THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE

CHAPTER 3:

SCHRÖDINGER

With a groan, fuchsia eyes flickered open. The blonde boy with the cat ears stretched and yawned on his bed, morning amnesia mercifully giving him ignorance about his situation until he finished going to the toilet. Then, he walked out, a frown marring his cute features. He was dressed only in pyjamas, a little oversized, but it was the best he could do. According to the nametag, they belonged to an 'S Black', presumably from when he was a teenager.

Schrödinger realised he had a void within him. It took him a moment to realise what that absence meant. There were all those feelings towards Millennium, towards the Major and the Doctor. Towards the ideals of National Socialism, as well as the ideal of total war for its own sake. Loyalty to those, above all others. And the honour of sacrificing himself to defeat the ultimate vampire, Alucard.

Anger filled that void for a moment. He had been robbed of those wonderful, wonderful feelings, tricked by that dark-haired bitch with the emerald eyes. And he wanted them back! He wanted them back RIGHT NOW!

Then, he realised that not everything had changed. His feelings of friendship towards the Captain, and towards Rip van Winkle, the only two in Millennium he could call friends. They were still there. The desire for pranks towards the Major and the Doctor, and Zorin and Alhambra, not to mention the collection of coprolites(1) known as the Old Men of the Opera House. The sharing of dirty jokes with Jan Valentine, despite Rip's admonishments that he was too young to know such things.

Last night, he hadn't spent much time after taking the potion being awake. He had headed to the bedroom he habitually slept in whenever he visited this place. Even so, his thoughts had been filled with those of the girl he had encountered.

His keen nose smelt something in the air. Something cooking. And whatever it was, it smelt delicious. His stomach growled, and he realised he needed some breakfast.

As he dressed, he hesitated before he donned the shirt of his Hitlerjugend uniform. It only just occurred to him that he had only really worn this uniform for the past few years of his life, pyjamas and the rare occasion where he was allowed to dress in mufti. After a moment, he found a T-shirt with AC/DC on it. An Australian rock band, if he recalled. Jan was fond of it, much to Rip van Winkle's annoyance, as she preferred opera (and Der Freischütz in particular), though the Captain seemed to enjoy it.

After getting dressed, he walked to the kitchen, where the smell was coming from, just in time to have the girl put a pair of plates on a nearby table, with toast, bacon, and fruit. The table was meant for servants in this manor, but it seemed that the girl didn't care. Considering she cooked it, it wasn't surprising. "Oh, hi. I'm sorry, I didn't know what to get you."

"Dafür nicht, Fraulein," Schrödinger said. "It smells delightful."

The girl laughed a little bitterly. "You're the first person to actually compliment my cooking, to my face, anyway. My relatives never did, and anyone I cooked for on their behalf never knew I did the cooking."

Schrödinger frowned. Her name came back to him. Rose Potter. Then, an association. The Girl Who Lived. It was actually a shock to see her as one of his kind. Then again, he'd been surprised to find out he even had a kind when he came here for the first time and encountered the portrait of the Potters and Catriona. He'd always thought Doc had put him together in a lab.

She had a messy shock of black hair, framing a pretty, if a bit thin-looking face. Her eyes were like emeralds, in a way that meant describing them meant venturing dangerously into the territory of purple prose. A jagged, lightning bolt-shaped scar snaked out from beneath her fringe. And protruding from her head were a pair of cat ears.

"Would you like tea? Fruit juice? Water?"

"Water would be fine, Fraulein, as long as it doesn't have any potions in it," Schrödinger said politely. He actually felt like it, as this girl was treating him fairly nicely. Plus, her breakfast smelled nice. And so did she. He could smell her even beneath all that smell of the breakfast.

"Sorry about that, I just had to take that potion myself," Rose said. "I mean, Catriona said I should try and get you to take some, but you did it all yourself. What did you think it was?"

Schrödinger shrugged. "Vodka. Or maybe Klarer(2)." Rip van Winkle, Zorin, and Jan Valentine had promised to get him drunk for his 14th birthday, a little over a year from now. It was probably going to be his last birthday, given the plan. Still didn't mean he wasn't curious about what it tasted like.

"Why would you want to drink at your age?" Rose asked.

"Curiosity."

"And you know what that killed. Or made vomit copiously, anyway."

"Danke. I needed that reminder," Schrödinger said a little bitterly.

"That's why I made breakfast. Think of it as an apology. I used that potion myself, and I didn't like it either."

They spent the time eating breakfast in silence. Schrödinger had to admit, it was pretty good. So as apologies went, it was all right. And there was a small part of him that said, Why do you need an apology? All she did was set you free.

After she took the plates away, Schrödinger said, "So, you're the Girl Who Lived, huh? Even Millennium are aware of you, though they wouldn't know that you're like me."

"How would a Nazi remnant know of me?"

"There are plenty of mages on the staff, Fraulein. You are famous throughout the wizarding world. You know, if you have the same affinity as I, this explains a lot about how you survived the Killing Curse," Schrödinger said.

Catriona, in the painting on the wall, said, "Actually, the powers come to the fore during childhood, not infancy. We knew she had an affinity not from her using those powers, but because of a simple testing charm. Lily used an obscure ritual to protect Rose. In exchange for sacrificing her life, Rose got protection from Voldemort. Sadly, it also made her famous."

"I wish it hadn't," Rose said bitterly. And Schrödinger was struck by the clear implication that she detested her fame.

Suddenly, a beautiful white owl flew in, with what looked like a newspaper clutched in its talons. "Hedwig!" Rose said with a smile. She had some leftover bacon, which she gave to the owl as she took the newspaper away. "She came in last night shortly after you went to bed," she explained. She started reading the newspaper, and sighed a quiet sigh of relief. "I guess they were right. I'm not being expelled."

Schrödinger got up from the table, and peered over her shoulder at what she read.

ROSE POTTER MISSING!

After an altercation with her Muggle relatives that ended with the Obliviators and Accidental Magic Reversal Squad being called in, Rose Potter has fled her home in Surrey. It is understood, given a statement from Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, that Potter, 13, had been insulted by a Muggle aunt, ignorant of her parents' heroic sacrifice, and in a fit of anger-fuelled accidental magic, inflated her already corpulent aunt. Rose Potter then fled for parts unknown.

In light of the recent escape of mass-murderer Sirius Black from Azkaban, and the possibility that he may be targeting Rose Potter, the Minister has stated that any penalty for her accidental magic has been waived. Instead, he has made a plea, one which all of us at The Daily Prophet make as well. Please, let us know you are safe, Rose Potter.

There was other parts to the article, but Schrödinger didn't pay them much heed. Rose was chewing at a fingernail pensively. "I'll have to send someone a letter about Sirius Black. My parents claimed that he's innocent, that Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper."

Catriona, from her portrait, said, "I would send two such letters. One to the Minister, and the other to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The last we heard anything, that dried-up old turd Crouch got kicked out of the DMLE, and Amelia Bones got in. She's reasonable."

Rose nodded, before she frowned. "By the way, what are Dementors? Only, according to this article, Fudge is sending them from Azkaban to Hogwarts."

Catriona paled, and Schrödinger, who admittedly didn't know that much about the wizarding world, knew enough about Dementors to be afraid. He shuddered. "Fraulein," he said quietly, "there are few ways that Cat Sìth with our affinity can die permanently. A Dementor is one of them. They feed on the happiness of those around them, sucking them from anyone nearby. Sometimes, they dredge up your worst memories. On rare occasions, they can cause those affected to suffer a fit and faint. They are vicious, evil creatures. Even Millennium didn't want anything to do with them. Magical Britain is the only country who uses them as prison guards, as they suppress magical ability. What is more, they can perform something called the Dementor's Kiss." Schrödinger shivered. "Dementors and vampires have one thing in common: they can extract the very soul of a person they feed on. But where those vampires feed on can live on as a familiar of the vampire, the Dementor's Kiss means that the Dementor digests and destroys the soul, leaving the body a husk that barely qualifies as alive. A Dementor can kill one like us if it gives us the Kiss."

"And the fools in the Ministry think they control them," Catriona said. "Instead, they made a Faustian pact. The Dementors'd be angry that Sirius managed to get by them, and they'd try to Kiss him on sight, whether the Minister says so or not."

"Okay, so definitely in the 'not good' category," Rose remarked with a weary sigh. "I guess it was too much to have a quiet school year. First Quirrellmort, and then a Basilisk. And now, this."

"Send the letters anyway. I'll help you write them. After that, you should head to Diagon Alley via the Floo." Catriona then looked at Schrödinger. "And you could do with some new experiences."

Schrödinger couldn't dispute that. Even so, he knew that, sooner or later, he would be missed at Millennium…

Which was true enough. The Doctor was nothing like the eponymous character of a certain science fiction TV series, but he did have two things in common: an unceasing thirst for knowledge, and a name he had discarded a long time ago. He was tall, thin, with blonde hair and wearing a strange set of glasses with multiple lenses like a portable, wearable phoropter(3). And he was currently jabbing a button on an electronic device repeatedly in his workshop.

A portly man wearing an immaculate suit and with glasses watched on, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "Well, Doc? Have we managed to bring our stray kitty back?"

"No, Major. And it's not out of insolence," the Doctor said with a snarl. They were both speaking in German. "The potions I dosed him with should have responded to this. The magicals may sneer at technology for the most part, but it has its uses. No, I think somehow the potions were removed from him. Either that, or he has been captured and confined somehow. There are rituals that might be able to do so."

The Major tutted in irritation. "But we need him for our plans. True, we don't need him just yet, as we are yet to even start sending our artificial vampires into England as a prelude to our invasion, but it's best to make sure we can get him. At least we have a fair guess as to where he is: he said he was heading over to the Potter Manor for a bit. We'll have to do this discreetly, to avoid attracting the attention of Hellsing before we are ready. Well, relatively discreetly." He turned to the tall, muscled man wearing a high-collared military coat and hat. What little could be seen of his face was tanned, stern and handsome, with snow-white hair and red eyes. "Captain, would you kindly go and retrieve your wayward friend?"

The Captain nodded, but said nothing else.

"Good, I'll make the arrangements, and if he isn't back within a week, we'll send you to England to track him down. Please be discreet, my dear Captain. Especially if by some fluke Schrödinger has ended up with the Girl Who Lived. It is doubtful she will come to the Potter Manor, but even so, this is a possibility, and if Schrödinger ends up at Hogwarts, especially with the brouhaha around Sirius Black…"

The Captain once more nodded mutely. He was not only one of the few people within Millennium to actually care about Schrödinger, but he was also one of the few people who'd be able to track him. And the Captain was concerned for Schrödinger. And not just because he was missing. The Captain was perhaps the only one in Millennium to not want Schrödinger to sacrifice himself. He just hoped he could find him in time…

CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:

So, we have more from Schrödinger's POV, and some of Millennium's reaction to his disappearance. And the Captain's being sent to retrieve Schrödinger. But will he do so?

1. Coprolites, for those not in the know, are fossilised dung. So, Schrödinger is calling them both fossils and shit.

2. Klarer is a nickname for clear, cheap alcoholic spirits in Germany, particularly Korn or Doppelkorn, or some even cheaper spirits.

3. A phoropter is that thing at an optometrist's that they use to test your eyes and figure out what sort of glasses you need. I thought Doc's weird glasses were like that, so I tried tracking down what it's called. It's one of those things that, unless you're in the field, you probably don't know the name of but know what it is.