We already have From You, 6,000 Years Ago why are you trying to get it again
Harry Potter and the Scabbard of Excalibur [AU]
- Location
- California
I think it is so that Harry can remember the dreams, write notes to himself, and forget them again? Which I'm not sure he'll have the time to do if it's even possible to re-pick. That, or a second visit from the wraith.
- Location
- Louisiana
I feel like people are overly cautious. Shows in a lot of our choices recently, the convocation discussion makes everyone think we're on a one year clock before The Dark Lord Himself descends upon our bedroom. Just doesn't make sense, we stopped a major disaster this year already with the horcrux issue. I have no doubt something will happen, even though I suspect we're at least halfway past "hatching" judging by our explosive power growth. Which has been said to delay our one cycle deadline. The house fealty perk is a bonus of frenzied attainment, it's not our Hail Mary to save us from poor decision making.
Edit: I also don't understand the patronus bonus, nor why we would focus on it now after we got mastery in Dark Arts and have zero Gnosis. I was all for it when we had Gnosis in the bank and no other focuses to jump to, but now? We have a lot of other things to spend our time on, and I don't see how these bonuses help that.
Last edited:
- Location
- California
I believe the patronus focus is to counteract the mental hit brought on by All Things Must Die, channel the hope that someday they will know happiness, and to leverage Magicka Primeval by learning it from Sprout.
- Location
- California
- Location
- California
That's:
Forfeiture: 24+2 = 26
All Things Must Die: 11+7+6+2+2+2+1=30
This Is The End: 9
Black Out The Sky: 19+9+1+1=29
Magicka Primeval: 1+3+4+6+6=19
Hardship: 7+(4)+2=13
From You, 6,000 Years Ago: 1
Harvest: (1)
A Hundred Avenging Wands: (1)
Dream Of The Founders: (1)
Average votes per option:
If counting by highest-level option: (26+30+9+29)/4 = 23.5
If counting by lowest-level option: (26+30+9+19+13+1+1+1+1)/9= 10.55
I assume we count by highest-level option?
Forfeiture: 24+2 = 26
All Things Must Die: 11+7+6+2+2+2+1=30
This Is The End: 9
Black Out The Sky: 19+9+1+1=29
Magicka Primeval: 1+3+4+6+6=19
Hardship: 7+(4)+2=13
From You, 6,000 Years Ago: 1
Harvest: (1)
A Hundred Avenging Wands: (1)
Dream Of The Founders: (1)
Average votes per option:
If counting by highest-level option: (26+30+9+29)/4 = 23.5
If counting by lowest-level option: (26+30+9+19+13+1+1+1+1)/9= 10.55
I assume we count by highest-level option?
Lightwavers
Purple Noodle
- Pronouns
- they/them
And so the poisoned apple wins the vote. Ah well, mental stability was overrated anyway.
Bells of Heaven
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Bells of Heaven
"Would you kiss God if you could?"
"I would be too afraid to dare. What if our God is the one who tosses lightning?"
---
Slowly, Neville finished scribing the last rune, in its proper location in the middle of the defining array, his fir wand effortlessly parting the castle stone with no more effort than a brush passing over a canvas.
It had taken them both the course of multiple, sleepless nights; liters of expended creativity and determination, but finally, the diagram was complete.
As Neville stepped back, no longer obscuring the view, they could behold their sorcerous working.
Five-thousand and six-hundred rune markings split into twenty-four complementary arrays, including markings and sigils poorly defined in the most ancient library tomes, as well as referential and imperative systems that would've ground themselves down into a logical deadlock, but were resolved through ingenious and novel applications of external systems. It was ordinarily unwise to mix and match runic languages, as this could form all sorts of spotty thaumaturgical results in the core of the effect, but they'd manage to resolve the issues by making an array dedicated solely to translating the results of every other array and combining them into a single core effect.
The longer they stared, the more it became plainly apparent the sigils and symbols covering every surface of the room were the working of pure, impossible, incandescent genius. No ordinary wizard could ever fathom its sublime intricacy, let alone achieve anything of the sort, even when given near-limitless funding and a good year to work on the matter. It was a project that inhabited the wildest dreams of studious runologists as nothing more than an ill-defined morass of desperate hopes and unlikely ambitions.
"It's amazing, isn't it?"
"It is," Neville replied with a tone of quiet recognition.
"It's the best thing in the world," Harry continued.
"It's from beyond this world. It's-" Neville stopped; he chuckled, then laughed, while shaking his head. "It's something that surpasses mortal logic, and we built it as a mere... one-time..." His tone pitched, finding difficulty in assembling a proper description.
"Car keys locator."
"Whatever that is," Neville said in vague agreement. "If anyone knew about this, they'd be simultaneously amazed and horrified."
Harry considered Neville's words, and something about them rung eerily true - he could picture the expressions of his Professors, should they have located this room. A deep shock at something this complex existing. An attempt to create a runic array this large carried the implication that its makers believed that it was practical; and with such a monotonous task, that belief would almost certainly not be fueled by arrogance, but experience and knowledge. It'd terrify them, probably not unlike a monkey suddenly comprehending the rules of complex calculus.
Plato's Cavemen, obtaining a first glimpse of the world that exists in truth, Geist drolly commented.
"Let's not tell anyone then," Harry said.
Neville merely nodded, too captivated by the incredible beauty of their project to speak.
Harry raised his wand, and held it timidly away from his body, almost like a sword that'd immediately disintegrate any matter it came into contact with. Its point sparked with a sudden burst of magic, the sheer weight of the runes surrounding them drawing its core into an eager, fiery blaze. As it sparked, the small, popping bolts of translucent turquoise energy it produced almost revealed outlines of shapes, like small and temporary mirrors leading elsewhere. At last, Harry moved the wand in a specified pattern, and the runes around them started to come to life, one by one, while the torches in the room flickered, their fiery power suddenly disrupted.
And that's when everything went wrong.
There was a sound, like a shattered pane of glass spraying its shards over the floor, and suddenly everything around them felt indescribably wrong and sluggish - it was like being suspended in a deep, pressurized vat of viscous gel that distorted light, sound, feeling, taste, smell, and even thought. Harry's eyes turned an inch, and his head bobbed a centimeter, and he found himself deeply sickened, on the verge of puking. Harry accidentally stumbled forward a step, but Neville caught the hood of his robe and forcefully yanked him back, right before his other foot stepped over the boundary of the safe zone.
"What's happening?" Neville's voice sounded distorted, as though a hundred voices were speaking at once, volume lowered, and pitches altered, but the overall contents of the words the same. It was still recognizably Neville's voice, but mostly because Harry already knew it was Neville speaking.
"I have no idea!" Harry called out, yelling in spite of the meter of distance between them. It felt as though they were speaking from across a long corridor. "It should be working correctly... No, it has to be."
"The power source," Neville realized, eyelids widening a fraction. "It's wild magic. It destabilized-"
"No!" Harry shouted, before Neville could raise his wand to clear out the power runes. "It's working correctly. Look at the filter array. And we can't interrupt the process until it's done - that'll destabilize things for sure."
Across the room, on the positional array, the Rings of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin flickered like ghosts out of phase with reality. A sheet of corrosive, viridian green color had fallen over them, like mottled, heavily oxidized bronze.
"I feel sick," Harry complained.
"I'm mostly fine," Neville said, reaching into a pouch. "I have Wiggenweld. Do you want any?"
I don't think it'll help.
"No. I don't think it'll help either," Harry said.
Neville didn't have time to remark upon his odd choice of word in the sentence, because the main array chose that moment to spark with a sudden, unstable flux of power. The feeling already permeating the room intensified and sharpened, like a lens focusing a flashlight's luminescence into a cutting laserbeam. Harry prevented himself, barely, from falling down to his knees, and Neville gagged suddenly at the indescribable stench that filled the room - like a plate of delightfully rotten eggs mixed with particularly odious fecal matter. It was impossible not to feel one's stomach heave.
A pencil-narrow rift appeared, suspended a meter off the ground over the main array: a bright crack in reality, reaching out with argent feelers, like some eldritch creature's tendrils. As it opened wider and wider over the course of several breaths, its interior shone with an impossible, blinding, golden light: a radiance that acted as the brackets in between which existed every abstract form in the world. It spread further and settled in deeper, with more certainty; the effect upon reality intensifying and sharpening to a peak like a violin string pulled taut almost to the point of snapping, with an anvil balancing on top.
Around them, the room quivered and shook like an earthquake in miniature; books opening randomly and unwriting themselves with the sound of scratching quills played in reverse, chairs rising to steal objects from the nearby tables, and tables lowering themselves to become the new chairs; the glass on the windows became opaque, while sections of the masonry became transparent like glass or crystals or empty air and other things still. It was like someone had taken a ladle and began to mix the environment's features, shifting them around and taking features from one position to place elsewhere.
Harry felt a migraine coming on, as though someone placed a House Elf in his skull, and that Elf was playing drums on his hypothalamus. At some point, Geist's voice had become an incoherent, mindless babbling noise that couldn't be deciphered; next to him, Neville was either speaking or screaming or doing something else that involved opening and closing one's mouth, but Harry was unable to tell which one it was. As he looked down at his fingers, he imagined them turning into snakes, and the next second, that change was real; then he imagined them going back, and it was true also.
And then, unceremoniously, the crack in their reality made a comical pooping noise and deposited the Ring of Hufflepuff on the floor with a clink of metal and jewelry, and everything snapped back to normal, the breach in reality fixed in a tenth of a second.
The boys were lying down with death in their eyes, minds rubbed raw by the experience, as though the unmerciful hand of a particularly nasty god took sandpaper and decided to work on their brains a little.
After maybe five, maybe ten minutes - it was hard to tell, as that span was filled only with breathing and recovering for everyone who'd experienced the event - Neville finally spoke, in slow, measured words, with a pause between every syllable. "I... think... we should... never do that... again."
After a good moment to consider they were speaking the English language, and considering that his fingers mercifully weren't flobberworms, Harry agreed, "Yeah."
Around half an hour later, once they'd recovered sufficiently, and began the process of covering up their misdeeds, Geist spoke up.
I'm not sure what happened there, but it probably wasn't wild magic. I think... it might've been due to the Ring itself.
What do you mean?
Ravenclaw apparently stashed hers in a star. Maybe Hufflepuff's was in some alien realm that didn't take too kindly to you forcefully opening its doors?
Maybe. At that point, Harry didn't want to think anymore about rings and secrets.
The rest of the afternoon was spent recovering from the strain the event had caused - neither of the boys, even the unnaturally diligent and hardworking Harry, was in a mood to do any kind of work after their shared, possibly near-death experience. They hung out in the Great Hall with sullen expressions, noticed by the rest of the table who respectfully didn't bother them, correctly intuiting that something terrible happened that neither Neville nor Harry desired to talk about in detail. It was the small mercy that whatever God reigned over the universe decided to spare them in this minor, irrelevant manner.
As they departed back for the Hufflepuff Common Room in the evening, they were unexpectedly accosted by Asmund and Dusty, "Hey there, kids. A private word with you two, for a minute?"
Harry and Neville shared a tired look.
"Sure, whatever," Neville acquiesced.
"Splendid," Asmund said, then erected a sound-deflecting boundary in a corner of the antechamber, walking them down over there. "Alright, listen - you know how Bucket's graduating and sealing his service record?"
"He is?" Harry asked, a little surprised to hear that. His brain was maybe a little fried from what happened earlier in the day, but the rhetorical question snapped him out of the tired stupor just a little.
"Yeah. Anyway, I know you both are pretty good at Astrology, so I was hoping you could help us predict who the next Head Boys and Head Girls are going to be for our House and Ravenclaw. I need to know that for a top-secret project that starts next year."
"That sounds dubious," Neville said judiciously, tugging on Harry's sleeve. "Come on, Harry, let's go."
"Hold on, let's hear them out," Harry said - he wouldn't knowingly participate in any matter that he couldn't morally approve of, but he was fine with pranking older students, especially after discovering how satisfying pranking Snape had been.
"Essentially, there's a project to quite possibly win us the House Cup next year, but we'd need to know who the Heads are for that," Asmund explained vaguely. "It's about a fifty percent shot that we'll be able to win, though."
"Yeah, but... details?" Harry asked. "How are you so certain it'll work?"
"Do you both know Quidditch rules?"
"Yeah," Neville said, looking at Harry, who indicated vague disinterest but simultaneous acknowledgment with a narrow-eyed shrug. "Yeah, we do."
"So, thing about Quidditch is - the game doesn't stop until either of the Seekers finds the Golden Snitch," Asmund explained, "So we Divisionary Leaders came together and came up with a plot most wicked."
"He wants to bribe the enemy team, and our team, to keep scoring goals while the Seekers basically slack off," Dusty interjected; arms folded, expression drawn. It seemed like he wasn't very interested in this idea either, though probably not because of an accident where he'd punched a hole into reality and experienced its sustained might.
"Damn, you ruined my explanation, Dust!"
"Whatever," Dusty said, blowing away a lock of hair. "I can't believe you drew me away from my work, just so we could ask some Firsties for help in divination."
"Right." Asmund returned his attention to Harry and Neville. "Once Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff accumulate a ginormous quantity of points - say, in the territory of five-thousand - such that Gryffindor and Slytherin have absolutely no hope of catching up, we'll only have one serious competitor next year. We also suspect this might force the faculty to change the rules of Quidditch, but that's also why the plan involves making the most of the opportunity. The House Cup could be a tremendous boon."
What's so good about the House Cup? Harry asked.
It's a stupid old, egalitarian Hogwarts tradition that somehow persisted, Geist said with an annoyed sound. The House that won the Cup last year gets some exemptions and privileges. More liberal access to Potions supplies for instance and teachers might ask the students useless questions less often. It's been enforced ever since the Founding of Hogwarts, and it's supposed to push the students towards actively competing in academics by offering tangible rewards for success. In my times, there used to be better food at meals for the winning House, before some snot-nosed Raven complained to Dippet and they had it changed to better reflect how the Houses are supposed to be equal.
"I guess we'll think about it. Bye," Harry said, walking past them; Neville followed shortly after. Asmund and Dusty stared at their extraordinary rudeness for a moment, before shrugging the whole thing away
---
What did Neville and Harry plan on doing the next day? Action may be disrupted (10% chance) due to Harry's sudden ability to remember his dreams; I suggest careful judgment here, although more details will be revealed in the next chapter. And naturally, you can replan once you know everything.
[ ] Finding the Bearers - Make some Astrological horoscopes with hopes of finding and matching the right people to the right rings. If any of your friends happen to be among the Chosen, gift them the rings and explain the situation.
[ ] Protecting the Headmaster - Make some Astrological projections to help with the undefined issue that's going to be plaguing Headmaster Dumbledore soon. Inform Neville of the situation and get him to aid you, too.
[ ] Dancing on the Graves - Just... fucking rest. What a terrible week.
[ ] Help the Plotters - Let's get that House Cup, baby.
[ ] Write-in
"Would you kiss God if you could?"
"I would be too afraid to dare. What if our God is the one who tosses lightning?"
---
Slowly, Neville finished scribing the last rune, in its proper location in the middle of the defining array, his fir wand effortlessly parting the castle stone with no more effort than a brush passing over a canvas.
It had taken them both the course of multiple, sleepless nights; liters of expended creativity and determination, but finally, the diagram was complete.
As Neville stepped back, no longer obscuring the view, they could behold their sorcerous working.
Five-thousand and six-hundred rune markings split into twenty-four complementary arrays, including markings and sigils poorly defined in the most ancient library tomes, as well as referential and imperative systems that would've ground themselves down into a logical deadlock, but were resolved through ingenious and novel applications of external systems. It was ordinarily unwise to mix and match runic languages, as this could form all sorts of spotty thaumaturgical results in the core of the effect, but they'd manage to resolve the issues by making an array dedicated solely to translating the results of every other array and combining them into a single core effect.
The longer they stared, the more it became plainly apparent the sigils and symbols covering every surface of the room were the working of pure, impossible, incandescent genius. No ordinary wizard could ever fathom its sublime intricacy, let alone achieve anything of the sort, even when given near-limitless funding and a good year to work on the matter. It was a project that inhabited the wildest dreams of studious runologists as nothing more than an ill-defined morass of desperate hopes and unlikely ambitions.
"It's amazing, isn't it?"
"It is," Neville replied with a tone of quiet recognition.
"It's the best thing in the world," Harry continued.
"It's from beyond this world. It's-" Neville stopped; he chuckled, then laughed, while shaking his head. "It's something that surpasses mortal logic, and we built it as a mere... one-time..." His tone pitched, finding difficulty in assembling a proper description.
"Car keys locator."
"Whatever that is," Neville said in vague agreement. "If anyone knew about this, they'd be simultaneously amazed and horrified."
Harry considered Neville's words, and something about them rung eerily true - he could picture the expressions of his Professors, should they have located this room. A deep shock at something this complex existing. An attempt to create a runic array this large carried the implication that its makers believed that it was practical; and with such a monotonous task, that belief would almost certainly not be fueled by arrogance, but experience and knowledge. It'd terrify them, probably not unlike a monkey suddenly comprehending the rules of complex calculus.
Plato's Cavemen, obtaining a first glimpse of the world that exists in truth, Geist drolly commented.
"Let's not tell anyone then," Harry said.
Neville merely nodded, too captivated by the incredible beauty of their project to speak.
Harry raised his wand, and held it timidly away from his body, almost like a sword that'd immediately disintegrate any matter it came into contact with. Its point sparked with a sudden burst of magic, the sheer weight of the runes surrounding them drawing its core into an eager, fiery blaze. As it sparked, the small, popping bolts of translucent turquoise energy it produced almost revealed outlines of shapes, like small and temporary mirrors leading elsewhere. At last, Harry moved the wand in a specified pattern, and the runes around them started to come to life, one by one, while the torches in the room flickered, their fiery power suddenly disrupted.
And that's when everything went wrong.
There was a sound, like a shattered pane of glass spraying its shards over the floor, and suddenly everything around them felt indescribably wrong and sluggish - it was like being suspended in a deep, pressurized vat of viscous gel that distorted light, sound, feeling, taste, smell, and even thought. Harry's eyes turned an inch, and his head bobbed a centimeter, and he found himself deeply sickened, on the verge of puking. Harry accidentally stumbled forward a step, but Neville caught the hood of his robe and forcefully yanked him back, right before his other foot stepped over the boundary of the safe zone.
"What's happening?" Neville's voice sounded distorted, as though a hundred voices were speaking at once, volume lowered, and pitches altered, but the overall contents of the words the same. It was still recognizably Neville's voice, but mostly because Harry already knew it was Neville speaking.
"I have no idea!" Harry called out, yelling in spite of the meter of distance between them. It felt as though they were speaking from across a long corridor. "It should be working correctly... No, it has to be."
"The power source," Neville realized, eyelids widening a fraction. "It's wild magic. It destabilized-"
"No!" Harry shouted, before Neville could raise his wand to clear out the power runes. "It's working correctly. Look at the filter array. And we can't interrupt the process until it's done - that'll destabilize things for sure."
Across the room, on the positional array, the Rings of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin flickered like ghosts out of phase with reality. A sheet of corrosive, viridian green color had fallen over them, like mottled, heavily oxidized bronze.
"I feel sick," Harry complained.
"I'm mostly fine," Neville said, reaching into a pouch. "I have Wiggenweld. Do you want any?"
I don't think it'll help.
"No. I don't think it'll help either," Harry said.
Neville didn't have time to remark upon his odd choice of word in the sentence, because the main array chose that moment to spark with a sudden, unstable flux of power. The feeling already permeating the room intensified and sharpened, like a lens focusing a flashlight's luminescence into a cutting laserbeam. Harry prevented himself, barely, from falling down to his knees, and Neville gagged suddenly at the indescribable stench that filled the room - like a plate of delightfully rotten eggs mixed with particularly odious fecal matter. It was impossible not to feel one's stomach heave.
A pencil-narrow rift appeared, suspended a meter off the ground over the main array: a bright crack in reality, reaching out with argent feelers, like some eldritch creature's tendrils. As it opened wider and wider over the course of several breaths, its interior shone with an impossible, blinding, golden light: a radiance that acted as the brackets in between which existed every abstract form in the world. It spread further and settled in deeper, with more certainty; the effect upon reality intensifying and sharpening to a peak like a violin string pulled taut almost to the point of snapping, with an anvil balancing on top.
Around them, the room quivered and shook like an earthquake in miniature; books opening randomly and unwriting themselves with the sound of scratching quills played in reverse, chairs rising to steal objects from the nearby tables, and tables lowering themselves to become the new chairs; the glass on the windows became opaque, while sections of the masonry became transparent like glass or crystals or empty air and other things still. It was like someone had taken a ladle and began to mix the environment's features, shifting them around and taking features from one position to place elsewhere.
Harry felt a migraine coming on, as though someone placed a House Elf in his skull, and that Elf was playing drums on his hypothalamus. At some point, Geist's voice had become an incoherent, mindless babbling noise that couldn't be deciphered; next to him, Neville was either speaking or screaming or doing something else that involved opening and closing one's mouth, but Harry was unable to tell which one it was. As he looked down at his fingers, he imagined them turning into snakes, and the next second, that change was real; then he imagined them going back, and it was true also.
And then, unceremoniously, the crack in their reality made a comical pooping noise and deposited the Ring of Hufflepuff on the floor with a clink of metal and jewelry, and everything snapped back to normal, the breach in reality fixed in a tenth of a second.
The boys were lying down with death in their eyes, minds rubbed raw by the experience, as though the unmerciful hand of a particularly nasty god took sandpaper and decided to work on their brains a little.
After maybe five, maybe ten minutes - it was hard to tell, as that span was filled only with breathing and recovering for everyone who'd experienced the event - Neville finally spoke, in slow, measured words, with a pause between every syllable. "I... think... we should... never do that... again."
After a good moment to consider they were speaking the English language, and considering that his fingers mercifully weren't flobberworms, Harry agreed, "Yeah."
Around half an hour later, once they'd recovered sufficiently, and began the process of covering up their misdeeds, Geist spoke up.
I'm not sure what happened there, but it probably wasn't wild magic. I think... it might've been due to the Ring itself.
What do you mean?
Ravenclaw apparently stashed hers in a star. Maybe Hufflepuff's was in some alien realm that didn't take too kindly to you forcefully opening its doors?
Maybe. At that point, Harry didn't want to think anymore about rings and secrets.
The rest of the afternoon was spent recovering from the strain the event had caused - neither of the boys, even the unnaturally diligent and hardworking Harry, was in a mood to do any kind of work after their shared, possibly near-death experience. They hung out in the Great Hall with sullen expressions, noticed by the rest of the table who respectfully didn't bother them, correctly intuiting that something terrible happened that neither Neville nor Harry desired to talk about in detail. It was the small mercy that whatever God reigned over the universe decided to spare them in this minor, irrelevant manner.
As they departed back for the Hufflepuff Common Room in the evening, they were unexpectedly accosted by Asmund and Dusty, "Hey there, kids. A private word with you two, for a minute?"
Harry and Neville shared a tired look.
"Sure, whatever," Neville acquiesced.
"Splendid," Asmund said, then erected a sound-deflecting boundary in a corner of the antechamber, walking them down over there. "Alright, listen - you know how Bucket's graduating and sealing his service record?"
"He is?" Harry asked, a little surprised to hear that. His brain was maybe a little fried from what happened earlier in the day, but the rhetorical question snapped him out of the tired stupor just a little.
"Yeah. Anyway, I know you both are pretty good at Astrology, so I was hoping you could help us predict who the next Head Boys and Head Girls are going to be for our House and Ravenclaw. I need to know that for a top-secret project that starts next year."
"That sounds dubious," Neville said judiciously, tugging on Harry's sleeve. "Come on, Harry, let's go."
"Hold on, let's hear them out," Harry said - he wouldn't knowingly participate in any matter that he couldn't morally approve of, but he was fine with pranking older students, especially after discovering how satisfying pranking Snape had been.
"Essentially, there's a project to quite possibly win us the House Cup next year, but we'd need to know who the Heads are for that," Asmund explained vaguely. "It's about a fifty percent shot that we'll be able to win, though."
"Yeah, but... details?" Harry asked. "How are you so certain it'll work?"
"Do you both know Quidditch rules?"
"Yeah," Neville said, looking at Harry, who indicated vague disinterest but simultaneous acknowledgment with a narrow-eyed shrug. "Yeah, we do."
"So, thing about Quidditch is - the game doesn't stop until either of the Seekers finds the Golden Snitch," Asmund explained, "So we Divisionary Leaders came together and came up with a plot most wicked."
"He wants to bribe the enemy team, and our team, to keep scoring goals while the Seekers basically slack off," Dusty interjected; arms folded, expression drawn. It seemed like he wasn't very interested in this idea either, though probably not because of an accident where he'd punched a hole into reality and experienced its sustained might.
"Damn, you ruined my explanation, Dust!"
"Whatever," Dusty said, blowing away a lock of hair. "I can't believe you drew me away from my work, just so we could ask some Firsties for help in divination."
"Right." Asmund returned his attention to Harry and Neville. "Once Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff accumulate a ginormous quantity of points - say, in the territory of five-thousand - such that Gryffindor and Slytherin have absolutely no hope of catching up, we'll only have one serious competitor next year. We also suspect this might force the faculty to change the rules of Quidditch, but that's also why the plan involves making the most of the opportunity. The House Cup could be a tremendous boon."
What's so good about the House Cup? Harry asked.
It's a stupid old, egalitarian Hogwarts tradition that somehow persisted, Geist said with an annoyed sound. The House that won the Cup last year gets some exemptions and privileges. More liberal access to Potions supplies for instance and teachers might ask the students useless questions less often. It's been enforced ever since the Founding of Hogwarts, and it's supposed to push the students towards actively competing in academics by offering tangible rewards for success. In my times, there used to be better food at meals for the winning House, before some snot-nosed Raven complained to Dippet and they had it changed to better reflect how the Houses are supposed to be equal.
"I guess we'll think about it. Bye," Harry said, walking past them; Neville followed shortly after. Asmund and Dusty stared at their extraordinary rudeness for a moment, before shrugging the whole thing away
---
What did Neville and Harry plan on doing the next day? Action may be disrupted (10% chance) due to Harry's sudden ability to remember his dreams; I suggest careful judgment here, although more details will be revealed in the next chapter. And naturally, you can replan once you know everything.
[ ] Finding the Bearers - Make some Astrological horoscopes with hopes of finding and matching the right people to the right rings. If any of your friends happen to be among the Chosen, gift them the rings and explain the situation.
[ ] Protecting the Headmaster - Make some Astrological projections to help with the undefined issue that's going to be plaguing Headmaster Dumbledore soon. Inform Neville of the situation and get him to aid you, too.
[ ] Dancing on the Graves - Just... fucking rest. What a terrible week.
[ ] Help the Plotters - Let's get that House Cup, baby.
[ ] Write-in
[X] Dancing on the Graves
We need the rest from two hits of San damage we can trust Neville with finding the Bearers
We need the rest from two hits of San damage we can trust Neville with finding the Bearers
OctarineShrike
Avatar of Mandos
[X] Help the Plotters - Let's get that House Cup, baby.
[X] Finding the Bearers - Make some Astrological horoscopes with hopes of finding and matching the right people to the right rings. If any of your friends happen to be among the Chosen, gift them the rings and explain the situation.
We may as well contribute for the supplies and books we bummed off them. Or we could pay attention to something more important. Dunno
[X] Finding the Bearers - Make some Astrological horoscopes with hopes of finding and matching the right people to the right rings. If any of your friends happen to be among the Chosen, gift them the rings and explain the situation.
We may as well contribute for the supplies and books we bummed off them. Or we could pay attention to something more important. Dunno
- Location
- Ostren
[X] Dancing on the Graves - Just... fucking rest. What a terrible week.
So. It looks like the Hufflepuff ring was either in the Realm of Forms, which we know exists, or some astral realm where thought becomes reality, I think...? And it kind of leaked.
- Location
- USA
[X] Finding the Bearers - Make some Astrological horoscopes with hopes of finding and matching the right people to the right rings. If any of your friends happen to be among the Chosen, gift them the rings and explain the situation.
We need to this folks. We are running out of time. Like seriously.
We need to this folks. We are running out of time. Like seriously.
- Location
- Somewhere with a Thousand Watchful Eyes
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] Dancing on the Graves
[X] Finding the Bearers - Make some Astrological horoscopes with hopes of finding and matching the right people to the right rings. If any of your friends happen to be among the Chosen, gift them the rings and explain the situation.
Let's put our workaholic feat to the test. Stargazing is soothing..
*Never feel especially bothered by having to work more; no rolls for burn-out, and working harder does not cost additional Will. You are simply assumed to always be doing your best to advance.
We don't have burnout.. but Neville does. So he might not be able to give it his best for the search without us.
Edit: Do Harry even know there's an enemy in character though?
"DECIPHER MY RUNES, FOR THEY ARE YOUR ENTIRE WORLD BETWEEN NOW AND FOREVER."
"YOU WILL FORGET THIS NIGHT, BUT YOUR SOUL REMEMBERS, AND PERSISTS IN ERROR. SEEK ME AGAIN. I HAVE MORE ANSWERS. BUT FOR TONIGHT, LIVE. I AM STANDING BEHIND YOU NOW."
Our task specifically is to understand the Runes (which we suspect are the stars) and find the Not-Dementor again first.
Edit:
[X] Astrological pursue your own fate, and what would be required of you to hatch
-[X] Suggest Hecate and Hermione as potential candidates for the other Champions
Let's put our workaholic feat to the test. Stargazing is soothing..
*Never feel especially bothered by having to work more; no rolls for burn-out, and working harder does not cost additional Will. You are simply assumed to always be doing your best to advance.
We don't have burnout.. but Neville does. So he might not be able to give it his best for the search without us.
Edit: Do Harry even know there's an enemy in character though?
"DECIPHER MY RUNES, FOR THEY ARE YOUR ENTIRE WORLD BETWEEN NOW AND FOREVER."
"YOU WILL FORGET THIS NIGHT, BUT YOUR SOUL REMEMBERS, AND PERSISTS IN ERROR. SEEK ME AGAIN. I HAVE MORE ANSWERS. BUT FOR TONIGHT, LIVE. I AM STANDING BEHIND YOU NOW."
Our task specifically is to understand the Runes (which we suspect are the stars) and find the Not-Dementor again first.
Edit:
[X] Astrological pursue your own fate, and what would be required of you to hatch
-[X] Suggest Hecate and Hermione as potential candidates for the other Champions
Last edited:
- Location
- California
This omake interprets This Is The End optimistically.
Omake: This World Transcend
We need to break the Statute of Secrecy. We'll have summer vacation in the outside world, and reveal magic's existence to trusted Muggles. It's not fair, otherwise, that wizards hoard all this power to themselves. I know you'd agree with me, Geist. This was your life's work and more. Can you tell me how to keep the Ministry from tracing the breach to me, and do you have any Muggles you can trust and that you believe I can trust too? If we tell the wrong people, it'd spell disaster.
You think people haven't tried? The Aurors practically live to stop incidents like that, and Obliviate anyone who gets involved. The Ministry has very powerful magic at its disposal, not to mention Rowena's astrological effect. Good to see you taking the initiative for once though. Whatever happened overnight did you a world of good.
Well, that makes it simpler. We just have to break Rowena's curse. Hopefully I'll be able to do that by summer; we'd have to make preparations in the Muggle world to reintroduce magic. Have you given that any thought?
I mostly focused on defeating the Ministry; they cause more problems than just keeping magic from the outside world, and it'd be much easier to break the Statute without them in the way.
This will be time-consuming then. In the meantime, there's a few workings I'd like to put in place regarding Dementors and Unforgivable Curses...
A knock on the door. Neville Longbottom's voice.
"Are you up, Harry? Herbology is in ten minutes. If you're not up for it, I can take notes and share them with you afterwards."
Neville should be able to help with those. I'll bring them up to him on the way to class.
"Coming."
Harry left his dorm-room, waving to Neville, who seemed surprised.
"Did the runes do something to your-oh. Well, that's one effect I didn't expect. Congratulations, I guess?"
"On what?"
"You... seem like a better person than yesterday. No, wait. More like the person you were all along is shining through more brightly. Also your hair is different."
"Thanks. I've got a couple ideas to share with you after class, by the way."
-----------
"What, now of all times?"
"It wouldn't be fair if we delayed pointlessly. If you won't be able to help, or have higher priorities, I'll do it on my own. Your dream asked you to find the Chosen, so you can work on that instead. It's possible that finding them is equally or more important; we don't know enough to say."
"Then I think I'll keep looking. Best of luck!"
--------------
May 12, 1992. An adjoining wing of Azkaban.
"How many Muggles did you tell? What were there names and addresses? Did you give any of them physical evidence? Where is it?"
(She remains silent, and maintains her Occlumency.)
"You could just stop resisting and think about them. Come on. Think. Think about the Muggles you revealed the existence of magic to! Well, since you won't, it's a good thing I have exemptions for this. Last chance before it gets messy. Still nothing? Cruci-AAAAAAAgh..."
(The Auror... suddenly died? She expects his death to get pinned on her, and to be locked up with the Dementors soon. She hopes it was worth it, and that her friends and allies will get her out someday...)
-----------------
They called it the Judgement Day, or later on the First Judgement Day. From that day forth, anyone who attempted to cast the Cruciatus or Imperius curses would immediately fall to the ground dead, their wand broken, their body drained of... something. The Killing Curse was affected as well, but not to the same degree: wands would break, and casters would collapse, but merely unconscious. The work of an expert Astrologer was suspected.
On the Second Judgement Day, Dementors suddenly began to flee the light of the Sun and Moon. The part of Azkaban used for a prison now only contained prisoners and Aurors, and no one wanted to go to the deeper levels.
The Ministry of Magic expressed approval of the Judgement Days, and requested their architect come forth, but none did. After what was retroactively deemed the Third Judgement Day, however, the Ministry reported a marked decrease in incarcerations. They didn't notice, or rather didn't bother to find out, that the same applied in the Muggle world. Even more subtle were other effects. Rodents escaped traps, or simply did not get caught in them. Factory farms, both magical and mundane, had staggeringly high rates of escape. The Ministry made the connection when one of the central nervous systems they had extracted managed to somehow regain their body. And the effect only increased with time...
...and on the Final Judgement Day, the world was awash in ghosts. Of humans, goblins, centaurs, dragons, rats, snakes, and even ants and bees; all seemed to have risen from the dead in massive numbers. The source? Portals in locations of astrological significance, leading beyond the Veil. Utterly unprecedented; someone would have to have ventured beyond alive multiple times and lived in order to accomplish this. Such was the consensus of much of the Wizarding World, and so the Judgement Days were commonly attributed to powerful, undiscovered ghosts. The ghosts of the Founders, perhaps, or of Merlin himself.
-------------------
"Thank you, Summoner. I still wish to hear the Heartbeat, but to assist you with this is worth it many times over."
---------------------
December 21, 2009. [Untranslatable.]
"We are the people of Earth. There are approximately fifteen orders of magnitude of us. All have suffered unfairly. You could have prevented this. Easily. Thus, in the name of Fairness, we ask you: WHY?"
Omake: This World Transcend
We need to break the Statute of Secrecy. We'll have summer vacation in the outside world, and reveal magic's existence to trusted Muggles. It's not fair, otherwise, that wizards hoard all this power to themselves. I know you'd agree with me, Geist. This was your life's work and more. Can you tell me how to keep the Ministry from tracing the breach to me, and do you have any Muggles you can trust and that you believe I can trust too? If we tell the wrong people, it'd spell disaster.
You think people haven't tried? The Aurors practically live to stop incidents like that, and Obliviate anyone who gets involved. The Ministry has very powerful magic at its disposal, not to mention Rowena's astrological effect. Good to see you taking the initiative for once though. Whatever happened overnight did you a world of good.
Well, that makes it simpler. We just have to break Rowena's curse. Hopefully I'll be able to do that by summer; we'd have to make preparations in the Muggle world to reintroduce magic. Have you given that any thought?
I mostly focused on defeating the Ministry; they cause more problems than just keeping magic from the outside world, and it'd be much easier to break the Statute without them in the way.
This will be time-consuming then. In the meantime, there's a few workings I'd like to put in place regarding Dementors and Unforgivable Curses...
A knock on the door. Neville Longbottom's voice.
"Are you up, Harry? Herbology is in ten minutes. If you're not up for it, I can take notes and share them with you afterwards."
Neville should be able to help with those. I'll bring them up to him on the way to class.
"Coming."
Harry left his dorm-room, waving to Neville, who seemed surprised.
"Did the runes do something to your-oh. Well, that's one effect I didn't expect. Congratulations, I guess?"
"On what?"
"You... seem like a better person than yesterday. No, wait. More like the person you were all along is shining through more brightly. Also your hair is different."
"Thanks. I've got a couple ideas to share with you after class, by the way."
-----------
"What, now of all times?"
"It wouldn't be fair if we delayed pointlessly. If you won't be able to help, or have higher priorities, I'll do it on my own. Your dream asked you to find the Chosen, so you can work on that instead. It's possible that finding them is equally or more important; we don't know enough to say."
"Then I think I'll keep looking. Best of luck!"
--------------
May 12, 1992. An adjoining wing of Azkaban.
"How many Muggles did you tell? What were there names and addresses? Did you give any of them physical evidence? Where is it?"
(She remains silent, and maintains her Occlumency.)
"You could just stop resisting and think about them. Come on. Think. Think about the Muggles you revealed the existence of magic to! Well, since you won't, it's a good thing I have exemptions for this. Last chance before it gets messy. Still nothing? Cruci-AAAAAAAgh..."
(The Auror... suddenly died? She expects his death to get pinned on her, and to be locked up with the Dementors soon. She hopes it was worth it, and that her friends and allies will get her out someday...)
-----------------
They called it the Judgement Day, or later on the First Judgement Day. From that day forth, anyone who attempted to cast the Cruciatus or Imperius curses would immediately fall to the ground dead, their wand broken, their body drained of... something. The Killing Curse was affected as well, but not to the same degree: wands would break, and casters would collapse, but merely unconscious. The work of an expert Astrologer was suspected.
On the Second Judgement Day, Dementors suddenly began to flee the light of the Sun and Moon. The part of Azkaban used for a prison now only contained prisoners and Aurors, and no one wanted to go to the deeper levels.
The Ministry of Magic expressed approval of the Judgement Days, and requested their architect come forth, but none did. After what was retroactively deemed the Third Judgement Day, however, the Ministry reported a marked decrease in incarcerations. They didn't notice, or rather didn't bother to find out, that the same applied in the Muggle world. Even more subtle were other effects. Rodents escaped traps, or simply did not get caught in them. Factory farms, both magical and mundane, had staggeringly high rates of escape. The Ministry made the connection when one of the central nervous systems they had extracted managed to somehow regain their body. And the effect only increased with time...
...and on the Final Judgement Day, the world was awash in ghosts. Of humans, goblins, centaurs, dragons, rats, snakes, and even ants and bees; all seemed to have risen from the dead in massive numbers. The source? Portals in locations of astrological significance, leading beyond the Veil. Utterly unprecedented; someone would have to have ventured beyond alive multiple times and lived in order to accomplish this. Such was the consensus of much of the Wizarding World, and so the Judgement Days were commonly attributed to powerful, undiscovered ghosts. The ghosts of the Founders, perhaps, or of Merlin himself.
-------------------
"Thank you, Summoner. I still wish to hear the Heartbeat, but to assist you with this is worth it many times over."
---------------------
December 21, 2009. [Untranslatable.]
"We are the people of Earth. There are approximately fifteen orders of magnitude of us. All have suffered unfairly. You could have prevented this. Easily. Thus, in the name of Fairness, we ask you: WHY?"
- Location
- California
[X] Astrological pursue your own fate, and what would be required of you to hatch
It'd probably be the other Chosen anyway though...
It'd probably be the other Chosen anyway though...
We should at least tell Neville about Hecate though, he has never met her. And our suspicions regarding Hermione.
Add the
-[] Suggest Hecate and Hermione as potential candidates for the other Champions
I suspect find the bearers quickly would give us their pieces of the lore from their visions. Like we found out about the rings from Neville - they might have their own things going as well?
Add the
-[] Suggest Hecate and Hermione as potential candidates for the other Champions
I suspect find the bearers quickly would give us their pieces of the lore from their visions. Like we found out about the rings from Neville - they might have their own things going as well?
Last edited:
- Location
- California
Note, by the way, that this is the agenda for a single day, and not for a week or month.