adventurous spirit, was at the forefront of time-travel research. However, her audacious attempt to travel back five centuries resulted in a catastrophic ordeal. Trapped in the distant past, she aged rapidly. Upon her return, she succumbed to the irreversible damage to her body. Her tragic fate marked a turning point in the study of time travel, leading to the implementation of stringent regulations and the abandonment of dangerous experiments. Mintumble's legacy is a cautionary tale, urging future generations to approach time travel with the utmost respect and caution.
Unspeakable Twenty-five said, "Time travel is an impossible alluring dream. While the concept of time travel is fascinating, there are several fundamental reasons why it is impossible based on our current understanding of Magic. Two of those reasons showed themselves when Miss Mintumble traveled through time. Causality: This principle states that an effect cannot precede its cause. If you could travel back in time and change the past, it would create a paradox, as the altered past would lead to a different present, contradicting the original timeline. Grandfather's Paradox: a classic example is the "grandfather paradox." If you travel back in time and kill your grandfather before he meets your grandmother, you would never have been born, creating a logical contradiction. By our calculations, twenty-five families disappeared from our timeline due to her travel back to 1402; what amazing things could those people have gone on to do for our community had they not been wiped from existence, been unborn?
The study of time travel through rituals will cease, and the study of time travel through the Sands of Time will continue as we have had some (limited) success in this research.
~HPMHP~
Early morning, 31 October 1895
Henry woke from his third nightmare of the night. Eleanor, his beautiful, golden-haired French wife, slept peacefully beside him, undisturbed by his restless mind. The eve of his most famous experiment had filled him with anxiety, but he couldn't shake the unsettling dreams. Rising from the bed, he stood naked at the window, gazing at the sleeping valley, the winding river, and the ancient town of Caerfyrddin below.
Like with Hogwarts, the Muggles who saw his castle saw a ruin, a small Norman castle built during the Norman Conquest given to his family by Walter of Gloucester, a cousin to one of his ancestors. Walter also built another castle within the town; all that was left of that castle was a gatehouse.
Born and raised in this castle, Henry cherished it above all his family's other estates across the British Isles. Local legend held that Merlin himself had been born in the region, a tale Henry wholeheartedly believed. As a nine-year-old, he'd often explored a nearby cave filled with stunning white quartz crystals. There, nestled on a quartz pedestal, he discovered a leather-bound book purportedly written by Merlin, offering cryptic glimpses into the wizard's life and travels. The cave, with its secrets, sealed itself shut after Henry's visit, forever preserving its mysteries.
Intrigued by the book, Henry had joined the Unspeakables, determined to verify its authenticity. The book's unusual format—a single volume rather than the traditional scrolls—raised questions, but the persistent notion of Merlin as a time traveler offered a possible explanation. While leaving the cave, Henry stumbled upon a peculiar purple quartz crystal, contrasting with the white ones. He took it with him, little knowing its significance.
Two years later, at the tender age of eleven, Henry visited Diagon Alley to acquire his first wand from Skapt's Wands. Unbeknownst to him, the skilled wandmaker, Henrik Skapt, sensed a unique connection to the purple quartz and incorporated it into the wand's design. Now, as Henry gazed out the window, that very wand rested within his grasp. A sense of anticipation filled him, a familiar feeling, a vague premonition that something significant was about to unfold. He hoped this time it would herald the success of his experiment.
"Arry, why are you not in bed?" Eleanor Fleamont Potter asked her husband in her charming French accent. Naked and shivering slightly, she joined him at the window, wrapping her arms around him and resting her golden head on his shoulder.
"I'm just a bit nervous about an experiment I'm conducting later today," Henry murmured into her hair, his voice barely audible. As he playfully tickled her, she giggled and squirmed in his embrace. "Perhaps we should give little Fleamont a sibling," he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eye. He lifted her up and pressed her against the windowpane, their intimate moment shielded from the Muggle world by powerful enchantments. The thrill of their secret passion, hidden from prying eyes, added an extra spark to their lovemaking.
Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers; I am thankful to be able to share my stories with you.