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Harry Potter and the Scabbard of Excalibur [AU]

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[X] Reveal Nothing

Of course we have to be careful! To tell everyone and their granny about ours secrets is dangerous and foolish. We don't even know if they have mental defense for God's sake! Our secrets is our own, never reveal them. Never
 
[X] Reveal Everything except Geist

But seriously, don't tell other people your secrets unless they can keep them or you don't care about them being spread.

Them knowing about Geist could be incredibly dangerous. Even if they want to keep the secret, they're not Occlumens.
 
Imagine trying to explain you harbor a shard of the mind of the Dark lord while already emotionally distraught from torture loops. We should of course reveal him in due course.. but why now in the middle of a crisis where Harry's distinctively not himself? Poor social rolls are a thing in this quest - remember Susan and the snake, blurting out that Hermione has social anxiety?

I worry about how Ron and Hermione in particular will grapple with it. Knee jerk alarm over it could worsen things for Harry. More over the Geist reveal could potentially overshadow the ongoing Atlantian and Death crisis. Discuss your instinct for Dark Arts by all means, insights that lead you to open the Chamber of Secrets, Healing Snape and Summoning Ornias.. But we can keep Geist's involvement vague, frame it like an instinctive knowledge being a Chosen one.
 
Omake: Millennium of the Ancient Wizards

"So, Harry Potter, are you ready to admit defeat? Are you going to acknowledge the existence of a goddess?"

"Screw- you."

"Then let's have your Blue Truth: How, if not by the actions of a goddess, did Atlantis fall?"

"An Atlantean wizard made a mistake in a ritual similar to the Killing Curse; that was the cause of the green energy."

"Hah! Wrong! The culprit is not Atlantean!"

"Then... one of the visitors from the Other Great Civilizations did it."

"Wrong again! The culprit did not come from .the Other Great Civilizations. She's a goddess, after all!"

"Then... the effect was done remotely! A ritual outside Atlantis could have brought doom to it, done by some unknown human X."

"Oh, no you don't. The culprit was present during the convocation. They were there in person, and witnessed the green energy."

"Well, I won't get someone specific, but a mysterious human X from a mysterious location Y could have doomed Atlantis. I refuse to explain further."

"You think the Atlanteans would just let someone do that? Visitors from outside Atlantis cannot use magic within Atlantis."

"Normally they wouldn't, but... oh no. That's what you were trying to tell me? That all this--?"

"Yes, you utter incompetent. Took you long enough."
 
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Mesial of Summer
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    • Mesial of Summer

    As Harry consumed the egg-and-miso breakfast soup that Kreacher made in advance - with an open runebook on the side of his bowl, allowing him to revise and study - his spoon tapped against the porcelain uncertainly. He was stuck deliberating on the nature of the dreams, and so, it seemed, was Geist; the ghost spoke up with an idea.

    I've figured out a possible reason why the Atlantis you perceive is divergent from the one I know about.

    He stopped eating and put down his spoon. Harry elegantly steepled both hands, looking firmly ahead with tired yet firm eyes; unwavering in the face of what he was confident would be yet another educational conversation. "Enlighten me."

    I don't suppose you've heard of STET?

    He shrugged. "Not that I recall."

    Allow me to explain. Although the Ministry of Magic was officially founded in 1707, it existed already in an unofficial capacity as much half a century earlier. Around the 1650s, not long after the English Civil War ended with the Battle of Worcester, the tensions between the Muggles and predominantly pro-royal Wizards started to rise. The de facto ruling body of the British Wizarding World - the Wizengamot - was already contemplating the founding of the Ministry of Magic, as well as the Statute of Secrecy, seeing that Muggle society and civilization were not only becoming increasingly more independent and powerful, but even threatening to the continued existence of Wizardkind.

    "What's that got to do with anything?" Harry returned to playing with the spoon midway through the explanation, scooping up baby spinach leaves and gathering them into a pile, as though raking the surface of the soup.

    I'm getting to that - patience, child, Geist chastised. Anyway, in September 1666, shortly following the Great Fire of London - caused by runaway Wizards, by the way; Thomas Farriner was innocent - it was decided that British Wizards needed to acquire more independence from the crown and formal British government. The Wizengamot made some votes and ended up spawning a couple of mismatched organizations that'd end up becoming some of the first Departments of the Ministry several decades later. Among these was the precursor to the Department of Mysteries, the so-called, 'Directorate of Answers to Abstract Matters.'

    Its creation was something of an internal publicity stunt by Wizengamot officials, intent on mustering enough votes from conservatives to make a formal government. They needed to show the benefits of such a government, and this was one of them: the Directorate's task was to collaborate using the greatest resources available to wizardkind, to find the answers to the questions that have plagued us for millennia. Its charter contained a list of sixteen initial mysteries it was tasked with researching. The list included things such as, 'what is the afterlife like if it exists,' 'were humans evolved naturally or made through intelligent design,' and 'is it possible to bring dead people back to life?'

    "And?"

    Patience, chastised Geist. Among the mysteries included was an innocuous yet seemingly hard-shelled enigma: how does time work? How can we use divination to perceive the future and the past? Why does it keep moving forward?

    A trepid pause - one annoyingly long enough that it soon became evident that Geist was expecting Harry to engage.

    "Alright, I'll bite - why does it move forward?"

    That's the neat part: it doesn't.

    Harry blinked. "'Scuze me?"

    After some experiments over the course of a decade, during which they figured out the divination spells used to peer into the future are the same ones used to peer into the past, in 1680, the Unspeakables published their official findings, and posited STET - Singularity Timeline Expansion Theory.

    "And what's it say?"

    I'm glad you asked, Harry, Geist said. Imagine, if you would - as a simple hypothetical - that on the day you were delivered to the Dursleys, the universe began.

    His languid, sleep-deprived brain raced desperately to catch up with the hidden meaning of that sentence. After staring into his baggy-eyed reflection in the soup's surface, Harry started to believe there maybe wasn't one. "Alright?"

    As you know, time moves forwards - however, according to STET, it also moves backward. See, according to STET, as the future is shaped, the past is shaped in equal measure - the content of the former demands some context from the latter, and so the latter is reshaped to suit the former. In other words, the past is generated as an explanation for the future, in a way that's made logical sense from the beginning of the singularity that pushed time to expand in both directions. A bunch of experiments and independent studies done over the early 1700s made contributions to the theory. Although it was never conclusively proven or disproven, evidence weighs heavily in its favor.

    Harry breathed in and out. "What's that got to do with Atlantis?"

    I believe what your brain perceives in your dreams is what STET calls a section-degenerate retrotime potentiality. It creates an alternate past, which is equally likely to the past which actually happened. The difference is negligible from the perspective of a modern observer - Atlantis exists and is then sunk and destroyed - much as your perspective of a potential future might be. The past is no more set in stone than the future until irrefutable evidence arises of a certainty that 'must happen' or 'must have happened.'

    "I don't think that's what's happening," Harry says. "I think someone or something cursed me to have shitty dreams."

    As you wish.

    Harry didn't finish the soup, no longer in the mood. He walked into the small ground floor lavatory and stared at his own, tired reflection in the enchanted mirror. "You could use a haircut, friend," the reflection stated with a contemplative frown, as Harry promptly ignored it. He cast several, intermediate hygiene Charms on himself, mostly to make the bags under his eyes disappear. There was a hint of lassitude under his eyes that hinted at them, but nothing to obviously sell him out as completely knackered. Another Charm added a fresh, rosy blush to his cheeks, as though imbuing him with fake life. It made him look somewhat jovial, even though he felt nothing like it.

    The point of this? Geist asked.

    I made a household horoscope earlier last night, as you've observed. It seems we're supposed to get an unexpected, formal visitor, and before midday. I'd like to put on appearances in front of them.

    And you're not concerned it might be an enemy?

    "No," he answered with a tired sigh. "I spied no indications of outright hostility in the horoscope. And I'll have Kreacher answer the door, obviously. He'll protect me in case anything goes wrong."

    "Are you often in the habit of talking to yourself?" Harry in the mirror asked.

    "Shush."

    Also, Harry continued in his thoughts, I planted landmines everywhere, so we're good.

    ...Landmines?

    You were asleep or not paying attention,     Harry guessed. Anyway, yes, landmines. The very explosive, dangerous, shrapnel-filled, tinnitus-inducing kind that wizards aren't accustomed to. I used some novice Alchemy to make the perfect material for them - a tubular hexagon iron container, perfect for scribing runes, with an internalized homeostatic mixture of various combustive and flammable materials. I've made them invisible, obviously. I'm slightly concerned that a skilled intruder might activate them remotely - all of the mines activating simultaneously might collapse the house.

    What the actual fuck.

    Calm down, Geist, I'm sure that won't happen.

    When did you even learn Alchemy?

    I, uhm, haven't really learned Alchemy. I only managed to, like, acquire some tricks? I found some books that looked interesting. And besides, alchemical runes unsurprisingly have a lot in common with basic Alchemy.

    The doorbell of Grimmauld Place rang, twice in a short sequence, and then an ominous silence reigned the house. Nonetheless, Harry waited for a second, wand gently tapping against the sink. He was prepared to sprint out of the bathroom or cast a protective Charm over the door as needed. He was a single, errant flash of desire away from triggering an entire boatload of explosives that he'd stashed underneath the entry doorway: an amount sufficient it'd probably rain dust over the street and disrupt traffic.

    No one seemed to be attempting to break in, though. There was no banging on the door, no sudden breach as someone pierced the defensive Charms and forcefully Apparated inside. There was no sound of the Door-Unlocking Charm, or anything more overt. A calm string of peace appeared in Harry's mind, offering faint hope.

    "Kreacher! Do you mind getting the door!?"

    "I shall do so, sir!"

    A pop of Apparition resounded from the entryway as Kreacher responded to the request, and Harry craned an ear, listening as the House Elf opened the door and welcomed the visitor to the estate. A conversation happened, sounding affably calm and charmingly polite, between the House Elf and the individual in question.

    "Master Harry!" Kreacher's voice sounded vaguely pleased. A potential Confundus Charm? An Imperius Curse? There wouldn't be enough time to administer any good love potion, especially to an expectant House Elf. "A guest for you!"

    A guest? Harry's thoughts braked against a carpet, skidding and then dully hitting a brick wall.

    What's he look like, Harry thought to ask but decided that maybe going to that point was a little too paranoid.

    Instead, he simply emerged from the bathroom - wand in a state of readiness - only to find the 'guest' flinging an immediate Stunning Charm. It seemed to be aimed at a spot on the floor close to his feet, not poised to strike his center of mass as such a Charm should, but on raw instinct, Harry expertly parried, deflecting the Charm back at its caster with doubled speed, to the man's surprise; Harry added several, easy and fast hexes in order to distract his attacker for the crucial time window of a second.

    He focused on the mines underneath the floor, and they began to shine with furious, scarlet panes of light through the cracks in the boards, drawing the fight to an abrupt stop. Harry declared, "I have you caught. There are explosives stashed away under the floor; enough of them to blow you back to Scotland. A single thought and I'll end you - drop your wand and raise your hands, keeping them where I can see and not moving without permission."

    The man seemed gobsmacked. A single, prosthetic, magical eye floated around to stare down at his feet. The cerulean iris drank in the sight of the energy slumbering beneath his feet. A look of abject disbelief dawned over his face, as though unwilling to believe this situation.

    I can't believe this, Geist stated.

    "...So you do." An amused smile appeared on his scarred face, as the man dropped his wand, keeping his arms raised.

    You out-insanitified Mad-Eye Moody. I am now severely concerned about these dreams you've been experiencing, as well as your mental health. I insist that we visit a good therapist at the earliest available point of opportunity.

    "I- uh, I- uh, I- uh..." The poor House Elf was stuck in a deadlock of repeating the same phrase over and over with a carved smile. He seemed uncertain to which party he should extend the sincerest apologies here.

    "Who are you?"

    "Alastor Moody, I'm with the Auror's Office."

    "And what are you doing here?"

    The Auror seemed amused that a child was interrogating him. "Young man, I hope you realize that attacking an Auror in any context-"

    "In rightful self-defense," Harry interrupted. Mr. Moody didn't speak for a good moment. "Continue?"

    Moody looked at him, unperturbed, and the smile remained affixed to his face. "Of course. Admittedly, I'd intended to test your reflexes and preparedness but did not expect you to pass with such flying colors. Do you get an Outstanding in your Defense Against the Dark Arts, boy? You should."

    "I hope you don't take too much offense, Mr. Moody, but I've had multiple attempts on my life occur in a very short timespan," Harry excused himself with a genuinely apologetic tone. "And they each left me increasingly scarred, so I'm a little testy. I can understand good-natured banter, but I'd like to see some of your credentials."

    "Vigilance is key," the man agreed, with a surprisingly pleased nod. "I won't begrudge you that. I have my badge right here in my coat's left outer pocket, for your perusal. If you don't trust me, have your House Elf take it out."

    "Kreacher?"

    "Y-Yes, of course," Kreacher jumped to the task, removing a shiny badge from the Auror's pocket. Harry viewed the item from a distance.

    Does that look real?

    It's not possible, physically or magically, to fake Auror badges. It's real.

    Harry nodded and lowered his wand. "Alright, I'm convinced. I apologize for the whole thing."

    "Nonsense - it's your own home, and I attacked you," Alastor Moody said, bending over to pick up his wand. "Even though it wasn't a real attack, and wasn't done with any intention to harm, you did excellently replying with such immediate aggression! Were I a real attacker, why you'd stand a good chance!"

    "Are you saying I wasn't in a position of certain victory?" Harry queried, curious whether the man had any useful tips.

    "A matter of experience - I won't tell you how, but I had several ways to knock you out, even without my wand. No worries, though - against a real Death Eater, I'm confident - and strangely proud - to say that you'd have them at your personal mercy. I'm impressed, Potter, and I rarely say that."

    "Thank you. I assume you're here to interrogate me about the Hogwarts attack?"

    "Aye," Moody said, a nasty grin splitting his face. "Shacklebolt got done busy - a suspected break-in into Mungo's not too long ago - so they sent me in his place. I decided that I'd pay you a little unexpected visit when your godpappie's out, and see how you react. I figured that I might offer some clues on how to properly handle a real attacker after, but, again - I'm happy to say that you've got things well in hand, Potter. I've never seen a kid as good as you at your age - to be expected, really, but also good to know the Boy-Who-Lived can handle himself. Are you sure you don't want to be an Auror when you grow?"

    "We'll see," Harry huffed. "Kreacher, make us tea?"

    ---

    Good work on defeating Mad-Eye Moody.

    Obviously, should Mad-Eye have treated you as a serious threat and gone all-out, you'd be lying on the floor right now with a severe case of brainsplatter and he'd be none the worse for wear, but as he said, it's unheard-of for a child; even an exceptional one like you, to get a drop on a veteran Auror like this. The signs of Greatness - as well as extensive training and mental derangement (manifested as paranoia) so amusingly endemic to wizards - are beginning to show in great force.

    Alright, here comes interrogation time. How much do you tell the Auror Office?

    [ ] A Story For the Birdies - Inform Mr. Moody that you know essentially nothing of interest about the Hogwarts Attack. Describe the Azkabanite, obviously, as well as the suspicious, painful effect his presence seemed to have on your scar (there's nothing strange about that), and give some other, minor details, but nothing revealing.

    [ ] Almost Full Disclosure - He's maintaining constant Occlumency barriers so powerful you wouldn't break through with the telepathic equivalent of a power drill, but you can suss out that Mr. Moody probably isn't the sort of guy to report you to the Headmaster for misbehavior. As such, say that you were wandering around the dungeon where you first met the Azkabanite - recite his exact words, describe his reaction to being grievously injured, as well as his overall experience with spellcasting. Make some vague allusions to how you managed to luckily escape, but don't mention the Cloak of Invisibility or anything else to implicate yourself. If asked, you were down there exploring.

    [ ] Write-in
     
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    [X] Almost Full Disclosure - He's maintaining constant Occlumency barriers so powerful you wouldn't break through with the telepathic equivalent of a power drill, but you can suss out that Mr. Moody probably isn't the sort of guy to report you to the Headmaster for misbehavior. As such, say that you were wandering around the dungeon where you first met the Azkabanite - recite his exact words, describe his reaction to being grievously injured, as well as his overall experience with spellcasting. Make some vague allusions to how you managed to luckily escape, but don't mention the Cloak of Invisibility or anything else to implicate yourself. If asked, you were down there exploring.
     
    forums.sufficientvelocity.com

    Harry Potter and the Scabbard of Excalibur [AU]

    The Dursleys, of 4 Privet Drive, live a perfectly normal life together until one grey Tuesday in November of 1981. On his way to work that day, Vernon Dursley notices a stern-looking cat watching his house. He also sees people in the streets, dressed in cloaks and whispering about the Potters...
    forums.sufficientvelocity.com forums.sufficientvelocity.com

    The Chapter where the Azkabanite talked to us. We should go over the conversation first before making a vote maybe?

    Birdsie said:
    "Who are you?" Harry finally asked.

    A dark, bitter chuckle came from the darkness. The man emerged from the Chamber's doorway, and Harry's eyes drank in his strange silhouette. The unknown individual wore a tattered gray robe. Resting on its chest was a faded badge with the mark of a hooded skull crossed by five, spiked wands. Aside from the robes, he was virtually mummified; covered in so many rolls of bandaging that making out his skin color was impossible under the lighting conditions of the cave. The only visible parts of his face were a psychotic, energized grin and widened bloodshot eyes, sadistically crinkled.

    "Me? I'm a wonder a hundred years in the making," the man said, pointing a wand in Harry's direction with his arm slightly bent at the elbow - Harry frowned, because that was an indicator the man was trained in dueling and combat; enough to know such a stance would counter-act a Disarming Charm rather well.

    Harry readied himself to defend against whatever spell the man decided to use. However, no incantation came. Nothing happened.

    Suddenly, the unknown man stumbled back a step, looked up at the ceiling with sudden tears in his eyes - glinting in the strange half-darkness of the cave - then started to laugh maniacally, voice profoundly hoarse.

    "Stupefy!" Harry cried out.

    A ruse - one hand kept in extension, the man's wrist moved to cast a spell with his wand, seemingly without thought, in order to protect him. A see-through disk of energy formed in front of the bandaged man, its color a brilliant, translucent white-blue. It was a powerful Charm.

    "Expelliarmus. Impedimenta!" Harry attempted to no avail, every spell crashing against the shield and dispersing promptly. He'd attuned his shield to energy-based Charms. A different approach was needed; Harry's vision was poor, but he managed to see an opportunity.

    "Flipendo!"

    A stalagmite detached with a pop and then clattered from the ceiling alongside the debris of small rocks. The man's eyes widened as the demise came from the same ceiling he'd been staring at, instead of facing Harry. There wasn't enough proper time to move his wand or to re-attune his Shield Charm. There was, however, more than enough time and space around him to dodge - and in doing so, expose himself to further attack; a part of the plan that Geist had posited. However, rather than doing any of that, the man's grin widened alongside his eyes as the stalagmite came, standing rooted to his spot, as though adamant to see what might happen should the falling projectile land.

    He managed to let out a single, full, 'ha' in the half-second of time before impact, then screamed with his entire throat and body when the stalagmite smashed into his face, squashed his eyes, and pierced deeply into an eye socket. Somehow, by some miracle; perhaps wizard endurance or something more, it didn't kill him on the spot. The bandaged man stood there, a cave-bound picture frame of horrific gore placed in reality, the constant rhythm of his exhilarated and exhausted breath like a shuddering metronome; not unlike Harry's own raggedness caused by the animated agony spearing through his scar.

    Harry's entire body was overwhelmed by numbness; a knot of trepidation laced in his stomach, pushing away at his internal organs as if prodding him to vomit.

    No amount of after-hours combat training in an elegant Charms classroom, or grim memories of bodies carted away under tarps could've prepared him to see that amount of blood spread over a human face. He stepped back, horrified to see as the man's hand went up to his eyelid, spreading over the cheek, where blood trickled down in a stream.

    The bandaged man clutched the stalagmite; then, with a slow, gradual application of force, like a syringe entering one's arm in reverse, began to pull it back. He screamed in fresh torment as this happened, only to breathe and then spit out a wad of bloodied saliva once the stalagmite was removed. He defiantly tossed away the heavy rock, its tip covered in dark fluid, and stood there, breathing and potentially considering the fact he'd lost an eyeball to a fallen cave-stone.

    And then, as though the whole event and its conclusion was nothing more than a simple circus show with excellent visual effects, he again burst into a maddened laughter. Harry was equally terrified and confused, while the bandaged man spoke through his genuinely delighted laughter: "My eye! Hahaha! I'll never see again! Ha-ha-ha-ha!"

    His laughter cut out suddenly, like someone pressing a button on a tape recorder.

    "You're good, kid," the bandaged man said in an unamused tone. Then, in a frank, honest voice, "Incredible, even."

    "Impedimenta!" Another rayburst of translucent force, simply to distract the man, as Harry reached into his robe's interior pocket and pulled out several, rune-scribed rocks. He scattered them around in a single throw, and then, on impact with the floor, the rocks expanded and sprouted additional igneous mass, growing into boulders. After a mere second of growing, the imperative rune of Saturn kicked in and enabled the secondary array, launching the man-sized boulders in a sequence of one-by-one attacks, giving Harry enough time to slip on the Invisibility Cloak while the bandaged man's eyes were occupied on responding to the attacks.

    As soon as the entire thing was over, split and cracked pieces of rock surrounding him, the bandaged man chuckled in merriment. "Hiding, are we? How smart, boy! I'll give you five points! Five points to Hufflepuff indeed... However, there is a critical fact you didn't account for - Revelio!"

    A streamer of pale cyan light rose above the man's head. It hovered for a second, then dissipated like mist. The bandaged man looked up in brief, sincere confusion, then gently tapped his wand as if checking to see whether or not it worked correctly.

    "Ahem, Revelio." He repeated the spell, with identical results. A little frustrated by the event, the man grit his teeth and looked around. "Hmm..."

    Realizing that combat wasn't about to restart - at least, not immediately - Harry started to walk past him, intending to strike unexpectedly from the back. Alternatively, if Harry was able to get close enough, he'd be able to apply a knock-out rune directly to the unknown wizard's nape.

    The man, in the meantime, raised his hand and transformed a part of the floor into a fine, gray dust. He cast yet another spell, one that conjured a mighty gust, blowing the dust over the cave. Magically, none of it settled on Harry, blowing past - and somewhat, even through - him, as though the cloak's surface was dustophobic.

    The bandaged man looked confused and stupefied, seemingly concluding that Harry was no longer present, having escaped at some point. He moved from his spot, in a sudden, rapid jog, in the direction of the stairs. Harry felt a mote of hesitation, uncertain whether to fire an attack in the man's back, or ignore him.
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    He'd want to know what the Azkabanite was looking for in the chamber, as a part of his investigation. That means they could pry where the entrance is from us. And search inside for clues. Parsetongue is notoriously learnable and the school is closed for the vacation - ideal time for an investigation.

    There might be a fight the Basilisk we've set to be on guard. And they might find what the Azkabanite was after in the Chamber. The secrets of the Chamber might protect itself or be set up for perusal in the Department of Mysteries.

    I suggest we don't be lazy and someone come up with a write in where we say something plausible.

    We should probably reveal our Rat speak by the way. And the Horoscope we made for Dumbledore.
     
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    Holy heck Harry, his harrowing hauntings hashed his head hard.

    Alliteration aside, we really need to get some mental stability back, it looks like. Although, is it wrong to feel proud about that landmine setup? Like, Harry really needs some help, but that was legit creative.

    [X] Almost Full Disclosure

    Ultimately, the more we're able to disclose, the more likely they are of catching the Azkabanite. I'm willing to risk letting something slip if it increases the chances this'll get taken care of.
     
    KidFromPallet said:
    Holy heck Harry, his harrowing hauntings hashed his head hard.

    Alliteration aside, we really need to get some mental stability back, it looks like. Although, is it wrong to feel proud about that landmine setup? Like, Harry really needs some help, but that was legit creative.

    [X] Almost Full Disclosure

    Ultimately, the more we're able to disclose, the more likely they are of catching the Azkabanite. I'm willing to risk letting something slip if it increases the chances this'll get taken care of.
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    Even if the ministry knows we got into the chamber from having Geist in our head?
     
    KidFromPallet said:
    Alliteration aside, we really need to get some mental stability back, it looks like. Although, is it wrong to feel proud about that landmine setup? Like, Harry really needs some help, but that was legit creative.
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    What's crazy is that we're a teamwork build, and he did all that on his own.

    Can you imagine how bullshit he's going to be once he's stable enough to involve others reliably?
     
    [X] Almost Full Disclosure - He's maintaining constant Occlumency barriers so powerful you wouldn't break through with the telepathic equivalent of a power drill, but you can suss out that Mr. Moody probably isn't the sort of guy to report you to the Headmaster for misbehavior. As such, say that you were wandering around the dungeon where you first met the Azkabanite - recite his exact words, describe his reaction to being grievously injured, as well as his overall experience with spellcasting. Make some vague allusions to how you managed to luckily escape, but don't mention the Cloak of Invisibility or anything else to implicate yourself. If asked, you were down there exploring.

    Birdsie said:
    As you know, time moves forwards - however, according to STET, it also moves backward. See, according to STET, as the future is shaped, the past is shaped in equal measure - the content of the former demands some context from the latter, and so the latter is reshaped to suit the former. In other words, the past is generated as an explanation for the future, in a way that's made logical sense from the beginning of the singularity that pushed time to expand in both directions. A bunch of experiments and independent studies done over the early 1700s made contributions to the theory. Although it was never conclusively proven or disproven, evidence weighs heavily in its favor.

    Harry breathed in and out. "What's that got to do with Atlantis?"

    I believe what your brain perceives in your dreams is what STET calls a section-degenerate retrotime potentiality. It creates an alternate past, which is equally likely to the past which actually happened. The difference is negligible from the perspective of a modern observer - Atlantis exists and is then sunk and destroyed - much as your perspective of a potential future might be. The past is no more set in stone than the future until irrefutable evidence arises of a certainty that 'must happen' or 'must have happened.'
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I've read this several times now and given it some thought.

    The theory suggests that a possible solution to Harry's nightmare problem is to find a way to collapse the waveform. Find or create proof that his nightmares couldn't have happened, and it'll never have happened.
     
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    [X] A Story For the Birdies

    Getting help with the Azkaban prisoner would be nice but the cost are to great. If we tell him we met the prisoner before he might want to take our memory of the event to try to figure out everything he can which would obviously screw us over. We legally could not refuse either because the discission would be Sirius not our. And he would likely make us do it for our own good

    This would both mean that the ministry would take everything from the Chamber of secrets and they would obviously want to know how we found the chamber which would likely lead them to finding out about Geist

    If we chose to tell him we should make sure harry gives a specific location in the dungeon where he met him so they don't have as many reasons to look in our head. Thou we would have to either pike a place in the dungeon where everything that happened in the Chamber makes sense for example we hit him with a stalagmite or what ever those thing are called so where we supposably talked to him would also need to have those
     
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