Chapter 61: Worlds Collide
"The holding cell, well to the center of Magical Law Enforcement, was luxuriously appointed; more a remark on what adult wizards took for granted, than any special feeling toward prisoners. There was a self-reclining, self-rocking chair with plush, richly textured, self-warming cushions. There was a bookcase containing random books rescued from a bargain bin, and a full shelf of ancient magazines, including one from 1883. As for toiletries, well, it wasn't exactly luxurious, but there was a spell on the room which put all that business on hold."
-HPMoR, Chapter 84
July 24th, 1992, 10:00 AM
Many witches and wizards would be surprised at just how much can get done with Ministry bureaucrats at beck and call.
They're cowards generally speaking; they never even dreamed of standing up to the Dark Lord themselves, and they sneered at those who did. But they still wanted him gone, especially after his murder-spree in the Ministry over a decade ago. Even paper-pushers aren't immune to feelings of gratitude. Or, more accurately, they aren't immune to a whole country's worth of peer pressure and hero worship.
In a mere three days, and despite the muggle locations, magical fireplaces with security wards often affordable only by noble houses were authorized and installed in the homes of the Boy-Who-Lived and the Girl-Who-Died. No more Knight Bus for any member of either family, as muggles too can use the Floo.
Professor Michael Verres-Evans, who had opted out of teaching summer courses at Oxford this year (he had been under a great deal of mental stress when he made that decision in April), went to Occlumency lessons at Diagon Alley.
Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, on the other hand/hoof, suffered/enjoyed daily trips to Circus. Mock battles every morning and private tutoring every other evening really improved his immediate battle prowess. He felt like a whole new wizard with what he could now wield, and it had little to do with his personal Elder Wand. A whole month and a half of effort is (hopefully) about to pay off in humanity's official debut to Equestria.
Tomorrow.
Today, however, is the day many young witches and wizards of Magical Britain will be going to the movies. The theatre had been fully bought out, but even still, no chances were being taken. The constant notice-me-not charms should cause even the theatre staff to overlook the more oddly-clothed individuals.
The girls would be watching various Disney films. The boys would be watching Star Wars. The adult chaperones were allowed to choose between the two films, but for the most part they just watched whatever film their own child was watching.
And perhaps most importantly of all, the bowel-halting spell would prevent a constant stream of children leaving for the bathroom.
(Initially proposed for this outing alone by David Monroe, who was confident in his ability to use it safely, the idea would later spread to less competent individuals in magical theatre companies and become standard industry practice, at least until a few cases of bowel rupture and other unsavory conditions caused St. Mungo's to issue a public warning about the charm, at which point the Ministry would get involved and regulate its use, even in their own facilities, like the auror detention cells.)
July 24th, 1992, 11:30 AM
The first intermission for the witches was filled with giddy happiness and bright emotions. The general consensus about Cinderella, by almost every witch who saw it, was "Strange and silly, but amazing!"
One Ravenclaw sixth-year witch, who was well-cultured in wizarding society and whose opinions on play productions was widely recognized as spot-on, declared that 'Cinderella' was better than all the best moving picture books put together. The art direction was better. There was incredible voice work and voice variety (moving books only have a single narrator, or at most two). The melodies were wonderful, if a bit odd sometimes. But the story, oh was it gripping. And it was completely different from a play. The only thing that she personally found a bit too goofy was the "Bippity Boppity Boo" scene/song.
But Hermione had been careful to warn everyone about that in advance. It was made by muggles, after all. If the magic was accurate, someone somewhere had broken the Statute.
One girl Hermione didn't recognize – meaning she was not a Hogwarts student, but probably would be next year (some younger siblings had been invited to this outing) – asked how Cinderella could have been made without magic.
Hermione reached into her magical pouch and supplied a flip-book, quickly duplicated by a chaperone for ease of distribution, to demonstrate the basics. The copies would turn to ash and nothingness in a few minutes, but they only needed that long.
Hermione instructed how to flip through the book quickly, with the spine held firmly in one hand and a thumb moving along the edge of the pages.
Everyone quickly discovered how you could make a series of motionless images look like they're moving.
Hermione explained that this is how muggles do moving pictures. They use special cameras to take a bunch of not-moving pictures very quickly and then string them together so fast that they look like they're moving.
But that's normal movies.
Animation, the kind of movie they just watched, is really difficult to make because each 'photo' has to be hand-drawn, like this flipbook. The thing in her hands took months for somebody to make, and it was only a hundred pages or so. Hermione guessed that Cinderella probably went through at least 30 pages each second, so it took a lot of work from a lot of artists. That's what the big list at the end was for – giving credit to all the contributors. It took many years to make, and hundreds of people working full-time day-jobs. And not all of them were artists. Some helped with sound, some helped with the story, others helped with the muggle artifacts involved, and others just helped with keeping everything organized. Disney is a fairly big company, even by muggle standards.
The girls who understood this explanation were gob smacked that muggles could do all that. The Hufflepuffs were downright shocked by all the unseen hard work and people involved. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws who had been thinking to themselves that maybe one day they'll make a 'movie' of their own were quietly rethinking their idea. The Slytherins didn't seem to know what to think.
When they'd all gone to the bathroom and the intermission was almost done, many witches, starting with Penelope Clearwater, made it a point to thank Hermione for the recommendation. The girl who asked how movies work without magic also asked what they were watching next.
"The Beauty and the Beast," said Hermione.
Some of the muggleborn girls, especially those who had heard about it but not yet seen it, gave high-pitched squeals.
July 24th, 1992, 12:15 PM
When the boys had their own intermission, the general consensus about Star Wars was that the effects weren't impressive compared to magic.
Those who were already fans of the films tried to explain that it was jaw-dropping when it came out, and movies are getting better all the time.
Draco Malfoy said to just wait until they see a play with half-decent illusionists. Although the wizardborn children (especially fans and members of the Chaos Legion) did admit that the music was top-notch, and the plot was interesting, and the villain was menacing, and they'd never seen anything on that scale before.
Cedric Diggory asked if it was pure fiction, or if muggles really could travel to different planets.
"Not quite yet," said Harry Potter. "And not to other suns. They've only managed to get a device farther than Neptune, not people. But muggles have stood on the moon."
"No," said either Fred or George Weasley. "That's not right."
"Dad said they almost set fire to the moon," said either George or Fred.
Many Slytherins rolled their eyes. Someone audibly said, "Yeah, right."
"Dad's Department Head for Misuse of Muggle Artifacts," said twin one a bit importantly.
"He's a muggle expert," said twin two. "He might not know everything about muggles, but he knows the big stuff."
Draco Malfoy, who apparently couldn't take it anymore, casually asked Harry Potter how much it had cost the muggles to get to the moon. He'd forgotten the exact number.
Harry Potter recited a few figures, first in American dollars – the primary currency used for the project – then in British pounds, and then finally converting it to Galleons.
This caused some to maybe wonder if it was true, though most disbelieved even more.
David Monroe, who was less like a chaperone and more like the outing's benevolent sponsor/overseer, took that moment to intervene. He said that the two most powerful muggle countries – the United States of America and the Soviet Union – had been bitter rivals until very recently. They were engaged in what was called a 'cold' war, instead of the standard 'hot' sort of war. They fought by proxy, not directly, for any true attack on the other would have spelled the complete annihilation of both, and the generals of both sides knew that. The civilians of both sides knew that.
Their most public means of fighting, therefore, was one-upping each other's artifacts as a show of strength and pride, and the artifacts were often astronomical in nature. Many called it the 'Space Race': the race to outer space. The Russian muggles put the first object into orbit, circling the planet like the moon before coming back down to earth, doing so before the American muggles could manage the feat, so in response the Americans put the first permanent satellite into orbit, one that still circles the planet to this day and will not come down for centuries. The Russians had been the first to put a man into orbit, so in response the Americans put the first man on the moon.
This happened around twenty-five years ago, and it did indeed cost at least what Mr. Potter quoted, not to mention the man hours and cutting edge developments. As a result, muggles with Ravenclaw tendencies have been especially enamoured by outer space in recent decades, and that fascination inspired the setting for Star Wars.
Monroe then told the Weasley Twins that, while their father is certainly enthusiastic about muggle artifacts, he is hilariously incompetent. The mistakes Arthur Weasley makes would be funny if they weren't so lamentable. Lady Malfoy, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, and just about any muggle-raised witch or wizard who's ever lived would be better at his job. Monroe pointed to the gaudy clothes of the Weasley Twins as proof, saying that their attire alone should be considered a misuse of muggle artifacts. Without a notice-me-not charm, they would never fool a real muggle.
The Slytherin purebloods in attendance, surprisingly enough, could have gotten away with some derisive laughter. Most had the advantage of their mothers being good acquaintances with Lady Malfoy, who has acquired a reputation for not just excellent fashion sense, but for passing muggle fashion sense as well. She's now known in certain high-society circles for her talent of selecting muggle outfits that still appeal to wizard sensibilities.
So the Slytherins were (almost) all appropriately and fashionably dressed for the muggle world. Unlike the Weasleys.
But despite the easy targets for mockery, the Slytherins were not snickering. Now that the muggle moon myth had been confirmed by David Monroe – along with the relevant, believable, and downright scary political context to go with it – many faces showed the same look of fear and awe as Draco when he first learned.
And then David Monroe announced that he was about to undo the bowel-halting spell, and there were suddenly more pressing concerns, like seeing out how muggle bathrooms compare to wizard ones. The stalls were less than perfectly clean, the air was stale and unpleasant, and the toilet paper left a bit to be desired. But the urinals, at least, were found to be highly convenient; those weren't in the wizarding world. Yet.
When the bathroom rush ended, the 'intermission' came to a close. Wizards are used to plays that last upwards of five hours; a trip to the theatre was often a full-day outing, and today would be no different. The entire Star Wars trilogy was on the schedule.
July 24th, 1992, 12:20 PM
In the distant past, there were many professors involved in the creation and delivery of all Hogwarts invitation letters. As recently as last year, however, the proficient pair of Headmaster Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall had been sufficient.
Albus would wear the Sorting Hat while Minerva, sitting opposite, wrote the letters. She always preferred to at least ink the salutations and adieus by hand, even if the rest was copied by magic.
With Albus now gone and herself as Headmistress, necessity dictated that Minerva recruit Pomona and Filius. (She had not yet decided which would be her deputy headmaster/mistress, if either.) So it was a not-yet-trained trio of professors who now tackled the task of the letters, though it still went somewhat quickly with Minerva's direction and experience.
The Sorting Hat told her names, addresses, and slightly more specific locations, just as it once told Albus, while the heads of Houses Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff wrote the invitations and sorted them into piles of 'muggleborn' and 'wizardborn', just as she once did.
There was no set way to distinguish which was which; the Hat didn't discriminate in that way, as Minerva well knew by now. But Filius and Pomona should know the last names of most wizarding families in the country, and they know the locations of most magical villages and burrows. If an unfamiliar name or address came up, she had instructed them, if there was even the slightest doubt, the letters should go into the 'muggleborn' category for later review.
The letters to wizardborn children were as easy to deliver as the stairs to the Hogwarts Owlery were to climb, but the muggleborn children needed to receive their invitations by hand.
The Hat is imbued with ancient and powerful magic, but that magic isn't as omniscient as Headmistress McGonagall would have preferred. It can only say where a child is, not where the child lives. Minerva had warned Pomona and Filius that they would have to do this again at a different time for the addresses that did not seem to be home addresses. Sometimes it takes multiple days and a disillusioned (or animagus) visit to rule out sleepovers.
Before they began, Filius had asked why they don't start the letter-writing at night to avoid some of the trouble.
Minerva had shrugged helplessly. It was Hogwarts tradition to start on this day at 10:00 AM sharp. The Hat would not tolerate any delay that was not a strict emergency.
It was now past noon and they were getting to the end of the alphabet.
The final name that came to her was "Weasley, Ginevra," along with a location that Minerva didn't pay explicit attention to as she wrote it down word for word and spoke it aloud. The addresses were blurring together after so many others. Although she did note that it wasn't the Weasley Burrow, nor was it a wizarding area in general.
"That's odd," squeaked Filius.
"Mr. Weasley is Head of Muggle Artifacts," Pomona pointed out. "It is not extremely odd for his daughter to be in a muggle area. If that is a muggle area..."
"No, no," said Filius. He waved his wand, and the stack of 'muggleborn' letters briefly danced in front of him. One which was closer to the end of the alphabet rose above the others, and the rest settled down again. "It's almost exactly the same as this one. The only difference is the seat number."
"A theatre," said Pomona at once. "They must be attending a play."
"Ah," said Minerva, blinking in remembrance. "That must be the muggle theatre," she declared, slightly proud at having deduced that so quickly. Though it was fresh in her memory.
They both turned to look at her.
"Muggle theatre?" asked Pomona in surprise. "Shouldn't her father be at work? Or is it a special occasion?"
"It is," said Minerva, "but not in the way you are thinking. Yesterday at lunch, I intended to ask our good Defense Professor for help on a certain matter, but I quickly learned that he was too busy." She sighed heavily. "Apparently, on the Hogwarts Express, a large number of our students collectively decided that they would visit a muggle theatre over the summer, and our Defense Professor took it upon himself to prevent the scheme from threatening the Statute. He explained to me, rather wearily, that he had just finished wrangling enough Ministry manpower to guard the venture from curious muggle onlookers. He failed to inform me that the outing would be today…" She looked at the letter Filius had singled out. "But I suppose that makes our job a little easier. I don't remember all the adults in attendance, but I know for a fact that Molly is there. She would be thrilled to deliver her daughter's letter."
"And this one?" asked Filius, the other letter dancing in front of him again.
Minerva gave a fond smile. "I can think of no better introduction to our world than Molly Weasley."
A few minutes later, Minerva realized that Molly probably wouldn't be introducing an ordinary muggleborn to the world of magic. The Defense Professor hadn't explained every detail about the outing, but he mentioned that the muggle theatre had been fully bought out to avoid as many Statute problems as possible. Everyone in attendance should be related, in some way, to a current student of Hogwarts. And now that she thought about it, the name did sound familiar, though she couldn't quite recall from where, but that must mean it's a wizarding name…
Nevertheless, the decision had been made. Pomona was already on the way, and Minerva still thought Molly was a good choice for hand-delivering the letter.
Pomona Sprout was bemused to learn that muggles kept so many theatres in a single theatrehouse. But once she understood that fact, it wasn't difficult from there. The aurors standing guard recognized her (she had taught one of them), and after submitting herself to security charms and explaining that she was delivering Hogwarts acceptance letters, they allowed her to pass through.
And then she was distracted by… by the… illusion? Muggles shouldn't be able to produce illusions, but she had no better word for the scene on the large, flat parchment.
Then thoughts of impossibility were replaced by wonder and awe as she watched a living candelabra sing and dance across a table with other fine china and cutlery.
It wasn't until the sequence ended that she remembered her purpose, and remembered that she was on a schedule. The first adult she encountered within the theatre was David Monroe, who stood near the entrance, looking not at the screen but at the children. A quick question and Pomona found her quarry.
Molly was on an edge chair in the upper back of the seating area – to better see all the children, Pomona supposed. After a brief, hushed conversation, Molly quietly promised that she would deliver both letters during the next intermission.
Pomona Sprout left the theatre in a bit of a daze. She had known in a vague sense that muggles are not "scratching at the dirt" like the blood purists say, but she hadn't known they were capable of that.
The second intermission for the boys didn't last as long as the first. Five things happened:
They left their seats. The bowel-halting enchantment was lifted. They went to the bathroom. They returned to their seats. The bowel-halting enchantment was reinstated.
Unlike the first movie, the second had ended on a cliffhanger.
The second intermission for the witches was just like their first: long and gushing, except longer and with more gushing. Although the extra length of the intermission wasn't entirely thanks to The Beauty and the Beast.
It had everything to do with movie at first. If they thought Cinderella was 'amazing', the young witches barely had words to describe their feelings about The Beauty and the Beast.
But after Molly Weasley made a certain announcement, to the delighted surprise of the group, the girls were happy to transfigure their fawning over the movie into their vicarious joy and nostalgia over Hogwarts acceptance letters.
Both girls were immediately asked which house they thought they would be in.
"Ravenclaw," said Ginevra Weasley.
Everyone present had been expecting the Weasley to say 'Gryffindor', and so everyone present could instantly guess the reason behind the 'Ravenclaw' answer, especially after that Daily Prophet article. There were many knowing looks and much giggling.
One girl almost went too far, putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder and saying, "Sorry, he's taken," with a significant glance to Hermione Granger, who sighed in exasperation.
Ginny's cheeks were bright red. She covered her face with her hands, at which point everyone eased up on the teasing.
Then expectant eyes turned to the other girl. The 'Ravenclaw' answer had been a fun distraction, but real curiosity is borne from the unknown.
Black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin would have pointed to House Black a few decades back, but that was impossible now. Molly had announced her name earlier, but nobody recognized it, and nobody recognized her face either. They only knew that she had been the one who asked about flip-books earlier – or at least, that's what most girls now remember after the fact.
Many Slytherins assumed her to be a half-blood whose witch mother distastefully took on her muggle husband's last name. Or perhaps she had a wizard father who had been disowned by his family. The rest weren't thinking in those terms; they were interested in future house affiliation, not blood status.
"I'm still not sure," said the girl. "My mother's worried about the friends I make when I go to Hogwarts. I'm a bit worried myself. Hufflepuff would help with that, and I know I'd like it there. I've got lots of friends… though I won't be seeing them as often once I start Hogwarts."
Half-blood with muggle friends for sure, confirmed many Slytherins in their minds.
"But Mum also taught me to think about others, not just myself. I'm not sure I need more happiness for myself. I'm not sure Hufflepuff needs more happiness either. Same with Gryffindor. So I'm thinking Slytherin or Ravenclaw. I still haven't decided."
"Are you getting good grades in school?" asked Hermione Granger.
"I didn't go to that kind of school," the girl shrugged, to the shock of most muggleborns present.
One asked if she knew how to read and write.
"Of course I do," said the girl, her voice sounding just as offended as the faces of the wizardborn witches looked.
"Wizards and witches have a tradition of homeschooling before they go to Hogwarts," Hermione gently informed the embarrassed girl who had just been rebuked. "And some muggles do too." She turned back to the new girl. "Do you think you will get good grades at Hogwarts?" she clarified her original question.
"My parents think I'll get very good grades. Not that grades are the end-all-be-all, as Dad likes to say. I asked him if he was just being a sore loser from his time at school, and he laughed and said that he might be, since he came in second place himself, so…" she shrugged. "I think I'm smart enough for Ravenclaw, if that's what you're asking."
"Who are your parents?" asked the Carrow twins at almost exactly the same time, their voices overlapping. They leaned in eagerly, as did many other Syltherins, and a few curious Ravenclaws as well.
The girl smiled, gave a brief glance in the direction of the adult chaperones, and leaned in herself. In a conspiratorial whisper that was loud enough for everyone to hear, she said, "It's a secret." She grinned wider, and even giggled a little at the reaction she got.
"Why?" pouted Pansy Parkinson, who had come on this trip only because she'd heard that Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott would be here. "Are you a half-blood?" she accused, saying the quiet part out loud without the slightest bit of tact, and causing almost every non-Slytherin to glare. Pansy herself didn't seem to notice, though some of her house did, and some of the more socially aware ones shrunk back a little at the overwhelming peer pressure.
Molly Weasley interrupted at this point, saying that that's enough questions, and asked David Monroe to undo the bathroom spell again. The man had the courtesy to do it one at a time, in such a way that there wasn't congestion at the stalls.
Inside the bathroom, and just outside as well, a few girls tried to pull the "you can trust me, I won't tell anyone" routine.
The new girl looked each witch who said that square in the eyes and asked them if they'd ever spread a rumor before. She repeated her question when they tried to distract. She asked the same question in a more narrow, specific way when they gave mealy-mouthed excuses. She said "I believe you," in exactly the same tone that the last girl said "No, I've never spread rumors." Which is to say her delivery was over-dramatized and obviously fake. Then her facial features dropped from false sincerity to neutrality, and she just let that sentence hang in the air for a while.
This scattered the last of the rumormongers like sunlight scatters cockroaches, and even though she had not yet been sorted, many Hufflepuff girls were beginning to like her. And many Ravenclaws as well.
"You'd be very welcomed in Ravenclaw," said Penelope Clearwater.
"I know," said the girl with what looked like a genuine smile. "Thank you, but I still haven't decided."
"Between Ravenclaw and Slytherin?" asked Daphne Greengrass.
The girl nodded again.
Daphne leaned in to whisper. Genuinely whisper, such that nobody else would hear. Though eavesdropping charms are still a thing, so she made sure to speak in a way that wouldn't be bad if it got out. "Just so you know… if you can't talk about your parents, Slytherin probably won't like you all that much. I wish it wasn't that way right now, but…"
The girl smiled again. "I know that too," she whispered back. "Thank you for warning me. Will you be my friend if I do go to Slytherin?"
"I'll be your friend even if you don't," Daphne decided. She already had friends in the other four houses. She should branch out to different years. "You should ask Hermione too. Especially if you have trouble with homework. She's great at that."
The girl blinked, finally showing some genuine surprise. "Hermione?"
"Her," said Daphne, pointing a finger.
The girl turned and looked. Her puzzled frown only deepened when she followed the finger to its target.
"Is something wrong?" asked Daphne, a bit worried at the girl's puzzlement.
"No," said the girl, as if automatically. "Not at all. Sorry. I just… remembered something…" She turned back to Daphne. "Names run in families, right?"
Now Daphne was the puzzled one. "Um… yes? Don't they run in muggle families too?"
The girl shook her head. "I don't know. Never mind. I'm sorry for the strange question."
"It's alright," said Daphne. "Maybe you're confused about something else. Hermione's the Girl-Who-Revived now, so I guess there's going to be some confusion about her. Did you know she got phoenix?"
The girl blinked. "A phoenix? You mean as a friend?"
"As a familiar," Daphne corrected her. "It's very rare."
"Okay, dearies," said Molly Weasley, clapping her hands above the buzz of conversation. "Break's over. Hermione dear, would you like to say anything about the next movie?"
Hermione shook her head. "Just that it's not one whole story this time. It's a bunch of little stories."
"What's it called?" asked a girl.
"Fantasia."
And since those three films combined were shorter than the three Star Wars films, they also had time for Snow White and the Seven Dwarves before the day let out. This last one, strangely enough, had been a recommendation by the Defense Professor.
As they walked back to their seats, the girl stared at Hermione, still wearing that puzzled frown.
"…It's the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine-"
"Say Draco," said Harry suddenly. "Do you think the law about the Most Ancient Blade will be repealed any time soon?"
"What?" Draco allowed himself to be distracted from the music on the 'radio' and from the passing muggle scenery outside the 'car'. "Why would it be repealed?"
"Overwhelming delinquency if it isn't?" Harry prompted.
Draco absorbed that, and thought. "The casting forms are only known by the noble houses. They're not available to the public."
"And if they leak somehow?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Are you planning to get everyone at Hogwarts to break the law?"
"The technical term in this case would be civil disobedience," Harry said, "and of course I'm not secretly hoping that everyone in the country will spontaneously fall in love with the idea of having their own lightsaber and break the law all at once in a perfectly civil manner," he lied. "But I do think it's a bit unfair that only nobles like us can legally use a spell, and everyone else gets a fine if they try. Or worse than a fine, until a few months ago. Rules for thee and not for me is…"
"The first rule for being a ruler?" Draco suggested.
"…the opposite of an ideal government," Harry finished. "Make a rule, exempt yourself. Make a rule, exempt yourself. You see it over and over in the ruling classes of history, and it always goes wrong, because rulers who do it can't stop doing it, and eventually the people get fed up and revolt. And then things get messy, and no matter who wins the conflict everyone is worse off. Like the prisoner's dilemma."
Draco thought about it for a while. "In muggle history, maybe. It doesn't hurt the rulers much when the peasants don't have the power to do anything about it."
"A power gap which the armies are helping to fix," Harry nodded decisively. "Thanks, Professor Quirrell," he sighed blissfully. "I mean Monroe. Man, I'm still getting that wrong sometimes."
Draco chose not to respond to this, instead pulling out his pocket watch. Normally he would cast a Tempus, but that would violate underage magic laws in front of witnesses. His watch said 6:00 PM, and his father would pick him up at 9:30 PM. There was a dinner party- children NOT invited- which Father and Mother needed to attend for political reasons.
Not that Draco was discontent. Now that he's directly seen some of what the muggle world has to offer, he wouldn't mind seeing a bit more. It'll be interesting to visit Harry's house, to learn about the environment that, if not birthed, fostered all that insanity.
"Do you have anything planned for tonight?" asked Draco.
Harry blinked. "When's your father picking you up?"
"Nine thirty."
"Nine thirty?" Harry's father echoed. "Wasn't it six thirty?"
It developed that there had been some sort of mix-up. No, nothing was planned for the night after dinner except the 'Verres tradition' of reading, though Harry's mother nixed that in the face of unexpected company.
"I hate to suggest it," said Harry's father. "But what about another movie? Our board gams aren't easy to pick up in a single night."
"Another movie?" asked Draco. "Wouldn't that take too long?"
"Most movies are two and a half hours at most," said Harry. "What we watched in the theatre was a trilogy. We have time for an independent film."
"Do theatres run this late?" asked Draco.
"They do," said Harry's father. "Especially on Fridays. But we have a cassette player at home."
"A way to watch movies outside of theatres," Harry supplied before Draco could ask. "But I'm not interested in most of our movies, Dad."
"What about the Hobbit?"
Harry tilted his head. "Hmm… well, I've always said I'd rather read the book for the tenth time than watch that again… but now that you mention it, it is a decent introduction to Tolkien if you don't have the time…"
"Despite how much it leaves out?" his father said with a grin.
Harry didn't allow himself to be annoyed at his own words being used against him. "I didn't understand what you meant when you showed me the first time, but I think I get it now. Sure, it leaves out a lot of the plot-"
"No Bejorn, no Arkenstone, tons of cut dialogue…" his father recited from memory.
"But it does capture the heart of the story," Harry finally admitted. "Especially for people who don't like to read as much."
"And it gets the most important scene right," said his father.
"And the music is nice," his mother added from the passenger seat.
When Lucius Malfoy's portkey landed him and his bodyguards in front of a muggle house, he walked forward without delay. It had been a long day, some of it enjoyable, but he was ready for it to end.
The lights that lit as they followed the path briefly startled him, and he made a mental note to… no. On second thought, he would not file Statute of Secrecy paperwork against the Potter household- or rather, he would not command another to file it.
For one, he had been told to make nice. For two, those lights were the muggle kind.
There was little doubt in his mind that, if he asked, he would learn that they had lit up for strange, muggle reasons. Perhaps a timer of some kind, as muggles do at least have clocks. He's had enough political debates to know that much.
Goyle pressed the little circular 'button' that should alert the muggles inside to their presence.
Not much later, the door opened. "Good evening," said a muggle woman whose complexion was bolstered by magic of some kind.
Now he was truly considering the paperwork, despite his instructions. But no, he would not succumb. Though he would ask about it. Eventually.
"Good evening," he said. He even managed to mean it, in the general sense that the evening, on the whole, was a good one.
"Are you here to pick up Draco, Gregory, and Vincent?" asked the woman.
"We are." He forced himself to incline his head, despite his sensibilities screaming at him for showing respect to a muggle.
The woman smiled. "The movie's almost finished. You can go through the fireplace when it's done. Please, come in."
Lucius accepted the offer as if he felt no internal conflict at all. Orders are orders. His bodyguards followed him into the muggle house with the same mindset, and they were quickly offered seats and a spot of tea.
Despite being in the next room over – the woman said he might distract the children and asked him to stay in the dining room for a moment – Lucius could hear voices, music, and sound effects, as if he was hearing a play.
He heard something about a grey stone and a thrush knocking, spoken in a heavy tone vaguely reminiscent of a seer's voice. He heard a man speak of a door and a key, and the sound of rumbling stone. He heard men nervously ask 'what now?'. He heard what was likely the leader singling out the 'esteemed Mr. Baggins' to 'carry out the service for which he was included in our company', and that there was a contract about it.
Eventually, he asked the muggle woman if he could see the play. He reassured her he would not draw attention to himself.
"You might have a bit of trouble seeing it," she whispered as she led him to the small sitting room.
It took his eyes a moment to adjust, to focus on the relatively small square of light, but when they did…
He again had to remind himself that this was a muggle artifact, not magic, though in retrospect the quality of the image and sound made it obvious.
The story of dragon-guarded treasure was as old as time, but the burglar angle and the conversation with the dragon was new. He immediately got the sense that the fictional world was much larger than what he was seeing, and that suspicion was confirmed when, after the dragon was killed (by a tastefully executed nod to the power of tradition, symbolized by a Black Arrow), instead of a happy ending there was a war over its hoard by every faction with claim to it. Lucius was glad his son was not being shown something too unrealistic, though five armies at once stretched credulity, even if it did highlight the message.
He felt the same about the scene of a common enemy uniting divided sides under a single banner. Heavy-handed in its delivery, but this is a children's story, so that can be tolerated.
And then there was a death scene…
Despite the limitations of the medium, Lucius had to admit to quality when he saw it. There was strength of writing and strength of delivery, just like with the Black Arrow. "Child of the kindly west… if more of us valued your ways, food and cheer above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But, sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell."
Lucius was not one to be moved by plays anymore, and he was not moved by this either. But he had never heard the cliché expressed in quite that manner before. Small though it was, this was the first moment Lucius, in the back of his mind, quietly understood that there were perhaps things of true value to be found in the muggle world beyond amusing little trinkets.
A week later, during Harry Potter's birthday – to which his son would be invited – Lucius made the full-blown realization in the front of his mind as well, much as he wished to deny it.
The Japanese restaurant, which Potter's muggle family has apparently visited every year since its London debut in 1986, was undeniably brilliant in taste and presentation both. There was a form of dinner entertainment Lucius had never seen or imagined, in which the food was cooked by a theatrical chef on a stove built directly into the customer seating tables, to the fright and delight of Potter's friends, though Harry Potter himself seemed to know the performance by rote.
And all of it had been done without magic.
As if rubbing salt in the wound, Harry Potter insisted on playing a certain muggle song on repeat during his subsequent party at the muggle 'swimming pool', at least until everyone got tired of it.
…It's the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine…
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I’m going to take a guess and say that the mystery girl might be from the other side of the mirror. Which, if true, would make this chapter “(Three) Worlds Collide.”
As a side note, the sections of this story where magic users (both Equestrian and of the Wizarding World) get a glimpse of muggle’s potential and power is quite enjoyable.
Little did Hermione know, that barely two decades later, she would personally be dancing through that very ballroom, and Harry didnt know he could, with enough cash, wander into one of several shops on Oxford road for one example, and pick up any of a number of muggle mechanisms that could not only play games, but with some effort and a lot more cash, recreate that ballroom scene.
But then, which house would back which machine, and which Games would rule?
Lemmings, verses Worms, verses Hedgehogs, verses Plumbers.
... Between not knowing muggle naming conventions, thinking of a phoenix as a friend, recognizing the name Hermione and being surprised by it -- yea, this is a pony in human form.
Aniponus?
My guess for the mystery girl is Autumn Query, the unknown name who'd signed in chapter 51. When I read that chapter, my first thought was that it might be the daughter of Luna and Quirrel, and the description seems to fit. Come to think of it, we don't know Quirrel's patronus thought yet, do we?
Great story btw. Having recently finished my binge, this is a worthy continuation of hpmor.
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I had the same idea. Her being a pony is obvious on close reading. From there, it's fairly easy to piece together the rest. If the pony was unrelated to Riddle, there's no reason 'Hermione' would mean something to her since she went by a different name in Equestria. Daughter, adoptive or otherwise, is the most likely option from there. Though 'Autumn Query' is a nice catch, I didn't notice that myself! I have to wonder why Luna and Riddle wouldn't tell her about the time-jump. If I had to guess, maybe Riddle gave her clues and wanted her to 'figure things out for herself' when it came to the timeskip. Definitely IC for Riddle to pull something like that lol
I have to agree on the quality - I've tried out several other HPMoR continuations, and this is the only one that's scratched the same itch as the original. Most other continuations lean in on the rational angle, but they often come off too cold. This stays rational while remembering to have some fun along the way, you know? Plus, it doesn't hurt we get a bunch more Quirrell, something the other continuations lack for obvious reasons. Yeah, definitely my fav continuation, overall. Though Significant Digits is pretty good, too.
Why bring "normal movies" is flipbook is direct analogy?
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Oh my, the two of you are right about something. This pony in hogwarts comes on Monroe's timeline -- so 35 years since Harry and Hermione left. Those names would be names of legend. Or ... they might not. If not, then they will just be names in the stories told by Prince Excelsior, and that means someone deeply close.
Yeah, the real details would only have been told to someone that signed that contract. So we have our Autumn Query.
These are entirely consistent with Prince Excelsior; Tom Riddle would be "second place", I suppose. Luna being the one who was worried about the friends that would be made in that school, and to think of others, ... well, it would certainly fit. I'm not sure that Luna would have a child, though; perhaps in 15+ years of her care, he did manage to find some social time, find some pony, and ...
So what if it did not take him 35 years to learn the lessons; what if it was 20-ish years, and then the time of caring for his foal as she grows up, before coming back? This would imply that his wife is also now a pony turned human perhaps?
Could the children choose which to watch? The organizers of this event might not believe it, but not everyone matches the stereotypes associated with their gender and I'm certain there were some girls that wanted to watch Star Wars and some boys that wanted to watch Disney films. This type of gender-based pigeonholing is really irritating to me.
More pigeonholing! >:(
"the other four houses" kind of implies there's five Hogwarts houses.
board games
This is what I had always hoped for from HPMOR. But the story escalated so quickly that it ended before anyone actually got exposed to the muggle world.
I have a Small nerd issue with this chapter.
The harry potter universe (atleast the original serie) takes place between 1991 - 1998
The lord of the rings and the hobbit movies, of which they are watching at the end of the chapter (I presume they are watching the Peter Jackson version) was respectively first released 2001 (LOTR) and 2021 (Hobbit).
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I have a small counter-nerd issue that you are entirely unfamiliar with the Rankin & Bass animated film, The Hobbit (1977).
This is going to be a fun near apocalypse I guess?