Scraped from
here.
It struck me before, and now more so after I read HPMOR, that the wizarding abilities will eventually be outpaced by Muggle technology, some things faster than others. It occurred to me even earlier that the wizard population is small to begin with, and if we assume the magical wizard gene is recessive, then they will either become heavily inbred or they will slowly lose their power (or both). It is clear to me now that my knowledge of both subjects is fuzzy and I am quite sleepy, but (in the words of the great Peter Chimaera) I decide to write anyway.
Technically speaking, it's a crossover with my original verse, though it will not be canon within it, but it's the second or third work written within it and the world is nowhere near fully developed, so it might as well be pure Harry Potter.
CHAPTER TWO: http://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/posts/998231
UCT:3805855200
(August 8, 2090)
CSV Pobedy
For what seemed like the thousandth time, Andrew Hunt's eyes flicked to the time readout displayed by his smart glasses. Still UCT:3805855200 or L:0401 depending on which format you preferred. Personally, he preferred the old school format, as it seemed more natural. Unfortunately, since it changed every time you went from ship to ship or ship to station or two sufficiently distanced locations on one planet, it was nearly useless in the grand scheme of things, something he as a journalist couldn't afford.
So, like the other six or so billion people living in a civilized place, he simply learned to live with it. Only backers kept natural schedules anymore.
Absentmindedly, his attention wandered to the view through the cafeteria windows. For someone born even a half century earlier, it would have been incredible. The surface of Jupiter appeared to take up the entire window, rapidly shifting as the
Pobedy accelerated to escape velocity. If one squinted, they could almost make out some of the Jovian moons.
But Andrew paid it no heed, since it had become routine to him. It wasn't his first spaceflight, nor his first jump flight, nor his first flypast of Jupiter. He simply sat at a two-person table on the opposite end of the compartment from the window and sipped on a pouch of Coke.
It was somewhat surprising, then, when the man he was scheduled to meet walked in appearing awestruck, and simply stopped in front of the door, staring. Andrew didn't want to offend the man whether he was the right man or a case of mistaken identity (he didn't have a good view of his face), so he simply waited.
After a moment, the man walked over and took the seat opposite the journalist, allowing him a good view of his face. He appeared to be in his twenties, maybe thirties, though it was difficult to tell in this day and age. He looked tired, with visible stubble, creases, and an explicable look of weariness, contrasting his sparkling, awe-filled eyes, not covered by glasses smart or dumb. And there was just something odd about the way he dressed.
"You're Johnathan Edwards, is correct?" Andrew asked casually. He nodded slowly. "Andrew Hunt. First jump trip?"
"First time I've been off of Earth," he replied with another nod, this one faster. "Space travel is quite a new experience for me, I'm afraid."
"It indeed is, Misr Edwards." While it was uncommon for an adult of his age to have not experienced age travel, it wasn't unheard of by any means, or even particularly rare. What was odd was his strong English accent, and his almost archaic mode of speech. Maybe he was a professor in a prestigious university, or a member of the upper class, though his demeanour and mode of dress was contrary to the latter. "What you do for a job?"
"I'm afraid that's rather difficult to explain without explaining everything else first." He paused. "And please, simply John is fine."
"Alright, John. You told what you have is large, so I'm all listening. Objections to me recording this?"
"No, in fact it is critically important that you do."
"Glass, record," A red dot and a few readouts appeared in his vision. "Terms?"
"I don't understand."
That puzzled Andrew for a moment, but he replied automatically. "Terms, you know, terms of release for the video I'm recording. Reviewable, restricted published, unrestricted published?"
"Uh... released to the world, all of it, anyone may see it. I believe that would be unrestricted."
"Correct." That definitely interested Andrew. If this man wanted himself released to the world, that meant he had something he really wanted to say. It was probably of a political or philosophical nature- and it was sure to gain some attention.
Or he was just making an elaborate lie, a high tale, a stunt to gain publicity, fame, infamy, or at least some recognition. It had happened before, even to him.
He asked conversationally, "You never told me what kind of story you wanted to tell, only that it was something that could make me famous- if you pardon my wording- and that it could redivert the course of history. Excuse me if I find that a massively bold claim."
"It is an incredible tale, and I only ask that you hear me out completely before drawing any conclusions," John explained.
"I'm all ears."
John took a deep breath, exhaled, then removed a comically old-fashioned can of
something from his jacket pocket. He popped it open with a loud hiss and took a sip. "There is an entire world, a secret world, you do not know about. Not in a literal sense, at least not always, but in a figurative sense, like a ring of organized crime, or a dark project. Except it is- or at least was- far more broad, profound, and powerful. A world completely different in appearance, attitude, perception, perspective on reality-"
He stopped and took another sip. "Forgive me, I have trouble with finding the correct words to describe what I am attempting to describe."
"Take your time."
"It is- imagine a world invisible to yours, at times completely outside your perception of reality and at times hidden in plain site. It is filled with people, people very different from you, some so far removed that it would seem as if they were from another planet. It is a world where strange creatures roam and the natural laws of the universe do not apply."
"Exactly are you talking about?"
"Magic."
