Contaminants
- Location
- California
AN: Apologies for the delay. I had to travel unexpectedly, but I am back.
You hear Hagrid trying to comfort his pets as you approach his cabin. When you knock on the door, he opens the door very narrowly.
"Zagroose! Come in quick! Don't let them float out!"
You squeeze in, confused, but once inside you quickly spot the problem. All of Hagrid's rat creatures are skittering upside down on the wooden roof, their sharp claws leaving grooves on the ceiling. They chitter excitedly, occasionally running down strands of rope to gnaw at the dried meat hanging from them, before losing their grip and floating back upwards. Fang, meanwhile, whimpers pathetically as he floats back and forth just under the ceiling, moving his legs uselessly. Under your windsight, the beasts all shimmer with a faint aura of ersatz Azyr, similar to a levitation spell.
"Hagrid," you say, "Do your pets usually float?"
"No," says Hagrid, shaking his head, "jus' a small accident with some Billywigs. They got stung, see. Not too painful, but makes 'em float. Should wear off in a few hours. Come 'ere Fang."
He reaches up and grabs Fang by the leg, before gently tucking the dog under his armpit.
"What brings you, Zagroose?" he asks, smiling, "it's a bit windy for potions practice."
You decide to get straight to the point.
"I had a vision about Fluffy," you say.
Hagrid stumbles on the way to the kettle, knocking his head on a hanging lantern. He rubs his head, inadvertently letting go of Fang, who floats back up with a sad whimper. As you tell him about your vision, Hagrid looks increasingly agitated.
"Merlin's hat Zagroose, yeh need teh keep Fluffy out of yer mind," he howls. He turns away, pouring himself an amber coloured drink from a large glass bottle.
"How are we supposed teh keep a secret when they can just ruddy dream 'bout it?" he mumbles.
"I'm worried about Neville," you say, "He was in danger because something came out of the corridor."
"Fluffy is a good boy!" says Hagrid.
You hesitate a few moments, thinking about how to phrase your thoughts delicately.
"I read that Cerberi are very loyal and vigilant guardians. They're not gentle towards intruders. That doesn't make them bad," you say, quietly.
"Fluffy would never hurt a child," says Hagrid, looking out the window to check if somebody is there, "Listen, I probably shouldn't tell yeh this, but if it'll keep yeh out o' trouble…"
You wait expectantly.
"Near the beginning o' the year, two Slytherin duffers decided to go in the forbidden corridor fer a bet. Fluffy barked at 'em, grabbed 'em by the scruff o' their robes an' tossed 'em around a bit. Scared 'em straight, he did, but didn't hurt a hair on their heads. Well, maybe aside from some bruises…"
You frown. You definitely heard ripping flesh and snapping bone in your vision.
"Besides, how could Fluffy open the door? He doesn't have the key," continues Hagrid, "Or hands!"
A fair point.
"What if somebody else is trying to get through him?" you ask, "And I saw Neville get caught up in the commotion?"
Hagrid remains silent for a few moments.
"Well, I don' think anyone would be mad enough to try to steal the Phil– thing under Dumbledore's nose," he says, catching himself, "But I suppose it'd be smart for Neville to avoid the corridor anyway."
===============================
You're studying in the library, having just walked Neville back to his common room. You'd intended to do some more reading on local customs surrounding death, but had gotten side tracked by a Transfiguration oddity. You notice someone approaching and look up, spotting a familiar mane of bushy brown hair.
"Excuse me," says Hermione, "How long will you be using that book? Madam Pince told me that it's the only copy that hasn't been checked out."
"I'm not sure…" you answer honestly, "I'm trying to get to the bottom of something."
Hermione looks at you impatiently.
"Well, what are you trying to find out? Maybe I can help so you can give me that book faster…"
You frown and look up in annoyance, but consider her offer. Hermione is rather knowledgeable for a first year…
"Do you remember the simple metal transfiguration spell Professor McGonagall mentioned in class?" you ask, as Hermione nods, "She said that the spell works on pure metal, not on steel. I'm trying to find out why."
Hermione suddenly perks up.
"I was curious about that too and I figured it out!" she says, quite pleased with herself. You wait expectantly. In your experience, Hermione likes knowing what others do not – but she is no hoarder of knowledge.
"The spell only works on objects that are only made of metal," she explains.
"I know that," you say, "The spell works on iron…"
"Pure iron, yes," she cuts in.
"... but steel is purified and refined iron," you say, remembering the village smith spending hours hammering out the slag.
Hermione shakes her head.
"You're wrong. Steel is a mixture of iron and carbon."
Carbon. It takes you a moment to remember the meaning of the word. It's rather obscure – probably Classical.
"Carbon? You mean charcoal?" you ask.
Hermione takes a moment to think.
"Not exactly, no, but charcoal is made of carbon. Mostly," she says.
"So the charcoal contaminates the steel in the forge?" you ask, confused, "But not any of the other metals?"
"The carbon isn't a contaminant," explains Hermione, "It's an essential part of steel. Remove all the carbon, and you're left with pure but weaker iron."
You digest her words for a few moments. It seems wrong, but you remind yourself you are no smith or Gold Wizard. It's certainly possible you are just as ignorant of metalworking as a muggle is of magic. You weigh your curiosity against the embarrassment of coming across as an ignorant bumpkin, and decide that seed has already been planted.
"What do you mean charcoal is made of carbon?" you ask.
Hermione launches into an excited explanation of carbon, which she describes as an element.
Like copper, Sigmar's Blood, or water then. One of the fundamental components of the material world.
Carbon, apparently, is very common. It is an essential part of all living beings…
"At least, all the non-magical ones…" explains Hermione.
… and part of every morsel of food and exhaled breath. Soot and charcoal are mostly carbon. Pure carbon can come in the form of "graphite" – which after some explanation you deduce is the local name for plumbago – and, bizarrely enough, diamonds.
"But diamonds are so shiny and clear," you say, confused, "How is it they're made of glorified soot?"
"Glass is also clear," says Hermione, doing her best impression of a tutor, "Do you know what it's made from?"
You nod hesitantly, thrown off by the change in subject.
"Not carbon, surely? Isn't it mostly sand and… Ah," you say, "I see your point."
Clarity can come from unexpected sources.
"Anyway, the wizard understanding of elements is quite fascinating. There's not much modern chemistry but there's a lot of overlap with old alchemical stuff, except a lot of it actually works!" says Hermione.
You close the book in front of you and slide it over to her.
"You can have it now," you rasp.
"Thank you," she says with a satisfied smile, before turning to leave.
"Wait," you say, "I need to talk to you about Neville." Hermione looks surprised, then sits back down across from you.
"What about him?" she asks.
You explain that Neville has been locked out of his common room late at night, leaving out any mention of your vision. Hermione's eyes widen.
"He never told me that," she says, "I knew he had trouble with the passwords but why would he…?"
Hermione looks up at you, more determined, "I'll help him."
You nod.
"Also, just… keep an eye on him will you? Make sure he doesn't get into trouble. You're his friend, I think, and you're in Gryffindor with him," you say.
Hermione gives you a searching look.
"This from the boy who took him on a moonlight Thestral ride?"
"That was supervised by Professor Kettleburn and our esteemed Keeper of Keys," you say, with more confidence than you feel, "You set him on fire on the lake."
Hermione scoffs.
"It barely singed his robes!" she says, her voice becoming louder and more shrill, "You're the one who was swinging a glowing scythe right next to Harry's head!"
Madam Pince pokes her head around a nearby bookshelf, letting out a loud shush.
"Mister Nyx, Miss Granger, I remind you this is a library."
Hermione goes red and apologises. Madam Pince walks away.
"I was being quiet," you mumble, "You got me into trouble."
Hermione scowls.
"You… your voice… you have an unfair advantage," she hisses, careful to keep her voice at a whisper.
You let out a snort of laughter. As you realise what you've done, your eyes widen, and you slap your hand over your nose and mouth, making even more noise. A loud shushing noise erupts from further in the library, but to your relief Madam Pince does not reappear.
"I'm sorry," says Hermione, seemingly regretting her words as soon as she said them, "I didn't mean…"
"It's alright," you say, amusement replacing worry, "You're not exactly wrong."
A few moments pass as you gather yourself.
"Have you told the Professors about Neville?" asks Hermione. You nod.
"Good," she says, "I'll keep an eye on him. Anything else?"
Your mind goes to your tabletop game. Much of the setting was still unfamiliar to you.
"Since you know about all this chemistry stuff," you say, "Can you explain the difference between steel and Durasteel?"
Hermione bites her lip in concentration.
"Durasteel? Is that a goblin thing? I know they do all sorts of things with metal…" she whispers.
"No, it's muggle," you say, much to her confusion.
==============================
When you arrive at your tabletop game early, no more informed about Durasteel, Penny O'Cahan is the only one there. She's not the sort to remain quiet when there is somebody to talk to.
"It's odd they didn't come up with it sooner," says Penny, as she sets up the table, "Really, all you need to play this stuff is some dice, something to write on, and imagination. You couldn't play Quidditch in Roman times, even if you knew how – they hadn't invented the spells for the brooms and the balls yet. Same with muggle stuff. No luck if you wanted to watch telly or play a video game – the technology wasn't there yet. But this…"
She gestures to the dice, parchment, and rulesbooks strewn across the table,
"There's no reason they couldn't have been playing this back then," she says.
You don't recognize everything Penny mentions, but you understand her argument.
"You have to be literate," you say, "and know some mathematics." Of the muggles you knew, only a handful could play this game.
Penny tilts her head.
"That's a good point," she says, "But there are simpler tabletop games, or it could be a rich person's hobby."
The rest of the club soon joins you. Penny describes where you left off – having stolen a pirate ship while recovering supplies for a prison raid.
"Isn't this a converted Imperial customs ship?" asks Justin Finch-Fletchley, as you all discuss your next move.
"It is," says Penny.
"Well, why don't we pretend to be an Imperial crew?" He says, "We can land right in the prison, instead of sneaking in from the outside."
You all spend a long time hammering out the details and preparing the ship. Eventually, the ship approaches the prison, and all of you wait with bated breath while Justin's character, Dan Duo, attempts to bluff the garrison and obtain "docking clearance."
It's a disaster. Alarms blare in the prison as heavy cannons from the ground attempt to knock your void ship out of the sky. Unlike the pirate camp, the prison has a complement of flying craft which rise to attack you. You spend the better part of an hour defending the ship against the enemy flyers, bombarding the prison with its blaster cannons, and patching up the ship.
Sally-Anne has the idea of dropping crates full of weapons where the prisoners are being kept and a fight soon erupts between them and their guards.
Throughout the fight, the prison attempts to contact reinforcements, which Sue Li's R2-D20 prevents with some sort of technical wizardry. Still, eventually Dan Duo is forced to ram his crippled ship into a "communication dish" near the centre of the prison.
All of you survive, albeit injured, and Penny concludes the session.
"Just ask to land in the prison, what could go wrong?" says Nikhil, with a smirk.
"Well, he did land us in the prison," you rasp, "just was a bit more exciting than he expected."
"Everyone's a critic," says Justin, in good humour.
=======================
You soon find yourself at the Ravenclaw Common Room door alongside Sue Li and two second-year Ravenclaws – Marcus Belby and Eddie Carmicheal.
"I have one lock but many keys," says the eagle knocker. You and Sue think in silence, while Marcus and Eddie discuss possible answers.
"A keyboard," shouts Sue excitedly, interrupting their debate. The door opens, allowing the four of you entry. Eddie turns to Sue.
"What's a keyboard?" he asks.
"It's a muggle device that– "
The boys both shake their heads and groan.
"I hate it when the answer is muggle shit," interrupts Marcus.
A flash of hurt passes over Sue's face as he walks up to her dormitory. You frown. What were the boys on about? Each riddle usually had many answers.
Many keys.
Now that you think about it, the door itself would have been a valid answer to the riddle. No knowledge of "muggle shit" needed.
Later, as you write an essay for Herbology, you notice Sue scribbling on a scrap of parchment with a muggle pen. Next to her is a closed black book, a page in it marked with a ribbon, and its title partially obscured by crumbled up parchment.
Karel the Robot: A Gentle Introduction to –
Sue leans back in her seat, chewing on her pen in thought, allowing you a glimpse of the parchment. On top there are rectangular blocks with angular lines within, and below that is writing – some of it scribbled out. You can make out some of it:
ELSEmove
You recognize individual words, but not their combined meaning. You watch as Sue moves the tip of her pen through inside the strange, almost runic looking blocks, careful not to touch the edges. Soon she notices you're looking at her work instead of your own.
"It's not schoolwork," she says, keeping her eyes on the parchment, "Just muggle crap."
"What kind?" you ask.
She looks at you for a moment before answering.
"It's a puzzle – I'm trying to write an algorithm to solve mazes," she says, noticing your look of confusion, "It's like a set of instructions to solve a problem."
You look more closely at the blocks. They do indeed look like mazes, as seen from above.
"Isn't it easy when you can look down and see the whole maze?" you ask.
Sue frowns and bites her lip.
"These are just examples to test on, the algorithm needs to work on every maze. Besides, the robot can't see the whole maze, only what's right next to it."
"Where is the robot?" you ask, confused.
With a sigh, Sue taps the side of her head with her pen, "It's an imaginary robot," she says, returning to her mazes.
You spend a few minutes very confused before you remember some of the characters she has played with you – and what they are good at.
"Are you learning slicing? Like what your character R2-D20 does?" you ask.
Sue looks at you taken aback, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing.
"Nothing that fancy. But yes, I'm learning how to code," she says, before she averts her gaze, "Trying to at least."
A few moments of silence pass.
"My dad always said the future is in computers. He started teaching me just before I learned that I was a witch," says Sue, not noticing as you wince, "I can't really do it at Hogwarts."
"You're doing it now, aren't you?" you say.
"Sure, but this is just pen and paper. Can't put it into practice without a computer," she says, "It's like learning to cook without going into a kitchen."
She shakes her head.
"Bit of a silly thing to miss when you're learning actual magic," she says with a sigh, "Well, there's always the holidays."
=======================
The accursed smell had been the bane of his existence for weeks. Herbs had power, certainly, but he knew the boy carried more than mere rose and cypress.
Whatever the source, its effects persisted when he held his breath, and even after his guest had forced him to cauterise his own nasal cavity, obliterating his sense of smell. The Bubble-Head Charm helped, but was not enough – the effect would seep in through his skin.
How had the boy managed to ward himself so effectively? The Aurors would have paid dearly for something so effective. Had it been Dumbledore's doing? Why wasn't Potter similarly warded?
Questions without a clear answer.
In the end, he had to charm all of his clothing to be utterly impermeable, wear gloves, and use the Bubble-Head charm to even pass by the boy without immense discomfort. Finding a solution was only one part of the problem – he also had to ensure nobody realised he did it because of Zagreus. Thus, he maintained these measures constantly, even when the boy was nowhere near him.
His reputation for meekness and overcaution proved to be a great boon. When pressed, he told his colleagues and students that he was sensitive towards a certain pungent herb he had taken to carrying around to repel dark creatures – including Grindylows. He could see the pity and contempt in their eyes as they witnessed the further decline of a wizard who already stuttered and reeked of garlic.
Poor cowardly Quirrell, afraid that Grindylows are going to walk on land and strangle him in his sleep…
No matter. The more they thought him a spineless worm, the less they would suspect.
While not back to his original schedule, Professor Quirrell had resumed teaching his 5th and 7th years, due to their upcoming OWLs and NEWTs. After concluding his most recent class, he observes a slim boy with messy brown hair – Edward Dobbin, the current Ravenclaw Seeker.
"D-d-dobbin. A word p-p-please."
Dobbin blinks, then approaches Professor Quirrell's desk.
"T-t-turn out your b-bag," says Quirrell.
"Sir?" says Dobbin, taken aback.
"D-d-do it," stutters Quirrell, "P-p-please."
Dobbin hesitates for a moment before emptying his bag on the desk. School books, quills, parchment, potion ingredients, and a small silver flask. Dobbin tenses up as Professor Quirrell unscrews the cap of the flask, waves his wand around it and makes a show of sniffing it.
"F-firewhisky is c-c-contraband, D-dobbin," says Quirrell, before recoiling from the stony expression on Dobbin's face, "S-s-since y-you are of age, I w-will not g-give you d-detention. But I will t-take t-t-ten… no, f-f-five p-points from R-ravenclaw."
Quirrell vanishes the whisky from the flask, before helping Dobbin repack his bag.
"D-dismissed" says Professor Quirrell, and Dobbin heads to Potions – his vial of powdered asphodel replaced by one seemingly identical but far more exciting.
[X] Talk to Hagrid about your concerns
[X] Just tell her that Neville's been locked out of the common room before. Ask her to help make sure he isn't again.
[X] Just tell her that Neville's been locked out of the common room before. Ask her to help make sure he isn't again.
You hear Hagrid trying to comfort his pets as you approach his cabin. When you knock on the door, he opens the door very narrowly.
"Zagroose! Come in quick! Don't let them float out!"
You squeeze in, confused, but once inside you quickly spot the problem. All of Hagrid's rat creatures are skittering upside down on the wooden roof, their sharp claws leaving grooves on the ceiling. They chitter excitedly, occasionally running down strands of rope to gnaw at the dried meat hanging from them, before losing their grip and floating back upwards. Fang, meanwhile, whimpers pathetically as he floats back and forth just under the ceiling, moving his legs uselessly. Under your windsight, the beasts all shimmer with a faint aura of ersatz Azyr, similar to a levitation spell.
"Hagrid," you say, "Do your pets usually float?"
"No," says Hagrid, shaking his head, "jus' a small accident with some Billywigs. They got stung, see. Not too painful, but makes 'em float. Should wear off in a few hours. Come 'ere Fang."
He reaches up and grabs Fang by the leg, before gently tucking the dog under his armpit.
"What brings you, Zagroose?" he asks, smiling, "it's a bit windy for potions practice."
You decide to get straight to the point.
"I had a vision about Fluffy," you say.
Hagrid stumbles on the way to the kettle, knocking his head on a hanging lantern. He rubs his head, inadvertently letting go of Fang, who floats back up with a sad whimper. As you tell him about your vision, Hagrid looks increasingly agitated.
"Merlin's hat Zagroose, yeh need teh keep Fluffy out of yer mind," he howls. He turns away, pouring himself an amber coloured drink from a large glass bottle.
"How are we supposed teh keep a secret when they can just ruddy dream 'bout it?" he mumbles.
"I'm worried about Neville," you say, "He was in danger because something came out of the corridor."
"Fluffy is a good boy!" says Hagrid.
You hesitate a few moments, thinking about how to phrase your thoughts delicately.
"I read that Cerberi are very loyal and vigilant guardians. They're not gentle towards intruders. That doesn't make them bad," you say, quietly.
"Fluffy would never hurt a child," says Hagrid, looking out the window to check if somebody is there, "Listen, I probably shouldn't tell yeh this, but if it'll keep yeh out o' trouble…"
You wait expectantly.
"Near the beginning o' the year, two Slytherin duffers decided to go in the forbidden corridor fer a bet. Fluffy barked at 'em, grabbed 'em by the scruff o' their robes an' tossed 'em around a bit. Scared 'em straight, he did, but didn't hurt a hair on their heads. Well, maybe aside from some bruises…"
You frown. You definitely heard ripping flesh and snapping bone in your vision.
"Besides, how could Fluffy open the door? He doesn't have the key," continues Hagrid, "Or hands!"
A fair point.
"What if somebody else is trying to get through him?" you ask, "And I saw Neville get caught up in the commotion?"
Hagrid remains silent for a few moments.
"Well, I don' think anyone would be mad enough to try to steal the Phil– thing under Dumbledore's nose," he says, catching himself, "But I suppose it'd be smart for Neville to avoid the corridor anyway."
===============================
You're studying in the library, having just walked Neville back to his common room. You'd intended to do some more reading on local customs surrounding death, but had gotten side tracked by a Transfiguration oddity. You notice someone approaching and look up, spotting a familiar mane of bushy brown hair.
"Excuse me," says Hermione, "How long will you be using that book? Madam Pince told me that it's the only copy that hasn't been checked out."
"I'm not sure…" you answer honestly, "I'm trying to get to the bottom of something."
Hermione looks at you impatiently.
"Well, what are you trying to find out? Maybe I can help so you can give me that book faster…"
You frown and look up in annoyance, but consider her offer. Hermione is rather knowledgeable for a first year…
"Do you remember the simple metal transfiguration spell Professor McGonagall mentioned in class?" you ask, as Hermione nods, "She said that the spell works on pure metal, not on steel. I'm trying to find out why."
Hermione suddenly perks up.
"I was curious about that too and I figured it out!" she says, quite pleased with herself. You wait expectantly. In your experience, Hermione likes knowing what others do not – but she is no hoarder of knowledge.
"The spell only works on objects that are only made of metal," she explains.
"I know that," you say, "The spell works on iron…"
"Pure iron, yes," she cuts in.
"... but steel is purified and refined iron," you say, remembering the village smith spending hours hammering out the slag.
Hermione shakes her head.
"You're wrong. Steel is a mixture of iron and carbon."
Carbon. It takes you a moment to remember the meaning of the word. It's rather obscure – probably Classical.
"Carbon? You mean charcoal?" you ask.
Hermione takes a moment to think.
"Not exactly, no, but charcoal is made of carbon. Mostly," she says.
"So the charcoal contaminates the steel in the forge?" you ask, confused, "But not any of the other metals?"
"The carbon isn't a contaminant," explains Hermione, "It's an essential part of steel. Remove all the carbon, and you're left with pure but weaker iron."
You digest her words for a few moments. It seems wrong, but you remind yourself you are no smith or Gold Wizard. It's certainly possible you are just as ignorant of metalworking as a muggle is of magic. You weigh your curiosity against the embarrassment of coming across as an ignorant bumpkin, and decide that seed has already been planted.
"What do you mean charcoal is made of carbon?" you ask.
Hermione launches into an excited explanation of carbon, which she describes as an element.
Like copper, Sigmar's Blood, or water then. One of the fundamental components of the material world.
Carbon, apparently, is very common. It is an essential part of all living beings…
"At least, all the non-magical ones…" explains Hermione.
… and part of every morsel of food and exhaled breath. Soot and charcoal are mostly carbon. Pure carbon can come in the form of "graphite" – which after some explanation you deduce is the local name for plumbago – and, bizarrely enough, diamonds.
"But diamonds are so shiny and clear," you say, confused, "How is it they're made of glorified soot?"
"Glass is also clear," says Hermione, doing her best impression of a tutor, "Do you know what it's made from?"
You nod hesitantly, thrown off by the change in subject.
"Not carbon, surely? Isn't it mostly sand and… Ah," you say, "I see your point."
Clarity can come from unexpected sources.
"Anyway, the wizard understanding of elements is quite fascinating. There's not much modern chemistry but there's a lot of overlap with old alchemical stuff, except a lot of it actually works!" says Hermione.
You close the book in front of you and slide it over to her.
"You can have it now," you rasp.
"Thank you," she says with a satisfied smile, before turning to leave.
"Wait," you say, "I need to talk to you about Neville." Hermione looks surprised, then sits back down across from you.
"What about him?" she asks.
You explain that Neville has been locked out of his common room late at night, leaving out any mention of your vision. Hermione's eyes widen.
"He never told me that," she says, "I knew he had trouble with the passwords but why would he…?"
Hermione looks up at you, more determined, "I'll help him."
You nod.
"Also, just… keep an eye on him will you? Make sure he doesn't get into trouble. You're his friend, I think, and you're in Gryffindor with him," you say.
Hermione gives you a searching look.
"This from the boy who took him on a moonlight Thestral ride?"
"That was supervised by Professor Kettleburn and our esteemed Keeper of Keys," you say, with more confidence than you feel, "You set him on fire on the lake."
Hermione scoffs.
"It barely singed his robes!" she says, her voice becoming louder and more shrill, "You're the one who was swinging a glowing scythe right next to Harry's head!"
Madam Pince pokes her head around a nearby bookshelf, letting out a loud shush.
"Mister Nyx, Miss Granger, I remind you this is a library."
Hermione goes red and apologises. Madam Pince walks away.
"I was being quiet," you mumble, "You got me into trouble."
Hermione scowls.
"You… your voice… you have an unfair advantage," she hisses, careful to keep her voice at a whisper.
You let out a snort of laughter. As you realise what you've done, your eyes widen, and you slap your hand over your nose and mouth, making even more noise. A loud shushing noise erupts from further in the library, but to your relief Madam Pince does not reappear.
"I'm sorry," says Hermione, seemingly regretting her words as soon as she said them, "I didn't mean…"
"It's alright," you say, amusement replacing worry, "You're not exactly wrong."
A few moments pass as you gather yourself.
"Have you told the Professors about Neville?" asks Hermione. You nod.
"Good," she says, "I'll keep an eye on him. Anything else?"
Your mind goes to your tabletop game. Much of the setting was still unfamiliar to you.
"Since you know about all this chemistry stuff," you say, "Can you explain the difference between steel and Durasteel?"
Hermione bites her lip in concentration.
"Durasteel? Is that a goblin thing? I know they do all sorts of things with metal…" she whispers.
"No, it's muggle," you say, much to her confusion.
==============================
When you arrive at your tabletop game early, no more informed about Durasteel, Penny O'Cahan is the only one there. She's not the sort to remain quiet when there is somebody to talk to.
"It's odd they didn't come up with it sooner," says Penny, as she sets up the table, "Really, all you need to play this stuff is some dice, something to write on, and imagination. You couldn't play Quidditch in Roman times, even if you knew how – they hadn't invented the spells for the brooms and the balls yet. Same with muggle stuff. No luck if you wanted to watch telly or play a video game – the technology wasn't there yet. But this…"
She gestures to the dice, parchment, and rulesbooks strewn across the table,
"There's no reason they couldn't have been playing this back then," she says.
You don't recognize everything Penny mentions, but you understand her argument.
"You have to be literate," you say, "and know some mathematics." Of the muggles you knew, only a handful could play this game.
Penny tilts her head.
"That's a good point," she says, "But there are simpler tabletop games, or it could be a rich person's hobby."
The rest of the club soon joins you. Penny describes where you left off – having stolen a pirate ship while recovering supplies for a prison raid.
"Isn't this a converted Imperial customs ship?" asks Justin Finch-Fletchley, as you all discuss your next move.
"It is," says Penny.
"Well, why don't we pretend to be an Imperial crew?" He says, "We can land right in the prison, instead of sneaking in from the outside."
You all spend a long time hammering out the details and preparing the ship. Eventually, the ship approaches the prison, and all of you wait with bated breath while Justin's character, Dan Duo, attempts to bluff the garrison and obtain "docking clearance."
It's a disaster. Alarms blare in the prison as heavy cannons from the ground attempt to knock your void ship out of the sky. Unlike the pirate camp, the prison has a complement of flying craft which rise to attack you. You spend the better part of an hour defending the ship against the enemy flyers, bombarding the prison with its blaster cannons, and patching up the ship.
Sally-Anne has the idea of dropping crates full of weapons where the prisoners are being kept and a fight soon erupts between them and their guards.
Throughout the fight, the prison attempts to contact reinforcements, which Sue Li's R2-D20 prevents with some sort of technical wizardry. Still, eventually Dan Duo is forced to ram his crippled ship into a "communication dish" near the centre of the prison.
All of you survive, albeit injured, and Penny concludes the session.
"Just ask to land in the prison, what could go wrong?" says Nikhil, with a smirk.
"Well, he did land us in the prison," you rasp, "just was a bit more exciting than he expected."
"Everyone's a critic," says Justin, in good humour.
=======================
You soon find yourself at the Ravenclaw Common Room door alongside Sue Li and two second-year Ravenclaws – Marcus Belby and Eddie Carmicheal.
"I have one lock but many keys," says the eagle knocker. You and Sue think in silence, while Marcus and Eddie discuss possible answers.
"A keyboard," shouts Sue excitedly, interrupting their debate. The door opens, allowing the four of you entry. Eddie turns to Sue.
"What's a keyboard?" he asks.
"It's a muggle device that– "
The boys both shake their heads and groan.
"I hate it when the answer is muggle shit," interrupts Marcus.
A flash of hurt passes over Sue's face as he walks up to her dormitory. You frown. What were the boys on about? Each riddle usually had many answers.
Many keys.
Now that you think about it, the door itself would have been a valid answer to the riddle. No knowledge of "muggle shit" needed.
Later, as you write an essay for Herbology, you notice Sue scribbling on a scrap of parchment with a muggle pen. Next to her is a closed black book, a page in it marked with a ribbon, and its title partially obscured by crumbled up parchment.
Karel the Robot: A Gentle Introduction to –
Sue leans back in her seat, chewing on her pen in thought, allowing you a glimpse of the parchment. On top there are rectangular blocks with angular lines within, and below that is writing – some of it scribbled out. You can make out some of it:
WHILE not-next-to-a-beeper DO
IF left-is-clear
THEN
turnleft
move
move
turnoff
You recognize individual words, but not their combined meaning. You watch as Sue moves the tip of her pen through inside the strange, almost runic looking blocks, careful not to touch the edges. Soon she notices you're looking at her work instead of your own.
"It's not schoolwork," she says, keeping her eyes on the parchment, "Just muggle crap."
"What kind?" you ask.
She looks at you for a moment before answering.
"It's a puzzle – I'm trying to write an algorithm to solve mazes," she says, noticing your look of confusion, "It's like a set of instructions to solve a problem."
You look more closely at the blocks. They do indeed look like mazes, as seen from above.
"Isn't it easy when you can look down and see the whole maze?" you ask.
Sue frowns and bites her lip.
"These are just examples to test on, the algorithm needs to work on every maze. Besides, the robot can't see the whole maze, only what's right next to it."
"Where is the robot?" you ask, confused.
With a sigh, Sue taps the side of her head with her pen, "It's an imaginary robot," she says, returning to her mazes.
You spend a few minutes very confused before you remember some of the characters she has played with you – and what they are good at.
"Are you learning slicing? Like what your character R2-D20 does?" you ask.
Sue looks at you taken aback, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing.
"Nothing that fancy. But yes, I'm learning how to code," she says, before she averts her gaze, "Trying to at least."
A few moments of silence pass.
"My dad always said the future is in computers. He started teaching me just before I learned that I was a witch," says Sue, not noticing as you wince, "I can't really do it at Hogwarts."
"You're doing it now, aren't you?" you say.
"Sure, but this is just pen and paper. Can't put it into practice without a computer," she says, "It's like learning to cook without going into a kitchen."
She shakes her head.
"Bit of a silly thing to miss when you're learning actual magic," she says with a sigh, "Well, there's always the holidays."
=======================
The accursed smell had been the bane of his existence for weeks. Herbs had power, certainly, but he knew the boy carried more than mere rose and cypress.
Whatever the source, its effects persisted when he held his breath, and even after his guest had forced him to cauterise his own nasal cavity, obliterating his sense of smell. The Bubble-Head Charm helped, but was not enough – the effect would seep in through his skin.
How had the boy managed to ward himself so effectively? The Aurors would have paid dearly for something so effective. Had it been Dumbledore's doing? Why wasn't Potter similarly warded?
Questions without a clear answer.
In the end, he had to charm all of his clothing to be utterly impermeable, wear gloves, and use the Bubble-Head charm to even pass by the boy without immense discomfort. Finding a solution was only one part of the problem – he also had to ensure nobody realised he did it because of Zagreus. Thus, he maintained these measures constantly, even when the boy was nowhere near him.
His reputation for meekness and overcaution proved to be a great boon. When pressed, he told his colleagues and students that he was sensitive towards a certain pungent herb he had taken to carrying around to repel dark creatures – including Grindylows. He could see the pity and contempt in their eyes as they witnessed the further decline of a wizard who already stuttered and reeked of garlic.
Poor cowardly Quirrell, afraid that Grindylows are going to walk on land and strangle him in his sleep…
No matter. The more they thought him a spineless worm, the less they would suspect.
While not back to his original schedule, Professor Quirrell had resumed teaching his 5th and 7th years, due to their upcoming OWLs and NEWTs. After concluding his most recent class, he observes a slim boy with messy brown hair – Edward Dobbin, the current Ravenclaw Seeker.
"D-d-dobbin. A word p-p-please."
Dobbin blinks, then approaches Professor Quirrell's desk.
"T-t-turn out your b-bag," says Quirrell.
"Sir?" says Dobbin, taken aback.
"D-d-do it," stutters Quirrell, "P-p-please."
Dobbin hesitates for a moment before emptying his bag on the desk. School books, quills, parchment, potion ingredients, and a small silver flask. Dobbin tenses up as Professor Quirrell unscrews the cap of the flask, waves his wand around it and makes a show of sniffing it.
"F-firewhisky is c-c-contraband, D-dobbin," says Quirrell, before recoiling from the stony expression on Dobbin's face, "S-s-since y-you are of age, I w-will not g-give you d-detention. But I will t-take t-t-ten… no, f-f-five p-points from R-ravenclaw."
Quirrell vanishes the whisky from the flask, before helping Dobbin repack his bag.
"D-dismissed" says Professor Quirrell, and Dobbin heads to Potions – his vial of powdered asphodel replaced by one seemingly identical but far more exciting.
Hermione Granger Socialisation
Raw DCs: 30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 15 (Fellow Bookworm) + 10 (Neville's influence) - 10 (Differing Worldviews) + 10 (Positive Impression) = 10 (-8 to DC, +2 to roll)
True DCs: 22/52/82
Roll: 64 + 2 = 66. Success!
Getting along better, will keep an eye on Neville.
Penny Socialisation
Raw DCs: 30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Tabletop club) = -5 (+4 to DC, +1 to roll)
True DCs: 34/64/94
Roll: 44 - 1 = 43. Bare Success
Tabletop Club in-game performance: 1d100 = 22
Sue Li Socialization
Raw DCs: 30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Same House) + 5 (Study Partner) + 10 (Tabletop club) = 10 (-8 to DC, +2 to roll)
True DCs: 22/52/82
Roll: 56 + 2 = 58. Moderate Success.
Quirrell
Raw DC: 60
Bonuses: -10 (Pomander's effect) - 10 (????????) + 15 (???????) = -5 (+4 to DC, -1 to roll)
True DC: 64
Roll: 87 - 1 = 86. Success!
Something's afoot.
Raw DCs: 30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 15 (Fellow Bookworm) + 10 (Neville's influence) - 10 (Differing Worldviews) + 10 (Positive Impression) = 10 (-8 to DC, +2 to roll)
True DCs: 22/52/82
Roll: 64 + 2 = 66. Success!
Getting along better, will keep an eye on Neville.
Penny Socialisation
Raw DCs: 30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Tabletop club) = -5 (+4 to DC, +1 to roll)
True DCs: 34/64/94
Roll: 44 - 1 = 43. Bare Success
Tabletop Club in-game performance: 1d100 = 22
Sue Li Socialization
Raw DCs: 30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Same House) + 5 (Study Partner) + 10 (Tabletop club) = 10 (-8 to DC, +2 to roll)
True DCs: 22/52/82
Roll: 56 + 2 = 58. Moderate Success.
Quirrell
Raw DC: 60
Bonuses: -10 (Pomander's effect) - 10 (????????) + 15 (???????) = -5 (+4 to DC, -1 to roll)
True DC: 64
Roll: 87 - 1 = 86. Success!
Something's afoot.
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