Because a famous 11 Y.O. boy, focus of a Prophecy, does not goes missing for a cople of weeks without making a lot of noise. Like nation-wide journalistic noise. The kind of noise that puts you under strict adult surveillance until you are an adult. Also, an 11 y.o. going about alone in a nation where he does not speak the local language alerts a lot of people.
Harry Potter and the Scabbard of Excalibur [AU]
Because a famous 11 Y.O. boy, focus of a Prophecy, does not goes missing for a cople of weeks without making a lot of noise. Like nation-wide journalistic noise. The kind of noise that puts you under strict adult surveillance until you are an adult. Also, an 11 y.o. going about alone in a nation where he does not speak the local language alerts a lot of people.
Valid points, but Birdsie said one of the reasons to pick Inner Circle of Hufflepuff was that we totally could ask someone to stand in disguised as us staying over in a friend's house. Perks of being in a global cult and all that
The international portkeys in the Hufflepuff basement could cover covert travel. No one would need to know we accessed them except the inner circle who are compelled to trust our judgement and cover for us.
As for the language barrier we have a plethora of magical options. Brain potion to pick up a language, translation spells and enchantments we could fashion or buy. Summon Ornias who can speak Arabic or better - Ankh who can speak all languages and understand customs, shapeshifting or illusioning them and us to freely move about.
Or we could get any of the adult Hufflepuffs who are free and willing to chaperone us - we'll sell it to them saying we're a Runic/Astrology prodigy looking to broaden our horizons visiting these places. We have the clout.
We could also simply stay under perfect invisibility using the Mantle of Death. Money is also not an issue, but we need to break the fund bonds without alerting Sirius - bribing the Goblins could work. Maybe we can ask him to take us to Godric's Hallow if it doesn't trigger him too much?
Last edited:
TaliesinSkye
Occasional Editor
- Location
- Northeast Ohio, United States
This is amazing. I was having a pretty terrible day and the absurdity of this cheered me up immediately.
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Make requests. In my repertoire, I have Jack Slash as Red Heather in Candy Store, Clockblocker as Aaron Burr... the Worm Cast as the Hamilton Cast...
AN: Alternate timeline where Harry never joined the inner circle, and decided he wanted some more sweet, sweet Gnosis, and the best solution was to borrow it.
Harry Potter was many things, genius, saviour, and Vanquisher of the Dark Lord – some would even call him 'The Messiah' of the wizarding world, but that wasn't true.Not yet, at least.
What he was not, however, was a generator, more specifically a Gnosis one. The God-like energy was rare. The legendary kind of rare. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem for him, he would go about his life, slowly generating scraps of the omnipotent energy, until it reached a crescendo, then he would pop it in a simplified term. Allowing him near-rule breaking levels of ability - be it in the form of a massive learning boost, to gaining the power to relearn a powerful, forgotten art of magic. Gnosis gave it and more!
He deeply desired more of it, both for the rapidly escalating journey that was his life and the threats that lurk in the dark – and considering this is Hogwarts, it can be taken quite literally.
Though, after some uncountable long exhausting nights deep diving in the ancient books which contained the secrets of the subjects of Rituals, Astrology, and the forbidden Dark Arts, he had theoretically found a solution. An evil solution in the eyes of many, one which lesser men would shiver at, but a solution all the same.
He was sure, people wouldn't mind letting him borrow, the Gnosis they were using. After all, better him than them. In his defence, they weren't using it anyway!
Though, Geist did call his plan stupid. And dumb. And creepy. But less of that. Every second wasted, was a second not capitalising on the free Gnosis market!
Tonight, would be the night he will spring his plan. Once the clock hit midnight, did he move. Bringing with him, one of the main reasons his plan would even be possible – The cloak of invisibility. Though in Harry's new title, "The cloak of HAXS." To this day, Geist does not know where he learned that word from.
- A short while later -
Soon, steady steps filled the Hufflepuff common room, to the eyes of a witch or wizard nothing would be out of the ordinary, or what counted as such for them. Some could say the very world itself, ignored Harry thanks to his trusted cloak, which dragged off behind him.
It didn't take long to reach his destination, remembering the exact twists and turns thanks to the strong memory of a ghostly friend of his, which helped him reach it in record time. He also didn't falter to whatever idle chatter he came across when making his journey, not because he was shy or lazy, but instead because he simply wasn't allowed to be there.
Once he reached, he gazed upon the item of which would be the focal point of his plan, the star symbol of the house of Hufflepuff.
The Cup of Hufflepuff, or just the Chalice.
It looked the same as the first time he laid eyes on it, stuck glued to the stone pedestal, the familiar moonlight shining down upon it, which amplified its awe factor even further.
It looked so simple to just take the cup from its pedestal and make it his own. He could do it as well, the almighty cloak of HAXS has many abilities and this was one of them, wards wouldn't work if no-one was there, right? Sadly, while it would work, it wouldn't stop the other defence mechanisms from activating, like immediately informing the relative parties that the cup mysteriously disappeared without a trace. The last thing Harry wanted, was a manhunt for the cup. Or worse, his head.
While annoyed at that little detail, it didn't stop him from carrying out his master plan, swiftly taking his wand from the holster at his side, he grabbed a single lone penny from the many pockets of the standard Hogwarts uniform, and placed it down on the ground. Next second, what replaced the dull, copper penny was a grand chest, filled to the brim with items and ingredients for the next stage of Harry's splendid plan.
Letting out a small smirk, Harry flicked the wand holding wrist, muttering wizard-preferred butchered Latin, and with it the chest burst in a flurry of gusto, previously said mentioned items floating idly in the air, before another flick slowly helped guide them to their designated tasks of setting up his ritual.
It did take quite a while to set up the ritual, even with the magical help, certain aspects couldn't be handled by simple flick of the wrists – instead the more core and internal part of the ritual, and runes had to be done carefully, less everyone's favourite chosen one be meeting his end because of a botched ritual malfunction.
Looking at his handy work, Harry smiled brightly, wiping the few drops of sweat which accumulated on his forehead, from the hyper-induced focus. Giving everything a once over, he nodded before preparing the necessary potion and stand-by emergency back-up plans.
A few minutes past, before everything had been set up, and now it was time for the final phase of Harry's plan to start.
With a few chants and gestures, the ritual circle flared to life, the moonlight which shone solely on the cup seemingly expanded, bathing all in its pale light, adding further mysticism to the countless number of symbols and scribbles of the ritual circle, which glowed a light blue. The ambient mana gathered from all over Hogwarts, brining with it a hefty atmosphere.
At the centre of the circle, Harry held a pitch-black dagger in one hand, his mouth moving with incomprehensible words as he brought a potion from the floor, and uncorked the screw letting the warm red liquid fill in his mouth and flow down his stomach, bringing with it a pleasant sensation.
Confirming that the potion effect worked, Harry carried on with the next part of the ritual, bringing the dagger to his wrist a cutting a small precise cut next to the artery, and with it the blood flowed.
The crimson blood poured into the hungry goblet, filling it to the top with Harry's life-blood. The cup shimmered with almost-life like excitement, lines of blood dripping out.
Gulping, Harry steeled himself, bringing the cup to his outer lips before giving it a courtesy taste.
Finding it surprisingly sweet, he took another sip, seeing the reoccurring he began sipping, taking his time to savour the taste of his own blood.
Which each gulp, he could feel himself grow stronger, smarter, faster and more importantly he could literally feel the Gnosis run through his veins.
Harry POV:
I'M INVINCIBLE.
Harry Potter was many things, genius, saviour, and Vanquisher of the Dark Lord – some would even call him 'The Messiah' of the wizarding world, but that wasn't true.
What he was not, however, was a generator, more specifically a Gnosis one. The God-like energy was rare. The legendary kind of rare. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem for him, he would go about his life, slowly generating scraps of the omnipotent energy, until it reached a crescendo, then he would pop it in a simplified term. Allowing him near-rule breaking levels of ability - be it in the form of a massive learning boost, to gaining the power to relearn a powerful, forgotten art of magic. Gnosis gave it and more!
He deeply desired more of it, both for the rapidly escalating journey that was his life and the threats that lurk in the dark – and considering this is Hogwarts, it can be taken quite literally.
Though, after some uncountable long exhausting nights deep diving in the ancient books which contained the secrets of the subjects of Rituals, Astrology, and the forbidden Dark Arts, he had theoretically found a solution. An evil solution in the eyes of many, one which lesser men would shiver at, but a solution all the same.
He was sure, people wouldn't mind letting him borrow, the Gnosis they were using. After all, better him than them. In his defence, they weren't using it anyway!
Though, Geist did call his plan stupid. And dumb. And creepy. But less of that. Every second wasted, was a second not capitalising on the free Gnosis market!
Tonight, would be the night he will spring his plan. Once the clock hit midnight, did he move. Bringing with him, one of the main reasons his plan would even be possible – The cloak of invisibility. Though in Harry's new title, "The cloak of HAXS." To this day, Geist does not know where he learned that word from.
- A short while later -
Soon, steady steps filled the Hufflepuff common room, to the eyes of a witch or wizard nothing would be out of the ordinary, or what counted as such for them. Some could say the very world itself, ignored Harry thanks to his trusted cloak, which dragged off behind him.
It didn't take long to reach his destination, remembering the exact twists and turns thanks to the strong memory of a ghostly friend of his, which helped him reach it in record time. He also didn't falter to whatever idle chatter he came across when making his journey, not because he was shy or lazy, but instead because he simply wasn't allowed to be there.
Once he reached, he gazed upon the item of which would be the focal point of his plan, the star symbol of the house of Hufflepuff.
The Cup of Hufflepuff, or just the Chalice.
It looked the same as the first time he laid eyes on it, stuck glued to the stone pedestal, the familiar moonlight shining down upon it, which amplified its awe factor even further.
It looked so simple to just take the cup from its pedestal and make it his own. He could do it as well, the almighty cloak of HAXS has many abilities and this was one of them, wards wouldn't work if no-one was there, right? Sadly, while it would work, it wouldn't stop the other defence mechanisms from activating, like immediately informing the relative parties that the cup mysteriously disappeared without a trace. The last thing Harry wanted, was a manhunt for the cup. Or worse, his head.
While annoyed at that little detail, it didn't stop him from carrying out his master plan, swiftly taking his wand from the holster at his side, he grabbed a single lone penny from the many pockets of the standard Hogwarts uniform, and placed it down on the ground. Next second, what replaced the dull, copper penny was a grand chest, filled to the brim with items and ingredients for the next stage of Harry's splendid plan.
Letting out a small smirk, Harry flicked the wand holding wrist, muttering wizard-preferred butchered Latin, and with it the chest burst in a flurry of gusto, previously said mentioned items floating idly in the air, before another flick slowly helped guide them to their designated tasks of setting up his ritual.
It did take quite a while to set up the ritual, even with the magical help, certain aspects couldn't be handled by simple flick of the wrists – instead the more core and internal part of the ritual, and runes had to be done carefully, less everyone's favourite chosen one be meeting his end because of a botched ritual malfunction.
Looking at his handy work, Harry smiled brightly, wiping the few drops of sweat which accumulated on his forehead, from the hyper-induced focus. Giving everything a once over, he nodded before preparing the necessary potion and stand-by emergency back-up plans.
A few minutes past, before everything had been set up, and now it was time for the final phase of Harry's plan to start.
With a few chants and gestures, the ritual circle flared to life, the moonlight which shone solely on the cup seemingly expanded, bathing all in its pale light, adding further mysticism to the countless number of symbols and scribbles of the ritual circle, which glowed a light blue. The ambient mana gathered from all over Hogwarts, brining with it a hefty atmosphere.
At the centre of the circle, Harry held a pitch-black dagger in one hand, his mouth moving with incomprehensible words as he brought a potion from the floor, and uncorked the screw letting the warm red liquid fill in his mouth and flow down his stomach, bringing with it a pleasant sensation.
Confirming that the potion effect worked, Harry carried on with the next part of the ritual, bringing the dagger to his wrist a cutting a small precise cut next to the artery, and with it the blood flowed.
The crimson blood poured into the hungry goblet, filling it to the top with Harry's life-blood. The cup shimmered with almost-life like excitement, lines of blood dripping out.
Gulping, Harry steeled himself, bringing the cup to his outer lips before giving it a courtesy taste.
Finding it surprisingly sweet, he took another sip, seeing the reoccurring he began sipping, taking his time to savour the taste of his own blood.
Which each gulp, he could feel himself grow stronger, smarter, faster and more importantly he could literally feel the Gnosis run through his veins.
Harry POV:
I'M INVINCIBLE.
- Location
- Portugal
- Pronouns
- Her Graciousness
People for real losing their minds over Snow White references.
If this girl really is alive, she must be some weirdo setting up the stone dias, field of enchanted roses et cetera then knocking herself out on it. Did she do it for her boyfriend? Did he just never figure out where she went?
Or did someone put her there for some reason. Is the draught of living death really magical cryosleep or did she drink it recently? If it is cryosleep, why didn't you just drink the draught Geist, god.
Can't wait to see what you decided on.
I think we should check that book Geist mentioned though, just to make sure he wasn't having us on.
If this girl really is alive, she must be some weirdo setting up the stone dias, field of enchanted roses et cetera then knocking herself out on it. Did she do it for her boyfriend? Did he just never figure out where she went?
Or did someone put her there for some reason. Is the draught of living death really magical cryosleep or did she drink it recently? If it is cryosleep, why didn't you just drink the draught Geist, god.
Can't wait to see what you decided on.
I think we should check that book Geist mentioned though, just to make sure he wasn't having us on.
Ante Meridiem
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Ante Meridiem
Ah, this felt so awkward. Harry braced his arms on the sides of the girl's head, then leaned down steadily, and hovered a few inches above her face, with hesitation dancing and singing in his chest like a string of pearls, where every pearl was its own sort of doubt.
It was a difficult action to even consider - let alone accomplish, especially with a straight face and ledger. How does one simply kiss a girl? A sleeping girl that doesn't even know she is receiving a kiss, no matter how noble its purpose? How could a Disney prince do this so casually in that one movie?
As if guided by some innate divine epiphany, he realized that his absence of valor concerning the kissing of girls must've originated from some deeper and darker place; a deep-rooted insecurity that slumbered for some time in his heart, and emerged to haunt him for no reason other than to punish him for being a meek weakling.
As the rats behind devoured their prize, one of them spoke through its chewing snout, "Hey, that human is about to bite the sleeping human."
He felt embarrassed, cheeks heating up. Or maybe, there was no divine epiphany after all, and he was simply going through the nasty, confusing, early stages of male puberty.
Just imagine you're wearing the Invisibility Cloak or something. No moral repercussions.
Imagining that didn't help. It wasn't about morality - although that part was skeevy, too. It was about Harry's emotions simply not allowing him to perform the action requested of him, as though someone had tied a cord around his brain. However, it caused Harry to consider other scenarios that could make this situation easier - none of them worked particularly well, even as he kept sorting through them with a kind of conscientious focus; attempting to find the right button for the open slot, so to speak.
And then, suddenly, Harry's accumulated weariness, like an ocean of turbulent fatigue, shattered the dams of delicate anxiety that had kept it at bay, steering a blank canvas of apathy and sudden, fierce determination to overtake his heart. It came from somewhere even deeper than mere anxiety. He acquired a resolved look. He would kiss this girl, and he would do this now, with not a second more of pointless dilly-dallying and foot-scorched dancing around the subject. After checking his breath to make sure it wasn't nasty, fixing up his hair a bit, and correcting his glasses so they wouldn't get in the way, he leaned further down and, finally, placed a chaste smooch on her lips.
Harry leaned away from the unconscious girl.
Almost unexpectedly - as though in an epically unforeseen anticlimax - nothing bad or strange happened to him or his emotions.
Feeling faintly surprised with this placid outcome, Harry thought to himself, Actually, that wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be - I didn't even freak out or anything. Huh. It turns out kissing people is overrated.
However, there was another concern worming itself in Harry's mind. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Why isn't she waking up, though, Geist?
It's simple, Geist interjected, You've spent so long deliberating whether or not to kiss this girl that the Wiggenweld fluid formerly on your lips has had enough time to dry up, evaporate into the air, begin dating a particularly nice cloud of Angel's Trumpet Draught fumes, make a family, find a steady well-paying job, find out that its wife was cheating, get a divorce, return to your lips, cry itself to sleep, die alone, and evaporate once more, into the afterlife. Apply some more and do it again, dumbass.
Begrudgingly, with a discontented look, Harry again pulled out the small flask of healing potions on his belt, applied a new touch of fluid to his lips, and then leaned back down. He kissed the girl on the lips again, modestly.
Immediately, he noticed the appreciable difference between attempts. The very second their lips made contact, she coughed harshly, and began to wrack and seize, eyes shutting even tighter in burning pain; hissing, seizing, and groaning, as though she were deeply sick.
"Am I that bad of a kisser?" Harry pondered to himself, saddened by this information, but not particularly troubled - he was no longer afraid of the fairer sex.
No. That's a normal reaction to not having oxygen in your lungs for Merlin-knows-how-long.
After a couple of seconds of coughing and making strangled noises with her throat, the girl's eyes opened with pained lethargy. They immediately turned, in order to track Harry in the corner of her vision - she attempted to open her mouth to say something, but what came out was a sound somewhere between a horrendous cough and a screech. She curled into herself a little, in response to the pain, as Harry observed with steadily growing concern. He wasn't sure this was a normal reaction anymore.
After it was over, the girl spent a single minute breathing, and Harry stood by her side.
"Year," she muttered questingly, not a mote of strength in her voice.
"Year?"
"...what year is it?" A demanding tone made its way into her voice; portraying strength in spite of her rather pathetic state.
"1992."
She closed her eyes. An indescribably bitter and disappointed look appeared on her face; an emotional pain on a scale of blank, dull agony - a pain that couldn't be dealt with and that couldn't go away on its own, that made you want to bang your head against a wall, or curl up into a messy, crying ball and kick at furniture or walls in impotent rage, ignoring the feeling of increasing pain in your knees and feet. It was the crushing, heart-rending sensation - the very essence, in fact - that occurred when you abruptly realized you were completely powerless to do anything, and that your fate was never in your hands to begin with; that you'd lost because the world decided for you.
Harry instantly comprehended the feeling she displayed, and strongly commiserated because he was expertly familiar with that kind of pain.
"Are you alright?"
"No." Her answer was dry and callously straightforward, with grueling, necksnap immediacy - as though she'd expected the question several seconds before he even thought of it, and considered it the stupidest possible question he could've asked. It actually hurt a little, but given she wasn't feeling too well, Harry forgave it.
Tiredly, like an exhausted snake looking for a spot to rest, one of the girl's hands reached under her robe. Then, it stopped, with cold shock, almost recoiling.
Her eyes opened up, wide as saucers. Harry stepped back, cautiously.
"My wand," she said, numbly - the girl forced herself to sit up on the slab, hands patting all over herself in search of an object. "My wand. My wand! Where is it?! Where is it?! Oh Merlin, where is my wand?!"
"I haven't seen it."
"Nooo!" she cried out; almost as a screech, not quite as a gurgle - with a cringe so deep that it was possible to drown in it even with diving equipment and an oxygen canister on hand. She put both hands on her temples and bent over forwards, teeth grit, nose wrinkled in equal parts rage and fear. "My father will kill me. I'm sure he's going to do that. It's going to be the straw that broke the camel's back - the final nail in my epic coffin. I suppose I might as well stay down here." She laughed tremulously.
It was difficult to imagine anyone's father as so excessively violent, and to even consider such a possibility as plausible - let alone as a certainty; a dead-set, foregone conclusion that couldn't be prevented. The Hogwarts supply room maintained a set of no less than seventy-five spares, in a wide variety of cores and woods. And even if that weren't the case, Hogwarts students enjoyed a generous discount on wands and related supplies at Ollivander's. A lost wand honestly didn't seem like such a big deal.
"Because of a wand?"
"It was a family heirloom," she answered, not bothering to look at him. "And I've lost it. My stupidity lost it."
After a second of hopelessly staring in front of herself, the girl finally began to turn, sitting on the edge of the bed. As she did, the girl began to make hand gestures and whisper incantations that Harry only vaguely recognized or understood. Alert, Harry stepped back and prepared to dodge, but none of the spells were directed at him. As a matter of fact, the girl's continued incantations produced a halcyon glow, like spears of morning sunlight emanating from the center of her chest. There were only a scant couple of incanted spells that were self-directed, and she was rattling them off, one by one - including a few that Harry didn't recognize entirely.
The girl paused upon casting a spell that sounded more Chinese in origin, and looked up at him. A blank, expressionless look appeared on her face. It was the haggard face of someone so completely done there weren't any more words that could be used - the look of an animal accepting its promised death. Her eyes were staring, not at Harry, but through him; as though metaphorically drilling a hole through his very being and looking past into the infinite void of cosmic ether that existed between layers of reality. It was as though her soul had decided the only valid option left was to abandon ship.
"Uh... Do I have something on my face?" Harry asked.
Her voice was husky and lifeless, now. The antipode of energy. "No. No, you're fine." She began to laugh, then, disturbingly relaxed and broken. She repeated herself, as though forgetting what she'd said, "No. No, you're fine. I'm the one who's screwed up."
Any, uh, advice, Geist?
Don't look at me. Even Geist sounded fairly disturbed. You're the one who kissed her, not me. Maybe the Draught of Living Death screwed with her brain.
"Are you feeling-" Harry stopped midway through his question, realizing he was about to repeat his mistake, "-actually, no, that's a stupid question, forget it. How about this instead. I'm Harry Potter. What's your name?"
"I..." As though recalled to earthly reality, the husky emptiness vacated her, and she reacted normally - though very unexcitedly, and tiredly. "I suppose, Hecate."
He tilted his head. "You suppose?"
"It doesn't matter," she muttered. "Call me Hecate. I'm Hecate."
It didn't sound like a real name, but Harry chose not to press.
"I noticed that you're proficient with, uh... wandless casting," Harry said, as obliquely as he could given the statement's contents. "Pretty remarkable, that."
"Sure. Whatever," Hecate said, standing up with a knee-shaking weariness from her resting place. Most impressively, she was capable of standing up after what must've been a pretty long while in suspended animation. Maybe one of the spells she'd cast took care of that problem? "Do you know the way out of here?"
"I do."
"Great." She removed her school robe and began to fold it elegantly into a more compact form. She pulled down the bottom of her jumper and frowned, as though unused to the sensation of the cotton over her skin. "Can I borrow your wand for a moment?"
"No," Harry said, as mildly as he was able to. "No offense, but I don't know you."
"Fine," she acquiesced simply, with barely even a hint of disappointment, and no bitterness. He'd almost expected it, so he was pleasantly surprised to find her accepting his justification at face value. "Do you know the Severing Charm? Are you well-practiced with it?"
Harry nodded. "Of course."
She unceremoniously dropped the folded-up school robe to the floor. "Can you dice this up?"
"Why?"
"You ask a lot of questions, Harry Potter," she remarked, "Not very charismatic of you."
He decided to shrug in response, unashamed and uncaring. His response didn't seem to convince her to be more forthcoming, though, and deciding not to stress their already rocky conversation, he decided to acquiesce with her request. His wrist moved in a trained sequence: a flick down, swoop up, curve down and right smoothly. "Diffindo."
A phantasmal flash of chalky dashes and strokes filled the air surrounding the folded robe, blowing away like compressed air, and a fraction of a second later, the Gryffindor robe was cut into thin and short stripes. Hecate looked momentarily impressed with his spellwork but schooled her face when Harry noticed her expression. Hecate bent over and started to pick up the pieces, aiming for the smaller ones; she gathered them in a pile in her hand. After she'd gathered an entire handful, she nodded to herself in satisfaction with the assembled pieces and bits of cloth.
"I'm going back to the surface. It's late and I want to sleep," Harry said. "Are you coming, 'Hecate?'" He stressed the name with subtle skepticism.
"Of course. I'm not planning on staying here," she answered calmly. "Why are you so questioning?"
"You're suspicious," he answered plainly. "Everything about you kind of is."
At least she had the decency to look self-conscious at his remark. After a second, though, she unapologetically folded her arms and raised a challenging eyebrow. "Am I? Am I really, Harry Potter, or are you simply in the wrong?"
"There was a lot you could've said to dispel that image, but a pointless rhetorical question to assert your nonexistent authority over me wasn't one of those things. Maybe next time someone wakes you up from eternal sleep, after having a panic attack, you might be able to say 'thank you,' hm?" Harry managed to bite out, having located some incredible wellspring of teenage sass in him. As casually as when leaving the classroom, he turned around and started the walk to the surface. "Lumos Linea Maxima."
Holy shit, that response was so cold. Geist whistled. Maybe overcoming puberty's largest hurdle sped up your advancement in adolescence? Have you been elegantly matriculated into the arcane techniques of impertinence and cheek?
I don't know. It doesn't change the crux of the matter, though - we have no idea who she is and why she's down here.
Ask her on the way there. Test the waters; maybe we'll find her boat is shaken. Your response was hurtful enough that she might realize how much she's taxed your patience, and extend an olive branch as a form of apology. It's a master-level technique. It's called the guilt trip.
Hmm. I'll have to remember this one - the guilt trip.
Maybe we'll be able to plumb Neville's juicy secrets out of him once you get really good at it. There's an issue with the guilt trip, though: it doesn't work on people who don't care and don't care to care, so to speak. If she's immune, and she might be, we're shit out of luck. If she isn't, well... you'll see - or I'll tell you.
After a long walk up the dungeon, during which they were followed distantly by Harry's rat friends, Hecate did, as predicted by Geist, hesitantly speak up, "I'm sorry for dodging your questions. I didn't feel like answering them."
Excellent. She's not immune. She actually cares about what you think.
What do I do, then?
Keep being cold. You don't like her. There isn't much that's actively dislikeable about you on first glance - especially in that adorable beret - and people have an innate instinct to be liked by the people they do not actively detest. If you pretend you don't like her, she'll cave in, in a desperate attempt to turn yourself to her favor.
I don't really have to pretend, Harry mused.
Even better.
"Mhm," Harry simply hummed in response - utterly disinterested in her words.
"It's a private matter," Hecate continued, as per Geist's predictions. "I'm sorry for being so cross with you, too. I'm thankful for you waking me up."
"Whatever."
An uncomfortable, dead silence dominated the hallway; their footsteps, and the pitter-patter of rats aside, one could probably hear a pin drop. A nasty doubt appeared in Harry's mind, like a haunting specter - did he maybe take it a step too far, crossing over into asshole territory? A second later, though, his doubt was proven wrong.
"...I'm sorry. I- I've been asleep for a while, so I must've really forgotten my manners. One of my father's friends was a Seer, and foresaw... an event, in the near future, so I took a potion in order to essentially skip forward the time, so I could prevent the event he mentioned. I thought I'd prepared everything correctly, and that I'd wake up at the right time, but... apparently, I screwed up. I overshot my target by a slight margin. And... even then, it seems like my intervention wasn't necessary. So I'm going to go and find my father, if he's still around, and talk to him. And maybe, hopefully, convince him not to, like, completely murder me for losing an important family heirloom."
Tell her it's alright, but don't completely drop the matter like it's nothing - anyone reasonable in your position would be at least tentatively curious. Ask her, once and not any more after that, if she's willing to share more about her circumstances, but when she says she doesn't, simply accept it. It'll make you look reasonable, but more concerned with being a gentleman who cares about people's feelings than an ardent, inherently suspicious knowledge-seeker.
"It's alright," Harry replied, settling down in his external glumness. "I shouldn't have judged you for wanting to keep a secret. I assume you don't want to say anything else, about the event itself, or the other stuff?"
"I... would prefer not to."
"That's fine," Harry said with a shrug. "Actually, one thing - why was there a bunch of colorful roses growing around you?"
"I-" Hecate stopped, then recalled the overall shape and contents of the chamber she was in, and narrowed her eyes in puzzlement. "I genuinely have no clue."
She's actually being honest on this, as far as I can tell.
"Maybe it's related to whoever or whatever took your wand," Harry posited a theory.
"Maybe. I'll have to go back there and find out, some other time." She didn't sound pleased about it. "I am sorry, though - about everything. I hope you forgive me."
Harry nodded.
Given how smoothly the conversation had ended, from then on, their silence was a fraction more bearable - amicable, almost.
Interrresting.
Any idea who she is? Harry asked.
No. The opposite, actually - all the new information has only rendered her more mysterious.
So, what do you know?
The event she's talking about was me ingloriously killing myself in Godric's Hollow, or something related to that entire debacle - it's the only notable event that's occurred this century. Maybe she was aiming to stop Grindelwald, but I doubt anyone in the world can brew a Draught of Living Death that's so fucking good it stays active for what'd probably be, like, over a century. It was something that'd happen within the shelf life of the Draught, but that she'd be too old to stop without taking one. Around a century sounds correct - however, that raises other questions. The Hogwarts uniform was a little different back then. Did you notice how fidgety she was in her clothes? I'm willing to consider those clothes might not have been originally hers. I'm not sure on this part for several other reasons, though. Like, why does she need a bunch of dark cloth scraps? Did she do that simply to confuse us, or is that part of some other spell? Dark Arts sometimes use metaphysical connections, but that's way past her level.
Two possibilities. She is - or used to be - a Gryffindor student at Hogwarts; or she stole her robes. I don't know which is more likely, because I don't know enough about her habits. There's compelling evidence for both sides of the argument. Her chosen sobriquet - the goddess of magic. A generalization meant to indicate nothing and obscure her identity, or deep-rooted arrogance. Interestingly, given her displayed behaviors so far, I am unsure which one - she's excellent at concealing her own emotions. An Occlumens, I bet, though I wouldn't test her. A spy maybe? I doubt she's an agent of Dumbledore or anything like that, but who knows. Anything might be true at this point.
Do you believe her, though? Harry asked. About her story?
Definitely. Oh, she's inserted a few white lies here and there, twisted some meanings to conceal the truth, and probably didn't mention an entire bucket of details; but overall, Occlumens or not, I'm too good at reading people to miss the major facts. I can sense that she was being honest, although only in general terms. Also, it also makes sense and lines up with the tangible evidence. Her story's general shape is almost certainly true - someone in her past was a powerful Seer, told her that something inconceivably terrible would happen at an appointed date sometime this century, and she drank a potion in a hopeless endeavor to stop it personally. And that's where the evidence comes in - this action is textbook for someone who's a brash, idealistic idiot; something you might expect of a person wearing the Gryffindor coat of arms on their chest.
However, on the other hand, despite her seeming absence of conventional wisdom, and rather shoddy execution of her plan, she's also uncannily smart and talented: notice the fact that she was able to either procure or brew such an advanced potion at her age, and she's very adept with wandless casting. Actually, some of those spells she cast on herself indicate she's extremely adept with spellcasting in general, and shouldn't be taken for granted. She's definitely a peer to you, not only in age, but in raw talent.
Any plans?
Eh, I'd let her go.
Harry blinked. Seriously? Why?
There's no point chasing after her, or her secrets. We can do that later. After all, she'll be malingering around Hogwarts for years to come, assuming she doesn't eventually figure out some way to rejoin the student body.
How come?
Because she's spying on you. If she was actually in so much pain, and fear of her father, and so concerned with getting out of here - which, having 'failed' her mission, she should - there'd be no reason to get invested in you as an individual and seek your forgiveness. You were already leading her out. She could've kept her secrets, kept you in the dark, and returned to doing whatever it is she usually does. And yet...
She did. She asked my forgiveness.
Yes. And there comes the biggest part of the mystery - why spy on you? Are you related to her mission after all? A point of evidence in favor of me being related to the event. But then, she didn't seem to recognize your name either. So how does she know you're involved? And there's another angle to consider - is she the actual cause of that ghastly shrieking we've heard, or is that something unrelated?
Damn, Harry thought, realizing how much he didn't know.
And that's why I said that she's interrrresting. A big Hogwarts mystery unfolds in front of us.
Harry cast a furtive look back at Hecate and noticed her staring at the back of his head.
She immediately looked away at a blank painting frame, pretending she hadn't been doing anything suspicious.
---
After that most fascinating event, Harry and Hecate parted ways in the upper dungeon levels - he didn't see her again for the immediate future. And maybe that's fine, because he was more focused on education. Here is your curriculum for March and April --
Astronomy
*Irrelevant
Charms
*Free Practice
*Softening Charm (Practice)
*Levitation Charm (Practice)
*Featherlight Charm (Practice)
*Fire-Making Charm (Practice)
**Private Tutoring (Smokescreen Spell, Advanced Dueling techniques; actual simulated Duels against Flitwick himself - he'll go easy on you)
DADA
*Gargoyles
*A treasure hunt exercise where students must count the non-sentient Gargoyles of the castle and come back with code words the sentient gargoyles give out. Each word is part of a clue that leads to a chest somewhere on campus. This chest has tokens of proof that the task was completed. The Count is 25% of the grade, gathering all the pieces of the puzzle is another 25% of the grade. Returning to the class with the token is 50% of the grade. After staring at the stars as he regularly does, Harry figured out something like this might happen, and prepared accordingly - he'll pass with a 100% grade and help his friends do the same.
*Dark Wizards and the Dark Arts
*Herpo the Foul
*Morgana le Fay
*Maladora Grymm (Oddly familiar, this figure)
*Hags
Herbology
*Spiky Bush
*Daisies & Dandelions
*Gouging Spell / Practice
*Herbological Lore - Metaphysical Meaning of Plant Life
*Revision
*Herbology Project (Pick any plant you've learned about this year and cultivate it for next year. By default, Harry is going to pay someone else to do this for him, because he considers this a waste of time, but you can have him do this instead, if you consider it important for his education.)
History of Magic
*Hermetic Magecraft
*The Consideration of Forms by Plato
Potions
*The Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood, Part I
*The Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood, Part II
*Flobberworm Mucus Collection & Proper Squeezing Technique
*Azurenut Extract (as well as how to render it into an essential oil)
*Wiggenbark Extract
Transfiguration
*How Forms Affect Magic
*Practice
*Methodology
*Field Trip - Professor Pettigrew takes the class out to the lake and challenges everyone to transform nearby objects into the most comfortable seating arrangement they can come up with. A pretty comfy event; everyone experiences ++Pettigrew.
Now, is there anything that you'd like Harry to focus on or expand on?
[ ] Write-in
[ ] Maintain Standard Coursework - A balanced spreadsheet of skills.
[ ] Prepare For Astronomy OWLs - Harry's already considering the possibility, given a few glances at OWLs from previous years. At this rate, he'll easily be able to write his OWLs in the first months of his 2nd Year. If you select Excelsior, he may be able to do so this year instead.
At the moment you have 31.5 Gnosis.
[ ] Excelsior [7 Gnosis] - All of your learning endeavors are doubled for next trimester; applies evenly to your Domains of Greatness.
[ ] Eternal [Astrology] Mastery [14 Gnosis] - Attain complete [Master]-y, in the fields of Astronomy and Astrology. All of the remaining 5th Year syllabus will become clear and translucent to you, and everything else up to 7th Year won't be that far behind. Discounts Dark Astrology.
[ ] Rending of Untold Infinities [25 Gnosis] - Attain [Master] in the fields of Astronomy and Astrology, and then make significant progress towards [Archmaster]. A stupefying level of advancement. All through sheer talent, you become more knowledgeable in these fields than your own teacher!
[ ] Eternal [Ancient Runes] Mastery [32 Gnosis] - Attain complete [Master]-y in the field of Ancient Runes, and [Proficient] in the field of Transfiguration. If you even bother taking Ancient Runes as an elective, you're sure to ace it.
As usual, up to three (3) selections:
[ ] Homework - A dedication to your studies and student duties; not only do your homework, but go an extra step and a half for every assignment, and then do some ahead-of-curriculum reading for the topics involved, simply to be prepared and ahead of the curve. You're now learning the second year curriculum.
[ ] Experimentation - Play around with magic you know, as well as magic you barely know; either produce novel results or learn to cast spells you know in slightly fresher and more interesting ways. Alternatively, burn down your desk for nothing as you miscast, but at least it'll verify what doesn't work.
[ ] Write-in (As a few other examples of potential activities: explore the castle, sneak into the kitchen, familiarize with student body, etc.)
---
Here's a character sheet for this quest.
As a reminder, you can join Discord here for discussion, as well as alert pings to let you know an update is going to come out in a short while. All discussion on Discord counts partially towards your Gnosis progression and offers boosted rewards if relevant parts of discussion are reposted in the thread.
Ah, this felt so awkward. Harry braced his arms on the sides of the girl's head, then leaned down steadily, and hovered a few inches above her face, with hesitation dancing and singing in his chest like a string of pearls, where every pearl was its own sort of doubt.
It was a difficult action to even consider - let alone accomplish, especially with a straight face and ledger. How does one simply kiss a girl? A sleeping girl that doesn't even know she is receiving a kiss, no matter how noble its purpose? How could a Disney prince do this so casually in that one movie?
As if guided by some innate divine epiphany, he realized that his absence of valor concerning the kissing of girls must've originated from some deeper and darker place; a deep-rooted insecurity that slumbered for some time in his heart, and emerged to haunt him for no reason other than to punish him for being a meek weakling.
As the rats behind devoured their prize, one of them spoke through its chewing snout, "Hey, that human is about to bite the sleeping human."
He felt embarrassed, cheeks heating up. Or maybe, there was no divine epiphany after all, and he was simply going through the nasty, confusing, early stages of male puberty.
Just imagine you're wearing the Invisibility Cloak or something. No moral repercussions.
Imagining that didn't help. It wasn't about morality - although that part was skeevy, too. It was about Harry's emotions simply not allowing him to perform the action requested of him, as though someone had tied a cord around his brain. However, it caused Harry to consider other scenarios that could make this situation easier - none of them worked particularly well, even as he kept sorting through them with a kind of conscientious focus; attempting to find the right button for the open slot, so to speak.
And then, suddenly, Harry's accumulated weariness, like an ocean of turbulent fatigue, shattered the dams of delicate anxiety that had kept it at bay, steering a blank canvas of apathy and sudden, fierce determination to overtake his heart. It came from somewhere even deeper than mere anxiety. He acquired a resolved look. He would kiss this girl, and he would do this now, with not a second more of pointless dilly-dallying and foot-scorched dancing around the subject. After checking his breath to make sure it wasn't nasty, fixing up his hair a bit, and correcting his glasses so they wouldn't get in the way, he leaned further down and, finally, placed a chaste smooch on her lips.
Harry leaned away from the unconscious girl.
Almost unexpectedly - as though in an epically unforeseen anticlimax - nothing bad or strange happened to him or his emotions.
Feeling faintly surprised with this placid outcome, Harry thought to himself, Actually, that wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be - I didn't even freak out or anything. Huh. It turns out kissing people is overrated.
However, there was another concern worming itself in Harry's mind. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Why isn't she waking up, though, Geist?
It's simple, Geist interjected, You've spent so long deliberating whether or not to kiss this girl that the Wiggenweld fluid formerly on your lips has had enough time to dry up, evaporate into the air, begin dating a particularly nice cloud of Angel's Trumpet Draught fumes, make a family, find a steady well-paying job, find out that its wife was cheating, get a divorce, return to your lips, cry itself to sleep, die alone, and evaporate once more, into the afterlife. Apply some more and do it again, dumbass.
Begrudgingly, with a discontented look, Harry again pulled out the small flask of healing potions on his belt, applied a new touch of fluid to his lips, and then leaned back down. He kissed the girl on the lips again, modestly.
Immediately, he noticed the appreciable difference between attempts. The very second their lips made contact, she coughed harshly, and began to wrack and seize, eyes shutting even tighter in burning pain; hissing, seizing, and groaning, as though she were deeply sick.
"Am I that bad of a kisser?" Harry pondered to himself, saddened by this information, but not particularly troubled - he was no longer afraid of the fairer sex.
No. That's a normal reaction to not having oxygen in your lungs for Merlin-knows-how-long.
After a couple of seconds of coughing and making strangled noises with her throat, the girl's eyes opened with pained lethargy. They immediately turned, in order to track Harry in the corner of her vision - she attempted to open her mouth to say something, but what came out was a sound somewhere between a horrendous cough and a screech. She curled into herself a little, in response to the pain, as Harry observed with steadily growing concern. He wasn't sure this was a normal reaction anymore.
After it was over, the girl spent a single minute breathing, and Harry stood by her side.
"Year," she muttered questingly, not a mote of strength in her voice.
"Year?"
"...what year is it?" A demanding tone made its way into her voice; portraying strength in spite of her rather pathetic state.
"1992."
She closed her eyes. An indescribably bitter and disappointed look appeared on her face; an emotional pain on a scale of blank, dull agony - a pain that couldn't be dealt with and that couldn't go away on its own, that made you want to bang your head against a wall, or curl up into a messy, crying ball and kick at furniture or walls in impotent rage, ignoring the feeling of increasing pain in your knees and feet. It was the crushing, heart-rending sensation - the very essence, in fact - that occurred when you abruptly realized you were completely powerless to do anything, and that your fate was never in your hands to begin with; that you'd lost because the world decided for you.
Harry instantly comprehended the feeling she displayed, and strongly commiserated because he was expertly familiar with that kind of pain.
"Are you alright?"
"No." Her answer was dry and callously straightforward, with grueling, necksnap immediacy - as though she'd expected the question several seconds before he even thought of it, and considered it the stupidest possible question he could've asked. It actually hurt a little, but given she wasn't feeling too well, Harry forgave it.
Tiredly, like an exhausted snake looking for a spot to rest, one of the girl's hands reached under her robe. Then, it stopped, with cold shock, almost recoiling.
Her eyes opened up, wide as saucers. Harry stepped back, cautiously.
"My wand," she said, numbly - the girl forced herself to sit up on the slab, hands patting all over herself in search of an object. "My wand. My wand! Where is it?! Where is it?! Oh Merlin, where is my wand?!"
"I haven't seen it."
"Nooo!" she cried out; almost as a screech, not quite as a gurgle - with a cringe so deep that it was possible to drown in it even with diving equipment and an oxygen canister on hand. She put both hands on her temples and bent over forwards, teeth grit, nose wrinkled in equal parts rage and fear. "My father will kill me. I'm sure he's going to do that. It's going to be the straw that broke the camel's back - the final nail in my epic coffin. I suppose I might as well stay down here." She laughed tremulously.
It was difficult to imagine anyone's father as so excessively violent, and to even consider such a possibility as plausible - let alone as a certainty; a dead-set, foregone conclusion that couldn't be prevented. The Hogwarts supply room maintained a set of no less than seventy-five spares, in a wide variety of cores and woods. And even if that weren't the case, Hogwarts students enjoyed a generous discount on wands and related supplies at Ollivander's. A lost wand honestly didn't seem like such a big deal.
"Because of a wand?"
"It was a family heirloom," she answered, not bothering to look at him. "And I've lost it. My stupidity lost it."
After a second of hopelessly staring in front of herself, the girl finally began to turn, sitting on the edge of the bed. As she did, the girl began to make hand gestures and whisper incantations that Harry only vaguely recognized or understood. Alert, Harry stepped back and prepared to dodge, but none of the spells were directed at him. As a matter of fact, the girl's continued incantations produced a halcyon glow, like spears of morning sunlight emanating from the center of her chest. There were only a scant couple of incanted spells that were self-directed, and she was rattling them off, one by one - including a few that Harry didn't recognize entirely.
The girl paused upon casting a spell that sounded more Chinese in origin, and looked up at him. A blank, expressionless look appeared on her face. It was the haggard face of someone so completely done there weren't any more words that could be used - the look of an animal accepting its promised death. Her eyes were staring, not at Harry, but through him; as though metaphorically drilling a hole through his very being and looking past into the infinite void of cosmic ether that existed between layers of reality. It was as though her soul had decided the only valid option left was to abandon ship.
"Uh... Do I have something on my face?" Harry asked.
Her voice was husky and lifeless, now. The antipode of energy. "No. No, you're fine." She began to laugh, then, disturbingly relaxed and broken. She repeated herself, as though forgetting what she'd said, "No. No, you're fine. I'm the one who's screwed up."
Any, uh, advice, Geist?
Don't look at me. Even Geist sounded fairly disturbed. You're the one who kissed her, not me. Maybe the Draught of Living Death screwed with her brain.
"Are you feeling-" Harry stopped midway through his question, realizing he was about to repeat his mistake, "-actually, no, that's a stupid question, forget it. How about this instead. I'm Harry Potter. What's your name?"
"I..." As though recalled to earthly reality, the husky emptiness vacated her, and she reacted normally - though very unexcitedly, and tiredly. "I suppose, Hecate."
He tilted his head. "You suppose?"
"It doesn't matter," she muttered. "Call me Hecate. I'm Hecate."
It didn't sound like a real name, but Harry chose not to press.
"I noticed that you're proficient with, uh... wandless casting," Harry said, as obliquely as he could given the statement's contents. "Pretty remarkable, that."
"Sure. Whatever," Hecate said, standing up with a knee-shaking weariness from her resting place. Most impressively, she was capable of standing up after what must've been a pretty long while in suspended animation. Maybe one of the spells she'd cast took care of that problem? "Do you know the way out of here?"
"I do."
"Great." She removed her school robe and began to fold it elegantly into a more compact form. She pulled down the bottom of her jumper and frowned, as though unused to the sensation of the cotton over her skin. "Can I borrow your wand for a moment?"
"No," Harry said, as mildly as he was able to. "No offense, but I don't know you."
"Fine," she acquiesced simply, with barely even a hint of disappointment, and no bitterness. He'd almost expected it, so he was pleasantly surprised to find her accepting his justification at face value. "Do you know the Severing Charm? Are you well-practiced with it?"
Harry nodded. "Of course."
She unceremoniously dropped the folded-up school robe to the floor. "Can you dice this up?"
"Why?"
"You ask a lot of questions, Harry Potter," she remarked, "Not very charismatic of you."
He decided to shrug in response, unashamed and uncaring. His response didn't seem to convince her to be more forthcoming, though, and deciding not to stress their already rocky conversation, he decided to acquiesce with her request. His wrist moved in a trained sequence: a flick down, swoop up, curve down and right smoothly. "Diffindo."
A phantasmal flash of chalky dashes and strokes filled the air surrounding the folded robe, blowing away like compressed air, and a fraction of a second later, the Gryffindor robe was cut into thin and short stripes. Hecate looked momentarily impressed with his spellwork but schooled her face when Harry noticed her expression. Hecate bent over and started to pick up the pieces, aiming for the smaller ones; she gathered them in a pile in her hand. After she'd gathered an entire handful, she nodded to herself in satisfaction with the assembled pieces and bits of cloth.
"I'm going back to the surface. It's late and I want to sleep," Harry said. "Are you coming, 'Hecate?'" He stressed the name with subtle skepticism.
"Of course. I'm not planning on staying here," she answered calmly. "Why are you so questioning?"
"You're suspicious," he answered plainly. "Everything about you kind of is."
At least she had the decency to look self-conscious at his remark. After a second, though, she unapologetically folded her arms and raised a challenging eyebrow. "Am I? Am I really, Harry Potter, or are you simply in the wrong?"
"There was a lot you could've said to dispel that image, but a pointless rhetorical question to assert your nonexistent authority over me wasn't one of those things. Maybe next time someone wakes you up from eternal sleep, after having a panic attack, you might be able to say 'thank you,' hm?" Harry managed to bite out, having located some incredible wellspring of teenage sass in him. As casually as when leaving the classroom, he turned around and started the walk to the surface. "Lumos Linea Maxima."
Holy shit, that response was so cold. Geist whistled. Maybe overcoming puberty's largest hurdle sped up your advancement in adolescence? Have you been elegantly matriculated into the arcane techniques of impertinence and cheek?
I don't know. It doesn't change the crux of the matter, though - we have no idea who she is and why she's down here.
Ask her on the way there. Test the waters; maybe we'll find her boat is shaken. Your response was hurtful enough that she might realize how much she's taxed your patience, and extend an olive branch as a form of apology. It's a master-level technique. It's called the guilt trip.
Hmm. I'll have to remember this one - the guilt trip.
Maybe we'll be able to plumb Neville's juicy secrets out of him once you get really good at it. There's an issue with the guilt trip, though: it doesn't work on people who don't care and don't care to care, so to speak. If she's immune, and she might be, we're shit out of luck. If she isn't, well... you'll see - or I'll tell you.
After a long walk up the dungeon, during which they were followed distantly by Harry's rat friends, Hecate did, as predicted by Geist, hesitantly speak up, "I'm sorry for dodging your questions. I didn't feel like answering them."
Excellent. She's not immune. She actually cares about what you think.
What do I do, then?
Keep being cold. You don't like her. There isn't much that's actively dislikeable about you on first glance - especially in that adorable beret - and people have an innate instinct to be liked by the people they do not actively detest. If you pretend you don't like her, she'll cave in, in a desperate attempt to turn yourself to her favor.
I don't really have to pretend, Harry mused.
Even better.
"Mhm," Harry simply hummed in response - utterly disinterested in her words.
"It's a private matter," Hecate continued, as per Geist's predictions. "I'm sorry for being so cross with you, too. I'm thankful for you waking me up."
"Whatever."
An uncomfortable, dead silence dominated the hallway; their footsteps, and the pitter-patter of rats aside, one could probably hear a pin drop. A nasty doubt appeared in Harry's mind, like a haunting specter - did he maybe take it a step too far, crossing over into asshole territory? A second later, though, his doubt was proven wrong.
"...I'm sorry. I- I've been asleep for a while, so I must've really forgotten my manners. One of my father's friends was a Seer, and foresaw... an event, in the near future, so I took a potion in order to essentially skip forward the time, so I could prevent the event he mentioned. I thought I'd prepared everything correctly, and that I'd wake up at the right time, but... apparently, I screwed up. I overshot my target by a slight margin. And... even then, it seems like my intervention wasn't necessary. So I'm going to go and find my father, if he's still around, and talk to him. And maybe, hopefully, convince him not to, like, completely murder me for losing an important family heirloom."
Tell her it's alright, but don't completely drop the matter like it's nothing - anyone reasonable in your position would be at least tentatively curious. Ask her, once and not any more after that, if she's willing to share more about her circumstances, but when she says she doesn't, simply accept it. It'll make you look reasonable, but more concerned with being a gentleman who cares about people's feelings than an ardent, inherently suspicious knowledge-seeker.
"It's alright," Harry replied, settling down in his external glumness. "I shouldn't have judged you for wanting to keep a secret. I assume you don't want to say anything else, about the event itself, or the other stuff?"
"I... would prefer not to."
"That's fine," Harry said with a shrug. "Actually, one thing - why was there a bunch of colorful roses growing around you?"
"I-" Hecate stopped, then recalled the overall shape and contents of the chamber she was in, and narrowed her eyes in puzzlement. "I genuinely have no clue."
She's actually being honest on this, as far as I can tell.
"Maybe it's related to whoever or whatever took your wand," Harry posited a theory.
"Maybe. I'll have to go back there and find out, some other time." She didn't sound pleased about it. "I am sorry, though - about everything. I hope you forgive me."
Harry nodded.
Given how smoothly the conversation had ended, from then on, their silence was a fraction more bearable - amicable, almost.
Interrresting.
Any idea who she is? Harry asked.
No. The opposite, actually - all the new information has only rendered her more mysterious.
So, what do you know?
The event she's talking about was me ingloriously killing myself in Godric's Hollow, or something related to that entire debacle - it's the only notable event that's occurred this century. Maybe she was aiming to stop Grindelwald, but I doubt anyone in the world can brew a Draught of Living Death that's so fucking good it stays active for what'd probably be, like, over a century. It was something that'd happen within the shelf life of the Draught, but that she'd be too old to stop without taking one. Around a century sounds correct - however, that raises other questions. The Hogwarts uniform was a little different back then. Did you notice how fidgety she was in her clothes? I'm willing to consider those clothes might not have been originally hers. I'm not sure on this part for several other reasons, though. Like, why does she need a bunch of dark cloth scraps? Did she do that simply to confuse us, or is that part of some other spell? Dark Arts sometimes use metaphysical connections, but that's way past her level.
Two possibilities. She is - or used to be - a Gryffindor student at Hogwarts; or she stole her robes. I don't know which is more likely, because I don't know enough about her habits. There's compelling evidence for both sides of the argument. Her chosen sobriquet - the goddess of magic. A generalization meant to indicate nothing and obscure her identity, or deep-rooted arrogance. Interestingly, given her displayed behaviors so far, I am unsure which one - she's excellent at concealing her own emotions. An Occlumens, I bet, though I wouldn't test her. A spy maybe? I doubt she's an agent of Dumbledore or anything like that, but who knows. Anything might be true at this point.
Do you believe her, though? Harry asked. About her story?
Definitely. Oh, she's inserted a few white lies here and there, twisted some meanings to conceal the truth, and probably didn't mention an entire bucket of details; but overall, Occlumens or not, I'm too good at reading people to miss the major facts. I can sense that she was being honest, although only in general terms. Also, it also makes sense and lines up with the tangible evidence. Her story's general shape is almost certainly true - someone in her past was a powerful Seer, told her that something inconceivably terrible would happen at an appointed date sometime this century, and she drank a potion in a hopeless endeavor to stop it personally. And that's where the evidence comes in - this action is textbook for someone who's a brash, idealistic idiot; something you might expect of a person wearing the Gryffindor coat of arms on their chest.
However, on the other hand, despite her seeming absence of conventional wisdom, and rather shoddy execution of her plan, she's also uncannily smart and talented: notice the fact that she was able to either procure or brew such an advanced potion at her age, and she's very adept with wandless casting. Actually, some of those spells she cast on herself indicate she's extremely adept with spellcasting in general, and shouldn't be taken for granted. She's definitely a peer to you, not only in age, but in raw talent.
Any plans?
Eh, I'd let her go.
Harry blinked. Seriously? Why?
There's no point chasing after her, or her secrets. We can do that later. After all, she'll be malingering around Hogwarts for years to come, assuming she doesn't eventually figure out some way to rejoin the student body.
How come?
Because she's spying on you. If she was actually in so much pain, and fear of her father, and so concerned with getting out of here - which, having 'failed' her mission, she should - there'd be no reason to get invested in you as an individual and seek your forgiveness. You were already leading her out. She could've kept her secrets, kept you in the dark, and returned to doing whatever it is she usually does. And yet...
She did. She asked my forgiveness.
Yes. And there comes the biggest part of the mystery - why spy on you? Are you related to her mission after all? A point of evidence in favor of me being related to the event. But then, she didn't seem to recognize your name either. So how does she know you're involved? And there's another angle to consider - is she the actual cause of that ghastly shrieking we've heard, or is that something unrelated?
Damn, Harry thought, realizing how much he didn't know.
And that's why I said that she's interrrresting. A big Hogwarts mystery unfolds in front of us.
Harry cast a furtive look back at Hecate and noticed her staring at the back of his head.
She immediately looked away at a blank painting frame, pretending she hadn't been doing anything suspicious.
---
After that most fascinating event, Harry and Hecate parted ways in the upper dungeon levels - he didn't see her again for the immediate future. And maybe that's fine, because he was more focused on education. Here is your curriculum for March and April --
Astronomy
*Irrelevant
Charms
*Free Practice
*Softening Charm (Practice)
*Levitation Charm (Practice)
*Featherlight Charm (Practice)
*Fire-Making Charm (Practice)
**Private Tutoring (Smokescreen Spell, Advanced Dueling techniques; actual simulated Duels against Flitwick himself - he'll go easy on you)
DADA
*Gargoyles
*A treasure hunt exercise where students must count the non-sentient Gargoyles of the castle and come back with code words the sentient gargoyles give out. Each word is part of a clue that leads to a chest somewhere on campus. This chest has tokens of proof that the task was completed. The Count is 25% of the grade, gathering all the pieces of the puzzle is another 25% of the grade. Returning to the class with the token is 50% of the grade. After staring at the stars as he regularly does, Harry figured out something like this might happen, and prepared accordingly - he'll pass with a 100% grade and help his friends do the same.
*Dark Wizards and the Dark Arts
*Herpo the Foul
*Morgana le Fay
*Maladora Grymm (Oddly familiar, this figure)
*Hags
Herbology
*Spiky Bush
*Daisies & Dandelions
*Gouging Spell / Practice
*Herbological Lore - Metaphysical Meaning of Plant Life
*Revision
*Herbology Project (Pick any plant you've learned about this year and cultivate it for next year. By default, Harry is going to pay someone else to do this for him, because he considers this a waste of time, but you can have him do this instead, if you consider it important for his education.)
History of Magic
*Hermetic Magecraft
*The Consideration of Forms by Plato
Potions
*The Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood, Part I
*The Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood, Part II
*Flobberworm Mucus Collection & Proper Squeezing Technique
*Azurenut Extract (as well as how to render it into an essential oil)
*Wiggenbark Extract
Transfiguration
*How Forms Affect Magic
*Practice
*Methodology
*Field Trip - Professor Pettigrew takes the class out to the lake and challenges everyone to transform nearby objects into the most comfortable seating arrangement they can come up with. A pretty comfy event; everyone experiences ++Pettigrew.
Now, is there anything that you'd like Harry to focus on or expand on?
[ ] Write-in
[ ] Maintain Standard Coursework - A balanced spreadsheet of skills.
[ ] Prepare For Astronomy OWLs - Harry's already considering the possibility, given a few glances at OWLs from previous years. At this rate, he'll easily be able to write his OWLs in the first months of his 2nd Year. If you select Excelsior, he may be able to do so this year instead.
At the moment you have 31.5 Gnosis.
[ ] Excelsior [7 Gnosis] - All of your learning endeavors are doubled for next trimester; applies evenly to your Domains of Greatness.
[ ] Eternal [Astrology] Mastery [14 Gnosis] - Attain complete [Master]-y, in the fields of Astronomy and Astrology. All of the remaining 5th Year syllabus will become clear and translucent to you, and everything else up to 7th Year won't be that far behind. Discounts Dark Astrology.
[ ] Rending of Untold Infinities [25 Gnosis] - Attain [Master] in the fields of Astronomy and Astrology, and then make significant progress towards [Archmaster]. A stupefying level of advancement. All through sheer talent, you become more knowledgeable in these fields than your own teacher!
[ ] Eternal [Ancient Runes] Mastery [32 Gnosis] - Attain complete [Master]-y in the field of Ancient Runes, and [Proficient] in the field of Transfiguration. If you even bother taking Ancient Runes as an elective, you're sure to ace it.
As usual, up to three (3) selections:
[ ] Homework - A dedication to your studies and student duties; not only do your homework, but go an extra step and a half for every assignment, and then do some ahead-of-curriculum reading for the topics involved, simply to be prepared and ahead of the curve. You're now learning the second year curriculum.
[ ] Experimentation - Play around with magic you know, as well as magic you barely know; either produce novel results or learn to cast spells you know in slightly fresher and more interesting ways. Alternatively, burn down your desk for nothing as you miscast, but at least it'll verify what doesn't work.
[ ] Write-in (As a few other examples of potential activities: explore the castle, sneak into the kitchen, familiarize with student body, etc.)
---
Here's a character sheet for this quest.
As a reminder, you can join Discord here for discussion, as well as alert pings to let you know an update is going to come out in a short while. All discussion on Discord counts partially towards your Gnosis progression and offers boosted rewards if relevant parts of discussion are reposted in the thread.
- Location
- California
Is this the part where we take Ancient Runes mastery, to decipher the Guardian (or whoever that was)?
StarSerpent
Upjumped Peasant
- Location
- Cowtown, AB
Geist is quickly becoming my favorite in-quest character.
Harry's not too bad, but that's mostly because of Geist's good influence on him.
...also, is Hogwarts just used to having unknown randos just walking around the place without anyone remarking on it?
- Location
- California
Ariana Dumbledore
Ariana Dumbledore (c. 1885 – summer 1899)[1] was an English half-blood witch and the youngest child and only daughter of Percival and Kendra Dumbledore. She was the younger sister of Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore. At the age of six, Ariana was attacked by Muggle boys who saw her practising...
harrypotter.fandom.com
"During a fit when she was fourteen years old, Ariana accidentally caused a magical explosion that killed her mother. Her older brother Albus then became her guardian, a role that he resented."
I posit that this is our Hecate. Her "father" is Dumbledore, and her father's friend the seer was Grindelwald.
[] Tell Dumbledore we kissed his sister (kudos to Birdsie for that hypothetical)
Last edited:
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
To be fair, it was the middle of the night. Despite what the teachers would have you believe, sneaking out unnoticed of the castle at such an hour is not that difficult. There's only so many places that Filch can co-locate to at one time.
As tempting as it is to write our Astronomy OWL this semester, we probably really shouldn't.
Let's go on another adventure then, god damn it.
Where though? What will we do? Maybe sneak out of the castle for some shit? Take a portkey or something somewhere?
I also think that we should share Baruffio's Brain Elixir with the Apothecary division from the inner circle, as well as spend time working with engineering/getting to know people there.
I really like this since Grindelwald *is* a seer.
Let's go on another adventure then, god damn it.
Where though? What will we do? Maybe sneak out of the castle for some shit? Take a portkey or something somewhere?
I also think that we should share Baruffio's Brain Elixir with the Apothecary division from the inner circle, as well as spend time working with engineering/getting to know people there.
Ariana Dumbledore
Ariana Dumbledore (c. 1885 – summer 1899)[1] was an English half-blood witch and the youngest child and only daughter of Percival and Kendra Dumbledore. She was the younger sister of Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore. At the age of six, Ariana was attacked by Muggle boys who saw her practising...
"During a fit when she was fourteen years old, Ariana accidentally caused a magical explosion that killed her mother. Her older brother Albus then became her guardian, a role that he resented."
I posit that this is our Hecate. Her "father" is Dumbledore, and her father's friend the seer was Grindelwald.
[] Tell Dumbledore we kissed his sister (kudos to Birdsie for that hypothetical)
I really like this since Grindelwald *is* a seer.
Last edited:
[]Plan: Active exam preparation
- [] Prepare For Astronomy OWLs
- [] Excelsior [7 Gnosis]
- [] Homework
-[] Develop the hogwarts rats into a spy network, bribing them with all the cheese you can muster. Have them inform you of any suspicious comings and goings, basically anything noteworthy.
-[] Socialize more with the Hufflepuff inner circle. Consult Geist about sharing Baruffio's Brain Elixir with the Hufflepuff Apothecary division. Work with the Engineers and spend time socializing with the inner circle.
Damn it, passing the owls in the first year is what will create Harry's reputation as a genius, and I really want to see it.
------------------------------
Changed the plan.
- [] Prepare For Astronomy OWLs
- [] Excelsior [7 Gnosis]
- [] Homework
-[] Develop the hogwarts rats into a spy network, bribing them with all the cheese you can muster. Have them inform you of any suspicious comings and goings, basically anything noteworthy.
-[] Socialize more with the Hufflepuff inner circle. Consult Geist about sharing Baruffio's Brain Elixir with the Hufflepuff Apothecary division. Work with the Engineers and spend time socializing with the inner circle.
Damn it, passing the owls in the first year is what will create Harry's reputation as a genius, and I really want to see it.
------------------------------
Changed the plan.
Last edited:
- Location
- Louisiana
[X] Plan: You Won't Get a Cent Out of Me
-[X] Research the Patronus, finally deciding to look into the strange incident when picking your wand. Approach Sirius, see if he knows anything about it.
-[X] Homework
-[X] Develop the hogwarts rats into a spy network, bribing them with all the cheese you can muster. Have them inform you of any suspicious comings and goings, basically anything noteworthy.
-[X] Socialize more with the Hufflepuff inner circle. Consult Geist about sharing Baruffio's Brain Elixir with the Hufflepuff Apothecary division. Work with the Engineers and spend time socializing with the inner circle.
-[X] Research the Patronus, finally deciding to look into the strange incident when picking your wand. Approach Sirius, see if he knows anything about it.
-[X] Homework
-[X] Develop the hogwarts rats into a spy network, bribing them with all the cheese you can muster. Have them inform you of any suspicious comings and goings, basically anything noteworthy.
-[X] Socialize more with the Hufflepuff inner circle. Consult Geist about sharing Baruffio's Brain Elixir with the Hufflepuff Apothecary division. Work with the Engineers and spend time socializing with the inner circle.
Last edited:
- Location
- Israel
Okay, now that really sounds... off.
We can only choose up to 3 activities for each turn.
May I also interest you with the idea of bringing up the Baruffio's Brain Elixir to the Apothecary Division within the inner circle? If they can brew it and spread it around for us then it would be a huge benefit to us.
I would word it as hanging out with the inner division, sharing our brain elixir, spending time in engineering and improving our craft.
Also, I would recommend that we ask Sirius to help us with the Patronus, rather than just learning it ourselves.
- Location
- Louisiana
Patronus was the learning focus, wanted it to kinda be the focus of the turn but the saving felt more important. I'd assume we'd ask Sirius for help, since he is our teacher for DADA and once researching the patronus we'd find out it's a high level DADA charm.
Edit: if we need a broader focus I can switch rat spys to patronus, and the learning focus to either astronomy or general studies. Cant think of much else to focus on right now that takes our strengths into account.
Last edited:
Ah I see.
I'm unsure if we should try to learn the Patronus charm right now instead of trying to increase our Gnosis amount and then just dump all of it into the Patronus charm (or something else)
In any case, I think that you should specify that we approach Sirius with the Patronus charm, since he was with us at the store when we did it so he would know what we are talking about and might even agree to help us right away.
It seems like a bit of a waste of time to research the charm only to end up going to Sirius in the end regardless and having him explain the same to us.
I would also suggest altering your socialization action into something like "Spend time with the Hufflepuff inner circle - Consult Geist on the viability of sharing Baruffio's Brain Elixir with the Apothecary division, work with the Engineering and socialize with your fellow Hufflepuffs"
I think that this is better than your suggestion, and having someone brew brain potion for us each turn would be great.
Plus, we've been recruited to engineering, so I think that investing some effort into it is overdue by now.
Last edited: