Scion's been killed and the world's been saved. Fantastic! Less fantastic: Contessa realizing she is going to spend the rest of her life dodging Legend and assassination attempts. She decides she is going to enjoy the rest of her life, even if that means starting all over again in a different world...
Felix Fortuna (Worm/HP)
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Chartic
Literally the Worst Human in the Fandom
- Location
- St. Paul
Summary: Scion's been killed and the world's been saved. Fantastic! Less fantastic: Contessa realizing she's about to spend the rest of her life dodging Legend and assassination attempts. She decides she's going to be happy, even if that means starting all over again in a different world...
A Worm crossover with Harry Potter and the Flavia de Luce series.
Author's Notes: This story is dedicated to @maroon_sweater, whose love for Contessa burns with the heat of a thousand suns.
Acknowledgements: I'd like to thank @maroon_sweater, @Pericardium, and @tearlessNever, my co-authors. They're absolutely amazing and this story wouldn't even be half as good as it is without them. An extra thank you to Babagaia, for her help consulting on the horror
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: Second Time's the Charm
Chapter 2: A Very Lonely Train Ride
Chapter 3: Sorting Out Feelings
Chapter 4: Trouble Brewing
Chapter 5: Lead, Follow, and Get Out of the Way
Chapter 6: Grand Theft Alchemy
Chapter 7: Flying Blind
Chapter 8: Malfoiled
Chapter 9: Nothing to Fear
Chapter 10: The Bogeyman
Chapter 11: A Sirius Situation
Chapter 12: Over Easy Detectives
Chapter 13: Too Young To Die(adem)
Interlude: Die(adem) Another Day
Chapter 14: Going Hog Wild
Interlude: King George the Fluff
Chapter 15: Character Assassinations
Chapter 16: Home for the Holidays
A Worm crossover with Harry Potter and the Flavia de Luce series.
Author's Notes: This story is dedicated to @maroon_sweater, whose love for Contessa burns with the heat of a thousand suns.
Acknowledgements: I'd like to thank @maroon_sweater, @Pericardium, and @tearlessNever, my co-authors. They're absolutely amazing and this story wouldn't even be half as good as it is without them. An extra thank you to Babagaia, for her help consulting on the horror
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: Second Time's the Charm
Chapter 2: A Very Lonely Train Ride
Chapter 3: Sorting Out Feelings
Chapter 4: Trouble Brewing
Chapter 5: Lead, Follow, and Get Out of the Way
Chapter 6: Grand Theft Alchemy
Chapter 7: Flying Blind
Chapter 8: Malfoiled
Chapter 9: Nothing to Fear
Chapter 10: The Bogeyman
Chapter 11: A Sirius Situation
Chapter 12: Over Easy Detectives
Chapter 13: Too Young To Die(adem)
Interlude: Die(adem) Another Day
Chapter 14: Going Hog Wild
Interlude: King George the Fluff
Chapter 15: Character Assassinations
Chapter 16: Home for the Holidays
Last edited:
Chapter 1: Second Time's the Charm
Chartic
Literally the Worst Human in the Fandom
- Location
- St. Paul
Contessa stood on the edge of the beach like an indecisive baby turtle. She'd slung her jacket over her shoulder and tilted her hat up. The wind teased her hair and ruffled her undershirt as the crest of the tide brushed the tip of her shoes.
Thirty years had passed away almost as quickly as her village had collapsed. The experiments, the planning, building networks of contacts, working with the Doctor; all of it felt so recent. So fresh. But it was over now, and it was time for her to move on.
Everything had been arranged. The portal, the body, the supplies scavenged from Cranial and Bonesaw's old workshops. She looked down at the Tinkertech device in her palm. On the surface were knobs and screws and buttons that she couldn't make sense of, but that her power could. She flipped two switches and cranked a dial all the way to the right. It thrummed in her hand and she felt as though she'd pulled the pin of a live grenade.
"The saltwater will destroy your extremely expensive custom leather shoes."
"No," Contessa replied, pocketing the tech. Behind her, the speaker strode across the loose sand. "It won't."
"We could have had this conversation somewhere easier to get to," said the Number Man as he finally reached her at the water's edge. He had rolled up his pants legs like a dork and was holding his shoes and socks in one hand, also like a dork. "I had to cancel a lunch date with Jeanne. I trust that you called me out here for something more important than catching up."
Her power told her to wait another few seconds in silence before continuing the conversation. "I'm leaving."
"We've got e-mail now. You could have sent one. 'Dear Kurt, bye. Please watch over my fern. Love, Contessa.' It would have been simpler than camping out on a beach on another earth."
"As someone with a Dali in his office, you should understand clumsy symbolic gestures."
"Fine." The Number Man wiped his glasses on the shirt. They weren't dirty; the adjustment was a subconscious acknowledgement he'd lost the conversation. "When will you be back?"
"I'm leaving."
He ceased his fidgeting. "Ah."
"And I would never give you custody of Cato. I wouldn't want him to pick up your bad taste or abominable sense of fashion."
"Am I to assume that I'm the only person you've decided to inform?"
Contessa stayed silent and Number Man sighed to himself.
"You know that no one is going to be happy about this," he said.
She knew he was already thinking of the arguments that were going to erupt the moment he revealed the woman who could do anything had chosen to abandon them.
"Won't they?" she asked. "It seems to me the powers that be don't want my help, they want me under their control or dead. Legend whines about 'containing' me to the Wardens at their directors' meeting every month. Dragon has programs running to keep an eye on me. There are four major organizations that plan to kill or capture me in the next week, and Teacher—"
Number Man pounced on this. "Jeanne and I are concerned about Teacher and the problem he poses for future stability."
"Teacher has been dealt with," she said, using her power to keep her voice perfectly neutral.
"And the students?"
Contessa adjusted her hat. "I suggest you inform the Wardens of Teacher's demise so they may deal with the cleanup."
Number Man sighed again.
She knew he was dreading having to tell Jeanne and Chevalier, how he would have to field complaints about her desertion for months to come. "Tell them over breakfast," she suggested. "If you time it correctly, Legend will choke and get coffee up his nose."
"I suppose it would be an appropriate 'goodbye' from you to give Legend one final headache to deal with."
"Nothing worse than what he gave me when he found out Cauldron wasn't skipping around planting flowers and saving puppies."
She waited for him to mount his objections. He would, despite understanding the futility of arguing with her.
"I'm not going to try to talk you out of it," Number Man said diplomatically, preparing to do precisely that. "I want you to know that Jeanne and I intend to see this through. Continue Cauldron's work. If you stayed, we'd back you to the hilt."
"Thank you. Your feelings are noted."
Contessa allowed the dismissal to fully sink in, then continued, "Scion is gone. The world is getting better and will get even better under Jeanne's guidance. I am no longer necessary."
"I understand why you're doing this," he said, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "But we will have some very awkward conversations with the Wardens for the next year."
"It will be awkward, but I deemed this the least troublesome way to tell everyone." She paused. "Thank you."
"Of course. I'll just say you decided to nap on a beach for the foreseeable future," he said, and reaffixed his glasses. "Although I doubt this will keep anyone from trying to find you."
"They can try. They'll fail."
"And were you planning on telling me how exactly you're doing this?"
Contessa mentally stumbled. She consulted her power. It let her know that she would not put Number Man or Citrine in real danger if she shared the minor details of her plot with him. The only person insane enough to fight a heavily fortified city and simultaneously destabilize the financial markets of all earths at once for a hint at her whereabouts was dead in a pool of his own piss. Anybody else he told wouldn't believe him anyway.
"There are still worlds left unaccounted for. Worlds Scion didn't even touch. Safe havens where humanity was kept completely clueless about what was happening. One girl among billions won't stick out. And I am very good at avoiding notice."
"One girl?"
"One woman."
The awkward little shuffle that accompanied her words didn't convince him it was a slip of the tongue.
"That would explain Panacea's recent trips from her father's territory."
Contessa didn't deign to comment on his speculation, and he didn't provide more. She checked and Number Man was silently imagining how she would look and act as a child. She managed to contain the urge to deck him.
Number Man waited an appropriate amount of time before ruining the conversation. "The world could still use someone like you."
"Perhaps I don't want to be used."
"Perhaps not," he said. "But perhaps you believe another world could use someone like you more."
She scowled at the sea. "I plan to have a normal childhood this time."
"Whatever it is you plan on doing, enjoy it. You've more than earned it." Number Man turned to her for the first time in the conversation, his mouth set in a frown and his eyes dull even as he offered a hand. "I suppose this is goodbye."
She took his hand, pulling him towards her. He reluctantly put one arm around her, and she grabbed his other arm and forced him to give her a proper hug. "Goodbye, Kurt."
"Goodbye, Contessa. Good luck, wherever you may find yourself."
"Have a nice life."
She released him and watched him go, heading up over the dunes until he disappeared behind one. Her fingers traced the device in her pocket.
"Good luck," she murmured.
Contessa pressed the final button and everything went black.
--------
Fortuna woke up.
She lay in bed staring at the wall, somewhat conscious but lacking the will to actually get up. It had been one of those dreams again. Herself and a man, talking. Fragments stuck out to her: the water on her shoes, her irritation, the hug at the end. The harder she tried to remember, the faster the memory faded: the man's appearance grew fuzzy and the conversation dissolved into white noise. Eventually, it was gone, leaving only the vaguest sense a dream had occurred.
The only memories that ever stayed were the bad ones.
Her roommate, Ash, had gone downstairs already. She rolled out from under the sheets and fell over the side of her bed, landing in a crouch. It had only taken one time landing on Ash that she checked with her power every time before doing it.
The attic was cramped, occupied by a bunk bed, two cabinets, a hanging rack, and four stacks of boxes. The Simmonses hadn't cleaned anything out when they'd put their first orphan up there, and had deemed it good enough for their second as well. It was tight living, but not painfully so.
She checked what she needed to know right now. Her family was awake, breakfast wasn't ready, and there was a strange woman visiting today. Fortuna asked and found that, yes, it would be fine to wear her Princess Luna hand-me-down sweater and faded black pajama pants. She grabbed her hat from the bedpost and was putting it on when one of her foster brothers, Max, poked his head in.
"You up? Mr. Simmons says there's someone downstairs for you."
"Okay."
As he disappeared down the ladder, she straightened her fedora in the mirror. The hat was crisp and clean, without the usual creases and tears that blemished the hand-me-down clothes she and her siblings wore. Once she was satisfied, she touched her pocket knife. It had never left her side and never would; it was better to be safe than sorry.
She popped the attic door open and climbed down the ladder onto the second floor. The Simmonses' house was a mess of bodies, furniture, and possessions. They had adopted seven orphans over the years in a house that was barely big enough for four and had accumulated the belongings and clutter of ten. The hallway was lined with doors, some open, some shut, but all filled to the brim.
Fortuna weaved between Sam and Kris, the two seven-year olds who were the latest additions to their family, playing tag in the hallway, and skipped over piles of discarded toys and dirty laundry. When she reached the staircase, she could see her foster father making conversation with an older woman at the bottom.
Fortuna clasped the handrail and launched herself over to land gracefully on the floor below.
Mr. Simmons was a man with a body like a bowling ball and a head like a bowling pin. His face was bright red most days from running after children to keep them out of trouble. It was bright red now, as he startled at her sudden appearance.
"I really wish you wouldn't do that," he told her for what must have been the hundredth time.
Fortuna didn't respond, instead looking expectantly between the two adults.
He shook his head and gave up that battle. "Fortuna, this woman works at a boarding school in Scotland. They noticed your test scores and think you'd be a good fit."
It came as no surprise that her academics had garnered interest—she'd been getting straight As in her classes ever since that first teacher had put that first pencil in her hand and asked her to shade bubbles. She'd understood only half of the questions, but her power had filled in the rest.
"Good morning, Miss Floris. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Professor McGonagall, one of the teachers at Hogwarts."
This woman was tall, even for an adult. She looked like an extra on Downton Abbey, one whose prolonged exposure to subpar storytelling had worn her down like sandpaper. She had the type of dress that looked forty years out of style—but with how old she appeared, may have just been bought when it was fashionable.
McGonagall extended her hand and Fortuna gave it a firm shake. It was important to make a good first impression. McGonagall reached into her pocket and produced a thick envelope sealed with wax and handed it to her.
Fortuna looked down at the address.
Ms. F Floris. The Attic. 107 Bassett Street. Fulbourn. Cambridgeshire.
They knew that she lived in the attic? Fortuna glanced up at the Professor, who had a reserved smile on her face.
"Hogwarts has produced some of the greatest talents of this generation, Ms. Floris, and it would be a pleasure to have you grace our halls in September. I'm hoping you'll allow me to discuss what Hogwarts could offer someone with your talents."
"Sounds like a great opportunity," Mr. Simmons butted in. He paused. "It would be good to have the extra space and one less mouth to feed. Oh, but I don't want to be the one making that decision for you."
She could take a hint.
A crash came from upstairs, and Mr. Simmons winced. "It's all up to you," he emphasized.
"If there's something you need to take care of, I would be happy to speak alone with Ms. Floris," McGonagall said. "We'll need to discuss some of the things that make Hogwarts unique, as well as why she was chosen and what her studies would cover. It's a big decision to be made at her age and it will take some time to go over everything."
With a hasty thank you, Mr. Simmons hurried away, and the two women were left alone. Fortuna had barely noticed the end of that conversation. She'd asked three questions after being handed the letter. What did the school teach? Magic. Really? Yes. Would she be happy if she went?
Yes.
"Would you like to move somewhere more comfortable?" McGonagall asked.
"Yes," Fortuna said, "I would like that very much."
Thirty years had passed away almost as quickly as her village had collapsed. The experiments, the planning, building networks of contacts, working with the Doctor; all of it felt so recent. So fresh. But it was over now, and it was time for her to move on.
Everything had been arranged. The portal, the body, the supplies scavenged from Cranial and Bonesaw's old workshops. She looked down at the Tinkertech device in her palm. On the surface were knobs and screws and buttons that she couldn't make sense of, but that her power could. She flipped two switches and cranked a dial all the way to the right. It thrummed in her hand and she felt as though she'd pulled the pin of a live grenade.
"The saltwater will destroy your extremely expensive custom leather shoes."
"No," Contessa replied, pocketing the tech. Behind her, the speaker strode across the loose sand. "It won't."
"We could have had this conversation somewhere easier to get to," said the Number Man as he finally reached her at the water's edge. He had rolled up his pants legs like a dork and was holding his shoes and socks in one hand, also like a dork. "I had to cancel a lunch date with Jeanne. I trust that you called me out here for something more important than catching up."
Her power told her to wait another few seconds in silence before continuing the conversation. "I'm leaving."
"We've got e-mail now. You could have sent one. 'Dear Kurt, bye. Please watch over my fern. Love, Contessa.' It would have been simpler than camping out on a beach on another earth."
"As someone with a Dali in his office, you should understand clumsy symbolic gestures."
"Fine." The Number Man wiped his glasses on the shirt. They weren't dirty; the adjustment was a subconscious acknowledgement he'd lost the conversation. "When will you be back?"
"I'm leaving."
He ceased his fidgeting. "Ah."
"And I would never give you custody of Cato. I wouldn't want him to pick up your bad taste or abominable sense of fashion."
"Am I to assume that I'm the only person you've decided to inform?"
Contessa stayed silent and Number Man sighed to himself.
"You know that no one is going to be happy about this," he said.
She knew he was already thinking of the arguments that were going to erupt the moment he revealed the woman who could do anything had chosen to abandon them.
"Won't they?" she asked. "It seems to me the powers that be don't want my help, they want me under their control or dead. Legend whines about 'containing' me to the Wardens at their directors' meeting every month. Dragon has programs running to keep an eye on me. There are four major organizations that plan to kill or capture me in the next week, and Teacher—"
Number Man pounced on this. "Jeanne and I are concerned about Teacher and the problem he poses for future stability."
"Teacher has been dealt with," she said, using her power to keep her voice perfectly neutral.
"And the students?"
Contessa adjusted her hat. "I suggest you inform the Wardens of Teacher's demise so they may deal with the cleanup."
Number Man sighed again.
She knew he was dreading having to tell Jeanne and Chevalier, how he would have to field complaints about her desertion for months to come. "Tell them over breakfast," she suggested. "If you time it correctly, Legend will choke and get coffee up his nose."
"I suppose it would be an appropriate 'goodbye' from you to give Legend one final headache to deal with."
"Nothing worse than what he gave me when he found out Cauldron wasn't skipping around planting flowers and saving puppies."
She waited for him to mount his objections. He would, despite understanding the futility of arguing with her.
"I'm not going to try to talk you out of it," Number Man said diplomatically, preparing to do precisely that. "I want you to know that Jeanne and I intend to see this through. Continue Cauldron's work. If you stayed, we'd back you to the hilt."
"Thank you. Your feelings are noted."
Contessa allowed the dismissal to fully sink in, then continued, "Scion is gone. The world is getting better and will get even better under Jeanne's guidance. I am no longer necessary."
"I understand why you're doing this," he said, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "But we will have some very awkward conversations with the Wardens for the next year."
"It will be awkward, but I deemed this the least troublesome way to tell everyone." She paused. "Thank you."
"Of course. I'll just say you decided to nap on a beach for the foreseeable future," he said, and reaffixed his glasses. "Although I doubt this will keep anyone from trying to find you."
"They can try. They'll fail."
"And were you planning on telling me how exactly you're doing this?"
Contessa mentally stumbled. She consulted her power. It let her know that she would not put Number Man or Citrine in real danger if she shared the minor details of her plot with him. The only person insane enough to fight a heavily fortified city and simultaneously destabilize the financial markets of all earths at once for a hint at her whereabouts was dead in a pool of his own piss. Anybody else he told wouldn't believe him anyway.
"There are still worlds left unaccounted for. Worlds Scion didn't even touch. Safe havens where humanity was kept completely clueless about what was happening. One girl among billions won't stick out. And I am very good at avoiding notice."
"One girl?"
"One woman."
The awkward little shuffle that accompanied her words didn't convince him it was a slip of the tongue.
"That would explain Panacea's recent trips from her father's territory."
Contessa didn't deign to comment on his speculation, and he didn't provide more. She checked and Number Man was silently imagining how she would look and act as a child. She managed to contain the urge to deck him.
Number Man waited an appropriate amount of time before ruining the conversation. "The world could still use someone like you."
"Perhaps I don't want to be used."
"Perhaps not," he said. "But perhaps you believe another world could use someone like you more."
She scowled at the sea. "I plan to have a normal childhood this time."
"Whatever it is you plan on doing, enjoy it. You've more than earned it." Number Man turned to her for the first time in the conversation, his mouth set in a frown and his eyes dull even as he offered a hand. "I suppose this is goodbye."
She took his hand, pulling him towards her. He reluctantly put one arm around her, and she grabbed his other arm and forced him to give her a proper hug. "Goodbye, Kurt."
"Goodbye, Contessa. Good luck, wherever you may find yourself."
"Have a nice life."
She released him and watched him go, heading up over the dunes until he disappeared behind one. Her fingers traced the device in her pocket.
"Good luck," she murmured.
Contessa pressed the final button and everything went black.
--------
Fortuna woke up.
She lay in bed staring at the wall, somewhat conscious but lacking the will to actually get up. It had been one of those dreams again. Herself and a man, talking. Fragments stuck out to her: the water on her shoes, her irritation, the hug at the end. The harder she tried to remember, the faster the memory faded: the man's appearance grew fuzzy and the conversation dissolved into white noise. Eventually, it was gone, leaving only the vaguest sense a dream had occurred.
The only memories that ever stayed were the bad ones.
Her roommate, Ash, had gone downstairs already. She rolled out from under the sheets and fell over the side of her bed, landing in a crouch. It had only taken one time landing on Ash that she checked with her power every time before doing it.
The attic was cramped, occupied by a bunk bed, two cabinets, a hanging rack, and four stacks of boxes. The Simmonses hadn't cleaned anything out when they'd put their first orphan up there, and had deemed it good enough for their second as well. It was tight living, but not painfully so.
She checked what she needed to know right now. Her family was awake, breakfast wasn't ready, and there was a strange woman visiting today. Fortuna asked and found that, yes, it would be fine to wear her Princess Luna hand-me-down sweater and faded black pajama pants. She grabbed her hat from the bedpost and was putting it on when one of her foster brothers, Max, poked his head in.
"You up? Mr. Simmons says there's someone downstairs for you."
"Okay."
As he disappeared down the ladder, she straightened her fedora in the mirror. The hat was crisp and clean, without the usual creases and tears that blemished the hand-me-down clothes she and her siblings wore. Once she was satisfied, she touched her pocket knife. It had never left her side and never would; it was better to be safe than sorry.
She popped the attic door open and climbed down the ladder onto the second floor. The Simmonses' house was a mess of bodies, furniture, and possessions. They had adopted seven orphans over the years in a house that was barely big enough for four and had accumulated the belongings and clutter of ten. The hallway was lined with doors, some open, some shut, but all filled to the brim.
Fortuna weaved between Sam and Kris, the two seven-year olds who were the latest additions to their family, playing tag in the hallway, and skipped over piles of discarded toys and dirty laundry. When she reached the staircase, she could see her foster father making conversation with an older woman at the bottom.
Fortuna clasped the handrail and launched herself over to land gracefully on the floor below.
Mr. Simmons was a man with a body like a bowling ball and a head like a bowling pin. His face was bright red most days from running after children to keep them out of trouble. It was bright red now, as he startled at her sudden appearance.
"I really wish you wouldn't do that," he told her for what must have been the hundredth time.
Fortuna didn't respond, instead looking expectantly between the two adults.
He shook his head and gave up that battle. "Fortuna, this woman works at a boarding school in Scotland. They noticed your test scores and think you'd be a good fit."
It came as no surprise that her academics had garnered interest—she'd been getting straight As in her classes ever since that first teacher had put that first pencil in her hand and asked her to shade bubbles. She'd understood only half of the questions, but her power had filled in the rest.
"Good morning, Miss Floris. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Professor McGonagall, one of the teachers at Hogwarts."
This woman was tall, even for an adult. She looked like an extra on Downton Abbey, one whose prolonged exposure to subpar storytelling had worn her down like sandpaper. She had the type of dress that looked forty years out of style—but with how old she appeared, may have just been bought when it was fashionable.
McGonagall extended her hand and Fortuna gave it a firm shake. It was important to make a good first impression. McGonagall reached into her pocket and produced a thick envelope sealed with wax and handed it to her.
Fortuna looked down at the address.
Ms. F Floris. The Attic. 107 Bassett Street. Fulbourn. Cambridgeshire.
They knew that she lived in the attic? Fortuna glanced up at the Professor, who had a reserved smile on her face.
"Hogwarts has produced some of the greatest talents of this generation, Ms. Floris, and it would be a pleasure to have you grace our halls in September. I'm hoping you'll allow me to discuss what Hogwarts could offer someone with your talents."
"Sounds like a great opportunity," Mr. Simmons butted in. He paused. "It would be good to have the extra space and one less mouth to feed. Oh, but I don't want to be the one making that decision for you."
She could take a hint.
A crash came from upstairs, and Mr. Simmons winced. "It's all up to you," he emphasized.
"If there's something you need to take care of, I would be happy to speak alone with Ms. Floris," McGonagall said. "We'll need to discuss some of the things that make Hogwarts unique, as well as why she was chosen and what her studies would cover. It's a big decision to be made at her age and it will take some time to go over everything."
With a hasty thank you, Mr. Simmons hurried away, and the two women were left alone. Fortuna had barely noticed the end of that conversation. She'd asked three questions after being handed the letter. What did the school teach? Magic. Really? Yes. Would she be happy if she went?
Yes.
"Would you like to move somewhere more comfortable?" McGonagall asked.
"Yes," Fortuna said, "I would like that very much."
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Jonn Wolfe
(Verified Sarcastic) (Not a Wolf)
- Location
- Beyond Sanity Since 1971
This shows a lot of promise. Inspired by A Wand(1) for Skitter(2)?
PtV v/s Riddle. This should be good.
PtV v/s Riddle. This should be good.
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- Location
- Australia
So does she still have P2V? Because it sounds like she just made a smoltessa and moved her consciousness into it which doesn't strictly mean she has her power still.
Abao
Le Halpful One
- Location
- Theocracy of Derpism
Sounds like she still have it, though the interpretation of how it works looks different than my head canon, from what little we've seen as of yet.
Unseelie
(Verified True Fae)
- Location
- Tír fo Thuinn
I just assumed she only used part of her power as to not make her life boring.
Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
-
So the device sealed off her memories to only come in gradually over time?
I have to say, this section here was perfect. Even if she wasn't pre-powers Contessa, Contessa and Fortuna are distinct, and going back to Fortuna is Big.
FalseDead
Consuming Fear
- Location
- Boatmurdered
Omake: Wand for Skitter Fortuna
Sitting next to Luna on the train to school had been an experience, thought Fortuna to herself.
The blond girl who had sat next to her had chattered away at her about creatures and conspiracies that she was largely sure did not exist, though she made encouraging noises and asked questions all the same...She almost imagined this was what having a real friend was like.
Now however she had to actually finish Path to Making Friends and that required her to be sorted to...
"and you didn't even listen to me.... how focused! in that case it had better be Slytherin!"
Now here path required her to stride exactly 30 steps down the table to the second year student sitting by alone and say
"My, my Taylor Hebert, I haven't seen you since I blew your brains out."
Wait what?! WHAT?!
Sitting next to Luna on the train to school had been an experience, thought Fortuna to herself.
The blond girl who had sat next to her had chattered away at her about creatures and conspiracies that she was largely sure did not exist, though she made encouraging noises and asked questions all the same...She almost imagined this was what having a real friend was like.
Now however she had to actually finish Path to Making Friends and that required her to be sorted to...
"and you didn't even listen to me.... how focused! in that case it had better be Slytherin!"
Now here path required her to stride exactly 30 steps down the table to the second year student sitting by alone and say
"My, my Taylor Hebert, I haven't seen you since I blew your brains out."
Wait what?! WHAT?!
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Tin Mother
(Verified Human)
- Location
- Here
- Pronouns
- She/Hers
I would actually quite like to read more of this... Would you consider making it more than a one-shot omake?
Edit: At the very least consider cross posting it to the "Wand for Skitter" thread as well.
This looks fun.
Chapter 2: A Very Lonely Train Ride
Chartic
Literally the Worst Human in the Fandom
- Location
- St. Paul
Trigger Warning: Violence and body horror. If you're uncomfortable with that, please skip the italicized section.
The Simmonses were apologetic but clear: they didn't have the time to take her to King's Cross. Mrs. Simmons gave her a crumpled five-pound note for the bus and a pat on the head for good luck, and Mr. Simmons moved her belongings to the front porch before Fortuna could point out that five pounds would not take her the sixty miles to London.
Max, Kris, and Sam were sitting on the worn-out couch watching television as she followed their guardian out.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked. The others' heads turned towards her.
"I'm leaving for school," she said. After a moment, she added, "I'm not going to come back for a while."
"Oh, okay."
They all turned back to the TV. Fortuna stood waiting for them to say goodbye and only moved after Mr. Simmons asked, "Did you forget something?"
The door shut behind her and she stood on the porch, surrounded by all her worldly belongings. She used her power to balance a duffel bag on top of a pet carrier sitting on her trunk without spilling it all and tottered to the end of the sidewalk before turning back for one final look.
The house was a hideous off-white, with paint peeling off the side panels and long-forgotten toys peeking out of the patches of overgrown weeds. She felt as much of a stranger here as when she had arrived three years ago, soaking wet in the rain and utterly alone.
There was a bus stop down the street, and she had to get there early in case there were any issues with the notoriously unreliable public transit system and her lack of funds. When she placed her baggage on the ground by the sign, she found that the bus schedules posted were a confusing, jumbled mess of numbers and times, so she asked herself for the quickest bus to the train station.
One step: hold out her wand.
The magic bus that came trundling down the road was a surprise, but a welcome one. The inside was a little odd, filled with tables and chairs instead of benches, but at least the people inside weren't any different from non-magic ones. Vagrants sat around muttering to themselves, men in dress clothes ignored everything except their papers, and the driver sat at the front driving haphazardly and jabbering away.
The difference was in the details. When the vagrants talked to themselves, something answered. The men wore robes instead of suits, and the papers had pictures that moved about like the television. This driver didn't bother the paying passengers and instead traded quips with a talking head that hung from the mirror.
Then the bus took off, careening its way through the countryside, and Fortuna had to use her power to stay put in her seat. This didn't stop her kitten from waking up and yowling his displeasure, and several of the other passengers shot her dirty looks.
She ignored them and reached through the bars of the carrier to scritch his ears. The Hogwarts orphaned witches fund had only enough to cover what she needed without any frivolous extras, but while walking past the pet store, she'd just happened to catch sight of a little gray kitten looking out of the window.
There had been plenty of other kittens, but they were sleeping snuggled up together or playing with each other. This one had been sitting by itself off to one side. When they'd made eye contact, the kitty had stood up, wobbling on unsure legs, and flattened its nose against the glass.
Fortuna had forced McGonagall to stop while she argued with her power. She'd asked if she should get a cat and the answer was no. The second, slightly modified question told her the same. The third, fourth, and fifth were no different. It was the ninth question that had finally yielded a yes, with dozens of extra steps than she'd have followed otherwise.
One of the steps was buying a cheap used trunk, slightly too small for Hogwarts' extensive list of books and potion materials, so she could afford the kitten. In fact, the only new thing she'd purchased was her wand—beech, dragon heartstring, eight inches long, reasonably supple. Ollivander had called it a wand of great power and artistry, but warned that it could easily be turned to dark magic. His words had made her uneasy, so she decided to put the wand in the same category as the other weapon she carried. It was too long to fit in the same pocket as her knife, so she stuck it in the back pocket of her slacks.
Looking out the window was a recipe for motion sickness, so she devoted her attention to soothing her cat. When they arrived at King's Cross, she thanked the driver sincerely when she got off and he smiled, laughed, and told her to come back any time.
She promised she would as soon as she got the opportunity, though she wasn't sure that was altogether true.
The train station had no Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. It did have trolleys, so Fortuna wheeled her stuff around to avoid looking like an overburdened porter. She led herself to a solid, brick wall and asked if it was really a good idea to run face-first into it. Instead of suffering a permanent brain injury, she went straight through and found herself in a hidden station, with a red train sitting dormant on the tracks.
She was the only person there besides a man sweeping away rubbish. He gave her a strange look and went back to his work. Fortuna asked where everyone else was and realized it was only eight o'clock. She'd arrived several hours too early.
She went on board and got a compartment for herself—the best one, no one was there to say no. Once she placed her kitty-carrier to her side and secured her trunk in the luggage rack, she dove into her duffel to retrieve one of the medieval mystery novels she'd crammed among her clothes and other non-magical belongings.
A Morbid Taste for Bones was second-hand, and the pages were worn and yellowed. She had gotten halfway through before Ash had told her to "turn that bloody light off." Her mind had been awhirl all through the night and during breakfast, and it had taken a monumental effort not to cheat and ask her power who'd done it.
By the time she reached the end, the first groups of people had begun to trickle onto the platform, all of them in bunches—happy families with proud parents and kids excited to start another year of schooling. She used her power to check on her foster family and discovered that Lee had occupied her bunk within fifteen minutes of her departure.
When she was thirty pages into One Corpse Too Many, a boy her age opened the door. His hair was sandy and elegantly styled, and he wore glasses a bit too large for his face. He sat down across from her and introduced himself.
"Candidus," he said, presenting his hand. "Candidus Craven."
She finished her paragraph before returning his greeting. He settled back and started going through a book of his own, and they amicably ignored each other.
It didn't take long before the door opened again and a girl poked her head in.
"Hey, you bagging that seat?" she asked, gesturing to the empty space next to Candidus, who set his book down.
"Be my guest," Candidus said.
"Cheers!"
The girl hefted a heavy trunk into the carriage. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a neon green scrunchie, and the sleeves on her bright orange tracksuit were rolled back to show off her prominent muscles. Despite its weight, she lifted the trunk with ease and set it on one of the racks above them, before addressing Fortuna.
"Jesus Christ, you alright? You look paler than a mother in a morgue."
"What?" Fortuna asked, working through the girl's comment.
"Hah! Just having a laugh, mate. Name's Jessica," she said, turning to Candidus and patting his shoulder a bit too roughly.
"Candidus," the boy replied with a grimace, wiping where she had touched him.
Jessica turned to Fortuna. "And you?"
"I'm For—"
The door shot open and a harried girl stood in the entrance. "Got room for one more?"
Jessica nodded and the girl scurried in, slamming the door shut. Candidus winced at the sound, but she was too occupied shoving her truck into a corner to notice. She flopped down next to Fortuna, who barely had enough time to pull her kitty carrier onto her lap.
"Sorry!" she exclaimed. "Everywhere else is just packed! But at least you're the first group of people I've seen not wearing something ridiculous. Angelique, by the way."
"I'm Candidus, Candidus Craven," the boy said with a mock-bow.
"You can call me Jessica," Jessica said, shaking the girl's hand and the rest of her with it.
"Wow," Angelique gushed, "you're pretty strong!"
"Strong enough to whack a sailor!" Jessica said with a hearty laugh.
Angelique stood up and started squeezing the larger girl's arm. "What's the story there?"
"My pop's a bodybuilder, right? He makes sure I don't slack off." She deepened her voice in obvious imitation of the man. "'I don't care if you're a bird or not, you're gonna learn to lift a weight.'"
"I can see that! Do you think you could carry someone?"
As a matter of fact, Jessica thought that she could. She sprang up and the smaller girl latched onto her arm, swinging around like a monkey. Fortuna asked herself if she should be doing that and received a firm no in reply. She lunged forward and blocked Angelique from kicking Candidus in the face.
Angelique groaned in disappointment as Jessica set her down, then blinked when she realized she didn't recognize who had swatted her foot. "Where did you come from!"
"Here," Fortuna said.
"Oh my goodness," Angelique said, flopping down in her seat, "I'm so sorry! I didn't even realize you were there."
Fortuna sat back down and hugged her cat's carrier to her chest. "I'm Fortuna."
Angelique leaned forward and looked around the carriage with conspiratorial eyes. "So, are you all… you know, normal?"
Jessica's smile hitched at the comment and Candidus had a sour look on his face.
"My foster parents have never thought so," Fortuna replied.
The atmosphere in the car suddenly became tense. Fortuna looked from person to person, but they were all avoiding her eyes.
Except for Angelique. She sprang up to hug Fortuna but just as her feet hit the floor, the train lurched. Angelique squeaked as she tumbled sideways into Jessica.
"Oh!" she said, scrambling off of her. "I'm so sorry!"
"I'm fine," Jessica said. She rubbed her own ribs gingerly. "These bones could dent steel."
She stood up and helped the excitable girl to her feet. The gesture was partly kindness and partly to hide the tears forming in her eyes.
Angelique sat down and refocused the conversation. "What I meant was, is your family magical?"
Fortuna thought about it. Only a few brief moments had managed to weather the event that had taken the majority of her memories and made her an orphan. Her mother's face smiling down at her. Her father teaching her how to milk a goat. A small cottage with a garden. "No, I don't think they were," she replied.
"Mine neither," Jessica said.
"My family's magical line can be traced fairly far back," Candidus said. "Not that it matters," he added before launching into a tale about how his grandfather was the minister of magic over a hundred years ago and all the wonderful things he had done.
Candidus apparently had an entire encyclopedia of wizarding government trivia memorized, which he shared until interrupted by a woman selling candy. Fortuna didn't bother looking up from the book she'd discreetly picked up about three minutes into the impromptu lecture; forgoing the cash to buy sweets was one of the prices her kitten came with.
As Candidus's story wound down, she finished the last few pages and stashed her book away in the duffel bag. The others had been so caught up in his tale, they hadn't even noticed her reading.
Angelique started cooing at her kitten.
"Aren't you a sweet little kitty? Yes you are, yes you are. What's your name?"
"Harbinger," Fortuna said with a frown. Harbinger was much too dignified to be spoken to in a baby voice.
Angelique squinted at her. "Harbinger is a silly name for a cat."
"It isn't," Fortuna said, booping him on the nose.
He swatted at the offending finger, but she pulled away before he could scratch her.
"My mother never let me have a pet." Angelique held her own fingers out for Harbinger to sniff. "She's always worried about it peeing all over her rug, or getting hair on her clothes, or eating her expensive earrings."
"My owl will meet me at Hogwarts," Candidus said. The three of them looked expectantly at Jessica.
"I've got a toad," Jessica said, leaning forward as though she were about to share a secret. "I call her 'mum.'"
Angelique didn't get the joke, and changed the subject. "Let Harby out," she demanded, brandishing a box of sweets in Fortuna's face. "I want to see him chase these sugar mice."
After checking with her power to make sure Harbinger would be okay, Fortuna placed the carrier on the floor and released him.
Instead of evincing any interest in the candy Angelique spilled over the floor, he jumped into Fortuna's lap and fell asleep.
Angelique grumbled. Sugar mice squeaked and scuttled around her shoes.
"It's because you called him Harby," Fortuna said.
"Well, that was a disappointment. And a waste of good sweets." Candidus reached into his bookbag and withdrew a decorated wooden box. "Chess, anyone?"
Jessica took him up on the challenge, and the game commenced. Angelique chattered the entire time, alternating between commentary and embellished recounts of every game she'd lost, which was also every game she'd ever played.
Fortuna watched in silence as Candidus won three games. "Castle queen's side," she advised Jessica a few moves into their fourth game. With a few well-timed tips—don't sacrifice that pawn, take that bishop with your knight, move your queen there—she guided Jessica to victory.
"Easy to sit back and give advice," Candidus said resentfully, as his king threw down his crown at the feet of Jessica's rook. "How about you play? Unless you're afraid of losing."
Fortuna passed Harbinger's carrier over to Angelique and pulled the chessboard between herself and Candidus. He offered her first and she took it happily. Knight out first, then pawn, then rook. As the midgame developed, it became clear Candidus was trying to take her queen, so she let him. He sacrificed a castle, both knights and a bishop just for her queen and set himself completely out of position. She had him in checkmate eight moves later.
Then, when she tried to return to her books, he demanded a rematch. The pieces reset themselves and this time he claimed white as 'loser's right.' This game was longer, as he sat for minutes at a time thinking through every one of his moves. She checked every now and then to be sure that he was actually planning and not just trying to annoy her.
At some point during the second game, a prefect came by to advise them to change into their robes. Angelique fell asleep halfway through their fourth game. She probably should have eased up on him, but he had called her a coward.
Finally, after his sixth consecutive defeat, Candidus slumped back. "How are you doing this?"
"I see what move you're going to make, then I make a move to counter it before you do it," Fortuna replied. "Then when you counter the move I made, I counter the counter to the move until you don't have any more pieces on the board. And then, you lose."
Candidus crossed his arms and turned to the window, sulking.
"I don't get it either, but you're dead talented," Jessica said.
"Thank you," Fortuna said. She glanced at Candidus. "But Candidus is a great player. I'm just lucky that he isn't noticing the patterns I use."
"Thanks," Candidus said, unbending a little. "Sorry, I just play chess with my dad all the time and even he can't beat me this bad."
"Maybe I'm just using different techniques."
"Maybe."
The train shook as it began to slow down.
"Hey, Angelique, wake up. I think we're getting close," Jessica said, tapping the small girl with her shoe.
"Huh? Already?" Angelique looked around, confused.
Suddenly the driver slammed on the brakes, throwing Fortuna back in her seat, Angelique into Jessica, Candidus into a trunk, and set all their belongings shaking where they were stashed. Harbinger woke up and began meowing, clearly offended at the interruption.
Angelique peered out the window from her new position on the floor. "So… are we there yet?"
Fortuna asked her power. "No, we aren't."
"Then what's going on?"
Her power informed her that the train was letting on guards that had been assigned by the government, and that they would all be searched. She spent a few seconds trying to think of how to explain what was happening and how she knew what was happening before responding. "I don't know."
The torches inside the train dimmed. They couldn't see anything through the windows. The sky was a murky sea of black, and their carriage was silent save for the relentless drumming of rain on glass. The air quickly became cold, so cold that rain turned to sleet and the windows frosted over and their breath emerged in clouds.
Angelique startled at a shape she saw through the train window, and Fortuna leapt to her feet as someone started screaming.
"Who is doing that?" she asked.
Everyone looked at her, too afraid to respond.
She pulled her knife. I want to know—
The compartment door slid open. A shadow shrouded in rags leaned in, suspended in midair. It turned to her. She watched, transfixed, as it slowly lifted its rotting fingers and peeled its hood back.
Beneath it was the bloody, dead-eyed face of her mother. A glob of skin and muscle slipped loose from her cheek and slopped down the front of its robes.
"No," Fortuna whispered. "No, no—"
"No!" Her mother shoved her towards the back of the house. "Get out of here. Run."
She couldn't move. A creature, a tumor in the shape of a man—fleshy and gelatinous, with deformed limbs protruding at random from its mass and diseased yellow boils sprouting from its arms, legs and face—stood in what remained of their doorway. Her father was trying to beat it back with a staff, but it didn't seem to even notice the blows.
It lunged forward, puncturing her father's throat with one swipe of a talon. A splash of blood slapped against her face. Its metallic taste filled her mouth.
Fortuna recoiled from the creature in rags, but there wasn't anywhere to go. "I want to escape," she thought, but her power failed her for the first time in her life. An alien gray fog billowed across her sight.
Her mother finally seized her arm and pulled her away. She blinked her father's blood out of her eyes in time to see his legs being ripped from his torso. Her mother opened the back door, hurrying Fortuna out, but another monster smashed into them.
Her mother tumbled almost halfway down the slope. Fortuna skidded across the grass, stopping only a few yards away. The monster that had hit them lurched forward on five disjointed limbs. Its body, long and narrow like stretched dough, was covered in chitinous scales. Viscous slime oozed and dripped from the cracks, sizzling when it hit the ground.
"What am I seeing?" Fortuna asked herself urgently, willing the fog to clear. "What is this?"
"Forta," her mother begged as she dragged her broken body across the ground. "Please, Forta, run."
The beast advanced on her mother, but Fortuna remained still. She lay watching as it reared over her mother and disgorged a torrent of slime over her prone body. The air soon burned with the sulfurous reek of rancid meat. Her mother started screaming a second later. She thrashed violently as the goo liquefied fabric, flesh and bone, but the creature pinned her down.
Fortuna's chest tightened and she breathed faster and faster, unable to get enough air. I want to make this stop. Her power continued to be useless.
Two hands grabbed her from behind.
"Fortuna! We have to go!" her uncle yelled, shaking her.
When she didn't get up, he hauled her up himself and slung her over his shoulder. He stumbled forward, trying to put distance between them and the beast even with his game leg. She could only watch as her mother dissolved into an unrecognizable welter.
Her mother's shrieks turned to gurgles. The beast hinged its jaw and locked eyes with Fortuna.
She recognized the face that stared back, underneath the chitin and frenzy. It was the face of her best friend. The tears trickling down her cheeks drew valleys in her parents' blood.
Fortuna leaned against the door, her breath coming out in labored gasps. She smashed a hand against the window, unsure if it was really there. "Mama," she whispered.
"Fortuna?"
She spun on her heel and pointed her knife, asking her power how to disable the threat. The fog finally dissipated, revealing one step: listen.
"Oi, you nutty bint. Put that thing away before you shiv someone," something yelled at her, waving its arms.
She took a second to recognize the faces that surrounded her belonged to scared children, and another to recognize them as her classmates.
Fortuna grabbed the empty cat carrier from the floor and thrust it between her and the rest of the compartment, dodging Angelique's flailing attempts at a hug. She threw herself into the corner between the edge of her seat and the wall beneath the window, pulled her legs to her chest, and sobbed.
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Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
-
Oh hey she got a memory back 
Abao
Le Halpful One
- Location
- Theocracy of Derpism
A bit disappointed that PtV was beaten this easily. First how to escape question could be argued to be a wrong question, but the second and third question sounds like it just bugged out.
To be fair it's supposedly extrapolating using the entity's knowledge bank, and dementors may be something unencountered before, but if you take that explanation, until Fortuna help the shard gather a unreasonable amount of information on the magic, PtV is going to be useless in this world, AND the earlier part about holding out a wand for the bus shouldn't have happened anyway.
To be fair it's supposedly extrapolating using the entity's knowledge bank, and dementors may be something unencountered before, but if you take that explanation, until Fortuna help the shard gather a unreasonable amount of information on the magic, PtV is going to be useless in this world, AND the earlier part about holding out a wand for the bus shouldn't have happened anyway.
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serra2
Himouto! Sylvanas-chan
She didn't even get the chance to activate it.
At the same time, it is much less of a win button right now, due to just a general lack of resources and/or allies.
Abao
Le Halpful One
- Location
- Theocracy of Derpism
...no italics. Right. NVM then.
Edit: but then again the other uses had the narration just say she asked something without italics and it specifically said her powers failed her... urgh, I'll wait for either WoG or further chapters.
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- Location
- US
I'm pretty sure there are effects that could similarly have disabled Contessa if she wasn't already running paths against them, that PtV might not be able to help her escape. A big part of PtV's strength is in long-term manipulation that Fortuna isn't doing.
Fortuna might still have basic 'survival' paths running that would have extracted her from the Dementor (or prevented her from running into it), but since it wasn't going to kiss her that didn't matter.
- Location
- [REDACTED]- United States of America
There's something to note here: Maroon_Sweater, Pericardium, and Poe, helped write this.
Having read Maroon_Sweater and Pericardium's stuff before we can lay a large part of Contessa's unhappiness at her truncated freewill/dependance on her shard. Caused by having an always right god-machine strapped to her soul at all times (at least presumably in this AU.)
If I was in her position the first thing I would have done after securing my own safety was see if I could return a greater measure of (the illusion of) free-will to myself and if necessary sabotage my own powers or otherwise set myself on the Path Of Not Using My Powers At Every Turn And Therefor Sucking All The Joy And Surpise out of Life As A God-Machine In My Head Perfectly Plans Everything Out For Me Destroying Any Semblance Or Figleaf Of My Freewill.
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serra2
Himouto! Sylvanas-chan
There really wasn't anything her power could do to make the dementor's attack stop, so it failed. Her power is good, but only when you use it for the long-term plans and manipulations. Drop her naked into a pit with several hungry grizzlies, and the only thing her power will tell her to do is die faster to ease the pain.