[X][BOOKS] Yeah!: "I know the basics, but I'd still rather know more from a local's perspective." [X][MINION] Say nothing: It'd be a bit weird to have a minion. (Ron's not a minion (yet). You remain equals.)
[X][BOOKS] Yeah!: "I know the basics, but I'd still rather know more from a local's perspective." [X][MINION] Say nothing: It'd be a bit weird to have a minion. (Ron's not a minion (yet). You remain equals.)
Welcome back! Disappointed I missed the vote, but the option I would have voted for won anyway, so I can't be too broken up about it. And I love the way you're writing these characters!
[X][BOOKS] Yeah!: "I know the basics, but I'd still rather know more from a local's perspective." [X][MINION] Say nothing: It'd be a bit weird to have a minion. (Ron's not a minion (yet). You remain equals.)
The trio of Harry, Ron and Draco continued to spend their trip to school unperturbed.
The only interruptions were when the train left, at which point Ron poked out of the window to say goodbye to his mum and sister while Draco hid from sight; and then when Draco's inherited Familiar, Nicodemus, came back riding the shoulder of the Trolley Witch once they were a good hour away from the station.
After a brief debate over who would buy candy for sharing, which Draco won by pointing out that Harry didn't even have a checkbook, much less real paper money, the three new friends sat around to share on cartoonishly whimsical treats.
(Harry made a mental note that Ron stayed quiet during the brief debate.)
Mostly, they spent their time learning the rules and tricks of Dungeons and Dragons (2E) and setting up a quick-and-easy campaign.
Stuttery and a bit embarrassing at first, the three boys quickly got into the swing of things. At one point, Draco's Wizard and Ron's Wizard/Paladin found themselves at a roadblock when they got stuck at a particularly challenging puzzle that Harry made up on the spot, so Draco invited Crabbe and Goyle in at Harry's suggestion.
Goyle played a Barbarian/Wizard. Crabbe played a Rogue/Druid.
Everyone named their characters after themselves, for some reason.
Within minutes of real time and seconds of in-game time, everything was on fire, undead bees were everywhere, Draco had turned Ron into a kraken, Ron had decided to stay a kraken after it helped him easily win an encounter, Goyle was chewing on the face of a living and screaming black dragon, and Crabbe had decided to seduce a goat by turning into a bull, to general confusion.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun. The others seemed to agree.
"You said you wanted to sell some of these things at Hogwarts?" Draco asked once the prince was rescued (read: incarcerated after Ron deduced he was the one behind everything and Harry decided that was a better plot twist than everything being a dream).
"Yeah."
"That's a really good idea, you could probably make a lot of money on this..." Draco frowned. "But, you only have the one rule set, right?"
"Yeah, I wasn't sure what to do about that. Is there something like a magical printer?" Harry winced and cradled his wrist, adding, "I don't wanna do everything by hand."
"Well, you could probably convince a Parahuman or an upperclassman to transcribe it with magic," said Draco, scratching his chin.
"The real problem's gonna be convincing people to play it," Ron said through a mouthfull of writhing confections shaped and behaving like various animals. "Especially people in different Houses."
"That's true," Draco nodded. "Unless..."
"What?"
"Well, um, Weasley and I already expressed desires for different Houses," said Draco. "Assuming we all get what we want, and that Prince Potter ends somewhere fitting but away from us... perhaps we could partner up? Maybe split the profits and make a joint operation?"
Ron's eyes got really wide, but he restrained himself as he turned to look at Harry for his response first.
[][PARTNERS] YEAH!
[][PARTNERS] NAW!
Whatever his response, they spent the rest of the trip eating, talking, laughing and occasionally listening to Harry's discman.
(Draco's expression when Harry played him some Ramones was the same as when Ron told him about UFOs.)
As they travelled farther, they cut through a thick fog and storm, which obscured how much the sun was hiding until the lights came on and all three boys realized how dark it had gotten outside.
After some awkward shuffling, hemming and hawing, they all took turns changing in the bathroom. When Draco went, Crabbe and Goyle went with him. They came back changed.
Harry and Ron would go on to wonder for the rest of their lives if the two minions went into the single-person bathroom with their boss and changed with him, or if they changed outside the bathroom while standing in clear view of everyone.
Whatever the case, soon enough things were put away, a voice on the intercom advised them to leave their luggage where it was, and they all merrily left the train to find themselves standing in muddy, damp, misty terrain.
"It's like we never left England," Harry joked.
"You beat me to it by a second," Ron replied.
Draco, burdened by nationalistic pride for some reason, sighed but said nothing.
The students stepped out of the train and found themselves at a wooden station, complete with a sign.
It read "Hogsmead Train Station. Irish Need Not Step Out."
"Oi, what the ass?" one boy Harry's age asked. He, predictably, had an Irish accent.
"Holdover from the Thatcher administration," an older boy with a similar accent said, voice tired. "They were going to remove it when she finally left last year, but some wanker did a ritual to stick it in place, and we're not allowed to set the bloody station on fire over a single sign."
"That's a bloody outrage!"
"First years! First years!" a familiar voice called out.
Relieved, Harry turned to find the enormous form of Hagrid stepping closer, holding up a lantern giving off a blue light from the azure flame inside.
"Are the Irish done being mad about the sign?" Hagrid asked.
"One moment," the boy Harry's age said, before turning around and kicking the sign.
It jostled slightly, but stayed put.
The boy nodded at himself then turned to Hagrid, "I'm good now."
"I keep telling them we need to replace that sign," Hagrid sighed. "Anyways. First years, with me! Upperclassmen, if you don't know where to go by now, follow someone that does!"
The mass of students split up, one seventh of it trailing after Hagrid like ducklings as he lead them from soggy wood to muddy earth, and then to a prim cobblestone path.
The mist seemed to curl around them as if it had a will of its own, but it parted eagerly under the shine of Hagrid's lantern.
They walked like that for a while, only capable of seeing each other and the massive frame of the groundskeeper. There was a moment of alarm when several students realized they could not see the ground under their feet and they started murmuring nervously.
Harry felt his implement warm around his finger, and when he looked down at it, he saw the mist curl into the shape of small baby-sized hands that tried to clasp his own.
Bizarrely unafraid, he turned his hand and brushed the mist. He immediately felt his hunger sharpen and his energy wane, but the mist turned briefly, partially golden and it parted from him, enough that he could see the cobbles under him aain.
And then, they exited the fog, and found before them a castle.
Harry's breath escaped him. His eyes dared not blink.
Tall, enormous, with two large towers on either side and a sturdy wall topped with weapons medieval and distressingly modern, the ancient walls of Hogwarts stood as they had for millenia, and as they would for the forseeable future. The grass and plantation outside the walls was perpetually pushed away as though by an unfelt wind.
There was something incomprehensible about the place, with the glimmering lights that could barely be seen through distant windows and atop the wall. It felt solid in an abstact sense, like its rich history and metaphorical durability were actual physical traits that could be observed with the naked eye.
"Here I am," the school seemed to say. "Here I stand, through time, kings and trials, to educate you. Fill my halls, learn the trades I offer."
And despite it all... Harry did not feel himself be assured of safety.
Eventually, the stupor ceased, and the students moved forward, as Hagrid had been patiently waiting for them.
"Even grander than my parents described it," Draco whispered.
"I know," Ron agreed, voice equally low.
The walls got even bigger and more eye-catching as they neared. They stretched upwards like skyscrapers, with only a few windows and peeping holes interrupting unyielding stone and masonry.
There was only one gate, almost comical in how it was sized for people when everything else was enormous.
Two gargoyles sat on each side of it, and there were two more gargoyle heads on the door itself, holding onto large ring knockers.
"Call Professor McGonagall, please," said Hagrid.
The gargoyle on the right turned its head slightly, and within minutes the sound of heels clacking on stone could be heard approaching.
Harry then noticed that Hagrid had been wearing a hat, because the large man removed it and started nervously wringing it in his hands.
The young magician-in-training barely had a moment to wonder at that before the doors open and an older woman with a severe expression and round glasses hanging off the edge of her sharp nose. She wore a full three-piece suit that clung to her thin frame tightly, along with a holstered wand on her side.
A golden ring with a black stone on it glimmered on her right finger, and her ears were lined with piercings exposed by the way her hair was tied back in a bun that could crack stone. On top of her head was a wide-brimmed witch hat, which flopped backwards on the end as all proper witch hats should.
She looked at the students for a moment, then turned to look at Hagrid, who'd spent a few moments stuttering.
"Timely as ever, Rubeus," Professor McGonagall said, harsh expression shifting into a gentle smile.
Harry barely spotted the tips of Hagrid's ears through all the hair. They were red.
... huh.
At that moment... Harry decided he would tease Hagrid about this later.
"Well, thank you kindly, Professor," Hagrid said. "I'll just, erm, make my way to the table."
"By all means," said McGonagall, stepping aside.
When Hagrid moved past her, she gave his thick arm a kindly pat, before her expression turned stone-like again as she focused back on the students, some of whom where giggling among themselves.
"Students, welcome to the Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor, Minerva McGonagall; Mistress of Conjuration and Expert Transfigurator.
"In moments, you shall all be sorted according to whatever House most suits your talents.
"Perhaps you shall join mine, and learn the heights of Conjuration. Should Transfiguration be more your style, Ravenclaw's doors are open. The arts of Wizardry are always in need of new points of view and new insights into what is and isn't possible.
"If the Craft is more your speed, Slytherin's pacts and Hufflepuff's rituals shall prove sources of inmense power for you all. The paths of Witchcraft are more marked than those of the Arts, but there is still room for advancement and refinement in every small thing.
"Regardless, you shall all be accepted into this noble Academy, even if you yourselves are not Nobles. Your housemates shall be your research partners and rivals, students outside your House shall be a welcome respit from competition for resources and access to certain tomes, and your teachers will guide and educate you.
"Make no mistake, though the walls keep the buildings inside safe, tomorrow the fog shall clear and everything outside will start scheming for access to and ownership of your names, minds and souls. Sabotage of another student is only acceptable as long as the result is not fatal, and ego death is no longer considered non-fatal."
Some kids huffed through their noses and/or clicked their tongues. Seems like they were really banking on that whole "ego death" thing.
"There is an expectation of chivalry in our students. Keep it, or face punishment. Either the removal of points or the removal of limbs."
Bloody hell! Was she serious?!
"That was a joke."
Oh.
"We can do worse things than dismemberment; and if you play with magic, you shall deserve every second of them."
Oh.
"With all that said, welcome once again. Please follow, and prepare for the sorting ritual."
With nary another word, she turned on her heel and stepped away.
The students interchanged nervous looks, then followed after.
Harry leaned in to Ron and whispered, "Was she joking about--?"
"No."
"Ah. You're sure?"
"Yes," he and Draco replied in unison.
"Got it."
The group moved across a large lobby, and then through a wide corridor lined with suits of stone and cold iron armor which turned their helms to watch them go.
Soon enough, they caught up with Professor McGonagall, who opened a wide set of doors with a single flick of a wand.
The doors calmly opened, and Harry laid eyes on a huge hall, complete with five long tables. Four were parallel with the walls to the sides and each other, stretching forward to fit all the students while the fifth one was perpendicular, in line with the back wall on the far end of the room, and hosted a wide variety of characters dressed in what Harry now recognized as typical adult magician fashion.
Which is to say that they were all covered in more ice than the titanic and had more drip than a runny nose.
There were other adults seated at the head of each table, minus the one on the far left where the students had red and gold ties and lining in their robes.
On the far right, where the students were decorated with green and silver, the one sitting at the head of the table was an elongated man with greasy black hair, a hawkish nose and dark robes from which no light seemed to escape and which writhed around his form constantly. Silver rings decorated each of his fingers.
The second table from the right, where students were lined with blue and copper, was lead by a miniscule man with the hair on his head shaved at the sides and tied back, a braided beard and tattoos on his face and neck. He wore chainmail armor, had a short bearded axe hanging from his hip and he was drinking from a horn so rapidly that he left a foam moustache on top of his real moustache.
The second table from the left, where students wore yellow and black, was lead by a plump woman with a kindly smile, simple green robes, and a two-handed sword hanging off her back. She was redheaded, freckled, and looked like someone's favourite grandmother. She was sipping wine from a skull that had been turned into a goblet.
Harry noticed that the older the students were, the more they accessorized. He had a brief vision of his future, where he looked like a pasty and English version of Mr. T and carried around weapons like a lunatic.
This vision...
[][FUTURE] Excited Him: Fuck yeah! If looking badass is an option, it's better than whimsy! (Harry will be willing to lean into the accessorizing stuff)
[][FUTURE] Horrified Him: God, could you imagine? His aunt and uncle would die on the spot. (Harry will try to look normal, even if it turns out that wearing ridiculous stuff is necessary.)
Whatever the case, Professor McGonagall strode forward after telling everyone to stay put, then headed for the main table at the end of the room.
There, a small podium was, which inclined forward to allow her access to a large leather-bound tome, which opened on its own for her.
She inspected it for a moment, then produced a list from the inside pocket of her suit jacket. She unfurled the scroll, and read out in a commanding voice, "Abbot, Hannah!"
A young blonde girl, with her hair tied in pigtails, nervously scurried forward.
The professor patiently guided her to rest her hands on the book. Abbot, Hannah did so, and after a few moments...
"HUFFLEPUFF."
The voice seemed to ring from everywhere at once, reverberating with the walls of the Great Hall.
The lining of Abbot, Hannah's turned black and yellow, and she quickly rushed to the appropiate table.
The process repeated a few times, and -- confident in their surnames' initials -- Harry, Ron and Draco quickly lost focus and went back to examining the room.
The walls were lined with several pillars of beautifully sculpted masonry, etched with drawings of runes and glyphs of unknown purposes. These pillars held up a ceiling that was hidden from sight by an illusion of the night sky above them; slightly clouded but with a shining moon above and no light pollution to hide the stars.
What did obscure the sight a little were all the candles hanging still in the air above the students, giving out warm lighting.
"How do they keep the wax from dripping on everyone?" Harry wondered out loud.
"They don't," a girl with long blonde hair deadpanned, gesturing to the tables then using the same hand to brush some dried wax off her shoulder.
Indeed, now that Harry was looking, more than a few students were already bearing a resemblance to an unattended statue at a park. Others were protected by different means, such as the wax droplets curving around them, turning into mist on approach, stopping and rolling off as if on an invisible umbrella or simply disappearing.
This was what happened mainly among older students, with only a few younger kids similarly blessed. Everyone else hissed when hot wax landed on skin and dealt with it.
Notably, none of it landed on the tables or the empty plates.
"This seems... purposeful."
"Hogwarts believes in motivation through mundane means," the blonde girl shrugged, already focused on looking forward.
The reason for her focus was made clear when "Greengrass, Daphne" was called out and she stepped forward, marching with her chin held high towards the tome, which took only moments before calling out "GRYFFINDOR."
Harry tracked her as she walked to the appropiate table, where the clapping and cheering was loudest. Remembering something, he looked to the left and was quickly able to spot the bushy hair of Granger, Hermione among the Hufflepuffs.
He hummed slightly, then yelped when wax landed on his ear.
Time moved forward; the nervous Duke-in-Training, Longbottom, was sent to RAVENCLAW.
(People chuckled when he almost tripped over his feet on the way there.)
And finally, Draco went first of the trio; blessed as he was by the M initial.
He gave Ron and Harry a nervous smile, then walked forward with surety and placed both hands on the tome.
It was only a matter of seconds before the voice called out with, "SLYTHERIN."
Draco's shoulders slumped slightly with relief, before he raised his chin and walked with imperious calm composure and striking dignity.
Which was a little tarnished by the knowledge that he was the kind of person that believed in aliens, named his inexplicably-scottish D&D character "Draco MacMalfoy" and struggled with puzzles designed for toddlers.
Two other people later, the name Potter, Harry was called out, and silence blanketed the room for a moment as Harry stepped to the front of the group and nervously marched forward.
Whispers broke out as he identified himself; more than a few commented on his short stature and unimpressive looks. Still, Harry got to the tome without incident, and placed both hands on the--
A fire, a roaring fire.
Consuming all, cursed with unspeakable, unceasing hunger.
But the fire was only an illusion. A gaseous gateway to a world of heat and undiscriminating gluttony. An expanding hole in reality.
And from inside the hole, two eyes peered out, shining with yellow glee, focused on Harry--
A voice called out. Or the opposite of a voice.
Words that carved silence into the noise of the world, taking away and creating voids in the shape of communication.
Harry felt himself pulled in two directions, one greater than the other.
[][HOUSE] The Greater Pull
[][HOUSE] The Lesser Pull
He didn't even realize he'd snapped out of it until he heard the clapping and cheering, loudest from the House that had accepted him, who cheered over and over that they "Got the Prince!".
He hadn't even heard the announcement.
Slightly dazed and with new appreciation for why Duke Longbottom tripped on the way to his table, Harry made his way to his own and barely acknowledged the people that greeted him. The haze in his mind remained until the sorting was done and the headmaster, an old man with a long grey beard and a very decorated purple suit, gave a short speech on the value of education or something.
Then, food appeared on the dishes in front of students, and Harry quickly stuffed his face while making superficial and polite small talk with his housemates.
Did everyone see a vision like that? For a moment, his head had felt like it would burst open at the seams.
After a while, food was finished and everyone made to walk to their Houses, when Harry was stopped by...
... the Headmaster?
"Um, hi?" said Harry, trying not to blush at the attention coming from his housemates.
"Hello, Prince Potter," the Headmaster said, smiling grandfatherly at him. "I was just hoping for a moment of your time? There is someone that was hoping to meet you. Don't worry, we won't keep you long."
Harry looked at his housemates, who were hurrying away at the urging of their head of house, then shrugged and nodded. "Fine?"
"Wonderful."
Professor Dumbledor lead Harry out of the hall through a discrete side exit, then through a series of labyrinthine hallways to a modest office, decorated with a number of paintings, a plus chair behind a desk, a desk, and two chairs in front of it that were even more plush, as well as occupied.
On one seat was occupied by a woman that looked like a greek goddess of some sort. Draped in a bone-white robe speckled with red and brown stains at her sandal-clad feet, she carried a trident that she rested against her shoulder in one hand and a shield in the other. There was a greek helm over her head, ready to be pulled down over her face at any time.
Her features were inhumanly perfect and symmetrical, though her eyes were uniformly grey, pulsating slightly with light.
The other was a normal man. Handsome, sure, but in a way you'd see in the street. Dressed in a salaryman's shirt and tie with the sleeves rolled up and with an open paperback open in one hand.
Harry barely managed to see the cover. "Neuromancer", by William Gibson.
Professor Dumbledore walked forward, leaving Harry at the door, and gestured to the two, "Your Highness, these two--"
"Albus, please," said the man, folding a corner of the page and leaving the book on the desk. "I think we can introduce ourselves. Or at least, I can."
The Headmaster's mouth twitched slightly, but he nodded agreeably and let the man speak.
The man smiled affably at the Headmaster, then turned that same smile to Harry, saying, "Good evening to you, Prince Potter. I apologize for interrupting your first day here, but I thought it best to get this meeting out of the way."
"I-It's no issue," Harry assured him.
"I'm glad," said the man. "Now, the lovely lady still sitting behind me and glowering menacingly at you is Britannia, my familiar.
"And I am the Unspoken King of England, Tom Marvolo Riddle."
[X][PARTNERS] YEAH! [X][FUTURE] Excited Him: Fuck yeah! If looking badass is an option, it's better than whimsy! (Harry will be willing to lean into the accessorizing stuff) [X][HOUSE] The Greater Pull
[X][PARTNERS] YEAH! [X][FUTURE] Horrified Him:
[X][HOUSE] The Lesser Pull
We need to win friends and influence people, per Draco earlier, so let's start with using our friends as inroads into the other houses.
I suspect I am going to lose on the dress up vote but please can we choose to do fashion quest some other way? Boymoding Dressing plainly is easier on our family who we are trying to maintain bridges with and may make hostiles underestimate us in the future
I am a sucker for going for the lesser pull. I am doing it anyway
[X][FUTURE] Excited Him: Fuck yeah! If looking badass is an option, it's better than whimsy! (Harry will be willing to lean into the accessorizing stuff)
It's worth noting that we've not seen the same Blood Purity or anti-muggle bigotry on display as it was in canon, and Malfoy is kinda the biggest litmus test given his enduring nobility. Tommy-boy, not facing the anti-wizard bigotry back in the orphanage (neither option back in char-gen raises to the near-genocidal hatred that even the Dursley's manifested back in the early books) or any real concentration of anti-mundane bigotry in any of the houses due to them being based on skills and aptitude not personality. Even more so, given how much more temperamental and dangerous magic sounds like here, would have likely had at least 1 bad experience which would've burned him on the idea of digging too deeply into magics he didn't understand.
There's also the possibility that not!Moldyshorts and Riddle are fundamentally the same person, where Tommy split his 'evil' away from himself and it immediately dredged up something monstrous which walked the canonical Riddle's path in this world. We've already seen that contracts have power and that parahumanity and magical creatures don't hold to standard moral codes, who says he (Riddle, Moldyshorts, or both) didn't find a creature to pact with who could do such a thing?
[X][PARTNERS] YEAH!
[X][FUTURE] Horrified Him
[X][HOUSE] The Lesser Pull
I believe the greater pull to be Slytherin, given we put so many votes into accord/pacts in chargen. The lesser pull might be Gryffindor given our instrument favors conjuration. Alternatively, Hufflepuff, but very unlikely to be Ravenclaw.
Anyway, I'd prefer to not be in the same house as Ron or Draco, to spread as wide a net among the houses as possible. The lesser pull might be Gryffindor, but I'm voting that way in the hopes it's Hufflepuff. And hey, we'd be with Hermione at least. Also wasn't a fan of that greater pull vision.
As for Tom… it could be that Voldemort was some evil part of himself split off… or it could be HPMOR type thing where he faked the whole conflict and staged Voldemorts downfall so Tom could rise to power.
[X][PARTNERS] YEAH! [X][FUTURE] Excited Him: Fuck yeah! If looking badass is an option, it's better than whimsy! (Harry will be willing to lean into the accessorizing stuff) [X][HOUSE] The Greater Pull
[X][PARTNERS] YEAH! [X][FUTURE] Excited Him: Fuck yeah! If looking badass is an option, it's better than whimsy! (Harry will be willing to lean into the accessorizing stuff) [X][HOUSE] The Greater Pull
As for Tom… it could be that Voldemort was some evil part of himself split off… or it could be HPMOR type thing where he faked the whole conflict and staged Voldemorts downfall so Tom could rise to power.
[X][PARTNERS] YEAH! [X][FUTURE] Excited Him: Fuck yeah! If looking badass is an option, it's better than whimsy! (Harry will be willing to lean into the accessorizing stuff) [X][HOUSE] The Greater Pull
[X][PARTNERS] YEAH! [X][FUTURE] Excited Him: Fuck yeah! If looking badass is an option, it's better than whimsy! (Harry will be willing to lean into the accessorizing stuff) [X][HOUSE] The Greater Pull
[X][PARTNERS] YEAH!
[X][FUTURE] Horrified Him
[X][HOUSE] The Lesser Pull
I'm drawn more to the Lesser Pull, mostly because Greater is almost certainly Slytherin based on some of our earlier picks, I'm interested in adding to the variety. Also I think it will help Harry continue to stand out by being in a house while being more adept at an outside house's magic, variety is good, for him and for whichever house he will end up in.
Also... I'm of two minds on the Horrified/Excited section, I think in the childish sense I think Excited just is more likely for a young child, but I think continuing with that more muted approach in the long term is more interesting and with being a Prince in this setting, its quite possible we could see us sort of leading others to more sensible and muted aesthetics as well over time, a sort of symbol of connection to us and maybe our effect on the world over time, obviously not anytime soon of course.
"Are the Irish done being mad about the sign?" Hagrid asked.
"One moment," the boy Harry's age said, before turning around and kicking the sign.
It jostled slightly, but stayed put.
The boy nodded at himself then turned to Hagrid, "I'm good now."
"I keep telling them we need to replace that sign," Hagrid sighed. "Anyways. First years, with me! Upperclassmen, if you don't know where to go by now, follow someone that does!"
The young magician-in-training barely had a moment to wonder at that before the doors open and an older woman with a severe expression and round glasses hanging off the edge of her sharp nose. She wore a full three-piece suit that clung to her thin frame tightly, along with a holstered wand on her side.
A golden ring with a black stone on it glimmered on her right finger, and her ears were lined with piercings exposed by the way her hair was tied back in a bun that could crack stone. On top of her head was a wide-brimmed witch hat, which flopped backwards on the end as all proper witch hats should.
