Chapter 52: Family Reunions
7:50 AM, June 14th, 1992
Professor Filius Flitwick escorted Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to the Ravenclaw dorm rooms. He was no longer tired in the slightest, though his exhaustion might catch up to him once the excitement of all that information, not to mention dodging a Killing Curse, wears off.
He also felt, for one of the rare times in his life as a Ravenclaw, that his curiosity had been completely sated for the time being. In his capacity as the Head of House, however, he had something to address with his two young students.
"Mr. Potter," he said. "Ms. Granger. Is it true that the two of you are old enough to enter your third year at the start of next term?"
Hermione Granger said "Yes," right away.
Harry Potter seemed to take a second to think about it. "I'm not actually sure if our physical bodies are thirteen," he answered in his typical style of critical thinking. "We've definitely lived that long, and more, in our minds. And we're there in magical strength too. Equestria had a magical school we attended for a while, and we maxed out our Spimster Wicket hours each night, so we've grown in knowledge too, even if it doesn't match the Hogwarts curriculum…"
Filius smiled as he listened. Unlike Minerva, he finds Mr. Potter's critical thinking rather refreshing.
Mr. Potter does sometimes digress into unimportant (and occasionally disturbing and alarming) minutia, but that's par for the course in Ravenclaw. Mr. Potter toned down the worst aspects after receiving feedback on what did and did not constitute good Charms work in his first few weeks of lessons.
But Mr. Potter never once toned down his creativity or skepticism. His most recent essay was no less refreshing than the first one he'd written.
Mr. Potter thought about the assignments on his own; he didn't just repeat the lecture in his own words like so many other students, or rely solely on textbook quotes. Mr. Potter would often include anecdotes about his own little test-castings of the Charm, like when he pointed out the Hover Charm can lift things without fully levitating them, then theorized that the spell likely exerts a fixed amount of 'lift' based on the magical or physical strength of the user, or a combination of both. Even Filius had never thought physical strength might play a part.
He had marked Mr. Potter's essay down for the theory, and he only remembered doing so because that was the first and last time Mr. Potter had gone to his office hours and questioned the marking. He was there for the principle of the matter, he said, not because he thought it would affect his final Charms grade.
Mr. Potter had asked Filius if he was utterly certain that physical strength didn't matter at all to the spell. His student freely admitted that it probably didn't affect the Hover Charm, but had anyone ever really tested it?
That was one of the few times Filius had ever unmarked a grade he'd given to a student, though he gave a strict warning that Mr. Potter should stick with what he can prove in the future, and not engage in speculation just to fill out his inches, especially speculation that probably isn't true. Mr. Potter had nodded, said he understood, and heeded the warning in subsequent assignments.
Mr. Potter's essays alone proved he was already blossoming as a competent wizard. And he already knows the Potions Principle as well. It's a shame Professor Monroe, then Professor Quirrell, deemed Mr. Potter too reckless to be permitted into the Restricted Section. Filius might have to ask his fellow Professor if that warning is still in effect.
"Is the age gap going to be a problem?" his student asked, drawing him from his musings and making him realize that he'd been walking in silence for a while.
"It's not going to be a problem with your schoolwork," Filius answered. "If we're covering something you've already learned, I can offer you advanced material so you aren't bored in class. There are always Charms that we don't usually cover in the curriculum that I think students should know."
"Maybe I could help you grade?" offered Hermione. "I've always thought that maybe teachers could use help too, not just students, and I know you spend a lot of time marking essays..."
"Thank you, Ms. Granger," Filius smiled, "but the Board of Governors would not permit it. If you continue to help struggling students in your spare time, that's the greatest help you could give me."
She blushed, bowing her head and looking away with a smile.
"Pretty sure Professor Monroe has a plan to oust the Board of Governors," Mr. Potter said casually as they reached the Ravenclaw tower. "Or at least reform it." Then, in a complete non-sequitur to that wild claim, "Um... professor? Before I forget, can I go down to the Slytherin dorms? Before breakfast starts? It's... mildly important."
"Curfew ends in a few minutes," Filius said after a mental tempus and a mental resolution to not let his curiosity get the best of him this time. "As soon as it does, feel free to go wherever you want. Just make sure to be at breakfast at nine. Attendance is mandatory for all students and teachers this morning. And make sure you're packed before the Leave-Taking Feast tonight."
When Lesath Lestrange woke up that morning, he found that a Slytherin message had been left on his bedstand. When he opened the envelope, he beheld an unusual, non-wizarding letter. He saw a white piece of perfectly cut not-parchment, and words written upon it with a quotes quill.
He read it without delay.
Your request persists. An Occlumency tutor will be in touch. More will be explained after. Burn this.
It was unsigned.
When Lesath went to breakfast that morning, as when he went to bed last night, he did his best to ignore those few who chose to celebrate his mother's death more than they celebrated the final defeat of the Dark Lord.
It was easier to ignore them now, though he had to be extremely careful not to draw attention to himself – a useful habit that he'd already learned from being a common target of tormentors.
He dared to hope that 'his request' referred to his mother. But he also dared not give anyone a reason to have a DMLE Legilimens look him in the eyes. So he kept his head down and prayed that the aurors wouldn't call him in for questioning.
If his Lord was instructing him to learn Occlumency, that means his Lord is going to tell him something that must not be known by others. He will learn what his Lord means to tell him, and he will ignore what everyone else believes until then, just like he ignored what they believed about his mother's breakout.
After her promotion, the new Headmistress of Hogwarts permitted three Hogwarts students to leave the school grounds one day early. (More than three were allowed to make Floo calls to their parents, fearing that they might now be orphans. The Slytherin Head of House Office Floo was very busy that afternoon.)
Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy would be present for the Leave-Taking Feast, but an allowance was made for their temporary departure.
David Monroe accompanied Harry Potter to his home in Oxford.
The new Headmistress, one of the only ones capable of locating Narcissa Malfoy and restoring her memories, accompanied the Malfoys.
Filius Flitwick accompanied Hermione Granger.
For some Azathoth-forsaken reason, their little party of two is riding something called the "Knight Bus" to Oxford, instead of just Apparating to his doorstep like the sensible wizards he thought they were.
"WHY are we on this death trap again?" asked Harry after a particularly close shave with a tree. In a park. This metal monstrosity wasn't even sticking to the paved path, let alone roads. The bus was driving through grass and brush, and nobody was noticing it (not even the nearly-missed pedestrians).
"We are here so you can become familiar with another means of fast, independent travel," said Professor Monroe. "And if you wish to call the bus and driver with a perfect record a 'death trap' – despite not a single accident in the seventy-five years of its existence – that's on you. The other passengers don't seem to mind."
Indeed, the other passengers were behaving as if it was a normal, everyday occurrence. Like the sky being blue, or the sun rising in the morning. To them, it was so unremarkable that it wasn't even worth noticing.
"Okay," Harry lied, since it wasn't okay at all, "but that doesn't explain why we're doing this instead of literally anything else. Isn't it a problem that it's so slow?"
His mentor seemed just as jaded about 'this' as the other wizards on the bus as he answered. "I have enough time for this one trip, and you have time for a few more. Many young muggleborns who wish to interact with the wizarding world during the summer like to use this method, at least until they became old enough to Apparate. Legally."
The emphasis on that last word killed Harry's initial objection of 'I can just Apparate' before he could speak it out loud.
"And other forms of instant travel might be noticed," his mentor added. "Especially by your Legilimency-vulnerable parents."
That killed Harry's unspoken objection that he could do a pony Teleportation.
"It will take some time before I can arrange for the bureaucracy of the Ministry to grant your muggle household a Floo permit. Until then, the bus will do."
"And after then, the Floo will do?" Harry asked, not exactly keen on that alternative either. It was better than the bus, but much less versatile than at-will transportation. "Why not just a recursive portkey?"
"Portkeys are even worse than the Floo in terms of bureaucracy. Any single use of a portkey requires Ministry permission," said the Defense Professor. "And our actions in the near future will push the limits of their tolerance as it is; it's best to give the appearance of compliance in other areas. Until you get a Floo, it will have to be the bus. Unless you intend to take your O.W.L.s and obtain your majority earlier than normal, thus allowing you to earn an Apparation license earlier than normal as well." Hm… that might actually be a good idea. Was that why he was suggesting it? "A terrible inconvenience, I know," the man finished.
"What if someone sees me on the bus and decides to assassinate the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"What of it?" asked the Defense Professor. "You'll live."
"Uh…" Harry said nervously. "Are you-?"
"Yes," said the Defense Professor before Harry could decide if he wanted to say 'serious' or 'joking'. "You shall be disguised and protected."
Harry leaned back in relief. He looked at the zooming scenery outside, his nausea rising again. "I'm still not convinced about the bus. Why can't Hermione pick me up each day with her phoenix?"
"Because she won't always be available, and it's prudent to know how to use the alternatives. If it helps, consider this a lesson in tolerance. Once you are used to the bus, your lesson will be complete and you may comfortably move on to other means of transport."
"Any tips?" Harry asked, long used to asking for hints by this point.
"I suggest bringing a book; distractions help at first."
"Conversations might be better," said Harry. "I've gotten motion sickness from reading books in my dad's muggle car. I'm not sure I want to see what happens here."
"A fair point. So you are asking for a distracting conversation?"
"Yes."
"Would you like to figure out what happened to Atlantis?"
Harry was instantly put on high alert, especially since he hadn't seen or felt any privacy barriers being established, but when he looked around himself and saw that there were only two other passengers – a witch babbling to the empty air beside her and a white-haired wizard who was quite absorbed in an upside-down copy of the Quibbler – he relaxed just a bit.
"Why yes," Harry replied in a conversational tone, as if they weren't discussing anything important. "I very much would like to figure out what happened to Atlantis."
"Then figure it out," said the Defense Professor, his lips quirking upward. "You have all the necessary information available to you, if you remember our previous conversations. I wonder if you can figure it out before we arrive. Or before you graduate."
Peachy, Harry thought, cynically, pessimistically, and sarcastically. But then an angle of attack came to mind. "You know, professor, I think you constrained this problem too much. It's like giving me a three-piece jigsaw puzzle. I barely know anything at all about Atlantis. I don't even know the standard theories you mentioned. I don't even remember how many standard theories you said there were-"
"Eighteen," interrupted the Defense Professor. "The truth is not among them."
Harry nodded. "So, as I was saying, I barely know anything. I know Atlantean blood allows wizards to tap magic, because everyone knows that. I know the story about the Atlanteans who made the Mirror, thanks to you. And I know that Atlantis was severed from Time all at once, also thanks to you. I think I remember you saying that… three days ago on this side, right?"
"Well done for remembering it," said the Defense Professor.
"You once said that the key to puzzles can be a hint you heard only once, and that seemed like an important thing to remember."
The Defense Professor nodded.
"Anyway, that's all I know about Atlantis," said Harry. "You know that's all I know, so the answer must be solvable from those three facts, right?"
The Defense Professor continued grinning, but said nothing. He did not nod or comment on the question. Was he maintaining the difficulty of the test by not giving any new information away?
Well, it didn't matter, because saying two of those facts out loud gave Harry's brain another idea to pursue.
"And gee, which one of those things can cut things and their consequences from Time? And would you look at that, it's also the only thing that survived the downfall of Atlantis. What a coincidence! So my guess is that the Mirror's process was used on the city of Atlantis. The city was trapped outside of Time just like we were. Actually, just like Dumbledore was, I guess. Not like us, because it sent us to Equestria."
"How would you reflect the whole city?" asked the Defense professor neutrally.
"Easy. Just put the mirror high enough. You said the Mirror has power over that which it reflects, and the realms it invokes are only as big as what's in the reflection, but the mirror could reflect the whole Earth if someone wanted it to, so that's not the biggest constraint in the world."
"Indeed," said the Defense Professor. "Then to summarise, your guess is that an Atlantean moved the mirror high above Atlantis, used the Process of the Timeless, and that is how the city was erased from Time in a single night?"
Harry nodded. "If it's true, that would be why the Mirror survived Atlantis's downfall, not because it's a perfectly stable existence that reflects itself. Or… not just because of that, anyway. And since some Atlanteans would've been outside the city at the time, that's how the blood lives on out here."
"What would have been the trapper's motive for doing so? A Dark Lord bent on the destruction of their society?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Atlantis invented some kind of horrible monster, and it could only be stopped by the Mirror – whose creators sounded like good, competent, intelligent people based on your story. Or maybe they were trapping themselves Cryogenically because there was an outbreak of some kind of magical disease, and they're waiting for a more advanced magical society to eventually come along and fix the problem. Maybe the Mirror's creators trapped Atlantis with the consent of the other Atlanteans, and the ones who didn't consent, or the ones who weren't infected by the disease or whatever, those are the wizards who lived on out here to keep the blood alive."
"How confident are you in that part of the theory?"
"Not very. There are a million different ways it could have gone. I'm just spitballing on some of the positive reasons why it might have happened. You're right, it could have been an evil Dark Lord. It probably was, since that's the simplest and easiest explanation. But yeah, no way to know for certain. I'm more confident in the base theory, the one you wanted me to deduce."
The Defense Professor raised a single eyebrow. "Would you like to add anything before I grade your deduction?"
Harry's own brows furrowed. He didn't have an immediate answer to that one.
"You are allowed to use last year's experiences to inform your guesswork," Riddle hinted.
And just like that, it was obvious.
"Equestria is Atlantis?" Harry whispered.
"There's a reason their history only goes back a few thousand years," the Defense Professor confirmed. "Although I think it is more like the entire planet Equus is Atlantis, and all Equinoids are descended from the Atlanteans, no matter the species. And I suspect that Atlantis was a country, not a city, with the Saharan Desert currently occupying where it used to be, though that's just a guess. Or perhaps… now that you've mentioned that all of Earth could have been reflected, perhaps the Atlanteans simply created the planet Equus by reflecting all of Earth, invoking a new realm within the Mirror. Then those who wanted to immigrate to their new planet entered the Mirror, and those who didn't stayed behind. In any case, I don't believe the Process of the Timeless was used. I believe that their history was playing out in real Time until the moment we were also trapped, at which point the Mirror independently inflicted Timelessness on Earth, or rather, on our whole universe, causing Atlantean Time within the Mirror to be the only 'real' Time that was progressing."
"But it wasn't reflecting Earth when it trapped us," Harry pointed out. "Let alone our entire universe."
The Defense Professor chuckled. "As you once said, it might be able to remember anything it has reflected in the past, and if the Atlanteans could go to space to have the Mirror reflect all of Earth, it would have been easy enough to allow it to reflect the surrounding universe as well. Then again, the level of power required to freeze the entire universe seems a bit absurd, so it probably happened slightly differently, but the general theory fits our experiences and the Mirror's circumstances. In any case, well done, Mr. Potter. Your deduction deserved an O minus, but not quite an O. You did need a single hint, but you made the connection far faster than I did."
"We both know that's only thanks to you," said Harry. "It's just like the broomstick bones, and the Philosopher's Stone actually being the Stone of Permanence. There's something to be said about the power of being told that an answer exists, and that the evidence isn't a lie. Especially when the person who presents the problem knows for a fact that you have all the necessary pieces to solve it. Coming up with something the second time is a lot easier than coming up with it first, especially when you're being guided by the person who came up with it first."
The Defense Professor nodded. "Your self-criticism serves you well. If you had given in to the flattery, your grade would have been deducted, but I'd say your resistance counts as extra credit. You now have the full Outstanding grade."
Harry leaned back in his seat, absorbing what he'd just learned. "So that's why ponies and humans are so mentally similar," he said, summarizing his initial thoughts.
"Indeed."
"And the herd mentality difference?"
Riddle shook his head once. "A false assumption on your part. You saw genuine parental affection. You saw adults treating young ponies and fellow adults with respect and care. You explained it by inserting a term related to equinoid creatures, but unrelated to the evidence you were seeing. You also ignored the counter-evidence. You should have noticed that Equestrian ponies are mostly monogamous, a trait that true herd creatures do not have, but you came to the 'herd' conclusion anyway. You made the same mistake as the unicorns who inserted the terms 'lift' and 'thrust' and 'drag' into pegasus magic books to make themselves feel smart at the expense of true understanding. That deserves a scientific grade of Troll minus and you know it."
Harry could feel his cheeks flaming scarlet. "Then what is the true understanding?" he asked. "Can I figure this out on my own?"
"Not with the information available to you," the Defense Professor allowed. "Celestia eliminated foalhood abuse and neglect over the course of a thousand years. The mental differences you witnessed were the natural end result of a society in which those problems do not exist. The only major problem, as far as behavioural patterns are concerned, was that some parents treated their children too well to the point of spoiling. A human society could easily become like Equestria under those circumstances. It had nothing to do with ponies being herd creatures."
"Got it," said Harry. "Next question:" he said, because he already had an important objection to the Equinoids = Atlanteans theory, "How did they speak English? Or, how did we speak Equish? Mirror magic?"
"Of a sort," said Riddle. "The answer is that they weren't speaking English and we weren't speaking Equish. Equinoid creatures have the Gift of Comprehension. And since it applies to all Equinoids, all trapped Atlanteans, including the non-ponies from all the other nations on Equus, the Equinoids themselves didn't even know they had it until I finally figured it out. Much of their information about the past has either been lost, forgotten, or scrubbed for good reason."
"Um…" said Harry. "Could you go into a bit more detail about that ability?" he asked, having trouble with the answer.
Not with understanding it, since the 'Gift of Comprehension' is an ability with a fairly straightforward name, which his mentor had further explained. But…
The man chuckled. "Equinoids can comprehend any intelligible language without even noticing that it's different from their native one. Until, of course, they are told about their gift. Once they do know and try to pay attention to a different language while knowing for a fact that it's a different language, their brain becomes capable of turning the skill off. Like the common story of the first man finally realizing he is naked, or the Emperor realizing he has no clothes. The same is true for us. While in our forms, all languages will seem to us like accented English, much like that other language only the two of us can speak. It's not that either us or the ponies were speaking each other's languages. It's that we were understanding their Atlantean, and they were understanding our English."
Harry blinked many times throughout that explanation, his suspension of disbelief successfully broken. What about the written language? was just one of the many mental objections his brain was giving, along with things like calendar system and references to earth and same mathematical formulae and DEUS EX MACHINA and TOWER OF BABEL ILLOGICAL! DANGER! ALIENS INVADING MY BRAIN!
"That seems impossible even by magical standards," Harry remarked in a calm voice and placid demeanor that was only possible thanks to his Perfect Occlumency.
"I agree," his mentor nodded. "The gift of tongues has long been a fictional fantasy to wizards. But the same could be said about alternate universes and wish-granting machines." His mentor shrugged. "The Atlanteans were advanced. You already saw the Words of False Comprehension, which an interdict of Merlin prevented us from understanding, but which we could still read thanks to an Atlantean spell."
Oh, right. Professor Monroe had said that this morning in the Headmistress's office. Now that Harry was focusing on it… "I didn't think the Interdict worked that way."
"Indeed it doesn't," said the Defense Professor. "It was retroactively forced to work that way because the words were written before Merlin, with power on par with his Interdict. Merlin personally added an obfuscation spell to the Words – an interdiction by Merlin, not the Interdict. He did use the Mirror as a tool, after all. In any case, I've come to the perspective that the original Atlanteans did not fail to make their wish-granting machine after all. I suspect that the Mirror's creators deliberately trapped themselves in their own device, wishing perhaps for a better society. They gave themselves and their brethren the Gift of Comprehension so that they could more easily re-integrate with the wider world when the Time came, and they put the Words of Comprehension on the back of the Mirror so that Time would someday come. It also explains how we were turned into ponies, if that setting of the mirror was used on us, and it further explains how we so easily became human-magi. I suspect that's what the creators intended for their descendants to eventually do. Then again, I could easily be wrong. Perhaps my mind has been irreversibly biased by my initial guess that one of the Mirror's creators allowed their five-year-old daughter to influence the Mirror's design. Remember that much of this is speculation and theory. By the way, we'll be there in a few seconds. Are you used to the Knight Bus now?"
Harry blinked, becoming aware of the chaotic driving once more. He was also beginning to recognize some of the streets of his childhood as they flew by. He somehow found himself less bothered than he'd been before. The driver still hadn't hit anyone, no matter how close it always seemed, and if he really has been doing this for seventy-five years without a single accident…
"Yeah, I guess I am."
The other two Hogwarts students who left the school grounds didn't have much in the way of scholarly conversations, but they certainly didn't lack for emotionality.
"Is Lucius Malfoy there?" asked Minerva McGonagall into the Floo.
"I'll sees if Master Malfoy is accepting your Floo call, Professy McGony-gull," said the house elf who answered.
After a brief delay, the face of Lucius Malfoy appeared in the Floo. "Headmistress McGonagall," said his cultured voice. "I am rather busy this morning. I trust this is important?"
"Extremely," she confirmed with a slight nod. "There is a… matter… that Albus instructed me to handle in the event of…"
"When we get outside the wards, just hold my hand and I'll take us there," squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Apparation can be a bit disorienting your first few times, so please prepare yourself."
"Can I take us there instead?" asked Hermione after a long look at the thestrals drawing the carriages. She had nothing against the skeletal creatures, or against Apparation. She just wanted to finally start doing things on her own.
The eyes of her Head of House widened slightly, looking to the phoenix on her shoulder, then back to her. "Oh. Well, I suppose there's no harm in it. Just make sure to take us outside your house so I can ring the doorbell."
Hermione smiled. "I guess we don't want to surprise them in a bad way, do we?"
"Exactly. Take my hand, and we can go whenever you're ready…"
"Are you ready for this?" his Defense Professor, mentor, creator, and friend asked him.
"I'm not ready for Dad treating me like a child." Harry took a deep breath. "But other than that, yes."
The man stepped forward, pressed the doorbell, and stepped back.
No voices replied, but footsteps could be heard. The door opened, revealing... wide eyes... a gaping mouth...
"Harry?"
He was already crying. "Hi mum. I'm home."
A full year. He was finally home to Earth after a full year. And he was finally home home after an additional six months. Plus Time-Turned hours.
"Lucius?" asked the tall, blond woman.
"Yes, my love." He was already hugging her, pulling Draco in a second later.
Dr. Roberta Granger had read about it from the Daily Prophet that morning.
DARK LORD AND DEATH EATERS FINALLY DEAD!
Defeated by Boy-Who-Lived, Girl-Who-Died, David Monroe at Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch!
Roberta had read the paper – their daughter had subscribed them to it just before she died – then she instantly began wondering how to go about contacting the magical world to get her daughter back. Unfortunately, the owl who delivered the paper was owned by the Daily Prophet and did not accept return letters, and they didn't have a magical owl of their own.
'Muggles' are not allowed to own owls, not even the parents of 'muggleborns'. Back when they had first visited Diagon Alley, they had not wanted to risk angering the wizards by claiming their daughter was going to own the owl, not them. It's entirely possible the wizards running the shop would have refused to sell to them, even with their daughter present.
If Dr. Roberta Granger could be given the choice to go back in time and make a different decision, to insist on buying an owl in her daughter's name, she would have done so in an instant. Instead, her family's future was at the mercy and whims of the wizards.
Thankfully, it wasn't long after she read the paper that the doorbell rang, revealing a Hogwarts Professor and...
In the Verres-Evans household, the emotional reunion between parents and child quickly gave way to something much less honest: motivated reasoning disguised as rational arguments.
Harry's father, Professor Michael Verres-Evans, did not want Harry to go back to the wizarding world. Harry's mother, Petunia Evans-Verres, did not want Harry to go back to the wizarding world. Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres himself did want to go back.
Tom Riddle, who watched the whole affair, knew that Harry must go back. But he also knew how parents could be. He wasn't the best at this sort of thing, but…
"Professor Verres-Evans," he said into a lull in the argument that wasn't going anywhere. "I understand your desire to keep him from harm, but the danger has passed. Speaking as the world's most powerful wizard, learned of science and magic both, I assure you that your son will be safe in the wizarding world."
The muggle Professor regarded the adult wizard skeptically. "The crazy headmaster said the same thing. Was he right?"
"I suppose not," the man who used to be Voldemort sighed. "But he was crazy, as you said. My power does not come with that downside, and I can protect your son better than he did."
"I thought the headmaster of your school was the most powerful," said the man of reasonably high intelligence.
"Dumbledore and Voldemort were trapped and vanquished last night, respectively," said Tom Riddle, who currently wore the guise of David Monroe. "Which is why I am saying the danger has passed. And even if it hadn't, many referred to me as the next Dumbledore in the seventies. Unless there's some powerful and unknown recluse out there who trumps me, I'm fairly confident I'm the most powerful wizard on Earth at the moment."
"What if Perenelle had her magic?" asked Mr. Potter.
"Perhaps," said Riddle. "But she does not." He turned to regard the professor once more. "Speaking as a talented wizard myself, if your son left the wizarding world now, we would be deprived of his extraordinary abilities. He has impressed me multiple times, in ways that no adult wizard has ever managed. He is like our Einstein, or perhaps our Aristotle, and I doubt you would wish for either of those two to have been taken from the muggle world before they could make their contributions."
"Sir, I'm sorry but that's ridiculous. He's only eleven."
"Which only makes it more impressive."
"Look," said the Professor, "I know your people see him as a messiah, but he's just a boy. You can't put all this responsibility on him. The Boy-Who-Lived thing was probably an accident anyway. He was one year old! If anything the Dark Lord probably vanquished himself that night, somehow."
Tom Riddle gave a rare, true laugh at that. "You don't know how right you are. But I wasn't talking about the Boy-Who-Lived business at all. The wizarding world will soon have access to a Fountain of Youth equivalent, and once the Statute of Secrecy breaks down, it will be extended to muggles. In other words, all of humanity will soon have access to eternal youth. Without your son, that wouldn't have been possible. And that's merely the most objectively good thing he's helped to accomplish – it's nowhere near the most impressive. Dumbledore and I were there for his first major magical discovery. We had to stun the watching aurors and wipe their memories because of how significant it was. Think of it like him discovering Nuclear Fission on his own. And again, that was only his first discovery; he has made more since-"
"It was my second, actually," Mr. Potter interrupted. "You weren't there for my first."
"Oh?" he asked. "What was your first?"
They met gazes, and with Legilimency, Mr. Potter told him about Partial Transfiguration. Tom barely had the sense of mind to tell Mr. Potter to pretend to whisper it into his ear, though of course he shouldn't actually say it aloud.
Tom put on a look of surprise after this was done, then said, "That's possible?"
"When you understand that the world is made up of atoms and molecules," said Harry, no longer whispering, "and you've read enough physics textbooks to understand how to use that information, yes, it's possible. But it's not exactly safe. I'm thinking we should do something about that."
"Ms. Sparkle might be able to help," he said absently as he once again focused on Professor Verres-Evans, who was staring at them in clear disbelief. "I apologize, Mr. Potter. I don't think this has helped. I'm afraid that placating the fears of other parents is not my area of expertise…"
Minerva's expression was tight at the young boy's accusation. "I don't know." She had smiled and held back her own tears earlier, but now her mind was wrenched back to war and strategy. "Albus's orders were to return your mother and restore her memories as soon as Voldemort was vanquished. If he did intend to blackmail House Malfoy, he did not tell me about it."
"Let us save that discussion for Malfoy Manor, my son." Lucius Malfoy said, then faced Minerva fully, formally, and only slightly stiffly. "You have my thanks, Headmistress. I shall ensure my son understands you were a pawn following orders, not to be blamed for Dumbledore's machinations, whatever they might have been. I request you depart our company now."
His two bodyguards made it clear that it was not a request, and made sure she complied.
"But I-"
"No buts!" Dr. and Dr. Granger said sternly.
"You're done learning magic," Leo added, "and that's final!"
"But Dad!" she begged. "That's not fair!"
"That's final, Hermione!"
Their daughter burst into tears, then vanished in a flash of flames. Their eyes darted to Professor Flitwick, who looked surprised.
"Bring. Her. Back," demanded Leo.
The short, bearded man held out his hands, which were both empty. He had a helpless look about him. "She has a phoenix now," he squeaked. "She can go wherever she pleases. I didn't-"
"BRING HER BACK!" Leo shouted, raising a fist, then freezing in place. Literally freezing. He could feel his entire body lock up.
"I'M STILL HERE‼" shouted a voice from upstairs.
Feet stomped across the ceiling of the room, then down the stairs on the other side of the house, though it was hard to hear over the soothing avian song that suffused the air.
"I just needed a minute to compose myself," Hermione said in a clipped voice. "One minute, dad-" her voice cut off. Leo, still paralyzed, could not turn to see her. "Professor Flitwick," she said, politely and calmly. "I'm sorry my Dad got angry with you. Please unfreeze him."
The Hogwarts Professor nodded, and Leo felt himself unlock.
"H-Herm," he said, but his mind was too distracted by the song to think of anything else to say.
"Dad, Mum, I love you both," said their daughter, her words accompanied by a song that made them sound so much more meaningful than they already were. "I won't die again, and I'll never leave you forever, but I will come and go like a good daughter should. And I'm sorry, but you can't stop me, because I have a familiar now, and a phoenix is like a magical car."
The avian song missed a beat, then continued as if it hadn't stopped.
"Sorry, Xare," said Hermione, petting the red bird's head with her finger. "You know I didn't mean it like that." Then she looked back to Leo and Roberta. "The Dark Lord who killed me is dead, and magic brought me back, so I'm going back to the magical world to learn more. I'm going back to Hogwarts tonight to say goodbye to my friends for the summer, and then I'm coming home tomorrow on the Hogwarts Express, and then I'm staying the summer, though I might meet up with my magical friends for a few outings, and I might have a few things to do in Diagon Alley, and then when summer ends I'm going back to Hogwarts next year. I have friends now, and you didn't raise me to be the kind of girl who abandons her friends. Please don't try to make me."
If not for the bird's song, Leo might have forced the issue. If not for the bird's song, he might have let his fear make him a dictator, rather than a Dad. If not for the bird's song, he would have tuned out those last lines.
"Oh, Herm," he said softly, leaning down to hug her. "I... I'm sorry... I just... I don't want to lose you again."
"I know," said his daughter as she hugged him back with surprisingly strong grip. "Now," she smiled, putting her hands on his shoulders. "I've got to get back to Hogwarts. I heard there's going to be one last Defense class before summer. I'm the witch in the family. That means it's my job to protect you. Okay?"
Not two seconds later, the Granger landline began to ring…
"Occlumency?" repeated Professor Michael Verres-Evans.
"Yes," said Harry. "I'd like to tell you everything, Dad. I really, really would. But I can't. Not unless you can protect your mind. And I'm not even sure if you can protect it. You're not a wizard. But I'm not positive that Occlumency involves actual magic, it feels like more of a mental trick than anything. It might not be possible, but if you want to get involved, and I'd like for you to be involved too, we're going to have to try. Are you up to that?"
Professor Michael Verres-Evans didn't like that he had to negotiate about this. He just wanted his son back, but he had no legal say. It seemed like that part of the equation wasn't going to change any time soon. So…
"Would I qualify as a wizard if I learned it?" he asked.
The professor who'd brought Harry gave a single surprised snorting chuckle. "I'm afraid not," he said sympathetically. "This is just so you can stay in the loop… and perhaps… well, it might be useful to future muggle-wizard relations. I agree that the wizarding rules on muggleborn parent guardianship are unfair. Would you prefer it if Mr. Potter got out from under our thumb himself by attaining his majority?"
"Majority? You mean he can become a legal adult at eleven?"
"So long as he passes his O.W.L.s," said the professor, "and his legal guardian does not object."
"Wizarding society really is insane."
"Professor Monroe," said Harry, "I don't think this is helping. Let's just focus on Occlumency. Are you willing to learn, Dad? It's the only way I can confide in you again."
"The only way?" Michael repeated. "You can't just say whatever you need to right here and now?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't. When Mum asked how bad the trip to Diagon Alley went, I couldn't talk about it for reasons of national security. That's why I related it to the Science Fair and I didn't go into detail, and that was just day one. It's the same thing now, plus an order or two of magnitude. If you can't protect your thoughts, I can't tell you about anything important. But if you can, I promise I'll tell you about all the important stuff I'm doing behind the scenes, and you can have a say about it."
What he wanted to say was that he shouldn't have to do this just to offer reasonable advice to his own son. What he actually said - reluctantly, unpleasantly, but also inevitably – was…
"If it's the only way… I'll do it."
It's not like he had any other options if he wanted to stay close to his son.
"Professor Monroe," said Harry, looking at his father with a strange expression, "can you leave us alone for a bit?"
The man nodded, then disappeared.
"And not eavesdrop?" Harry added, now looking to where the man had been.
There was a brief pause, then a crack sound.
"You too, Mum?" asked Harry. "I'd like to have a talk with Dad, just between scientists." He went over to whisper in her ear. "You know the score with wizards. Getting Dad on board is really important."
She pressed her lips tightly, but nodded.
When she was gone to the other room, Harry looked at Professor Michael Verres-Evans, who looked back steadily.
"Now that we're alone," Michael said, "are you going to tell me your plan to stop all this madness?"
"We're probably not alone. Professor Monroe is probably still eavesdropping."
Michael looked around himself, but saw nothing. Then again, he saw nothing earlier… "So… uh… I was just kidding, of course."
Harry sighed. "Dad, I know you don't like me going back to the wizarding world."
Understatement of the year.
"But…" Harry said, then disappeared in a crack, startling the professor almost as much as the subsequent tap on his back left shoulder. "…I can teleport now," said Harry as Michael spun to face him, "and I want to go back to Hogwarts, so… yeah. I’m going to do my part in the common endeavour, even if I'm only… eleven."
"Harry…" said the science Professor, but nothing more came to mind.
"There's a lot wrong with Magical Britain," his son continued, "and I need to be there to make it less wrong. I've already made it less wrong, and I'm going to keep making it better until I'm not needed anymore, at which point we'll hopefully be colonizing the stars. You can't stop me from saving the world, no matter how much you love me."
"Harry…" said Michael, then stopped. He kneeled down and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Harry," he said firmly. "It's not your responsibility to save the world. It's your responsibility to learn at school, and get good grades, and stay safe. You can save the world when you're an adult."
But Harry shook his head. "Dad, we're talking about the whole human species here. I am literally immortal right now. I am being one-hundred percent, completely honest and straightforward. You could kill me, I could bleed out, and I wouldn't die. And no, it's not black magic that made me sell my soul or something. When I'm done, everyone will have that, and hopefully we'll be able to bring the dead back too. The longer it takes, the more children have to say goodbye to their parents at the graveyard, and the more f-friends have to say goodbye to their other friends in the infirmary."
"Harry.." Michael said again. He just didn't know if he could take this seriously. "The dead just… can't be…"
His son was shaking his head again, and this time he was smiling. "The world doesn't know I'm the one who did it, Dad, but I did it. I brought her back. She's meeting with her own parents right now. You can call them on the phone if you don't believe me."
Having finally been given something he could test, he called the Grangers right away.
"Just don't mention I'm the one who did it," Harry warned as the phone rang. "She knows, but it can't get out, okay?"
Michael nodded absently.
"Hello?" came a female voice – Dr. Roberta Granger's, he recognized. "Who is this?"
"This is Professor Michael Verres-Evans," he said into the phone. "I'm Harry's father. I'm calling because… well… he just told me the strangest thing, and I'm not sure if I should believe it…"
What followed was the emotional breakdown of a mother who seemed to have just understood that her daughter was alive again. Not in the sense that he was telling her the news; she'd apparently just had a long conversation with her daughter, who got on the phone to say hi to him and prove that it wasn't all some elaborate hoax. The verified news was as uplifting as it was impossible. When he eventually said "Same here. Thank you," and hung up the phone, he turned back to Harry…
Harry was smiling from ear to ear, as proud as if he'd just scored first on an international math competition. "And it wasn't a one-time thing," he said. "I can keep doing that for other people."
The Professor blinked a few times. He was finally, finally beginning to understand why his son was so insistent. It wasn't fascination/curiosity with magic, it wasn't black magic or political power-seeking, and it wasn't some kind of mind control. It wasn't even about defeating the possibly-not-dead Dark Lord anymore.
It really is his son, his son is really telling the truth, and his son is really, truly speeding up the common endeavour to a point that would have taken decades, centuries, or maybe even millennia without the help of magic.
For only the second time in his life (the first was when he'd been scared out of his wits by the incident with the Science Fair), he kneeled down, took his son in his arms, and gave him a big hug.
Harry hugged him back, feeling very alive and disturbingly strong.
"So…" Harry said when the hug was done, still smiling, this time with a hopeful glint in his eye. "Will you give Occlumency a try for real? Not just because you feel like you have to?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation.
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The death problem is mainly due to people not liking haveing to think of the things that four dimentional includes time, space is BIG, and Muggles throw around totally insane amounts of matter, energy and information using little more than fire, water and lightning?
It is really true about telling someone that there is an answer already can help solve a riddle, just when Monroe asked Harry to figure it out what happend to atlantis, it was quickly obvious that Equestria WAS atlantis, I couldn't make the connection before but only WHEN he brought it up XD.
I think you did a good job at making the Reunions believable. Especially love Harry's Dad's reaction to learning his son can resurrect the dead. How would a man of science react to learning his son is basically a god lol
wow just wow to say this chapter is amazing is not doing it right.
I mean, real immortality would be one hell of a motivator.
11314420
Yeah, having super-incredible-OC-self-insert do all the things was never the point of this story. MC isn't even MY version of Harry, so he's not even an OC, I've got to write him as best as I can imagine the original character from HPMoR would act in these scenarios.
So... Atlanteans are basically ancient bronies?
The Mirror reflecting the Earth and not much beyond it could explain the need for creating artificial, controllable imitations of celestial bodies.
Personally, I've always interpreted Atlantis being erased from Time in a more dramatic manner, as being cut off from the causal flow of entire history, preceeding and following. Atlantis was made to have never had been. That might sound more interesting - to me, anyway, - but obviously that's just one interpretation that doesn't follow necessarily.
I think "which is mentor" is supposed to be "which his mentor."
The pursuit of a utopia should be infinite, but with Harry I don't know if it will
This reminds me of the story of the game:
Hostile Waters
Disease free immortality, with humanity having started to travel outside Earth.
Only scientific reached immortality with technology, with maschines that are individually not bigger than a few atoms.
Nanotechnology.
"I am become Life, Destroyer of Bereavement"