Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6365203.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Gen
  Fandom:
      Fullmetal_Alchemist_(Anime_2003), Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Additional Tags:
      Original_Character(s), POV_Original_Character, POV_First_Person, Well-
      Meaning_Dumbledore, Canon_Relationships, Explicit_Consent, Good
      Slytherins, Hogwarts_First_Year, Hogwarts_Second_Year, Hogwarts_Third
      Year, Hogwarts_Fourth_Year, Hogwarts_Fifth_Year, Hogwarts_Sixth_Year,
      Hogwarts_Seventh_Year
  Series:
      Part 2 of The_Iron_Sole_Alchemist
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-03-26 Completed: 2016-03-27 Chapters: 67/67 Words: 285651
****** The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts ******
by Howlin_the_Werewolf
Summary
     This story follows the continuing travels of the Iron Sole Alchemist.
     After arriving through the Veil of Death in the Department of
     Mysteries, he and his traveling companions learn about the wonders
     and horrors of the wizarding world. With a Philosopher's Stone of
     their own, and the dangerous knowledge of how to make more,
     Dumbledore takes them under his protection by enrolling them in
     Hogwarts. But an alchemist isn't the same thing as a wizard. With no
     magic of their own, it's a scramble just to keep up the illusion in
     their classes. But when the restless shade of Lord Voldemort
     threatens the lives of their new friends, they give everything
     they've got to protect them.
***** Sorting Out the Basics *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 1) Sorting Out the Basics
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *


Note:
This story is an immediate sequel to The Iron Sole Alchemist.  That story
introduces characters, events, and concepts.  You may not understand everything
if you have not read the previous story.  
Additionally, unlike the previous story, where pains were taken to avoid
stepping on the toes of the canon, events will diverge from the original canon
ones in the new universe due to the actions of the characters from another
world.  
                                     * * *


Sloth and I surveyed our surroundings.  We'd arrived in a circular, stone
room.  There was a door on one side leading out.  The room itself was
maintained, with no signs of dust or other abandonment.  Despite the room's
spartan and dreary appearance, the air smelled fresh, not stale.  

"The archway we saw from the other side looks stable," I said, looking over the
veiled passageway we'd used to enter this world.  

Sloth set her bag down and walked with Loki to the opposite side of the room. 
She waved her hand through one of the stone benches as though it weren't really
there and reported, "Looks like our powers are working normally."  

Sloth went back to retrieve her bag.  Loki turned his head toward the door and
let out a warning bark.  A pair of figures dressed in long, black robes stepped
through the door, noticed our presence, and each drew a long, thin rod from a
holster at their hips and pointed them at Sloth and I like weapons.  

"Who are you?  What are you doing here?" demanded one of the robed men,
fearfully.  

"My name is Greed.  This is Sloth and Loki," I said, with my open palms facing
the men and slow, deliberate gestures.  "We're peaceful explorers."  

"How did you get in here?" asked the other robed figure, with more than a hint
of accusation in his voice.  

Loki didn't like that tone, and growled at the men.  The dog's hair stood on
end and blue light began to emanate from the alchemy arrays tattooed beneath
his fur.  

Whirling in an instant, the first man to speak, thrust his weapon towards Loki
and shouted, "Stupefy!"  A bolt of red light lanced out from the rod in his
hand and impacted my dog with obvious force.  Loki let out a yelp of pain, then
fell motionless to the floor, the alchemic light he had begun to emit falling
dark.  

Sloth was moving the instant Loki fell, sprinting in a zigzag pattern toward
the man who'd fired.  He couldn't aim at her properly, so she was able to close
the distance and punch the man hard enough to send him backward into a wall,
then fall unconscious over a bench.  

While Sloth went on the offensive, I raised my left arm towards our attackers
and activated a transmutation circle embroidered on a wristband.  A glowing
blue disk sprang up between me and the robed figure as I called out, "Loki?!" 
I breathed a sign of relief when I saw the animal was still breathing.  

"Stupefy!" yelled the remaining man, and his bolt of red light impacted against
the disk of solidified air being held in place by my alchemy.  He didn't miss a
step, spinning to point the weapon at Sloth instead, who's unpredictable motion
hadn't yet resumed after her last attack.  "Stupefy!" he yelled again, and
Sloth crumpled unconscious from the hit.  

I stomped my right foot and a stone hand emerged from the floor beneath my
opponent, accompanied by sparks of alchemic light.  It reached up to pin the
man, but before its grip could close, he again aimed his weapon at me and
shouted "Stupefy!"  He'd aimed low, and rather than impacting against my
shield, the red bolt went under it, impacting on the foot I'd used to trigger
the alchemy, and I fell unconscious.  
                                     * * *


I was in a different room when I came to.  Sloth, Loki, and I were tied up. 
Our bags were on a table on the opposite side of the room.  Two people were
watching us.  They weren't the same ones who'd captured us initially, but they
were wearing black robes and were taking turns keeping a weapon pointed at us. 
There was a glass bottle on the table with our things.  

"Where am I?" I asked as I came around.  

"You're in a holding cell," answered the middle aged woman with her weapon
lowered as her parter continued to aim his in my direction.  

"What were you doing in the Department of Mysteries?" she asked.  

"Exploring," I replied.  "We're explorers."  

"You picked the wrong place to satisfy your curiosity," she said.  "How did you
get past the security?"  

"Security?" I asked.  "We came through the archway."  

She glanced at her partner and muttered, "He's been memory charmed to keep him
from talking under the veritasyrum.  The girl probably too."  Then she turned
to me and asked, "Do you know your name?  Where are you from?"  

"My name is Marcus Oren.  I'm from the city of Liore, on the east side of the
country of Amestris, north of Ishbal.  And my memory is fine."  

"Let's test that," she said, skeptically.  "What can you tell me about the
objects you were carrying?"  

"The hilt with designs on it is a weapon that extends an energy blade you use
like a sword.  Most of the red crystals are used in alchemy.  The big one is
the Philosopher's Stone."  I gasped.  I'd just casually identified the most
powerful and dangerous object in all of alchemy to people who, the only thing I
knew about them was that they were holding me prisoner.  "Why did I say that?"
 

"That's a good question," she mused.  "You can't lie until the veritasyrum
wears off, so you really believe what yo said.  And so soon after the Gringotts
break in."  She tapped her index finger against her lip for a moment, then told
her partner, "Keep an eye on them.  If the Philosopher's Stone is involved,
we'll need a consultant."  

A few minutes after the woman left, Sloth started to come around.  

"Is getting captured and tied up just going to be a thing traveling with you?"
she asked.  

"That's not fair," I complained.  "This is the first time it's happened to
you."  

"I'm just saying, you made a habit of this and didn't exactly break it when we
teamed up."  

"They've dosed me with some kind of truth drug," I said, changing the subject. 
"Probably you too."  

"The sky is orange at sunset, but usually blue during the day," said Sloth. 
"Yep.  Looks like they dosed me too.  What do we do?"  

"They didn't think to take my boots-" I began to say.  

"Evanesco!" called out the guard, waving the rod in his hand toward me, and my
boots vanished off my feet.  

"Truth drugs.  Right.  Sorry, Greed," said Sloth.  

"How did you do that?" I asked the guard.  "I've never seen anything quite like
that?"  

He didn't speak and just watched Sloth and I for any sign we were about to try
something.  The two of us sat in silence for a few moments when the woman
returned, followed by an old man with a long, grey beard, wearing purple
robes.  The old man's eye was instantly drawn to the Philosopher's Stone, and I
detected a note of recognition.  

"You made the right decision contacting me," he said to the woman who'd
escorted him in.  He then turned his attention to me, bending at the waist to
look me straight in the eye.  After a long moment, he reached into a pocket and
pulled out a small bag.  "Would you like a sherbet lemon?"  

I looked dubiously at the sack of wrapped candies he offered.  "They already
dosed me with veritasyrum," I said.  

"Then you've nothing to fear from accepting," noted the man with a mischievous
twinkle in his eye.  "In any case, I am satisfied with your story and you are
both free to go."  As he said that, he drew a rod of his own, gestured vaguely,
and the ropes on Sloth, Loki, and I all vanished just like my boots had a few
minutes earlier.  

"Dumbledore, you can't be serious," exclaimed the woman who'd brought him in
the first place.  Even so, neither of the two guards raised thir weapons.  

"I don't joke about offering sweets," said Dumbledore.  "Besides, you couldn't
have held them.  And once they were gone, things would've been far more
difficult."  

I took one of the wrapped candies from the offered bag, gave it a cursory look,
then popped it into my mouth.  The two guards just stared incredulously.  

Sloth hopped to her feet and asked, "Can I have one?"  

"Of course," he said, offering the bag.  Then he turned toward the guards.  "I
would like for neither of you to speak of this, and I trust the unspeakables
who found them will live up to their namesake."  

"What's this all about?" asked the woman.  

"I regret that secrets must be maintained for the time being.  The enemy has
already penetrated Gringotts, and the fewer who know the full story, the safer
the Stone will be."  

They weren't happy about it, but both guards nodded their assent and left the
room.  

"Thank you for that," I said when they'd gone.  

"Who is this enemy?" asked Sloth.  

"As I told the Aurors," said Dumbledore, "some secrets must regrettably be
maintained.  As you are both well aware, it is possible to extract secrets from
the unwilling."  

Sloth and I couldn't deny the point.  While we considered our situation, we
repacked our bags.  

"I will say," continued Dumbledore, "that the enemy is currently attempting to
acquire a Philosopher's Stone, and that if he should succeed, the consequences
could be disastrous."  

"We're wekk aware of what the Stone can do in the wrong hands," said Sloth.  

"Indeed," he replied.  "A good friend of mine recently entrusted his Stone to
my care."  He withdrew a blood red stone from a pocket.  It was smaller than
our Stone, but I could feel the power contained within.  It was a genuine
Philosopher's Stone.  "I have agreed to keep it under guard at the safest
location possible.  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  I am willing
to extend the same offer to you, to keep the Stone safe until the danger has
passed."  

"A school you say?" I asked with a twinkle in my eye that fully lived up to the
homunculus moniker I'd chosen.  "Where you learn how to do things like the
ropes?"  

"He does already have one Stone," noted Sloth.  "If he was going to cause
trouble, he wouldn't need ours."  

"And with no idea what sort of threats might be in this world, we'd be worse at
protecting it than he would be," I added.  

"Are we agreed, then?" asked Dumbledore.  

"On one condition," I said.  "We attend this school so we can be close by if
anything goes wrong."  

"I'm afraid Hogwarts is a boarding school for ages eleven through eighteen," he
said.  "You are far too old to pass as a student, and you far too young."  

"We can fix that," I said with a smirk.  

Sloth nodded her assent to me, and I clapped my hands.  I placed on palm
against the oroboros mark in the center of my chest, and the other on Sloth's
oroboros mark on her shoulder blade.  Sloth grew and I shrunk amid a shower of
blue alchemic sparks dancing along our bodies.  We stopped at the same height
and looked at Dumbledore, who smiled.  

"It would seem I've run out of objections," he said.  "I will enroll you both
as muggleborn exchange students from a distant land.  What names shall I use?"
 

"I go by Sloth," she said as she placed the Stone in Dumbledore's hands, "but
if that's a problem, I've also answered to Nina Tucker."  

"Likewise, either Greed or Marcus Oren," I told him.  "It's for the best that
we be there," I added.  "If the goal is to keep the enemy from getting the
Stone, we'll need protection too.  We both know how to make it."  

Loki came around at that point and I greeted my dog, quickly assuring him that
I was still me, and that everything was alright now.  

"In that case," said Dumbledore, "in addition to your normal classes, I shall
have to schedule Occlumency lessons for the both of you.  Well, come with me."
 

Dumbledore led the three of us through the halls, down an elevator,, and into a
massive lobby.  Floating paper airplanes that accompanied us on the elevator
rushed out to join a flock of them traveling down the long hall above a crowd
of people.  I caught sight of a statue in the center, depicting a number of
inhuman entities, and what looked like fireplaces along the walls before
Dumbledore grasped my forearm.  I felt my entire body compress.  It was an
uncomfortable, but not exactly painful process.  

An instant later, I was back to normal, and the four of us were now outside. 
Sloth and Loki both seemed as disoriented as I felt.  

"This is Diagon Alley," said Dumbledore after making sure none of us were going
to vomit.  "Here are your Hogwarts acceptance letters."  He handed us each an
envelope.  "I will, of course, have to sort out some paperwork to make it
official.  I imagine poor Minerva will be most put out with me accepting new
students so late."  He also handed each of us a small bag that jingled.  "Since
I am taking your Philosopher's Stone, it's only fair that I leave you with the
money to buy your school supplies.  I look forward to seeing you both at the
start of the term."  With that, he vanished with a popping noise, leaving us
alone in the narrow avenue.  
                                     * * *


Sloth and I stepped off to the side of the street out of the flow of traffic to
look over the letters we'd been given.  In the package of documents was a form
letter, a list of supplies, and a train ticket.  

I looked to Sloth with an eager grin and asked, "Ready to go buy a magic wand?"
 

It didn't take long to find the right shop.  When we went inside, we found
hundreds of boxes piled haphazardly in the small store.  An old man looked up
from his book as we entered.  

"First year students?" he asked, setting his book aside.  "My name is
Ollivander.  Welcome to my shop.  Each wand you see here has been expertly hand
crafted.  The woods have been carefully selected and paired with a core of an
appropriate magical substance.  You won't find higher quality anywhere else."  

"I'm Sloth.  This is Greed."  

"Those are quite unusual names," he noted.  "May I ask where you're from."  

"A very... very distant country called Amestris," I said.  "You probably
haven't heard of it."  

"You would be correct," said Ollivander with a slight bow.  "So, shall we see
about matching you to your wands?"  

"What are our options?" I asked.  

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way," he said with a good natured chuckle. 
"The wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around."  

"Then how-?" began Sloth, but Ollivander was already answering.  

"We make a few educated guesses, then you'll try wands out until we have a
match.  Your wand arms, if you please."  He'd taken a line of measuring tape
from around his neck.  

"Which arm is that?" asked.  

"Muggleborns," he noted to himself, then said, "your dominant hand.  The one
you write with?"  

Dumbledore had used the same term to describe our cover identity.  On the plus
side, it seemed to be working.  On the minus side, it would help if I knew what
I was pretending to be.  

"What does muggleborn mean?" I asked as he measured our right arms.  

"A wizard child of two muggles," he said.  Then noting our blank stares
clarified.  "Muggles are what we call non-magical folk.  Your parents weren't
wizards, were they?"  

Sloth and I glanced at one another and shook our heads.  

"Then that makes you muggleborn.  Don't worry," he hastily added.  "We don't
discriminate at this shop."  

It hadn't occurred to me that he might, which made his reassurance less than
reassuring.  

"Try these," he said, shoving a wand at each of us.  Indicating the one in my
hand, he rattled off, "Rosewood.  Thirteen inches.  Very flexible.  Dragon
heartstring core.  Excellent for transfiguration."  Turning to Sloth, he said,
"Ash.  Twelve inches.  Unyielding.  With a core of unicorn hair.  Good for
charms."  

"What do we?" I started to ask.  

"Wave them," he said.  "Give them a good flick and see if they're a match."  

Sloth and I waved the wands, not really sure what to expect.  All that happened
was that Ollivander snatched them out of our hands and put different wands into
them.  Again, he rattled off statistics and selling points that meant nothing
to me, and again he took both wands away.  

After the fifth attempt, I asked, "What are we looking for?"  

"When there's a match, there will be a feeling of warmth, and a small sign of
magic.  Usually a few sparks."  

We tried for three hours, seemingly going through every wand in the shop, but
not a single one reacted to either of us in any way.  

"I must say," declared Ollivander, "this has never happened before.  I have had
some tough customers, but I've always been able to match a wand to every
customer who's come into my shop.  And now to at the same time.  Very curious
indeed."  

"What does that mean?" asked Sloth.  

"Wandlore is a vast and sometimes mysterious subject, even to those of us who
have dedicated our lives to its study.  In the grander scale, I am not certain
what this portends.  As to the immediate, I'm afraid it means neither of you
will be leaving with a wand today."  

"What?" I asked.  "But we need one."  

"I am aware," he said, helplessly.  "As I said earlier, the wand chooses the
wizard, and no wand chose you."  
                                     * * *


Sloth and I left the shop feeling disoriented and worried.  Loki kept us from
just standing outside the wand shop staring into space.  Licking at our hands
and urging us to move around after the three hour failure of a shopping trip.  

"Let's get the other supplies and then worry about the wand thing," I
suggested.  "It'll give us something to do while we think."  

We stopped off at the book shop first, and began to read over the textbooks
while the other was being fitted for their robes.  Once we'd gathered
everything else, Sloth, Loki, and I sat down in an alley, where I transmuted
some garbage into new pairs of shoes for the two of us.  

"I think I figured out why the wands don't work," said Sloth.  "From what I
read, it looks like wizards are really rare.  And they usually demonstrate some
sort of uncontrolled magic when they're younger.  Did anything weird happen
around you growing up?"  

"No," I said, thinking back and frowning.  

"Neither did Nina, who I'm based on.  Greed, I think we're muggles."  

"They don't let muggles in to Hogwarts, do they?" I guessed.  "So not only
can't we learn to use this world's magic, but we can't get to where Dumbledore
is keeping our Philosopher's Stone."  

"I was really looking forward to this," said Sloth sadly.  "Nina died before
she could go to school."  

There had to be something we'd missed.  I flipped open one of the books we'd
bought to a random page.  "You know..." I said, glancing over the spell
described.  "Some of these spells have effects that would be easy enough to
duplicate with alchemy."  

"What are you thinking?" she asked.  

In response, I took the wooden hilt engraved with alchemic arrays we'd used to
fight the Nazis out of my bag.  It would do for raw materials.  I set it on the
ground, clapped my hands, and touched it.  The wood glowed blue as it thinned
and lengthened, becoming covered in a much more complex alchemic array.  Then I
took a red stone and affixed it to one end.  

"I'm proposing we make our own wands," I said.  I got to my feet, donned my
wizard hat, and pointed my wand at a pile of crumpled up newspapers.  The array
engraved along its length glowed blue for an instant, then the newspapers
cracked with blue alchemic light.  A small puff of smoke exploded off them, and
when it cleared, an unadorned shaft of wood was there.  

Sloth picked it up and stared at it.  Then she reached into her own bag and
affixed a red stone to her wand.  She pointed it at the ground and a simple
alchemic array drew itself along the shaft.  When the design reached the red
stone, the array ignited, glowing red.  A block of stone rose out of the earth,
high enough to form a makeshift chair.  The design vanished from her wand when
the transmutation finished, leaving the wood bare again.  Sloth looked at what
she'd done, then threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.  

"It's not a perfect plan," I admitted once our lips parted.  "We'll need to
come up with alchemic equivalents for every spell, and anything that violates
equivalent exchange uses up red stone energy.  Your wand'll burn through it no
matter what since your alchemy's powered by the stone directly.  But if we can
set up a lab to make more stones, that shouldn't be a problem."  

Sloth smiled broadly.  "We can do this," she said, giggling with glee.  Then
she pointed her wand at the block she'd transmuted, the wand glowed red, and
the block merged back into the ground.  
                                     * * *


We got some food for Loki at an inn called the Leaky Cauldron and spent the
rest of the night reading next to the fireplace in the common area with Loki
curled up and sleeping at our feet.  The next day, it was time to go to the
train station.  

The three of us arrived at the train station with plenty of time to spare,
which was fortunate, since the platform our train was supposed to leave on was
nowhere to be found.  Asking other travelers prompted only strange looks.  

"We could see the Leaky Cauldron normally from outside," I reasoned aloud.  "If
they're using the same protections to keep muggles out, we should be able to
see the platform here."  

"We can't be the only travelers going to Hogwarts," said Sloth.  "Maybe we just
arrived to early.  I say we wait and keep an eye out for people with owl
cages.  I don't see anyone with one here, and they were on the list of approved
pets."  

So we waited near platform nine, watching for other travelers our apparent age
with odd pets.  As the hour of our departure approached, Sloth's plan paid
off.  A small family escorting a teenage traveler walked by.  An owl cage was
attached to the top of her luggage trolley.  As a group, they approached the
barrier separating platforms nine and ten, then passed through the apparently
solid matter there.  

Sloth, Loki, and I approached the barrier cautiously.  I reached out and
touched it, and saw my hand pass through.  I nodded to Sloth and stepped
through the barrier concealing platform 9 3/4.  A train bearing the prominent
nameplate "Hogwarts Express" was waiting.  Sloth and Loki followed shortly
after, and we quickly got our luggage loaded onto the train and settled into an
empty compartment.  

A few minutes later, the door to our compartment opened, revealing a pale,
blond boy flanked by a pair of other boys.  All the same age Sloth and I were
affecting.  

"I'm Draco Malfoy," declared the blond boy at the lead as though that should
mean something to us.  "This is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.  Who are
you?"  

"I'm Greed," I told him.  "This is Sloth."  

Draco stared for along moment before saying, "Those aren't your real names."  

"Nina Tucker," said Sloth.  

"Marcus Oren," I said, following suit.  

"You aren't supposed to be here," said Draco.  "This compartment is reserved."
 

Loki took exception to Draco's tone and growled low.  I put a hand on his head
to calm him.  

"You'd best keep that mutt under control," snapped Draco.  

I'd been getting ready to vacate the compartment until that point.  "You know,
I didn't see a reservation card when I got to this room..."  

"You don't know this yet," said Draco, "but the Malfoys are one of the oldest
and most powerful pureblood houses.  You don't want to make an enemy like me,
especially not on your first day at Hogwarts."  

"If you didn't want me as an enemy," I said, kicking my feet up and lounging as
I continued stroking Loki's head, "you shouldn't have threatened me."  

Draco looked between the two of us, then said, "I'll remember this."  Then he
signaled his companions and left.  

"You think this really was his compartment?" asked Sloth.  

"I doubt it," I said.  "He thought he could intimidate us into giving up our
room."  

"Probably," agreed Sloth.  "It was kind of funny seeing you posturing against
an eleven year old."  

"I'd have been dead a dozen times over if I wasn't willing to take a particular
four year old seriously," I reminded her.  

"So, I left you with some bad habits."  

A knock came at the door and an older woman pushing a cart opened it.  

"Honeydukes," said the woman cheerfully.  "Would you like to buy anything?  We
have chocolate frogs, every flavor beans, cauldron cakes, what would you like?"
 

"First, can you reserve a compartment?" asked Sloth.  

"I'm afraid not.  I know how crowded it is this year, but it's first come,
first serve."  

"Good to know," I said.  "How much is everything?"  

We bought a couple of each of the sweets to see what we'd end up liking.  I
opened up a bag of the every flavor beans and tried one, then immediately spat
it out.  

"Why would anyone make a jelly bean that literally tastes like dog shit?" I
exclaimed.  As I said it, Loki immediately scarfed down the bean I'd spit out.
 

"I guess they really mean it when they advertise 'every flavor'," said Sloth,
giggling at my misfortune.   Then she opened up one of the chocolate frogs
which leaped at her face.  She was so startled, Sloth reflexively went
intangible and the frog landed on the chair behind her.  She had to leap up to
stop from occupying the same space as the animated confectionery.  

Whatever had given it the ability to move quickly faded on opening the package,
and Sloth reported it tasted like ordinary chocolate.  In the package, we found
a card.  The face was unfamiliar, but that was to be expected.  The name,
however, was unmistakable.  Parcelsus Van Hohenheim.  

"We knew there were doubles of people in different worlds," said Sloth.  "They
usually had different lives."  

"There's a Philosopher's Stone in this world," I said.  "Even if it wasn't him,
someone made it."  

"Dumbledore seemed to imply there's only one," noted Sloth.  "Maybe they
learned the lesson the first time here."  

"I hope so," I said.  Then I blinked.  "Where did he go?"  I pointed at the
card with an empty picture where Hohenheim used to be.  

"Maybe the pictures wear off the same way the frog moving around wore off,"
suggested Sloth.  

As we stared at the blank card, the image of Hohenheim peaked into the frame.  

"Hello?" I asked the clearly moving picture.  

Hohenheim's image ducked back out of frame, then strolled back to the center
and resumed his previous pose.  He didn't respond to further inquiries.  In
fact, he seemed to be standing as stock still as a person pretending to be a
still photograph.  

"Excuse me," came a voice as our compartment door opened, causing Sloth and I
to jump.  A girl with bushy brown hair waited until she had our attention. 
"Have either of you seen a toad named Trevor?  A boy named Neville lost him."  

I darted a look back at the trading card and said, "We can finish this later." 
Then I turned to the girl and said, "We haven't seen a toad, but maybe we can
help.  Loki can track by scent."  

"That would be a big help.  Thank you.  My name's Hermione, by the way. 
Hermione Granger."  

"I go by Greed," I told her.  

"I'm Sloth."  

"You're named after sins?" asked Hermione.  

"It's what we like to be called," I said.  "We have regular names too.  Mine's
Marcus Oren."  

"Nina Tucker," said Sloth.  "Do you have anything with Trevor's scent?"  

"Neville should," replied Hermione.  "Follow me."  

Sloth, Loki, and I followed Hermione to where a nervous looking boy was asking
door to door after his missing toad.  

"Did you find Trevor?" asked Neville when he saw Hermione.  

"This is Loki," I said.  "He can find Trevor if you have anything with his
scent."  

Neville turned out his pockets and Loki sniffed them.  Turning about, Loki
caught the scent and took off down the corridor.  Sloth and I ran after, with
Neville and "Hermione coming after.  

Loki brought us three cars down and to the door leading to the luggage car,
where a terrified looking toad stared down my floppy-eared brown dog, who was
poking him with his nose.  

"Trevor!"  Neville exclaimed happily as he scooped up the toad.  "Thanks
Hermione.  And thank you..."  

"Greed," I supplied.  

"Sloth," she added extending a hand.  

Neville shifted the toad around to shake Sloth's hand, but that was all the
opening Trevor needed to make another escape attempt.  Hermione and I both dove
for the escaping toad and ended up colliding in the attempt.  When we got back
to our feet, Loki again had Trevor cornered for Neville to retrieve.  

"Um, thanks again," said Neville, embarrassed and apologetic.  

"Why don't we get Trevor to a compartment where we can close the door," I
suggested.  

"I didn't think students were allowed to have dogs at Hogwarts," said Hermione
on the way back to the compartment Sloth and I had defended from Draco.  

"Special permission from the headmaster," I said.  "We couldn't leave Loki
behind."  

"They've let folks have pets not on the list before," said Neville.  "It's
usually okay as long as they behave themselves."  

"I'm muggleborn, so this is all new to me," declared Hermione.  

"Us too," I said, indicating Sloth.  

"I'm not," said Neville, unsure of what to say.  

"Do you know what's going on with these cards?" I asked, holding up Hohenheim's
card to Neville.  

"Famous witch and wizard cards," he said.  "They come with chocolate frogs. 
Some folks collect them."  

"No," clarified Sloth.  "Why is he moving?"  

"Why wouldn't he be?" asked Neville, confused.  

"I've read about this," said Hermione, excited.  "Wizard photographs are
developed in a special potion that makes the people in them move around like
the person really would.  I hear Hogwarts is full of portraits that can talk as
well as move."  

"Do they know they're in a picture?" I asked.  

"The portraits do," said Neville.  "Photographs mostly just keep doing what
they were doing around the time the picture was taken.  Time doesn't really
move forward for them like it does for the portraits.  If it did, we wouldn't
use them for newspapers and other things you throw out."  

At that point, an announcement came through the train, "We will be reaching
Hogwarts in five minutes time.  Please leave your luggage on the train.  It
will be taken to the school separately."  

"I'm surprised you didn't know about the photographs," said Hermione while we
all gathered up our things.  "The recipe is in our potions textbook.  Haven't
you read it yet?  I've learned all my books by heart."  

"We got our books late," said Sloth.  "We only got the chance to buy our
supplies yesterday."  

"Why would your letters be late?" asked Hermione.  "I heard the own post is
very reliable, and surely the professors wouldn't want anyone coming
unprepared."  

"We're exchange students," I supplied.  "There must've been complications from
that."  

"Where are you from?" asked Neville.  

"It's a small country called Amestris," I replied.  "You've probably never
heard of it."  

We were spared any further questions on exiting the rain when a man larger than
Sig Curtis and Alex Loius Armstrong combined, wearing a thick black beard
called out, "First Years!  First years over here!  All right there, Harry?"  A
black haired boy wearing glasses nodded to him.  Then he continued calling,
"Come on, follow me!  Any more first years?  Mind your step now!  First years,
follow me!"  

The giant of a man separated the first year students out from the returning
students and led us down a path, away from the carriages, drawn by skeletal
horses with leathery bat-like wings, that the returning students were boarding.
 

At the end of the path was a massive lake.  A small fleet of boats was moored
at the path's end, and across the lake was a massive castle.   The castle was
perched on a mountain.  Sloth and I still hadn't learned to swim, so we were
nervous boarding the watercraft with Loki.  Neville and Hermione joined us.  

Once we were all aboard, the huge man ordered the boats, "Forward!" and they
pulled themselves across the lake.  Our fleet entered a hidden cave in the
mountain under the caste, and we disembarked at a small dock.  We were then
herded up a flight of stairs to a very heavy oak door.  It was opened by a
black haired woman wearing green robes.  

"First years," said the large man, introducing the woman, "Professor
McGonagall."  

"Thank you, Hagrid," acknowledged Professor McGonagall.  "I will take them from
here."  

She then led us to a cramped room off the entry hall.  Then she announced,
"Welcome to Hogwarts.  The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before
you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into hour Houses. 
The Sorting is a very important ceremony, because while you are here, your
House will be something like your family within Hogwarts.  You will have
classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend
free time in your House common room.  

"The four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.  Each
House has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and
wizards.  While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points,
while any rule breaking will lose House points.  At the end of the year, the
House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor.  I hope
each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.  

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of
the school.  I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while
you are waiting.  I shall return when we are ready for you.  Please wait
quietly."  

She left the room, and I heard Hermione wonder aloud which of the spells she'd
learned before the term that she'd need for the test they'd subject us to at
the Sorting.  There seemed little point worrying about it now.  Hopefully, we
could improvise with whatever came next.  

Unexpectedly, a pair of translucent, silvery figures floated through a wall in
the middle of a conversation amongst themselves.  On noticing us waiting there,
they greeted us.  The ghosts didn't have time to say much before Professor
McGonagall returned and ushered us out and into the Great Hall.  

I registered Dumbledore and Hagrid with a number of other odd looking people at
the faculty table.  Four long tables held students dressed in the same uniform
Sloth and I were wearing.  The hovering candles and clear view of the night sky
were no distraction from the silvery ghosts hovering over the tables.  Actual
ghosts.  Proof of an afterlife.  If we were found out as muggles in this
ceremony and kicked out, if we never recovered the Philosopher's Stone, this
trip was already worth it.  

Sloth's eyes were likewise on the ghosts, but she was less enthused.  It was
little wonder.  It'd take more study to confirm, but it was unlikely you could
become a ghost if you didn't have a soul.  

The first years were put in line and a battered wizard hat was put on a stool. 
Then a rip near the brim opened like a mouth and the hat began to sing.  

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are True
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk will use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The rest of the first years relaxed visibly on learning what the Sorting would
involve.  I got more worried.  I was a fully trained and certified State
Alchemist with a red stone.  I'd be able to fake some display of magic.  I
didn't have any way to keep a magic hat from plucking secrets out of my mind. 
And I had more than my share of dangerous secrets beyond the fact that I wasn't
a wizard.  

Students were called up in alphabetical order.  They put on the hat and it
called out one of the four Houses.  Sometimes it called out a House instantly,
other times it took a few minutes.  Still, it was a remarkably quick process,
even with each student cheered by their new House and going to join their
table.  Before I had time to come up with a plan, "Marcus Oren," was called.  

I glanced pleadingly at Dumbledore where he sat at the head table.  He nodded
pleasantly, but I had no idea what that meant.  I couldn't delay any longer, so
I picked up the hat, sat on the stool, and placed it on my head.  

"Not every day, I sort a student that's already got a background of sword-
fighting monsters," said a quiet voice inside the hat.  "Not to mention one
without a drop of magic in him, planning to fool every professor here.  Hard to
get more ambitious than that.  Don't worry, telling them about that isn't my
job.  If you can pull it off, good for you.  And your other secrets are safe
with me.  I'd be out of a job if I made a habit of telling what I see in the
Sortings."  

I breathed a sigh of relief.  

"Ah, there's your core," said the hat.  "Shouldn't be any surprise for you. 
Ravenclaw!"  

Only the last word had been audible to anyone else.  I took of the hat to see
the Ravenclaw table cheering me.  I replaced it on the stool and went to sit
down with my new housemates, who cheerfully congratulated me.  I shot a smile
and a nod to Sloth, who let Loki come to me at the table.  Dumbledore calmed a
momentary commotion at the head table, and the Sorting continued.  

Neville and Hermione had both already been Sorted into Gryffindor.  Whispers
came through the students with the name "Harry Potter" was called.  

"Is it really the Boy Who Lived?" asked one whisper.  

"They say he defeated You Know Who when he was just a baby," said a student
right next to me.  

"No," I replied.  "I don't know who."  

"The Dark Lord," he attempted to clarify for me.  "He Who Must Not Be Named."  

Getting frustrated, I asked, "Why must he not be named?"  

I didn't get an answer because a huge cheer erupted from the Gryffindor table. 
Someone was yelling, "We got Potter!  We got Potter!"  Hagrid at the head table
gave the boy a thumbs up.  This must've been the Harry he'd been asking after
at the train.  

A few more names were called, and I joined in greeting the new Ravenclaws.  A
few names later, they called out, "Nina Tucker!"  I was on the edge of my seat
while the hat seemed to be considering.  I wondered what it was telling her
about herself.  

"Hufflepuff!" called the hat.  After McGonagall's speech about the Houses,
Sloth seemed so much farther away than across the room as she removed the
Sorting Hat and joined her new housemates.  

The Sorting concluded shortly after, and Dumbledore greeted the students,
"Welcome!  Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!  Before we begin our banquet, I
wold like to say a few words.  And they are: Nitwit!  Blubber!  Oddment! 
Tweak!  Thank you!"  

As the old wizard sat down, the empty tables were instantly filled with food. 
There was no sound or crackle of energy.  The food was just not there one
instant and there the next.  It was intimidating how casually the other
students treated this.  

"Eat," suggested one of my neighbors.  "It's not going to hurt you."  

The roast did smell good, so I decided to worry about how this was possible
later.  The food was excellent, especially the roast beef.  I couldn't help but
notice slight irregularities in the food, consistent with it being hand made. 
Expertly hand made, but it didn't have things like potatoes all exactly the
same size that I associated with transmuted food.  

After everyone had eaten, the food vanished, leaving empty, immaculately clean
plates.  Then deserts appeared, the same way the main course had.  It was just
as expertly prepared.  When desert was finished, Dumbledore again rose to
speak.  

"Just a few more words now that we're all fed and watered.  I have a few start
of term notices to give you.  

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all
pupils.  And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as
well.  

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no
magic should be used between classes in the corridors.  

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term.  Anyone
interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.  

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the
right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very
painful death."  That only a few of the first years laughed told me he was
serious.  That must be where he was protecting the Philosopher's Stones.  

Dumbledore concluded by leading the school in a song, with a ribbon produced
from his wand forming the words for us to sing along with.  Then, the prefects
brought us out of the hall to our separate House dormitories.  I tried to hang
back and signal to Sloth, but the first years were being herded most
carefully.  We'd have to talk the next day.  

The castle was massive, filled with secret passages, twisting corridors, and
more staircases than there were students as far as I could tell.  Hermione had
been right about the portraits.  They watched our procession as we passed,
sometimes calling out greetings, sometimes following after us into neighboring
frames.  

The prefects led us up a spiral staircase to a door set with a brass eagle
knocker.  When they approached, it animated and asked, "What runs fastest when
it's standing perfectly still?"  

"Don't answer right away," warned one of the prefects.  "If you answer the
riddle wrong, you'll be locked out of the common room until someone else comes
and gets it right.  The riddle changes every day."  

"With a group this size," I noted, "each of us should be able to answer once
and the right answer gets the whole group inside, right?"  

"True," acknowledged the prefect, "but it's best to get used to stopping and
thinking about the riddle now so when you come up on your own, you'll be in the
habit."  

"An hourglass!" exclaimed one of the first years, happily.  "The sand doesn't
run down as quickly if you move it all about."  

The door swung open in acknowledgement of the correct answer.  Beyond was a
circular room with a star field printed on the ceiling.  Numerous chairs,
desks, tables, couches, and bookcases rested on the midnight blue carpet. 
Large windows overlooked the whole grounds.  I briefly switched to my purple,
slitted, homunculus eyes to verify that we had an excellent view in all
directions, which would be visible to human eyes when the sun came up. 
Likewise, the tall windows would provide a lot of natural light during the
day.  Some blue and bronze silks accented the room and made the large space
seem homier.  

The prefects ushered us up to our dormitories, which were separated out by
gender and year.  I found my trunk of books and supplies had been placed at the
foot of a four poster bed with a blue canopy and bedspread and bronze colored
pillows.  Loki quickly climbed up on the bed and curled up at the foot.  He was
asleep almost instantly.  

"You ate too many sausages at the feast," I told the sleeping dog fondly as I
opened up my trunk and verified everything was there.  

The other boys had collapsed into bed almost as fast as Loki had.  I retrieved
my wand and touched the red stone at the end of it to each of my schoolbooks,
and then to my temple.  The contents of each book poured into my mind.  I
hadn't had the time the other students had with their books so far, but using a
red stone to instantly assimilate them let me catch up to Hermione, at least
where the required textbooks were concerned.  That done, I closed my trunk and
went to bed myself.  
                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Welcome to the sequel to the Iron Sole Alchemist.  Our interdimensional
travelers will soon find that even without magic of their own, Hogwarts has
much to teach them. 
***** Settling In *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 2) Settling In
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


The next day, I left the common room for the Great Hall early, hoping to get
the chance to talk with Sloth at breakfast before classes started.  I should
have waited to go down with the other students.  The staircases we'd taken to
the Ravenclaw tower weren't where they'd been last night.  One of the portraits
helpfully informed me that those stairs would be back Friday.  I stumbled into
a dozen dead ends and circled back on myself half as many times.  I was on the
verge of deconstructing a stuck door out of frustration when the Grey Lady, the
Ravenclaw House Ghost, floated by, told me I had to tickle that door to get it
open, then gave me directions to the Great Hall.  

"Where have you been?" asked Sloth, coming over from the Hufflepuff table to
greet me at the door.  "The other Ravenclaws arrived ten minutes ago."  

"I got lost," I admitted.  "This place is huge, and the layout changes."  

"The food's already out," said Sloth, indicating the tables.  "You and Loki get
something to eat.  We should get together outside after classes."  

We returned to our respective tables, and I handed some bacon down to Loki
while getting myself a bowl of porridge.  I'd just taken my first bite when a
swarm of owls filled the room.  One of them dropped a letter in my lap.  It was
from Dumbledore.  I was to come to his office Friday afternoon, after classes. 
I folded the letter into my potions book for later.  

Traveling with the other Ravenclaws, I made it to my first class in time. 
Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.  The class opened with a brief
safety lecture.  Afterward, I nearly panicked when she turned her desk into a
pig.  Fortunately, that wasn't going to be our first assignment, but rather was
just a demonstration of what could be done with this type of magic.  I could
duplicate that with alchemy, but only boosted with a red stone, and even then
it would be difficult.  

The lecture portion of the class reinforced what I'd absorbed from the
textbook.  The rules of transfiguration were very different from alchemy.  Like
alchemy, living things were harder than nonliving, but that was where the
similarity ended.  Transfiguration worked by imposing patterns on things. 
Rather than understanding the structure and composition of the source and
destination material, transfiguration relied on recognizing similarities
between the source and destination objects.  

Finally, Professor McGonagall passed out matches and told us to try to turn
them into needles.  Wood into metal, a violation of equivalent exchange that
would force me to use a red stone.  For the first and simplest exercise in this
class.  I signed, clapped my hands, and grasped my wand, who's array
reconfigured slightly in my hand to allow for the transmutation.  

With the match on my desk, I pointed the wand at it.  The transmutation array
glowed blue for an instant, and the match turned into a sewing needle.  

"Oh my, Mr. Oren," declared Professor McGonagall.  "I don't believe I've ever
seen such a perfectly done transfiguration on the first try.  Five points to
Ravenclaw!"  

I glanced around and saw that no one else's match had so much as changed
color.  In my efforts not to look like a muggle, I'd overcompensated.  For the
whole class, mine was the only match that had even slightly changed, in a room
full of frustrated wizard children.  

To my relief, the next class was Herbology, where we studied how to grow and
make use of various plants with magical properties.  Since the magic was in the
plants and not the students, I didn't need to sue my counterfeit wand. 
Professor Sprout, a shorter, stockier witch, had a passion for the subject.  

Working in the soil reminded me I'd need to set up a place to grow
Philosopher's Flowers to replace the red stones I used up in classes here.  I
stayed after to ask Professor Sprout about how to order growth lamps, with the
half-true excuse that I wanted to set up a garden when I got back from
Hogwarts, and I couldn't set it up outside.  She happily suggested a supplier
and directed me to the owlery where I could send a letter.  

I sent off a messenger owl to the Herbology supplier Professor Sprout
recommended, along with enough gold coins to furnish a large garden with
lights.  The detour to the owlery meant separating from my classmates, so I had
to find my way through the labyrinthine castle to my history of magic class.  

My foot had gone through a disappearing stair, and I'd wasted ten minutes
trying to get a door opened that turned out to just be a strangely decorated
section of wall when I saw a wastebasket hovering on its own exiting a
classroom.  Hoping it was being carried by a friendly ghost I could ask for
directions, I called out, "Hello!  Can you tell me how to get to Professor
Binns' class?  I think I'm already late."  

There was a popping sound,, and a short man with a mouth just a bit too wide to
be human appeared, hovering in the air, holding the wastebasket.  A malevolent
grin spread across his face.  "Little firstie doesn't know me yet."  Then he
swooped toward me at high speed, overturned the wastebasket on my head and hit
it three times, ringing it like a bell.  

"The name's Peeves!" he yelled as he rocketed down the hall away from me.  

"So, not a friendly ghost," I said to Loki, who hadn't had time to move until
Peeves was out of sight.  "Poltergeist?" I guessed, the name coming to my mind
from the defense against the dark arts textbook.  

When I finally found Professor Binns' classroom, he was already in the middle
of a lecture.  Binns had apparently died some time ago, but he was spending his
afterlife teaching.  His lecturing style was monotonous and droning.  I was
able to find my place in the textbook, but Binns' style made the feats of great
wizards and goblin wars seem boring and mundane.  It was quickly made clear I
hadn't missed much from the lecture, and that I'd be better off learning the
material on my own.  

                                     * * *


History of magic was my last class for the day, so after class let out, I
headed for the grounds.  I played a game of fetch with Loki while we waited for
Sloth.  She showed up a half hour later and plopped down on the grass.  

"You didn't warn me school involved taking so many notes," sighed Sloth.  

"You're ready to quit after your first day?" I asked.  

"No," she said, "but did they have to assign homework on the first day?"  

"For most of them, they've been going to school for years now," I said. 
"You'll get used to it."  

Sloth sat up and asked, "Did you hear about that Gryffindor boy?  Harry
Potter?"  

"The person I asked at the feats was being evasive.  What's so special about
Harry Potter?"  I tossed the stick for Loki again.  

"The wizards fought a war against a dark wizard over a decade ago.  A lot of
the students here lost their families in it.  People still don't like saying
the dark wizard's name.  It's Voldemort, by the way.

"Anyway, this dark wizard went after Harry's parents, killed them both, but
somehow when he tried to kill Harry, something went wrong.  Harry ended up with
that scar on his forehead and the dark wizard hasn't been seen since.  They
call him the Boy Who Lived."  

"Huh," I said, tossing the stick again.  "Think it has anything to do with
whoever's after the Stone?"  

Sloth shrugged.  "It's been ten years, but this is Harry Potter's first year at
Hogwarts.  Who knows?"  

"That reminds me, did you get a note from Dumbledore at breakfast?"  

Sloth nodded.  "He did say something about Occlumency lessons.  On top of the
rest of our course load."  

I leaned over and whispered, "Did you want an imprint of our textbooks?  I used
a red stone to assimilate them last night."  

"You cheater!" she exclaimed, smiling.  "Of course I want it."  

I clapped my hands, then put my arm around her.  With my palm flat against
Sloth's back, where the oroboros mark was hidden under her robe, I implanted
full comprehension of our textbooks into her mind.  

"That won't mean less homework," I said, pulling her close against me, "but it
ought to make that homework easier."  

Sloth leaned her head against my shoulder and closed her eyes.  "Can we stay
like this for a while?  I've missed you."  

"I've missed you too, Sloth."  

We sat there for a long while, Loki soon curling up at our feet.  

"I ordered us some growth lamps for our Philosopher's Flowers," I said.  "I
think we can set up a lab on the grounds.  Maybe under the stadium over that
way," I gestured.  

"That'll be nice," murmured Sloth.  "Our own private getaway."  

A little while later, I said, "We don't want to be late for dinner."  

"We don't need to eat," Sloth reminded me without moving.  

"No, but Loki does," I reminded her in turn.  "Come on, let's walk to the Great
Hall together."  

We stood, Sloth stretched, and we walked hand in hand through the castle.  Once
inside, we reluctantly parted, our fingers lingering, and we went to our
separate tables.  

"What're you doing with that Hufflepuff girl?" asked one of the Ravenclaw boys
at my table when I sat down.  

"I don't see how that's any of your business," I said.  

"Let Filch catch you snogging in the halls and he'll make it his business.  And
you'll be lucky all you lose is the points you got showing off in
transfiguration."  

"Showing off?" I asked.  "Those are House points.  Don't you want to win the
cup?"  

"Forget it," huffed the boy.  Then he dug into his food so I wouldn't talk to
him further.  

"You're still on my side, aren't you, Loki?" I asked while bribing him with
pork chops.  

                                     * * *


I reached the Ravenclaw common room after only three tries.  At the door, the
brass eagle knocker asked, "What runs but never walks?"  

I thought through a dozen magical creatures from my defense book before I
smacked my forehead and answered, "water."  Then I walked in, sat down at one
of the desks, and got the day's homework out of the way.  

After that, I picked a book off a shelf in the common room, curled up in a
chair, and read with Loki curled up at my feet until the other first years
started heading for bed. I was trying to pass as normal, so that meant not
demonstrating I didn't need to sleep.  

                                     * * *


I thought to ask a prefect today's route to the Great Hall, and as a result,
arrived in time to see the food appear on the table again.  Loki happily
gobbled down what I passed to him.  I was grateful his body was designed with a
resilient digestive system, since so much rich food would make a normal dog
sick.  

To my delight, when the owls arrived carrying the mail, four of them brought a
brown, wrapped package and dropped it on the table in front of me.  I tore open
the brown paper revealing my grow lamps.  The advertising on the package
promised that they could be used to grow plants or drive off vampires.  I was
just looking for the instructions for getting them set up when a hand gripped
my arm and yanked me to my feet.  

"You're in a lot of trouble," declared Filch with sadistic glee.  "Special
permission from the headmaster or no, a dog bites a student, it gets put down. 
And hopefully its owner expelled."  

I drew my wand reflexively as I said, "Loki didn't bite anyone and you're not
going to hurt him!"  

Filch's grin widened as he snatched the wand out of my hand.  "The Malfoy boy
says he did, and he's got the marks on his arm to prove it.  Now, come with me,
and bring the animal with you."  

"Where are you taking us?" I demanded.  

"Your head of house needs to hear about this and decide your punishment," he
replied with that nasty grin.  

I had a spare red stone in my pocket.  If I had to make a fight of it, the wand
Filch took wouldn't make a difference.  I told Loki to stay calm as Filch
roughly dragged me out of the Great Hall.  Hopefully I'd have a chance to plead
my case and avoid violence.  One way or the other, though, I wasn't going to
lose my dog again.  

I hadn't met Professor Flitwick yet, and these certainly weren't the best
circumstances.  He was even shorter than I was, and his office was set up to
accommodate him, including a stepladder up to his chair.  

"Mr. Filch," greeted Flitwick in a high, squeaky voice, "what brings you here?"
 

"This dog," Filch hammed his thumb in Loki's direction, "bit the Malfoy boy.  I
saw the marks on his arm myself.  His little friends backed up his story."  

"Loki didn't bite Malfoy and I can prove it," I said loud enough to break into
the conversation.  

"You're Marcus Oren, aren't you?" asked Flitwick warmly.  "McGonagall's still
raving about that transfiguration.  Says you have a rare gift."  

Filch didn't like how this conversation was going and tried to get it back on
track.  "That animal needs to be put down before it attacks again."  

"Professor," I said, "can I show you why Loki couldn't have put those marks on
Draco's arm?"  

Flitwick nodded, and I gave Loki a signal.  Blue alchemic light poured off the
arrays hidden under the dog's brown fur.  The stone under his feet broke down
as the transmutation used it to add mass to Loki's body.  In moment,s a small
crater was in the middle of the floor of Flitwick's office, and Loki had
tripped in size.  His body was now armored with thick green scales, and he
sported a golden leonine mane.  

Faster than the eye could follow, Loki had tackled Filch to the ground, pinning
his arms down under massive paws.  Claws sharp enough to sever Filch's arms
outright had been carefully placed where the only damage they'd do was leave a
set of gouges in the stone floor.  Jaws large enough and with enough bite
pressure to shatter his skull were an inch from Filch's face.  Loki's massive,
club-like tail lazily corrected itself after counterbalancing from the pounce.
 

"Loki can't help but change like that," I explained.  "If he'd bit Draco, Draco
wouldn't still have an arm."  

I retrieved my wand from where it had skidded out of Filch's hand then signaled
Loki to let Filch up.  

"Well, I'm convinced," declared Professor Flitwick, applauding at the display.
 

"That mangy thing could've killed me," complained Filch as he got to his feet.
 

"Loki is extremely healthy, and extremely well trained," I said, running my
fingers through the fur of his golden mane.  "You weren't in any danger."  

"Perhaps you ought to find out what really bit the Malfoy boy," suggested
Flitwick.  "And make sure he sees Madam Pomfrey."  

Filch grumbled and left.  

"I'm sorry about your floor," I said, glancing at the crater Loki'd left
transforming.  

"That?" replied Flitwick.  "Think nothing of it.  Hardly the worst damage this
office has suffered over the years."  Professor Flitwick drew his wand, pointed
it at the hole and called out, "Repairo!"  The floor smoothed over as if Loki
had never made that hole.  

"Do you have a spell for cleaning up the leftover material when he changes
back?" I asked.  

When Flitwich nodded, I stroked Loki soothingly and blue light poured from
between his armored scales.  He shrank down, leaving a pile of organic residue,
and emerged once again as my floppy eared brown dog.  

"Evanesco!" called out Flitwick and the residue vanished.  "Have you introduced
that extraordinary dog to our groundskeeper Rubeus Hagrid?  He has an
exceptional fondness for animals like that."  

"I'll do that," I said.  

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, you're in my next charms class.  Why don't you come
along with me?"  

                                     * * *


Afer taking attendance, Professor Flitwick demonstrated a charm to make objects
levitate.  I'd apparently have time to figure out how to do that with alchemy,
as he had the class set down our wands and practice pronouncing the
incantation.  As he corrected our emphasis, Flitwick told stories about wizards
who mispronounced their spells.  

Next up was Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Professor Quirrel was a nervous
young man with a large purple turban and a stutter that got worse when he
talked about dark creatures and curses.  He was in no real condition to correct
anyone's pronunciation of curses or countercurses, so instead he assigned
readings and hoped no one had questions.  I ended up using the period to work
out how to transmute some of the material inside a person's nose to pure
histamine, to emulate a runny nose hex the book mentioned.  

                                     * * *


Defence was my last class for the day, so I took Loki outside to play and wait
for Sloth.  Draco found us first.  Crabe and Goyle were flanking him.  I gave
Loki a signal to stay out of whatever happened.  

"There's the mudblood and his dog," said Draco to his goons.  "I don't know how
you convinced Filch that flea-bitten mutt of yours was innocent, but-"

"But nothing," I interrupted.  "Did you fake those bite marks yourself to frame
Loki?  Well, you failed.  It's over."  

"I think we still have business," said Draco.  Crabe cast a sideways glance at
where Loki was laying and watching before he moved with Goyle to surround me.  

"Loki won't harm a hair on your head without my say so," I told Crabe.  "And
I'd rather keep this between us.  So do what you're going to do with me, but I
see you make one move on Loki, I'll rip off your legs and feed them to you."  

"Big talk for a foreign mudblood," taunted Draco.  "You think you can make good
on it when it's three on one?"  

I shook my head.  "As long as it stays three on one, you don't need to find
out."  

At a signal from Draco, Goyle grabbed my arm and tried to twist it behind my
back.  My arm didn't move.  It was nice being the inhuman monster whit
superhuman strength.  I extended my other arm out to Crabe.  

"You want to try?" I asked with a smirk.  

At a signal from Draco, Crabe took the outstretched arm and tried to twist it
behind me.  Slowly, so as not to injure Goyle, I raise the arm he was wrestling
with until it matched the one I'd offered Crabe.  

"Now that your goons have me restrained, do you feel safe enough to try a
punch?" I asked.  

Draco signaled Crabe and Goyle, who ceased their futile efforts to pin me. 
Then Draco said, "Scrapping like a muggle, this is beneath my dignity.  I
challenge you to a proper wizard's duel."  

"I refuse," I said simply.  "I've got nothing to prove to you."  

"Maybe instead we'll go see that little Hufflepuff girl," Draco sneered.  

I laughed at him.  "Good luck with that.  She isn't near as shy about throwing
a punch as I am."  

Draco, Crabe, and Goyle scurried off, and I got back to chasing Loki around the
yard while we waited for Sloth.  She arrived a few minutes later.  

"Are you okay, Greed?" she asked at once.  "After you got grabbed by Filch this
morning, no one knew what happened to you."  

"Remember Draco?  The blond kid from the train?  He tried to get Loki in
trouble as payback.  If he shows up with his goons, try not to hurt them too
bad.  We don't want to get expelled."  

"I think I can manage that," she said.  "Other than Filch, how was your day?"  

"It was pretty good, Filch included," I told her.  "Professor Flitwick
suggested I show Loki off to the groundskeeper once I showed him Draco was
lying.  I was going to go after dinner.  Want to come?"  

"I'd love to," said Sloth.  

                                     * * *


The groundskeeper lived in a small wooden house on the far side of the
grounds.  Loki trotted alongside Sloth and I as we made our way out there.  A
heavy crossbow leaned against the wall near the door.  I knocked.  

Loud barks came from inside the house, and Loki responded in kind, which
further excited the dog inside.  

"Hang on," called Hagrid.  "Back, Fang.  Back."  

"Loki, quiet," I ordered, and my companion silenced himself.  His tail was
still wagging.  

The door opened, and the enormous man with the tick black beard opened the
door, holding a dog slightly larger than Loki in his current form, by its
collar.  

"Hello," said Hagrid.  "Something I can do for you?"  

"Professor Flitwick said you were an animal lover," I said.  "He thought you'd
like to meet my dog, Loki."  

A smile formed under Hagrid's thick beard, and he said, "Come in."  

Sloth, Loki, and I stepped inside the one room cabin, and Hagrid released
Fang.  The big dog practically tackled Sloth and I, planting slippy wet kisses
on our faces before he started circling and sniffing at Loki.  

"Thanks for coming," Hagrid said.  "Fang's been so lonely since Fluffy left. 
Can I get you some tea?"  

"Thank you.  My name is Sloth by the way," she introduced herself.  

"And I'm Greed," I added.  

"Everyone calls me Hagrid," he replied companionably as he started a fire for
the tea.  "You're first year students, aren't you?"  

We nodded.  

"How're you liking your classes?" he asked, making conversation as the dogs got
to know each other.  

"I've never had so much homework," said Sloth.  

"Yeah, that'll just get worse as you go on," warned Hagrid.  "Just wait until
it's time to take your OWLs."  

"Our whats?" I asked.  

"Ah, you're muggleborn students, aren't you?"  

"That's right," I said.  

"Ain't nothing wrong with that.  Way I hear it, the two top students in
transfiguration this year are muggleborns."  

"So, OWLs?" I asked while Sloth snickered at my embarrassment.  

"Oh yeah," said Hagrid.  "In your fifth year, the Ministry sends someone down
to test you on all the subjects you study.  The better your OWLs, the more jobs
you can do when you leave Hogwarts."  

"If that happens in fifth year," asked Sloth, "what are the next two years
for?"  

"That's to get ready for your NEWTs."  

"Another test?" I guessed.  

Hagrid nodded and shoved a cup of tea at Sloth and I.  We accepted and drank. 
It was a strong tea.  Hagrid offered some hard biscuits with raisins that went
well with the tea. I was, however, pretty sure they were too hard for a human
jaw.  

While we had tea, I noticed a newspaper clipping on a table.  It was about the
Gringotts breakin that had been mentioned while we were being interrogated in
relation to the Philosopher's Stone.  

"Gringotts is a bank," I said.  "Do they buy gold?"  

"Of course they buy gold at Gringotts," said Hagrid.  "What do you think they
make galleon coins out of?"  

"They mint the coins at Gringotts?" asked Sloth.  

"That's right," said Hagrid.  "You two find a big lump of gold somewhere?"  

"Just trying to get my bearings," I said.  "We just found out about all this a
few days ago."  

"Ah, you're the exchange students Dumbledore let in late.  McGonagall gave him
an earful about that.  Great man, Albus Dumbledore."  

"Thank you for the tea," I said, returning his cup.  Then I smiled.  "I think
Professor Flitwick wanted me to show you Loki's big trick.  Is there a place in
the yard you don't care gets messed up?"  

Hagrid led us and Fang out toward a torn up area behind his house.  At my
signal, Loki transformed into his green scaled, gold maned chimera form.  Fang
bolted back into the house whimpering in terror.  

"Ruddy coward," commented Hagrid.  "You are gorgeous."  He ruffled Loki's mane
and pulled up his lips to admire his teeth.  "I don't think I've ever seen
anything like you before.  Where'd you find him at?"  

"Half starved in an abandoned lab," I told him.  "We've been inseparable ever
since."  

"He is just a sweetheart, isn't he?" said Hagrid.  

"Flitwick was right about you," I said.  "He said you'd be happy to meet him."
 

                                     * * *


It was dark by the time I got back to Ravenclaw tower.  Fang had come back
after Loki changed back, and the two dogs had played until late.  

"What is in the middle of the middle, and the end of the end?" asked the brass
eagle knocker guarding the door.  

I groaned and asked Loki, "I don't suppose you know this one?"  

In response, he laid down on the stairs, resting his head on his folded paws.  

"Didn't think so," I sighed, then focused on the riddle.  A moment later, I
said, "The letter 'D'" and the door opened.  

The other students had gone to bed.  I was about to go up to the dorm myself
when I noticed one of my grow lamps that arrived at breakfast hidden partway
behind a sofa.  I sighed again and set to work searching the common room for
the rest of them.  I'd just finished securing the last of them in my trunk when
it was time to get up and go down to the Great Hall for breakfast.  

When I caught sight of the Ravenclaw boy who'd been giving me trouble the other
day, I greeted him, saying, "Thanks for bringing up my growth lamps yesterday. 
Filch might've confiscated them if you'd just left them there."  

Then I headed down for breakfast, getting lost only twice, and stuck for a few
minutes at a door that opened once I asked politely.  I ended up arriving
around the same time as the other Ravenclaws.  I left it mysterious why I was
so awake, alert, and cheerful.

                                     * * *


Today was a full day of not having to worry about my wand.  Herbology class was
this morning in the greenhouse, then a long free period, since astronomy was
scheduled for midnight.  Once the Herbology class let out, I went to the school
library looking for anything I could find on the school's construction and
floor plan.  

The librarian, Madam Pince, proved more concerned with keeping the books safe
than she did about anyone finding anything, so I was left to navigate the
foreign filing system on my own.  That was a particular problem, since the
Hogwarts library eclipsed the State Alchemist's library in Central, even before
you factored in the roped off restricted section.  As a result, it wasn't until
dinner time that I managed to verify that the school didn't have any corridors
or passageways running under the Quidditch field.  

I managed to catch Sloth at the entrance to the Great Hall and let her know to
meet me out in the Quidditch field an hour before bed.  Then I got Loki fed and
tasted some of the more appetizing morsels myself.  The Ravenclaw boy, who's
name I was deliberately avoiding learning at this point, left me alone to eat
in peace.  

I headed up to the Ravenclaw tower after eating, answered the knocker's riddle,
"What is better than the best and worse than the worst?" with "Nothing,"
retrieved my growth lamps, and waited in the common room with my feet up on
them reading the directions and making sure I knew what I was doing.  Other
students came and went.  Some headed up for the dormitories to get some sleep. 
Others hung around in the common room doing homework or socializing. 
Eventually, it was time to meet Sloth.  I gathered my lamps and headed out.  

Quidditch trails wouldn't be held until next week, so no one was holding
practices yet.  In the black school robes, it was hard picking Sloth out of a
crowd.  She usually found me thanks to Loki.  This time, though, she was
waiting alone, leaning against one of the poles that held up the elevated
rings.  

"I verified there aren't any structures under here," I told Sloth.  "Nothing's
even close.  We should be safe to set up here."  

"What're we going to do when they're actually playing Quidditch here?" Sloth
asked.  

"We travel underground and avoid the crowds," I said.  She smiled.  

I walked to the center of the field.  As good a landmark as any, and I stomped
my foot.  The transmutation circle on the bottom of my shoe glowed blue, and a
tunnel opened in he grass nearby, accompanied by a few blue sparks.  Sloth
climbed down first and I handed her down the growth lamps.  Loki went down
after, Sloth helping him down the carved granite ladder I'd transmuted. 
Finally, I made my way down, stopping halfway down to point my wand at the
tunnel wall and seal the entrance.  It ought to be impossible to detect from
the surface.  Even the grass would be back in place.  

As I feared, the electric lights I'd transmuted out of trace elements in the
soil didn't work.  Sloth held up one of the growth lamps for me while I made my
way to the generator room.  I clapped my hands and touched the wall.  The
entire structure glowed blue as transmutation circles drew themselves along the
walls and ceiling.  The generator itself reconfigured into a small, cylindrical
tank.  Then, the light of the transmutation faded, leaving us again with just
the lamp Sloth was carrying.  I dropped a red stone from my pocket into the
tank and the arrays all lit up again and stayed glowing blue.  

"You just love to show off," teased Sloth.  

"The enchantments on the castle reminded me of Hohenheim's arrays protecting
the Stone," I said.  "These'll stave off or repair minor cracks and damage,
refresh the air, and shed light while they're doing it."  

"How long'll that stone last powering all that?" asked Sloth.  

"I don't know," I admitted.  "But we can turn it all off when we leave like
this."  I poked a single dark circle with my fingertip, which flared blue for
an instant, then the lab fell dark.  I touched the array again and the lights
came back on.  

"And the growth lamps you bought can stay on the whole time," said Sloth. 
"This should work."  

"I'll set up the lamps while you plant the seeds," I offered.  We left Loki in
the living area, passed through the airlock, and started setting things up in
the garden area.  Soon, everything was ready for us to order the chemicals we
needed and start making red stones.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Attending high school, even a magical one, is a new experience for both our
travelers.  Fortunately, with their hidden lab, they have a place where they
can let their hair down. 
***** Romantic Interlude 10 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 3) Romantic Interlude 10
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 4.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


"We might be able to make it back to our common rooms before it's time to be in
bed," I said once we finished setting up the lab.  

Sloth shook her head.  "We'd set out, get lost, and get caught by Filch. 
Besides, this is the first real privacy we've had since coming here."  

"I'll admit," I said smiling, "the thought had crossed my mind that I didn't
need to be at my astronomy class for a couple hours."  

We were in each other's arms with our lips locked together and our hands
groping one another's new bodies the first second.  Our clothes were in a pile
at our feet the second second.  

Since we were the same height, we didn't need to break our kiss as we stumbled
toward the bedroom.  I'd reproduced everything from my first lab where we'd
originally consummated our relationship, including the mirror along one wall. 
I kicked the door closed and we tumbled into bed.  

I'd designed the body Sloth was now wearing, but this was my first chance to
admire it in detail.  Her legs were long, thin, and smooth, ending in slightly
oversized feet.  Her chest was flat, though her nipples were slightly more
prominent than in her original form.  I ran my hands over her round, firm butt
and her smooth, hairless crotch.  

Meanwhile, Sloth was enthusiastically exploring my new bod.  One hand was
gripping my butt at all times as Sloth ran the other down my bare chest,
lingering on the oroboros mark in the center.  I felt long fingers wrap around
the shaft of my erect penis, and I broke our continuing kiss to gasp in
pleasure.  

I latched on and started sucking on one of Sloth's nipples while she stroked my
penis.  I reciprocated by putting a hand between her legs and fondling her
labia.  We groped and stroked each other for a while before Sloth squeezed my
penis hard to get my attention.  

"I'll bet with us both the same size like this, I can get the whole thing in my
mouth while it's hard."  She licked her lips for emphasis and I released my
mouth from her nipple and moved to accommodate her.  

Sloth shifted so I could see her pert ass in the mirror as she gently kissed
the tip of my penis.  Running her tongue in a circle around the head, Sloth
continued to grip the shaft firmly.  I let out a moan of approval.  Applying a
little bit of suction, Sloth began to take my penis into her mouth.  As it went
in, she made adjustments using her curled tongue.  

I felt the tip of my penis bump into the back of Sloth's throat just as her
lips sealed around the base of the shaft.  My lover happily bobbed her head,
pulling back until only the head of my penis was still in her mouth, and
sucking the rest back in.  

"That feels so good," I exclaimed, still looking at her butt in the mirror. 
"Don't stop!"  

Sloth picked up the pace, teasing the tip of my penis with her tongue on her
back swing.  The first spurt of my ejaculate shot straight down her throat. 
With her mouth bigger and my penis smaller, it took more semen to fill her
mouth.  She took full advantage of that, sucking hard on my penis to keep me
cumming and swallowing large mouthfuls on her back swing.  Whenever I felt
close to being spent, I used a tiny bit of regeneration energy from the red
stones in my body.  I was determined to let my lover drink her fill.

Eventually, Sloth stopped swallowing, but she didn't stop sucking, so I
continued to spurt ejaculate into her quickly filling mouth.  As her mouth
filled, Sloth removed my penis inch by inch, pumping with one hand to maintain
the flow of semen.  Finally, she popped my penis out of her mouth, pumping
furiously with her hand, and I let myself cumming on her bangs and plaster shut
her right eye.  

Sloth leaned back against the mirror while I breathed heavily after the
supernaturally prolonged orgasm.  With her cheeks puffed out from the sperm in
her mouth, she met my eyes with the one of hers that would open, and opened her
mouth in a broad, toothy grin.  Semen spilled out of her mouth, down her chin,
and decorated her beautiful, flat chest.  There were tiny bubbles on her lips,
and her cum stained teeth glistened.  

"Yum," she said, gurgling slightly at the start of the word and sending more of
my sperm down her chin.  Sloth rubbed her stomach approvingly.  

"That was great," I told her as I started groping her inner thighs.  "Now it's
your turn to lean back."  

I put my head between Sloth's legs and started kissing my way up from her
knees.  Those longer legs translated to a longer build of anticipation.  Her
crotch was soaking wet by the time I ran my tongue up her slit and gave her
clit a flick.  I sealed my lips around Sloth's pubic mound and pressed into her
vagina with my tongue.  My smaller tongue meant I couldn't get as deep as she
was used to, so I compensated with increased focus on her clitoris as I
squeezed her round butt cheeks in both hands.  I knew I'd found my rhythm when
Sloth's hips started thrusting into my face as I licked her.  

With my hands on her butt, I alternated between applying suction on her clit
and flicking my tongue between her vaginal opening and her clitoris.  I felt
Sloth's hands on the back of my head as she reached her climax.  She guided me
as best she could, and where ever she directed me towards got extra attention,
but in the throes of a prolonged orgasm herself, Sloth's muscle control was far
from perfect.  I found the increasing pitch of her cries a more useful guide
than the hands on my head.  

I licked, and swallowed, and tasted, and I couldn't help but end up with my
lover's juices all over my face.  The fact that I didn't need to come up for
air and that my tongue didn't cramp let me keep pace with Sloth's demands and
continue to pleasure her through an orgasm at least as long as mine had been.  

When Sloth let go of my head and let exhaustion take her, I crawled up her
naked body to look her eye to eye.  Her flat chest rose and fell from heavy
breaths taken through semen soaked lips.  She met my gaze and said, "That was
wonderful, Greed/"  

"I'm glad you liked it," I said, touching her crotch where she was still
sensitive in the afterglow.  

She gasped and said, "Not there.  No more tonight.  I'm all tingly and I want t
o stay that way for a while.  You can put it in my butt if you want to."  Sloth
blushed as she made the offer.  

"I'd like that," I said, helping Sloth get on her hands and knees.  Then I
planted a kiss on one of her firm, round butt cheeks and started kissing my way
up her hack to the oroboros mark near her shoulder.  She moaned long and low at
the sheer intimacy as my lips touched the mark itself.  

Then I leaned back and looked down on her whole body posed for me and waiting. 
My erection had long since returned, and I guided it between Sloth's butt
cheeks with one hand as I placed the other on her hip.  I heard her gasp in
anticipation as the tip of my penis touched her anus.  

I licked my lips that still tasted of her vaginal secretions as I saw her
tongue hanging out of her mouth in the mirror, still covered in my semen.  I
gripped her narrow hips and pushed my erect penis into her butt hole.  I felt
momentary resistance, then Sloth unclenched and let me in.  

Sloth was still wearing the half-dreaming expression of afterglow, my semen
dripping off her lolling tongue as I penetrated her anally.  Thanks to us being
about the same size, I managed to plunge my entire penis inside her, my hips
slapping against her butt cheeks.  Sloth's breathing started to come in time
with my thrusts, but it was hard to tell if she was even aware of what was
happening otherwise.  

I started to cum inside her ass, and Sloth's blissful, open-mouthed, drooling
smile widened visibly as she felt the heat of my sperm inside her.  I pushed in
and out, cumming into Sloth's ass as much as I'd spurted into her mouth
earlier.  Once I was satisfied, I let myself deplete and pulled my penis out
from between her butt cheeks.  To my delight, once my penis was out, the
sticky, white fluid I'd filled her with started leaking out of Sloth's anus.  

We both laid down next to one another and basked in the afterglow of our sexual
escapades, breathing heavily and wearing nothing but one another's ejaculate
and matching stupid grins.  I put my hand on her stomach and felt as Sloth's
spasming anus gradually expelled some of the semen I'd filled her with on to
the bed beneath her.  

"Well, this is going to make it hard to concentrate in astronomy class," I told
her.  

"I don't know what you're complaining about," she replied with a wry grin. 
"I'm the one who's butt cheeks are going to be stuck together all day."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
And thus the real school experience gets started, complete with sneaking off
behind the backs of the chaperones someplace private. 
***** Further Lessons *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 4) Further Lessons
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Sloth and I parted ways, and I found my way through the school to the astronomy
tower.  It was a subject that had never particularly interested me.  When I was
following Leto, the sun was a god to be worshiped, and when I studied alchemy,
it was a mass of burning hydrogen too distant to do anything with.  It still
wasn't particularly interesting, but I'd managed to study actually
objectionable material before, so I could get through unstimulating.  Besides
which, I still wasn't sure how much I'd need wandless classes like this to
bolster my grade average once things got more serious in Charms,
Transfiguration, and Defense.  

The next day was charms and transfiguration again.  This time Flitwick had the
whole class practice wand grips and motions.  In transfiguration, I got the
chance to see what a partially successful transfiguration looked like.  Between
the two classes, it became very clear that I couldn't afford to make mistakes. 
Partially successful results would be just as difficult to emulate with alchemy
as successful ones, and the teachers would notice if my wand movement or
pronunciation were off but the effect still happened.  Assimilating the
textbooks with a red stone didn't seem like such a cheat once it became clear
I'd have to do twice the work, both working out the alchemy and knowing the
right words and wand movements anyway.  

The following day, after Herbology, was the class I'd been looking forward to
the most, potions.  Firstly, because it was a joint session with the
Hufflepuffs, meaning Sloth and I would be in class together.  Secondly, because
it was a wandless subject that still produced magical results.  

Potions was held in the dungeons, and the classroom was filled with equipment. 
Each desk had a heating element for the cauldron and various strange
ingredients were on display on the walls.  Sloth and I found each other quickly
and took a seat together.  I caught sight of a couple of the Hufflepuff girls
pointing at me and whispering, while my housemate who'd been giving me trouble
pointedly looked away.  

"What's that about?" I asked Sloth, indicating the Hufflepuff girls.  

"Oh, it's nothing," said Sloth.  "I've just been telling them all how smart,
brave, and handsome my boyfriend is, and now they get to see some of that for
themselves."  

Our conversation was cut short as Professor Snape swept into the room.  His
greasy black hair hung, framing his face.  He regarded the class with a
perceptive eye and a vague disdain, as though being in the room with us was an
annoying inconvenience.  He reminded me of my former commanding officer, the
Swarm Alchemist, not in appearance, but certainly in attitude.  He took
attendance, not seeming interested in whether we were there, but more looking
for an excuse to not have to deal with our presence in the future.  

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," said
Professor Snape when attendance was taken.  His voice was low, as though he
didn't particularly care whether we heard him or not.  This speech was more for
him than for us.  "As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you
will hardly believe this is magic.  I don't expect you will really understand
the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the
delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind,
ensnaring the senses.  I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even
stopper death.  If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have
to teach."  

I'd already been looking forward to this subject, and I found it impossible not
to be swept up in Snape's obvious reverence for his subject.  The class was
dead silent, hanging on his every word.  Only the last remark contained a hint
of his previously obvious contempt for us.  That contempt was back in full
force when his gaze suddenly snapped toward me.  

"Oren!" he said sharply.  "What would I get if I added powdered root of
asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"  

The potions textbook mentioned an advanced potion called the draught of living
death.  Supposed to be very difficult to brew, those were the ingredients
mentioned in connection with it.  "Either a sleeping potion or a poison,
depending on how much of each ingredient and how they're mixed," I replied.  

Snape's eyes narrowed as he regarded me.  "Those two ingredients for the base
of a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the draught of living death." 
He regarded me for a long moment before snapping, "Abbot!  Where would you look
if I asked you to find me a beozar?"  

Hannah Abott, one of the Hufflepuff girls, froze like a cornered animal.  As
Snape's disapproving gaze pressed on her, she eventually managed to squeak out,
"I don't know."  

"For your information," said Snape to the class, "a beozar is a stone taken
from the stomach of a goat, and it will save you from most poisons.  Corner! 
What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"  

The Ravenclaw boy who'd been giving me trouble squirmed under Snape's gaze.  "I
don't know, Professor," he said.  

"Thought getting sorted into Ravenclaw meant you were already so clever you
didn't need to open your book?  Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant,
which also goes by the name aconite.  Why aren't you all copying this down?"  

There was a flurry of quills scratching against parchment as the class noted
down what Professor Snape had been saying.  Next he put a recipe on the board
for a potion to cure boils and set us to work brewing it in teams of two.  As
it was slightly different from the recipe om the textbook, I copied it down in
my notes before getting started.  

It was like my first attempt at alchemy all over again.  I took care to follow
the directions precisely, crushing snake fangs, stewing slugs in the bubbling
cauldron, and carefully measuring out the dried nettles and porcupine quills. 
If this worked, a whole new world of possibilities would open up for me.  

Snape breathed down everyone's neck as they attempted the potion, offering a
string of criticisms.  Sloth and I took things slow, looking up each time the
professor spoke correcting a student and making sure we weren't making the same
mistakes.  Finally, the brew was completed and I stared at the finished liquid.
 

Snape walked down the isles, looking over our potions and pronouncing them
successes or failures.  He waived his wand over the cauldrons as he graded
them, causing their contents to vanish.  I got the impression he was giving my
cauldron extra scrutiny, but eventually he pronounced my attempt a success,
flicked his wand, and my first potion disappeared.  

                                     * * *


"I wish I'd gotten to see it working," I said to Sloth as we walked together
toward Dumbledore's office.  I'd secured directions from a prefect that
morning.  

"That wasn't really a fair question he asked you at the start of class," Sloth
noted.  "We aren't supposed to be doing that potion until sixth year."  

"Maybe not," I agreed, "but I'm not going to let him spoil this class for me. 
I think I'll brew another one back in the common room, give myself some boils,
and see if it works."  

We stopped in front of a stone gargoyle guarding the passage to the
headmaster's office.  Retrieving the letter Dumbledore had sent me from my
potions book, I read the password, "Gum drop," to the gargoyle who animated and
stepped aside.  Sloth and I stepped through the passage and on to a rotating
spiral staircase that brought us up to the door at the top.  Sloth knocked and
it swung open.  

"How have you been enjoying your first week at Hogwarts?" asked Dumbledore from
behind his desk.  The room was decorated by portraits of witches and wizards
who were all snoozing in their chairs.  Small devices of unknown function were
set on tables around the room.  Dumbledore himself was dressed in purple robes
and rose to greet us.  I recognized the Sorting Hat on a rack.  A strange red
plumed bird rested on a perch on Dumbledore's desk.  

"I've already learned a lot," I said.  "I hope we'll be able to stay longer."  

"What exactly is occlumency?" asked Sloth.  "You mentioned we'd need lessons,
but that was all."  

"Ah, to the point, then.  Pity," said Dumbledore.  "Occlumency is a branch of
magic concerned with protecting the mind from external penetration and attack. 
I've made arrangements to teach you this skill to prevent others from gaining
the knowledge to create a Philosopher's Stone from your minds."  

"What's involved in that?" I asked, nervously fingering my false wand.  

Dumbledore sighed and said, "Regretably, the training process can get rather
intimate.  I will make use of legilimency to penetrate your mental defenses
repeatedly, both to help you learn to recognize an attack and to test the
success of your defenses.  Because of the nature of the training, your defenses
will be weaker than they are now during the training, until the defenses can be
built up.  I would advise you avoid direct eye contact with anyone until you're
past that phase, as that makes legilimency easier still to perform against
you."  

"So, you'll be reading our minds," I said.  

"Legilimency is somewhat more complex than that," said Dumbledore, "but in
essence, yes.  It can also be used to sort through your memories, or even
influence your actions, but the methods of defense are the same in any case."  

"You used it when we met," noted Sloth.  

"To verify your story," admitted Dumbledore.  "I intruded on your privacy no
deeper than was necessary.  You do recall my surprise at your shape shifting
and when you mentioned you knew how to make the Stone."  

"And we can expect similar respect for our privacy while we're training?" I
asked.  

"Of course," said Dumbledore seriously.  "The point of these lessons is to
enable you to keep your secrets.  I have no desire to pry them from you.  Some
intrusion is necessary, but I am a skilled legilimense, if I may say so, and
should be able to notice if a thought or memory should be private before
examining it further."  

"What do we have to do?" I asked, gripping my wand.  

"Occlumency is a purely mental skill," replied Dumbledore.  "It wouldn't be
much use if you needed a wand at the ready to use it.  The simplest technique
involves blanking your mind, silencing your thoughts in response to an
intrusion.  I'd like both of you to practice emptying your minds before you go
to bed each evening.  Once you've mastered this skill, we will move on to more
advanced techniques like projecting false thoughts."  

"We can do that," I said to Sloth, who nodded.  

"While the actual lessons are something of a one on one affair," noted
Dumbledore, "I thought it best if you were both here to offer a measure of
support and security to one another, since as I said the process can be
difficult.  Who would like to start?"  

"I will," Sloth volunteered.  "I've had some bad experiences with mental
intrusions, and if something goes badly, I want Greed at 100% to help."  

I squeezed Sloth's hand reassuringly as Dumbledore locked eyes with Sloth and
she began to squirm uncomfortably.  

"Regrettably, for you to learn what an intrusion feels like, these initial
experiences can be neither subtle nor gentle," said Dumbledore as he broke eye
contact.  

"How are you?" I asked Sloth.  

"I'm okay," she said after a moment's self-assessment.  

"Remember, try to clear your mind when you feel the intrusion," instructed
Dumbledore.  "Think of nothing and don't allow emotions to come to the
surface."  

After half a dozen attempts, Dumbledore called a halt.  Sloth looked shaky and
tired.  Our nature preserved us from physical fatigue, but we were still people
when you get down to it, and just as susceptible to emotional exhaustion.  

"My turn to watch over you," said Sloth.  She squeezed my hand and I locked
eyes with Dumbledore.  

The experience of having another consciousness rifling through my mind was
vaguely similar to being exposed to the Gate.  Images flashed before my mind's
eye and information came unbidden.  The first difference was that none of what
I was seeing was new, all of it being dredged up from my memory.  The second
was how slow and gentle the process was.  Dumbledore said he wouldn't be able
to be gentle with these early attempts, but his legilimency was like butterfly
wings gently caressing the skin compared with the sledge hammer that was seeing
the Gate.  

I tried to clear my mind, shut out the images, and expel Dumbledore, but I
wasn't at all practiced at controlling my thoughts.  The skills I'd developed
so I'd still be able to act within the Gate helped a little, but it wasn't
enough.  The second time Dumbledore intruded, the memories were accompanied by
thoughts of fear and hopelessness.  I saw myself a useless pile of misshapen
organs again.  I saw Sloth lying motionless on the ground with empty eyes.  

Again and again, the intrusions came, and each time it got harder to even try
to block it out.  Eventually, Dumbledore called a halt.  

"We will hold these sessions once a week," said Dumbledore.  "That should give
you time to practice and recover."  

I felt as shaky as Sloth looked, but I managed to nod my assent.  

"Now that that's settled, there is another matter I'd like your assistance
with.  I am preparing a safe location for your Philosopher's Stone.  As it is
your property, I thought you might want to look over the security."  

"Aren't we supposed to be vulnerable to legilimency until we actually master
some of the occlumency lessons?" asked Sloth.  "Why would you want to tell us
details about the security now?"  

"Because only a handful of those details have been finalized," responded
Dumbledore.  "It is my intention that no one involved with protecting the Stone
knows everything that will be protecting it."  

                                     * * *


Dumbledore led Sloth, Loki, and I to the forbidden third floor corridor and
opened the door with a wave of his wand.  

"A guardian will be placed in this room, which I've asked our groundskeeper to
remove while I show you the hall."  

"Fluffy," I said, nodding.  

If Dumbledore was surprised I knew the name, he didn't show it.  He merely led
us to a trap door.  

"A thief will next need to drop down blindly into the next chamber, where
additional protections can restrain, incapacitate, or kill."  

We jumped down together and Dumbledore used a spell to slow our descent.  Then
he led us through a series of rooms, each of which would be guarded by a
different set of spells worked by a different member of the faculty.  We
stopped in the final room where the Stones themselves would be kept.  

"Do you have any thoughts?" asked Dumbledore.  

"One," said Sloth.  "How will you make the thief go through all that instead of
going this way?"  She stepped through the back wall and then back into the
final chamber.  

"Or if the thief can't duplicate Sloth's abilities," I added, "stop him from
doing this?"  I kicked the wall Sloth had just passed through and opened an
archway leading to the unguarded hallway beyond using the transmutation circle
on the bottom of my shoe.  

"What do you recommend?" asked Dumbledore.  

"I can set up some alchemy arrays that'll reinforce and repair the walls," I
suggested.  When Dumbledore nodded, I clapped and touched a wall.  Just below
the surface, I scribed alchemic diagrams throughout the protected halls similar
to those I'd used in my lab.  These were hidden, didn't need to worry about
freshening the air, but were otherwise identical.  Sloth dropped a red stone in
the container in the corner of the final room, and the alchemy activated,
closing the arch I'd opened up in a wave of blue light.  

"This will be a welcome addition to our defenses," acknowledged Dumbledore
cheerfully.  

"You do have something to keep whoever it is from just teleporting in and out,
right?" asked Sloth.  

"No witch or wizard can apparate or disapparate on Hogwarts grounds.  The wards
are lowered in a specific area to facilitate apparition lessons, but even those
are restored after the classes are concluded."  

"The stone powering my protections will run out of power eventually," I
mentioned.  "I can make more, but I need certain ingredients."  

Dumbledore helped me address an owl to a suitable supplier after leading us out
of the corridor.  With luck, the red water precursors would arrive sometime
next week.

                                     * * *


The door knocker for the Ravenclaw common room asked, "What always drinks and
wears a mail that doesn't clink?"  I still hadn't fully recovered mentally from
the occlumency lessons, and I ended up drawing a blank.  I just wanted to get
in, brew my potion, and test its results.  

While I sat on the steps trying to get my exhausted mind to focus on the
riddle, a group of first year Ravenclaw boys came up the stairs.  They saw me
waiting there and laughed.  

"What's the matter, Oren?" sneered the one who'd been giving me trouble since
the start of term.  "Can't use your brain if there isn't a teacher to show off
to?"  

"The name's Greed, Corner," I shot back, annoyed at having remembered his last
name from Snape's class.  "And it isn't my fault you don't know what wolfsbane
is."  

He pointedly turned his back on me and approached the door.  On hearing the
riddle, he laughed harder.  "A fish," he told the door, which swung open at his
answer.  I went to go in when the group of boys interposed their bodies into my
path and closed the door behind them.  

They clearly assumed I'd answered wrong already and would stay locked out. 
Instead, I just gave the door the correct answer and it opened for me. 
Ignoring their group, I crossed the common room and set up my potions
equipment.  

I decided to brew two potions, one using Snape's recipe and one using the
recipe from the book.  Loki curled up beside my chair as I worked, his constant
companionship made it easier to ignore the snide comments about being a
teacher's pet while I brewed my potions.  Loki wouldn't let them sneak up
behind me and cause problems while I was brewing.  At length, I had two bottled
potions that, if potion making didn't somehow require the same kind of magical
power that made wands work, would cure boils.  

"Hey, Corner," I called across the common room when I was done, "you want to
give me a hand with something?"  

He and his friends consulted, then he swaggered over toward me, the others
hanging back to watch.  "Why would I help you?" he asked loudly.  

"How often do you think you'll get the chance to jinx me with no consequences?"
I replied.  "I've got two boil curing potions I want to test out.  What do you
say we both jinx each other with boils and get it out of our system, then drink
the potions together like friends?  I'll even let you pick which potion."  

"What sort of trick are you trying to pull?" he asked.  

"If you're scared about how much the boils'll hurt, I'm sure I can find someone
else who can take it."  

That did the job.  He whipped out his wand and called out, "Furnunculus!"  I
made no move to dodge and took the curse in the face.  A handful of inflamed
pustules broke out on my face.  

"That's the spirit, Furnunculus!" I said, my wand glowing blue for an instant
as I transmuted a few patches of skin on his face, and caused boils to appear
roughly in proportion to what he'd done to me.  Then I turned my back and
snatched up my two potion bottles.  "This one uses the recipe we learned in
potions today," I told him as he tried not to wince from the painful pustules
on his face.  "This one uses the recipe from the textbook.  Which one do you
want?"  

"I don't care," he said.  

I shrugged and handed him the potion brewed by the textbook's instructions.  We
both drank at the same time.  I felt relief the instant I swallowed, the boils
vanishing almost as quickly as they would have if I'd used my regeneration. 
His boils vanished more slowly, but vanish they did as I watched.  

"It looks like Professor Snape's recipe is better," I said, then extended my
and.  "Are we good, Corner?"  

After a moment's hesitation, he took my hand and said, "It's Michael."  

                                     * * *


It was Tuesday when the red water supplies arrived.  Sloth and I wasted no time
transporting it to our lab, getting it mixed, and putting the toxic cocktail
into feeders for our crop of philosopher's flowers.  I hadn't needed to replace
the red stone on my wand yet, but it was a comfort to know we could replenish
our stock.  

In anticipation of Professor Flitwick's charms class, I'd prepared a handful of
methods to levitate an object using alchemy.  Those preparations were somewhat
premature, since we had more theory and practice in charms before we'd be doing
the actual levitation.  Transfiguration continued to involve blatant violations
of equivalent exchange.  Fortunately, we were working with small items, so my
red stone wasn't being taxed too badly.  

Thursday, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had a joint class.  Flying.  Madam
Hooch, the instructor, had us line up and broomsticks were set on the ground
next to each of us.  At her instruction, we extended our right hands and
commanded the broomsticks, "Up!"  

Some people's broomsticks hopped off the ground toward their hand.  Some
people's rolled away.  Sloth and I were the only ones who's broomsticks didn't
move at all.  While Madam Hooch went down the line, correcting everyone's hand
positions and posture, Sloth got a red stone out of her pocket and cupped it in
her palm, flashing it to me so I'd see and hopefully understand.  I got a stone
from my pocket and showed her in reply.  

The next time we said, "Up!" I stomped my foot, and the broomsticks meant for
Sloth and I sprang into our hands.  We both watched the other students
carefully, holding our red stones in our palms against the wood of the
broomstick.  Just like with the wands, we'd need to duplicate the effects with
alchemy.  

The first instruction once everyone had their brooms was to mount, kick off,
fly a few feet forward, and land.  Red glowing lines became fully visible on
Sloth's broom as she prepared to launch.  I had to focus on my alchemy, so I
didn't get a good look at her array.  In principle, this shouldn't be too
different from what Psiren did to launch her weaponized playing cards.  

I kicked off the ground, my broom glowed blue, then shot out from between my
legs like a rocket, partially embedding itself into a tree.  I ended up flat on
my back at the starting position.  Sloth had stayed with her broom, but had
launched straight up in the air and was spinning as she fell to earth.  She hit
head first, her neck cracking sideways.  She'd regenerated the injury before
Madam Hooch rushed over to check on her.  

"Don't kick off so hard," she instructed Sloth.  "You could've broken your
neck."  

Michael Corner meanwhile helped me pull my broomstick out of the tree, saying,
"So, there is a subject you aren't a natural in."  

"I'm not a natural in any of them," I retorted as the broom finally came
loose.  "I'm just putting in a lot of effort."  

"Sure," he said, rolling his eyes as Madam Hooch came over to correct my grip.
 

Disastrous as that was, I was amazed no one suspected anything more than
incompetence.  Other people had problems and accidents too, but Sloth and I
were clearly at the bottom of the class.  While Madam Hooch adjusted our
posture and grip, I was busy adjusting my alchemy.  By the end of the lesson, I
still hadn't managed that short flight, but I was getting better at calibrating
the forces involved.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
I'm trying not to contradict anything established in the books.  I am ignoring
some of the material that was never in the books themselves, in this case, the
mention Rowling made in an interview that potions requires the use of a wand. 
Likewise, I'm adding details where things are ambiguous in order for them to
fit with my story, like the details we see about the brooms both here and in
later chapters. 
***** Romantic Interlude 11 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 5) Romantic Interlude 11
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 6.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


After the broomstick lesson, Sloth and I retreated to our lab under the
Quidditch field, giving our peers the slip in the process.  We'd come down
earlier in the week to prepare the red water, but we'd just done the work and
left.  Neither of us had felt fully recovered from the occlumency lesson yet. 
The next lesson was tomorrow, so this was as recovered as we were likely to
get.  

"I'm going to need to check out some books on broomstick design," I said when
we emerged from the earth and into the lab.  "I'm sure we can get the alchemy
right."  

"It figures the wands wouldn't be the only thing you need that inborn power to
use," sighed Sloth.  "I wonder what else is like that."  

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it," I said confidently.  

Sloth smiled and led me over to our bedroom.  "Let me help you out of those
robes," she offered.  As she held my hand, our robes fell through our bodies
like we weren't there, and we both stepped out of the pile of clothing.  

Wrapping my arms around Sloth, I pulled our naked bodies together and kissed
Sloth firmly on the mouth.  Sloth embraced me back as we probed one another's
mouths and sucked on one another's tongues.  My hands wandered along Sloth's
back as we kissed.  One hand settled over the oroboros mark on Sloth's shoulder
blade.  The other squeezed her butt.  

My erect penis ended up pressed between our bodies.  Without breaking our kiss,
Sloth grabbed my penis and repositioned it, lined up with her vaginal opening. 
For the first time, I penetrated her while we were locked together in a kiss.  

Sloth's moan of pleasure vibrated my tongue in her mouth as I pressed my penis
deeper into her lithe body.  She'd gotten up on her toes to accommodate the
penetration, but as I made my way deeper into her, she came down.  Her feet
weren't quite flat when a sudden surge of sensation took the strength from her
legs, and I found the hand groping her butt was the only thing supporting her
weight.  My penis suddenly fully sheathed in Sloth's body, and her vagina
clenched hard, holding me in place.  

I leaned backward and brought us down on to the bed, so we needn't support our
weight.  Sloth's hands explored my back, legs, and butt as I began to pull my
penis in and out.  I grunted with exertion as I pulled halfway out of her
vagina, then forcefully plunged all the way in once again.  

Sloth's and my legs tangled together as our rhythmic thrusts began to
synchronize.  I adored the totality of sensation as her flat chest slid against
mine, her eager mouth sucked on my tongue, our hands groped at each other's
bodies, and her vagina squeezed my penis.  

The tension built, and I reached my climax first.  Semen spurted out of my
penis into Sloth's vagina.  In the throes of my orgasm, I lost some
coordination.  Sloth immediately took up the slack, continuing to stimulate me
as I used the red stones in my body to draw out my orgasm.  I continued to pump
ejaculate into Sloth's eager body for a few minutes before Sloth reached her
climax.  

Neither of us had much coordination to do more than grip one another hard and
keep kissing as Sloth's vagina rhythmically squeezed my ejaculating penis.  We
held our orgasms a while longer, until finally choosing to let ourselves run
out of stamina and relax.  Our kiss became less desperate and more relaxedly
affectionate.  Finally, we broke our kiss.  

"Wow," I said.  "I think I like kissing you while we have sex."  

"I know I like it," said Sloth.  "Don't take this the wrong way, though, but
I'd enjoy it more if your penis was bigger.  You did get me used to a tighter
fit."  

I smiled at her.  "We can shift back to our normal forms next time."  

Her skin was already flush from the sex, but the way she moved her eyes told me
she'd be blushing if it hadn't been.  "I was so worried about never being able
to grow up, and now I want to go back because the sex is better.  How do you
put up with me?"  

"Well, you do give terrific blowjobs," I suggested with a mischievous grin.  

Sloth smiled back, rolled over, and grabbed her wand off the floor.  "One thing
first," she said and touched the tip of her wand to the oroboros mark on her
back.  A red transmutation array flashed on the wand's length for an instant,
and Sloth shrunk back down into the body of a four year old.  My sperm was
expelled from her vagina under pressure as she shrunk.  Next, she touched her
wand to the oroboros mark in the center of my chest, and I returned to my adult
form with a second flash of a red alchemy array appearing along her wand.  

Sloth tossed her wand aside and grabbed my penis with her too small to wrap
around hand and started trailing her tiny tongue along the length of my erect
penis, tasting the mix of sexual fluid already coating the shaft.  

Sloth's eleven year old body was sexy.  I wouldn't have chosen an unattractive
form for her.  But it didn't hold a candle to her four year old form.  

My penis was licked clean before Sloth opened her mouth wide and sealed her
lips around the head.  She sucked hard, and gripping the shaft hard in both
hands, pulled the whole head of my penis into her tiny mouth.  

Expertly stroking the shaft with her tiny fingers, Sloth moved her tongue
around the head of my penis and brought the tip up against the back of her
throat.  Anticipating my orgasm with stunning accuracy, she started swallowing
moments before I started to cum in the child's mouth.  I let her drink my semen
for as long as she kept swallowing.  

I was very satisfied by the time Sloth stopped swallowing and let my ejaculate
escape the seal of her lips and dribble down her chin.  She teased at my
softening penis a bit longer before she let go with her hands and mouth.  

"I always love that," I said.  

"So do I," Sloth replied through semen decorated lips.  

I stared at her naked and sexually satisfied little body for a long while
before I sighed with regret, clapped my hands, and touched my oroboros mark,
reverting to my eleven year old form.  Sloth shared my disappointment that our
trist was over and used her wand to restore her eleven year old disguise.  

We both cleaned up with alchemy and got dressed.  We'd both be sleeping alone
in our dorm rooms.  Disappointing as that fact was, we didn't want to be missed
after curfew.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Now that their preferences are out in the open, they'll both be enjoying
themselves more.  Communication is key after all. 
***** New Friends *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 6) New Friends
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


It became clear that we'd be brewing a new potion each week in Professor
Snape's class and that I'd be accumulating a large number of recipes.  The
mixing instructions were counter intuitive compared to everything I knew about
the chemistry of the ingredients, but this clearly worked on an entirely
different set of principals.  The whole point was to learn them.  

Occlumency lessons showed a distinct pattern.  Each week, our defenses were
stronger, and it took Dumbledore longer to batter them down.  We always left
the class exhausted and drained, but objective measures showed we were making
progress.  The touch of Dumbledore's legelimency was subtler and harder to
detect each time, but it kept pace with our growing awareness of our own
thought process.  

The flying lessons continued to be a problem.  At the heart of the issue was
that broomstick enchantments had been developed incrementally over the course
of centuries, and I needed to duplicate each of the using alchemy.  And once
I'd gotten the broom to hover, elevate, descend, move forward, turn, speed,
slow, and stop, I also had to learn how to keep my grip and balance on the
thing like I'd been supposed to be learning all along.  Sloth and I got
together frequently to compare notes and work on improving the design of the
broomstick flying alchemy, but we were consistently a couple weeks behind the
rest of the class.  

The red stone powering Sloth's wand burnt out and had to be replaced during her
transfiguration class early in the third week.  Our new crop came in a week
after that.  We weren't going to sue them up nearly fast enough to run out.  

The work I'd done on the broomstick flying meant that by the time Professor
Flitwick deemed our wand form and pronunciation good enough to attempt to
levitate objects, I was able to do so effortlessly.  The feathers we were
practicing with bobbed and flowed at my direction.  Professor Flitwick's
extensive practice with us beforehand meant that I wasn't the only one who's
feature levitated on the first try, and by the end of the class, everyone had
managed it.  

At dinner that evening, I was enjoying the novel experience of having succeeded
at a spell and not been bullied out of jealousy.  I managed to make a few good
trades for chocolate frog cards, which I'd been collecting to help give me a
handle on what was considered normal and what was impressive.  The famous witch
and wizard cards were a better place to start than our history of magic class.
 

Just then, Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall.  "Troll in the
dungeons," he gasped.  "Thought you ought to know."  At which point, he
promptly collapsed.  

Dumbledore wasted no time.  He ordered the prefects to escort the students back
to their house common rooms and the faculty prepared to find and deal with the
threat.  

As we were being gathered up, I heard one of the Gryffindor boys say, "She
doesn't know about the troll!"  

Loki and I slipped away from the Ravenclaw prefects in the confusion and got
Sloth away from the Hufflepuffs.  "There's a student out there somewhere alone
with the troll on the loose," I explained once we were away from the group. 
Sloth nodded and the three of us set out to find the troll or the student,
hopefully before they found each other.  The defense textbook had noted trolls
had a fondness for human flesh.  

Loki picked up a scent quickly and bolted down the halls.  Sloth and I sprinted
to keep up with the dog.  We all picked up the pace when a scream echoed down
the corridor.  We rounded a corner and saw two first year boys, one with black
hair and glasses, the other red haired, panicking and fumbling with a key
trying to get a door open.  

Sloth took me by the hand and touched the back of Loki's neck, and the three of
us passed through the two boys and the locked door, emerging into a bathroom. 
The troll towered over us.  Hermione was trapped in a corner and the troll was
moving toward her.  

"Hold it right there!" I yelled at the troll.  The defense books said trolls
were stupid, but it was wearing clothing and had a wooden club, so it had to
have some intelligence.  It ignored me and continued to move toward Hermione.  

The lock clicked open and the two boys rushed in.  While they took in the
situation, Loki growled at the troll and transformed into his chimera form,
breaking down a crater of floor and part of a stall door to fuel his change. 
The troll proved equally oblivious to animal threat displays as it has been to
human speech.  

Sloth sprinted at the troll and collided with one of its legs.  She'd misjudged
its composition, so her powers failed to let her pass through its body. 
Instead, she fell to the floor from the awkward impact.  

Determined to get the troll's attention off the mortal humans in the room, I
drew my wand and pointed it at one of the sinks.  With a simple transmutation
of the water and metal in the plumbing, I caused the sink to launch itself at
the troll, impacting it like an artillery shell.  Porcelain shattered on impact
and one of the creature's arms was hanging limp and bloodied at its side.  

The troll turned away from Hermione in a rage, but proved incapable of
accurately determining who had just hurt it.  It turned its attention to Sloth,
who was closest to it and raised its massive club.  The dark haired boy rushed
into harm's way, throwing himself over Sloth in an attempt to shield her with
his own body.  It was as noble as it was foolish.  He survived only because
Sloth used her powers to cause the club to pass through both of them and strike
the floor beneath.  

Loki leapt onto the troll's back, his enormous claws digging into the troll's
flesh and supporting the weight of the massive chimera.  The troll's magical
nature made it stronger and more durable than a creature with its body plan
should be, but magic or no, Loki was deliberately designed as a living weapon. 
Powerful jaws drove razor sharp fangs into the troll's good arm.  Roaring in
pain, the troll dropped its club.  

"Windgardium Leviosa!" called out the red haired boy, using the incantation for
the levitation charm we'd all just been allowed to try in class earlier that
day.  He hovered the troll's massive club over the creature and dropped it on
its head.  Loki leapt off its back as the troll's eyes rolled back in its head
and it collapsed unconscious on the floor.  

The dark haired boy standing over Sloth was trembling.  He examined his body
not grasping why he wasn't dead.  The red haired boy was staring at the
unconscious troll, seeming processing that he'd beaten the twelve foot tall
monstrosity.  

"Is it dead?" asked Hermione, taking a halting step toward the troll.  

"I don't think so," said the black haired boy.  "I think it's just been knocked
out."  

"I don't want it moving when it comes around," I said.  I pointed my wand at
the stone floor beneath the creature.  Stone bindings wrapped around the
troll's limbs and midsection.  The battle over, Loki relaxed, glowed blue, and
shed his extra mass as a pile of organic residue, returning to the form of a
floppy eared brown dog.  

"I don't want to be rude when you helped us fight that thing," said the red
haired boy, "but who or what are you people?"  

"I'm Sloth.  This is Greed and Loki," she introduced us.  When the sound of
running footsteps echoed from the hallways Sloth hastily added, "We'll explain
everything later."  

Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell burst into the room.  Quirrell
clutched at his chest and sat down, whimpering.  Snape examined the troll. 
McGonagall spoke in an absolute fury.  

"What on earth were you thinking of?  You're lucky you weren't killed.  Why
aren't you in your dormitory?"  

Snape shot a look at  the black haired boy, then his gaze shifted to me.  I
could feel the intrusion of a legelimency attempt, and I reflexively blanked my
mind like Dumbledore had been teaching Sloth and I.  The intrusion repelled,
Snape narrowed his eyes and stared at me darkly.  

"Please, Professor McGonagall," said Hermione in a small voice, drawing
attention to herself, "they were looking for me."  

"Miss Granger!" exclaimed McGonagall.  

"I went looking for the troll because I-I thought I could deal with it on my
own-you know, because I've read all about them.  

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now.  Sloth and Harry distracted it while
Ron and Greed knocked it out.  They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. 
It was about to finish me off when they arrived."  

"Well- in that case..." began McGonagall, visibly switching gears as she looked
over the five of us.  "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of
tackling a mountain troll on your own?"  

Loki pushed his head into Hermione's hand in a comforting gesture as McGonagall
continued.  "Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. 
I'm very disappointed in you.  If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off
to Gryffindor tower.  Students are finishing the feat in their houses."  

Hermione left and Loki returned to my side.  McGonagall addressed the rest of
us.  

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on
a full grown mountain troll.  You each win five points for your respective
houses.  Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this.  You may go."  

We all left silently and separated for our respective house common rooms. 
Sloth and I would have to meet up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione the next day
and explain what they just saw us do against the troll.  One thing pressed on
me as I climbed the steps to Ravenclaw tower.  Snape had tried to read my mind.
 

                                     * * *


The three Gryffindors were waiting for Sloth and I outside the Great Hall when
we went down for breakfast.  We went to an empty classroom out of earshot of
students and portraits alike.  

"Wordless magic is way beyond our grade level," noted Hermione, starting the
conversation.  

"And I've never even heard of a spell like the one you used to save Harry,"
added Ron.  

Sloth and I looked at one another for a moment, then I said, "That's because it
wasn't magic we used to fight the troll.  It was alchemy."  

"What's alchemy?" asked Harry.  

"Alchemy is the science of understanding matter, breaking it down into its
component elements, and rebuilding it as something else," I said.  

"You can't do what you did with the troll using alchemy," said Hermione.  "It's
like potions.  You need a lab, a work space, ingredients, measuring tools.  You
can't just wave a wand and do alchemy.  Even Dumbledore couldn't do it."  

I knelt down and drew a diagram on the floor with a piece of chalk.  "This is
called a transmutation circle.  It was one of the most important discoveries in
the history of alchemy."  I dropped a quill in the center of it and touched the
array.  Blue light poured from the circle and the quill disintegrated.  Its
material recombined into a large reptile scale.  "The transmutation circle
eliminated the need for large lab equipment for most applications of alchemic
research and paved the way for modern alchemy."  

"I've never heard of any of this," said Ron.  

"That's because the transmutation circle was never discovered in this world," I
said.  

"We're explorers from another world," Sloth clarified.  "Dumbledore's letting
us attend Hogwarts as a favor."  

"Did Fred and George put you up to this?" asked Ron skeptically.  

"They saved our lives," reminded Harry.  "Besides, is this story really that
weird?"  

"Thanks for trying to save my life by the way," said Sloth.  "That was very
brave.  Don't do it again.  Greed and I aren't human and we're a lot tougher to
kill than you are."

"What do you mean, you aren't human?" asked Harry.  

"Have you ever heard of a homunculus?" asked Sloth.  

"An artificial person," said Hermione instantly.  "Really advanced alchemy. 
Parcelus Van Hohenheim was the first wizard to successfully create one."  

"We can get into more details if you want," I offered, "but suffice it to say,
we have the ability to regenerate from even fatal injuries.  Even if the troll
had smashed one of us into jelly, we'd have been perfectly fine again in a few
seconds."  

"You know there are rules about this sort of thing," said Ron.  "Nonhumans
aren't allowed to use wands."  

"This isn't a wand," I said, handing mine over to him.  "Go ahead.  Try a
spell."  

"Windgardium Leviosa!" said Ron, waving my counterfeit wand to no effect.  

"Those engravings are like the transmutation circle I showed you," I said,
taking back my wand.  "We aren't wizards.  We've been using alchemy to
duplicate the effects of spells.  Windgardium Leviosa!"  

The scale I'd transmuted as a demonstration rose into the air, supported by
alchemic energy channeled through the glowing blue array on my wand.  

"So, what happens now that you know?" asked Sloth.  

"Dumbledore knows but the other professors don't," guessed Harry.  "That's why
you didn't want to explain all this last night."  

Sloth and I nodded.  

"I can keep a secret," offered Hermione.  

"Me too," said Harry nodding.  

"Friends?" said Ron, offering his hand.  

"Friends," I agreed shaking it.  Sloth sighed with relief.  

After agreeing to meet up later, we all entered the Great Hall and went to our
respective tables for breakfast.  

                                     * * *


At our occlumency lesson, I brought up Snape's legelimency attempt to
Dumbledore.  That provoked a chuckle from the old wizard.  

"Professor Snape was quite alarmed when he came to see me after the troll
incident and mentioned your use of occlumency.  I was forced to explain that I
was giving you both private lessons and reassure him you weren't a threat to
the school."  

"Why was he trying to read my mind to begin with?" I asked.  

"I should think it obvious," noted Dumbledore.  "I would certainly have been
curious exactly what happened that led to five first years defeating a mountain
troll."  

I couldn't argue with that.  

"Now, your successful use of basic occlumency against Professor Snape tells me
you're ready for more advanced lessons."  

Dumbledore proceeded to walk us through the basics of projecting false thoughts
to fool a legelimens into believing he'd penetrated your mind, only to come
away with false information.  As usual, Sloth went first.  Partway through the
lesson, something extraordinary happened.  

Blue sparks of alchemic energy raced along Sloth's body.  Her hair turned
black, her eyes violet, and her body shrunk.  She had reverted back to her four
year old homunculus form.  It lasted only a second before she shifted back into
her appearance as a Hogwarts first year.  

"What was that?" Sloth asked in alarm.  

"Your body reacted to what your were doing mentally," I said.  "What did you
do?"  

"I was trying to project that there was an army of zombies outside the door,"
said Sloth.  "I used the memories of when we were fighting to try and add
realism.  I think I convinced part of myself that I still looked like I did
then."  

"Try a different form," I suggested.  

Sloth complied, focused, and once again alchemic light ran across her body. 
When it finished, I was looking at a perfect duplicate of my own face.  As
before, Sloth reverted quickly, but we'd discovered a new application for our
occlumency training.  Projecting a certain belief that we looked a particular
way caused our bodies to conform to that self image.  After a few tries, I was
able to do it too.   

As before, Dumbledore continued the lesson until Sloth and I were both
exhausted, demonstrating flaws in our projected thoughts and giving us insight
into how any flaw in the projected persona could be sued to penetrate deeper
into our true thoughts and memories.  

                                     * * *


Having an actual wizard in on our secret made a lot of things easier. 
Practicing defense with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Sloth and I could get a
better idea of what the curses and jinxes we were duplicating actually did to a
body.  There were dozens of ways to lock a person's legs, for example, but only
experiencing the curse told us whether the effect was more akin to induced
muscle cramps, temporary paralysis, or the removal of the knee joint.  

Since our alchemy based approximations worked on strictly physical principals,
one thing that became clear was that standard countercurses wouldn't do
anything to reverse our alchemy induced conditions.  Likewise, the only method
I was able to find to remove the leg locker curse using alchemy was to destroy
my legs and grow new ones.  This did allow for a general purpose alchemy based
countercurse: breaking down and rebuilding whatever part of the body was
targeted, but since using it on anyone but Sloth and I counted as human
transmutation, it would burn through red stones quickly.  

Hermione in particular seemed to delight in exploring the limits of my and
Sloth's ingenuity in duplicating difficult spell effects.  While the five of us
were out by the Quidditch field, Hermione conjured a queer blue flame that
would've baffled Roy Mustang himself.  It shed light and heat, but it didn't
consume fuel.  It could be smothered by depriving it of oxygen, but it could be
scooped up and carried around in a jar.  

Sloth and I were leaning over the jar discussing a method of using alchemic
manipulation of the air to keep the flame contained at a certain size and fed
with a replenishing supply of hydrogen fuel when Ron elbowed me in the side. 
We looked up to see Snape approaching and the other three standing so as to
conceal the jar of blue fire.  Sloth and I fell into line with Harry, Ron, and
Hermione.  

Snape was walking with an obvious limp.  Given what I'd managed to piece
together about the range and scope of healing magic, that was odd.  From what
I'd read, only certain dark curses or creatures could inflict wounds that Madam
Pomfrey couldn't mend with trivial ease.  There was no legelimency attempt this
time as Snape looked us over.  

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"  

Harry held up a book on Quidditch he'd been reading for Snape's inspection.  

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school.  Give it to me.  Five
points from Gryffindor."  Snape took the book and left.  

"He's just made that rule up," said Harry, staring daggers at Snape's departing
back.  Then a bit calmer added, "Wonder what's wrong with his leg."  

"Dunno," said Ron, "but I hope it's really hurting him."  

"He really hates you," said Sloth to Harry.  "Limping like that, he still went
out of his way to come over and give you trouble.  That's real dedication to
spite."  

                                     * * *


"Did you have fun playing with Ron's pet rat?" I asked Loki who was curled up
at my feet in the Ravenclaw common room that night.  Ron had been nervous about
introducing the animals to each other.  Given how viciously Ron had seen Loki
fighting the troll, it was understandable.  The rat, Scabbers, had been nervous
at first too, but quickly warmed up to the well trained dog.  In no time,
Scabbers was riding on top of Loki's head, being conveyed across the yard and
back.  

I reached down from my comfortable chair to stroke my pet's fur.  As I was
paying attention to my dog, Michael Corner walked up to me.  

"You've been hanging around with Harry Potter the last few days," he opened.  

"Yeah, first Hufflepuff, now Gryffindor," I said sarcastically.  "Now all I
need is a Slytherin friend and th betrayal of my House can be complete."  

"That's not what I Was going to say," snapped Michael.  "I was going to ask if
you'd heard about him and the war."  

"Sloth filled me in on the basics," I told him.  "A dark wizard named
Voldemort-"  

"Don't say his name," interrupted Michael in hushed tones.  

"Is there some reason we're not supposed to?" I asked him.  When no answer was
forthcoming, I rolled my eyes and continued.  "Anyway, this dark wizard killed
Harry's parents, tried to kill Harry, and failed so badly no one's seen or
heard from him since."  

"They say You-Know-Who gave Harry that scar on his forehead." said Michael.  

I shrugged.  "He seems like a decent guy."  I didn't feel like getting into the
fact that he'd been willing to sacrifice his life for a total stranger in the
fight against the troll.  

My short replies and disinterested tone convinced Michael to go away.  I picked
a book off a nearby shelf and started reading.  Assimilating information from
books using red stones was quicker and more efficient, but there was something
inherently realizing about being curled up in a comfy chair next to a crackling
fireplace with a dog curled up at your feet, reading a book the old fashioned
way.  

                                     * * *


The next day, Sloth and I went to see our first game of Quidditch.  I'd found
some privacy that morning and transmuted each of us a pair of binoculars so
we'd be able to see the action even if we couldn't get good seats.  The match
was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, so I felt no conflict in seeking out my new
Gryffindor friends and cheering on their house's team alongside them.  

Harry was nowhere to be seen, but we found Ron and Hermione up on the highest
row of the stands with Neville and a couple other Gryffindors.  

"Have you seen Harry?" Sloth asked before I could.  

"You'll see him pretty soon," said Ron mysteriously.  

"We made this banner to cheer him on," added Hermione, ruining the effect of
Ron's evasiveness.  

The banner was a partially ruined bed sheet with a picture of a lion drawn on
it and the words "Potter for President," in paint that had been charmed to
flash in different colors.  

"May I?" I asked, drawing my wand.  

Hermione stepped aside.  I mumbled something inaudible so the others would
think there was an incantation, then I used alchemy through my wand to mend the
torn spots in the fabric, manipulate the dyes to offer a better contrast for
the words and images, and added a fringe to the banner.  

"No one told us Harry was playing," said Sloth.  

"It was a secret," said Hermione meaningfully.  "The Gryffindor team didn't
want the other teams to find out about Harry being on the team before this
match."  

Looking up at the pillars and their vertical hoops, I asked anyone who was
listening, "So, how does this game go again?"  

Ron launched into an enthusiastic explanation.  Scoring was handled by getting
a particular ball, the quaffle, through one of the opposing team's goal hoops. 
The game ended when a tiny golden ball called a snitch was found and caught by
a seeker.  That was Harry's position on the team.  Meanwhile, heavy iron balls
called bludgers attacked the players and beaters used bats to knock bludgers
away from their teammates and towards the other team.  Ron's older brothers,
Fred and George, a pair of identical twins, were the Gryffindor beaters.  And
of course,  the entire game was played while flying on broomsticks.  

Surprisingly, the game was a lot easier to follow once it got underway than
Ron's explanation had made it seem.  If anything was convincing evidence that
wizards were more durable than baseline humans, this game was it.  You hit a
heavy iron ball at a muggle's head and they subsequently fall twenty feet, the
result is predictably tragic.  In the wizarding world, that level of risk was
necessary to have any suspense at all.  

As the game went on, Hagrid joined us in the stands.  The rest of us bunched
together to accommodate the enormous man's presence.  Sloth and I leaned into
one another.  Hagrid was clearly here to cheer Harry on.  

In the sky, the snitch was spotted and nearly caught by Harry, but the
Slytherin captain crashed into him.  The foul provoked calls of outrage from
our part of the stands.  The student announcing the game also got in on the
outrage over the foul.  

Hagrid was arguing in favor of a rule change to expel players from the game for
fouls like that when Harry's flight pattern went erratic.  He was somehow
flying worse than I flew, and I wasn't sure real enchanted broomsticks could
jerk and buck like that.  

It drew Hagrid's attention, who raised his binoculars to get a better look. 
"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing.  If I didn't know better, I'd say he lost
control of his broom.  But he can't have."  

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" asked a nearby Gryffindor.
 

"Can't have," insisted Hagrid.  "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick
except powerful dark magic.  No kid could do that to a Nimbus 2000."  

Hermione snatched Sloth's binoculars and started scanning the crowd.  Sloth let
the strap phase through her neck while she continued to watch Harry with
concern.  I drew m wand and started working out my best option for cushioning a
potential fall.  The philosopher's flower lab was right under the quiditich
field, so sinking the ground as he impacted would risk exposing the crowd to
toxic red water.  I could sue a variant of the alchemy I used to mimic the
levitation charm and support Harry with a harness of air held still using
alchemy.  

I was disregarding the idea of using my general countercurse on the grounds
that deconstructing and rebuilding Harry's broom would disrupt the enchantments
that made it fly as well as the curse that was currently acting on it when
Hermione declared, "I knew it!  Snape.  Look.  He's doing something.  Jinxing
the broom."  

I glanced in the direction Hermione indicated and raised my binoculars.  Snape
was staring at Harry and mouthing the words of some incantation.  

"What should we do?" asked Ron.  

"Leave it to me," said Hermione.  

I did just that as she ran off, returning my attention to Harry.  His teammates
had flown up to attempt a rescue, but couldn't get close enough.  Maybe I
should transmute his robes into a parachute.  He was getting high enough for
that to make a difference.  

"Oh my God," gasped Sloth, who'd been monitoring Hermione's progress while I
focused on Harry.  Whatever Hermione had done worked.  Harry was back in
control of his broom and was headed down toward solid ground.  

Just as he was landing, Harry grabbed his mouth and tumbled off his broom on
hands and knees.  He then spit the snitch that nearl choked him to death into
his hand.  The game was over.  Gryffindor won.  And we rushed Harry off the
field away from Snape to the relative safety of Hagrid's hut.  

The groundskeeper prepared tea for his guests, especially the boy who'd nearly
choked on a golden snitch.  Ron, Hermione, Sloth, and I were with them.  Loki
stood guard outside.  

Ron filled Harry in on what had happened.  "It was Snape.  We saw him.  He was
cursing your broomstick and muttering.  He wouldn't take his eyes off you."  

"Rubbish.  Why wold Snape do something like that?" demanded Hagrid.  

"I found out something about him," said Harry after a long pause.  "He tried to
get past that three headed dog on Halloween.  It bit him.  We think he was
trying to steal whatever it's guarding."  

"How do you know about Fluffy?" asked Hagrid in shock.  

"That's what that limp is from?" I asked at nearly the same time and got a nod
from Harry.  

"Fluffy?" questioned Ron indignantly.  

"Yeah," replied Hagrid.  "He's mine.  Bought him off a Greek chappie I met in
the pub last year.  I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"  He caught himself.
 

"Yes?" prompted Harry.  

"Now don't ask me anymore.  That's top secret, that is," replied Hagrid.  

"But Snape's trying to steal it," insisted Harry.  

"Rubbish," declared Hagrid.  "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher.  He'd do nothing of
the sort."  

Hermione pointed out the obvious flaw in Hagrid's argument.  "So why did he
just try to kill Harry?  I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid.  I've read all
about them.  You've got to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking at all. 
I saw him."  

"I'm telling you you're wrong," replied Hagrid hotly.  "I don't know why
Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn't try to kill a student!  Now,
listen to me, all five of you.  It's dangerous.  You forget that dog and you
forget what it's guarding.  That's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas
Flamel-"  

"Aha!" crowed Harry.  "So, there's someone named Nicholas Flamel involved, is
there?"  

Hagrid clammed up, looking furious he'd let so much information slip.  I
decided to wait until we were away from Hagrid to talk to the others about my
part in this.  Hagrid obviously couldn't keep a secret.  

                                     * * *


"I know what Fluffy's guarding," I told Harry, Ron, and Hermione when we were
sure we were out of earshot of the students, teachers, ghosts, and portraits. 
"Sloth and I are actually helping protect it.  It's part of why we're here."  

"What's Snape after?" asked Harry.  

"The Philosopher's Stone," I said, only to be met with blank looks from Harry
and Ron.  

"what's that?" asked Ron.  

"You've really never heard of it?" I asked baffled.  

"I have," announced Hermione.  "After you explained who you are, I looked up
everything in the library I could find about alchemy.  According to what I
read, the principle goal of alchemy is the creation of the philosopher's
stone.  It can turn any metal into pure gold and be used to produce the elixir
of life.  That's where I remember the name Nicholas Flamel from.  He's the only
known creator of the Stone, and he's used the Elixir of Life to live over six
hundred years along with his wife."  

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!  No wonder Snape's
after it!  Anyone would want it!" exclaimed Harry.  

"Wait, Elixir of Life?" I asked.  

"It's a potion you can make if you've got the Philosopher's Stone," said
Hermione.  "If you drink it, it cures any illness and stops you from ageing for
a while.  Keep drinking it, and you'll never die."  

"Barring accidents or violence," interjected Sloth, working through the
implications.  

"I thought you two knew everything there was to know about alchemy," noted Ron.
 

"Apparently not," I admitted.  "Did the books say how to brew the Elixir?"  

Hermione nodded.  "I can lend them to you."  

"Thanks," I said.  

"It isn't Flame's stone in there, is it?" asked Harry.  "It's yours."  

"Both stones are there," I clarified.  

Ron almost fell over in astonishment.  "You have your own Philosopher's
Stone?!  What I woldn't give to be able to make a fortune of gold."  

"The wizarding world knows about potions," I began.  "That gives them one trick
we never learned.  But if they're using the Stone to make gold, that is, an
absolute waste of its true powers."  

"What are those?" asked Harry.  

"The Stone is an amplifier.  In the hands of someone with little knowledge of
alchemy, it can turn lead into gold and allow the use of alchemy without a
transmutation circle. In the hands of a skilled alchemist, there's almost
nothing it can't do.  It can even bring back the dead."  

"That's impossible," said Ron flatly.  "You can't bring people back from the
dead.  When folks try they get zombies and worse.  It's the dark arts."  

"I've never brought a human to life," I admitted.  "But Loki was dead for a
while and I used the Stone to bring him back.  And I know to brilliant
alchemist brothers who managed to bring each other back to life.  Edward and
Alphonse Elric wouldn't lie about that."  

"Either way, we can't let Snape steal it," said Harry.  

"Agreed," said Sloth.  "Even if he couldn't do much damage with it, Greed and I
need it to return to our world."  

"What exactly is guarding the Stone, apart from Fluffy?" asked Harry.  

Sloth and I looked at each other and I said, "We can't tell you."  

"Why not?" demanded Ron.  "You don't trust us?  Haven't we kept your secret?"  

"It's not that," I said quickly, backing up from Ron's indignant anger.  "Snape
can read minds."  

"What?!" all three of them asked in unison.  

"Sloth and I know how to make the Philosopher's Stone," I started to explain. 
"Dumbledore's been teaching us to keep people out of our minds so whoever was
after the Stone couldn't use what we know to make their own.  Then, just after
the troll, Snape tried to read my mind."  

"Anything we tell you about how the Stone's guarded," said Sloth, "we might as
well be telling Snape."  

                                     * * *


The occlumency training was progressing well.  Sloth and I had both mastered
the trick of setting up and holding a layer of false thoughts for an extended
period of time.  There was a turning point in the lessons when Dumbledore once
called a stop because he thought he'd penetrated our defenses but he'd really
just fallen for the false layer.  

While the lessons continued to help us shore up remaining weak points, Sloth
and I had mastered the use of the side effect we'd discovered.  We could now
both project a mental self-image, our alchemically active homunculus bodies
would shape shift to conform to it, and thereafter we could hold the new form
indefinitely.  We could even sleep and maintain a form without reverting back. 
As such, we both restored our memories of our true default forms and started
relying on this new skill to maintain the appearance of Hogwarts first years.  

Our studies in the conventional Hogwarts subjects were continuing well. 
Despite being certain Snape was plotting to steal the Stone, I felt comfortable
it was well protected.  And if it came down to it, we could just take the Stone
back from him.  Meanwhile, he was teaching us some very interesting potions. 
One in particular, I'd been hoping to try out all year.  

A major holiday was coming up and nearly everyone was going home to spend it
with their families.  Not really having anyplace to go, Sloth and I signed up
with our respective heads of house to stay at Hogwarts.  Meanwhile, I made good
use of the owl post to order things.  It was a gift giving holiday, and I got
into the spirit.  I made a set of wand holsters for Harry, Ron, and Hermione so
they wouldn't need to keep trying to stuff their wands into pockets.  

The Weasley ciblings and Harry were staying over the holidays with us.  Malfoy
tried to muster some lame insults about how none of us were wanted.  It amused
me how it fell almost as flat as his bizarre attempts to insult Harry for
having won the Quidditch game.  The good news was that we wouldn't have to put
up with him over the holidays.  

I'd made some expansions to the hidden lab Sloth and I maintained under the
Quidditch field.  A set of potions work spaces were added where I could try out
potions that took longer than a class period to seep, stew, or otherwise brew. 
I added planters and actually started doing what I'd told Professor Sprout I
was going to do, and started growing some useful plant based potion
ingredients.  I used up the last of the wizard money Dumbledore had given us
for school supplies, but since it looked like transmuting gold wasn't against
the law in this world, we shouldn't have trouble making more.  

On a stand, on top of a worktable laid out with library books and alchemy
notes, was a project I'd started working on a couple months into the term.  It
was a broomstick.  Alchemic diagrams covered the entire shaft of wood.  First
year students weren't allowed their own brooms (unless they were on the
quiditich team, apparently) so I hadn't been able to take it out for a test
flight.  I was pretty sure I'd managed to duplicate all the standard broomstick
enchantments and I'd even added a few features even the modern racing brooms
didn't have.  Meanwhile, Sloth and I had both gotten more dexterous riding the
useless school brooms and using red stones to handle the needed alchemy.  

Hermione left me a long reading list before she headed home to spend the
holidays with her family.  I think she included every book on this world's
understanding of alchemy that was in the library.  It turned out there wasn't
much on the subject Amestris didn't already know.  There were a few potions
with alchemic properties, but without the transmutation circle, this world's
alchemy had fallen way behind.  The Elixir of Life was the sole exception.  It
turned out brewing the Elixir was a relatively simple process.  Unfortunately,
experiments with my red stones indicated it had to be the real Stone.  I was
tempted to ask Dumbledore for my Stone back to experiment with, but it was
hardly urgent and I was quickly distracted by other matters.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
It took a while, but Sloth and Greed have finally befriended the Trio. 
Meanwhile, Snape is being as suspicious as ever.  Our interdimensional
travelers will be learning almost as much about their own powers here as they
will about the magic of this world, and this is where it all starts. 
***** Romantic Interlude 12 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 7) Romantic Interlude 12
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 8.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


When the holiday proper started, and there were no classes, Sloth and I slipped
out of the nearly abandoned Great Hall after breakfast and went out into the
snow covered Quidditch field.  Making sure we weren't seen, we descended into
our private lab.  

"Can you believe they actually gave us homework over the holiday?" Sloth
complained as we checked on the philosopher's flowers and harvested a handful
of red stones that were ready.  

"Mine's already done," I boasted.  "One good side effect of none of the
Ravenclaws wanting to talk to me.  Nothing to do but study when Loki and I go
back to the common room."  

"Where is Loki?" asked Sloth.  

"I lent him to Hagrid to keep Fang company.  With all the sick owls, he hasn't
had much time for Fang."  

"That's a good excuse," said Sloth slyly.  "Of course, it also means we won't
have to come up until dinner when people would start to miss us."  

"I had thought of that," I admitted.  

"What did you have in mind?" she asked playfully.  

"There is something new I'd like to try, if you're up for it," I said, then I
produced a camera.  

"Tell me more," said Sloth.  

"I've brewed up a big batch of the potion wizards use to develop moving
photographs," I said.  "I want to test it out, and I was hoping you'd be my
model."  

"You're not going to show them to anyone else," confirmed Sloth.  

"I didn't stick with the name Greed just because Wrath picked it out," I
replied.  "I don't want anyone but me seeing you naked."  

"What are you going to do with them?" Sloth asked.  

"For now, I thought they'd make for a great bedroom decoration down here."  

Sloth smiled, reverted to her four year old body, and stepped out of her
robes.  "How do you want me?"  

I shrugged off my robe and reverted to my adult form and replied, "In every
possible way.  But for now, how about you start by masturbating for a while and
I'll take some shots from different angles."  I ran my hand firmly over Sloth's
hairless pubic mound to tide me over as I used the camera to look but not
touch.  

The camera flashed brightly as Sloth ran one hand over her bare, flat chest and
the other over her crotch.  Sloth had put on a masturbation show for me before,
and she knew her audience.  It wasn't long before my throbbing erection had me
regretting my role as passive photographer.  

I wanted to get a shot of her writing in an artificially extended orgasm from
masturbating, but I decided there was no reason I had to shoot everything in
order.  "Can we get some shots of you sucking me off now?"  

"I knew you couldn't resist me," said Sloth, pleased with herself as she
continued to pleasure herself a moment longer to build tension before she sat
up and opened her mouth, her tongue lolling out expectantly.  

Getting the camera angles right was hard as Sloth ran her tongue up and down
the length of my shaft.  When her lips sealed around the tip, her hand squeezed
partway around my shaft and she sucked the head of my penis into her mouth, I
thought I'd managed one or two good shots.  

No camera could capture the things she was doing with her tongue to stimulate
me inside her overfull mouth.  It did catch her enthusiastic hands stroking me,
and the motion of her throat as she started swallowing the stream of semen I
started filling her mouth with as I reached my climax.  She drank more cum than
a quiditich team could produce, then let her mouth fill up and semen start
dribbling down her chin.  

Immensely satisfied with my orgasm complete, I set the camera aside and said,
"I'm going to go down on you now.  Once you start to cum, start masturbating
again to keep it going and I'll take the pictures."  

Sloth smoled broadly, displaying semen coated teeth and spread her legs for
me.  I bent down, smelled her hot, moist crotch, then grabbed Sloth's perfect
round butt with both hands and started licking her.  She'd gotten herself
pretty far along in the buildup, and she hadn't gotten less horny while sucking
my dick.  I teased her clit with my tongue a few times, inserted my tongue into
her vaginal opening, and she started orgasming.  

I reluctantly pulled away, and found Sloth was so into it that I needed to
guide her hand to her crotch and help her rub herself a few times before she
was back masturbating unaided through her artificially prolonged climax.  I
grabbed the camera and started taking pictures again, getting a number of good
shots as she awkwardly rubbed her crotch, thrust her hips, and moaned loudly.  

After she came down, I said, "That made for a great first round.  For round
two, I'll like on my back and you ride my erection until we've both finished
cumming again."  

"These pictures involve a lot of me doing all the work," noted Sloth.  

"They're going to be moving pictures," I reminded her.  "It seems like they'll
turn out better if the subject is doing things."  

"I'll be your fantasy model and do what you want me to do," said Sloth, "but
afterward, I want you to tie me to the bed and have your way with me for a
couple hours."  

"You want to be tied up?" I asked.  

"I wanted to try it," she replied.  

"Two more positions fro my list, then you can spend  the rest of the day on
your back tied up," I agreed.  

"Let's get started, then," she said eagerly and pushed me on to my back.  

I took a good picture of Sloth aligning my erect penis with her tight vagina. 
The camera flashed again and again as she got a determined look on her face and
gradually lowered herself down onto my penis.  After a few slow squats up and
down to fell herself being stretched by my girth, Sloth began bounding up and
down with enough enthusiasm that her twin braids of hair bounded above her
shoulders.  

I came first, hot sperm spurting into Sloth's tight vagina.  I sued the red
stones in my body to keep cumming inside my lover until she reached her own
orgasm.  She tossed her head back and practically sang as she continued to
bounce on my penis.  At length, we both allowed ourselves to be spent and we
separated, breathing hard.  I took a few pictures of Sloth breathing heavy in
the afterglow with sperm overflowing out of her pussy before explaining the
last shot I had in mind.  

"You'll need to be cleaned up for this," I said, clapping my hands and groping
Sloth.  The sweat and sexual fluids broke down in a bursts of blue light. 
"I'll set the camera up on a tripod.  You're going to be masturbating again,
and this time it'll be with me behind you and my dick up your butt."  

"So you'll be fucking my ass," confirmed Sloth, "but all the camera sees is me
going wild from it."  

"And the occasional grope or reach around from me," I said.  "I don't think
I'll be able to resist."  

"I like it," said Sloth enthusiastically.  "When you tie me up, make sure you
can turn me over and get at my butt too."  

"Can do," I agreed.  

Since the camera was stationary, we took a few minutes to figure out our
positions.  When we were confident we had it, I placed my hands on Sloth's hips
and lined my penis up between her butt cheeks.  Sloth hummed in anticipation
and started touching herself early.  From behind, I waited as Sloth relaxed her
anus and my penis pressed its way inside.  I couldn't see what the camera was
getting from the front, so I just pressed the clicker at semi-regular intervals
and whenever Sloth seemed to be particularly enjoying herself.  

Sloth rubbed her crotch and shifted her hips back and forth, enjoying the
experience immensely, as I hoped she would.  For my part, her tight asshole
felt incredible as it clenched around the shaft of my penis, and staring down
at her tiny body, I appreciated the minor miracle that I could fit at all.  

Once Sloth started cumming, I let myself do the same, filling her tight, tiny
ass with semen.  We came together long enough for me to snap a dozen photos of
my lover's orgasm.  Then we both let ourselves finish and Sloth leaned back to
rest against me, my softening penis still lodged up her ass.  

"Do you think the pictures'll turn out okay?" asked Sloth idlely.  

"Hopefully at least some of them will," I replied.  "Did you want to help
develop them, or should I go do that myself after you're tied up?"  

"You'd just leave me there?" gasped Sloth.  

"Anticipation is an aft form," I retorted.  "Besides, it's not like you can't
get out."  

"Okay, so here's what I'm thinking," said Sloth.  "It's back when we were still
fighting.  You've come up with a way to neutralize my powers and hold me
captive.  I start out defiant, but by the end, I'm begging you to stop."  

"Is this about feeling like you need to be punished for what Shao made you do?"
I asked uncomfortably.  

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Sloth said.  "It's more about... giving some
context to the fantasy.  The point is to be overpowered, outsmarted, and end up
at your mercy.  Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you get clever?"  

I considered for a long moment, then said, "I want a safe word.  You can beg,
cry, and scream all you want, but you say the word 'quill' and I stop and untie
you right away."

"If I want you to stop, I'll slip out of the ropes myself and you won't be able
to touch me, remember?"  

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," I said, quirking my lips into an arrogant
smirk.  I clapped my hands and touched the bed.  Four bedposts rose from the
corners, and a thin, filmy canopy extended between them.  A transmutation
circle was prominently displayed in its center.  

"What's that?" asked Sloth.  

In reply, I grabbed her arm roughly.  On reflex, she tried to pull away and
couldn't.  Her eyes widened in surprise.  "Quill," I repeated, and Sloth nodded
in acknowledgement, no doubt wondering how I'd done that.  All the explanation
I offered at the moment was, "I really am as clever as your fantasy."  

"Quill," she said, and I released my grip in an instant.  Then I clapped and
the array on the canopy erased itself.  

"Your powers should be working now," I said.  

"What did you do to me?" she asked, staring at her arm where I'd grabbed her.  

"Nothing," I said.  "The alchemy I used didn't target you at all."  

"Then how-?"  

"I can explain everything to you now," I offered, "or if you still want to play
out your fantasy, I can explain it to you once you're tied down and at my
mercy."  

She thought for a moment.  "The safe word is 'quill'?"  

I nodded.  

"Let's do it."  With that, she stood up, adopted her homunculus form, cleaned
up from our earlier activities, and caused her black dress to appear, all while
donning a superior smirk.  

In reply, I clapped and transmuted myself clean and donned my black pants and
vest with a thought.  An idea occurred to me in that moment, and I tried to use
the same occlumency trick I used to change my body to do the same to my
clothes.  I was suddenly wearing my blue State military uniform, complete with
silver pocket watch designating me a State Alchemist, and a pair of boots with
transmutation circles on their soles.  

Sloth rolled with it.  "So, I finally found your lab, Iron Sole Alchemist. 
Your little doggie won't save you this time."  

She rushed at me with superhuman speed, a hand extended and reaching for my
heart.  Before she could reach me, I clapped.  The array I'd used before
reappeared on the canopy of the bed.  Ropes transmuted from the bed sheets
snaked out at Sloth and wrapped around her ankles and wrists.  Then each rope
pulled itself taunt on a different corner of the bed.   As she struggled,
testing the ropes, her superior look faded into petulant anger.  I smiled.  

"I wrote the book on countering alchemy based abilities," I reminded her as I
tweaked her nose just to prove I could.  "You didn't think I was idle since our
last fight, did you?"  

"What is this?" she demanded as she struggled harder against the restraints. 
"Why can't I get loose?"  

"You may have guessed it has something to do with that array over your head," I
said, casually seating myself on the bed next to her.  "Your powers work based
on alchemic principles.  To pass through something you need to understand its
structure and composition.  Shifting the composition of your restraints subtly
every few seconds keeps you guessing."  I plucked the rope binding her left arm
and it twanged like a stringed instrument.  

"That explains the ropes," she said, frustrated, "and it explains why I can't
just drop through the bottom of the bed.  It doesn't explain why you can touch
me."  

"Oh, that," I said,, casually placing a hand on her thigh for emphasis. 
"Remember, I'm a homunculus too.  Transmuting my body is as easy as doing it to
a nonliving structure.  An imperceptible shift in the skin composition is all
it takes."  I then slid my hand along her thigh and up her skirt.  

Sloth squirmed and demanded, "What are you doing?"  

"Touching you whether you like it or not," I replied.  "All the things I've
learned fighting you have been leading up to this, and I'm going to enjoy my
victory."  

"You- you're not!  Let me go!" she called out in a panic.  

"I have a better idea," I said.  Then I clapped and placed a hand on her
chest.  Sloth's black clothing disappeared like a popped bubble.  

I licked my lips as I admired her naked body.  Sloth was really getting into
the scene.  I was starting to enjoy it myself.  I like passion and affection,
so I wasn't expecting this game to do much for me, but the reality of it,
knowing I could do whatever I liked to her and the only thing she could do to
stop me was say the safe word and trust me to respect it.  It was like when she
offered herself up so I could learn to manipulate the memories of a
homunculus.  Power in my hands and intense trust from her putting it there. 
Only this involved sex too.  

"Let's take some pictures for my research journal," I said holding up the
camera.  She tried to turn away as I took pictures from various angles, but the
ropes didn't give her much range of movement.  I clapped my hands and the
anchoring points for the ropes rearranged themselves, roughly flipping Sloth
over so I could take some pictures of her back side.  

"When I get out of this, you're going to pay," she threatened.  

I put down the camera and began kneading her ass.  "Then I guess I'd better
make the most of it while I've got you here."  I dismissed my clothing and
climbed on to the bed, spreading Sloth's butt cheeks and laying the shaft of my
penis along her crack.  

"What are you doing?" she asked, turning her head to look over her shoulder.  

"Trying out my new sex toy," I said with a smirk.  Then I started rubbing
myself between her butt cheeks.  

"Stop it!" she yelled.  

I complied on reflex, pulling away and standing up.  "You're right," I said as
smoothly as I could manage, trying to recover.  "The first load should go
straight on that mark of yours."  I started rubbing my penis against Sloth's
back, then came on the oroboros mark that served as the alchemic interface for
her consciousness.  

"So gross," Sloth complained.  

I clapped my hands and flipped her over again.  "But 'm being so selfish.  I
get off but I haven't returned the favor."  I gripped Sloth's crotch roughly
and thrust my face toward hers.  I kissed her mouth forcefully using the
element of surprise and pulled back quickly.  

"You must want it," I declared, working a finger into Sloth's tight pussy. 
"You had a chance to bite my tongue off right there."  

Sloth struggled to maintain a mask of defiance as my efforts induced an orgasm
out of her.  "Why don't you-"  She gasped as her body responded to my touch of
its own accord.  "Put your dick in my mouth-"  Another gasp as she couldn't
stop herself form cumming.  "And see if it gets bit off?"  She finished, then
called out, the full sensation hitting her as she no longer maintained the
concentration to keep threatening me.  

"That sounds great," I said, licking the juices I'd forced out of her from my
fingertips.  Then I shoved my cock into her mouth.  

Her teeth came down, but I was ready for it.  Her teeth cracked against the
Ultimate Shield.  I'd hardened just the portion of m penis that would be in
contact with her teeth, since that was the only threat and I wanted to feel the
inside of her mouth as she tried to force my penis out.  

I listened carefully to any sound that might be an attempt to say the safe word
as I held the back of her head and humped her face.  As usual, her mouth barely
contained the head of my penis, so when I started cumming, the only place for
the ejaculate to go was down her throat.  She fought against swallowing, and
after a few minutes, my cum was coming out of her nose and she was making
choking sounds.  I wrenched my penis out of her mouth and finished by spurting
semen all over Sloth's face, getting it in her hair, on her chin, and covering
a cheek.  

Sloth coughed up more cum and yelled, "You bastard!"  

"It was your suggestion," I reminded her smugly.  

After a moment, she said, "You set up the circle to transmute your cum too? 
You're sick."  

I grabbed the camera and took a few close up shots of Sloth coughing and
choking on my semen.  Then I started licking her gorgeous flat chest.  

"Please, just stop," begged Sloth as I latched on to a nipple and sucked.  

"We're just getting started," I told her.  "You sucked my cock like a pro, but
now it's time to take your virginity."  

Sloth's eyes widened as I positioned myself between her legs to do just that. 
"Please, don't do this.  Stop!"  She closed her eyes and screamed, tears
running down her face as I forced my penis inside her tight vagina in one firm
thrust.  

The scream faded into sobbing as I pulled in and out of Sloths' body, soon
reaching orgasm and filling her vagina up with cum.  I pumped her full, then
pulled out, my penis continuing to ejaculate.  Her stomach was decorated by the
last spurts of my orgasm.  

"You raped me," she said in a trembling voice.  "I thought you were supposed to
be the good guy."  

"Good?  Bad?  I'm the guy who beat you," I declared and then took more pictures
as she cried.  Once I was satisfied, I twisted one of her nipples and turned to
leave.  

"Where are you going?" Sloth demanded.  

"I'm going to get these pictures developed," I replied.  "Don't go anywhere."  

"You can't just leave me like this!"  

"I know you're eager for more," I said, "but you're a sex toy now.  I use you,
then I leave you until I feel like using you again.  You'll get used to it.  It
is your new life."  

I made sure there was a good acoustic listening tube between the bedroom and
the dark room, so I could hear if Sloth said the safe  word and needed to be
released.  I could hear her struggling with her bonds, screaming in
frustration, and sobbing to herself as I went over the film and developed the
photographs using the potion.  

The pictures moved.  Each one a continuous loop of Sloth in a different sexual
act.  In one picture, she was pictured forever swallowing my cum.  In another,
rubbing herself and showing her body off for the camera.  The photos turned out
better than I expected.  Minor issues of camera timing that were important in
muggle still photographs smoothed over when what was captured was not a single
instant, but a few minute worth of an event.  

About an hour after I left, I walked back into the bedroom with Sloth, holding
a stack of moving wizard photographs.  I used alchemy to stick them up on the
walls, pointedly ignoring Sloth.  

"You got what you wanted," begged Sloth pathetically.  "Please, just let me
go."  

"Actually, going through those pictures for the last hour got me really damn
horny," I remarked.  "I think I'll use your ass this time."  

I clapped my hands and the ropes again repositioned to force Sloth face down on
the bed.  I pulled Sloth's butt cheeks apart and shoved a pinky finger into her
asshole.  I had to see about stretching her out manually since she wouldn't be
cooperating with getting my dick in there.  

"Please, you don't have to do this.  Just stop."  

I ignored her pleas and forced my erect penis into her asshole even as she
tried to clench shut.  Sloth just cried into her pillow as I slaked my lust on
her tight butt.  After I came, I pulled out and turned her over again.  

"That really takes the edge off," I declared.  "I'm going to like having a sex
slave.  Here, let me show you your pictures.  Here's you choking on my cum.  I
think it turned out pretty good."  

I held her head when she tried to look away.  After I made her look at all the
pictures of her being raped, she asked, "Why are you doing this?"  

"You know I wanted to fuck you since the first day we met," I declared.  "Now I
can and you don't get a choice.  It's as simple as that.  Speaking of which,
showing you those pictures got me hard again.  I'll bet you're horny too after
that, so let's not waste time."  

It was part of the act, but it was also transparently true.  Leaving her naked
and tied to a bed, unable to touch herself for an hour, Sloth had gotten really
revved up.  She'd actually orgasmed while I was fucking her ass, but when I
shoved my dick into her pussy, she came so much harder and faster.  

Sloth was having trouble keeping up the act that she wasn't enjoying every
minute of this as I roughly fucked her orgasming vagina.  She actually let out
a moan of pleasure and leaned towards me as best the restraints would allow
before she caught herself.  I came inside her again, letting my orgasm prove an
answer to hers.  

"That felt great," I told her, rolling off to her side on the bed.  

"Are you satisfied?" spat Sloth.  

"Very," I said.  

"Then we're done here."  In an instant, Sloth's hands and feet disappeared. 
Once the ropes fell limp, her hands and feet reappeared.  She rolled off the
bed and into a standing position facing me with a hateful look in her eye.  The
she smiled warmly and said, "Quill."  

"Shape shifting!" I said and slapped myself on the forehead.  "I should have
realized you could use that to get out any time you wanted."  

Sloth leaned over and kissed my cheek.  "It's okay.  I didn't even think of it
until you left me alone to develop the pictures."  

"Other than that, was it everything you hoped for?" I asked.  

"You were great," said Sloth with enthusiasm.  "You can really do menacing when
you want to.  I was tempted to call it off a couple times just to make sure."  

I beamed at the compliment.  "So, what did you really think of the
photographs?"  

"They really do bring the room together," admitted Sloth.  "They're really
hot."  

"I'm glad you agree," I said, clapping to remove the array from the canopy. 
"Since you got yourself out and we've got about an hour before we need to be in
the Great Hall, what do you say we cuddle?"  

Sloth climbed into bed with me and pressed her naked body against mine.  She
buried her face in my chest and I squeezed her butt and hugged her tight.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
I hope you've enjoyed reading their first bondage scene as much as I enjoyed
writing it.  The photos will be plot sensitive much later on down the line, but
you'll see that when it comes. 
***** Christmas at Hogwarts *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 8) Christmas at Hogwarts
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


The feast in the Great Hall for Christmas eve saw only Harry, Ron, the twins,
Ron's older brother Percy, the Gryffindor prefect, a handful of other students,
and the faculty.  It didn't make much sense to divide out by House tables.  

Harry and Ron were engaged in a chess match as they ate.  When Harry's pieces
started protesting his chosen moves, I started to think the wizarding world was
more than a little too casual about making thing sentient.  Doubly so when Ron
took one of Harry's pieces and Ron's piece walked over to Harry's and beat it
unconscious before tossing it to the side of the board.  

"Please tell me this is like the photographs and those chess pieces just look
intelligent," I begged Ron as I sat down.  "I'm not going to be able to eat if
you're doing some twisted blood sport, pitting slave armies against each other
at the table."  

Ron looked up at me quizzically and said, "They're chess men."  

"Do you mind?" I asked, picking up one of Harry's pieces that had regained
consciousness and was moping at the side of the board.  

"Hello," Sloth greeted the chess piece.  "I'm Sloth.  What's your name?"  

"I'm Queen's Pawn, White," Identified the enchanted figure.  

"Can you tell me about yourself?" I asked.  

"I can tell you this dunderhead lost me to a knight in a rookie mistake," it
fumed.  

"I am a rookie," declared Harry.  "Everyone has to start learning the game
sometime."  

"That's why you should listen to our advice," affirmed the pawn.  "We've seen
more games than you, and I warned you about that knight."  

"What do you do between games?" I asked the pawn, trying to get the
conversation back on track.  

"What do you mean?" asked the pawn.  "We don't do anything between games. 
We're chessmen."  

"I told you," said Ron.  

"Do you have any hopes or fears?" asked Sloth.  

"I hope we can win the next game, but I'm afraid he'll still be calling the
shots."  

"Anything besides chess?" I asked, flustered.  

"I don't understand," said the piece.  

"Like you said," prompted Sloth, "you've been around a while.  You've seen
things that happen off the board.  Do you ever think about them at all?"  

"No," said the chessman.  

"You don't go to chessmen for conversation," said Ron.  "They can get better at
the game and learn new strategies, but try to talk to them about anything but
chess and they'll just stare at you."  

"A purpose built mind," I mused.  "Invested with language skills and the
ability to learn, but unable to even think outside the rules of the game."  

"So, they're not on par with the portraits," said Sloth.  "They sort of think,
but not quite like a person."  

"I think we're good, then," I said slowly and got some food.  

While Harry and Ron's one sided chess game continued, Fred and George, the
Weasley twins, boasted about bewitching some snowballs earlier in the day to
launch themselves at the turban Professor Quirrell wears.  They'd apparently
hit a few times before Filch caught them.  

As I listened, my eyes kept being drawn back to the chessmen.  Percy must've
noticed, as he came over and sat down next to Sloth and I.  

"Lots of muggleborns have those sorts of questions," explained Percy.  "The
ministry has classifications for nonhumans that make sure we give rights and
protections to those who need it.  Enchanted chessmen can't ever be anything
more than chessmen.  They can learn to be good at chess, but they can't learn
things that have nothing to do with chess."  

Percy's explanation was comforting.  At least it meant people here weren't
ignoring the possibility.  After we ate, I pulled Sloth aside to talk privately
before we retired to our respective empty dorms.  

"What do you think about the chessmen?" I asked her.  

"My father wanted to make a doll and a weapon when he was making me," Sloth
said thoughtfully.  "But both of his creations couldn't help but grow beyond
what he wanted them to be.  He kept Nina in line with memory wipes and Sloth
with threats.  If the chessmen really don't need that kind of control to keep
them from growing beyond chess, I think they must not really be people.  They
just do a good impression."  

"That makes sense," I acknowledged.  Then, "Whatever magic was used to make
them is going to be crazy to duplicate with alchemy."  

"You'll figure it out," said Sloth with supreme confidence.  

                                     * * *


When I awoke the next morning in the empty Ravenclaw dorm, I found the wand
holsters I'd wrapped and labeled for Harry and Ron were gone.  (Hermione's had
been sent home with her.)  In their place were some packages with my name on
them that hadn't been there the previous night.  Hogwarts apparently had a
delivery service of some sort.  Probably the same one that delivered our trunks
to our dorms.  Putting that mystery aside, I opened my gifts.  

Hermione had sent me a box of cauldron cakes, my favorite of the wizard sweets
I'd sampled thus far.  Hagrid had sent a package addressed to Loki.  With the
dog offering no objections, I opened it for him, revealing a half a pound of
cooked bacon.  Deciding it was best to ration that out through the day, I gave
the excited dog the first piece right away.  

"We'll have to say thank you to Hagrid,, won't we, boy?" I said as he gobbled
up the treat.  "I got you something too."  

Loki didn't know it was a holiday, nor did he really care that I'd wrapped his
gift, but I'd gotten into the holiday.  The package contained a collar,
decorated with an alchemic array and had a red stone attached to the front.  It
would interface with the array tattooed under his fur and allow him to change
forms without damaging the surrounding environment or dumping organic waste.  A
single stone should give him two or three changes before needing to be
replaced.  

The last package was from Sloth.  Inside was a gold pedant on a chain.  A
transmutation circle was engraved on the front.  Pressing my thumb to it, the
array activated, creating a seam and hinge in the solid metal, revealing it to
be a locket.  Inside was a small wizard photo of Sloth smiling warmly and
waving.  I closed the locket, used the array to reseal it, and put it on.  

Loki and I wore our new necklaces proudly as we went down to the Great Hall. 
Sloth arrived just after we did.  Noticing I was wearing her locket, Sloth
asked, "Do you like it?"  

"I love it," I said.  "You must've put a lot of effort into it, between the
picture and the array."  

"I wanted to get you something you couldn't just clap your hands and make," she
said proudly.  "It isn't easy shopping for a master alchemist," she teased.  

"I got something for you too," I said, "but Filch'd take it away if he saw, so
it's downstairs."  

"And to think," Sloth mused with an affectionate smile, "my job used to be to
corrupt you."  

I gave her a kiss, then grabbed some sweet rolls and ran outside.  The arrays
on my boots let me run across the top of the snow without sinking in or leaving
tracks.  Sloth used her powers to pass through the snow, running along the
frozen ground beneath.  If we were lucky, no one would miss us.  

When we reached the Quidditch field, Sloth pulled us below ground, and into our
private lab.  I approached a blank wall near one of the workstations, clapped
my hands, and transmuted a large drawer, which I then opened.  Inside was a
long, wrapped package.  Sloth tore it open, revealing a broomstick similar to
the one I'd been designing for my own use.  The array was different, designed
to run off a red tone that was embedded in the shaft.  A number of broken lines
in the array prevented it from activating.  

"I hope you like it," I began.  "I know remaking the array every time you want
to turn or stop in mid-flight is making flying harder for you.  Each sub array
can be activated by adding one line, and all the features for staying on and
cushioning potential crashes are in each sub array."  

"How long have you been working on this?" asked Sloth.  

"Since I finished mine," I replied.  "I wanted to give you something
practical."  

"I love it," she declared, hugging me.  

"Let's get back topside before we're missed," I suggested, transmuting her a
stand for her broomstick before we left.  

                                     * * *


A feast had been prepared in the Great Hall.  Along the tables, wizard party
favors called crackers had been laid out.  Watching the Gryffindors to see how
to use them, Sloth and I each grabbed on and pulled one apart.  An explosion
like an artillery shell but with no physical damage accompanied the appearance
of a large, fur hat, some mice, and a slip of paper with a joke written on it.
 

We pulled a few more crackers, accumulating some magical merchandise considered
minor enough to count as party favors, including wizard chess sets.  We also
had more hats of various descriptions than we knew what to do with by the time
we actually started eating.  

After everyone was full, it was mutually agreed we would drop off our prizes in
our trunks and meet up outside for a snowball fight.  I arrived on the
battlefield a bit late, since the riddle for today was tricky and I was anxious
to get outside.  I eventually figured it out, but that meant I arrived outside
to a vigorous snow war already in progress.  

The game was a free for all, with no particular rules or sides.  Harry turned
out to be better at dodging thrown projectiles than even Sloth and I, who'd
seen actual combat.  I hit the ground running, having learned from hard
experience just how much harder it was to hit a moving target than a stationary
one.  

As I ran, I scooped up some snow to make my projectile.  I launched it at Ron,
who didn't quite duck in time, his maroon sweater gaining a frosting of
snowflakes from the hit.  Meanwhile, I took a hit from behind.  Sloth had
beaned me i the shoulder.  I dropped to the ground and rolled behind a drift
for cover.  

A pair of snowballs flew over my head while I was behind cover, and then curved
back around to hit me in the back of the head.  Fred and George had used the
same trick on Quirrell.  Probably a variant of the spell they put on bludgers
in Quidditch.  

"So, we're using our powers now?" I called over the drift as I balled up some
snow.  "Okay, let's play."  I carved a transmutation circle into the snowball
and lobbed it over the barrier.  Like with the bullets of the Gunslinger
Alchemist, the array activated on impact, transmuting a hundred snowballs and
sending them flying in every direction.  Sloth and Harry made it to cover.  The
Weasleys didn't.  

With that, a common rule of no magic was quickly agreed to, and I was
subsequently on the receiving end of some retribution peltings from the
Weasleys, with Ron having directed the others to flank me and neutralize my
cover.  

Once they had their revenge for my snowball grenade, the fight went back to a
free for all.  It lasted hours, Sloth and I needing to fake fatigue after a
certain point to avoid revealing we weren't human.  Everyone was soaked to the
bone by the time we went back inside around sunset.  

It had been fun, but I was glad to get back to the privacy of the Ravenclaw
common room, clap my hands, and press my palms against my robes.  A burst of
blue light dried me instantly and I sat down next to one of the fireplaces. 
Giving Loki the last of his treats from Hagrid, I set up my wizard chess set,
grabbed one of the cauldron cakes from Hermione, and played against the
chessmen for a few hours.  

Extended interaction with the chessmen confirmed Percy's assessment.  While
playing chess, they could do a good impression of being alive, outside that
context they understood nothing and couldn't learn.  Loki was at least capable
of learning and adapting to new situations, but if it wasn't a chess strategy,
they couldn't.  

Thinking about it, imbuing this sort of limited intelligence had to be at the
root of a lot of what wizards do.  The homing snowballs were made smart enough
to identify and track a target.  The golden snitch was invested with the flight
characteristics of a bird.  The only reason the chessmen stood out is that they
had a memory and the ability to talk.  

                                     * * *


The next day, I was sketching transmutation circles in a notebook over
breakfast.  There had been a time when Alphonse Elric had seriously considered
whether he was a real person who's soul had been attached to a suit of armor,
or if Edward had created his consciousness from whole cloth.  That wasn't the
case for Al, but since homunculi like Sloth exist with a body and mind but no
soul, it might actually be possible to create the kind of consciousness Al
thought himself to be.  I'd never tried because of ethical concerns, but making
a more limited mind like the chess men would avoid the ethical problem, but
only if I got the design of the mind just right.  

I was interrupted by Harry, who had Ron in tow.  He grabbed me and Sloth and
spoke excitedly as we sat down together.  "I saw my parents last night!"  

"Where?" asked Sloth.  

"How?" asked Ron.  

"I snuck out of bed last night and found a magic mirror.  It showed me my mom
and dad."  

"You used the cloak?" asked Ron.  "You could have woken me up."  

"You can come tonight.  I'm going back.  I want to show you the mirror."  

"I'd like to see your mom and dad," said Ron, forgetting his irritation at
having been left out last night.  

"And I want to see your family, all the Weasleys.  You'll be able to show me
your other brothers and everyone," declared Harry.  

"You can see them any old time.  Just come round my house this summer.  Anyway,
maybe it only shows dead people," replied Ron.  

"I wonder what it'll show me," mused Sloth.  "My family situation is
complicated."  

"Only one way to find out," I said, putting my arm around her shoulder.  

"Harry," said Ron.  "Have some bacon or something.  Why aren't you eating
anything?  Are you all right?  You look odd."  

                                     * * *


Sloth and I waited outside the hall leading to the Gryffindor tower. 
Eventually, we heard a "pst," whisper and an unseen hood was drawn back,
revealing Harry and Ron's heads floating in midar.  

"It's an invisibility cloak," explained Ron quietly.  

"I got it for Christmas," added Harry.  "The note said it used to be my
father's."  

"It'll be a tight fit, but I think we can all get under it," said Ron.  "That
way Filch won't catch us out of our dorms."  

Sloth and I squeezed under the silvery cloak and found we could no longer see
our own bodies.  

"Don't worry about bumping in to anyone," said Sloth.  

"Right," said Harry, remembering Sloth's phasing the two of them through the
troll's club.  

Harry couldn't quite recall where he'd found the mirror, and after an hour, Ron
complained, "I'm freezing.  Let's forget it and go back."  

"No!" hissed Harry emphatically.  "I know it's here somewhere."  

We all fell silent as a ghost passed us by.  When it was gone, Harry recognized
the door nearby and led us inside.  He ducked out from under the crowded
invisibility cloak and ran to face the mirror.  "See?"  

"I can't see anything," said Ron, and neither could I.  Harry was reflected and
no one was standing around his reflection.  

"Look!  Look at them all!  There are loads of them," declared Harry looking at
the area surrounding his reflection.  

"I can only see you," said Ron.  

"Look in it properly," said Harry.  "Stand where I am."  

Ron stared at his reflection with wonder.  "Look at me!"  

"Can you see all your family standing around you?" asked Harry.  

"No.  I'm alone, but I'm different.  I look older, and I'm Head Boy!"  

"What?" asked Harry.  

"The vision must be unique to each person," I mused.  "And private.  None of us
can see your vision while you're using the mirror."  

Sloth gave a sigh of relief at that.  I didn't blame her.  

Ron continued describing what he saw.  "I am- I'm wearing the badge like Bill
used to, and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup.  I'm Quidditch
Captain too!"  Ron turned around and asked, "Do you think this mirror shows the
future?"  

"How can it?" asked Harry.  "All my family are dead."  

"Let me try," asked Sloth, nimbly stepping into position while Ron was
distracted.  She gasped.  All three of us fell silent and looked at her.  

"What do you see?" asked Harry.  

"I... I'm doing alchemy."  

"That's all?" asked Ron.  "Why did you gasp?"  

"You don't understand," said Sloth.  "When I do alchemy, I'm really just making
a circle and letting a red stone power it.  A real alchemist circulates energy
between the circle and their soul.  Greed, I have a soul!"  

"What is this mirror?" I asked, suspiciously.  I looked over the gold frame and
saw an unhelpful inscription on the top.  

"Why don't you try it," suggested Harry.  Sloth pulled her gaze from the
reflection and stepped aside.  

When I was centered around the mirror, the reflection changed.  I was reflected
at my true adult height, in my pale skinned, black haired homunculus form with
violet, slitted eyes.  Sloth was at my side, also in her true homunculus form. 
She was dressed in a white gown.  

The room behind us was no longer the unused Hogwarts classroom.  It looked like
the temple of Leto.  Arranged in the pews, I could make out all the people I'd
come to know and care about back in our world.  I could see Edward and Alphonse
in the front row.  Melvin, Ken, and even Frank  were off on one side.  Wrath
and Izumi were sitting together with Sig.  

I don't know how long I spent examining the sight before Ron asked, "What's it
showing?"  

"It's our wedding," I said, holding a hand out to Sloth without taking my eyes
off the image.  "Everyone's there.  Leo, Rick, Mustang and his people.  Ed, Al,
Winry and Pinako.  Folks like Psiren and Paninya are there too, even after what
happened last time we met.  And there are even dead people like Izumi and
Wrath."  

"Is my father there?" asked Sloth.  

I scanned the image and shook my head.  "Al's there, but no Shao.  What do you
think it means?"  

"Let me have another look," asked Harry.  

"You had it all to yourself last night," argued Ron.  "Give me another turn."  

"You're only holding the Quidditch Cup," declared Harry.  "What's interesting
about that?  I want to see my parents!"  

They both started shoving me out of the way when a noise from the corridor
caused us all to frieze.  Sloth thought fast, grabbed up the invisibility
cloak, and tossed it over the three of us already crowded together, then
slipped under herself.  

Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, poked her head inside.  It was common knowledge Mrs.
Norris was able to report back to Filch and bring him to the scene of rule
breaking.  I'd never had cause to put those rumors to the test before now.  

When she'd gone for Filch, Ron said, "This isn't safe.  She might have gone for
Filch.  I bet she heard us.  Come on."  He pulled us out of the room and got
Sloth and I back to our dorms.  

                                     * * *


The Gate opened on many other worlds.  Maybe an infinite number of them.  Did
the mirror let us see our doubles on one or more of those worlds?  It wasn't
much use speculating.  There just wasn't enough information to narrow down the
possibilities.  

I had a hard time concentrating on the chess men project I'd taken on.  The
image I'd seen in the mirror kept returning to my thoughts.  Rather than do
shoddy work on something so important, I went to see what Sloth was doing.  

I found her poking at a conventional transmutation circle while she sat by a
window overlooking the grounds.  

"Can't get the mirror out of your head either?" I said as I sat down with her.
 

"I wondered if maybe it was showing me I had the potential in me all along,"
she said.  "I guess not.  What've you been up to?"  

"I was working on the chessmen," I replied, "but I can't stop thinking about
what I saw in the mirror."  

"Do you think Ron was right and it is the future?" asked Sloth.  

"We know raising the dead is possible," I conceded, "but something about that
explanation doesn't sit right."  

"There's a lot we don't know about this world's magic," said Sloth.  

"That's why we're taking the classes," I said.  

                                     * * *


Ron didn't join us when Harry came under the invisibility cloak to get us that
night.  We arrived without incident and without getting lost this time, and
Harry immediately sat down in front of the mirror.  

"So, back again, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.  He'd been seated on a desk when
we'd come in and nobody noticed.  

"I- I didn't see you, sir," said Harry, looking pale and guilty.  

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," mused Dumbledore,
smiling benignly.  

"Hello," I said lamely, and Sloth just silently waved.  He didn't look upset,
but the sudden worry of being expelled rose to the surface of my mind once
again.  I'd barely scratched the surface of the secrets this school could
teach.  

Dumbledore went to sit down with Harry.  Sloth and I followed suit.  "So, you
like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of
Erised."  

"The name's on the inscription," I said, recognizing the first word from my
inspection last night.  

"I expect you've realized by now what it does?" asked Dumbledore.  

"It... Well, it shows me my family," replied Harry.  

"I saw my wedding," I added.  

"It showed me doing alchemy," said Sloth.  

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy," finished Dumbledore.  

"How do you know-?" began Harry.  

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," noted Dumbledore.  "Now, can you
think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"  

Sloth and I stared.  Harry shook his head.  

"Let me explain," offered Dumbledore.  "The happiest man on earth would be able
to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror.  That is, he would look into
it and see himself exactly as he is.  Does that help?"  

Comprehension dawning, I said, "Erised.  Desire.  The inscription's written
backwards."  

"It shows us what we want," said Harry, "whatever we want."  

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore.  "It shows us nothing more or less than the
deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.  You, who have never known your
family, see them standing around you.  Ronald Weasley, who has always been
overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of
them.  However," said Dumbledore, looking each of us in the eye, "this mirror
will give us neither knowledge or truth.  Men have wasted away before it,
entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it
shows is real or even possible.  

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I ask all of you not to
go looking for it again.  If you ever do run across it, you will now be
prepared.  It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.  Remember
that.  Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"
 

"It does tell us one thing," I said, getting up.  "It tells us what we want
deep down, even if we aren't sure ourselves."  

"Sir?  Professor Dumbledore?" asked Harry.  "Can I ask you something?"  

"Obviously, you've just done so.  You may ask me one more thing, however," he
replied, amused.  

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"  

"I?  I see myself holding a pair of thick woolen socks," said Dumbledore.  As I
stared skeptically, he continued, "One can never have enough socks.  Another
Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair.  People will insist
on giving me books."  

True or not, I mused on the way back to my dorm, that did make shopping for
next year's Christmas presents for Dumbledore easy.  

                                     * * *


Sloth and I met up early the next day.  The mirror had clarified something
important for us, and now knowing the contexts of our visions, we needed to
talk.  

"I'll do everything in my power to make what you saw a reality," I told Sloth. 
"An enchanted castle full of ghosts and a library of forbidden lore is the
perfect place to do research on the nature of the soul."  

"Just be careful," requested Sloth.  "Take it slow and don't move forward until
you're sure you know what you're doing.  I don't want anything to happen to
you.  Or me for that matter."  

"I promise," I told her.  "We have plenty of time after all.  And I don't think
I could live with myself if I screwed it up and lost you."  

"So," asked Sloth with a smirk as she changed the subject, "I'd ask if you
wanted to talk about wedding plans, but it sounds like a big guest list is
important."  

"I think it was about more than that," I said.  "Everyone there was happy for
us.  They accepted us, even after knowing about our nature and the broken
taboos."  

"I can't make everyone accept us," said Sloth, leaning her forehead against
mine, "but at least we know the people who do are our real friends."  

Near tears, I choked out, "I love you."  

"Do you have to do that in the halls?" asked an annoyed voice.  

"Ron," I replied, separating from Sloth and wiping my face.  "Just the person
we wanted to see."  

"What did you want with me?" he asked, taken aback.  

"We were talking about the mirror," said Sloth.  "Did Harry tell you what
Dumbledore said about it?"  

"Yeah," said Ron.  "He said it could drive you mad."  

"Even so," I said, "thanks to the mirror, we all know something pretty intimate
about each other.  Dumbledore wants socks and socks he shall get.  Sloth and
I've been talking about our visions.  I don't think there's anything we can do
to make Harry's desire come true.  Even with the Philosopher's Stone, I think
I'd need to know the person I'm trying to bring back to life.  But I think
there's something we can do for you."  

"You know a way to make me Head Boy?" asked Ron, confused.  

"We can help you stand apart from your siblings," I said.  "Give you an
accomplishment that none of them beat you to, and will be more important than
any of them."  

Ron was intrigued and asked, "What is it?"  

"Remember how we said alchemy in this world is way behind our world?" I asked. 
"How would you like to be the first wizard ever to learn modern alchemy?"  

"I could make my own Philosopher's Stone," mused Ron.  

"No!" I snapped.  "There are secrets about the Stone, prices you don't
understand.  The Stone's lore is dangerous.  Most alchemist who learned how to
make it abandoned their research or went insane.  Besides, if I tell you how to
make the Stone and Snape reads your mind..."  

"What if I learned to keep him out like you?" asked Ron.  

"Then I'll tell you everything," I agreed.  "But for now, put the Philosopher's
Stone out of your mind.  Like I said, the alchemy I'm offering to teach is much
more advanced than this world knows.  I don't need the Philosopher's Stone to
turn lead into gold, and if you study, neither will you."  

"You can do that?" asked Ron.  

I took a silver coin I'd found in the Christmas pudding out of my pocket, and
flipped it in the air.  As it flipped, I clapped my hands and caught the coin. 
Blue sparks flew off my closed fist.  Then I opened it to reveal the gold coin.
 

"What do you say, Ron?" I asked.  "It'll mean a lot of studying.  Math,
chemistry, geology, and more.  Do you think you're up for it?"  

Staring hungrily at the coin, and the power it represented, Ron asked, "How do
we get started?"  

"I'll cover the early lessons," said Sloth.  "Teaching this stuff used to sort
of be my job."  

"No red stones," I stipulated.  "We won't do him any good giving him
shortcuts.  When he's got a handle on conventional alchemy, we'll move on to
amplifiers."  

"Of course," agreed Sloth cheerfully.  "We wouldn't want him triggering a
rebound and tearing his own arm off or worse."  

                                     * * *


Properly motivated, Ron proved an apt and dedicated student.  He'd prepared and
used his first transmutation circle before the end of the day.  While the
results of that first transmutation lacked the magic that had been there for my
first transmutation, it still encouraged Ron that he could do this.  

I sat in on the first few lessons, but Sloth clearly didn't need my help.  She
couldn't do this kind of alchemy herself, but teaching it to Karin, Leo, that
had been most of what Shao made her do in pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone. 
And as I understood it, it was a big part of what Dante had made her homunculi
do before that.  It was nice seeing those teaching abilities being used for
good.  

Once it became clear I wasn't needed, I spent my time in the library, looking
for information on the nature of the soul.  Like in our world, the concept was
muddied by a lot of religious assertions and poetry.  I hadn't made much
progress by the end of the break.  

Ron, Sloth, Harry, and I greeted Hermione when she got back and told her what
had happened while she was gone.  She fussed at the idea of us sneaking out at
night.  When Ron mentioned we'd started teaching him alchemy, she immediately
asked, "Is it too late for me to start those lessons?"  

I opened my mouth to speak, but Harry spoke up first.  "Hermione, the point was
to give Ron something all his own.  If you're learning it too, it defeats the
purpose."  

"Besides," I added before either she or Ron could speak, "while Sloth teaches
him basic alchemy, I need your help on a more advanced project."  

I felt bad about using her curiosity against her like that, but Harry was
right.  The point was to give Ron something of his own.  Once he mastered the
skill, she could learn it from him.  

"What are you working on?" she asked.  

"Remember how we explained about being homunculi?" I asked.  "I was originally
human, and attached my soul to this body.  Sloth's fully artificial.  I need
your help learning everything there is to know about the soul so I can try and
make one for Sloth."  

"You can't make souls," said Ron.  

"You can't make gold either," I retorted.  "I figure if I can learn what a soul
is made of, how it's put together, I might be able to do something with
alchemy."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
While the specific visions didn't really amount to much in the original books,
keep an eye out for them to come back again later in this story.  Dumbledore
isn't the only one Greed will be Christmas shopping for. 
***** Hagrid's Dragon *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 9) Hagrid's Dragon
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *
Regular classes resumed the next day. Harry's free time was being taken up by
Quidditich practice. Whenever he was at practice, the rest of us were at the
library. Sloth was making Ron study chemistry using the library's resources and
her own additions. It was important background knowledge if you're going to do
anything with alchemy. Hermione and I, meanwhile, sat opposite one another
quietly reading to see if anything useful was in the books, outside the ever
tempting restricted section.
A few weeks into this routine, and Harry came to see us after practice, looking
worried. We quickly filed out of the library and into an empty classroom where
Harry explained that Snape had volunteered to referee the next Quidditch match
between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
"Don't play," said Hermione immediately.
"Say you're ill," suggested Ron almost as quickly.
"Pretend to break your leg," offered Hermione.
"Really break your leg," came Ron's addition. He was clearly worried after
Harry'd nearly been killed last time.
"I can't. There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at
all," said Harry.
"If we had more proof he tried to jinx you last game, we could get him
arrested," I said, frustrated.
"We could break Snape's leg," suggested Sloth. When we all stared at her, she
pointed to Hermione and said, "Don't look at me like that. You set him on
fire."
So, that had been how she'd interrupted the jinx last game. It was a shame my
focus had been elsewhere. Our conversation was interrupted by a loud thud from
the hall. Looking out, we saw Neville on the floor, trying to get upright
despite his legs being stuck together with a leg locker curse.
Hermione quickly performed the countercurse and asked, "What happened?"
Neville got to his feet and said, "Malfoy. I met him outside the library. He
said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."
"Is he still there?" I asked, drawing my wand and of a mind to give him a taste
of his own medicine, but Neville shook his head.
"Go to Professor McGonagall! Report him!" urged Hermione.
"I don't want more trouble," he said with his eyes on the floor.
Ron declared, "You've got to stand up to him, Neville. He's used to walking all
over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it
easier."
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor," said
Neville almost sobbing. "Malfoy's already done that."
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," declared Harry, giving Neville a chocolate
frog he had in his robe pocket. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor,
didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slyterin."
"If he's been using Hufflepuff like it's an insult again, I'll make him eat his
pointed hat," declared Sloth.
"Thanks Harry," said Neville, unwrapping the chocolate frog. "I think I'll go
to bed now. Do you want the card? You collect them, don't you?"
Neville walked off and Harry looked at the card, declaring, "Dumbledore again.
He was the first one I ever got."
"I still need him," I mentioned. "I've got some I can trade." I pulled out a
stack of cards I kept on me for trades and let Harry find one he was missing.
                                     * * *
In preparation for the Quiditich game, Ron and Hermione practiced the leg
locker curse to use on Snape if he tried anything. I brought my camera to
capture evidence of him in the act this time, so if he tried to hurt Harry
again, it would be the last time. Sloth was in charge of conducting any actual
rescue needed.
Ron and Hermione tried to talk Harry out of playing right up until he
disappeared into the locker room. When we made our way up to the stands, we saw
Dumbledore was in attendance. It seemed he'd taken Harry's earlier fall
seriously, which was a relief after Hagrid had brushed it off.
Sloth was off with her housemates, since despite not wanting Harry dead, she
was still cheering for her house team. I was confident that she'd handle
anything that happened to Harry. I was with Ron and Hermione in a spot with
good sight lines on where Snape was refereeing from his broomstick. My camera
was in hand and half-raised, while Ron and Hermione kept their wands
accessible. As usual, Loki was with me.
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," said Ron, noting the dark look on the
potions master's face, prompting me to take a picture for context. "Look,
they're off. Ouch!"
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there," came the voice of Draco Malfoy in a
tone that made it clear whatever he'd done was deliberate. "Wonder how long
Potter's going to stay on his broom this time. Anyone want a bet? What about
you, Weasley?"
None of us had anything to say to Draco, keeping our attention firmly focused
on the field. Snape was proving to be an incredibly biased referee, awarding
the Hufflepuff team penalties for things I was pretty sure were normal parts of
the game.
Like a buzzing insect, Draco continued to try to get a rise. "You know how I
think they choose people for the Gryffindor team? It's people they feel sorry
for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys,
who've got no money. You should be on the team, Longbottom. You've got no
brains."
"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," retorted Neville in a nervous, halting tone
that drew derisive laughs from Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.
Ron didn't look away from the match, but firmly and earnestly said, "You tell
him, Neville."
Draco caught his breath and sneered, "Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be
poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something.
That hit a nerve, and Ron snapped, "I'm warning you, Malfoy. One more word..."
At that point, Harry dove toward the ground. It didn't look uncontrolled, but
it drew expressions of concern from my companions.
"Let Sloth keep an eye on Harry," I advised them, trying to stick to the plan
and keep photographing Snape.
"You're in luck, Weasley," said Draco now that he'd found an insecurity to poke
at. "Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground."
Ron had controlled his temper pretty well until that point, but Draco's cracks
about his family combined with his already frayed nerves worrying about Harry
were more than he could take, and he threw himself at Malfoy. Neville paused,
unsure of what to do, but when Crabbe and Goyle went to back Malfoy up, Neville
scrambled to interpose himself.
I couldn't risk backing them up and missing evidence of Snape's attempted
murder of Harry, and Hermione was now the only one with a wand on Snape. Unable
to intervene directly, I gave Loki a signal.
My dog turned toward the fighters and growled. Blue light poured from beneath
his fur, mixing with red light from the transmutation circle on his collar.
With the red stone in his collar, the benches didn't break down to fuel the
drastic increase in Loki's mass. In a flash, the three hundred pound chimera
shoulder-checked Crabbe and Goyle off Neville protectively. The green scaled,
gold maned chimera parted his lips to grown at Malfoy, bearing a massive jaw
full of teeth. At the sight, Ron and Draco stopped fighting and Draco scrambled
away as fast as he could, followed by Crabbe and Goyle once they regained their
feet.
While all this was going on, Harry had caught the golden snitch and won the
game for Gryffindor. Hermione hugged me, so excited that her house was in the
lead. With Draco and his gang gone, Loki relaxed and reverted to his plain,
brown dog form. Again the collar glowed red and the stone allowed him to
violate equivalent exchange, this time by not shedding his lost mass as an
organic slurry at his feet. Ron hesitantly petted the dog as he got to his
feet. Then, noticing what had happened on the Quidditch field, he waved to
Harry and cheered.
Once Harry was safely on the ground, being congratulated by Dumbledore, I took
one last picture of Snape's disgruntled expression, then turned to Ron. "Give
me a hand getting Neville to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey can take a look
at that bloody nose while you're there."
                                     * * *
An hour or so after the game, I was pretty sure our efforts had been for
nothing, since Snape hadn't dared make a move with Dumbledore watching. Sloth
was mildly annoyed that Hufflepuff had lost in record time, but we were both
agreed the short match had left Snape fewer opportunities to attack Harry.
As we were talking, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found us and pulled us into an
empty classroom. Harry'd heard Snape and Quirrell talking about the Stone.
"So, we were right," said Harry. "Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him
get the Philosopher's Stone. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy, and he
said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus'. I reckon there are other things
guarding the Stones apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments probably, and
Quirrell would have done some anti-dark arts spell that Snape needs to break
through."
"So you mean the Stones are only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape,"
said Hermione.
"They'll be gone by next Tuesday," snarked Ron.
"Our occlumency lessons ended a couple weeks ago," I said. "I almost never see
Dumbledore someplace we could tell him about this without Snape overhearing."
"And if he's been intimidating the other teachers into helping him," added
Sloth, "we can't just go to one of them."
"Hagrid's safe," said Harry. "Snape still doesn't know how to get past Fluffy."
"He didn't believe Snape tried to kill you, Harry," said Hermione.
"He probably wouldn't pass along an accusation about Snape," agreed Harry, "but
he's loyal to Dumbledore."
"Between Quirrell's spell and Fluffy, the Stones are safe for the moment," said
Sloth. "I say we go back to what we were doing before and keep an eye out for
evidence we can use to prove what Snape's up to."
                                     * * *
Except for occasionally checking on the third floor corridor to make sure
Fluffy was still alright, things went back to normal for a while. We were
transfiguring larger objects, and burning through red stones a bit faster, but
nowhere near as fast as we were producing them. It was getting harder to keep
up with the written homework, my research into the nature of the soul, and my
resumed attempt to understand and duplicate the chessmen. To resolve the
conflict, I just stopped sleeping.
Near midnight, I was in the Ravenclaw common room. Loki was asleep in my bed.
I'd sorted through both the assigned homework and the study guide Hermione had
prepared. For the last three hours, I'd been going over my notes on soul
attachment, memory modification, and cognitive function. Progress had been
coming rapidly when I remembered Cornello had animated the Leto statues back in
Liore to hunt down and subdue the Elric brothers independently.
I was certain it was an equivalency problem, requiring red stone energy to
produce the rudimentary consciousness that could then be manipulated by
unboosted alchemy. Homunculi proved the mind and soul were separate things, and
I was increasingly confident a mind with no soul could animate a non organic
body. The moment was here. I'd double and triple checked my arrays.
On the table, a lump of rock sat in the middle of a detailed transmutation
circle drawn on a large sheet of parchment. I looked over my shoulder to make
sure no one was watching, then took a red stone from my pocket and held it
above the array. Both the array and the stone glowed blue as the lump of rock
took the form of a miniature human being dressed in a carved facimile of an
Amestris military uniform, holding a stone rifle with affixed bayonet. A
transmutation circle was engraved on its back to serve as the anchoring point
for the artificial mind.
When the light of the transmutation faded, the stone soldier turned and looked
at me, red pinpoints of light shining in its eye sockets. Demonstrating the
articulation of its joints, the figure slung its rifle and snapped into a
military salute.
"King's pawn, reporting for duty, sir," it declared.
I addressed the chessman and put it through a series of mental tests I'd used
on the wizard made versions. I was able to verify that it knew everything it
needed to know about chess, that it was able to retain chess related knowledge,
and it didn't learn or grow in any other area. I'd succeeded.
Now secure that I'd gotten it right, I updated the arrays on my wand and shoes,
then used the wand to produce a full set of alchemy powered chessmen. Tanks
served in the capacity of rooks. The bishops wore the dress uniforms and were
armed with pocket watches bearing the Amestris crest on carefully carved
chains. Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye were recognizable as the king and queen.
The knights were a pair of military chimeras.
With a full set of chessmen, I set up a game between my new set and the wizard
set I'd gotten at Christmas. The alchemic reinforcement and purification of the
base materials I'd done meant my chessmen stood up well to the violent nature
of the game, not suffering meaningful damage when defeated. Meanwhile, their
attacks were more than enough to take opposing pieces. While the guns were
nonfunctional, the pieces bludgeoned their opposition with them all the same.
                                     * * *
The Easter holidays were a chance to step up Ron's alchemy training. Sloth had
gotten him through the basics, and I'd taken over the lessons. He was doing
well on reconfiguring matter, but was getting anxious to try elemental
transmutation. I had to persuade him to hold off on that until he'd at least
gotten a handle on working iwth the chemical bonds in his base material. I saw
a lot of my own eagerness in his push to master the skill, but it had to be
tempered by the fact that he had other classes.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sloth, and I were studying in the library after the
holiday. Sloth and I were comparing methods for duplicating charms when Ron
greeted Hagrid.
"Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?" asked Ron.
I looked up and saw the enormous groundskeeper. "That was rude," I noted. "Why
wouldn't he want to come by the library?"
"Just looking," said Hagrid with a guilty look on his face as though Ron
actually had caught him doing something wrong. As if to throw us off guard and
reverse the situation, he asked, "And what're you lot up to? You're not still
looking for Nicholas Flamel, are you?"
"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron proudly. "And we know what that
dog's guarding. It's the Philosopher's-ouch!"
Sloth had jammed her wand hard into his side as Hagid said, "Shh! Don't go
shouting about it. What's the matter with you?"
"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact, about what's
guarding the Stones apart from Fluffy," said Harry.
"Shh!" repeated Hagrid. "Listen, come and see me later. I'm not promising I'll
tell you anything mind, but don't go rabbiting about it in here. Students
aren't supposed to know. They'll think I told you."
"See you later, then," said Harry with a smug look on his face. Hagrid left.
"I thought we explained that anything you find out, Snape can learn from you,"
I said, exasperated.
"Snape has a head start on us," noted Harry. "We're not trying to find out
anything Snape wouldn't already know."
"You already let slip there's more than one Stone just now," I said. "Hagrid
might not have already know that part."
Harry had the decency to look sheepish. "We'll have to talk over what's safe to
ask about before we visit HAgrid," he said after a moment.
"What was he holding behind his back?" asked Hermione, changing the subject.
"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" Harry emphasized the
singular,, reminding himself to be more careful.
In no hurry to resume studying, Ron volunteered, "I'm going to see what section
he was in."
Ron went off and returned with an armload of books. "Dragons," he urgently
whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these. Dragon
Species of Great Britain and Ireland. From Egg to Inferno, a Dragon Keeper's
Guide."
"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon," said Harry as I touched the red stone at the
tip of my wand to the pile of books Ron had brought then brought it up to my
temple, assimilating their contents. "He told me the first time I ever met
him."
"But it's against our laws," exclaimed Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by
the Warlock's convention of 1709. Everyone knows that. It's hard to stop
muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden. Anyway,
you can't tame dragons. It's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got
off wild ones in Romania."
"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" asked Harry with some concern.
"Of course there are," declared Ron, heedless of Harry's tone. "Common Welsh
Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I
can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted
them to make them forget."
"Make them forget?" repeated Sloth, horrified. "You just erase their memories
to keep your secrets?"
Ron was taken aback by Sloth's extreme reaction and stammered, "It doesn't do
them any harm. The ministry has experts who make sure the memory charms are
done properly."
"Losing their memories is harm," I said with some ice in my tone.
Seeing Ron getting double teamed, Harry came to Ron's defense. "There's a
reason the Ministry does it that way. Right, Ron?"
"Of course," said Ron, Harry's support helping him regain his footing. "The
International Statute of Secrecy means they can't just let them go after
muggles see something magical. With a memory charm, the muggles are back to
living their lives, happy as you please. No one needs to threaten them to keep
quiet and they don't need to live with whatever happened."
"And they won't know they need to do something to protect themselves from
another dragon attack," I retorted.
"The Ministry makes sure there won't be another attack before they do the
memory charms," said Ron.
"Does anyone ask the muggles if they want to forget?" asked Sloth.
"We aren't going to settle this here," said Hermione, trying to play
peacemaker. "Let's just figure out what we're going to do about Hagrid."
                                     * * *
Hagrid's curtains were drawn when we arrived at his hut at the edge of the
forest. The groundskeeper verified it was us before opening his door and
letting us in. He offered us tea and sandwiches.
"So, you wanted to ask me something?" he said.
"Yes," said Harry. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the
Philosopher's Stone appart from Fluffy."
"Of course I can't," said Hagrid. "Number one, I don't know meself. Number two,
you know too much already, so I wouldn't tell you if I could. That Stone's here
for a good reason. It was almost stolen out of Gringotts. I suppose you've
worked that out and all. Beats me how you even know about Fluffy."
"Oh come on, Hagrid," pressed Hermione sweetly. "You might not want to tell us,
but you do know. You know everything that goes on round here. We only wondered
who had done the guarding, really. We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted
enough to help him, appart from you." She was sticking to the plan, limiting it
to things Snape would already know.
"I don't suppose it could hurt to tell you that," mused Hagrid, puffing up from
the praise. "Let's see, he borrowed Fluffy from me. Then some of the teachers
did enchantments. Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall,
Professor Quirrell. And Dumbledore did something himself of course. Hang on.
I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."
"Snape?" demanded Harry in surprise.
"Yeah," replied Hagrid. "You're not still on about that are you? Look, Snape
helped protect the Stone. He's not about to steal it."
Given the division of information Dumbledore employed when Sloth and I set up
our protections, it was likely no one person besides Dumbledore knew anything
more than the part of the defenses he set up. Snape had no doubt spent most of
the year getting clues about the protections out of the other professors.
"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?"
confirmed Harry. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, not even one of the teachers?"
"Not a soul knows except me and Dumbledore," said Hagrid, which put everyone's
mind at ease.
"Well, that's something," said Harry. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? It's
boiling."
"Can't, Harry. Sorry." Hagrid glanced at his roaring fireplace with a black
dragon egg being incubated in the center of the flames.
"Hagrid, what is that?" asked Harry.
"Ah, that's, er..." started Hagrid.
"Where did you get it?" asked Ron, going in for a closer look. "It must've cost
you a fortune."
"Won it. Last night. I was down in the village, having a few drinks and got
into a game of cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad to get rid of it,
to be honest."
"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched," asked Hermione.
"A dragon would be a nasty surprise for the Stone's thief," I noted.
"Especially if he thinks he knows everything he's up against."
"That's no good," said Hagrid. "He'll just be a baby. Anyway, I've been doing
some reading. Got this out of the library. Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and
Profit. It's a bit out of date, of course, but it's all in there. Keep the egg
in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see. And when it hatches,
feed it a bucket of brandy mixed with chicken blood every half our. And see
here, how to recognize different eggs. What I've got here is a Norwegian
Ridgeback. They're rare, them."
"Hagrid," declared Hermione, exasperated, "you live in a wooden house."
"I can fireproof the place," I offered.
"You'd do that for me?" asked Hagrid, touched.
"I want to see it hatched too," I said, looking at the egg in awe. "Alchemists
back home have tried to make chimeras that look like dragons, but even when
they get something that looks superficially right, the result isn't stable, and
they don't live too long. To see a full, living system..."
"It is against the law here, Greed," said Sloth gently.
"It's already broken," I agrued, gesturing at the egg. "There's no reason not
to see this trhough. Ron, what do you say we make this a teaching moment?"
"Teaching?" asked Hagrid.
"I studied alchemy back in the old country," I said. Lies were always harder to
keep track of than the truth. "I've been teaching Ron."
"So that's how you know about Flamel and the Stone," said Hagrid.
"Ron," I said, "combustion of wood involves the complex hydrocarbons reacting
with the oxygen in the air. Primary products of the chemical reaction are water
and carbon dioxide. How do we remodel the internal chemistry to make the wood
less flammable without changing the elemental composition?"
"Strengthen the bonds of the hydrocarbons, so it'll take more energy to get
them to break apart and react with the oxygen?" Ron guessed.
"That'd do it," I acknowledged. "Take your chalk out and do the job."
Ron got a piece of chalk I'd had him carrying around out of his pocket and he
slowly, painstakingly drew a transmutation circle on Hagrid's wall. I looked it
over when he was done and gave him a nod. Ron placed his hands on the circle
and it glowed with a brilliant golden light. A wave of gold light passed
through all of the hut's walls, floor, and ceiling.
I took a burning stick from the fireplace and tossed it on the floor to
demonstrate that Ron's alchemy had the desired effect.
"That was amazing, Ron," declared Hermione, who was still a little jealous he
was being taught and she wasn't. Sloth had soothed those feelings a bit by
giving Hermione the background readings in things like chemistry that Ron was
getting, just without the actual alchemy itself. This was the first time the
others had seen Ron show off what he could do.
                                     * * *
A few days later, Harry got an owl from Hagrid letting him know the egg was
hatching. Harry passed the letter on to Sloth and I at breakfast, and we agreed
to head down to Hagrid's after classes. I hoped we wouldn't miss anything being
in class, but it was less likely someone would notice something amiss if we
didn't miss classes, and that was safer for Hagrid.
Right after classes, we rushed down to Hagrid's, meeting up with Harry, Ron,
and Hermione on the way. Hagrid rushed us inside. The egg was on a table,
covered in deep cracks. At length, the baby dragon split open the egg and
flopped onto the table.
It was gorgeous. The creature had a whip-thin body and large, barbed wings. Its
entire body was jet black, except for its bright orange eyes. Shortly after
emerging, it sneezed, shooting a handful of sparks from its wide nostrils.
"Isn't he beautiful?" asked Hagrid, rhetorically. He moved to stroke its head
affectionately, and it snapped its fanged jaw at his fingers. "Bless him. He
knows his mommy."
"Hagrid, how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?" asked Hermione.
Before he could answer, he leapt to his feet and bolted to the window.
"What's the matter?" asked Sloth.
"Someone was looking through the gap in the curtains. It's a kid. He's running
back up to the school," said Hagrid.
Harry got to the door, while I headed for the window. Of all the people to have
seen the dragon. It was Draco Malfoy.
                                     * * *
On the plus side, Draco seemed to enjoy holding the fact that he could report
this over our heads far too much to give up that by just reporting Hagrid
immediately. He was practically giddy to have something over us after having
learned the hard way threats and violence got him nowhere.
We spent every moment we could spare with Hagrid, alternately helping care for
the newborn dragon that had tripped in size within a week, and trying to talk
Hagrid into getting rid of it before Malfoy tired of playing games and tried to
use what he knew to get Hagrid fired and us expelled.
"Just let him go. Set him free," argued Harry.
"I can't. He's too little. He'll die," replied Hagrid in a worried tone. "I've
decided to call him Norbert. He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert!
Where's mommy?"
Norbert didn't respond.
"Hagrid, give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house,"
declared Harry. "Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."
"I- I know I can't keep him forever," said Hagrid pathetically, "but I can't
just dump him. I can't."
Sloth, Hermione, and I were on lookout duty for this conversation. Last time,
Malfoy had just peeked in and saw. This time, he might bring a camera or
another student who'd back him up so he'd have more proof. As long as it was
just Malfoy's word, this situation could be resolved by getting rid of Norbert.
With more proof, he could make trouble even after Norbert was gone.
"Charlie!" said Harry, turning to Ron.
"You're losing it, too. I'm Ron, remember?"
"No, Charlie. Your brother Charlie, in Romania studying dragons. We could send
Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the
wild!"
"Brilliant!" declared Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?"
"I don't know," Hagrid hesitated.
"This is about what's best for Norbert," said Sloth from her position at the
window. "He's stuck in this hutt all the time. He deserves to be somewhere he
can spread his wings and fly."
That did the trick, and Hagrid said with tears in his eyes, "Go ahead and send
an owl to Charlie."
                                     * * *
It was a week before we heard back. Fortunately, Charlie was on board with
dragon smuggling. His letter indicated we were to get Norbert to the top of the
astronomy tower on Sunday. Harry figured we could fit two people and the dragon
under his invisibility cloak, and be done with this.
Ron, meanwhile, had been bitten on his hand while helping feed Norbert. I got
him someplace private and unwrapped the bandage to take a look.
"The Norwegian Ridgeback's bite is venomous," I told him, relating information
I'd assimilated from those books the day we'd found out about the dragon egg.
His hand had already swollen by the time he showed me.
"Is it safe to go to Madam Pomfrey?" he asked. "Will she recognize a dragon
bite?"
"No need for that," I replied and pointed my wand at his hand. The array along
the wand's length lit up and glowed blue, and Ron's hand shrank back down to
normal size. The puncture marks closed with a few sparks of blue alchemic
light. Inside his body, the venom itself was broken down into harmless
compounds.
"Useful, that," said Ron, opening and closing his hand.
"Bioalchemy is one of the most difficult branches of alchemy," I told him.
"We'll get to it eventually, but you're a long ways off from that."
When we went to tell Hagrid the plan, we found Fang outside with a bandaged
tail. I kneeled down to heal Fang while the others explained the plan to Hagrid
through a window, since Norbert had gotten too aggressive to be around us
safely.
                                     * * *
Sloth and I were the strongest members of the group, physically, so it was
agreed the two of us would help carry Norbert's crate. Sloth could occupy the
same space as someone else using her powers, so that left room for an
additional person. Since it was Harry's cloak, he was the obvious choice.
Sloth's powers let us walk straight through the entrance hall where Pevees the
poltergeist was playing tennis against a wall. I could feel Harry flinch as
Sloth caused the tennis ball to pass through us. He wasn't as used to trusting
in Sloth's abilities as I was.
Norbert was in his crate when we arrived at Hagrid's.
"He's gt lots of rats and brandy for the journey, and I've packed his teddy
bear in case he gets lonely. Bye bye, Norbert! Mommy will never forget you,"
sobbed Hagrid.
We draped the cloak over the crate and climbed under. Sloth and I were on the
same side of the crate, since Harry wasn't comfortable occupying the same space
as one of us. That made carrying the crate more awkward than it needed to be,
but we managed. In no time, we had set aside the cloak at the top of the
astronomy tower and were waiting nervously.
It was almost an hour before Charlie's friends arrived on broomsticks. They
seemed in good humor for illegal dragon smugglers and happily showed off the
harness they'd prepared for Norbert's crate. We all breathed a sigh of relief
when they'd flow out of sight. Now, Malfoy's threats to tell someone about the
dragon wouldn't mean anything if he followed through.
We were practically delirious with relief, and eager to get back to our dorms
and back to a dragon free routine. That's the only explanation I have for why
we forgot to get under the invisibility cloak before we left. And worse luck,
Filch was standing at the bottom of the stairs down from the tower.
"Well, well, well, we are in trouble," he declared gleefully.
                                     * * *
Author's comments:
Having a competent healer in the group changes a few things. In this chapter,
it means that with Ron not needing to be in the hospital wing, Draco never gets
his hands on the letter from Charlie. This means he was never caught out of
bed, and our heroes were the only ones getting into trouble as a result.
***** Enter the Dark Lord *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 10) Enter the Dark Lord
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


One by one, Filch woke each of our heads of house, dropping us off with a brief
explanation of where he'd found us.  He could have waited until morning, but
seemingly chose to wake them up so they'd be in a fouler mood when considering
the situation.  I don't know what Harry and Sloth were dealing with from
McGonagall and Sprout.  All I knew was that I was in Professor Flitwick's
office and he was looking at me with a profoundly hurt expression.  

"Headmaster Dumbledore made a lot of special exceptions so you could come to
Hogwarts, you know," opened Flitwick.  "I've never even heard of Amestris, but
I know the British Ministry doesn't have any sort of official exchange
program.  Dumbledore spoke to the Ministry on your behalf.  He let you in to
this year despite registration having been closed already.  He even let you
bring that extraordinary dog of yours."  

Not to mention he was arranging to protect my Philosopher's Stone while I was
in this world.  And he'd vouched for me and Sloth on our arrival.  All that
plus the occlumency lessons added up to quite a bit I owed the man.  I kept my
eyes downcast.  

"After all that, and I still find you out of bed at one in the morning,
flouting school rules.  Do you have anything to say for yourself?"  

"No, sir," I said dejectedly.  

Professor Flitwick sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "I like you,
Marcus.  You're a good student, and I know you work harder to get the marks you
do than you want to admit to anyone.  But I can't overlook this.  You need a
reminder that even with all your special exemptions, the rules still apply to
you.  You'll serve a detention, and you've just lost fifty points for
Ravenclaw.  Now, off to bed."  

"Yes, Professor," I said, getting up.  "I'm sorry."  

                                     * * *


Harry and Sloth had gotten it just as bad from McGonagall and Sprout.  On the
plus side, none of us had cracked and told them what we were up to.  The fact
that we'd protected Hagrid was my sole comfort as the other Ravenclaws went
back to ostracizing and bullying me.  At one point, they got into my trunk
while I was out of the dorm and hid my things across half the castle.  I ended
up locking it with alchemy from then on.  

Sloth was more popular in Hufflepuff then I was in Ravenclaw, but that just
meant she had more to lose.  She got her homework done quicker after that, but
only because her friends in her house weren't talking to her anymore.  

Harry got the worst of it.  Until our midnight outing, it had looked like
Gryffindor would break Slytherin's six year winning streak for the House Cup. 
The only students who were happy with Harry were the Slytherins.  

We all just buckled down and studied, hoping to finish off the term.  In time,
the hard feelings would fade.  I personally just hoped I'd get a chance to earn
back Professor Flitwick's trust.  

With exams a week away, Ron, Hermione, Sloth, and I were in the library
studying.  Harry came in and urgently reported a half overheard conversation
involving Quirrell.  

"Snape's done it, then," concluded Ron.  "If Quirrell's told him how to break
his anti dark force spell-"  

"There's still Fluffy," interrupted Hermione.  

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid.  I bet
there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant, three
headed dog," argued Ron.  "So, what do we do, Harry?"  

"Go to Dumbledore," interjected Hermione.  "That's what we should have done
ages ago.  If we try anything ourselves, we'll be thrown out for sure."  

"We don't have a way to talk to Dumbledore without tipping off Snape," I
argued.  

"And the other teachers won't believe a word against him without proof," added
Sloth.  "Remember how Hagrid acted after the broomstick incident?  He was the
one who said that jinx was powerful dark magic and he still brushed off it
being Snape."  

"Quirrell's too scared to back us up," said Harry.  "Snape's only got to say he
doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the
third floor.  Who do you think they'll believe, him or us?  Even if we could
tell Dumbledore he'll think we made it up to get him sacked.  Filch wouldn't
help us if his life depended on it.  He's too friendly with Snape, and the more
students get thrown out the better, he'll think."  

"If we just do a bit of poking around," started Ron.  

"No, we've done enough poking around," said Harry, who pointedly picked up a
map of Jupiter to study.  

                                     * * *


Ironically, our detention for being out of bed at night was to take place at
level o'clock at night.  We were all to meet Filch at the castle's entrance
hall.  He was waiting for us with a lantern and a nasty grin.  

"Follow me," he said, leading us out into the darkness.  "I bet you'll think
twice about breaking a school rule again, eh?  Oh yes, hard work and pain are
the best teachers if you ask me.  It's just a pity they let the old punishments
die out.  Hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days.  I've got
the chains still in my office.  Keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever
needed.  Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now.  It'll be worse
for you if you do."  

We trudged along in silence.  Filch was enjoying this too much, and none of us
were going to give him the satisfaction of rising to his bait.  It turned out,
we were going to Hagrid's hut, and my pulse skyrocketed.  My mind raced through
worst case scenarios.  Had Hagrid been found out, and Filch was taking us to
see him get sacked?  I wouldn't put it past the sadist.  

I breathed a sigh of relief when Hagrid called out, "Is that you, Filch?  Hurry
up.  I want to get started."  

Filch rounded on us, sneering, "I suppose you think that you'll be enjoying
yourself with that oaf?  Well, think again, boy.  It's into the forest you're
going, and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."  

Being immortal made it easy to brush off his attempts to frighten us.  Hagrid
arrived a moment later with Fang.  Hagrid had his crossbow at the ready.  

"About time," he said.  "I been waiting for half an hour already.  All right,
Harry, Sloth, Greed?"  

"I shouldn't be too friendly with them, Hagrid," said Filch.  "They're here to
be punished, after all."  

"That why you're late, is it?  Been lecturing them?  It's not your place to do
that.  You've done your bit.  I'll take over from here."  

Filch replied, "I'll be back at dawn, for what's left of them."  Then he headed
back to the castle.  

"What do we do?" I asked, eyeing Hagrid's readied weapon.  

"Right, then.  Now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do
tonight, and I don't want no one taking risks.  Follow me over here a moment."
 

He led us to a narrow trail that led deeper into the forest and continued,
"Look there.  See that stuff shining on the ground?  Silvery stuff?  That's
unicorn blood.  There's a unicorn in there been hurt badly by something.  This
is the second time in a week.  I found one dead last Wednesday.  We're gonna
try and find the poor thing.  We might have to put it out of its misery."  

Turning to Sloth, I said, "Ultimate Shield.  You don't want to risk what
happened with the troll against whatever's out there."  I pulled up my sleeve
to reveal to her the grey discoloration that turned our flesh as hard as
diamond.  I'd drawn the Ultimate Shield over every part of my body covered by
my robes.  Sloth nodded her intent to do the same.  

"There's nothing that lives in the forest that'll hurt you if you're with me or
Fang," Hagrid assured us.  "And keep to the path.  Right, now, we're gonna
split into two parties and follow the trail in different directions.  There's
blood all over the place.  It must've been staggering around since last night
at least."  

"You go with Harry and keep him safe," I told Sloth.  "I'll go with Fang."  

"All right, but I warn you, he's a coward," reminded Hagrid.  "Now, if any of
us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right?  Get your wands out
and practice now."  

I went through a few reactions before I found one that let off quite the same
color and brightness as the sparks from Harry's wand.  At length, Hagrid was
satisfied.  

"That's it.  And if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks and we'll all
come and find you.  So, be careful.  Let's go."  

I broke from the others at the first fork in the path.  We followed the trail
of silvery blood, pausing occasionally to scan the skyline for any sign of
sparks form the other party.  Fang was a competent tracker, but I wished I had
Loki with me in the forest.  The blood trail was getting thicker, but I
couldn't tell if that meant we were getting closer to where the attack
happened, or where the unicorn had gone.  

Half an hour later, I got my answer.  The creature's corpse was lying in a
clearing.  I'd reached for my wand to send up the sparks when a cloaked figure
crawled out of the shadows and into the clearing.  Something about the way it
moved was wrong, like the joints going the wrong way.  I froze and watched as
the figure leaned over the dead unicorn.  I could hear it sucking blood from
the wound in its side.  

Fang let out a howl of terror and bolted.  The creature looked up at me in
alarm.  Red eyes were set above a mouth that dribbled silvery unicorn blood
down its front.  I was even more surprised and unnerved when the eye contact
with this thing was accompanied by an attempt to penetrate my mind. 
Dumbledore's occlumency training saved me from that as the thing raised itself
upright and moved to charge at me.  

I was alone with a monster.  No point pulling punches for the sake of
appearances.  I stomped my left foot, and a spike of stone rose out of the
ground in front of me, accompanied by blue sparks of alchemic energy.  The
creature was impaled through the chest.  It wasn't dead.  Rather, it pulled
itself off my transmuted spoke and repeated its rush.  

My wand was in my hand, and I activated the array.  A three foot beam of blue
alchemic light extended from just past the red stone at the wand's tip.  The
reaction of the blade would deconstruct whatever it came in contact with.  The
red stone would compensate for any gaps in my understanding of this creature's
composition.  

I didn't get a chance to use the weapon.  A centaur galloped onto the scene,
leaped over me, and barreled into the creature.  Outnumbered, it beat a
retreat, and I lost track of it in the shadows.  

"Are you alright?" asked the blond haired, gold bodied centaur.  

"Yes," I said, deactivating my alchemic blade.  "Thanks."  

"You had better get back to Hagrid," he added after a long moment.  "The forest
is not safe at this time.  Especially for the Potter boy."  

"Harry?  What does he have to do with this?"  

Suddenly, another pair of centaurs burst into the clearing.  One black haired,
the other red.  

"Firenze!" yelled the black haired one at the centaur that'd come to my aid. 
"What are you doing?"  

"He came with the Potter boy," said Firenze.  "The quicker they leave the
forest the better."  

"What have you been telling him?" demanded the black haired centaur. 
"Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. 
Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"  

"I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," said the red haired
centaur, trying to placate his companion.  

"For the best?!" repeated the black haired one.  "What is that to do with us? 
Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold!  It is not our business to
rush around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"  

"Do you not see that unicorn?" yelled Firenze as he reared up on his hind
legs.  "Do you not understand why it was killed?  Or have the planets not let
you in on that secret?  I set myself against what is lurking in this forest,
Bane.  Yes, with humans alongside me if I must."  

Firenze turned, took me by the hand, hauled me onto his back and galloped away
from the other two all in a single, elegant motion.  

"Thank you again," I said when we were alone.  "My name is Greed, by the way. 
You seem to know what's going on out here.  Can you tell me?"  

"Mind your head," was all he said, and I ducked beneath a low branch.  We
traveled a ways in silence before he asked, "Greed, do you know what unicorn
blood is used for?"  

"No," I admitted.  "It wasn't in any of our first year books."  

"That is because it is a monstrous thing to slay a unicorn.  Only one who has
nothing to lose and everything to gain would commit such a crime.  The blood of
a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a
terrible price.  You have slain something pure and defenseless to save
yourself, and you will have but a half life, a cursed life, from the moment the
blood touches your lips."  

"That's why it didn't die when I impaled it on that spike," I realized.  "What
sort of curse are we talking about here?"  

"Death is preferable," said Firenze simply.  "Unless all you need is to stay
alive long enough to drink something else, something that will bring you back
to full power, something that will mean you can never die.  Greed, do you know
what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"  

"I do," I said guardedly.  "You mean that thing is after it?"  

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has
clung to life, awaiting their chance?" prompted Firenze.  

It was dangerous to Harry in particular.  Something from years in the past. 
The dark wizard who'd given Harry his famous scar.  Voldemort was after the
Philosopher's Stone, and planned to use it to get a new body that can never
die.  For all this world was alchemically backward, homunculi had been created
in the past.  

"This is bad," I said.  

"Greed!" called out Sloth on sighting me.  

I waved and dismounted the centaur.  "I found the unicorn," I said, jamming my
thumb behind me.  "It's already dead."  

Hagrid went to check on the unicorn while Firenze looked long and hard at
Harry.  

"Good luck, Harry Potter.  The planets have been read wrongly before now, even
by centaurs.  I hope this is one of those times."  Then he turned and left.  

"What was that all about?" asked Harry.  

"We've got bigger problems than Snape," I said in a low voice.  "When you get
back to the Gryffindor dorms, tell Ron and Hermione we ned to meet.  Meanwhile,
stay close.  Something in the forest doesn't like you at all."  

                                     * * *


My night was restless.  I kept replaying the brief fight in my mind.  It wasn't
the first time I'd fought something that refused to die, but I'd gotten used to
knowing what I was up against.  While I was pretty sure the unicorn blood was
what saved it, the truth was I knew nothing of the enemy's powers or
capabilities.  

As early as I thought I could get away with, I took Loki and headed for the
entrance to Gryffindor tower.  Sloth arrived soon after.  I resisted the
temptation to start explaining while we waited for the others.  It wasn't long
before a portrait of a heavyset woman swung aside and the three Gryffindors
emerged.  

"What happened out there?" asked Ron immediately.  

"Not here," I said, and led them into an empty classroom.  After verifying it
was free of portraits, ghosts, and poltergeists, I clapped my hands and removed
the door, blending the former entrance into just another stone wall.  

"Does what happened last night have anything to do with this?" asked Harry,
holding up his invisibility cloak.  "It showed up in my bed with a note that
said, 'Just in case.'"  

"Harry, what do you know about Voldemort?" I asked.  

Ron winced and hissed, "Stop saying the name!"  

"Because he's what I saw in the forest," I said.  

There was silence as they took that information in.  

"How do you know it was him?" asked Hermione.  

"Firenze the centaur told me," I replied.  "Voldemort's weak, surviving on
unicorn blood, but if he gets his hands on the Philosopher's Stone, he'll use
it to not just come back, but to make himself immortal."  

"Stop saying the name," Ron repeated with more urgency.  

"Why?" I snapped.  

"The last war," said Ron.  "Folks who called him by his name instead of 'You-
Know-Who', even in private, even when no one could hear, ended up targeted."  

"I'm already targeted," noted Harry, touching the lightning bolt scar on his
forehead.  "Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort.  And Voldemort's waiting in
the forest.  And all this time, we thought Snape just wanted to get rich."  

"Did the centaurs tell you anything else?" asked Sloth.  

"Not all the centaurs," I said, shaking my head, "just Firenze.  I think Bane
was mad at him for telling me as much as he did.  Apparently they have a rule
about interfering with predestined events."  

"So, all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," said Harry,
increasingly agitated.  "Then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me
off.  Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."  

Hermione said, "Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was
ever afraid of.  With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you.  Anyway,
who says the centaurs are right?  It sounds like fortune telling to me, and
Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."  

"They know about the Stone," I argued.  "Either way, we ned to be ready in case
the worst should happen.  I think I know what he plans to do with the Stone."  

"He's going to make a homunculus body," guessed Sloth.  

I nodded and explained, "Homunculi are nearly impossible to kill.  I'm sort of
an expert, and I only know two ways to kill one permanently.  That's why I
turned myself into one.  We don't age, and our bodies regenerate from injuries
in proportion to the alchemic amplifiers we consume.  I've seen a homunculus
eat a Philosopher's Stone, then regenerate his neck so fast, a decapitation
strike was healed before the blade was all the way through."  

"But you do know how to kill him if it comes to that," prompted Ron nervously.
 

"One way involves luring him into a specially prepared transmutation circle," I
said.  "Which isn't easy to do to someone who doesn't even have any other
powers."  

"And the other?" asked Ron.  

"Requires we find his original human remains.  If we lose that Stone, we need
to find that corpse."  

                                     * * *


Fortunately, Fluffy remained an impossible obstacle.  We doubled our checks on
the third floor corridor, and he was always there, standing watch.  Exams were
more of a time sink for Snape than for us.  We were able to break into teams
and keep watch on the corridor while we quizzed one another on our subjects. 
Snape had seven years of students to prepare and administer an exam for.  Even
as unpopular as we were of late, we'd hear if Snape went missing during exams. 
Meanwhile, we traded off nights keeping watch on the corridor under Harry's
invisibility cloak.  

The exams themselves proved easier than I was expecting.  I forgot I was in a
class full of eleven year olds, and had prepared for something on par with the
state alchemy exam.  The written portion, I finished in under half the allotted
time, and had plenty of time to check my answers.  

The practical portion, I again expected something far worse than we were
subjected to.  Though, given that the practical portion of my last exam had
involved dodging bombs and weathering a gas main explosion, I really shouldn't
have been using that as a standard.  Professor Flitwick had us make a pineapple
tap dance, and the question for me wasn't if I could do it, but which of the
half dozen methods I'd worked out over the year I should use.  

Transfiguration was even easier.  Turning a mouse into a snuffbox was still a
huge violation of equivalency, but organic matter to inorganic was still easier
than the other way around.  Since we got style points, I included a decorative
engraving of Loki leaping through flames.  

Brewing the forgetfulness potion was the hardest of the practicals, since we
were doing it from memory in a room full of people brewing forgetfulness
potions.  On the plus side, Snape looked very engaged in judging the results,
which I hoped meant he'd stay distracted from the Stone through exams.  

Once the last of our exams were in, I joined the others down by the lake.  

"You want to go over our exam papers and see how we did, don't you, Greed?"
asked Hermione as I approached.  

"There's no point," I said.  "It's out of our hands now."  

"I'm going to see if I can make some ice.  It's too hot out here," said Ron,
who began drawing a transmutation circle in the dirt near the water.  

"I wish I knew what this means," burst Harry as he rubbed at the scar on his
forehead.  "My scar keeps hurting.  It's happened before, but never as often as
this."  

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," said Hermione.  

"I'm not ill.  I think it's a warning.  It means danger's coming."  

"We know Voldemort's nearby," I said, eliciting a flinch from Ron that forced
him to restart his transmutation circle.  "He's the one that gave you that
scar, right?"  

Harry nodded.  

"Harry, relax," said Ron.  "We've been watching the corridor at night, Snape's
swamped with exams during the day, and Hermione's right.  The Stones are safe
as long as Dumbledore's around.  Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found
out how to get past Fluffy.  He nearly had his leg ripped off once.  He's not
going to try again in a hurry.  And Neville will play Quidditch for England
before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."  

"I just can't shake this feeling I've forgotten something important," said
Harry.  

"It's been a stressful year," said Sloth.  "Between everything we've been
trying to do this year, we never did get a chance to learn how to swim."  

"It's definitely warm enough," I said.  "Who's up for it?" I asked.  

Suddenly, Harry jumped to his feet.  

"Getting some trunks?" I asked as I pulled my robe over my head.  

"I've just thought of something," said Harry urgently.  "We've got to go and
see Hagrid.  Now."  

With only one longing glance back toward the lake, we were off after Harry.  

"Why?" asked Hermione as we rushed off.  

As he ran, Harry explained, "Don't you think it's a bit odd that what Hagrid
wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just
happens to have a dragon egg in his pocket?  How many people wander around with
dragon eggs if it's against wizard law?  Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you
think?  Why didn't I see it before?"

"You're right," I gasped.  The dragon wasn't a coincidence.  It was part of the
plot all along.  

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron.  

Walking him through it would take longer than confirming it would, so we just
pressed on to Hagrid's.  We found him outside, and he greeted us on our
approach.  

"Hello.  Finished your exams?  Got time for a drink?"  

Ron started to accept, but Harry cut him off.  "No, we're in a hurry.  Hagrid,
I've got to ask you something.  You know that night you won Norbert?  What did
the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"  

"Dunno," replied Hagrid.  "He wouldn't take his cloak off.  It's not that
unusual.  You get a lot of funny folk in the Hog's Head.  That's the pub down
in the village.  Mighta been a dragon dealer, mightn't he?  I never saw his
face.  He kept his hood up."  

By that point, Ron had put it together and looked as worried as the rest of
us.  Harry pushed for further confirmation.  

"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid?  Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"  

"Mighta come up.  Yeah, he asked what I did and I told him I was gamekeeper
here.  He asked a bit about the sort of creatures I look after, so I told him,
and I said what I really wanted was a dragon.  And then...  I can't remember
too well 'cause he kept buying me drinks.  Let's see, yeah, then he said he had
the dragon egg and we could play cards for it if I wanted, but he had to be
sure I could handle it.  He didn't want it to go to any old home, so I told him
after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy."  

Again, Harry pressed for confirmation.  "And did he...  Did he seem interested
in Fluffy?"  

"Well, yeah.  How many three headed dogs do you meet, even around Hogwarts?  So
I told him, Fluffy's a piece of cake if you know how to calm him down.  Just
play him a bit of music and he'll go straight off to sleep."  

At this point, even Hagrid seemed to realize what had happened.  The rest of us
were sprinting back to the castle.  

"I shouldn'ta told you that," Hagrid called after us.  "Forget I said it! 
Where're you going?"  

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Harry as we arrived in the main entry
hall.  "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either
Snape or Voldemort under that cloak.  It must've been easy once he got Hagrid
drunk.  I just hope Dumbledore believes us.  Firenze might back us up if Bane
doesn't stop him.  Where's Dumbledore's office?"  

"This way," said Sloth, starting off.  

"What are you five doing inside?" asked Professor McGonagall.  

"We need to see the Headmaster, immediately," I said.  "The Philosopher's Stone
is in danger."  

She dropped the books she was carrying in shock, but recovered her composure
quickly.  "Professor Dumbledore received an urgent owl from the Ministry of
Magic.  He left ten minutes ago, and will be back tomorrow.  I don't know how
you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it. 
It's too well protected."  

"But, Professor-" began Harry before being cut off.  

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about.  I suggest you all go back outside and
enjoy the sunshine."  She gathered up her books and left.  

"It's tonight," declared Harry when McGonagall was out of earshot.  "Snape's
going through the trapdoor tonight.  He's found out everything he needs and now
he's got Dumbledore out of the way.  He sent that note.  I bet the Ministry of
Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore shows up."  

"Okay, so-" I fell silent at Hermione's gasp.  Turning, I saw Snape had come up
when we weren't looking.  How long had he been there?  

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said with a self satisfied
smile.  

"We were-" Harry started to say when Snape interrupted him.  

"You want to be careful.  Hanging around like this, people will think you're up
to something.  And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can
it?  Be warned, Potter.  Any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally
make sure you are expelled.  Good day to you."  

As Snape left, Harry whispered, "Right, here's what we're going to do.  One of
us has to keep an eye on Snape.  Wait outside the staff room and follow him if
he leaves it.  Greed, you'd better do that."  

"Okay," I agreed.  

"You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick," suggested Ron.  

"The rest of us should guard the corridor," said Sloth.  

"Take Loki," I suggested.  "He'll be more use on guard duty than tailing
Snape."  

                                     * * *


Outside the staff room, I leaned against a wall and worked through some
equations in my notebook.  I was convinced some of the transfiguration formulas
we'd studied could be adapted to model the energy usage for red stones and give
me a better idea when they'd burn out.  I glanced up occasionally to make sure
no one had left the staff room.  

Half an hour later, Snape emerged.  "What are you doing here, Oren?"  

"Just waiting for Professor Flitwick."  I felt the legilimency attempt, and
projected a false impression of attempting to blank my mind so Snape wouldn't
know how badly I wanted to apologize to Flitwick for what happened at the
astronomy tower.  To complete the illusion that he'd penetrated my mental
defenses, I included the hope that no one would find out about the dragon.  

Snape didn't get any deeper than I intended him to, and that led to a smug
smile spreading across his face.  "Why don't I go get him for you?"  

He popped back into the staff room and emerged with Professor Flitwick.  

"Marcus, is there something you need?" he asked.  

I glanced over at Snape, who was watching the exchange with amused interest.  I
had to play this out.  

"I wanted to say," I began, "I'm sorry for disappointing you.  Is there
anything I can do to earn your forgiveness, Professor?"  

Flitwick was taken aback and replied, "My boy, you did your detention, and
you've kept your nose out of trouble since.  That's all I could ask for."  

With a disgusted look on his face, Snape left, having found the exchange less
entertaining than he'd hoped.  Unfortunately, Flitwick was still talking and I
couldn't break off to follow Snape.  

"In fact, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but your charms exam is tied for
the top of the class with Miss Granger.  All those late nights studying paid
off.  You've been a delight to have in my class and in my house, and I look
forward to having you in my charms class again next year."  

There was no hope of catching up with Snape after that.  I had to rely on the
others to guard the hall.  Meanwhile, I decided to try another angle.  

"Do you know a way to get in touch with Professor Dumbledore?  Professor
McGonagall said he left for the Ministry of Magic a bit ago.  He's been holding
on to something of mine for me, and I need to have it back."  

"He's rarely gone long in his trips to the Ministry," assured Flitwick, "but if
it's urgent, why don't you send him an owl?"  

"Is there anything faster?" I asked.  "I know muggle radios won't work here,
but-"  

"It'll be fine," said Flitwick in a comforting tone.  "I'm sure, whatever it
is, you'll have it back before the end of term feast."  

                                     * * *


"Something is very wrong with the communications infrastructure of the
wizarding world," I muttered to myself as I wrote out a note to Dumbledore
warning hm that Voldemort knew how to bypass the Stone's defenses, and that he
should return to Hogwarts immediately.  Once the owl was off, I left the owlery
to meet up with the others at the corridor.  

The corridor was unguarded.  Questioning the nearby portraits revealed that
McGonagall had found them, lost her temper, and run them off.  I checked to
make sure Fluffy was still awake before going to find the others.  I tracked
them down and explained how I'd lost Snape.  

"Well, that's it, then," said Harry when I finished.  "I'm going out tonight,
and I'm going to try and get to the Stones first."  

"You're mad," said Ron.  

"You can't," said Hermione.  "Snape had all year to figure out what's down
there and prepare.  All we know how to get past is Fluffy."  

"We have to try!" exclaimed Harry.  "If Snape gets hold of one of those Stones,
Voldemort's coming back!  He'll flatten Hogwarts or turn it into a school for
the Dark Arts!  I'm going through that trap door tonight, and nothing any of
you say is going to stop me!  Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"  

"We're with you," I said, putting an arm around Sloth and a hand on Loki's
head.  "I don't even see how we could get in trouble for it.  You're just
helping me take back my own property."  

"We'll use the invisibility cloak," said Harry, determined.  "It's just lucky I
got it back."  

"But will it cover all six of us?" asked Ron.  

"It will if you stop being so squeamish and let me stack us all up in the space
for one person," said Sloth.  

"All of you?" asked Harry.  

"Oh, come off it," said Ron.  "You don't think we'd let you go alone?"  

"Of course not," added Hermione.  "How do you think you'd get the Stone without
us?  I'd better go and look through my books.  There might be something
useful."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
I've never found Voldemort to be a particularly threatening villain.  Here,
I've tried to emphasize the unknown quality of the threat they're facing by
using the unicorn blood. 
***** Retrieving the Stones *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 11) Retrieving the Stones
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *
The other Ravenclaws were used to my late night studying by now, so no one
questioned the fact that I was reading in the common room with Loki at my feet
when the last of them went to bed. Once I was alone, I stepped out the door
with Loki, the arrays on my shoes muffling our footsteps to the point of
inaudibility.
"Neville caught us sneaking out," whispered Harry from beneath the invisibility
cloak. "Hermione paralyzed him and left him in the common room. I don't know
how long we have until someone finds him."
I nodded, then scurried under the cloak with Loki. Traveling under an
invisibility cloak with five people and a dog was a strange experience. Sloth
ensured that we all passed through each other, but we were all touching the
same cloak, so it felt like it was constantly catching and billowing on
something. We bypassed Peeves thanks to the combination of Harry's cloak and my
shoes making us virtually undetectable.
When we reached the door to the third floor corridor, it was open already.
"Well, there you are. Snape's already got past Fluffy," said Harry. "If you
want to go back, I won't blame you. You can take the cloak. I won't need it
now."
"Don't be stupid," said Ron.
"We're coming," affirmed Hermione.
"Let me check something," I said. Stepping out from beneath the cloak, I
clapped my hands and touched the wall. Blue sparks shot out from the point of
contact, but otherwise nothing happened. "The security I set up is still in
place. There's no going through the walls and around the obstacles. Snape'll
have to go straight through the protections with no short cuts."
"Can't we just wait here and stop him when he tries to leave?" asked Sloth. "I
doubt he'll be able to disable your protection even with the Stone."
"If Voldemort's in there with him?" asked Harry. "Once he's got the Stone, he
might be able to get his new body then and there. We have to catch up before he
gets it."
Harry opened the door and a massive doglike creature with three heads and twice
the size of Loki when he transformed growled at us. I ducked behind the door.
The others were still concealed under Harry's cloak, but that didn't stop
Fluffy from smelling them.
Well, Hagrid had told us what to do. I stepped fully into view, spread my arms
wide, and began to sing. The tune was one from a lifetime ago, one I'd learned
as a hymn to praise the sun god Leto. Long before I learned our prophet was a
fraud. The words, I based on the story of the Elric brothers' journey. Fluffy
was fast asleep before I finished the first verse.
"Keep singing," said Harry. "It must wake up as soon as the music stops."
They filed into the room proper, getting out from under the cloak while I kept
the sad melody about the Elrics' ill fated attempt to bring back their mother,
and what it had cost them. I was singing in my native tongue, so I doubt the
others got more out of it than the fact that Fluffy wasn't killing them. They
approached the trap door.
"I should go first," said Sloth, pulling open the door. "There's a long drop,
and I can catch you." She then hopped down. After a full verse of my song, she
called back. "It's okay to come down. There's a soft landing so you can all
come at once."
I finished my last verse and jumped down with the others, landing on what felt
like some sort of plant.
"What's this stuff?" asked Ron.
"Dunno," said Harry. "Some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break
the fall."
"We must be miles under the school," guessed Hermione.
"Devil's snare!" I exclaimed when I saw the plant's tendrils wrapping around
our legs. "It isn't here to save us, it's here to kill us!"
I started breaking tendrils off in an attempt to extricate us when Sloth
sighed, took us by the hand, and walked us out from the plant with no fuss.
"I've been studying the structure and composition of magic plants and animals
ever since that troll surprised me," she said.
"Lucky thing," said Harry. "This way."
"Can you hear something?" asked Ron in a whisper as we went. Pausing to listen,
I heard it, light clinking sounds interspersed amid a bustle of tiny wings.
"Whatever it is, we'll find out soon enough," I said, pressing onward, but
getting my wand at the ready. The others followed suit.
The next chamber was brightly lit. Hundreds of winged keys fluttered in the
air. The heavy door on the far side of the room would prevent Sloth from just
phasing us through with her powers thanks to my part of the security, so just
holding hands and making a run for it was out.
"Do you think they'll attach us if we cross the room?" asked Ron.
"Probably. They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down
at once..." mused Harry. "Well, there's no other choice. I'll run."
"Wait," I said. Then I clapped my hands and held my palms over my head. Using
alchemy, I held air molecules in place, forming a solid, tunnel shaped barrier
to the door.
When we reached the door and none of the keys even tried to attack, I released
the continuous transmutation, and our protective barrier vanished. Still, the
keys didn't attack. The others tried opening the door, Hermione even trying to
charm it open with magic. Nothing worked.
"Now what?" asked Ron.
"Best guess is we need the right key," I said, gesturing up dejectedly. Trying
them all would take forever, even assuming Snape hadn't taken the right key
with him.
"Look," said Harry. "Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door."
There were indeed a pile of broomsticks in the corner, presumably for this very
purpose.
"But there are hundreds of them," complained Hermione.
"We're looking for a big, old fashioned one, probably silver like the handle,"
said Ron after a moment examining the door.
Harry led the other two wizard children after the key while Sloth and I stayed
on the ground with Loki. Our flying had improved significantly over the year,
but neither of us would do more than get in the way. Catching small,
erratically flying, hard to spot objects amid distractions was Harry's job on
the Quidditch team, and in no time, he caught the key and opened the door with
it.
The next chamber was guarded by a set of chess men carved at full human size.
The floor was decorated with squares. Unlike the wizard chess sets I'd seen
before, I doubted these could talk, because instead of faces,, they just had
smooth, blank stone.
"Now what do we do?" asked Harry.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" replied Ron. "We've got to play our way across the
room."
"How?" asked Hermione.
"I think we're going to have to be the chessmen?" said Ron. He approached a
black knight on our side of the board and asked, "Do we, er, have to join you
to get across?"
It nodded in reply.
"This needs thinking about," mused Ron. "I suppose we've got to take the place
of five of the black chess pieces. Now, don't be offended, but none of you are
that good at chess."
"We're not offended," said Harry. "Just tell us what to do."
"Right," I agreed. "You're the king."
The black king turned towards us and shook its head before returning to its
position.
"I suppose it wouldn't be much of an obstacle if you could choose the one piece
that never gets taken," noted Harry.
Ron had made up his mind. "Harry, Greed, I want you two as the bishops. Sloth,
Hermione, you two are the castles."
"What about you?" asked Harry.
"I'm going to be a knight," he said.
The five pieces stepped off the board and we took our places, Loki sharing my
square. Ron began directing our forces. The first capture was our other knight
by the white queen, who delivered a brutal beating before dragging the knight
aside.
Seeing how shaken Ron was, I called over to him. "Keep the others safe, but if
it makes sense in the game, don't hesitate to sacrifice me or Sloth. Remember,
we're not human."
Ron struggled mightily to keep Harry and Hermione safe as he looked for ways to
mate the white king. He did hesitate when it came down to a sacrifice of me or
Hermione, but with a grim look, he sent me to be taken. I kept Loki calm.
Fighting back might invalidate the game. The white rook headbutted me hard
enough to knock out a human in one hit, then kept hitting me until I went limp
with blood streaming from my nose. I set upright and gave Ron a thumbs up after
I was dragged to the sidelines.
"We're nearly there," said Ron to himself. "Let me think. Let me think. Yes.
It's the only way. I've got to be taken."
"No!" shouted all four of us at once.
"That's chess!" retorted Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices. I take one
step forward and she'll take me. That leaves you free to checkmate the king,
Harry."
"There has to be another way," said Sloth.
"Do you want to stop Snape or not?" asked Ron. "Look, if you don't hurry up,
he'll already have the Stone."
None of us could argue the point. He made his move and the white queen hit him
hard, and he was out instantly. When she tossed Ron by me, I looked over his
injuries and called out, "He's going to be okay." I pointed my wand at his head
wound and mended his injury. Ron regained consciousness in time to see the king
toss his crown at Harry's feet.
"What do you reckon's next?" asked Harry as we moved on.
"We've had Sprout's," said Hermione. "That was the devil's snare. Flitwick
must've put charms on the keys. McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make
them alive. That leaves Quirrell's spell and Snape's."
The next room contained an unconscious troll.
"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," said Harry as we passed through.
"Come on, I can't breathe."
The stench was bad enough we quickly moved on to a room containing a table, a
roll of paper, and seven bottles. As we stepped inside, purple fire rose up to
block our way back, and a wall of black flames blocked the way forward.
"Snape's. What do we have to do?" asked Harry.
"Look," said Hermione, grabbing the paper and reading. She smiled. "Brilliant.
This isn't magic. It's logic, a logic puzzle. A lot of great wizards haven't
got an ounce of logic. They'd be stuck here forever."
"But so will we, won't we?" asked Harry, nervous after reading over her
shoulder.
"Of course not," said Hermione. "Everything we need is on this paper. Seven
bottles. Three are poison. Two are wine. One will get us safely through the
black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."
"But how do we know which to drink?" asked Harry.
"Give me a minute," replied Hermione.
While she thought, I took some inspiration from the key room, where Harry had
recognized the right key by its damaged wing from when it had already been
caught. Examining the bottles themselves I made a concerning discovery.
"I don't think Snape's the one behind this," I said.
"What are you on about?" asked Ron.
"If this is Snape's protection, he would've known which bottle was the right
one ahead of time," I said. "Whoever's in on the other side of those flames
took a drink from all seven bottles."
"But three are poisoned," noted Ron.
"He must've brought beozars," I said, recalling the first day of potions. "We
should've brought beozars. What's wrong with us? We learn there's a universal
cure for most poisons and we don't keep them on us at all times? We're doing
that from now on."
"Got it," said Hermione. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black
fire, toward the Stone."
"There's only enough left for one of us," said Harry, examining the bottle.
"That's hardly one swallow. Which one will get you back through the purple
flames?"
She pointed.
"You four drink that," said Harry. When we started to speak, he said. "No,
listen. Grab brooms from the flying key room. They'll get you out of the
trapdoor and past Fluffy. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to
Dumbledore. We need him. I might be able to hold off Snape or whoever's in
there for a while, but I'm probably no match for him, really."
"But Harry," said Hermione when he finished, "what if You-Know-Who's in there?"
"Well, I was lucky once, wasn't I?" Harry said, pointing to his famous scar. "I
might get lucky again."
"You're not going in there alone," I said firmly, covering my entire body with
the Ultimate Shield, to the astonished gasps from the others at my inhuman
appearance. "It's just like what you did to Hagrid's hut," I said to Ron as
Sloth also donned the Ultimate Shield, looking like a bald, grey skinned demon.
"The human body has carbon who's bonds can be rearranged just like wood does.
Don't try it yourself."
"I wasn't planning on it," said Ron.
"You two are fireproof?" verified Harry.
"Hopefully," I said. "Give Loki some of the purple flame potion and get him to
safety with you. We're with you, Harry."
Hermione, Ron, and Loki drank their potion and disappeared through the purple
flames. Harry drank his and stepped into the black. Sloth and I ran into them
alongside him.
The Ultimate Shield is just a name. It worked by manipulating the bonds of
carbon in the body to make flesh as hard as diamond. But get a fire hot enough,
and even diamonds will burn. Thanks to his potion, Harry Potter emerged from
the flames intact and unscathed. On either side of him, a small pile of ashes
and charred bone dripped to the ground.
                                     * * *
If killing a homunculus was as easy as burning it to ash in enchanted flames,
we'd have been a lot less worried about Voldemort becoming one. Sparks of blue
alchemic light arced over the two piles of ashes, and a pair of skeletons
materialized. A wave of light passed over them, layering in muscle and
rebuilding organs. The third wave saw Sloth and I whole once again.
Our wands and robes had been burnt up in the fire, so we were dressed in the
black outfits our bodies were capable of producing. Sloth in her overall dress,
and me in my pants and vest, with my oroboros mark clearly visible in the
center of my chest. Pretending to be human after that entrance would be a
waste, so we both sported the pale skin, pointed teeth, and purple slitted eyes
of our natural forms.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief when we finished regenerating. On the other
side of the room, Professor Quirrell stood, smirking at us.
"I was right," I said grimly. "It wasn't Snape."
"Severus?" asked Quirrell with mocking laughter. "Yes, Severus does seem the
type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat.
Next to him, who would ever suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor
Quirrell?"
"But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry exclaimed.
"No, no, no," replied Quirrell in mocking good humor. "I tried to kill you.
Your friend, Miss Granger, accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set
fire to Snape at the Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you.
Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it
before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse trying to save you."
While he talked, I eyed the room. The Mirror of Erised was in the center. There
was no obvious sign of either Philosopher's Stone. Using alchemy on the walls,
floor, or ceiling was out until I could get to the red stones in the
cylindrical container in the corner powering my defenses.
"Snape was trying to save me?" asked Harry, trying to process this new reality.
"Of course," said Quirrell. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next
match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny really, he
needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the
other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning. He did
make himself unpopular. And what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm
going to kill you tonight."
Sloth rushed forward at those words, and I clapped my hands. My options for
alchemy were limited, but not nonexistent. Mimicking the signature technique of
Flame Alchemist, Roy Mustang, I transmuted the air around Quirrell into a
highly volatile mix of oxygen and hydrogen gas. A thin fuse of invisible
transmuted air ran between the bubble around Quirrell and the intense, black
flames behind me. I didn't have anything like Mustang's precision and control,
but the basics were enough to light Quirrell on fire.
Quirrell was engulfed in bright orange flames. Sloth skidded to a halt as
Quirrell screamed out in pain. Then the trained wizard snapped his fingers and
the screams turned to laughter. With the fire still surrounding him, but his
flesh unburned save for a slight reddening from the initial contact, he turned
toward me.
"Flame freezing charms," said Quirrell smugly as the fire burnt itself out from
lack of fuel. "You'll learn all about those in your second year. Well, you
won't."
Sloth resumed her rush as Quirell raised his hand. She pressed her palm to the
center of Quirrell's chest and widened her eyes in surprise.
"I assume you were expecting something to happen, puppet," said Quirrell. "Pity
Flamel didn't make you much more competent than actual first years."
He snapped his fingers again, and ropes suddenly bound myself, Sloth, and
Harry. Sloth couldn't phase through them while they were in the process of
being conjured, and with her plan of phasing her hand through his chest having
been thwarted somehow, we didn't immediately try to free ourselves while we
came up with a new plan of attack.
"You're all too nosy to live," said Quirrell. "Scurrying around the school on
Halloween like that, for all I knew, you'd seen me coming to look at what was
guarding the Stone."
"You let the troll in?" asked Harry.
"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls. You must have seen what I did to
the one in the chamber back there. Unfortunately, while everyone else was
running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight
to the third floor to head me off. And not only did my troll fail to beat you
to death, that three headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off
properly."
This guy did love to hear himself talk. Fortunately, it gave me time to think.
He'd bound my hands separately so I couldn't clap again. Fortunately, as a side
effect of the occlumency training, I'd learned to shape shift. I went with
something subtle that wouldn't be noticed. A small transmutation circle
appeared as a tattoo on my inner wrist. I could use it to deconstruct the ropes
when I had a plan for what to do when free.
"Now, wait quietly," said Quirrell. "I need to examine this interesting mirror.
This mirror is the key to finding the Stone. Trust Dumbledore to come up with
something like this, but he's in London. I'll be far away by the time he gets
back."
With the Philosopher's Stone, I could overcome whatever resistance he was
putting up to Sloth's powers and rip his body apart molecule by molecule. That
seemed like a fairly strong desire. If I could get in front of the mirror, I
could figure out where the Stone really was.
"I saw you and Snape in the forest," said Harry suddenly.
I took advantage of the distraction and caused a tendril to emerge from my body
and snake unseen to the front of the Mirror of Erised while Quirrell strolled
around the back of the mirror and kept talking.
"Yes," he said. "He was on to me by that time, trying to figure out how far I'd
got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me. As though he could with
Lord Voldemort on my side."
The tendril I'd extended from my body grew an eye that stared into the Mirror
of Erised. The mirror reflected me bursting my bonds and holding the
Philosopher's Stone toward Quirrell, tearing his body apart in a swirling
vortex of alchemic light. No useful clue where the Stone actually was. As
Quirrell got back to the front, I withdrew the eye stalk.
"I see the Stone," said Quirrell frustrated as he gazed into the mirror. "I'm
presenting it to my master, but where is it?"
At least he was no closer to the Stone than I was. The red stones in the corner
were weaker amplifiers, but if whatever resistance Quirrell had was weak
enough, they might be enough.
"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much," said Harry, keeping Quirrell
talking.
"Oh, he does. Heavens yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father. Didn't you
know? They loathed each other, but he never wanted you dead."
"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing," pressed Harry. "I thought Snape was
threatening you."
"Sometimes I find it hard to follow my master's instructions. He is a great
wizard and I am weak."
"You mean he was there, in the classroom with you?" asked Harry in shock.
"He is with me wherever I go. I met him when I traveled around the world. A
foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil.
Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil. There is
only power and those too weak to seek it. Since then, I have served him
faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard
on me. He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone
from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me, decided he would have
to keep a closer watch on me."
I had no idea how strong Quirrell was physically. The troll had looked like it
suffered a physical assault rather than a hex. I was stronger than a normal
human, but how much magic could be used to enhance your strength was an open
question. A straight fight should be a last resort.
"I don't understand," said Quirrell to himself. "Is the Stone inside the
mirror? Should I break it? What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me,
master."
I froze when a voice answered him. "Use the boy. Use the boy."
"Yes, Potter, come here," said Quirrell, clapping his hands and making Harry's
ropes disappear. Sloth and I remained bound. If Quirrell tried to hurt Harry,
I'd have to resort to physical violence and hope for the best.
"Come here. Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."
Harry looked terrified as he approached the mirror. I considered a
transmutation I'd only heard about. Edward Elric had described an alchemist
he'd met in Youswell that subsequently went on to have her body possessed by
Dante. It seemed like my best bet if I couldn't get the Stone.
"Well?" demanded Quirrell. "What do you see?"
"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," said Harry, haltingly. "I-I've
won the house cup for Gryffindor."
"Get out of the way," snapped Quirrell.
Then that voice declared, "He lies. He lies."
That voice wasn't Quirrell's, but it was definitely coming from his direction.
I tensed, preparing to act.
"Potter, come back here," ordered Quirrell. "Tell me the truth. What did you
just see?"
"Let me speak to him face to face," ordered the voice as Harry stood rigid,
paralyzed with fright.
"Master, you are not strong enough," argued Quirrell.
"I have strength enough for this." Quirrell unwrapped his turban, revealing a
familiar face on the back of his head. The creature in the forest had been
Quirrell, walking with this face forward. Whatever anatomical reconfigurations
had made this possible was likely making his body composition strange enough to
disrupt direct alchemy on it, and that explained Sloth not being able to phase
through him.
"Harry Potter," said Lord Voldemort from the back of Quirrell's head, "see what
I've become? Mere shadow and vapor. I have form only when I can share another's
body, but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and
minds. Unicorn blood has strengthened me these past weeks. Faithful Quirrell
was drinking it for me in the forest. And once I have t he Elixer of Life, I
will be able to create a body of my own. Now, why don't you give me those
Stones in your pockets?"
That was our cue. Sloth phased through her ropes and launched herself at
Quirrell. She still couldn't phase through him, but she punched him hard enough
in Voldemort's face to make him stumble to one knee before Quirrell could
react.
In the same instant, I activated the transmutation circle on my wrist,
deconstructing my ropes and ran for the bin of red stones.
Harry staggered back away from Quirrell, trying to escape, but unsure where to
go in the enclosed space.
A bolt of green light flew from Quirrell's hand and Sloth crumpled to the
ground. Blue light coming off her body told me she was regenerating from
whatever Quirrell just did to her. Quirrell grabbed at Harry and caught hold of
his wrist. Quirrell snatched his hand away from Harry. His hand was burnt worse
than when I'd hit him with flame alchemy.
"Master, I cannot hold him. My hands, my hands," screamed Quirrell.
"Then kill him, fool, and be done," declared Voldemort.
I stopped running for the red stones, clapped my hands, and spun on my heel to
face Quirrell. Opening my hands a few inches appart, an orb of blue light
appeared between them, as transmuted air was compressed to the point of
liquefying. Quirrell raised a hand to do to Harry what he'd done to Sloth, and
I opened a hole in the orb of transmuted air that was containing the rest. With
the force of a tornado, the blast of pressurized air hit Quirrell, lifting the
wizard off his feet and slamming him into the far wall hard enough for the
stone to crack.
Red light emerged from the crack as the alchemy I'd used to protect this
corridor repaired the damaged wall. No similar force acted to restore
Quirrell's broken body.
"Are you okay?" asked Sloth as she finished regenerating and stood up.
Before either of us could respond, a dark smoke with a face rose off Quirrell's
body and launched itself at me. The moment it made contact, I was under a
psychic assault. It hit with a mental force ten times as strong as anything
Dumbledore had employed in our lessons, and came at me through every angle at
once. As I blocked Lord Voldemort's spirit from suppressing my consciousness
and supplanting control over my body, I could feel him probing for information,
some clue as to how I might be manipulated in the future. I managed to keep him
from managing that as well. I pushed memories of intense pain in the way of
Voldemort's probing mind. Automail being attached. Being dissected by the
Nazis. Existing as a pile of raw nerves and misshapen organs on my laboratory
floor. He pulled away.
Voldemort's spirit, determined to posses a homunculus today, launched itself at
Sloth. Harry ran over to Sloth and pressed his hands to her face as she
collapsed to the ground. Sloth's skin blistered and boiled, regenerating just
as fast, while Harry screamed, "Get out of her!"
It worked. Voldemort's spirit was forced out of Sloth, and fled Harry's touch
through the wall of black flames. Harry himself passed out from the effort a
moment later.
"Are you okay?" I asked Sloth.
Touching Harry's hand to her forearm tentatively and verifying she wasn't
burned, Sloth nodded. "He didn't get through the occlumency."
I quickly rummaged through Harry's pockets and retrieved the two Philosopher's
Stones. Harry himself was still breathing, but couldn't be roused. I pocketed
the Stones and resumed my human appearance. Sloth took the red stones from the
container in the corner and ate them to replenish her regeneration powers
before taking on her brown haired, blue eyed, human appearance.
"Let's get him to Madam Pomfrey," I said, lifting Harry's unconscious body by
the shoulders. Sloth took his legs and phased us through the back wall.
                                     * * *
Author's comments:
Greed is an analytical fighter who very rarely wins his first fight against a
given opponent. Quirrell's abilities and peculiar body plan managed to catch
our heroes off guard, and if he'd pressed his advantage instead of giving a
villain monologue, he'd have won outright. The last thing you should ever do is
give an alchemist time to think.
***** The Elixir of Life *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 12) The Elixir of Life
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Dumbledore arrived in the Hogwarts infirmary shortly after Sloth and I had
explained what happened to Harry and he'd been put in bed for observation.  

"Is anyone else hurt?" asked Dumbledore as he looked Harry up and down.  

"Ron took a nasty blow to the head from the chess set, but he's already been
patched up," I told him.  

"Harry just collapsed after driving Voldemort's spirit out of my body," said
Sloth with concern.  "Madam Pomfrey can't wake him up and alchemy's useless if
we don't know what's wrong with him.  What happened to Harry?"  

"I can't be certain," Dumbledore admitted, "but the two of you have heard the
story of how Voldemort tried to kill Harry as a baby?"  

We nodded.  

"I believe that whatever happened that night forged a connection between the
two of them.  While Voldemort assaulted both of your minds, your occlumency
training helped you weather the blow.  I believe when Harry touched Voldemort's
current host, he was open to a similar form of attack."  

"You knew Voldemort was here," I accused Dumbledore.  "Why didn't you teach him
to protect his mind with occlumency?"  

"Because I didn't believe you would drag him into danger," replied Dumbledore. 
"That is a bit unfair, yes?  We both believed we could protect Harry.  I didn't
anticipate all of you needing to rush to protect the Stones.  I intended to
deal with it myself when he made his move.  We both underestimated the danger."
 

"What was your plan?" I asked after a long moment, with no further accusation
in my voice.  "The security you set up for the Stones was laughable.  Enchanted
to fly around or no, you don't leave the key to a lock just outside the door. 
And then there were the potions with the right one written down right next to
them."  

A twinkle returned to the old man's eye as he said, "Yes, the corridor was so
simple a handful of first years could navigate it.  Tell me, did Voldemort read
the note to figure out the potions?"  

"No," I said.  "He just drank them all."  

"The tests were easy for you because you weren't who we were trying to stop,"
explained Dumbledore.  "Lord Voldemort was a powerful wizard, but at least as
of the time of his disappearance, he was still only human.  He had strengths
and weaknesses just like we all do.  Far too many people, with this 'You-Know-
Who' nonsense have forgotten he was a man, not some embodiment of fundamental
evil."  

"You mean he was bad enough at herbology that he wouldn't recognize Devil's
Snare?" asked Sloth incredulously.  

"I expect he's spent all year confronted with his own shortcomings as he worked
out how to reach the mirror.  My hope was that he would go through all that,
then be stopped by the mirror until I could arrive and confront him."  

"How did Harry get the Stones?" I asked.  

"Ah, I'm quite proud of that one," said Dumbledore beaming.  "I enchanted the
mirror such that only one who wanted to find the Stones, but not use them would
be able to get them.  Otherwise, they'd just see themselves making gold or
drinking the Elixer of Life."  

"The Elixir!" I realized with a start.  "Do you think that would help Harry? 
It's supposed to cure any ailment in addition to extending the drinker's
lifespan indefinitely with regular use, right?"  

"Perhaps," mused Dumbledore.  "In any event, I can't see how it would do him
any harm.  It would be fitting, I think, for that to be the Stone's last use."
 

"Last use?" I asked.  

"As I said, we have underestimated our enemy.  If we are to close this means of
resurrection to him, the Philosopher's Stones must be destroyed."  

"I don't see how that's your call to make, Dumbledore.  For either Stone," I
said, putting a hand reflexively over my pocket.  

"I have no intention of forcing the matter," said Dumbledore pleasantly.  "I
merely intend to speak with the Flamels about my concerns."  

"Destroying the Stone would be a waste," I said firmly.  "It would make the
price paid to create it meaningless."  

Dumbledore sighed.  "And I am to believe it was a high price indeed that both
you and Master Flamel have paid."  

"Thousands of human lives must be sacrificed to forge a Stone," I said.  

"Which would explain where the Elixir gets the life to grant its drinker," said
Dumbledore sadly.  "I had long suspected there was a darker cost to the
Philosopher's Stone's gifts than I knew.  It seems to be a law of the universe
that seeking eternal life comes with such costs."  

Sloth took my hand and squeezed it as I went on, my vision starting to blur
from tears.  "My Stone was made from people being targeted at ground zero of a
nuclear bombing.  Your world has nuclear weapons, right?  Well, I made the call
that more lives would be saved letting the bomb drop and hopefully ending the
war than by stopping it and letting the fighting continue.  I made this
Philosopher's Stone from their lives so that the entire business would be less
of a waste."  

"I can only hope my old friend had similar reasons," said Dumbledore, putting
his hand on my shoulder.  "It must be very heavy."  

"One more question," said Sloth as Dumbledore turned to leave.  "What is it
about Harry that let him drive out Voldemort's spirit?  Why does his touch burn
Voldemort's hosts?"  

"That is two questions," corrected the school headmaster.  "Harry's mother gave
up her life to protect him from Voldemort.  Old, deep magic indeed.  His
mother's love for him still lingers long after she's gone.  I believe that is
what saved him on the day Voldemort's power broke, and it continues to protect
him even now."  

"I should brew the Elixir," I said after Dumbledore had gone.  

"I'll stay with Harry, in case he wakes up," said Sloth.  

                                     * * *


The Quidditch field was in use for the Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor game. 
Without their star seeker, Gryffindor didn't stand a chance.  It didn't seem
fair winning this way.  Unable to get to my private lab, I headed down to the
potions classroom in the dungeons to brew the Elixir of Life for Harry.  

I found Snape there grading papers.  He really wasn't a fan of Quidditch.  

"Mister Oren, I'm not giving out exam grades early.  You'll have to wait like
everyone else."  

"I'm not here for that, Professor Snape.  I just wanted to sue the work space
to brew something to help Harry.  You have heard what happened?"  

"Miss Granger and Mister Weasley have been spreading the story through half the
school since before it was even over," commented Snape with annoyance.  "What
are you planning to brew?"  

I produced the Philosopher's Stone from my pocket and said, "The Elixir of
Life."  

"Should I ask why the Headmaster hasn't confiscated that from you already,
Oren?"  

"He needs to talk to the Flamels about what to do with the Stone after this. 
He's letting me try this to see if it'll revive Harry from his coma."  

"Just be sure you pay attention to the brewing directions.  The last thing
Potter needs right now is a misbrewed elixir from an overconfident first year."
 

"Would you supervise, Professor?" I asked.  "Make sure I don't mess it up?"  

"I haven't the time to hold your hand through everything," he snapped.  "Brew
your elixir and I'll look it over when it's done so you don't poison the boy."
 

As I worked, I said, "I'm sorry we suspected you of being the one trying to
steal the Stone.  And I'm sorry we suspected you of trying to murder Harry." 
Snape snorted and didn't look up from his papers.  "Quirrell said you've been
saving Harry's life all year.  We misjudged you.  We should have listened to
Hagrid when he stuck up for you."  

After that there was only the sound of the scratching of Snape's quill and the
simmering of my cauldron.  When the liquid had taken on the same blood red
color as the Stone itself, I brought by cauldron up to Professor Snape to
examine.  

"This is the first opportunity I've had to examine the Elixir of Life in
person," admitted Snape.  "The color and consistency are as they should be.  I
sincerely hope you appreciate the privileged you've been given, being allowed
to make this potion.  Now, go give it to Potter."  

                                     * * *


On the way back to the infirmary, I found Ron and Hermione.  They had Loki with
them, who bounded over to me excitedly.  

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Hermione, indicating the bottle I was
carrying.  

"It's for Harry," I said.  "It's supposed to be able to cure anything, so I'm
hoping it'll bring him around."  

"Let's go," insisted Ron.  

As we walked, they explained that after they'd left the potion room, they'd
encountered Dumbledore in the corridor.  He'd rushed down when he heard Harry
was still down there.  Ron had kept ahold of Harry's invisibility cloak, which
proved necessary when Madam Pomfrey declared that there were too many of us to
visit Harry together.  

The others snuck in and I gave Harry the Elixir of Life.  Immediately, he
stirred and began to come around.  

"The Stones!  Voldemort!" said Harry when he came to.  

"It's okay," I said.  "The Stones are both safe and Voldemort fled after you
drove him out of Sloth.  

Harry relaxed then looked at his surroundings.  "How long have I been here?"  

"All day," said Ron.  "You missed the Quidditch match with Ravenclaw.  We got
slammed without you."  

"We were all worried about you," said Hermione.  

"I wanted to thank you," said Sloth.  "You got hurt trying to save me."  

"It sounds like it all turned out okay," said Harry dismissively.  

"Get some rest, mate," said Ron.  "You want to get well enough that Madam
Pomfrey'll let you go to the end of year feast.  Slytherin won, of course, but
the food'll be good."

                                     * * *


A few days later, Dumbledore approached Sloth and I while we were assigning Ron
his alchemy homework for over the summer.  We'd be starting elemental
transmutation next year if he'd fully mastered manipulating chemical
composition by then.  

"I've returned form speaking with the Flamels," he said.  "They ahve agreed
that with the threat of Voldemort returning, the Philosopher's Stone must be
destroyed."  

"What?" asked Ron.  "Flamel's just going to die?"  

"The Flamels have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then,
yes, they will die.  To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but
to Nicolas and Perenell, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long
day.  After all, to the well organized mind, death is but the next great
adventure.  

"You know, the Stone is really not such a wonderful thing.  As much money and
life as you could want.  The two things most human beings would choose above
all.  The trouble is, humans do have a knack for choosing precisely those
things that are worst for them."  

"I think I might have a way to put the Stone permanently out of Voldemort's
reach without making the forging itself a waste," I said.  "It'll still mean no
more Elixir of Life."  

Dumbledore nodded.  I took both Stones out of my pocket and handed Flamel's to
Sloth.  Together, we bit into our Philosopher's Stones and swallowed them.  

"Well, I suppose that would qualify as destroyed," laughed Dumbledore, who was
still chuckling as he left.  

"He's mental," said Ron when Dumbledore had gone.  "I didn't really just see
you destroy two Philosopher's Stones, did I?"  

"The Philosopher's Stone is a crutch for weak alchemists," I said.  "It lets
people perform miracles without putting in the work to really appreciate what
they're doing.  I don't agree with Dumbledore's value judgement.  Infinite
wealth and infinite life seem like fine things to me.  Maybe they aren't
everything, but they're not exactly mutually exclusive with the other good
things in life.  Do your homework over the summer, and next year I'll teach you
to transmute the elements and make gold.  Stick with it after that, and I'll
teach you how to make yourself immortal.  No Philosopher's Stone required."  

"But still," said Ron.  "I thought you needed it to get back to your world."  

"The Gate we traveled to get to this world can be navigated without a
Philosopher's Stone," said Sloth, "but time doesn't flow the same way between
worlds.  We theorized that the Stone could be used to control the time
difference, but we haven't confirmed it.  We hoped to use the Stone to let us
return to our world shortly after we left, instead of maybe after everyone we
ever knew is long dead."  

"But using the Stone like that was never a sure thing," I said.  "Being at this
school has pushed me to try new things with alchemy, and learning what we can
about this world's magic might let us find a more certain way to get back at a
reasonable time."  

                                     * * *


Harry had been released form observation in the infirmary so he could attend
the end of year feast in the Great Hall.  The Hall was decorated in Slytherin
colors and banners to celebrate their victory in the House Cup.  Dumbledore
rose for a speach.  

"Another year gone, and I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle
before we sink our teeth into this delicious feast.  What a year it has been! 
Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were.  You have the
whole summer to start to get them nice and empty before next year starts."  

Following that, Dumbledore read off the current tally of House points.  As
shown by the decorations, Slytherin had won.  

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," congratulated Dumbledore, "however recent
events must be taken into account.  Ahem.  I have a few last minute points to
dish out.  Let me see, yes.  

"Firstly, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best game of chess Hogwarts has seen
in many years, I award Gryffindor fifty points.  

"Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for use of cool logic in the face of fire, I
award Gryffindor house fifty points.  

"Third, to Miss Nina Tucker, for an unfailing drive to protect others at great
cost to herself, I aware Hufflepuff house fifty points.  

"Fourth, to Mr. Marcus Oren, for an unflinching willingness to seek the truth
and act when the time is right, I award Ravenclaw house fifty points.  

"Fifthly, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award
Gryffindor house sixty points.  

"There are all kinds of courage.  It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up
to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.  I therefor award
ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."  

And just like that, Slytherin had gone from the top to the bottom.  The
Gryffindors were all cheering, and I was getting slaps on the back from my
fellow Ravenclaws, we'd still been shunning me up to that point.  

"Which means, we need a little change of decoration," said Dumbledore, who
clapped his hands and magically changed the banners and colors from Slytherin
to Gryffindor.  

None of the Slytherins looked happy.  Snape tried to be magnanimous and shake
McGonagall's hand, but it was plain to everyone he was forcing it.  Was there
really any need for all the theatrics?  Dumbledore could've awarded those
points before the feast so the Slytherins wouldn't come in expecting victory
only to see it snatched away suddenly and publicly.  Sure, Draco, Crabbe, and
Goyle were jerks, but that didn't mean a quarter of the school was evil.  

                                     * * *


Our marks came in the next day.  I ranked second in the first years, just below
Hermione.  In most subjects, we were dead even, with the maximum points
available, but my flying was bad enough that I'd just barely passed that
course.  Sloth did exceptionally well for this being her first real experience
with this sort of education.  

Our things were packed and transported back to the Hogwarts Express through the
same mysterious method they'd gotten off the train by.  An investigation to
perhaps pursue next year.  Meanwhile, we were loaded back on to the boats and
carried across the lake to the waiting train.  We'd all been given letters
warning us not to use magic over the summer.  

At the platform, we bid goodbye to our new friends.  Ron promised to send an
owl once he'd talked his parents into letting us come for a stay with his
family in the summer.  Sloth and I left the platform together.  

"So, what do we do while we wait for Ron's owl?" asked Sloth.  

"I figure we make a bunch of gold and open an account at Gringotts, visit a
muggle library or two, and most importantly, find a place to get those swimming
lessons we keep getting distracted from."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
This chapter represents the first of many times Dumbledore will be called out
in the course of this story.  It's as mild as it is because Sloth and Greed are
still new to this world and haven't learned much about just how much of the
current situation is Dumbledore's fault.  That will escalate over time. 
Meanwhile, I hope you've enjoyed this trip through book one. 
***** Romantic Interlude 13 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 13) Romantic Interlude 13
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *
***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children. You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story. If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 14.
***WARNING***
                                     * * *
Adopting adult forms, Sloth and I carried armloads of transmuted gold bars
through the Leaky Cauldron, along Diagon Alley, and into the wizard bank of
Gringotts, Loki trotting at our heels.
"Is this the right place to exchange these gold bars for galleons?" I asked the
goblin at the counter.
He smiled and said, "Yes, I can help you with that here. Assuming those are
real."
I set the heavy sack of gold bars on the counter and Sloth did the same. The
goblin teller tapped the bricks and performed a number of tests, most of which
I didn't understand. At length, he nodded and put the bars on a scale, then
into what looked like a mine cart behind him.
"Not many people bring a thousand galleons worth of pure gold right up to the
front counter," commented the goblin as he countered out the coins for us.
"We've recently moved to England," said Sloth. "We had our savings converted to
gold before the move. There's a good deal more, but carrying it all at once..."
"We were hoping to deposit most of it here for save keeping," I said.
"I can offer you a vault rental," said the teller, who pulled out a set of
papers from under his desk. "Gringotts takes security seriously, and all of our
vaults are protected by powerful enchantments and guardians. For clients who
desire additional security, we offer a variety of options in our deeper vaults,
for a higher fee, of course."
"Money is no object," I declared cheerfully.
"Excellent," declared the goblin, rubbing his fingers together before filling
in his paperwork. "I'll put you down for one of our deepest vaults, protected
by a dragon, the thief's downfall, and all of our standard security measures of
course. You'll be free to put any additional security enchantments inside the
vault you see fit, and we can provide the services of our experts if you'd like
a security charm you can't perform yourself. For an additional fee, we can have
any experts obliviated after working in your fault so neither the contents nor
the full security specifications will be known to anyone but you."
"We'll look into that another time," I said. "After we've relocated our gold
into the vault. Can we request an additional security measure now, though?"
"Of course," said the teller, his quill hovering over the contract parchments.
I opened my robe's front and revealed the oroboros mark on my chest. "I want
you to refuse access to the vault to anyone without this mark on their body,
even if everything else is in order."
"Done," said the goblin, sketching down the symbol on the page and noting my
instructions.
After going over the paperwork, Sloth and I were each handed a vault key. The
gold that hadn't been spent on the vault itself, we had changed for muggle
money at a different counter. We'd fill the vault later. Thanking the goblins,
we left Gringotts and Diagon Alley for the day.
                                     * * *
Our first day back in the muggle world, Sloth and I found a nice hotel with a
pool and a swim instructor. We paid extra for a room with a balcony for
receiving owls.
"There's a library a couple blocks away," I said as we set down our luggage in
our room.
"You go ahead," said Sloth. "You can give me an imprint when you get back. I'm
going to get started on this summer homework they assigned to us." She sighed
and unloaded her books onto the large desk in our room. Loki curled up on the
floor next to her.
"I'll be back before the swim lessons tonight," I told her, then gave Sloth a
long, lingering kiss before heading out.
I'd loaded all of the unused red stones we'd produced over the year into my
trunk before we'd left Hogwarts. I had a few in my pocket as I visited the
library. Unlike the Hogwarts library overseen by Madame Pince, the muggle
library was staffed by helpful librarians who pointed me towards encyclopedias
of general knowledge, books on physics, chemistry and biology, and world
history. Taking a seat at a table where my selected books had been stacked, I
held a red stone in one hand and touched the stack of encyclopedias with the
other.
Words seemed to leap out of the books I'd touched, spinning in midair and
rearranging themselves before my eyes as the red stone allowed me to instantly
assimilate and understand their contents. The red stone dulled and cracked in
my hand, its power spent. I exhausted all the red stones I'd brought to the
library before heading back to the hotel. This world's science was the most
advanced of any of the worlds we'd visited so far. They still hadn't gotten the
idea of automail, but otherwise, the knowledge I was able to glean from just
that first trip was impressive. And, as hoped, it gave me some direction for my
subsequent inquiries at the library.
Sloth had reverted to her four year old body while I'd been at the library. She
was still working on her summer homework, though a small stack of drawings on
the desk indicated she'd taken a break or two. I clapped my hands and pressed a
palm to the oroboros on Sloth's back, copying the knowledge I'd gained at the
library into her mind.
"Welcome back, Greed," said Sloth when her oroboros mark stopped glowing blue.
"Looks like the muggle libraries are just as much of a gold mine as the wizard
ones."
"Seems so," I said, then kissed her hello.
Sloth concentrated for a moment, and her clothing changed before my eyes. Her
black overall dress converted into a skintight black one piece bathing suit.
She hopped up and posed, asking, "What do you think?"
I stared unabashedly, taking in every line and curve of her body accentuated by
the simple garment. "I like what I see a lot," I said eventually, inspiring a
faint blush from Sloth.
I banished most of my clothing, shifting my pants into a pair of black swim
trunks. Sloth's eyes ran over my body, and from her expression, she liked what
she saw just as much as I did. "These lessons might get a little distracting,"
she noted.
                                     * * *
Sloth picked up the basics of floating and propelling herself through the water
faster than I did. I suppose my desert upbringing left me with less context
than she had. I still managed to pick up a basic doggy paddle before our first
lesson came to an end.
Drying ourselves with the hotel's towels, we made our way back up to our room.
We happily discussed our progress together, hopeful that we'd be swimming laps
together before we got the owl to visit Ron.
Once the door was closed, all pretense was dropped as Sloth leapt into my arms
and pressed her lips to mine. I supported her with a hand on her butt and the
other on her shoulder, covering her oroboros mark. Both of Sloth's arms were
wrapped around my neck.
"We get to sleep together again," said Sloth enthusiastically when our lips
parted. "No one checking up on us. No curfews. No separate dormitories."
"We should enjoy it while we can" I agreed. "I doubt we'll get much privacy
while we're visiting Ron's family."
I slid the fingers of the hand I had supporting Sloth's butt between her legs
and pressed on the skintight material covering her crotch. Sloth laid her head
on my shoulder and moaned low in my ear.
Carrying Sloth over to the bed, I dismissed my swim trunks and continued
fondling her crotch through her bathing suit. When we reached our destination,
I turned Sloth around and laid back on the bed. One hand continued to
masturbate her through the swimsuit while I groped her chest with my other
hand. Sloth leaned her head back while she laid, face up, on top of me, and
turned her head far enough to kiss me.
Sloth sucked on my tongue as I rubbed her chest and crotch. Her toes curled as
I stimulated her to orgasm. Letting it come and go in a human time frame, Sloth
groped around with her feet until she found my erect penis. With one foot, she
began stroking the shaft, and with her other, she probed at the head with her
toes. It didn't take much of that attention before I came. Her feet were
covered in semen.
Sloth finally broke our kiss, giggling. "You liked that, did you?"
"I think all that cum on your toes speaks for itself," I said, breathing hard
and grinning broadly.
She stuck a leg straight up in the air and wiggled her toes, examining the
results as I continued to touch her perfect little body. Suddenly, she rolled
off me, and her swimsuit vanished. Lying naked on the bed next to me, Sloth
turned her head to face me and said, "I want you to cum inside me right now."
I resisted the urge to pause for a kiss or to suck one of her nipples as I
climbed on top of the child. She was already very aroused, and my erect penis
managed to squeeze inside her prepubescent vagina with only a minimal effort.
Her body was in the troes of its second orgasm before I'd penetrated half her
depth. Now I understood the urgency of her request. With a grunt of exertion, I
forced my penis inside Sloth's body, filling her vagina completely with just
half of my erection.
Sloth called out loudly as I started to pump semen into her tight body. Our
mutual climax was extended thanks to our regenerative powers, and neither of us
wanted this to stop.
We were so focused on one another's bodies, we hadn't noticed the knocking at
the hotel room door. When it swung open, Loki gave a warning bark, as the maid
looked into the room.
I flashed back to the last time we'd been caught. That time it'd been
deliberate, so I could infiltrate a Nazi concentration camp. The books I'd
assimilated that morning told me that while there were no concentration camps,
the general sentiment towards pedophiles here wasn't much different than it had
been under the Nazis.
Sloth thought fast, recognizing that she was still mostly hidden under my body.
She lengthened her limbs, grew breasts that pressed against my chest as her
size became comparable to mine, and pulled my still twitching penis all the way
inside her deepened vagina. Plastering a look of surprise on her face, she
turned toward the maid and screamed.
Hopping off the bed, and grabbing a sheet, Sloth scrambled clumsily to hold it
in front of her, making sure the maid got a good look at her as she went. "What
are you doing? Get out!" yelled Sloth at the maid who beat a hasty retreat.
Recovering my calm, I said, "'Do not disturb' sign on the door. Right." I got
up and retrieved the cardboard hanger. Wrapping my waist with another sheet, I
opened the door to hang the sign on the exterior knob.
"I'm so sorry, sir," said the maid, who was still just outside. "I thought
that... That is to say, I thought I heard... Never mind." She quickly scurried
down the hall and out of sight.
"Well, we thought we'd be safe and have some privacy," said Sloth as I shut the
door. She'd dropped the sheet and was sitting on the corner of the bed,
pouting.
"I guess we can only trust our secured, soundproof getaways," I said.
"I was enjoying that, too," said Sloth, unhappily. "I suppose that means I'll
have to stay in this form if we want to sleep together, since someone might
come in."
Looking her body over properly, I said, "Even with being completely surprised,
your first choice of an adult form was everything I told you I liked. No body
hair, rounded face, boobs and butt, and just the right amount of tone."
Sloth smiled as I complimented her thoughtfulness and said, "You know, since
you didn't check in to the hotel with a grown woman, I think I'm going to make
sure you look like the biggest player ever. If they walk in on us again,
they'll find you with a different woman every night."
"That sounds like fun," I said, getting into the spirit of the game. "Well,
since you're stuck with this for tonight, we might as well use them."
Sloth's mood improved as I laid her onto her back and put my erect penis
between her breasts. She squeezed them together with her hands and I rubbed
myself between them until I spurted a load of semen onto her face.
We both felt relaxed and vindicated after that, and I spooned up behind her as
we settled down into bed. I squeezed her breasts and pressed my penis between
Sloth's butt cheeks as I closed my eyes. we went to sleep in that position.
                                     * * *
Author's comments:
If the summer was going to go perfectly, there's be little motivation to accept
Ron's invitation when it comes. Besides, a reminder that not all the taboos of
previous worlds are absent in this one is important.
***** The First Summer Vacation *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 14) The First Summer Vacation
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


For the next week, we adopted a routine.  Each morning, we'd take a wheelbarrow
of transmuted gold to Gringotts, have it changed for Galleons, and put the
money in our vault.  Then I'd visit the library in the afternoon while Sloth
worked on the summer homework I'd finished in the week before our exam results
came in.  Come evening, we'd take our swimming lessons together, then retreat
to our room.  

When I returned from the library after a full week of that routine, Sloth was
holding up a pair of letters that had been delivered while I was out.  

"The owl Ron sent was in pretty bad shape," said Sloth, handing me the
letters.  A quick glance showed they were mostly updates from Ron and
Hermione.  Hermione was on a trip with her parents and wouldn't be able to
visit Ron's house.  Ron was expecting us soon.  

"I sent the letters we wrote Harry, Ron, and Hermione with Ron's owl," Sloth
continued.  "I hope they make it.  I also took the liberty of telling Ron we'd
be there tomorrow."  

"That works for me," I said.  "These directions look straightforward enough."  

So, the following morning, Sloth and I checked out of the hotel, adopted the
appearance of twelve year olds, and made our way to the Burrow.  A cab took us
close, so we didn't have to lug our trunks the whole way.  With a Philosopher's
Stone fueling both of us, the trunks weren't really heavy, but pretending they
were got boring very quickly.  Loki, meanwhile, was just happy to get out of
the city and breathe the fresh air.  

The Burrow itself was a crooked, multistory house with a large, ill maintained
garden.  A handful of chickens were wandering the yard, but they scattered at
the sound of a large explosion from an upper level window.  Thick, black smoke
poured out of the open window, and one of the twins stuck his head out, his
freckled face covered in soot.  

Sloth and I were about to run up and render assistance when he waved at us in a
friendly manner and ducked back inside.  A moment later, Fred, George, Ron, and
Percy came out the front door, accompanied by a younger girl and a short woman.
 

"Give you a hand with your trunks?" offered a twin, as the boys took our
luggage and carried it up toward the house.  

"You must be the exchange students Ron's been telling us so much about," said
the woman.  "I want you to feel right at home here.  You must be hungry after
your trip."  

"We don't want to impose," I started before being shushed.  

"Nonsense.  It's as easy to feed a dozen as it is to cook for one.  Now, come
along inside."  

"My name is Generva," said the younger sister.  "Everyone calls me Ginny. 
What's your name?"  

"Greed," I said as we were ushered into the Weasleys' kitchen.  

"I'm Sloth," said Sloth as she looked around the cluttered kitchen.  

"Is Ron really friends with Harry Potter?" asked Ginny.  "He says so, but Harry
hasn't sent one owl."  

"Of course I'm friends with Harry," said Ron entering the cramped room with the
other boys.  "So are they.  Tell her."  

"You want us to tell her about fighting the troll together?" I asked Ron.  

"Harry tried to save my life," said Sloth, recalling the scene with a smile.  

"I knew he was a hero," said Ginny, dreamily.  

"I'm the one that knocked out that troll," said Ron with annoyance.  

While we talked, Mrs. Weasley had been demonstrating precisely what she meant,
as the sausages she was frying duplicated themselves in the pan with a tap of
her wand.  

"Wait a minute," I said, suddenly.  "I thought you couldn't conjure food.  It
was in our transfiguration tests."  

"Of course you can't," said Mrs. Weasley.  "I'm just multiplying."  

"They're both muggleborns," said Ron, "so this is all still pretty new to
them."  

"We're both quick studies," said Sloth, "but there's a lot to take in."  

"I'm sure dad'll have all sorts of questions for you when he gets home," said
Ginny.  

"If you need a rescue from that, let us know," offered one of the twins.  

Mrs. Weasley piled sausages on plates for me and Sloth, then set the pan down
for Loki.  Not for the first time, I was grateful for the chimera's robust
digestive system as I tasted the first of the greasy sausages.  Multiplication
magic would explain the seeming wastefulness of the Hogwarts feasts.  

"You can stay in my room while you're here," said Ginny to Sloth.  "We're close
to the top of the stairs."  

"And you're with me," said Ron.  "We've already got your trunks up."  

"After you eat, did you want to come out and play some Quidditch with us?"
asked one of the twins.  

"You can borrow our brooms and take turns," offered the other.  

"My flying's pretty embarrassing," I warned them, "but Sloth and I have got our
own brooms.  I'll play."  

"Me too," said Sloth.  

"What about you, Percy?" asked Ron.  "You in?"  

"I'm busy," he replied.  "You go along."  

"Can I come?" asked Ginny.  

"You're too young," said one of the twins firmly.  

"You haven't even had your first flying lessons yet," said the other.  

"I'll bet I can fly circles around you," shot Ginny.  

"Don't we need more people anyway?" asked Sloth.  "Even with Ginny, we won't
have enough for even one full team."  

"Besides, lessons or no, she can't fly much worse than the two of us," I
added.  "Both of us barely passed the class."  

"You see," said Ginny, adapting to having an ally in what looked to have been a
long standing argument with speed and grace.  

"You don't have a broom," said Ron.  

"You already offered to take turns for us," said Sloth.  "Besides, if Percy
isn't coming, maybe he'll let her borrow his."  

"Percy?" asked Ginny with practiced sweetness.  

"Go ahead," said Percy distractedly.  "I'm heading up to my room."  

Their objections exhausted, Ginny was included in the game.  We all went to
gather our broomsticks.  My trunk had been moved to the top floor, just below
the attic.  Ron led me up.  

"Don't mind that," said Ron when a loud clattering noise sounded from above. 
"The ghoul in the attic likes to drop pipes if it thinks things are getting too
quiet."  

"Is it dangerous?" I asked.  

"If it was, we'd have got it out of the attic," said Ron.  "Why'd you fight so
hard to let Ginny play?"  

"You think I want to be the worst flier out there?" I asked, retrieving my
broom.  

"What model is that?" asked Ron.  Then, "Are those alchemy marks?"  

"Normal brooms don't work for us," I said, slinging it over my shoulder. 
"We've been scrambling on the school brooms all year.  This'll be our first
chance to try out these."  

                                     * * *


Ginny asked about Harry's Quidditch games while we made our way to the tree
lined field where the Weasleys practiced.  Fred and George asked us about our
brooms when they could get a word in edgewise.  Sloth just said they were
custom made and resumed answering Ginny's never ending supply of questions
about Harry to avoid getting into more detail.  

The balls the Weasleys had brought weren't enchanted, so there wouldn't be any
questions if they were lost and turned up in the nearby muggle village.  I
instructed Loki to catch any dropped balls, then the six of us mounted our
brooms and kicked off the ground.  

The array being engraved into the wood of my broomstick, and not needing to
adjust the alchemy on the fly with a red stone, made an enormous difference. 
Sloth and I were first off the ground, my broom trailing blue light from its
active array and Sloth's trailing red.  It was almost effortless to bring
myself around and hover.  

"Way better than the school brooms," said Sloth, flying next to me.  

"Those have some great takeoff time," said one of the twins.  "Mind if we give
them a try after we play a few rounds?"  

"Sorry," I said, sincerely.  "They've got some extra security in case someone
tries to steal them.  They only work for us."  

The half-truth inspired awe rather than suspicion, and we got started with the
game.  I'd added every feature from every racing broom I'd read about last year
in Hogwarts, and a few speed and maneuverability upgrades of my own, to the
brooms Sloth and I rode.  They were plainly better equipment than the older
brooms the Weasley siblings rode.  That didn't change the fact that the twins
were on their house team for a reason, and Ron had plainly gotten more out of
the flying lessons than we had.  Ginny was wobbly, but didn't crash, which was
better than half our class' first time on a broom.  

The result was that while Sloth and I could out-speed and out-corner them, we
both had trouble juggling the quaffle and bludgers while we were doing it and
kept losing track of people since we weren't used to dealing with three
dimensions.  On the plus side, by the end of the game, I'd finally worked out
how to tell Fred and George apart.  

                                     * * *


Ron showed me to his room that evening.  Loki sniffed at Scabbers sleeping on a
window sill before settling down for the night.  

"How's your homework coming along?" I asked Ron when we were alone.  "Sloth's
almost done with hers."  

"I'll get it done," said Ron with a guilty glance at his schoolbooks, which
were stacked on a corner.  

"I hope so," I said.  "I'm looking forward to teaching elemental
transmutation.  Speaking of which, Harry's birthday is over the summer, isn't
it?"  

"Yeah, in a few weeks," said Ron.  "I'll try and ask Percy to borrow Hermes to
send his card.  Did you want to send something?"  

"Just a card," I said after a moment's thought.  "The gift will have to wait
until we're on the Hogwarts Express."  

"What're you getting him?" asked Ron.  

"Voldemort attacked Harry last year," I said.  "He'll probably do it again at
some point.  I'm going to make Harry a weapon to defend himself with."  

"What sort of weapon?"  

"Harry's already got the power to drive Voldemort out of a host body.  The
trouble is stopping his spirit form.  There's an advanced technique in alchemy
that can be used to bind a person's soul to metal.  If that metal is, for
example, a suit of armor, the soul can animate it.  On the other hand, if it's
just a metal coin, all the bound soul can do is see, hear, and talk."  

"Harry doesn't know how to do alchemy," noted Ron.  

"The coin I'm designing will do it all for him.  I'm including a self-contained
power source for the soul attachment, so all Harry has to do is throw it at
Voldemort's spirit body an the coin'll do the rest."  

"Is it dangerous?  What happens if one of us touches it on accident?"  

"Then it'll rip your soul out of your body, and then once it's contained in the
coin, another transmutation will strip away all knowledge, memories, and
personality from the bound soul, erasing who you are as thoroughly as I know
how to do.  That's why I wanted to explain about it in person, instead of
sending it through the mail."  

"Have I mentioned how scary you are sometimes?" asked Ron.  

                                     * * *


The Weasley patriarch, Arthur, had worked late at the Ministry of Magic that
first night, so I only saw him at breakfast the next day.  He was a thin,
balding man who seemed eager to meet Sloth and I.  

"I understand you're both muggleborns from outside Britain.  What are things
like where you're from?" asked Mr. Weasley.  

"It's called Amestris," I said.  "I'm from a small desert town on the
outskirts.  Sloth's from the capitol."  

"When we left," said Sloth, "the country was transitioning from a military
dictatorship to a civil democracy."  

"I hope that goes well," said Mr. Weasley.  "Tell me, do either of you know
anything about light bulbs?"  

We explained the design and function of electric lights, which led to questions
about electricity in general, which in turn led to questions about
infrastructure.  Arthur Weasley wore an excited look on his face as Sloth and I
went over the answers to some very basic scientific and social questions.  I
got the sense he'd been holding those sorts of questions in a long time.  

Over the course of the conversation, I learned Mr. Weasley's job was in the
Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office in the Ministry of Magic's Magical Law
Enforcement department.  He had a fascination with how people did things
without magic, a fascination his wife disapproved of.  It turned out most of
his job was protecting muggles from enchanted objects that ended up in their
hands.  

"How do you justify leaving the muggles helpless and ignorant?  Wouldn't your
job be easier of they knew to contact your office if their tea set started
attacking them instead of assuming they'd gone crazy?" I asked Mr. Weasley.  

"Our kind did try that," said Mr. Weasley, "living openly among the muggles. 
The International Statute of Secrecy, hiding our entire world from the muggles,
wasn't something we did lightly.  The statute protects both sides.  Wizards are
safe from muggles attacking us out of jealousy or trying to exploit us, and
muggles are protected from wizards who might otherwise use their powers to lord
over them."  

"Except wizards still do muggle baiting," I replied.  "Cursed muggle artifacts
keep turning up.  That doesn't seem so protected to me."  

"No, it doesn't," agreed Arthur Weasley with a sigh.  "By maintaining the
Statute of Secrecy, we have a responsibility to protect the muggles from our
own kind.  In fact, I'm sponsoring a new Muggle Protection act this year. 
We're also stepping up raids of known muggle baiters and persons of interest."
 

"That's enough politics," declared Fred.  "Save the speeches for the Ministry
that needs to hear them."  

"Really, if you get him going about muggle rights this early, he'll be ranting
till dinner," said George.  

"Fair enough," said Mr. Weasley with a chuckle.  Then he leaned across the
table conspiratorially, shooting a glance over to the other room where Mrs.
Weasley was helping Ginny write a letter to Harry.  "There's a project I've
been working on in the garage.  I've been fixing up an old muggle car.  Would
either of you like to take a look at it? See if I've got everything right?"  

"Go ahead," said George.  "The rest of us have chores anyway, and it'll make
dad happy."  

"We'd love to see what you've done," said Sloth.  

                                     * * *


In the garage, Arthur Weasley proudly showed off his car.  It was sleeker and
lower to the ground than I was used to.  I didn't much care for the style, but
as Mr. Weasley talked about the work he'd put into it, taking it apart and
putting it back together again, I had to admire his mechanical aptitude and his
resolve.  The way he talked about the machine reminded me of Winry Rockbell
gushing over automail.  

My first clue that something was odd about the car came when I opened the door
to look at the controls.  

"It's bigger on the inside," I said dumbstruck.  

"Oh, you noticed," said Arthur Weasley a bit sheepishly.  

"It's pretty obvious," said Sloth.  "How could we not notice the seats are over
twice as long as the car is wide?  Didn't you just get through telling us
enchanting muggle artifacts was illegal?"  

"Well, you see, there's a loophole in the law.  As long as the wizard never
intended to use it in an obviously magical manner in public...  Please, don't
say anything to Molly about this."  

"There's a spell to distort space like this?" I said, far more concerned with
the how than the why.  "So far, I haven't seen anything that didn't at least
operate on matter and energy."  

"Ah," said Arthur, happy to change the subject, "undetectable extension
charms.  NEWT level, so it isn't surprising you haven't run into them in class
yet."  

Even with the Philosopher's Stone, I had no idea where to even begi duplicating
this effect.  In fact, unless there turned out to be some muggle science or
magical theory I could put together, it looked like this was going to be
actually impossible to do with alchemy.  Powerful and skilled as I was, I saw
no way to duplicate something a wizard hobbyist threw together in his spare
time.  It was both frustrating and humbling.  

                                     * * *


Sloth and I stayed with the Weasleys for about a week.  We played regular games
of Quidditch that did more for my broomstick flying skills than all of last
year's lessons combined.  We didn't see much of Percy, who'd spent most of his
time sequestered in his room.  Between Ginny's endless questions about Harry
and Arthur's about how muggle items and institutions worked, there was never a
lack of conversation.  

We still hadn't heard anything from Harry by the time Sloth and I left, and Ron
promised to keep trying to reach him and let us know.  My time spent at the
Burrow was enjoyable and fulfilling.  They were good people who seemed happy to
have us.  But by the end of our time there, the friendly acceptance started to
wear on me, given that Ron was the only one who knew that not only were we not
human, but we also weren't magical either.  

Ron, for his part, assured us he'd be through chemical reconfiguration by the
start of school, and would be ready to learn elemental transmutation.  His
family could certainly use the money, and making gold wasn't illegal here.  

Once we were on our own again, I took Sloth out shopping in Diagon Alley. 
There, we bought four good invisibility cloaks and had two of them gift
wrapped.  Harry's cloak had been really useful last year, and making sure
everyone had their own would mean we wouldn't have to keep borrowing Harry's.  

Now that I knew it was a thing I could ask for thanks to Mr. Weasley, I got
Sloth and I satchels with undetectable extension charms cast on them.  When the
time came to leave this world, we'd be able to carry all our schoolbooks and
who knew what else of value we'd find, back in a couple of shoulder bags
instead of trying to figure out how to lug a trunk through the Gate.  

We also stopped off in a muggle shop and picked out a dozen pair of high
quality wool socks.  We were doing our best to fulfill the spirit of Ron's
vision from the Mirror of Erised.  Even if Dumbledore was lying about what he
saw, it only seemed polite to grant such a small request.  

"What do we do for Harry's Christmas shopping?" asked Sloth as  I shoved the
wrapped bundle of socks into my bag.  

"I'm not sure," I admitted.  "The cloaks made the other two easy."  

"We do have some time," said Sloth.  "I'm sure he'll like his birthday gift in
the meantime.  Did you finish it?"  

"All the design work's done," I replied.  "I just didn't think it wise to start
drawing blood seals in the Burrow."  

"Good point.  You are making some for us in case we have to fight Voldemort
again, right?"  

"Of course.  And I've been thinking.  With his memories, thoughts, and
personality stripped out, we could attach the blank soul to your body.  I can
even add a third function to the array to automatically perform the soul
attachment when you press the coin to your oroboros mark."  

"Gave up on making a soul from scratch?" asked Sloth with a smirk.  

"Alchemy isn't an all powerful science," I replied sincerely.  "There are some
things it just can't do.  But even if it is possible, this is a solution that
will work right now."  

"I'm not complaining," said Sloth.  "Voldemort's exactly the sort of person who
deserves to have his soul rendered down to raw materials.  I still can't get
over that this world has actual dark lords.  I thought those were only real in
children's books."  

"We're traveling an infinite multiverse," I reminded her.  "We're bound to run
into some strange things."  

"Do you think I'll be able to do magic with his soul?" asked Sloth.  

"I wish I knew.  All the books are really vague about what makes the difference
between witches and muggles.  It's somehow inborn, and if I can figure out how,
we'll see about getting that spark for ourselves."  

                                     * * *


Sloth and I kept in touch with Ron and Hermione through letters, but Harry
wasn't writing back no matter how many we sent.  Eventually, Ron sent word that
he thought Harry was in trouble.  A spell had gone off at Harry's house, and
the Ministry had sent out a warning letter.  This combined with the lack of
communication, and Ron was preparing to stage a rescue.  

I had no idea how long it had taken Ron's elderly owl to deliver us word, but I
quickly dashed off a note saying, "We're in.  What do you need?" and sent the
owl off.  

If Voldemort had found Harry, it might already be too late.  I made sure the
arrays on my wand and shoes were up to date and Sloth got us a car so we could
respond quickly once Ron gave us the details.  Loki sensed nervousness as we
waited to hear back, and he shoved his head into our hands whenever we looked
the most like we needed a dog.  

"There he is!" said Sloth staring out the window.  She pointed her wand and
pulled the letter out of the owl's claw with a faintly glowing crimson aura of
transmuted air.  She caught thee letter and flipped it open in one motion.  On
her toes, ready to run out the door, she quickly read the letter.  

"It's not from Ron.  It looks like our Hogwarts letters."  

"Why do wizards have to use owls?" I snapped.  "If we'd been able to coordinate
this by phone, we'd know already."  

By mid afternoon, Ron's owl actually arrived, bearing the news that Harry was
safe with the Weasleys and that we should meet up with them and Hermione when
we visited Diagon Alley to get our school supplies.  Both Sloth and I breathed
a sigh of relief, then fed and rested the overworked owl before sending our
reply.  

                                     * * *


On the appointed day, Sloth and I hauled another wheelbarrow of transmuted gold
each to Gringotts early in the morning.  With the resulting galleons added to
the ever growing pile of coins in our vault, and more than enough to handle our
school shopping in our bags, the two of us left the bank and took the twelve
year old forms we'd be wearing this year.  Unsure where precisely to meet the
others, Sloth and I waited on the high steps of Gringotts scanning the crowd.  

Eventually, I caught sight of Hermione.  She was with an adult couple in muggle
dress, presumably her parents.  They looked very out of their element.  

"Hermione!" I called out waving.  

"Greed!  Sloth!" she called back and pulled her parents along behind her.  "Oh,
it's wonderful to see you two again."  

Loki let out a "whuff" of greeting, causing the older Grangers to jump as
though they'd never seen a dog before.  

"I'm sorry, you three," Hermione corrected herself as she knelt down to pet
Loki.  

"Will you be alright out here?" asked Hermione's mother, glancing around
nervously.  

"I'll be fine.  I still have to see Ron and Harry," she replied.  

"How have you been?" asked Sloth.  

"I spent the summer traveling with my parents," said Hermione.  

"Look, Hagrid," I said, noticing the gigantic groundskeeper standing had and
shoulders above the rest of the crowded street.  "And I think he's got Harry
with him."  

We waved and called out, the two of them quickly noticing us and heading our
way.  The four of us ran down the steps to meet them halfway.  Harry looked to
be in bad shape.  His glasses were broken, and being held on his face with one
hand.  Whatever had broken them apparently also did a number on his nose, which
was bruised.  He was covered in soot, though Hagrid had made some attempt to
brush him off.  

"Are you okay?" I asked.  "What happened to you?"  

"I took a bad trip by floo," he explained.  

"Are you coming into Gringotts, Harry?" asked Hermione.  

"As soon as I've found the Weasleys," he replied.  

"You won't have to wait long," said Hagrid, directing our attention to where
Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Mr. Weasley were running through the crowd to get
to us.  

Mr. Weasley spoke first, panting from the exertion.  "Harry, we hoped you'd
only gone one grate too far.  Molly's frantic.  She's coming now."  

"Where'd you come out?" asked Ron.  

"Knockturn Alley," replied Hagrid in a disapproving tone.  

"Excellent!" declared Fred and George in unison.  

"We've never been allowed in," explained Ron.  

"I should ruddy well think not," declared Hagrid.  

Mrs. Weasley arrived on the scene, dragging Ginny by the arm.  "Oh, Harry.  Oh
my dear.  You could have been anywhere."  

Molly Weasley took a brush from her bag and got the soot off Harry while Arthur
Weasley magically repaired Harry's glasses.  Hagrid excused himself, eventually
escaping Arthur Weasley's grateful handshakes.  

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" asked Harry as we entered the bank. 
"Malfoy and his father."  

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" asked Mr. Weasley.  

"No.  He was selling," said Harry.  

"So, he's worried," mused Mr. Weasley.  "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for
something."  

"What's Borgin and Burkes?" I asked, having trouble following the conversation.
 

"A pawn shop specializing in dark artifacts," said Arthur Weasley.  

"You be careful, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley.  "That family's trouble.  Don't go
biting off more than you can chew."  

"So, you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" asked Mr. Weasley.  The
argument was forestalled by Arthur Weasley noticing the Grangers standing
nervously at a counter.  

Harry and the Weasleys went down to their vaults while Sloth, Loki, and I
waited up top with Hermione and her parents.  When they returned, the plan was
to split up and meet back at the bookstore in an hour.   Harry, Ron, Hermione,
Sloth, Loki, and I headed off together.  

"What happened to you this summer?" I asked Harry when we were alone.  "Ron
sent us an owl saying he had to go and rescue you."  

Harry explained that a house elf named Dobby had shown up at his house to
deliver a cryptic warning.  When Harry'd refused to stay away from Hogwarts,
Dobby had used magic to get Harry in trouble with both the Ministry and with
his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys.  In retaliation, the Dursleys had locked him
in his room, with bars on the windows for three days, pushing insufficient food
through a door slot, until Ron, Fred, and George had rescued him.  Dobby was
apparently the one intercepting our letters.  

"Those monsters," I declared when Harry had finished his story, my voice
shaking.  "Child abusing psychopaths.  They're not getting away with this."  

"Solitary confinement for messing up a party?" said Sloth appalled.  "You're
not going back to those people."  

"I appreciate the sentiment," said Harry, "but can we not talk about the
Dursleys?  I'm back in the wizarding world where I belong, and I want to enjoy
it."  

"Sure," I said, making a mental note to stick close to Harry on the Hogwarts
express at the end of the school year.  "That reminds me, we have a birthday
present for you."  

Over an ice cream, I showed Harry the small metal disc I'd designed and
explained its use.  One side had a seal drawn in dried blood.  The other had a
transmutation circle with a small red stone fragment in its center.  Hopefully,
the next time Voldemort went after Harry, it would be the last time.  

                                     * * *


Flourish and Blotts was the name of the bookstore we agreed to meet at.  It was
more crowded than I'd ever seen it.  Apparently there was a book signing.  

Hermione squealed in glee at the identity of the signer.  "We can actually meet
him!  I mean, he's written almost the whole book list!"  

We picked up our books and got in line with the Grangers and Weasleys.  

"Oh, there you are," said Mrs. Weasley on sighting us.  "Good.  We'll be able
to see him in a minute."  

"Wait, this is the signing line, not the checkout line?" I asked.  

"Just get your copies signed, Greed.  What harm could it do?" said Sloth. 
"It's nt like we had more plans today.  Besides, when else are we going to meet
Gilderoy Lockheart?"  

"I just wanted to pay and get out of this crowd.  Maybe start reading my new
books," I pouted.  

Lockheart had blue eyes, wavy blonde hair, and the brightest, whitest teeth I'd
ever seen.  When a newspaper photographer stepped on Ron's foot eliciting an
angry comment, Gilderoy Lockheart looked over at us.  

"It can't be Harry Potter!"  He grabbed Harry and pulled him to the center of
the crowd.  My hand was on my wand and it was halfway out of its holster before
I realized he didn't mean Harry any harm.  

"Ladies and Gentlemen," called out Lockheart, pinning an uncomfortable looking
Harry to his side, "what an extraordinary moment this is!  The perfect moment
for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time.  When
young Harry here stepped into Florish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy
my autobiography, (which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge). 
He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book,
Magical Me.  He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical
me.  Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing
that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark
Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"  

By the time Harry'd broken free, he was loaded down with the complete collected
works of Gilderoy Lockheart, which he promptly handed over to Ginny Weasley,
since they needed free books more than he did.  

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" spat Draco Malfoy.  "Famous Harry
Potter.  Can't even go into a book shop without making the front page."  

"Leave him alone!  He didn't want all that!" said Ginny.  

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend," taunted Malfoy.  

"Jealous, Draco?" I asked when the rest of us managed to squeeze through the
crowd to where Harry was.  

"I thought I'd find you here," sneered Malfoy.  "That mutt of yours is running
loose outside.  If you aren't careful, someone's going to decide it's a danger
that needs to be put down."  

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking down his nose at Malfoy.  "Bet you're
surprised to see Harry here, eh?"  

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley.  I suppose your
parents will have to go hungry for a month to pay for all those."  

Ron lunged at Draco, and I prepared to back him up when Harry and Hermione held
Ron back.  I clenched my fist and let it go, but if I found out he'd done
anything to Loki, I'd have to choose between testing my new soul coins,
rendering his life force into Philosopher's Stone material, or just breaking
his body down molecule by molecule.  Until he tried something like that though,
Draco wasn't worth it.  

Arthur Weasley made his way over to us.  "Ron, what are you doing?  It's too
crowded in here.  Let's go outside."  

"Well, well, well.  Arthur Weasley," said a tall man with straight blonde hair
and pale blue eyes like Draco's.  

"Lucius," said Arthur, nodding curtly.  

"Busy time at the Ministry I hear.  All those raids.  I do hope they're paying
you overtime?"  He pulled a battered, secondhand introductory transfiguration
textbook from Ginny's cauldron and inspected it.  "Obviously not.  Dear me,
what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay
you well for it?"  

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,"
shot back Mr. Weasley.  

"Clearly.  The company you keep, Weasley.  And I thought your family could sink
no lower," said Lucius Malfoy, eyeing the Grangers menacingly.  

Arthur hurled himself bodily at Lucius.  Books rained down on the pair as they
battered each other.  Hagrid happened by and broke the two men up to
disappointment of Fred and George who'd been cheering their father on.  

"Here girl.  Take your book.  It's the best your father can give you," said
Lucius, thrusting the transfiguration book back into Ginny's hands and exiting
the shop.  Draco trailed after.  

Hagrid helped Mr. Weasley straighten his robes and said, "You should have
ignored him, Arthur.  Rotten to the core, the whole family, everyone knows
that.  No Malfoy's worth listening to.  Bad blood, that's what it is.  Come on
now.  Let's get out of here."  

"There's no such thing as 'bad blood'," I said as we exited the shop. 
"Everyone's responsible for their own behavior.  Don't excuse them with 'bad
blood' and don't insult good people who had shitty parents with 'bad blood'."  

"Watch your language!" snapped Mrs. Weasley, swatting me across the back of the
head as Hagrid looked abashed at my admonishment.  "And you, a fine example to
set for the children, brawling in public.  What Gilderoy Lockheart must've
thought."  

"He was pleased," reported Fred.  "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving?  He
was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight
into his report. Said it was all publicity."  

The group made its way to the Leaky Cauldron.  Harry and the Weasleys
demonstrated the use of Floo Powder by taking a pinch and tossing it into a
fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron.  They each called out "the Burrow," and
vanished amid green flames.  The Grangers left by the main entrance to muggle
London.  Meanwhile, I turned around with Sloth and Loki to buy my own jar of
Floo Powder to try out.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Harry not talking about his home life in school during book one meant that no
one realized the problem with letting him go back.  The treatment he got during
the summer is pretty much impossible to ignore.  It won't be as easy to resolve
Harry's home life as anyone thinks, but the first step is finding out there's a
problem. 
***** Wands and Unicorns and Thestrals *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 15) Wands and Unicorns and
Thestrals
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


By the time we were heading for Platform 9 3/4, I'd verified that Floo Powder
only worked in wizard fireplaces.  Rather than having power in itself, it
worked as a trigger for a kind of magical transportation infrastructure that
linked wizard fireplaces, overseen by the Ministry of Magic.  

We got to the platform early and were able to stake out a compartment as soon
as the train started boarding.  Hermione found us shortly after that and we
settled in to wait for Harry and Ron.  By the time the train lurched into
motion, however, neither of them had come.  

"Did they find a different compartment?" asked Sloth.  

"We'd better make sure," I said.  "Harry's got enemies, and that house elf was
giving him dire warnings about not coming back to Hogwarts this year."  

"We'd best split up," said Hermione, hopping to her feet.  

Sloth and Hermione went one way while Loki and I went the other.  I found Percy
in with the other Prefects and asked if he'd seen Harry or Ron.  

"Not since we crossed the barrier," he said.  "They were right behind us, but
we were all running late, so as soon as we were through, we had to run to catch
the train.  Fred and George made it.  So did Ginny.  But I haven't seen Ron or
Harry."  

"So they missed the train?" I asked.  

"I'm sure everything's all right.  We can send an owl to mom and dad when we
get to Hogwarts."  

I went to find the others, cursing the poor communication infrastructure of the
wizarding world and desperately missing the radio equipped Amestrian trains. 
Sloth and Hermione had found the twins, who told basically the same story.  

Worried, we returned to our compartment only to find Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle
had claimed it while we were out searching.  I didn't have the motivation to
fight this one, so left to find another compartment to worry about Ron and
Harry in during the ride.  Unable to find privacy, we kept our speculation to a
minimum as the hours passed and the train eventually reached Hogwarts.  

While Hagrid led the first years down to the boats, the rest of us were loaded
into carriages pulled by emaciated horse-like creatures with leathery, bat like
wings folded at their sides.  We rode up to the main gates and were allowed
straight into the Great Hall where we were forced to separate and go to our own
House tables for the start of term feast.  

Promising myself I'd ask after Harry first chance I got, I settled in for the
sorting ceremony, cheering for the new Ravenclaw first years.  Luna Lovegood, a
blonde haired young witch with a vaguely distracted expression on her face sat
down next to me after the Sorting Hat put her in Ravenclaw.  

"I know we can't start Care of Magical Creatures until third year, but does
anyone know what those horses that pull the carriages are called?" she asked
when the Sorting Ceremony had passed and Snape pulled Dumbledore and McGonagall
away for a moment.  

"The carriages are spelled," said Michael Corner.  "They move on their own."  

"What are you talking about, Michael?" I asked.  "There was a pair of emaciated
horse-like creatures pulling every carriage.  How could you not have noticed
them there?"  

"Don't go making up stories for the first years, Greed," said a fifth year
prefect.  "Just because her eyes were playing tricks on her doesn't mean you
get to have a laugh at her expense."  

"My eyes weren't playing tricks," said Luna firmly.  "Although if none of you
saw them, maybe they were invisible."  

"But if they were invisible, how did we see them?" I asked.  

"I don't know.  That's why I wanted to know what they were called.  It'd make
looking them up easier."  

After Dumbledore and Snape arrived back, rumors started to spread that Harry
and Ron had arrived in a flying car.  Apparently Mr. Weasley added more
technically legal features that would upset his wife than just the added space
in the passenger compartment and trunk.  I breathed a sigh of relief that
nothing had happened to them, and was able to actually enjoy desert before it
was time to go up to our dorms.  

As we went, I told Luna, "I know the groundskeeper.  He'll know the name of
those horses."  

Sloth and I met with Harry, Ron, and Hermione the next day, where we verified
that they had indeed flown the car to Hogwarts, and nearly gotten expelled for
it.  Apparently, the barrier wouldn't let them through.  They'd crashed into a
whomping willow tree, which they advised we avoid approaching, since it had a
tendency to hit back.  Ron's wand had been damaged in the collision with the
ornery tree, but he'd taped it back together.  

At breakfast, Ron got a letter from home.  Ordinarily, I didn't see any mail
from the other houses while sitting at the Ravenclaw table, but this letter
contained a magically amplified version of Molly Weasley's voice screaming at
the top of her lungs.  She yelled at Ron for stealing the car, and noted that
her husband was facing an inquiry at work as a result of their trip.  

That excitement over, I promised Luna I'd introduce her to Hagrid come the
weekend and hurried off to my first class of the term.  Defence Against the
Dark Arts with Gilderoy Lockheart.  

Lockheart introduced himself and handed out a quiz.  Bizarrely, all the
questions were random trivia about himself rather than anything that would
assess our knowledge of defense as we started second year.  Fortunately, I'd
assimilated this year's text books with a red stone and could provide the
answers.  

"I see Mr. Oren's been paying attention," said Gildero Lockheart.  "Where is
the young man who remembered that I state in chapter twelve of Wanderings With
Werewolves that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and
nonmagic peoples, and that I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old
Firewisky?"  

I tentatively raised my hand, still unsure of the point of this exercise.  

"Excellent," he declared.  "Full marks!  Ten points for Ravenclaw."  

Lockheart then took a large, covered cage from behind his desk and said, "Be
warned.  It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to
wizardkind.  You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. 
Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here.  All I ask is that you
remain calm.  I must as you not to scream.  It might provoke them."  

He pulled off the cover revealing that the cage was full of small, bright blue,
humanoid creatures, each less than a foot tall.  "Yes," said Lockheart,
"freshly caught Cornish pixies."  

The quiz, the dramatic pronouncement about facing our worst nightmares, and now
these pixies.  I laughed as I came to the conclusion it had all been a
practical joke to lighten the mood of our first defense class after a full term
under Voldemort.  

"Yes," asked Lockheart smiling.  

"I don't think anyone in here has pixies as their worst fear," I noted
jovially.  

"Don't be so sure," replied Lockheart.  "Devilish, tricky little blighters they
can be.  Right then, let's see what you make of them."  

Lockheart opened the cage, and a dozen of the pixies launched out of their cage
in every direction.  I was on my feet at once, wand in hand and a smile
plastered on my face.  These fast moving creatures would be great for target
practice, and I'd missed using my alchemy in combat.  After last year, I had
enough incantations to fake it.  

"Petrificus Totalus!" I shouted, pointing my wand at the nearest pixie.  I
hadn't studied its anatomy to tamper with its muscles or nervous system, so I
just held it in place with a skintight aura of transmuted air.  "Wingardium
Leviosa!" I called out, casually flicking my wand in the direction of the cage
and causing the pixie to fly right back into it as fast as it'd flown out.  

My fellow Ravenclaws weren't doing so well.  One girl was screaming while a
pixie was entangled in her hair.  A pair of pixies were taking turns tearing
pages out of another student's books.  I was the only one who even had his wand
out.  The others were either taking cover under their desks, batting at the
pixies with their bare hands, or in one case, using a book to knock a pixie out
of the air.  

I plucked the pixie out of the girl's hair and tossed it back in its cage with
my left hand while I paralyzed and levitated two more back in.  The student
who'd stunned one with a book tossed his defeated foe in after mine.  A pixie
came out of nowhere and grabbed the back of my collar, lifting  me off my feet
before the aforementioned book slammed hard into my back, incapacitating that
pixie.  With a nod, we went back to back and continued thinning out the swarm
until they'd all been recaptured.  

"Not bad for a first attempt," said Lockheart.  "I hope you all see what can be
accomplished by carefully reading my books."  He clapped a hand on my shoulder.
 

"They make for a good bludgeon too," I said, nodding to the combatant who'd
watched my back.  

                                     * * *


This year in Herbology, we were working with mandrakes.  The plants' roots took
on a very human appearance, and they screamed when uprooted.  The seedlings we
were repotting could knock a person out for hours with their screams, while a
mature plant's scream would be instantly fatal.  As a safety precaution,
Professor Sprout provided earmuffs.  They must've had a minor enchantment on
them, since, while wearing them, I could make out no sound whatsoever.  

Professor McGonagall was easing everyone back into classwork with a simple
beetles to buttons transfiguration.  It was still a violation of equivalent
exchange that used up r ed stones, but it was far less a violation than the
mouse to snuffbox that had been last year's exam.  

"Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" asked the brass eagle knocker that
barred entrance to Ravenclaw tower when the day was over.  

"The egg," I said confidently.  "Fossil records of eggs go back millions of
years before the first chicken."  

The door didn't open.  I sat outside the door fuming as I awaited another
student to answer the door and get us inside.  

"I already tried egg," I told the next student to arrive.  "This thing must've
been enchanted before modern evolutionary theory."  

Shrugging, she said, "Chicken."  

Again, the door didn't open.  

"So, you don't want either answer?" I yelled at the door knocker.  "Why even
give choices if you don't want either one?  Is this some sort of stupid
wordplay where we're supposed t o answer 'which' since it was the first word in
your sentence?  That isn't a riddle, and it isn't clever!  Not that asking a
basic chronological question with a factual answer (which you don't accept)
qualifies as a riddle either!  Hermione said wizards were bad at logic, and
that must double for whoever enchanted you!"  

"I'll just go find a prefect," said the student, backing away slowly from my
rant.  

"It's not like they give the prefects an answer key," I said as she quickly
left the scene.  

Loki stared between me and the formerly neutral talking door knocker.  He
seemed to be trying to decide between comforting me and attacking the door that
had upset me.  He was such a good dog, and I told him so, sitting down on the
stairs and ruffling Loki's floppy brown ears with both hands.  

"I could just blast a hole in it and go to bed," I mused when I'd calmed down,
"or just mimic Sloth's powers with alchemy and pass through a wall.  But at
this point, I just have to see how this plays out and what the answer it's
looking for is."  

"Oh," said the prefect when he had heard the riddle.  "You got stumped by a
classic paradox.  There is no answer.  The egg births the chicken, and the
chicken births the egg. It's a cycle with no beginning or end."  

The door swung open.  

"But there is an answer," I protested as I entered the common room.  "Egg
laying creatures have been around way longer than chickens have."  

"You're overthinking it," said the prefect, who headed up to his dorm.  

"Why does a house that's supposed to be full of clever people not use a simple
password system like the Gryffindors use?" I asked Loki with a frustrated sigh
as I sat down to do my homework.  

                                     * * *


At lunch on Friday, Ron came up to me at the Ravenclaw table.  

"You have to help me," he pleaded.  "I really messed up this time."  

I immediately stood up and followed him out of the Great Hall, taking a large
handful of turkey slices with me for Loki, who did still need to eat after
all.  We found an empty classroom and Ron held up his wand.  

"It broke when we crashed into the whomping willow," he explained.  "I held it
together with some spellotape, but it's been getting worse.  This morning, I
lost control of it and it beaned Professor Flitwick in the face."  

I looked at the wood.  There was no tape, and I couldn't detect so much as a
crack in it.  At that point, I knew why he'd come to me.  

"You tried fixing it with alchemy," I said.  "What went wrong?"  

"I thought I did everything right.  Here, I brought the circle I used.  But
after it was done, I couldn't do any magic with it at all.  It doesn't even
spark and backfire.  It's like it's just a stick."  

"I can't be sure," I said, examining the paper he handed me, "but do you
remember practicing curses with me and Sloth last year.  I learned that magic
doesn't really stick to a person or object that's been deconstructed and
reduced to its component atoms.  I think when you deconstructed your wand in
the process of repairing it, the magic stopped sticking to it."  

"You mean I killed my wand?" asked Ron, staring at the seemingly intact shaft
of wood.  

"Looks like," I confirmed.  "Like with bioalchemy, if you don't fully
understand and account for all the mutually interdependent systems, you're not
likely to end up with a living thing after the transmutation."  

"You can do bioalchemy," said Ron, pointing to Loki.  "Can you fix it?"  

"I don't understand how a wand is supposed to work.  Not well enough to
stimulate the magic using alchemy.  You need a new wand."  

"If I write home, I'll get another Howler," complained Ron.  

"We could try to make you a new wand the conventional way," I suggested. 
"There are unicorns in the forbidden forest, and a lot of wood, obviously."  

"You can do that?" asked Ron, skeptically.  

"No idea," I admitted.  "As I understand it, you encase a bit of magical
material inside a wooden shaft and you've got a wand.  Unicorn hair was one of
Ollivander's three choice materials to work with.  I'd like to try, anyway."  

"Couldn't I just do what you do and fake it with alchemy?"  

"I'm a master alchemist," I said.  "And even with everything I know, I still
need amplifiers for some spells, and that's just for the ones I've already
figured out how to duplicate.  You aren't ready for that.  Besides, why would
you want to fake it when you can do the real thing?"  

"Whatever we're going to do, can we do it soon?" asked Ron.  "I don't fancy
taking this into a class knowing nothing'll happen when I go to use it."  

"Meet me outside the fat lady's portrait tonight," I told him.  "With luck,
you'll have a new wand by morning."  

                                     * * *


That evening, I pulled my new invisibility cloak out of my trunk.  Slipping it
over my shoulders and pulling the hood over my head, I disappeared from view. 
I creeped down the stairs, the transmutation circles on the soles of my shoes
ensuring that I neither made a sound, nor left footprints.  Luna was sitting in
an armchair by the fire, reading a magazine.  I didn't breathe as I crossed the
room.  

When I opened the door, Luna said, "It's after curfew, you know.  If you go out
and get caught, we'll lose house points."  

I pulled back my hood.  It didn't matter if I was invisible when I left.  She'd
be able to figure out who had left by process of elimination when I'd gone.  

"You're up late," I said.  

"I didn't get a chance to finish reading my article earlier.  The others were
playing keep away with the magazine."  

"I went to bed early to fake being asleep," I said.  "If I'd been down here,
I'd have made them knock it off."  

"Where are you going?" asked Luna.  

"Can you keep a secret?"  

"Of course I can," she said cheerfully.  "Whether I will depends on what the
secret is."  

"Fair enough," I said sitting down across from her.  "If I tell you, will you
tell me if it's a secret you're willing to keep, then?  That way, if you decide
not to keep it, I can just decide not to go."  

Luna thought about that for a long moment, tapping her upper lip with a finger,
then she closed her magazine, set it on a table and nodded.  "I think that's
fair."  She stared at me expectantly.  

"I'm going to the forbidden forest."  

"There are supposed to be all sorts of magical creatures in there," she said. 
"Werewolves, centaurs, unicorns, maybe even a crumple horned snorkrak."  She
sounded excited.  

"I'm going to track down a unicorn.  I'm doing some magical experiments and I
need a tail hair from one," I explained.  

"Well, then it's a good thing I caught you," she said.  

"What do you mean?"  

"Unicorns don't like boys very much.  You'd never get close enough if I wasn't
coming along."  She got to her feet.  

"You have to keep this secret," I said.  "I'm meeting someone and he could end
up in worse trouble than us if he gets caught."  

Luna nodded her agreement, I pulled the invisibility cloak over both of us, and
we walked out of Ravenclaw tower together.  

Ron was waiting just outside the portrait of the fat lady who guarded
Gryffindor tower.  He jumped with surprise when my and Luna's faces appeared
out of thin air in front of him.  

"You've got an invisibility cloak too?" asked Ron.  

"I'm a master alchemist who can make gold," I reminded him.  "I can buy pretty
much anything I want."  

"Hello," said Luna.  

"Who's this?" asked Ron.  

"Luna Lovegood, Ron Weasley," I introduced them.  "Luna's a Ravenclaw first
year who volunteered to help us get a unicorn hair."  

"What was your plan for getting close to the unicorn without a girl?" asked
Luna.  

"Let's can the chatter until we're in the forest," I said.  "We don't want
Filch to catch us out of bed."  

Ron quickly got under the cloak with us, and we creeped out of the castle,
along the path Filch had taken me for my detention last year.  It was pitch
dark, and we didn't dare light a lamp, so I shifted to my pale skinned, black
haired homunculus form.  The purple slitted eyes had better night vision.  We
paused at Hagrid's hut and listened.  A loud snore told us the enormous
groundskeeper wasn't out patrolling the forest, so we could do our task
unmolested.  

"Harry, Hermione, and me are going to visit Hagrid tomorrow," said Ron.  

"You should come along, Luna," I said.  "We can ask him about the horse
creatures."  

"Horse creatures?" asked Ron.  

"The ones pulling the school carriages," I said.  "Hagrid should know what
they're called."  

The three of us stepped onto the path, picked a direction, and began walking. 
Voldemort had caught and killed two unicorns the previous year, and I was sure
we'd find one of the brilliantly white creatures without too much trouble.  

"Stay close and under the cloak," I cautioned.  "The centaurs are on good terms
with Hagrid, so even if he is asleep, word might get back to him."  

"Hagrid wouldn't get us in trouble," said Ron.  

"Not deliberately," I said, "but he doesn't exactly know how to keep a secret."
 

"Fair enough," said Ron.  

Three hours later, Ron was convinced we should turn back, while Luna was
excitedly encouraging us to continue the search.  We'd already had two close
calls with the centaurs by then.  Finally, our persistence paid off, and the
three of us beheld the sight of a brilliantly white furred horse with golden
hooves and a single straight horn projecting from its forehead.  It was as
though the moon was shining down tonight for the sole purpose of illuminating
this creature's beauty and grace.  

"You're on," I prodded Luna from beneath the invisibility cloak.  She stepped
into view, a pair of metal sheers in her hand.  

"You're beautiful," Luna told the unicorn as she approached.  Meanwhile, I
steeled myself to kill it if it proved threatening to Luna.  Fortunately, such
preparation proved unnecessary.  

Luna reached out a hand and stroked the creature's nose.  Running her hand
along the unicorn's flank, the unicorn showed no sign of objecting to her
touch.  The unicorn allowed Luna to run her fingers through the long silvery
strands of hair on its tail.  

"Don't worry.  This won't hurt a bit," she reassured the unicorn, then used the
sheers to clip the hairs off its tail.  

I pulled off the cloak, revealing myself and Ron.  The unicorn galloped off
into the forest.  Luna handed me the large handful of unicorn hairs.  

"What happened to you?" asked Ron, startled as he stared at me.  

I took a moment to remember I'd shifted forms for better night vision. 
"Nothing happened," I said, sighing at my own absentmindedness.  "Sloth and I
are shape shifters.  I took this form because it can see better in the dark."  

"Any other secrets you'd like to share?" asked Ron.  

"I'm competing with Hermione for top of the class because I'm really a good
deal older than I look, and I use my powers to look this age to fit in," I
offered with a shrug.  

"So, you're like a metamorphmagus," said Ron.  

"You didn't know?" marveled Luna.  

"You just found out too," shot back Ron.  

"I just though this must've been your plan before I came," said Luna.  

"Actually, I was just going to run one down," I said.  "I figured if Quirrell
could do it, so could I."  I clapped my hands and touched my index finger to a
nearby tree.  Pulling it back, a long, diamond hardened needle, not much
thicker than the unicorn hair followed my finger back amid blue sparks of
alchemic light until the transmutation ended and I caught the needle.  

"What was that?" asked Luna.  

"Alchemy," explained Ron.  "I'm learning it too."  

I threaded one of the unicorn hairs onto my new needle and found an
appropriately sized branch that was relatively straight.  "We've established
that alchemy damages the magic in a wand, so this part has to be done
manually."  I jammed the needle into one end of the stick and pushed it through
until it came out the opposite end.  I then used the needle to carefully thread
the unicorn hair into the core of the wand.  "Give it a try," I said, handing
the wand to Ron.  

He accepted it and pointed it up.  A handful of red sparks flew out of the
tip.  "It feels funny, but it works," said Ron, sighing with relief.  

I was beaming.  I'd successfully made a working magic wand.  I could add this
to the list of magical skills I could actually practice, and wouldn't have to
duplicate with alchemy.  "Field trip's over," I said happily.  "Everyone back
under the invisibility cloak."  

We quickly gathered together and made our way back to Hogwarts.  Luna and I
dropped Ron off at Gryffindor tower and returned to our own house common room
together.  

"Do you do that often?" asked Luna when we were back.  

"It depends on what's going on," I said.  "Last year was pretty eventful."  

"You should turn back to normal now," she reminded me.  

I shifted back to my human appearance, bid her goodnight, and climbed the
stairs to find Loki asleep at the foot of my bed, with the cloth dummy I'd
transmuted from the bed sheets undisturbed.  I changed the dummy back, put away
my invisibility cloak, and climbed into bed myself, feeling very accomplished.
 

                                     * * *


At breakfast, I introduced Luna around to Sloth and Hermione.  Ron showed us a
note Harry'd left indicating he had an unexpected Quidditch practice.  We
agreed to head out to the field and wait for him, since Harry was the closest
to Hagrid.  

At the field, we found an excitable Gryffindor first year named Collin waiting
in the stands with a camera.  He happily showed off a wizard photo of Professor
Locheart and what Collin assured me was Harry's arm, which Lockheart was
attempting to drag into frame.  

The Gryffindor Quidditch team emerged from the changing room, and Collin
started lining up his camera for a picture of Harry.  

"Aren't you finished yet?" asked Ron, impatiently as Harry came out holding his
broom.  

"Haven't even started," sighed Harry.  "Wood's been teaching us new moves."  

The Gryffindors had barely had time to take their first warmup lap when the
Slytherin team arrived on the field.  Draco Malfoy was wearing Quidditch
robes.  Our group left the stands to see what was going on while the Gryffindor
team landed to confront the Slytherins.  

Ron was the first to speak when we arrived.  "What's happening?  Why aren't you
playing?  And what's he doing here?"  

"I'm the new Slytherin seeker, Weasley," said Draco.  "Everyone's just been
admiring the brooms my father's bought our team.  Good, aren't they?  But
perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms
too.  You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives.  I expect a museum would bid
for them."  

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in.  They got in
on pure talent," shot Hermione.  

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood," spat Draco.  

Draco's comment provoked an extreme reaction from the Gryffindors.  Fred and
George lunged at him, but were held back by the Gryffindor captain Wood.  Ron's
face twisted with rage and he drew his new wand, pointing it at Draco as the
Slytherin team prepared to back up and defend Malfoy.  

"How dare you?  You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" yelled Ron.  Green light
seemed to build up, visibly leaking from the cracks in the wand wood.  Then,
Ron was enveloped in green light as his wand blasted itself into splinters in
his hand.  Ron fell backward onto the ground.  

Hermione rushed to him, calling out, "Ron, Ron, are you alright?"  

Ron sat up, staring at his empty wand hand.  A few splinters were embedded in
his palm, but he was otherwise uninjured.  Then his eyes bulged and he vomited
up a number of slugs.  

The backfired curse effectively ended any threat of immediate violence as the
Slytherins were utterly incapacitated with laughter.  Draco in particular
laughed so hard he collapsed to the ground and beat his fists on the grass.  

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's," said Harry.  "It's nearest."  He and
Hermione helped Ron to his feet as he continued to spit up large slugs.  

Sloth shooed off Colin, who was getting underfoot, and I apologized profusely
to Ron about the malfunctioning wand that had done this to him.  Luna just
quietly tagged along.

As we approached Hagrid's cabin, Harry caught sight of Professor Lockheart
exiting.  Harry immediately dove into a bush, pulling Ron with him and hissed,
"Quick, behind here!"  

"But maybe he can help Ron," I suggested, before Harry dragged me in, Sloth,
Luna, and Hermione having already hidden behind the bush at Harry's urging.  

Lockheart was loudly speaking with Hagrid.  "It's a simple matter if you know
what you're doing.  If you need help, you know where I am.  I'll let you have a
copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't got one.  I'll sign one and send it
over.  Well, goodbye."  

Harry waited until Lockheart was out of sight before letting us proceed to
Hagrid's.  By that time, Hagrid had gone inside and shut the door.  Harry's
knock summoned Hagrid instantly.  

"Been wondering when you'd come to see me.  Come in.  Come in.  Thought you
mighta been Professor Lockheart back again."  

We quickly explained what had happened to Ron as we got him inside.  Hagrid
gave Ron a large basin.  

"Better out than in.  Get 'em all up, Ron," said Hagrid, cheerfully.  

"I don't think there's anything we can do except wait for it to stop,"
concluded Hermione as she kept an eye on Ron.  "That's a difficult curse to
work at the best of times, but with a defective wand..."  

"I had no idea this could happen," I told Ron.  "I'll make it up to you.  I
promise.  We'll got to Diagon Alley and I'll buy you a new wand from
Ollivander's.  I am so sorry."  

Meanwhile, Hagrid made tea and Fang greeted Loki.  Both dogs were excited to
see one another again.  

Harry asked, "What did Lockheart want with you, Hagrid?"  

"Giving advice on getting keplies out of a well.  Like I don't know.  And
banging on about some banshee he banished.  If one word of it was true, I'll
eat my kettle."  

"I think you're being a bit unfair," said Hermione.  "Professor Dumbledore
obviously thought he was the best man for the job."  

"He was the only man for the job, and I mean the only one," said Hagrid,
offering us all fudge.  "Getting very difficult to find anyone for the dark
arts job.  People aren't too keen to take it on, see.  They're starting to
think it's jinxed.  No one's lasted long for a while now.  So tell me, who was
he trying to curse?"  He indicated Ron.  

"Malfoy," I said.  

"He called Hermione something," said Harry.  "It must've been really bad,
because everyone went wild."  

"It was bad," said Ron, gasping for breath.  The first words he'd managed since
the backfiring curse.  "Malfoy called her 'mudblood', Hagrid."  Then Ron puked
up the batch of slugs he'd had to hold in to get that much out.  

"He didn't?" said Hagrid angrily.  

"He did," said Luna, obviously no more pleased than Ron or Hagrid.  

"I don't know what it means," said Hermione.  "I could tell it was really rude,
of course."  

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," said Ron, fighting
down another slug attack.  "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is
muggle born.  You know, non-magic parents.  There are some wizards, like
Malfoy's family, who think they're better than everyone else because they're
what people call pure blood."  He belched up another slug and continued.  "I
mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all.  Look at
Neville Longbottom.  He's pure blood, and he can hardly stand a cauldron the
right way up."  

"And they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do," added Hagrid.  "And
you're muggleborn too, aren't you, Greed."  

I nodded.  

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," continued Ron.  "Dirty blood, see. 
Common blood.  It's ridiculous.  Most wizards these days are half blood
anyway.  If we hadn't married muggles, we'd've died out."  

Ron resumed vomiting slugs into the basin.  

Hagrid replied philosophically, "Well, I don't blame you for trying to curse
him, Ron, but maybe it was a good thing your wand backfired.  I expect Lucius
Malfoy would've come marching up to the school if you'd cursed his son.  Least
you're not in trouble."  

"True," said Sloth.  "Didn't Dumbledore threaten to expel you if you broke the
rules again?"  

Harry nodded.  

Taking advantage of the lull in conversation, Luna piped up.  "Hagrid, do you
know what the horse creatures that pull the school carriages are called?"  

"You can see them" he verified, slightly subdued.  

Luna nodded.  "But Hermione can't."  

"Well, I should ruddy well hope not," declared Hagrid.  "They're called
thestrals.  I take care of the school's herd.  And the reason some people can
see 'em and some people can't is they're only visible to people who've seen
death."  

"That explains Sloth and I," I said in a subdued tone.  

Harry nodded.  He'd been in the room when I killed Quirrell.  

"During the last war, there were lots of students that could see them," said
Hagrid.  "It's a sign of the times and a ruddy good one too, that most of the
students just think the carriages drive themselves."  

"Can we see them?" asked Luna.  

"I don't see why not," said Hagrid.  "They're real friendly."  

"Are you two going to be okay?" Sloth asked Ron and Hermione.  "I don't think
there'll be much for you to see."  

Ron gave a thumbs up and spat another batch of slugs into the basin.  Hagrid
led Sloth, Luna, Harry, and I outside and lured the thestrals in using a bucket
of what looked like pig's blood.  

"A lot of folks treat 'em like they're a bad omen, 'cause of the death thing
and how they look," said Hagrid approaching one, who let him stroke its
muzzle.  Up close, I could confirm their skeletal appearance was due to having
pale skin stretched tightly over a thin body.  Another testament to magical
creatures being tougher and stronger than physics and biology said they should
be, the threstrals' emaciated appearance didn't seem to leave them weaker or
slower than a normal horse.  

As I stroked the mane of one, Sloth said, "Better be careful, Ron's in bad
enough shape from unicorn hair."  

"You want to ride 'em?" offered Hagrid, clearly enjoying showing off the herd. 
"Not far, obviously, just a short up and down.  They're trained for it."  

Luna happily mounted immediately, while Harry hesitated for a long moment. 
Sloth and I each picked one, getting on in time for Harry to make his decision
and join us.  

"All right, hang on tight," said Hagrid.  Then to the thestrals, "Just a quick
flight along the tree line and back."  

Understanding, the thestrals spread their bat like wings and launched into the
air with surprising speed.  Loki ran along the ground under us for a few dozen
feet, but couldn't keep pace.  I doubted he could keep pace in his chimera
form.  Wind whipped through our hair.  Our robes flapped and billowed as we
shot through the air.  I could feel my spine compressed by g-forces as the
thestrals banked hard and turned back toward Hagrid's hut.  In no time, they
deposited us back on the ground.  

"That was faster than my racing broom," marveled Harry.  

"They're the fastest way to travel if you want to see any scenery at all," said
Hagrid happily.  

As we went back inside, Hagrid said, "Harry, got a bone to pick with you.  I've
heard you've been giving out signed photos.  How come I haven't got one?"  

"I have not been giving out signed photos," declared Harry, angrily.  "If
Lockheart's still spreading that around-"  

"I'm only joking," said Hagrid with a laugh.  "I knew you hadn't really.  I
told Lockheart you didn't need to.  You're more famous than him without
trying."  

"Bed he didn't like that," said Harry, grinning satisfied.  

"Don't think he did," said Hagrid slyly.  "And then I told him I'd never read
one of his books and he decided to go."  

We bid Hagrid goodbye at that point and headed back to the school for lunch. 
Ron's slug attacks were getting farther between, and the slugs he coughed up
were getting smaller.  As we entered, we were accosted by Professor McGonagall.
 

"There you are, Potter, Weasley.  You will do your detentions this evening."  

"What're we doing, Professor?" asked Ron.  

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch.  And no
magic, Weasley.  Elbow grease.  And you, Potter, will be helping Professor
Lockheart answer his fan mail."  

"Oh, n-" began Harry, suppressing himself, then more carefully, "Professor,
can't I go and do the trophy room too?"  

"Certainly not," said McGonagall with finality.  "Professor Lockheart requested
you particularly.  Eight o'clock sharp.  Both of you."  

After she'd gone, I told Ron, "At least that leaves us time to get your new
wand."  

                                     * * *


The Ravenclaw common room was empty when I brought Ron in.  The riddle asking
what spends all day on its feet before spending the night under the bed with
its tongue hanging out was answered with "shoe".  I told Loki to stay while I
retrieved the floo powder from my trunk.  

Ron took a pinch, threw it into the fire, and stepped into the green flames. 
Pausing to make sure he wasn't going to have another slug attack, he said,
"Diagon Alley," and vanished.  

I followed suit, and after a ride through the disorienting floo network,
emerged from a fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron.  Ron was already waiting for
me.  

"Why do we have the train if the floo network gets us there and back that
fast?" I asked Ron as we stepped into Diagon Alley.  

"It's mostly for the sake of the muggleborns," said Ron.  "Their parents
wouldn't know how to use floo powder, or be very happy if their kids stepped
into a fire and vanished for a year."  

"Good point," I acknowledged.  "Hermione's parents went pale when your family
flooed off."  

We stepped into Ollivander's wand shop together.  Ollivander was there, and he
smiled before sweeping across the shop to greet us.  

"Come to make another try and see if a wand chooses you?" he asked, staring at
me in a manner that was slightly unnerving.  

"No," I said.  "I put something together that's working for me.  I'm here about
Ron."  

"I don't believe I've seen you in my shop before," he said, transferring his
attention to Ron.  "A bit old to be seeking your first wand, aren't you?"  

"I've been using my brother Charlie's old wand until now," he said,
embarrassed.  "There was an accident and it broke."  

"For the best," said Ollivander in a clipped tone.  "Unicorn hair wands are
among the most loyal and consistent.  They almost never perform their best
magic for anyone but their first master.  Here, try this one."  

Ron took two tries before Ollivander found his match.  I paid and slipped out
before he could question me further about my fake wand.  We flooed back to the
Ravenclaw common room and I ushered Ron out before anyone caught him in there.
 

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Luna was introduced far too late in cannon.  She should, by all rights, be
utterly impossible to miss, even as oblivious as Harry tends to be sometimes. 
***** Romantic Interlude 14 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 16) Romantic Interlude 14
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 17.
***WARNING***
                                     * * *


"You've been leaving me out of things lately," said Sloth.  We'd gone down to
our lab under the Quidditch field to tend our crop of philosopher's flowers. 
"You took the new girl out to the forbidden forest and not me?"  

"I wasn't planning to take anyone but Ron," I said.  

"And that was a bad plan," said Sloth.  "Ron was on notice from Dumbledore, you
needed a girl, and there was no good reason Ron needed to be there anyway.  You
could've just given him the wand in the morning."  

"That's a good point," I said, sheepishly.  

"No, that's three good points," she corrected.  "Plus, I'm not really happy
about you running around with other girls behind my back."  A wry smile told me
that last bit was teasing.  

"The deal was, you weren't supposed to get involved with other guys," I teased
back.  "I don't recall agreeing not to get involved with other girls."  

"Then let's make it explicit," said Sloth in a sultry tone.  "You can have sex
with any girl you want..."  A wave of light raced over her body as she adopted
Luna Lovegood's appearance.  In Luna's voice, she finished, "...as long as that
girl is me."  She kissed me as I processed what she'd just said.  

"Wow," I said as our kiss ended.  "You've been thinking about this for a while,
haven't you?"  

"I had a whole scene worked out as Hermione," she admitted.  "I know you're
attracted to both of them."  

"You know I'm only ever kidding when I talk like I want anyone but you, right? 
I mean, I wouldn't ask you to be exclusive without being exclusive myself. 
That wouldn't be fair."  

"I know, Greed," said Sloth, still wearing Luna's appearance.  "You don't want
to share me, and I don't want to share you either.  That doesn't mean you don't
also want other girls.  It was a lot easier for you to hide when we weren't
around other young girls.  You think I'm hotter than Psiren because she's too
old for your tastes.  Am I right?"  

"Absolutely," I replied.  "That doesn't mean I'd want to throw away what we've
got by going after another girl, even if she was actually hot.  Besides,
they're like Nina.  I'm not sure any of them know much about sex anyway."  

Sloth smiled.  "I don't feel threatened by them, Greed, though that's sweet of
you to say anyway.  I just want to be able to satisfy your desires so high you
won't ever even want another girl when you've got me."  She then dropped her
robe on the ground, revealing Luna's beautiful, naked body.  

I placed a hand on her chest, and the other on her butt.  The build was a
little different and the tone likewise, but it certainly wasn't unpleasant
feeling her up.  She wantonly masturbated herself as I kissed her flat chest. 
Unwilling or unable to resist using her usual tricks, Sloth caused my robe to
pass through my body and drop to the floor, leaving my naked body equally
exposed.  

Laying Sloth down among the trays of Philosopher's Flowers, I ceased groping
her chest to draw her masturbating hand away from her vagina and up to my
lips.  I licked the fluids from her fingers as I pressed my erection into her. 
The shape of her fingers, the taste of her secretions, and the feel of her
tight, virginal vagina were all subtly different from what I was accustomed to,
making love to Sloth.  It was all exciting new territory, and I couldn't help
getting lost in the moment.  

Sloth moaned in pleasure as I penetrated deeper into her, and I muffled those
moans with a kiss.  Her body was reacting differently than usual, shifting in
ways that were slightly off as she explored her new body and found out how to
increase her pleasure in it.  She gripped my butt with both hands and pulled me
all the way inside her as her orgasm struck.  I could feel her vaginal
contractions squeezing all along the shaft of my penis, practically forcing me
to begin spurting semen inside the body of a girl I'd met less than a week
ago.  I let myself finish in a human time frame, and Sloth took the hint and
let her orgasm finish playing out shortly after I'd finished.  

Sweaty and with some gardening dirt on us from the floor of our gardening area,
we separated and rolled onto our backs, breathing heavily.  We turned our heads
to look one another in the eye and smiled.  Another successful experiment.  

"Stay right there," I said suddenly, jumping to my feet.  "I mean it, right
here, on the floor."  

Sloth smiled and nodded, leaning her head back.  I ran out and retrieved my
camera.  When I returned, Sloth was still breathing heavy, and letting herself
feel the exhausted afterglow.  Her fingers were absentmindedly touching her
crotch.  I took a few photographs of Sloth in Luna Lovegood's body, lying
exhausted, naked, and sexually satisfied on the floor of my garden.  

"I take it you enjoyed yourself," said Sloth, smiling up at me.  

"You said you had a scene worked out with Hermione?" I said, smiling back.  

In an instant, Sloth was on her feet, shifting herself into the form of the
brown haired Gryffindor, and dressed in the school's uniform robes.  "I did,"
she said in Hermione's voice.  "Get yourself cleaned up, dressed, and head over
to the part of the lab humans can be in safely."  

I complied, taking a seat at a desk in the main living area and setting down
the camera.  A moment later, Sloth dropped down through the ceiling wearing
Hermione's appearance.  Waving her red stone powered wand, she cushioned her
fall with a small whirlwind that had the side effect of blowing her curly hair
around and lifting her robes just enough to see her white socks went up to her
knees.  

"I found it, your secret lab!" announced Hermione's voice.  "My spell worked!"
 

"Hello," I said, blinking.  "It's a good thing you broke through the ceiling
here.  The next room over's full of toxic gas."  

"Are we alone?" she asked, holstering her wand.  

"I don't think there's a more isolated spot on the grounds," I noted.  

She nodded, then said, with a hint of desperation in her voice, "I can't take
it anymore.  I thought I could handle it, but Ron knowing something I don't is
eating at me.  Teach me alchemy.  Please, I'll do anything."  

I quirked an eyebrow.  She had been thinking about this scene.  "Anything?" I
asked, playing my part.  I took the camera off the desk.  

"Anything," she affirmed.  "Just tell me what to do."  

"Take off your robe," I instructed her.  

"What?" she asked, a shocked, scandalized expression on her face.  

I held up my camera.  "I want to take some pictures of you undressed.  You said
you'd do anything."  

Blushing and hesitating, she undid her robe, folded it, and set it aside. 
Under it, she was wearing nothing but her black, buckled shoes, knee high
socks, and a pair of white panties.  She covered her flat chest, crossing her
arms as she turned to face me.  

I took a couple of photos of her standing there like that, then told her, "Move
your hands.  What's the point of getting you undressed if you're still covering
up?"  

Blushing furiously and looking embarrassed and humiliated, I took pictures as
she moved her hands away from her chest and exposed her tiny, faint nipples.  

"Good, now touch yourself," I ordered.  

"What?" she said, her hands going back to cover her flat chest.  

"Take your hands away from your chest, and rub the fingers of one hand over
your crotch, over the fabric for now."  

She complied, each movement seeming an front to her dignity, but she complied. 
Finally, an involuntary shudder of pleasure ran through her body.  She looked
disgusted and ashamed of herself for enjoying this treatment.  

"That'll do," I said after I'd caught that look on film.  "You can stop now."  

She immediately pulled her hand away from her crotch and reached for her robe.
 

"I didn't say you could put that back on yet," I said, and she froze.  

"What else do I have to do before you teach me?" she asked, frustrated.  

"Just one more thing," I assured her.  Then I set my own robe aside, revealing
my erect penis.  She stared at it with a mix of disgust and fear.  "I want you
to get on your knees and suck on my dick until I cum in your mouth.  Swallow it
all up, and I'll teach you."  

She hesitated for a long time before coming to a decision.  "You're
disgusting.  I don't want to learn alchemy that bad."  She reached again for
her robe.  

"Then how about an alternate offer," I said, holding up the camera.  "You suck
my dick and the pictures I already took stay in my private collection.  Walk
away and the whole school gets to see what you look like posing topless." 
Again, she froze.  

"You bastard," she said, trowing her robe on the ground and angrily marching up
to me.  She dropped to her knees and stared at my penis, working up her nerve.
 

"I'll still honor our other deal," I said as she licked her lips hesitantly,
which I also got on film.  "Swallow all my cum and I'll teach you alchemy."  

She stared daggers at me, then opened her mouth.  Extending her tongue, she
wrapped her lips around the shaft of my penis.  She gagged a little as she did
so, but then focused and started sucking.  Her tongue ended up sliding against
the bottom of my penis as suction pulled it deeper inside her mouth.  She
started to pull her head back, and I put a hand on the back of her head and
forced her down, taking a few pictures with the other hand.  

She kept sucking, and I held her head down far enough that I was only just not
hitting the back of her throat.  Due to our relatively even sizes, she was
stimulating most of my penis with her mouth the entire time.  I didn't give her
any warning when I started t cum, and she choked on the first spurt.  I held
her head down and she quickly realized it was swallow quickly or drown.  

The motion of her tongue as she swallowed my semen encouraged me to keep
spurting more into her small mouth.  I used my regeneration powers to prolong
my orgasm as she continued to swallow my ejaculate, until she couldn't take
anymore.  Cum built up in her mouth, and was starting to come out of her nose
while she choked on it before I let go of her head and let her come up for air.
 

"Looks like you couldn't drink it all," I said, snapping a few more pictures as
she gasped for air.  "I didn't mention that as a homunculus, I can cum way more
than a human, did I?  Oh well, a deal's a deal.  No alchemy training for you."
 

She wiped her face with her left forearm, smearing rather than wiping away the
mess.  She stared hatefully at me for a moment, then broke out laughing.  Blue
light coursed over Sloth's body as she resumed her own, twelve year old
appearance, all while her voice likewise shifted back to normal.  

"Great closing line, there," she said.  Sloth was still wearing what she had
been a moment ago, and still had my cum smeared on her face.  "After all that,
the poor girl didn't even get what she came for."  

"Once you started to act all shocked and affronted in your own scene, it wasn't
hard to tell you were looking for me to get a little forceful and sadistic."  

"And you did not disappoint," said Sloth happily.  "Those pictures are staying
in our private collection."  

"Of course," I agreed.  "Aside from just wanting to keep you all to myself, I
certainly wouldn't want Luna or Hermione to have to deal with them being out
there.  Hell, in a world where memory charms are a thing, they might have to
deal with the possibility the photographs are real."  

"So, any requests for next time?"  

"How about someone who wants to be there?" I requested.  "Not that I haven't
been having fun with the sadistic dominance scenarios, but I could use a
break."  

"I think I can manage to make you feel appreciated," said Sloth slyly.  Then
she sighed, cleaned up, and got dressed.  "And once again, we both go to bed
alone.  We really need a plan come summer, because this either sleeping
together or being with one another in our real forms, but never both thing is
getting frustrating."  

"Maybe we can just buy a house," I suggested as we left the lab with the
flowers reset and a pile of red stones each.  
                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Some fun with shape shifting.  This being their first try at it, they're just
dipping their toes into the possibilities it represents. 
***** The Second Death of Sir Nicholas *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 17) The Second Death of Sir
Nicholas
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Ron's slug attacks had cleared up by the next day, and his new wand was working
perfectly.  His usual resentment about us paying for things for him was soothed
by my infinite wealth, the fact that the wand was an apology gift, and the fact
that this year, he'd be learning to turn lead into gold too.  

Neither Ron nor Harry had anything good to say about their detentions, though
Harry did have an interesting experience near the end.  Apparently, a
disembodied voice had said things like, "Let me rip you.  Let me tear you.  Let
me kill you," near the end of his detention.  Lockheart apparently hadn't heard
anything, and given how late it was, Harry was probably dozing a bit, but he
was adamant that he'd really heard it, and arguing the point didn't seem worth
it.  

As it was still the weekend, I started in on continuing Ron's alchemy lessons
while Harry was dragged off to the Quidditch field to make up for the practice
the Slytherins had interrupted yesterday.  I decided Ron would either stick
with the training or not no matter what I did, so I started the lessons on
elemental transmutations with the circle for turning lead into gold.  Ron
burned that array into his memory, and tried it out a dozen or more times. 
Here was the expression of awe and wonder at his newfound powers that hadn't
come with his first transmutation like it had for me, but had come none the
less.  

"I-" started Ron as he stared down at a small pile of gold bars in the center
of a transmutation circle.  "Where do I tell people this came from?"  

"Greed and I said we were bringing in money from out of the country," said
Sloth.  "We didn't really want to draw attention."  

"On the other hand," I said, "there's no reason you have to hide that you can
do this.  You could just explain your windfall with the truth, that you learned
alchemy and have a key piece of knowledge that makes it possible to transmute
gold without a Stone."  

"You should think hard about that, though," warned Sloth.  "Once you become
famous, you can't turn back.  Ask Harry."  

"I'll think about it," said Ron seriously.  

"If making gold was all you wanted, we're done, then," I said.  "On the other
hand, I've still got plenty more to teach.  Are you still in?"  

"Yeah," said Ron after a moment's contemplation.  "I still need to master the
other elemental transmutations."  

"That's what I was hoping you'd say," I said with a smile.  Then I started
taking him through the other metal transmutations.  

                                     * * *


Over the next few weeks, we were all able to settle into a routine.  I stayed
closer to Luna in the common room to help discourage the bullying.  It was
somewhat successful in that they didn't try anything when I was actually in the
room.  

Transfiguration continued to be simple enough to translate into alchemy, while
charms continuously offered new challenges.  A tickling charm required me to
spend a great deal of time and effort working out how to directly stimulate
nerves by controling the balance of ions in the neuron I wanted to fire. 
Getting the right nerves to fire in the right way took some self-
experimentation.  The early attempts would make a very effective torture spell,
but I eventually got the tickling charm to work.  

I had cause to rejoice in my homonculus body once again as Sloth and I were
untouched by a cold that swept through the school.  Fortunately, there was a
potion that could cure it in the rest of the student body.  

My opinion of our defence professor gradually shifted to align with Harry's. 
The joke of a quiz from our first class had apparently been meant to be taken
seriously, as the rest of the class was centered around teaching how awesome
Gilderoy Lockheart was, rather than providing meaningful knowledge about dark
creatures or curses.  The pixie fight proved to be an outlier, as Lockheart
refused to bring in creatures to practice on again after he failed to recapture
them during another class.  It was now painfully obvious I was better at
Defense Against the Dark Arts than our professor, and that his books were made
up trash full of impossibilities like him curing a werewolf, despite the
condition being incurable according to every other reference.  

Loki and Fang were happily reunited and played together often.  Sloth and I
continued to find time between classes to meet, share tips on mimicking spells,
and generally talk to someone for whom this world's culture was equally alien. 
She continued to complain about the workload, but she was clearly enjoying her
time here.  Because of how much the Quidditch teams were practicing,
particularly Gryffindor, we barely had time to stop in to the lab, harvest our
red stones, and reset the planters to grow more.  

One day, in late October, Sloth and I were sitting outside discussing the best
way to use alchemy to prevent heat transfer in preparation for our next charms
class on flame freezing charms.  Loki and Fang were racing one another to catch
a stick I'd throw every now and then.  Harry came up to us looking nervous and
uncomfortable.  

"Hi, Harry," said Sloth, waving to him.  "Enjoying the clear weather after all
that rain?"  

"I still haven't dried out from Quidditch practice in the downpour this
morning," rep-lied Harry, sitting down in the grass with us.  

"I can help with that," I said, drawing my wand and pointing it at him.  The
alchemic array carved in the wooden shaft flared blue for a moment, and all the
water on Harry's body and soaked into his clothes instantly evaporated into the
air.  

"Thanks," said Harry.  "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something.  Do you know
Nearly Headless Nick?"  

"He's the Gryffindor house ghost, right?" said Sloth.  "The Fat Friar mentions
him every now and then.  Usually in an argument about Peeves."  

"Yeah," said Harry.  "Well, last night after Quidditch practice, Filch brought
me down to his office for dripping mud everywhere.  Nick got me out of trouble
by convincing Peeves to distract Filch."  

"Good for you," I congratulated him.  

"I asked if there was anything I could do to pay him back, and he asked me to
come to his deathday party.  It's the same time as the Halloween feast. 
Please, come with me."  

"Sounds like fun," I said.  

"We have been meaning to do more with the ghosts," noted Sloth.  

"So, how's Quidditch practice been going?  We hardly ever see you anymore," I
said.  

"Wood's been working us harder than ever," said Harry, "but I don't know if
it'll make a difference.  Those Nimbus 2001s they have are going to leave us in
the dust."  

"Speed isn't everything," said Sloth comfortingly.  "You still need good
players, and those aren't the ones that have to buy their way in."  

"We're both rooting for you against the Slytherins," I said cheerfully.  

Harry got up and bid us farewell.  When he'd gone, I said, "And now we know
what to get Harry for Christmas."  

"Won't be in time for the game against Slytherin," noted Sloth.  "We'd be
sabotaging our own houses."  

"Harry's broom is already pretty much top of the line," I argued.  "Getting
their player with the best broom a slightly better one won't make that much
difference."  

"I guess you're right," conceded Sloth.  "Did you want to be the one to floo to
Diagon Alley to pick it up?  Ordering it by owl wouldn't be at all discrete."  

"I'll floo out tonight," I said, nodding.  

                                     * * *


When Loki and I got back to Ravenclaw tower that night, I found Luna lifting
cushions of the common room chairs.  

"Is everything okay, Luna?" I asked.  

"I'm trying to find my homework for tomorrow.  The tower has a real problem
with nargles."  

"Nargles?" I asked.  

"They're a tiny magical creature that like to steal and hide people's things,"
replied Luna matter of factly.  "They're why socks go missing in the wash."  

"How many times have the nargles taken your things since you got to Hogwarts?"
I asked, helping her look.  

"At least twice a week," she said.  "They've never been this bad at home.  I've
written my father to send me a back issue of the Quibbler that had some advice
for getting rid of them."  

"And has anyone else in the tower been targeted by the nargles?" I asked,
suspecting the answer.  

"No one's mentioned it."  

"I didn't think so.  Luna, I don't think it's nargles.  The other students who
were bullying you earlier probably stoke and hid your things.  They did it to
me last year."  I pulled a rolled parchment out from behind a book case and
handed it to Luna.  

"Thank you," she said on verifying it was her missing report.  

"I had to start locking my trunk with alchemy to make them give up," I
explained.  "I can help you secure your things the same way."  

I went to walk up the stairs to the girls' dorms, and a loud alarm blared
through the room.  The spiral staircase transfigured itself into a smooth slide
that was nearly frictionless.  The transmutation circles on my shoes,
originally designed to kep me keep my footing in life or death situations, and
only later expanded to their current versatility, were the only reason I was
still standing.  

Before I'd fully assessed what had happened, the other Ravenclaw students came
down to investigate.  Most of the younger students were as confused as I was. 
It was only when one of the prefects spoke up that I understood what had
happened.  

"Looks like a little pervert tried to sneak in to the girls' dormitory."  

Laughter erupted from the gathered masses, with me standing there vaguely
embarrassed as the central object of scorn.  

"He was trying to help me secure my trunk," declared Luna, coming to my
defense.  

"I'll bet he was," sneered Michael Corner.  "I guess the Hufflepuff girl wasn't
enough for him."  

"You leave her out of this," I snapped angrily.  My wand was in my hand, and
all thought of my own embarrassment flew from my mind.  

"Which her?" asked Michael, feeling safe among the large number of other
students here to ridicule me.  "Your girlfriend in Hufflepuff or Looney
Lovegood?"  

"One more word against either of them and you'll be vomiting slugs until
morning," I warned him hotly.  

"That's enough!" declared the same prefect who'd called me a pervert,
recognizing things were getting out of hand.  "Everyone off to bed.  And if I
hear anyone hasn't let this drop, whoever it is'll lose five points for
Ravenclaw."  

                                     * * *


They didn't drop it, and by the time Halloween rolled around, it was only
through frequent threats of bodily harm that I managed to not be constantly
bombarded with questions about a love triangle between me, Sloth, and Luna. 
Sloth took the rumors with good humor.  When I started to explain what actually
happened, Sloth waived me off, noting she already figured the event in question
had been perfectly innocent.  

Luna hardly seemed to notice the rumors at all.  At most, she spent a bit more
time with her nose buried in a copy of the Quibbler, a magazine I learned was
edited by her father, and which the other students didn't hold in particularly
high regard.  I ordered a subscription half out of spite.  

As a result of the bullying, I was the most cheerful of the five of us who made
our way down to Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party and away from the
Halloween feast.  Nick had invited Ron, Hermione, Sloth, and I in order to
entice Harry to come.  And while Hermione was fascinated to learn how the
ghostly revel worked, I was just happy to avoid the large social gathering in
the Great Hall.  

Black candles shedding pale, blue light marked the path down into the dungeons
where the celebration was being held.  I'd learned that passing through a ghost
felt like being doused in ice water, so it was no surprise that the temperature
dropped noticeably as we approached a large gathering.  A musical saw was being
played.  

"Is that supposed to be music?" demanded Ron incredulously before Nick came
into view.  

"My dear friends," greeted Nearly Headless Nick somberly.  "Welcome, welcome. 
So pleased you could come."  He bowed deeply, removing his hat as he did so.  

There were hundreds of guests, though we five were the only ones still living. 
A long tale at the far side of the room was set with food, including a large,
tombstone like cake.  Black velvet draped every inch of the room, and it was
cold enough to see our breath.  

"Shall we have a look around?" suggested Harry.  

"Careful not to step through anyone," added Ron.  

"That does seem like it'd be rude," I agreed.  

Ron gave me a look as we started circling around the dance floor.  

"Too bad," noted Sloth.  "If we didn't have to worry so much about that, I'd
have liked to get out on the dance floor."  

"Next party with dancing," I promised her.  

"Oh no.  Turn back.  Turn back.  I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle," said
Hermione urgently.  

"Who?" asked Harry as we all reversed course.  

"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor,"
explained Hermione.  

"She haunts a toilet?" asked Harry, trying to process why anyone would want to
spend their afterlife doing anything of the sort.  

"Yes," confirmed Hermione.  "It's been out of order all year because she keeps
having tantrums and flooding the place.  I never went in there anyway if I
could avoid it.  It's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you."  

"Look, food!" Ron said as he steered us toward the buffet.  It soon became
clear the food wasn't meant for the living, as it had all been left to rot.  A
moldy, green block of cheese was the only thing that looked remotely edible.  

One of the ghosts passed his mouth through a piece of rotten fish, prompting
Harry to ask if they could taste it that way.  The sad, "Almost," from the
ghost made me very glad I had an immortal body, since that kind of sensory
deprivation sounded awful.  

"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavor," posited Hermione.  

"Can we move?" asked Ron.  "I feel sick."  

We turned around and found ourselves face to face with Peeves the poltergeist. 
He offered us some rotten peanuts, then said, "Heard you talking about poor
Myrtle.  Rude you was about poor Myrtle.  Oy Myrtle!"  

Hermione talked fast and low.  "Oh no, Peeves.  Don't tell her what I said. 
She'll be really upset.  I didn't mean it.  I don't mind her.  Er, hello,
Myrtle."  

"What?" she asked, huffing unhappily.  

"How are you Myrtle?  It's nice to see you out of the toilet," said Hermione,
trying to control the conversation before Peeves could cause trouble.  It was a
lost cause.  

"Miss Granger was just talking about you," said Peeves.  

"Just saying... saying... how nice you look tonight," Hermione lied.  

"You're making fun of me," said Myrtle, starting to tear up.  

"She wasn't," I said, futilely trying to avert a breakdown.  

"No, honestly, didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?" prompted Hermione,
nudging Harry and Ron, who promptly tried to back Hermione up.  

"Don't lie to me," said Myrtle sobbing.  "Do you think I don't know what people
call me behind my back?  Fat Myrtle!  Ugly Myrtle!  Miserable, moaning, moping
Myrtle!"  

"You've forgotten pimply," added Peeves helpfully, nudging Myrtle over the edge
and prompting her to run off trailing spectral tears.  Peeves followed her,
pelting her with rotten nuts yelling, "Pimply, pimply!"  

I turned to Sloth and said, "Never listen to Peeves about anything that might
upset you.  He's probably lying, and even if he's not, he's making it sound
worse."  

Sloth nodded.  "Too bad about the whole 'indestructible spirit of chaos'
thing."  

As we talked, the ghost of honor floated over to us, asking, "Enjoying
yourselves?"  

"Oh yes," said Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  Sloth and I looked dubious,  but
didn't contradict them.  Nick was the Gryffindor ghost and they knew him
better.  

"Not a bad turnout," admired Nick.  "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from
Kent.  It's nearly time for my speech.  I'd better go and warn the orchestra." 
A horn blared and Nick said bitterly, "Oh, here we go."  

A dozen headless horsemen galloped through a nearby wall.  Nick didn't look
happy to see them.  The one who'd blown the horn (while holding his head under
his arm) dismounted and plopped his head onto his neck and clapped Nearly
Headless Nick on the shoulder in a too familiar gesture for how stiff Nick was
standing.  

"Nick!  How are you?  Head still hanging in there?"  

"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick, falling back on etiquette to mask his
discomfort.  

"Live ones!" said Patrick, giving an exaggerated start so his head fell off his
shoulders again.  The assembled crowd laughed and applauded his antics.  

"Very amusing," said Nick in a tone that suggested he was anything but amused.
 

"Don't mind Nick," said Patrick's head to the crowd.  "Still upset we won't let
him join the hunt.  But I mean to say, look at the fellow."  

I didn't know the Gryffindor ghost well, but the sudden change from being
pleased at the turnout to being bitter and awkward at his own party was every
bit as obvious as Myrtle's emotional state had been.  

"I think Nick's very frightening, and er-" started Harry awkwardly.  

"Ha!  Bet he asked you to say that!" laughed Patrick's head from the floor.  

"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech," said Nearly
Headless Nick as he ascended to the podium.  He began to try and draw the
attention of the crowd, but the Headless Hunt, obviously skilled showmen, kept
the crowed's attention on them by starting a game of head hockey.  

"I can't stand much more of this," said Ron.  

"I know what you mean," I said, looking at Nick as he gloomily became
marginalized at his own five hundredth deathday party.  

"Let's go," said Harry, who led us out into the hall.  As we headed toward the
Great Hall to catch the tail end of the feast, Harry suddenly stopped.  

"Harry, what're you-?" Hermione started to ask.  

"It's that voice again.  Shut up a minute," replied Harry.  We complied and
listened ourselves.  I heard nothing, and Harry said, "Listen."  After another
long moment of not hearing any voice, Harry took off at a run, declaring, "This
way!"  

We ran after, with Harry stopping to listen periodically and shushing any
questions from us.  Finally, he declared in a horrified tone, "It's going to
kill someone!"  He sprinted after this voice only he could hear, eventually
leading us to a corridor where huge bold letters had been painted on one of the
walls.  

"THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.  ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE."  

"What's that thing hanging underneath?" asked Ron.  

We approached to investigate, Harry nearly slipping in a puddle of water in the
corridor.  Hanging by her tail was Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, still as the
grave.  

"Let's get out of here," said Ron after a moment.  

"Shouldn't we try and help?" asked Harry, clearly having no real idea how to
help.  

Ron replied, "Trust me, we don't want to be found here."  

As if on cue, crowds of students freshly released from the Halloween feast
poured into the corridor from both sides.  The five4 of us stood in the center
next to the menacing message and the dead cat.  It didn't look good at all.  

If there was one thing I absolutely did not expect to be rescued by, it was
Draco Malfoy's obsessive need to make everything about himself.  Draco muscled
his way to the front of the crowd and called out triumphantly, "Enemies of the
Heir, beware!  You'll be next, mudbloods!"  

Filch arrived on the scene a moment later, however, ruining Draco's excellent
distraction by noticing the five of us clumped around Mrs. Norris.  "My cat! 
My cat!  What's happened to Mrs. Norris?  You!  You!"  Filch stared straight at
Harry, identifying him as the ring leader.  "You've murdered my cat!  You've
killed her!  I'll kill you!  I'll-"  

"Argus!" snapped Dumbledore upon arriving on the scene, saving Filch's life by
deflating his threats with that one word.  "Come with me, Argus.  You five,
too."  

"My office is nearest, Headmaster," interjected Gilderoy Lockheart, who'd shown
up at some point.  "Just upstairs.  Please, feel free-"  

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore quickly.  He then scooped up Mrs. Norris
and led the way out of the crowd.  The five of us, Filch, Lockheart,
McGonagall, and Snape followed.  Dumbledore set Mrs. Norris on the desk for
examination.  McGonagall was assisting while Lockheart made arrogant
pronouncements to make himself feel important.  

After a long while with no one important saying a word, Dumbledore announced,
"She's not dead, Argus."  

"Not dead?" asked Fich, suppressing his sobs of grief to hear the old wizard
out.  "But why's she all... stiff and frozen?"  

Dumbledore replied gravely, "She has been petrified, but how, I cannot say."  

"Ask him!" yelled Filch, rounding again on Harry.  

"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly.  "It would take
dark magic of the most advanced-"  

Filch interrupted, rage filled eyes still locked on Harry.  "He did it!  He did
it!  You saw what he wrote on the wall!  He found- in my office- he knows I'm
a- I'm a- I'm a squib!"  

"I never touched Mrs. Norris, and I don't even know what a squib is," declared
Harry.  

Filch shot back, "Rubbish!  He saw my Kwikspell letter!"  

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape, "Potter and his friends may have
simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but we do have a set of
suspicious circumstances here.  Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? 
Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"  

Snape, of course, knew the answer.  The man was a mind reader and only Sloth
and I had been trained to keep him out.  This was just his way of moving the
conversation along.  For all he was acting the part of hating Harry, he was
clearly giving him an opening to explain his alibi.  We took the opportunity,
explaining about the deathday party, and all the ghosts that could verify our
story.  

"But why not join the feast afterward?" prompted Snape.  "Why go up to that
corridor?"  

"Because... because..." Harry looked like he was going to try to lie.  To Snape
and Dumbledore.  Who could both read his mind.  He caught sight of the
incredulous look on my face, realized the absurdity and sighed.  "I was
following a voice.  It was talking like it was going to kill someone.  It was
the same voice I heard in Professor Lockheart's office."  

"And did the rest of you hear this so-called voice?" asked Professor Snape.  We
all reluctantly shook our heads.  

"They boy's defense is he's gone mad?" demanded Filch, incredulously.  "My cat
has been petrified!  I want to see some punishment!"  

"Innocent until proven guilty, Argus," said Dumbledore after staring hard at
Harry for a long moment.  "We will be able to cure her.  Professor Sprout
recently managed to procure some mandrakes.  As soon as they have reached their
full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."  

"I'll make it," declared Lockheart, reminding us all he was in the room.  "I
must have done it a hundred times.  I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative
Draught in my sleep."  

"Excuse me, but I believe I am the potions master at this school," retorted
Snape.  

"You may go," Dumbledore dismissed the five of us.  

Once the five of us were safely away, we found an empty classroom to talk in.  

"Do you think they believed me about the voice?"  

"Filch certainly didn't," noted Sloth.  

"You believe me, don't you?" asked Harry looking around.  

I nodded firmly with the others and said, "I'll bet it's like the thestrals. 
You meet whatever requirement you need to have and we don't."  

"And obviously Professor Dumbledore knows you really heard it.  He and Snape
will have both seen it in your mind," added Hermione.  

"What was that writing on the wall about?" mused Harry.  "'The Chamber of
Secrets has been opened.'  What's that supposed to mean?"  

"You know," said Ron, "it sort of rings a bell.  I think someone told me a
story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once.  Might've been Bill."  

"And what on earth's a squib?" asked Harry.  

Ron laughed and covered his mouth guiltily.  "Well, it's not funny, really. 
But as it's Filch...  A squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family,
but hasn't got any magic powers.   Kind of the opposite of muggleborn wizards,
but squibs are quite unusual.  If Filch's trying to learn magic from a
Kwikspell course, I reckon he musts be a squib.  It would explain a lot, like
why he hates students so much.  He's bitter."  

"Would that work?" I asked, intrigued.  "Could me and Sloth develop actual
magic using Kwikspell courses?"  

"Not in a million years," said Ron.  "They're really for people like Neville. 
People who've got magic, but are just rubbish at it.  Squibs do them a lot
anyway though.  Keep hoping it'll turn out they really had magic after all."  

"Life is unfair," I complained before we all headed back to oru dorms.  

                                     * * *


The attack on Mrs. Norris consumed the rumor mill utterly, which meant that no
one was talking about the incident in the staircase to the girls' dormitory
anymore.  My own troubles over, I turned my attention to the troubles of
others, gradually hatching a plan crazy enough that I ought to have Sloth look
it over before I presented it to anyone else.  

"I want to bring Nearly Headless Nick back to life, then decapitate him
properly," I said while we were sitting outside, getting Loki some exercise.  

"Why do you want to do that?" asked Sloth.  

"I was talking to the Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost, about what happened at
Nick's deathday party.  Apparently, he's been trying to join the Headless hunt,
but they keep rejecting him because the executioner who killed him used a blunt
axe and left his head still technically attached on one side."  

"And you think he'll be willing to go through dying again for his chance to
join?  They didn't seem like particularly nice people when they came to the
party.  I don't know why he wants to join their club."  

"True enough," I agreed.  "Still, I figure he ought to get to decide for
himself."  

"It seems pretty risky.  It's not like we really understand how ghosts work. 
We might kill him and he won't come back at all."  

"And we'll never know without the experiment."  

"That's what's different," said Sloth, snapping her fingers.  "My father ran
experiments on people too.  The difference is you're willing to wait however
long it takes to find volunteers."  She kissed me.  

"Luna caught an obvious flaw in my last plan.  I think I'll run this by her
too.  Once we're a go, I figure we should bring Harry, Ron, and Hermione in. 
If Voldemort does find out how to get a homunculus body, I want them to know
how to kill him."  

                                     * * *


"Have you found the Resurrection Stone?" asked Luna after I presented my plan
to raise and re-kill the Gryffindor ghost.  We were alone in the common room. 
All the other Ravelcaws had gone to bed.  

"What's the Resurrection Stone?" I asked.  

"It's one of the Deathly Hallows," replied Luna.  

"And those are?" I asked when it was clear she wasn't going to elaborate
without a prompt.  

"They're three powerful magic artifacts forged by Death himself.  The Elder
Wand, which can't be bested in a duel, the Cloak of Invisibility, which hides
its wearer even from Death, and the Resurrection Stone, which calls the dead
back to the land of the living."  

"No.  I haven't found anything like that.  I'm planning on making Nick a new
body using alchemy, then attaching his soul to it.  Voldemort tried doing the
same thing last year to resurrect himself."  

"Oh, in that case, it seems like it would work.  You're better at making people
than you are at wands, right?"  

"Much better," I affirmed.  

                                     * * *


"You're serious?" asked Nearly Headless Nick.  

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Sloth, Nick, and I were all inside an unused
classroom in one of the dungeons.  

"I won't pretend there aren't risks," I said.  "I've never tired a soul
attachment using a ghost before.  And once you're back alive, I don't know what
we have to do to ensure you become a ghost again on your death."  

"A wizard can choose to leave behind an imprint in this world rather than pass
on," said Nick.  "Its not as though I don't have experience in that area."  

"You might not come back as a wizard," warned Sloth.  "We don't know what makes
someone a wizard, so there's a chance you'll come back to life as a muggle."  

"Even if it is Nearly Headless Nick-" started Ron.  

"Sir Nicholas," if you please," corrected the ghost.  

"Even if it is him," continued Ron, "I don't think people are going to be
understanding if they find a fresh corpse in the school.  Especially after what
happened to Mrs. Norris."  

"Good news," I said.  "When killed this way, homunculus bodies melt into a
puddle of red water."  

"You've done this a lot before?" asked Harry, nervously.  

"No," I replied.  "This would be my first time seeing the process firsthand. 
That said, the information is reliable."  

"There's one more concern," said Sloth.  "The method we're going to use
requires your human remains and they can only be used once.  If we botch the
execution again..."  

"Then we use a guillotine," said Hermione, drawing stares.  "Hey, this whole
plan is crazy, but if we're going to go through with this, well, that is what
they were designed for."  

"When do we get started?" asked Sir Nicholas.  "Oh, won't Sir Patrick be
surprised to see my head flying through his office window..."  

                                     * * *


Sloth used floo powder and her invisibility cloak to visit Sir Nicholas' grave
and retrieve a bone.  Fortunately, he'd been buried in a proper marked grave
after his execution.  I had Ron scrounge up the base elements for the human
transmutation.  He wasn't ready to do the alchemy himself, but he could manage
the shopping list.  

Harry was assigned to impress on Sir Nicholas the importance of secrecy.  If
Voldemort got wind of what we were doing, or worse, how, it would be a
disaster.  Luna and Hermione were setting up the execution grounds.  Nobody
would suspect Hermione of rule breaking, so she could give almost any excuse if
caught.  Luna could, hopefully, get the whole apparatus safely and thoroughly
tested.  

As for me, I retrieved the needed red stones and went over my notes on human
alchemy.  I'd have to be alone for most of this, since we couldn't risk
unshielded minds seeing any of the arrays.  

The preparations were quick, and the very next night, all was in readiness. 
The seven of us gathered in an unoccupied part of the dungeons, aided by
Harry's, Sloth's, and my invisibility cloaks.  

"Is there a reason you brought Scabbers, Ron?" I asked.  

"It's not my fault," complained Ron, miserably.  "He just got all clingy all of
a sudden."  

"Just keep him under control," I said.  "This is a delicate enough procedure
without our pets getting underfoot.  That's why I left Loki asleep back in the
dorms."  

"I know, I know," said Ron.  "Can we please just get on with it?  We're alone
now, but for all we know Peeves could show up, and that'd be worse than
anything Scabbers could do."  

"Actually," said Sir Nicholas proudly, "I suggested to Peeves that tonight
would be an excellent time to put shoe polish on all the telescopes in the
astronomy tower."  

"Brilliant," said Harry.  

"Still, we really shouldn't waste any time," added Hermione.  "Are you sure you
want to go through with this?"  

"Absolutely, my dear," affirmed Nick.  "And thank you for all your efforts to
make sure it's clean this time around."  

"Last chance to back out," I said, pulling a soul coin out of my pocket.  With
a gesture, I marred the array on the back and dislodged the red stone fragment,
leaving only the blood seal.  Pressing the coin into Nearly Headless Nick's
spectral form, I activated the seal.  Blue light poured from the seal, and
Nearly Headless Nick evaporated into nothingness.  The humans gasped.  

"Now, this is peculiar," came the voice of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington
from the coin.  

"Step one was a success," I announced.  "Harry, you hold this, and whatever you
do, don't break the seal."  

"Right," said Harry, taking the coin gingerly.  

I stepped into the next room and heard Sloth reminding the others, "This next
part is secret and dangerous.  If you don't want Voldemort back, and if you
don't want to be dismembered by the alchemy Greed's working with, stay out."  

In the center of the room were the ingredients Ron had measured out.  I went
over them again just to be sure, then I stomped my foot, causing a human
transmutation array to carve itself into the stone.  Tossing a small chip from
the bone Sloth retrieved onto the pile in the center, I got to my knees and
pressed my palms to the transmutation circle.  

Blue light poured from the array and the inert matter in the center began to
move and distort.  And suddenly, I was once again before the Gate.  The
familiar stone double doors swung open, and all the knowledge of the universe
once again poured through me.  Truth, the Elric brothers had called it.  I let
it wash over me as the shadowy hands of the Gate Children clawed at my flesh
and ripped off my right hand.  It didn't matter.  What mattered was that there
was a way to gain access to the magic of this world.  I was on the edge of
comprehending it when the shadowy limbs withdrew and the Gate slammed shut.  I
didn't know what the way was, but the fact that it was possible was heartening
in and of itself.  

Back in the room, I examined my newly formed homunculus as I grew a new hand. 
Like all of us, it had been born a misshapen pile of bloody organs and twisted
bones.  I quickly found its oroboros mark as my creation struggled to breathe.
 

Stomping and undrawing the human transmutation array, I called for Harry to
enter.  He nearly threw up on sighting the creature I'd made.  Ron and Hermione
braced him, even though they weren't doing much better themselves.  Luna
handled it the best, since Sloth had to stay outside with the bone until the
homunculus stabilized.  

Harry handed over Sir Nicholas' soul coin, and I pressed it to the oroboros
mark.  "This part is going to hurt," I warned him, before attaching his soul to
the homunculus body.  Fortunately, I knew from experience it would take some
time before he figured out how to scream.  

"Red stones," I ordered, snapping my fingers.  Luna quickly handed me the
basket, and I began feeding Nick the red stones that would stabilize his body
into a human form.  When Nick's features emerged, and he stood up, strong,
healthy, and alive, with an oroboros mark on the side of his neck where he'd
previously had the flap of skin that earned him his nickname, I asked, "How do
you feel?"  

"Much better than I did a moment ago," he huffed.  "I think that was actually
more painful than forty five hits to the neck with a blunt axe."  

"Are you really alive?" asked Harry in wonder.  

"I do seem to be," noted Sir Nicholas happily.  

"Why aren't you naked?" asked Luna.  

"I beg your pardon?" said Sir Nicholas.  

"I mean, did he resurrect your clothes too?" asked Luna.  "I didn't think you
were wearing so much black."  

"It's a weird side effect of the process," I explained.  "Speaking of which,
though, you should change into the clothes Luna got for you.  We'll meet you
outside."  

"You really can raise the dead with alchemy," marveled Ron as we gave Nick some
privacy.  

"I told you the Philosopher's Stone was wasted doing something as trivial as
making gold," I said proudly.  

"Next lesson, how to kill a homunculus," said Sloth.  "If Voldemort does ever
manage the same thing, you'll need to know."  Tapping her wand on the ground, a
flamel array drew itself.  "Red stones in its body allow a homunculus to
regenerate from any injury.  This array forces those stones out of the
homunculus' body."  

Sir Nicholas emerged in an outfit quite similar to the ones he usually appeared
in.  "I believe I'm prepared to face the guillotine."  

"Ron, would you do the honors?" I offered with a gesture to the array.  

"First I need you here for a minute," said Ron, gesturing at the circle.  "This
part might hurt too."  

Ron touched the flamel array and it shone with golden light.  Sir Nicholas fell
to his knees and regurgitated a handful of red stones onto the floor, where
they melted.  

"Why," demanded Sir Nicholas as he got to his feet, "didn't we do that part
before I changed clothes?"  

"Will someone loan him a wand so he can clean up?" I suggested, and Harry
handed over his.  

Sir Nicholas waived Harry's wand over his body and the stains vanished.  Harry
retrieved the wand again.  

"You're definitely still a wizard," noted Sloth.  "Means homunculi can be
wizards.  Also, you might actually get a chance to come back as a ghost."  

"Harry, would you do the honors?" asked Sir Nicholas as he set his head inside
the guillotine.  

"Me?" asked Harry, blanching.  "Maybe someone else should do it.  I've never
done anything like this before.  I- I don't want to make a mistake."  

"Don't look at me," said Ron.  "I already made him puke all over himself."  

"I made the guillotine," said Hermione.  "Isn't that enough?"  

"Why don't we just give Sir Nicholas the rope?" suggested Luna.  

"That would make timing my new last words easier," said Sir Nicholas,
scratching his chin.  "All right, bring it here."  

Harry handed him the rope with a forced smile.  Nick took it and shook Harry's
hand, making Harry even more uncomfortable.  

"Take notes you old incompetent!" yelled Sir Nicholas suddenly.  "This is how
you take off a head!"  

He tugged the rope, and the blade fell.  Sloth held out the bone towards Sir
Nicholas.  It was a clean cut, and we saw the bone disintegrate in Sloth's
hand.  We all held our breath as Sir Nicholas' body melted into a puddle of red
water on the bench, and another in the basket.  As flesh and bone vanished, we
strained our eyes to see ephemera.  

Faintly translucent, we six were the first to behold the new Gryffindor ghost,
Headless Nick.  

"It worked!" exclaimed Nick's head from the basket.  His body grabbed it out
and held it up to us.  "I can't thank you enough.  All of you.  I never
imagined I'd get a chance like this.  'Don't meet the requirements.'  Ha!  I'll
show him!"  

"Just not a word about the how," I emphasized.  

"I would sooner die than betray your trust," said Nick, bowing as he held his
head level.  

"We're serous," said Sloth.  

"As I said, I am deeply grateful to you all.  Not one word on the how.  That'll
be fun holding that over Sir Patrick's head," Nick mused aand floated off
through the ceiling.

"I can't believe that is what's going to let me see thestrals," said Hermione
after a long, awkward silence.  

I simply clapped my hands and deconstructed the guillotine, dealing with the
evidence.  

"At least you were safe for it," offered Harry.  

"And he was happy about it," said Luna.  

"I hope it's everything he wanted," said Sloth.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Re-executing Nearly Headless Nick was one of the scenes I wanted to include
when I started in on this story.  Meanwhile, note what Scabbers did and did not
see.  Overlooking the rat here will come back to bite our heroes. 
***** Studying Slytherin's Serpent *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 18) Studying Slytherin's
Serpent
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


I wasn't particularly concerned about the attack on Mrs. Norris.  Threatening
messages were one thing, but so far, only a cat had been attacked, nonfatally. 
Given how easy it would have been to finish the job, I doubted that the culprit
had enough of a killer instinct to do any lasting harm.  

When Hermione dragged Harry and Ron to see me and Sloth where we were working
on our homework, I was surprised to hear her announce, "We think Malfoy is the
Heir of Slytherin, and we need your help to prove it."  

"What?" I asked.  

"We think he's the one that sicked Slytherin's monster on Mrs. Norris and wrote
that message," explained Harry.  

"Slytherin's monster?" asked Sloth, clearly as lost as I was.  

"Turns out Binns was good for something," said Ron, referring to the ghost
teacher of History of Magic.  "He told us the story of the Chamber of Secrets."
 

"Here," said Hermione, handing over a piece of parchment.  "I took notes."  

"Of course you did," said Ron, rolling his eyes.  

Sloth and I leaned close and read the parchment together.  When it was done, I
said, "So, Salazar Slytherin got into an argument with the other three founders
and left the school.  He didn't think muggleborns could be trusted, since
muggles were persecuting witches at the time.  In anticipation of an 'I told
you so' moment, he left some sort of monster in a hidden chamber in the school
that he or his heir could use to defend the school from treasonous
muggleborns."  

"That's the legend," said Hermione.  "We think the Malfoys might be Slytherin's
descendants."  

"How do me and Greed fit in?" asked Sloth.  

"You're metamorphmagi," said Ron.  "You could impersonate two of the Slytherins
and get Malfoy to confess."  

"How?" I asked.  "Do you think he just struts around the Slytherin common room
announcing he attacked Mrs. Norris?  I know he's stupid, but that stupid?  Any
of the other Slytherins could turn him in to Filch."  

"Crabe and Goyle practically never leave his side," noted Harry.  "They
probably already know, so he'd talk to them."  

"Please," begged Ron.  "If you don't do this, Hermione's going to make us use
polyjuice."  

"Polyjuice?" I asked, intrigued.  "You mean that potion that turns you into
someone else?  Hm."  

"What are you thinking?" asked Harry.  

"Well, this is a terrible plan," I said, "but I wonder if we'd be able to do
magic under Polyjuice if we turned into wizards."  

"Can't you focus?" demanded Hermione.  "Even if it isn't Malfoy, his family's
got connections to the sort of dark arts that whoever's doing this must have. 
Malfoy probably knows something at least.  And whoever it is is threatening
muggleborns.  I want to know who it is, and I don't know why you don't."  

"I'll do it," said Sloth.  "It is a bad plan, but if it'll make you feel
better..."  A line of blue light ran from her toes to the top of her head as
she turned into Crabe.  

"Likewise," I said, turning into Goyle.  

"You have a plan to get the real ones out of the way while we work, right?"
asked Sloth in Crabe's voice.  

"Of course we do," said Hermione.  

"We do?" asked Ron, only to be elbowed in the ribs by Hermione.  

"Well, that's comforting," I said.  "Shall we go?"  

"Wait," demanded Harry.  "You aren't going like that, are you?"  

"Like what?" I asked.  

"Crabe and Goyle don't talk like that, and you're walking all wrong," clarified
Harry.  

So, we submitted to some acting coaching from Harry before heading off to find
Draco in the Slytherin common room.  Sloth had done some fairly extensive
scouting of the school and was able to lead us to the blank wall in the
dungeons that led to the Slytherin common room.  Taking my hand, Sloth walked
through the well, pulling me in with her.  Fortunately, none of the other
Slytherins saw us come in.  

Looking around for Draco, he wasn't in, so to pass the time, we went up to the
dorm to snoop through his stuff.  There were some letters from his father
refusing to answer questions about the Chamber of Secrets, and telling Draco to
keep his head down and let the Heir get on with purging the school of "mudblood
filth".  It clearly wasn't Draco. Sloth and I quickly left the Slytherin dorms
and got back into our regular appearances.  

"Draco doesn't know anything," said Sloth, when we found Hermione, Ron, and
Harry again.  "We found some letters in his dorm.  He's trying, unsuccessfully,
to worm information out of Lucius Malfoy."  

"Can we still brew that Polyjuice anyway?" I asked, hopefully.  

"So, it's really not Malfoy," repeated Ron.  "Then who could it be?"  

"I don't know," I said, "but we were lucky Malfoy doesn't destroy or encrypt
his correspondences, or we wouldn't have learned this much."  

"Malfoy's looking into the Chamber," noted Sloth.  "He might find out more than
we can with his connections.  Just because he doesn't know now doesn't mean he
won't know later."  

"As for the polyjuice," said Hermione, "the recipe's in a book called Moste
Potente Potions, and it's bound to be in the restricted section of the
library.  That's why we asked for your help first."  

"I don't think you want to tell any of the teachers what you really want to
try," guessed Harry.  

"I think that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the
theory, we might stand a chance," said Hermione.  

"Oh come on," said Ron.  "No teacher's going to fall for that.  They'd have to
be really thick."  

                                     * * *


Manipulating Professor Lockheart proved even easier than expected.  Stroking
his ego a bit and he signed the note we provided without even reading it. 
Madam Pince didn't like handing over the book, but she did it.  

I tapped the book with the red stone affixed to the end of my wand and tapped
the stone to my temple, absorbing the book's contents into my mind.  Touching
my wand to Sloth's back, over her oroboros mark, I imprinted the knowledge on
her mind as well.  As I did so, I handed the book over to Hermione, who'd need
to assimilate its contents the old fashioned way.  She, in turn, led us to an
out of order girl's bathroom, the one haunted by Moaning Myrtle.  

"Why are we talking here?" asked Ron.  

"Because it's the last place anyone in their right minds would go, so we're
guaranteed some privacy," said Hermione.  

"Myrtle's right there," noted Sloth, pointing to a bathroom stall with sobbing
coming out of it.  

"Is she still crying over what Peeves did?" I asked, worriedly.  

"Just about anything sets her off," said Hermione, coldly.  "You'll know she's
really upset when she floods the place like she did on Halloween."  

"That's what that puddle in the hall was," I said.  "Do you think she saw what
happened?"  

"She didn't.  We asked," replied Harry.  

"Okay, so, the potion," said Hermione, finding the page.  

"Most of the ingredients are pretty common," I said.  "We'll need to make
another floo powder trip to pick up some bicorn horn and boomslang skin."  

"And we'll need some bits of the person we're turning into," added Sloth.  "Do
you mind if we use a couple hairs from you guys?"  

"Just don't do anything to get us in trouble while you're us," said Ron.  

"It looks like it'll take about a month to brew," noted Hermione.  "We;ll need
to keep it hidden."  

"We have a place," I said.  

                                     * * *


The five of us gathered at the Quidditch field and joined hands in a circle. 
Sloth used her powers to let us sink through the ground and emerge into our
hidden lab.  Sloth tapped her wand to one of the transmutation circles on the
wall, and hundreds of circles began glowing with a faint, blue light,
illuminating the lab.  

I made a gesture with my wand toward the bedroom, and the wizard photos on the
walls were wrapped in blue alchemic light and swept themselves into a drawer on
the wall, which then slid in and vanished seamlessly, becoming part of the
wall.  

"What was that?" asked Harry.  

"Something private," I said.  Then, indicating another door, "That area's
filled with toxic gasses.  Don't go in there without protection and
supervision."  

"This doesn't look like part of the school at all," noted Ron.  

"It isn't," said Sloth.  "Greed made it when we first came to the school.  We
needed someplace private to make these."  She held up her wand and indicated
the crystal affixed to the tip.  "They're the only thing that lets our alchemy
keep up with you wizards."  

"Your own chamber of secrets," noted Hermione.  "I'm sure no one'll catch us
brewing polyjuice in here."  

"This alcove is for potions," I said, indicating a small area with a cauldron
inside a transmutation circle with a red stone on a far corner of the table. 
Moving the stone to its correct position in the array, it glowed with red
alchemic light and a flame ignited beneath the cauldron.  

"It'll be a couple of weeks before we need the boomslang skin and bicorn horn,"
noted Hermione as we all got started measuring out the initial ingredients.  

                                     * * *


I had the remaining ingredients down in the lab before the season's first
Quidditch match.  Gryffindor versus Slytherin.  As usual, Sloth and I were
cheering for Gryffindor for Harry's sake.  Our houses were actually behind us
on that.  The Slytherin team's top of the line broomsticks combined with their
behavior last year when they took advantage of the attack on Harry by Quirrell
to run up the score left most of the school hoping to see them taken down a
peg.  

The seeker's part of the game typically involves him flying above the action
and staring really hard down at the field.  It was generally the least
interesting part of the game to watch.  This time was different.  A bludger had
locked on to Harry and refused to give up on him no matter how many times he
dodged the enchanted ball, or how many times the beaters, Fred and George
Weasley, tried to knock the bludger toward the Slytherin players with their
bats.  

After a brief time out and stategy meeting by the Gryffindors, Harry was
apparently left to deal with the bludger alone.  Without a bat, Harry was
forced to resort to a series of high speed manuvers and hairpoint dodges to
evade the bludger.  He couldn't keep it up forever,, and the ball hit him hard
enough that the extraordinarily durable, wizard bones in his arm snapped,
causing it to hang limp and useless as he dove badly at Draco Malfoy.  

Draco dodged aside and Harry crashed into the ground, grasping the game winning
Golden Snitch.  Lockheart was the first to reach Harry after he fell
unconscious.  The rest of us reached him just in time to see Gilderoy Lockheart
cast a spell on Harry's broken arm that made all the bones in it disappear.  

Lockheart was saying, "Ah, yes, well, that can sometimes happen.  But the point
is, the bones are no longer broken.  That's the thing to bear in mind."  

"I'm sorry," I said as I arrived, interrupting Lockheart's hand waving. 
"Broken bones, I could've fixed right here.  Missing parts... we'll need to
hope Madam Pomfrey has something.  Anything I could try at this point would
be... radical."  

Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey had a foul tasting potion called Skele-gro
explicitly for the purpose of regrowing bones.  She mentioned the process would
be painful, but at least it would be quick.  He'd have to stay overnight, but
he'd be healed by breakfast.  

                                     * * *


The next day, everything changed.  Collin Creevy, the Gryffindor first year who
was always following Harry around and taking pictures was attacked.  Petrified,
the same as Mrs. Norris had been.  Sloth snuck a peek at his bed when we went
to visit Harry upon his own discharge from the hospital wing and confirmed the
rumors.  

Harry quickly ushered us out and into an empty classroom where he informed us,
"Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night."  

House elves were apparently a breed of short, humanoid magical creatures that
are enslaved to a particular wizarding family, and can only be freed when their
master gives them clothes.  Otherwise, they are powerfully compelled to obey.  

The family Dobby served was involved with this Chamber of Secrets business, and
Dobby had strained his invisible bonds to the breaking point trying to keep
Harry out of this. Among other things, that told us Harry wasn't the explicit
target of the plot, since otherwise, Dobby wouldn't have had enough slack to
try to get Harry away from the school.

Dobby had confessed to sealing the train platform barrier to keep Harry off the
Hogwarts express at the start of the year, and to tampering with the bludger
that had broken his arm in the hopes that he would be sent home injured.  Harry
had managed to worm out of Dobby the additional detail that the Chamber of
Secrets had been opened before.  

When Harry had finished, I moved to leave.  

"Where are you going?" asked Ron.  

"Let me know if you make any progress figuring out who's doing this," I
replied.  "And if you need me, I'll help however I can.  But right now, I think
I can be of the most help trying to get Collin back on his feet."  

                                     * * *


I was trained in agricultural alchemy, and could grow plants from seeds to full
maturity in seconds.  I'd done it many times before.  There were a few
catches.  I'd only ever used it on mundane plants, and I had no way of knowing
how it might impact the usefulness of the resulting plants in a potion. 
Secondly, like with all alchemy, I needed to really understand the life cycle
of the plant inside and out, with every structure and nutritional uptake
pathway, before I could do more than just damage the plant beyond repair.  More
information than was actually in our standard Herbology textbooks.  

For those reasons, I didn't want to approach Professor Sprout, who might get
her hopes up needlessly, and who's expertise was needed growing her batch of
mandrakes conventionally, which would still be needed if my plan failed. 
Instead, I approached Neville Longbottom, who's grades in Herbology were
competitive with me and Hermione, and who was from an old wizard family and
might have more hands on experience dealing with magical plants.  

"You need my help?" asked Neville, confused.  

"That's right," I said.  "I have an herbology project I'm working on that might
revive Collin, but I need someone who knows more than I do about mandrakes."  

"Isn't Professor Sprout already growing the mandrakes Collin needs?" asked
Neville.  

"Hers won't be done until the end of the school year.  If my plan works, Collin
could be up and moving tonight, and maybe he can identify his attacker."  

The possibility of ending the attacks galvanized Neville, who asked, "What's
your plan?"  

I explained my plan to rapidly grow mandrakes to maturity using alchemy, and
the kind of detailed information I would need to do it.  

"If you think you can do this, come on," said Neville.  He brought me to the
library, tracked down a handful of herbology books, and settled us down to
talk.  

Neville was even more brilliant at Herbology than I'd hoped.  He'd worked with
a lot of magical plants at home and was able to identify specific growth phases
in mandrakes that would benefit from alchemy induced acceleration, and stages
that would need to be processed in real time due to the nature of this
particular plant.  He worked out details from first principles and experience
that would've taken me months of trial and error working alone.  

Borrowing a couple pairs of earmuffs from the greenhouse, Neville and I joined
hands and descended through the ground of the Quidditch field and emerged in my
laboratory.  My method involved opening the ground using the arrays on my shoes
and resealing it after us.  It wasn't as stealthy or subtle as Sloth's method,
but it did the job.  

We worked for two hours in absolute silence.  Starting with seeds, I would
accelerate their growth in short spurts, then Neville would check their
progress.  They needed to be watered, repotted, fertilized, and assessed
frequently, but in the end, we'd produced a dozen full grown mandrakes.  

I'd read the details on the restorative draught before coming down here to
work.  Still wearing our earmuffs, Nevile and I chopped the mandrakes up and
started stewing them.  Finally, with the last of the deadly plants stewing, and
their screams silenced, we removed our earmuffs.  

"We should test the draught on Mrs. Norris first," I said.  "If anything goes
wrong, better her than Collin."  

"Who do you think's doing all this?" asked Neville.  

"I don't know," I admitted, "but I intend to find out."  

The two of us went to the hospital wing with a large bottle filled with the
restorative draught.  When Madam Pomfrey asked why we were there, I paused to
gather my thoughts, since the details of my plan to quick grow the mandrakes
were very technical, and I didn't want her dismissing the possibility that it
had worked just because I was pretending to be twelve.  

Neville sensed my hesitation and spoke up.  "I wrote to my gran about what
happened to Collin, and she sent me this old bottle of mandrake draught from
our cellar.  I don't know if it's still good, but..."  

Neville's lie helped more than any half truth I could come up with would have,
as Madam Pomfrey thanked Neville and tested the draught on Mrs. Norris,
successfully reviving Filch's cat.  She let us see Collin as she administered
the draught to him.  

"Collin," asked Neville, "are you okay?"  

"Neville?" asked Collin.  "I think so.  What happened?  The last thing I
remember was this pair of yellow, slitted eyes."  

"You've been petrified, Collin," I said.  "Just like Mrs. Norris.  Can you
remember anything else about how it happened?"  

"I think I took a picture," said Collin.  "Where's my camera?"  

"Harry said he saw Dumbledore checking it," I replied.  "Whatever petrified you
melted the film too."  

                                     * * *


Neville agreed to pass along Collin's testimony to his fellow Gryffindors  I
let him know he didn't need to keep secrets from Harry, Ron, and Hermione,
since they already knew about my lab and my abilities.  Then I headed out to
find Sloth.  I found her outside running Loki around in circles to get some
exercise.  

"How'd the mandrake draught work out?" asked Sloth as I approached.  

"Wouldn't have gone half so well without Neville," I said.  "As things went,
Collin's cured.  All he remembers was a pair of yellow, slitted eyes."  

"More than we had to go on before," said Sloth.  "So it definitely is some sort
of creature.  Incidentally, they posted an announcement for a dueling club.  We
should sign up.  Learn hw to do a formal wizard duel."  

"Sounds like fun," I agreed.  "Thanks for keeping an eye on Loki while I was
working on the mandrakes with Neville."  

"I liked playing with Loki," said Sloth.  "He's such a good dog."  Sloth
ruffled his ears.  

"He is," I agreed, patting Loki's flank.  

                                     * * *


That evening, back in the Ravenclaw dormitory, I found Luna and told her what
Collin said.  

"Slitted eyes," mused Luna.  "That narrows it down a lot.  Limit it to magical
creatures with a lifespan over a thousand years, since it's supposed to be from
the founders' time.  And with the power of petrification."  

"Any specific suspect creatures?" I asked.  

"Unfortunately, the library isn't really organized by any of those clues."  

"We'll figure it out," I affirmed.  "We have one other clue.  Harry's heard the
Chamber of Secrets has been opened once before."  

"If we can find out more details about last time, we might be able to narrow it
down the rest of the way."  

"We'll work on it together.  Hermione knows the library better than anyone. 
Harry's good at putting clues together.  Actually, why don't we all head down
to the library together after the dueling club meeting?"  

"Dueling club?" asked Luna.  

"Sloth saw the posting for it.  You should come too."  

                                     * * *


Luna and I met up with Sloth, and the three of us went down to the Great Hall,
that had been set up for the dueling lessons.  Harry, Ron, Hermione, and
Neville were already there, chatting about who would be teaching.  

"Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young.  Maybe
it'll be him," speculated Hermione.  

"As long as it's not-ugh!" Harry groaned as Professor Lockheart and Snape
stepped in.  

Lockheart announced, "Gather round, gather round!  Can everyone see me?  Can
you all hear me?  Excellent!  

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little
dueling club to train you in case you ever need to defend yourselves, as I
myself have done on countless occasions.  For full details, see my published
works.  

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape.  He tells me he knows a tiny
little bit about dueling himself, and has sportingly agreed to help me with a
short demonstration before we begin.  Now, I don't want any of you youngsters
to worry.  You'll still have your potions master when I'm through with him. 
Never fear!"  

I overheard Ron muttering, "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other
off?"  

Lockheart and Snape went to opposite ends of the stage that had been set up and
bowed, Lockheart much deeper than Snape, who didn't take his eyes off his
opponent.  Then they raised their wands toward one another.  

Lockheart explained, "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted
combat position.  On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. 
Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."  

"I wouldn't bet on that," muttered Harry under his breath while the combatants
counted.  

On three, Snape's wand lanced out and a bolt of red light shot at Lockheart as
he called out, "Expelliarmus!"  Lockheart flew backward from the spell's impact
and impacted the far wall.  

"Do you think he's alright?" asked Hermione.  

"Who cares?" replied Harry and Ron together.  

Lockheart, displaying the usual wizard enhanced durability, got to his feet
saying, "Well, there you have it.  That was a disarming charm.  As you see,
I've lost my wand."  A student picked up Lockheart's dropped wand and returned
it to him.  "Ah, thank you Miss Brown.  Yes, an excellent idea to show them
that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious
what you were about to do.  If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been
only too easy.  However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see.  

"Enough demonstrating!  I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into
pairs.  Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me."  

I ended up facing Neville.  He smiled weakly at me and I gave him a nod as we
got into position.  

Lockheart called out, "Face your partners!  And bow!  Wands at the ready!  When
I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents.  Only to disarm
them.  We don't want any accidents.  One, two, three!"  

The transmutation circle inscribed along my wand flared with blue light for an
instant as Neville and I both shouted, "Expeliarmus!" simultaneously.  The red
bolt from his wand crossed paths with the blue bolt from mine as both attacks
hit home.  The two of us were blasted backwards, our wands flying from our
hands and our bodies ending up flat on our backs with the wind knocked out of
us.  We'd both more or less managed to duplicate Snape's spell on our first
try.  

Snape called out, "Finite Incantem!" and negated all active spells.  From the
look of the crowd, Neville and I must've been the only ones following
directions.  Harry and Draco had traded curses and charms of various
descriptions.  Hermione was in a headlock at the hands of her Slytherin
opponent Millicent Bulstrode.  

Harry leapt forward to pull Millicent off a Hermione that was whimpering in
pain.  I lent some muscle to the job, since she was a lot bigger than Harry,
Hermione, or myself. Lockheart was trying to sort out the aftermath of the
duels.  

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells.  Let's have a
volunteer pair.  Longbottom and Oren, how about you?"  

"A bad idea, Professor Lockheart," said Snape.  "Longbottom causes devastation
with the simplest spells.  We'll be sending what's left of Oren up to the
hospital wing in a matchbox.  How about Malfoy and Potter?"  

Neville looked embarrassed.  I was just annoyed.  We'd been the ones following
instructions.  And Neville certainly didn't need another blow to his confidence
wiping away that good first round between us.  

Lockheart just followed Snape's lead, declaring, "Excellent idea!  Now, Harry,
when Draco points his wand at you, you do this."  Halfway through his gesture,
Lockheart's wand slipped out of his hand and dropped to the floor.  "Whoops. 
My wand is a little overexcited."  

Harry tried to get proper instruction on blocking, but Lockheart was ignoring
him.  The duel was started anyway, and Draco's spell went off first.  

"Serpensortia!" yelled Draco as a long, black snake burst from the tip of his
wand, and fell to the floor between the two combatants.  The snake looked
agitated.  Meanwhile, I was sighing at the equivalency violation involved.  A
living thing conjured out of nothing.  It could be done with a red stone, but
it was just about the most taxing thing possible.  And that would be to
duplicate a second year's spell.  

"Don't move, Potter.  I'll get rid of it," said Snape.  

"Allow me!" yelled Lockheart, pointing his wand at the snake and launching it
into the air toward one of the Hufflepuff students.  When it landed, the snake
was angry enough to bite the first person it saw.  

Harry rushed toward the snake and started urgently hissing at it.  In response,
the snake calmed itself and laid down.  

"What do you think you're playing at?" shouted the Hufflepuff boy at Harry.  He
then turned on his heel and stormed out of the Great Hall.  

Everyone was staring at Harry, and a din of frightened muttering welled up from
the other students.  Ron grabbed Harry and rushed him out of the room.  I
followed after, with Sloth, Hermione, Luna, and Neville pulled along in the
wake.  We found an empty classroom before anyone explained anything.  

"You're a parselmouth?  Why didn't you tell us?" Ron asked Harry.  

"I'm a what?" asked Harry before I could.  

"A parselmouth!" said Ron overexcited.  "You can talk to snakes!"  

"I know," said Harry.  "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. 
I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once.  Long
story.  But it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it
free without meaning to.  That was before I knew I was a wizard."  

"Did it make it to Brazil?" asked Luna, conversationally.  

"I don't think so," said Harry.  "The zoo probably recaptured it.  Come to
think of it, Brazil's a long ways away.  I doubt it could get there without
help."  

"Harry, this is bad," said Ron.  

"What's bad?  I bet loads of people here can do it."  

"Oh, no they can't," corrected Ron.  "It's not a very common gift."  

"Like being a metamorphmagus," I guessed.  "Does this mean I can't learn to do
it too?"  

"Why would you want to?" snapped Ron.  

"My name is Greed," I pointed out.  "Why wouldn't you want to learn how to talk
to snakes?"  

"Right," added Harry.  "If I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin-"  

"Oh, that's what you said to it?" confirmed Ron.  

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.  "You were there.  You heard me."  

"You were speaking parseltongue," said Neville.  "It just sounded like you
hissing."  

"I spoke a different language?" asked Harry, confused.  "But I didn't realize- 
How can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"  

"Is it an actual language?" asked Sloth.   "That is, do the sounds he makes
when he talks convey the meaning, or is it a quasi-empathic communication power
that he just happens to hiss while using?"  

"It's a real language," confirmed Luna.  :It's what snakes use to talk to each
other."  

"Then that means we can learn it, and Harry's just got the ability naturally,"
I said happily.  

Ron, Hermione, and Neville were less than enthused.  

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off
Justin's head?" demanded Harry.  "What does it matter how I did it as long as
Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"  

"It matters because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was
famous for.  That's why the symbol of Slytherin house is a serpent," explained
Hermione.  

Ron nodded, "Exactly, and now the whole school's going to think you're his
great-great-great-great-grandson or something."  

"But I'm not," said Harry with panic in his voice.  

"You'll find that hard to prove," said Hermione.  "He lived about a thousand
years ago.  For all we know, you could be."  

"So what?" I asked.  "We know Harry isn't behind the attacks.  Sure, there'll
be rumors, but there were rumors before when he led us to the first attack.  I
don't see what this changes."  

"It changes everything," said Luna serenely.  "Now we know Slytherin's monster
is a snake.  It's why Harry was the only one who heard the voice."  

"Now we know what section of the library to start researching," I said,
pleased.  "And Harry, I do want to try and learn parseltongue.  If its as rare
as all that, having a language only we know has got to come in handy."  

"So, you want all of us to start wandering around the school hissing at each
other?" asked Harry.  "You do realize I don't want to look like a budding dark
lord, right?"  

But I had Hermione convinced, and she was already musing about applying what
she'd learned studying French to building a curriculum for learning snake
speech.  She wouldn't be easily distracted from the project.  

                                     * * *


In the library, the number of snakes with lifespans of over a thousand years
turned out to be somewhat larger than anticipated, and none of them were a
precise match for the evidence we had.  The closest creature was the basilisk. 
It was known as the King of Serpents, lived hundreds of years, and in addition
to its venomous fangs, attacked by locking eyes with its prey.  There was even
a mention of spiders fleeing from it, and Harry had noted unusual behavior by
spiders at the first crime scene.  

The only problem was that the basilisk's gaze killed,, rather than petrifying.
 

"Immature mandrakes don't kill with their screams," suggested Neville.  

"You think it's only petrifying people because it's a thousand year old baby?"
asked Ron, incredulously.  

Neville blushed and fell silent.  

"No, I think Neville might be right," said Harry.  "The basilisk kills people
by looking at them, but no one's dead because no one looked at it straight in
the eye.  Collin saw it through his camera.  The basilisk burned up all the
film inside it, but Collin just got petrified.  And Mrs. Norris, remember all
the water in the hall from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?  I bet you Mrs. Norris
saw the reflection."  

"In other words," I noted, "We've been really lucky no one's ended up dead. 
Coincidences like that can't keep happening indefinitely.  Next time, it
attacks..."  

"So we kill it before it kills us," said Sloth firmly.  "It says right here
that a rooster's crow is fatal to it."  

"How's it been getting around the school?" asked Ron.  "It can't shape shift or
turn invisible.  A giant snake, someone would've seen."  

"The pipes!" said Hermione.  "Harry's been hearing its voice in the plumbing. 
We dismissed what sounded like the pipes hissing.  We need to get a mirror to
look around corners with.  If we happen to see it that way, we'll end up
petrified rather than dead."  

"I've got a better idea," said Luna.  Pulling out some parchment and a quill,
she sketched out a set of plans.  "With these, we'll also be safe if it's the
basilisk that comes around a corner unexpectedly."  

Looking over Luna's plans, I grabbed some things from my shoulder bag, piled
them in the center of the table, and tapped my wand to them.  The array along
the wand glowed blue and the pile in the center of the table was transmuted
into several pairs of goggles fitted with a set of mirrors and lenses roughly
mimicking Collin's camera viewfinder.  Luna immediately took a pair and put
them on.  The lenses magnified her eyes in a peculiar way and looked rather
silly.  

"I don't know about this," said Ron, holding a pair of goggles looking dubious.
 

"If it keeps us alive," noted Neville, putting his on.  

"I think it's brilliant!" declared Harry, exchanging his glasses for the
goggles.  "No one'll think I'm Slytherin's heir wearing these."  

                                     * * *


Our theory about the basilisk wasn't universally accepted.  Half the people we
told thought we were trying to prank them.  Most of the other half had
competing theories about Slytherin's monster and protective charms that didn't
involve wearing doofy looking goggles.  As Ron had predicted, Harry's newly
revealed parseltongue abilities combined iwht the suspicious circumstances of
the first attack led many to conclude Harry was behind the attacks and
dismissed our warnings on those grounds.  Collin, the monster's first victim,
put on the goggles before we finished explaining our theory, partly out of
concern for his own safety, and partly as a show of faith and solidarity with
Harry.  

Hermione and I took turns playing wizard chess against Ron in a common area of
the school the next day.  A blizzard had hit and some classes had been canceled
as a result.  My alchemy empowered chessmen carved to resemble Amestrian
soldiers performed admirably against Ron's battered, veteran chess set.  I
still lost, but I and my chessmen were gaining experience.  

Harry'd been sent off to talk to Hagrid about the school roosters and setting
them up as a proactive defense against the basilisk.  While he was out, he
wanted to find Justin and explain that he had been telling the snake to stop.  

"There's been another attack," declared Sloth as she burst in.  "Justin and
Headless Nick were both petrified.  Neville gave them some mandrake draught in
the infirmary.  It looks like Justin met its gaze while looking through Nick. 
Nick got the full blast, but he was already dead.  

"Something's wrong," I mused.  "This can't just be another coincidence.  If
it's a basilisk, why hasn't anyone been killed?  Even if its gaze got
interrupted somehow, basilisks have venomous fangs."  

"Did either of them see anything new?" asked Hermione.  

"No," replied Sloth.  "Just the same yellow eyes Collin saw.  Trouble is,
Justin's fingered Harry anyway.  Apparently, he'd been expecting an attack
after what happened in the dueling club, and Peeves caught Harry at the scene. 
McGonagall took Harry to Dumbledore's office."  

"Hopefully, Dumbledore can get Justin to calm down and listen to reason," I
said.  

A short while later, Harry arrived, leading with, "The Heir's on to us.  He
killed the school roosters so the basilisk can't be stopped that way."  

"That's bad," I said.  

"Dumbledore believed you're not behind any of this, right?" asked Ron.  

"He told Hagrid he did when he came up to speak in my defense," said Harry.  

"Did Dumbledore have any useful theories?" I asked.  

"None that he felt like sharing," said Harry.  "I think he figureed I knew
something more."  

"Like why no one's dead," I suggested.  "Any ideas, Harry?"  

"No one's looked at it directly," he said.  

"But why not?" I pressed.  "It's like it's deliberately choosing targets and
situations that won'tbe fatal to its victims."  

"But why would it do that?" asked Hermione.  

"What if it's not supposed to kill anyone?" said Sloth.  "Salazar Slytherin
left it in the school, right?  He thought the muggleborns were going to betray
everyone, and he'd release the basilisk, stop the traitors, and return to the
school a hero.  Suppose his plan was to have the basilisk petrify the
muggleborns, then work out who was actually a traitor and who was loyal later. 
Petrified people can be restored, after all."  

"You think the guy who started the pureblood supremacy stuff trained his
monster to not kill muggleborns?" asked Ron skeptically.  

"If Slytherin was evil, why would Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff have
been friends with him?" I asked.  "Sure, they had a falling out, but it
apparently wasn't even bad enough for the other three to eliminate his House."
 

"I don't think we can really count on the basilisk being friendly," said
Hermione.  "Harry heard it hissing about ripping, tearing, and killing.  It
really might've just been luck the attacks didn't end up killing someone."  

"We don't really have anymore leads," said Harry.  

"In the meantime, I've been putting together the parseltongue lessons," said
Hermione.  "We can start over the Christmas holiday.  It looks as though most
everyone else is going home for it because of the attacks."  

"Hermione," said Ron, "how did you put together lessons when Harry's the only
one that can speak parseltongue?"  

"When you're learning a new language, you always start with a few specific
words you'll use in conversation, then you build vocabulary and syntax until
you know enough to start picking up new words on your own," explained
Hermione.  "I've worked out what words Harry needs to teach us and in what
order."  

"Um, Hermione," said Harry, "I've tried saying something in parseltongue, but
it doesn't work.  I think I need to be facing an actual snake to make it work."
 

"Don't worry," she said.  "Leave that to me."  

                                     * * *


Most of the school did, in fact, go home for the holiday.  On the first day of
the holiday, the seven of us gathered in an unused classroom, and set the desks
back up.  Luna, Neville, Ron, Sloth, and I took our seats in the front row
while Harry and Hermione stood at the front.  Hermione transfigured a small
glass terrarium on the teacher's desk.  

Writing a list of English words on the chalkboard, Hermione explained, "These
are some of the most commonly used words.  Harry is going to go over them one
at a time in parseltongue, and the rest of us will repeat.  Harry can tell us
if we're doing it right and correct our pronunciation."  

Harry read the first word on the board a few times aloud, but was seemingly
unable to make it come out in parseltongue.  

"That's okay, Harry," said Hermione.  "I've been giving this some thought. 
Serpensortia!"  A snake burst from her wand just like when Draco used the
spell, and fell into the terrarium.  Hermione then took her seat.  

With the snake there, Harry was able to produce parseltongue while looking at
it, and the lesson could begin.  There was a lot of trial and error that first
lesson.  Since Harry heard parseltongue in English, we only really knew when we
got it right.  It was very unlike any language I'd ever encountered, and it was
obvious the human mouth and throat weren't really capable of forming the sounds
perfectly.  Fortunately, once any of us successfully pronounced a word, that
person could help correct everyone else's pronunciation.  

The conjured snake faded away after a half hour, and it was generally agreed
that would define the length of our class sessions.  It would be a length we
could sustain after classes restarted.  We also made a conscious effort to use
parseltongue among ourselves when we were alone as much as possible to get
additional practice.  

Aside from the daily parseltongue lessons, the holiday at Hogwarts consisted of
good food, games, and more than a few snowball fights.  I trained Loki to use
his club like tail in his chimera form as a bat to launch the projectiles I set
up for him.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
I wanted to get Neville involved during first year, but it was only when his
skills at herbology were needed that I could really justify getting him in. 
Having more than one voice explaining the basic information the people raised
in the wizarding world would know helps spread the burden around a bit more,
and Neville really doesn't get enough chances to shine in the cannon.  With
Luna involved, it was never going to take that long to work out what sort of
creature they were dealing with.  With this chance to embrace his gifts, and
some alternate speculation about Salazar Slytherin's motives, Harry will be
able to get through this year with a lot less angst over nearly being sorted
into Slytherin house. 
***** Romantic Interlude 15 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 19) Romantic Interlude 15
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 20.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


After a particularly vicious snowball fight the first day of the holiday, when
the others went inside to warm up and dry off, Sloth and I headed down to our
lab under the Quidditch field.  

"The polyjuice should be done by Christmas morning," I said, assessing the
bubbling cauldron and stirring in some ingredients.  

"Red stones are still coming along," reported Sloth, dropping a handful of
finished ones into a half full barrel we were using to store them.  

"Hopefully the weather and Slytherin's defeat in their first match'll mean the
Quidditch practices can get back to a sane level," I said, warming my hands on
the flame under the cauldron.  

"Hopefully," agreed Sloth, "but there are no guarantees.  We should take
advantage of the opportunity while we have it."  

She hugged me from behind and her hands passed through the fabric of my robe to
caress the skin of my stomach.  By mutual understanding, we both dismissed our
clothes and reverted to our respective default appearances, shedding the
illusion that we were both twelve year olds worn for the sake of fitting in.  

"Who should I be today?" asked Sloth, brushing her lips against one of my butt
cheeks as her arms tried and failed to encircle my waist.  

"Like you said," I said with a smile as I took one of her arms and guided her
to the front of me, "we shouldn't waste this opportunity.  Other looks are nice
for variety, but for right now, I want to make love to the most beautiful girl
in the school, and she's standing right in front of me."  

I dropped to one knee and lifted Sloth off her feet with my hands on her butt. 
Our lips met and we slid our tongues into each others' mouths.  Sloth spread
her legs and wrapped them as best she could around my midsection while her arms
wrapped around my neck.  One of my hands continued to support her butt as my
other wandered up my lover's back to touch the oroboros mark on her shoulder
blade.  

As we kissed, I carried Sloth into our bedroom.  After a long delay, not
wanting to part, I laid her down on the bed.  Sloth moaned in pleasure as my
lips left hers and started kissing their way down her chest.  I paused to
suckle on one of her nipples and grope the other side of her flat chest with
one hand.  My other hand was busy caressing her smooth thigh.  

When I was satisfied with my diversion, I resumed kissing my way down her
chest, her belly, and finally her pubic mound.  I flicked my tongue between her
labia and ran my hands up and down Sloth's thighs.  With Sloth's hands on the
back of my head, guiding and encouraging me, I sucked lightly on her clit
before probing her vagina with my tongue.  

My hands drifted between her butt and her knees while I teased and probed at
Sloth's genitals with my tongue.  Her gasps and moans were my guide to whether
I was getting it right or not.  It wasn't long before I had her bucking and
grinding, thrusting her hips into my face.  Neither of us could get tired, and
we were both very used to taking advantage of that fact.  

Her orgasm came with a loss of muscle control.  Fortunately, I knew how she
liked to be touched and I kept licking and probing, holding on tight to her
butt with both hands as I went.  I didn't stop pleasuring her until she decided
to let her unnaturally prolonged climax cease, and she laid on her back
breathing heavily.  

"I've missed that taste," I told Sloth, licking my lips and swallowing some of
the fluids my efforts had coaxed out of her body.  

"You're not planning on stopping there, are you?" Sloth asked with a wry grin.
 

"No, but I'm in no condition to do much just now.  You've got me so turned on,
I might burst any minute.  Look."  I presented my erection.  It was slightly
painful from the built up pressure.  

"That looks serious," said Sloth.  "You'd best decide where all that semen's
going soon or you're going to hurt yourself."  

"I'll never get it inside you in time," I said, then rubbed the head of my
penis on the front of my lover's flat chest.  

As expected, ejaculate started spurting out almost immediately.  Using my
regenerative powers, I kept myself topped off as I continued to cover my
lover's upper body with cum.  The ribbons of sticky white fluid ran up and down
her small, narrow chest, and I'd completely covered her chest in two layers
before I pointed my still spurting penis up towards her head.  

Sloth opened her mouth wide and held out her tongue, and I tried to hit the
target as my own unnaturally long orgasm continued.  Enough ejaculate ended up
in her mouth to cover her tongue, while what missed splattered over her nose,
her chin, and practically soaked her black bangs.  Ultimately, I let the
experience end.  

Curling her tongue into her mouth, Sloth slowly and deliberately swallowed
while keeping her eyes locked on mine.  "I feel so sexy with your sperm all
over me.  The only thing that could be better is also having it in here." 
Sloth slowly ran a hand down to her crotch and spread her labia opened.  

In a homunculus body, a refractory period is optional, so I had no difficulty
with becoming hard again at seeing her behavior.  With the hand that wasn't
holding her labia opened, Sloth was absentmindedly rubbing her chest and
smearing the cum down her stomach.  

I pressed my erect penis into Sloth's tight, prepubescent vagina with some
force.  I knew how much force she could comfortably take, and everything about
Sloth's body language said she wasn't interested in a drawn out penetration. 
Once I'd reached my maximum depth, with half of my penis inside her vagina, I
gathered the girl up in my arms and embraced her.  

Sloth's lips found the oroboros mark in the center of my chest, and the rest of
her soaking and sticky body pressed firmly against mine.  Her wet hands wrapped
around my sides, holding us together.  I groaned with pleasure as our mutual
motions saw my erection pulled this way and that as my lover's tight vagina
held it fast.  

Finally, Sloth's lips stopped their light kisses as her body tensed.  Vaginal
contractions rhythmically squeezed my penis and pushed me over the edge into my
second orgasm.  Pressing our naked and sticky bodies together, I let the
surging sensation of my sperm filling her vagina continue for as long as she
held her orgasm.  When she finally relented, I let myself run dry, then I
rolled onto my back beside her.  The sound of us peeling our bodies apart
provoked giggles from both of us.  

"It's nice to see you taking full advantage of how easily we can both clean up,
Greed," said Sloth happily.  

"I didn't want to stop considering how long it's been since we've had time to
be properly alone together," I replied.  

"Like you said earlier, hopefully things will calm down and we can get back on
a reasonable schedule," said Sloth.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Familiarity isn't a bad thing. 
***** Preparing for the Confrontation *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 20) Preparing for the
Confrontation
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Lockheart's failure of a dueling lesson had been the only one the dueling club
had.  It seemed that Lockheart intended to let the organization die of apathy
and put the experience behind him.  The Christmas holiday presented me with an
oportunity to see if I could do something about that.  

"Professor Flitwick," I said, greeting my head of house, "I hope you're having
a pleasant holiday."  

"Greed, how are you?  With the attacks lately, the school's quieter than I can
ever remember it around this time of year.  I certainly don't want to ruin your
good cheer, but I think I'd feel a bit better if the twins pulled something to
make a racket," replied the diminutive professor.  

I laughed and said, "I'll see what I can talk them into.  Actually, the attacks
are what I wanted to talk to you about.  Did you know Professor Lockheart
started a dueling club?"  

"Yes.  He talked to Dumbledore about it, and didn't say a word to me until all
the arrangements were made.  Just as well, really.  I get enough of that man
pretending he knows more about everyone's specialty than they do.  Better Snape
than me being involved in that mess."  

"The thing is," I said, "Professor Lockheart's abandoned the lessons.  With
someone directing Slytherin's monster to attack the students and Voldemort
wanting to kill Harry-"

"Don't say his name," said Professor Flitwick.  "I know Dumbledore encourages
it, but Dumbledore's the only wizard You-Know-Who ever feared.  What's
reasonable and safe for Professor Dumbledore isn't the same as what's
reasonable and safe for the rest of us."  

"Okay," I said, not wanting an argument.  "But the point is, a dueling club was
actually a good idea, especially with what Harry's bound to have to deal with
one day.  I've heard you used to be a dueling champion.  Do you think you could
pick up where Professor Lockheart left off?  Please."  

"Well," mused Flitwick, "I suppose if Gilderoy really has lost interest I could
take a look at you lot.  Make sure you haven't ended up taking in the wrong
lessons."  

"Thank you, Professor," I said.  

"After the holidays, when everyone's back," said Professor Flitwick, affirming
his decision to himself with a nod.  "And don't forget to tell the Weasley
twins to make a bit more noise," added Flitwick with a wink.  

                                     * * *


Fred and George didn't need much encouragement and partially transfigured a
hundred or more white mice into bells.  The result was brass colored mice
running all over the school jingling as they went.  

Christmas morning dawned with my packages containing invisibility cloaks for
Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna, Harry's new broomstick, and Dumbledore's ten
pair of thick, wool socks whisked away to the rooms of their respective
recipients and replaced with a stack of packages addressed to me.  

Between the sweets and books from our wizard friends, one item that stood out
was a small vial of wet pencil shavings and a card with a transmutation circle
on it.  Curious, I dumped the vial's contents onto the card and activated the
circle.  It glowed blue for an instant, and the material had transmuted into a
moist, sweet cake with the words, "Merry Christmas, Greed" drawn on top in
brightly colored frosting.  It used everything I'd taught Ron so far, and it
made a very tasty cake when I tried it.  

"These are expensive," said Luna when I came down to the common room that
morning.  She was staring at her new invisibility cloak.  

"It's more convenient than having everyone crowded under one cloak," I said
with a shrug.  "Besides, I can make gold, remember.  It's no hardship for me to
buy them."  

Down at breakfast, Harry thanked me for the new broom, and tried to offer his
old one to Ron.  Smirking, Ron refused, noting that he was an alchemist himself
now, and could buy his own top of the line racing broom.  He suggested Harry
give his old broom to the Gryffindor team to be used by whoever needed it most.
 

A general aura of goodwill and cheer permeated the school.  Draco and his
cronies were jerks as usual, making fun of the traditional Weasley sweaters,
but no one was particularly bothered, and all wrote him off as insignificant. 
At our parselmouth lessons, I brought the nearly complete Polyjuice.  We added
one of Harry's hairs to the brew and all drank.  

I could feel my body rearranging itself, inside and out.  It resembled the
feeling I got when the organs and tissues of my homunculus body first migrated
to their proper place, only far less painful.  In fact, there was no pain at
all.  The first thing I noticed was that my vision had gone blurry.  

I tapped my wand to the side of my goggles, transmuting them to account for the
prescription of Harry's glasses, and everything came into focus.  The other
Harrys were distinguishable by their clothing and mannerisms.  A quick
experiment showed we'd gotten Harry's bad eyesight, but not his intuitive
ability to speak to snakes.  

Sloth and I borrowed wands and tried half a dozen times to invoke a simple
spell, but no matter how much advice we got or how many tries, it was as futile
as waving a regular stick.  Polyjuice wasn't the key to gaining magic of my
own.  That established, we resumed the parseltongue lessons.  

After the day's lesson, Sloth and I further established that our homunculus
abilities, enhanced strength, regeneration, shape shifting, and Sloth's
intangibility also failed to function until the potion wore off and we returned
to our true forms.  Effectively, polyjuice was worse than useless to us.  

                                     * * *


True to his word, the dueling club resumed at the start of the term with
Professor Flitwick replacing Professor Lockheart.  Professor Snape continued to
offer assistance.  Lockheart was prevented from returning by Flitwick offering
numerous reminders of how valuable his time was and reassuring him that he'd
already communicated the basics and that he could take it from here.  

It didn't stop Lockheart's actual defense classes from being utterly useless,
but between Flitwick and Snape, we got actual instruction on how to duel. 
Harry demonstrated a natural knack for dueling, and Draco had some prior
instruction.  As a result, both of them split their time between sparring with
each other and being paired with weaker duelists.  Harry really shined in an
instructional role, quickly sussing out where his partner was weak and how to
best improve.  

For me, the main problem was speed and focus.  Since most of the dueling hexes
were one form or another of human transmutation, and I had to mimic the wand
motions and incantations even as I performed the alchemy to duplicate the
effect, my casting times were abysmal, letting my opponent get their spell off
first nine times out of ten.  I was put through some drills to sharpen my times
and make the words and motions come more quickly and effortlessly to mind.  I
resolved to perform similar repetitive drills on my other spells because of
just how much easier the dueling spells had become to perform quickly.  

Our extra curicular parseltongue lessons continued as well.  In one notable
lesson Harry designed, breaking from Hermione's curriculum of conversation
practice, we each took turns guiding a snake through a maze, giving it
parseltongue instructions on when to turn and which way.  After that lesson, we
all headed back toward our dorms, but stopped when we heard Filch yelling
angrily.  

Concerned there might have been another attack, we followed the sound of his
voice to the corridor outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where the initial
attack on Mrs. Norris had taken place.  Water was flooding out from under the
door again and Filch was livid.  

After Filch stormed off muttering, Ron asked, "Now, what's up with her?"  

"Let's go and see," said Harry, reaching for the door.  

"Harry!" said Neville, blushing bright red but grabbing hold of his arm just
the same.  "You can' go in there.  That's a girls' bathroom."  

"Oh, it's alright, Neville," placated Hermione.  "This is Moaning Myrtle's
toilet.  It's out of order because she's almost always throwing fits and
flooding it.  Even when she hasn't done that, no one actually uses this
bathroom if they can help it."  She pushed Neville aside and went in.  

Luna and Sloth followed, with Harry and Ron darting by right after.  I put a
hand on Neville's shoulder and said, "If it makes you feel any better, I can
look like this."  Then I used my shape shifting abilities to change gender,
growing my brown, spiked hair out until it hung down my back, shifting my
facial features slightly, and developing small breasts appropriate for my
apparent age.  Then I walked in after.  Neville sighed and followed.  

"You make a pretty girl," said Sloth when I'd entered, smirking with amusement.
 

Harry approached Myrtle's stall and spoke up.  "What's up, Myrtle?"  

"Who's that?  Come to throw something else at me?" asked the haunted toilet.  

"Why would I throw something at you?" asked Harry.  

"Don't ask me," yelled the miserable specter of a dead thirteen year old girl
as she emerged from the toilet.  "Here I am, minding my own business, and
someone thinks it;s funny to throw a book at me."  

I glanced around the room and noticed a small, thin book lying near Neville's
feet.  He'd noticed it too, but made no move to reach for it, instead returning
his attention to Myrtle and Harry's conversation.  

"But it can't possibly hurt you if someone throws something at you," said
Harry.  "I mean, it'd just go through you."  

Myrtle was not impressed with Harry's reasoning and wailed, "Let's all throw
books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it!  Ten points if it goes through her
head!  Well, ha, ha, ha!  What a lovely game, I don't think!"  

In a show of solidarity with Myrtle on this point, Sloth balled up a fist and
swung a hard backhand towards Harry's face.  Harry flinched as Sloth's hand
passed harmlessly through Harry's head.  That seemed to cheer Myrtle somewhat.
 

Slightly cowed, Harry asked, "Who threw it at you, anyway?"  

"I don't know," replied Myrtle.  "I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking
about death, and it fell right through the top of my head.  It's over there. 
It got washed out."

Harry reached for the dripping wet book, but Ron stopped him, holding up a
restraining arm to bar his path.  

"What?" asked Harry.  

"Are you crazy?  It could be dangerous," said Ron.  

Harry laughed.  "Dangerous?  Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"  

"You'd be surprised," said Ron gravely.  "Some of the books the Ministry's
confiscated.  Dad told me.  There was one that burned y our eyes out.  And
everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of
their lives.  And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop
reading.  You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do
everything one handed."  

"And don't forget how innocuous that coin I gave you looks," I interjected. 
"How do we check it to be sure it's safe?"  

None of us having an answer to that, we just stared at the soaked book for a
long moment.  

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," said Harry, ducking around Ron
and snatching up the book.  "T. M. Riddle," said Harry, reading a name off the
first page of what proved to be a diary.  

"Hang on, I know that name," said Ron.  "T. M. Riddle got an award for special
services to the school fifty years ago."  

"How on earth do you know that?" asked Harry.  

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention.  That
was the one I burped slugs all over.  If you'd wiped slime off a name for an
hour, you'd remember it too."  

I looked sheepish.  It'd been my fault his curse backfired.  If I'd been more
focused on getting him a good wand and less focused on my curiosity over
whether I could make a working wand, it never would have happened.  Still
feeling guilty, I tapped the diary with my wand and evaporated away all the
water drenching its pages.  Harry turned a page.  

"He never wrote in it," reported Harry.  

"Or maybe he did," noted Hermione.  "It might be invisible ink.  Aparecium!"
she tapped her wand on the diary thrice to no effect.  

Harry lookeda t the back, reporting, "He must've been muggle born to have
bought a diary from Vauxhall Road."  

Hermione produced a bright red eraser from her bag.  "It's a revealer.  I got
it in Diagon Alley."  She rubbed it on the first page, again to no effect.  

"Well, it's not much use," said Ron.  Then lowering his voice, "Fifty points if
you can get it through Myrtle's nose."  

I slapped him on the back of his head.  "Don't be a jerk."  

"Why did someone try to chuck this?" asked Harry rhetorically.  "I wouldn't
mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either."
 

"Could've been anything," said Ron.  "Maybe he got thirty OWLS or saved a
teacher from the giant squid."  Again dropping his voice, "Maybe he murdered
Myrtle.  That would've done everyone a favor."  

He hadn't dropped it low enough, and Myrtle screamed in rage and shot down into
her toilet.  An instant later, water spouted up all of them as though there'd
been an explosion in the pipes.  We all fled the bathroom.  

"Pull something like that again and you can forget about ever learning a bit of
alchemy from me ever again!" I yelled at Ron when we were well away from the
flooding corridor.  

"You're taking her side?" demanded Ron, incredulously.  "She just tried to
drown us!"  

"You told her everyone's better off with her dead, and you were chucking about
her being murdered," I shot back.  "You know how sensitive she is.  De you even
know how she died?  For all we know, she could've been murdered!"  I stormed
off angrily, with Sloth and Luna following.  Neville didn't look sure whether
to come with us or stick with his fellow Gryffindors.  

                                     * * *


"Ron went back and apologized to Myrtle," reported Neville the next day as we
waited for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to show up for the parseltongue lessons.  

"Did she apologize back for overreacting?" asked Luna curiously.  

"No, she accused him of trying to make fun of her," replied Neville.  

"The important thing is he tried," I said.  "Now she's the unreasonable one
again.  I didn't like the idea I was passing on my knowledge and power to a
bully."  

"Myrtle's going to keep getting people picking on her as long as she keeps
reacting like this," noted Sloth.  

"Maybe, but it shouldn't be people I call friends picking on her," I replied.  

"I'm just saying if you really want to hel Myrtle, it'll take more than
knocking some sense into Ron," said Sloth.  

"Ron," I said when he, Harry, and Hermione entered, "thanks for trying to
apologize to Myrtle."  

"I didn't do it because you said to," said Ron firmly.  He took his seat and
pointedly avoided making eye contact with me.  

"I'm glad to hear that," I said, elciting looks of surprise from everyone but
Sloth and Luna.  "If you did it because I made you, it wouldn't mean much, so
I'm glad you chose to try and apologize because it was your choice.  I'm sorry
I threatened to cut you off.  It's just, you already know how to make a circle
that turns all the oxygen in the school to carbon monoxide and kill everyone
here.  Alchemic knowledge just gets more dangerous from here in the wrong
hands."  

"Yeah, I get it," said Ron awkwardly.  "Can we just get back to our lessons?"  

"Speaking of which," noted Luna, "shouldn't you have said all that in
parseltongue?"  

                                     * * *


Between dueling club, parseltongue lessons, and his continuing alchemy lessons,
Ron and I had little opportunity to be awkward with one another, so we were
forced to put the argument behind us quickly.  Ron was placated immensely by me
mentioning that Myrtle wasn't behaving well with her constant temper tantrums
and refusing to accept apologies.  

Harry continued to hold on to the diary and seemed sure it was important, but
couldn't properly articulate why.  Neville and I made a large stockpile of
mandrake draught in case of future attacks, but they seemed to have stopped. 
Presumably the heir figured out how ineffectual the attacks had proven with a
ready supply of mandrake draught.  Lockheart, of course, was claiming credit
for stopping the attacks himself.  

The Gryffindor Quidditch practices continued at the deranged pace set by their
captain, Olliver Wood, meaning that virtually every moment Harry wasn't with
us, he was out on the field, making it impossible to slip into the lab long
enough to do more than change out the red water tanks and collect red stones.  

One day, in mid February, I came down to breakfast to find the Great Hall
decorated with massive pink flowers, likely the product of an engorgement
charm, and heart shaped confetti raining down from the ceiling, getting all
over the food.  At the head table, Professor Lockheart rose to make an
announcement.  

"Happy Valentine's Day, and may I thank the forty six people who have so far
sent me cards!  Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise
for you all, and it doesn't end here!"  

At Lockheart's signal, a dozen dwarves wearing golden wings and carrying harps
trudged heavily into the Great Hall.  They carried themselves more like
mercenaries than costumed performers.  Lockheart explained, "My friendly card
carrying cupids!  They will be roving around the school today delivering your
valentines!  And the fun doesn't stop there!  I'm sure my colleagues will want
to enter into the spirit of the occasion!  Why not ask Professor Snape to show
you how to whip up a Love Potion?  And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick
knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly
old dog!"  

I don't think I'd ever seen Professor Snape look more murderous than when I
approached him on his way out of the Great Hall.  

"Professor Snape," I said worriedly, "about what Professor Lockehart said at
breakfast... Love Potions..."  Snape's teeth gritted together, and his wand
hand clenched into a fist.  I continued, "There's an antidote, right?"  Snape
blinked then relaxed.  A small smirk found its way to his lips.  

"Why yes, Mr. Oren, there is," replied Professor Snape.  "Am I to presume you
wish to learn how to brew one?"  

"Yes.  Please, Professor," I replied.  My fears of having my own mind and heart
usurped combined with my certainty that Sloth didn't deserve to have something
like that happen again pushed to the surface of my mind, where Snape could read
them with crystal clarity were he so inclined.  

After a long moment, Snape replied, "Very well, follow me."  He led me down to
the dungeons where the potions classroom was and wrote a recipe on the
chalkboard.  

                                     * * *


That day, Lcokehart's dwarves jammed a number of valentines day cards into my
hands.  Only the card from Sloth was signed.  The others were from secret
admirers.  Sloth's card had an incomplete transmutation circle in its center. 
The text read, "Open it up in private.  Love, Sloth."  

Finding a private moment between classes, I took out my quill and finished
drawing the transmutation circle in, then I activated it.  The card
disintegrated, leaving behind an oval shaped wizard photograph that had been
hidden inside.  The photograph was of Sloth dressed in a cupid costume.  She
wore it better than Lockheart's dwarves did.  Holding up a bow, she drew back
an arrow with a heart shaped head from a quiver and shot it at the camera.  

I smiled and returned to my room.  Opening my trunk, I retrieved the locket
she'd given me for Christmas the previous year, and replaced the photograph
inside it with this new one.  I put the closed locket around my neck and went
to find Sloth.  

When I found her, she was holding up a rose tinted glass bottle with a
transmutation circle etched into its base and the words, "Know always that our
love is true, Greed" inscribed on the front.  

"I see my gift was a bit more self-explanatory," said Sloth when she saw me
wearing her locket.  

"It's a love potion antidote," I explained.  "I asked Professor Snape for the
recipe this morning."  

"And this?" she asked, tipping the bottle so the transmutation circle on the
bottom faced me.  

"It's a promise," I said, touching the circle and activating it.  The bottle
glowed blue and the words rearranged themselves into the recipe for the love
potion antidote.  "We'll get you your own soul and you'll be able to use this
circle to change the words on the bottle back and forth whenever you want."  

We shared one last kiss before we had to go back to our separate dorms for the
evening.  All in all, despite the dwarves, the holiday had been a success.  

                                     * * *


The next day, we learned Harry had learned the secret of Riddle's diary.  A
copy of Tom Marvolo Riddle's consciousness and memories was magically preserved
in its pages.  Riddle had shown Harry the actions which earned him his reward
for special services to the school.  

"We were wrong," explained Harry.  "About the basilisk, about Slytherin's
monster not wanting to kill anyone, and about who opened the Chamber last
time."  

Harry recounted in detail what he'd seen in the memory.  The previous opening
had happened fifty years ago.  A girl had died, and the headmaster at the time
was considering closing the school.  Faced with the prospect of being sent to
live out the rest of his life in a muggle orphanage, the half blood Tom Riddle
went to confront the source of the attacks.  Rhubeus Hagrid.  Hagrid denied
that the giant spider he was protecting ever killed anyone and fought Riddle to
give it a chance to get away.  

"I don't buy it," I said when Harry finished his account.  

"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," said Harry, "and the attacks must've
stopped after Hagrid was kicked out.  Otherwise, Riddle wouldn't have got his
award."  

"Hagrid does have a habit of underestimating how dangerous some creatures can
be," said Sloth.  "Remember Norbert?"  

"Who's Norbert?" asked Neville.  

"A baby dragon we helped babysit last year," I said.  

"Draco was telling the truth about that?" asked Neville, floored.  

"Norbert didn't hurt anybody," said Ron, pointedly ignoring the venomous bite
he'd taken to his and in his zeal to defend Hagrid.  

"It can't be a spider this time," said Luna.  "They don't have slitted yellow
eyes like all the victims saw."  

I nodded in agreement.  "I still think a basilisk makes the most sense."  

"Even so," said Sloth, "we need to talk to Hagrid.  Confirm what happened and
get his side of the story."  

"That'd be a cheerful visit," said Ron sarcastically.  "'Hello, Hagrid.  Tell
us, have you been setting anything bad and hairy loose on the castle lately?'"
 

"The attacks have stopped," noted Hermione.  "Maybe whoever's behind this
really has given up.  Do we have to dredge up bad memories of Hagrid's
expulsion if no one else is attacked?"  

"He's already thinking about it," said Luna.  "He knows why he was expelled,
and he knows what's been going on lately.  We won't be bringing up anything he
doesn't already have on his mind."  

                                     * * *


So, we all went down to speak with Hagrid at his hut.  Loki trotted along at my
side.  Hagrid looked miserable when we arrived, but put on a genial smile and
offered us some tea.  Luna tactlessly broke the ice.  

"We know why you were expelled."  

Hagrid fumbled his tea pot and looked up nervously.  "Excuse me?"  

"We don't believe you had anything to do with the attacks, this time or last
time," Hermione rushed to clarify.  "We just wanted to hear your story about
what happened last time."  

Hagrid sighed and took a seat.  "It wasn't much different from this time. 
Students were being attacked and left petrified.  I got blamed for it, on
account of my being..."  He trailed off.  

"Half giant?" guessed Luna.  

"You know?" he asked, surprised.  She nodded.  

"What about the creature you were hiding?" asked Harry.  

"Aragog never hurt no one," affirmed Hagrid.  "He couldn't have if he'd wanted
to.  I kept him in a cupboard and didn't let him out until the night I was
expelled."  

"Do you know what did kill that girl?" asked Harry.  

Hagrid shook his head.  "No.  That is to say, I never found out.  I think
Aragog knew, but I could never get him to tell me.  Too scared of whatever it
was."  

"Wait, this giant spider can talk?" demanded Ron.  

"Of course he can talk," said Hagrid.  "Acromantula are smarter than most
people you'll meet."  

"Can?" asked Luna.  "Aragog is still around?  Can we meet him?"  

"I'd like to introduce you," said Hagrid, "but the colony doesn't really like
people coming around."  

Luna was visibly disappointed.  

"Hopefully the attacks have stopped for good," noted Harry.  "But just in case,
you should take these."  He pulled out a set of goggles sized for Hagrid.  

"I've been meaning to ask," said Hagrid, accepting the headgear, "what's the
idea with these?"  

"We think the monster's a basilisk," said Neville.  "If you see its eyes
directly, you die, but these have mirrors in them so you'll only get
petrified.  We think your roosters got killed to protect the basilisk from
their crow."  

"That makes sense," said Hagrid, scratching his beard.  

                                     * * *


With no further attacks, the most stressful part of the Easter holiday was
picking out our classes for next year.  We needed to select a minimum of two
electives out of Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy,
Divination, and Muggle Studies.  We didn't have much more than the names and
the advice of our seniors to go on.  

Sloth thought I was crazy for signing up for all five electives.  I wouldn't
have a free moment with all those classes plus the homework, she argued.  I
responded that I might never get another chance to study these subjects, and I
didn't want to miss my chance.  Sloth signed up for Care of Magical Creatures
and Divination, since those seemed like the two classes with the most practical
applications.  That, and those were the classes Harry and Ron signed up for.  

                                     * * *


On the Saturday morning of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and
Hufflepuff, Harry caught us before breakfast and hissed in parseltongue that
someone had gotten into his room and stolen Riddle's diary.  Having been in the
Gryffindor dorm, that narrowed the list of potential suspects considerably.  I
pondered this latest mystery at breakfast, hissing with Luna in parseltongue
and making the other Ravenclaws nervous.  Not that it mattered, since they
already didn't like us.  

"If they got into Harry's trunk without alarms sounding, it has to have been a
Gryffindor boy," I hissed.  

"It obviously isn't Neville or Ron," Luna hissed back.  "Whoever it was is
probably the person who tried to flush it in the first place."  

Our improving command of parseltongue afforded us another advantage that day. 
As we left the Great Hall, we recognized the voice Harry had talked about.  

"Kill this time.  Let me rip, tear."  

Harry was expected on the Quidditch field, but the rest of us, having heard the
voice (and confirmed it was parseltongue and Harry wasn't crazy) followed the
voice and investigated.  As a group, we sprinted through the corridors. 
Rounding a corner, I caught sight of a pair of yellow, slitted eyes.  The next
thing I knew, I was waking up i the infirmary along with Ron, Neville,
Hermione, Luna, Sloth, and nearly half a dozen other students.  It looked as
though everyone who'd been petrified this time were people wearing the mirrored
goggles we had been advocating for.  

The Quidditch match had been canceled, and Luna and I were sent immediately
back to Ravenclaw tower where Professor Flitwick was waiting to make an
announcement.  

"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the
evening.  No student is to leave the dormitories after that time.  You will be
escorted to each lesson by a teacher.  No student is to use the bathroom
unaccompanied by a teacher.  All further Quidditch training and matches are to
be postponed.  There will be no more evening activities."  

Professor Flitwick closed the scroll he was reading from and added, "This last
mass attack of nearly a dozen students has exhausted the supply of mandrake
draught that had been fortuitously donated by the Longbottom family.  The
school staff are taking this recent escalation seriously, and if the culprit
cannot be identified, we may have no choice but to close the school for
everybody's safety."  

"We need to go see Hagrid," I hissed to Luna.  "Aragog knows something more,
and we need to know what."  

"After everyone else is in bed, we'll get our invisibility cloaks," she agreed,
sticking to parseltongue in a low voice.  

                                     * * *


As it turned out, we weren't the only ones with that idea.  Harry, Ron,
Hermione, and Neville had all headed out under their invisibility cloaks, and
we bumped into them right outside Hagrid's door.  Sloth was already inside
Hagrid's hut.  

The groundskeeper answered his door with a crossbow in hand, though he lowered
it when he saw who was there.  

"What're you lot doing here?" he asked after we were all inside.  Hagrid seemed
extremely nervous.  

"It's about Aragog," started Harry when a knock came at the door.  We quickly
got under our cloaks when Hagrid went to answer.  

Dumbledore entered, followed by a grey haired man in a grey, striped suit, red
tie, black cloak, purple boots, and a green bowler hat.  

"That's dad's boss," whispered Ron in parseltongue.  "Cornelius Fudge, the
Minister of Magic."  The proper names were in English, and someone nudged Ron
into silence.  

Fudge declared, "Bad business, Hagrid.  Very bad business.  Had to come.  Four
attacks, and now almost a dozen at once.  Things've gone far enough. 
Ministry's got to act."  

"I never," stuttered Hagrid.  "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir-"  

"I want it understood, Cornelius," said Dumbledore with a hard edge in his
voice, "that Hagrid has my full confidence."  

"Look, Albus," said Fudge almost apologetically, "Hagrid's record's against
him.  Ministry's got to do something.  The school governors have been in
touch."  

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the
slightest," said Dumbledore firmly.  

"Look at it from my point of view," Fudge practically begged.  "I'm under a lot
of pressure.  Got to be seen to be doing something.  If it turns out it wasn't
Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said.  But I've got to take him.  Got to. 
Wouldn't be doing my duty-"  

"Take me?  Take me where?" asked Hagrid, showing genuine fear.  This from a man
who thought dragons were cuddly.  

Fudge stared at his pointed boots as he said, "For a short stretch only.  Not a
punishment, Hagrid.  More a precaution.  If someone else is caught, you'll be
let out with a full apology."  

"Not Azkaban?" gasped Hagrid in horror.  

Another knock at the door interrupted.  It was Lucius Malfoy.  

"Already here, Fudge?  Good, good."  

"What're you doing here?  Get out of my house," said Hagrid, his fear turning
to outrage and anger.  

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside
your-er-do you call this a house?  I simply called at the school and was told
that the headmaster was here."  

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" asked Dumbledore.  

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore, but the governors feel it's time for you to step
aside."  He produced a scroll from a jacket pocket.  "This is an order of
suspension.  You'll find all twelve signatures on it.  I'm afraid we feel
you're losing your touch.  How many attacks have there been now?  Eleven more
this afternoon, wasn't it?  At this rate, there'll be no muggleborns left at
Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."  

"Oh, now see here, Lucius," objected Fudge.  "Dumbledore suspended?  No, no. 
Last thing we want just now-"  

"The appointment or suspension of the headmaster is a matter for the governors,
Fudge," said Malfoy, "and as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks-"  

"See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them... I mean to say, who can?"
begged Fudge pathetically.  There was something fundamentally alien to me about
a government system where the head of state couldn't overrule a school board,
but that was apparently a thing in this world.  

"That remains to be seen," replied Lucius, "but as all twelve of us have voted-
"  

"And how many did you have to threaten and blackmail before they agreed,
Malfoy, eh?" demanded Hagrid furiously.  

"Dear, dear, you know that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of
these days.  I would advise you not shout at the Azkaban guards like that. 
They won't like it at all," replied Lucius Malfoy smugly.  

"You can't take Dumbledore away!  Take him away and the muggleborns won't stand
a chance!  There'll be killing next!" yelled Hagrid manicly.  

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," snapped Dumbledore, saving Hagrid from looking any
more deranged than he already did.  "If the governors want my removal, Lucius,
I shall, of course, step aside."  Fudge and Hagrid both made to protest, but
Dumbledore kept talking.  "However, you will find that I will only truly have
left the school when none here are loyal to me.  You will also find that help
will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."  Dumbledore subtly,
but meaningfully looked at our hidden group when he said that.  He must've
heard something and put the pieces together.  

Malfoy drolled, "Admirable sentiments.  We shall all miss your, er, highly
individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will
manage to prevent any, ah, 'killins'."  The last word was a snide parody of
Hagrid's accent.  

As the entire group moved to leave, Hagrid stopped and took a steadying
breath.  "If anyone wanted to find out some stuff, all they'd have to do would
be to follow the spiders.  That'd lead them right.  That's all I'm saying.  All
right, I'm coming."  At the door, he paused again and loudly declared, "And
someone'll need to feed Fang while I'm away."  

"Follow the spiders!  Directions to Aragog?" I guessed, taking off my
invisibility cloak when they'd left.  

"Probably," said Harry.  "I want to know who Dumbledore thinks we should ask
for help."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Not talking to Hagrid in the original didn't make much sense to me.  He didn't
have much useful information, but it was so obvious a step that there was no
good reason to just accept Riddle's story without even trying to get
confirmation. 
***** Defeating the Monsters *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 21) Defeating the Monsters
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


The following weeks saw no further attacks, but at this point, no one was
letting their guard down.  I kept an eye out for any spiders to follow, and
consulted with Luna in the Ravenclaw common room nightly, but the added
security, canceled evening activities, and class to class escorting mean I
didn't get much chance to check in with Sloth or the Gryffindors.  Luna and I
conjured snakes in the common room to continue to at least try to keep up with
our parseltongue lessons on our own.  It was slow going, but there was little
else to do.  

One day, a note made its way into my hands through a series of student
couriers.  It was written in code.  Alchemists routinely encrypt our research
notes so our secrets don't fall into the wrong hands.  Sloth and I had taught a
cypher to Ron as part of his alchemy training.  Once decoded, the note
indicated Ron had seen spiders heading for the forbidden forest, and that he,
Harry, Hermione, and Neville were going to check it out tonight.  The note
added that he'd feel a lot better about that plan if I brought Loki.  

"We meet at Hagrid's hut tonight," I hissed to Luna after I'd read the note.  

Hagrid's dog Fang greeted us excitedly when we arrived.  

"Greed, you got Ron's note," said Sloth when we opened the door.  She ran up
and hugged me.  

Embracing Sloth in turn, I said, "Those security precautions have been
intolerable.  The only people I can spend any time with are my housemates.  No
offense, Luna."  

"Not to mention, I've had to try to keep up on elemental transmutation on my
own," said Ron, dropping his cloak as he entered with Harry, Neville, and
Hermione.  

"And don't forget the parseltongue lessons," added Sloth, breaking our embrace.
 

"Hopefully, that ends tonight," said Harry.  "The acromantula colony's
somewhere in the forbidden forest.  Once we find out what Aragog knows,
hopefully, that'll be enough to stop the attacks for good."  

The seven of us gathered up fang and Loki, incited our wands to illuminate our
path with a "Lumos!" incantation, and entered the forest.  The last time,
Hagrid had said there was nothing in the forest that would hurt us if Fang was
there.  Admittedly, he'd been wrong then, since Voldemort had been in the
forest, but hopefully this time it would hold true.  

After some searching, we managed to find a line of spiders traveling in an
unnaturally straight line.  I made a note of the vector and went to follow.  We
followed for an hour, leaving the path at some point.  It made sense that
Aragog would nest in the deeper part of the forest.  

Suddenly, Fang gave an alarming bark.  In response, Loki growled and
transformed, taking on his three hundred pound, green scaled, gold maned
chimera form.  Over Loki's continued low growl and Fang's whimpering as he hid
behind the chimera, the rest of us could hear snapping twigs and crashing brush
as something considerably larger than even Loki was moving towards us.  

"Easy, boy," I said, putting a hand on Loki's mane even as I pointed my wand
toward the sounds.  "This might be who we came here to see."  

Suddenly, a pair of brilliantly bright lights appeared from the direction of
the noise.  I recognized them as headlights.  

"Harry, it's our car!" shouted Ron, relaxing.  

"This is the car you flew to school in?" asked Hermione in a vaguely
disapproving tone.  

"It's been here all this time," said Ron oblivious or inured to her tone. 
"Look at it.  The forest's turned it wild."  Ron patted the hood of the car I'd
first laid eyes on in Arthur Weasley's garage.  "And we thought it was going to
attack us.  I wondered where it had gone."  

The reunion didn't last long.  Before any of us had time to react, huge black
spiders, the size of large horses, dropped from the trees on top of each of
us.  Even fang and Loki were snatched up and hauled off the ground into the
trees.  

"Is anyone hurt?" came Sloth's voice from nearby.  

"I don't think they're trying to hurt us," said Luna, excitedly.  "They knew
just how much force to apply to restrain us without injuring us, even though
they're strong enough to pin Loki."  

"Maybe they're taking us to see Aragog," muttered Neville, nervously in a voice
that sounded like he was trying to convince himself.  

With no sign anyone was hurt, we allowed the acromantula to carry us into their
nest, where swarms of equally enormous spiders were gathered.  The ones
carrying us dropped us onto the ground in a small cluster in the center of the
clearing where they made their home, right outside a massive structure made of
webbing.  Everyone seemed alright, though Fang looked terrified and unsure
which way to run.  Loki picked a side and took up a defensive position.  

"Aragog!  Aragog!" called out one of the spiders in English.  

"What is it?" asked an even larger spider that emerged from the web structure. 
It was more than twice the size of the next largest spider, with grey hair on
its abdomen and cataracts covering all eight of its eyes.  

"Men," replied the spider who had called.  

"Is it Hagrid?" asked the large spider who must be Aragog.  

"Strangers," replied another spider.  

"Kill them," demanded Aragog with fear in his voice.  Sloth and I were on our
feet in an instant, each of us taking a corner of a triangle with Loki as the
third point.  Our wands were at the ready.  

"We're friends of Hagrid's!" shouted Harry from where he lay on the ground. 
That gave the spiders pause.  Neither Sloth, Loki, nor I even thought about
letting down our guard.  

"Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before," said Aragog.  

"Hagrid's in trouble," said Harry.  "That's why we've come."  

"In trouble?  But why has he sent you?" asked Aragog with genuine concern in
his inhuman voice.  

Harry took a breath and explained, "They think, up at the school, that Hagrid's
been setting a- something on the students.  They've taken him to Azkaban."  

Aragog seemed worried sick.  "But that was years ago.  Years and years ago.  I
remember it well.  That's why they made him leave the school.  They believed
that I was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. 
They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free."  

"And you... you didn't come from the Chamber of Secrets?" confirmed Harry.  

"I?  I was not born in the castle.  I come from a distant land.  A traveler
gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg.  Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for
me, kept me hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me scraps from the
table.  Hagrid is my good friend and a good man.  When I was discovered and
blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me.  I have lived here in the
forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me.  He even found me a wife,
Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness."  

"So you never-never attacked anyone?" asked Harry, trying to get the story
straight.  

"Never," affirmed Aragog.  "It would have been my instinct, but I never harmed
a human.  The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom.  I
never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up.  Our kind
like the dark and quiet."  

"But then," said Harry, gathering his courage, "do you know what did kill that
girl?  Is it a basilisk?"  

"We do not speak of it!" snapped Aragog.  "We do not name it!  I never even
told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me many times."  

Loki growled low and threateningly as the spiders started to inch towards us.  

"We'll just go, then," said Harry as Aragog started backing into his domed web.
 

"Go?  I think not," said Aragog.  "My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid on
my command, but I cannot deny them fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into
our midst."  

"If you value the lives of your children, you'll call them off," I said firmly
even as I picked out my targets.  There were a lot of them.  

"Goodbye, friend of Hagrid," was Aragog's reply as he disappeared into his
web.  The spiders rushed forward.  The others got to their feet and drew wands.
 

I stomped my foot and impaled half a dozen acromantula on stone spikes.  At the
same time, I flicked my wand three times, and three giant spiders exploded into
gore and viscera as their bodies were alchemically deconstructed.  

Loki pounced on a spider, digging his reinforced claws into its back.  With his
powerful jaws, my chimera bit into the spider's neck, and cleanly severed its
head.  A second spider tried to bite Loki, but its poisoned fangs broke off as
they failed to penetrate his armored scales.  With a flick of his club like
tail, the acromantula that had bitten him was sent flying into a third giant
spider.  

Sloth slashed her wand in front of her, and a curved wall of glowing red,
alchemically solidified air sprang up just long enough for a group of spiders
to crash into it mid-leap.  Digging her heels into the ground, a group of
spiders suddenly found their legs buried up to the first joint in the ground
with no way to free themselves.  

Suddenly, the car burst onto the scene.  Horn blaring, it ran down half a dozen
spiders and skidded to a halt in the clearing where we were fighting.  The
doors threw themselves open.  

Sloth, Loki, and I continued to fight a delaying action as everyone quickly
scurried into the car.  Hurling ourselves into the back seat, where Luna,
Neville, and Fang were already secured, the undetectable extension charm meant
we didn't bump into anyone.  Once we were inside, the car fled the acromantula
colony, zigzagging of its own accord around trees and eventually losing our
pursuers.  

The car deposited us outside the forbidden forest, and stayed just long enough
to accept some grateful pats on the hood before driving back into the forest. 
Ron vomited once he was out of the car.  

"'Follow the spiders.'  I'll never forgive Hagrid.  We're lucky to be alive,"
said Ron.  

"I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his," offered Harry.  

"That's exactly Hagrid's problem!" yelled Ron.  "He always thinks monsters
aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him!  A cell in
Azkaban!  What was the point of sending us in there?  What have we found out,
I'd like to know?"  

"We know it wasn't the acromantula making the attacks," said Luna, "and got one
more indication the monster is a basilisk."  

"We also found out the girl who died," added Hermione carefully, "died in a
bathroom."  

"Myrtle," said Sloth, following her reasoning.  "We should have asked her about
this from the start."  

"The first attack happened right outside there," noted Harry.  "And if we're
right about it using the pipes, there could be an entrance to the Chamber of
Secrets right in there."  

"That'd explain why Dumbledore never found it," noted Neville.  "He doesn't
spend a lot of time in girls' bathrooms."  

"We need to talk to her," I said, "but with everyone patrolling all night, us
getting escorted everywhere all day, ad Myrtle's bathroom out of order so we
can't even use having to pee as an excuse, how do we get there to talk?"  

"We'll just have to watch for opportunities," said Harry.  

                                     * * *


The next day, exams were announced as being one week away.  After last year, I
was much less worried.  I spent most of the evening studying and reviewing
mostly for lack of anything better to spend my time doing.  I did manage to get
in a couple games of wizard chess against Luna.  It was a much more even match
than those against Ron.  

The next day, just before break, an announcement rang through the halls, "All
students to return to their House dormitories at once.  All teachers return to
the staff room.  Immediately, please."  

I debated taking the opportunity to head for Myrtle's bathroom, but decided
whatever had happened was something I ought to know before entering the Chamber
of Secrets, so I returned to the Ravenclaw common room.  At length, Professor
Flitwick arrived to explain what had happened.  

The Heir of Slytherin had taken Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister, and left
the message, "Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."  The rest of us
were to be evacuated tomorrow morning via the Hogwarts Express.  Meanwhile,
Professor Lockheart had been dispatched to attempt to find and rescue Ginny.  

"We know where the Chamber is and what's inside it," hissed Luna to me when
Flitwick had finished.  "He doesn't have any goggles or mandrake draught.  We
have to give him every advantage he can get."  

"Agreed," I hissed.  "Get your cloak and set up a dummy in your bed.  Once
you're done, meet me back here."  

Under cover of our invisibility cloaks, Loki, Luna, and I snuck out of
Ravenclaw tower and headed for Lockheart's office.  When we arrived, we found
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville had beaten us there with the same idea.  

"You mean you're running away?" demanded Harry of Lockheart.  "After all that
stuff you did in your books-"  

"Books can be misleading," wheedled Lockheart.  

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.  

"My dear boy, do use your common sense.  My books wouldn't have sold half as
well if people didn't think I'd done all those things.  No one wants to read
about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from
werewolves.  He'd look dreadful on the front cover.  No dress sense at all. 
And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip.  Come on."  

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?"
demanded Harry.  

"Harry, Harry, it's not nearly as simple as that.  There was work involved.  I
had to track those people down, ask them exactly how they managed to do what
they did, then I had to put a memory charm on them so they wouldn't remember
doing it.  If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my memory charms.  No,
it's been a lot of work, Harry.  It's not all book signings and publicity
photos, you know.  You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long, hard
slog."  

"You're a monster," I said, throwing back my invisibility cloak.  "All those
people with their memories wiped just so you could sell your books."  My hand
was in my pocket, and I gripped the soul coin I kept there.  "And now all we
know about how they accomplished their feats is your poorly written books."  

Shrugging, Lockheart drew is wand and said, "Sorry, children, but I'll have t
put memory charms on you now.  Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the
place.  I'd never sell another book."  

"Expelliarmus!" called out Harry, and Lockheart's wand flew from his hand, only
to be caught by Sloth, who'd been hiding under her own invisibility cloak. 
"Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one," added Harry.  

"What do you want me to do?" begged Lockheart pathetically.  "I don't know
where the Chamber of Secrets is.  There's nothing I can do."  

"You're in luck," said Harry viciously.  "We think we know where it is, and
what's inside it.  Let's go."  

The seven of us marched Lockheart to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom at wandpoint. 
The man was in obvious fear for his life, but none of us had any sympathy for
him.  His petty ambitions, indifference to the people he'd hurt, his tampering
with people's minds, and his poor notes all reminded me unpleasantly of Shao
Tucker.  

"Oh, it's you," said Myrtle when we entered.  She didn't comment on the teacher
we were holding against his will.  "What do you want this time?"  

"To ask how you died," said Harry.  

"Oh, it was dreadful," said Myrtle with a dreamy flourish that made it sound
like the exact opposite.  "It happened right in here.  I died in this very
stall.  I remember it so well.  I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me
about my glasses.  The door was locked and I was crying, and then I heard
somebody come in.  They said something funny, a different language I think it
must have been.  Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. 
So, I unlocked the door to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then... I
died."  

"How?" asked Harry.  

Lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, Myrtle said, "No idea.  I just
remember seeing a pair of great big, yellow eyes.  My whole body sort of seized
up, and then I was floating away.  And then I came back again.  I was
determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see.  Oh, she was sorry she'd ever
laughed at my glasses."  

"The eys, were they slitted, like a snake's?" asked Luna.  

"Oh, yes," said Myrtle, happily soaking in the attention.  I'd ever seen the
gloomy ghost so pleased.  

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" asked Harry.  

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle gesturing towards a sink.  

"There's a mirror there," I noted, "but if she died from the basilisk's gaze,
she must've seen it directly."  

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle as the others examined it.  They'd found
a small snake engraved on the tap.  

"Let me try something," said Ron.  Then in parseltongue, "Open up."  

At Ron's command, the tab glowed and spun of its own accord.  The sink attached
to it lowered through some unseen mechanism, revealing a large pipe that a
grown man could climb inside.  We'd found the hidden entrance to the Chamber of
Secrets.  

"I'm going down there," said Harry.  

"Me too," said Ron.  

"We'll have better odds of rescuing Ginny if we all go together," I said to
nods from all the other students.  

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," said Lockheart.  "I'll just-"  

"You can go first," said Ron, with hatred burning in his eyes for the man who
was still trying to abandon his sister toher fate.  

Lockheart protested further, but was shoved down forcibly.  I sent Loki down
after him, and the others went to follow.  While they hopped down, I turned to
Myrtle.  

"Can you go and tell the teachers where we are?" I asked.  "That way, if
something happens to us down there, there'll still be hope."  

Excited to be important, Myrtle hummed to herself as she drifted through the
nearest wall.  I was the last to go down the pipe, which slid farther down than
I would have imagined.  

"Remember," said Harry as I was brushing slime from the slide off my robe and
getting to my feet, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away."  

"Also, stay separated," I said.  "It got us last time because we were all
clustered in a group.  This time, stay separate and it can only petrify us one
at a time."  

"That's much better," said Neville sarcastically, but he complied.  

The tunnel was lit only by our wandlight.  The floor was littered with the
bones of dead animals.  As a precaution, I clapped my hands and touched Loki's
head, sealing his eyes shut with alchemy and adjusting the arrays tattooed on
his body to ensure they stayed that way in either of his forms.  

Ron said, "There's something up there."  

Our eyes all snapped shut, and we stopped breathing to listen.  

"Maybe it's asleep," whispered Harry.  

I kept my eyes on the floor as we crept up to what turned out to be a shed
snake skin.  It was bright green and enormous.  There was no longer any hint of
a doubt that we were dealing with a basilisk.  

Lockheart fell to his knees at the sight of the enormous skin.  Ron went up to
him and prodded him angrily with his wand.  "Get up."  

In an instant, Lockheart lunged at Ron and wrested his wand out of his hands. 
His perfect teeth gleamed in the wandlight as Lockheart beamed in triumph.  

"The adventure ends here.  I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the
school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you all tragically
lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body.  Say goodbye to your
memories!  Obli-"  

He didn't finish the incantation. With a speed born form the Philosopher's
Stone I had consumed, I cleared the distance between us in a blink of na eye
and pressed a soul coin to Gilderoy Lockheart's forehead.  The array on the
back glowed red for an instant on contact with his bare flesh, then his body
fell limp and collapsed to the floor.  

"You killed him," said Neville in shock.  

"Actually, he's still breathing," reported Luna.  

"I removed his soul," I explained, pocketing the coin.  "He's as good as dead."
 

"Why'd you do that?" demanded Neville, gripping me by the front of my robes.  

"The same reason I killed a dozen acromantula in the forbidden forest," I
said.  "Because he was trying to attack us."  

"We don't have time for this," snapped Harry.  "Ginny doesn't have time for
this.  Leave Lockheart here.  We'll pick him up on the way back."  

Neville stared me down a moment longer, then released me.  We proceeded down
the tunnel once again.  Soon, we came to a dead end with a pair of carved
serpents entwined across a blank wall.  

"Everyone ready?" asked Harry.  When we nodded, he turned to the snakes and
hissed, "Open."  

The wall split along an invisible seam as the stone snakes animated and
disentangled themselves, one ending up on each of the newly revealed double
doors.  Our now slightly diminished party entered.  

                                     * * *


The Chamber of Secrets was lit by a faint, greenish glow that had no
identifiable source.  The room itself was massive, its ceiling almost lost in
the gloom.  Massive stone pillars supported the ceiling, with stone carvings of
snakes wrapped around each.  At the far end of the chamber stood a massive
statue of Salazar Slytherin.  Its head was nearly as high as the chamber's
ceiling.  At its feet was the black robed, red haired, unmoving figure of Ginny
Weasley in a crumpled heap.  

"Ginny!" called out Ron as he rushed to her.  Per the plan, the rest of us
fanned out, lining the outer walls of the chamber.  After a panicked moment,
Ron called out, "Greed, get over here!  Ginny's hurt!"  

I rushed to Ron's side and put an arm under Ginny's limp, cold body.  I felt
for a pulse.  It was faint, but there.  "She isn't dead,: I reported and took
my wand in the hand I wasn't using to hold her up and pointed it at her.  Blue
light shed over Ginny, and her breathing deepened, color started coming back to
her cheeks, and her cold body grew warmer.  

"Ginny, wake up," begged Ron.  

"She won't wake up," came an unfamiliar voice.  

We all turned to face a tall, black haired sixteen year old boy in Hogwarts
school robes ad wearing a prefect's badge.  Harry recognize dhim.  

"Tom?  Tom Riddle?"  

Riddle nodded to Harry and kept his focus on him.  

"Are you a ghost?" asked Harry.  

"A memory, preserved in a diary or fifty years."  He indicated the small, black
book lying on the floor near Ginny.  

"Harry," said Hermione, urgently, "he's the one who took Ginny.  He has to be. 
He's the only other person down here."  

"Clever little mudblood," said Riddle without ever taking his eyes off Harry.  

"What did you do to my sister?" demanded Ron, getting to his feet and standing,
wand extended, between Riddle and Ginny.  

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle, with a quiet smile, "and
quite a long story.  I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is
because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible
stranger."  

"She's still fading," I reported.  "It's like her life force is bleeding out
through a wound I can't see."  I pulled a beozar out of my pocket and forced it
down Ginny's throat in case poison was involved with her deteriorating
condition.  

"It's you!" said Ron, staring hatefully at Riddle.  "You brought her here, and
you're still hurting her right now."  Ron drew a circle in the air with his
wand, leaving a trail of orange light behind it.  

"And what are you going to do about it, blood traitor?" asked Riddle with
amusement at Ron's choice of spell.  "Write me a harsh note?"  

"Very harsh," said Ron as he completed drawing the transmutation circle in the
air and extended his left hand towards it.  The array glowed with a brilliant
golden light that cut through the chamber's gloom.  An orb of light
concentrated just in front of the circle as Ron used the same form of alchemy
I'd used to kill Quirrell the previous year.  A gust of wind with the force of
a hurricane burst from the orb of compressed air and launched a surprised
Riddle off his feet and slammed him into a column with a bone shattering
impact.  

Riddle's body flickered translucent for a moment, and he staggered to his
feet.  As his body solidified again, Ginny's condition worsened dramatically. 
"Stop!" I called out.  "You're hurting Ginny, not him!"  

Riddle smiled.  There wasn't a hair out of place.  Somehow, he'd linked himself
to her, and he was draining her like a battery, one I was then recharging.  

"Pity you had to warn him," said Riddle with amusement in his voice.  "I would
have loved to see the look on his face after he realized he killed his baby
sister."  

"How did you do all this?" asked Harry.  

"The diary," said Riddle, proudly.  "My diary.  Little Ginny's been writing in
it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes.  How her
brothers tease her.  How she had to come to school with secondhand robes and
books.  How she did't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like
her."  

"Incendia!" yelled Hermione, and flames engulfed Riddle's diary.  As they
faded, the book proved unharmed by the flames.  

Riddle kept talking as though nothing had happened.  "Its very boring, having
to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven year old girl, but I was
patient.  I wrote back.  I was empathetic.  I was kind.  Ginny simply loved
me.  'No one's ever understood me like you, Tom.'  'I'm so glad I've got this
diary to confide in.'  'It's like having a friend I can carry around in my
pocket.'"  

Riddle laughed.  At that moment, the red stone affixed to the tip of my wand
reached its limit and shattered into dust.  The strain of oxygenating her
tissues, elevating her blood pressure, and generally supporting her autonomic
functions even as her organs were shutting down used up the energy in my stone
quickly.  Without missing a beat, I dropped my wand and pulled a second red
stone out of my pocket and switched to using that to keep Ginny alive.  

"If I say it myself, Harry," continued Riddle, "I've always been able to charm
the people I needed.  So, Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul
happened to be exactly what I wanted.  I grew stronger and stronger on a diet
of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets.  I grew powerful, far more powerful
than little Miss Weasley.  Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few
of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her."  

"You possessed her," said Sloth.  "You weren't strong enough to manifest like
this, but you used her body to open the Chamber and attack the muggleborns."  

"And again, the mudblood gets it on the first try," gloated Riddle.  "Of
course, she didn't know what she was doing at first.  It was very amusing.  I
wish you could have seen her new diary entries.  Far more interesting, they
became.  'Dear Tom, I think I'm losing my memory.  There are rooster feathers
all over my robes, and I don't know how they got there.'  'Dear Tom, I can't
remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I got
paint all down my front.'  'Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and not
myself.  I think he suspects me.'  'There was another attack today and I don't
know where I was.  Tom, what am I going to do?  I think I'm going mad.'  'I
think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!'

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary,
but she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it.  And that's where
you came in, Harry.  You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted.  Of
all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was
most anxious to meet."  

"And why did you want to meet me?" asked Harry, keeping him talking.  There
wasn't much else we could do at this point except keep Riddle talking and hope
he'd inadvertently reveal some clue as to how to break this link between him
and Ginny.  Sloth meanwhile had circled over to me and handed her red stones to
me in the hopes they could buy Ginny some more time.  

"Well, you see," said Riddle, supremely confident, "Ginny told me all about
you, Harry.  Your whole fascinating story.  I knew I must find out more about
you, talk to you, meet you if I could.  So, I decided to show you my famous
capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust."  

Hate caused Harry's voice to tremble as he said, "Hagrid's my friend, and you
framed him, didn't you?  I thought you made a mistake but..."  

Riddle laughed.  "It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry.  Well, you can
imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet.  On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor
but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student.  On the
other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to
raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the forbidden forest to
wrestle trolls.  But I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked.  I
thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of
Slytherin.  It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could
about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance.  As though
Hagrid had the brains or the power!  

"Only the transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was
innocent.  He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. 
Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed.  Dumbledore never seemed to like me
as much as the other teachers did."  

"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you," jabbed Harry.  

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was
expelled," said Riddle.  "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again
while I was at school, but I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent
searching for it.  I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen
year old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead
another in my footsteps and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."  

"Well you haven't finished it," said Harry.  "No one's died this time, note
even the cat.  We had enough mandrake draught to revive everyone as fast as you
could petrify them."  

"Haven't I already told you that killing mudbloods doesn't matter to me
anymore?" said Riddle in a low voice.  "For many months now, my new target has
been you.  Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it
was Ginny who was writing to me, not you.  She saw you with the diary, you see,
and panicked.  What if you found out how to work it and I repeated all her
secrets to you?  What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling
roosters?  So, the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted
and stole it back."  

"Sounds like you didn't get what you wanted because Ginny didn't trust you
after all," said Luna, satisfied.  

Ignoring Luna, Riddle pressed on, "But I knew you would go to any lengths to
solve the mystery, particularly if your friends were attacked, and Ginny had
told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak parseltongue, so I
made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait.  She
struggled and cried and became very boring, but there isn't much life left in
her.  She put too much into the diary, into me.  Enough to let me leave its
pages at last.  I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived.  I knew
you'd come.  I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."  

"Like what?" asked Harry, still stringing him along.  

"Well," said Riddle, conversationally, "how is it that you, a skinny boy with
no extraordinary magical tallent, managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all
time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers
were destroyed?"  

"Why do you care about how I escaped?" asked Harry.  "Voldemort was after your
time."  

"Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter," said Riddle.  Using
the same spell Ron had used to draw in the air, Riddle wrote his full name,
"TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE."  Slashing his wand through the words, the letters
rearranged themselves into, "I AM LORD VOLDEMORT."  

Harry reacted harshly.  Pulling the soul coin I'd given him at the beginning of
the year in case he encountered Voldemort again from his pocket, Harry threw it
at Riddle.  It bounced off his chest without reacting.  Whatever Riddle's
apparition was made of, there wasn't a soul in there, otherwise the alchemy in
the coin would've triggered and ripped it out like it had with Lockheart.  

"Was that supposed to do something?" asked Riddle.  "Oh well, it didn't work." 
Pointing at the words that still floated in the air, Riddle continued, "You
see?  It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate
friends only, of course.  You think I was going to use my filthy, muggle
father's name forever?  I, in who's veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin
himself through my mother's side?  I, keep the name of a foul, common muggle
who abandoned me before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a
witch?  No, Harry.  I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards
everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer
in the world!"  

"So," said Sloth, with laughter in her voice and a smirk on her face, "the
great Lord Voldemort is just a whiny little boy with daddy issues.  So, that's
what all this muggle hate is about, trying to get back at daddy for abandoning
you?"  

Riddle's composure failed him, and he screamed, "Adava Kedavra!" through a mask
of fury.  A jet of green light lanced from his wand and struck Sloth in the
chest.  Her smirk went slack as she collapsed.  He turned back to Harry and
started to restore his quiet smile while blue sparks danced over Sloth's body
and she stood back up to gasps from Ron, Neville, and Luna.  

"You're not," said Harry, causing Riddle to pull his attention from the
regenerated Sloth back to Harry.  

"Not what?" Riddle demanded.  

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," said Harry.  "Sorry to disappoint you
and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. 
Everyone say so.  Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over
Hogwarts.  Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school, and he frightens
you now, wherever you're hiding these days."  

"Dumbledore has been driven out of this school by the mere memory of me!"
hissed Riddle through clenched teeth.  

"He's not as gone as you might think!" declared Harry.  

Suddenly, music started to sound.  Strange and beautiful, it made it feel like
everything would turn out alright.  Like we could win just because we had right
on our side.  Flames erupted near the top of one of the pillars and a phoenix
appeared.  Its golden claws clutched the Hogwarts sorting hat.  

The phoenix swooped down and dropped the hat at Harry's feet, and perched on
his shoulder.  Riddle and the bird stared at one another.  After muttering
identifications of the hat and Dumbledore's pet phoenix Fawks, Riddle laughed.
 

"This is what Dumbledore sends his defender?  A songbird and an old hat?  Do
you feel brave, Harry Potter?  Do you feel safe now?  To business, Harry. 
Twice in your past, in my future, we have net, and twice I failed to kill you. 
How did you survive?  Tell me everything.  The longer you talk, the longer you
stay alive."  

"You couldn't kill me, shade," taunted Sloth, "why do you think you have what
it takes to kill The Boy Who Lived?"  

When Riddle raised his wand to silence her, Neville flung a curse at his back. 
"Petfifucus Totalus!"  

Riddle whirled with practiced speed and slashed his wand across the space
between himself and Neville.  Riddle didn't utter the incantation, but I
recognized the wand movement as the shield charm.  

Seeing Neville's plan, a rain of curses blasted at Riddle from every
direction.  Leg locker curse, jelly legs jinx, full body bind, every non-
harmful immobilizing curse, hex and jinx Ron, Neville, Luna, and Hermione knew,
all struck at him at once.  Riddle's reflexes proved impressive, as he twirled
his wand this way and that, countering every curse thrown at him.  But he
wasn't superhuman, and in the face of that onslaught, all he could do was
block.  

"Enough of this," said Riddle even as he continued to block curses from all
sides, "Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin
against famous Harry Potter, his little army, and the best weapons Dumbledore
can give him."  

Riddle looked up at the statue of Slytherin and hissed in parseltongue, "Speak
to me, Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four."  

The statue's mouth opened, and a writing mass of scales and coils the same
color as the skin we'd found outside was visible within.  I forced myself to
look away as the basilisk dropped out of the statue's mouth and fell to the
floor.  

"Kill them," hissed Riddle.  

Fawks launched himself off Harry's shoulder towards the basilisk, even as Ron,
Luna, and Sloth met the creature's gaze and were petrified.  No one was
attacking Riddle anymore.  For his part, he was content to watch the show,
laughing madly.  

I wanted to join the fray, but Ginny wasn't stable.  There was no telling how
long she'd survive without my continuing treatment.  

Hermione launched a curse at the basilisk, drawing its attention and getting
herself petrified.  Neville uncorked a bottle of mandrake draught at his belt
and ran to revive the others.  

Harry seemed to be trying to work out Dumbledore's plan, and jammed the sorting
hat on his head.  Fawks seemed to be trying to attack the basilisk, but it
weaved out of the way of the phoenix as it slithered around pillars to attack
Neville.  Evading the gaping maw of the King of Serpents, Neville jammed the
bottle of mandrake draught into Ron's mouth, reviving him just in time to be
petrified again by the serpent that had been pursuing Neville.  

Harry pulled off the sorting hat and drew a ruby pommeled, silver bladed
sword.  Neville fled the basilisk once again, heading for Luna.  Fawks again
tried to intercept and distract the snake.  Holding the sword in one hand and
leaving the hat where it lay, Harry rushed to defend Neville, swinging the
blade wildly.  

Harry succeeded in blocking the basilisk, but was petrified himself while
Neville successfully revived Luna.  Riddle let out a cry of glee and hissed new
instructions to the basilisk.  

"Use your fangs!  Finish Harry Potter!"  

Neville shoved Luna in Hermione's direction and ran towards Harry as the
basilisk reared back and opened its maw of venomous fangs.  Fawks swooped down
from above as the basilisk hesitated, giving Neville time to revive Harry.  

In a moment of madness or inspiration, Harry used his free hand to yank the
protective goggles off his face, and he stared right at the massive serpent. 
The snake's head turned faster than I imagined it could, as though it was
suddenly afraid Harry's gaze was deadly.  

"Everyone, take off your goggles!" ordered Harry.  Luna complied and tossed
Hermione's asside as well while she administered the mandrake draught.  Neville
hesitated, but complied as well after a moment, then moved to restore Ron
again.  

"What's this?" demanded Riddle.

"It's okay, Fawks," said Harry.  "It won't hurt us."  Fawks gave a surprised
squawk and circled the room, unsure of what was happening.  I didn't know nay
better than the bird, but I removed my goggles and pulled them off Sloth's
petrified form too as I continued to treat Ginny.  

"What's going on, Harry?" asked Ron with his eyes clenched shut as Neville
revived Sloth.  

"We were right about Slytherin.  The basilisk doesn't want to kill anybody,"
said Harry.  "We were just making it easier to petrify us harmlessly by wearing
the goggles.  Without them, it has to decide between killing us and leaving us
alone, so it's not attacking at all."  

"Kill them!" hissed Riddle.  "I am the Heir of Salazar Slytherin and you will
obey me!"  

"You are a disgrace to the name of Salazar Slytherin," Harry hissed back.  "You
could never make it kill, could you?  Things just kept 'happening' to make it
so people were petrified instead.  You never considered Slytherin's monster
would be trying not to kill."  

"You think you know Slytherin's will better than his own descendant?" demanded
Riddle.  

"Let me guess," said Harry, still in parseltongue, "You stepped into the
Chamber of Secrets and Slytherin's basilisk lowered its eyes and you thought
that made you his heir.  I'll bet it wasn't even the one that killed Myrtle,
was it?  You killed her yourself after she was petrified, didn't you?"  

"Useless beast," hissed Riddle.  "But it makes no difference.  In fact, I
prefer it this way.  Just you and me, Harry Potter."  Then he was forced to
stop talking to block a hex.  

"Did you forget about us?" yelled Neville.  

While Riddle was again blocking binding hexes, I whistled to Loki, who came to
me.  Pausing in healing Ginny, I clapped my hands and opened his eyes. 
"Fetch!" I ordered, and then went back to healing Ginny.  

Loki launched himself bodily at Riddle, forcing the others to pause in their
hexing attempts.  My dog's jaws latched on to the wand in Riddle's hand and
wrenched it out of his grip.  Then three separate binding curses hit Riddle
from three different directions.  He was on the ground staring hatefully.  

"Now, what to do with this," mused Harry as he stood over Riddle's prone form
staring at the sword he'd pulled from the hat.  

At that moment, Fawks dropped the diary at Harry's feet.  Reversing his grip on
the blade, Harry drove it down into the diary.  Riddle screamed i agony as his
body lost cohesion and the binding spells had nothing to hold on to.  Ink
spurted out of the diary like blood.  Then it was over.  Riddle was gone, and
the destroyed diary lay inert.  Ginny's eyes fluttered open.  

"Who-?" she started to ask.  Then her eyes found her brother.  "Ron!"  She
hurled herself at him and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing.  "Oh, Ron, I
tried to tell you at b-breakfast but I c-couldn't say it i front of Percy.  It
was me, Ron. But I-I swear I d-didn't mean to-  R-Riddle made me, he t-took me
over.  And... w-why isn't that thing attacking?  W-where's Riddle?  The last
thing I remember is him coming out of the diary."  

"It's all right, we're here," said Ron, hugging Ginny, his own face wet with
tears of relief.  

"Riddle's finished," added Harry, holding up the remains of the diary.  "Look."
 

"And the basilisk is on our side now," said Luna, stroking the creature's side
affectionately.  

"We should go," said Neville.  

"Here's your wand," I said, handing Ginny the wand Loki had fetched from
Riddle.  

"I'm going to be expelled," said Ginny as she started walking.  "I've looked
forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came, and n-now I'll have to
leave and w-what'll mum and dad say?"  

"It wasn't your fault," said Sloth.  "You were possessed.  Nobody blames you." 
We all nodded our agreement.  

We all left the Chamber of Secrets together.  In the outer corridor, we found
Lockheart's body where we'd left it on the way in.  

"Did I-?" asked Ginny.  

"No," I said.  "I'm the one that did this to him.  And however that makes me
look, I don't regret it.  This man got away with hurting a lot of people and if
I hadn't stopped him, he'd have prevented us rescuing you."  

"What do we do with him?" asked Ron, nudging him with his foot.  

"We take him back up with us," I said.  I'll take responsibility and face
whatever consequences I have coming."  

"How are we going to get back up that pipe?" asked Neville.  

"Can you give us a boost?" asked Luna in parseltongue.  The basilisk slithered
out of the Chamber and pushed us up into Myrtle's bathroom one by one.  We bid
farewell to the basilisk who returned to its lair and followed Fawks who seemed
to know where he was going.  He led us to McGonagall's office.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Harry getting the chance to deconstruct Riddle and his arrogance was another of
those scenes I really wanted to have.  And yes, they're keeping the basilisk. 
***** New Arrangements *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 22) New Arrangements
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


McGonagall's office contained its owner, along with Molly and Arthur Weasley,
and Professor Dumbledore.  Fawks swooped over to land on Dumbledore's shoulder.
 

Molly Weasley pulled Ginny into an embrace, which Arthur joined in.  "Ginny! 
You saved her!  You saved her!  How did you do it?"  

"I think we'd all like to know that," said McGonagall.  

Harry launched into an explanation.  I butted in and added details where Harry
was hesitant, explaining that I'd neutralized Lockheart and why, as well as
filling in gaps about Ginny and the diary.  The senior Weasleys were starting
to scold Ginny for not turning over the diary sooner when Dumbledore
interrupted.  

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away.  This has been a
terrible ordeal for her.  There will be no punishment.  Older and wiser wizards
than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.  Bed rest and perhaps a large,
steaming mug of hot chocolate.  I always find that cheers me up."  

The Weasleys left with Ginny, leaving our rescue party with Dumbledore and
McGonagall.  

"You know, Minerva, I think this merits a good feast.  Might I ask you to go
and alert the kitchens?" asked Dumbledore.  

"Right.  I'll leave you to deal with them, shall I?" asked McGonagall.  

"Certainly," said Dumbledore.  When McGonagall had gone, he turned back to us. 
"Harry, Ron, I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you
if you broke any more school rules.  Which goes to show that the best of us
must sometimes eat our words.  You will all receive special awards for services
to the school and, let me see, yes, I think two hundred points apiece for your
houses."  

"We need to make some Slytherin friends," I mused.  "This is getting really
unfair to them."  

"I will be speaking to the Wizangemot  on your behalf about Gilderoy," said
Dumbledore.  "In the meantime, can the rest of you help take him up to the
infirmary?  I'd like a few more words with Harry."  

We complied and delivered Lockheart's soulless but still alive body to Madam
Pomfrey.  At the feast, it was announced that Dumbledore had been restored to
headmaster, Lockheart wouldn't be returning next year, and that exams were
being canceled.  Hagrid arrived back from Azkaban during the feast and joined
right in, thanking us all for proving his innocence.  

In the final week of classes, I learned that by "speak to the Wizangemot on my
behalf" Dumbledore meant "wield sufficient political influence to ensure that
the effective death of a wizard famous enough to make front page news at book
signings wouldn't even go to trial."  It made me wonder about what the man had
done after Quirrell had died.  It had apparently taken a massive amount of
political manuvering, including blackmail, as well as the presence of a younger
copy of the most feared dark lord in history just to make the man step down as
headmaster.  And even then, it didn't stick.  

Harry'd apparently turned the magic sword he pulled from the hat over to
Dumbledore for safekeeping.  Meanwhile, Harry was particularly proud of having
deduced that Lucius Malfoy had been behind getting Riddle's diary into Ginny
Weasley's hands.  After working it out, he tricked Lucius into freeing Dobby,
the house elf slave that had spent the year warning Harry about the Chamber.  

                                     * * *


Debarking the Hogwarts Express at Platform 9 3/4, Sloth, Loki, and I stuck very
close to Harry.  Before stepping through the barrier back to the muggle world,
Harry got out a quill and parchment and started scratching out numbers.  

"What's that?" I asked.  

"This is called a phone number," said Harry as he continued writing.  "I can't
stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to."  

"Harry," said Sloth, "you don't have to go back to those muggles."  

Harry dropped his writing implements and stared.  

"We talked it over after hearing about your last summer with the Dursleys," I
said, putting an arm around Sloth's shoulder.  "We want you to come stay with
us for the summer. For however many summers you need until you're ready to be
out on your own."  

"Come live with you?" said Harry in a low voice, almost to himself.  Then
louder and more firmly, "Of course I want that.  Where are you staying?  Have
you got a house?  Can I move in directly or-?"  

"We want to have a word with your aunt and uncle first," I said.  When Harry
looked crestfallen, I added, "Whatever they say doesn't change our offer. 
Meanwhile, you'd better get Hermione's phone number instead.  If you don't get
an owl or a call in the next few days, I'm counting on you to come and rescue
Harry."  

Ron and Hermione grinned and nodded to each other.  Hermione retrieved the
quill and parchment Harry'd dropped, jotted down her number, and returned the
implements to Harry.  Then, she and Ron departed.  

Flanking Harry, Sloth and I stepped through the barrier and scanned the crowd
for Harry's relatives.  A large, fat man with a mustache and an aggrieved look
on his face was glancing around the train station.  He spotted Harry and
stalked over to where we were standing.  

"You must be Harry's uncle," I said pleasantly, concealing my disdain for the
child abuser.  

The man's face went red with suppressed rage, seemingly triggered by my
addressing him.  He proceeded to pointedly ignore me, and said to Harry, "Get
in the car, boy.  I'm not about to waste my time standing about, chatting with
your kind."  

"Actually, you should probably listen to him," suggested Harry.  "He's got good
news."  

"We want to take Harry for the summer," I said.  

"You asked at Christmas if I'd be able to spend the summer at Hogwarts," Harry
reminded him.  "This is the next best thing."  

"Why did you make me waste my time coming out here if you managed to find
someone else to put up with your... behavior?" demanded Vernon Dursley.  

"We still need to pick up the rest of Harry's things," said Sloth.  Harry
looked confused for a moment and about to speak, but Vernon beat him to it.  

"The boy's already stolen everything he's getting from my house!  He's lucky
I'm not sending along a bill for the damages when his little friends broke his
bedroom window on their way out!"  

Vernon stormed off, and HArry had the biggest grin I'd ever seen on him.  

"So, where are we going?" he asked.  

"I'll call us a cab," I said.  "Hotel the first night while I work out the
arrangements.  We should have a permanent place tomorrow."  

"You really don't have any more stuff than you took to Hogwarts?" asked Sloth.
 

Harry looked embarrassed.  "I told you the Dursleys hate me."  

"It's just, Greed and I travel a lot.  I'm not used to having more stuff than
other people."  

                                     * * *


Sloth and Harry were helping one another with their summer homework for History
of Magic when I returned to the hotel room.  All the arrangements had been
made.  Having a limitless supply of money simplified everything, no matter what
world you were in.  

"Who- Greed?  Is that you?" asked Harry when I entered.  

"Shape shifters, remember?" I reminded him as I closed the door.  I'd reverted
to my adult form to handle the house hunting.  

"Right," said Harry.  "It's just weird seeing you like this."  

"It's a good thing we can do it," said Sloth.  "I've done the whole living on
your own as a kid thing.  It's so much easier this way."  

"So how old are you guys really?" asked Harry.  

"Time flows sort of strangely between worlds," I noted,  "But I'm a little over
thirty."  

"For me, it depends on how you count," said Sloth.  "I was created about five
years ago, but I was made as a replacement for another girl who died at four. 
I have her memories."  

"So either way, you're actually younger than me," said Harry, surprised.  

"Speaking of which," I said, pulling the coin to which I'd bound Lockheart's
soul out of my pocket, "are you ready to see if my theory on soul attachment
works and confuse the question of your age even further?"  

"When we get to the new house," said Sloth, shaking her head.  "If it works, I
know we'll want to test it out right away, and there's a specific transmutation
I want for my first."  

                                     * * *


The next day, Harry, Sloth, Loki, and I loaded into the brand new car I'd
purchased the previous day and we pulled out of the hotel parking lot.  Harry's
owl Hedwig was in a cage next to him in the back seat.  

"Once we're unpacked, you should send Hedwig off to Ron and Hermione so they
don't worry," I said as I turned a corner onto Privet Drive.  

"What are we doing here?" demanded Harry, tensing up.  He seemed to be
considering jumping out of the moving vehicle from the way his eyes darted to
the door handle.  

"I bought the house next door to where you were living," I said, pulling into
the driveway.  

"Why?" asked Harry.  "Why would you take me back here?"  

"You weren't the only child in the Dursley household," I said.  "I wanted to be
close enough to keep an eye on how they're treating Dudley."  

"You think they'd do anything to Dudley?" asked Harry, laughing.  "They give
him everything he wants and have never so much as scolded him that I've seen."
 

"But now they don't have the punching bag they've used to vent their aggression
the last twelve years," said Sloth.  

Harry was silent for a long moment, then asked, "Do you really think they'd
hurt him?"  

"If we were sure, we'd be getting him out right now too," said Sloth.  

Moving in was a simple matter, what with having three trunks worth of
possessions, mostly school supplies, and two pets between us.  We selected
bedrooms, and Harry warned us to be careful with our curtains, since his aunt
Petunia loved to spy on the neighbors.  Hedwig was sent out carrying letters to
Ron and Hermione explaining his current living situation and providing our
phone number.  

No sooner had Hedwig taken flight than there was a knock at our front door.  At
the front door stood Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry.  

"Professor Dumbledore," I said, blinking with surprise, "please come in.  Er,
would you like some tea?"  

"Yes, that would be lovely.  Thank you, Greed."  Professor Dumbledore entered
and took a seat in the living room.  

I went to the kitchen and filled four cups with tap water then waved my wand
over them, transmuting the water into steaming hot tea.  I brought the cups out
and distributed them.  

"What's this about, Professor?" asked Harry when we'd all taken a sip.  

Sighing deeply and with none of the playfulness or youthful vigor he usually
projected, Dumbledore turned to Harry and said, "You have to go back to your
aunt and uncle."  

"No," said Harry.  

"Why?" demanded Sloth at the same time.  

"They are your legal guardians," explained Dumbledore.  

"They're abusive monsters who're glad they don't have him around anymore," I
countered.  "You don't put children in solitary confinement."  

"You still want to send him back there?" asked Sloth after a moment of silence.
 

"What I want has very little to do with it," said Dumbledore.  "There is no
choice in the matter."  

"What do you mean, no choice?" asked Harry.  

Dumbledore looked around the room at the three of us, considered for a long
moment, then said, "It concerns the threat of Lord Voldemort.  Harry, do you
recall how I told you about your mother's sacrifice?"  

Harry nodded.  "She died to protect me, and doing that meant Voldemort couldn't
kill me when I was a baby and he can't touch me now."  

"That's right," acknowledged Dumbledore.  "It's very old, very powerful magic,
and because of that act of sacrifice, committed out of pure love, I was able to
weave an additional protection into the magic.  So long as you dwelt in the
home of someone who share your mother's blood, you would be safe.  That's why
you were sent to live there in the first place."  

"How do you maintain a magic based on selfless love by sticking him with people
who hate him?" I asked skeptically.  

"Petunia may have taken Harry in grudgingly, unwillingly, but she did take him
in," explained Dumbledore.  "Harry, as long as you could call your aunt's
household home, the protections would stand, but you must actually dwell
there."  

"What exactly are those protections?" asked Sloth.  "They certainly don't seem
to keep him safe from his relatives."  

"Lord Voldemort cannot cross the threshold, nor can any who would act in his
name, or at his orders.  A degree of safety, I'm sure you've noticed, that I
cannot guarantee even at Hogwarts."  

"So, I really do have to go back," said Harry, disappointed.  "The Dursleys are
bad, but they're better than Voldemort."  

"Hold on," I said.  "Harry spends most of the year at Hogwarts as it is.  How
long does he need to stay at the Dursleys to maintain the protections?"  

"You would only need to stay a single night each year," said Dumbledore, "but
while you are out of the house, obviously you are not enjoying its
protections.  At Hogwarts, I offer what protection I am capable of.  When you
stayed with the Weasleys last summer, they provided protection."  

"And staying here," I added, "he'll be protected by two immortal, superhuman
master alchemists, and he'll be close enough to flee next door behind the wards
if an attack happens."  

"One night a year unless there's an actual emergency," considered Harry aloud.
 

"We can talk to your aunt and uncle about the details," said Sloth.  "You don't
have to be there if you don't want to."  

"If I have to stay the night with them at some point anyway, I might as well
come along and get it out of the way now," said Harry.  

I stood up and indicate the door.  "Shall we go?"  

Sloth stood up, adopting her adult appearance as she did so.  The four of us
walked next door, and Dumbledore knocked on the Dursleys' front door.  Vernon
opened it, and immediately gritted his teeth.  A thin woman stood behind him,
presumably Harry's aunt Petunia.  

"What're you doing back here, boy?" demanded Vernon.  "Your little plan to run
off with your friends fall through?"  

"We're still happy to host Harry as long as he needs it," said Sloth, placing a
hand on Harry's shoulder.  

"Trust me, we aren't any happier having to have this conversation than you
are," I added.  

"Professor Dumbledore can explain better than I can," said Harry, "but
basically I still have to stay here one night a year."  

Turning to Dumbledore, Vernon declared, "So, you're the one running that
school.  This is your doing, no doubt."  

"Actually," replied Dumbledore pleasantly, "I was in favor of returning Harry
here for the full summer.  Family is important after all."  

"Look," I said, eager to get this over with, "the evil wizard who killed
Harry's parents is still out there.  If you let Harry stay one night a year,
it'll renew the magic that keeps him out."  

"What's this nonsense?" asked Vernon, his face reddening.  

"One night a year," I emphasized.  "The rest of the time, you can pretend we
don't exist.  You and your family will be the ones getting the most out of this
protection."  

"We wouldn't need protection if it weren't for your kind," said Vernon, smugly,
as though he thought that won him the argument.  

"He can stay," said Petunia in a small voice, drawing everyone's attention.  

"You know the trouble the boy causes," argued Vernon.  "We were lucky to get
rid of him."  

"My sister and her husband died fighting this man," said Petunia.  "If it means
keeping you and Dudley safe from the likes of him, Harry could stay here the
rest of his life."  

"I am afraid," said Dumbledore, "that once Harry comes of age, the ward will
fall in any case."  

Sloth looked at the couple and said, "You've both managed to exceed my
expectations.  Neither of you care about Harry at all, except in how it
benefits you.  Even then, you're barely willing to look out for your own
interests out of spite.  It almost makes me appreciate my father."  She turned
and left.  

"If you do anything else to hurt Harry while he's here, you'll answer for it,"
I promised.  

"Do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?" blustered Vernon
Dursley.  

My upper lip curled into a sneer, revealing the pointed teeth of my homunculus
form.  Vernon took a step backward in fright.  "One night a year," I repeated. 
"If you can't restrain yourselves even that long, I'll have to reconsider
whether maintaining the wards is worth it."  

"I shall see you at the start of the term, Harry," said Dumbledore, who
promptly disappeared with a popping noise.  

Looking at me, Harry said, "Don't worry.  I managed eleven years here.  I can
manage one night."  

I nodded and left, returning to the house we'd purchased next door.  

                                     * * *


"He'll be okay," I said, crossing the threshold of our newly purchased home. 
"They won't dare harm Harry knowing we'll come after them."  

"I know," replied Sloth.  "He's dealing with them better than I could.  At
least he knows full well they don't love him."  

"Well, they can't directly tamper with his memories to make themselves look
good," I replied.  "On to happier subjects.  Are you ready for your soul?"  I
again took the soul coin I'd used on Lockheart out of my pocket.  

Sloth let out a deep breath and shape shifted back into her true black haired,
pale skinned, purple eyed, four year old homunculus form.  "I'm ready."  

Sloth laid face down on the couch, providing easy access to the oroboros mark
on her shoulder blade.  I pressed the coin to her mark, and the array on the
visible side of the coin flared red for an instant, then went dark.  

"It should be done," I reported.  "How do you feel?"  

Sloth sat up, a curious look on her face.  "I don't feel any different.  I
probably didn't need to be laying down.  I didn't feel a thing.  Let's find out
if it worked."  

"The most important thing, whether it worked or not, is that you're okay," I
said, following her outside to the front yard.  

Sloth smiled at me, then clapped her hands.  "Edward showed Nina this
transmutation during their brief time together.  She was awed, and wanted more
than anything to learn to do that too when she grew up.  I'm not Nina, but..."
 

She got to her knees and pressed her palms to the ground.  Blue light poured
from the earth, confirming our experiment had worked.  Small white flowers grew
and intertwined, forming a ring which Sloth picked up and placed on her head
like a crown.  Giddy with her first successful use of alchemy without a stone,
Sloth skipped back into the house, dug her wand out of her trunk, and applied a
complex array similar to the one on my wand.  

"Now that you're a proper alchemist," I said, smiling at Sloth, "how about you
give me a hand redecorating the place?"  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
No one was going to just forget what happened to Harry at the start of the
year.  Harry gets to properly work out his priorities regarding Voldemort
versus the Dursleys in full knowledge of the consequences for a change. 
***** Romantic Interlude 16 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 23) Romantic Interlude 16
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 24.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


After an extensive remodel, including adding a basement garden with growth
lights for our herbology work, Sloth slumped into a large chair, exhausted.  

"I didn't think we could get tired," she said.  "Did something go wrong with
the soul attachment?"  

"You're fine," I assured her.  "Alchemy can take a lot out of you, and it isn't
all down to physical exhaustion.  Part of why I use it as often as I do is to
build up my endurance."  

"Makes sense, I guess.  I'm working metaphorical muscles I didn't even have an
hour ago."  

"You'll get used to it," I assured her.  "Until then, it's as good an excuse as
any for us to get back in the habit of sleeping together.  As much as I'm
learning at Hogwarts, I've missed falling asleep next to you."  

With eyes half lidded from fatigue, Sloth said, "I set us up a private room
downstairs, through the wall behind the mandrake pots.  I figured no amount of
nosy neighbors could peep in on us there.  Carry me?"  

I walked over and scooped Sloth up in my arms.  She closed her eyes and nuzzled
into my chest.  I settled Loki down on his bed in the front room, then carried
Sloth downstairs.  Her breathing was already even by the time I reached the
wall she mentioned, and I didn't pass through when I pressed on it with my
elbow.  Rather than wake Sloth, I used my shape shifting abilities to draw a
transmutation circle on my back to emulate Sloth's Ultimate Escape, and walked
through the wall with her.  

The room she'd prepared for us had a large mirror on one wall, and a bank of
monitors displaying video feeds from cameras all over the house on the opposite
wall.  No one could disturb us by walking in unexpectedly, but we would be
forewarned of an attack topside.  The wall I'd just walked through had a door
drawn on it, indicating which way was out.  The final wall contained a
currently empty closet.  A large bed with many pillows and a fluffy bedspread
occupied the center of the room.  

I pulled aside the covers and gently laid Sloth down on the bed.  Willing my
own clothing away, I began removing Sloth's clothes.  She was sleeping heavily
and didn't stir even when I pulled her black overall dress over her head.  As
we'd discovered long ago, the clothing naturally produced by a homunculus' body
disappears like a popped soap bubble when removed, so I didn't have to worry
about transmuting a hamper.  

With Sloth settled into bed, I climbed in with her, draped my arms across her
tiny, naked body, pulled the covers up over us, and went to sleep.  

I awoke to the sensation of a small tongue running along the length of my erect
penis.  Under the covers, Sloth was alternating between licking along the
length and closing her mouth over whatever random point she took an interest in
and sucking hard.  I laid my head back down and closed my eyes again, letting
my lover get on with it.  

Rather than pull the head into her mouth, Sloth just periodically sucked on the
tip just like she did for any other point along my erection.  The effect was a
slow buildup rather than a furious rush to climax, as Sloth maintained a
deliberate, steady pace.  As a result, her mouth was nowhere near the tip when
my orgasm arrived and I started to ejaculate.  Abandoning her deliberate
pacing, Sloth grabbed the shaft of my penis with both hands and shoved the top
of my spurting member into her eager mouth.  

After swallowing as much as I gave her, Sloth climbed out from under the
covers, smiling and looking quite proud of herself.  Some sticky white semen
had gotten on her bangs and her chin in the process of getting my penis into
her mouth while it was ejaculating.  

"I can't think of a better way to wake up in the morning," I said, and hugged
her tightly, planting an affectionate kiss on her cheek.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
I would have laid out the chapter breaks differently were I not trying to keep
the sexually explicit material partitioned off. 
***** Aunt Marge and Sirius Black *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 24) Aunt Marge and Sirius
Black
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *
Harry returned to us no worse for his evening with the Dursleys.  Letters came
in from Ron and Hermione, followed by phone calls.  It took a few tries to
convince Ron to speak normally into the receiver instead of shouting, but he
eventually got the hang of it.  Ron told us that he'd shown off his alchemy
ability, and it had made front page news in the Daily Prophet.  He promised to
send us a clipping.  
Visiting Ron and Hermione this summer was out of the question, since both were
spending the holiday abroad.  Hermione's family was visiting France and Ron was
using his newfound wealth to take his family to visit his older brother Bill,
who was a curse breaker in Egypt.  Ron confided his hope that seeing Bill would
be good for Ginny after what happened last term.  
"So, Harry," I said, looking up from my history of magic textbook as evening
approached, "once the three of us have finished up our summer homework, what do
you feel like doing?"  
"Ron's family's off in Egypt," said Harry cautiously, "but the practice field
near the Burrow's still there.  Do you think there'd be a problem heading out
there and doing some flying?"  
"Sounds fun," said Sloth.  "I can try out my new broom."  
It took us about a week to finish up our homework.  Harry was having some
trouble with Snape's essay on shrinking solutions, so the three of us went down
to the basement lab and brewed one of each type so we could observe the effects
firsthand.  A trip to the muggle library helped us supplement our history of
magic essays on the pointlessness of witch burnings.  Not that I was convinced
Professor Binns was aware enough of the students to really read our essays
anyway.  
Our homework done, the three of us loaded into the car with Hedwig and Loki,
tossed our broomsticks in the back, and headed for the Quidditch field.  Hedwig
circled overhead while Harry mounted his top of the line racing broom, and
Sloth and I mounted our alchemy-based equivalents.  
Sloth's and my broomsticks trailed streaks of blue light as we chased Harry
through the sky in an impromptu game of tag.  Sloth's staying power using
alchemy was improving, but after half an hour, she had to land, panting with
exhaustion.  
"Did you want to use a red stone to keep going?" I asked Sloth, pulling one out
of my pocket.  
"Maybe in a few minutes," she said, leaning against a tree.  "Harry, do you
mind if I try your broom?"  
"Sure," said Harry, holding his broomstick out to Sloth, "but I thought you
guys couldn't use regular brooms.  That's why you made those."  
"I attached Lockheart's soul to my body," explained Sloth.  "I'd have asked to
borrow your wand to check if that let me do magic, but underage magic would get
us in trouble if it worked."  
"And the broomstick has the same requirements, but doesn't count as underage
magic," said Harry.  
"Right," replied Sloth.  Then, "Up!"  
The broomstick stayed on the ground.  After a few more tries, we were forced to
conclude that the soul attachment hadn't done the job.  Whatever the key to
giving us magic of our own was, we'd have to keep looking.  Putting aside her
disappointment, Sloth accepted the red stone and got back on her broom.  
We came back out to the Quidditch field every day for the next four weeks. 
Harry took us through the drills that the Gryffindor Quidditch captain Olliver
Wood ran.  We each tried our hand at all four Quidditch positions, chaser,
keeper, beater, and seeker.  Under Harry's instruction, we improved immensely. 
Harry started lobbying we try for our House teams when the term started back
up. 
                                     * * *
Harry's birthday had arrived.  Waiting for him in the kitchen when he came
downstairs for breakfast was a large sheet cake with "Happy Birthday Harry,"
written in frosting and thirteen unlit candles.  I held up my right hand and a
transmutation circle drew itself on the back.  It was a modified flame alchemy
array I'd been tinkering with, incorporating some of the chemistry advances
this world's muggles had discovered.  It turned out a highly unstable nitrogen
based compound could be produced from common atmospheric elements that was
explosive enough that a few molecules positioned between the fingers could
completely obliviate the need for an ignition cloth glove.  I snapped, and all
thirteen candles lit at once.  
Sloth and I sange and encourage Harry to blow out the candles.  Giving
additional confirmation the Dursleys were horrible people, Harry responded like
someone who had seen this ritual performed before, but had never actually been
at the center of it.  We avoided calling attention to it.  
Hedwig's timing was remarkable, leading a small group of owls in through the
kitchen window just as Harry blew out the candles.  Birthday cards and presents
had arrived from Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione, as had Hogwarts letters for all
three of us.  
"Have a look," said Harry, passing a newspaper clipping from the Daily Prophet
that Ron had included with his card.  The photo showed Ron seated at a table
with Scabbers perched on his shoulder.  In front of a large crowd of witches
and wizards, Ron took oddly shaped lumps of dark colored metal, many of them
pipe fittings, and put them in a cauldron.  Alchemic light poured from the
cauldron and he withdrew a light colored ingot and added it to a stack.  The
headline read, "Hogwarts Student Surpasses World's Greatest Alchemists.  Turns
Lead Into Gold Without A Philosopher's Stone."  
"Good for him," I said, quickly reading over the article.  
Harry showed off his birthday gift from Ron.  It was a small glass top called a
sneakoscope.  It would light up and spin when someone untrustworthy was
around.  Ron had picked it up in Egypt.  Ron apparently was keeping the fact
that Harry's life was regularly endangered in mind.  
Hermione's gift was equally thoughtful, if less practical.  She'd sent Harry a
broomstick servicing kit he could use to maintain his racing broom.  
Hagrid's package moved when Harry went to open it.  The three of us gathered
close to see what it was.  Hagrid wasn't the sort of person to stuff a living
creature in a gift wrapped box with no air holes.  He'd barely consented to
crating Norbert the dragon for transport.  Harry pulled aside the wrapping
paper to reveal a book.  One with a vicious, personality that tried to snap
shut on our fingers like a pair of jaws.  
Loki growled threateningly at the Monster Book of Monsters, and seemed on the
verge of transforming when the three of us managed to tackle the book and
flatten it to the table.  I quickly transmuted a strap to bind it shut, though
it continued to struggle against the restraint.  
"Hagrid's card said it would come in handy this year," said Harry, baffled.  
"Between your new sneakoscope and this book," I said, "you shouldn't have to
worry about people going through your stuff again."  
"No one would dare," agreed Sloth.  
"Have I mentioned how irritating it is that Ginny could just walk into Harry's
dorm?" I asked.  "Why would they only put a gender alarm on the girls'
stairwell?"  
"Hermione did say wizards are bad at logic," reminded Sloth.  "Obviously
someone got it into their head that girls aren't interested in boys."  
All together, the three of us opened our Hogwarts letters.  I had quite a book
list thanks to my five electives this year.  On it was the Monster Book of
Monsters.  Either that was for Defense Against the Dark Arts or Care of Magical
Creatures.  I was also vaguely pleased that it was finally time to update my
transfiguration textbook, having mastered the content of the beginning book. 
It would have been in poor taste to say, but even with all my extra classes, I
still needed fewer books than last year thanks to Lockheart exploiting his
teaching position to boost his book sales.  I still didn't feel bad about
ripping out his soul.  
The envelopes also contained a permission slip.  For the first time, we would
be allowed to visit the village of Hogsmeade near the school on certain
weekends.  As I understood it, the only all wizard settlement in the British
Isles.  Everywhere else they hid in the cracks of muggle society.  Seeing what
wizards were like when they were living openly would be fascinating.  It was
bound to make Diagon Alley look mundane.  
There was only one problem, and glancing up to see the others staring at their
slips, we were all thinking the same thing.  To actually go on the Hogsmeade
weekend trips, we needed the signature of a parent or guardian.  
"I just told the Dursleys we didn't have to have anything more to do with each
other," said Harry.  
On cue, there was a knock at our front door.  Going to answer it, we blinked in
surprise at the presence of Vernon Dursley.  Spying the large birthday cake in
the kitchen, he huffed and seemed to hold back a biting comment.  Unpracticed
as he was at doing so, the process looked painful.  
"I need your help," were the words Vernon managed to force out through gritted
teeth.  
"Biwfdays work the othew way awound," said Sloth, affecting Nina's speech
impediment as she pretended to be a normal four year old innocently correcting
a mistake.  "Youw supposed to give Hawy Pwesants not ask him fow things."  
"She has a point," I noted, leaning casually against the door frame.  "You
haven't even wished Harry a happy birthday yet."  
Harry called us off with a gesture and approached Vernon, holding his
permission slip.  "Third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit the village
sometimes."  
"So?" snapped Vernon, forgetting he'd arrived at our door hat in hand.  
"I need you to sign the permission form.  You do that, and I'll help with
whatever you came over about int he first place."  
Considering, Vernon curtly nodded, then explained.  "Marge'll be here for a
week.  If you come back for the week, avoid any funny stuff, and don't let on
you've moved out, I'll sign your ruddy form."  
"Aunt Marge?" asked Harry with a shocked expression.  "She's coming?"  
"I was about to pick her up at the train station when I remembered what we'd
told her about you," confirmed Vernon.  
"Or rather that you hadn't told her you treated him so badly he left," I
challenged.  
Ignoring me, Vernon said, "We need to get a few things straight if you want
your form signed.  Firstly, you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're
talking to Marge.  Secondly, as Marge doesn't know anything about your
abnormality, I don't want any-any funny stuff while she's here.  You behave
yourself, got me?  And thirdly, we've told Marge you attend St. Brutus' Secure
Center for Incurably Criminal Boys."  
"What?" demanded Harry in a tone so loud and so outraged Loki turned back his
ears and growled threateningly.  Vernon got to watch the friendly brown dog
light up with blue light beneath his fur and a ring of red around his neck. 
Three hundred pounds of precision engineered, military grade chimera continued
to threateningly growl at Vernon Dursley.  I'd seen those armored green scales
take a hit from the equivalent of a tank round before, and those claws had
severed limbs without slowing their swing.  
"You see?" blustered Vernon as he quickly assessed that the three of us
standing in the door were between him and Loki.  "This is exactly the sort of
nonsense you have to cut out with Marge here."  
I carefully guided Loki forward, with a restraining hand on his golden, leonine
mane.  "You don't have to put up with him, Harry," I said.  "Let him try and
weasel out of his lies to Marge on his own."  Vernon had fallen silent with the
growling chimera now being held back only by my gentle touch.  
Harry took a steeling breath and said, "No, I'll do it."  
"If it gets to be too much, or if you need anything, we'll be right here,"
declared Sloth.  Then, placing a hand on Loki's mane, "All of us."  
Vernon swallowed and scurried back next door while Harry started sorting out
the details.  Sloth and I agreed readily to take care of Hedwig and to let Ron
and Hermione know what he was about to do.  After seeing Harry next door, I
stepped in our front yard and stomped a foot, using the array on my sole to so
perfectly grow and manicure our lawn that the Dursleys' next door looked
unkempt and shabby by comparison.  
                                     * * *
The week hadn't passed when Harry burst into our living room in a panic.  Angry
yelling was coming from next door.  
"We have to go!  We have to get our trunks and go!" said Harry, his face
flushed with a mixture of panic and outrage.  
"What happened?" I asked as I followed Harry's instructions and grabbed my
trunk.  
"I blew up aunt Marge," said Harry, pulling his trunk toward the garage.  
"You what?!" asked Sloth and I in unison.  
"She was insulting my parents, and I got bad, and she blew up like a balloon,
and now the Ministry of Magic will be coming, and I'll be expelled, and maybe
go to jail-"  
"Harry," I interrupted sharply.  "Is Marge still alive?"  
"I don't know," Harry admitted.  
"I'm going over there," I said.  "Sloth, bring Harry downstairs.  If the
Ministry wants to make an issue of it, we're better defended on our own
territory than out in the open."  
Loki tagged along with me as I ran next door towards the angry yelling.  On
entering, I saw Vernon trying to pull the grotesquely inflated Marge off the
ceiling while a bulldog tore at his pant leg.  Petunia had retrieved a broom
and was trying to use it to keep Marge steady.  Dudley was cowering behind a
table.  
"YOU!" yelled Vernon on spotting me.  "YOU PUT HER RIGHT THIS INSTANT!"  
Marge's eyes were moving, and there was some voluntary motion in her
fingertips.  It was a good sign.  If the transformation had killed her, there
would be nothing I could have done.  As it was, this would just be immensely
difficult and complicated alchemy on a living human.  I pulled out my wand and
pointed.  
"All three of you, get to the corner," I ordered.  Dudley complied immediately,
followed by Petunia.  Vernon looked like he was about to object, so I added,
"Fixing her is as complicated as normal reconstructive surgery, and I don't
need you distracting me."  
The bulldog was surprisingly less willing to listen to reason, so Loki forced
him out of my way.  Channeling power through the red stone on my wand, blue
light emanated from the wand and from the woman.  Lighter than air gasses were
transmuted back into heavy bone and muscle, and I was able to keep her
breathing throughout the entire process, and disrupt any pain signals her
nerves would be transmitting.  
When my work was done, I initially worried I'd made a mistake, as the resulting
appearance was far too close to Vernon's own, but the others didn't say
anything about it.  While I was trying to come up with something to tell her,
the door opened and two wizards entered, escorting Cornelius Fudge, the
Minister of Magic.  
"Put the wand down," instructed one of the wizards.  I complied.  
"Minister Fudge?" I asked, baffled.  "What are you doing here?"  
"Checking up on a report of underage magic.  And you are?"  
"Marcus Oren, Sr," I said.  
"And what are you doing here?" asked Fudge.  
"Harry Potter had a bit of uncontrolled magic.  I came here to set it right."  
"And where is Harry?" asked Fudge.  
"Is he in trouble?" I asked.  
"Over a bit of underage magic that's already been set right?  Hardly.  I do
want to know what you have to do with the boy."  
"My son is one of Harry's classmates.  When it happened, he came to him for
help."  
"I don't believe I've heard of your family," noted Fudge.  
"We're not originally from here," I explained.  "We moved from Amestris so my
son could go to Hogwarts.  We're actually right next door if you want to talk
to Harry."  
"I'll do that.  Can the two of you manage the cleanup here while I go talk to
Harry?"  
They nodded and I led the Minister of Magic next door, Loki coming along.  I
nodded to one of the cameras and offered Fudge a seat and some tea.  Sloth and
Harry entered the room cautiously.  
"There you are, Harry.  I am Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.  You've
had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you.  I'd thought that... but
you're safe and that's what matters."  
"You thought what?" I asked.  
"It's just that, in the present circumstances, hostile magics going off in
Harry's home, well, we didn't really expect a simple case of underage magic,
and we're relieved that's all it was."  
"Is Harry in danger?" I asked.  "More so than he usually is just for being the
Boy Who Lived, I mean."  
"Er, well, you see..." started Fudge, his eyes flitting between Harry and
Sloth.  
"Harry has a right to know if he's in danger," I said, "and I don't keep
secrets from Nina."  
"Oh, very well," said Fudge.  "You've heard about the Sirius Black breakout?"  
"No," said Harry.  
"We need to get a Daily Prophet subscription," noted Sloth.  
"Yes, well, Sirius Black was one of You-Know-Who's top supporters.  He escaped
from Azkaban and we believe he may come after Harry over what happened to You-
Know-Who.  Now, I don't want to worry you unnecessarily.  Black will be
recaptured.  It's only a matter of time.  The Azkaban guards have never yet
failed, and they're angrier than I've ever seen them."  Fudge involuntarily
shuddered at the thought.  
"Well, in any case," said Fudge, "I'm sure you'll understand why we'd like you
to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."  
"I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," said Harry. 
"What about my punishment?"  
"Punishment?" asked Fudge.  
"I broke the law.  The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry."  
"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that. 
It was an accident.  We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their
aunts."  
"What do you send people to Azkaban for?" I asked.  "What did Sirius Black do?"
 
Fudge sighed and said, "Sirius Black famously murdered a dozen muggles with a
single curse.  When he was found, he was actually laughing among the bodies, or
rather, what was left of them."  
"We'll make sure Harry's safe," I said.  "We knew Voldemort's shade might be
coming after him when we agreed to let him stay."  
After a few final pleasantries, Fudge left.  Harry noted that they must be very
worried about Black indeed to overlook what had happened to Marge, given that
last year they threatened to expel him after Dobby had levitated some pudding.
 
The next couple of weeks before we were to meet Ron and Hermione in Diagon
Alley we continued to visit the Quidditch field.  That wasn't to say we weren't
taking Black's threat seriously.  Harry wouldn't be able to use magic to
practice defense, so instead I muffled the noise around the field with alchemy,
set up some targets, and got started showing Harry how to use a gun.  
                                     * * *
On the appointed day, we piled into the car and headed to London.  Sloth and I
adopted our thirteen year old Hogwarts student appearances as we got out of the
car.  Deciding to keep an eye out for the others while we shopped, we'd gotten
all our new books (and tied up the two new monster books) and our new robes
before spotting Ron and Hermione outside an ice cream parlor.  They also had
their new books.  We must've missed each other.  
Both excitedly asked about the incident with Marge before the conversation
drifted toward out new school things.  Ron was eager to show off his new
Firebolt broomstick.  Harry was in awe of the professional grade racing broom
and Ron went over the features and professional teams that had ordered them. 
When Harry expressed jealousy, Ron puffed up and told him not to worry.  
"Remember how Malfoy bought his way onto the Slytherin team last year with
those Nimbus 2001s?  I donated a full set of seven Firebolts to the Gryffindor
team.  That'll show him."  
"Wood'll be over the moon," noted Harry.  
"I guess that just leaves Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff without wealthy sponsors,"
noted Sloth.  "What do you say we even the playing field, Greed?"  
"It would be nice to get the game back to talent versus talent," I said.  
"You two go ahead," said Hermione.  "I've still got ten galleons.  It's my
birthday in September and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early
birthday presant."  
"Where do we meet?" asked Sloth.  
"I really want an owl," said Hermione.  "I mean Harry's got Hedwig, Ron's got
Erol-"  
"I haven't.  Erol's a family owl, and he's being retired from deliveries.  All
I've got is Scabbers, and I want to get him checked over.  I don't think Egypt
agreed with him."  
The owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies looked at Sloth and I skeptically when
we asked for seven Firebolts apiece.  His look shifted to greed when I started
stacking galleons on the table and suggested he tell me when to stop.  We had
them shipped to Hogwarts as an anonymous donation to our respective House
teams.  
Harry and Ron were right outside the shop when we exited, coaxing Scabbers out
from under a waste basket.  
"What was that?" asked Ron.  
"It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger," said Harry dryly.  
"What's going on?" asked Sloth.  
"At the pet store, this huge cat tried to eat Scabbers," explained Ron,
stroking the panicking rat to calm him down.  
"Are we still meeting outside th creatures shop?" I asked.  
"Yeah," said Harry.  "Hermione's probably getting her owl now."  
We arrived in time to see Hermione leaving the shop without an owl and carrying
a large orange cat.  
"You bought that monster?" demanded Ron, holding a hand over the pocket he'd
put Scabbers in protectively.  
"He's gorgeous isn't he?" asked Hermione.  
"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.  
"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" purred Hermione.  
"And what about Scabbers?" demanded Ron.  "He needs rest and relaxation.  How's
he going to get it with that thing around?"  
Hermione produced a bottle and handed it to Ron.  "That reminds me, you forgot
your rat tonic.  And stop worrying.  Crookshanks will be sleeping in my
dormitory and Scabbers in yours.  What's the problem?  Poor Crookshanks.  That
witch said he'd been in there for ages.  No one wanted him."  
"I wonder why..." said Ron sarcastically.  
Loki sniffed at the cat, who purred in greeting.  We all headed to Diagon
Alley's main tavern, the Leaky Cauldron, where Hermione was staying with the
Weasleys.  Harry, Sloth, and I got rooms as well, agreeing to head to the
Hogwarts Express together the next day.  The Ministry of Magic was providing
transportation and security.  No one wanted to say it, but it was obviously to
protect Harry from Sirius Black.  
At some point in the night, Harry overheard Arthur and Molly Weasley talking
about Black.  It was more than speculation he was after Harry.  Apparently, the
guards reported Black had been talking in his sleep before the breakout,
muttering, "He's at Hogwarts."  Harry relayed this to Ron, Hermione, Sloth, and
I over breakfast using parseltongue to avoid our conversation being overheard
at the crowded table.  
                                     * * *
Author's comments:
Accepting the butterfly effect of the first two books, there was no way the
sweepstakes drawing was going to play out the same way it did originally. 
Fortunately, Ron now has an entirely different reason to be in the papers. 
***** Gain and Loss *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 25) Gain and Loss
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *


The Ministry's drivers were terrible.  They weaved through gaps too narrow to
accommodate their cars, using magic to get things out of their way and put them
back in place where they'd passed, including trees and telephone poles.  I'd
have felt safer in Arthur Weasley's flying car.  That thing at least knew how
to avoid obstacles.  Sure, I wouldn't die in a car crash, but it'd still hurt.
 

The Hogwarts Express was already quite crowded when we arrived, since despite
their deranged driving, the Ministry drivers still arrived later than I
generally liked to.  As a result, Sloth and I broke off from the others to find
a compartment.  Luckily, we found one with Ginny, Luna, and Neville inside and
were invited to join them.  We went ahead and shared the summer's news,
including what we knew about the Sirius Black escape.  

"It's scary," said Neville.  "No one's ever escaped from Azkaban before.  Who
knows what else Black's capable of?"  

"Is there anything we can do to protect Harry?" asked Ginny.  Blushing, she
added, "After last year, it'd be nice to be on the other side of that."  

"You were under mind control," said Sloth.  "No one blames you for what
happened."  

"I do," replied Ginny.  

"Then what do you way we make sure it never happens again?" I suggested.  

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny.  

"It's called Occlumency," I explained.  "It's a skill for keeping unwanted
intrusions out of your mind.  I was planning on teaching our little
parseltongue club this year, since at least Harry and Ron definitely need it."
 

"How do you know occlumency?" asked Neville.  

"Dumbledore taught me and Sloth first year because we know how to make a
Philosopher's Stone," I replied.  "No one wants that knowledge to fall into the
wrong hands."  

"If you ever need to talk about what happened, Ginny," said Sloth seriously,
"I've been through something similar.  Before I came to Hogwarts..."  

"I'm sorry to hear that.  Are you okay?" asked Ginny.  

"I wasn't as lucky as you were," admitted Sloth.  "I was made to do things I
can't take back.  That said, I've learned to live with it."  

"You know," said Luna, "if it doesn't bring back to many bad memories, we can
teach you parseltongue too.  You weren't the only one Riddle manipulated last
year, and I'll bet you and the basilisk would have a lot to talk about."  

The conversation drifted from there.  The Honeydukes cart came by and I treated
everyone to their choice of sweets.  Hours later I was explaining my system of
using Chocolate Frog cards to keep track of what happened when in History of
Magic when the train slowed, then jolted to a stop.  As it happened, the lights
went out.  I lit my wand and the others followed suit.  

"Have we broken down?" asked Sloth.  

"No idea," replied Ginny.  

Before we could question further, the door to our compartment opened and a
tall, black cloaked figure entered.  As the figure drew a breath that sounded
like a death rattle, the temperature dropped and I could feel a psychic
intrusion.  My occlumency training was utterly useless in stopping it, but
allowed me to perceive, in detail, what was happening.  Happy thoughts and
memories were being drawn out of my mind towards that breath, as though
whatever was beneath the cloak were a black hole of joy.  

Left within me, were all my worst memories, now competing only with one another
for my attention.  I heard the screams of the dying in Liore, and saw the
people being torn apart by the alchemy I had known was coming and hadn't
stopped.  Through a haze of guilt and remembered pain, I was vaguely aware that
I'd collapsed to the ground.  The figure leaned over me and pulled back its
hood, revealing a face like a decayed corpse, lacking eyes, but possessing
scabbed over sockets, and with a gaping hole instead of a mouth.  

I couldn't muster enough motivation to fight a the creature latched its inhuman
mouth over my own and breathed in more strongly than before.  There was no
point fighting.  All I could remember were all the awful things I'd seen,
experienced, and done.  I couldn't remember a time things had gone well.  

Then, something silvery and luminous flickered out of the corner f my eye and
the creature withdrew from the compartment.  A wizard with brown hair with a
bit of grey, wearing patched robes was soon leaning over me.  

"Who are you?" I asked my savior.  

"Professor Remus Lupin," he said, pulling a large bar of chocolate out of a
pocket.  "Here, eat it.  It'll help."  

I did as requested, with the others accepting chocolate and eating as well. 
The chocolate did help.  It turned out that my happy memories weren't
permanently gone, just suppressed and robbed of power in that creature's
presence.  I found Sloth's hand and squeezed.  

"What was that thing?" asked Sloth.  

"A dementor.  One of the dementors of Azkaban," explained Lupin.  "Now, I may
be needed elsewhere, if you'll excuse me."  

When he'd gone, I asked, "Did we just get our lives saved by the new defense
professor?"  Then I broke into hysterical laughter.  

"That was awful," said Neville as Sloth and I sat up shakily from the floor. 
"Looks as though you two got the worst of it, though."  

Ginny had broken out in a cold sweat and Luna was holding her legs to try and
stop trembling.  I didn't feel well enough to stand until I'd finished my
chocolate.  Rather than talk, the five of us somehow ended up in a group hug
for most of the rest of the trip.  That helped almost as much as the chocolate
had.  

The five of us got off the train together and boarded one of the thestral
pulled carriages.  We were collectively starting to relax when a familiar chill
passed over the carriage and we looked up to see a pair of tall, black cloaked
dementors perched over the school gate.  The feeling passed quickly and we
arrived at the school proper.  

"Potter!  Granger!  Oren!  Tucker!" came a call from Professor McGonagall, head
of Gryffindor house and deputy headmistress.  Harry, Hermione, Sloth, and I
approached.  Shooing the others, she added, "There's no need to look so
worried.  I just want a word in my office.  Move along."  

Neville, Ron, and Luna headed for the Great Hall while the four of us followed
McGonagall up to her office.  She took a seat and said, "Professor Lupin sent
an owl ahead to say that you three had taken ill on the train."  She indicated
Harry, Sloth, and I.  

As if on cue, Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, entered.  "You, I expected," she
said to Harry.  Then she turned to Sloth and I, saying, "I'm surprised I
haven't had to treat you two before with everything you get up to."  She
started checking us over while Harry protested that he was fine.  

"It was a dementor, Poppy," explained McGonagall.  

"Setting dementors around a school," said Madam Pomfrey disapprovingly.  "They
won't be the last ones who collapse.  Terrible things they are, and the effect
they have on people who are already delicate."  

"I'm not delicate!" protested Harry.  

"Madam Pomfrey," I ventured, "What did the dementors do to us?"  

"Terrible creatures," she repeated half to herself.  "They suck the joy right
out of a person.  It gets even worse with longer exposure."  

"What do they need?" asked McGonagall.  "Bed rest?  Should they, perhaps, spend
the night in the hospital wing?"  

"I'm fine!" declared Harry.  

"I think I'm okay, too," I said.  

Sloth nodded and said, "Now that it's gone, I'm fine."  

"Well, they should have some chocolate at the very least," said Madam Pomfrey.
 

"I've already had some," said Harry.  "Professor Lupin gave me some."  

"He gave some to us too," reported Sloth.  

"Did he now?" said Madam Pomfrey, nodding.  "So, we've finally got a Defense
Against the Dark Arts professor who knows his remedies."  

"Are you sure you feel alright?" confirmed McGonagall.  We affirmed we did. 
"Very well, Potter, Tucker, please wait outside while I have a quick word with
Mr. Oren and Miss Granger about their course schedules, then we can go down to
the feast together."  

Sloth, Harry, and Madam Pomfrey stepped outside.  Professor McGonagall bade
Hermione and I to have a seat, and checked her watch.  

"We aren't going to have to drop anything, are we?" asked Hermione with
concern.  

"No, Miss Granger, you'll both be able to attend all your electives, provided
you agree to certain conditions."  

"What conditions?" I asked.  

"First and foremost, absolute secrecy regarding precisely how," replied
McGonagall.  "You see, I have personally written to the Ministry on your
behalf, noting your exemplary academic record and your fine moral character. 
After several attempts, they agreed to loan each of you the use if a time
turner to aid with your studies."  

"Time turner?" I asked.  

Professor McGonagall took two tiny hourglasses from her desk drawer.  Each
hourglass was attached to a fine gold chain.  

"It would be simplest to show you, Mr. Oren.  I'll need the both of you to stay
in your seats and stay quiet."  

At that point, a blur appeared in the office, which coalesced nearly instantly
into the form of another Professor McGonagall, Hermione Granger, and Marcus
Oren.  A fine gold chain was draped around all three, and McGonagall was
holding the tiny hourglass it was attached to.  The second McGonagall gathered
up the chain and handed the assembly to the other me.  She gave a second time
turner she had been carrying to Hermione.  The three of them quickly stepped
out the door.  

"Professor, that was us, wasn't it?" asked Hermione.  "Us from the future?"  

"That is correct, Miss Granger," she replied, satisfied.  "Time travel is not
to be taken lightly.  You are being given this opportunity as a favor and a
privilege, and only because I have assured the Ministry that you will use it
only for the purpose it is being lent to you for."  

I stared at the tiny device, considering the possibilities.  First and
foremost, with such a tool, I wouldn't need to worry about the time
differential between worlds when traveling through the Gate.  Sloth and I could
be guaranteed to arrive back in our home world within a week of our departure
even after a full seven year education at Hogwarts.  

"Each turn of a time turner will bring you back one hour in time.  I cannot
emphasize strongly enough that you must not be seen using it, and that you must
never interact with your past self," continued McGonagall.  

"Why?" I asked.  "What would happen if we did?"  

"Besides the loss of your access to the device for breaking the rules," said
McGonagall, "terrible things have been known to happen to witches and wizards
who meddle with time.  More than one witch has mistaken the appearance of her
future self for an enemy and ended up killing herself.  

"As a result, use of time turners is circumscribed by hundreds of laws,
procedures, and regulations that you will both be expected to abide by.  The
most critical of which are that you will not attempt to alter past events and
that no one learns you have a time turner, not even your closest friends."  

"Won't they notice when we're in two places at once?" asked Hermione.  

"Strict secrecy, Miss Granger," said McGonagall sharply.  "Avoid raising
suspicions and don't confirm anything if asked.  I'm not expecting you to lie,
but if it comes down to it, just explain that you can't talk about it."  

"A few technical questions?" I requested.  

"Go ahead, Mr. Oren," said McGonagall.  

"Do we need to be careful about where we're standing when we activate these
things?  I mean, what if another student was standing in the same spot an hour
ago?"  

Professor McGonagall smiled benignly.  "You needn't worry too much, Mr. Oren. 
Where you arrive in the past can be somewhat random, but I've never heard of
the spot being occupied.  At worst, you might bump into someone."  

"It's random?" I said, confused.  

"The time you arrive is exact.  The place isn't.  No one is completely sure
what impacts the where, but if you stick to the rules, you're likely to arrive
close to where you need to be."  

"Is there a limit on how often it can be used?" asked Hermione.  "I mean, after
so many uses would we need to take it in to be replaced or serviced?"  

"Objects with the power to control time aren't prone to general decay or
limited uses," explained McGongagall.  "I would keep it safe, however, as they
are still made of glass.  From what I understand, they can be quite dangerous
if broken."  

"Is there a way to use it to go forward instead of back?" I asked.  "In case we
turn it too many times on accident?"  

"I'm afraid in that case, you would have to come forward one minute per minute
just like the rest of us," replied McGonagall dryly.  

Our questions answered and warnings issued, both Hermione and I agreed to the
terms.  McGonagall bade us stand up and wrapped the thin gold chain of one of
the time turners around the three of us and gave the tiny hourglass a turn. 
There was a peculiar sensation like rushing backward, and then I found myself
in the office with my past self.  Per instructions, I accepted the time turner
from McGonagall, placed it inside my robes, and quickly left, meeting up with
Sloth and Harry waiting outside the office.  

We arrived in the Great Hall after the sorting, but in time for Headmaster
Dumbledore's announcements.  I had time to find a seat at the Ravenclaw table
near Luna and smile greetings to the new first years.  

"Welcome," said Dumbledore.  "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts.  I have a
few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it
best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent
feast.  

"As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our
school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are
here on Ministry of Magic business.  They are stationed at every entrance to
the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to
leave the school without permission.  Dementors are not fooled by tricks or
disguises, or even invisibility cloaks.  It is not in the nature of a dementor
to understand pleading or excuses.  I therefor warn each and every one of you
to give them no reason to harm you.  I look to the prefects, and our new head
boy and girl to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors.  

"On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this
year.  First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of
Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  

"As to the second appointment, well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor
Kettleborn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last
year in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs.  However, I am
delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubius
Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his game
keeping duties.  

"Well, I think that's everything of importance.  Let the feast begin!"  
                                     * * *


The next day, I got the chance to try out my new time turner, since Arithmancy,
Divination, and Muggle Studies were all scheduled as my first class in the
morning.  Arithmancy looked as though it was going to be interesting.  Among
the applications of magical number theory was understanding the significance of
wand measurements, and by extension, improving upon my earlier, crude
attempts.  Turning the hourglass pendant, I found myself near to where I'd been
after breakfast and hurried off to Muggle Studies, where I could get a more
systematic view of how this world's peoples and technology differed from the
worlds I was familiar with.  Finally, one last turn and I was on my way to the
tower classroom where we would be studying Divination.  

Students were gathered at the top of the stairs under a door affixed to the
ceiling.  I quickly found Sloth among them.  Neville was apparently also taking
this class.  

"Greed, I lost track of you when we left breakfast," said Sloth.  

"Sorry about that," I said.  "I needed to check in with my other classes before
coming here."  

Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived, and as soon as Harry asked how we were going
to get up to the classroom, the door opened and a ladder lowered.  Timing like
that was a good sign, given the subject matter.  

The classroom was extremely warm, with soft, cushy armchairs, dim, red tinted
light filtering through drapes over the windows.  A scent of incense filled the
room.  It all contributed to a feeling of wanting to doze off.  The chairs and
pillows were grouped around tables and shelves of equipment lined the walls.  

We got ou first look at the Divination professor.  She was a tall, thin woman
with very poor eyesight judging from her thick glasses.  She dressed in gauzy
layers with a lot of loose fitting jewelry.  She moved slowly, gliding through
the classroom as if only half awake herself.  When she spoke, it was quiet and
airy.  

"Welcome," she said.  "How nice to see you in the physical world at last.  Sit,
my children."  

I sat in a comfortable looking chair at a table with Sloth,next to the table
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had claimed.  

"Welcome to Divination.  My name is Professor Trelawney.  You may not have seen
me before.  I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the
main school clouds my inner eye.  

"So, you have chosen to study divination, the most difficult of all magical
arts.  I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there
is very little I will be able to teach you.  Books can take you only so far in
this field.  Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of
loud bangs, and smells, and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate
the veiled mysteries of the future.  It is a gift granted to few."  

At first I felt relieved.  If this was something witches and wizards weren't
really expected to be able to do, making mistakes and failing here wouldn't
reveal Sloth and I weren't wizards.  Looking up at Sloth, however, I saw she
was nervously twisting one of her braids between her hands.  I recalled that
she had taken the minimum number of elective courses, meaning that if she
couldn't pass this class, she wouldn't have anything to fall back on.  I tried
to turn my relieved smile into an encouraging one.  

"You, boy," said Professor Trelawney to Neville, "is your grandmother well?"  

"I think so," replied Neville.  

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," she said.  Then, continuing on, "We will
be covering the basic methods of divination this year.  The first term will be
devoted to reading tea leaves.  Next term, we shall progress to palmistry.  By
the way my dear," she said suddenly to Sloth, "it isn't a cat and you shouldn't
trust it."  

Sloth looked suddenly at Hermione, who's expression was mildly exasperated.  

"In the second term," continued Professor Trelawney, "we shall progress to the
crystal ball, if we have finished with fire omens, that is.  Unfortunately,
class will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu.  I myself will lose
my voice.  And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."  

From there, Professor Trelawney poured us each a cup of tea,and instructed us
on how to interpret the patterns in the dregs of one another's tea cups, and
made various predictions as we went along.  Sloth and I drank our tea, swirled
the dregs as instructed, then swapped cups, comparing the patterns we saw with
those in our divination textbooks.  

"Trials and suffering... conflict... friendship?" said Sloth, examining my
cup.  "If I'm getting this right, you're in for a rough year and will be
needing your friends."  

"As for you," I said, going over her cup, "Growth... good fortune and
happiness.  Looks like you're doing a lot better than I am."  We smiled at one
another.  

Suddenly, Professor Trelawney screamed.  She'd been helping interpret Harry's
cup.  She collapsed into a chair, overwhelmed by what she had seen.  

"My dear boy, my poor dear boy.  No, it is kinder not to say.  No.  Don't ask
me," said Professor Trelawney.  

"What is it, Professor?" asked the Gryffindor Dean.  

"Dean!" I snapped.  "What did she just say?"  

"My dear," said Trelawney to Harry, "you have the grim."  

"The what?" asked Harry when half the class gasped.  

"The grim, my dear, the grim," said Trelawney urgently.  "The giant spectral
dog that haunts churchyards!  My dear boy, it is an omen.  The worst omen.  Of
death!"  

As we considered this information, Hermione looked over the professor's
shoulder and reported, "I don't think that it looks like a grim."  

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear," said Trelawney, "but I perceive
very little aura around you.  Very little receptivity to the resonances of the
future."  

The lesson concluded shortly thereafter and I had to say goodbye to the others
and get to charms with the other Ravenclaws.  Harry's death omen would soon be
the farthest thing from my mind.  

Professor Flitwick had provided each of us with a candle for a start of term
review of flame freezing charms.  I said the incantation, pointed my wand, and
nothing happened.  No blue light emanated from the intricate transmutation
circle engraved along the wand's length.  I quickly looked over the wand for
damage, expecting, perhaps, a small crack having broken the array.  Finding
none, I tried the red stone at the wand's tip, but I couldn't make it transmute
the air either.  

Growing frustrated, I clapped my hands and gripped the wand, intending to
simplify the multipurpose array, but again, there was no alchemic light, and
the lines of the array refused to work.  My alchemy wasn't working at all.  

I thought back to the last time I'd successfully used alchemy.  I was on the
train.  The lights had gone out, and I used the light from a simple
transmutation to see by.  This was just before the dementor!  The creature had
leaned over me, drawing out my happy memories.  It had taken more than that.  

"That thing ate my soul!" I yelled out suddenly, startling my classmates.  I
was trembling with rage.  I wanted to find the monster that did this to me, rip
off its limbs, and beat it to death with them.  One hand was on my head, tense
fingers digging into the skin, while the other clutched my chest.  I hadn't
even noticed when it happened.  

"Marcus," said Professor Flitwick gently.  I looked up at the elderly wizard
miserable.  I was on the verge of tears.  "I think you should go to the
hospital wing."  

"R-right," I said, twitching slightly as I unclenched the muscles in my limbs
so I could stand up.  I walked unsteadily into the hall, with a vague idea of
finding Madam Pomfrey.  But what could she do about this?  I'd looked into what
wizards knew about the soul, and as far as I'd determined, my only real answer
would be to use one of my coins to attach a new soul to my body like I'd done
for Sloth.  In an empty hall, far from either teachers or other students, the
frustration got to be too much, and I punched a wall, pulverizing a large chunk
of heavy stone into dust.  

Looking through the new doorway sized opening into the empty classroom beyond,
I instantly regretted the destructive outburst.  Getting to my knees, I took a
bit of chalk from my pocket and sketched a transmutation circle.  It felt
clumsy and crude doing it this way, but I had a responsibility to fix what I'd
broken.  With the circle completed, I touched a spare red stone to the center,
causing the array to glow red.  Pulverized stone melted back into the wall and
floor, and the opening sealed as though the damage had never happened.  

Then I got to my feet and found the hospital wing.  Fixing the wall had been a
good reminder that I wasn't helpless.  Even without a soul, Sloth had managed
her first two years of classes.  I'd just need to adopt her style until I got a
chance to retrieve a new soul.  

"Professor Flitwick sent me," I said with a downcast gaze when Madam Pomfrey
opened the door.  "I think I had a delayed reaction to the dementor from
yesterday."  

"Come in and let me have a look," said Madam Pomfrey.  "Honestly, putting
creatures like that around a school..."  Sh checked my temperature and vitals. 
Everything was fine, as I knew it would be.  They didn't have a test for a
missing soul.  

"I've heard dementors can steal your soul," I lied.  "Is it true?"  

"They can," said Madam Pomfrey, handing me a large piece of chocolate.  "It's a
punishment the Ministry reserves for the worst criminals.  Black's likely
fate.  But they aren't allowed without special orders from the Ministry."  

So, not only was it a soul eating monster, but it broke the law when it ate my
soul.  Unless someone in the Ministry of Magic authorized that.  As I chewed on
the chocolate that served as a remedy for exposure to them, an idea half formed
in my mind.  I'd need to start keeping chocolate on me alongside my bezoars as
general first aid supplies.  
                                     * * *


The stew at lunch was warn and tasty.  It was a nice affirmation that I was
still alive and could still partake in life's pleasures.  Hadn't I spent all
that time telling Sloth she shouldn't think of herself as lesser just because
she didn't have a soul?  It was a handicap and would take some adjustment, but
I was still me.  The dementor hadn't taken that away.  

I didn't have any further classes requiring a wand that day.  It was just Care
of Magical Creatures with Hagrid.  Getting out into the fresh air would be good
for me, and I could talk with Sloth after.  Because it was an elective, the
classes were mixed.  Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were talking when I arrived.  

"Did they let you out of the hospital wing so soon?" asked Malfoy as I
arrived.  "I heard you lost it in Charms.  'It ate my soul!'"  Crabbe and Goyle
chuckled at Draco's high pitched, whiny impression of me.  "What happened?  Did
Flitwick's pet student doze off in class and have a nightmare about the big,
bad dementors?"  

"If the next words out of your mouth aren't an apology, Malfoy, they'll be the
last ones you speak today," said Sloth, who'd arrived in the middle of Draco's
taunts.  

"Going to let your girlfriend fight your battles for you?" drawled Draco.  

"Hm, not an apology," mused Sloth.  She waved her wand and spoke an
incantation.  The transmutation circle on her wand glowed blue, and Draco fell
silent, looking a lot less smug.  

"Thanks," I said.  

"Are you okay, Greed?" she asked, concerned.  

"I'll explain after class," I promised.  

Crabbe and Goyle were trying to perform a countercurse to restore Draco's
paralyzed vocal cords to proper functioning.  

"You know standard countercurses don't work on our alchemy based spell
simulations," I whispered to Sloth.  "It'll be suspicious if they can't fix
him."  

"It'll be even more suspicious if Crabbe and Goyle don't take a few dozen tries
to get it right," Sloth whispered back.  

I grinned.  "Good point."  

The Gryffindors arrived and Sloth silently waved her wand at Draco.  Goyle
looked very proud of himself while Draco whispered invectives in our general
direction.  With the class all here, Hagrid greeted us and led us around to an
empty paddock.  

"Everyone gather around the fence here.  That's it," instructed Hagrid.  "Make
sure you can see.  Now, first thing you'll want to do is open your books."  

"How?" asked Draco, glancing at Sloth as though his restored voice proved he
and his gang had bested her.  She rolled her eyes in response.  

"Eh?" asked Hagrid.  

"How do we open our books?" Draco repeated.  

Looking around at all of us with our tied down books, Hagrid asked, "Hasn't-
hasn't anyone been able to open their books?  You've got to stroke 'em.  Look."
 

Hagrid borrowed a book and ran a finger down its spine.  It instantly stopped
struggling and opened.  I tried the same with mine and got the same effect.  

"Oh, how silly we've all been.  We should have stroked them.  Why didn't we
guess?" Malfoy berated Hagrid.  

"I-I thought they were funny," said Hagrid.  

"Oh tremendously funny," Draco continued.  "Really witty, giving us books that
try and rip our hands off."  

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry.  

"Right then," said Hagrid, trying to retake control of the class.  "So, you've
got your books and now you need the magical creatures.  Yeah, so I'll go and
get 'em. Hang on."  Hagrid left.  

"God, this place is going to the dogs," complained Draco.  "That oaf teaching
classes.  My father'll have a fit when I tell him."  

"Shut up, Malfoy," repeated Harry.  

"Or I'll shut you up again," added Sloth.  

Malfoy fell silent, and Hagrid led out a dozen creatures that looked like
crosses between eagles and horses.  He brought hem to the fence and tied their
collars to it with lengths of chain.  

"Hippogriffs," said Hagrid by way of identification.  "Beautiful, aren't they?"
 

They were indeed.  They had the same sleek, deadly elegance of a well crafted
chimera.  The sharp beaks and foretalons looked more than capable of doing some
damage, and their broad backs were perfect for carrying riders.  The wings were
too small to carry a creature this size without a magical boost, but otherwise,
their bodies were well made and balanced enough to have been crafted by a
master alchemist.  

"So," continued Hagrid, "if you want to come a bit nearer.  Now, first thing
you got to know about hippogriffs is they're proud.  Easily offended,
hippogriffs are.  Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing you
do.  

"You always wait for the hippogriff to make the first move.  It's polite, see? 
You walk towards him, and you bow, and you wait.  If he bows back, you're
allowed to touch him.  If he doesn't bow, then get away from him sharpish,
'cause those talons hurt.  Right, who wants to go first?"  

I stepped forward.  The rest of the students had their misgivings, but I had
experience with dangerous creatures from back before I became immortal.  Follow
directions and read the creature's body language, and you're generally fine.  

"Good man, Greed," said Hagrid, untying one of the hippogriffs.  "Right, then. 
Let's see how you get on with Buckbeak.  Easy now, Greed.  You've got eye
contact, now try not to blink.  Hippogriffs don't trust you if you blink too
much.  That's it.  That's it, Greed.  Now bow."  

I took a low, deliberate bow, keeping my eyes fixed on the creature so I'd know
if it reciprocated.  I held the pose for a long moment without Buckbeak moving
a muscle.  

"Ah, right.  Back away now, Greed.  Easy does it."  

No sooner had Hagrid said that than Buckbeak bent his forelegs and lowered his
head.  

"Well done, Greed," said Hagrid happily.  "Right, you can touch him.  Pat his
beak.  Go on."  

I did as instructed, patting the large creature's sharp beak.  The hippogriff's
body language said he was happy and comfortable.   So much so that Hagrid
suggested I see if he'd let me ride him.  I noted as I took flight on the
hippogriff's back that while it was slower than the thestrals had been,I was
more at ease on the more thickly muscled hippogriff.  

Once I'd landed and dismounted, the rest of the class was encouraged to try
approaching the creatures.  Everything was going well until I heard Draco
Malfoy, who was patting Buckbeak, violate the first rule Hagrid laid out.  

"I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?  Are you, you great ugly brute."  

Insulted, Buckbeak attacked just as Hagrid said he would.  Sharp avian talons
cut deep into the flesh of Draco's arm.  He was losing blood fast. Hagrid
wrestled the enraged hippogriff away from the stupid, injured Slytherin.  

"Greed?" prompted Sloth, indicating Draco's wounds.  

"I can't," I choked, the feeling of helplessness returning full force.  

"I'm dying!  I'm dying!  Look at me!  It's killed me!"  If Draco kept losing
blood at this rate, he might turn out to be right.  

"You're not dying!" said Hagrid, hoping more than believing it was true. 
"Someone help me.  Got to get him out of here."  

Hermione got the gate and ran ahead of Hagrid, who scooped up Draco and
sprinted for the castle.  He'd managed to secure the hippogriffs before
attending to Draco, so the rest of us were left to wander off from the now
obviously canceled class.  

Pansy Parkinson, one of the Slytherins, was in tears.  "They should fire him
straight away!"  

"That was Malfoy's fault!" countered Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor.  

When Crabbe and Goyle took a step towards Dean, I added, "Draco ignored the
first rule Hagrid told him.  These are dangerous, wild animals, not pets.  This
experience ought to teach him to pay more attention in class."  

Pansy broke off from the rest of our group and headed for the hospital wing,
saying, "I'm going to see if he's okay!"  

Sloth and I headed for the Quidditch field where she took my hand and lowered
us both through the earth into our hidden underground lab.  

"What's wrong, Greed?" asked Sloth seriously when we were alone.  "Draco's an
ass, but that wouldn't stop you saving his life."  

I took out my wand and held it for a moment, before explaining, "I can't do
alchemy.  I haven't been able to since the dementor attack."  

"Oh my... Greed, your soul..."  

"I asked Madam Pomfrey.  Dementors can eat souls.  They apparently aren't
supposed to, but that one did.  I guess it's a good thing it went after me
instead of Luna or Ginny or Neville.  None of them could have survived without
a soul."  

"Use mine.  We can detach it from me and attach it to you."  

"No."  

"I'm used to not having one.  I can go back easier than you can adjust."  

"No," I repeated.  "That's your soul now, and I'm not going to take something
away from you for my own benefit."  

"But Greed-"  

"Besides, I won't have long to wait.  Once Sirius Black inevitably makes his
move on Harry, I'll have a replacement.  So don't worry.  The tricky part will
be adapting my alchemy style while we wait so I can keep pretending be a
wizard, but you managed it for two years."  

"Are you sure?" she asked.  

"Yeah," I said.  "I sort of lost it when I realized it happened, but I'm going
to be okay."  

"You do realize I did as well as I did by changing the array on my wand with my
powers.  How are you going to manage?"  

I took a red stone and some wood and constructed a new kind of wand while Sloth
watched.  It bore the same transmutation circle as Sloth used to emulate the
hover charm, but a section of the wood was put on a sliding switch, allowing
the array to be broken or reattached as needed.  

"Nice," said Sloth, "but you're going to need one of those for every spell you
know."  

"We've got the stones for it," I said.  

"And when you need a new spell unexpectedly?  You're a terrific alchemist, and
I believe you can come up with the array you'd need to use on the fly, but
how're you going to carve it into a fresh fake wand in the middle of class?"  

"I'll go back in time and warn myself what wand I'll need so I'll be prepared
already each day," I said with a grin.  I had been looking forward to telling
her before the whole soul loss thing distract me.  

"Go back in time?"  

I pulled out the time turner McGonagall had given me.  "It's called a time
turner.  It's how I'm going to take classes that are happening at the same
time.  I'm not supposed to tell anyone the Ministry's letting me use one."  

"You realize with that, we could stop worrying if we'll get back to Amestris
before Winry and the others mount a rescue mission."  

"I had thought of that, yes.  In fact, I've come up with a lot of uses to put
it to, starting with not needing to time our private getaways for when
Gryffindor Quidditch team isn't practicing, and not needing to worry about
being missed if we're down here too long."  
                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Greed's never really been forced to rely on his innate homunculus powers.  When
he was fighting Nazis, whenever his powers were available to him, so was his
alchemy, so he didn't rely on them.  Now that his alchemy isn't there to fall
back on, at least not the same way he's used to, he's going to have to learn
what he can do without it. 
***** Romantic Interlude 17 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 26) Romantic Interlude 17
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 27.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


"Let me show you how it works," I offered, taking the time turner and setting
it on a table.  

"I don't understand," said Sloth.  Then a blurred image appeared and a second
me appeared, with the time turner's chain around his neck and no other clothing
in his adult form.  

"Do you always end up naked when you use it?" asked Sloth.  

"Only when I start out that way in the future," said my future self.  "You
heard what Professor McGonagall said about not risking paradox.  You'd better
get undressed."  

"What's this?" asked Sloth as I got out of my clothes and into my adult body.  

"Remember how I told you I'd come up with some uses for it?" I asked Sloth. 
"How would you like to have sex with both of us at once?"  

"You're going to say yes,and you aren't going to regret it," reported my future
self.  

"Well, obviously," said Sloth, shrinking down and her clothes vanishing.  "How
could I turn down an offer like that?"  

My future self set his time turner aside and the three of us proceeded into the
bedroom.  I started us off, fondling my lover's flat chest before lifting her
off her feet.  Future me took Sloth's legs and helped guide her body as I
pressed my erect penis between Sloth's butt cheeks and penetrated her.  With my
penis firmly up Sloth's butt, future me took his time, kissing Sloth's chest
and suckling on her nipples.  Sloth ground into me as my future self bent over
and teased at her clit with his tongue.  He gave my lover a deep kiss on the
mouth, then penetrated her vaginally, putting his hands on her hips.  

Sloth's butt, already tight enough that my erection barely fit, suddenly got
tighter still as my future self wasted no time pressing as deep as he could. 
Sloth let out a grunt of exertion, then a moan of pleasure as the two of us
started pressing in and out of her tiny body.  I made a quick check to make
sure the camera was set up and took a couple pictures of our first, two person
threesome, then returned my focus to Sloth.  

I resumed groping her flat chest as part of supporting her off the ground
between us, though she was primarily supported by the two penises inside her. 
My future self kept his hands on her hips.  Both of us pressed our bodies to
hers, sandwiching our lover between us.  

Overwhelmed by the experience, Sloth reached her orgasm first.  The muscle
action of her tiny body's climax got me to mine as well, and I happily filled
Sloth's butt with cum.  We clung together through a long, intense climax while
both mes humped and groped the little girl we were sharing.  Finally, I let
myself run out and I pulled my penis out of my lover's ass.  Cum dribbled out
after it.  Future me laid her down on the bed and pulled his penis out, then
took a photo of her panting in the afterglow.  

"Now," I said, "the time turner only works in one hour increments.  You up for
another round while I wait for my departure time?"  

Sloth grinned and recovered her stamina.  She clapped and quickly deconstructed
the fluids in and around her and got fully cleaned up.  

"What's next?" she asked.  

"Well, if I recall correctly," said my future self, "you're about to get spit
roasted."  

I again lifted Sloth by her chest while future me lifted her by her hips.  The
difference was, this time, we held her up in a laying position, with her limbs
dangling below her.  Sloth raised her head and licked her lips.  Grabbing my
butt, she pulled my hips towards her and began sucking the tip of my erect
penis into her mouth.  

We didn't miss the opportunity to photograph Sloth suspended between us like
that.  She sucked hard as though she expected to need to support herself that
way.  Pressure from my future self's penetration of the opposite side of her
body caused my penis to gag Sloth slightly, bumping against the back of her
throat.  

There was too much going on for Sloth to really focus on pleasuring me orally,
but her quickly distracted attempts were half the fun.  Whenever she got too
distracted, I gave her a quick hump of my own and she got right back to work
until she was inevitably distracted again.  

When I came in her mouth this time, she tried to swallow as usual, but was
quickly distracted, leading to my ejaculate filling her mouth and bursting
forth from between her lips, to dribble down her chin even as she resumed
swallowing to try and catch up.  At length, I let myself run dry and both mes
set Sloth down on the bed.  She turned over and sat up to look at us.  

"You have the best imagination, Greed," she said, smiling broadly.  

"You make for an excellent muse," I replied.  "Now, it's just about time for me
to become him.  Do you mind giving me a quick cleanup?"  

Sloth clapped and grabbed my penis.  Semen, sweat, and other material
deconstructed in a wave spreading from the point of contact.  I retrieved my
time turner, put it around my neck,and gave it a turn, arriving back in the
other room with Sloth and my past self.  

"Do you always end up naked when you use it?" asked Sloth.  

"Only when I start out that way in the future," I explained.  Then turning to
past me, I added, "You heard what Professor McGonagall said about not risking
paradox.  You'd better get undressed."  

"What's this?" asked Sloth.  

Past me explained, "Remember how I told you I'd come up with some uses for it? 
How would you like to have sex with both of us at once?"  

"You're going to say yes and you aren't going to regret it," I said, firmly.  

"Well obviously," said Sloth, shrinking down to her four year old form and
dismissing her clothes.  "How could I turn down an offer like that?"  

I set my time turner down and went with the others into the bedroom.  I helped
past me get straight to holding Sloth up and penetrating her ass.  While she
was being taken from behind, I kissed her nipples and worked my way down her
body to lick her rapidly moistening pussy and give her clit a good flick with
my tongue.  

Sloth was already overwhelmed by the attention of two lovers at once.  I
straightened up, kissing her mouth on my way.  Breaking our fleeting, desperate
kiss and pulling my tongue out of Sloth's eager mouth, I put my hands on her
already bucking hips, positioned myself, and pressed my penis into her tighter
than usual vagina with the extra force I knew I'd need.  

Grunting with exertion, Sloth wrapped her arms and legs around me as best she
could, then managed to relax enough to enjoy her first double penetration. 
Hearing that moan of pleasure for a second time was even more satisfying than
the first.  The two mes pressed our bodies against Sloth's and to my surprise,
I discovered sh was brushing her lips over the oroboros mark on my chest,
trying to be an active participant in the experience despite being outnumbered
and overwhelmed.  

Her motor control degraded as she reached her climax, and after a certain
point, she was just trying to hang on to me.  She may have gotten there ahead
of me, but her vaginal contractions quickly had me spurting ejaculate into her
body and trying to stay standing.  Unnaturally prolonging our orgasms,
significant back pressure had built up by the time my past self pulled his
penis out of Sloth's ass and left me to set her down on the bed while we
regrouped.  I grabbed the camera and snapped a quick shot of Sloth as she lay,
breathing heavy, on the bed.  

At that point, my past self explained, "Now, the time turner only works in one
hour increments.  You up for another round while I wait for my departure time?"
 

Sloth smiled eagerly and clapped her hands.  Blue alchemic light ran over her
naked body, clearing away sweat and semen.  "What's next?" she asked when the
transmutation concluded.  

"Well, if I recall correctly," I said coyly, "you're about to get spit
roasted."  

My past self and I lifted Sloth up, turning her over so she was suspended face
down between us.  I had my hands on her hips while past me groped her flat
chest in the process of holding her up.  She was waiting, eager, and sexy.  I
didn't waste any time pressing my erection into the tight vagina of my lover. 
She started sucking on my past self's penis just as quickly and eagerly.  

I groped Sloth's thighs and butt while I supported her off the ground and
continued to thrust in and out.  I tried to grip hard enough to keep her
relatively stationary so she would be gagged by past me's penis as little as
possible.  I felt it when she reached her climax, her vagina clenching around
the portion of my penis that fit inside her tiny body.  The sensation put me
over the edge as I started cumming insider her again.  

That no ordinary human without the resources I possessed could ever experience
this was not lost on me.  Being able to pleasure my lover from every angle at
once using time travel, being able to prolong our orgasms through homunculus
regeneration.  My current lack of a soul did nothing to dim my appreciation of
the experience.  Allowing it to end, my past self and I gently laid Sloth down
on the bed once again.  

"You have the best imagination, Greed," declared Sloth, glowing with pleasure.
 

"You make for an excellent muse," declared past me, returning her smile.  "Now,
it's just about time for me to become him.  Do you mind giving me a quick
cleanup?"  

She quickly deconstructed the fluids on my past self with alchemy, and he
retrieved the time turner, departing.  After cleaning up ourselves and adopting
our thirteen year old appearances, Sloth returned us to the surface.  I tucked
my time turner under my robes and double checked the stock of red stones I'd
grabbed.  

"Are you going to be okay, Greed?" asked Sloth.  

"Your prophecy did say I'd be in for a rough year," I said.  "But I've got
people I care about, and I'll get through it."  

We embraced, clinging tightly to one another for a long moment.  When we
parted, I quirked a grin and added, "Besides, it's nice knowing I had a thing
or two to do with the happiness in your cup."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
These are not people who are shy about exploiting their powers for sex.  This
is far from the most interesting thing they do using that time turner. 
***** Worst Fears *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 27) Worst Fears
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Draco wasn't dead.  Hagrid had gotten him to Madam Pomfrey before he bled out. 
Losing my soul and my powers hadn't ended up costing anyone his life. 
Strangely, Draco was taking an inordinately long time to recover.  Consulting
both my textbook and the library, I verified that hippogriffs weren't dark
creatures that inflicted wounds more difficult to heal than normal.  

Harry was convinced Draco was feigning his injuries.  Apparently, Lucius was
using the attack to get the school board to look into Hagrid's hiring.  Given
that a little over two months ago, Lucius had been kicked off the school board,
in an incident that cleared Hagrid's name of a murder that he'd been accused of
fifty years earlier, I was surprised no one on the board was suspicious of
Lucius' motives.  Then again, if the feared Lord Voldemort took a full school
year figuring out how to get past obstacles as simple as Devil's Snare, perhaps
it wasn't so surprising that members of the school board might not know the
nature of wounds inflicted by a hippogriff and not think to look it up.  

My plan to construct individual wands for each spell I would need to cast was
getting me through my classes, but not being able to adjust or improvise was
costing me in Charms and Transfiguration.  My first Defense Against the Dark
Arts class was scheduled at the same time as Ancient Runes.  I wisely decided
to attend the wand requiring Defense class first.  When I entered the room, I
found one of my single function wands on my desk.  Looking it over, it proved
to be my dancing charm.  

Professor Lupin entered, wheeling in a cabinet, then he called the class to
attention.  "Good morning.  Please put your books and papers away.  Today's
will be a practical lesson, needing only your wands."  

The cabinet suddenly rattled loudly.  "Nothing to worry about," said Professor
Lupin, calmly.  "There's a boggart inside.  Boggarts like dark, enclosed
spaces.  Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks.  We had
one in a wardrobe in the teacher's lounge, but another defence class took care
of that one, so I had to pop down to the village and acquire this one for you."
 

Turning toward the class, Professor Lupin asked, "Can anyone tell me what is a
boggart?"  

"It's a creature that can turn into whatever you fear most," answered one of my
classmates.  

"Very good," confirmed Lupin.  "So, the boggart sitting in the darkness within
has not yet assumed a form.  He does not yet know what will frighten the person
on the other side of the door.  Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he
is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of
us fears.  This means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we
begin.  Have you spotted it?"  

"We can know what form it will take before it does," I ventured.  

"Good thinking,  Marcus," said Lupin, "but we have another advantage. 
Numbers.  It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. 
He becomes confused.  Which should be become, a headless corpse, or a flesh
eating slug?  I once saw a boggart make that very mistake.  Tried to frighten
two people at once and turned himself into half a slug."  

That got a laugh from the class, which in turn caused the boggart to rattle its
cabinet.  

"As you may have noticed," continued Professor Lupin, "what really finishes a
boggart is laughter.  The charm that repels a boggart is simple, but requires
force of mind.  You need to force it to assume a shape you find amusing."  

Lupin had us practice the incantation "rediculus" several times before
proceeding.  "Very good, but that was the easy part, I'm afraid.  You see, the
word alone is not enough.  Michael, what would you say is the thing that
frightens you most in the world?"  

He stared for a long moment before hesitantly saying, "Just now, Sirius Black."
 

A flash of anger, rather than fear, passed over Lupin's features so quickly you
might miss it if you blinked.  With even more casualness than before, he said,
"An escaped dark wizard is probably the most sensible thing in the world to be
afraid of.  Now, the next step would be to make him funny.  A change of
clothes, dying him purple, whatever you think might make his appearance comical
instead of threatening.  Can you imagine it?"  

"Yes," reported Michael.  

"Right then.  Picture those changes clearly in your mind's eye.  When the
boggart busts out of this cabinet and sees you, Michael, it will assume the
form of Sirius Black.  You will raise your wand thus and say 'rediculus'
concentrating hard on those changes, and if all goes well, Boggart Black will
be forced into the appearance you visualize.  If Michael is successful, the
boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn."  

To that end, we were instructed to consider our worst fears and how to make
them funny.  I had two problems.  I wasn't sure what my worst fear was, and
even if I knew, I couldn't whip up a comical transmutation on the fly without
my soul.  Also, wizards apparently had a spell who's effect could be summed up
as "make it funny."  

Whatever was coming, future me had left me my dancing charm wand, so I took it
in hand and hoped it would help with whatever I was afraid of.  Michael started
us off, and Sirius Black climbed out of the cupboard, every bit as ragged,
emaciated, and deranged as his mug shot in the Daily Prophet.  

After a moment's hesitation, Michael called out, "rediculus," and Black was
suddenly dressed in full clown makeup with an orange afro wig and enormous red
shoes.  He tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground face first.  

"Marcus, you're next!" called out Professor Lupin.  I changed places with
Michel, and with the sound of a loud crack, it was no longer Sirius Black on
the ground.  It was the partially decomposed corpse of a dark skinned young
man.  One of his legs was an advanced automail prosthetic, and he had a hole
torn in the center of his chest.  

It was my original human corpse, just as it had appeared the last time I laid
eyes on it years ago.  I'd destroyed it then because the human remains on which
a homunculus was based represented its greatest weakness.  In the presence of
those remains, the superhuman strength, speed, and stamina we gain from
consuming red stones vanishes.  Touching those remains paralyzes us.  And most
importantly, if we were to be killed in the presence of those remains, we would
stay dead.  

I already felt the weakness in my limbs.  Somehow, the boggart wasn't just
emulating the appearance of my remains, but i twas able to duplicate at least
some of the effects as well.  I was officially afraid of boggarts now.  

Professor Lupin seemed about to step in when I raised my wand, pressed the
switch in the handle, and called out, "rediculus!"  Red alchemic light poured
from my wand, and a faint red aura enveloped the corpse.  It stood up and began
a dance number.  

My strength returned when the next student stepped forward and my remains
morphed into a slavering werewolf, only to have its fur styled and permed like
a french poodle.  More and more forms the boggart took were targeted by the
spell, and the class' laughter built to a peak.  The boggart suddenly exploded
into a cloud of quickly dispersing smoke.  

As we were dismissed, I fell to the back of the crowd and activated my time
turner.  Appearing in the empty classroom before Defense, I put a dancing charm
wand from my bag on one of the desks and hurried off to Ancient Runes.  

The runes being studied were the same ones used in advanced alchemy arrays. 
That they carried the same meaning as runes used in Amestris, suggested an
ancient alchemy using civilization once existed in this world.  With at least
one Philosopher's Stone in this world, it wasn't overly surprising.  And even
in my world, there had been cultures that abandoned the use of alchemy after
discovering the secret to creating the Philosopher's Stone.  Flamel must have
studied enough of their writings to discover the Stone's array and he either
never told anyone the details, or he didn't understand the principles well
enough to do anything with a circle besides copy the Philosopher's Stone array
exactly.  With a Stone in hand, he wouldn't have felt any need for further
alchemic study.  

                                     * * *


That evening, Sloth and I met up with Luna, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and
Ginny.  It turned out we'd all faced our boggarts except Harry and Hermione. 
Unsurprisingly, the boggart hadn't survived long enough against the house
renowned for courage for everyone to have a turn.  Sloth was particularly
shaken up about her encounter.  

"I think Professor Lupin was confused when Riddle's diary appeared," said
Ginny.  "I gave it the cutest, girliest cover ever."  

"I had one of those acromantulas from last year rolling around on the floor
like an ugly ball after I took off its legs," boasted Ron.  

"Professor Lupin had be put Professor Snape in my grandmother's clothes," said
Neville, laughing at the memory.  

"I got my remains," I said.  "Apparently boggarts can have the same effect as
the real thing.  Lucky I had my dancing wand."  

"You made your remains dance?" asked Hermione incredulously.  

"It was macabre, but definitely funny," I explained.  

"I should have tried that," said Luna.  "I couldn't think of anything funny
about my dad lying there dead just like my mom."  

"I couldn't see anything funny about mine either," said Sloth.  "Professor
Lupin had to draw its attention."  

"What was it?" asked Ron.  

Sloth shuddered and said, "It turned into Sloth.  Into what I was like before
Greed helped me."  

"What were you like?" asked Harry.  

Putting an arm around Sloth for comfort, I said, "Her father used the
equivalent of memory charms on her so he could use her as a weapon."  

Patting my arm and getting out of the embrace, Sloth said, "And I... she was
very dangerous."  

"With the first week almost over," I said, changing the subject, "we need to
talk about our extra curriculars."  

"I'm still in Quidditch this year," reported Harry, unsure where I was going
with this.  

"We have a lot to squeeze into our schedules this year," I reported.  "For
starters, Sloth and I'll be teaching you occlumency.  Dumbledore should have
offered it at least to Harry by now.  Ron's approaching the point where his
alchemy knowledge can be dangerous, and we promised to teach Ginny to close her
mind after what happened last year."  

"Meanwhile, you three ought to learn it anyway while we're giving lessons,"
said Sloth to Luna, Neville, and Hermione.  "It's generally a really useful
skill."  

"I asked Headless Nick to give us all sword fighting lessons, and he said yes,"
I continued.  "We just need to work out a schedule."  

"Sword fighting?" asked Ron.  "What's the point of learning that?"  

Ginny replied before I could.  "Harry claimed the Sword of Gryffindor last
year.  It's only right he learn how to use it."  

"Agreed," I said.  "And there's no point in the rest of us not learning. 
Harry'll need sparring partners."  

"Meanwhile, we're continuing the parseltongue lessons," said Sloth.  "We'll all
do what we can to help Ginny catch up."  

"Are we going to have time to sleep?" asked Ron.  

"I don't know what you're complaining about," I said.  "You've got the minimum
number of classes allowed.  You should have plenty of time.  Which reminds me,
this year you start on bio alchemy.  Same time as Harry's Quidditch practices
like usual."  

"I'm sitting in on that," said Sloth.  "I need the extra practice, and I know
I've got gaps.  I didn't know how to heal Draco."  

"Why didn't you heal him, Greed?" asked Harry.  "Draco's been feigning injuries
to get Hagrid in trouble.  He wouldn't have been able to do that if everyone
saw him patched right up just then."  

"I couldn't," I said.  "On the train to Hogwarts, one of the dementors ate my
soul.  Without it, my normal alchemy doesn't work."  

"There you are!" came Professor Lupin's voice as he strolled toward our group. 
"Marcus, Nina, you both disappeared right after class.  I'm glad I found you. 
I need you both to come down to my office for a few minutes."  

Bidding the others goodbye, Sloth and I followed Lupin to the Defense Against
the Dark Arts professor's office.  Once there, he invited us to take a seat. 
In a casual tone, Professor Lupin asked a question that made my blood run cold.
 

"What exactly are the two of you?"  

                                     * * *


"What do you mean?" I asked, keeping my voice calm.  I didn't feel the probing
sensation of legelimency.  

"I started to suspect something on the train," explained Lupin.  "You were both
too composed after the dementor attack.  Neither one of you had a hair out of
place.  Then, in class, I got a look at your wands.  That wasn't the rediculus
charm, Marcus.  That wasn't human magic at all."  

"What are you going to do now?" asked Sloth.  

"That depends on if you answer my question," said Lupin.  "If you do answer,
obviously what comes next will depend on what the answer is.  If you don't
answer, I'll have to try and find out for myself.  Now, that would involve
keeping a closer eye on you for more clues as well as asking around with the
other teachers about you, potentially raising their suspicions."  

I didn't see a way out of this.  Neither did Sloth, apparently, because she
asked, "Can you keep a secret, Professor Lupin?"  

"If I wasn't willing or able, we wouldn't be having this conversation in
private before I've consulted with the other teachers," answered Lupin.  

"Professor Dumbledore already knows," said Sloth.  She took my hand and adopted
her homunculus form.  I did the same with her.  Our skin became pale and our
hair turned black.  Our eyes turned purple and slitted, and our teeth sharpened
to points.  

"We're homunculi," I said.  

"Homunculi?" asked Lupin, confused.  "I know I've heard thee term somewhere
before.  It wasn't in my defense or dark creatures compendium.  I reviewed all
my books on that before taking this position."  

"It's a term from alchemy," I supplied.  "A homunculus is an artificial human
created using alchemy.  The alchemist Parcelus Van Hohenheim was said to have
successfully created one, but he didn't understand its needs or nature so it
died soon after being born."  

"I suppose I'll have to read up," said Lupin, cheerfully.  "As for you two, I
presume you're not Parcelus' creations, given how long ago he lived."  

"Homunculi don't age like humans do," I said, "but no, we have different
origins.  Alchemy in Amestris, where we come from, is much more advanced than
it is here."  

"You're the ones who taught Ron Weasley alchemy," said Lupin, putting the
pieces together.  We nodded.  "And that light.  You were somehow doing alchemy
in class with the boggart."  

"We aren't wizards," I said.  "We don't have any magic in us.  We've been
duplicating spells using alchemy the last couple of years."  

"And those red crystals at the tip of your wands," said Lupin, "are those
Philosopher's Stones?"  

"No," said Sloth firmly.  "They're alchemy amplifiers that let us get around
some of the limitations inherent in alchemy, but they're made using a different
technique and they aren't nearly as powerful."  

"Alright, so, let me see if I've got all this.  You both aren't human, but
rather a rare kind of magical creature that can disguise yourselves as human. 
You can't do magic, but if you understand a spell well enough, you can
duplicate its effects using alchemy.  Is that about right?"  

"Yeah," I said.  

"I see.  Well, this will present a problem," said Lupin.  "I have a spate of
defensive charms to teach students this year, and if you can't learn any of
them, you'll fall behind very quickly indeed.  I suppose this means I'll have
to devote some time to provide you remedial tutoring to give you what
information you need to duplicate these charms."  

"You're not going to have us thrown out?" asked Sloth.  

"This may surprise you to learn, but Professor Dumbledore has made something of
a habit of opening Hogwarts up to... nontraditional students just like you. 
He's helped a lot of people get an education that might not otherwise have been
possible.  I, for one, have no intention of getting in the way of that." 
Professor Lupin smiled proudly as he described Dumbledore's efforts.  "Don't
worry.  Your secret's safe with me."  

                                     * * *


Professor Lupin's remedial lessons proved quite useful indeed.  Apparently, the
anti-boggart charm operated by projecting a mental image and causing the
boggart to think that was what you were afraid of.  It made the boggart's own
shape shifting powers work against it.  Occlumency could produce the same
effect.  

As parseltongue lessons had already been started last year, it was a simple
matter to just restart them.  We did make two changes, the first being adding
Ginny Weasly to the class.  The second change was the location.  Double
checking to make sure we were alone, the eight of us filed into Moaning
Myrtle's out of order bathroom.  

"You came back?" asked Myrtle, genuine shock in her voice.  

"We came to use the Chamber," explained Harry.  

"I brought some things for the basilisk," added Luna, indicating a large
basket.  

"How come you never told anyone we were down there?" asked Ron, hotly.  

"I tried," said Myrtle miserably.  "The halls were all empty and then I ran
into Peeves.  He pointed me to where he said the headmaster was.  When I got
there, no one was there.  I went back-"  

"So, he led you on a wild goose chase while we were in the chamber fighting
Riddle," I summarized.  "We appreciate you trying anyway."  

"Yeah, thanks for trying," said Ron after being elbowed in the ribs by Sloth
and Hermione.  

"We could use your help with something else," said Harry.  "You won't have to
leave your toilet.  Just if anyone comes, can you let us know?"  

"For you, Harry, anything," purred Myrtle.  

Neville opened the tunnel and we slid down to the corridor and briskly walked
to the Chamber of Secrets.  Ginny was uncomfortable, but didn't say anything. 
Harry opened the door and we entered Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber.  Luna
called the basilisk.  

"I've got some presents for you," said Luna as the gigantic serpent approached
and bowed its head to keep from killing us with its gaze.  Luna strapped a set
of reflecting goggles onto its head.  "With these, you won't have to worry
about killing anyone on accident.  It'll still petrify them, though."  

"Thanks," replied the basilisk.  

"I also brought you some earmuffs," said Luna, producing a fuzzy pink pair. 
"You can wear them when you go out to protect against roosters."  

"Are you making it easier for Slytherin's basilisk to attack people and harder
for people to kill it?" asked Ron incredulously.  

"She is on our side," reminded Luna.  "Put here to protect the castle."  

"She?" asked Ron.  

"Look at the coloration around the head," noted Luna, who was feeding the king
of serpents a large roast from her basket.  

"The important thing," said Hermione, "is that with her here, we'll have two
native speakers to practice with.  The rest of us can practice with the
basilisk while Harry runs Ginny through her introductory vocabulary."  

After a half hour of parseltongue practice, I called everybody back together
and switched back to english for Ginny's benefit.  

"I'd like to get everyone started on their occlumency training now too," I
said.  "Harry's overdue to start learning this, and Ron, you're getting to a
point in your alchemy lessons where Voldemort and his people will start wanting
what's in your head, if they don't already.  Ordinarily, the person teaching
you this would try to read your mind and you'd gradually get better at keeping
them out.  Since none of us can do legilimency, we're going to have to do it a
bit differently.  Once a week, we'll meet.  Sloth and I will guide you through
some meditations and techniques for clearing your mind and controlling your
surface thoughts.  You practice on these each night before bed.  Then, when you
have potions for the week, get Snape to try and read your mind and try out what
you've learned."  

"What?" asked Neville.  

"Are you mental?" demanded Ron.  "You want us to spend the whole year provoking
Snape every chance we get?  We'll be in detention till past our NEWTs."  

"Don't do anything bad enough to get a detention over," said Sloth.  "Just
enough to make him want to know what's going on."  

"I can't," said Neville, closing up and trembling.  Professor Snape had been
his boggart.  Neville had faced Slytherin's basilisk in this chamber and had
traded curses with Lord Voldemort, but Snape terrified him beyond reason.  

"What's wrong, Neville?" I asked.  

"What's wrong?!" Neville exploded.  "Black wasn't the only wizard who sided
with You-Know-Who last time!  A couple of them went after my mum and dad.  They
didn't die like Harry's parents.  They weren't that lucky.  They were tortured
so long and so bad that they're still in St. Mungos not sure who they are!"  

"What does-?" I started, but Neville interrupted.  

"Snape was one of them!  Most of his followers are in Azkaban.  The ones that
attacked my parents are.  But a lot of them got off.  I've seen the list.  My
gran made sure I knew.  Snape's one of them, and you want me to give him an
excuse to go inside my head?"  

"Neville, I'm sorry about what happened to your parents," said Harry.  

Pausing, Hermione awkwardly asked, "How do you know Snape's guilty?"  When that
drew angry looks from all of her fellow Gryffindors, she pressed on.  "You all
did Professor Binns' essay on muggle witch hunts.  Just because someone was
accused of something doesn't make it true.  I mean, he spent all of our first
year trying to save Harry's life.  Why would he do that if he was loyal to
Voldemort?"  

"Why don't you just use your kneazle to check Professor Snape?" asked Luna.  

Everyone turned to stare at her.  

"My what?" asked Hermione.  

"The kneazle you brought to school this year," repeated Luna.  "Crookshanks."  

"What is a kneazle?" I asked.  

"You didn't know?" asked Luna.  "Kneazles are a kind of magical cat that can
tell if someone's trustworthy or not.  I've got a book with them in it if you
want to read it."  

Luna dug through her book bag and pulled out not the magazine her father
published, the Quibbler, filled with improbable conspiracies and unconfirmed
creatures like we were expecting, but one of the school's library books.  She
flipped it open tot he chapter describing kneazles.  Crookshanks fit the
description perfectly.  

"'It isn't a cat and you shouldn't trust it,'" said Sloth.  "Professor
Trelawney said that to me in our first class."  

"Rubbish," said Hermione.  "The whole point of kneazles is you're supposed to
trust them."  

"He keeps going after Scabbers," complained Ron.  

"Is Scabbers evil?" asked Luna conversationally.  

"Of course not," snapped Ron.  "Why he once bit Goyle for is!"  

"We could use my sneakoscope," said Harry.  

"That thing's busted," said Ron.  "You saw how it was going off on the train."
 

"Was Scabbers there?" asked Luna.  

"My rat isn't evil!" yelled Ron.  

"We can try both," I said, placatingly.  "Even if Crookshanks and the
sneakoscope aren't perfect detectors, if we try both on Snape, it'll help,
don't you think?  After all, if the problem is false positives, then being too
sensitive, they should still be good for telling if Snape isn't evil."  

"Maybe Scabbers has an evil flea," mused Luna dreamily.  Ron rolled his eyes.  

Everyone consented to get the initial occlumency introduction done, and to
practice.  We'd decide whether to use Snape or not pending the results from the
sneakoscope and Crookshanks.  

                                     * * *


Harry and Hermione reported no signal of untrustworthiness from Snape on the
next day at our parseltongue lessons.  Ron was still skeptical, but Neville had
worked up the courage to try, mostly on the grounds that Snape could currently
read his mind any time he liked and he didn't have any defense.  

After our parseltongue lesson for the day was concluded, I had everyone wait. 
Shortly, Headless Nick floated in the opened door, holding his head like a
lantern and looking very nervous.  

"Did Myrtle give you any trouble, Sir Nicholas?" I asked.  

"No, no.  She said I was expected," he replied.  Holding his head at arm's
length, he took in the room.  "So, this is the Chamber of Secrets.  Why did you
want to meet down here instead of one of the unused rooms in the castle?"  

"We don't know how the teachers would react to us sword fighting in an empty
classroom," noted Sloth.  

"I'm sure they'd understand," said Headless Nick.  "It isn't as though the
school hasn't had fencing clubs before."  

"Also, because we'll be practicing with these," I said, taking a thin cylinder
covered with alchemic symbols out of my bag.  Pressing a switch, a beam of red
light extended from one end.  I switched it off and tossed it to Neville.  I
handed them out as I spoke.  "I designed them over the summer.  There's a
switch to turn it on and off, and two dials near the bottom of the handle.  One
adjusts the blade length and the balance.  The other adjusts the damage.  There
are three settings.  The first won't cut anything but air and will pass through
everything else harmlessly.  The second setting makes it work like a club,
bashing into people.  The third setting will cut through anything made of
normal matter like a hot knife through butter."  

"That sounds dangerous," said Sir Nicholas.  

"I added the first two settings recently.  It originally only had the third," I
said.  "Anyway, no matter what the setting, the blades will clash with each
other."  

"Um, there's something wrong with mine," said Ron.  "There aren't any dials or
switches."  

"That's because you're an alchemist," I explained.  "Everyone else's are
powered by red stones in the hilt.  You can just activate the array on yours
and set it however you want."  

Ron grasped the hilt and a golden blade extended.  Everyone else switched on
theirs, illuminating the room with alchemic light.  Sloth's sword glowed blue
while all the rest glowed red.  

"Why does yours have a switch?" asked Ron.  "You're a better alchemist than I
am."  

"Because a dementor ate my soul," I said, "and until I get a new one, I can't
use alchemy."  

"That isn't how souls work," said Sir Nicholas.  "If you don't have your soul,
there's no you anymore.  Just an empty shell."  

"It is how homunculi work," I said.  "Now, is everyone ready to get started?"  

Sir Nicholas set his head down where he could get a good view, drew a ghostly
saber, and began demonstrating grips, stances, footwork, and forms.  We formed
into rows and began practicing.  It was slow going, so we agreed to meet six
days a week to practice.  

                                     * * *


Both our normal classes and our extra curricular activities proceeded.  My
Arithmancy classes proved to be every bit as challenging and rewarding as I'd
hoped.  Muggle studies was slow to build, covering a lot of basics I already
knew at this point.  My previous training let me breeze through Ancient Runes. 
Care of Magical Creatures became very boring indeed thanks to Draco's stunt. 
Hagrid didn't dare introduce us to anything more exciting than flobberworms. 
Tea leaf readings continued in Divination, and I started noticing that the less
I focused on precisely interpreting the shape in the cup, the more often my
readings matched Professor Trelawney's.  

In my core classes, Astronomy, History of Magic, and Herbology were the same as
always, wandless classes that held little interest most of the time, but which
I worked to do well in anyway to keep my grades up.  Potions remained a
highlight, even though Professor Snape's mood was worse than normal.  Using my
time turner to drop off the right wand to myself was a winning strategy for
Charms and Transfiguration.  Defence was enjoyably hectic with Professor Lupin
bringing in one dark creature after another for us to fight.  

Occlumency lessons were going better than I expected.  The others reported
being able to detect Snape's intrusions almost immediately.  It was harder to
tell if they'd succeeded or failed at keeping him out, but either way, they
were all noticeably improving.  

A few weeks was as long as I could restrain my curiosity about the miraculous
device around my neck.  I'd been warned not to change the past, but was it
possible?  So, I picked something relatively simple and innocuous for a test.  

After finishing my Muggle Studies class, I would go back in time for my
Arithmancy class, but before leaving the Muggle Studies classroom, I'd leave a
note on my desk to myself that hadn't been there the last time, explaining the
experiment (in code, just in case).  I flipped the enchanted hourglass over and
found myself in a part of the castle I didn't recognize.  After getting some
directions from a portrait of a knight, I ended up having to rush to my
Arithmancy class to get there in time.  This was the first time the time turner
had behaved that way, and it wasn't much of a leap to guess it had something to
do with my experiment.  

I tried a few more times that week to leave myself a paradoxical note, only to
be deposited in the past far enough from my past self that I couldn't manage
it.  In one particular instance, when I gave myself a lot of extra time, I
ended up dumped in the middle of the lake and had to swim back.  

This phenomenon only made me more curious.  I tried out a new experiment.  I
decided that if I ended up on my past self's left, I'd move on, but if I was on
his right, I'd deliver a paradoxical message.  I was consistently deposited on
the left.  It was as though there was some guiding intelligence working out
exactly where to drop me off in the past to preserve the flow of history.  

Further experiments revealed that every time I used the time turner, I arrived
at the closest possible point to my past self that preserved a self consistent
timeline.  If I was careful and committed to closing time loops, I could appear
in the same room.  If I was dedicated to causing a paradox, I'd arrive to far
away to achieve it.  

By carefully precommitting to attempting to a paradox if I arrived anywhere
else, I was able to control my arrival point with considerable accuracy. 
Instead of needing to rush to class after using the time turner, I could ensure
that I showed up right at the classroom.  After finishing up my homework for
the evening, I would sit at one of the desks in the Ravenclaw common room and
compile my notes on the experiment.  Obviously publishing the paper I was
writing would be out, since I wasn't supposed to be using the time turner for
anything but getting to my classes, but the process of getting it written up
left me with a feeling of accomplishment anyway.  

                                     * * *


At the start of October, Harry's Quidditch practices started up again, which
meant resuming Ron's alchemy lessons.  Fortunately, transfiguration classes
often involved insects, small mammals and the like, so I was able to procure
the basic materials without raising any suspicions.  Loki was at my side when
Sloth, Ron, and I descended into the Chamber of Secrets carrying boxes, cages,
and tanks of fish.  

"You know, they're treating me like a genius," said Ron.  "Like I figured this
all out on my own.  Doesn't it bother you that you aren't getting the credit?"
 

"I didn't figure this all out on my own," I said as I set up cages.  "You
aren't a fraud if that's what you're thinking.  The knowledge you have is
real."  

"You just have more," he said, looking between Loki and the wand at Sloth's
hip.  

"If we wanted to be famous, we'd have done it," said Sloth.  "And if you stick
with it, you'll know everything we do about alchemy.  You're already getting
into territory I'm not great at."  

"Now, first rule," I said firmly, "you don't attempt to use anything you learn
hear on a human being.  Eventually, we'll get you to that point, but humans are
more difficult and more dangerous to use alchemy on than other animals.  My
first attempt at human alchemy failed.  My second left me bleeding out on a
cold floor after my heart got ripped out."  

Ron instinctively put his hand on his chest and nodded.  

"Good," I said.  "This year, you'll be learning the basics of bio alchemy. 
This will form the foundations for later lessons.  Loki is a product of the
techniques I'm going to teach you.  Living creatures created by mixing
different animals together using alchemy are called chimeras.  You'll both be
making a lot of them this year, and since I can't do alchemy myself, any
mistakes you make when creating these creatures, you'll have to fix yourself."
 

I'd successfully impressed caution on Ron, who was focusing intensely on the
transmutation circle for his first chimera, mixing a goldfish with a black
beetle.  Sloth was visibly uncomfortable with the subject matter.  Given that
she had the memories of Nina Tucker, who'd been crudely fused with the family
dog shortly before her death, it would be surprising if she wasn't
uncomfortable, but she was determined to stick out the lessons.  I looked over
their shoulders, pointing out flaws and points of concern with their
transmutation circles.  

The live ingredients were placed in jars, the blue and gold light accompanied
the creation of their first chimeras.  As with all starting attempts, they were
crude, and more than a little malformed.  I walked them both through fixing the
worst of the deformities, then we moved on.  

"Today we worked with creatures with very simple nervous systems," I said as we
got ready to go.  "As the lessons continue, we'll be using more and more
advanced animals, who's ability to feel pain is likewise greater.  Without care
and study, you can cause a lot of suffering with this technique.  So remember
to slow down and double check everything as we go forward."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
It wasn't precisely intentional that so many people would be confronting their
inner demons in this chapter.  I suppose the boggart just put me in the mood
for it.  Between being caught outright by Professor Lupin, Neville dealing with
the Death Eaters who went free in the form of Snape, and Sloth starting to make
her own chimeras, I'm happy with the result, but I didn't even notice it was
all so clustered until I sat down to retype this. 
***** Romantic Interlude 18 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 28) Romantic Interlude 18
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *
***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children. You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story. If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 29.
***WARNING***
                                     * * *
"Was it like that for you when you made your first chimera?" asked Sloth when
we were down in our private lab after the year's first alchemy lesson.
"I was flying without a safety net my first time," I admitted. "Psiren was
there helping me do the research, but she didn't know anything about bio
alchemy either. I made mistakes and had to learn from them."
"None of the things we made are going to live very long, are they?"
"No," I admitted. "Losing experimental animals is unfortunately a part of the
process. We don't act cruelly and we minimize their suffering where we can, but
yes, a lot of the creatures we make this year will die."
"What you learned studying in Aquroya made it possible for you to fix my
father's mistakes with Loki, right?"
"That's right," I said, petting my ever loyal dog affectionately.
"Alphonse wanted to study chimeras after what happened to Nina. He wanted to be
able to fix it if what happened to her happened to anyone else. I feel the same
way. Sure it was Draco, and he ended up fine, but I couldn't do anything to
help."
I nodded. "Bioalchemy has too many variables to use these red stone powered
wands and ended up with a living thing at the end of it. I've been lucky all
our transfiguration has been living to nonliving so far. Draco bleeding out
like that was the most helpless I've felt since I lost my soul."
"I'm glad your alchemy's all you lost. Normal dementor victims end up like
Lockheart, right?"
"Yeah. Of course, normal dementor victims are supposed to be condemned
criminals like Black."
"Any idea why it went after you?"
"No. And since I can still walk and talk, I can't prove the thing did it
either. It got away with it."
Sloth stepped behind me and rubbed my shoulders. Then she slipped the time
turner off my neck and said, "I think you could do with a distraction from
that, and we have some ideas."
Three additional Sloths appeared, and the four of them led me off to the
bedroom. Loki took over the couch as we closed the door to keep him out.
"I don't even know where to start," I admitted, looking over the four of them,
who all reverted to her four year old default form and disrobed.
"Don't worry," said one of the Sloths. "This is my idea. I'll take the lead."
Finding myself at the center of attention of four identical little girls was
exciting, flattering, and intimidating all at once, and I'd quickly lost track
of which Sloth was which. I was guided to the bed by two of her while the other
two set up the camera.
"Remember how you said I could take other girls as lovers if you got to watch?"
asked a Sloth sitting down on the bed next to me.
"This is probably technically closer to really elaborate masturbation," said
the Sloth sitting on my other side, "but I've been wanting to try it since you
showed me what that time turner could do."
At that point, the two Sloths on the other side of the room placed their hands
on one another's bare shoulders and kissed. The kiss deepened and the two
Sloths drew their naked bodies together. As they did so, the Sloth on my right
started stroking my erect penis with her tiny hands. The Sloth on my left put
both hands on my shoulder and brought her hips to my ear, kissing my earlobe
then whispering.
"I'm from after both of them. It feels really good, but the best part is
knowing you're watching and getting off on it." She then took my hand and
placed it on her butt.
The Sloths kissing one another let their hands run down one another's backs to
grope each other's butt. Meanwhile, the Sloth who'd been stroking my erection
stopped using her hands and started using her tongue. I put my hand on the top
of that Sloth's head and slid the other hand between the legs of the Sloth
nibbling at my ear.
"That's right," she whispered, squeezing my fingers between her legs. "The two
of us are here to help you enjoy the show, so relax and enjoy yourself."
Sucking on one another's tongues, the two Sloths on the other side of the room
shifted their hips and bent knees so that each of them was rubbing their
crotches against one of the other's thighs. The tip of my penis was briefly
mouthed, and the girl whispering to me climbed up to straddle me and plant a
kiss on my lips. I found myself synchronizing my kiss with the Sloth draped
over me with the kiss I was still watching between the two Sloths.
The little girl pleasuring me orally licked her way down the shaft of my penis
to my testicles. Meanwhile, the girl I was making out with drew my hand out
from between her legs, licked some of her own juices off my fingers and pulled
herself down onto my erection. Her control slipped a bit as she found she
couldn't quite squeeze my erect penis into her tiny vagina smoothly and easily.
She let out a gasp of surprise and pressed herself more firmly down on me, her
eyes closing with the exertion.
"You're as far down as you're going to get," reported the girl licking my
balls, and she proceeded to lift the shaft of my penis right to the point of
the other Sloth's labia.
Still grunting occasionally with the exertion as she bobbed up and down on my
penis, that Sloth started sucking on one of my nipples. Meanwhile, the two
Sloths grinding against one another had stopped. One of them was kissing her
way down the other's body,kissing her chest and suckling on her nearly
invisible nipples.
Pressure built up inside me as I watched one Sloth begin to perform cunnilingus
on the other. Small sounds of pleasure started escaping the Sloth who was being
licked by either her past or future self, and those sounds mingled with the
satisfied grunts of the Sloth riding my penis and sucking on my nipple. I came,
hot semen spurting deep inside the vagina of the Sloth riding me. My calling
out in pleasure seemed to trigger both the Sloth I was penetrating and the
Sloth being licked to reach their own orgasms. As the three of us came, the two
Sloths using their tongues dutifully kept up their work.
One by one, the three of us chose to let our orgasms end. The Sloth riding me
dismounted and laid down next to me. The one licking my penis quickly cleaned
up, then crawled across me to lick the semen from the vagina of the Sloth I'd
just ejaculated in. The Sloths that had been having sex with one another came
over.
The Sloth who'd been doing the licking in that pair planted a passionate kiss
on my mouth, through which I tasted her juices secondhand. While our lips were
pressed together, I was laid down on my back, and the girl who'd had her orgasm
from being licked by her other self climbed onto my renewed erection.
The girl kissing me climbed down by body, latching onto one of my nipples as
the girl who'd been performing oral on me stopped licking the pussy of the one
I'd cum inside and instead straddled my face. I couldn't see much from that
position, but I could hear the sounds of the girl my erection was penetrating
kissing the one straddling my face. A tiny mouth had attached itself to each of
my nipples as I started using my tongue to pleasure the girl who'd spent so
long using her tongue to pleasure me.
Both girls sucking on my nipples reached down to stroke the shaft of my penis
as it penetrated the third. I could feel their tiny fingers intertwine as they
cooperated to stroke the exposed portion of my shaft. In response, I reached
down and started masturbating both girls, one with each hand.
My focus was limited, and the enthusiasm of all four girls seemed limitless.
Whenever my attention faltered, they took matters into their own hands,
grinding harder against me, holding my fingers in place with their free hands,
and generally ensuring that despite me being in the center of this orgy,
everyone got to get off.
We came at close to the same time, experience with our own and one another's
bodies, coupled by three of the Sloths having lived through this before all
made the timing possible. Spent, exhausted, wet, and sticky, we all collapsed
in a pile of hard breathing bodies. After lying there satisfied for a long
moment, the Sloths got up, clapped their hands and cleaned everything up with
alchemy. Three of them got dressed, grabbed time turners and departed to close
the time loop.
Turning to the remaining Sloth, I smiled and said, "So, from your prospective,
you just had sex for four straight hours. Being a homunculus is awesome."
She kissed me and said, "It was great seeing how far I could push you. And
everything was so much better on the second, third, and fourth loops, since I
knew everything was going to be appreciated. It meant I could just relax and
enjoy myself. I can't wait to see how the pictures turn out."
I got up and took the film out of the camera and used the correct potion to
develop wizard photos of everything we'd just done. Sloth put them up on the
walls next to the ones we'd already taken. Then she clapped her hands and
transmuted the door to the bedroom into just another wall. We could leave up
our pictures in here and not have to worry about anyone else seeing them if we
took them down to the lab area. Sloth could walk through walls anyway, and I
wouldn't be coming down here without her.
                                     * * *
Author's comments:
She was hoping to distract him from having lost his soul. I'd say she
succeeded.
***** Reckless Plans *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 29) Reckless Plans
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Ron continued to complain about Crookshanks targeting Scabbers.  Hermione
insisted that it was just in the nature of cats to chase rats, and that
Crookshanks couldn't be blamed.  Ron would counter that Scabbers was ill,
didn't need the stress of fleeing a cat constantly, and that he had been there
first.  Luna still seemed convinced the whole thing could be explained by
Scabbers being evil.  

Much as the rest of us tried to help, most of the burden of mediating between
Ron and Hermione fell to Harry.  They seemed to finally grasp the burden they
were putting Harry under when Halloween came, and Harry was lamenting that
without a signed permission form, and with a mass murderer trying to kill him,
he must be the only third year not allowed to visit Hogsmeade village.  Sloth
and I had quietly handed in forged permission slips that had not met with any
significant scrutiny.  

Ron and Hermione promised to get Harry all kinds of treats from the sweet shop
Honeydukes, and to tell him all about the trip.  Luna and Ginny, who were
second years and couldn't go anyway, offered to keep him company, but Harry
said he had some work to catch up on and that he'd be fine.  

Passing through the main gate of Hogwarts grounds, a chill passed through me,
and memories of the worst times in my life rushed to the surface.  Screams of
the dying sounded distantly.  I pulled a piece of chocolate from my robe pocket
and popped it in my mouth.  The memories still came, and it didn't silence the
screams, but it did warm my core and lift some of the feeling that everything
was hopeless.  I stared up at the pair of cloaked dementors perched above the
gate.  Hot rage and seething hatred filled up the part of my mind which the
chocolate had banished the helplessness from.  

When the dementors were out of sight, and I could no longer hear the screams, I
distributed chocolate to the others.  Sloth and I were still the worst
effected.  

Dervish and Bangs was a marvel of a shop, containing more magical equipment
than I could guess the use of.  I picked up some sneakoscopes there, for our
house, our lab, and various gifts for Christmas.  I also picked up some good
wood of various types and some wood working tools.  My arithmancy lessons were
going well, and I wanted to give wand making another go.  I also grabbed a set
of divination equipment for practice.  

Zonko's joke shop contained the most obviously magical materials in the whole
town, with almost everything having both an obvious effect and a more subtle
one.  Besides fireworks, stink pellets,and various other loud or explosive
devices, that is.  Since every item in the shop qualified as contraband
according to Filch, I resisted the temptation to empty the shelves into my bag
with the undetectable extension charm.  

The sweet shop, Honeydukes, had all our old favorites from the train cart and
hundreds more besides.  Ron and Hermione tried gathering large armloads of
sweets for Harry, who was stuck back at the castle, but as I did have a
virtually bottomless bag, I offered to carry it.  As a result, Ron bought a box
of everything int he store.  He seemed to really enjoy having so much money he
didn't have to even keep track of it.  

When we visited the Three Broomsticks Inn, Ron bought us all a round of
butterbeer, tipping generously.  Butterbear had some of the warming, blushing
properties of alcohol, but wouldn't intoxicate humans.  That made it a perfect
drink for the chilly autumn weather.  

In all, the visit to Hogsmeade was almost as novel and wondrous as my first
trip to Diagon Alley, with the added bonus of friends to share the experience
with.  I preemptively popped some chocolate in my mouth before passing under
the gate on my way back to school.  The experience of passing by the dementors
was unpleasant, but passing.  

We reported to Harry, Ginny, and Luna what we'd seen and done in Hogsmeade, and
shared out the utterly unreason amount of sweets we'd brought back from
Honeydukes.  Harry, in return, related a peculiar incident at the castle.  He'd
been having tea with Lupin when Snape brought in a potion.  Lupin had claimed
it helped him with some unspecified illness and that it was a particularly
difficult potion to brew, hence enlisting Snape's help.  We didn't get much
chance to discuss it further before it was time for the feast.  

As usual, the food was excellent.  The ghosts provided entertainment for the
evening.  Sir Nicholas arranged a reenactment of his botched beheading, having
temporarily reaffixed his head to his shoulder with a ghostly strap of some
sort.  He followed it up with a fabricated story of him finishing his
decapitation postmortem by accident.  He claimed it happened when he tried to
pull his hair out when everyone was ignoring him at his deathday party the
previous year.  He proudly announced he'd been asked to join the Headless Hunt,
but that he was taking time considering his options, since it would interfere
with his duties as Gryffindor house ghost.  I think being able to reject their
offer made him happier than actually joining the Headless Hunt would have.  

                                     * * *


I was just getting settled into a comfy chair with a new book from the library
in the Ravenclaw common room when Professor Flitwick entered, roused all the
students who'd already got off to bed, and sent us back down to the Great
Hall.  No explanations were forthcoming until the whole school was gathered in
the Great Hall and Dumbledore issued an announcement.  

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle.  I'm
afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here.  I
want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall, and I am
leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge.  Any disturbance should be reported to
me immediately.  Send word with one of the ghosts.  Oh yes, you'll be
needing..."  With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore stood the tables up around the
walls and conjured hundreds of purple sleeping bags.  "Sleep well," he said
before departing.  

Once he was out, the Gryffindors explained that the Fat Lady, the portrait that
guarded the entrance to their tower, had been slashed by Sirius Black in an
attempt to gain entry.  

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!  Come on now, no more talking!  Lights out
in ten minutes!" called Percy.  

"Come on," hissed Ron in parseltongue, leading those of us who knew it to a
corner.  We grabbed sleeping bags and followed.  We got in and continued to
converse in hisses.  Fortunately, Ginny was far enough along that she could
follow.  

Hermione hissed an angry tirade at the suggestions other students were
speculating about how Black got in.  "Honestly, am I the only person who's ever
bothered to read Hogwarts a History?"  

"Obviously not," hissed Sloth, rolling her eyes.  "They were all checked out
last year.  Someone was reading them."  

"It's just the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," continued
Hermione.  "There are all sorts of enchantments on it to stop people entering
by stealth.  You can't just apparate in here.  And I'd like to see a disguise
that could fool those dementors.  They'd have seen him fly in too.  Filch knows
all the secret passages.  They'll have them covered..."  

"The lights are going out now!  I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no
more talking!" yelled Percy.  The candles all went out, leaving the Great Hall
illuminated only by the stars overhead shining on the enchanted ceiling.  

I closed my eyes, but didn't sleep.  If Sirius Black was in the school to kill
Harry, he'd likely come here next, and I was determined to give him a
surprise.  Hidden inside my sleeping bag, I covered my body with the Ultimate
Shield and waited.  

At around three, Dumbledore returned to check in with Percy.  They came over to
our corner to talk.  

"Any sign of him, Professor?" whispered Percy.  

"No.  All well here?"  

"Everything's under control, sir."  

"Good.  There's no point moving them all now.  I've found a temporary guardian
for the Gryffindor portrait hole.  You'll be able to move them back in
tomorrow."  

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"  

"Hiding in a map of Aryllshire on the second floor.  Apparently, she refused to
let Black in without the password, so he attacked.  She's still very
distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."  

Snape entered and made his way over to Dumbledore.  "Headmaster, the whole of
the third floor has been searched.  He's not there.  And Filch has done the
dungeons.  Nothing there either."  

"What about the astronomy tower?  Professor Trelawney's room?  The owlery?"  

"All searched."  

"Very well, Severus.  I didn't really expect Black to linger."  

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?"  

"Many, Severus.  Each of them as unlikely as the next."  

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before- ah- the start
of term?"  

"I do, Severus," replied Dumbledore in a tone that warned Snape was about to
cross a line.  

Snape hesitated at that tone, but steeled his nerve and pressed on.  "It seems
almost impossible that Black could have entered the school without inside
help.  I did express my concerns when you appointed-"  

Dumbledore cut him off firmly with, "I do not believe a single person inside
this castle would have helped Black enter it.  I must go down to the
dementors.  I said I would inform them when our search was complete."  

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" asked Percy.  

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore, "but I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold
of the castle while I am headmaster."  

Dumbledore strode out, with Snape leaving soon after.  Once they'd gone, a few
questioning hisses confirmed that the others had been awake to hear that too.  

                                     * * *


Harry was under strict observation and guard after Black's attempt, which
severely disrupted our parseltongue, occlumency, and fencing lessons.  The
teachers were keeping too close an eye on him for him to be able to slip off to
the Chamber of Secrets.  It was just as well in terms of the occlumency. 
Everyone had a pretty solid handle on the basic blanking your mind in response
to an intrusion technique.  Projecting false thoughts was next, but there was
really no way to do that without feedback from the legilimense.  

Ginny was the only one who really needed more parseltongue training, and she
was sharing a dorm with Harry.  It was the fencing lessons that really
suffered, which was especially a shame since Neville was really standing out in
that.  Sloth and I had experience using the weapon in combat, but without
formal instruction, we had picked up a number of bad habits we had to unlearn
before making any real progress.  

I didn't see any choice but to go talk to Professor Snape.  He clearly knew or
suspected something about Black and Professor Lupin, and Snape had a good track
record identifying threats to Harry's life.  I knocked on the door to his
office a few days after the incident.  

"Mr. Oren?  I've been expecting you," he said, steepling his fingers and
leaning back in his chair.  "Come in, and close the door behind you."  

I did as instructed and then sat down.  "You've been expecting me?"  

"For a week or so now.  I presume this is about Potter's occlumency lessons." 
Snape's lips curled into a superior smile at the look of surprise on my face. 
"You didn't think I could miss what you were doing did you?  How could they
learn anything if I wasn't making the effort to match my legilimency level to
their occlumency ability?"  

"Right," I said, how poor a plan this had really been becoming clear to me.  

"In any case, your little clique has made it as far as they can go without my
taking a more active hand in their instruction."  

"Will you do it?" I asked.  

"Now that you know I've been helping you, I don't see how I have any choice but
to finish the job.  Bring your students to the potions classroom on Thursdays
an hour before dinner."  

"Thank you, Professor," I said, getting up to go.  Then, remembering why I'd
come, I asked, "Professor, do you know anything about Professor Lupin we should
know?"  

"Nothing I am at liberty to speak of, Mr. Oren.  You are dismissed."  

                                     * * *


"You did what?" demanded Ron.  

"He agreed to help us," I replied, defensively.  

"What we were doing was one thing, but being alone in a room with Snape!" said
Neville, horrified.  

"He already knew what we were doing," I said.  "He's been helping the whole
time, making your attempts to block him hard enough to challenge us and easy
enough that you wouldn't be overwhelmed right away."  

"I'm going," said Harry.  "Like Greed said, we've already had him rooting
around in our heads.  If he was going to do anything to us, he'd have done it
by now."  

Harry had made up his mind and everyone followed his lead.  Even Neville found
his courage and came with us, determined not to abandon us when we faced Snape.
 

"As far as anyone is to know, the eight of you are here for remedial potions
work.  Goodness knows some of you could use just that," said Snape when we
arrived.  "Mr. Oren and Miss Tucker have already given you the basic
explanation of how occlumency works.  Now you will all move on to more advanced
techniques.  That includes you two as well," Snape added to Sloth and I.  "The
headmaster may have provided you with some instruction, but he has far too
gentle a touch.  When I am through with you, the dark lord himself won't be
able to say if you are his friend or his enemy."  

One by one, Snape called us forward.  Rather than just look us in the eye, he
drew his wand and called out the incantation, "legilimense!"  The resulting
psychic intrusion was more powerful, more subtle, and better controlled than
the wordless, wandless version Dumbledore had used in our training.  There was
no pretense of respecting our privacy as he dug into our minds.  It was our
responsibility to fight him off.  

Snape was abrasive and acidic in his criticisms of our technique.  Any mistake
he would use to cut through our defenses and detail a laundry list of flaws to
shore up.  The instruction we'd already had from Dumbledore let Sloth and I
keep Snape away from knowledge of our true nature, our origins, and anything
especially private.  But his more potent and vigorous assault on our defenses
definitely helped us improve.  If he'd been teaching this our first year,
Voldemort might not have gotten the foothold he did when trying to posses us.  

He prodded at our psychological weak spots verbally as well as with
legilimency, trying to teach the emotional control needed to resist being
provoked into making mistakes.  We all left the first lesson more exhausted and
broken down than Dumbledore had ever left us, but Sloth and I were encouraged
and calmed the worries the others expressed.  

                                     * * *


Ron and Sloth's alchemy training intensified as Harry's Quidditch training
ramped up in preparation for their first match of the season.  We'd covered
rudimentary bird and mammal chimeras.  It was almost time to get into advanced
techniques like constructing new traits not present in the base animals,
healing tissue damage, and optimizing for the specific desired function.  

The day before Harry's match, Professor Lupin's illness flared up again, and
Snape filled in for him.  He spent some considerable portion of the first part
of class insulting Lupin's teaching style, record keeping, and progress.  The
truth was we'd ended up so far behind because we'd had Quirrell and Lockheart
the last two years.  Lupin was working miracles getting us to our current point
as quickly as he did.  After finishing his calm, smooth, unfair tirade against
Lupin, he assigned us to go over werewolves, assigning an essay on ways to
identify and kill them.  

I kept silent as the pieces clicked into place.  All the signs fit, and I just
bet it was close to a full moon.  Professor Lupin was a werewolf.  That's why
he thought he couldn't be trusted.  And that's why Professor Lupin was as
understanding of my and Sloth's situation.  Lupin had been talking about
himself when he talked about Dumbledore taking a chance on people no one else
would.  

                                     * * *


The sky was pitch black except for the far too often and far too close flashes
of lightning when the school came out for the first Quidditch match of the
season.  Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, so I was carefully neutral on the
outcome.  We could all root against Slytherin together, but we were obviously
supporting our own houses.  I was wearing a waterproof, hooded cloak and was
staying well away from anyone with an umbrella, as was everyone else who had
enough muggle studies to know how electricity worked.  

The wind was roaring too loudly for me to hear the commentary, and the sheeting
rain made it hard to tell the red Gryffindor uniforms from the yellow
Hufflepuff ones.  I was questioning whether it was worth being out in the cold
and wet when I was suddenly gripped by a chill that had nothing to do with the
temperature, and the howling wind gave way to the screams of the dying.  

Dementors had come onto the field and were staring sightlessly up.  They were
attacking Harry.  That thought pushed me to pop some chocolate in my mouth and
act.  There were a hundred of the soul sucking monsters on the field, and I was
the only one they couldn't suck a soul out of.  The Ultimate Shield spread over
my body, I tossed aside my cloak, and launched myself out of the stands to land
right in front of the nearest dementor.  

I didn't look human when covered by the Ultimate Shield, but the sightless
dementors weren't intimidated by my appearance.  Rage and fury welled up inside
me as the monsters continued to draw out my worst memories, and I was deafened
to all except the final screams of the dead.  I closed a fist and punch the
nearest dementor.  It launched into the sky like a rag doll faster than I could
imagine possible.  

A homunculus' physical strength is proportional to the energy density of red
stones we've consumed.  At the end of first year, I'd eaten a Philosopher's
Stone which had been forged from the lives of over eighty thousand people.  I
had never unleashed that strength until now.  

Relying on chocolate and fury to keep me moving, I knocked dozens of the
creatures out of the field before anyone else had managed to properly react. 
I'd seen how fast Wrath could move when he fought Gluttony, and he'd eaten only
a handful of far weaker stones.  I was barely processing how fast I Was moving
as I relied on anger to stave off depression and helplessness.  These things
had eaten my soul,and they would pay for it.  

The dementors began to retreat, and the screams quieted.  Enraged beyond
reason, I pursued them as they fell back to the forbidden forest.  I pounced on
one of the dementors, tackling it to the ground.  I brought a neigh
indestructible fist down on its skull with the force of a destroyed city's
worth of people hitting all at once.  The crack of the impact sounded like
thunder, and a crater indented into the earth from the impact.  

The dementor was still moving.  Its body had been left completely uninjured.  I
punched again, and the crater sank deeper, and the creature I hit still lived. 
Again and again I struck, nearby trees toppling over as the earth distorted
under my onslaught, and still the dementor wouldn't die.  

Hopelessness crept in again, stealing the strength from my limbs as my resolve
faltered.  The screams were back, and I was out of chocolate.  I collapsed, and
the dementor I'd tried to kill leaned over me.  I had the grim satisfaction of
knowing it wouldn't get a tasty soul out of the deal, but it was small comfort
indeed as depression closed in on me.  

Hope and motivation rushed back as a silvery apparition of a phoenix put itself
between me and the dementor.  It drove the demonic creature away, and I sat up
in the center of the crater that was rapidly filling with muddy water.  

"Don't those things die?" I asked the apparition, rhetorically.  

"The term is amortal," said Albus Dumbledore as he strode into view. 
"Dementors were never born, and they cannot be destroyed through any known
means."  

"Professor Dumbledore?" I said, drawing the Ultimate Shield away from my head
to reveal my face.  

"What you did attacking the dementors like that was dangerous and foolish," he
said firmly.  "But in truth, it never should have been necessary.  The
dementors had strict orders about where they were and were not allowed, and I
cannot fault you for acting in defense of yourself and your fellow students.  I
will ask you to refrain from pursuing them off the grounds in the future,
however."  

"No promises," I said, getting to my feet.  "One of those things ate my soul on
the train."  

"The soul-" started Dumbledore, but I cut him off.  

"I'm not human.  Homunculi can live without our souls.  I'm diminished by its
loss, yes, but we don't just drop catatonic after losing them like humans do."
 

A flash of anger appeared in the old wizard's eye and he said, "I have told the
Ministry that the dementors are not under control.  Crossing over onto the
grounds was bad enough, but attacking a student and performing the kiss! 
Fortunately you have survived, but that also makes this difficult to prove. 
Return to the school.  I shall make my displeasure known to the dementors." 
Dumbledore departed, the silvery phoenix at his side.  I did as instructed.  

                                     * * *


Harry had apparently toppled off his broomstick when the dementors attacked. 
His broomstick, one of the firebolts Ron had gifted the Gryffindor team, had
been blown into the whomping willow and smashed to bits.  Ron had already
ordered a replacement and was reassuring Harry none of it was his fault.  

Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker and captain, had tried to arrange an
rematch and void the win he made for Hufflepuff on the grounds of outside
interference.  I wouldn't want to win that way either.  

No one had recognized me in the heavy rain with the dementors causing
everyone's focus to turn inward.  I confessed my failed attack to Sloth who
wasn't happy I'd endangered myself like that.  Even if I had no soul to steal,
that didn't mean nothing they did could harm me.  

That ill fated fight with the dementors forced me to confront something I'd
been trying to ignore.  Losing my soul bothered me more than I wanted to
admit.  Over scheduling my extra curriculars had been a way to not leave myself
time to think about what losing my soul meant.  My body had died a long time
ago, and I considered myself the same person because I'd attached my soul to
this homunculus body.  Now that my soul was gone, was I still the same person?
 

Well, if I was going to try and distract myself like that, I'd be a lot better
at it if I was doing it consciously and deliberately.  I found an empty
classroom and constructed a few hundred suits of armor like Alphonse Elric had
his soul bound to.  Then I carved a circle into each suit like I'd made for my
chessmen.  Touching a red stone to each array in turn, I brought the armored
suits to life.  

I made their minds simpler than the chessmen.  They had no emotions.  They felt
neither joy nor sorrow, hope nor despair.  They were cold and logical, built to
obey my orders.  Given the skills to fight and an ability to improve their
skills in that area with experience, they would supplement Hogwarts' faulty
security.  Showing them a picture, I ordered them to distribute themselves
throughout the castle, and to capture or kill Sirius Black on sight.  

That was the work of an afternoon.  I was thoroughly distracted from my
existential crisis throughout, but it certainly didn't last long enough. 
Casting about for further distractions, I found my diminished alchemy ability
with my soul missing.  Now able to look at it as its own problem, separate from
the existential crisis, I came up with a better solution than pre-built wands.
 

Sloth was able to improvise by drawing a fresh transmutation circle on a blank
wand with her powers.  Now that I was thinking clearly about it, I realized I
could do the same.  Taking hold of a blank wand with a red stone affixed to the
end, I used my shape shifting ability to extend a tendril from my body along
the length of the wand and reconfigure it into the form of a transmutation
circle.  With speed and improvisation back, I took some of the animals for the
chimera lessons and retaught myself how to perform complex bio alchemy this
way.  It was challenging, and that's what I needed.  

Meanwhile, classes continued.  I took to drinking a cup of tea before bed and
giving myself a reading.  The extra practice paid off when right before the
second Hogsmeade trip, two weeks before Christmas, I interpreted my cup as
saying I would find a friend in an unexpected place.  

Harry turned up in the Honeydukes sweet shop.  Taking us asside and whispering
in parseltongue, Harry explained Fred and George had given him an enchanted map
of the Hogwarts grounds, which in addition to showing the walls, rooms,
staircases and secret passages, also showed the location of every person,
animal, and whatever else int he place with tiny dots labeled with their
names.  Harry had snuck out to Hogsmeade through a secret passage leading from
the castle to the cellar of Honeydukes.  

"I'll need to post suits of armor to guard the accessible tunnels," I said,
making a note of where those tunnels were on the map.  

After Hermione unsuccessfully tried to persuade Harry to turn in the Marauder's
Map, we started to show Harry around.  As it became clear Harry wasn't dressed
for the winter weather, we headed for the Three Broomsticks to get Harry some
butterbeer.  I knew thanks to the Nazi experiments that I couldn't get
frostbite, but I was still more comfortable at normal human temperatures.  

Harry, Ron, Neville, Hermione, Sloth, and I took a seat near a fireplace.  The
foaming mugs of butterbeer warmed us inside while the nearby fire took care of
the outside.  As we drank, a strange group entered.  McGonagall, Flitwick,
Hagrid, and Minister Fudge.  Harry ducked under the table while Hermione
covertly moved a Christmas tree in between our two tables.  After receiving
their drinks, they invited Rosmerta, the proprietor, to join them.  

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" asked Rosmerta.  

"What else, my dear, but Sirius Black?" replied the Minister.  "I daresay you
heard what happened up at the school on Halloween?"  

"I did hear a rumor," said Rosmerta.  

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" asked McGonagall.  

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" asked Rosmerta.  

"I'm sure of it," replied Fudge.  

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?  Scared all
my customers away.  It's very bad for business, Minister."  

"Rosmerta, my dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge. 
"Necessary precaution.  Unfortunate, but there you are.  I've just met some of
them.  They're in a fury against Dumbledore.  He won't let them inside the
castle grounds."  

"I should think not," said McGonagall.  "How are we supposed to teach with
those horrors floating about?"  

"Here, here!" agreed Flitwick.  

"All the same," said Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something
much worse.  We all know what Sirius Black is capable of."  

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Rosmerta.  "Of all the
people to go over to the dark side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have
thought.  I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts.  If you told me
what he was going to become, I'd have said you had too much mead."  

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge.  "The worst he did isn't
widely known."  

"The worst?  Worse than murdering all those poor people you mean?" asked
Rosmerta.  

"I certainly do," replied Fudge.  

"I can't believe that," said Rosmerta.  "What could possibly be worse?"  

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta?" said McGonagall.  "Do you
remember who his best friend was?"  

"Naturally," said Rosmerta.  "Never saw one without the other, did you?  The
number of times I had them in here.  On, they used to make me laugh.  Quite the
double act, Sirius Black and James Potter."  

"Precisely," said McGonagall.  "Black and Potter.  Ringleaders of their little
gang.  Both very bright, of course.  Exceptionally bright, in fact, but I don't
think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers."  

"I don't know," said Hagrid.  "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run for
their money."  

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers, inseparable," added
Flitwick.  

"Of course, they were," said Fudge.  "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other
friends.  Nothing changed when they left school.  Black was best man when James
married Lily.  Then they named him godfather to Harry.  Harry has no idea, of
course.  You can imagine how the idea would torment him."  

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" asked Rosmerta.  

"Worse than even that, my dear," replied Fudge.  "Not many people are aware
that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them.  Dumbledore, who was, of
course, working directly against You-Know-Who had a number of useful spies. 
One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once.  He advised
them to go into hiding.  Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to
hide from.  Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius
Charm."  

"How does that work?" asked Rosmerta.  

Flitwick explained.  "An immensely complex spell involving the magical
concealment of a secret inside a single living soul.  The information is hidden
inside the chosen person, or Secret Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to
find, unless, of course, the Secret Keeper chooses to divulge it.  As long as
the Secret Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where
Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had
his nose pressed against their sitting room window."

"So, Black was the Potters' Secret Keeper," confirmed Rosmerta.  

"Naturally," said McGonagall.  "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would
die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding
himself, and yet, Dumbledore remained worried.  I remember him offering to be
the Potters' Secret Keeper himself."  

"He suspected Black?" asked Rosmerta.  

McGonagall said, "He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been
keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements.  Indeed, he had suspected for
some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of
information to You-Know-Who."  

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?" asked Rosmerta.  

"He did," said Fudge.  "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had
been performed..."  

"Black betrayed them," finished Rosmerta.  

"Indeed he did," said Fudge.  "Black was tired of his double agent role.  He
was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have
planned this for the moment of the Potters' death.  But, as we all know, You-
Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter.  Powers gone, horribly
weakened, he fled.  And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed.  His
master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors
as a traitor.  He had no choice but to run for it."  

"Filthy, stinking turncoat!" yelled Hagrid, drawing the whole bar's attention.
 

"Shh!" McGongall tried unsuccessfully to quiet him.  

"I met him!" continued Hagrid.  "I must've been the last to see him before he
killed all them people!  It was me what rescued Harry from Lily and James'
house after they was killed!  Just got him out of the ruins, the poor little
thing.  With a great slash across his forehead and his parents dead.  And
Sirius Black turns up on that flying motorbike he used to ride.  Never occurred
to me what he was doing there.  I didn't know he'd been Lily and James' Secret
Keeper.  Thought he'd just heard the news of You-Know-Who's attack and came to
see what he could do.  White and shaking he was, and you know what I did?  I
COMFORTED THE MURDERING TRAITOR!"  

"Hagrid, please," tried McGonagall again.  "Keep your voice down!"  

"How was I to know he wasn't upset about Lily and James?  It was You-Know-Who
he cared about," continued Hagrid.  "And then he says, 'Give Harry to he,
Hagrid.  I'm his godfather.  I'll look after him.'  Ha!  But I had me orders
from Dumbledore, and I told Black no.  Dumbledore said Harry was to go to his
aunt and uncle's.  Black argued, but in the end, he gave in.  Told me to take
his motorbike to get Harry there.  'I won't need it anymore,' he says.  

"I should of known there was something fishy going on then.  He loved that
motorbike.  What was he giving it to me fore?  Why wouldn't he need it
anymore?  Fact was, it was too easy to trace.  Dumbledore knew he'd been the
Potters' Secret Keeper.  Black knew he was going to have to run for it that
night.  Knew it was a matter of hours before the Ministry was after him.  

"But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh?  I bet he'd've pitched him off the
bike halfway out to sea.  His best friend's son\!  But when a wizard goes over
to the dark side, there's nothing and no one that matters to 'em anymore."  

"But he didn't manage to disappear, did he?" said Rosmerta.  "The Ministry of
Magic caught up with him next day!"  

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge.  "It was not we who found him.  It was
little Peter Petigrew, another of the Potters' friends.  Maddened by grief, no
doubt, and knowing Black had been the Potters' Secret Keeper, he went after
Black himself."  

"Petigrew?" asked Rosmerta.  "That fat little boy who was always tagging around
after them at Hogwarts?"  

"Hero worshiped Black and Potter," said McGonagall.  "Never quite in their
league tallent wise.  I was often rather sharp with him.  You can imagine how I
regret that now."  

"There, now, Minverva," said Fudge.  "Petigrew died a hero's death. 
Eyewitnesses, muggles of course, we wiped their memories later," I flinched,
"told us how Petigrew cornered Black.  They say he was sobbing 'Lily and James,
Sirius!  How could you?' and then he went for his wand.  Well, of course, Black
was quicker.  Blew Petigrew to smithereens."  

"Stupid boy," said McGonagall after blowing her nose.  "Foolish boy.  He was
always hopeless at dueling.  Should have left it to the Ministry."  

"I tell you," growled Hagrid, "if I'd got to Black before little Petigrew did,
I wouldn't've messed around with wands.  I'd've ripped him limb. from. limb."  

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," shot Fudge.  "Nobody but
trained hit wizards from the magical law enforcement squad would have stood a
chance against Black once he was cornered.  I was junior minister in the
department of magical catastrophes at the time, and I Was one of the first
people on the scene after Black murdered all those people.  I-I will never
forget it.  I still dream about it sometimes.  A crater in the middle of the
street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below.  Bodies everywhere.  Muggles
screaming.  And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Petigrew
in front of him.  A heap of bloodstained robes and a few-a few fragments.  

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta.  Black was taken away by twenty members of
the magical law enforcement squad, and Petigrew received the Order of Merlin,
First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother.  Black's been
in Azkaban ever since."  

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?" asked Rosmerta.  

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge.  "I certainly believe his
master's death unhinged him for a while.  The murder of Petigrew and all those
muggles was the action of a cornered, desperate man.  Cruel.  Pointless.  Yet I
met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban.  You know, most of the prisoners in
there sit muttering to themselves in the dark.  There's no sense in them.  But
I was shocked at how normal Black seemed.  He spoke quite rationally to me.  It
was unnerving.  You'd have thought he was merely bored.  Asked if I'd finished
with my newspaper, cool as you please.  Said he missed doing the crossword. 
Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on
him.  And he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. 
Dementors outside his door day and night."  

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" asked Rosmerta.  "Good gracious,
Minister.  He isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"  

"I daresay that is his-er-eventual plan," said Fudge, "but we hope to catch
Black long before that.  I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one
thing, but give him back his most devoted servant and I shudder to think how
quickly he'll rise again."  

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head
back up to the castle," said McGonagall.  The group then got up and left.  

No one quite knew what to say to that.  Harry returned to the castle through
the Honeydukes secret tunnel, while the rest of us returned via the main gate. 
Once back in the Ravenclaw common room, I filled Luna ion on what I'd
overheard.  We'd see Harry the next day and talk everything over as a group.  

                                     * * *


But Harry wasn't down from his dorm before the students going home for the
holidays were shipped off.  Luna promised she'd ask her father if he could tell
us anything useful. Neville suggested those of us who were staying should give
Harry space if he needed it.  Ginny, meanwhile, ordered ron to keep an eye on
Harry and not let him do anything stupid.  Ron, Sloth, "Hermione, and I saw
them off, then returned to the relative warmth of the castle.  

"I've been thinking," I said, when we were back inside.  "They aren't tailing
Harry obsessively anymore.  After the break, we can probably get back on track
with those fencing lessons."  

"Yeah, brilliant plan," said Ron, rolling his eyes.  "Harry finds out Sirius
Black betrayed his parents and you want to get him back on lessons about
cutting people up with a sword."  

"We can't control whether he decides to go after Black or not-" I began.  

"Oh, yes we can," interrupted Ron.  "I'm not letting my best friend rush off
and get blown to bits."  

"Ron's right," insisted Hermione.  "Harry's just found out, and he's going to
eb thinking of going after Black himself.  If we can calm him down and make him
see reason-"  

"Is wanting revenge unreasonable?" asked Sloth quietly.  "Black's the reason
Harry's parents are dead and he had to go live with those muggles that hate
him."  

"It isn't about that," said Hermione.  "Harry's no match for Black.  All he
could do if he went after him is get himself killed like Petigrew."  

"That's why I want to train him.  Arm him," I said.  "That way, if he does want
to go after Black, he'll have a chance."  

"You heard what the Minister said," said Hermione.  "Only trained Ministry hit
wizards stood a chance against Black."  

"When we all backed Harry up, Voldemort couldn't win," I said.  

"Say, You-Know-Who, will you?" said Ron, irritated.  "And we won, barely,
against a young, inexperienced seventeen year old shadow of the real thing."  

"The point is, Tommy was alone and we weren't.  Black's also alone," I said.  

"Tommy?" asked Sloth, giggling.  

"Ron doesn't like me using his made up, self-bestowed moniker, so why not the
muggle name he could never stand?" I replied.  

"Fine," said Ron.  "I still don't think we should let Harry do this."  

"Do you think Harry has it in him to kill Black?" asked Hermione.  "He stabbed
the diary, but it was that or let Ginny die.  Just imagine if he goes after
Black and hesitates."  

"That's a good point," I admitted.  "I know how much more it effects you if
what you kill has a human face."  

"We're still teaching him and arming him," said Sloth.  "And if he insists,
Greed and I are going to be at his back, no matter what."  

Ron and Hermione went up to the Gryffindor common room to wait for Harry. 
Sloth and I took Loki out to the snow covered grounds to get some exercise.  

"I get why you went after the dementors," said Sloth, not looking at me.  "They
took something from you and you wanted revenge.  I get it.  But, Greed," she
turned her head toward me.  "You didn't take your own advice."  

"What do you mean?"  

"Did you bring every weapon you could?  Did you let us back you up?"  

"I-" I started, before realizing I didn't have anything to say.  

"You were angry.  So angry you weren't thinking straight.  And that's what I'm
worried about.  I'll back up Harry if he's sure going after Black is what he
wants, but he'll need to calm down before we set one foot outside the castle. 
If you fight angry, you make mistakes.  Your attack on the dementors is proof
of that."  

"What mistakes?  They're immortal."  

Sloth laughed.  "You've fought immortals before.  And if you acted as stupid
aas you did with the dementors when you fought me, you'd have been dead the
first fight we had."  

I couldn't argue the point.  When I'd gone up against Sloth the first time, I
survived it by keeping my wits, watching her carefully, and figuring out a
weakness in a seemingly invincible foe.  Hell, even Loki had worked out
attacking head on wasn't working and tried something else.  

"I won't go after them again until I've got a plan, and I'm calm enough to
think straight," I promised.  

Sloth put an arm around me, and we hugged.  

"If we can convince Harry of the same, I'll be happy," said Sloth, tossing a
stick for Loki.  

                                     * * *


Harry, Ron, and Hermioone came plodding through the snow, heading towards
Hagrid's cabin.  Sloth, Loki, and I went to join them.  Harry knocked and
Hagrid answered the door.  

"You've heard?" asked Hagrid, sobbing terribly.  He threw his arms around
Harry.  The rest of us had to pry the massive man off Harry before he broke
something.  

We navigated Hagrid inside and closed the door, settling Hagrid into a chair. 
Loki found Fang hiding under the table from the large hippogriff lying in a
corner.  Loki positioned himself protectively between the two.  

"What is it, Hagrid?" asked Harry, indicating a letter on Hagrid's table.  At
Hagrid's prompting, Harry read it aloud.  

The good news was that Hagrid wasn't being held responsible for the incident
which had led to Draco being injured on the first day of classes.  The bad news
was that Buckbeak was being held responsible, and Lucius Malfoy had convinced
the school governors to refer the matter to the Committee for the Disposal of
Dangerous Creatures.  There was to be a hearing in a few months.  

"It's just a hearing," I said, trying to be comforting.  "He hasn't been
condemned yet."  

"You don't know them gargoyles at the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous
Creatures.  They've got it in for interesting creatures," sobbed Hagrid.  

"I can't believe Lucius Malfoy's this petty," said Sloth.  "He obviously knows
Draco was just fine this whole time."  

Harry, Ron, and Hermione seemed to have just noticed Buckbeak and started.  

"I couldn't leave him tied up out there in the snow, all alone, at Christmas,"
Hagrid explained, trying to regain his composure.  

"You'll have to put up a good, strong defense, Hagrid," said Hermione.  "I'm
sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."  

"Won't make no differenace," said Hagrid inconsolably.  "Them dispisal devils,
they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket.  Scared of him.  And if I lose this
case, Buckbeak-"  He drew a finger across his throat.  

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" asked Harry.  

"Yeah," I agreed.  "He's got enough pull to make worse things go away."  

"He's done more than enough for me already," said Hagrid.  "Got enough on his
plate what with keeping them dementors outa the castle and Sirius Black lurking
around."  

"Listen, Hagrid, you can't give up," said Harry.  "Hermione's right.  You just
need a good defense.  You cam call us as witnesses."  

"We can all testify that Malfoy provoked the attack," said Sloth.  

"I'm sure I've read about a case of hippogriff baiting where the hippogriff got
off," said Hermione.  "I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what
happened."  

Ron made tea, and we continued to offer help and reassurances to Hagrid. 
Eventually, Hagrid calmed down.  

"I've not been myself lately," said Hagrid.  "Worried about Buckbeak and no one
liking my classes."  

"We like them!" said Hermione too quickly.  

"We know the governors are interfering with your lesson plan," I said
sincerely.  

"And them dementors make me feel ruddy terrible and all," continued Hagrid. 
"Got to walk past them every time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 
It's like being back in Azkaban."  

"Is it awful in there?" ventured Hermione.  

"You've no idea," said Hagrid.  "Never been anywhere like it.  Thought I was
going mad.  Kept going over horrible stuff in me mind.  The day I got expelled
from Hogwarts, day me dad died, day I had to let Norbert go.  

"You can't really remember who you are after a while.  And you can't see the
point of loving at all.  I used to hope I'd just die in me sleep.  When they
let me out, it was like being born again.  Everything came flooding back.  It
was the best feeling in the world.  Mind, the dementors weren't keen on letting
me go."  

"But you were innocent," said Hermione.  

"Think that matters to them?" asked Hagrid.  "They don't care. Long as they've
got a couple of hundred humans stuck there with them, so they can leach all
happiness out of them, they don't give a damn who's guilty and who's not.  

"Thought of just letting Buckbeak go, trying to make him fly away, but how do
you explain to a hippogriff it's got to go into hiding?  And- and I'm scared of
breaking the law.  I don't ever want to go back to Azkaban."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
In terms of threat level, difficulty to kill, and pure malevolence, dementors
put homunculi to shame.  No matter how many times I tried to trim or summarize
the Petigrew backstory, I couldn't find a satisfying way to do it while
maintaining the clues in the original material. 
***** Good Intentions *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 30) Good Intentions
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Hagrid and Buckbeak's plight seemed to turn Harry's thoughts away from
revenge.  Protecting and aiding his friends in the here and now took priority
for Harry.  We got armloads of books from the library and found somewhere quiet
to study and try to find something that would help Hagrid's case.  As we
studied volumes of wizarding case law, I decided that the occlumency lessons
had proceeded far enough that I could safely pass on some important
information.  

"I have something that might help us prepare a case in time," I said.  "The
thing is, I'm not supposed to tell you about it, and I'm not sure how much
trouble I'd be in for telling you."  

"Greed, don't!" exclaimed Hermione.  "You heard what Hagrid said.  This isn't
about school rules.  This is wizarding law!"  

"That's why I want to make sure you can keep a secret," I said.  "Snape can't
get at things you don't want him to, right?  You're all at the point of just
making your false thoughts more believable?"  

"Yeah," said Harry cautiously.  Ron nodded.  

"Okay, this is a time turner," I said, pulling the hourglass pendant from under
my robes.  "It lets me go back in time in one hour increments.  I've been using
it to get to my classes that are scheduled at the same time as eachother."  

"You've had this all year?" asked Ron.

"Professor Mcgonagall made it very clear using them for anything but getting to
class was against the law," said Hermione.  "We aren't even supposed to tell
people we have them."  

"I knew there was something funny about your schedule," said Ron.  

"Point is," said Sloth, picking up on my plan, "none of us are legal experts,
and we don't have enough free hours in the day to become legal experts."  

"Back in time?" asked Harry.  

"You can't use it to change history," I said.  "I checked."  

"You checked?" asked Hermione paling.  "Were you even listening when Professor
McGonagall told us about the horrible things that happened to wizards who
tampered with time?  All those wizards who killed their past or future selves?"
 

"I needed more details," I said.  "And I took precautions.  I'm writing up a
paper on my experiments and what I learned if you want to read it."  

"Of course you are," said Ron.  

"So you're saying we can use this to do the research for Buckbeak's case and
not have to miss any of our classes or run out of time to manage our homework,"
concluded Harry.  "That's amazing.  And I was starting to think helping Hagrid
with Buckbeak would mean not getting to do anything else over the holiday."  

                                     * * *


Between the time turner, Ron's extensive knowledge of wizarding law, and
Sloth's ability to assimilate knowledge from books using red stones (an ability
I particularly missed since losing my soul) we'd prepared a legal brief that
was sure to get Buckbeak off if the judge was willing to listen at all.  Hagrid
called it the best Christmas present he could hope for when we dropped it off
on Christmas eve.  

Christmas morning came with a pile of gifts at the foot of my bed.  There were
a thousand different exotic sweets from Honeydukes.  Luna had sent me five
years worth of back issues of the Quibbler so I'd have something to read all
alone in the empty Ravenclaw common room over the holiday.  A large package
from Mrs. Weasley contained some home made baked goods and a hideous orange
sweater.  I smiled and pulled it over my head.  

Sloth had sent me a small metal disk with a transmutation circle on it.  As
soon as it opened, Sloth's voice came out of it.  "This is a kind of alchemy
powered recording device.  I made it using the same technique you used for the
chess men.  You can tell it to record or play back any sound, and I gave it a
perfect memory.  You can tell me how much you like it and how impressed you are
when you meet me at the front gate.  I love you."  

"I wouldn't have even thought of that," I said, turning the object over in my
hand.  Getting up, I headed downstairs to meet her, Loki happily trotting along
behind me.  

Sloth was wearing a sweater so pink my eyes took a minute to confirm she wasn't
somehow on fire.  She was holding the sneakoscope I'd bought her for her dorm
room bed stand and getting a good look at the small, glass top.  

"I love you, too," replayed my new recording device, drawing Sloth's attention.
 

"I see you got a sweater too," she said, taking a look at me.  

"Yep," I said.  "I guess helping rescue Ginny last year made us an honorary
part of the family."  

"There you two are!" called out Ron.  He, Harry, and Hermione rushed over to
us.  

"You won't believe what happened," said Harry.  "Luna was right!"  

"Wait, right about what?" I asked.  

"Scabbers," said Hermione.  

"I still can't believe it," said Ron.  

"Can you start over from the top?" asked Sloth, as confused as I was.  

"Well, it all started around midnight," began Harry.  "We were asleep in bed,
and suddenly there are these loud whistles and shrieks that wake me and Ron
right up."  

"It turned out our presents were being delivered by house elves," said Harry.  

"I have so many questions for the Headmaster about that," interjected Hermione.
 

"And it wasn't just any house elves," continued Harry.  "One of them was Dobby,
the one I'd helped from last year.  Anyway, apparently someone sent us a bunch
of sneakoscopes."  

"That would be me," I confirmed.  

"And they went crazy when the house elves brought them in," continued Harry. 
"The house elves thought they'd done something wrong and tried to punish
themselves for it.  I had a time of calming them down."  

"Meanwhile, Scabbers freaks out and bolts out of the door," continued Ron.  "As
soon as he's gone, the sneakoscopes all turn off."  

"So he really was an evil rat?" asked Sloth.  

"And he ran off now that we were on to him," added Hermione.  "We looked, but
couldn't find him."  

"I need to talk to Percy when he gets back," said Ron.  "Ask where he got him
from in the first place.  And to think, I was considering using what you've
been teaching me this year to extend his lifespan."  

We continued to speculate on what Scabbers was and what he was up to, but there
just wasn't enough information to get anywhere with that line of thought.  I
instructed my suits of armor to capture Scabbers on sight and bring him to me,
just in case the rat was still somewhere in the castle.  

When the five of us arrived at the Great Hall, the House tables had been moved
asside, and a smaller table at which Dumbledore, Flitwick, Snape, McGonagall,
Sprout, Filch, and three students I didn't immediately recognize were seated.  

"Merry Christmas," said Dumbledore.  "As there are so few of us, it seemed
foolish to use the house tables.  Sit down, sit down."  

"Professor, we have something to report," said Ron without sitting down.  "My
rat, Scabbers is missing.  I know this sounds strange, but he ran off after
triggering a bunch of sneakoscopes.  I don't know what it means, but with
everything that's been going on this year..."  

"Thank you for bringint hits to my attention, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore
gravely.  "If your pet should turn up, I would be most interested to examine
him.  In the meantime, have a seat."  

Again without sitting, Hermione asked, "Where did this food come from?"  Her
tone was accusatory.  She'd never taken that tone with a teacher, let alone the
headmaster.  

"The kitchen staff prepared it as they have for the past century or more,"
replied Dumbledore simply.  "I expect they shall feel insulted if we let it go
to waste."  

"Miss Granger, what has gotten into you?" asked McGonagall.  

"Slavery!" yelled Hermione.  "Slave labor made this food, didn't it?  The
Malfoys keeping house elves, I understood, but I never thought my own school
would be involved in something so despicable!"  Hermione stormed out
furiously.  She'd obviously been holding that in until the warning about
Scabbers had been relayed.  

Hermione stormed right past Professor Trelawney, who'd arrived at just that
moment.  

"I'll go talk to her," offered Ron, following after Hermione.  The rest of us
sat down at the table,barring Trelawney, who was staring horrified at the
table.  

"The Hogwarts house elves are quite well treated," said Dumbledore.  "Some,
like Harry's friend Dobby, are already free elves, employed with pay and
benefits.  The others are all aware that freedom is theirs for the asking.  I
do hope you aren't letting this quite understandable misunderstanding ruin our
dinner together.  Have a seat, Sybill."  

"I dare not, Headmaster!" exclaimed Trelawney, still staring transfixed at the
table.  "If I join the table, we shall be thirteen!  Nothing could be more
unlucky!  Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will
be the first to die!"  

"We'll risk it Sybill" said McGonagall, not quite rolling her eyes.  "Do sit
down.  The turkey's getting stone cold."  

Trelawney hesitated a moment longer, then took her seat.  There was some
sniping between Trelawney and McGonagall, but Dumbledore put a stop to it.  The
conversation returned to the house elves.  Apparently, they generally
considered being freed to be akin to being sacked in disgrace.  They took a
great deal of pride in their work, and further pride still in imposing as
little as possible on their employers.  When Dobby had been hired, the house
elf had aggressively negotiated his salary down.  

I resolved to verify this with Dobby and the other house elves.  I wasn't
particularly more comfortable with slavery than Hermione was.  Dinner was
otherwise uneventful until Harry picked up some food for Ron and Hermione and
got up to bring it to them.  

Professor Trelawney took Harry by his hands and said, "My boy.  My dear, brave
boy.  You have already seen your fate was sealed, and now you rise first to
prove it."  

"The only difference Harry rising first will make is if a mad axe man is
waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall," said
McGonagall, still without quite rolling her eyes at Trelawney's prophecy.  

Sloth and I departed as well to look for the kitchens.  Everything the small
army of house elves said lined up with Dumbledore's earlier statements.  Even
Dobby, who was wearing clothes rather than altered tea towels, and thus was
free from magical compulsions against saying things against their master,
verified what Dumbledore had said.  The Malfoys had been cruel to him, and he
was glad to be free, but the others were happier still not being freed.  

By the time we left, we had house elves so thoroughly praising us for our
generosity of spirit for coming down and asking their opinions on things that
we were both incredibly uncomfortable.  We thanked them for their time
politely, eliciting further howls of praise from the diminutive creatures over
our basic courtesy, and left.  

"I don't know how to feel about this," admitted Sloth when we were alone.  

"I'm with you," I said, blinking.  "I mean, they seem happy, but they act like
basic courtesy toward them is the mark of a saint."  

"Maybe we give it some time," suggested Sloth.  "Wait until we understand
better before deciding what to do."  

                                     * * *


Hermione, however, had made a firm decision.  She was flatly refusing to eat
anything prepared by the house elves, so Sloth and I expanded our lab garden
and started quick growing food so she wouldn't starve herself.  Ron was feeling
worried and betrayed about Scabbers, who hadn't turned up.  Harry was again
stuck trying to deal with them, though fortunately, this time they weren't mad
at each other.  Still, everyone was happier when the term started up again and
the other students returned.  

Harry was being observed at his Quidditch matches closely, but within the walls
of the castle, the staff had quit following him around.  As a result, our
fencing and parseltongue lessons could resume.  Ron threw himself into his
alchemy training as a welcome distraction from Scabbers.  Snape's occlumency 
instruction resumed as well, though it seemed Sloth and I, at least, were
reaching the limit of what could be done with the discipline.  

In the first week back, Harry let us know he would need to miss our fencing
lesson one day a week as Professor Lupin was teaching him to fight dementors in
case of another attack next Quidditch game.  I hadn't been invited, and I
didn't ask to be.  My powers were so different from Harry's that trying to
train both of us at once was bound to be doomed to failure.  

Instead, I attended the fencing lessons as usual, then got my invisibility
cloak from my trunk, used my time turner, and went to invisibly observe the
lesson.  Professor Lupin had procured a boggart to practice with.  Since Harry
was terrified of dementors, that is what this boggart would become.  

"So," said Lupin, "the spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced
magic, Harry.  Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level.  It is called the Patronus
Charm."  

"How does it work?" asked Harry.  

"Well, when it works correctly, it conjures a Patronus, which is a kind of
anti-dementor.  A guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor.
 

"The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that
the dementor feeds upon, hope, happiness, the desire to survive, but it cannot
feel despiar as real humans can, so the dementors can't hurt it.  But I must
warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you.  Many qualified
wizards have difficulty with it."  

"What does a Patronus look like?"  

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."  

"And how do you conjure it?"  

"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all
your might, on a single, very happy memory."  

"Right," said Harry.  

"The incantation is this: Expecto Patronum!"  

They practiced he wand motion and incantation, with Harry eventually producing
a silvery mist the same color as the spectral phoenix Dumbledore had used to
save me from the dementors.  Then Lupin opened the case containing the boggart,
and the wave of cold and despair flooded the room.  It wasn't quite as intense
as the real thing, but it was still overwhelming, and I found I had collapsed
when Lupin forced the boggart back into the case.  

I nibbled on some chocolate under my cloak while Harry and Lupin set up to try
again.  Twice more they tried it, before Harry managed to keep the wispy silver
cloud hanging in the air.  With the mist there, I managed to avoid being
overwhelmed, and saw the dementor unable to pass the mist, as though it was
solid.  

While the training proceeded, Harry and Lupin talked.  Apparently, Lupin had
been a friend of Harry's father back when they were in school.  He'd been hit
hard by Sirius Black's betrayal.  

When the lesson was over, I slipped back to the Ravenclaw common room to see if
I could apply what I had learned.  

                                     * * *


While I worked on the dementor problem, Sloth was working with Hermione on the
house elf problem.  Sloth was always better than I was at political matters. 
Keeping Hermione fed was also good practice for both Sloth and Ron's bio
alchemy.  Sloth ended up strong arming Hermione into using her time turner to
get more sleep, since the Gryffindor was running herself ragged with her full
class load and house elf advocacy efforts.  

They tried several times to interview the house elves in the kitchens, but kept
being thwarted and sent away carrying cakes and sweets the house elves gave
them and looked like they were going to punish themselves when they tried to
refuse.  Ultimately they changed tactics and hired Dobby as a consultant.  As a
result, they got to witness, first hand, the elf's negotiating tactics.  

Between Dobby's explanations and their own research, they learned a great deal
about the house elves and their situation.  The house elves possessed a
powerful magic of their own, in some ways greater than that of the wizards they
served.  Despite the wards blocking wizards from apparating in Hogwarts, house
elves could do so freely.  The magic which bound them to their masters was
equally potent.  If issued an order by their master, a house elf must obey. 
They can try to twist the order, and can act on their own when no order
contradicts them, but they cannot disobey.  

Culturally, house elves pride themselves on the services they provide.  It
takes a great deal of abuse for a house elf to even want to be free of their
family, to the point that some wizards actually threaten to free their elves
when dissatisfied with their service.  The other house elves in Hogwarts look
down on Dobby because of his being a free elf.  

Mistreatment of house elves is common, and due to the nature of the
relationship, often goes undetected.  Wizard laws technically provide
punishments for extreme abuse of house elves, but enforcement of those laws has
varied considerably over the years.  During the last wizarding war, when
Voldemort was at the height of his power, every ministry resource had been
dedicated to fighting him, leaving the house elves to fend for themselves. 
Voldemort's defeat had meant a return to normal operations for the Ministry,
and thus improved things significantly for the house elves.  

Hogwarts was apparently one of the better options, which was why Dobby chose to
work here.  Even under the nastiest headmasters, the combination of benevolent
ghosts and ubiquitous living portraits meant that any abuses were reported and
dealt with quickly.  After a month of discussions, Hermione went back to eating
the school food with everyone else and apologized to Dumbledore, who waved it
off, noting she'd taken a stand out of compassion, something he hardly wanted
to discourage.  

Complicated as the situation was, there was one obvious ethical course of
action, which Sloth and Hermione pursued while they pondered the larger
issues.  The laws against mistreating house elves weren't being enforced nearly
strongly enough, especially against old, wealthy, powerful families like the
Malfoys.  A petition was being prepared for the Ministry demanding they improve
enforcement, which they hoped to carry door to door on the next Hogsmeade
trip.  They'd already collected signatures from several teachers and recruited
a number of students to help with the signature gathering.  As a second prong
to their efforts, Sloth transmuted a significant quantity of gold, which would
be provided to the Ministry to pay for the additional enforcement efforts if
they accepted the petition's proposals.  

The main hangup was naming their advocacy organization.  Hermione's first
attempt was awkward and unwieldy, while her second had the unfortunate acronym
of SPEW (Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare).  The naming discussion
was tabled after that in order to get on with the work.  

                                     * * *


I arrived at the Quidditch field to root against Harry and make sure he didn't
die.  After the first match, the dementors hadn't attacked a Quidditch match. 
I was under no illusion that my pitiful efforts had contributed in the least. 
This time, I was ready for them, though.  I'd learned enough eavesdropping on
Lupin's lessons with Harry to prepare a defense, and I had a vague idea of how
I might hurt the amortal entities.  

Palm readings I'd been doing in Diviniation kept pointing towards grief and
guilt caused by rash actions, which had me nervous as I took my seat.  It was a
long game with a lot of twists and reversals, which helped take my mind off the
prophecies.  Then I saw them, three dementors coming onto the field and the
predictions rushed back to the forefront of my mind.  I mustn't act rashly or
it would come to grief.  

My hesitation meant Harry had to take action on his own in the skies above.  A
great silver stag burst from his wand and charged at the black cloaked
creatures.  Terrified, they staggered backward and fell in a heap.  The stag
snorted at them and disappeared.  The figures that struggled out of the heap of
robes were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch
captain.  If I'd enacted my plan believing them to be dementors, they would all
be dead.  My choice to take Divination this year had saved their lives.  

I quickly marked that down as an accurate prophecy in my notes on my way back
to Ravenclaw tower for the evening.  I'd been keeping track of what was
predicted, when, and by whom all year.  Professor Trelawney's were the most
accurate, with even her duds possibly just referring to things that hadn't
happened yet.  Sloth and I were also doing remarkably well, far better than
random chance, and we were getting more accurate as we went.  I would have
thought this meant the subject was an objective science like potions, but for
the fact that studious, logical Hermione was struggling.  

After dealing with the irritatingly obvious door riddle, "Where do vanished
objects go?" with "Nowhere.  They just don't exist anymore," I sat down at the
desk with my arithmancy book and my woodworking tools.  I stayed up all night
constructing a new wand, accounting for the magical correspondences between the
wood, the core, and the measurements.  As a result, I was the only one up when
Professor Flitwick entered the tower.  

"Marcus?  What are you doing still up?"  

"I got to working on this," I said, holding up the new wand, "and I guess I
lost track of time."  

"Well, I need to tell you, no one is to leave the tower tonight.  The other
teachers and I don't want to raise a panic, but I think you can handle hearing
the truth.  Sirius Black managed to get inside the Gryffindor dorms. 
Fortunately, those boys had enough sneakoscopes set up to make Mad Eye Moody
call them paranoid, and Black fled.  No one was hurt, but we're searching the
school now."  

"I understand.  Thank you, Professor."  

                                     * * *


I learned the next day that Black had gotten into Grffindor tower by somehow
getting a list of passwords that Neville had written down and lost.  In
response, McGonagall had banned him from Hogsmeade trips, forbidden anyone from
telling him any new passwords, and thrown in a detention for good measure.  

"It isn't fair, McGongall blaming you," I said as I crossed blades with Neville
in the Chamber of Secrets.  "Security for all the common rooms is a joke.  It's
supposed to keep out pranksters.  The rest of the school's security is supposed
to keep out murderers."  

"I just couldn't remember them.  He changed them so often," replied Neville.  

"And that's part of what makes passwords less secure," I said, probing for an
opening in his defenses.  "And didn't anyone think of telling the portraits
what Black looks like so they can deny him entry, password or no password?"  

I raised my blade a bit too high and Neville's blade of red light passed
harmlessly through my midsection in a move that would have gutted me if the
weapon wasn't in training mode.  Sir Nicholas called a point to Neville.  

"It's a good thing you got us all those sneakoscopes for Christmas or I reckon
Harry wouldn't have survived the night," said Neville.  "I saw Black on the way
out.  He had a knife."  

"I want to know why none of my suites of armor saw him anywhere coming or
going," I said.  "They're stationed at every entrance, including the secret
ones that are only on Harry's map."  

"I've been patrolling since the first attack," reported the basilisk.  "If I'd
seen Black, I'd have petrified him."  

"Thank you for trying," said Ginny.  "We just have to keep our guard up."  

I faked low and managed a strike on Neville's head, evening the score between
us.  

"Have you checked your map to make sure Black's not hiding somewhere inside the
school?" asked Luna.  "Since none of the armor guarding the entrances saw him."
 

Harry dropped his guard and was scored against by Ron.  He quickly got out the
Marauder's Map and checked it over.  "No," he reported.  "No sign of him on the
map."  

"So, unless he's in a chamber like this," noted Sloth, "he's hiding out
somewhere off the grounds."  

"You should turn that map in, Harry," said Hermione.  "The teachers need to
know about the secret passage to Hogsmeade."  

"We can make them a mundane copy," I suggested.  "That way, they can secure the
passages, and no one needs to know what the real map can do."  

"But you already secured them," argued Ron.  "You put up those suits of armor."
 

"Which Black can apparently walk right past," noted Sloth.  "Maybe he has an
invisibility cloak."  

"Snape figures he must be getting help from someone inside the school," I
said.  "He suspects Lupin.  Maybe if we talk to them, we'll get more clues."  

"Well, we're already meeting Snape for occlumency," said Harry.  "That's as
good a time to ask him as any."  

                                     * * *


"I do hope Mr. Longbottom's nearly fatal mistake was instructive for all of
you," drawled Snape when we met for our occlumency lessons.  "I can teach you
to shield your thoughts, resist veritasyrum, and cast out possession, but none
of that will make any difference if you carelessly leave information lying
around.  Notes, diaries, confiding secrets in the wrong person.  All of the
occlumency training in the world won't preserve the secrets you aren't
committed to keeping."  

"You're not talking about Neville," said Harry.  "You're talking about my
parents making Sirius Black their Secret Keeper."  

"Well, well, you have been busy sticking your nose where it doesn't belong this
year," replied Snape.  

"You're also talking about Professor Lupin," I added.  "Dumbledore doesn't want
you saying anything, but you think he's helping Black."  

Snape's eyes narrowed.  "My opinion on the matter should have been simple
enough to pick up, but how did you discover the headmaster's?"  

"We overheard you talking on Halloween," said Ron.  

"We won't tell Dumbledore you said anything if that's what you're worried
about," said Sloth.  

"What did I just get through saying about trusting the wrong person?" snapped
Snape.  "What in the world makes you so sure you can trust me?"  

"Nothing," said Neville.  "You've got every reason to want to isolate Harry
from people who can actually protect him.  Black isn't You-Know-Who's only
servant outside Azkaban."  

"And if I were the one helping Black," hissed Snape, "you've all been
incredibly foolish letting yourselves be alone with me and then outright
telling me your suspicions."  

"If whoever is after Harry could move openly against Harry, they'd have done it
by now instead of waiting for Black," said Ginny.  

"Besides," said Luna cheerfully, "Neville never would have agreed to these
lessons unless Slytherin's basilisk was watching."  

On cue, the massive serpent from the Chamber of Secrets opened a parseltongue
locked secret passage and fully entered the potions classroom, towering over
Snape.  

"T-That creature-" stuttered Snape.  

"Protects the school," said Harry coolly.  "The school and all the students in
it.  Salazar Slytherin was worried about traitors making an invasion of the
school possible.  She was his answer."  Harry patted one of the basilisk's
coils.  

"If it turns out we can't trust you," said Neville, "she'll make you regret
it."  

"Well, this should be excuse enough," mused Snape as he sank into his chair. 
"If you do go to the Headmaster, I'm quite sure he shall excuse my telling you
my suspicions now that you've threatened me with a thousand year old basilisk
in pink earmuffs.  Remus Lupin is a werewolf."  

"We already know that," said Hermione.  "You got us looking for the signs with
your defense essay."  

Snape smiled.  "I'd hoped someone would be able to put the pieces together. 
But, yes, there's more than that.  Lupin has been a werewolf ever since he was
at school, where he was best friends with Sirius Black."  

"And with my dad," said Harry, defensively.  "Black betrayed all of them."  

"Then why wasn't Lupin at Petigrew's side when he went after Black?" asked
Snape.  "Lupin was a far better duelist than Petigrew, and their chances would
have been better two on one."  

"Why weren't you there?" asked Harry.  "You can duel and you owed my father a
life dept."  

"A life debt?" asked Snape, mockingly.  "Where in the world would you get such
a ridiculous idea?"  

"From Dumbledore," said Harry.  "He told me about how my father saved your
life."  

A dangerous look flashed in Snape's eyes, and he lowered his voice so it could
be further laced with venom.  "And did the headmaster tell you the
circumstances in which your father saved my life?  Or did he consider the
details too unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears?  I would hate for
you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter.  Have you been
imagining some act of glorious heroism?  Then let me correct you.  Your saintly
father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have
resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. 
There was nothing brave about what he did.  Certainly nothing worth a life
debt.  He was saving his own skin as much as mine.  Had their joke succeeded,
he would have been expelled from Hogwarts."  

"And Professor Lupin was in on this?" asked Hermione.  

"In on it?" asked Snape, amused.  "He was the key to the whole thing.  This
amusing prank involved tricking me into visiting a certain location on the full
moon."  

Snape let that sink in for a long moment before saying, "Now the Headmaster has
me brewing a wolfsbane potion so that our dear defense professor can retain his
sanity during the full moon and not become a danger to the students.  He can
just change, curl up in his office, and sleep off his time while the rest of us
pick up his slack."  

"If there was no life debt," asked Harry, "why did Professor Dumbledore say
there was?"  

"To give me an excuse for saving you from the Dark Lord," said Snape.  "It was
my role to hate you, to be unfairly biased against the Boy Who Lived in a
double potions class with the Slytherins, in front of all the children of
former Death Eaters."  

"Death Eaters?" asked Sloth.  

"The name the Dark Lord gave his servants," clarified Snape.  "They had to
believe Iw as on their side if I was to act as a spy, and you had to believe
the worst of me as well if the plan was to have any chance of succeeding.  Your
mind was an open book before your occlumency lessons."  

"That explains how you acted with Harry," said Neville.  "What about me?"  

"You, Longbottom," said Snape, "are a danger to yourself and others.  You
melted your cauldron on the first day of class trying to make a simple boil
cure.  If I didn't watch you like a hawk every second you were in my class, I
could have counted the survivors of your incompetence on my one remaining
hand.  There has been nothing unfair about my treatment of you."  

Neville's confidence deflated in an instant.  He blushed hotly and stared at
his shoes.  

"You've been spying on his servants and antagonizing Harry to keep up your
cover?" said Hermione.  "Why tell us?"  

"Firstly, Miss Granger, because I am being threatened with a basilisk," said
Snape, dryly.  "Secondly, because I need you all to grasp how important it is
that everyone continue believing we are enemies.  The headmaster is the only
person fully aware of my position, and it needs to stay that way.  If you were
to come to the conclusion that I didn't want Harry dead, and you didn't know
you had to hide that information..."  

"Why don't you want me dead?" asked Harry, drawing looks from the rest of us. 
"What?  It's a legitimate question.  He's been holding on to a grudge against
my father twelve years after he died."  

"Your father was a bullying, strutting delinquent who went out of his way to
make my life miserable the entire time I knew him," explained Snape,  "You bear
an uncanny resemblance to the man, except that you have your mother's eyes. 
Your resemblance to James Potter makes it easier to play the part of hating
you, but I am well aware you are not James Potter."  

"He saved me," said Harry quietly, almost to himself.  "When Voldemort came, he
tried to fight him to give my mother time to escape with me."  

"And where did you hear that fairy tale?" asked Snape.  

"From the dementors," said Harry.  "Every time they get close, I can hear
Voldemort murdering my parents.  I was just a baby, but when they get close,
the worst things that ever happened to you come back crystal clear."  

Snape was speechless.  

"I think that's enough discussion for now," I said.  "Maybe we should get back
to the occlumency lessons."  

                                     * * *


Sloth and I were still getting remedial defense lessons with Professor Lupin,
so we just brought the others with us at the scheduled time.  

"What's all this about?" asked Lupin when we all crowded into the otherwise
empty defense classroom.  

"Are you really a werewolf, Professor?" asked Neville, still a bundle of nerves
after our meeting with Snape.  

Lupin put on an easy smile and said, "I won't deny it.  How did you figure it
out?"  

"Professor Snape's essay," said Hermione.  

"He'd be delighted," said Lupin.  "He assigned that essay hoping someone would
realize what my symptoms meant."  

"You don't have to worry," I said.  Gesturing to the others, I explained, "They
know Sloth and I aren't human, and they haven't said anything."  

"I see you're following in your father's footsteps, Harry," said Lupin,
smiling.  Harry didn't return the smile.  "What's wrong?"  

"My father," said Harry.  "Snape said my father tried to feed him to you once
back in school."  

Lupin winced.  "I thought Professor Dumbledore had sworn him to secrecy about
that.  That was why he resorted to that essay."  

"We threatened him with a basilisk," said Luna cheerfully.   

Lupin blinked.  "Where would you eve get a basilisk?"  

"From the Chamber of Secrets," said Ginny.  "You must've heard about it being
opened last year.  It was in all the papers."  

"Snape was telling the truth?" asked Harry, devastated.  

"There's more to it, Harry," said Lupin quickly.  "You should know the whole
story."  

"We're listening," said Sloth.  

"Your father befriended me when I was an awkward outcast who got sick a lot,"
said Lupin.  "When he figured out what I was, he didn't reject me.  He even
helped make my time transformed a little easier on me.  This was years ago. 
The potion I take to remain myself when I transform hadn't been invented yet,
so the only way I could stay safe was to isolate myself.  

"James, Peter, and Sirius all stood up for me at school and kept my secrets. 
Severus was different.  He was James' rival, and smart, even then.  He worked
out what I was from the timing of my illnesses.  Sirius got the idea to tell
Severus how to get where I was isolated.  James found out about Sirius' prank
just in time to drag Severus to safety."  

"Snape thinks my father was in on it," said Harry.  

"How did you stay friends with Sirius after that?" asked Sloth.  "He tried to
make you kill someone.  That's got to have been your worst nightmare."  

"Part of me thought Severus would've deserved it," said Lupin.  "He'd hardly
made my life easy, with his attempts to expose me.  And it's not as though he
didn't know what he was getting into.  The whole point of following me was to
prove I was a werewolf.  But really, those three were my only friends.  I
couldn't bear to lose them.  Of course, as things turned out, Sirius betrayed
James to his death, murdered Peter, and landed himself in Azkaban."  

"Professor Lupin, do you have any idea how Sirius Black keeps getting into the
castle?" asked Hermione.  

"We snuck in and out of the castle constantly as kids," said Lupin.  "Add that
knowledge to whatever dark magic he learned from Voldemort that's allowed him
to escape the dementors, and it isn't surprising he's been able to break in
twice."  

"Professor Snape thinks you're helping him," said Harry.  

"Of course he does," said Lupin, shaking his head.  "It's not an unreasonable
suspicion.  But he cost me every other friend I had.  I do think the
demenotrs'kiss the Ministry wants him subjected to is excessive, but that's
because I really wouldn't wish that fate on my worst enemy."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
I do think there were a number of things about what we learn about Harry's
parents' generation that didn't get enough emphasis in the cannon.  Sirius
really did try to murder Snape.  Also, for all his bullying behavior, James did
befriend someone no one else would have, and stood by Lupin after finding out
his secret. 
***** What You Can Do And What You Should Do *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 31) What You Can Do And What
You Should Do
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Another Hogsmeade trip was scheduled soon, and now neither Harry nor Neville
were allowed to go.  Hermione and Sloth had finished preparing the petitions
for the Ministry, and those in our group still allowed to visit Hogsmeade had
been recruited to knock on every door in the village and get people to sign. 
It made for a long day.   Twice as long as a normal day, in fact, since I used
the time turner to knock on twice as many doors as was possible.  

Sloth, Hermione, and I felt accomplished as we returned.  Ron just felt tired
and frustrated.  He'd been hoping to visit the joke shop again.  We came back
to a whirlwind of bad news.  

Harry and Neville had gotten into a fight when Neville tried to stop Harry from
sneaking off to Hogsmeade.  Neither of them were badly hurt, but they'd been
caught by Snape, who managed to piece together what the fight had been about. 
Snape confiscated Harry's invisibility cloak and called Lupin to look over the
map, which had been wiped clean at the time, so it wouldn't function without
its passphrase.  Lupin took the map for "examination" before privately
revealing he knew full well what it was, and refused to return it and enable
Harry to further endanger himself using it.  

After the combination of Snape and Lupin lecturing him about all the effort
being expended to protect him, Harry had apologized to Neville.  Between making
up and Lupin managing to get the pair out of punishment for the fight, things
had been looking up.  Then Harry had received a letter from Hagrid, covered in
tears, informing him that Buckbeak had lost his case and was to be executed.  

                                     * * *


Our first chance to talk to Hagrid was at our Care of Magical Creatures class.
 

"It's all my fault," said Hagrid blankly.  "They was all sitting there in black
robes and I kept dropping me notes and forgetting all them dates you looked up
for me.  And then Lucius Malfoy stood up and said his bit, and the committee
just did exactly what he told them."  

"There's still the appeal," said Ron, trying to snap Hagrid out of his daze. 
"Don't give up yet.  We're working on it."  

We'd arrived back at the castle when Hagrid respond, "It's no good, Ron.  The
committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm just going to make sure the rest of
Buckbeak's time is the happiest he's ever had.  I owe him that."  Hagrid was
sobbing as he made his way back to his cabin.  

"Look at him blubber," said Draco maliciously.  "Have you ever seen anything
quite as pathetic?  And he's supposed to be our teacher."  

My wand was in my hand before I'd properly worked out what I was going to do
with it.  Hermione skipped that step and slapped Draco hard across the face.  

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul- you evil-" Hermione spat as she
wound up another slap.  Loki growled low at Draco and took on his chimera form
in a burst of blue and red light, causing Crabbe and Goyle to step back a pace.
 

Ron held Hermione back from hitting Malfoy again, so instead she drew her
wand.  The Slytherins ran for it, retreating into the castle dungeons.  

                                     * * *


Hermione didn't calm down all through Arithmancy, and when we met back up for
Divination, she was only marginally less flustered.  I was of half a mind to
give Draco an injury as bad as the one he'd faked to get Buckbeak condemned. 
It was petty and small of him, and an innocent creature was going to die over
it.  It was enough to make me forget my own troubles for a while.  

Professor Trelawney introduced the crystal ball earlier than originally
planned.  Each table had a  ball filled with faintly luminescent gas that
slowly boiled and swirled randomly.  We were instructed to clear our minds and
gaze into the mist.  

As I stared, patterns started to become visible in the swirling depths of my
crystal ball.  The patterns triggered a brief flash of memory.  A vague
rectangle, and I recalled the Gate opening before me.  A kind of lopsided
pinwheel and my mind conjured an image of the marching Leto statues Father
Cornello animated.  Then I recalled something new, something I hadn't
personally experienced.  A fully formed memory somewhere buried in my
subconscious of Harry and Hermione riding Buckbeak and opening a window for
Sirius Black to climb out of.  

Suddenly, I knew why divination was working for me and Sloth.  We had seen the
Gate.  All the knowledge in the universe had poured through us, and even though
we couldn't process most of it, we saw everything.  The techniques of
divination were a way of accessing what we had seen but not understood at the
time.  Any number of potential omens, meaning any number of things would always
be available, but since on some level, we knew what was coming already, our
attention would only be drawn to omens that genuinely reflected the future.  

As I pondered the implications of a sufficiently large number of
correspondences, gathered from five full years of training and practice, my
concentration was broken by Hermione exclaiming, "Oh, for Goodness sake!  Not
that ridiculous Grim again!"  

Professor Trelawney drew herself up and said, "I am sorry to say that from the
moment you have arrived in this class, my dear, it has been apparent that you
do not have what the noble art of divination requires.  Indeed, I don't
remember ever meeting a student who's mind was so hopelessly mundane."  

"Fine!" snapped Hermione, who began gathering her books.  "Fine!  I give up! 
I'm leaving!"  She stormed out.  

It was sad.  Hermione gave up the subject of divination at the same moment it
really clicked for me.  As one of the other students pointed out, this was
another fulfilled prophecy for Professor Trelawney.  She'd predicted one of our
number leaving forever on our first day of class.  

                                     * * *


Just as divination clicked, and I was now certain I could do it, I hit a
roadblock in Charms.  Alchemy and magic would have been equally impressive to
the young Marcus Oren who believed that the alchemy Father Cornello used proved
he was a chosen of the sun god Leto, but the truth was, they were very
different disciplines.  Magic can't turn lead into gold or grass into bread. 
There were some things each discipline simply couldn't do.  No Philosopher's
Stone could ever enable me to make a bag bigger on the inside than the
outside.  I knew eventually I'd hit a hard limit on my ability to cleverly
apply alchemy to mimic magic.  

Today's class was cheering charms.  Professor Flitwick paired us off and went
over the incantation and wand movements.  The whole time, my body was frozen as
every ounce of mental energy was spent racing from one possibility of
duplicating the effect to the next.  Manipulating brain chemistry was
hilariously dangerous, especially for an effect like this.  I could relatively
safely transmute the air in my partner's lungs into laughing gas, but names
aside, that was more likely to anesthetize him than cheer him up.  

Alchemyis primarily about manipulating matter, and feelings are as non material
as it gets.  If he were a homunculus, I could use the oroboros mark to make
adjustments to his memories and mental state.  The blood seal on a soul bound
to metal might work the same way.  But on an ordinary human, it wasn't
possible.  

For the first time since coming to Hogwarts, I didn't manage a spell.  I'm
certain I'd have felt awful about it if my partner hadn't managed to cast a
cheering charm on me.  As a result, I also didn't feel the dread that would've
been perfectly natural when Professor Flitwick asked me to stay after class.  

"Marcus," said Flitwick, "have a seat."  

I sat down, a broad grin still plastered on my face from the cheering charms
cast on me.  

"I've been teaching a long time," continued Professor Flitwick, "and I've seen
all sorts of problems students have with one spell or another.  I didn't want
to say anything in front of the rest of the class, but I've seen the problem
you're having before."  

"You have?" I asked, surprise temporarily dominating my emotions before I broke
out into a short giggling fit.  

Used to dealing with students in altered states of consciousness, Professor
Flitwick maintained his composure and sincerity as he responded.  "Yes,
Marcus.  You're thinking this spell is beyond you.  That it'll never come out
right, no matter how hard you work.  Am I right?"  

I nodded.  

"You've been through a lot the last couple of years.  Professor Lockheart and
his attempt to silence you with his memory charms.  The dementor that attacked
you on the train. This is the first mind altering spell you've been shown.  It
wouldn't surprise me if somewhere, deep down, you don't want this to be
something you can do."  

He thought this was a mental block.  He had no idea I'd faked every spell I'd
ever performed in his class.  Here he was, trying to help me, and I couldn't
even tell him what was really wrong.  I knew I was going to feel guilty once
this charm wore off.  

"Well, think about what I said, Marcus," concluded Professor Flitwick.  "Exams
are closer than they seem, and you'll want to perform your best.  And remember,
being able to do a charm doesn't mean you have to use it for real, nor does it
make you the same as other people who've misused their powers.  A charm is a
tool, nothing more."  

                                     * * *


"I'll buy you a new invisibility cloak," Ron offered Harry when we'd gathered
in the Chamber of Secrets for our fencing lessons with Headless  Nick.  

"I appreciate it," said Harry glumly.  

"Harry-" started Neville.  

"It was my own fault," said Harry.  "You were right."  

"Hopefully, Professor Lupin can use he map to catch Black next time he tries to
break in," I said.  

"I just wish there were some way to get my cloak back," said Harry.  "It
belonged to my dad.  It's the only thing of his that got passed down besides
the gold in Gringotts."  

"Ah, there you are!  Sorry I'm late!" called out Sir Nicholas as he entered the
Chamber.  We hushed and ignited our blades.  Neville's flickered and died.  

"That'll happen," I said, taking the useless hilt and replacing the burnt out
red stone with a fresh one.  "The power source doesn't last forever."  

The year was coming to a close and we'd been practicing nearly every day
together.  We'd made more progress than I'd hoped for.  None of us would be
mistaken for a master swordsman, but we'd drilled on the basics enough that it
had sunk in.  Our sparring matches were no longer an exercise in keeping our
distance and looking for an opening, but a quick succession of blocks and
counterattacks.  If I'd known a quarter of this all those years back, those
Nazi chimeras would never have done as well as they did.  

After the lesson, I caught Sloth.  At my direction, we headed in the opposite
direction as the Gryffindor ghost, to a corner where we could speak privately.
 

"We had cheering charms today," I reported.  "How'd you do?"  

"Professor Flitwick says I need more practice," said Sloth.  

"What method did you use?" I asked.  

"Nitrus oxide," she said.  "I ended up sending my partner into a laughing fit. 
What about you?"  

"I got hung up on the idea of manipulating emotions directly," I said.  "I
froze up and didn't end up managing anything."  

Sloth nodded.  "That's a first.  You're usually three steps ahead of me on
duplicating spells.  Don't worry.  Nitrus oxide works.  It's just a matter of
working out the dosage."  

                                     * * *


Back in the Ravenclaw common room, I had a book on drugs and medicines open on
the desk I was at.  Crudely sketched tables of body mass, uptake rates, and
concentrations were spread all across every available inch of space.  I was
getting more and more flustered.  No one would ever be able to accuse me of not
knowing biology.  I could, and had, made a working human body from scratch. 
But there were too many variables to get the level of precision I needed, and
even when I looked at other drugs, the same problem arose.  

"Is that arithmancy?" asked Luna, leaning over my desk.  

"Charms," I said, more harshly than I intended.  "Sorry.  It's just, I've been
working on this cheering charm for an hour, and I don't feel like I'm getting
any closer."  

"Is there anything I can do to help?"  

"Not unless you want to be a guinea pig."  

"I thought you were working on charms, not transfiguration."  

I laughed.  Luna's deadpan delivery caused all the nerves and tension I'd built
up to crack into a peal of laughter that quickly took on a hysterical tone.  L:
una didn't seem to mind and just smiled and stared until I regained my
composure.  That dam of nervous energy breached, I was thinking clearly again.
 

Why shouldn't it be possible to effect the mind of an ordinary human with
alchemy directly?  I could grab the mind and soul using alchemy and rip them
out of the body, binding them to metal.  I'd experimented with Sloth enough to
understand how to manipulate the mind of a homunculus through the oroboros
mark.  

"I think I've got it," I said.  "Can you come back by in about ten minutes?  I
need to design a new array.  When it's done, I need a normal human to test it
on."  

"I don't think anyone's called me normal since I got to school," noted Luna. 
From the tone, I couldn't tell if she was flattered or insulted.  "See you in
ten minutes."  She found a chair by the fireplace and got to reading a
magazine.  

Taking elements from the soul attachment array and the arrays for modifying the
minds of my chessmen, I managed to put together an array capable of directly
manipulating the thoughts, memories, and emotions of an ordinary human being. 
It would need a red stone, even if I did still have my soul.  With Luna
allowing me to test it on her, I confirmed it worked.  

Professor Flitwick had been right.  It was a mental block.  And he'd been right
about why I was blocking myself.  As long as it was just the handful of beings
who had an obvious interface like a homunculus' oroboros mark who were
susceptible to alchemy tampering with their minds, the problem was small enough
that I could avoid thinking about it.  Now I knew how to alter anyone's mind in
any way I felt like at any time.  Occlumency might prove a defense, but that
still left the overwhelming majority of people vulnerable.  

I didn't like the idea that there was knowledge people shouldn't have.  As much
as I valued the opportunity I'd had to learn, I genuinely wanted others to have
the same opportunities.  But this sort of discovery was why alchemists encrypt
our research.  For some secrets, there needs to be a limit, a gatekeeper. 
Otherwise, something like this could spell the end of free will.  

                                     * * *


Harry was being kept at Quidditch practice every day of the Easter holiday. 
The final match of the season was just after classes resumed.  So, Ron's final
exam in this year's alchemy lessons was held over the Easter holiday as well. 
I'd assigned the animals and the objective, and Ron spent much of the holiday
sketching arrays and figuring out how to make it work.  

The result of Ron's efforts was a serpent with brightly colored, feathered
wings, and a crest of feathers along the top of its head.  The wings were
powerful enough to carry it aloft, and they could be comfortably folded back
along its body.  It wrapped itself around Ron's shoulders when he carried the
completed creature into the room where Sloth and I could examine it.  

At Ron's prompting, the chimera said, "Hello," in plain English.  

"Do you understand us?" asked Sloth.  

"Yes, I do," replied the chimera.  

"Tell them what else," said Ron.  They'd obviously rehearsed this.  

"I have an extended lifespan," said the chimera.  "I have the muscles of a
constrictor as well as venomous fangs.  My eyesight is enhanced, and Ron is
teaching me how to read."  

"Are you in any pain?" I asked.  

"No pain," said the chimera.  

"What about when you were made?" asked Sloth.  

"No pain then either," said the chimera.  

"Congratulations, Ron," I said, standing to shake his hand.  "A talking
chimera, produced only by mixing animals.  You've proven you have an
understanding of bio alchemy better than most certified State Alchemists.  With
three years of training, you've managed to accomplish something that the
alchemist who made Sloth and Loki never could.   I'm very proud of you."  

"Have you given him a name?" asked Sloth.  

"I'm going with Ratchatcher," said Ron.  

                                     * * *


Harry won the Quidditch game, earning Gryffindor the Quidditch cup this year. 
The following month was quiet with no dementor attacks and no new developments
with Sirius Black. This allowed us all to focus on our exams.  

My intense review of bio alchemy served me well in transfiguration, where I had
to turn a tea pot into a tortoise.  Professor Flitwick was beaming at me as I
successfully emulated a cheering charm.  Just like in first year, Snape's exam
involved brewing a potion who's nature made it hard to think straight.  In this
case, a confusing concoction.  

Runes, History, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Herbology, and Muggle Studies were all
straightforward tests on the material.  Care of Magical Creatures saw us caring
for flobberworms again.  It was so simple, Hagrid was able to inform us of the
details of Buckbeak's appeal.  Apparently, the Ministry was sending an
executioner to the appeal, which was scheduled at the same time as our
Divination exam.  Ron tried to hand Hagrid a large sack of gold to bribe the
committee with, but Hagrid wouldn't accept it.  

Defense Against the Dark Arts saw us facing most of the creatures we'd learned
about this year in a large obstacle course, culminating with a boggart in a
trunk.  I earned full marks, managing to use occlumency to make the boggart
change from my mangled human remains into a pair of green plaid socks.  

In Divination, we were called in one by one to do crystal gazing under
Professor Trelawney's observation.  I stared into the swirling mist and let my
mind wander.  I again recalled something I had seen in the Gate.  A werewolf
attacked Ron, and a large, black dog came to his rescue, fighting off the
werewolf.  Trelawney was listening intently as I described the scene.  When I
described the grim attacking the werewolf to save Ron's life, she sighed and
noted I did well, but still needed practice on my interpretation.  

After Divination, an owl delivered a letter from Hagrid to Luna and I. 
Buckbeak had lost his appeal and was to be executed at sundown.  Hagrid's note
said not to come, that he didn't want us to see.  I had no intention of
abandoning Hagrid to that grief alone.  Luna and I grabbed our invisibility
cloaks and headed down to Hagrid's cabin.  

                                     * * *


We weren't the only ones who came.  Harry and Ron had shared a cloak, while
Neville, Hermione, and Ginny each hid under their own.  Sloth revealed herself
along with the others when we'd all slipped into Hagrid's cabin.  

"You shouldn't have come," said Hagrid.  "None of you, but especially you,
Harry."  

"This was important," said Neville with a meaningful look at Harry.  

"We won't let you face this alone," I said firmly.  

Hagrid tried to make tea, but his hands were shaking so badly he dropped the
milk jug which shattered on the floor.  Sloth clapped her hands and transmuted
it back together while Hermione went to get the spare out of the cupboard.  

"I won't be alone," said Hagrid.  "Dumbledore's going to come down while it...
while it happens.  Wrote me this morning.  Said he wants to-to be with me.  As
for you, you're to go back up to the castle.  I told you, I don't want you
watchin.  And you shouldn't be down here anyway.  If Fudge and Dumbledore catch
you out without permission, Harry, you'll be in big trouble."  

"Ron!" called out Hermione suddenly.  "Ron, look!  It's Scabbers!"  She'd
clamped a lid down on the spare milk jug that the rat had been hiding inside
for who knew how long.  

"So, we found the evil rat," said Ron harshly.  "I'm going to introduce you to
my new pet when we get you back to the dorm."  He took the jug from Hermione,
carefully keeping Scabbers pinned inside with the lid.  

"They're coming," said Hagrid suddenly, his eyes on the window.  "You got to
go.  They mustn't find you here.  Go, now.  I'll let you out the back way."  

We got under our cloaks as Hagrid showed us out.  I felt awful.  I could change
their minds.  Make them free Buckbeak and give Hagrid an apology for his
trouble.  My newfound alchemy array could do that and more.  Minister Fudge was
here.  One flick of my wand and we wouldn't have to worry about petitioning to
get our house elf agenda implemented. I could do a lot of good.  I wouldn't,
but I could.  That fact made it harder on me when the others protested.  

"Hagrid, we can't-"  

"We won't let them-"  

"We'll tell them what really happened-"  

"They can't kill him-"  

"Go!" ordered Hagrid.  "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble and all.  Go
quick.  Don't listen."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Neville's always had his priorities straight.  You don't break the school rules
unless there's a good reason.  If there is a good reason, he'll back you to the
hilt.  I'd been looking forward to Flitwick giving Greed good advice without
really knowing all the details.  He's been a teacher long enough and advised
enough students that he can get the broad strokes even if he doesn't have all
the information. 
***** The Confrontation in the Shrieking Shack *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 32) The Confrontation in the
Shrieking Shack
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


As we headed back toward the castle, the sound of an axe falling reached our
ears.  Harry must've tried to turn back, because there were sounds of a
struggle.  

"We can't," said Ron's disembodied voice.  "He'll be in worse trouble if they
know we've been to see him.  Ouch!"  

Scabbers dropped to the ground and scurried out from under the invisibility
cloak.  He scurried in the direction of the forest, but was intercepted by
Crookshanks.  The kneezle had apparently been left to wander the grounds as it
liked.  No time to have a stern talk with Hermione about responsible pet
ownership, we all tripped over each other's invisible feet trying to catch
Scabbers as Crookshanks drove him towards us.  

Crookshanks chased the rat, and we had to let our cloaks flap behind us rather
than cover us as we did likewise.  It was personal for Ron, who recaptured
Scabbers with a flying tackle that sent him over Crookshanks.  As we sighed
with relief, the massive black dog from my vision shot out from a hiding place
and closed its jaws around Ron's arm.  

Wands came up, aiming at the dog, but no one could get a clear shot.  Ron was
dragged down a tunnel at the base of the whomping willow.  We had to pursue.  I
pointed my wand at the murderous tree, and bands of red alchemic light wrapped
around its limbs and held them fast despite its struggles to free itself.  I
held the tree as the others ran after the dog, then donned the Ultimate Shield
and followed myself.  As I was no longer holding it still, the whomping willow
brought a heavy limb down on my head.  Wood splintered form the impact, and I
didn't feel a thing as I rushed into the tunnel.  

The tunnel was long and narrow.  Fortunately, it looked like the dog was
dragging Ron to the end rather than rip out his throat the instant it had him
in the tunnel.  We were all running as fast as the low ceilinged tunnel allowed
for, eventually emerging in a house with boarded up windows and ripped apart
furniture.  A streak in the thick dust led us upstairs.  

Harry, Sloth, and Hermione went up first, with Ginny, Luna, Neville, and I
following.  Ron had been injured int he struggle.  His leg looked broken. The
first three on the scene rushed to him, before he could speak.  

"Not a dog," said Ron through gritted teeth.  "Harry, it's a trap.  He's the
dog.  He's an animagus."  

Sirius Black stepped out form behind the door and called out "Expeliarmus!"
disarming Harry, Sloth, and Hermione using Ron's wand.  

"Expeliarmus!" came the unified cry of the four of us who'd not entered yet
when Black had sprung his trap.  All wands were guided back to the hands of
their rightful owners by a faint red light, leaving Black unarmed.  

"You're not killing Harry!" said Ginny.  

Harry's wand was aimed at Black like the rest of us (except Ron who was holding
Scabbers), but uniquely, he was trembling with fury.  

"You killed my parents," said Harry.  

Harry and Sirius stared at one another.  The rest of us might as well not be in
the room.  

"I don't deny it," said Sirius sadly, "but if you knew the whole story-"  

"The whole story?" demanded Harry.  "You sold them to Voldemort.  That's all I
need to know."  

Black seemed to have finally realized Harry was actually going to kill him,
because his voice became desperate.  "You've got to listen to me!  You'll
regret it if you don't!  You don't understand!"  

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, unable to stop his
voice from shaking with emotion.  "You never heard her, did you?  My mum,
trying to stop Voldemort killing me.  And you did that!  You did it!"  

I took a soul coin out of my pocket and said, "If you're going to do this, none
of us will blame you."  I put the weapon in Harry's free hand.  The Ultimate
Shield was still concealing my features.  I must've looked the absolute part of
a Faustian demon, because Harry hesitated.  We all watched, waiting for Harry's
decision.  

Before Harry'd decided, the sound of footsteps came from the floor below. 
Hermione called out, "We're up here!  We're up here!  Sirius Black!  Quick!"  

Professor Lupin burst in through the door, casting a disarming charm powerful
enough to send every wand flying along with that soul coin.  Acutely aware of
the danger that coin represented, I snatched it out of the air.  Lupin,
meanwhile, snatched all the wands out of the air.  

"Where is he, Sirius?" asked Lupin tersely.  

Black pointed at Ron.  

"But then, why hasn't he shown himself before now?" asked Lupin.  "Unless...
unless he was the one.  Unless you switched without telling me."  

Black nodded.  Lupin crossed the room and gave Sirius Black a hug.  

"Professor Snape was right about you," spat Hermione.  "You've been helping him
all along!"  

"You're wrong," said Lupin.  "I haven't been helping him,, though I intend to
start now.  Let me explain."  

"Does it have anything to do with Scabbers?" guessed Ron, going pale.  Sloth
took a red stone out of her pocket and used it to fix Ron's leg.  

"I want to know this too," I said.  

Lupin jumped when I spoke, as though he hadn't noticed me until now.  He
carefully looked over everyone in the room before asking, "Marcus?  Is that
you?"  

"It's called, the Ultimate Shield," I said, withdrawing the carbon hardening
from my head and making my face recognizable.  

"I see," Lupin said.  Then, regaining his thread, Lupin continued, "Yes, it is
all about your pet rat."  

"Is he evil?" asked Luna.  Black nodded.  "I knew it."  

"You believe him?" demanded Harry.  

"As I said, I can explain.  Look," Lupin handed us all our wands back, and
holstered his own.  "There.  You're armed.  We're not.  Now will you listen?"  

"If you haven't been helping him, how did you know he was here?" asked Harry.  

"The map," answered Lupin.  "The Marauder's Map.  I was in my office examining
it-"  

"You kow how to work it?" interrupted Harry.  

"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin.  "I helped write it.  I'm
Mooney.  That was my friends' nickname for me at school.  The important thing
is, I was watching it carefully this evening because I had an idea that you all
might try to sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was
executed.  And I was right, wasn't it?  

"You might've been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry-"  

"How'd you know about the cloak?" demanded Harry.  

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it," said Lupin, waving a
hand to brush off the question.  "The point is, even if you're wearing an
invisibility cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map."  

"Handy feature," said Sloth.  

Lupin continued.  "I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. 
Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid and set off back toward the castle, but
you were now accompanied by someone else."  

"Scabbers," said Ron, staring balefully at the rat that was squeaking and
clawing to escape the young wizard's grip.  

"That's not a rat," said Sirius Black.  

"No, he's not," agreed Lupin.  "He's a wizard."  

"An animagus," finished Black, "named Peter Petigrew."  

"Peter Petigrew's dead," said Harry.  Then he pointed his wand at Black and
said, "He killed him twelve years ago."  

"I meant to," said Black hatefully, "but little Peter got the better of me. 
Not this time, though!"  

Black lunged at Ron, murder in his eyes.  Sloth put a hand on Ron's shoulder,
but Lupin caught hold of Black and held him back.  

"Sirius, no!" yelled Lupin.  "Wait!  We can't do it like that!  They need to
understand.  We've got to explain!"  

"We can explain afterwards!" replied Sirius, trying to break free.  

"You can't touch him without my permission," said Sloth with an arrogant smirk.
 

"They've got a right to know everything!" argued Lupin, still holding back the
escaped convict.  "Ron's kept him as a pet!  There are parts of it even I don't
understand!  And Harry!  You owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"  

That seemed to get through to him, and Sirius stopped struggling.  "All right,
then," he said.  "Tell them whatever you like, but make it quick, Remus.  I
want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for."  

"There were witnesses who saw Petigrew die," said Harry.  "A whole street full
of them."  

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" snapped Black.  

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," said Lupin.  "I believed it myself
until I saw the map tonight.  Because the Marauder's Map never lies, Peter's
alive.  Ron's holding him, Harry."  

"But, Professor Lupin, Scabbers can't be Petigrew," said Hermione.  "It just
can't be true.  You know it can't."  

"Why can't it be true?" asked Lupin evenly.  

"Because-because people would know if Peter Petigrew was an animagus.  We did
animagi in class with Professor McGonagall, and I looked them up when I did my
homework.  The Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can
become animals.  There's a register showing what animal they become, and their
markings and things.  And I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the
register.  And there have been only seven animagi this century.  And Petigrew's
name wasn't on the list."  

"Was Sirius Black on the list?" asked Ginny dryly.  From the way Hermione
blushed and quieted herself, the answer was obviously no.  

Lupin laughed.  "The Ministry never knew that there used to be three
unregistered animagi running around Hogwarts."  

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," said Black
angrily as he continued to glare hatefully at the struggling Scabbers.  "I've
waited twelve years.  I'm not going to wait much longer."  

"All right," said Lupin, "but you need to help me. I only knew how it began."  

Suddenly, the door to the room we were in opened of its own accord.  Lupin
looked outside and reported, "No one there."  

"This place is haunted," offered Ron.  

"It's not," said Lupin suspiciously.  "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted. 
The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me.  This was
where I was isolated during my school days for the safety of the other
students.  

"Do you recall I told you my friends helped make my time transformed easier? 
This is how they did it.  By becoming animagi."  

"My dad too?" asked Harry.  

"Yes indeed," said Lupin.  "It took them the best part of three years to work
out how to do it.  Your father and Sirius were the cleverest students in the
school, and lucky they were, because the animagus transformation can go
horribly wrong.  One reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those
attempting to do it.  Peter needed all the help he could get from James and
Sirius.  Finally, in our fifth year, we managed it.  They could each turn into
a different animal at will."  

"But how did that help you?" asked Hermione.  

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals. 
A werewolf is only a danger to people.  They sneaked out of the castle every
month under James' invisibility cloak."  

"That makes sense," I said, "but how does that figure into Petigrew still being
alive?"  

"So, that's the story you're feeding them," said Professor Snape, dropping an
invisibility cloak on the floor.  "Very useful Potter.  I thank you.  

"You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?  I've just been to your
office, Lupin.  You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a goblet full
along.  And very lucky I did.  Lucky for me, I mean.  Lying on your desk was a
certain map.  One glance at it told me all I needed to know.  I saw you running
along this passageway and out of sight."  

"Severus-" started Lupin, but Snape kept on, a manic glint in his eye.  

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend
Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof.  Not even I dreamed you
would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout."  

"Severus, you're making a mistake!" said Lupin.  "You haven't heard
everything!  I can explain!  Sirius is not here to kill Harry!"  

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape.  "I shall be interested to see how
Dumbledore takes this.  He was quite convinced you were harmless.  You know,
Lupin, a tame werewolf."  

"You're a fool," said Lupin almost to himself.  Then, "Is a schoolboy grudge
worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"  

There were no words when Snape cast his spell that bound Lupin in conjured
ropes.  Black moved to rush Snape, but found Snape's wand already pointed
between his eyes.  

"Give me a reason," said Snape low.  "Give me a reason to do it and I swear I
will."  

The pair stared one another down for a long moment.  Neville was the first work
up the nerve to speak.  

"You can check their story," said Neville haltingly.  

"Longbottom," sneered Snape without taking his eyes off Black, "you and the
rest of Potter's little gang are already facing suspension from this school. 
You are out of bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. 
Even you should be smart enough to know now is the time to hold your tongue."  

"But if-if there was a mistake," said Hermione.  

"Keep quiet, you stupid girl!" yelled Snape.  "Don't talk about what you don't
understand"  Then to Black, "Vengeance is very sweet.  How I hoped I would be
the one to catch you."  

"The joke's on you again, Severus," said Black defiantly.  "As long as this boy
brings his rat up to the castle' I'll come quietly."  

"Up to the castle?" asked Snape rhetorically.  "I don't think we need to go
that far.  All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the
willow.  They'll be very pleased to see you, Black.  Pleased enough to give you
a little kiss, I dare say."  

"If Petigrew really is alive, isn't he the one you want to feed to the
dementors?" asked Harry.  He proceeded to snatch Scabbers out of Ron's hand and
thrust him in Snape's face.  "Check!  If you're right, we call all watch the
dementors suck out Black's soul together."  

Harry's viciousness reached Snape, who bound Black as he had Lupin and rounded
on Harry.  "If it will silence all this nonsense the fine.  Hold Weasley's rat
tight and I'll cast an animagus reversal spell.  If there's any truth to their
nonsense, it will become a man.  If it does not, you'll come along quietly. 
Agreed?"  

Harr nodded, and Snape pointed his wand at Scabbers.  A burst of blue light
shot from Snape's wand and struck the rat, who did indeed transformbefore our
eyes into a short, beady-eyed man with a missing index finger.  Snape was
stunned with shock.  Fortunately, the rest of us were there to cover Petigrew.
 

"Let's hear the rest of what they have to say now, shall we?" said Sloth, as
she waved her wand at Sirius and Lupin, causing their ropes to undo themselves.
 

"Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin with a mock friendly smile.  "Long time, no
see."  

"Severus, you have to help me!" said Petigrew quickly.  "They're going to kill
me!  He already tried to kill me once, and now he's got Remus thinking I was
the traitor!"  

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," said
Lupin.  

"Sorted things out?" said Petigrew in disbelief.  "I knew he'd come after me! 
I knew he'd be back for me!  I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"  

"Enough of this!" yelled Snape, who lunged forward and grabbed Petigrew by the
chin with his free hand and kept his wand pointed at his temple.  "Potter,
would ou and your friends be so kind as to keep wands on Black and the werewolf
while I get the truth out of this rat?"  

We complied, and Lupin casually raised his hands.  After a moment, Black did
the same.  Snape stared into Petigrew's eyes.  He squirmed and tried to break
free, but Snape held him firmly in place.  We'd been on the receiving end of
Snape's legilimency all year, and knew full well what Petigrew was going
through.  

While Snape dug through Petigrew's mind, Hermione asked, "Mr. Black... Sirius? 
If you don't mind me asking, how- how did you get out of Azkaban if you didn't
use dark magic?"  

Black pondered while Petigrew squirmed.  "I don't know how I did it.  I think
the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent.  That
wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't suck it out of me, but it
kept me sane and knowing who I am, helped me keep my powers.  So, when it all
became too much, I could transform in my cell, become a dog.  Dementors can't
see, you know.  They feel their way toward people by feeling off their
emotions.  They could tell that my feelings were less- less human, less complex
when I was a dog, but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like
everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them.  But I was weak, very weak,
and I had no hope of driving them far away from me without a wand.  

"But then I saw Peter in this picture."  Black pulled a clipping from the Daily
Prophet showing Ron making gold with Scabbers perched on his shoulder.  "I
realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry, perfectly positioned to act if one hint
reached his ears that the dark side was gathering strength again.  Ready to
strike the moment he could be sure of allies, and to deliver the last Potter to
them.  

"If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort?  He'd be
welcomed back with honors.  So, you see, I had to do something.  I was the only
one who know Peter was still alive.  

"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, nad the dementors couldn't
destroy it.  It wasn't a happy feeling.  It was an obsession, but it gave me
strength.  It cleared my mind.  So, one night when they opened my door to bring
me food, I slipped past them as a dog.    It's so much harder for them to sense
animal emotions that they were confused.  I was thin, thin enough to slip
through the bars. I swam as a dog back to the mainland.  I journeyed north and
slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog.  I've been living in the forest
ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch of course.  You fly as
well as your father did, Harry."  

At that moment, Snape threw Petigrew contemptuously to the ground, and again
cast the spell to bind a target in conjured ropes.  "It seems we shall have to
drag this creature to the castle after all.  He was the Potters' Secret Keeper,
not Black.  Fortunately, the Minister of Magic is in attendance and should be
able to sort this whole business out."  

Sirius leaned over the prone Petigrew and said, "If you transform, Peter, we
will kill you."  

                                     * * *


All of us covered Petigrew as we climbed through the tunnel.  

"You know what this means?" asked Black.  "Turning Petigrew in?"  

"You're free," said Harry.  

"Yes, but I'm also," said Black, "I don't know if anyone ever told you.  I'm
your godfather."  

"Yeah, I know that," said Harry.  

"Well," persisted Black awkwardly, "your parents appointed me guardian if
anything happened to them.  I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay
with your aunt and uncle, but, well, if you wanted a... a different home."  

"What?  live with you?" asked Harry, unsure.  

"If that's what you want, Harry, we'll support you," said Sloth.  

"Of course, we'll be checking up regularly if you do go," I added.  

"I- I don't know," said Harry.  

"Of course," said Black.  "I thought you wouldn't want to.  I understand.  I
just thought I'd-"  

"I didn't say no," said Harry.  

"You can work out your living arrangements once we've delivered Petigrew to the
castle, Potter," said Snape.   

Crookshanks pressed on the knot that paralyzed the whomping willow, and we
exited the tunnel.  We were still a ways from the castle when Lupin froze, and
began transforming.  Moonlight had flooded the grounds.  

"He didn't take his potion tonight!" exclaimed Hermione.  "He's not safe!"  

"Run.  Run now," said Black.  "Leave it to me.  Run!"  Black charged at Lupin,
changing into his black dog form, and shoulder checked Lupin away from the rest
of us.  Hexes and curses flew from various wands, but Snape's essay had left
one thing clear about fighting werewolves.  Nonfatal spells didn't have any
effect on a werewolf.  

While Lupin had our attention, Petigrew rolled and managed to grab Lupin's
dropped wand.  A flash of magical energy hit snape square in the chest,
knocking him unconscious.  Harry disarmed Petigrew, but the animagus took the
opportunity to transform and dart off through the tall grass.  

Lupin fled, and Black charged off in the direction Petigrew had scurried off
in.  Snape needed Madam Pomfrey's help.  We were working out how to get him
there when in the distance, a dog yelped in pain.  Harry clutched his wand and
ran off in that direction.  

"No!" I called after Harry.  Then I turned to the others.  "Sloth and I'll go
after Harry and Sirius.  Werewolf bites can't hurt us.  You get Snape up to the
castle."  

I covered my head with the Ultimate Shield and ran after Harry.  Sloth ran at
my side.  We came upon Harry and Sirius, now back in human form, on a lake
shore in the forbidden forest.  A hundred dementors glided across the lake.  

Black was curled up in a ball, muttering, "no," over and over.  Sloth's knees
gave out, and she collapsed.  Harry was calling out, "Expecto Patrunum," and
conjuring a faint silvery mist to shield himself, but the effort was clearly
draining him.  I strode toward the dementors.  I felt more like myself than I
had all year.  A smirk was playing on my lips.  

"The last time we fought, I wasn't thinking straight," I told the dementors. 
"That's your big advantage, isn't it?  You aren't particularly strong."  I
gripped the wrist of the nearest dementor, lifted it up, then slammed it to the
ground.  "You give the illusion of superhuman strength because by the time
anyone's close enough to test you, you've already drained away their will to
fight."  

The dementors halted their advance.  Sightless faces turned in my direction,
and the temperature lowered.  A thin layer of frost began to form under my
feet.  

"You can't feed off me anymore," I said with a note of satisfaction.  I tapped
a small metal pin on my robes with a transmutation circle etched into it. 
"It's the same principle as a patronus.  A consciousness filled with nothing
but happiness and joy, incapable of sorrow or despair.  While I'm wearing this,
your powers can't touch me."  

As I expected, the full hundred dementors began to glide through the air toward
me.  Harry succumbed to exhaustion, his faint patronus attempt going out. 
Scabbed hands reached out towards me, seeking to physically remove the source
of my protection.  When they had clustered together, I waved my wand at the
ground beneath them.  Sparks of red light accompanied hundreds of chains
springing from the ground beneath the dementors and latching manacles around
their limbs.  

"I realized something else about you when I calmed down enough to think
straight," I said.  "You get hungry.  And there's no reason for creatures,
magical or mundane, to feel hungry unless it can starve."  

The dementors tugged pointlessly against the metal chains.  They understood,
and they were sentient enough to feel fear.  

"No amount of physical force can harm you," I said with a shrug.  "That doesn't
mean you don't die.  I'm a bit curious how long it will take, but I think I can
live with not knowing.  Goodbye."  

I slashed my wand toward the ground and the chains retracted into it.  As the
dementors were dragged down, the earth opened up to accommodate them, red light
pouring from the opening.  The creatures struggled futilely to escape.  The
ground closed up when the last dementor was pulled under.  Entombed a hundred
feet beneath the ground, the dementors could no longer drain the hope and life
from those on the surface.  Sloth and Harry started to revive.  

"Here, eat this," I said, putting a piece of chocolate in Sloth's mouth.  

"What happened?" she asked, looking around.  

"I killed them," I said.  "You were right. The important thing was to make sure
I was thinking straight."  I gave Harry some chocolate saying, "I'll tell you
all about it later.  For now, we need to get everyone back to the castle."  

"Back to the castle?" asked Harry coming around.  "No!  We don't have
Petigrew!  We have to catch him!"  

"Sirius isn't coming around," I pointed out.  "We don't know which of those
wounds, if any, were from Lupin.  He isn't aware enough to get him to eat the
chocolate I brought. If he doesn't get to Madam Pomfrey he'll die."  

"Once we're at the castle, I'll head straight for Lupin's office," offered
Sloth.  "If Petigrew's anywhere on the grounds, the map'll help us find him."  

Reluctantly, Harry agreed.  Sloth transmuted a stretcher, which Harry and I
used to carry Black.  At the castle gate, we saw Minister Fudge.  

"Harry, thank goodness, you're alright.  When we got word you were out with- 
Is that Sirius Black?"  

"Yes," said Harry as Sloth ran off.  "He needs help.  We've got to get him to
the hospital wing.  The dementors-"  

At that point, two nearby suits of armor grabbed Sirius off the stretcher.  

"Take him to the hospital wing," I ordered the armor.  "And spread the word
that Black is no longer to be captured or killed."  

"What?" asked the Minister of Magic as the two suits of armor nodded and went
to carry out my instructions.  

"They're mine," I said.  "A gift from my family to improve security at the
school once word got to us about Black's escape."  

"I see," said Fudge, nodding.  

We then launched into an explanation about what we'd learned and Sirius'
innocence.  Fudge waved us off.  

"No, no, your friends already explained this.  They're waiting for you in the
hospital wing.  You ought to get checked out as well."  

Sighing with relief, we followed Fudge to the hospital wing.  I'd be able to
get my armored minions searching for Petigrew once we were there.  It was bound
to be easier now that I knew what both forms of the target looked like.  

"What was the meaning of sending Sirius Black here?" demanded Madam Pomfrey. 
"Unconscious or no, I can't have him upsetting my other patients."  

"Unavoidable, I'm afraid," said Fudge, apologetically.  "I'll have him moved to
a room with a lock until we can sort this matter out."  

Buckbeak's executioner arrived to carry Sirius off.  The Minister left wiht
him.  I issued new orders to the armors, and finally, we were let in to see the
others while Madam Pomfrey looked us over.  Snape was still unconscious from
whatever Petigrew had hit him with.  Everyone else was up and agitated.  

"You shouldn't have brought Sirius back here," said Ron.  "They don't believe
us about Petigrew."  

"They think we've been confounded," huffed Hermione.  

Harry's spirits fell and he sat down on a bed.  Madam Pomfrey came by, forcing
chocolate on us for our dementor exposure.  Sloth arrived back, reporting,
"He's gone," and returning the Marauder's Map to Harry.  

Dumbledore came in shortly, and arranged to speak privately with us.  He'd
spoken with Black, who'd revived in his tower cell, and was convinced of his
story.  Unfortunately, he couldn't convince Fudge we were telling the truth. 
Ultimately, the only thing Dumbledore thought could convince Fudge was bringing
him Petigrew.  Apparently, Fudge was contacting the Ministry to send another
dementor to perform the Kiss on Black.  

"What we need," said Dumbledore meaningfully, "is more time.  Now, pay
attention.  Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh
floor, thirteenth windows from the right of the West Tower.  If all goes well,
you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight, but remember, you
must not be seen.  Miss Granger, Mr. Oren, you know the law.  You know what is
at stake.  You must not be seen.  

"I am going to lock you in.  It is... five minutes to midnight.  Three turns
should do it.  Good luck."  

The door closed behind Dumbledore, and I started to speak quickly, getting out
my time turner.  "Harry, you have to go with Hermione.  Rescue Buckbeak and use
him to get Sirius out.  I'll go after Petigrew."  

"What about us?" asked Sloth.  

"The more people in the past, the more chances something could go wrong," I
explained.  

"Then why's Harry going with Hermione?" asked Ron.  

"Because I saw a vision of the plan working when we started in on the crystal
ball," I said.  "Harry and Hermione were the ones riding Buckbeak."  

"You'll need this," said Neville, offering an invisibility cloak to Harry. 
"It's the one Professor Snape was using.  You said it belonged to your dad."  

"Thanks, Neville," said Harry, accepting his cloak.  

I focused my thoughts.  If I landed in the past anywhere but right in front of
Petigrew, I needed to find my past self and deliver a paradoxical message.  I
turned over my time turner and felt the familiar sensation of rushing
backward.  Then, I landed with a splash in the ocean.  

                                     * * *


The swimming lessons I'd taken allowed me to stay afloat well enough to confirm
that Petigrew wasn't here, and that shore was not visible.  I quickly
transmuted a boat out of ice then tried to get my bearings.  

Astronomy class came to my rescue.  I knew the date and time, so I was able to
verify my position using the stars.  I was miles from Hogwarts.  Apparently,
the one place I'd committed to not cause paradox was also a place I would cause
a paradox by arriving at, so again, I was deposited too far away to cross my
own timeline.  

That did mean it was possible to get back to Hogwarts within the hour, since I
was always deposited the minimum paradox free distance from my past self.  I
used more ice to construct a makeshift broomstick, planted my spare red stone
in the end of it, and took off back for Hogwarts.  When I approached the
school, Sirius Black flew past me riding Buckbeak the hippogriff.  They'd
managed their part, at least.  I pulled out my red stone, left my broom to
melt, and rushed up to the infirmary under my invisibility cloak.  

Harry and Hermione removed their cloaks at the same time as I did.  

"Well?" asked Dumbledore.  

"We did it!" reported Harry.  "Sirius has gone on Buckbeak!"  

I shook my head.  "Petigrew still escaped.  It was all I could do to get back
to the castle."  

"The important thing is Sirius is alive," said Dumbledore.  "Well done.  Other
opportunities to clear Sirius' name will come, now that we know the truth. 
Now, get inside.  I'll lock you in."  

Dumbledore had given us an airtight alibili for Black's escape, and Black
escaping drew the Minister's attention away from Buckbeak.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Prophecies represent a potential point of paradox.  Trelawney still predicted
Petigrew escaping, and that meant a time turner couldn't capture him.  Still,
this time around, Snape knows full well what's going on, and won't have to wait
until the end of fourth year to find out about Sirius' innocence. 
***** The Value of Time Travel *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 33) The Value of Time Travel
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *
We learned the next day that Professor Lupin had resigned. After transforming
and nearly killing us all, he was convinced he had no place in a school. We all
bade him a fond farewell and expressed our gratitude for all he'd taught us
this year.
At my urging, Sloth and I slipped away down into the lab once we'd said our
goodbyes to Lupin.
"Black was innocent and Petigrew escaped," I said. "I got my payback on the
dementors, but I'm still down one soul."
"You finally decided to take me up on my offer to use mine?" asked Sloth.
"No," I said. "I decided to just get my old one back."
"How?" asked Sloth.
"The answer's right here," I said, pointing to a blank wall in the lab. "Open
up an arch there. There's a room behind it."
Sloth clapped her hands and pressed them to the wall, revealing a small room
containing my petrified body. I handed her a bottle of Madrake draught I'd
taken off a shelf when she was transmuting.
"Wake him up once I'm gone," I instructed. I began turning my time turner over
and over again, carefully counting out the number I'd calculated. Hours in a
day, days in a month, months in a year. I stopped and felt myself pulled
backward.
I arrived on the Hogwarts Express and quickly pulled on my invisibility cloak.
I found my past self and silently observed. Finally, the moment came. The
dementor entered. Protected by my patronus pin, I watched my past self succumb.
Timing was essential. As the dementor leaned over my past self, I took a soul
coin and pressed it against past me's oroboros mark. Covertly, I pressed the
coin to present me's oroboros mark. I'd stolen my own soul before the dementor
could get it.
My primary mission accomplished, I hid on the train until we reached the
school. I slipped into the Chamber of Secrets and asked the basilisk a favor. A
future version of me appeared and at my request, the basilisk petrified him. It
was awkward carrying my petrified future self out to the Quidditch field under
my invisibility cloak, but I managed it.
I used alchemy to emulate Sloth's Ultimate Escape and entered the lab. I found
the wall, clapped my hands, and constructed the room we would find at the end
of the year. I carefully deposited my future self inside, then sealed of the
room. Then I gave my time turner one last spin, arriving in the Chamber of
Secrets to be petrified by Slytherin's basilisk.
The next thing I knew, I was being revived by Sloth at the end of the year.
"It worked," I told her. I then went into the details. As I hoped, she was
impressed.
                                     * * *
On the train ride back home, Hermione told us she was dropping Muggle Studies
and had turned in her time turner. I was baffled. She was doing well in all her
classes, and Sloth had gotten her on a more regular sleep schedule. I certainly
had no intention of ever returning mine.
News from Sirius came in the form of a letter. He'd made it out of the country,
and was planning to get spotted deliberately to ensure the Ministry wouldn't be
sending dementors to Hogwarts next year. He also included a note granting Harry
permission to visit Hogsmeade, on his authority as Harry's godfather.
Ron invited us to join his family to see the Quidditch World Cup this summer.
Luna and her father already had plans to go, and the rest of us gladly
accepted.
Just like last year, Harry elected to get his one night with the Dursleys out
of the way early. Due to the circumstances he'd fled under last year, Sloth
went with him to ensure his safety. Using her shapeshifting powers, Sloth
disguised herself as Hedwig, mostly so she could avoid talking to the members
of that household while she was protecting Harry. I used the real Hedwig to
send a letter to Remus Lupin, inviting him over to discuss employment
oportunities. Once the letter was off, I headed off to see a travel agent.
                                     * * *
Sloth and I had reverted to our default forms for the summer, and were seated
around the kitchen table with Harry working on our summer homework. Spellbooks,
rolls of parchment, and inkwells had the table completely covered. A knock came
at the front door.
Without close examination, none of the materials we had out were at all
indicative of witchcraft, so HArry went to answer the door. Sloth, Loki, and I
followed behind to see who it was.
"Professor Lupin?" said Harry surprised.
"Hello, Harry," replied Lupin. "It's good to see you again."
"I invited him," I said, shaking Lupin's hand. "Come in."
Lupin eyed Sloh and I for a moment before recognition dawned. "I knew the two
of you were shape shifters. So, would these be your real forms?"
"More like default ones," Sloth said. "Would you like some tea?"
"That would be wonderful, thank you," said Lupin, taking a seat in the living
room. "So, to answer Harrys' question, why am I here?"
"I want to hire you as a tutor for Harry over the summer," I said.
"Just for Harry?" Lupin asked.
"You know our powers are different from his," I said. "Besides, we can already
turn into animals."
"You mean become an animagus, like my dad?" asked Harry.
"If Professor Lupin will consent to teach," I said, accepting a tea cup from
Sloth.
"You are aware that it took your father until well into his fifth year before
he managed this, right, Harry?" said Lupin.
"He was working in secret and had to figure the process out without help from
someone who already knew how to do it," I countered. "I've got to figure a
qualified teacher makes this easier, not to mention safer."
"We're offering triple what Dumbledore paid you last year," added Sloth.
Lupin laughed. "I'm certainly in no position to turn down paying work, but I
left teaching at Hogwarts to avoid endangering students."
"But you're only dangerous on the full moon," argued Harry.
"Quadruple your Hogwarts salary," added Sloth.
"I did get benefits too," said Lupin slyly.
"You'll do it?" asked Harry happily.
"On condition that I am far away from you on the entire week around the full
moon," said Lupin. "I don't have Snape brewing my potion anymore, and I can't
risk another incident like last year."
"I've been thinking about that," I mused. "Harry, how do you feel about taking
a trip to Australia this summer?"
"Like those trips Hermione takes with her parents?" asked Harry, confused.
"More of a research trip," I said with a smirk. "Not to say we can't see the
sights while we're there."
"What's all this about?" asked Lupin. Even Sloth was staring at me confused.
"Do you two remember everything we learned about werewolves in second year?" I
asked Sloth and Harry.
"We didn't learn anything," said Harry, deadpan. "Lockheart was teaching."
"Exactly!" I said, and pulled a copy of Wandering with Werewolves by Gilderoy
Lockheart out of my bag. I opened it to my bookmark. "Lockheart says here that
he cured a werewolf in the town of Wagga Wagga. I checked in with a travel
agent and found out it was in Australia."
Lupin's eye twitched at the sight of the book with Lockheart's picture winking
from the cover. Sloth and Harry both rolled their eyes.
"This is a joke," said Lupin. "You took classes with Gilderoy Lockheart. You
have to have realized you can't trust anything in his books. The man was an
absolute fraud."
"He was," confirmed Sloth, looking at me like I'd gone crazy.
"Guys, come on," I prodded. "Yes, Lockheart was a fraud, but don't you remember
what else we learned about him?"
"Why don't you just tell us," said Harry, now somewhat irritated.
"He didn't make up his stories," I said in exasperation. "He told us that he
tracked down witches and wizards who'd done things, got them to tell him about
it, then used a memory charm to make them think he'd done it."
"Which means," said Harry, working it the rest of the way out, "there's an ugly
Armenian warlock out there who really did cure a werewolf."
                                     * * *
Lupin began teaching Harry what he'd need to know about the animagus
transformation process while I secured the travel papers we'd need. Sloth and I
didn't officially exist, the Dursleys were Harry's legal guardians, and I
doubted Lupin had been in any muggle database since he was eleven. It wasn't
long before I stopped feeling even slightly guilty about all the officials I
was bribing.
Trying to go through the magical world would have been harder than the week
long trek through muggle Britain's red tape. Sloth and I only existed as far as
the Ministry of Magic was concerned because of Dumbledore's say so and the
vague hope no one would question our story. And I didn't want to think of the
uproar that would come if they got wind that the Boy Who Lived was being taken
out of the country accompanied by a werewolf.
"We're not going to miss the World Cup, are we?" asked Harry while we waited in
the airport. Loki was on a leash and curled up at my feet and Hedwig's cage was
covered and occupying a seat next to Harry.
"Our return tickets are for two weeks before the cup," I said. "I made sure
we'd be okay even if there was a delay."
"It's been a while since we rode in one of these, hasn't it, Greed?" said
Sloth, kicking her feet back and forth as they dangled off her chair.
"You've been on one of these before?" asked Lupin. "I've read about them in
Muggle Studies. They never struck me as all that reliable."
"You don't have anything to worry about," said Harry.
"Hm," said Lupin. "You know, when I first read Lockheart's book, I was furious.
The idea that he'd just waved his wand and done some sort of charm and it was
cured painted us all like we must want to be like this. Like if we didn't want
to be murderous monsters, we'd have popped on by and got ourselves cured.
"But now that I know what he said with you, I think I'm actually angrier. If he
really did obliviate someone who'd figured out the cure, then that makes him
personally responsible for everything that came after."
                                     * * *
Lupin continued Harry's animagus training while we traveled. The airplane trip
lost its novelty about an hour into the flight. I'd paid for all of the first
class seats on our flight so we'd have the section of the plane for ourselves
and thus could speak freely. As expected, the process was both complicated and
time consuming, involving advanced transfiguration concepts that were
technically NEWT level.
Harry responded well to focused, goal-oriented instruction. Just like with the
polyjuice potion and the patronus charm, having a concrete objective helped
Harry stay on task. Once he decided something was worth learning, Harry tended
to pick things up quickly even if they were well beyond his grade level.
Harry and Lupin stayed in the hotel while Sloth, Loki, and I talked to people
in Wagga Wagga. It wasn't hard to identify the wizard population living among
the muggles of the city, though it looked as though Lockheart had been thorough
in covering his tracks. I doubted there was a single witch or wizard in the
city that wasn't under a memory charm. They all repeated the same story,
verbatim, about Lockheart curing the werewolf. Even the former werewolf himself
repeated it when we tracked him down.
"No one remembers the truth," said Sloth, plopping down on the hotel bed after
another day of investigation. "I really thought we'd be able to get somewhere
when we found the Armenian warlock, but he doesn't remember any more than the
rest."
"Everything I've read about memory charms says breaking through them actually
does more damage to the person than wiping their memory did," I said,
exasperated as I plopped down beside her.
I took my time turner out from under my shirt and dangled it above my head. I
stared wistfully at the enchanted hourglass and said, "I could go back to
before Lockheart modified their memories, but that was years and years ago. And
there's no convenient basilisk for my trip back."
Sloth sat up and asked, "What about a draught of living death? You could use
that on yourself and we could give you the antidote just like the mandrake
draught."
"I can't brew the draught of living death," I said, "and Lupin's mentioned he
was never good with potions."
"So we'll buy a finished potion," said Sloth. "There must be someone in town
who can brew it."
                                     * * *
"This sounds incredibly risky," said Lupin when I'd explained the plan to him.
"Past about five hours, time travel gets very dangerous. Besides which, you
were given that to let you get to your classes on time and nothing else. The
trouble you'd be in if the Ministry found out..."
"We're outside the British Ministry's jurisdiction," I said. "I've taken long
trips before, and I think I know what makes them risky. Besides, this is
important."
After selecting a landmark outside of town, I put the draught of living death
in my bag and started rotating my time turner. While in the past, I had to
tread with care, otherwise, the nearest paradox free arrival point might end up
being in the mouth of an active volcano.
My experiments with the time turner really paid off, and I was deposited right
outside the door of the man I'd come to speak to. I supposed history wanted me
to get on with my business and then get back to my proper time. I wasn't going
to argue.
It took some persuading to get the man to share the results of his research
with me, but I knew he'd talked to Lockheart, so I just had to be patient,
present myself as the fellow researcher I was, and he eventually gave in to
temptation. The charm he'd designed was unique to this application, and it was
far more complicated and impressive than Lockheart's account had indicted. The
charm itself required the wizard's wand to be in contact with the werewolf, and
timing was absolutely essential. His notes suggested that the charm could only
work at the absolute darkest moment of a total lunar eclipse.
I took copious notes and repeated my assurances I had no intention of stealing
credit for his research. I didn't say so, but I intended to hand him a copy of
the notes I took as soon as I woke back up in the present. After making sure
I'd found the right landmark, I stomped my foot and transmuted myself a tomb. I
laid everything out, sealed myself in, and imbibed the draught of living death.
Sunlight was filtering into the tomb when I awoke with Sloth holding the
antidote bottle to my lips. Harry and Lupin were watching anxiously. I shook
off the dust and cobwebs that had gathered while I slept and got to my feet.
"I have the information!" I said, retrieving a thick notebook. "We need to drop
off a copy with the inventor who's memory Lockheart erased. He deserves both to
know about his own life's work, and to be properly acknowledge for his
discovery."
                                     * * *
We spent the remainder of our time in Australia seeing the sights while Harry
continued with his animagus training. Finally, the day before we were to board
our plane back to England, Lupin called Sloth and I in to see the results.
Harry was grinning ear to ear as he stood in the middle of the room with his
arms outstretched. In a motion almost too quick for the eye to see, Harry
vanished, to be replaced by a raven with black features, the same color as
Harry's hair, a thin fringe of white feathers where his famous lightning bolt
scar would be on his human body, and green eyes.
Harry flapped his wings and flew a few laps around the room before landing back
in the center and resuming human form.
"You did it!" said Sloth, hugging Harry.
"Congratulations!" I said, patting him on the back.
Harry had used my recording device throughout his lessons with Professor Lupin.
That combined with the notes Harry took meant we could pass on the same
training to the others once we were back at Hogwarts. Which was good. Everyone
had mastered parseltongue, and we could sue something new to fill the gap.
Professor Lupin bid us farewell once we got off the plan back in England, and
the rest of us returned to Privet Drive. We pulled in to our driveway just in
time to see something fly out of an upstairs window of the Dursley house and
shatter to pieces on the street below.
"I'll go and see," offered Harry, who turned into a bird and flew up to the
open window to observe. A few minutes later, he fluttered back down, resumed
human form, and fell over laughing.
"They put Dudley on a diet," explained Harry when he could breathe again. "His
school sent him home with a note from the nurse. I saw it when I was there at
the start of the summer. I didn't think the Dursleys could bring themselves to
discipline Dudley, but it looks like that's what happened."
"They're throwing things at him?" I said, drawing my wand and turning toward
the Dursleys' front door.
"No!" called Harry, stopping me. Dudley got so mad when they threatened to cut
his pocket money if he kept hiding doughnuts that he threw his playstation out
the window."
I'd learned a bit about computers in Muggle Studies, and still more doing my
own research at the library on summer breaks. I swept up the chunks of damaged
electronics and brought them inside. With the drapes safely drawn, I clapped my
hands and repaired the video game console with alchemy. Testing my handiwork, I
hooked it up to our television and launched the game that had been inside when
it broke. Soon, the three of us were taking turns fighting each other in
Dudley's game.
                                     * * *
Author's comments:
There wouldn't be much point to including time turners if they weren't going to
be of any value at all. As we've established the devices only work on closed
time loops, there are limitations on where they can be useful, but even a
limited tool is incredibly valuable in the right situation.
***** The Quidditch World Cup *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 34) The Quidditch World Cup
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Some time later, Harry awoke in the middle of the night.  Sloth and I were
jolted awake ourselves by the beeping of the motion detectors in Harry's room. 
Due to the fact that the restless shade of Lord Voldemort kept trying to kill
Harry, we'd installed one of the best muggle security systems money could buy. 
A bank of monitors showed every room in the house, and allowed us to verify at
a glance that Harry'd set them off when he got out of bed, and that there were
no intruders.  

Harry was staring at the lightning bolt scar on his fore head in the bathroom
mirror.  Sloth and I got up and went upstairs to check on him.  

"Is everything okay, Harry?" asked Sloth.  

"My scar hurts," he said.  "I had a dream about Wormtail and Voldemort.  They'd
killed someone and they were planning to kill me.  I woke up and my scar was
burning just like it did in first year when he was nearby."  

Sloth and I glanced at one another, then I said, "You can tell us all the
details once we're safely next door."  

"Next door?" asked Harry.  

"Behind the blood wards," I insisted.  "That's half the reason we're living
next door.  If Voldemort's close, we don't have any time to lose."  

We soundlessly slipped into the Dursleys' living room together.  I manned the
windows, watching next door to see if there was any sign of an intruder that
our alarms and cameras had missed.  Meanwhile, Sloth encouraged Harry to
recount his dream as best he could recall it.  

Harry was plainly embarrassed that we'd fled the house over him having a bad
dream, but Sloth pointed out that Harry was plainly connected to Voldemort
through that scar.  He'd gained the power to speak parseltongue through it, and
it had detected Voldemort's presence before.  Even Dumbledore could only
speculate on the nature of that connection, but its presence was undeniable. 
Maybe the dream was nothing, or maybe it contained an important clue.  

So, Harry recounted.  Voldemort and Peter Petigrew had been in an old house. 
They were talking about having killed someone.  Petirew was apparently nursing
Voldemort, involving regular feedings derived form milking a snake.  Voldemort
was plotting to kill Harry, while Petigrew suggested a different target. 
Voldemort had insisted it be Harry and cowed Petigrew.  They mentioned their
plan would have to wait until after the Quidditch World Cup, since the
additional security would be a problem for them.  They were about to speak
about a third conspirator, when an old man dressed like a muggle was detected
eavesdropping by Voldemort's snake.  Harry woke up just as Voldemort turned
around and couldn't recall what Voldemort looked like.  

"Okay," said Sloth.  "Hopefully that means he's miles away plotting.  We'll
stay here until daybreak just in case.  The you should send Hedwig out with a
letter to Dumbledore.  He has more resources than we do to investigate this."  

"I feel stupid writing Dumbledore every time I get a headache," complained
Harry.  

"He'd want you to," countered Sloth.  "You remember how fast he found you when
you moved in with us."  

At that moment, Vernon Dursley came down the stairs and saw Harry, Sloth, Loki,
Hedwig, and I gathered in his living room.  His face turned purple with fury
and a vein was visible throbbing at his temple.  

"What are you doing back here?!" shouted Vernon.  Dudley and Petunia came down
the stairs to see what the shouting was about.  

"You agreed to this," Sloth pointed out.  "We take Harry in and in return, he
stays here one night a year, plus we can retreat here if there's danger."  

Vernon's mustache bristled as his temper rose higher.  "I won't be lectured
about my own agreement by a child!"  

Loki positioned himself protectively between Vernon and Sloth and growled low. 
Blue light poured from beneath the dog's fur as his body grew.  Green scales
armored his thickly muscled form.  Claws sharp enough to gouge stone dug into
the Dursleys' floor, and his club like, reptilian tail swung in anticipation,
smashing a coffee table.  I placed a hand on his golden mane when his
transformation completed.  

"You should really watch your tone," I told Vernon evenly.  "You and I know
you're all bluster, but Loki here just sees someone yelling at his girl and he
gets protective.  You know how dogs are."  

My touch kept Loki from crushing Vernon's skull with his powerful jaws, but the
chimera's eyes never stopped tracking Vernon.  Loki's tail continued to slowly
drift from side to side so he'd be ready to pounce should the need arise.  

"What's happened?" asked Petunia, far more politely.  

"I think it was a false alarm," said Harry, his gaze shifting between the
morning sunlight pouring through the window and the small glass top, his pocket
sneakoscope, sitting quiet and still in his hand.  

"We'll be back if there's more trouble," said Sloth over her shoulder as our
party headed back next door.  

Hedwig departed that afternoon, carrying letters to Dumbledore and Sirius. 
Harry'd been corresponding regularly with Sirius all summer, keeping him up to
date about his life and wishing his godfather well.  I'd sent Sirius one of my
patronus pins with the first letter for some extra protection from the
dementors who were still hunting him.  

                                     * * *


The Weasleys arrived to pick us up for the Quidditch World Cup the next day. 
Sloth and I adopted the appearance of fourteen year olds we planned to use at
Hogwarts that year a few hours before they came.  Shockingly, Arthur Weasley
arrived by floo powder, despite me previously confirming that the fireplace at
this house wasn't connected to the floo network.  It turned out a friend of his
at the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Transportation arranged to
have our house temporarily hooked up to the floo network just for this trip.  

"I was hoping I'd be able to meet your father before I left," said Arthur
Weasley, looking around while Ron, Fred, and George helped get our trunks to
the fireplace.  "Minister Fudge mentioned running into him last year."  

I couldn't tell him the three of us were living here on our own and that I'd
been the one to talk to the Minister in my adult form.  I shot a pleading look
toward Sloth and Harry while I tried to come up with a story.  

"Well,... you see,... he wanted to be here,... but something came up at work,"
I said vaguely.  While I squirmed, Harry, Sloth, and Ron quickly consulted with
Fred and George.  

"Oh, I see," said Arthur, giving no sign he'd noticed my hesitation.  "What is
it he does?  Do you live alone with him, or is there-"  

Mr. Weasley's attention was drawn suddenly by a loud gagging noise.  Sloth was
holding her throat, and something that looked remarkably like a large tongue
was sticking out of her mouth.  I could see a wrapper of some sort clutched
between her fingers.  

"Not to worry!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley, rushing to Sloth's side.  "I can sort
this out!"  He pulled out his wand and spoke an incantation as Sloth's tongue
began to shrink back down to its previous size.  Once Sloth was sorted out, he
rounded on the twins.  "That wasn't funny!"  

"Actually, it kinda was," said Sloth, laughing now that she was no longer
choking.  "Don't be mad.  I asked them what they'd been doing all summer, and
they gave me that candy.  What was that?"  

"Ton Tongue Toffee," said Fred brightly.  "George and I invented them, and
we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer."  

"Well, there seems to be no harm done," said Arthur, calming down.  "Don't let
your mother catch you with those.  You know how she feels about this Weasleys
Wizard Wheezzes stuff."  

"Your formula needs a little more work," said Sloth.  "At least if you want a
bit of harmless fun instead of someone choking to death."  

"We tested them out on ourselves first," said George.  "Didn't notice the
initial swelling as being that bad.  Shouldn't be too hard to tweak now that we
know the problem."  

"Enough of that," said Arthur, tossing a pinch of floo powder in the fire.  "We
need to get moving."  

One trip through the floo network later, and we arrived  in the Weasley
kitchen.  The older Weasley siblings, Bill and Charlie, whom I hadn't met but
had heard plenty about, were seated at the kitchen table.  They offered
friendly greetings before Hermione, Ginny, and Neville came in.  We got
straight to taking our trunks upstairs.  I wold be sleeping in Ron's room with
him, Harry, Neville, and the twins.  Hammocks had been strung up to make use of
the cramped space.  

nce we were safely away from adult ears, Fred put a hand around my shoulder and
asked, "So, do you mind telling me why I had to cause that distraction back
there?"  

"We were lucky dad didn't say anything to mum about it," added George, putting
his arm around me from the other side.  

"It'd be bad for Harry if anyone else finds out," I said.  "Not great for me
and Sloth, but really bad for Harry."  

"Your secret's safe with us," said Fred.  

"Or it will be once we know what it is," added George.  

I nodded.  "Neither Sloth, nor I have any parents.  We've been living on our
own together since coming to England.  Before that, even.  The Minister of
Magic never met my father.  He met me in disguise when I went to reverse some
accidental magic on one of Harry's relatives."  

"You Ravenclaws are smart," said Fred, amused.  "I can't believe we never
thought of faking our ages to sort out those Ministry notices."  

"Wouldn't have worked," said George.  "They know what dad looks like.  And
polyjuice would be a bit far to go to sort those out.  Greed didn't need any
more than an ageing potion."  

"You won't say anything, will you?" asked Sloth.  

"And have Harry go back to those muggles?  Fat chance of that," said George.  

Ratcatcher, the winged serpent Ron had made at the end of last year was sunning
himself in the window sill.  The cauldron Ron had been using in his Daily
Prophet photo was sitting in a corner filled with gold coins.  A notebook in
with his schoolbooks had some text encoded with an alchemic cypher visible. 
He'd done some reviewing over the summer.  

We learned that Percy had entered the Ministry of Magic and was very impressed
by his boss, Barty Crouch, the head of the Department of International Magical
Cooperation.  Fred and George, unsurprisingly, had no interest in following in
Percy's footsteps.  Instead, they wanted to open a joke shop.  Mrs. Weasley
didn't approve.  She was also upset with them for their poor performance on the
OWLs.  

Once the twins left, the conversation shifted over to parseltongue, and Harry
filled the others in on Sirius' correspondences, and explained about our trip
to Australia with Lupin.  Hermione was torn about me using my time turner to
retrieve a potential cure for lycanthropy.  Her opinion on Harry learning to be
an animagus was less conflicted.  

"That's really advanced transfiguration, isn't it?" said Hermione.  "I wish I'd
been able to learn it."  

Harry took out his notes and the recorder, saying, "We thought you'd say that. 
All the instructions are in here.  We're done with parseltongue and occlumency
after all."  

"Have you registered with the Ministry yet?" asked Hermione.  

"Why would Harry want to do that?" asked Ron.  "Sirius only got out of Azkaban
and managed to go into hiding because he wasn't registered."  

"It's the law,Ron," said Hermione.  "If Harry gets caught, it won't be a
detention.  They'll send him to Azkaban."  

"Tom's going to come after Harry again sooner or later," said Neville quietly. 
"When he does, Harry could do with having a trick no one knows about to fall
back on."  

"If that dream means anything, he might need that trick sooner rather than
later," I said, considering.  

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you, Hermione?" asked Harry.  

"Of course not," she replied quickly.  "I still think you should want to
register."  

"If you hide it, that does mean you can't use it nearly as often," noted
Ginny.  "No turning into a bird for a quick flight around the castle to clear
your head."  

"And it does grate, not being able to use your powers casually," said Sloth. 
"I can't count the number of times I've had to deliberately let myself get
bumped into in the hall between classes."  

"That's a good point," said Harry, "but I think I'm still with Ron and Neville
on this one."  

"Well, I'm going to register," said Hermione.  

"Won't that make it pretty obvious the rest of us are too?" asked Ron.  

"No," said Harry.  "Hermione's way smarter than us and everyone knows it.  Once
she registers, everyone'll assume we would have registered too if we could do
it."  

That settled, we went downstairs to see if Mrs. Weasley needed any help getting
dinner ready.  She quickly set us to work setting the tables out in the garden,
which went quickly once Bill and Charlie stopped hovering the and smashing them
into one another.  

At dinner, Percy talked everyone's ear off about his work with the Ministry. 
Apparently, everyone was putting in overtime arranging the World Cup.  I
glanced meaningfully at the others when he mentioned a member of  the
Department of Magical Games and Sports going missing on holiday in Albania. 
Dumbledore had mentioned sources indicating that was where Voldemort's shade
was hiding.  The Ministry was also organizing another event after the World
Cup, but apparently Percy couldn't talk about it except to repeatedly remind us
that he knew but couldn't talk about it.  

I sent Loki to sleep with Sloth in Ginny's room that night to help with the
crowding situation in Ron's room.  It was collectively agreed that Neville was
to sleep at ground level so we could avoid trouble with him trying to climb in
or out of a hammock.  

                                     * * *


The next morning was surprisingly less hectic than I was expecting.  Everyone
was roused before sunrise, though Charlie, Bill and Percy were left to sleep
in.  Apparently, the three of them would be joining us by apparition later in
the day.  Mrs. Weasley, who wasn't planning to attend the game, offered to keep
an eye on all the pets while we were away.  

Mr. Weasley had us all change into muggle clothes, since the World Cup was
technically happening in a moor that wasn't magically concealed like Hogsmeade
and Diagon Alley were.  Once we were appropriately attired, he led us in a long
hike that left the humans winded and sweating.  Sloth and I faked fatigue for
the benefit of the twins and Mr. Weasley, who didn't know we weren't human.  

Mr. Weasley explained as we went that we would be traveling by portkey. 
Portkeys were apparently random objects, usually bits of litter to make them
inconspicuous, that had been enchanted to magically transport as many people as
could touch it at once to a predetermined location.  The Ministry of Magic had
prepared a large number of portkeys to get people from all across magical
Britain to the site of the World Cup.  

On arrival, Mr. Weasley started to get us spread out and searching for the
portkey when a voice called out, "Over here, Arthur!  Over here, son!  We've
got it!"  

We approached the figures, and Mr. Weasley greeted the man who'd called. 
"Amos!  This is Amos Diggory, everyone.  He works for the Department for the
Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.  And I think you know his son
Cedric."  

"He's the Hufflepuff seeker," said Sloth, greeting the seventh year happily.  

"Long walk, Arthur?" asked Amos.  

"Not too bad," said Arthur.  "We live just in the village there.  You?"  

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced?" replied Amos.  "I tell you, I'll be
glad when he's got his apparition test.  Still, not complaining.  Quidditch
World Cup.  Wouldn't miss it for a sack full of galleons, and the tickets cost
about that.  Mind you, it looks like your lucky you've got an alchemist for a
son.  Those all yours?"  

"Oh, no.  Only the redheads," explained Mr. Weasley, who proceeded to introduce
the rest of us.  

"Merlin's beard," exclaimed Mr. Diggory.  "Harry?  Harry Potter?"  

"Er, yeah," said Harry, uncomfortably.  

"Ced's talked about laying against you last year.  I said to him, I said, 'Ced,
that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will.  You beat Harry
Potter.'"  

"Harry fell off his broom, dad," said Cedric, looking almost as uncomfortable
as Harry was.  "I told you.  It was an accident."  

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" insisted Mr. Diggory, giving his son a
pat on the back.  

"It wasn't an accident," I said darkly.  "Harry was attacked and nearly killed
by dementors."  

"Mr. Diggory," interjected Sloth, "did your department get our house elf
petition?"  

"Indeed we did," said Amos genially accepting the change of subject.  "If
things at the Ministry weren't so all hands on deck, I imagine I'd hear about
little else at the office.  We usually don't get much attention in the
Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.  Then we get
your petition with enough gold on offer to fund six full time house elf
investigators.  Expensive and time consuming work, you know, on account of the
fact that abusive owners can just order them not to talk.  Looked like the
biggest windfall our department would ever see.  Then, very next day, the
Minister comes in with a counter offer from Lucius Malfoy.  Double the
additional funding, and no strings attached on how we use it."  

"He's trying to outbid me?" declared Ron incredulously.  "We can match any
counteroffer Lucius Malfoy wants to make.  We'll offer every knut of funding he
offered you in addition to the six fully funded house elf investigators, and if
you get another counteroffer, send me an owl and I'll match that too."  

"We're a minute off," said Mr. Weasley.  "We'd better get ready.  You just need
to touch the portkey, that's all.  A finger will do."  

We crowded around, jostling one another, until we were all touching the old
boot that Mr. Diggory was holding.  Mr. Weasley stared at his watch and
provided a countdown.  Then, a sensation of being pulled forward suddenly by my
guts came, accompanied by a rush of wind and color.  Any fear I had of losing
contact with the portkey midfight was assuaged by the fact that my fingertip
felt as though it were glued to the boot.  Then, a moment later, just long
enough to process the motion, our party was dumped on the ground in an
unfamiliar location, and a wizard called out, "Seven past five from Stoatshead
Hill."  

As our party got to our feet, Arthur Weasley chatted with the wizards.  They
explained where to find our campsite, and sent the Diggories off toward
theirs.  The manager of our campsite was named Mr. Roberts.  On arriving, Mr.
Weasley turned to Harry for help with the muggle money.  

"You foreign?" asked Mr. Roberts.  

"Foreign?" asked Mr. Weasley.  

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," Roberts added.  "I had
two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."
 

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley, twisting his hands together.  

"Never been this crowded," said Roberts.  "Hundreds of pre-bookings.  People
usually just turn up."  

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley.  

"Aye," said Roberts, suspiciously.  "People from all over.  Loads of
foreigners.  And not just foreigners.  Weirdos, you know?  There's a bloke
walking around in a kilt and a poncho."  

"Shouldn't he?" asked Arthur, growing more nervous.  

"It's like some sort of, I don't know, like some sort of rally," continued
Roberts.  "They all seem to know each other, like a big party."  

Without warning, a wizard appeared out of thin air and barked, "Obliviate!"
with his wand pointed at Roberts.  Harry and Ron gripped my shoulders, while
Hermione and Neville did the same to Sloth.  The two of us allowed ourselves to
be restrained.  

Roberts handed Mr. Weasley his change.  The wizard walked with us away from
Roberts, and when we were out of earshot said, "Been having a lot of trouble
with him.  Needs a memory charm ten times a day to keep him happy.  And Ludo
Bagman's not helping.  Trotting around talking about bludgers and quaffles at
the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-muggle security.  Blimey, I'll be
glad when this is over.  See you later, Arthur."  Then the wizard disapparated
with a pop.  

"Why don't they just tell Roberts what's going on and ask him to keep it
secret?" I asked, drawing on my occlumency training to keep the anger out of my
voice.  

"That would make things simpler on the oblivators," said Mr. Weasley, "but
monitoring him to make sure he kept that promise would be a job."  

"It's just hard to take," I said.  "He's getting his mind wiped over and over
again because he's smart enough to notice something's strange."  

"Well, he wouldn't need to be that smart," said Harry dryly as we crested a
hill and got a look at the campsite.  The tents the wizards had laid out were
plainly impossible without magic.  The least suspicious ones had chimneys.  On
the other end of the spectrum was a three story monstrosity with turrets.  

"Always the same," said Arthur Weasley, smiling and shaking his head.  "We
can't resist showing off when we get together.  Ah, here we are.  Look, this is
us.  Couldn't have a better spot.  The field is just on the other side of the
wood, there.  We're as close as we could be."  

Mr. Weasley pulled a disassembled tent out of his backpack and said, "Right. 
No magic allowed, strictly speaking.  Not when we're out in these numbers on
muggle land.  We'll be putting these tents up by hand.  Shouldn't be too
difficult.  Muggles do it all the time.  Here, Harry.  Where do you reckon we
should start?"  

As it turned out, I had  the most camping experience among our party, and ended
up directing the erection of the pair of tents Mr. Weasley had brought.  While
we worked, I talked with Mr. Weasley about memory charms.  He explained there
were rules about what you could and couldn't erase.  His recently passed muggle
protection act ensured that you couldn't obliviate away enough of their memory
to leave them a different person, or cover up crimes using memory charms.  In
fact, the only legal use of memory charms on muggles was to conceal the
existence of magic from them.  I still wasn't particularly happy about it, but
I was sufficiently placated to avoid letting it ruin my trip.  

My mind off memory charms, I noticed that we were somehow supposed to fit over
a dozen people into two small tents without magic.  It turned out there was a
bit of a cheat in that regard.  The inside of the tents were bigger than the
outside.  Each tent contained a three room apartment with a bathroom and
kitchen.  The bedrooms contained four sets of bunk beds.  It would be mildly
cramped, but not literally stacked to the top like firewood that it would have
been without the undetectable extension charms.  

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sent off to fetch water while the rest of us
gathered firewood from the nearby forest.  Despite the thousands of campers
from hundreds of countries, the easy to collect deadwood wasn't picked clean. 
Apparently, the rest of them were less inclined to inconvenience themselves for
the sake of the international statute of secrecy.  Once we retrieved the wood,
I helped Mr. Weasley get the camp fire going.  

While we sat around the fire, Mr. Weasley pointed out the Ministry witches and
wizards who were passing by.  A man who Arthur identified as an unspeakable did
a double take after glancing at our party.  For comfort, I'd reverted to my
standard homunculus outfit with the black half-vest that showed off the
oroboros mark in the center of my chest. The unspeakable was staring right at
my mark.  It took me a long moment before I recognized him as one of the men
I'd gotten into a fight with shortly after arriving in this world.  

His eyes flitted between me and Sloth, narrowing as he convinced himself we
were the same people he discovered in the deepest, most top secret level of the
Ministry of Magic. I moved to stand, but just as suddenly, he turned and
hurried away.  

"What was that about?" asked Fred.  

"No idea," said Arthur.  

"Explain later?" hissed Neville quickly in parseltongue, concealing the sound
amid the crackling of the fire.  I nodded imperceptibly in response.  

Harry and the others arrived back, and Bill, Charlie, and Percy apparated in to
join us.  Sausage and eggs had been cooked up over the fire.  As we ate, a
wizard in yellow and black Quidditch robes wandered near our camp, and Arthur
Weasley greeted him.  

"Aha!  The man of the moment!  Ludo!"  

"Ahoy there!" called Ludo in response.  "Arthur, old boy, what a day, eh?  What
a day!  Could we have asked for more perfect weather?  A cloudless night
coming, and hardly a hiccup in the arrangements!  Not much for me to do!"  

Percy extended a hand in greeting.  Arthur introduced us all, then said,
"Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman.  You know who he is.  It's thanks to him we've
got such good tickets."

Bagman smiled and waved off Arthur's gratitude, and said, "Fancy a flitter on
the match, Arthur?  I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will
score first.  I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are
the strongest I've seen in years.  And little Agatha Timms has put up half
shares in her eel farm on a week long match."  

"Oh, go on, then," said Mr. Weasley.  "Let's see, a galleon on Ireland to win?"
 

"A galleon?" asked Bagman, unsure he'd heard right.  Ron's alchemy training had
improved the family's financial situation, but the habits of their previous
poverty died hard. Bagman shrugged.  "Very well.  Very well.  Any other
takers?"  

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Arthur.  "A bit pointless in "Ron's
case.  And besides, Molly wouldn't like-"  

"We'll bet thirty seven galleons, fifteen sickles, three knuts that Ireland
wins, but Viktor Krum gets the snitch.  Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."  

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that-" started Percy.  

"Excellent," interrupted Bagman.  "I haven't seen one that convincing in
years!  I'd pay five galleons for it!"  He jovially waved around the rubber
chicken the wand had turned into.  

"Boys," said Arthur, "I don't want you betting.  That's all your savings.  Your
mother-"  

"Don't be a spoilsport!" declared Bagman as he rushed to take down the bet. 
"They're old enough to know what they want!  You reckon Ireland will win but
Krum'll get the snitch.  Not a chance, boys.  Not a chance.  I'll give you
excellent odds on that one.  We'll add five galleons for the funny wand, then,
shall we."  

"They probably expect me to reimburse them if they lose," noted Ron.  

"You've got it backward, baby brother," said Fred cheerfully.  "We're on our
way to making our own fortune."  

"We can't just coast by on the family money forever," added George.  

Bagman turned back to Mr. Weasley and asked, "Couldn't do me a brew, I
suppose?  I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch.  My Bulgarian opposite
number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. 
Barty'll be able to sort it out.  He speaks about a hundred and fifty
languages."  

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy.  "He speaks over two hundred.  Mermish, and
Gobblegook, and Troll-"  

"Anyone can speak troll," said Fred.  "All you have to do is pint and grunt."  

"Probably parseltongue too," hissed Harry quietly.  

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" asked Arthur while Percy put some water
on to boil.  

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman unconcernedly, "but she'll turn up.  Poor old
Bertha, memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction.  Lost, you take
my word for it.  She'll wander back into the office sometime in October
thinking it's still July."  

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" asked
Arthur.  

Bagman accepted his tea from Percy and said, "Barty Crouch keeps saying that,
but we really can't spare anyone at the moment.  Oh, talk of the devil! 
Barty!  Pull up a bit of grass, Barty."  

Barty Crouch had short grey hair and a mustache that must take considerable
effort to trim as straight as it was.  He wore a tailored business suit with
shined black shoes.  While most of the wizards here displayed only a passing
familiarity with muggle dress, this outfit was right out of my muggle studies
textbook.  And still absolutely wrong, since no one dresses like that for
camping.  

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch stiffly.  "I've been looking for you
everywhere.  The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the
top box."  

"Oh, is that what they're after?" asked Bagman.  "I thought the chap was asking
to borrow a pair of tweezers.  Bit of a strong accent."  

"Mr. Crouch, would you like a cup of tea?" offered Percy.  

"Oh, yes, thank you Weatherby," said Mr. Crouch.  

"Weasley," I said.  

"What?" asked Crouch.  Percy stared horrified that I'd corrected his boss.  

"Percy's name," I said, pressing on.  "It's Weasley, not Weatherby."  

"Really?" asked Crouch, looking to Percy for confirmation.  

"It's fine," said Percy placatingly.  "With everything else you have to do, it
really isn't important."  

"Oh, that reminds me, I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said
Crouch.  "Ali Bashir's on the warpath.  He wants a word with you about your
embargo on flying carpets."  

Arthur Weasley and Barty Crouch discussed the flying carpet embargo for a
while.  Eventually, Ludo Bagman entered the conversation and attempted to
change the subject to the event being planned at Hogwarts this year.  Crouch
prevented any actual information from being revealed and dragged Bagman off to
sort things out with the Bulgarians.  

                                     * * *


As the day wore on, the displays of magic from the gathered wizards grew more
and more obvious.  Souvenir vendors apparated in and out of clusters of
people.  Most of what was on offer were cheep novelty items, but Harry managed
to zero in on a vendor selling pairs of brass binoculars covered in dials,
knobs, and controls.  They were called Omnioculars, and not only allowed you to
zoom in and out, but offered record, playback, slow motion, and even play-by-
play breakdowns of the action.  Each member of our party went to the stadium
with a pair around our necks.  

The stadium was massive.  With seating for a hundred thousand, I doubted it was
actually made of gold, but it was a convincing illusion.  Deep purple carpeting
was laid out on the floors.  Our tickets were for the top box, right at the
stadium's center line.  In the box, we had a terrific view, and individual gold
chairs with purple upholstery.  When we arrived, the only person present was a
house elf.  

"Dobby?" asked Harry.  

The elf turned and moved its hands away from its face, revealing that it wasn't
the Malfoys' former house elf.  "Did sir just call me Dobby?" it asked in a
high voice that we'd verified last year was an indication of gender.  This one
was female while Dobby had been male.  

"Sorry," said Harry.  "I just thought you were someone I knew."  

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" she said excitedly.  "My name is Winky, sir.  And
you sir, you is surely Harry Potter!"  

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.  

"But Dobby talks about you all the time, sir!" said Winky.  

"So, do you work at Hogwarts with him?" he asked.  

Winky shook her head so her ears flapped and said, "Dobby is seeing Winky,
sir...  He is visiting on his..." she lowered her voice scandalously, "days
off, sir."  

"Good," said Harry.  "I'm glad he's getting out and having some fun on his time
off."  

"House elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky.  "House
elves does what they is told.  I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter,
but my master sends me to the top box and I comes, sir."  

"Why's he sent you up here if he knows you don't like heights?" asked Harry.  

"Master," began Winky, "master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter.  He
is very busy.  Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but
Winky does what she is told.  Winky is a good house elf."  

She hid her face in her hands once more so she wouldn't have to look out over
the ledge.  I took a scrap of parchment from my pocket and set it on the floor
in front of Winky, then turned it into a short, opaque screen to keep her from
seeing the edge if she peeked.  

"That's a willful violation on the restriction on underage wizardry!" blustered
Percy.  "Just because there's so much magic going on the trace won't know it
was you doesn't give you free license to break the rules!"  

"You could've done it," I shot back.  The truth was, I'd forgotten all about
that rule, but it wouldn't do any good admitting it.  Nor would it help
anything to explain my powers didn't set off the trace normally.  "She's
terrified.  You expect me to ignore that when I can help?"  

"That's not the point," said Percy imperiously.  "Important members of the
Ministry will be up here, and if you pull something like that in front of them,
you'll be in real trouble!  You'll be lucky if all you get is expelled and your
wand snapped!"  

"Don't worry Percy," said Fred.  "We can give him one of our old warning
letters when we get home."  

"I'm sure we've got them in a box somewhere," added George.  

"That was a kind thing to do," said Arthur, mediating, "but Percy's right. 
Underage magic is underage magic.  Next time, just ask one of us to do it,
okay?"  

I nodded.  

"A display from the team mascots will precede the match," read Hermione loudly
from her program to change the subject.  

"Oh, that's always worth watching," said Arthur, happily, his mind now back on
the festivities.  "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you
know, to put on a bit of a show."  

Over the next half hour, people filled the box.  Minister Fudge introduced the
Bulgarian Minister and his entourage.  Lucius Malfoy, his wife Narcissa, and
their son Draco were also in the box with us.  There was some posturing, but it
was cut short with the arrival of Ludo Bagman.  After checking in quickly with
Fudge, Bagman pointed his wand at his throat, cast, "Sonorus!" and welcomed
everyone to the world cup in a voice that thundered across the stadium.  

The first event was the performance by the Bulgarian team mascots.  They were
blond, pale skinned women which Mr. Weasley identified as Veela.  Their
flawless features gave them an unnatural look, though obviously, I had no room
to talk.  The veela began to dance, and I instantly felt a mental intrusion. 
Observing the layer of my mind that was being effected, isolated from the rest
through occlumency, I was able to determine the intent.  The veela were
magically enhancing their attractiveness.  I was ammused to note that their
spell wouldn't have effected me anyway.  They weren't my type.  

Looking around, those of us who'd studied occlumency with Snape last year were
the only ones in the top box unaffected.  The males were staring wide-eyed, and
often with their jaws hanging slack, while the females had their eyes narrowed
in irritation.  Well, Winky still had her face covered, so it was questionable
if she'd even noticed the veela one way or the other.  Narcissa and Lucius were
restraining Draco who seemed inclined to jump out of his chair.  

Once the veela took their seats, over the protests of the crowd who wanted
more, Ireland's mascots appeared.  Thousands of leprechauns did some formation
flying, carrying colored lamps that made them look like a living fireworks
display.  As they flew by, they rained gold coins down on the crowd.  

Finally, it was time for the game.  I put my omniocculars to my face, switched
on the play-by-play option, and watched the players take to the field.  The
match was fast paced, but hilariously one sided.  Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian
seeker made his Irish counterpart look like an amateur, but Ireland's team of
chasers was so fast and so well coordinated, it was all the Bulgarian beaters
could do slowing them down as they racked up goals.  

Fouls started coming in for Bulgaria as they desperately tried to stay in the
game by any means necessary.  At one point, the veela mascots attempted to work
their charms on the referee, but he was brought to his senses by a swift kick
in the shins.  

Ireland's leprechauns formed taunting words and pictures in the sky that
eventually managed to provoke the veela to violence.  They conjured handfulls
of fire and started hurling htem at the leprechauns.  Their appearance shifted
dramatically, each veela growing a sharp beak and scaly wings.  

Wizards tried to intercede in the battle between the mascots as the game
continued overhead.  Viktor Krum took a bludger to the face, breaking his nose,
just before his Irish counterpart went into a hard dive in pursuit of the game
ending golden snitch.  Even injured, Krum was the better flyer.  He gained on
the Irish seeker, grabbed the snitch, and pulled out of the dive that left his
counterpart colliding with the ground.  Ireland won 170:160, but Krum had go
the Snitch.  I glanced at Fred and George who'd just bet their life savings on
precisely this outcome.  

                                     * * *


The celebrations went long into the night, and our arty was happily up
discussing the match for hours.  We passed around pairs of omniocculars,
replaying bits of the match for one another to bolster our good natured
arguments.  At length, Ginny passed out from exhaustion at the table, and Mr.
Weasley sent everyone off to bed.  

I'd only just properly settled when the cheers and noises of celebration
outside turned to screams of panic.  I hopped up as Mr. Weasley quickly roused
the others.  It took a moment after exiting the tent before I identified what
it was people were fleeing.  

There was a cluster of wizards wearing masks and hoods.  They marched as a unit
with their wands pointed skyward.  In the air above them, were four humanoid
figures, difficult to make out int he darkness.  Random wizards joined the
marchers, and someone blasted a tent in their path with his wand, setting
several nearby tents on fire in the process.  Amid the flames, I recognized Mr.
Roberts, the muggle campground manager.  A woman and two children, presumably
his family, were suspended up there with him.  They were terrified.  

The muggles were being contorted painfully by the wizards below.  One of the
children was sent spinning, and the woman was turned upside down so her dress
would fall down and show off her underwear.  

"Fuck underage magic restrictions," I said, seething with outrage.  I took a
step toward the crowd of wizards, stomping my foot hard.  When it came down, I
used the transmutation circle on the sole of my boot to cause the ground to
swell up like a wave on water, which zoomed toward the sadistic crowd
accompanied by blue sparks of alchemic light.  

I could hear Mr. Weasley sending the other underage students off into the woods
for protection as my wave of earth hit and knocked the crowd off their feet. 
Sloth's wand put up a blue disk of transmuted air to catch the Roberts family
and prevent them from falling when the puppeteers below were no longer holding
them up.  

Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Arthur charged at the crowd as they got to their
feet.  Harry, Neville, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George had heeded Mr.
Weasley's instructions and fled to the safety of the forest.  

"I've got the muggles," declared Sloth.  "Help the others!"  

I held up my left hand and a transmutation circle drew itself on my wrist.  I
activated it, and a disk of blue alchemic light appeared in front of me to
shield from the hexes, curses, and jinxes the crowd was hurling in my general
direction as I charged in.  

With each step, I transmuted the ground, causing stone arms to reach up and
grab one of the hostile wizards, pinning his arms to his sides.  A flurry of
red stunning hexes launched from the Weasleys' wands, knocking some of the
crowd unconscious.  Enemy wizards revived their stunned companions, blasted
away my stone hands, and still had enough numbers to throw attack spells.  The
Weasleys were no slouches, and put up shielding spells to block the hostile
magic.  

Sloth, meanwhile, was moving the Roberts family out of harm's way and down to
the ground near her.  No spells were getting through me or the Weasleys, so she
was able to focus and bring them down safely.  

Deciding that killing them would probably only escalate an already nasty
situation, but determined that we needed to thin their numbers, I took aim with
my wand and blasted one of the enemy wands to splinters with a simple
deconstruction.  That got their attention.  The now unarmed wizard apparated
away.  

By the time the rest of the Ministry wizards arrived on the scene, Sloth had
joined me in deconstructing wands, while the Weasleys were alternating between
defending with shield charms and throwing stunning hexes, disarming spells, and
full body binds at the enemy wizards.  

The Ministry wizards decisively turned the tide.  No longer outnumbering us, it
was all the marchers could do to shield themselves, let alone revive their
stunned colleges.  Suddenly, the entire crowd decided discretion was the better
part of valor and app apparated away simultaneously.  

People were pointing at the sky.  I looked up to see a skull with a snake
emerging from its mouth, made of green points of light, hovering over the
forest Harry and the others had fled into.  Screams of terror were coming from
every direction as people caught sight of the image in the sky.

"The Dark Mark," breathed Bill.  "They haven't...  You don't think..."  

"All of you, stay here," demanded Arthur with a tone of authority.  "I'm going
to get the kids.  I need everyone else to stay right here while I do.  He
strode out into the forest.  

"The stunned ones'll turn out to be just a bunch of random drunks.  All the
actual masked Death Eaters apparated away," said Charlie.  

"Those were Death Eaters?" I asked.  

He nodded.  "I'm pretty sure."  

"What's that mark?" asked Sloth, pointing up.  

"It's a sign the Death Eaters used to use," said Bill.  "Back when You-Know-Who
was active, they used to send it into the air whenever they killed someone."  

We all fell silent contemplating who might have died and hoping our friends and
family were safe.  

"You won't be in trouble," said Percy after a long moment.  "There are
provisions in the restriction on underage magic to cover emergencies."  

Sloth and I nodded our thanks.  That would be a relief to know once we no
longer had to worry about what may have happened in the forest.  I considered
my time turner, but the dark mark itself would mean saving anyone through time
travel was likely to cause paradox.  That was probably part of the reason they
used it in the first place.  Thoughts of bringing one of the Weasleys and
having them cast the spell after we saved the victim were quashed upon learning
that how to cast the specific spell to conjure the Dark Mark was successfully
kept secret and known only to Death Eaters.  

Fred and George emerged from the forest with Ginny and Neville in tow.  They'd
been separated from Harry, Ron, and Hermione in their escape from the crowd. 
It was another ten minutes before Arthur returned with the remaining members of
our party, and explanations of what happened in the woods were provided.  

No one had died.  After getting separated from the others, Harry had noticed
his wand was missing.  They heard the incantation when the Dark Mark went up. 
Ministry wizards apparated in and cast stunning spells, which Harry, Ron, and
Hermione avoided getting hit by ducking.  They did end up stunning Winky, who
turned out to be Barty Crouch's house elf.  Winky was found with Harry's wand. 
Crouch sacked Winky on the spot for fleeing the tent during the riot.  It had
been generally agreed that whoever cast the Dark Mark used Harry's wand and
dropped it when he apparated away.  

                                     * * *


We caught an early portkey and returned to the Burrow the next morning, much to
Mrs. Weasley's relief.  Once there, Harry took Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny,
Sltoh,and I upstairs to talk privately.  Harry shared his suspicions that the
Death Eater attack and the Dark Mark were related to his dream.  Harry also
related a prophecy he'd heard from Trelawney last year, that the Dark Lord's
servant would return to him and that he would rise again, "greater and more
terrible than ever before."  Petigrew had escaped shortly after.  

To get our minds off that worrying subject, I turned to Neville and said, "I
still owe you an explanation about the unspeakable, don't I?"  

"I did ask that, didn't I," said Neville, thinking back.  It had obviously
skipped his mind in the excitement.  

"You guys know me and Sloth are from another world," I said.  "We entered this
world through a portal hidden away at the bottom of the Ministry of Magic.  The
unspeakables caught us there and thought we broke in.  Dumbledore convinced
them to let us go."  

That distraction hadn't lasted nearly as long as I'd hoped.  Fortunately, Ron
came to the rescue, suggesting a game of Quidditch.  We spent a good deal fo
the remaining week before school on broomsticks.  Bill, Charlie, Fred, and
George happily joined in and helped distract us from our troubles, and offered
some good flying tips.  

Percy and Arthur were at the office almost constantly, trying to calm people
down afer the attack on the World Cup.  The day we were to depart for Hogwarts,
Mr. Weasley was called in by Amos Diggory to help sort out a problem.  A
paranoid ex-Auror (dark wizard catcher) named Mad-Eye Moody claimed to have
heard an intruder.  His dustbins had been animated and managed to ambush and
drive off the intruder.  

The message had been delivered by Amos Diggory's disembodied head, which was
sticking out of the fireplace.  Apparently it was possible to floo just your
head for the purpose of communication.  It seemed like an option that was
probably more trouble than it was worth with how the floo network functioned. 
Still, it was a step up in the communication infrastructure from letters
delivered by owls.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Some long standing tensions about the way the wizarding world does business are
starting to come back to the surface for our interdimensional travelers. 
***** The New Defense Professor *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 35) The New Defense Professor
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


The journey on the Hogwarts Express was uneventful besides catching up with
Luna, and Draco deciding to stop by to gloat that he'd been told by his father
what this mysterious event happening at Hogwarts was.  Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle
took off when Ron's chimera asked if they were bothering him and offered to
bite them if need be.  

It was storming badly when we arrived, and everyone debarking the carriages ran
to get out of the rain.  As soon as we were inside, Peeves the poltergeist
pelted us with water balloons.  Once Professor McGonagall chased him off, I
clapped my hands and touched the others, drying us off with alchemy.  

"Seriously," said Ron once he was dry.  "How do you do that with no circle?"  

"That's what you'll be learning this year," I said with a proud smile before
heading into the Great Hall and taking my seat with the other Ravenclaws.  

There was a long delay as we collectively awaited the new first years making
their way through the storm by boat.  At length, they arrived, and I cheered
and greeted the new Ravenclaws as the Sorting Hat sent them along to our
table.  The food appeared on our plates and the feast got underway.  As we ate,
I encouraged the new students to leave a note of thanks on their plates for the
house elves if they enjoyed their meals.  It had been Sloth's idea over the
summer, which she'd shared with the Gryffindors in our parseltongue club.  

When the plates had been cleared, Dumbledore rose to make an announcement. 
He'd gotten through the list of new items Filch had banned, and explained that
the Quidditch season was canceled this year.  He was just about to explain what
event would be replacing it when a man entered.  

He had dark grey hair and a heavily scarred face.  The man walked with a limp,
leaning on a heavy staff.  One of his legs was missing and had been replaced
with a clawed prosthetic.  My own leg ached slightly in sympathy as I recalled
my various experiences requiring automail, both before acquiring my homunculus
body, and during my brief stay in a world where my alchemy based abilities
didn't function.  His eyes were different colors, one dark brown and the other
electric blue.  The blue eye turned and rolled independently.  

Dumbledore shook the man's hand and offered him a seat at the staff table. 
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?  Professor
Moody."  

Now I understood where the nickname Mad-Eye came from.  I applauded politely,
but I was one of a very few who did.  Moody, for his part, seemed more
concerned with the risk that his food may be poisoned than with the greeting,
taking a swig from a hip flask rather than risk his goblet.  

Dumbledore spoke again.  "As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting
a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held
for over a century.  It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the
Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."  

"You're joking!" shouted Fred Weasley.  Laughs from around the Great Hall
sounded at Fred's cue.  

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore, "though now that you mention
it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a
leprechaun who all go into a bar... Er... but maybe this is not the time...
no...  Where was I?  Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament.  Well, some of you will
not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do will forgive me
for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.  

"The Triwizard tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as
a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry:
Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang.  A champion was selected to represent
each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks.  The
schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it
was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between
young witches and wizards of different nationalities.  Until, that is, the
death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.  

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the
tournament, none of which has been very successful.  However, our own
departments of international magical cooperation and magical games and sports
have decided the time is ripe for another attempt.  We have worked hard over
the summer to ensure that this time no champion will find himself or herself in
mortal danger.  

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-
listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will
take place at Halloween.  An impartial judge will decide which students are
most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a
thousand galleons personal prize money.  

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,
the heads of the participating schools along with the Ministry of Magic have
agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year.  Only students who
are of age, that is to say seventeen years or older, will be allowed toput
forward their names for consideration.  This is a measure we feel is necessary
given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever
precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and
seventh year will be able to cope with them.  I will personally be ensuring
that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them
Hogwarts champion.  I therefor beg you not to waste your time submitting
yourself if you are under seventeen.  

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October
and remaining with us for the greater part of this year.  I know that you will
all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and
will give your wholehearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is
selected.  And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be
alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning.  Bedtime!  Chop,
chop!"  

                                     * * *


It was good being back at Hogwarts, even if the door to the Ravenclaw common
room remained a constant source of irritation.  My schedule still required the
use of the time turner, including having my Arithmancy and Divination classes
overlapping on the first day.  Other than being introduced to blast ended
skrewts in Care of Magical Creatures, things were relatively uneventful until I
got to Divination.  

This term, we were studying astrology.  The problem was, astrology relied on
knowing the state of the stars and planets at the time of your birth.  I'd been
born in a parallel universe, which wasn't in temporal sync with this one.  Even
if I assumed the dating systems were compatible between worlds (and Hohenheim's
birth date on his chocolate frog card suggested they were) the temporal
differential meant I'd be using a chart for someone born over a century ago.  

Sloth had it even worse.  Between having no idea if she should use the day the
original Nina was born, the day she was transmuted, or even Lockheart's
birthday due to having his soul, none of those dates would seem reasonable for
who and what we were presenting ourselves to be.  And our astrology charts had
to be turned in next week.  

At dinner, rumors were unavoidable saying that Mad-Eye Moody had got into a
confrontation with Draco Malfoy over something involving Harry.  I eventually
managed to piece together that Draco had tried to curse Harry in the halls, and
Moody had transfigured Draco into a ferret and bounced him off the floor until
McGonagall stepped in and put Draco right.  Given everything Draco had done and
tried to do over the years, it was hard mustering much sympathy for him,
especially right after trying to curse Harry.  

After dinner, I met up with Sloth and headed out to the Quidditch field.  Loki
happily trotted along at our heels.  

"No Quidditch this year means we need to do some scheduling with Ron for his
alchemy lessons," I said.  "I'd like to get the lab set up for him to study red
water safely before we meet up next week for our fencing lessons."  

"Shouldn't be too bad," said Sloth.  "You based this lab on your old one from
when you were human.  We get some breath filters and some gloves and he should
be fine down there."  

I took Sloth's hand and she held Loki's collar with the other, and the three of
us descended through the ground, and emerged through the ceiling of my secret
underground laboratory.  The first thing I noticed wrong was that it wasn't
dark.  Freestanding torch sconces had been set up, lit with bluebell flames
that shed light, but not heat.  The cause was quickly made obvious.  Mad-Eye
Moody was seated on our couch.  

"I thought this bolt hole might belong to the two of you," said Moody.  

"How did you get in here?" asked Sloth.  It was a reasonable question.  Wizards
couldn't pass through solid matter, and there weren't any doors for precisely
that reason.  

"Blasted in through the ceiling and repaired it once I was inside," he replied
casually.  

"How'd you find this place?" I asked.  

Moody pointed to his false eye and said, "I was doing an initial security sweep
of the grounds and I saw this place under the Quidditch field.  Seemed worth
checking out."  

"That eye can see through solid matter?" I asked.  He nodded.  

"Why did you think this place was ours?" asked Sloth.  

Moody's eye rotated in its socket to face what normal vision would regard as a
blank wall.  In truth, it was the way to the bedroom Sloth and I made use of
down here.  "There are some photographs in there that feature the both of you
pretty prominently.  There was no guarantee that meant anything with all the
potion ingredients stockpiled down here.  There's enough boomslang skin and
bicorn horn to make a year's supply of polyjuice."  

I blushed, but not nearly as red as Sloth did.  I asked, "What happens now?"  

Moody got to his feet and shrugged.  "Nothing.  A couple teenagers slipping off
away from adult supervision's been happening since we invented teenagers.  And
it's not like you're the first ones to come up with using potions to spice
things up.  I was only down here making sure there wasn't more to it than
that."  

He pointed his wand at a wall and blasted a tunnel back up to the surface
before resealing the wall behind him.  His torches and bluebell flames vanished
a moment later, leaving us in the dark.  I activated the array to light the
room.  I could see Sloth was still blushing furiously.  

"Why couldn't he have broken through the ceiling of our garden instead?"
muttered Sloth angrily.  

"Then we'd have found him on the floor dying of red water poisoning," I said.  

"Exactly," said Sloth.  

"You don't mean that," I said gently.  "That could've gone way worse."  

"I know," she said, "but I don't have to like it.  And there's not going to be
a next time.  I'm burning those pictures."  A flame alchemy array drew itself
on the back of her right hand as she stepped through the wall to the bedroom.  

I sat down and petted Loki.  "Besides how embarrassing that was," I said to my
dog, "if he can see through matter, he could spy on Ron's alchemy lessons. 
This year's human transmutation, the one Voldemort was after.  We can't risk
anyone else learning that secret."  

"It's done," said Sloth, stepping back through the well.  "You don't think that
eye can see through clothes too, do you?"  

"Probably," I said.  "Not to mention the walls of the showers and bathrooms. 
If he's had that thing long enough to have a nickname about it, there's no
surprise he acted as blase as he did."  

"Well, that's just great," huffed Sloth.  "We can't be sure of a moment's
privacy all year."  

"And that also means I have to be more careful about using my time turner. 
Catching us alone down here was embarrassing.  Using my time turner for
anything but getting to class means Azkaban."  

                                     * * *


Paranoia seeemed too mild a word to describe the feeling that magic eye
inspired in me.  I had occlumency training to protect my thoughts and memories,
but the knowledge that I could be being watched anywhere, at any time, with no
means of defending myself brought back old fears and feelings of
vulnerability.  I carefully followed all the school rules and meticulously
maintained my human impression at all hours of the day and night.  

A few days later, I had my first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Mad-
Eye Moody.  After taking attendance, he launched into his prepared speech.  

"I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class.  Seems you've had a
pretty thorough grounding in tackling dark creatures. You've covered boggarts,
red caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, kappsas, and werewolves.  Is that right?"  

"We also did vampires," noted another student.  

Moody nodded.  "But you're behind, very behind on dealing with curses.  So, I'm
here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other.  I've got
one year to teach you how to deal with dark curses.  

"They come in many strengths and forms.  Now, according to the Ministry of
Magic,I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that.   I'm not
supposed to show you what illegal dark curses look like until you're in the
sixth year.  You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. 
But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves.  He reckons you
can cope, and I say the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. 
How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen?  A
wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what
he's about to do.  He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face.  You
need to be allert and watchful.  CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"  The last word was
shouted so loud and so sudden everyone jumped.  

"So," continued Moody smoothly, "do any of you know what curses are most
heavily punished by wizarding law?"  

"The-the unforgivables," said Michael Corner hesitantly, though not because he
wasn't sure of the answer.  

Moody smiled and said, "Good, and do you know what they are?"  

"Cruciatus... Imperius... Adava Kedavra," recited Michael.  

"Very good," said Moody.  "The use of any one of them on a fellow human being
is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban."  

He retrieved a jar of spiders from his desk and demonstrated each curse. 
Cruciatus, the torture curse, which caused excruciating pain without leaving a
mark.  Because it didn't damage the body, there was no limit to how long the
torture could go on.  Imperius, the control curse, which enslaved the victim to
the caster's will.  It could be fought off, which would be a later lesson, but
that wasn't a sure thing.  The Adava Kedavra, the killing curse, which
instantly killed its target.  There was no known countercurse and it ignored
shields.  The only person to ever survive it had been Harry Potter.  Riddle had
thrown it around at us in second year.  It was lucky it only hit us homunculi
who could regenerate back to life.  

                                     * * *


Sloth and I ended up making several different astrology charts with the intent
of seeing if any of the potential birthdates we had wold produce accurate
results, as well as one we were certain wouldn't produce good results, but
which we could actually hand in without worrying about our cover.  Hagrid's
blast ended skrewts were both more dangerous to normal humans than Norbert the
dragon, and harder to keep alive than engorged flobberworms.  They had a built
in explosive propulsion system, venomous stingers, and they looked like they'd
eventually grow exoskeletons.  Unfortunately, other than the blood sucking
parts on the females, I saw no obvious signs of a means of consuming
nutrients.  It was going to be a long year, since raising them was to be our
class project.  

It was a releif to head down to the Chamber of Secrets for our resumed fencing
lessons with Headless Nick.  If the Chamber had remained hidden all these
centuries, it must have formidable protections against magical spying.  Just to
be sure though, I had the basilisk keep her head turned up toward the school
proper.  If Moody's eye did let him see in here, the basilisk's gaze should
petrify him.  After an hour of brushing up on our fencing after the summer
break, when the others headed back up I kept Ron back.  

"This is where we'll be doing your alchemy lessons this year," I said.  

"How come?" asked Ron.  

"Because what you're learning this year is incredibly dangerous if it falls
into the wrong hands.  It could be used to bring Voldemort back to life, and we
can't risk anyone else watching.  And Moody can look through walls."  

"What's that got to do with-?" started Ron.  

"I don't trust him," I said.  "Nothing personal, but after what happened last
year with Petigrew, I think I'm justified in being a little paranoid.  Make
sure all your notes are encrypted.  Also, no parseltongue during the lessons."
 

"You think the basilisk isn't trustworthy?" asked Ron incredulously.  

"I don't know if the basilisk has had occlumency lessons," I said.  

"Doesn't that require eye contact?"  

"Eye contact makes it easier.  You can do legilimency without it."  

"Okay, okay," said Ron.  "I get it.  Constant vigilance."  

"All right.  Since there's no Quidditch, we'll meet down here once a week. 
Everything you learn this year will be building toward how to achieve
immortality using alchemy.  The techniques you learn this year will be
dangerous.  I'll do what I can to prepare you and mitigate those risks, but
ultimately, the risks to body, mind, and soul involved will dwarf anything the
Triwizard Tournament will be able to throw at the champions.  

"We'll start with the recipe for a highly toxic cocktail of reagents we call
red water.  It produces toxic gasses and any contact risks heavy metal
poisoning.  Once you have your safety equipment, you'll be learning how to
refine red water into an alchemy amplifier called a red stone using the Tringam
method."  

                                     * * *


Our divination homework generated mediocre scores.  I could only hope that we'd
soon move on from astrology.  Defense, I was dreading.  It was occlumency
lessons all over again.  I would have to sit there and let someone try and
tamper with my mind.  In preparation, I ordered my suits of armor to kill Moody
tonight unless I specifically countermanded the order after Defense Against the
Dark Arts.  If I was still under mind control when I left, he'd have to know to
order me to call off the attack.  Hopefully.

Moody cast the Imperius curse on me, and I found myself relaxed and happily
certain that I was in good hands.  All of my thoughts were swept away, leaving
my mind quiet for the first time since Moody had appeared in my lab.  

Moody's voice entered my mind where my own thoughts had been, commanding, "Drop
to the floor and bark like a seal."  

I obeyed without question, my legs folding beneath me.  Then another voice
echoed inside my empty brain.  It was Father Cornello.  I was remembering the
day the Elric brothers had deceived him into announcing his intention to whip
up our religious fanaticism and turn us into his personal army, unquestioningly
loyal and unafraid to die because we would falsely believe in his status as the
sun god's prophet.  

"Bark like a seal," repeated Moody's voice inside my head.  

"No!" came my own voice, suddenly so forceful that it erupted from my lips.  It
was halfway between a bark and the word, but the syllables were unmistakable. 
Moody was thrilled I'd fought as hard as I did, giving me repeated tries until
I could snap myself out of it from the first moment.  

After the occlumency lessons, I'd been expecting a series of escalatingly
difficult to throw off control spells, but apparently the Imperius curse was an
all or nothing effect.  Feeling much more secure, I called off the attack on
Moody and reflected on how lucky I'd been to master it on the first day.  My
classmates hadn't done so well.  

Nor had Sloth as I would learn later that day.  She'd had a panic attack after
Moody undid the curse on her and she had to go to the infirmary.  I went to see
her as soon as I heard, squeezing her hand as soon as Madam Pomfrey was
convinced to let me in.  

"I hate him," sobbed Sloth as I tried to comfort her.  "I almost killed him. 
It was all I could do to stop myself lashing out."  

"He's trying to help," I said soothingly.  "It was your first try.  You'll get
better.  And once you get this, no one will ever be able to do this to you
again."  

"It was just silly stuff he made me do.  Cartwheels while counting backward
from a thousand, but it was so much like being her again.  Not being anything
more than a tool."  

"If you want to stop, it stops," I said firmly.  "If he has a problem with it,
he goes through me.  But I believe you can do this, and I don't think you'll be
able to really feel safe again until you do."  

"I just wish we could practice this with someone I already know and trust."  

"I'll tell you what," I said.  "We'll do it like we did the occlumency lessons
with Dumbledore.  I'll come with you and stay in the room, ready to deconstruct
him into a red paste if he does anything but try to help you learn to beat the
curse."  

"You aren't in my Defense class," she said.  

"I'll turn into a bug and watch," I said.  "With the time turner, I'll have an
alibi."  

"I-  Thank you, Greed," she choked and threw her arms around me.  I returned
her embrace.  

                                     * * *


I watched as a tiny spider clinging to the bottom of Sloth's desk during her
next Defense class.  My presence and moral support helped Sloth work through
her fears and feelings of helplessness, and gave her the confidence to take
multiple tries.  On the third try, she managed a glimmer of resistance, which
soon snowballed into completely throwing off the curse with Moody's continuing
instruction and encouragement.  

I hopped onto Sloth's back as she left, eager to resume human form and
congratulate her.  Once we were in relatively privacy, I did just that, turning
human, but still clinging to her from behind in an affectionate embrace.  

"I knew you could do it!" I said happily.  

"You were right," she said smiling and clearly proud of herself.  "Maybe he's
not so bad after all.  That eye is still creepy, though."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
With the number of buttons he ended up pushing, intentionally or otherwise,
it's a bit surprising that they didn't need another new Defense Professor after
the first couple weeks with this group. 
***** The Goblet of Fire *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 36) The Goblet of Fire
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Harry was corresponding with Sirius by owl.  After Harry's letter this last
summer, Sirius had returned to the country out of concern.  Apparently, he'd
been seeing signs himself of Voldemort preparing to make a move.  Harry was
convinced it had been just a nightmare, but it was clear that was something he
was telling himself because he was worried for Sirius and blaming himself for
putting him in danger.  

Despite continuing arguments about the organization name, Hermione and Sloth
were continuing to work on their house elf rights campaign.  As part of their
regular visits to the kitchens (where they were swamped with gratitude over the
thank you notes) they learned that Winky had been hired at Hogwarts. 
Apparently she wasn't really doing any work, much to the other elves' distaste,
but she was instead drowning her sorrows in drink.  It really tore her up
inside to no longer be serving the Crouchs, as her family had done for
generations.  

To keep Harry from feeling abandoned by Ron during our alchemy lessons, he was
pulled in to help on the house elf projects.  Most recently, they were crafting
a voluntary order for supporting house elf owners to issue.  The idea was to
set up a standing order not to harm themselves and to repeat any mistreatment
they suffered.  There were a lot of specifics to work out.  

Meanwhile, classes were going smoothly.  I was handling the workload without
much difficulty despite it ramping up in anticipation of the OWLs next year.  
Luna showed me various Quibbler articles about conspiracies in the Ministry of
Magic in explanation of how Mad-Eye Moody had gotten paranoid enough to need a
magic eye that could see through the back of his head and why he only ever
drank from his hip flask.  It was a pretty convincing argument, except for the
question of how the Quibbler got away with publishing all the secrets of these
conspiracies.  Luna sensibly explained it was because no one takes the Quibbler
seriously, so no one considers it a threat.  

Finally, it was the day before Halloween.  Our heads of house assembled us
outside to greet the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.  I'd been
enduring rumors about these other schools for weeks leading up to their
arrival.  I'd shocked my housemates by agreeing with the rumored policy of
Durmstrang that they actually taught the dark arts.  It struck me as a sensible
thing to do, and I was keeping enough secrets that I couldn't be bothered to
also hide my contempt for the idea that there was knowledge that was inherently
evil.  After all, learning the dark arts wasn't the same as practicing them.  

I'd tried to bring my omniocculars to watch for the delegations, but Professor
Flitwick had me put them back in my trunk.  Our uniforms were all looked over
and we were arranged in neat lines.  Everyone wanted to make a good impression
on our foreign visitors.  

Beauxbatons arrived in a massive carriage the size of a large house pulled by a
dozen winged horses the size of elephants.  The students dressed in pale blue
robes, and the headmistress was a woman as large as Hagrid named Madame
Maxime.  Due to their late autumn arrival, and the light silk of the
Beauxbatons uniform robes, the delegation quickly headed inside the castle to
warm up.  

Durmstrang arrived by boat.  A massive ship that traveled underwater, emerging
to the surface in a giant whirlpool.  The Durmstrang students wore deep red
robes under heavy fur cloaks.  One of them was unmistakably Viktor Krum, the
Bulgarian national Quidditch team's seeker.  After a brief discussion with the
Durmstrang headmaster Karkaroff, Dumbledore sent them inside as well.  Ron used
a red stone to create a quill and parchment to get an autograph with, but Krum
had already gone inside.  

When we arrived in the Great Hall, the Beauxbatons students were already seated
at the Ravenclaw table.  A few of them were still shivering.  I drew my wand
and created some warm cloaks on the back of their chairs the same color as
their uniforms.  That earned me a nod of gratitude as I took my seat and
welcomed them to Hogwarts.  

The Durmstrang students eventually settled at the Slytherin table and took off
their heavy cloaks.  The two headmasters took a seat on either side of
Dumbledore, who remained standing to make an announcement.  

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and most particularly guests.  I
have the great pleasure of welcoming you all to Hogwarts.  I hope and trust
that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.  The tournament
will be officially opened at the end of the feast.  I now invite you all to
eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

I put in an effort to socialize with the Beauxbatons students, suggesting local
dishes to taste and trying some of the flavors from their home country that the
house elves had prepared.  By the time we'd reached desert, they all looked
considerably less cold and miserable.  I left my note of thanks and compliments
to the house elves, and some of the Beauxbatons students followed suit.  

With the food done, I looked back up to the head table to see that Ludo Bagman
and Barty Crouch had joined the feast at some point.  Once again, Dumbledore
rose to speak.  

"The moment has come.  The Triwizard Tournament is about to start.  I would
like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to
clarify the procedure we will be following this year.  But first, let me
introduce, for those who don't know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, head of the
Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, head of
the Department of Magical Games and Sports.  

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on
the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself,
Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the
champions' efforts.  The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."  

Filch brought forward a jewel encrusted wooden chest and set it on the table in
front of Dumbledore, who continued to speak.  

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already
been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, and they have made the necessary
arrangements for each challenge.  There will be three tasks spaced throughout
the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways: their
magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and of course, their
ability to cope with danger.  

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the
participating schools.  They will be marked on how well they perform each of
the tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three
will win the Triwizard Cup.  The champions will be chosen by an impartial
selector: the Goblet of Fire."  

Opening the casket, Dumbledore produced a rough, wooden cup that must've dated
back to the tournament's founding seven centuries ago.  Filling the cup were a
mass of blue white flames.  He closed the chest and set the goblet on top
before continuing.  

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and
school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet.  Aspiring
champions have twenty four hours in which to put their names forward.  Tomorrow
night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged
most worthy to represent their schools.  The goblet will be placed in the
entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing
to compete.  

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an
age line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance
hall.  Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.  

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this
tournament is not to be entered into lightly.  Once a champion has been
selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament
through to the end.  The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a
binding magical contract.  There can be no change of heart once you have become
a champion.  Please be very sure, therefor, that you are wholeheartedly
prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet.  Now, I think it is
time for bed.  Good night to you all."  

The Durmstrang and Beauxbatons parties returned to their respective transports
for the night.  Due to a holdup at the door caused by the Durmstrang headmaster
Karkaroff recognizing Harry, I was able to briefly check in with Sloth, hissing
in parseltongue for her to get her cloak and meet me in the entry hall tonight.
 

                                     * * *


In Ravenclaw tower, I waited for the others to go to bed, then retrieved my
invisibility cloak.  Although, looking over it, the magic was clearly fading,
I'd be mostly translucent in it, which was still better than without the cloak,
but it would definitely need to be replaced.  I supposed that was what I got
for taking it time traveling with me.  

Sloth was waiting for me in the entrance hall.  The Goblet of Fire was seated
on the Sorting Hat's stool in the center of a golden ring drawn on the floor.  

"I'm here," she said when I took off my cloak.  "What's this about?"  

"The age line," I said pointing.  "It can tell us what age this world's magic
things we are.  I figure that'll at least narrow down how many charts we need
to make for our astrology homework in Divination."  

"So, you want us to try putting our names in the Goblet of Fire," she said. 
"Isn't that risky?  Dumbledore said it was a 'binding magical contract'
whatever that means."  

"It's a wizard tournament testing magical prowess," I said.  "Neither one of us
can do any magic at all."  

"True," she said.  "Okay, do you have some parchment?"  

We each wrote our names and school on some parchment and stepped over the age
line at the same time.  A moment later, Sloth was burled back out and flew ten
feet away before crashing to the ground.  A popping noise accompanied the
appearance of a long brown beard on her face.  

"Looks like it thinks you're of age and I'm not," said Sloth.  She held the
beard up to examine it, then clapped her hands.  The beard vanished amid blue
sparks of alchemic light as she ran a hand across her face.  

I dropped my parchment into the Goblet of Fire, and the blue flames turned
briefly red.  Then I stepped out of the circle.  That did indeed narrow down
the appropriate astrology chart.  Before leaving, I mentioned the fading of my
cloak and suggested that we might want to put new invisibility cloaks on the
others' Christmas lists.  Harry's had been inherited and was probably fading to
visibility too.  

                                     * * *


The next day, Sloth and I joined Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville
visiting Hagrid.  Ginny and Luna were in their first term of Care of Magical
Creatures with Hagrid, but outside classes, this was the first chance we'd had
to visit with him.  As usual, Loki and Fang got on beautifully.  

Apparently, Hagrid had taken a fancy to Madame Maxime, and had donned the
hideous suit and tie he'd worn to Buckbeak's trial.  He'd also tried to do
something with his hair, and failed rather spectacularly.  Sloth, Ron, and I
set to work fixing up his appearance, transmuting his hair and clothes in front
of a mirror until Hagrid had precisely the look he wanted.  The others offered
suggestions and critiques regarding what looked good on him.  

As usual, Sloth and I were the only ones who could stomach Hagrid's cooking. 
That didn't stop the others from staying for lunch too.  We discussed the
Triwizard Tournament.  Hagrid had helped set up the trials and was barely able
to keep himself from telling us what was coming in his excitement.  

When the time came to return to the Great Hall for dinner, we wished Hagrid
luck with Madame Maxime and headed out.  Speculation abounded about who would
be chosen as Hogwarts champions.  Apparently, Fred and George had tried to
bypass the age line with an ageing potion.  It had the same result on them as
it had on Sloth.  

After we'd all eaten our fill at the Halloween feast, Dumbledore rose to speak
again.  

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision.  I estimate it requires
one more minute.  Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them
please to come up to the top of the hall, walk along the staff table, and go
through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first
instructions."  

Dumbledore extinguished the candles except those in the pumpkins laid out
around the room so we could better see the flames in the goblet.  Suddenly, the
blue white flames flared red and a parchment was ejected.  Dumbledore caught it
and read.  

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum."  

Applause and congratulations sounded through the Hall.  Viktor rose and walked
along the path Dumbledore had indicated, vanishing into the next room.  Then
again, the flames of the goblet flared red, and Dumbledore read the next
parchment.  

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"  

A girl stood and made her walk up to the next room to further applause.  Some
of the Beauxbatons delegation burst into tears of disappointment.  They must
have really had their hopes up.  The Goblet of Fire ejected a third parchment. 
He didn't look happy with what he read.  

"The Hogwarts champion is Marcus Oren."  

It took me a minute to realize what had happened.  I was being thumped on the
back and pushed to my feet by my housemates.  I made my way to the head table. 
Once there, I turned to Dumbledore and said, "I didn't think that-"  

"Through the door, Marcus," he sad, coolly.  

Viktor and Fleur were waiting by the fire when I entered the waiting room.  We
stared awkwardly at one another for a long moment.  Then Harry entered the
room.  

"Harry," I greeted him.  "Did Dumbledore manage to sort out this mistake?"  

"Er," said Harry awkwardly.  

Before he could collect his thoughts, Ludo Bagman entered and pulled Harry
forward saying, "Extraordinary!  Absolutely extraordinary.  Gentlemen, lady,
may I introduce, incredible thought it may seem, the fourth Triwizard
champion?"  

"Fourth?" asked Fleur.  

"Er," I said, "they called my name too."  

"But evidently there has been a mistake.  They cannot compete.  They are too
young."  

"Well, it is amazing," said Bagman, "but as you know, the age restriction was
only imposed this year as an extra safety measure, and their names came out of
the goblet.  I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. 
It's down in the rules, you're obliged.  They will just have to do the best
they-"  

The remaining judges burst in, along with McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick.  

Fleur approached her headmistress, reporting, "Madame Maxime, they are saying
that these little boys are to compete!"  

"What is the meaning of this, Dumbledore?" demanded Maxime.  

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff.  "Two
Hogwarts champions?  I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is
allowed two champions.  Or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"  

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Marcus?" asked Flitwick kindly.  

"I did," I admitted, "but I didn't expect to get chosen.  I just wanted to see
if I could cross the age line.  I mean, I'm a..."  I almost said muggle.  How
could the Goblet of Fire pick me for a TriWIZARD tournament?  But I didn't dare
say that, so I finished, "... a fourth year."  

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.  

"No," said Harry.  Snape snorted derisively.  

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" asked
Dumbledore.  

"No!" repeated Harry even more firmly.  

Maxime and Karkaroff were both furious, suggesting one fix after another to
restore fairness to the tournament.  Resubmitting names from Beauxbatons and
Durmstrang to bring the total champions up to six was shot down.  Both I and
Harry offered to withdraw in favor of the other, but apparently "binding
magical contract" meant we had no choice but to compete.  

Mad-Eye Moody entered the room as Karkaroff was threatening to walk out of the
tournament.  

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled Moody.  "You can't leave your champion now. 
He's got to compete.  They've all got to compete.  Binding magical contract
like Dumbledore said.  Convenient, eh?"  

"Convenient?  I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody," said Karkaroff.  

"Don't you?" said Moody.  "It's very simple, Karkaroff.  Someone put Potter's
name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."  

"And Marcus?" asked Flitwick.  

"A distraction," said Moody.  "Sorry, boy, but Potter's got enemies you don't."
 

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't
discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff
dismissively.  "Apparently he is now teaching hsi students to fear
assassination too.  An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,
Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."  

"Imagining things, am I?" said Moody.  "Seeing things, eh?  It was a skilled
witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet."  

"And what evidence is there of that?" asked Maxime.  

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object," said Moody.  "It
would have needed an exceptionally strong confundus charm to bamboozle that
goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament.  I'm
guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school to make sure he was
the only one in his category."  

"Could that confundus charm be the reason I was chosen?" I asked.  "A side
effect of whoever messed with the goblet to try and kill Harry?"  

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore.  "It seems to me,
however, that we have no choice but to accept it.  Both Marcus and Harry have
been chosen to compete in the Tournament.  This, therefore, they will do."  

"Ah, but Dumbledore-"  

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to
hear it," said Dumbledore.  

No one had a way out of this situation.  Whoever was trying to kill Harry this
year had done a very good job cutting off our options.  Bagman was the only
person who seemed happy.  

"Well, shall we crack on, then," said Bagman with an excited grin.  "Got to
give our champions their instructions, haven't we?  Barty, want to do the
honors?"  

"Yes, instructions.  Yes.  The first task," said Crouch, suddenly coming to his
senses.  He'd clearly been in deep thought.  "The first task is designed to
test your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is.  Courage in
the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard.  Very important.  

"The first task will take place on November the twenty fourth in front of the
other students and the panel of judges.  The champions are not permitted to ask
for or accept any kind of help from their teachers to complete the tasks in the
tournament.  The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their
wands.  They will receive information about the second task when the first is
over.  Owing to the demanding and time consuming nature of the tournament, the
champions are exempt from end of year tests.  

"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"  

"I think so," said Dumbledore.  "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at
Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"  

"No, Dumbledore," replied Crouch.  "I must get back to the Ministry.  It is a
very busy, very difficult time at the moment.  I've left young Weasley in
charge.  Very enthusiastic.  A little overenthusiastic if truth be told."  

After a few parting words to the other judges, Dumbledore turned toward Harry
and I, smiling benignly again.  Apparently Moody's theory had returned us to
his good graces.  "Harry, Marcus, I suggest you go up to bed.  I am sure
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a
shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and
noise."  

I was never popular in Ravenclaw.  I didn't play Quidditch.  I hung around with
members of other houses.  And I stuck up for Luna Lovegood.  Beyond that, I was
prone to long hours studying alone.  So, I didn't know how to cope when I
entered the common room and the entire house cheered for me.  I was
congratulated again and again, both for being chosen, and for bypassing
Dumbledore's age line.  

                                     * * *


I got up early the next day and found my way to the library.  I'd finally,
after three years, gotten used to the filing system.  I had to resolutely
ignore the other Ravenclaw students who continue to stop me to offer
congratulations and ask how I'd done it.  

After an hour or so, a welcome sight appeared.  Sloth had come looking for me,
followed by the other members of our parseltongue club.  They settled in at the
table I was working at.  

"What are you doing here, Greed?" asked Sloth, glancing at the heavy tomes laid
out before me.  

"I'm researching binding magical contracts," I said.  "I can't believe they'd
use one of these for a school competition."  

"Why?" asked Harry.  

"It's like the unbreakable vow," I said.  Ron winced.  "If you break the terms,
you die."  

"Well, that makes sense," said Hermione, eliciting stares.  "I mean, this
contest is really dangerous.  Loads of people have died competing.  If they had
any other option, I'm sure they would've backed out."  

"What bothers me most is that the Goblet of Fire can apparently get confunded
into letting you enter someone else into a binding magical contract," I
continued.  "I mean, at least I actually put my name in the cup.  I was an
idiot doing it, but I did it."  

"How did you manage that?" asked Ron, drawing stares of his own.  Abashedly, he
said, "I was just curious."  

I hissed in parseltongue, "I'm not human, remember?  I'm an immortal shape
shifter who chooses to look fourteen."  

"I think Moody was right," said Harry.  "My name got entered under a fourth
school by whoever did this.  You're the real Hogwarts champion."  

Still in parseltongue, I hissed, "I am not a wizard.  You are the only wizard
from Hogwarts in this tournament."  I gestured to my fake wand, covered in
alchemic script, most of which Ron could now read and understand.  

"So Hogwarts has two half-trained champions instead of one fully trained one
each from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang," said Ginny.  "I think you'll both
surprise everyone with how well you do."  

"The important thing is to stay alive," said Neville.  "Whoever entered Harry
probably did it hoping he'd get killed."  

"Moody said the same thing," I said.  

"It was probably a teacher," said Luna, glancing down at one of my open books. 
"Harry puts his name on all his assignments, so they could use his real
signature."  

"Moody's the obvious suspect," said Sloth.  "He's new, and we haven't had good
luck with defense professors."  

"There's also Professor Snape," said Neville.  "I know he helped us with
occlumency last year, but he was a death eater."  

"Professor Trelawney keeps predicting Harrry's death," offered Ron.  "Maybe she
decided to help it along."  

"If Snape wanted to kill me, he's had plenty of chances," said Harry.  

"And Trelawney's a fraud, but I don't think she'd resort to something like
this," said Hermione.  

"Dad thinks highly of Moody, and Dumbledore trusts him," said Ginny.  

"I guess we just have to keep an eye out for more clues," I said.  "In the
meantime, we try to get through these tasks without dying."  

                                     * * *


The immediate result of this four champions business was that the school split
more or less along house lines.  Ravenclaw was backing me to the hilt, just as
Gryffindor was backing Harry.  The Hufflepuffs seemed to think we were both
cheaters and abstained from any cheer leading.  Sloth stuck with me, and
continued to be friends with Harry, which lost her some popularity in her
house.  The Slytherins, embarrassingly, threw their support behind me.  Harry'd
given them no end of trouble in the house and Quidditch cups, while I'd stayed
under the radar until now.  I coldly reminded Draco he'd once tried to kill my
dog when he cheered for me in order to upset Harry.  

I'd never cared in the slightest about the popularity contests among the
student body, and I wasn't about to start now.  The real problem as far as I
was concerned, was slipping away from cheerers and jeerers to get into Moaning
Myrtle's bathroom.  I had moved on to explaining the basics of soul attachment
to Ron.  We went over the soul coins I'd produced and discussed the effects of
souls bound to armor.  I also elaborated a bit about how my soul was attached
to my homunculus body.  

A couple weeks after being chosen as champion, I was unexpectedly called out of
class for photographs for the Daily Prophet.  I arrived at the same time as
Harry.  Viktor and Fleur were already waiting.  

"Ah, there they are," declared Ludo Bagman.  The other judges weren't there,
but a woman and man I didn't recognize were also there.  The man had a camera. 
"In you come, in you come.  Nothing to worry about.  It's just the wand
weighing ceremony.  The rest of the judges will be here in a moment."  

"Wand weighing?" asked Harry before I could.  

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional.  No problems, you know,
as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead.  The expert's upstairs
now with Dumbledore.  And then there's going to be a little photo shoot.  This
is Rita Skeeter."  Bagman gestured toward the woman I didn't recognize.  "She's
doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet."  

My mind worked furiously.  If they checked my wand, they'd find out it was
fake.  But Bagman knew about fake wands.  I gripped my wand and transmuted it
into a rubber chicken.  

"Oh no," I said, holding up the chicken.  "I must've left my real wand in my
dorm."  I ran out of the room.  

They would expect me back, and I'd have to have a working wand when I came.  I
took my time at the brass eagle knocker's riddle while I considered my
options.  It was unlikely they'd let me out of the tournament if I didn't have
a usable wand.  Borrowing someone else's had the twin risks of me not being
able to use it and them being possibly identified as the real owner.  That left
me with only one real option.  

Up in my trunk, I pulled out a wand I'd produced last year in an effort to test
out my arithmancy understanding.  It contained one of the unicorn hairs that
Luna had harvested for me in second year for my ill fated attempt at replacing
Ron's broken wand.  This one had been tested, and worked for ordinary spell
casting.  I clapped my hands and transmuted my fake wand array onto the
outermost surface of the wand and affixed a red stone to the tip.  Assuming I
hadn't screwed something up, this would work for both me and for a real wizard.
 

When I arrived back, Dumbledore was retrieving Harry and Rita Skeeter from a
broom closet.  I didn't ask what was going on.  We entered the room where all
the judges had now been gathered.  There was another familiar face there.  

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, gesturing at one of the
people in the wizarding world with the most cause to suspect I was a muggle. 
"He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition
before the tournament."  

"Mademoiselle Delocour, could we have you first?" asked the white haired wand
maker.  Fleur handed over her wand and he examined it.  "Nine and a half
inches, inflexible, rosewood, and containing... dear me."  

"A hair from the head of a veela," Fleur supplied.  "One of my grandmother's."
 

"Yes, yes," said Ollivander.  "I've never used veela hair myself, of course.  I
find it makes for rather temperamental wands, however to each his own, and if
it suits you... Orchideous!"  Fleur's wand produced a bouquet of flowers. 
Ollivander handed them to Fleur along with her wand.  "Very well, very well,
it's in fine working order.  

"Mr. Krum, if you please," continued Ollivander, accepting Viktor's wand.  "Hm,
this is a Gregorovitch creation unless I'm much mistaken?  A find wand maker,
though the styling is never quite what I... however... Yes hornbeam and dragon
heartstring?  Rather thicker than one usually sees, quite rigid, two and a
quarter inches, Avus!"  A number of small births blasted from the end and flew
out the window.  He handed the wand back to Krum.  

"Mr. Oren, is this a joke?" he asked taking my wand.  "What is this crystal on
the tip?  It looks like decorative runes along the length.  My, my.  Thirteen
inches, unyielding, yew, and... unicorn hair?  Who made this?"  

"I did," I admitted.  "You couldn't match me, so I had to make due."  

"You couldn't match a wand to a wizard?" asked Bagman incredulously.  "I never
thought I'd live to see the day."  

"I have had precisely two failures in my career," said Ollivander.  "This young
man was one of them.  Resorting to this, though...  Less used than I would
expect from an active Hogwarts student."  

"I had to replace it recently," I said.  

"Given the craftsmanship, I can see why," said Ollivander.  "I've seen better
results from a first year wandmaker's apprentice.  It's probably serviceable at
charms, but any serious transfiguration and I wouldn't want to be in the same
room."  

"Does this mean it needs to be replaced?" asked Bagman.  

"I've only ever been able to get good results out of wands I make," I said.  

Ollivander handed me back my wand and said, "This wand is unacceptable.  I
cannot, in good conscience, allow you to compete with this... wand.  If Mr.
Oren insists on using a wand fashioned by his own hands, I shall bring
appropriate tools and materials this Saturday and supervise the construction of
a new wand.  In the meantime, be very careful with that.  

"Which leaves, Mr. Potter.  Yes, yes, yes, how well I remember.  Cored with the
tail feather of a very particular phoenix.  Let's have a look."  Ollivander ran
his fingers gently along the shaft of wood, looking for imperfections.  After a
long examination, he caused Harry's wand to produce a stream of wine and
returned it.  "Perfect condition, just as it was the day I sold it."  

The subsequent photo shoot took hours.  Individual shots, group shots, arranged
by height, arranged by school.  Fleur seemed to have inherited some veela
power, as the camera man seemed to keep trying to get more shots of her.  By
the time I managed to get back to Ravenclaw tower, it was clear I'd need to
pull an all nighter to finish all my remaining homework and keep my schedule
clear for Ollivander.  

                                     * * *


There was some good news for me and bad news for Harry when Rita Skeeter's
article came out.  It was apparently entirely about Harry and his
participation.  My name wasn't even mentioned.  Mind you, the Harry Potter in
the article bore little resemblance to the wizard I knew.  A lot of quotes were
included I couldn't imagine Harry saying.  

Harry got our full condolences at our fencing lessons.  Beyond the article, the
Slytherins had taken to handing out batches that alternated between saying,
"Support Marcus Oren, the real Hogwarts champion," and "Potter Stinks."  That,
at least, we could do something about.  We quickly whipped up batches
supporting each of us, and pinned one another's badge to our shirts.  

Harry did have some good news to share once Headless Nick had left.  He'd heard
back form Sirius Black, and Sirius was going to try to speak to them in the
Grffindor common room in a couple weeks.  Since most of our group were
Gryffindors, they shouldn't have too much trouble.  

Ollivander arrived that Saturday and set up our things in an empty classroom. 
He went over the properties of the three core materials, and those of the woods
he had brought. He ruled out certain combinations and advised length ranges for
selected combinations.  This was far more complicated than I had thought.  It
took all day, but I managed to assemble a rigid oak wand with a dragon
heartstring core, eleven inches long.  He still wasn't happy about the array
and the red stone, but I insisted they were an important inheritance from my
homeland.  In the end, he called the effort acceptable, and suggested I study
wand lore further, perhaps even consider making a career of it.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
While Greed may assume the Goblet of Fire screwed up in selecting him, the
decision is really about who's most suited to meet the challenges of the
tournament. 
***** Romantic Interlude 19 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 37) Romantic Interlude 19
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 38.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


After a particularly rousing fencing lesson involving fighting multiple
opponents at the same time, Sloth kept me back while the others exited the
Chamber of Secrets.  With a wave of her wand, a couch appeared in a back corner
of the Chamber of Secrets.   She took a seat and gestured for me to join her.  

"This has been a lousy year for us having privacy," she noted.  "I've been
meaning to talk to you down here, but stuff keeps coming up."  

I puled out my time turner and gave it a look before saying, "It's ridiculous
we can't seem to find time."  

"None of the wizards are here," said Sloth.  "I know we're all supporting
Harry, and he needs it, but between you and me, how do you really feel about
this tournament thing?"  

"Annoyed," I said almost immediately.  "I had plans this year, and between
Moody's eye and all this tournament stuff, I feel like I have to keep count of
my farts just to keep up the illusion of being human, let alone sneak off into
the girls' bathroom to the Chamber of Secrets, which is the only place secure
enough to do any teaching in.  

"My wand almost gave me away, and while the private wand making lesson was
nice, it was all so focused on maintaining my cover that I couldn't just relax
and enjoy the learning experience.  And now it's just a waiting game until
something unknown happens, and I can't plan a strategy that'll get me past it
and still look like I'm using magic, since I have no idea what it is."  

"Meanwhile, you don't want to talk about all this with the others because you
know Harry needs the support more.  I thought so.  You're a good friend,
Greed."  

"I'm trying really hard," I said.  "After how things ended up with Frank, I've
been trying to be up front about things that'll bother them.  But I'm still
hiding things.  I'm helping the wizards hide themselves, and I'm hiding my
nature from them.  I can't even tell Trelawney my real birthday."  

"You're being honest with your friends," said Sloth.  "Lesson learned.  Keeping
things from people who aren't your friends, who you don't trust, that's
different."  

I smiled at her and said, "You went and got wise on me."  

Sloth wrinkled her nose and said, "That makes it sound like I'm a little old
lady."  

"We use different words for 'wise' and 'old' for a reason," I said with a wry
grin.  "Though you have been looking a lot older than I'm usually interested in
these days."  

"You should know better than to talk that way about a woman," she teased.  "If
you want young, I can give you young."  

Sloth waved her wand and conjured a set of curtains to shield us from view of
the basilisk who was shielding us from view of Moody.  The enchanted pink
earmuffs that protected it from the sound of a rooster's crow would likewise
keep it from hearing us.  

A line of blue light passed from the tip of Sloth's toes to the top of her
head.  She'd transformed into a baby.  Her head was bald, and when she opened
her mouth, I could see she didn't have any teeth.  I smiled.  

"You joke, but I think I like where this is going," I said.  

I clapped my hands and deconstructed the small, black robe that had come along
with her transformation, leaving her lying naked on the couch.  I stared into
her big blue eyes and smiled as I began to run my fingers over her tiny body. 
She broke into a big grin in response.  

I kissed her forehead, then her left eyelid, then her nose, prompting a
giggle.  Once she finished laughing, I kissed her tiny mouth and inserted my
tongue in between her toothless gums.  Her hands reached up to em and touched
my cheeks.  The best she could manage with her tiny arms.  I broke our kiss and
pressed my lips to her chin.  

I was wrapping my fingers around her legs, properly internalizing our current
size difference when I kissed her flat chest a dozen times.  Her whole torso
could fit in my outstretched hand, so groping her butt in this form was a
matter of a few fingertips on each hand.  Sloth couldn't form words in this
body.  The underdeveloped mouth structures couldn't manage it, but she could
giggle, coo, and squeal in delight, all of which she did as I kissed my way
down her belly and parted her labia with my tongue.  

She let out a fussy, grunting sound as I tasted her vaginal juices and started
teasing her clit.  My tongue wouldn't fit very far inside her tight, infant
pussy, but I stretched her out the best I could.  One finger on either side of
her pubic mound held her labia opened while I pleasured my lover orally.  The
signs of climax in a baby were different than I was used to, but once I
realized what was happening, the noises she was making were music to my ears.  

As her body lay limp, and her eyes stared into space slightly glazed, I said,
"Looking at you like that, there's something I just have to try.  You're going
to love this."  

My penis was very hard at this point.  I stood over Sloth so she could get a
good view.  It was thicker around than her thigh at this point.  Her eyes
widened and she stared at it.  I laid it down across her body to demonstrate
the size difference.  The head of my penis touched her chin while the shaft
laid all the way down her chest and stomach.  

Then I lifted it again and put the very top in her toothless mouth.  She
immediately started suckling at it.  I guided her tiny hands to the shaft and
they tried to grip.  Even with both hands, she couldn't get all the way
around.  Next, I guided her feet into position lower on my shaft.  

Sloth used both hands and both feet to keep the tip of my penis in her mouth. 
I supported her head with a hand behind it while she nursed on me, using her
hands, feet, and tongue to try to draw cum out of me.  She didn't have to wait
long, and I soon felt myself spurting a stream of semen into my infant lover's
mouth.  

She swallowed almost mechanically, continuing to suck as more and more cum came
in response to her efforts.  She was overwhelmed with the speed I was
ejaculating into her mouth at before I'd finished producing a normal human
about.  Cum dribbled down her chin as she continued to lick, suck, and gum at
the tip of my penis.  Her grip with hands and feet didn't loosen, which I took
as a signal to keep going.  Like the greedy baby she was now, she didn't stop
until she drank a full bottle's worth of my semen.  

She finally let go and I let myself finish all over her face and chest.  A
moment later, she was squirming and fussing.  Taking a guess, I picked Sloth up
and set her at my shoulder.  I patted her back, making sure a fingertip touched
her oroboros mark each pat.  Then she burped, some cum gurgling out with the
air bubble she'd gotten from drinking too fast.  

Sloth resumed her fourteen year old form when I set her down.  A quick
transmutation handled the cleanup.  She was still staring at me, a big grin on
her face.  

"I was definitely not expecting that," she said.  "Reminds me of the first time
you touched me.  I wasn't expecting you to want me then either."  

"Of course, that time, I had to back off right away and give you some space," I
reminisced with her.  "By now, I figure you can put a stop to anything you
aren't enjoying."  

"Feeling more relaxed?" she asked.  "I know I am."  

"With that on a repeat in my head, I don't think I'll be able to muster the
spare brainpower to worry for a good long time."  

"This place works," said Sloth, "but I still miss our lab.  Any ideas yet about
how we can keep that eye from peeping on us down there?"  

"It'd be a little weird, but I was considering using invisibility cloaks.  I'm
ordering a new set of them for Christmas."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Stress relief is important, especially when you're in a high pressure contest
with an unknown party trying to kill one of your best friends. 
***** The First Task *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 38) The First Task
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


The weekend before the first Triwizard task was a Hogsmeade weekend.  Neville
was still banned from those trips due to misplacing his password list last
year, which Sirius Black used to infiltrate Gryffindor tower.  He'd been
misblamed for that, since the list was stolen by Hermione's pet kneezle cat
Crookshanks at Sirius' request.  We'd gotten the details only long after the
fact through continuing correspondences with Sirius.  

For Ginny and Luna, this would be their first Hogsmeade trip, and we were
looking forward to showing them the sights.  Harry, for his part, was so
frustrated with the way the student body had turned against him, he agreed to
join us, but only while spending the whole trip under his invisibility cloak. 
I offered to pop down to my lab and grab a vial of polyjuice I'd stocked the
previous year just in case, so Neville could use Harry's appearance, but he
said he'd just work on homework up at the castle.  

"Is that really the cloak your father used back in school?" I asked Harry as we
visited the main sights of Hogsmeade.  "My cloak is only seven years old with
all the time turning, but it's already fading visible.  I know I didn't cheap
out on our cloaks."  

"Now that you mention it, it is kind of weird," said Ron.  "Usually an
invisibility cloak would have torn, faded, or been disenchanted as old as it
is, but it's still perfect."  

"I'm sure I remember my father talking about something like this before," said
Luna.  "I'll send him an owl tonight when we get back to the castle."  

"Are you ready to talk to Sirius tonight?" asked Sloth.  

"We should probably pick up a few more dung bombs at Zonko's just in case,"
said Ron, directing our group toward the joke shop.  

After emerging with our goods, we avoided bumping into Rita Skeeter and headed
into the Three Broomsticks.  Ron got us a round of butterbeer, and we settled
in to talk while we drank.  

"I just don't know what's wrong with the Society for the Promotion of Elvish
Welfare," said Hermione for the hundredth time.  

"You can't have an acronym for your organization that makes people think of
throwing up," said Sloth in an exhausted tone.  

"But that's exactly how people ought to feel about the way house elves are
treated," argued Hermione.  

"I still don't know what's wrong with the House Elf Liberation Front," said
Ron, nursing his drink.  

"Because most of them don't want to be liberated," said Sloth.  "Look at how
hard Winky took it."  

"Have we tried the Wizards for the Ethical Treatment of House Elves?" asked
Luna.  

"It'd remind the muggleborns of a group of nutters," said Harry.  "And they're
the most likely to be the ones to see something wrong with the way house elves
are treated."  

It was an argument that never went anywhere, so it was ideal for sharing drinks
over on a lazy autumn afternoon.  Ginny had just come up with the most
ridiculous name yet when we caught sight of Hagrid and Mad-Eye Moody.  Moody
tapped HAgrid on the shoulder and led the groundskeeper over to us.  As Hagrid
offered greetings, Mad-Eye Moody subtly leaned down near Harry's chair and
said, "Nice cloak, Potter," in a low voice.  He grinned as best his scarred
face would allow.  

"Can your eye-?  I mean, can you-?" sputtered Harry.  

"Yeah, it can see through invisibility cloaks," replied Moody, "and it's come
in useful at times, I can tell you."  

"Is there anything that eye can't see?" I asked, frustrated.  

Moody shook his head and replied, "If it came down to it, Death's own cloak
might not be enough.  It's a unique bit of magic.  You'll never find another
eye like it."  

Hagrid said goodbye and both he and Moody left.  With my hopes of escaping the
gaze of that eye under an invisibility cloak dashed, I found myself wishing I
was drinking something stronger than butterbeer.  Harry's voice drew my
attention.  

"Why does Hagrid want me to meet him at midnight?"  

"When did he ask that?" asked Ginny.  

"Just now, when Greed was talking to Moody," replied Harry.  

Hagrid didn't know about the meeting with Sirius, and after some discussion
about whether he should risk going or not, I took off my time turner and passed
it to Harry under his cloak.  There was no point cutting things close.  I
reminded him how to use it safely and emphasized that I was going to need the
magical hourglass back in the morning.  I also advised him to make sure Moody
wasn't nearby with the Marauder's Map so he wouldn't be caught out at night
with my time turner despite his invisibility cloak.  

                                     * * *


The next morning, I got up early and waited in the Great Hall long after I
finished my breakfast.  Luna arrived while I waited, and an owl dropped off a
letter.  It was a response from her father.  She invited me to read it with
her.  Most of the letter was pleasantries and well wishes from father to
daughter.  There was only a small bit in reference to the cloak.  

"I am delighted your friends have taken an interest in the legendary Cloak of
Invisibility.  From what you've told me about them, I never would have guessed
they were the type to seek knowledge of the Deathly Hallows.  If they aren't
already familiar with the tale, I would start them on the Tale of the Three
Brothers."  

At the bottom of the letter was a symbol.  An equilateral triangle
circumscribing a circle, with a line bisecting it from its base to its top tip,
running through the circle.

"Oh, wow," said Luna.  "Harry'll want to hear about this."  

"I don't understand," I admitted.  

Luna turned to me and said, "Professor Moody was right.  Harry has Death's own
Invisibility Cloak."  

Luna hopped up and rushed over to the door as Harry came in accompanied by Ron,
Hermione, Neville, and Ginny.  I got up to follow.  Luna showed them her
father's letter.  

Harry had other things on his mind, however.  Rather than stay and listen to
Luna's explanation about his cloak, he pulled me aside and hissed urgently in
parseltongue, "Dragons!  The first task is dragons!"  

"What?" I hissed back.  

"Hagrid took me out into the forest last night," Harry explained.  "I was under
the cloak so no one could see.  I saw Ron's brother Charlie and a bunch of
other wizards.  They had four full grown dragons for the first trial.  One for
each of us.  We'll each have to get past one."  

"That's a relief," I hissed as I accepted my time turner back and stuffed it
under my robes.  "We can do dragons.  We helped raise Norbert."  

"No, you're not getting it," replied Harry.  "Norbert was a baby.  These are
full grown dragons.  Bigger than Hagrid's house with armored skin most spells
can't penetrate.  It took half a dozen stunning spells each to knock one out,
cast all at the same time.  Sirius thinks I should try and blind it, but I'm
worried that'll just make it mad."  

"Harry, calm down," I said.  

"And Sirius thinks he knows who put my name in the Goblet of Fire.  Turns out
Karkaroff was a Death Eater.  The Ministry let him out because he named names. 
He also agrees that Bertha Jorkins, the Ministry official who went missing, ran
into Voldemort in Albania.  Sirius figures Voldemort found out about the
tournament from her and had his servant enter me in so they could kill me and
make it look like an accident."  

"Okay Harry, what do you need from me?" I asked.  "I can have my suits of armor
keep an eye on Karkaroff when he's in the castle and report anything
suspicious.  We can head down to the Chamber of Secrets, I can turn into a
dragon so you can practice fighting one.  I can help you research spells in the
library.  You name it."  

"I don't suppose you could make me immortal before the first task so the dragon
can't kill me, could you?" Harry half-joked.  

"I could," I said very seriously.  "We have a private place to do the work, the
ingredients other than red stones are dirt cheep and plentiful, and I've got a
huge stock of red stones.  We could go now and you'd be a homunculus before
lunch."  

"Seriously?" asked Harry.  

I nodded.  "There are downsides.  Mostly that you won't age normally anymore so
you'll have to learn enough shape shifting to fake it.  That's why I haven't
offered to do it before now.  Figured you'd want your default forms to be
adults if and when I made you guys immortal.  But if you want it now, we can do
it now."  

Harry weighed his options.  Being fourteen forever was certainly a downside
worth taking seriously.  Ultimately, he said, "You can really do it that fast?"
 

I nodded.  

"Then let's make that plan B.  If I don't come up with something better by
Tuesday."  

We returned to the group in time to hear Ron angrily saying, "Luna, we don't
have time to go chasing after fairy tales.  Harry needs to figure out how to
fight a dragon.  We can talk about this Hallows business after we're sure
Harry'll live to the end of Tuesday."  

                                     * * *


We spent all of Sunday pouring over books on dragons.  Ron, Sloth, and I
assimilated their contents using red stones before passing the books along to
the others at the table, then going to get more off the shelves.  Viktor Krum
was also studying hard in the library.  Harry was sure Karkaroff and Maxime had
warned their champions about the dragons as well.  

Unsurprisingly, none of the books on dragons or dragon handling had suggestions
for fighting them using spells at our grade level.  Ron's brother Charlie was a
fully trained wizard and a specialist in dragons, and even he had been sporting
a nasty burn on the back of his hand when we went to the Quidditch World Cup
with him.  

My strategy had taken shape very quickly.  I had both the combat experience and
the assurance of my own immortality to be able to keep my cool and confront it
directly using just a couple of spells from second year.  For Harry, that would
be too risky, given that he was already near panic.  

We didn't have a solid plan for Harry by the time we had to get to bed that
day, and classes resumed the next day.  At lunch, Harry grabbed the lot of us
and brought us to an empty classroom.  Moody had worked out that we knew from
our library trip and offered Harry some advice that Harry'd managed to
formulate into a functional plan.  He would summon his broomstick and out fly
the dragon.  To do this, though, he needed our help with his summoning charms. 
With a plan A, a plan B, and my offer to make him a homunculus dropped down to
plan C, he was about as calm as a fourteen year old boy told he had to fight a
dragon could be.  

                                     * * *


Tuesday morning, Harry reported that he'd gotten the hang of the summoning
charm last night, so I could save up my human transmutation offer for the
second task.  Sloth promised to record the entire thing with her omniocculars,
both to give us the chance to see ourselves in action, and to analyze our
competition.  She gave me a kiss goodbye for luck as I headed out to the
grounds with the other champions.  

I was led to a small tent where the champions were to be isolated, to keep the
later contestants from stealing ideas from the ones who went first, I
presumed.  Fleur was pale and sitting very still, while Vikor was hunched over
and folded in on himself.  Both looked as nervous as Harry in their own way. 
Ludo Bagman was waiting for us and greeted us as we arrived, then he offered
explanations.  

"Well, now we're all here, time to fill you in.  When the audience has
assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag from which you will
each select a small model of the thing you are about to face.  There are
different, er, varieties you see.  And I have to tell you something else too. 
Ah yes, your task is to collect the golden egg."

After a few minutes, we heard most of the school assemble outside.  Once the
crowd was in place, Bagman offered us the sack, and we each pulled out animated
sculptures of a different dragon breed, each with a number tag set around its
neck.  Bagman explained that the number represented the order we'd face our
dragon in.  I'd drawn dragon number one, the Swedish short snout, and the most
beautiful dragon in the competition with its blue scales.  

As the first champion, I stepped out of the tent when signaled.  A stadium for
the spectators had been magically erected while we waited in the tent.  My blue
scaled Swedish short snout dragon was chained down at the opposite side of the
stadium, wrapping its body protectively around a clutch of eggs, one of which
was the golden egg I had to retrieve.  Cheers came up from about half of the
students gathered when I appeared.  

Searching the stands, I found Sloth and tossed her my dragon model for safe
keeping.  Then I pointed my wand at my throat and said, "Sonorus!"  Using
alchemy on the air in the stadium, I produced sound waves emulating my voice
that filled the stadium.  

"My name is Greed.  I know some of you don't like that Harry and I are in this
tournament.  You think we cheated our way in, and that by being here, we
cheated Hogwarts out of its chance at the Triwizard Cup.  Today we're going to
prove that a Hogwarts fourth year is as good as the best Beauxbatons and
Durmstrang have to offer."  

I muttered "Quietus," as I stopped transmuting the air in case anyone was
paying attention, then I turned to face my dragon.  I marched toward the
creature, my wand at the ready.  A jet of blue fire launched at me from its
mouth.  I muttered the incantation to the flame freezing charm and didn't break
my stride.  The flames flowed around me, but by alchemically controlling the
heat transfer of a skintight layer of air around me, I stepped right out of the
fire closer to the nest.  

My eyes never left the dragon, who, seeing its flames fail to deter me lashed
out to try and snap my head off with its jaws.  I had my wand up and called out
the incantation for the shield charm, and the dragon's head bounced off a disk
of alchemically suspended air.  I flicked my wand left, then right, raising
shields as it tried to use its fore claws to rake at me from the side.  When
those failed, it tried the flame breath again, which again was countered by my
emulation of the flame freezing charm.  

The whole time, I hadn't slowed my stride, and was now in the nest proper.  I
stooped down and scooped up the golden egg in my left arm, and threw another
shield over my shoulder, which deflected another attempt by the dragon to land
a bite.  Then I straighted up, turned around, and started walking back.  

The dragon clearly thought I'd taken one of her actual eggs and flew into a
rage.  Her tail whipped around, to be blocked by a shield on one side.  Her
head snapped toward me from the opposite side a second later.  I reversed my
wand and deflected that strike as well.  Her wings beat and she hovered enough
to slash at me with her powerful hindclaws, which I continued to block, an the
flame breath after was neutralized like the previous attempts.  

Once back at my starting position, unruffled, without a hair out of place, I
raised my gold egg over my head an turned to the judges, to thunderous
applause.  The Hufflepuffs had joined in.  

I took a seat near Sloth, who muttered affectionately, "Show off."  I smiled
back and gave her a kiss while the judges put up their scores.  Then I turned
to watch how the other champions did it.  

Fleur lulled her dragon into an enchanted sleep, retrieving her egg easily and
gracefully, but accidentally getting hit by a jet of flame from a random
snore.  She suffered only minor burns, however, and was able to easily
extinguish herself with a water conjuring charm.  Viktor apparently had the
same idea as Sirius and cursed his dragon right in the eye and retrieved his
egg without taking a scratch while the dragon ran in circles in agony, even
breaking some of its own eggs in its flailing.  Simple,brutal, and effective.  

Harry immediately used the summoning charm we'd been helping him with to
retrieve hsi broomstick.  Once in the air, he zoomed, dodged, feinted, and
outmaneuvered his dragon with all the expertise he showed in Quidditch.  He
avoided the flames expertly, but got a nasty looking gouge on his arm from the
tail.  Used to playing through pain, Harry lured it into an attack, then
swooped down beneath it and claimed his golden egg.  

The school was now united in cheering on its two champions, and Harry's stress
levels seemed to go down for the first time since he'd been chosen as
champion.  It didn't hurt that he was tied with Krum for second place.  My
score had slightly edged them out.  The champions were called into the tent
again for our explanations about the second task.  Ludo Bagman was again
providing.  

"Well done, all of you!  Now, just a few quick words.  You've got a nice long
break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the
morning of February the twenty fourth, but we're  giving you something to think
about in the meantime!  If you look down at those golden eggs you're all
holding, you will see that they open.  See the hinges there?  You need to solve
the clue inside the egg, because it will tell you what the second task is, and
enable you to prepare for it!  All clear?  Sure?  Well, off you go, then!"  

Weall headed back up to the castle, and Harry casually brushed off Rita
Skeeter's attempt to get a post-task interview.  Once at the castle, we split
up and returned to our respective common rooms.  Sloth returned my dragon
figure before we split up.  

                                     * * *


All of Ravenclaw were beside themselves with glee that I'd taken the lead in
the tournament.  The resulting celebration that ran well into the night made
for an opportunity to remind them all that Harry and I were friends first and
competitors second, and that Hogwarts needed to stand united behind both
champions.  

In the course of the festivities, I was convinced to open the egg so my fellow
Ravenclaws could have a crack at the clue.  The rules said I couldn't accept
help from a teacher.  There was nothing in there about not getting help from
other students.  I opened the egg, and it emitted a horrible wailing sound,
like some sort of evil music box. A lot of guesses came in about what it meant,
but no one cracked the puzzle that night.  

Rita Skeeter attempted to ambush Harry into another interview during our next
Care of Magical Creatures class.  When that failed, she feigned interest in the
blast ended skrewts to make Hagrid forget he'd said Dumbledore had banned her
from the grounds.  By the end of the lesson, she'd sweet talked him into an
interview in Hogsmeade about the skrewts.  

I continued to work on my egg during the times between returning to Ravenclaw
tower and lights out.  I tried taking a pepper imp from Honeydukes and
breathing fire on the egg before opening it to see if that changed the sound. 
I put my Swedish short snout model inside the egg in the hopes that would make
a difference.  I tried muffling the sound with a pillow to see if a decrease in
volume would help.  I was no closer to understanding the clue for my efforts.  

Ron's alchemy lessons, by contrast, were coming along well.  By my reckoning,
he'd be finished with soul attachments and ready to move on to human
transmutation by the new year.  

Luna kept guiding our conversations towards Harry's invisibility cloak when we
were all together.  She was convinced it was the invisibility cloak that had
formerly belonged to Death, and that it was part of a set of three objects won
from Death by three brothers.  The other two Hallows were the Elder Wand, said
to make its user invincible in a duel, and the Resurrection Stone, able to call
dead loved ones back from the land of the dead by turning it three times in
your palm.  The story these items came from suggested that the other two
Hallows were a trap and that their powers would eventually lead to ruin for
whoever wielded them.  

With few leads to pursue on my egg, I decided to see what more I could find out
about the Deathly Hallows in the Hogwarts library.  At least confirm or deny
Luna's claims that various stories about wizards, usually dark wizards, with
exceptionally powerful wands all referred to the same artifact surfacing again
and again throughout history.  I amused myself by imagining the Elder Wand
might be able to boost some infinitesimal, undetectable spark of magic in me to
the point that I could cast real spells with it.  

I was sitting at a table going over a chart I'd put together of supposed
wielders of the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, and others that were
supposedly aliases of the Elder Wand when Viktor Krum stormed over toward me
furiously.  His wand was in his hand and ready to fire off a spell in my
direction.  He pointed with his nonwand hand toward one of my papers where I'd
doodled the Deathly Hallows symbol in the corner.  

"What do you think you're doing with that?" Viktor yelled.  All eyes turned in
our direction.  

"What are you talking about?" I asked.  Then, in a motion too quick for the eye
to see, I'd drawn my wand and had it pointed up at him.  "Put your wand down."
 

"We had people like you in Durmstrang," said Viktor, his eyes blazing with
rage.  "You draw the dark lord Grindewald's symbol on your things and think it
makes you seem cool."  

"Grindewald?" I asked, confused as ever.  

"My grandfather died at his hands, and no one is going to go around glorifying
what he did!"  

Krum hit me with the same curse he'd used against his dragon.  I was blinded,
and a searing pain burned in my damaged eyes.  I'd felt worse.  I knew where he
was even blinded, and launched an attack of my own back at him.  I temporarily
overstimulated his nervous system with some intricate alchemy to emulate a
stunning spell.  I heard Krum drop to the ground with a loud thump.  

"Out of the way," I heard Moody's voice call.  He reversed Krum's curse and I
was able to see once again.  Moody turned to Madam Pince and said, "Let
Karkaroff know his student's unconscious on the floor here after trying to hex
his competition.  You come with me to my office, boy."  

Moody led me out to the Defense professor's office.  I recognized a damaged
sneakoscope on a shelf, as well as a number of other devices and objects I
presume to be dark detectors of some sort or another.  I took a seat, and Moody
stretched out his prosthetic equipped leg as he sat down.  

"I saw what happened in there," said Moody, pointing at his magic eye.  "I'll
let Flitwick know you were defending yourself."  

"Thanks," I said.  Moody was a famous Auror, so there was probably no better
person to ask the question that was still running through my mind.  "Who is
Grindewald?"  

"Albus doesn't like talking about it," said Moody chuckling, "but Grindewald's
the reason You-Know-Who was always afraid to confront Dumbledore directly. 
Grindewald was a powerful dark wizard who had all of europe terrorized.  Then
Dumbledore stepped in and put a stop to him.  Beat him soundly in one of the
most spectacular duels of all time.  Why do you ask?"  

"Krum thought I was showing support for Grindewald with this symbol."  I drew
it in the air with my wand, where the lines glowed briefly, then faded. 
"That's why he attacked me."  

"I've never heard of Grindewald being associated with any particular sign. 
Even so, if that really is what he thinks, or even if it isn't, you need to
watch yourself.  You can be sure he isn't about to drop this after he gets hit
with one stunning hex.  I'd suggest you invest in some decent dark detectors,
but mine have been on the fritz since I got here.  The sneakoscope and secrecy
sensor are extra sensitive, and I had to disable them.  The foe glass still
works, but that won't wake you in the dead of night when you really need it."  

"I'll probably look into a set next Hogsmeade weekend to go with my bed stand
sneakoscope," I said.  

"So," he said, changing the subject, "how's the egg coming along?"  

"It isn't," I said.  "No matter what I do, the only thing that happens when I
open it is a loud wailing sound comes out."  

"And of course, the rules say you can't ask for help from your teachers.  No,
I'm not about to offer it anyway.  I will say I don't trust Maxime and
Karkaroff to stick to those rules.  You can bet Fleur and Krum aren't
blundering in the dark.  Now, it does seem to me, Krum's just handed you an
excellent reason to take an interest in where he goes and what he's up to."  

"You're saying I should spy on Krum to find out what he knows about the egg."  

"I'm not saying anything," replied Moody with a grin, "but now that you mention
it, that does sound like a clever idea."  

                                     * * *


"He attacked you?!" shrieked Hermione when I'd explained what happened to the
others.  

"What happened to him?" asked Sloth meaningfully.  

"I just stunned him," I assured her.  

"Why would he attack you?" asked Ron.  "If he went around hexing everyone who
bet him, we'd have heard about nasty things happening to the Irish Quidditch
team."  

"He said it was because the Hallows symbol was used by Grindewald," I said. 
"He thought I was showing support for the wizard who killed his grandfather."  

"He didn't give you a chance to explain?" asked Hermione.  

"It'd be like if he was wandering around with the Dark Mark on his things,"
said Harry.  "We'd probably jump to conclusions too."  

"What would Grindewald have to do with the Deathly Hallows?" asked Luna.  "They
aren't dark artifacts."  

"His name was on a list I was working on of possible holders of the Elder
Wand," I said.  "It's what I was working on when Krum attacked me."  

"You want to clear this up quick, Greed," said Ginny.  "You don't want him to
think you're a dark lord wannabe."  

"I was planning to next chance I get," I said.  "Grindewald isn't the first
evil man who took a positive symbol and tainted it through dark deeds done
under its banner."  

"He'll probably be avoiding you," said Harry.  

"Or going straight after you the first chance he gets," added Neville who
looked worried for me.  

"We're in the tournament together.  I'll see him eventually," I said.  

"Speaking of the tournament, how's the egg thing going?" asked Sloth.  

"I've got a new angle to try," I said.  "I'll let you know if it pans out."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Information about the Deathly Hallows coming up right at the end of the series
always felt unnatural to me.  If the stories were always there, there was no
good reason for them not to be in the wizarding world's idioms and generally
come up in conversation.  With Krum's history with Grindewald and the symbol,
it seemed only natural for fourth year to be the point information starts
coming out about them, even if the whole story takes a bit longer. 
***** The Yule Ball *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 39) The Yule Ball
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Ravenclaw tower had the best view of all the house common rooms.  It was
trivial to set up a stand to mount my omniocculars on, pointed toward the
Durmstrang ship.  With the other Ravenclaws properly on my side for a change, I
could leave it set up all day with a do not disturb sign.  I could review the
footage each evening at high speed and slow it down if anything interesting
happened.  

I still hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Krum when an announcement was made in
Charms.  Professor Flitwick explained that as part of the tournament
festivities, there would be a Yule Ball, which was a formal party with
dancing.  All students fourth year and up were allowed to attend, as could
younger guests if they came as the date of an older student.  It was to take
place on the evening of Christmas day.  

The Triwizard champions and their dance partners traditionally opened the
ball.  Hopefully, that meant I could talk to Krum there if I couldn't catch him
before that point.  When we gathered for fencing that evening, I took a quick
tally and smiled, noting we had an even gender balance.  Apparently, they'd
gotten announcements themselves.  

"If you want to go to the ball with them, just ask them," Sloth was saying to
Hermione and Ginny, exasperated.  "If you wait for them to make a move, who
knows how long you'll be waiting?  Greed didn't get it until I stripped naked
in front of him."  

Ginny and Hermione looked scandalized.  Sloth was just rolling her eyes.  

"To be fair," I said, "you did that to try and win an argument about how
unattractive you were and how no one would ever want to be with you."  

Sloth blushed at the reminder, and I smiled and gave her a quick peck on the
lips.  

"It turns out me and Harry having dates to the ball is mandatory," I said,
wrinkling my nose at the idea of mandatory dating.  "Would you like to come
with me?"  

"You didn't think I'd let you take anyone else, did you?" asked Sloth.  "Of
course I'll go with you."  

"We can finally make up for missing out on the dancing at Sir Nicholas'
deathday party," I said.  

"Now, you two," said Sloth, turning on Ginny and Hermione.  "I'm not going to
listen to you both complaining all the way till Christmas about not getting
asked.  Both of you, march up to them this instant and ask them to the ball."  

"But-" started Ginny.  

"Now!"" snapped Sloth.  

Ginny went over to Harry, and Hermione approached Ron.  I turned to Sloth and
asked, "Have they been annoying you that bad?"  

"You have no idea," replied Sloth.  "I don't know what books Hermione's been
reading, but she's got it in her head that you get a boy to like you by
flirting with everyone but him.  Like if he sees you dating someone else, it'll
make him want you more, instead of doing the reasonable thing and backing off
and being happy for you."  

"Wow, that is bad advice," I agreed.  

"And she was trying to drag Ginny along in that scheme," said Sloth.  "I keep
hearing about it because they keep including me in 'girl talk'."  

"Actually, I was thinking about asking someone else," Harry was saying
apologetically.  

"Who?" asked Ginny.  

"Cho.  Cho Chang from Ravenclaw," replied Harry.  

"When you see her, can you ask for my History of Magic essay back?" asked Luna.
 

Harry blinked and asked, "She's in fifth year.  Why would she have your History
of Magic essay?"  

"Nargles," said Luna.  "Ravenclaw tower's busy with them.  They stole my paper
when I was asleep and hid it in one of her books.  I saw it there the next day
and tried to explain, but I don't think she believed me."  

Harry's face hardened.  "I'll get your paper back," he said.  Then he turned to
Ginny and asked, "Still want to go to the ball with me?"  

Ginny smiled.  "More than ever.  I'll come with you when you talk to Cho."  

Neville looked around the room briefly, then walked over to Luna and said, "Do
you want to come to the ball with me?"  

Luna looked at Neville for a long moment, then said, "I didn't think I'd get to
go.  I'll write home and have some dress robes owled in."  

"Speaking of which," I said, clapping my hands.  I transmuted a small pendant
in the shape of a key with a transmutation circle on it.  I set a red stone
fragment in an open space and handed it to Luna.  "Touch this to your trunk and
it'll be sealed so no unlocking charm can open it.  Touch it again to unlock
it.  Think of it as an early Christmas present.  To keep out the Nargles."  

                                     * * *


Harry and Ginny both got detentions after retrieving Luna's paper.  Cho'd been
subjected to a particularly nasty hex from Ginny at some point in the
confrontation.  Both agreed it was worth it.  

Viktor Krum wasn't coming back into the castle to read in the library since our
brief duel.  My surveillance of the Durmstrang ship showed he was still alive
and in good health.  He'd taken to stepping out on dock, stripping to his
trunks, and diving into the cold December water of the lake.  I verified none
of the other Durmstrang students were taking dips in the lake, and that no one
else in Ravenclaw had noticed him doing it before the dragons.  This was the
sort of clue I'd been looking for.  

On a night I'd have to be awake at midnight for Astronomy lessons anyway, I
slippe on my new invisibility cloak, grabbed my golden egg, and made my way
down through the castle to where the hidden boat landing the first year
students arrived in was.  I folded my cloak next to the water, set my wand and
time turner on top, and shifted my clothes to a set of black, skintight
swimming trunks.  Then I slipped into the ice cold water with my egg.  

Viktor had spent a lot of time underwater, so I allowed myself to sink beneath
the surface, then I opened my egg.  Opening it underwater, the shrieking,
wailing sound was modulated into a comprehensible song.  

"Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll surely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour, the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it wont' come back."  

When I surfaced, I quickly verified that my cloak, wand, and time turner were
still there.  They hadn't been stolen while I listened to the message.  Still,
something I valued had been taken or would be taken before the second trial. 
I'd have an hour to search underwater or whatever the beings who made this
recording took would be gone forever.  

This was far worse than the dragons.  I'd taken some swimming lessons, but I
still wasn't great in the water.   I didn't have to breathe, but that didn't
excuse me from giving an explanation for how I was able to stay underwater so
long anyway.  And if I couldn't manage it inside the time limit, it wasn't just
losing points int he tournament.  I'd lose something important to me.  

I passed the details along to Harry the next time we met up, and suggested he
confirm his egg said the same thing mine had.  After a quick trip to the
bathroom, he had confirmed it was the same message.  

"I may need that homunculus body after all," said Harry.  "You don't need to
breathe, do you?"  

"What about using Gillyweed?" asked Neville.  

"What?" asked Harry.  

"It's a water plant," said Neville.  "Witches in the Mediterranean use them to
dive underwater.  The effects last about an hour.  I've been reading a book
with them in it."  

"That's brilliant, Neville," said Harry.  

"We should order some extras an practice with them," I suggested.  "Get used to
the effects before we have to use it for real."  

"We also need to get it without Krum or Fleur seeing us do it," added Ron. 
"Otherwise, Hogwarts loses its edge."  

"There's a Hogsmeade weekend before the second task," noted Hermione.  "We can
have the Gillyweed sent to the post office and pick it up there."  

"Oh, incidentally," I said, "I think Dumbledore has the Elder Wand."  

"Greed," said Hermione, "that's a fairy tale.  We've been over this.  The
Deathly Hallows aren't real."  

"Grindewald believed in them," I said.  "At the very least, he thought he'd
found the Elder Wand."  

"But he didn't," said Ron.  "He lost a duel with Dumbledore and was locked away
in Nurmengard."  

"And Dumbledore's wielded the wand Grindewald used to carry ever since.  And
it's made of elder wood."  

"The whole point of the Elder Wand is that it always wins duels," argued Ron. 
"If Grindewald had it, Dumbledore wouldn't have won."  

"Unless there was more to that duel than we know," I said.  "If he found a way
to trick Grindewald into fighting with another wand..."  

"I can't believe this," exclaimed Hermione.  "You're supposed to be the
sensible one, Greed."  

"Let's say you're right," said Harry.  "That's two Hallows accounted for. 
Where's the third?  What the Resurrection Stone does is unique.  The Cloak and
the Wand are just really good versions of regular objects.  You find the
Resurrection Stone, no one's going to doubt you."  

                                     * * *


The promise of the Yule Ball resulted in far more students staying for the
Christmas holidays than usual.  Though we didn't have the castle all to
ourselves, we still had a lot of fun.  The decorations were even more
spectacular than usual in an attempt to impress our visitors from abroad.  

Fleur had been having a hard time settling in to the castle all year.  She
clearly missed Beauxbatons, and spent much of her time comparing Hogwarts to
her school unfavorably.  It was posturing, no worse than what we were doing,
but her veela heritage caused most of the boys to ingore the criticisms
entirely (or back her up in an effort to gain her favor) and most of the girls
to take extreme offense to every little thing she said.  I was so glad Snape
had drilled in the occlumency lessons so hard last year.  

On Christmas day, I awoke to find a stack of gifts.  The house elves, as usual,
had delivered them with care and stealth.  Molly Weasley had once again
provided a hideous sweater.  It was good to be reminded I was considered as
good as family after helping rescue Ginny in second year, but the woman had
terrible fashion sense.  That was when I remembered that she had visited Diagon
Alley on my behalf while I was at the World Cup, and picked out dress robes for
me.  As I suspected, they were the same horrible orange as the sweater.  

Fortunately, I was in fact a talented alchemist, and had little trouble putting
together some new formal wear.  Something I hoped Sloth would appreciate, and
in which I could make a statement at the ball proper.  

Other gifts included a book of wizard fairy tales, an assortment of seeds form
various magical plants from Neville, and a sampling of Fred and George's
inventions including improved ton tongue toffees and canary creams that briefly
turn the eater into a canary.  The effects of the later lasted just long enough
to get what had just happened before you molted your feathers and returned to
normal.  

After a long and vicious snowball fight, we all returned to our rooms to get
changed before returning to the Great Hall.  Sloth had apparently had the same
reaction to whatever Mrs. Weasley had picked out for her as I did.  We turned
heads as we made our way through the crowd of students arm in arm.  

Sloth had taken her hair out of its usual braids and allowed it to cascade down
her back.  She'd transmuted herself a long, sleeveless red dress and a pair of
full length gloves to match.  Her shoes were perfectly shined black flats.  

I had donned an appropriately sized reproduction of my old Amestrian military
uniform, with all rank insignia removed.  I felt both formally attired, and at
ease in the blue, gold trimmed outfit.  My pistol holster had been replaced
with a wand holster without impacting the uniform's look.  The only thing
missing was my silver pocket watch, which I'd turned in when I left the
military.  

"What are you wearing?" asked Harry, who was in green dress robes and standing
off to the side.  

"Traditional Amestrian formal wear," I said, prompting a giggle from Sloth.  

The delegation from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived, and everyone but the
champions and their dates were sent in to the Great Hall.  We were sent in as
part of a formal procession and directed to the head table with the judges. 
Barty Crouch was absent, with Percy Weasley taking his place.  It seemed Barty
Crouch had taken ill.  I made sure to take a seat next to Viktor Krum.  

"Viktor, I want to apologize," I said as I sat down.  "I honestly had no idea
that symbol was associated with Grindewald.  I looked up what he did after the
fight, and I can say I want nothing to do with him.  Will you accept my
apology?"  

"I am sorry too," said Krum, accepting my offered hand and shaking it.  "I
assumed the worst and did not let you explain.  I have given my school a bad
name with my outburst."  

"Let's start over as friends," I suggested.  "That is what this tournament is
about, isn't it?"  

"I would like that very much," replied Krum with relief in his voice.  He'd
clearly been agonizing over our scuffle as much as I had.  

With that awkwardness behind me, I could relax and enjoy dinner.  Rather than
the usual method of the tables filling with food and us filling our own plates,
we'd been given menus and speaking our order to our plate caused our requested
item to appear.  Sloth happily ordered pork chops and mashed potatoes, and I
ordered the roast.  

After everyone had eaten, it was time for the dancing.  Dumbledore had hired a
famous wizarding band called the Weird Sisters.  The champions and partners
were to open the dancing with a slow waltz.  I paid attention to the other
dancers only to the extent needed to avoid colliding with them.  

Song after song, Sloth and I remained on the dance floor as a permanent
feature.  We didn't get tired, or sore, or thirsty, so there was little reason
to stop dancing.  Neither of us were very good at it on a technical level, but
we made up for it with enthusiasm, and by the close of the ball, our dancing
had improved noticeably.  

It felt right, having my arms around her, dancing close, and showing affection
in public.  As though we had a right to have our feelings acknowledged. 
Officially, tonight was about the tournament and our foreign guests,but from
the moment I managed to patch things up with Krum, the evening was all about
Sloth and I.  

                                     * * *


A couple days after Christmas, our group had vanished up our fencing lessons in
the Chamber of Secrets.  Headless Nick had floated back up to the castle
proper.  Hermione stopped the others from leaving.  

"Have a look," she said, holding up an official looking document.  "I'm
officially registered as an animagus."  She turned briefly into a large bear to
show it off.  On resuming human form, she said, "We've all been working hard
all year while you've been busy with that triwizard stuff.  Though I am the
only one who registered."  

Luna took the form of a silvery moth.  Ron became a red furred ferret.  Ginny
became a falcon.  Neville just stood back, looking embarrassed.  

"What's wrong?" Harry asked him.  

"Well, this is really advanced transfiguration, and it can go really wrong if
you don't do it perfectly, and you know I still have trouble with switching
spells," Neville mumbled his way through a list of excuses.  

"It's okay, Neville," said Harry.  "Most witches and wizards never attempt
this.  My dad didn't try until he was in fifth year."  

"Speaking of dangerous techniques that can go horribly wrong if you don't get
them just right," I said, "we'll be starting in on your next major set of
alchemy lessons tonight."  

The others trickled out, with congratulations all around, leaving Ron and I
alone.  I double checked all the security, then turned to him.  

"Okay, you've finished everything you need to know about soul attachments. 
Today's the day we start on human transmutation.  The things you'll be learning
represent the greatest taboo in Amestrian alchemy.  In Amestris, performing a
human transmutation is treated the same way using the unforgivable curses is
treated here."  

"Why?" asked Ron.  

"Mostly because it's difficult, dangerous, costly,and doesn't work right for
its intended purpose.  Usually, when an alchemist attempted this, they would be
trying to bring back the dead.  It never works for that purpose, instead giving
birth to a whole new life, utterly inhuman and in constant agony."  

"So why are you teaching me it?" asked Ron.  

"I can not," I offered.  "As always, you're free to stop at any time.  But I'm
telling you this as a warning.  If you don't have a mind and soul ready to
attach when you perform your human transmutation, the result will still be
alive, sentient, and more often than not, resentful of you for creating it. 
It's how Sloth was born.  

"My method is different, but still carries a lot of the same risks as the
traditional method.  Under my process, you create a body with no mind to speak
of, attaching an existing mind and soul just like you would bind a soul to
armor."  

"Okay, you keep bringing up risks.  Are you ready to explain that?"  

"Once you've gathered the right ingredients and activated the circle, you will
find yourself before what we call the Gate.  It's a set of massive double doors
in a place flooded with light.  The doors will open and tiny imp like creatures
with purple eyes and bodies made of shadow tear pieces of your body off you. 
You'll have a hard time noticing this, because while the Gate is opened, your
mind will be flooded with all the knowledge in the universe.  What we call the
Truth.  

"That sounds like a good thing, and it is, but it's also way more than a human
mind can handle.  You can only retain an infinitesimally small portion of the
whole.  One thing alchemists retain after exposure to the Truth is the
knowledge of how to clasp your hands together and make an array with your body,
circulating the energy within.  It's how I transmute without a stone or a
circle, just by clapping."  

"Wait, can we go back to these creatures?" asked Ron with alarm.  

"I don't know what they are," I admitted.  "Some theorize they're the souls of
the dead.  Others posit they're a kind of larval form of homunculi.  Whatever
they are, they have the ability to break down your body parts with a touch. 
They can be faught, but you won't be able to on your first exposure to the
Gate.  They will take something from you.  There is a risk that they will take
everything."  

"This sounds really dangerous."  

"It is.  This is why I was so insistent you not attempt bio alchemy on a human
being.  Human transmutation summons the Gate.  There are other ways too, but
this is usually what alchemists are doing when they see the Gate.  

"In any case, Tom wants a homunculus body for himself.  If you have a
Philosopher's Stone, you can make one without seeing the Gate.  With the Stone
unavailable, the circle I'm going to teach you is the only way."  

"Okay, so I make a homunculus based on myself, attach my soul to it, and I'm
immortal like you.  Is that it?"  

"You can do it alone like that.  I did.  But it's a lot easier and safer if
you've got someone with you.  When a homunculus is created, its body is put
together all wrong.  Bones out of alignment.  Mismatched organs.  Raw, exposed
nerves everywhere.  It's absolute agony, worse than you can imagine.  You don't
gain a human form until you eat enough red stones.  It's a lot easier if
someone else attaches your soul and feeds you red stones."  

"After that, as long as I've got red stones in me, I can regenerate and come
back from anything."  

"Even if you run out of red stones, you won't properly die.  You just won't
regenerate the fatal injury.  If someone subsequently puts a red stone in your
mouth and forces it down your throat, you'll regenerate back to life.  

"Only two things can kill a homunculus permanently.  Empty them of red stones
and deliver a fatal wound in the presence of the remains of the human they were
based on, or sacrifice them in a special transmutation circle that summons the
Gate."  

"So, once I learn this, I can make all my friends and family homunculi.  We're
only waiting on me, Harry, and the others because we'll stop ageing once we do
this."  

"There is another concern," I said.  "Tommy tried to possess me and Sloth in
first year.  We kept him out with occlumency, but if we construct homunculus
bodies for anyone without the training to resist, we might as well be handing
him his resurrection on a silver platter."  

                                     * * *


Viktor Krum was back at his usual post at the Hogwarts library after our
reconciliation at the Yule Ball.  I made a point to stop by and talk to him. 
It turned out, he was rather sensitive about his accent, which was why one
never heard him talk much.  With a little encouragement, he opened up and
proved a very friendly person.  He'd been impressed by Harry's flying against
the dragons and had been shocked when he'd been told I took on my dragon head
on with just a flame freezing charm and a shield charm.  

His English wasn't good enough for much subtlety, but he kept bringing the
conversation around to Hermione.  It turned out he had a crush on her.  He'd
wanted to ask her to the Yule Ball, but hid away in the Durmstrang ship after
our duel, convinced she'd hate him for attacking one of her friends.  I agreed
to introduce them properly.  

Ron was conflicted, but after being assured by Hermione, Viktor Krum was
socializing with our group for the rest of the holiday.  We learned a lot about
Durmstrang from him once he got talking.   At first, it seemed he was having
trouble pronouncing Hermione's name, but after Sloth called him out on the fact
that no fully trained wizard should be having this much trouble pronouncing
unfamiliar words, given how important pronunciation was in spell casting, he
admitted he was putting on.  He just thought Hermione was cute when she was in
teaching mode.  

Krum was never let in on our secrets, which helped Ron feel more secure, though
whenever Krum was trying to get Hermione's attention, Ron would become openly
affectionate with her.  Krum eventually got the hint.  Fortunately, we were
able to put all other hard feelings behind us, to the point that Ron even asked
for an autograph.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
The relationship drama in the original was never something I enjoyed, so this
is more or less the last we'll be seeing of it in this fic. 
***** Coming Out *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 40) Coming Out
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
                                     * * *


The first day of the new term, I got a surprise when I arrived at Care of
Magical Creatures.  Hagrid wasn't there.  Substituting was a grey haired witch
named Professor Grubbly-Plank, who deflected all our questions about where
Hagrid was.  Her lesson was on unicorns, and she brought the girls into a pen
where she'd had one tied up.  

Once she was out of earshot, Draco triumphantly provided the answer to what had
happened to Hagrid in the form of a copy of the Daily Prophet.  An article by
Rita Skeeter claimed Hagrid was half giant, insinuating that his giantess
mother had been on Voldemort's side during the war, and claimed with quotes
from Draco that "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say
anything."  

Draco was gloating that Hagrid would either be fired or resign in disgrace
after this, and that now that people knew he was half giant, he was too ashamed
to show his face.  Draco escaped being cursed to within an inch of his life by
Professor Grubbly-Plank drawing our attention and reminding us we were being
watched by the faculty.  

After Divination that day, Harry, Ron, Neville, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Sloth,
and I went down to Hagrid's hut and knocked on the door.  Fang could be heard
inside, scratching at the door.  

"Hagrid, it's us!" called out Harry.  

No amount of calling for him led to him opening the door.  At length, I took my
wand and called, "Hagrid, we're coming in!  Alohamora!"  

Blue light shone from the door frame, and the door clicked open.  Fang nearly
tackled us with excitement, then he whined and led us to where Hagrid lay in
bed under a pile of blankets.  The pile shook with the violent sobs from the
enormous man.  

"Get out!" called Hagrid between sobs.  "You don't want to be seen with a half
giant!  I already handed Dumbledore my resignation.  You'll have a proper
teacher from now on."

"Hagrid, you know we've never cared that you're half giant," said Hermione.  

"You're our friend, Hagrid," said Harry.  "Look what I've got for relatives. 
Look at the Dursleys."  

"I don't know what kind of person your mother was," said Sloth, "but she
probably wasn't worse than my father.  You're you, and we all know you're a
good person."  

"Not everyone feels that way," said Hagrid, tears running down his cheeks. 

"Almost no one likes me," said Luna without a trace of self-pity.  As though
she was simply stating a fact.  "The people who do like you count more than the
people who don't."  

"You're not half giant," said Hagrid miserably.  

"I'm not human either," I said, shifting to my black haired, pale skinned
homunculus form.  I put my face near Hagrid's so he could see my pointed teeth
and my purple, slitted eyes.  "In Amestris, homunculi are considered to be a
product of the most taboo art.  When I became a homunculus in order to heal an
injury that wouldn't heal any other way, every friend I had turned against me,
and more than one tried to kill me."  

"They really did that?" asked Hagrid.  

"I saw some of it," confirmed Sloth, who had taken her homunculus form as well.
 

"We're not going to turn against you, Hagrid," said Neville.  

"You all really mean that?" asked Hagrid, sitting up and taking in all of us
standing there.  

"Of course we mean it, Hagrid," said Harry.  

"Awe, you're right.  You're all right.  I been stupid.  My old dad woulda been
ashamed of the way I've been behaving," said Hagrid, resolutely wiping his
tears.  It took him a long moment before he regained his composure.  Finally,
he got up and retrieved a photograph.  

"Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I?" asked Hagrid.  "Here.  That
was taken just after I got into Hogwarts.  Dad was dead chuffed.  Thought I
might not be a wizard, see, 'cause me mum... well anyway.  'Course, I never was
great shakes at magic, really, but at least he never saw me expelled.  Died,
see, in me second year.  

"Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went.  Got me the
gamekeeper job.  Trusts people, he does.  Gives 'em second chances.  That's
what sets him apart from the other heads, see.  He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts
so long as they've got the talent.  Knows people can turn out okay even if
their families weren't, well, all that respectable.  But some don't understand
that.  There's some who'd always hold it against you.  There's some who'd even
pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up and say, 'I am what I am,
and I'm not ashamed.'  

"'Never be ashamed,' my old dad used to say, 'there's some who'll hold it
against you, but they're not worth bothering with.'  And he was right.  I've
been an idiot.  I'm not bothering with her no more, I promise you that.  Big
bones, I'll give her big bones."  

"Your father was a wise man," I said, looking at the photo of a small man
perched on the shoulder of an enormous eleven year old Hagrid.  

"Look at you two," said Hagrid.  "Hogwarts champions.  You know what I'd love? 
I'd love one of you to win.  I really would.  It'd show 'em all, you don't have
to be pureblood to do it.  You don't have to be ashamed of what you are.  It'd
show 'em Dumbledore's the one who's got it right, letting anyone in as long as
they can do magic.  How you doing with those eggs?"  

"Solved," said Harry, even as I inwardly winced at Hagrid's line about being
able to do magic.  

"That's my boy," beamed Hagrid.  "You show 'em.  Beat 'em all."  

"You're going to tell Dumbledore you want to stay on, aren't you?" asked
Hermione.  

"Yeah,"said Hagrid.  "I need to go talk to him."  

"When you're back, can we keep on with the unicorns?" asked Luna.  
                                     * * *


Hagrid proved extremely knowledgeable about unicorns in our subsequent lessons,
and he was doing better at ignoring the barns from Draco and his cronies as
well as the hate mail that followed Rita Skeeter's article.  

In the lead up to our next Hogsmeade weekend, we tried to get Professor
McGonagall to lift Neville's ban, but she was adamant.  We promised to bring
him back some Honeydukes sweets and some stuff from Zonko's joke shop.  He just
reminded us to pick up the gilly weed.  

In the Three Broomsticks, Ludo Bagman took Harry aside while the rest of us
settled in at a table.  Once Harry returned and reported Bagman had offered to
help him solve the egg, we chatted a bit more.  Apparently, Crouch hadn't
recovered from whatever illness he'd contracted that made him miss the Yule
Ball.  

As we chatted, Rita Skeeter entered the room, talking to her camera man about
digging up dirt on Ludo Bagman.  

"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" yelled Harry angrily at her.  

"Harry," said Rita, "how lovely.  Why don't you come and join-"  

"I wouldn't come near you with a ten foot broomstick," snapped Harry.  "What
did you have to do that to Hagrid for, eh?"  

"Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry.  I'm merely doing my-"  

"Who cares if he's half giant?" yelled Harry, drawing looks from the entire
bar.  "There's nothing wrong with him!"  

Rita Skeeter recovered her equilibrium quickly and pulled out her quill and
parchment.  "How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know,
Harry?  The man behind the muscles?  Your unlikely friendship and the reasons
behind it.  Would you call him a father substitute?"  

Hermione sprang to her feet and looked as though she was about to throw her
butterbeer mug at Rita's head.  I caught her arm before she did anything she'd
regret.  My eyes turned to Skeeter and I said, "What's the point of doing an
interview if you're just going to make up both sides anyway like you did last
time, you hack?"  

I'd hit a nerve.  Somehow, this worthless scandalmonger's soft spot was
questioning her journalistic integrity.  We all got up and left.  

"She'll be after you next, Greed," said Ron in a worried voice.  

"You know what," I said, "let her.  It's like Hagrid said, I'm not ashamed of
what I am.  If I'm honest, I'm getting really sick of hiding anyway, so if she
figures it out, good."  
                                     * * *


Rita Skeeter's article came out the day before the second task.  The eight of
us were seated outside around a copy of the Daily Prophet laughing at what
she'd written about me.  

"A goblin!  She thinks I'm a goblin!"  I laughed heartily.  

"I love the part where you're hanging around me to learn my secrets," said
Ron.  "She couldn't have got that more wrong if she'd tried."  

"Still," said Hermione seriously, "she turned up a lot of evidence.  If I
didn't know the truth, I'd wonder."  

"I know anyone who bothered to look would realize Amestris isn't on any map in
this world," said Sloth.  

"Professor Flitwick probably isn't happy," noted Luna.  "She's accusing him of
helping you blend in on account of being part goblin himself."  

"Goblins impersonating wizards and using wands is a big deal," noted Neville. 
"Someone int he Ministry of Magic's bound to look into it now this is
published."  

"They can look into all they want," I said.  "I'm not a goblin, and any test
they care to give will show that."  

We clammed up as Fred and George Weasley approached.  They glanced at the paper
and smirked.  

"Oh no, it's the goblin spy!" exclaimed Fred in mock horror.  

"I say we beg for mercy, Fred," said George.  

"What do you want?" asked Ron.  

"McGonagall sent us," explained Fred.  "We're supposed to take you, Hermione,
and Sloth down to her office."  

"What's she want?" asked Sloth.  

"Didn't say," said George.  "We're just the messengers."  

"I'll see you at the second task tomorrow," said Sloth, waving goodbye.  
                                     * * *


I stayed up all night in the Ravenclaw common room thinking.  The truth was,
all this secrecy really was getting to me.  There were people in the Ministry
of Magic who could talk about my and Sloth's arrival in this world.  Yes, Rita
Skeeter's article was nonsense and speculation, but it would lead to
questions.   We'd originally hidden our nature and origins as part of the plan
to protect the Philosopher's Stones.  It was in service to that goal that the
people who knew the truth were convinced to remain silent.  

Now, not only were the Philosopher's Stones gone, but Petigrew had returned to
Voldemort carrying the truth of our nature with him.  Really, there was just no
point hiding what we were or where we came from anymore.  Well, there was one
reason.  Sloth was enjoying getting the high school experience Nina never lived
long enough to have.  

It was very clear by now that Albus Dumbledore had the power to make decisions
about Hogwarts enrollment and employment.  There were checks on his power in
that regard, but clearly the majority of the decision making power laid with
him.  And he already knew Sloth and I were inhuman shape shifters from beyond
the Gate.  But did he know we were muggles?  

Lupin had figured out something was strange about our powers, and it was
unlikely Dumbledore hadn't gotten even a hint of that fact during our
occlumency lessons.  Ollivander's comments about my wand would've just been
further confirmation.  If Dumbledore did already know, would he be able to
exert enough influence to keep me enrolled in Hogwarts if I came out?  Would he
be willing to do so?  

I turned the problem over and over in my mind.  In the end, it kept coming back
to one point.  The truth was going to come out sooner or later no matter what I
did.  If I got ahead of it, I could at least try to control the spin.  
                                     * * *


I arrived at the lake early.  The stadium seating from the first task was set
up there, and students were already trickling in.  Dumbledore, Maxime,
Karkaroff, and Bagman were already there.  Percy was saving  Barty Crouch's
seat for him.  I went up to the judges' table.  

"Do you think it would be possible for me to say a few words before we start?"
I asked.  

"Quite the showman, aren't you," said Ludo Bagman happily.  "That was quite a
doozy you gave at the first task."  

Percy gave me a disapproving look.  

"It's just," I said, "after that Daily Prophet article, I wanted to set the
record straight."  

"Of course, of course," said Bagman.  "Though if you want a bit of advice, I
personally find addressing these sorts of rumors only lends them credibility."
 

I locked eyes with Professor Dumbledore, and brought what I intended to do as
close to the surface of my thoughts as I could manage.  I felt the probing of
his legilimency.  Then he said, "If you're sure about this, Marcus.  Know that
I shall do everything in my power to keep you at school should you still wish
to continue at Hogwarts.  You have been a model student, and it would diminish
us to lose you."  

"Thank you, Professor," I said.  No objections were raised from the other
judges.  I turned and faced the crowd.  Fleur and Viktor had arrived while I
conversed with the judges.  

"Ladies and gentlemen," I said.  I didn't amplify my voice, but I did speak
loudly enough to make myself heard.  The crowd quieted and listened.  "I have
been graciously allowed to say a few words to address the recent Daily Prophet
rumors that I am a goblin spy.  Those rumors are false, based on speculation
and poor journalism, but they do contain a grain of truth."  

That led to some double takes in the audience and people listening more
intently.  

"I am not a wizard.  While I was born human, the body I currently inhabit is an
artificial construct called a homunculus.  And while those of you who've had
classes with me know I have powers, it isn't conventional magic, but a set of
techniques from my homeland that any muggle could learn to do.  

"As to my homeland, it really is called Amestris.  The reason you won't find it
on any map is because it is located in another world.  Four years ago,  arrived
in this world through a portal inside the Ministry of Magic.  At that time, I
testified to members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement under the
effects of veritasyrum.  

"I came to this world a peaceful explorer, and since arriving I have had the
unparalleled privilege to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  I
have made so many friends and learned so much in my time here.  It is my desire
to continue learning with all of you, and I regret waiting so long before
revealing the truth."  

I'd adopted my pale skinned homunculus form about halfway through the speech. 
There was a general rumble of questioning noises building now that I'd finished
speaking.  Suddenly, Harry burst onto the scene at a dead run.  He was panting
and gasping for breath, but he gripped my shoulders.  

"Ron..." gasped Harry.  "... Ron and Hermione... I can't find them... They've
been taken!"  

Harry's eyes were wide and fearful, and suddenly the one part of the riddle I'd
missed made sense.  The same panicked expression on Harry's face was now
mirrored in mine.  I recalled the final lines of the song, "But past an hour,
the prospect's black.  Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."  

I didn't wait for the announcement or the whistle.  I bolted for the water. 
Bagman blew his whistle and tried to recall me, but I wasn't listening.  I
sprinted along the surface of the lake, supported by the transmutation circles
on the soles of my shoes boosting the surface tension.  

Bagman quickly sent the others off just as I leapt into the air and turned into
a dolphin mid-leap, my wand clutched between my teeth.  I swam as fast as my
aquatic body could carry me, deep into the murky water.  The water was dark,
and even if I hadn't had my wand in my mouth, I had no practice with
echolocation.  

The original plan had been to use gillyweed, but once I realized the stakes, I
couldn't waste the precious seconds it would take to kick in.  Now I had a
scant hour to search the lake for wherever Sloth and the others were being
held.  I rocketed through the water in an improvised search pattern, but the
fact that I could only see maybe ten feet in any given direction meant I had
little hope of searching the entire lake in the allotted time.  I briefly
thought of my time turner, which was locked in my trunk.  If I'd known what
they'd taken, I never would have left it  behind.  Still, if I stuck to
systematic search pattern, I could retrieve the pendant afterward and continue
the search within the same hour.  

A long fingered hand reached out of a camouflaging cluster of seaweed and
grabbed my tail.  I'd swum into a nest of grindylows.  We'd studied the
creatures in last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor
Lupin.  You could escape them by breaking their grip.  Turning back and
fighting them off would take time, though.  

An alchemy array drew itself along my dolphin body, and I glowed blue when it
activated.  I'd studied grindylows.  I knew the body composition of the water
demons.  In the light of my alchemy, all the grindylows broke down into a red
mist, and I swam on.  

I had no way of knowing how long I'd been, having neither a watch nor limbs
with which to check one.  My sensitive hearing picked up something familiar. 
It was faint, but it sounded like the same voices from the eggs.  I turned
toward the singing and launched myself like a living torpedo.  As I got closer,
I could make out words, and verify I was on the right track.  

"You're time's half done, so tarry not,
Lest what you seek stays here to rot."  

Well,t hat answered the question of how long I had left.  I poured on as much
speed as I could, adjusting the array on my body to diminish the resistance the
water offered.  As a side effect, the array shed enough light to see where I
was going.  

The song was coming from a village of merpeople.  They'd obviously been in the
lake long before the Triwizard Tournament started.  In the village square, a
choir of mermaids were singing, their songs making it possible for us to find
them.  A group of mermen holding spears were guarding a statue.  Tied to the
statue, unconscious, were Sloth, Hermione, and a beautiful young girl with
silvery blonde hair.  From the way I felt a psychic intrusion attempting to
enhance my opinion of her beauty, I connected the dots and identified her as a
relative of Fleur's.  

Harry was already there, and had managed to cut Ron loose.  Now, he was
attempting to argue with the merpeople.  While the gillyweed gave him the
ability to breathe, and webbed hands and feet to propel himself with, Harry
still couldn't speak underwater.  

I stopped on a dime as I transformed, adopting my black haired homunculus
form.  I was wearing black shorts, and the oroboros tattoo stood out
prominently on my chest.  I took my wand from between my pointed teeth and
stared down the merpeople through purple, slitted eyes.  

I slashed my wand in front of me, and words briefly blazed before me, made of
trace phosphorous in the water.  "WE ARE TAKING THE HOSTAGES."  

One of the merpeople spoke, his voice easily audible under the water.  "You
take your own hostage.  Leave the others."  

I slashed my wand again, and new words appeared.  "WE ARE TAKING THEM ALL. 
ANYONE WHO TRIES TO STOP US DIES."  

Then, with a flick of my wand, a blue blade of alchemic light extended out from
the end of my wand.  A trail of bubbles followed it, as the deconstruction
alchemy separated the water molecules into bubbles of hydrogen and oxygen gas. 
The merfolk wisely withdrew.  I cut the others lose with a single motion, then
holstered my wand.  A strap around my thigh materialized to hold the wand.  

Harry grabbed Ron and Hermione.  I took Sloth and the unknown girl, and
together, we headed for the surface.  The merfolk ascended with us, keeping to
a safe, nonthreatening distance, but also keeping us in sight.  None of the
hostages were moving.  I could only hope they'd revive once we got them to the
surface.  

I had to retain human form so I'd have hands I could use to drag the hostages
up.  Harry had flippers still, but he wasn't going much faster than I was.  The
merfolk were swimming circles around us.  We breached the surface together.  As
I'd hoped, the hostages revived from their enchanted sleep on being exposed to
open air.  

The younger girl was a weaker swimmer than the rest of us, and needed to be
supported, lest her head sink below the ice cold water.  Harry, meanwhile ahd
to keep his head underwater until the gillyweed wore off and he could breathe
normal air again.  Ron was calling us idiots for grabbing all the hostages,
insisting they'd never been in any real danger.  He still helped us get
everyone safely to shore.  

Madam Pomfrey was waiting near the shore for us with heavy blankets and vials
of potions to treat hypothermia after the time we'd all spent in the cold
February water.  As we reached the shore, the mermaids were escorting Fleur and
Krum back to the surface.  Viktor had transfigured his head into that of a
shark, and Headmaster Karkaroff reversed it with his wand upon Viktor
surfacing.  Fleur looked injured.  She was covered in cuts and scratches, and
only stopped struggling with the merpeople escorting her when she sighted the
girl we'd rescued being tended to by Madam Pomfrey.  Steam was shooting out of
the girl's ears from the pepper up potion Madam Pomfrey gave her to warm her
up.  

Percy had left his post at the judges' table to fuss over Ron, who tried to
shake off his worried older brother.  Fleur reached the shore and rushed to the
girl.  

"Gabrielle!  Gabrielle!  Is she alive?  Is she hurt?"  

"She's fine," gasped Harry, exhausted after an hour of hard swimming.  

"It was the grindylows," said Fleur, clutching Gabrielle to her.  "They
attacked me.  Oh, Gabrielle, I thought... I thought..."  

"I thought the same thing," I said softly, planting a kiss on Sloth's forehead
and hugging her tight.  

"I'm okay, Greed," she said.  Then she saw my face and asked with worry,
"Greed, your eyes!  What did you do?"  

"I told them the truth about me," I said.  I emphasized the last word.  Her
nature was for her to conceal or hide as she saw fit.  "No one'll think I'm a
goblin anymore."  I gave a small smile.  

The judges went to consult.  Viktor Krum approached us and said, "I didn't make
it to the village in time.  I am so sorry, Hermione.  If your friends hadn't
rescued you against the rules, who knows what might have happened to you?"  

Fleur was also grateful to us for rescuing her sister and kissed each of us on
the cheek.  The judges finished conferring amongst themselves and with the
merpeople's representative.  Ludo Bagman magically amplified his voice to
announce the score.  

Fleur was at the bottom of the rankings, having failed to reach the village,
and needing to be rescued from the grindylows.  Krum had the next score up,
having reached the village but outside the hour time limit.  My score was
next.  I would've got perfect marks like Harry did, but I was marked down for
going before the whistle and for threatening the merpeople.  The result was I
was now tied with Harry in the overall ranking.  

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of
June," finished Bagman.  "The champions will be notified of what is coming
precisely one month beforehand.  Thank you all for your support of the
champions."  

Once he had muffled his voice again, I approached the judges' table and asked,
"Wait, does this mean I'm still in the tournament after what I said?"  

"Frankly," said Bagman, "even if you were a goblin, we couldn't kick you out of
the tournament.  Binding magical contract, remember?  I expect someone from the
Improper Use of Magic Office will be along to see you about that animagus
transformation.  I'll try to convince them to deffer your sentence in Azkaban
until after the third task."  

"That wasn't an animagus transformation," I said insistently.  "Homunculi have
shape shifting powers."  I demonstrated by hopping up onto the judges' table
and turning into a rabbit.  

"Well," said Bagman, "in that case, let's make it someone from the Department
for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures then.  Good thing, too. 
With them, you might avoid a stay in Azkaban."  
                                     * * *


I fortunately didn't have to wait long for the question of my status to be
resolved.  Amos Diggory, who I'd met on the way to the World Cup, arrived at
Hogwarts the next day. Professor Dumbledore joined me when I went to meet with
him.  

"Marcus, have a seat," said Mr. Diggory.  "There are a few questions I need to
ask, and things will go better for you if you answer truthfully."  

I sat down across from him.  I hadn't switched back to my human appearance
since the task.  If I was going to get damned and condemned again, I wanted to
get that out of the way.  

"Thank you," said Mr. Diggory.  "Please set your wand on the table."

I complied.  His eyes took in its unusual appearance.  Then he turned back to
look me in my purple, slitted eyes.  

"All right, let's start with some basics.  It is your claim that you are a
formerly human being from another world and that Ministry of Magic personnel
can confirm this?"  

"They can confirm I explained all this under veritasyrum," I replied.  

"Why have none of them come forward about this until now?" asked Diggory.  

"I am afraid, I must claim responsibility for that," said Dumbledore.  "I had
asked for their discretion because I wished to enlist the aid of Mr. Oren in
protecting the Philosopher's Stone before the deaths of my good friends the
Flamels."  

"After that, I just didn't want to have to leave Hogwarts," I said.  

"Are you aware that carrying and use of a wand by a nonhuman creature is a
violation of Ministry law?" asked Diggory.  

"I didn't know that," I said, "but I've never used a wand.  I can't."  

"We'll see about that," said Diggory.  "Did you know there is a way to learn
the most recent spells a wand has cast?  Prior Incantato!"  

Shadowy traces of the test spells Ollivander had used to verify my new wand was
in working order for the tournament were expelled from the wand one at a time
in reverse order.  Diggory eyed the results suspiciously.  

"I hasten to point out," said Dumbledore, "that Ministry of Magic officials
compelled Mr. Oren to carry that wand as part of his participation in the
Triwizard Tournament.  He can hardly be blamed for following the Ministry's
orders."  

"Yes... well...," said Diggory uncomfortably.  "I don't believe there are
currently any rules specific to... homunculi?"  

I nodded.  

"And if you were, as you claim, born human," said Diggory, "then this is
probably more akin to the werewolf situation than what we have going with the
goblins or the house elves.  Which would mean you would be permitted to use a
wand and attend Hogwarts with the Headmaster's permission.  

"He has it," said Dumbledore simply.  "After all, I was aware of his status
when his application was accepted.  In the time he has attended this school, I
have never had cause to regret that decision."  

Amos Diggory got up to leave, then said, "Confidentially, Marcus, I don't think
you did yourself any favors coming out with all this.  You may find people
treat you differently now."  

"I knew that was a risk," I said, "but thank you."  

When he had gone, Dumbledore turned to me and said, "If I recall correctly,
Amos is rather fond of pepper imps.  I am certain a box or two would be
appreciated when you send out your thank you notes."  

"I'll remember that," I said.  "Thank you too, Professor."  

"It was the least I could do after all your hard work to make the visions from
the Mirror of Erised come true.  I always look forward to your Christmas gift. 
One can never have too many pairs of good wool socks."  

"Still no way to give Harry his wish," I said, reflecting on the one vision I
hadn't been able to make happen, besides my own.  "Although, now that you
mention it, I have been reading up on something that might make that possible. 
Tell me, Professor, is your wand what I think it is?"  

"It it was," said Dumbledore meaningfully, "it would not be wise to boast about
it."  

"And should Harry be equally careful boasting about his father's cloak?" I
asked.  

"He should at that," said Dumbledore.  "As to the third of the set, I have
never heard a credible rumor of its location or even confirmation of its
existence.  As I understand it, homunculi do not properly age, but I would
still advise against wasting your life in pursuit of something that may not
even exist."  
                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Hagrid's exposure by the Daily Prophet was too good a parallel to waste,
especially after what Greed went through when he first became a homunculus. 
***** The Final Task *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 41) The Final Task
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


In the days that followed, teachers and students reacted in different ways. 
Professor Flitwick went out of his way to be openly friendly with me in classes
to demonstrate I was still a welcomed and valued member of his house. 
McGonagall pointedly ignored the situation and acted as though nothing had
changed.  Professor Trelawney was beside herself when I turned in updated
astrology charts based on the starts I was actually born under back in my own
world.  

I hadn't expected the near universal acceptance and support from the teachers. 
After the response I'd gotten back home, it moved me to tears.  It was easy to
forget, but this world had different values, priorities, and taboos.  

The student body's reactions were mixed.  some, including the Weasley twins,
were mostly supportive as well, if a bit curious.  A lot of the students that
had never liked me latched on to my nonhuman status as an excuse to resume
teasing and ostracizing a school champion.  I honestly felt better having them
openly antagonistic toward me again anyway.  

Snubbing the Daily Prophet, I gave an interview to Luna's father over the mail
for the Quibbler, explaining a bit about homunculi, including our origins as
products of alchemy, our ability to regenerate injuries, and the difficulty
involved in learning how to shape shift.  Obviously, I left out both the full
extent of our immortality, and our weaknesses, but he seemed to be quite happy
just to be the first to publish the details.  

The most amazing thing of all was that it blew over.  In a couple of weeks,
people were talking about new rumors, and my newly revealed status was just
another accepted fact. Having seen the reaction I got, Sloth revealed herself
as a homunculus as well.  By that point, everyone's positions on the subject
had been pretty well settled.  I certainly didn't begrudge her waiting to see
the reaction to me before coming out herself.  

Word came in from Sirius about our next Hogsmeade weekend.  He wanted to meet
up.  He also wanted us to bring food.  This being an important matter, we
managed to convince Neville to sneak out with us under his invisibility cloak. 
We stopped off at the kitchens to get some extra food from the house elves, and
loaded it into my magic bag.  

Rather than head straight to the meeting point, we wandered about Hogsmeade,
browsing the shops.  At Borgin and Burkes, I purchased some dark detectors. 
When I took possession of the foeglass, the shopkeeper started and issued a
warning.  

"Your enemies are reflected in a foeglass.  When they're unidentifiable shadows
in the distance, you're safe.  When they loom large and clear, they're nearby
and ready to attack.  At this level of clarity, whoever it is that means you
harm is well past the point of plotting and is lying in wait for an opportune
moment.  Be careful."  

Three figures were visible in my foeglass.  On the left side of the enchanted
mirror, I recognized Peter Petigrew's features.  On the right side, was a
blonde man I didn't recognize.  In the center, with his slitted nostrils and
red eyes was the face of Lord Voldemort, who I'd firsts seen on the back of
Quirrell's head.  A couple of unidentifiable figures lurked in the shadows far
in the back.  

I stowed the foeglass and our crew headed out down the lane where Sirius said
he'd meet us.  We found the large black dog waiting near a bit of fence.  After
greeting him, he led us into the hills and up to the foot of a nearby
mountain.  Neville had removed his invisibility cloak a half hour into the long
hike.  Finally, Sirius led us inside a hidden cave and turned human again.  

After bowing to Buckbeak, who was tied up inside, we started unpacking the food
while he and Harry spoke.  Sirius wanted to go over everything potentially
suspicious that had happened this year going back to the Quidditch World Cup. 
He had a good deal of insight and additional information to offer, which he
shared as he ate ravenously.  

Among other things, Sirius mentioned that Barty Crouch had been the head of
Magical Law Enforcement during the last war.  He'd authorized all manner of
gross violations in the lame of stopping Voldemort.  Many people, including
Sirius, had been sent directly to Azkaban without a trial.  I was reminded
unpleasantly of the way the military had tried to cover up what Shao Tucker had
done by avoiding a trial.  

As Sirius had a lot of experience with the who's who of dark wizards thanks to
his time in Azkaban, I took out my new foeglass to show it to him.  

"Do you recognize this man?" I asked, pointing to the unfamiliar blonde man in
the mirror.  

"That's not possible," said Sirius.  Then he screamed out, "Does no one on the
dark side stay dead?!"  

"Sirius?" asked Harry, worried.  

Sirius calmed himself, clearly putting in an effort for Harry's sake.  "I'm
sorry about that.  It's just... all three of them are supposed to be dead. 
Wormtail and Voldemort you know about already.  The third man is Barty Crouch
Jr.  But he died in Azkaban.  I watched the dementors bury him."  

Sirius proceeded to ramble, giving everything he knew about Crouch Jr. in the
hopes something would make sense or prove useful.  He'd been caught after
Voldemort's defeat, as part of a group of ex death eaters determined to bring
Voldemort back to life.  The trial Crouch gave him was a show trial as part of
publicly denouncing the boy.  He'd taken ill in Azkaban, not uncommon, and his
parents had made a deathbed visit.  His mother had also been ill and died
shortly after Crouch had.  

"Dementors are blind, aren't they?" asked Luna.  "Maybe they let Barty Jr. go
and kept his mother by mistake."  

Sirius shook his head.  "People, humans, would've seen who was leaving, and I
saw the body the dementors buried.  It was him."  

"We know magic can change someone's appearance," I said.  "However it happened,
he's alive and after me.  Probably Harry too."  I tossed the foeglass to Harry,
and when the three figures at the front didn't change, I said, "Yep, definitely
after Harry too."  

"You're right," said Sirius.  "However it happened, it happened.  This has to
tie in with Crouch Sr.'s illness."  

"Maybe Winky would know more," suggested Sloth.  

"Who?" asked Sirius.  

"Mr. Crouch's house elf," said Hermione.  "He sacked her at the world cup after
she was found under the dark mark with Harry's wand."  

Speculation continued for a while longer.  Ultimately, it was decided Hermione
and Sloth would talk to Winky, Ron and Ginny would write to Percy, asking after
Barty Crouch Sr.'s health, Harry would check over the Marauder's Map for any
sign of the people itn eh mirror, and all of us would keep a look out for
anything suspicious.  Sirius insisted we refer to him by the code name Snuffles
from that point on when we were apart, and warned us not to try sneaking out of
the castle to see him.  

                                     * * *


When we met up in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry was the only one with anything
significant to report.  The owl to Percy would take time, and Winky was adamant
in her protection of her former master's secrets.  Harry, however, had
confirmed that Barty Crouch was on the school grounds.  Before speaking with
us, he'd gone to speak to Dumbledore.  

Dumbledore had heard him out, and noted that he'd been in contact with Sirius,
who had also passed on our insight from the foeglass.  Dumbledore had called in
Moody to discuss the new information.  Harry and Dumbledore both held back. 
Dumbledore didn't say anything about Sirius to Moody, and Harry didn't say
anything about the map to either of them.  

We had to clam up at that point because Sir Nicholas had arrived.  Harry and I
idly mused about the possibility that the third task might involve sword
fighting, and the advantage that would give us if it did.  It was almost like
there wasn't a trio of dark wizards plotting to kill us.  

When we left Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, we were startled to see Mad-Eye Moody
waiting outside in the hall, leaning against the threatening message Riddle's
diary had forced Ginny to paint in her first year.  His magical eye darted this
way and that, but his human one was fixed on the door.  

"I need to talk to you, Oren," he said.  

"How did you-?" started Ron.  

"You sneak up here every day," noted Moody.  "If you don't vary your routine,
it makes you easy to track, even if where you're going is perfectly hidden."  

"Good point," I admitted.  "What did you want to talk to me about?"  

"It's about your bolt hole," he said.  

"Your what?" asked Ginny.  

"The lab under the Quidditch field," said Sloth, still visibly uncomfortable
with Moody's discovery of it at the start of the year.  

Picking up on the cue, Moody explained, "I did a fresh sweep of the grounds
after getting some new information from Dumbledore this morning."  He gave a
nod to Harry.  "I checked out your lab, and it looks like you've been robbed."
 

"Robbed?" I asked.  

"Unless you got paranoid about me having been down there and you decided to
replace a year's supply of polyjuice with water after we talked?  I figured if
it was you, you'd have just left the bottles empty instead of trying to hide
that some was missing.  Who else knew about your lab?"  

"Just us," I said, gesturing at everyone collected in the hall.  "We kept
pretty quiet about it."  

"That's not true," said Ron.  "We had a spy in our midst for three years. 
Wormtail knew."  

"And he could have told Voldemort and Crouch," said Harry.  

Moody nodded.  "That makes this trickier.  This eye can see through
invisibility, but it's no help identifying someone who's under polyjuice.  He
could've been under our noses all year and we'd never have known it.  The only
people he couldn't be are Hagrid and Maxime, and you two of course," he added,
gesturing at me and Sloth.  

"Why not us?" asked Sloth.  

"Only works on humans," said Moody.  "Other kinds of creatures, even a little
bit of nonhuman in their ancestry, and the potion doesn't work right.  Has
strange, unpredictable effects, but it definitely doesn't work right."  

"So, Fleur's safe too," said Harry.  

"Gabrielle, too," I added.  

"Point is, most of the teachers and students are fair game," said Moody.  "And
that's not getting into any willing accomplices and Imperiused servants he
might be using.  Mind you, if we could catch Crouch, we could interrogate him
and find out who he was working with."  

"I might have a way to find him," Harry said.  He took the blank parchment that
was the Marauder's Map out of his bag, tapped his wand to it and said, "I
solemnly swear, I am up to no good."  

Moody took the map and stared at it intently as it drew in the many floors,
corridors, and secret passages of Hogwarts.  Both his eyes darted over the map
as he quickly determined what he was looking at.  

"These dots with the names on them are all the people in the school?" he
asked.  Harry confirmed with a nod.  "Interesting.  Very interesting.  We would
be here, which means if this works the way you say it does, we're all who we
appear to be.  It'll take longer to go over the whole school.  Can I borrow
this?"  

"If it helps you catch Crouch and stop whatever Wormtail and Voldemort are
planning, yeah," said Harry.  

"Good," said Moody, folding the map and putting it in a pocket of his robes. 
"In the meantime, watch out for each other.  Constant vigilance.  Hopefully, I
can sound the all clear and return your map soon, Potter."  

"Until that happens," I said, "I want everyone to stay armed at all times."  

We nodded and went our separate ways.  

                                     * * *


Percy's letter the following week provided no new insights.  Crouch Sr. hadn't
been in to work, but he was sending in orders via owl post.  Percy'd apparently
had to field a lot of questions about Crouch Sr.'s condition.  

In the meantime, we learned that the third task would involve navigating a
hedge maze prepared with spells and creatures in order to reach the Triwizard
cup at the center.  Once someone had the cup, that was the end of this accursed
binding magical contract.  To prepare for the task, I looked down on the
Quidditch field from Ravenclaw tower and sketched an overhead map of the maze
that was being grown there.  

Ron's alchemy training was nearing its completion for the year, and I started
feeling out some of the castle's ghosts about the possibility of them coming
back to life.  I avoided being explicit about anything, since the risks and
sacrifices involved with a human transmutation attempt were such that I
certainly wouldn't begrudge Ron deciding not to go through with it.  

Harry and I were exempted from end of year exams, so we used the extra time to
prepare for the third task.  We still had to keep up with our regular
schoolwork, but the cram sessions in preparation for the test were free time to
practice combat spells, shields, curses, countercurses, and the like.  The
others took shifts helping us practice, so they'd still have a chance to study
themselves.  

In the buildup to the third task, Harry dozed off in Divination, and had
another dream or vision about Voldemort, which he reported to Dumbledore. 
Apparently, Wormtail had screwed something up, but the problem had been
corrected.  Someone was dead, and their plan was back on track.  Meanwhile, the
figures in my foeglass crept imperceptibly closer each day.  

Finally, the day of the final task arrived.  I sat down to breakfast with Luna
at the Ravenclaw table.  Someone slid a copy of the Daily Prophet over to us,
saying, "You'd better see this."  

The headline bore the title, "Harry Potter and the Seven Deadly Sins."  It was
another hit piece by Rita Skeeter, this one aimed straight at Harry.  She
painted Harry as a burgeoning dark lord, who's brain had been addled by the
long ago curse from Voldemort that had given him his lightning bolt scar.  As
evidence, she cited Harry's friendships with Giants and Werewolves, his recent
collapse in Divination that she had no legitimate way of knowing about, and
most especially, his close friendship with us.  

It wasn't just Sloth and I.  The others had been assigned sins by Rita
Skeeter.  Ron had been dubbed Gluttony due to his eating habits, which he'd
picked up as a member of a very large, very poor family.  Hermione was
apparently Lust, having supposedly been dosing people, including Ron and Harry,
with love potions so she could leach off their fame and wealth.  Ginny was
called Wrath over her now quite well known hexing of Cho Chang.  Neville was
stuck with Envy, which Skeeter claiming was claiming was due to his poor
magical skills and his inability to live up to his parents' legacy.  Which left
Luna as Pride, for keeping her head held high and cleaving to her beliefs in
the face of the mass ridicule of both them and her.  

Rita Skeeter had learned that we used parseltongue among ourselves, and used
this as further evidence that we were all being trained in the dark arts by
Harry to serve as his lieutenants, and his answer to Voldemort's inner circle
of Death Eaters.  She concluded her article with a call to have us all
investigated and perhaps removed from the school.  

I turned to Luna and said, "You got Pride.  That's high praise.  Traditionally,
it was used to designate the strongest, highest ranking homunculus."  

A quick glance over toward the Gryffindor table showed that Hermione was
particularly affronted at her characterization in the article.  After
breakfast, Harry and I were surprised to be called off to a side room with the
explanation that our families were allowed to watch the final task, and that we
were to greet them.  

I was an orphan, raised by the church of Leto since long before Cornello
arrived in Liore as our Prophet.  I'd never known my parents or any blood
relation.  Certainly if I had any, they'd be back in my own world.  Had our
time in this world run out and the Elrics had come to rescue us?  I had hoped
the time turner would allow us to avoid that eventuality.  

As it turned out, it was Bill and Molly Weasley who had come to see both Harry
and I.  Arthur, Charlie, and Percy couldn't get the time off.  Apparently,
Percy wouldn't be here as a judge either.  Fudge was going to do the job
personally.  Not that there would be much to judge as straightforward as the
third task was.  

The Weasleys had taken the reveal of my nonhuman nature well enough.  I
answered a few questions, but they took care not to be intrusive.  At length,
the time came, and I headed down to the hedge maze with Harry, Viktor, and
Fleur.  We all shook hands and wished each other luck.  

                                     * * *


Harry was dispatched into the maze first.  His head start was relatively slim,
and soon, I'd been signaled to go after him.  I'd memorized the paths that led
to the center of the maze, and I was off at a run on my chosen one.  

Rounding a corner, I found myself face to face with a chimera.  It bore a
striking resemblance to the creature Father Cornello had kept in the church
basement as a security measure, with its lion head and reptilian tail.  This
one was considerably smaller than that one had been.  I wasn't convinced it
outweighed Loki in his chimera form.  

I ducked a swipe from its clawed fore paw and bolted past it.  Not content to
let me get by, it pounced toward me.  I raised my wand and turned, pointing the
wand at its belly.  A burst of blue light accompanied a jet of transmuted air
impacting it hard enough to reverse its momentum and throw it backward,
crashing to the ground on its back and out of breath.  I'd resumed running
before it landed.  

A few turns later, I was running down a straight section of my chosen route
when I noticed the hedge getting darker, my footfalls quieter, and my limbs
growing number with every step I took.  I planted my feet and stopped
instantly.  I cautiously took a step back, and the deadening of my senses
lessened.  A step forward and it increased.  I did some quick calculations. 
Assuming the rate of change remained constant, I would be completely insensate
once I reached the halfway point of this stretch of maze.  

If my senses returned after I crossed the halfway point, I could just run
straight through.  If they didn't, though, that would be it until one of the
safety monitors found me and pulled me out.  I could try to circle around, but
the route I'd planned was the fastest, most direct one.  

I stomped my foot and a wave of blue light shot up and down the ground,
breaking down grass and soil for the raw materials to construct a slightly
elevated rubber treadmill running the length of this path.  Electricity didn't
work on Hogwarts grounds, but all I needed was to keep a cylinder rotating.  An
appropriate transmutation circle was drawn on the cylinder on m end of the
path.  I took a red stone from my pocket and placed it in the cylinder, and the
treadmill began to move in my direction.  

I hopped on the treadmill and ran.  IF my senses didn't return after the
halfway point, I'd fall over and the treadmill would carry me back to the point
I could see again and I'd take another route.  If they did return, I could just
keep running and hop off the treadmill on the far end.  I had a brief moment of
panic as I crossed the midpoint and blacked out for just an instant, but my
momentum carried me through and my senses returned.  I was still on track.  

The next corner I took too fast and ended up sprinting into the middle of a
nest of flesh eating slugs.  Their acidic mucus burned through my boots in
seconds.  I pointed my wand down and deconstructed the slugs at my feet, then
turned and did the same to the rest of the area.  Even Hagrid didn't like flesh
eating slugs.  Once the area was clear, I focused and generated a new pair of
boots before proceeding.  

I heard a scream from somewhere nearby.  It was Fleur's voice.  She may have
been feigning, but if she really was in danger, I didn't dare risk ignoring
it.  I deviated from my planned route and found Fleur unconscious, with no sign
of what had attacked her nearby.  I verified she was still breathing, then shot
a burst of red sparks into the air with my wand to alert the safety patrol to
rescue her.  Then I found my way back to my path and resumed my run.   

Ten feet further, I saw a blast ended skrewt turning a corner.  The thing was
even bigger than the skrewts had been when we last saw them in Care of Magical
Creatures.  It was the size of a small car, with a gleaming armored exoskeleton
and a stinger as thick around as my entire body.  It turned in my direction and
launched itself toward me with its organic rocket propulsion.  

I held up my left arm and used a circle on my wrist to raise a shield of
transmuted air for the skrewt to collide with.  It wasn't even stunned by the
impact.  I extended a blue blade of deconstruction alchemy from the end of my
wand and sliced through one of the skrewt's legs.  My shield had to block the
stinger from coming down on my bead.  I took advantage of the opening and
quickly lobbed the stinger off.  

The skrewt was preparing for another rocket propelled charge.  I dropped flat
on my back and extended my blade above me.  The two halves of the skrewt
collapsed on either side of me.  I made sure no part of the thing was still
moving, then I resumed my path.  

It wasn't long after that point htat some darts shot out from the hedge on my
left.  I managed to duck in time and fell prone to the ground.  Looking where
they'd come from, a dozen green impish creatures were hidden in the thorns
holding blowguns to their lips. I clapped and touched the ground.  Earthen
hands reached up and grasped them, pinning their arms and holding them off the
ground.  I picked up my dropped wand and proceeded.  

After the next turn, I stopped in time to avoid rushing headlong into a gold
colored mist that filled the path.  I had no idea what it was, but odds were,
contact with it would be bad.  I crouched down and the ground compressed and
cratered beneath my feet.  Then, I used the circles on my shoes to restore the
ground at the same time I took a leap forward.  I hurled through the air above
the maze for just a moment before using a similar transmutation to ensure a
safe landing on the far side of the mist.  

I was making good time, despite the obstacles.  As I made my way down a
straight section of maze, Viktor Krum stepped in front of me from a side path. 
He looked over at me.  

"Viktor," I said, "I guess that head start  wasn't that decisive.  You must
not've run into as many obstacles as I have.  Oh well, it's anyone's game now."
 

In response, he raised his wand and said, "Crucio!"  

In my life, I have experienced pain before.  I'd even taken to keeping a ranked
list of my top most painful experiences.  Being subjected to the cruciatus
curse easily knocked having been vivisected by the Nazis off the number three
spot.  Having each of my nerves individually hooked up to automail during the
installation still managed to hold on to the number two spot, but it was a lot
closer than I would have liked.  

I wasn't sure how long I was writing on the ground, screaming in agony.  A
friendly voice reached my ears, calling, "Stupefy!" and the pain abruptly
ended.  Harry was standing over me, and he pulled me to my feet.  

"Are you alright?" asked Harry.  

"I've been worse," I replied unhappily.  "Thank you.  Who knows how much longer
he would've kept that up if you hadn't stunned him?"  

"He didn't sleep on the grounds," said Harry.  "He slept on the ship where the
map wouldn't have shown."  

"I guess his beef with the Hallows symbol was really because he thought I was
supporting the wrong dark lord," I said.  

I snatched his wand and transmuted some earthen bindings to hold him immobile
on the ground.  I turned to proceed, and Harry stopped me.  

"We should send up red sparks," said Harry.  "Someone'll come and collect him. 
Otherwise, he'll probably be eaten by a skrewt."  

I nodded.  "Okay."  Then I transmuted a message into the stone restraining
him.  Raised letters declaring he was the Death Eater Barty Crouch under
polyjuice.  While I left the note, Harry sent up the sparks.  

"Looks like Hogwarts is winning the tournament," I said.  "Do you think the
real Viktor Krum is in trouble from that binding magical contract?"  

"I hope not," said Harry.  

"If he is dead from it, that's one more on the list of Crouch's crimes," I
said.  I glared at the unconscious Death Eater, then moved on.  Harry did
likewise along a different path.  

The path Harry took would also get him to the center of the maze, so I had to
keep moving if I was going to beat him to it.  A couple minutes later, I
approached an intersection with paths leading left, right, and forward.  As
soon as I stepped into the intersection, everything around me spun on its axis
too fast for the eye to follow.  The stars above me were stretched into
concentric rings of light overhead.  Then the spinning stopped.  

I'd had no sense of motion, but I was now unsure if the direction I had been
intending to go in was still where I'd last seen it.  I looked as far down each
path as I could see.  I knew that the path I wanted to take had a T
intersection next.  Unfortunately, there were two, directly opposite each
other.  The other paths both curved to the left, meaning they were no help
eliminating wrong paths.  

I'd been studying the stars and planets for four years, and with astrology this
year, I'd been getting a double dose this year.  After a moment staring up, I
was able to orient myself by the stars and proceed on my way.  

I was starting to think the fastest, most direct path must have the most
obstacles put in the way, when I rounded a corner and caught sight of a massive
rhinocerus-like creature.  I recognized it as an erumpent.  I knew from my Care
of Magical Creatures textbook that the creature's horn contained a fluid that
caused anything it gored with it to explode.  It lowered its head and charged
at me.  

I was in no mood to explode today, so I raised my foot, intending to drop it
into a pit.  I remembered just in time that, as close to the center of the maze
ass I was, I'd be dropping it into my lab, filled with toxic, fuming red
water.  I stopped myself, but there was no time to come up with a new plan.  My
hesitation got me impaled through the abdomen on that deadly horn.  

I expected that the explosive injected into me would work like having a stick
of dynamite shoved inside my body and detonated, blowing me apart from the
inside out.  Surprisingly, the explosion seemed to occur all around me
instead.  As a result, my skin was burned, my ribs were cracked, and I had a
hole in m stomach from the initial goring, but I was still whole and alive even
before my body's regeneration kicked in.  

While I healed, I pointed my wand at the hedge.  Vines shot out and entangled
the erumpent, then they turned black as I manipulated the carbon on them to
diamond hardness.  So bound, the erumpent was no longer a danger to itself or
others.  I moved on.  

The next obstacle I faced in my effort to reach the cup was a spelled stretch
of maze.  Every step I took down it caused the path's length to increase by two
steps.  Adjusting the length of my stride didn't help, and whole stepping
backward did shrink the path back down, there wasn't enough space behind me to
reduce it to nothing.  I stood there longer than I should have trying to figure
out how to get past this obstacle.  Ultimately, I had to admit defeat and find
another route.  

The answer was probably to shrink the space in front of me as it expanded.  A
NEWT level charm, and nothing I could emulate with alchemy.  Circling around, I
finally caught sight of the Triwizard Cup.  Harry was emerging from another
path.  I was faster and had better traction, but of course, one final obstacle
emerged.  

A gigantic spider pounced at me from the side as Harry called out a warning. 
My first impulse was to deconstruct it before it landed, but I recalled
acromantula were sentient beings so I dropped into a roll.  A burst of red
light impacted the spider as Harry called out, "Stupefy!"  

I rolled back to my feet and resumed my run for the cup, then turned back when
I heard a scream.  The spider had bit Harry's leg.  It had apparently endured
Harry's stun spell and ended up merely enraged at the young wizard who attacked
it.  Venom dripped from the spider's fangs.  The black substance mingled with
blood from Harry's wounded leg.  

I stomped my foot and a stone spike rose up and impaled the spider.  If it was
going to play for keeps, so would I.  I ran up to Harry as the spider twitched
and died on my transmuted spike.  

"Swallow this," I told him as I pressed a beozar into his hand.  Meanwhile, I
pointed my wand at his leg and closed the wound with alchemy.  

"Go take the cup," said Harry as I got him to his feet.  "We both know you're
faster than I am, even after you fixed my leg."  

"It doesn't seem right that the tournament's outcome comes down to a foot
race," I said.  Then I gave a wry grin and said, "Besides, you could stun me as
soon as I turn my back."  

"You could do the same to me if I went for it," said Harry, returning my grin. 
"Together, then?"  

We strode side by side to the Triwizard cup, and each took hold of an opposite
handle simultaneously.  Suddenly, my hand was stuck, and I was spinning at a
high rate of speed.  The cup was a portkey.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
The ability to recognize that Barty Crouch Jr. is involved doesn't translate to
the ability to do anything to stop his plans. 
***** Raising the Dead *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 42) Raising the Dead
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Harry and I landed heavily in a dark graveyard.  A bundle of black robes rested
on a tombstone nearby and squirmed as though an infant was swaddled in them. 
Suddenly, I was surrounded by the golden light of a transmutation circle.  When
I doubled over and began to vomit, I knew this was a flamel array.  

Harry screamed in agony nearby as I tried to focus.  A familiar rat was perched
on one line of the glowing circle.  He would have been as good as invisible
before he'd been outlined by the transmutation's light.  As red stones were
expelled from my mouth and melted into a useless slurry, I could feel myself
getting weaker.  The stones I had consumed granted me superhuman strength and
speed, fueled my ability to regenerate, and I was pretty confident served as
the energy source for my shape shifting abilities.  Without those stones, I was
weak and vulnerable.  

There was no way out of a flamel array.  I couldn't drag myself outside its
range, and I couldn't hold back the flow of red stones escaping my mouth. 
Harry was in no condition to help me.  He was holding his forehead and
screaming, rolling on the ground.  The Philosopher's Stone's power left me, and
the array went dark.  

Wormtail resumed human form and stepped behind me while I lay on my hands and
knees, trying to catch my breath.  I didn't know what he was planning, but if
it required draining away my spare life energy, I had a way to thwart it.  I
raised my wand to my lips and bit off the red stone on the end, just as
something heavy fell on me from behind and pinned me to the ground.  

I saw an automail leg fall over my shoulder and realized too late that it
wasn't just the weight that prevented me from moving.  They'd drained away my
red stones and dumped a boggart on top of me.  The boggart had turned into my
human remains, and I was paralyzed on contact.  

"Adava Kedavra!" called Wormtail, and I was struck by a burst of green light.  

There wasn't much power in the red stone from my wand.  The plant derived
stones were, pound for pound, the weakest form of red stone, and I'd used up a
lot of power healing Harry's leg earlier.  Fortunately, the Adava Kedavra curse
leaves the body in perfect condition.  There was no flesh that needed to be
rebuilt, just a spark of life to restore my functioning.  As sore as I was all
over, I doubted I had enough energy to do that again, and in the presence of my
remains, if I died without any stones in me, that would be it.  

Wormtail had moved Harry to another grave and tied him to it.  Meanwhile, he
was lighting a fire under a massive stone cauldron.  I tried to move, but found
myself still paralyzed.  The boggart was still on top of me.  

I needed to think through my next move carefully.  Wormtail assumed I was dead.
I could use occlumency to force the boggart to assume a different form, but the
moment I did so, I'd be revealing myself to be still alive.  With my powers so
weakened, I'd need the element of surprise, and boggarts make a loud cracking
sound when they change shape.  

I took a mental inventory of my possessions.  Just as with the first two tasks,
I'd left my time turner locked up in my trunk in my dorm.  I still had a soul
coin on me, and there was a small chip of red stone on the back of it.  It
wouldn't do much, but it would fuel one transmutation I wouldn't have to move
for.  My shoes still had their transmutation circles on them, and my wand,
minus red stone, was still clutched in my hand.  The shield array I'd used
against the skrewt was still drawn on my left wrist.  

I could make a fight of it, but one unblockable killing curse, and it was all
over.  I wouldn't be able to keep up my occlumency while I was dead, so the
boggart would revert to my remains, rendering that death permanent.  Harry, for
his part seemed to have recovered from whatever they were doing to him.  He'd
be looking for a way out too.  

Harry saw an oportunity.  Shifting into his raven form, the ropes that held him
tight as a human fell away from his smaller bird body.  Now in the air, Harry
gained some altitude.  If he could escape, I could keep playing possum until
they left, then slip away myself.  

Escape, however, was not what was on Harry's mind.  Turning in midair, Harry
dove straight at the bundle and returned to human form mid-dive.  He had the
soul coin I'd given him extended out in a hand.  He pressed the coin to the
creature inside the bundle before Wormtail could turn and stop him.  

No red alchemic light poured from the back fo the coin on contact.  Something
had gone wrong.  A laugh came from the bundle as Wormtail hastened to rebind
Harry and keep a wand trained on him.  

"Ah yes, the gift from your dead friend," came the voice of Lord Voldemort from
the bundle.  "Your last, desperate move has failed.  Don't let him slip away as
a bird again, Wormtail."  

"Not so dead," I called out, followed by the loud cracking sound of the boggart
on top of me transforming into a javelin.  I was no longer paralyzed, but I was
weak, sore, and sluggish.  I couldn't have hit Wormtail through the heart if
I'd tried, but fortunately, I didn't need to.  

I sprang to my feet as fast as I could and hurled the javelin in Wormtail's
direction.  As it closed in on his position, another loud crack sounded and the
boggart changed in midair from a javelin into Sirius Black.  

His hollow eyes fixed on Wormtail, and a smile played on his lips.  "Hello,
Wormtail," said Black.  "I've been hoping I'd run into you."  

With the boggart distracting Wormtail, I called out to Harry, "Run!  Get to
safety!  Leave them to me!"  

Harry looked about to comply, but then he let out a fresh scream of agony as
Voldemort declared, "I think not."  

With no one focusing on me, I stomped my foot, and a section of earth flipped
up beneath the dropped soul coin Harry had tried to use on Voldemort.  I
dropped my wand and pulled my soul coin from my pocket with one hand and caught
Harry's with the other.  Using my thumbs, I popped the red stone chips on the
backs of each coin off and flicked the red stone fragments into my mouth.  A
little of the soreness vanished as some of my still dead muscles regenerated.  

Meanwhile, Wormtail got over his shock at seeing Sirius and called out,
"Rediculus!"  The boggart turned into a rock at his feet.  Then he called out a
curse at me.  

I raised my left arm and used the circle on my wrist to bring up a glowing blue
disk of solidified air to block Wormtail's curse.  I raised my right foot,
preparing to stomp and drive a stone spike up through my opponent's body. 
Before my foot could fall, however, I was struck from behind.  A massive snake
sprang at me and wrapped itself around my body.  I toppled to the ground.  

I struggled against the snake, but my body was too weak.  I hissed for it to
let me go in parseltongue, but it didn't respond.  My feet weren't in contact
with the ground, and I couldn't get my hands together to clap.  I tried shape
shifting a new circle onto my body, but apparently that technique ran on the
same fuel of red stones as my regeneration, which was all used up.  

"Hold him there, Nagini," said Voldemort in parseltongue.  The serpent
acknowledged it's master's command and tightened its constricting coils. 
Meanwhile, sparks and steam were flying out of the massive cauldron.  

"It is ready, Master," said Wormtail.  

"Now," instructed Voldemort.  

Wormtail lifted Voldemort out of the swaddling bundle of robes, and I got my
first good look at his new body.  My first thought was that the bastard had
possessed an infant.  Something was wrong with that theory, though, primarily
the fact that it only had one face.  His limbs were emaciated to the point of
being almost skeletal, and his skin was thin and raw, with sores in numerous
places.  I briefly wondered if Wrath had looked anything like that after his
initial transmutation.  Whatever the case, that body looked like it would be
constant agony to exist like that.  

Wormtail lowered the deformed, fetal dark lord into the cauldron, which hissed
and bubbled when he was set inside.  I racked my brain, trying to figure a way
out of this situation, but being crushed by a giant snake is not a situation
conductive to thinking your way out of.  I briefly lamented that I never
would've been snuck up on if I had a magic eye like Moody's, but I forced
myself to focus on the present.  

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" said
Wormtail.  Then, with a flick of his wand, a grave marked Tom Riddle cracked
open and a faint dust of decayed bone floated from the grave to the cauldron. 
The sparks flying from the potion turned bright blue.  

"Flesh of the servant," Wormtail continued, drawing a silver knife and sobbing,
"willingly given, you will revive your master."  He cut off his hand with the
missing finger and allowed it to drop into the cauldron.  The sparks blazed red
as Wormtail screamed out in pain.  Harry'd closed his eyes for that part. 
Still moaning in agony, Wormtail limped over to Harry.  

I tried again to struggle.  Nagaini ws no constricting me so tightly, I
couldn't breathe enough to call out in warning.  I could feel the soul coins
digging into my palms.  I couldn't even open my fists to drop them.  

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe," declared
Wormtail through agonized sobs.  He took his knife and cut a gash into Harry's
right arm, and fumbled for a vial in his robes using his one remaining hand. 
He collected some of Harry's blood and poured it into the cauldron.  

Steam filled the graveyard as the entire contents of the cauldron evaporated
all at once.  As the mist cleared, I saw a tall, thin figure rise out of the
cauldron.  

"Robe me," commanded Voldemort, and Wormtail, still cradling his stump of an
arm carried over the bundle of robes and pulled them onto his master.  

Voldemort's skin was pale, his eyes were red and slitted, and he still didn't
have a proper nose, only slitted nostrils.  He was hairless, and possessed very
long fingers.  Voldemort drew a wand from an inside pocket of his robes,
fondled it for a moment, then used it to lift Wormtail off hsi feet and slam
him into the gravestone Harry was tied to.  He laughed, exulted to have his
body and powers fully restored to him.  

Voices were low, and I couldn't make out what was being said at this distance. 
I could tell he was enjoying Wormtail's suffering.  He grabbed Wormtail's good
arm, then began pacing.  

I tried to think.  If I did get loose from the snake, I'd have to fight
Voldemort.  His structure and composition were questionable.  He certainly
didn't look entirely human.  Harry had struck him with a soul coin, and it did
nothing.  Why?  I knew they could extract wizard souls.  I'd used one on
Lockheart.  Wormtail didn't know enough alchemy to prepare a countermeasure. 
The only thing that made sense was that Voldemort had done something to alter
his soul that prevented direct alchemy the same way his altered body did.  

As I pondered, the black robed, masked Death Eaters apparated into the
graveyard and formed a large circle around Harry, Wormtail, and Voldemort. 
They each dropped to their knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes, then
resumed their place in the circle.  

Voldemort commanded their attention with a whisper.  I could feel the rising
tension until one of them threw himself at Voldemort's feet, begging for
forgiveness.  Voldemort pointed his wand and subjected this Death Eater to the
cruciatus curse before pacing over to Wormtail.  

He begged incoherently.  Voldemort raised his wand and conjured a mass of
liquefied silver, which formed into the shape of a hand and affixed itself to
Wormtail's bloody wrist.  The pain seemed to vanish instantly, and he crawled
forward to kiss Voldemort's robes in gratitude for his new magical silver hand.
 

Voldemort spoke to each of the Death Eaters in turn, and I could hear them
reply.  Lucius Malfoy's voice was among them.  After Lucius asked how Voldemort
had come back, the dark lord wandered over to Harry, still speaking too softly
to hear.  Theatrically, Voldemort extended a finger and touched Harry's face. 
Somehow, he'd overcome the protection that had driven him off the last time he
and Harry met.  

Voldemort talked and talked and talked.  Harry couldn't escape from that crowd
of Death Eaters as a bird, and I still couldn't move.  There was nothing to do
but wait and watch for an opportunity.  

Pointing his wand at Harry, Voldemort cried out, "Crucio!" and Harry's screams
echoed through the graveyard.  This was the Nazi death camps all over again. 
People being tortured and killed feet from me, and me powerless to do anything
about it.  

At Voldemort's command, Harry was cut loose.  Still reeling from the torture,
it was all he could do to keep his feet under him.  Then I saw what I hoped was
my chance.  Wormtail had stepped out of the circle and was heading toward me. 
He kicked the rock that was the boggart out of view behind a grave as he went. 
Then he bent down and scooped up Harry's wand and returned to the circle.  He
never got close enough to me to make a difference.  

The Death Eaters closed ranks as Harry was handed his wand back, and he and
Voldemort faced one another.  I couldn't see what was happening through the
crowding Death Eaters, but Harry's screams told me he'd been hit again with the
cruciatus curse.  The next I heard was Harry defiantly yelling, "I won't!"  

Then I heard the exchange.  Harry shouted "Expelliarmus!" the same instant
Voldemort called, "Adava Kedavra!"  There was a flash of red and green light,
then something extrordinary happened.  

Harry and Voldemort levitated over the circle of Death Eaters, their wands
connected at the tips by a strand of golden light.  They floated to an open
patch of ground and strands from their wands wove a dome of golden light over
the combatants.  

"Do nothing!" yelled Voldemort.  "Do nothing unless I command you!"  

Suddenly, the vibrating strands of golden light produced an unearthly sound
that made me believe we had a chance after all.  Phoenix song filled the air,
bolstering the hearts of the good and striking fear in the hearts of the
wicked.  I felt Nagini's grip loosen.  It wasn't enough to where I could
actually move, but it was confirmation that this snake was being effected.  

Echoes of Harry's screams emerged from Voldemort's wand, followed by a spectral
image of Wormtail's silver hand.  Somehow, Harry was forcing Voldemort's wand
to regurgitate its spells.  Voldemort's red eyes widened in horror as a
spectral image of an old man appeared, and rather than fade, looked around and
seemed aware of his surroundings.  A ghostly woman appeared next.  Voldemort's
victims were returning from the grave, and he was as terrified as he ought to
be at that prospect.  

My hands tightened over the metal disks in my hands, each marked with a blood
seal that allowed a human soul to be attached to the metal in a stable
fashion.  I stared as the smoky images of Harry's parents emerged from
Voldemort's wand.  

A moment later, Harry wrenched his wand and broke the connection.  The golden
light vanished instantly along with the phoenix song.  The shades of
Voldemort's victims lingered.  Harry made a run for where I laid, blasting
Nagini with a curse that forced her to release me.  My muscles were tensed for
just that opportunity, and I sprang to my feet.  

I threw both coins as hard as my weakened and half crushed arms could manage,
and in the first instance of good fortune since I'd arrived in this graveyard,
they arrived exactly where I wanted them to.  As the soul coins passed through
the spectral images of Lily and James Potter, I clapped my hands.  Blue light
shone from the blood seals on each coin, and the two ghostly figures vanished.
 

Death Eaters hurled curses after Harry as he ran.  One of the missed curses
blasted a gravestone to bits.  A loud crack came as the boggart was revealed
and once more took on the form of my human remains.  

Blue light surrounded the soul coins and they flew back to my hands, which I
separated to catch one coin in each hand.  I could hear the confused voices of
the Potters emanating from the blood seals.  Just as I closed my fingers around
the two coins, a bolt of green light hit me square in the chest.  With no red
stones left, a boggart mimicking my remains, and a killing curse snuffing out
the life from every cell in my body, I crumpled and knew no more.  

                                     * * *


I'd had a good life, all things considered.  Sure, it was over sooner than I
would have liked.  I had to deal with a lot of painful experiences.  But I'd
had a positive impact on others.  I'd left behind a legacy of knowledge and
progress.  I had loved and been loved in return.  My last act had been trying
to save lives.  I had regrets, but on the whole, I was content.  

My sense of taste was the first thing to return as the familiar, comforting
flavor of red stones stimulated my tongue.  Then came my sense of touch.  My
body felt just as weak and broken as it had when I fell in the graveyard. 
Every muscle ached, I had broken bones in various places, and my rib cage had
been crushed, collapsing my lungs.  I could hear people crowded around me, and
I opened my eyes.  

Sloth and Ron were standing over me.  I was lying on the Quidditch field
outside the maze.  More people than I could count were crowding in to get a
look at me.  I tried to speak, but found I couldn't with collapsed lungs.  

"Greed, it's okay," said Sloth.  "Harry brought you back.  He told us Wormtail
drained your red stones.  I knew you weren't really dead.  You didn't melt."  

"We force fed you all the red stones we had on us," said Ron.  "You still don't
look so good."  

I raised my hands to clap and found that I still had the two soul coins
clenched in a death grip.  I shoved both coins ad Sloth who took them.  The
voices of the Potters to continued to ask where they were and why they couldn't
move.  

I clapped and saw a broken bone protruding from my left forearm.  Deciding to
deal with it later, I pressed my palms to my chest.  My rib cage shifted into
place and my lungs re inflated.  It was a quick and dirty patch job, but it
would be enough to let me talk.  

"Where's Harry?" I wheezed.  

"Professor Moody took him to the hospital wing," said Sloth.  

I caughed up blood and choked out, "Voldemort's back.  He has a new body.  I
saw it happen."  

"Harry said the same thing," said Ron.  

"Greed, who are these?" asked Sloth, holding the soul coins toward me.  

"Harry's parents," I said weakly.  "I don't know how, but their ghosts came
back to protect him."  

"Harry's parents?" asked Sloth staring down at the coins.  

I nodded, then asked, "Did they catch Krum?"  

"They did," said Ron.  "Did you leave that note?"  

Suddenly, Dumbledore broke off a conversation he'd been having with Minister
Fudge, grabbed McGonagall and Snape, and took off at a run toward the castle.  

"Something's wrong," said Sloth.  

"Go help," I said, taking back the soul coins.  "I'll be okay."  

She nodded and ran after Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape.  I got to my feet
with Ron's help.  Once I was standing, I stomped a foot and opened a staircase
into my lab.  I'd be dismantling it today anyway, as it was obviously not
secure enough with Voldemort back.  But I still had barrels of finished red
stones down there, and I was going to need them.  Once inside, I clapped and
sealed myself and Ron inside, preventing anyone from following.  

Ron watched me nervously, his hands ready to catch me if I collapsed.  I must
have looked worse than I felt, which was saying something.  I set the soul
coins down on a table, leaned over a barrel filled with red stones, and started
shoveling them into my mouth.  In no time, my body had fully regenerated.  

I avoided eating any more than I needed to heal.  I would be needing them for
what came next.  Beyond that, I'd just stared my own death in the face and
returned.  I'd learned that boggarts could emulate my remains well enough to
weaken or paralyze me, but not well enough to make my death permanent.  There
were questions about my homunculus body I still hadn't answered, and I had some
experiments in mind that could only be done when fully depleted.  

"Excuse me, I think we've been very patient, but can you please explain what is
going on?" came the voice of James Potter.  

"We were only supposed to be able to linger for a few moments after the prior
encantum ended," said Lily Potter's voice.  

"Now that my lungs aren't punctured and my limbs aren't broken, I can explain,"
I said with a smile.  I gestured for Ron to have a seat on my couch beside me
as I sat down.  

"Your souls have been attached to a pair of metal coins using alchemy.  The
details get a little technical, but as long as the blood seals are still
intact, you'll remain in your current state.  I can release you back to
whatever afterlife you were enjoying if you want, or I can give you flesh and
blood bodies of your own."  

"Wait, are you talking about doing what Voldemort did, but to us?" asked James.
 

"My way is a little different," I said.  "Instead of your own body, I'll build
you a new body.  One that can regenerate from any injury, which will be immune
to age, and which has strength beyond that of a normal human."  

"That sounds like dark magic," said Lily suspiciously.  

"It isn't magic at all," I said.  "It's science.  And there's no taking bits of
people unwillingly.  No one had to die to bring you back.  If I understand what
happened at the graveyard right, you came back to protect Harry from
Voldemort.  I'm offering to return you to the flesh so you can do just that. 
Voldemort isn't done with Harry.  He's going to need all the help and
protection he can get."  

"This is what you've been training me for," said Ron.  "I've been learning
alchemy so I could bring back Harry's parents."  

I shook my head.  "I can do this on my own.  I don't need you to risk the Gate
to bring them back.  If you do this, it'll be for you.  For your development as
an alchemist, Ron.  I want to see you reach your potential, but I won't force
you or guilt you into it.  Harry's parents can come back either way."  

Ron looked contemplative.  "Suppose they take something vital like my heart. 
What happens then?"  

"I'll be supervising.  If you're at risk of dying, I'll attach your soul to a
coin and then make you a homunculus body."  

He nodded.  "I want to do this for him."  

"I'm glad to hear it.  Unless either of you two want your blood seals broken, I
think we should get started on our preparations."  

                                     * * *


Ron and I set to work relocating equipment to the Chamber of Secrets.  Between
Mad-Eye Moody, Barty Crouch Jr., Wormtail, and probably Voldemort through them,
there were too many people who knew about my lab for it to be safe to operate
out of it anymore.  I used a transmutation circle on my shoulder to emulate
Sloth's powers so we wouldn't have to deal with the crowd.  Once the last of
the equipment was out, I deconstructed the entire lab.  

Sloth found us down there while Ron was drawing his human transmutation
circle.  I had transmuted a false wall on one side of the Chamber to put our
alchemy supplies in where they wouldn't be seen by Headless Nick during our
fencing lessons.  The Chamber of Secrets was so large, putting up a dividing
wall to section off enough space to make up for my destroyed lab was barely
noticeable.  

"There you are," said Sloth.  "What are you doing down here?"  

"I moved all our stuff down here," I said.  "I didn't want another of
Voldemort's agents getting to it again."  

"Didn't Voldemort find this place before we did?"  

"If Voldemort's here personally, we've probably got bigger problems than our
stuff," I replied.  

"Point," acknowledged Sloth.  "Well, it turns out it wasn't Krum."  

"Wasn't Krum?" I repeated.  "He tortured me with the cruciatus curse in the
maze!"  

"He was under the imperius curse when he did it," said Sloth.  "Turns out Moody
was Barty Crouch all year.  He turned back after Dumbledore rescued Harry from
him.  They used vertiasyrum and he explained the whole thing."  

"You mean-?" I asked.  

"Yep," said Sloth cheerfully.  "That pervert is getting a life sentence in
Azkaban."  

"Pervert?" asked Ron.  

"Keep on that circle," I told Ron.  "So, is the real Moody dead?"  

"No," said Sloth.  "He was locked up in his own trunk all year.  Harry's got
his map back, and both him and the real Moody are in the hospital wing."  

"Are we going to get a defense professor that doesn't try to kill us at some
point?" I asked.  

"What about Lupin?" suggested Ron.  

"He transformed and tried to kill us.  I'm counting it," I said.  

"Maybe we should just kill the next one on the first day of class and save
ourselves the trouble," Sloth joked.  

"Nah," I said.  "Lupin and Fake Moody did actually teach us some useful stuff. 
Even Lockheart pointed us toward what may be a cure for lycanthropy.  I say we
learn everything they can teach us, then kill them."  

Sloth, Ron, and I laughed.  James and Lily didn't.  

"Has a defense professor really tried to kill you every year?" asked Lily.  

"Well, they try to kill Harry," I said.  "We just get in the way of them trying
as best we can."  

"Remus tried to kill Harry?" asked James stunned.  

"It was a full moon and he had a lot on his mind that night," said Sloth.  

"Even so, once I can move again, we'll be having words," said James.  

"With Dumbledore first," insisted Lily.  "He has four years of staffing
decisions to answer for."  

"There," said Ron.  "It's ready."  

I looked over the array Ron had been learning about since Christmas.  It looked
right.  The ingredients had been laid out in a pile in the center.  

"We should go see Harry, then," I said.  "A drop of his blood on each array to
provide the template.  His blood from theirs."  

I picked up the coins, and Sloth led Ron and I up to the hospital wing.  As we
approached, we heard voices.  First was Dumbledore.  

"What has happened?  Why are you disturbing these people?  Minverva, I'm
surprised at you.  I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch."  

"There's no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" yelled
McGonagall, livid with rage.  "The Minster has seen to that!"  

We entered the room to see Molly and Bill Weasley standing at Harry's bedside. 
Moody was in a separate bed on the other side of the ward, unconscious. 
Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Fudge were all in the room.  Sirius was at Harry's
bedside as well in his dog form.  

Snape spoke in a low, controlled voice.  "When we told Mr. Fudge that we had
caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events, he seemed to feel his
personal safety was in question.  He insisted on summoning a dementor to
accompany him into the castle."  

"You had the kiss administered without a trial?" I demanded, horrified.  

"By all accounts, he is no loss," said Fudge, puffing up.  "It seems he has
been responsible for several deaths!"  

Dumbledore replied, "But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius.  He cannot
give evidence about why he killed those people."  

"Why he killed them?  Well that's no mystery, is it?  He was a raving lunatic!"
declared Fudge.  "From what Minvera and Severus have told me, he seems to have
thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"  

"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. 
"Those people's deaths were mere byproducts of a plan to restore Voldemort to
full strength again.  The plan succeeded.  Voldemort has been restored to his
body."  

Fudge didn't, or wouldn't, believe.  Harry and I told him what we saw, and he
brushed us off with a reference to Rita Skeeter's article from this morning. 
Snape showed him the Dark Mark tattooed on his forearm that darkened to a deep
red when Voldemort's strength returned, and turned black and burned hot when
Voldemort summoned them to his side. Fudge ignored him, acting as though this
was some sort of elaborate prank.  James and Lily were dismissed as a pair of
charmed coins, made to say whatever Harry wanted them to say.  

Dumbledore tried to convince Fudge to remove the dementors from Azkaban, as
they would join Voldemort first chance they got, and would release his loyal
servants on the way out.  He also tried to convince Fudge to court the giants
before Voldemort made them a better offer.  In the end, Fudge stormed off.  He
paused to drop the thousand galleons prize money on Harry's nightstand for us
to divvy up.  

"If you need anything more from us, just say the word," I said as Dumbledore
began distributing orders to Sirius, Snape, Bill, and McGonagall.  

"We shall talk at length later," said Dumbledore.  "For now, I think we would
all benefit from having James and Lily back."  

"I need a bit of your blood, Harry," said Ron.  "I know you've been through a
lot tonight, but-"  

"Take it," said Harry, extending his arm.  I cut off a bit of his bloodstained
sleave.  

"It won't be long, I promise," I told Harry.  


                                     * * *


Sloth kept the soul coins in the next room, while I supervised Ron's human
transmutation attempt.  He would be making a homunculus body for James.  I had
a fresh soul coin ready to use on Ron in an emergency.  He dropped a scrap of
Harry's bloody robe on the top of the pile of ingredients and put his hands on
the array.  

Gold light poured from the array, which began to flicker red and blue as the
reaction built power.  Then, the Gate opened.  I was far enough back that I
risked neither exposure to the Truth, nor the loss of body parts to the Gate
Children, but I was close enough to see what was happening to Ron.  

He stared into the Gate, overwhelmed by what he saw there as the tiny black
hands reached out on their amorphous, tentacle-like arms to grab hold of him in
various places.  Flesh began to break down near his left shoulder, and from
that point, the deconstruction spread down his arm until at last his fingertips
vanished in sparks of golden light. The Gate closed then vanished.  I could
hear the labored breathing of the newborn homunculus and sobs of pain coming
from Ron.  

I was at Ron's side in an instant, stopping the bleeding with a red stone.  I
avoided going too far with my healing attempts, lest I unintentionally
interfere with something Madam Pomfrey could do for him.  I quickly headed out
to Sloth and retrieved James' soul coin and brought it back in to Ron, who was
looking between his bloody shoulder and the misshapen pile of organs he'd given
his left arm to create.  He looked like he wanted to throw up.  

"We talked about this," I said firmly.  "The oroboros mark is on a patch of
skin somewhere in that mess.  You need to find it and attach this soul."  

I'd drilled him on this repeatedly through the term, and that training kicked
in as he numbly began to step toward the homunculus.  Dropping to his knees, he
began sifting through the mass with his one hand.  Eventually, he found it, and
pressed the soul coin to the oroboros mark.  Blue light accompanied the
transmutation, and suddenly, the gasps of the homunculus became more panicked
and desperate.  

"Good, the soul's attached," I said.  "Only one step left."  I handed a basket
of red stones to Ron.  

He was pale and wretched more than once, but he kept it together and put stone
after stone in the homunculus' mouth until its organs properly rearranged
themselves, its bones were all under its skin, and its breathing was easy.  A
black robe covered the body of a purple eyed, black haired James Potter.  The
oroboros mark had migrated to his right ankle.  

James looked at his hands and flexed his fingers, then his eyes fixed on Ron. 
"We have to get you to the hospital wing!"  

"Go," I said.  "I'll take care of Lily."  

James lifted Ron up in his arms and carried him out of the room.  Ron
gratefully collapsed now that his work was done.  I clapped and used alchemy to
scribe my own human transmutation array.  

With practiced efficiency, I measured the ingredients into a tray at the center
of my array, then touched the nearest line of the circle.  I circulated energy
through the circle, and it glowed blue.  As it had before, the Gate opened. 
The experience of having all the knowledge in the universe forced through your
mind is never something you get so used to as to become mundane.  I'd trained
to stay focused in the face of this burst of omniscience to be able to protect
myself from the Gate Children, clapping and deconstructing their grasping limbs
as they reached out to take something away from me, but seeing a unified
understanding of physics, alchemy, history, and even magic pass before my
mind's eye never ceased to be an intense experience.  

Gaps in my knowledge were filled.  Theories I had right became facts.  False
ideas were revealed as such and shattered on exposure to the Truth. No human
mind could retain everything that I saw.  Only bits and pieces that I could
latch on to because they were related to things I already knew remained.  

The Gate closed, and I retrieved the soul coin from Sloth. When Lily Potter was
fully regenerated, her oroboros mark was on the nape of her neck.  The three of
us walked upstairs.  Harry and Ron were waiting for us in the hospital wing.  

                                     * * *


"Mum, it's alright, really.  Greed didn't put me up to it.  It was my choice,"
I heard Ron's voice as he tried to placate his mother.  

"Can Madam Pomfrey grow your arm back?" I asked stepping into the room.  Lily
joined James in private conversation with Harry.  

"If you had the arm I could reattach it, no problem," said Madam Pomfrey
angrily.  "I have to do it all the time on splinching victims during apparition
lessons.  But no, I can't just grow back severed limbs.  What were you
thinking?"  

"I'd really rather you waited until you were older before becoming a
homunculus," I said, contemplatively.  

"Wait until he's older?!" demanded Mrs. Weasley.  "That didn't stop you from
letting him do whatever it was that lost him an arm!"  

"Mrs. Weasley,-" I started, but she continued on.  

"I see you still have all your limbs!  We took you into our home!  We trusted
you!"  

"Ron is alive!" I shouted back, my forceful tone taking her by surprise.  "He
made the choice to risk life and limb to bring Harry's parents back, and he
succeeded!  This isn't the first time he's risked life and limb for Harry's
sake, and it won't be the last!  What Ron went through today has left him with
new powers that will hopefully let him survive the war that's coming!  And if
Madam Pomfrey can't give him back his arm, I will!"  

"Mum, you read that Quibbler article I sent you?" said Ron.  "That's what we
made Harry's parents into.  Greed offered it to me and Harry too.  He just
things I should wait until I'm full grown."  

"And why didn't you wait until he was full grown to do this?" demanded Mrs.
Weasley.  

"Because he was ready for it," I said firmly.  "Ron is a brilliant alchemist
who spent the last half year hearing about the risks.  Every precaution that
could be taken was taken, and he succeeded beyond the wildest dreams of even
most Amestrian alchemists.  He made hsi choice and now he gets to make
another.  Ron, if you want me to make you a homunculus now, I can.  If you want
to wait, I'll talk to Dumbledore about getting you a prosthetic that'll get you
functional."  

"If you think I should wait, I'll wait," said Ron.  "If you can hurry up with
that new arm, though, I think it'll calm mom down a bit."

I left quickly and headed back up to my dorm.  I collected my time turner and
invisibility cloak from my trunk, donned the cloak, and went back in time.  I
sneaked in to where Barty Crouch was being held, and I waited for Fudge to
arrive.  The dementor didn't even wait for an order before leaning down to
perform the kiss.  Either Fudge had already ordered the kiss before even seeing
Crouch, or the dementors were even more out of control than I already
suspected.  

Before the dementor could devour Crouch Jr.'s soul, I pressed a soul coin to
his bare flesh and stole it first.  Souls were too valuable to be wasted as
dementor food.  I slipped out with my prize and waited, invisibly, for a chance
to talk to Dumbledore about Ron's arm.  

When I found him, the human transmutation attempt would already be underway.  I
took off my invisibility cloak and approached Dumbledore as he walked alone
through a hallway in the castle.  He didn't seem slightly surprised to see me.
 

"Mr. Oren, I'd been hoping to talk with you about what happened in the
graveyard," Dumbledore said.  "I have already spoken with Harry and gotten his
version of events.  Would you please come up to my office and share your
version?"  

I did exactly that, and was soon relating what I had seen and done once Harry
and I grasped the Triwizard cup.  When I'd finished, I then explained what I
had done with the soul coins containing Harry's parents, and what Ron had
sacrificed to make it possible.  

"That spell Voldemort did for Wormtail," I said, "can you do that for Ron?"  

"Lord Voldemort possesses many powers I have never had," said Dumbledore.  Then
a smile appeared on his face as he continued, "However, this is not one of
them.  I shall make my way down to visit Mr. Weasley this very moment."  

Dumbledore got up and I followed him down to the hospital wing.  We arrived a
few minutes after I left.  Everyone looked up.  

"James, Lily, it is lovely to see the both of you again," said Dumbledore by
way of greetings.  "I would like to speak with both of you regarding Harry's
living arrangements this summer, but first, I need to speak with the young Mr.
Weasley.  I won't be long."  

Dumbledore walked up to Ron's bedside and drew his wand.  "You did a brave and
noble thing for Harry today.  One I am certain your friend will not soon
forget."  

Dumbledore waved his wand just as Voldemort had, and a trail of silver followed
the wand.  After a moment, it formed and shaped itself into an arm, which
attached itself to Ron's shoulder.  Ron flexed his fingers and found he could
use his arm just as though it were his own flesh and blood.  

Mrs. Weasley warmed up considerably now that Ron's limb had been replaced. 
Dumbledore drew the curtains around Harry's bed and cast a spell to muffle
sounds so they could speak privately.  Ron clapped his hands and touched a
goblet full of water at his bedside.  The water glowed blue and froze solid.  

"Now I don't need a circle either," said Ron, pleased.  

"I told you he got new powers," I said to Mrs. Weasley.  "From what I've
managed to learn about this world's history, Ron is the first human being in
this world to be able to do what he just did.  You should be very proud of
him.  I am."  

"Oh, I am proud of you, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley, pulling her son into a hug. 
"I love you so much.  Please, don't worry me like that again."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Raising the Potters from the dead is a bit I wanted to do since starting in on
this story.  Their influence is going to end up a much bigger impact than Sloth
and Greed have had so far. 
***** Explanations and Aftermath *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 43) Explanations and
Aftermath
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Ron and Harry were released from the hospital wing a few days later.  Harry was
worried about Voldemort's return, and traumatized by what he went through in
the graveyard.  He was also processing the fact that his dead parents had come
back to life.  We had all agreed to let Harry come to us if he needed to talk,
but otherwise to give him time and space to process it all for himself.  

Ron spent time showing off his new alchemic abilities, as well as the
superhuman strength of his magical silver arm.  I fielded any questions about
what had happened in the maze, so Harry wouldn't have to.  It seemed a large
part of the student body believed Rita Skeeter's account of Harry being a
dangerous and unstable person who was making up stories, and that the rest of
us were lackeys backing up Harry's story out of loyalty or credulousness. 
Still, anyone who bothered to ask got the details of Voldemort's rebirth.  

Sloth and I gave James and Lily the basics about how their new bodies worked. 
Dumbledore sent Lupin to their graves to vanish their remains so they couldn't
be used against them.  He'd further explained the blood wards he'd set up to
James and Lily.  Harry'd have to go back to staying with the Dursleys over the
summer, so James and Lily were going to be staying as house guests with them.  

We'd barely had time to sort out various details by the time of the leaving
feast.  The real Moody had recovered, and was at the staff table, still twitchy
and nervous from his ordeal.  I apologized to Krum for suspecting him of being
behind this, and expressed my hope that he'd stay in touch and not beat himself
up too badly for what he'd done under the Imperious curse.  In his speech,
Dumbledore explained about Voldemort's rebirth, and that the Ministry was
refusing to believe the truth.  He extended an open invitation to our foreign
guests to return at any time, reminding everyone that we all stand together in
the fight against the dark side.  

A few final details were cleared up on the Hogwarts Express, including that
Karkaroff had decided to flea rather than rejoin the Death Eaters, that Crouch
Sr. had been under the Imperius curse all year and Percy was being investigated
for missing it, and that Crouch Jr. had killed his father when he broke free
and came to Hogwarts to warn Dumbledore.  

"I don't understand why you aren't restocking on red stones," said Sloth as I
examined a patch of skin on my arm I'd deliberately burned shortly after
convincing Dumbledore to make Ron a new arm.  

"Because I got complacent and it nearly got me killed," I replied.  "The
boggart couldn't keep me dead permanently, but if Harry hadn't thought to
retrieve my body, would I have laid there forever without help, or would I have
eventually recovered?  We rely so much on our regeneration, we don't have
enough data to know what would've happened.  I'll eat up once I have my
answers."  

"I'm sorry we had to find out this way," said Sloth, "but it's comforting to
know the boggart thing won't do it."  

I nodded my agreement.  "I also need to give some thought to what happened when
Nagini pinned me.  I can't let that be a winning move next time."  

"Next time, you won't have to fight alone," said Sloth, squeezing my hand. 
"So, how long do you figure it'll be before Rita Skeeter writes up a hit piece
on Fudge for ignoring Voldemort?"  

"No idea how long it'll take," I said, "but it won't be Rital Skeeter.  I
talked to Hermione.  She figured out Skeeter's been spying on us all year as a
beetle. She's an unregistered animagus.  Chamber of Secrets is still secret. 
Advantages of Slytherin's wards and a basilisk.  But she's been most everywhere
else in the school.  Anyway, Hermione's blackmailing her into not writing for a
year."  

"That's actually pretty harsh for what she actually did," said Sloth.  

"She really didn't like being Lust in Skeeter's article," I said.  

                                     * * *


It was a good thing Harry and his parents were back with the Dursleys for the
summer.  It meant he didn't have to watch the macabre experiments I spent the
first week performing on myself.  Since the trace only attached to underage
wizards, the Ministry had no way to detect magic around Sloth and I, so I used
the time turner liberally in my experiments.  

The results included both good news and bad news.  The good news was that even
with no red stones in our bodies, we would eventually heal fully from any
injury.  The burn on my arm would have caused permanent nerve damage in a
human, but I could feel the patch of skin as soon as the scab cleared.  That
suggested even if we were seemingly dead, we would eventually heal back to
life.  

The bad news was that eventually represented a very long time.  Intact but dead
tissue healed faster than missing tissue, but if the numbers held up, an Adava
Kedavra would take us out of commission for years before we regained
consciousness.  And even at that point, it would be years more before we would
be able to move under our own power.  

I'd spent a subjective month cutting my body open, looking at my body under a
microscope, and extrapolating based on how my body responded to certain types
of damage.  It had hurt, but the knowledge gained made it worth it for me.  But
it wasn't just me suffering.  A week of watching me hurt myself over and over
again was about all Sloth could stand, so I accepted this was the data I had,
ate a full barrel of red stones and regenerated back to perfect health.  

"I've been keeping up with Harry while you've been busy," said Sloth. 
"Apparently, James tried to be on his best behavior to make up for something
that happened before they died.  Lily just about exploded when she found out
how they were treating Harry, though.  Said she'd never have agreed to take
Harry back there if it weren't for Voldemort actually being back."  

"How's Harry taking all this?" I asked.  

"He's glad to have his mom and dad back, but he's getting pretty frustrated
that the Daily Prophet's still painting him as crazy and denying Voldemort's
back."  

"Sure taking his time to start his reign of terror, isn't he?" I noted.  

"I'd bet he's taking advantage of the Ministry being in denial to marshal and
consolidate his forces," said Sloth thoughtfully.  "His inner circle came back
in the graveyard, but you don't take over the world with thirty wizards."  

"Any response from Krum yet?" I asked.  

"Not since the owl he sent telling you it might take time to research," said
Sloth with a smirk.  

"He did something to his soul," I said firmly.  "It's the only thing that
could've made the soul coin fail like it did in the graveyard.  I've never seen
any mention of magic that might do that in the Hogwarts library and I
assimilated the whole forbidden section last year."  

"I'm sure if it's in the Durmstrang library, Viktor'll find it.  You remember
how eager he was to make it up to you for that cruciatus curse."  

As if on cue, an owl arrived bearing a letter from Viktor Krum.  The package of
documents came with a warning from Krum that I should never attempt to perform
the magic described.  The documents described an artifact called a horcrux. 
According to the theory, murder causes a part of the soul to break off.  Using
a spell, the killer can bind the severed piece of their soul to an object. 
That object, called a horcrux, served as an anchor for the rest of the wizard's
spirit, preventing them from fully dying and instead causing them to linger on
as an incorporeal spirit until means can be found to restore themselves to a
body.  

The description of the resulting object was familiar.  Riddle's diary.  He had
used murdering Myrtle to make his first horcrux.  There were obviously more,
since according to the information, destroying the horcrux severs the anchor
and causes the incorporeal spirit to pass on.  A wizard with a horcurx can feel
the severing of his anchor and make a new one if he's embodied at the time, but
the diary had been destroyed before Wormtail found him and constructed the
rudimentary body for him.  

Horcurxes were apparently difficult to destroy.  Basilisk venom and a kind of
enchanted, quasisentient flame called fiendfyre could do the job.  Apparently,
Salazar Slytherin had helped his friend Godric Gryffindor improve his sword
back in the day by impregnating it with basilisk venom.  It was a pity the
rivalry between their houses had gotten so bad in recent years.  

"We have to pass this on to Dumbledore," said Sloth.  "He seems to be the one
running the anti-Voldemort activities until the Ministry pulls their head out
of their ass."  

I nodded.  "We should also send a copy to Sirius and see if he can put together
anything he heard in Azkaban to figure out what other objects Voldemort used."
 

"You write the letters up," said Sloth.  "I'll head next door and fill in Harry
and his parents."  

"No, I should go," I said.  "I've been so absorbed with my experiments, I
haven't been by to see him all week."  

Sloth got stated on the letters and I walked next door.  I noted with a kind of
petty satisfaction that the water use restrictions from the dry weather had
left their lawn parched and yellow.  Ours,meanwhile, was flourishing thanks to
having been alchemically modified to require less care and upkeep.  I knocked
on the Dursleys' front door.  

Petunia opened it and let out a scandalized gasp.  "You can't be dressed like
that!"  

I was wearing my default black outfit with boots, long pants, and an open half
vest that showed off the oroboros tatoo in the center of my chest.  It wasn't
that I was dressed like a wizard.  It was that she thought I looked like a
juvenile delinquent.  I still hadn't shifted from my fourteen year old form.  

"Is Harry here?" I asked, ignoring her comment.  I asked loudly enough to make
sure if he was in, he'd hear.  And so the neighbors would take more and more
notice of my presence the longer she refrained from inviting me in.  It worked
on both counts, with Petunia stepping aside and Harry coming down the stairs.  

"Greed, how are you doing?" asked Harry.  

"I'm still working through what happened in the graveyard," I admitted,
stepping inside.  "How about you?"  

"My scar's hurting a lot more often now that Voldemort's back to full
strength," reported Harry.  "I'm still having nightmares about what happened."
 

"Advantages of not needing to sleep," I acknowledged.  "Anyway, I have some
information.  Are your parents here?"  

"Dad's off doing something for Dumbledore.  Says he can't talk about it." 
Harry's face had a resentful expression on it.  It was hardly surprising, given
that he just got his parents back.  "Mom's in the back, though."  

We headed into the kitchen where Lily Potter was brewing a potion on the
Dursleys' stove top.  Petunia didn't look happy about it, but she didn't
comment.  Obviously, they'd already had this out.  Lily was wearing a borrowed
dress of Petunia's, probably in a token effort to blend in to the muggle
surroundings.  

"How are you adapting to your new body?" I asked her as we came in.  

"It's a little strange," she admitted.  "I still can't get used to not ever
getting tired."  

"What are you brewing?" I asked.  

"Something for Harry," she replied.  "It induces a deep, restful, dreamless
sleep.  Until the nightmares go away on their own, it'll make sure he actually
manages to get the rest he needs."  

"I've come over to let you know word came back from Viktor Krum.  I think I
know what Voldemort did to himself that prevented the soul coin from working,
and that prevented him from dying all the way last time."  

I explained, in detail, what I knew and suspected about the horcruxes.  Unless
we figured out a way of finding and identifying the objects he used, killing
Voldemort's current body would be a temporary measure at best.  Worse, Harry
noted, was that now that his Death Eaters had seen him come back, they won't
dare abandon his cause again if we did drive him back into spirit form, so he'd
return much faster.  

"I'll make sure Dumbledore hears about this," promised Lily.  "James and I have
been switching off, one of us with Harry and the other helping Dumbledore."  

"You and Dumbledore are getting on again?" I asked.  

"He had a very well rehearsed explanation," said Lily.  "I'd have given him
worse, but with Voldemort back, we don't want him crippled."  

Harry smiled at that.  He knew his parents would die for him.  They'd done it
once already.  And now they were standing up to Dumbledore on his behalf too. 
They'd kept the row private, to not undermine Dumbledore's efforts to rally the
wizarding world against Voldemort, but htey'd still had it out.  

"Can I walk Greed home?" asked Harry.  

"Okay, but come right back," said Lily.  "In a few minutes, we'll need to add
some valerium root, and you could use all the practice you can get dicing. 
OWLs next term, and I won't have you failing potions."  

As we left the house, Harry said, "Potions was mom's best subject.  Dad's just
as insistent I do well on my Transfiguration OWL."  

"How does it feel to be in a house with people encouraging your magical
studies?" I asked with a smile.  

"It's great," said Harry enthusiastically.  "I can't thank you enough for what
you did.  You and Ron."  

"I only wish I had more coins in the graveyard," I said.  "We should make
capturing Death Eater wands a priority.  We might be able to revive more of
those killed by the Adava Kedavra."  

"That's a good idea," said Harry.  "Listen, there's something I wanted to talk
to you about.  You know the prize money for winning the tournament?"  

"You keep it," I said.  "I'm taking full advantage of there not being any laws
against making gold with alchemy here."   

"I thought you'd feel that way, but I wanted to be sure," said Harry. 
"Actually, I've got plenty of gold too.  I wanted to give the tournament
winnings to Fred and George."

"Ron can make gold too," I reminded him.  

"I know, but they're proud.  All the Weasleys are.  They let Ron help out here
and there, and he's been giving them great Christmas presents, but the twins
won't take it from Ron to start their joke shop.  I'm going to call it an
investment and see if that does the trick."  

"Good luck," I said.  "I hope they take it.  Those canary creams they were
passing around last year were inspired, an I hear they've improved on their ton
tongue toffees.  They were born to run a joke shop."  

"Well, I'll see you around," said Harry.  

"You know you're welcome to come over any time you like, right?  I'm sure
Sloth's said as much."  

"Yeah, she has.  I just... I know you were still dealing with things."  

"Dealing with what happened and beating you at video games on Dudley's 'broken'
playstation aren't mutually exclusive.  I mean it, come by sometime."  

"You had a lucky run last time," said Harry with a smile.  

"Prove it," I challenged, sporting a smile of my own.  

Harry waved goodbye and returned to his aunt and uncle's house where his mother
was waiting to help supervise his root dicing.  I paused to reflect, and
concluded that twice as much good had come of that fight in the graveyard as
bad.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Now that our heroes know Horcruxes are a thing, the hunt can begin. 
***** Romantic Interlude 20 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 44) Romantic Interlude 20
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 45.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


"Owls are away," said Sloth as I returned home.  

"I think I talked Harry into coming by for a visit," I said.  

She nodded, then asked, "How are you feeling, Greed?"  

"Like a lot of people care about me very much, and have put up with a lot of
neglect for my sake," I said.  "Thank you for giving me some time to deal with
it."  

"And I didn't even say a word about how four of you were walking around the
house at all hours, but you were more interested in how your cuts and burns
were healing than in me," said Sloth slyly.  

"Especially after the year we had, only ever able to steal a few minutes of
privacy when we were alone in the Chamber of Secrets together.  You've been a
saint to wait a full week after that."  

Our lips met, and a crackle of alchemic energy surged over the both of us as we
shifted into our default forms.  I was holding her off the ground by the time
our bodies finished shifting.  I broke our kiss and shifted to the side so that
a second me could take my place.  While my future self continued to kiss Sloth,
I moved behind her, still holding her up off the ground.  

Both mes worked together to shift Sloth into position while future me continued
to kiss her and present me put the head of my penis between her butt cheeks. 
My future self broke the kiss long enough for Sloth to let out a pleased call
as we lowered her down, my penis squeezing into her tiny, tight asshole.  

Future me kissed her and groped at her chest a little longer while I got into a
rhythm of shifting Sloth up and down on my penis.  Then, he broke the kiss and
leaned Sloth forward.  Seeing where this was going, Sloth eagerly wrapped her
lips around the tip of his penis and sucked until the whole head was firmly in
her mouth.  

Our hands on Sloth's body were now serving only as gentle guides, and to feel
up her body.  Her weight was being suspended successfully between the two
penises.  I pressed in and pulled back, trusting Sloth to keep a firm enough
hold on my future self's penis with her mouth to keep from falling.  

When a third me arrived with the time turner around his neck, the two of us
already having sex with Sloth shifted around to accommodate him.  Without
taking the penis out of her mouth, the first future me stepped to the side and
onto an elevated surface.  Meanwhile, Sloth, my penis still firmly up her ass,
was brought back into an upright position.  

The new me who had arrived watched Sloth having sex with us for a long moment
before bending down and kissing her flat chest.  Sloth had moved a hand to the
shaft of the penis she was sucking on to give that me a little extra
stimulation, and used her other hand to guide the third me's mouth toward one
of her nipples.  

Sloth's hips shifted as the third me kissed his way down Sloth's body and began
to stimulate her eager pussy with his tongue.  Already overstimulated by two
lovers, a third starting to perform cunnilingus on her tipped her over the
edge.  I could feel Sloth's anus spasming and her body tensing with her
climax.  I couldn't hold out any longer and began to spurt ejaculate into her
ass.  There was still so much more to do, I let my orgasm run its course in a
normal human time frame, then used a small spark of regeneration energy to
overcome my refractory period and stay hard inside her.  

Once sloth let herself finish orgasming, she redoubled her efforts with the
version of me she was performing oral sex on, ultimately being rewarded with an
orgasm from him.  I could see her throat working and her cheeks shifting as she
began swallowing cum.  He, likewise didn't draw it out, so soon she was back to
sucking and stroking.  

The third me licked his lips, stood up, and pressed his penis into Sloth's
vagina.  I could feel things shifting and tightening inside her as he welt. 
Now with a penis in all three major orifices, Sloth was having even more
trouble concentrating.  Fortunately, her lack of focus was made up for in
enthusiasm, and soon all four of us were in the throes of orgasm.  

Sloth tried to swallow, but couldn't get the timing right as her own climax
regularly caused her to lose her breath.  As a result, semen was leaking out
from between her lips at a good rate.  We filled her tiny body up every way we
could before she allowed herself to go limp with exhaustion.  

I pulled out of Sloth's butt and used the time turner, reliving the scene twice
more, first with Sloth's eager mouth trying to keep up as she suckled on my
penis, then finally as I used my tongue to push her to orgasm then penetrated
her tighter than usual vagina.  The triple penetration was more than she'd been
expecting, and she gradually came around to her normal level of attentiveness
as my past selves withdrew and vanished.  Finally, we both allowed our stamina
to run dry and we lay side by side on the floor.  There was cum dribbling out
of her butt, her vagina, her mouth, and her nostrils.  She was smiling with
flushed cheeks as her flat chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.  

"You know," she said, still smiling, "satisfying three of you at once isn't as
easy as it looks."  

"We were teaming up to satisfy you," I said.  "I hope we've been able to do
more than frustrate you."  

"Packing three hours of sex into one hour for me was a nice treat," she said. 
"I'm certainly not complaining.  It's certainly a nice start."  

"If I'd known you were going to drain my red stones like this, I wouldn't have
bothered to hold off eating them," I teased with a grin.  

"Well, since I was at the center last time," she said, lifting the gold chain
of my time turner off my neck and placing it around her own, "It's only fair
that you be in the center of the next one."  

We claned up with alchemy, getting ready for a fresh start.  Then, suddenly,
Ginny, Luna, Hermione, and Fleur's eight year old sister Gabrielle appeared in
the room.  Still naked, Sloth hopped up and retrieved bottles from a cabinet
and passed them around.  

"Shrinking solutions," she said.  "You all know Greed likes 'em young.  Bottoms
up, girls."  

Shooting glances and smiles in my direction, each of them took a swig from her
bottle and regressed in age to the point they all looked to be about four. 
Their robes hung awkwardly off them, and they helped one another out of them,
each girl making sure I got a good look at her body as she disrobed.  

"You have really been thinking about this hard," I said to Sloth, impressed and
intrigued.  

"I tried not to," she said with a shrug, "but it was a long year, and after
that rescue in the second task..."  

"I had to thank you properly," said Gabrielle eagerly in french.  

"And I still haven't said thank you for my first year," added Ginny, spreading
her arms wide.  

Luna looked at the others.  Then said, "I just thought this sounded fun."  

I walked up to her and whispered, "I helped Luna deal with some bullying in
Ravenclaw, remember?"  

She blushed and said, "That too."  

"Well, now that we're all on theme," said Sloth, "I think it's time for his
reward."  

All five girls rushed me and knocked me backward.  Flat on my back, they took
up position in a practiced, coordinated fashion.  Gabrielle was kissing my
mouth eagerly, our tongues intertwining.  Hermione and Ginny pressed their
bodies against em on either side of me, grinding against my sides and each
licking and sucking on one of my nipples.  Luna pressed herself down onto my
erect penis with difficulty, her vagina squeezing so tight, she had to lower
herself by quarter inches.  Sloth surveyed the scene happily for a moment, then
bent down to start licking my balls.  

Once I got my bearings, I wrapped an arm around each of the girls at my sides. 
I pressed their naked bodies against me, then moved my hands down their backs
until I was groping their butts.  Gabrielle broke our kiss and clambered up,
then squatted down on my face.  I obligingly began licking her.  

My attention was being pulled in five directions at once, but fortunately,
every girl there was making it perfectly clear she was enjoying herself.  I'd
pressed my fingers between the legs of the two girls sucking on my nipples and
began masturbating them when Gabrielle reached her climax and fluid squirted
from her body into my mouth, which I swallowed gratefully before continuing to
stimulate her.  

It wasn't long before I came inside Luna's tight vagina.  She bounced up and
down, happily pumping ejaculate out of me while Sloth continued licking my
testicles.  Luna's own orgasm arrived a few minutes later, while I was still
cumming inside her.  She collapsed onto my chest partway through, her hips
still thrusting as best she could manage and mingling her moans of pleasure
with Gabrielle's.  That tipped Ginny and Hermione over the edge and they both
clenched their legs together to hold my hands in place as they climaxed.  

After ten minutes at the center of a continuous climax of preschool aged girls,
we finally separated.  Sloth played the good hostess and licked every girl's
pussy clean, one by one before properly cleaning everyone up with alchemy. 
Then the five of them changed places and did it all over again.  Over the next
two hours every girl had a ride on my penis, and I'd tasted every girl's
pussy.  Each time, whichever girl was licking my balls licked the other girls'
pussies when changing places.  

Finally, they all stood up, shifted into the form of the girl next to them, and
vanished using the time turner, leaving me alone with Sloth.  Lying across my
body, she closed her eyes and put my time turner back around my neck.  

"Ten hours of terrific sex," she murmured.  "I'm glad you liked my little
scenario.  I know you like variety."  

"I never thought I could feel luckier than I did the first time we made love,"
I said.  "Somehow, you keep managing to make me feel luckier and luckier."  

"You're not the only one who hit the jackpot," she replied sincerely and
snuggled into my chest.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
I'd say the two of them are about as comfortable with using their shape
shifting and time travel as they're likely to get. 
***** The Order of the Phoenix *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 45) The Order of the Phoenix
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Harry came over a lot in the following three weeks.  Letters were coming in
from Ron and Hermione, indicating that Dumbledore had them doing some work for
the war effort, but they couldn't give details.  Owls could be intercepted, and
codes could be cracked.  From what I gathered, the Weasley family was firmly
involved in Dumbledore's plan, as were James, Lily, and Lupin.  Hermione was
being trusted to keep secrets from her muggle parents.  Neville and Luna were
apparently out of the loop the same way Harry, Sloth, and I were.  

Harry had begun to notice semi-regular psychic intrusion attempts.  As these
coincided with the stabs of pain from his scar, he identified the intruder as
Voldemort.  Presumably, Dumbledore suspected this would happen, which was why
he wasn't involving Harry in his plans.  Without being able to coordinate with
Dumbledore on sending fake information, we agreed the best option was to
project a fake view of an isolated but otherwise normal summer.  Harry needed
to conceal his consultations with us and his parents on sensitive subjects, but
could let through his frustration at Dumbledore not involving him and his hopes
that the Ministry of Magic would come to their senses about Voldemort's return.
 

Now that Harry's parents were living with him again, the trace couldn't tell if
any spell cast in the house came from Harry, so James was able to let Harry get
away with practicing dueling and jinxes whenever it was him in the house
instead of Lily.  Harry wasn't the only one preparing himself.  I added flame
alchemy arrays to the backs of my hands as a quasi-permanent addition, and
practiced daily to improve my aim and control.  

I also added a transmutation circle on my back, in the same place as Sloth's
oroboros tattoo.  It had three functions.  First, it allowed me to emulate
Sloth's Ultimate Escape, so I wouldn't have to worry about being pinned next
time I went up against Voldemort and his snake.  Second, it transmuted the
Ultimate Shield on and off of my body, so I could do it without clapping even
if I was drained of red stone energy.  Finally, it repaired my body, sealing
cuts, bending bones, expelling foreign objects, and generally making it so I'd
only need to expend red stone energy when shape shifting or regenerating
something that had been severed completely from my body.  

Sloth helped me practice with passing through matter.  Her experience and
insights helped me progress from walking through walls to traveling underground
safely and forming pseud-handholds to climb sheer surfaces easily.  In a
soundproofed room in our basement, we set up some sandbags and she shot me with
a pistol and a shotgun until I had the trick of phasing through bullets.  

It was evening, about a month since the summer holiday had started, when an
urgent knock came at our door.  A woman I recognized as one of the neighbors
was there, eyeing the street up and down worriedly when I opened it.  She'd
been muttering to herself angrily, but turned and spoke clearly when she saw
me.  

"Harry's been attacked by dementors," she said without preamble.  

"Is he-?" I began before being cut off.  

"He drove them off and I got him home, but he insisted you needed to be told."
 

"Are they still around?" I asked, looking both ways down the street.  

"Can't say," she said.  "There was a pair of them, but Harry drove them off. 
Could be more."  

"If you got Harry home, he'll be safe there," I said.  

"Here's your pin, Greed," said Sloth, handing me the small metal disk I'd
prepared that when pinned to my shirt shielded me from the debilitating effects
of a dementor's presence.  She'd found the pin while I was talking and already
had hers on.  

"Thanks," I said, pinning it to my shirt.  "We can run a patrol of the
neighborhood and take down any that are still here.  Come on, Loki!"  

The woman nodded her assent and said, "Dumbledore says you can take care of
yourselves.  I need to report this to him right away.  Can't count on that
useless Mundungus Fletcher to do it.  If he'd just stayed at his post, none of
this would have happened."  

"We'll talk more later," I said to the woman as Sloth, Loki, and I stepped
out.  I spared a quick glance at the foeglass I had hanging in the living room,
but the only image clear enough to make out was a short, squat woman I'd never
seen before.  

Patrolling the neighborhood, we didn't bother with wands.  They were mostly for
show, and any dementor we found wouldn't be reporting back to its keepers. 
Aside from an unusual number of owls around Harry's house, we couldn't find
anything unusual.  Once we were convinced the neighborhood was secure, we got
home and phoned Harry.  

"Hello?" came Harry's voice.  

"This is Greed.  We just finished a sweep of the neighborhood.  No sign of any
more dementors."  

"Why didn't you get behind the wards?" demanded Harry.  

"If the dementors were still around, they could've attacked the muggles.  You
were safe,so the next priority was to protect them."  

"Okay," said Harry, audibly calming himself down. "If you're done, then, can
you come over here?  Something's happened."  

That something turned out to be an expulsion letter from the Ministry of Magic
for violating the International Statute of Secrecy.  Harry'd used his patronus
to drive off the dementors who were about to eat Dudley's soul, and the
Ministry was counting that as a violation.  

James was absolutely outraged, noting that both the Statute of Secrecy and the
restrictions on underage magic had clauses permitting the use of magic to
protect oneself and others.  I asked how they knew about Dudley being there and
that neither of them cast the patrons charm.  The trace wouldn't have given
them that information.  Of course, the dementors themselves would have known
the details.  

The expulsion letter had been followed a few minutes later by a correction,
indicating that the expulsion would be contingent on a hearing, and not
effective immediately as the first letter said.  Arthur Weasley and likely
Dumbledore as well had intervened on Harry's behalf.  Admittedly, it was more
likely they had saved Fudge's life from a pair of pissed off, magically
empowered, immortal homunculi than that they'd saved Harry's wand and his right
to attend Hogwarts, but James and Lily not needing to burn the Ministry to the
ground as had been their first impulse was a plus.  

"Harry," I asked when those details had been communicated, "what does Mrs. Figg
know about dementors?"  

"I didn't know she knew anything about the magical world until tonight," said
Harry.  "She said she'd been keeping watch over me for Dumbledore.  Apparently
she's a squib."  

"Harry," said Lily with a forced calm, "You said Vernon and Petunia had her
watch you when they went out.  How long have you known her?"  

"As long as I can remember," said Harry with a shrug.  

"I'm going to kill him, James," said Lily.  "He had someone watching over Harry
all these years, and he never did anything about..."  She gave Petunia a
withering glare.  

"We still need him," said James, adopting a jovial mood.  "We should probably
wait until after he helps sort out this hearing."  

While James had tried to brush it off as a joke, Lily had sounded very serious
indeed about her intent to murder Albus Dumbledore.  Petunia was keeping
silent.  Given that she was even more directly responsible for the abusive
childhood Harry had suffered it was a wise move.  

"So, has Voldemort already taken over the Ministry?" asked Sloth, going over
Harry's letters.  "He beat Voldemort in the graveyard last month because his
wand was related to Voldemort's.  Now the Ministry is fast tracking the
destruction of that wand.  Even if Harry were cleared, a new wand wouldn't have
the same effect on Voldemort's."  

"And Dumbledore did say the dementors would join him as soon as he asked,"
added Harry.  

"We're pretty sure Fudge, at least, is operating under his own free will," said
James.  "If someone's under the Imperius curse, you can see their eyes flick
around whenever they're trying to fight it.  It isn't foolproof, but Fudge's
shown no signs.  We think Lucius Malfoy is influencing him the old fashioned
way.  Flattery, favor trading, and bribery."  

"Dumbledore was supposed to have a competent wizard tailing you while you were
out of the house," said Lily.  "Instead, he sent a squib and you had to fight
off two dementors on your own.  We are very proud of you for that, by the way,
Harry."  

"Mrs. Figg said Mundungus Fletcher was supposed to be watching.  He popped out
to buy some stolen cauldrons," explained Harry.  

"Convenient," I said.  "I'd bet anything that cauldron deal was related to the
dementor attack.  Whoever sent the dementors lured away the guard."  

"That would imply the Order's got a spy in it," said James.  

"Unless your guard duty schedules were regular enough to be figured out by an
outside observer," said Sloth, recalling Fake Moody's advice.  

"Either way, this place is pretty well spoiled as a safe house until we close
our security gaps," said James.  "I've already sent a message to the Order of
the Phoenix.  They'll be a few days setting up security for the move, so we
should all stay inside the house's wards until they do."  

"A few days!" bristled Vernon Dursley.  "You may be able to lay about the house
for days on end, but some of us have to work for a living!"  

"Feel free to go to work," said Lily coldly.  "Since Harry's their target,
they'll probably only try to eat the souls of people he has reason to care
whether they live or die."  

                                     * * *


A few days with the Dursleys had me climbing the walls.  There'd actually been
less space per person the times I'd visited the Weasleys, but they'd been
friendly, decent, and happy to share space.  Here, I felt trapped with people
who hated everything about me,b ut refrained from trying to harm me only
because they feared the consequences.  It was hard to believe Harry'd survived
fourteen years of them without going insane.  And I understood this was them on
their best behavior.  

Finally, they arrived.  Among them were Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody. 
Introductions were made all around, including a metamorphmagus named Tonks who
currently chose to look like a young woman with purple, spiky hair.  Moody
explained we'd all be flying to the new safe house by broomstick, and went over
the contingencies if one or all of the escort was killed en-route.  Lupin and
Tonks tried to brush off the possibility, but I felt better knowing it had been
considered.  

Disillusionment charms were put on all of us.  The charm caused us to blend
into the background like a chameleon.  Loki was disillusioned and harnessed to
the back of my broom.  I had to move the array on the broomstick under a layer
of wood to prevent the alchemic light from giving us away as we flew through
the night sky.  Finally, we kicked off and were in the air.  

Moody directed us along a roundabout path that kept us in the air for hours. 
It was clearly meant to throw off any potential pursuers, but we were flying so
long that both Sloth and I had to resort to using a red stone to boost our
flagging alchemy.  Maintaining a continuous transmutation for hours was
draining no matter how skilled you were.  Finally, we landed.  

Once we were on the ground, Moody used a device that looked a bit like a
cigarette lighter to extinguish all the street lamps, then made us read a piece
of paper and told us to memorize it.  "The Headquarters of the Order of the
Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."  

When I looked up, a building was there that hadn't been before.  This was the
effect of the Fidelius charm that Harry's parents had tried to use fourteen
years ago.  We were ushered inside.  Moody relit the street lights, then lifted
the disillusionment charms.  Finally, some gas lamps were lit so we could see
where we were.  Loki sniffed the air and alerted, first in one direction, then
another.  Apparently there was a lot in the house he didn't like.  

Harry, Sloth, and I were quickly ushered upstairs while the Order of the
Phoenix had a meeting.  We were warned to keep our voices down in the hall and
told more explanations would be forthcoming.  Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were
waiting for us in an upstairs bedroom.  Mrs. Weasley left quickly.  The others
filled us in on what had been going on here.  Fred and George apparated in
partway through and added their two cents.  

Everyone underage was being kept out of the meetings, but Fred and George had
developed a device they called an extendable ear.  It looked like a piece of
string.  You insert one end into your ear and the other end snakes toward your
eavesdropping target.  You can hear clearly anything said near the far end of
the string.  They'd learned a good deal using them, but the Order had gotten
wise to them and had taken to magically sealing the door against them during
their meetings.  

The Order of the Phoenix was a secret society of wizards who were resisting
Voldemort under Dumbledore.  This was their headquarters.  It had numerous
security enchantments placed on it by Sirius' family before he had inherited
it.  The fidelius charm was new, added by Dumbledore, who was serving as secret
keeper.  In addition to bad tempered, bigoted portraits and a more than
slightly crazy house elf named Kreacher, the house played home to a massive
number of pests that the underage inhabitants had been working to remove.  As
Sloth and I had adopted our fifteen year old forms before coming, that would
likely include us.  

The Order's activities thus far included monitoring known Death Eaters, growing
its membership, keeping track of the Ministry of Magic, and guard duties.  The
most disturbing news by far, well beyond the Ministry's continued slandering of
Harry, and Voldemort keeping out of the papers, was a split in the Weasley
clan.  Percy had been promoted to work directly under Fudge.  When it was
pointed out this was likely a political play to get Fudge information on
Dumbledore, especially given that the Ministry weren't happy with his
performance with Crouch Sr. last year, Percy flew into a rage, disowned his
family, and moved to London.  He wasn't talking to any of them anymore.  

The meeting closed and Snape left the house immediately.  I helped Mrs. Weasley
with the cooking.  The time during the meeting, I'd been able to rest up enough
to use alchemy again.  One simple transmutation later, everything that needed
to be chopped or pealed was.  

While Mrs. Weasley cooked the stew, Sirius vented his irritation at being
cooped up in this house.  Even if the Ministry of Magic didn't know about his
animagus form, thanks to Wormtail, the Death Eaters did.  Snape in particular
had been antagonizing him over being no use to the Order.  

After dinner, a conflict arose between Mrs. Weasley and Sirius about how much
of what was going on to tell Harry.  After Sirius won that argument, with
considerable support from James, Lily, and Lupin, we learned a few more
details.  Fudge had convinced himself Dumbledore's talk about Voldemort's
return was a pretext he was using to try and seize power.  We also learned that
the Order was guarding something Voldemort was after, something he didn't have
in the last war and which they didn't dare let him get his hands on.  

In return, I offered up the horcurx information I'd gotten from Viktor Krum. 
Sirius took the opportunity to be of use and racked his brains, eventually
recalling that his cousin, Belatrix Lestrange, had supposedly received
something important Voldemort had told her to protect.  She'd placed whatever
it was in her Gringotts vault.  He'd pieced this together from overheard
mutterings in Azkaban.  Bill promised to look into a way to access her vault
and see what was in there.  

                                     * * *


The next day, we got started helping with the cleaning.  Sirius was so keen on
getting rid of anything in the house that reminded him of his youth there that
he wasn't objecting to Mundungus nicking family silverware and odd heirlooms. 
Anything Mundungus wasn't stealing was going in the trash anyway, unless Fred
or George saw some use for it.  Kreacher was trying to salvage the heirlooms
and hide them, but he wasn't very effective.  I managed to take down a portrait
of Sirius' mother that screeched invectives at the top of her lungs whenever
she wasn't kept behind a set of thick drapes.  Due to a permanent sticking
spell, I had to take down part of the wall with it, but the portrait came down.
 

Each room cleared and scoured was a solid day's work, and more dangerous than
expected.  Ten years of accumulated magical pests in a house which had started
off full of poisons and dark artifacts resulted in us only managing with team
work and all the defense training we could muster.  It was hard, slow work, but
very satisfying once we got a room properly livable.  Some of the fast, insect
like creatures made for good practice with my control with flame alchemy once I
convinced Mrs. Weasley I wasn't going to burn down the house.  

The day of his trail, Harry left early with Mr. Weasley.  James and Lily stayed
behind at headquarters.  The Ministry of Magic didn't acknowledge them as being
Harry's parents, and as such, they weren't allowed to be with him for the
hearing.  It was suspected among the Order that Fudge might've been more
inclined to accept their identities as valid if they hadn't been so insistent
in their support of Harry's story and had the tale of their resurrection not
been so intertwined with Voldemort's rebirth.  

We all waited nervously for the results of Harry's hearing.  He had a tale to
tell when he returned.  Fudge had pulled some underhanded maneuvers to try and
deprive Harry of council, including last minute changes to the time and place. 
But Dumbledore had shown up, presented Mrs. Figg as a witness, and gotten Harry
narrowly acquitted.  Percy had been there to assist Fudge, and had refused to
acknowledge Harry at any point.  

During the remaining couple of weeks, I worked out a way to use alchemy to
listen on in the meetings we were barred from.  It took combining ideas from
Sloth's recording device, Hohenheim's protections on the Philosopher's Stone,
computer theory I'd been learning about for Muggle Studies, and some from Rita
Skeeter.  The result was a small metal insect with an array similar to what I
used on the chessmen animating it.  

My creation would fly down and hide in the dining room during a meeting,
listening and watching.  Then, after the meeting, it would return to me.  On
command, it unfolded its wings and revealed a red stone fragment in its
abdomen.  Pieces turned and reoriented themselves so that a hologram of blue
light was projected above my spy bug and the scene was replayed exactly as it
had happened, complete with gestures, facial expressions, and any papers being
referenced.  

We didn't learn much more.  Whatever was being guarded was in the Department of
Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic, and Bill wasn't having much luck persuading
the goblins to let him into Belatrix's vault.  Still, it did prove the bug
worked.  

Our Hogwarts letters came far later than usual.  Fred and George attributed it
to Dumbledore having a hard time hiring a new defense teacher.  It wasn't
surprising with all the trained, combat capable wizards he knew being utilized
in the Order.  

When my letter did come, in addition to the welcome letter itself and the new
book list, a blue and bronze pin with an eagle on it was in the envelope.  A
prefect pin.  There was also a letter detailing the powers and duties
involved.  It was impossible not to think of Percy.  He'd been so much help
getting my bearings in those early days at Hogwarts, and consistently more
helpful than the Ravenclaw prefects had been.  Whatever his current differences
with his family, he'd been good to me.  

I soon learned that, of the fifth years staying in this house, Harry was the
only one who had not been made a prefect.  With one boy and one girl from each
house chosen at fifth year, it was inevitable some of the Gryffindor boys in
our group wouldn't get chosen.  Harry seemed to be taking it well, though how
much of that was an effort not to spoil this for Ron, I'd likely never know. 
Mrs. Weasley was overjoyed and celebrating Ron's selection, and while slightly
embarrassed, he was clearly enjoying being in the center of attention.  

                                     * * *


The next day was a disaster of poor planning.  No one was getting up in time,
emergency repacking was happening, and to top it off, one member of our escort
from the Order was a no show.  Sirius took his dog form and filled in over Mrs.
Weasley's objections.  Finally, James, Lily, Sirius, Lupin, Arthur, Molly,
Moody, and Tonks walked our party of students down to King's Cross station and
onto Platform 9 3/4.  

Once aboard the Hogwarts Express, our party spit up.  Harry and Ginny found
Neville and Luna while Ron, Hermione, Sloth, and I made our way forward to the
prefects' carriage. An unpleasant sight greeted us there.  Draco Malfoy and his
girlfriend Pansy Parkinson were the new Slytherin prefects.  

"There you are," said the Head Boy, a seventh year I didn't know.  He ignored
the looks of loathing that passed between us and said, "This is your first year
as prefects.  I'm sure your heads of house will have all sorts of instructions
and words of advice for you, but for now, what you have to do is pretty
simple."  

"Teachers don't ride the train," continued the Head Girl.  "So, that means it's
up to the prefects to patrol the train and deal with any rule breaking."  

"Can we assign punishments for things that happen on the train?" asked Malfoy,
a sadistic glee lighting up his face.  

"There wouldn't be much point sending ou patrolling if you couldn't," replied
the Head Boy.  "Mind, since the term hasn't started yet, there's no house
points to take away, so you'll have to make due with assigning detentions. 
Writing lines and such."  

"But we can take house points once the term starts?" verified Padima Patil, my
fellow Ravenclaw perfect.  

"That's right," said the Head Girl.  "But your head of house can audit your
decisions so don't do it unless you're sure you can justify it."  

"Once the feast is over," said the Head Boy, "remember that it's your
responsibility to deliver your house's new first years to their dorms.  Expect
to be escorting them in groups to and from the Great Hall for the first week or
so while they get used to the castle.  Also, as prefects, you have the right to
assign and change your common room password.  Make sure your housemates know
what it is."  

"One duty we won't have to worry about," I said to Padima.  

"Actually," said the Head Girl with a smirk, "the Ravenclaw riddle needs to be
set daily by one of the prefects."  

"Wait, someone actually came up with those riddles?" I asked.  "An actual
person was to blame for that chicken or the egg riddle with the wrong answer?"
 

She nodded, snickering, but quickly regained her composure.  "Anyway, that's
all you need to know for now.  You should head out and patrol."  

"Before you go, there is one more thing," corrected the Head Boy.  "The
prefects have a private bathroom you now all have access to in the castle."  He
explained how to find it and gave us the password before sending us out on
patrol.  

I walked with Sloth and Loki, glancing in windows as I went.  There was a lot
of excitement and energy among the new and returning students, but nothing that
needed telling off.  I stopped off to chat with a nervous group of first year
students and let them know what to expect in the sorting ceremony, and that
whatever house they ended up in, they could come to me with questions.  

"This is the year I clean up the bullying problems Ravenclaw's had since I was
sorted," I said to Sloth after we left the first years.  "I've finally got the
authority to do more than threaten violence if someone's being picked on."  

"What was Dumbledore thinking making Draco and Pansy prefects?" asked Sloth. 
"They're two of the worst bullies in the school."  

"It's got to be political," I said.  "Not that I have any clue what statement
he's trying to make."  

"Well, with you and me, he's showing he thinks we belong at Hogwarts and that
we can be trusted," said Sloth.  "With Malfoy, maybe it's to add legitimacy to
him picking us, Ron, and Hermione.  No one can say the prefect selections
aren't fair without impugning on Lucius Malfoy's son."  

"I guess that'll have to do for an explanation," I said, shrugging.  

When the train squealed to a stop, Sloth, Loki, and I got to the doors and
started directing people.  Ron and Hermione along with Ernie Macmillan and
Padima Patil joined us in directing second years and above to the carriages and
first years down toward the boats.  Professor Grubbly-Plank was leading the
first years down to the lake.  Hagrid must have still been off on his
assignment from Dumbledore to treat with the giants.  

Draco and Pansy, rather than helping, flashed their prefect badges and shoved
other students out of the way to claim a carriage for themselves, Crabbe and
Goyle.  I felt Sloth's hand on my arm when I pressed my fingers together and
raised it toward them.  

"Blowing up the carriage'll hurt the thestrals," she said.  "Even if they did
go out of their way to make sure no one innocent would be hurt."  

I laughed it off, and Hermione promised to report Malfoy's behavior.  We found
our way to carriages and rode up to the castle proper.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
In trying to stick to canon characterization, some things always cause me
trouble.  Coming up with even semi-reasonable explanations for most of what
Dumbledore does is a major pain half the time.  Ah well, on to cleaning up the
school's bullying problem! 
***** Following the Rules and Enforcing Them *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 46) Following the Rules and
Enforcing Them
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


At the sorting ceremony in the Great Hall, the hat was taken out to its stool
and began its new song.  This time it went beyond the explanation of the
favored traits of each house and issued a dire warning only a fool would
ignore.  

"In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted.  
United by a common goal
They had the selfsame yearning
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
'Together we will build and teach!'
The four good friends decided.
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided.
For were there such good friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why I was there and I can tell
The whole sad sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those
Who's ancestry is purest.'
Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those who's
Intelligence is surest.'
Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their names.'
Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot
And treat them just the same.'
Those differences caused little strife
When first they came to light
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance Slytherin
Took only pureblood wizards
Of great cunning just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest
And taught them all she knew
Thus the houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The houses that like pillars four
Had once held up our school
Now turned upon each other and
Divided sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end
What with dueling and with fight
And clash of friend on friend.
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And now you know the score.
I sort you into houses
Because that is what I'm for.
But this year I'll go further
Listen closely to my song.
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong.
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear
Oh know the perils, read the signs
The warning history shows
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes.
And we must unite insider her
Or we'll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you
Let the sorting now begin."  

The millennium old intelligent artifact, forged by the united efforts of the
four greatest witches and wizards of all time, that had examined the innermost
character of every witch and wizard in Britain, had issued a warning.  Its
entire reason for existing was the sorting, and yet what it foresaw with its
vast insight and experience had it seriously questioning that very purpose. 
Disaster was coming in one form or another if the enmity and mistrust between
the houses could not be bridged.  

I was so distracted by the hat's warning that I missed the sorting itself in
the course of pondering how to act on it.  I decided that was probably a good
thing, since the hat didn't like the idea of separating us at all.  It seemed
perhaps Helga Hufflepuff had the right idea all those centuries ago.  Teach the
lot and treat them just the same.

While I dug in to the feast, I continued to ponder this hardest puzzle yet. 
Ultimately, I realized the obvious fact that I couldn't heal a millennium old
rift myself.  I would need help, especially with the Slytherins, who I had no
real contact with outside Malfoy and his bullying friends.  I'd have to make
time to talk to Snape after the year's first potions class.  

Finally, with everyone full from the feast, Dumbledore rose to make the start
of term announcements.  He got as far as introducing Dolores Umbridge, a squat,
high voiced witch who would be teaching defense this year.  She interrupted
Dumbledore's continuing announcements with a dull, rambling, contradictory
speech of her own.  Rather than fight it, Dumbledore sat down immediately and
listened intently as Umbridge rambled about progress and its opposite for far
too long.  Finally, she finished talking, Dumbledore finished his
announcements, then we were all dismissed to our dorms.  

I started to help gather up the newly sorted Ravenclaws when Professor Flitwick
came down from the staff table and approached me.  Professor Umbridge was
following him.  He didn't look at all pleased.  

"Padima, can you please take the first years up on your own tonight?  I need to
speak to Marcus in my office about a scheduling matter," said Professor
Flitwick.  He then proceeded to lead me down to his office.  Loki trotted at my
side and Umbridge trailed along behind.  

When we arrived, Professor Flitwick sat down and indicated Professor Umbridge
and I should do so as well.  "Marcus, as you heard at the feast, this is
Dolores Umbridge.  In addition to being our new Defense Against the Dark Arts
professor, she is also the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and
as such a representative of the Ministry."  

"Thank you for that introduction, Professor Flitwick," said Umbridge in the
same honeyed tones she'd used when she interrupted Dumbledore.  "As you've
probably guessed, this is about the time turner the Ministry has generously
allowed you the use of for the past two years.  I'm afraid our generosity has
reached its limit.  You will need to hand it back in now."  

"Why?" I asked, looking from Professor Flitwick to Professor Umbridge.  "Have I
done something wrong?"  I'd certainly abused the device, using it for purposes
well outside getting to my classes, but there was no point admitting that.  

"I'm afraid it isn't a matter of what you've done or not done," said Umbridge
in her falsely sweet voice.  "Your use of the time turner has always been at
the pleasure of the Ministry, and between your half-breed status and the
outrageous lies you spread around last year, the Ministry is no longer
pleased."  

I considered telling her no.  The device was valuable beyond measure, and I'd
always planned on stealing it when the time came to return to my own world to
make sure I arrived at the right time.  If I refused, however, that would be
the end of my Hogwarts education, and that outweighed the value of the tiny
hourglass.  I took the chain from around my neck and placed the time turner in
Umbridge's outstretched hand.  I closed my fingers around hers and looked her
in the eye.  

"I'm not the least bit ashamed of the fact that I'm not entirely human," I
said, staring with my slitted purple eyes, "but anyone who wants to call me a
liar had best be able to back that up."  

Umbridge smiled and said, "You've earned yourself a detention for backtalk, Mr.
Oren.  I would advise you not forget you are speaking to a teacher."  

"Marcus and I need to discuss how this impacts his schedule," said Professor
Flitwick.  "I'm sure you have lesson plans to finalize.  I won't keep you while
we discuss his classes."  

"My lesson plans have been ready for some time," said Umbridge, "but I will
need to return this to the Ministry for safekeeping.  We wouldn't want any
students to be tempted to steal it."  She left the room with my time turner
clutched firmly in her hand.  

"You'd do well not to provoke her, Marcus," advised Flitwick.  "Fudge had her
assigned here as his personal representative, and he's still not convinced of
your and Harry's story last year.  Push her too far and you might get worse
than detention."  

"Maybe I should get myself sent to Azkaban on purpose," I mused.  "Kill all the
dementors there and force the Ministry to use reasonable guards.  Especially
after that pair attacked Harry over the summer."  

"I know you're angry, and I sympathize, but we really do need to talk about
your schedule.  If we'd known they were going to take away your time turner,
we'd have tried to arrange classes differently, but since it was sprung on us
at the last minute, what classes you'll have to drop-"  

"Drop?"  

"I'm afraid so.  Muggle Studies will have to be one of them.  It's scheduled
time is the same as Charms, and that's a required class this year.  Other than
that, you'll have to choose between Arithmancy and Divination."  

"I can keep up an independent study of Arithmancy," I mused.  "I can get the
homework from Hermione and study from the book.  I don't think I can do that
for Divination.  I can still sit my OWLs even if I drop the class for the term,
can't I?"  

Professor Flitwick smiled.  "You can at that.  I'll have a new schedule drawn
up for you tomorrow."  

Getting up to leave, I turned and said, "Thanks for separating us before I
could get in any more trouble."  

                                     * * *


When I got to the door to Ravenclaw tower, I was in no mood for that riddle
lock and just walked through the closed door using Sloth's Ultimate Escape. 
Not bothering to so much as look at anyone, I marched up to my dorm and flopped
face first onto the bed.  

At breakfast the next morning, school owls delivered my new schedule from
Professor Flitwick and a pink slip of paper form Umbridge telling me my
detention would be in her office after dinner.  In preparation for the OWLs, I
had double sessions of each of my core classes scheduled this year.  Even
accounting for the two dropped classes, this promised to be my busiest year
yet, academically speaking.  

Mercifully, my first class was Transfiguration.  We were working on vanishing
charms.  Destroying matter was a kind of equivalency violation I'd rarely
attempted before.  Due to the universe being cosmically unfair, violating
equivalent exchange in that way still expended red stone energy rather than
recharging it.  Still, once I had it, it became clear I was going to have an
easy next few weeks, since the plan was to vanish increasingly complicated
creatures while from an alchemic point of view, they were all made of the same
kind of matter.  

In Herbology, we again moved up to more dangerous plants with more interesting
properties.  I'd almost forgotten my outrage from the previous day, but
Divination brought it right back.  I had to tell Sloth and the others what had
happened and ask the Gryffindors to ask Hermione for her Arithmancy notes for
me.  

Worse, this year we were doing dream interpretation.  With my time turner gone,
I'd been counting on making up for my missed classes by pulling all nighters,
but the dream journal Trelawney assigned meant I would have to actually sleep
each night.  That left me with only two time saving cheats.  My ability to
assimilate knowledge from written material without reading it using red stones,
and the fact that I didn't have to eat.  

I left Divination hating Umbridge more than ever.  Fortune once again smiled on
me when my next class turned out to be potions.  After warning us that he would
only be taking the best students in his NEWT level potions class next year, he
had us brew a potion called the Draught of Peace, which soothes nerves, calms
tempers, and reduces anxiety.  It was just what I needed going into my
detention with Umbridge.  I pocketed a flask of my brew before packing up and
heading down to dinner.  

When I checked in with Hermione, she was outraged on my behalf over my being
forced to drop classes.  Not only did she give me a copy of her notes, but she
promised to let me use her marked homework as a grading key for mine, and to
copy down the test papers in Arithmancy for me.  I also learned I wasn't the
only one who had detention with Umbridge.  Harry had talked back to her in
class and earned a week of detentions.  I expressed sympathy and condolences
before heading down to her office to get this over with.  I sent Loki off with
Sloth.  

"Good evening, Mr. Oren," said Umbridge.  

"Good evening," I said serenely.  

"Well, sit down," she said, directing me toward a small table with a piece of
blank parchment on it.  When I sat down, she continued, "You are going to be
doing some lines for me, Mr. Oren."  

I shrugged and bent down to get out a quill from my bag.  Before I found it,
Umbridge handed me a black quill, saying, "No, not with your quill.  You're
going to be using a rather special quill of mine.  Here you are.  Oh, you won't
be needing ink," she added when I retrieved a bottle of ink from my bag. 
Again, I shrugged and put my ink away.  

"I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies,'" said Umbridge.  

I began to write.  The words appeared in glistening red blood.  At the same
time, the back of my hand was cut open in a pattern identical to the
handwriting on the page.  Then, before I'd decided whether to bother
regenerating the cut, it closed on its own.  I repeated the process and saw it
happen again as before.  Then I let out a soft giggle.  

It wasn't the response Umbridge was expecting.  She had been watching me
closely as I tried out her quill, and when I laughed she said, "Is something
wrong?"  

"No," I said.  "Just had a funny thought."  

"And what might that be?"  

"I've been tortured by experts," I said.  "How many pages am I doing?"  

"As many as it takes for it to sink in," said Umbridge flustered.  

I got back to writing, not bothering to look up.  After an hour or so, the
draught of peace keeping me calm began to wear off.  By that point, I had my
hand cut open and healed enough times to determine that the healing magic tied
to the quill was less than perfect.  Repeated use of the quill left the tissue
inflamed and prone to scarring.  

I was used to pain.  I'd done worse to myself experimenting with my healing
process over the summer.  But she was trying in earnest to torture me, and most
people didn't have my pain tolerance.  This woman was evil.  I was sorely
tempted to snap the fingers of my left hand and burn her to ashes with flame
alchemy, but killing Fudge's representative would mean declaring war on the
Ministry of Magic, and I wasn't there yet.  

After several hours, she looked over the scarring on the back of my right
hand.  It overlapped with the flame alchemy array there, rendering it useless. 
She didn't seem satisfied, but she dismissed me regardless.  Once I was out of
her office, I used the array on my back to properly repair the skin on the hack
of my hand.  A wave of blue light passed over my hand and it was again
unblemished, as though the evening's detention had never happened.  

The next day, I got a taste of her teaching style.  It proved a far more
effective form of torture than her cursed quill had been.  The class consisted,
in its entirety, of silently reading the remarkably poor textbook that I'd
already assimilated.  Meanwhile, she proved herself a patronizing control
freak, demanding synchronized greetings at the start of class.  It was actually
more boring and useless than Quirrell's had been, since at least then, I'd been
able to treat the period like a study hall and use the time to work out how to
emulate the jinxes in the book.  

Fortunately, that afternoon was Care of Magical Creatures.  Even with Hagrid
gone, the subject was interesting.  This time we were studying bowtruckles, a
kind of fairy being that nested in trees who's wood was suitable for wands. 
Draco tried to ruin things for us by insulting Hagrid, but he wasn't even
creative about it.  

                                     * * *


Finally able to take care of the homework I'd accumulated thanks to that
detention, I put my things away and had a look around the common room.  No one
was going to start in on their bullying in front of a prefect.  I briefly
considered patrolling under an invisibility cloak, but then I got a better
idea.  The tiny metal bug I'd used to listen in on Order meetings was well
suited to the kind of autonomous surveillance I needed.  I made a few dozen and
had them posted around the school.  A couple were assigned to each dorm and
common room, with the rest set to watch any grouping of students.  

An hour after I sent the bugs out, one returned to me.  Landing on my
fingertip, it spread its wings and projected the image of a Ravenclaw sixth
year shoving and stealing the book bag of a Slytherin second year.  My bug had
followed the bully and seen where he tossed the bag into a trash can.  

Leaving the common room, I followed my bug as it flew down the hall.  Fishing
the bag out of the trash can, I sought out and found the sixth year
responsible.  When he saw me carrying the bag, his eyes widened.  

"You've lost Ravenclaw ten points," I told him.  "Yes, I saw what you did.  Now
head straight back to the common room and write, 'I will not be a bully' a
hundred times.  And I'll know if you tried to cheat using magic."  

"But-but he was a Slytherin.  Son of a Death Eater," he said sputtering.  

"Were you even listening to the hat?" I demanded.  "It doesn't matter one bit
what his father did.  You're the bad guy here.  If you or anyone else pulls
anything like this again, you'll wish Filch was the one who caught you at it. 
Now, get out of my sight."  

Once he'd gone, I headed for Snape's office.  I'd been meaning to talk to him
about the hat's song anyway, but things had come up.  Now I could return the
bag and have that chat in one go.  

"Come in," said Snape when I knocked on the door.  "Oren?  What do you want?"  

"One of the Ravenclaws stole this from one of your second years," I said,
setting the bag on his desk.  "I've already taken house points and assigned a
punishment."  

"Well, this is unexpected," said Snape.  "Usually the prefects are disinclined
to punish members of their own house."  

"Ravenclaw's had a bullying problem since my first year," I said, irritated. 
"Nothing's going to change if we won't police our own."  

"Let's be honest, shall we?" said Snape.  "Ravenclaw may be your house, but the
only ones in this school you'd call your own are Potter and his little gang. 
Will you be so quick to police their rule breaking?"  

"If they start bullying people, I'm coming down even harder on them," I said
firmly.  "I'm their friend because they don't pull that sort of thing."  

"Of course not," said Snape sarcastically.  "It's not as if you would ever be
party to helping cover up an illegal dragon, or be involved in a club that
hasn't been sanctioned by the faculty."  

"There's a difference between ignoring arbitrary rules and turning a blind eye
to pointless bullying and cruelty."  

"But if there's a point to it, you can't find any reason to object," Snape shot
back.  

"What has gotten into you?" I asked.  

He looked down at his hands,which were shaking.  With visible effort, he
mastered himself once again, then said, "What you did at the end of last year
has left me off balance.  Point of fact, it's been building since the year
before when you and Potter learned Black was innocent.  Now, Lily is alive and
James Potter with her.  It's brought some difficult memories to the surface. 
Memories that make my task of undermining the Dark Lord more difficult."  

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, stunned at his openness.  

"As you have no doubt noticed using your time turner, there's no changing
what's happened in the past."  

"Look, if spying on Voldemort-"  

"Do not say his name!" exclaimed Snape with urgency.  

"Okay, it has been four years," I said with mounting irritation.  "Why?  What
is it about saying the name of the guy you're already spying on and who's
already trying as hard as he can to kill me and my friends that makes you so
worried?"  

Snape pursed his lips, then tested the waters.  "The headmaster doesn't want
this spread around."  

"I can keep a secret if there's a good reason to.  Is there?"  

"It's called a taboo.  An old and powerful magic.  He has made it so that
whenever his name is spoken, he will know where.  Speaking the name will also
shatter many forms of magical protection.  If you speak his name, you make
yourself vulnerable and draw his attention in one act."  

"Why is Dumbledore encouraging people to use it then?" I demanded.  

"He considers the fear engendered by not speaking his name a greater threat
than the practical concern."  

"He's an idiot," I said firmly.  

A smile curled along Snape's lips.  "Idiot or not, he represents the most
powerful threat to the Dark Lord's dominance over wizarding Britain."  

"Tom," I said.  "If he's made aware any time a taboo word is spoke, it can't be
one as commonly spoken as his incredibly common real name.  There's no awe
saying 'Dark Lord' and no fear like saying 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-
Be-Named.'  Just Tom."  

"Is it your intent to drive the Dark Lord into a fury?" asked Snape, still
smiling.  

"People make mistakes when they're angry," I said.  

A look passed across Snape's face.  It was as though I'd slapped him.  His
smile was gone.  He now looked contemplative.  "Yes, yes they do.  Tom it is."
 

"I'm telling Harry," I said.  "He's Tom's primary target.  I'll tell him not to
spread it around.  We'll make like our main goal is mocking his muggle
heritage."  

"Dumbledore is an idiot," said Snape after a long moment.  "That would be more
effective at undermining his base of blood supremacists and diminishing fear of
him than using the name and title he made up for himself.  What did you say you
did in the world you came from?"  

"I was a State Alchemist," I said.  "It's a military position.  I held the rank
of Major for most of my career.  I quit shortly after being promoted to
Lieutenant Colonel."  

"Why is a high ranking military officer attending a boarding school?" asked
Snape.  It was a genuine question.  There was no hint of disbelief in his
voice.  

"I really am here to learn," I said.  "My world no doubt has witches and
wizards in it too, but we don't have a tradition to train them like you have
here.  I want to bring back what I learn here to my world and make my world
better with that knowledge."  

"In the meantime, you're paying for what you learn by teaching the Weasley boy
alchemy."  

"And helping you fight Tom," I added.  "So, what is it that's been bothering
you?  I answered your questions."  

He just stared at me for a long moment.  I could feel him probing at my
occlumency barriers.  Fair enough that he wanted a guarantee I could keep
secret whatever was on his mind.  I ran him around in circles, each time he
seemed to penetrate my thoughts, I inserted a memory of myself saying, "You
aren't in yet."  Eventually, the attempts stopped.  

"Let us just say, I am having trouble putting some things that happened in
school behind me.  Working with James Potter and Sirius Black is bringing back
memories of why I joined the Death Eaters in the first place."  

"You should know he's going to lose," I said.  "We've got an angle on at least
one of his remaining horcruxes."  

"I'm not going back to being his loyal servant," snapped Snape.  "What's wrong
is that my emotions aren't fully under control, and that makes it easier for
Tom to figure out I'm not on his side."  

"What's your exit strategy if he finds you out?" I asked.  

Snape let out a breath and said, "I'm tortured then killed.  There's no backing
out of what I'm doing."  

After thinking a moment, I took out a soul coin, clapped, and altered the array
on the back.  Then I put it on Snape's desk.  "Meet your new exit strategy.  If
you get found out, press this to your skin.  It'll painlessly remove your soul
from your body.  Another member of the Order can bring it back to me, Ron, or
Sloth,and we can put you back in a body."  

He stared at the coin for a long moment, then picked it up.  Putting it in his
pocket, Snape asked, "Is there anything else?"  

"I did want to talk to you about the Sorting Hat's song," I said.  "Interhouse
unity makes sense, but with people like Malfoy around, I don't know who in
Slytherin I can reach out to.  Do you have any ideas?"  

"I do, but it would mean giving up an advantage you've enjoyed over the rest of
the student body for years."  

                                     * * *


"Your doing?" asked Sloth, holding up one of my metal bugs outside the Great
Hall before breakfast.  

"I figured we can't be everywhere all the time, and this way we'll be alerted
to rule breaking without us having to be there to see it," I explained.  

"You'd think after losing your time turner, you'd be less interested in making
more work for yourself," she replied.  "Not to mention me."  

"I can tell them not to alert you," I offered, "but the way I see it, if
everyone knows they can't get away with things, it'll be less work in the long
run."  

"Fair point," she said.  "How're you managing the homework so far?"  

"It's taking up most of my time," I admitted.  "I'm going to have to schedule
it carefully if I want to be able to keep up with our fencing practice and
Ron's alchemy training."  

"And what about us?"  

"I haven't forgotten," I said with a smile.  "I've come up with some ideas to
take back our red stone farming time."  

That evening, I took Sloth down to the Chamber of Secrets, past the thousand
year old basilisk, through the unremarkable wall at the back, and into a small
garden filled with Philosopher's Flowers, lit by magical grow lights.  I
transmuted a dozen suis of armor and animated them, passing them gardening
tools.  

"The can tend the flowers, harvest the stones, and even mend the plants with a
red stone powered array on the gardening tools," I said.  "All we need to do is
drop off the ingredients and pick up the finished stones."  

"This would be really useful in Liore," said Sloth, seeing the process in
action.  

I nodded.  "Especially since they double as extra security."  

"Nice," said Sloth.  "We can even leave them working over the summer, and put
together another batch back home.  Any intruders like Crouch get taken out by
them and our place stays secure."  

I nodded.  "I can put my mind to time saving when I need to."  

"I'm impressed," said Sloth.  "There's just one more thing."  

"What's that?" I asked.  

"This homework is going to bury me!  Help me!"  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
There was no way Umbridge was going to leave the time turner in Greed's hands. 
And between his new prefect duties, preparing for OWLs, and his intention to
try to bridge the divide between the houses, Greed's going to have a very busy
year indeed. 
***** Romantic Interlude 21 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 47) Romantic Interlude 21
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 48.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


Sloth wasn't as far behind on her homework as she felt like.  The trouble was
she kept getting distracted by socialization back in the Hufflepuff common
room.  Down here, in the privacy of our alchemy lab, hidden within Slytherin's
Chamber of Secrets, she could buckle down and focus.  She was done in a couple
of hours.  We weren't even past the point in the day when we had to be back in
our common rooms.  

"Can we stay here for the night?" asked Sloth.  "I think I've earned a reward
after getting all that done."  

"As much as I'd love to say yes, now that we're prefects, people will notice if
we're out after curfew."  

"Fine," she said, pouting.  "We'd better not waste any more time then."  

In a single motion, Sloth stepped out of her school robes and adopted her four
year old form.  I did the same, stepping out of my robes and shifting into my
adult appearance. I lifted Sloth up and planted a kiss on her lips before
sweeping her into our bedroom.  

"On your back," Sloth ordered me when we got there and broke our kiss.  I
hastened to comply.  

Positioning herself above my erection, Sloth reached down and inserted the tip
of my penis into her vagina.  With a grunt of effort, she lowered herself down,
squeezing my penis inside her with more haste than I usually liked.  Once she'd
bumped her cervix with the tip of my penis, she began to raise and lower
herself with her legs.  

I put my hands on her hips, ready to take over once she reached her climax, but
just holding on while she did the work at the moment.  Picking up the pace,
soon she was bouncing up and down on my penis so fast her braids flew up on her
downswing.  She was gasping and breathing heavy with the effort, and her
approaching orgasm.  

I got there first, ejaculating insider her as she continued to bounce even more
vigorously than before.  It wasn't long before she hit her climax, and I had to
hold her up with the hands I'd had on her hips to keep her from falling. 
Rather than just support her weight, however, I kept up the former motion she
was no longer capable of, pumping her tiny body up and down as I kept cumming
into her.  

We may not have had the hours we would have preferred, but the margin wasn't so
narrow we had to limit our orgasms to human length.  I didn't stop bouncing her
until I could feel back pressure building up inside Sloth's eager body.  

Letting both of us exhaust, I lifted Sloth fully off my penis an laid her down
across my chest.  Our lips met in a tender kiss as I groped at her butt. 
Finally, we separated, resumed our fifteen year old forms, and dressed.  

"That was good," said Sloth.  "I just wish it could've gone on longer."  

"Get your homework done before we come down here from now on and we'll have the
whole time," I said with a wink.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Sometimes you just have to make time. 
***** Secret Conspiracies *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 48) Secret Conspiracies
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Once we adapted to the increased workload of our OWL year, the rest of the
first week passed relatively uneventfully.  I'd been able to verify that
Harry's detentions had been the same as mine.  I mended the back of his hand
with a red stone.  There was no sense in letting her leave a permanent scar. 
Ron had tried out for, and got, a position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. 
The keeper position vacated by the former captain, Olliver Wood who'd graduated
year before last.  

Ron seemed genuinely surprised when I talked to him about scheduling his
alchemy lessons around his new Quidditch duties.  He seemed to have gotten the
idea we were done now that he'd performed a human transmutation, seen the Gate,
and could now clap transmute.  I explained that there was still another year of
material to cover.  

Daily fencing lessons were out this year.  With all the extra work assigned,
we'd have to drop down to weekends only.  I wasn't happy about giving even that
much, and if I still had my time turner, I would've insisted we use it.  As I
didn't, I was forced to concede there were only so many hours in a day.  

My dream journal for Trelawney was filled with being watched by Moody's magic
eye and Umbridge giving actually useful lessons on horcruxes.  In Divination, I
was surprised to see Umbridge observing Trelawney's lesson.  Harry quickly
hissed a parseltongue explanation.  Umbridge had been appointed "Hogwarts High
Inquisitor" by Fudge.  It was a new position that let her observe other
teachers and sack any who weren't performing to standard.  

Umbridge's presence was an unwelcome irritant, bringing everyone out of the
semi-trance state Trelawney cultivated in order to help everyone perform at
their best in her class.  Even she was shaken by Umbridge following behind her
as she went through her lessons.  When Umbridge demanded Trelawney predict
something, she waffled before declaring the defense professor was in great
danger.  Given what had happened to her predecessors, it was a good bet even
without second sight.  

That evening, Ron and I went down to the alchemy lab.  Once there, I triple
checked our security.  While I did, Ron complained about a letter he'd received
the previous night.  Apparently, Percy was trying to convince Ron to
disassociate himself from me and Harry.  That really stung with how much I'd
liked Percy and valued his advice while we were in school together.  

"Okay, Ron," I said when I was sure nothing could observe us, "we still have
some applications for red stones to go over and there are additional details
about homunculi and the Gate I want to cover this year, but first, I think it's
time you learn about the Philosopher's Stone."  

"You explained about it in first year," said Ron.  "It lets you do alchemy
without a circle and lets you make homunculi without seeing the Gate and losing
a limb."  

"Those are just a couple of uses the Stone can be put to.  It can also be used
to fully raise someone from the dead as a normal human being, even if you don't
have their soul.  It has been theorized to be capable of turning soulless
homunculi human.  But what I want to talk about today is how it's made.  

"Human transmutation is the ultimate taboo in alchemy, but the Philosopher's
Stone is a step beyond that for those who know the secret.  Most alchemists who
learn either quit their research or go insane.  Entire civilizations have
turned their backs on alchemy on mass after learning how this works.  You may
decide you want to take Percy's advice about me once you know what I've done."
 

"Do you have to be so dramatic about every single thing?" asked Ron, rolling
his eyes.  "I've stuck with you this long, and I didn't back out after getting
my arm ripped off.  Just get on with it already."  

"Alright," I said, drawing an array on the blackboard.  "Red stones are a
weaker refinement of the concept of an alchemy amplifier.  They're a million
times weaker than a true Stone.  They were developed because the price for
creating a stone is measured in human lives.  Not tens, not hundreds, not
thousands, but tens of thousands of people need to die, their life energy
captured and wrung out of their bodies by this array, which is drawn around a
city."  

Ron's jaw dropped.  "You-?"  

"I made one," I confirmed.  "The city I transmuted was going to be destroyed a
few seconds later by an atomic bomb, a muggle weapon, and I decided it would be
wasteful for those people to die and not get anything in return.  That was the
Philosopher's Stone I carried with me into this world, that is the Stone Tom
tried to steal in our first year, that is the Stone that was drained of its
power in the graveyard last year when Petigrew made me throw it up."  

"You could've killed everyone at the World Cup," said Ron, awed and more than a
little frightened.  

"Yes I could," I said.  "Tom would if he knew how."  

"He would," agreed Ron.  "I'm sorry."  

"About what?" I asked.  

"Well, if anything deserves getting dramatic about, it's this."  

                                     * * *


The next day, Umbridge spent most of her inspection of Professor Grubly-Plank
asking pointed questions about Hagrid.  Once classes were done for the day, I
met up with the others.  Hermione handed me her graded Arithmancy homework, and
I set to work checking my answers.  As I worked, a conversation sprung up in
parseltongue.  

"I reckon you two should complain to McGonagall and Flitwick about Umbridge and
her detentions," said Ron.  "They'd flip out if they knew about what was
happening."  

"Yeah, they probably would," said Harry.  "And how long do you reckon it'd take
Umbridge to pass another decree saying anyone who complains about the High
Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"  

"She's an awful woman," said Hermione.  "We've got to do something about her."
 

"Killing her would just draw down more scrutiny and trouble from the Ministry,"
I said.  "We can't do that until we're ready to declare war on them."  

"War on the Ministry?" asked Ginny.  "Isn't that exactly what they're afraid
of?  Why they stuck us with her in the first place?"  

"I'm not talking about killing her," said Hermione, exasperated, "but we do
need to do something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and about how we're
not going to learn any defense from her at all."  

"She was a political appointment," said Sloth.  "Getting her removed without
killing her just isn't going to happen."  

"Well," said Hermione, "you know, I was thinking today.  I was thinking that
maybe the time's come when we should just... just do it ourselves."  

"Do what ourselves?" asked Harry.  

"Well, learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves," replied Hermione.  

"This isn't like Arithmancy where we have a good textbook we can just follow
along with for an independent study," I said, glancing up.  

"And we're already doing so much extra work we're backed up on homework again,"
said Ron.  "And it's only the second week!"  

"But this is so much more important than homework!" said Hermione, to surprised
stares all around.  

"If Fudge makes it so we don't know how to protect ourselves out of paranoia
now that Tom's back," said Neville, "this is going to be a short war.  You can
bet the Death Eaters' kids are getting private lessons."  

"Or it isn't paranoia at all and Fudge is on Tom's side," suggested Luna.  

We paused to consider that for a long moment before Hermione pressed on. 
"Anyway, I agree we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out
of books.  We need a teacher, a proper one who can show us how to use the
spells and correct us if we're going wrong."  

"If you're talking about Lupin-" began Harry.  

"No, no, I'm not talking about Lupin," said Hermione.  "He's too busy with the
Order and anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and
that's not nearly often enough."  

"Who then?" asked Harry.  

"Isn't it obvious?  I'm talking about you, Harry."  

"About me what?"  

"I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts."  

It took some convincing before Harry was on board with the idea.  It was clear
all the Order members were otherwise occupied except Sirius, who couldn't risk
leaving the Order's headquarters.  When Harry suggested Hermione, she revealed
he'd actually scored better than her in the class whenever they'd had a
competent teacher.  When he suggested me, I reminded him I couldn't actually do
magic and that he'd had to rescue me from the graveyard last year.  Ultimately,
Harry was convinced, and we moved on to working out the details.  

This wasn't going to be just our group.  Hermione had suggested and I
immediately agreed that anyone who wanted to learn should have the
opportunity.  The plan was for each of us to sound out as many people as we
could, and arrange to meet in the Hog's Head Inn in Hogsmeade on the first
Hogsmeade weekend.  We'd explain the plan to them there and arrange the details
of meeting once everyone was officially agreed.  

                                     * * *


I spent the next few weeks streamlining my schedule.  I'd managed to balance my
coursework, fitting homework into the hours between when I had to be in
Ravenclaw tower and when I had to go to bed.  Ron's Quidditch practices were
irregular, but we managed to squeeze in an hour a week for his alchemy
lessons.  I'd stopped eating and bathing so I could dedicate the time to my
Arithmancy and Muggle Studies work, and simply resumed cleaning myself with
alchemy.  As I predicted, after an initial flurry of docked house points and
detentions, my bugs had managed to root out much of the bullying problem.  

I'd managed to cultivate a reputation for being evenhanded through my prefect
work, which gave me the opportunity to approach the Slytherin students Snape
had identified as being on the outs with Draco and his gang of Death Eater
wannabes.  When they arrived at the Hog's Head, the seediest bar in Hogsmeade,
their presence elicited the expected response.  

"What are they doing here?" demanded Ron.  

"I invited them," I said firmly.  "We agreed this was for anyone who wanted to
learn."  

"Yeah, but they're Slytherins," said Ron.  "Why would we want to make them
better at cursing us?"  

"It's okay, Ron," said Harry.  "It's not like he invited Draco."  

"You can't possibly believe a full quarter of the wizard population is
irredeemably evil, Ron," said Sloth.  

"Look, if we're not wanted-" began one of the Slytherins.  

"You can stay," said Harry firmly.  

There were additional questions and exclamations as other students drifted in. 
Harry had to repeatedly bring them in line.  Impressively, he silenced Fred and
George Weasley's objections with a look before a sound came out of their
mouths.  

Hermione opened the meeting and explained the plan, that we'd meet to learn
proper defense from Harry once a week.  The Quidditch players insisted on
scheduling the meetings around their practices, but other than some token
questions about what Harry really had to teach, which were quickly answered,
there were no objections to the core plan.  Enthusiasm for the plan picked up
further when we explained that Umbridge was here to deliberately sabotage our
defense training because Fudge was afraid Dumbledore wanted to use us as an
army against the Ministry.  

"Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet," said Hermione.
 

"Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets," I supplied.  "We've been using it for
secret training since we found it, and it's got all the space and security we
could ask for.  Besides, I'll bet that's what Slytherin would've wanted it used
for anyway."  

"You mean you really do know where the Chamber of Secrets is?" asked one of the
Slytherins.  "Between that and the parseltongue thing, how are you not in our
house, Harry?"  

"I told the hat I didn't want to," said Harry.  "I wasn't sharing a dorm with
Draco Malfoy."  

"That git cost us Potter," muttered one of the Slytherins angrily. 
"Dumbledore's favorite, best seeker in the school, and the Boy Who lived, and
he's not in Slytherin because we're stuck with Malfoy."  

"We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time for the first
meeting.  I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who
was here," said Hermione, taking a quill and blank parchment from her bag. 
"But I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're
doing.  So, if you do sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge, or anybody
else, about what we're up to."  

Again, there was some hesitation, notably none from the Slytherins, and
ultimately everyone signed.  Back at the castle, Harry coordinated with the
other Quidditch players under the guise of working out practice times, and
worked out a time for our meeting.  Meanwhile, I prepared a set of keys that
would speak the parseltongue open command for the Chamber of Secrets only when
in the hands of the person I handed the key to.  If they were stolen, they
wouldn't do the thief any good.  

                                     * * *


On Monday, a notice board was up in the Ravenclaw common room.  The Ministry
had passed a new decree.  All student groups were suspended pending Umbridge's
approval.  Being part of an unapproved group was punishable by expulsion. 
Umbridge obviously knew what we were up to.  

I promised the Ravenclaws who'd attended that I'd talk to Harry and get back to
them as soon as possible.  It was agreed that we were going forward with this
anyway.  We spread the time, the keys, and the need to visit Moaning Myrtle's
bathroom.  

Everyone made it safely to the Chamber of Secrets for the first meeting.  Once
everyone was there, Hermione again started things off, getting everyone present
to elect a leader.  Harry was agreed to unanimously.  Hopefully, the legitimacy
would help keep backtalk during training to a minimum.  After that, she
insisted we come up with a name.  Mercifully, this didn't turn into a repeat of
the interminable house elf rights group naming debates, and we quickly settled
on Dumbledore's Army as a snub at the Ministry.  DA for short when we might
risk being overheard.  

Finally, the meat of the meeting began with Harry pairing us all off to
practice disarming spells on one another.  Once in the swing of things, Harry
again proved to be an excellent teacher.  There was visible improvement from
just one session.  At the end of the session, Harry used the Marauder's Map to
guide us all safely back to our common rooms.  

After a few sessions, Ron and Hermione had made some improvements to my keys,
replacing them with inconspicuous looking gold galleon coins.  Ron had
reapplied the parseltongue array and encased it inside the coin where it
wouldn't be visible.  Meanwhile, Hermione had magically linked the coins so
when the serial numbers on one coin changed, all the others would change to
match and the coins would get warm to tell us when they changed.  The plan was
for Harry to set the serial number on his coin to the date of the next meeting.
 

Things were finally going smoothly again.  I was keeping up with my classwork. 
Alchemy lessons with Ron were progressing such that he'd know everything I had
to teach him by the OWLs.  Our illegal defense society was improving in combat
ability by leaps and bounds under Harry.  And I still had plenty of free time
to spend with Sloth.  The only negative was that Sir Nicholas had stopped our
fencing lessons in compliance with the new educational decree, and none of us
were going to ask Umbridge to reinstate it.  

Sirius had contacted Harry using the Gryffindor fire to pass along a warning
about our secret defense group.  We'd been overheard during our initial meeting
in the Hog's Head by the wizard who was tailing Harry.  Ron, and the rest of
his siblings were forbidden from participating by Mrs. Weasley.  They ignored
it, of course.  Harry's parents were more supportive, though they insisted he
make sure he wasn't caught.  Sirius also delivered a reminder that owls were
being intercepted and that we shouldn't risk putting anything in writing.  

                                     * * *


Things continued smoothly until Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the
season against Slytherin.  Draco had worked out Ron didn't fly particularly
well when under pressure.  To capitalize on this, he'd organized the Slytherins
into singing a song mocking Ron and his goalkeeping abilities.  It worked.  Ron
choked badly, missing a number of easy saves.  Gryffindor managed to pull off a
win only thanks to Harry catching the Snitch before they were too far behind.  

Unfortunately, once the game was over, Draco managed to provoke Harry and the
Weasley twins into attacking him.  The result was Draco covered in easily
healed scrapes and bruises and Harry and the twins banned from Quidditch by
Umbridge using her new authority granted by Fudge to dish out, remove, and
alter school punishments.  The Quidditch ban was disappointing for them, but
the real problem was the effect this had on the DA.  

The Gryffindors were practically at the Slytherin's throats over what
happened.  I had to snap and raise a wall of flames between them at our next
meeting to stop the shouting and threats of violence from both sides.  I let
the flames die down and the conversation died down to a more reasonable volume.
 

"I thought we were supposed to be on the same side," accused one of the
Gryffindors.  

"In studying defense, not Quidditch," retorted the Slytherin.  "Do Ravenclaw
and Hufflepuff have to throw their games to our leader's house too?"  

"Of course not, but you didn't have to join Malfoy chanting against another DA
member!"  

"This is a secret society!  When we're not down here, we can't let on we're
allies!"  

"Oh, so it was to keep your cover?"  

"It was a Quidditch game!  And besides, Weasley really was lousy."  

"Shut up!" yelled Harry.  

"You tell him, Harry!" said the Gryffindor.  

"Both of you, shut up!" clarified Harry.  Everyone fell silent to hear him
out.  "I want to be mad at Umbridge, and Fudge, and Malfoy!  I want us all to
be on the same side, not trying to kill each other.  Out there, you do what you
have to do, but in here, we're all on the same side.  

"You lot went along with Malfoy's plan, and you helped him mess with Ron.  I
don't like that, but we've all got bigger problems.  And as long as we remember
we're on the same side when it really matters, against Tom, I can live with
it."  

"Look, mate, I know I played rubbish," said Ron.  "They're not wrong saying the
obvious."  

"And we lost our tempers with Malfoy all on our own," said George.  

"Mind you," said Fred, "they're also right about needing to keep our cover that
we don't like each other.  And everyone'll be expecting us to be looking for
payback."  

"As long as we're still on the same side when it counts?" ventured the
Slytherin who'd been speaking up before.  

I never learned what Fred and George did in retaliation, but it didn't put the
Slytherins off attending DA meetings.  The tensions dropped bit by bit, and
Harry managed to get his lesson plan back on track.  

In the meantime, Hagrid had returned from treating with the giants.  News about
the war effort helped focus everyone.  The giants had sided with Voldemort. 
Hagrid had been successfully treating with the chieftain, offering a brand of
ever burning fire conjured by Dumbledore, an indestructible goblin made helmet,
and a roll of dragon skin as gifts to prove our side's good intentions, but a
change in leadership saw a pro Death Eater chieftain put in charge, and Hagrid
had been forced to flee.  He was hopeful that another regime change might come,
but I suspected that hope was bravado for our sakes.  

                                     * * *


Umbridge inspected the first Care of Magical Creatures class we had with
Hagrid.  He was giving a lesson on thestrals.  Throughout the class, she spoke
to Hagrid as though he were too stupid to understand common English and asked
leading questions that Draco and his cronies were all too happy to supply the
answers to.  She was gunning for Hagrid.  

It wasn't surprising.  Hagrid was one of Dumbledore's staunchest supporters, as
evidenced by him returning from the giants covered in bruises and scrapes worse
than I'd ever seen on the man.  He also had a record the Ministry could use
against him.  Given that last time, they'd sent him to Azkaban, I was fast
approaching the limits of my tolerance for Umbridge and for Fudge's regime.  

My mind ticked through options as I helped the other prefects set up the
Christmas decorations.  I had to force myself to dump all variations of "kill
her" into a single category to be evaluated as a whole.  The problem was,
eliminating her would just cause Fudge to replace her.  I could kill him, but
that would mean fighting my way through his Aurors and potentially crippling
any ability of magical Britain to resist Voldemort once he made his move in the
process.  

We were in this situation in the first place because Dumbledore was using every
trained combat wizard he knew in the Order, leaving him with no one to teach
defense.  If he'd just held one back, we wouldn't have Umbridge at all.  We
probably could've learned a lot from a year with the real Moody, for example. 
Then, something clicked into place.  There was a trustworthy wizard not being
occupied with the Order who Dumbledore hadn't thought of, and a way to get him
here.  

"Loki, I'm going to need your help," I told my dog as I worked through the
details.  Everything I needed was either already in Hogwarts or in the Order's
headquarters.  Harry had every excuse to go there and visit Sirius over the
holiday.  I'd need to talk to him before the holiday officially started and get
his help with the plan.  

I'd planned to talk to him between classes, but the next morning, neither he,
nor any of the Weasleys were at breakfast.  Neville and Hermione met Sloth,
Luna, and I in the hall after breakfast and explained what had happened. 
Harry'd had a vision about a snake attacking Arthur Weasley.  He and the
Weasleys had been rushed out of the school shortly after.  

With Umbridge now in charge of all punishments, we didn't dare cut class, but
come lunchtime, the five of us descended on Dumbledore's office on mass. 
Dumbledore looked as though he was expecting us.  Five high backed chairs were
positioned across from his desk.  

"To forestall your questions," said Dumbledore, "yes, Arthur was genuinely
attacked.  Thanks to Harry's prompt action in reporting his vision, Arthur was
found in time.  He is currently in stable condition at St. Mungo's.  I have
sent both his children and Harry to the headquarters of the Order of the
Phoenix at number 12 Grimauld Place, which is both secure and near to St.
Mungo's so they can visit him on his ward."  

"I thought convincing you to let Neville and Luna in on this would take more
persuasion," I admitted.  

"It seemed safer to just open the door than to have you all directing your
talents toward finding a way to break the fidellius charm," replied
Dumbledore.  "Besides which, you have all proven yourselves many times over."  

"Can we go to see Harry?" asked Hermione.  

"I must insist that you stay at Hogwarts until the term is officially over,"
said Dumbledore.  "Once that's done, I shall make arrangements for the Knight
Bus to come pick you up."  

"There's a fireplace in Grimauld Place," I said.  

"True," said Dumbledore, "but the floo network is being monitored.  And
regardless, I do not want to draw any more attention to Harry's connection to
Lord Voldemort than necessary."  

"What is that connection?" I asked.  "I thought it was Tom projecting emotions
deliberately to make Harry unstable and angry to feed into Fudge's smear
campaign.  He's been blocking it with occlumency since Tom's resurrection.  He
wouldn't send Harry a warning about Mr. Weasley, though."  

"It is my belief that Lord Voldemort has been unaware of the risks of the
connection he inadvertently strengthened by using Harry's blood in his
resurrection ritual," said Dumbledore.  "As a result, Harry has been able to
access some of Voldemort's thoughts and emotions when Voldemort is experiencing
strong emotions."  

"Harry's unconsciously performing legilimency?" asked Sloth.  

"It is more fair to say that Voldemort's thoughts are boiling over the surface
and spilling into Harry's mind than that Harry is doing anything in particular
to draw them out," said Dumbledore.  

"He needs legilimency training," I said.  "This is something he needs to
develop and get control of.  If he can dig around in Tom's mind, he can find
out where the other Horcruxes are."  

"No," said Dumbledore firmly.  "Lord Voldemort is a powerful legilimense, and a
talented occlumens.  No good will come of attempting to probe his thoughts."  

"You must not like Mr. Weasley very much," said Luna.  

"She's right.  Good already has come of it," said Neville.  "And this isn't the
first time.  If he'd known legilimency, he could've gotten more details last
year and stopped Tom coming back at all."  

"While those were both fortunate slips on Lord Voldemort's part, we cannot rely
on him remaining so sloppy once he realizes the nature of the connection," said
Dumbledore.  "I know you are all eager to help, but this is not the way."  

"So, we're all going?" asked Hermione briskly.  

"I can meet you all at St. Mungo's," said Neville.  "My gran was planning a
trip anyway."  

"I'll tell my parents I need to stay at Hogwarts to study for exams," said
Hermione.  

"My dad'll be thrilled I'm helping subvert the Ministry of Magic," said Luna.  

"Well, that sounds like a plan, then," I said.  

                                     * * *


Hermione, Sloth, Luna, and I arrived at the headquarters of the Order of the
Phoenix in the early evening.  Riding the Knight Bus was even more terrifying
than traveling by Ministry car.  In addition to driving like a lunatic and
relying on magic to get obstacles like pedestrians, cars, mailboxes, and
buildings safely out of the way, the bus had some sort of teleport system that
sounded like an explosion whenever the bus shifted from town to town.  But most
worryingly, none of the chairs were even bolted down, causing us to slide
around the bus with every stop, start, and turn.  As little as Loki had liked
flying strapped under a broomstick, he seemed to like this even less, and I
didn't blame him one bit.  

Mrs. Weasley answered the door and welcomed us in.  Harry and Ron were having a
chess match on the floor in the living room, where Sirius was talking to James
and Lily about Arthur's condition.  

"Hard to believe the boy just closed up Arthur's wounds like it was nothing
when the healers couldn't manage after days of work," said Sirius.  

"Too bad it didn't do anything about the venom," said James.  "Sounds like
he'll be in the hospital until they find a cure if he doesn't want to bleed to
death from his first paper cut once he's back in the office."  

"You closed the wound?" I asked Ron.  

"Sure did," he said proudly as his bishop beat one of Harry's knights
senseless.  "It's a good thing I kept on with my alchemy training this year."  

"We really can't thank you enough," declared Mrs. Wealey, sweeping Sloth and I
up in a hug.  

"Hi, Hermione, Luna," said Harry.  "You doing alright?"  

After the initial greetings, Harry, Luna, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Sloth, and I
made our way upstairs to talk privately.  As an extra precaution, we switched
to parseltongue.  Not fully satisfied with the precautions, Harry had a
muffling charm thrown over an empty painting.  

"That's a portrait of one of the former headmasters.  He works for Dumbledore
and reports in to him," explained Harry.  

"Good thinking," I said.  "Dumbledore'll be better off if he doesn't find out
about this."  

"You're going to teach Harry legilimency anyway," said Hermione, not quite
managing disapproval in her voice.  

"I would if I knew legilimency," I said.  "As it is, I figure we'll need to
talk to Snape about it once we're back in Hogwarts.  No, I wanted to talk about
getting rid of Umbridge."  

"What are you thinking?" asked Harry cautiously.  

"Well," I said, "Dumbledore only had to hire her because everyone else he could
have asked is busy with the Order, your folks included.  But I realized he
overlooked Sirius."

"Sirius is a wanted criminal," declared Hermione.  "He can't just walk into
Hogwarts."  

"He's done it before," noted Ron.  

"No, that's the beauty of it," I said.  "We can kill two birds with one stone. 
Remember last year?  Barty Crouch Jr.?  We pull the same trick.  Sneak Sirius
into the castle, incapacitate Umbridge, and have Sirius impersonate her with
polyjuice."  

"And as she's right under Fudge, Sirius can get evidence of everything he's
been up to," said Luna.  

"You realize we're talking about going up against the Ministry?" said
Hermione.  "If we get caught, we'll all go to Azkaban."  

"If we don't act, Hagrid'll go back to Azkaban," I said.  

"What?" asked Harry, alarmed.  

"You've seen how she's been digging up dirt on him," I said.  "Whether she
finds anything or has to trump something up, you know the Ministry won't be
happy with just sacking him."  

"All her classes are just reading from the book," said Ginny, thoughtfully. 
"We could coach him on everything he needs to know."  

"Fudge's wasted half a year fighting us instead of Tom," said Harry.  "Maybe it
is time we started hitting back."  

"How are we going to sneak Sirius out of here without him being missed if we're
planning to keep Dumbledore out of this?" asked Hermione.  It was a practical
question.  Everyone was done objecting once Harry made up his mind.  

I stroked Loki's head and said, "Sirius has been sulking over not being useful
lately.  I'm thinking once Harry leaves again, he'll get so moody he'll start
sulking as a dog."  

"Switch him for Loki?  That's brilliant!" said Ron.  

"It won't take much transfiguration to swap their builds and coloration," said
Hermione.  

"Loki's probably safer here as Sirius' double than he'd be at Hogwarts anyway,"
I said.  "Only a matter of time before Umbridge tried to hurt him to get to
me."  

"This doesn't mean we have to stop the DA, does it?" asked Luna.  

Harry shook his head.  "Sirius'll have to pretend to be her in classes still,
and that means being a rubbish teacher."  

                                     * * *


Grimauld Place was surprisingly cheery over the holidays.  Harry's parents and
the Weasleys were around the whole holiday.  Lots of questions about our school
year were asked.  We denied ever having formed the DA, and complained freely
about Umbridge.  Attempts were made to get the Order members to talk about what
they were guarding, but no one really expected success at that.  

Harry'd approached Sirius in private, and he proved every bit as enthusiastic
about he plan as I'd hoped.  Sirius recruited James and Lupin to help cover for
him while he was out.  He explained about Loki serving as his double, and they
didn't ask where he was going.  

Bill spoke freely about what he'd managed to learn about the security around
the Lestrange vault.  It was extreme, but not impregnable.  No security was
absolute.  In addition to being past the thief's downfall, a product of goblin
magic that washes away all active spell effects, including things like
polyjuice and the Imperius curse, there was a dragon chained up outside.  The
wall would only open at the touch of a Gringotts employed goblin, then you get
into the security inside the vault itself.  The gold was charmed to heat to
flesh searing temperatures and multiply itself when disturbed.  The duplication
was temporary like leprechaun gold, but it lasted long enough to crush and burn
any intruder.  

Sloth and I could hop down to the vault today based on what Bill told us.  The
real problem was that doing so would piss off the goblins.  As it was,
Voldemort had made a robbery attempt a few years back using Quirrell, and that,
more than anything else, made the goblins disinclined to sign on to his side in
the coming war.  They had plenty of grievances against the Ministry of Magic,
chief among them the wand ban for nonhumans, but the last thing we wanted to do
was give them a reason to overlook or consider balanced out Voldemort's robbery
attempt.  

Gaining access to the vault through legitimate means was problematic.  As
Sirius aptly demonstrated, being a known fugitive on the run from the dementors
mattered not in the slightest to the goblins.  They were extremely independent
from the Ministry, and had no mechanism for forfeiting the contents of a
criminal's vault.  Once the Lestranges died in Azkaban, the vault's contents
would be passed on to their closest relatives and next of kin, the Malfoys,
which was hardly better.  

This year, I'd gotten everyone remembralls, so we could check regularly if our
memories had been modified.  It was unlikely with our occlumency training, but
seemed better safe than sorry.  Plus, they'd serve as useful study aids in our
OWL year, even if they weren't allowed during the test itself.  

Mrs. Weasley had knitted us all sweaters.  Harry had gotten me a knife, which
was supposed to be able to open any lock, even those charmed to protect against
normal unlocking spells.  Sirius had gotten him one last year.  Sloth had given
me a book filled with drawings of all the major events that had happened since
coming to Hogwarts.  She'd gotten very good indeed, approaching the photo
realism of Alex Loius Armstrong's artwork.  

Fred and George apparated into the room while we were going through our gifts. 
They warned us not to go downstairs just yet, as Mrs. Weasley was crying. 
Percy had returned his gifts unopened.  Apparently, he hadn't even asked after
his father's health while he was in the hospital.  

After Mrs. Weasley had settled down and we all had lunch, our group headed to
St. Mungo's for a visit with Arthur.  The wizard hospital was concealed behind
a barrier similar to the one at King's Cross Station.  We stepped through a
display window in front of a closed shop and found ourselves in the lobby.  He
was pleased to see us, and chatted happily about the continuing search for an
antivenom.  They apparently had him on a regular blood replenishing potion.  

I offered to make him a homunculus, but he brushed the offer off.  James and
Lily still weren't legally recognized as themselves, and there would be
problems if he was found out.  Besides, he wanted to help the hospital find the
antivenom in case they needed it to treat the victims of another attack by
Voldemort's snake.  

We met Neville there as planned.  He was visiting his parents there, who had
been driven permanently insane by prolonged use of the Cruciatus curse by
Belatrix Lestrange.  It was what got her imprisoned in Azkaban.  Neville came
down with us, along with his grandmother, to visit Arthur and wish him a speedy
recovery.  

The healers did eventually find an antivenom, and Arthur returned to Grimauld
Place before the end of the holiday.  There was a sense of anticipation in the
air as the time to return to Hogwarts approached.  We made the switch of Sirius
for Loki at the last possible minute, during the distracting jumble of last
minute packing, hugs goodbye, and well wishes.  One trip on the Knight Bus
later, and we were back at Hogwarts, ready to implement stage two of the plan.
 

                                     * * *


Sirius followed me as I attended my classes the first day like Loki usually
did.  He was far more poorly trained than Loki, which I feared might prove a
giveaway.  Fortunately, he wouldn't have to keep up the chirade for long.  At
the end of my first day of classes, I headed down to Umbridge's office.  

"Professor Umbridge," I said as I entered.  "I have something important to tell
you.  It's about Professor Trelawney."  

"She's one of your favorite teachers, isn't she?" said Umbridge, adopting her
falsely sweet voice.  "I understand you dropped Arithmancy so you could
continue taking lessons with her."  

The reminder of my confiscated time turner was deliberate.  A measured reminder
that she had the power to take things away form me.  It was a pity the plan
called for her to be captured alive.  I took out a notebook and showed it to
her.  

"I've kept track of all Professor Trelawney's predictions since my first class
with her.  Whenever one turns out to be true or false, I make a note of it in
another column.  She's got a really good track record.  Look."  

"As you are not the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Mr. Oren, it is not your opinion
of... Professor... Trelawney's abilities that matters."  

"But don't you remember?  She predicted you were in danger!  She was right." 
That last sentence was spoken in a cold, calm voice without a hint of the
previous pleading.  I raised my wand and a jet of blue light flew from the tip,
knocking her unconscious.  The DA meetings had significantly improved my
ability to emulate a stunning spell.  

At my side, Sirius shook off his Loki disguise and resumed human form.  He cut
off a hair from her unconscious form as I fished a vial of polyjuice out of my
bag.  

"You know she won't remember any of that once we modify her memory and let her
go at the end of the year, right?" said Sirius, dropping the hair into the
potion.  

"I got to see the look on her face," I replied.  "That's all that matters."  

Making sure his clothing wouldn't get in the way, Sirius downed the contents of
my vial and transformed into a duplicate of Professor Umbridge.  He gagged and
wrinkled his nose, saying, "Taking that every hour for the rest of the year is
the one downside of this plan."  

Snatching up her wand, Sirius bound her with conjured ropes and stuffed her
into a trunk.  He cast a spell to muffle sounds from the trunk and started
going through her papers.  

"I'll leave you to your preparations," I said, placing a tray with twenty four
crstal vials on Umbridge's desk.  See you in class."  

Leaving the office, I went to find Harry and the others.  I found them working
on the day's homework in the library.  Everyone looked very distracted.  

"It's done," I hissed in parseltongue.  "Now it's time to go see Snape."  

"I still don't like this part of the plan," hissed Harry as he packed his
books.  "This'll mean pretending to take remedial potions again.  My mom'll
kill me if I can't pass my potions OWL with all these extra lessons I'm not
actually having."  

"You know you're not really bad at it," hissed Ron.  "Snape just grades you
unfairly to suck up the Slytherins."  

"That does make it harder to assess where he actually is in the class, though,"
noted Hermione.  

"Oh well," said Harry.  "I might get lucky and Dumbledore'll have forbidden
Snape from teaching me legilimency."  

                                     * * *


"The headmaster has expressly forbidden me from teaching you legilimency,
Potter," said Snape.  "He is under the impression that if you are trained in
legilimency, you will do something foolish like try to look into the Dark
Lord's mind through the connection you share.  I, on the other hand, know
differently."  

"You do?" asked Harry, looking between Snape and us.  

A smug smile crept over Snape's features.  "I do, Potter.  The truth is, you
will recklessly attempt to access the Dark Lord's mind in any case, under the
misguided idea that doing so would qualify as helping in the effort to defeat
him.  The only difference is that without proper legilimency training, your
efforts to do so will be clumsy, obvious, and will likely open your mind up to
the Dark Lord's influence long before you acquired any useful information."  

"So you'll teach me?" asked Harry.  

"Certain conditions must apply to my answer," said Snape with a frown.  "First,
the headmaster must never hear about this.  Take any information you acquire to
me, and I will bring it to the Order's attention in such a way as to not reveal
you as the source.  Secondly, you must swear to attempt no legilimency against
the Dark Lord until I say.  As a skillful occlumens, he will detect your
initial, clumsy intrusions, and be put on his guard."  

"Why do you get the credit for anything Harry learns?" demanded Ron.  

"Intelligence work is not about credit, Mr. Weasley," said Snape, not quite
rolling his eyes.  "It is about giving your side accurate information.  Any
information retrieved from the Dark Lord's mind must be considered suspect
until it is independently verified.  My position within the Dark Lord's inner
circle affords me more chances to verify, and a plausible place for me to have
learned things without informing the headmaster of your determination to ignore
his instructions."  

"When can we start?" asked Hermione.  

"We," Snape emphasized, "will not be starting at all.  I have agreed to teach
Potter, not your entire little clique.  With the Dark Lord risen, I do have
other strains on my time these days.  Besides which, absolutely no one would
believe you need to take remedial potions, Miss Granger."  

"But I do," said Neville, screwing up his courage to face the man who was his
boggart.  "You don't have to teach me, but I'm not leaving Harry alone with
you."  

"Do you no longer consider your basilisk a sufficient threat, Longbottom?"
asked Snape disdainfully.  

"She might not recognize what you might do as an attack," said Neville.  

"No one'll believe it really is just remedial potions if Neville isn't there,"
said Luna.  "He's the worst student in the class."  

"Way to show your support," said Ron with mock enthusiasm.  

"So, we're agreed?" I said.  

"Very well," said Snape.  

                                     * * *


With two new conspiracies set in motion, I settled down to bed in the Ravenclaw
dorms feeling accomplished and invigorated.  We were finally making progress
against our revealed enemies.  The next morning brought news of a setback.  In
the Daily Prophet, news of ten of Voldemort's Death Eaters escaping Azkaban was
front page news.  

Fudge was blaming Sirius rather than admit he was wrong about Voldemort being
back.  The Lestrangers were among those out of Azkaban.  I wasn't sure, but it
felt like that should provide an opening to get access to their vault and the
horcrux within.  Unfortunately, nothing was coming immediately to mind.  

In my first defense class with Sirius, it was clear he was planning to take
full advantage of the news.  Life sized wanted posters of each of the escaped
Death Eaters were up on the board.  Beneath each was a list of their crimes.  

"Good afternoon, class," said Sirius just as we'd coached him over the holiday.
 

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," chimed the class dully.  

"Wands away," said Sirius unnecessarily.  "As we finished chapter sixteen last
lesson, I would like you all to put your copies of Defensive Magical Theory
away and retrieve your quills."  

People stopped turning pages in their books after taking a moment to process
that the lesson would not be silent reading.  

"As many of you have no doubt heard, a number of former members of the Death
Eaters have escaped from Azkaban.  The crimes for which they were imprisoned
and the means the Aurors used to apprehend them should serve as a good set of
real world examples of what you've been studying."  

He was still eschewing practical training and sticking with theory, but Sirius
walked us through detailed case studies of the criminal careers of the ten
escaped Death Eaters.  He discussed their dueling styles and favorite spells. 
He detailed the investigative process used in the last war and after to track
down Voldemort's supporters.  It was as informative and interesting as a pure
theory class could be.  I was feeling really good about my decision to have the
woman replaced.  

"Do you suppose Sirius overdid it?" asked Ron that evening when we met for his
alchemy lesson.  "I mean, someone's bound to notice he's teaching useful
stuff."  

"I guess he's counting on everyone assuming the Death Eater breakouts got the
Ministry to soften its policy," I said, finishing my check of the security. 
"Okay, so we finished amplifiers last term, so today, we're going to start in
on how you use the Gate to travel between worlds."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Our heroes are taking the war seriously, reaching for every advantage they can
get their hands on. 
***** Romantic Interlude 22 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 49) Romantic Interlude 22
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 50.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


"I think I've finally got a handle on the homework load for this year," said
Sloth when I met her in the Chamber of Secrets later that week.  "That homework
planner of Hermione's is more help than I thought it'd be.  I still think
you're crazy trying for all twelve OWLs without a time turner."  

"I'm managing," I said.  "It's just a good thing I don't have to pretend to be
human anymore or skipping meals to study Arithmancy would get suspicious."  

"You know the house elves are going to start to feel insulted if you keep not
eating, right?"  

"I'm still doing breakfast," I said defensively.  

"You just come for the morning mail and you know it," teased Sloth.  

"You got me," I admitted.  "But I do eat while I'm there.  It's one of the few
pleasures I've allowed myself between all the training and homework this year."
 

"Well, it's nice to know I'm in such rare company as your morning scrambled
eggs."  

I smiled at her.  "I know meeting up once a week like this is way less often
than you'd like, even if it is way more often than we could manage last year."
 

"I was the one who was enjoying the school experience in the first place," said
Sloth.  "I can't really complain that you're getting into it now."  

"Well, you could.  It probably wouldn't change anything, but nothing's stopping
you from complaining."  

"Well, in that case, you're probably planning to do the same thing in your NEWT
years, aren't you?"  

"If I can get in, yeah," I admitted.  "Hopefully, at some point, Hermione or
one of the others will figure out how to make me a new time turner."  

"That'll be nice.  I've been thinking of so many ideas that require the use of
one."  

"Speaking of ideas, I've been thinking about something I'd like to try."  

"Oh?"  

"I wanted to try a little shape shifting not constrained by the human form."  

"If it's furry, with four legs, I'm not interested," said Sloth firmly.  

"Not quite what I had in mind," I said.  "It's probably easier to just show
you."  

Blue light ran across my body, breaking it down and radically restructuring my
anatomy.  The end result was a kind of boneless, fleshy lump about the size of
my torso in human form.  Tentacles protruded along the equator of the mass, and
a pair of eye stalks rose from the top.  

"What do I even do?" asked Sloth, staring dubiously.  

I didn't have a mouth, so I instead responded by extending the four tentacles
pointing in her general direction and wrapping them around her back to gently
pull her toward me.  I'd given the tentacles touch and taste receptors, so the
sensation was akin to wrapping her in an embrace and licking her back at the
same time.  

Sloth cautiously stepped closer, still not entirely convinced of this.  The
tentacles already touching her back, I rubbed along her body, from the nape of
her neck, down her back, along her butt, and down her legs.  Each tentacle
followed its own pattern.  I kept both eyes on her expression.  Mild disgust
was turning to curiosity as I got used to the sensations I was getting from the
tentacles on her back.  

I brought two new tentacles up to gently caress her cheeks, as six more started
touching her chest, stomach, and legs.  A hand closed around one of the
tentacles touching her face, and Sloth began to stroke it.  With that overt
gesture of approval, I slid one of my tentacles between her legs and tasted her
moistening pussy.  I wrapped that tentacle around her upper thing for bracing,
and a second around her other leg.  Each of those two tentacles began teasing
its tip at an orifice.  One at her vagina, the other at her anus.  

Sloth opened her mouth and pulled the tentacle she'd been stroking into her
mouth to suck on it.  I carefully pried her hands off that tentacle, and
positioned each hand on its own tentacle, the tips of which were rubbing
themselves on her cheeks.  Two tentacles wrapped around her upper arms and
teased at Sloth's nipples with their tips.  

A muffled cry of surprise came as I lifted Sloth off her feet with the
tentacles I'd wrapped around her arms and legs.  With no sign of objection, I
turned her over in midair to get a good look with my eye stalks, then I
penetrated her, vaginally and anally at the same time.  

The one tentacle not already actively involved with her nipples, hands, tongue,
pussy, or ass, I wrapped around her midriff and ran the tip up and down her
back, frequently touching her oroboros mark.  

A pleasant vibration ran through the tentacle in her mouth as a muffled moan of
pleasure tried to escape.  She sucked hard even as the tentacles penetrating
her vagina and anus trusted in and out of her tiny, four year old body out of
sync with each other.  I was tasting every part of her body all at once, nearly
as overwhelmed as she was at the center of my nest of tentacles.  

I reached my orgasm first.  Every tentacle was part arm, part tongue, and part
penis.  A duct ran through the center of each from the central mass all the way
down to an opening at the tip.  Semen, generated in the central mass, was
propelled in spurts along the length of each tentacle, to shoot out of me and
both into and onto her.  

My ejaculating all over her body as well as inside every orifice came as a
surprise to Sloth, and she found herself brought to orgasm by the intensity of
the experience.  As the majority of my central mass was dedicated to producing
semen, I could continuously orgasm for a very long time without needing to
replenish myself using regeneration energy.  Cum pumped down her throat, up her
ass, into her uterus, and rapidly covering every inch of skin on her body.  

My lover gripped hard on the tentacles spurting on her face, closed her eyes,
tried to swallow as best she could, and involuntarily bucked against the
restraining tentacles binding her limbs.  She had no intention of limiting her
pleasure to a human's ability to enjoy this experience, prolonging her orgasm
as I continued to spurt semen out of every tentacle.  My central mass shriveled
visibly as its contents were emptied in a sexual frenzy the like of which no
human could experience.  

Ultimately, after expelling four gallons of semen, leaving every part of Sloth
utterly soaked in sticky white fluid, I lowered her quivering body to the
ground, withdrew my tentacles, and shifted back into human form.  I wiped away
some of the thick coating of sperm gumming her eyes shut with my thumb so she
could open her eyes as she enjoyed the afterglow.  She made no move to clean
herself further.  She just looked up at me and smiled.  

"I take it you enjoyed yourself?" I inquired, beaming down at her.  

"A lot more than I was expecting to," said Sloth after a long pause.  "It's not
quite being the center of a three on one gang bang, but it has its own appeal. 
I don't think you could physically fit that many penises all those places at
once if they weren't on tentacles, could you?"  

"I doubt it," I agreed.  "So, we'll put this into our regular rotation?"  

"Definitely," said Sloth nodding.  Then she closed her eyes, leaned her head
back, and rubbed her chest and stomach with her hands.  "So much cum.  I want
to just wallow in it for a while."  

"Take your time," I encouraged her.  "I'll watch and let you know when it's
time to clean up and head back to the dorms."  

After a few minutes, I found myself getting hard watching her, so I started
masturbating.  She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn't notice
until the first spurt of my ejaculate spattered down on her naked body, already
soaked with excessive quantities of the same.  She stared up at me as I
finished relieving the pressure.  When I finished, and my penis went flaccid
again, she spoke.  

"Just from looking at me like this?"  

"I keep telling you you're sexy and you keep being surprised to find out I mean
it," I told her.  

It was a good thing we'd been studying vanishing in transfiguration, as the
cleanup involved wasn't going to work out by just breaking down the molecular
structure of that much sheer mass.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Yes, they've graduated to tentacle monster sex.  The negotiations on how they
will be using their shape shifting in the bedroom are an ongoing thing, but the
limits laid down here will be stuck to.  There are just some things neither of
our couple are interested in. 
***** Rescuing Percy *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 50) Rescuing Percy
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


The seven of us took turns letting Harry practice legilimency on us.  Our
occlumency training left us all aware enough of his intrusions to offer useful
criticisms.  We were initially just projecting a single clear thought so Harry
could learn to correctly interpret what he saw in our minds, but eventually,
he'd move on to learning to probe past our defenses in preparation for
Voldemort.  

Harry was carrying a recording device like the one we'd used to record Lupin's
animagus instructions.  That way, once Snape finished the lessons, the others
would be able to learn too.  I felt a little left out, but consoled myself with
the knowledge that I'd at least get a good understanding of the theory and the
learning process.  

Sirius' defense lessons continued in the same vein as his first class, going
over Death Eater tacics and countermeasures by the Aurors from the last
wizarding war.  Since they didn't know about the replacement, Hagrid and
Trelawney both remained nervous about their poor performance reviews by
Umbridge.  Both were trying to make it up by giving us the best preparation
they could for the OWLs.  

The Death Eater breakouts galvanized the DA members, who worked harder than
ever to master the skills Harry was teaching them.  No one was working harder
than Neville.  Though he didn't say it, it was obvious that with the ones who
tortured his parents walking free, he was intent on avenging them.  He even
took back up his animagus training that he'd quit on last year, reasoning that
if Petigrew could do it in his fifth year, there was nothing stopping him.  

At the beginning of February, Harry got the eight of us together.  Whatever
this was about, Ron looked upset and Hermione looked conflicted.  We found an
empty classroom and used parseltongue for security as usual.  

"We have a big problem," hissed Harry urgently.  "Sirius nicked some
veritasyrum from Snape's stores to interrogate Umbridge with.  It turns out,
she sent the dementors after me this summer."  

"Fudge didn't order it?" I asked, surprised.  

"She did it on her own," Harry confirmed.  "The problem is, getting me to
perform underage magic and using that as a pretext to destroy my wand wasn't
her idea.  Percy'd been floating that idea around Fudge's inner circle since
his promotion.  Umbridge was just the first one to act on it."  

"Percy?" I asked.  "I knew he was supporting Fudge's version of events, but we
were pretty sure destroying your wand was a Death Eater goal after what
happened in the graveyard."  

"So Percy is a Death Eater?" asked Luna conversationally.  

"No!" snapped Ron.  "Percy's a complete prat, but he's not evil.  He'd never
join the Death Eaters."  

"We think someone got to him and put him under the Imperius curse," said
Ginny.  "That's why he's been so thorough about cutting off ties with the
family.  Why he never even checked on dad when he was in the hospital.  We're
his family.  We know him better than anyone else.  We'd realize he was acting
strange."  

"It makes sense," said Hermione.  "The Order's been checking and rechecking
Fudge for signs of the Imperius curse.  Percy's in a junior position and
wouldn't be checked as thoroughly by the Order or the Aurors, but he's still
with Fudge all the time, where he can make suggestions and feed his paranoia
about Dumbledore."  

"We have to rescue him," said Sloth at once.  

"Of course we're rescuing him," said Harry.  "That's why we're talking about
it.  The question is how?  We know Dumbledore and the Order are short staffed
to the point they need Mundungus Fletcher to pull guard duty shifts.  On top of
that, if we bring them in on this, we'll have to explain about Sirius and how
we found out."  

"Is this something we can do ourselves?" asked Neville.  

"He lives alone in a London flat," said Ginny.  "Breaking in and capturing
him'd be easy."  

"Obviously, the hard part is breaking him free of the Imperius curse," I said. 
"We don't know who put it on him, so killing the caster or forcing them to lift
the curse is out."  

"What about the thieve's downfall?" asked Harry.  "Bill said it washed away
active spell effects, and he mentioned someone trying to steal something by
Imperiusing the vault's owner and getting foiled by it."  

"That's goblin magic," said Hermione, "and they guard their secrets jealously."
 

"We don't need to learn how to make one," said Harry.  "We just need to get
Percy into the one under Gringotts."  

"Sloth and I have a vault protected by it," I said.  "Unlimited money so we
paid extra for their best security."  

"I don't think knocking him over the head and hauling him into Gringotts would
work very well," mused Ron.  "If we had some of Fudge's hair we could use
polyjuice.  Percy wouldn't question anywhere Fudge wanted to take him."  

"One of us could do it," said Sloth.  "It wouldn't have to hold up very long. 
Just one trip from Percy's flat to Diagon Alley."  

"You're a better actor than I am," I admitted.  

"Should I pop into the Lestrange vault while I'm down there?" asked Sloth.  

"No," said Harry.  "We don't want to provoke the goblins.  Especially not until
we're sure that's the last horcrux."  

"Ideally, you should go on a Hogsmeade weekend," I suggested.  "No one'll miss
you that way and you can take the floo network from one of the places in town."
 

"The next one coming is valentine's day," pouted Sloth.  "You had better have
chocolates and flowers waiting when I get back."  

"Percy'll want to catch up with his family anyway," I said.  "Flowers and
chocolate'll be just the start."  

"I really don't need to hear about this," said Ginny.  

"Are you sure you can manage this on your own?" asked Harry.  

"No problem," said Sloth.  "I'll make an early morning of it so you'll have all
day to catch up and compare notes with him.  

"Speaking of Valentine's day, Harry," said Hermione, "I've been talking to Luna
and do you think you could meet us at the Three Broomsticks around midday?" 
Ginny raised an eyebrow, and Hermione quickly said, "Nothing like that!"  

"I'm just saying," said Ginny.  "I'm stuck with an all day Quidditch practice
and Lust here decides to lure away my boyfriend with help from another girl." 
It was good natured teasing and everyone knew it, but that didn't stop Hermione
from being flustered.  

"Oh, for goodness sake," she huffed.  "It's about arranging an interview.  I'm
still blackmailing Rita Skeeter, so I'm going to have her write an article with
Harry's account of Tom's resurrection."  

"My dad's happy to punish Harry's interview," said Luna.  

"Well, it's nice to know none of you'll be bored while Ginny and I are stuck in
Quidditch practice," said Ron dryly.  

"I'm still not allowed on Hogsmeade trips," said Neville.  "Maybe I'll get some
more work in on my animagus transformation."  

                                     * * *


With two weeks until those plans were set into motion, I dedicated a bit of my
free time to solving a mystery.  Hagrid was showing up to Care of Magical
Creatures classes covered in fresh bruises, scrapes, and strains.  He adamantly
refused to discuss where he was getting them, and given Hagrid's track record
on keeping secrets, saying absolutely nothing and successfully avoiding our
questions was out of character.  

To solve the mystery, I dispatched one of my metal bugs to follow Hagrid and
report back to me.  I made sure to double check my privacy before letting it
replay what it had seen.  Apparently, Hagrid's mission hadn't been quite as
unsuccessful as he claimed.  There was a giant int he forbidden forest.  

Based on the surveillance footage, Hagrid was trying to teach manners and
English to the giant, who's name was Grawp.  Grawp was reasonably friendly and
good natured, but seemed to not know his own strength.  Hagrid's injuries were
a result of Grawp lashing out when confused or frustrated.  The centaurs
weren't shy about telling Hagrid they weren't happy with Grawp's presence, but
Hagrid stood his ground, insisting Grawp had just as much right to live in the
forest as they did.  

Deciing I'd nosed around enough in Hagrid's affairs, I left the matter there. 
Hagrid didn't seem to be in any real danger from the giant, and if his efforts
succeeded, we'd have a new ally.  Not spreading it around was a no brainer.  I
could tell the others that Hagrid was safe if their concern threatened to cause
them to do something foolish, but otherwise, this was Hagrid's secret to keep
or tell.  

Classes were going well.  I remained nervous about whether the examiners would
give me credit on the practical portion of my OWLs when I emulated the effects
of spell using alchemy if I was using the right wand movements and
pronunciation.  I wasn't even sure they believed me when I said I was a
muggle.  Most of my classmates still didn't.  

It was a sort of quiet bigotry.  Most wizards found it impossible to believe
muggles could ever accomplish feats comparable to wizards.  It might well work
in my favor.  But I didn't know who was conducting the tests, and they might
not yet know themselves how they were going to treat me.  All I could do was
study the theory, drill on wand movements and incantations, and remind myself
that even if I failed every practical that involved using magic, I still had a
shot at nine OWLs.  

Hermione's practice OWLs combined with my grades in class had me feeling pretty
confident I wouldn't be kicked out of Hogwarts on the grounds of not being
qualified to move on to NEWTs in any subject, but I wanted to keep studying
everything.  Almost as important to me, I wanted to prove you didn't need to be
born special to grow up to be a certified wizard.  

                                     * * *


Fred and George planned to watch the all day Gryffindor Quidditch practice on
Valentine's day, but I convinced them to come along to Hogsmeade with Sloth and
I.  Once we were in Hogsmeade, I brought them to the Shrieking Shack while
Sloth headed off on her mission.  In the privacy of the Shrieking Shack, I
explained to the Weasley twins what we believed had happened to Percy, and our
plan to rescue him.  

"Let me get this straight," said Fred.  "Percy's been acting like more of a
prat than usual because someone on You-Know-Who's side has him under the
Imperius curse?"  

I nodded.  

"And he staged the row with dad and leaving the family so we wouldn't figure it
out?" asked George.  

I nodded again.  

"And the Death Eaters've been using him to make Fudge paranoid about
Dumbledore, try to get Harry's wand destroyed, and saddle us with a useless
defense teacher?" Fred confirmed.  

I nodded a third time.  

"Well, now it all makes sense," said George.  "You've been hanging around with
Looney Lovegood too long.  She's rubbed off on you."  

"You know Tom's back," I said.  "Do you really think he'd do nothing for a full
year?"  

"What's Tom care about Percy?" asked Fred.  

"He cares about hurting Harry," I said.  "And you're all the closest thing he's
had to family until his parents came back.  And let's face facts, he still
barely knows them."

"Breaking up our family to hurt Harry?" asked George.  "You'd think a so-called
Dark Lord would be too busy conquering the world to bother with something so
petty."  

"He made up a scary sounding name so he wouldn't be called Tom anymore.  He put
a taboo on his new name so everyone would be too afraid to say it.  And, oh
yes, he tried to kill a baby because his parents defied him.  He is exactly
that petty."  

"He's got a point," said Fred.  

"Okay, we give Percy a chance to explain himself, then we jinx him within an
inch of his life," said George cheerfully.  

"If he really was breaking mum's heart under the Imperius curse, he'll feel bad
enough to want a bit of punishment," said Fred.  

"And if he was doing it on his own, he'll deserve it," agreed George.  

"Do you mind doing the jinxing someplace else?" I asked.  "I've got a date here
a little later today."  

Sloth walked in through a wall holding Percy's hand about an hour later.  She
came over to me and nodded with a smile while Percy approached his brothers.  

"Lucius Malfoy," said Percy, "put me under the Imperius curse.  He's going to
Azkaban for this."  

"Is it true?" asked Fred.  "You said all those things to dad because he made
you?"  

"Yes," said Percy.  "I feel awful about it, but I'm going to make it up to
you."  

"Mum's been crying about you," said George.  "You'd best tell her what happened
right away."  

"First thing I'll do once I talk to Fudge," said Percy earnestly.  

"No," said Fred.  "First thing you'll do period."  

The twins proceeded to make good on their plan to jinx Percy in ways I hadn't
previously known were possible.  I made a mental note to include a bit on what
happens when certain jinxes interact with one another on the same target in the
written portion of my defense OWL.  Meanwhile, the twins trussed Percy up and
carried him off to see Mrs. Weasley.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
I decided to have Percy acting under the Imperius curse for a few reasons. 
First, the falling out with his family seemed forced.  Him getting promoted
right after being made a scapegoat for the Barty Crouch Sr. incident was an
obvious ploy, and Percy isn't too stupid to notice that it's suspicious
timing.  Additionally, the whole point of the Imperius curse narratively is to
make it clear even people who are genuinely trustworthy aren't above suspicion
of acting on Voldemort's agenda.  Turning families against one another is
exactly the sort of thing it ought to be doing narratively.  Given how little
Percy says after arriving for the Battle of Hogwarts, I don't consider this to
be contradicting canon, even if this is stretching things just a little. 
***** Romantic Interlude 23 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 51) Romantic Interlude 23
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 52.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


Once the Weasleys left and I was alone with Sloth in the Shrieking Shack, I
asked, "So, did you have any trouble?"  

"Nope," she said, pleased with herself.  "All according to plan.  Good thing we
told the goblins to let in anyone with the key and an oroboros mark."  

"I'm glad the Weasleys are going to be able to patch things up," I said. 
"They're good people."  

"Lucius Malfoy going to Azkaban's nice too," said Sloth.  "Even if Tom does
break him out like the rest, he'll be a wanted man, in no position to bribe
anyone from now on."  

"I'd say after that, we've earned ourselves a reward."  I stomped my foot, and
a wave of blue alchemic light surged through the house.  Wallpaper was restored
to pristine condition, broken furniture was repaired and put upright, and the
collected dust, mold, and detritus that had accumulated over its decade
standing empty served as base material for a dinner for two.  I snapped my
fingers and the candles on the table lit.  I pulled out Sloth's chair for her
then took my seat across from her.  

"It is flattering, in a way," said Sloth, "that you'd rather eat transmuted
garbage with me than bother with the expertly prepared dinners the house elves
make when we have to sit at different tables."  

"I'd have the same preference if it weren't transmuted," I said.  "The
company's way more important than the food."  

"Not that I'm complaining about the food," said Sloth, breathing in the aroma
of the steaming pork chops and boiled potatoes.  "You've obviously given this a
lot of thought."

"Out there, there's a war on whether people realize it or not.  Exams are
coming up and the studying and homework are just going to be getting heavier. 
For now, I just wanted to leave all that outside."  

Taking her first bite, Sloth looked suspiciously from the meat to me.  "How did
you do that?  These are the ones from Hogwarts."  

"I asked them for their recipe," I said, smiling.  "It did take some convincing
to talk the elves into telling me the recipe.  They kept insisting on catering
for our candlelit dinner."  

As we ate, we chatted about lighthearted subjects.  We discussed how we were
going to tell the Elrics about everything that had happened when we returned to
our world.  I floated my plan to establish a magic school in Liore using
everything I learned at Hogwarts.  Noah was definitely a witch.  She'd worked
out legilimency for herself, but she could do so much more if she could master
the Hogwarts curriculum.  It would be a start for Liore to become a truly
unique center of learning.  

"Not to mention a military powerhouse populated by immortals no one in their
right mind would dare try and conquer ever again," added Sloth knowingly.  

"I want them to be safe," I said.  "Safe from guns and bullets and state
alchemists, yes, but also safe from charlatans, hucksters, and con artists.  A
school is a better defense for both than an army ever could be."  

"Well, dinner was wonderful, Greed."  

"Does that mean you're ready for desert?"  

"I couldn't eat another bite," said Sloth.  

"That's not what I was talking about," I said, slyly.  

I offered my hand, and Sloth took it.  Helping her out of her seat, I
extinguished the candles and led her into the next room.  Sloth gasped in shock
and her eyes went wide.  

"What is this?" she asked quietly.  

The room had the sealing array from Lab Five drawn along its walls.  A set of
manacles hung from the ceiling on chains in the center of the room.  A second
set was anchored to the floor beneath them.  Each set of manacles had a
transmutation circle engraved on it and an indentation for a red stone to be
placed.  

"We've tried bondage a few times before," I said, "but you are really hard to
keep tied up when you're trying as hard as  you can to get out.  I think I've
got a setup here that you can't get out of unless I let you out."  

"How does it work?" she asked.  

"The array on the walls neutralizes the red stones in our bodies.  We won't
have our enhanced strength, or our regeneration, or our shape shifting.  The
manacles will shift between different materials to prevent you from using your
Ultimate Escape to get free.  You'll be suspended off the ground so you can't
use your Ultimate Escape to carve a transmutation circle into the floor and get
out that way.  Once you're locked up, your only way out is the safe word. 
Unless you want a new one, we'll keep using 'quill'."  

"This is way better than flowers and chocolates," said Sloth.  

"Oh, I got you those too," I said.  "Part of how I convinced the house elves
not to cater dinner was by asking them to deliver them to your room while we
were out."  

Sloth shifted into her four year old form and skipped happily to the center of
the room.  I clapped my hands, and the manacles snapped out and grabbed her
mid-skip.  The array around the room glowed faintly, and I slipped the red
stones into place on Sloth's manacles before she could respond.  

"And now you're mine," I said, lacing my tone with malice.  

Sloth tested her chains, tugging and squirming.  Then she looked up at me. 
"You'll never get away with this," she said.  "Someone'll come and rescue me."
 

"We're in the Shrieking Shack," I reminded her.  "They'll hear your screams and
do nothing."  

I slapped her hard across the face.  The sealing array around the room
neutralized my superhuman strength too, but I was larger than she was, with an
adult musculature.  An angry red hand print now appeared on her face where I'd
struck her.  She didn't scream, or let out any sound whatsoever.  Tears welled
up in her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and kept silent.  

"Well, now that we've established I can do whatever I like to you and there's
nothing you can do to stop it," I said, "I think it's time you were properly
dressed for your new role."  

I clapped and placed my palm in the center of her chest.  Sloth's clothes
deconstructed, vanishing in the blue light of my transmutation.  She was now
hanging from her wrists, naked, in the perfect prison for her.  

I walked around her body and paused to grope her butt.  Sloth squirmed away as
best she could, but her range of movement was limited by her chains.  Getting
naked myself, I groped Sloth's hips and pushed my erect penis between her butt
cheeks.  

"Stop it!" begged Sloth as she struggled and squirmed as hard as she could. 
"Don't do that!  Stop it!  No!"  

"You don't get to tell me what to do," I whispered in her ear, and then I
forced my penis up her ass.  She screamed in anger, in humiliation, and in pain
as I took her without her being able to do anything to stop me.  

I groped her chest while I continued to fuck her ass.  Her nipples were hard,
and she was panting with the exertion.  Gasps and pants started coming in time
with my thrusts, and I came inside Sloth's butt.  

I pulled it out and strolled around her so I could look her in the eye.  "I
like it when you struggle," I told her.  "Your ass feels so good when you're
fighting me and trying to get me out."  

Tears were now flowing down her cheeks, and she was sobbing openly.  I started
fingering her smooth, hairless pussy.  Her body was so small, and so
vulnerable, stripped of her supernatural advantages.  I stuck the fingers I'd
been probing Sloth's pussy with into her mouth to get her attention.  

She'd been feigning helpless submission while I fingered her, just waiting for
her oportunity to hurt me.  She bit down, but found the Ultimate Shield
protected my fingers.  She'd let me play with her pussy and make her taste her
own juices without a fight for nothing.  

She cracked a tooth on my finger.  Blood was dribbling out of her mouth.  I
grabbed her legs, forced them open, and began raping her vaginally.  I didn't
wait for her to lubricate, or to let her relax her muscles and accept my
penis.  I just penetrated her as hard as I could as fast as I could.  

Sloth screamed as I made my initial penetration, and with each subsequent
thrust, she choked out a single, pleading word.  "No!"  "Please!"  "Stop!"  I
moderated m pace so I could keep hearing her beg.  

I put a hand on her back, touching her oroboros tattoo and she fell silent. 
Every muscle in her body tensed as she froze in terror.  I traced the design of
the winged serpent with my finger as I continued to pump my penis in and out of
her clenched tight vagina.  

"I can't rewrite you for now," I grunted between thrusts.  "Your occlumency
would protect you."  Another firm thrust into a vagina that was barely wide
enough to accommodate me when she wanted me inside.  "But once I rape you and
torture you long enough, those barriers will break."  She orgasmed.  Her
involuntary vaginal contractions felt wonderful as her eyes widened in terror
and tears of shame welled up in them.  

"After I break you," I grunted as I kept up my steady pace through her orgasm,
as though I didn't notice or care that it had happened.  "I'll make you like
the house elves."  Another rough thrust into her orgasming body.  "You'll still
hate every minute, but you'll have to do any perverted thing I tell you to, for
the rest of eternity."  

I was almost there.  I'd had to adjust my pace so I could finish delivering my
evil speech.  Now that it was done, I fell silent and humped her harder and
faster than before. Then I heard Sloth hoarsely choke out a word.  

"Quill."  

I sprang away from her like I'd touched a hot stove.  In one motion, I was
halfway across the room.  I clapped, and the manacles opened and the sealing
array went dark.  Sloth didn't take advantage of having her powers back
immediately.  Instead, she crawled toward me, trailing blood and semen.  She
reached up to me, and I dropped down to her level and hugged her, careful to
avoid touching her oroboros.  

"Are you alright?" I asked.  

"I'm okay," she said unsteadily.  "I just... I just needed to know you'd stop. 
I really couldn't get out no matter what I tried.  If you'd wanted to, you
really could've done what you said."  

"I'd never want to do that, or anything else, to hurt you," I said.  "I just
said that as part of the scene."  

"I know you wouldn't, Greed," said Sloth.  "I do trust you.  It's just..."  

"You used your safe word when things got too intense for you," I said.  "That's
what it's there for.  You aren't saying you don't trust me when you use it,
okay.  If you didn't use it when you needed to because you thought I'd react
badly, that would be you saying you don't trust me."  

She smiled at me though the injuries I'd inflicted on her as her breathing
steadied and she calmed down.  "I just needed to know you'd stop," she said. 
"You didn't go too far.  What you said got me off unbelievably.  Don't feel
like you shouldn't go that far again.  Now that I know the safe word works, I
think I'll be fine."  

"I'm glad you're okay," I said, rubbing her back.  She relaxed as my hand
brushed her oroboros mark.  She'd felt my hesitation, and now we were both sure
neither of us had hurt one another, at least not emotionally, where it
mattered.  

"You didn't cum yet," noted Sloth, glancing down at my erection.  "It looks
like you didn't have much farther to go when I stopped the action.  You can
string me back up if you want, but that seems like a lot of trouble to go
through as far along as you are.  Why don't I just finish you off with my mouth
instead?"  

I nodded my assent and Sloth pounced on my erection.  Her thoroughly violated
ass stuck up in the air as she gripped my penis with both hands and shoved the
head of my penis into her still bleeding mouth.  Eager lips sealed around a
penis almost too big to fit and Sloth's tongue worked around the head which had
been bumping up against her cervix not that long ago.  

She was right about me not having much farther to go, and I was cumming in my
lover's mouth before she'd really found her rhythm.  Sloth eagerly swallowing
my cum like nothing had happened banished the last trace of doubt in my mind,
and I gripped her by the back of her head and held her in place as I ejaculated
three times as much into her mouth as I'd pumped up her ass earlier.  When I
was satisfied, I let her go and she sat up, facing me.  

"As fun as this all was, the props are a bit elaborate to use very often," I
said, clapping my hands and removing the array from the walls.  The chains
transmuted back into a metal card table and set of folding chairs.  "Plus, we
don't want our enemies learning how to imprison us."  

"True," she said, shuddering at the thought.  "Still, best Valentine's day date
yet."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Trust is an important aspect of this kind of bondage scene.  Neither one wants
to hurt the other, and this gives them a chance to reaffirm that. 
***** The War Begins *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 52) The War Begins
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Harry's interview for the Quibbler was printed the same day as news of Lucius
Malfoy's arrest for using the unforgivable Imperius curse on a Ministry
official came in.  It was a solid one two punch for those who doubted Harry's
version of events.  The Daily Prophet asserted that Malfoy was acting alone,
but the revelation that an ex Death Eater had been able to get to someone as
close to Fudge as Percy shook people's faith in the Ministry's story, as
evidenced by the avalanche of letter Harry was sent the same day the story came
out.  

The next morning, Harry wasn't at breakfast.  Checking in with Ron, I verified
nothing had happened to him.  He'd gone to see Snape about having another
vision from Voldemort.  Apparently, Voldemort had been given some bad
information about how to get the weapon the Order of the Phoenix was guarding. 
Now, he was back on track.  All this information added up to whatever Voldemort
was after being in the Department of Mysteries in the lower level of the
Ministry of Magic, near the archway Sloth and I had used to enter this world.  

According to Snape, the Order already had all the relevant information Harry's
vision had contained.  Snape further emphasized that Harry needed to refrain
from attempting to penetrate Voldemort's mind until he was much farther along
in his legilimency.  He obviously thought Harry had sought the vision out
rather than it coming unbidden.  

Based on information Sirius and Percy were reporting, Fudge was feeling backed
into a corner.  Evidence and popular opinion were tipping more and more in
favor of Harry, but with a months long smear campaign, Fudge was too committed
to his original story.  I just hoped he was quietly preparing for war.  

Sirius used Lucius Malfoy's arrest as an excuse to discuss the Death Eater
trials after the last war, and how Lucius Malfoy had gotten off by claiming to
have been put under the Imperius curse himself.  This proceeded to what Lucius
Malfoy had actually done during the last war.  

As April came around, the DA was now working on the patronus charm.  Lupin had
said this was advanced magic of a sort that most qualified wizards couldn't
perform.  Harry was busy proving that you could teach it to an informal motley
of dedicated misfits if you had the right knack for teaching.  A number of full
body patronuses were floating around the room by the end of the first lesson. 
After using the Marauder's Map to guide everyone else safely back to their
dorms, Harry turned and talked to me and Sloth.  

"Why weren't either of you practicing with the others today?" he asked.  

Sloth and I looked at each other confused.  Then I said, "We're not wizards,
Harry.  You know that."  

"That didn't stop you from practicing the disarming charm, the shield charm,
the stunning spell, the reductor curse, the impediment jinx..."   

"All those are spells we can emulate with alchemy," I said.  

"Find a way to emulate this one with alchemy, then," insisted Harry.  "Everyone
else was at least getting a silver vapor.  It'll hurt their confidence if
anyone outright fails."  

"It's not about confidence," I said.  "Our powers plain don't work the same way
yours do."  

"We've been really lucky so far," said Sloth.  "A lot of spells can be
duplicated if we're really clever, but all we can do with a patronus charm is
make those pins based on the theory behind the spell."  

"If you can make the pins," said Harry, "and you can project glowing images
with those spy bugs, and you can make solid planes of force with your shield
charm, what's stopping you from putting all those pieces together?"  

I opened my mouth, then closed it.  It would take a lot of work, and a lot of
trial and error would be involved, but what Harry was saying wasn't as
unreasonable as I first thought.  

"Greed?" asked Sloth.  

"I'll try to have something by our next meeting," I promised.  

                                     * * *


My first attempt yielded a glowing blue image of Loki, composed of alchemically
suspended air that I could manipulate like a puppet.  It would probably trick
my fellow DA members, but it would be no real protection against a dementor. 
For that, it would need a consciousness, a spirit, akin to what I put in my
patronus pin, but capable of controlling a body of light as though it were just
one of my chessmen.  

After a solid week of all nighters, and a notebook filled with my observations,
theories, partial successes, and failures, I finally succeeded in producing a
short lived, conscious, mobile projection.  My result expended red stone energy
imbuing the construct with consciousness with the knowledge of how to fight,
the will to protected, and utterly incapable of despair.  

I was eager to show off my new technique, so when Harry approached me, I didn't
notice at first how worried and ill he looked.  Instead, I just happily hissed
to him that I'd done it, and I hoped we were having another DA meeting soon.  

"That's great, Greed, really," said Harry, distractedly.  "I've got a question
about that recorder I've been carrying around to my legilimency lessons.  Is
there a way to erase a lesson from it?"  

"Yeah," I said.  "You just tell it to.  Why?  What happened?"  

"I... I saw something personal of Snape's, and I don't want it spread around."
 

"It doesn't record what goes on in your heads," I said.  "It only records what
it can see and hear."  

"It wasn't in Snape's head when I saw it," said Harry.  "It was in a pensive."
 

I didn't press Harry for details on what he had seen.  I just demonstrated how
to erase the information.  I did ask for details about the pensive itself. 
Apparently, it was a bowl that wizards could put their memories in to look them
over.  You use your wand to pluck the memories out of your head and you drop it
in the bowl.  You can apparently fall into the bowl and experience the memory
like you were there, but as a ghostly presence unable to interact with anything
or anyone.  

Harry left, on his way to the defense professor's office.  He wanted to talk to
Sirius about what he'd seen.  The next time I saw Harry, he looked a lot
better.  

"I've had a talk with my dad," he said when I commented on it.  "I convinced
him to talk to Snape about some stuff that happened when they were in school. 
He didn't get a chance to apologize to him before he died."  

"Your dad was here?" I asked, surprised.  

"No.  Sirius let me borrow his two way communication mirror."  

"His what?" I asked.  

Harry took out a small, handheld mirror and showed it to me.  "It's one of a
linked pair.  I just say my dad's name, and I appear in his mirror and he
appears in this one, and we can talk."  

My eyes went wide.  "Harry, that's amazing.  I didn't even know things like
that existed."  

"I think they're like the Marauder's Map.  Something my dad and his friends
invented on their own."  

"I see..." I said.  "So, with all the warnings about the owls and fireplaces
not being secure, James and Sirius have been sitting on the magical equivalent
of a cell phone this entire time!  The Dark Lord nearly won the last war
because his side had pagers when the rest of the world was suck with messenger
birds, and something like this has been an option!"  

"We should get Sirius to make more," said Harry, picking up my conversation
thread.  "Load the DA up with them.  The Order too now that I think of it."  

It turned out the two way mirrors were literally two way.  Each mirror was part
of a linked pair and could only ever contact the other mirror in the set. 
Hermione drew up a phone chain so we could distribute information to all the DA
members with each of us having to carry only three mirrors each.  Far more
conspicuous than the coins, we had to be careful not to let Filch catch us with
one.  

My first use of mine was to call Sloth and give her the details of my psudo-
patronus when we were both in our separate common rooms.  

                                     * * *


Following the Easter holidays, I had a meeting with Professor Flitwick to talk
about my options for a career after Hogwarts.  I had so much I'd have to do
when I got back to Amestris, it was hard to decide where to start, or what to
set as my priorities.  Being immortal meant I'd get it all done eventually, but
figuring out the most efficient way to do it would benefit from advice.  

"Marcus, have a seat," indicated Professor Flitwick.  Pamphlets were scattered
all over his desk, each containing details about a different wizarding career. 
There were so many of them, none of which anyone in Amestris was currently
qualified to do.  

"Hello, Professor.  We have a lot to talk about."  

"I see you've been giving this career advice meeting some thought.  That's
good.  So, what ideas did you want to go over?"  

"You remember that I came from a country called Amestris where there aren't any
magic schools?"  He nodded and I continued.  "The truth is, we don't have any
magical infrastructure at all.  No herbologists tending magical plants, no wand
makers, no broomstick makers, nothing.  I want to change all that, and it seems
to me my best place to start is with a school."  

"You want to start your own magic school?" asked Professor Flitwick.  

I nodded.  "Even alchemy isn't studied in a formal, public institution like
Hogwarts back home.  It's horded in secretive master, apprentice relationships
and studied on one's own from textbooks.  A school like Hogwarts could change
everything."  

"Well, that's a new one," said Professor Flitwick.  "Plenty of students have
told me they want to teach, but founding a school is a little different.  From
what you say, your school will be limited to what you learn at Hogwarts, at
least until magical theorists can be trained up locally, so you're going to
want to focus heavily on your core classes of Charms, Transfiguration, Potions,
and Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Do you know if your world has the same
stars?"  

"No," I admitted.  

"Then you probably won't need to move on to NEWT level Astronomy, since there's
a reasonable chance what you study won't be particularly relevant.  The same is
true for your History of Magic.  

"Herbology is a must, especially since it sounds like you'll be needing to
import all your seeds and grow them to a reasonable supply before you can
really get started with your potions work.  

"Runes and Arithmancy are good for theoretical work, and a solid grounding
there might help you fill in gaps in your other subjects once you've got your
first few classes out the door.  

"Care of Magical Creatures will be more important than you might think.  With
no established wand makers, and no real idea which kinds of creatures are
unknown but present in your world, you'll want as broad a grounding as you can
get.  Otherwise, you'll find yourself without access to materials for wand
cores, which will make teaching everything else so much harder.  

"You'll have to decide for yourself how much Muggle Studies will help, given
you'll be teaching nothing but muggleborn students.  I suppose that will depend
on if there are any useful muggle ideas where that you want to bring back.  

"Now, as far as Divination, true Seers are rare, and their abilities usually
manifest in a useful form without much prompting.  Headmaster Dumbledore's
frequently considered dropping the subject from the Hogwarts curriculum.  I
know you're fond of the subject, but it might be wise to focus your efforts
elsewhere in your NEWT years."  

"That gives me a lot to think about.  I suppose I'll need to buy up a lot of
wands to hold me over until I can find a good local source for magical
creatures.  I knew I was going to need to bring a lot of seeds.  I guess a lot
of what I'll be able to teach depends on my OWLs, since I know I need certain
scores to get into NEWT classes."  

"Your grades have been consistently excellent.  Study hard and keep up with
your homework, and I expect you'll have your choice of NEWT classes."  

                                     * * *


The time for homework was over.  Now that the OWLs were nearly upon us, all the
fifth years were focused on studying and review.  I spent almost half my study
hours under the influence of a wit sharpening potion, though in the real exam
I'd have to rely on my own skill and memory.  All my attempts to divine what
sort of questions I'd be dealing with kept giving me warnings about severe
violence and impending death.  

I did my studying with Sloth, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville.  Between us,
we had stacks of notes enough to cover one of the large tables in the library. 
The alchemists among us used red stones to absorb one another's notes in the
hopes that something we missed in our own notes would be covered in the other
person's.  

Finally, the examiners arrived.  They were an independent academic group
largely above and unconcerned with Ministry politics.  Neville'd met some of
them before through his grandmother.  The only real read on them I could get
was that they were old.  Old enough to have been doing this same job back when
Dumbledore was taking his NEWTs.  He was extremely deferential and polite
welcoming them in.  

The exams themselves were a grueling two week marathon of written and practical
tests covering the full dozen subjects taught at Hogwarts.  I didn't sleep at
all except the night before the Divination test, in case dream interpretation
came up.  The extra time all went to study and review.  

I felt completely confident on the written portions of my exams, but the
practicals loomed large each time.  I mimicked the effects requested
flawlessly, and I felt confident I'd gotten the incantation pronunciation and
wand movements right after relentless drilling on them, but in the back of my
head, there was the worry that the examiners would take issue with my using
alchemy rather than magic.  

Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense were all the first week, so I could
breathe a sigh of relief they were over.  Now, nothing more that required a
wand would be coming, and no one had openly called me a fraud.  I wouldn't know
how they actually felt until the exam results came in.  Still, I was determined
to get as many OWLs as I could, so after treating myself with some chocolate, I
got back to studying.  

In the Divination practical, I saw a worrying vision of the head table, empty
except for Umbridge in my crystal ball.  The tea leaves were less clear, still
suggesting a coming disaster.  Palm reading one of the ancient proctors
indicated that she would yet live to see the old order toppled and a new one
put in its place.  

Finally, it was our last exam, History of Magic.  It was practically an
independent study anyway, with Binns' teaching style, but I'd made good use of
my time in his classroom over the years, and I knew the material, even if it
didn't particularly interest me.  I was reading over my completed answers when
a few desks over, Harry screamed and fell off his desk.  I was on my feet in an
instant, but the exam proctor ordered me back to my seat and assured me he'd
make sure Harry was alright.  

I wrapped my hands around my DA coin while I tried to get back to reading my
exam answers.  If Harry needed us, he'd use his coin to send us a signal. 
Finally, it was quills down, and the OWLs were over.  

                                     * * *


"Harry's in trouble," said a fourth year, Slytherin DA member urgently when I
got out of the examination.  "Umbridge has him.  The real Umbridge."  

"Explain later, rescue now," I said once I'd processed that.  "Grab whoever
else you can find."  

A small group of DA members converged on Umbridge's office, called in by word
of mouth and by use of the communication mirrors.   There we found Umbridge
standing over Harry menacingly while he was tied to a chair.  Draco, Crabbe,
and Goyle were covering Harry with wands, all looking very smug.  

Disarming and stunning spells filled the room as our small army burst in. 
Harry was the only one in the room awake when we closed the door a few seconds
later.  Neville used his alchemic sword to cut Harry loose from the ropes.  

"What happened?" asked Ron.  

"Sirius is in trouble," gasped Harry urgently.  

"Sirius Black?" asked one of the Hufflepuffs, alarmed.  

"Long story.  He's on our side," said Sloth.  

"Well, Draco figured out he'd been impersonating Umbridge since Christmas,"
said the Slytherin who'd alerted us.  "He let her loose just before the History
of Magic exam.  She called for backup and the Aurors came to arrest him. 
They've also taken the rest of the staff in for questioning."  

"The Ministry doesn't have Sirius anymore!" exclaimed Harry with a panicked
edge.  "Tom does.  He's torturing him in the Department of Mysteries to make
him get the weapon for him!"  

"How did he get him away from the Aurors?" asked Hermione.  

"I don't know," said Harry.  "All I know is what I saw."  

"How are we going to get there?" asked Luna.  

"There's a fireplace right there," I said, pointing.  "I know the Ministry's
connected to the Floo Network."   

"We'll be a long time getting us all through that," said one of the Ravenclaw
DA members.  

"We aren't all going," said Harry.  "This is Tom we're talking about."  

"You're not going without backup," I insisted.  

"We've fought him before," said Neville, steeling up his nerve.  

"Someone has to stay and guard them," said one of the Slytherins, pointing at
"Umbridge, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle on the ground.  

"Okay," said Harry, thinking quickly through his rising panic.  "Everyone who's
fought him before, with me.  Everyone else, guard Umbridge and watch your
communication mirrors.  If we need you, be ready to come after us."  

Floo powder flared, and soon, the eight of us arrived in the Ministry of
Magic.  (Ginny had counted her efforts to flush Riddle's diary down the toilet
as having fought him and we were in too big a hurry to argue.  Especially with
her jinxing skills likely to come in handy.)  The Statue of Magical
Brotherhood, a fountain made of gold, depicting life sized figures of a witch,
wizard, goblin, house elf, and centaur stood in the center of the entry hall. 
Security was absent.  

No time to worry about how Voldemort had cleared away the security for his
trip, we followed Harry to the lift and headed down.  The door opened into a
black corridor I hadn't seen for years.  Harry led the way, having seen the
route Voldemort took in previous visions.  The eight of us passed through the
door at the end of the hall and entered a round room lit by blue flamed candles
with identical handleless doors in every direction.  

When the door we came in closed, the walls of the room spun about at high
speed.  When they stopped, there was no obvious way to know which door we'd
come in.  It was the same spell that I'd run into in the Triwizard Tournament
maze last year, but this time, I had no stars to use to orient myself.  

With no better options, we'd have to open doors randomly to see what was
inside, and if it was the place from Harry's vision.  Hermione marked thee
doors as we tried them, so we'd know which doors we'd already checked after the
room spun again.  I identified the viel Sloth and I had used when we entered
this world when one of the doors opened to that room.   Ron held up his silver
left fist to emphasize the dangers of approaching it.  

Finally, we found the room from Harry's vision.  As he led us toward a door on
the far size of the room, I noticed a cabinet filled with hourglasses amid the
numerous clocks and unidentifiable lab equipment.  Those hourglasses, I
recognized.  This was where the Ministry of Magic stored their time turners.  

"Acio," I muttered, flicking my wand toward the glass cabinet.  The front door
swung open and one of the time turners flew across the room into my hand.  

"What are you doing?" demanded Hermione.  

"Stealing a time turner," I said without breaking stride.  "We declared war on
the Ministry when we attacked Umbridge.  I'm through worrying about Fudge or
his laws and decrees."  

"Acio," said Sloth, snatching a second time turner.  "These made rescuing
Sirius possible last time."  

"They've got a point, Hermione," said Ron.  

After a moment's hesitation, "Acio," was called out once more and six time
turners flew into six waiting hands.  They were quickly pocketed and the door
Harry led us to was opened.  

The next room was where Harry had seen Sirius being tortured by Voldemort. 
Wands out, our party crept silently along one side of the enormous room.  It
had high, vaulted ceilings and was lit by more candles with cold burning
bluebell flames.  Shelves reached nearly to the high ceiling, and on each shelf
was a small glass orb.  Some orbs shone with a silvery light from a mist
swirling within, others were dark, grey, and still.  

When we reached the right row, Sirius was nowhere to be found.  We searched up
and down the row and its immediate neighbors.  They couldn't have gone far. 
We'd gotten here very quickly after Harry's vision.  Ron called us back to the
spot Harry had directed us to and pointed at one of the glowing orbs.  

"It's got your name on it, Harry," said Ron.  

"My name?" asked Harry.  

Indeed, the label on the orb Ron indicated read, "S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D  Dark
Lord and (?) Harry Potter."  

Ron quickly confirmed none of the rest of our names were nearby.  After a long
moment's hesitation, Harry took down the orb and stared into it.  Suddenly, a
dozen masked Death Eaters emerged from behind invisibility spells.  They
must've been waiting there the whole time.  It was a trap.  A woman's voice
spoke.  

"Hand over the prophecy."  

"Where's Sirius?" demanded Harry.  

The Death Eater threw back her head and laughed.  The others chortled along
with her while they continued to cover us with their wands.  "The Dark Lord
always knows!" she thrilled.  

"Pick your targets," I hissed in a low parseltongue whisper.  

"Wait for my signal," added Harry in an equally low hiss.  

"The one doing the talking," called Neville.  Even in the low volume snake
speech, I detected a hard edge I'd never heard from him before.  

The rest of us mapped out our targets in low parseltongue whispers while Harry
kept them talking.  If they did have Sirius, it would be good to know where he
was now rather than needing to keep one of them alive for Harry to attempt
legilimency on.  Thankfully, our adventures in second year had taught us that
parseltongue was hard to pick out from background noise if you didn't know the
language, which let us prepare for Harry's signal.  

"I want to know where Sirius is!" demanded Harry.  

"I want to know where Sirius is!" mocked the woman, to another brief chorus of
chuckles.  

"You've got him.  He's here.  I know he is," said Harry, controlling his voice.
 

"The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo," mocked
the woman using faux baby talk.  

"Don't forget to leave their wands intact," hissed Hermione.  

"He isn't here," said Harry, dispirited.  "He sent me that vision on purpose,
didn't he?"  

"That's right," said the woman, and I could hear the smirk despite her feature
obscuring mask.  "Now, hand over the prophecy, or should I start torturing your
little friends one by-"  

"NOW!" yelled Harry, and everyone sprang into action at once.  

Neville showed off his newly acquired animagus transformation for the first
time.  Leaping at the woman, he turned into a lion in midair.  His weight
coming down on her, forcing her to the ground, Neville closed his jaws around
the back of her neck with a sickening crunch of splintering bone.  

In the same instant, Sloth and I raised shields with the bracelets on our left
wrists to block attacks from most of the Death Eaters against our group.  With
her right hand, Sloth fired a bolt of blue light from her wand emulating a
stunning spell, which knocked the Death Eater unconscious.  

I ignored my wand, which the Death Eaters were used to focusing on in a duel. 
Instead, I stomped my foot and snapped the fingers on my left hand.  A stone
spike fatally impaled one of the Death Eaters, and a second's chest exploded
messily as explosive gas ignited in his lungs.  

Hermione fired a stunning spell that took down her opponent, while Luna fired
off a disarming spell so strong her target was hurled into a shelf behind him. 
His head hit the sturdy wood shelf and he was out cold.  

Ron dropped to his knees, clapping and putting up a shield spell with his wand
to protect from another group of Death Eaters.  Slapping his free palm on the
ground, he transmuted a chunk of the floor like I had.  Instead of spikes, he
caused stone hands to reach up and pin down his target.  

Black bat wings erupted from the nostrils of the Death Eater Ginny had hexed,
flapping in his face and causing him to drop his wand as he grabbed at his face
screaming.  

Four spells hit the shields we had conjured as the remaining Death Eaters
reacted to the fact that they were under attack.  With two thirds of their
number out of the fighting, and a bloody faced lion turning its gaze on them,
the Death Eaters fled.  We gave chase, with Harry lagging behind at the rear
after pausing to stun the Death Eaters who were out of the fighting but still
conscious.  

Neville, Sloth, and I were faster than the others and were able to outpace the
Death Eaters, catching up to them as they arrived in the room containing the
unknown lab equipment and the time turners.  

"Adava-" began one of the Death Eaters, but he was silenced by a lion crushing
his throat before he could finish the curse.  Another managed to get off a
stunning hex that finally put Neville down.  

Sloth dropped through the floor, out of sight, popping up within arm's reach of
the Death Eater who'd stunned Neville.  She reached into his chest and squeezed
his heart.  He was dead by the time he hit the ground.  

I launched a bolt of blue light from my wand and hit a fleeing Death Eater in
the back.  Motes of blue alchemic light floated from his collapsing body back
to my wand and gathered around the red stone at the tip.  Absorbing the motes
of light, the crystal's rough hewn edges turned smooth and glassy.  His life
force reinforced and strengthened the power of my red stone.  

The others arrived at that point, and five red stunning hexes hit the sole
remaining Death Eater.  His unconscious form was hurled backward by the force
of the spells, smashing into the glass cabinet of time turners.  Suddenly, his
momentum reversed, and he flew away from the cabinet, which unsmashed itself. 
He stopped in midair for a split second, then hurled into the cabinet again. 
He was stuck in a constantly repeating loop.  

"Okay, smashing time turners is bad," I commented.  

"Is Neville okay?" asked Harry.  

"Just stunned," said Sloth.  

"I've got the wands," reported Luna happily, holding up the bundle she'd
gathered before summoning the remaining ones on the floor.  

"That was a lot quicker than I thought it'd be," said Ron.  

"Real battles usually are," I said.  

"What do we do with the stunned ones back there?" asked Hermione.  

"Leave them," said Harry.  "The Ministry can interrogate them and finally
figure out Tom's back."  

"I'd better go back and make sure they stay restrained when they wake up," said
Ron, running through the door.  

"Meanwhile, we'd best get back to Hogwarts," said Ginny.  "We still need to
find the exit."  

No sooner had Ginny said that than a door opened, revealing the corridor we
entered through.  Apparently one aspect of the security was making sure the
only door you could find easily was the way out.  Ron caught up with us,
reporting he'd transmuted stone bindings on to all the surviving Death Eaters
except the one stuck in the loop.  He didn't dare approach him, deciding to let
the Ministry's experts figure out how to safely retrieve him.  

With no further leads on Sirius or the other teachers, we took the lift back up
to the entry hall.  Neville was back on his feet and in human form.  Hermione
had revived him using an "ennervate" spell to counter the stun.  He was wiping
the blood off his face with a sleeve of his robe.  The elevator doors opened
and we stepped into the atrium.  

"Adava Kedavra!"  

No one was on their guard when the green bolt of the killing curse flew at us
from one side.  Her speed still enhanced by a Philosopher's Stone, Sloth was
barely able to interpose her body in time.  As she got back to her feet, blue
sparks dancing along her body as she regenerated, we turned toward the source
of the spell.  With his flattened, noseless face and red slitted eyes, Lord
Voldemort had come to do personally what his Death Eaters could not.  

"They all just throw themselves into certain death for you, don't they,
Potter?" said Voldemort.  

I snapped my fingers, and the air that would have been contained in his lungs
flared brightly for an instant.  Voldermort had dodged the flame alchemy attack
that had killed his subordinate by apparating across the room.  Six wands
launched disarming spells, stunning spells, blasting crses, and body binds at
the Dark Lord.  He batted them aside with a gesture before firing another
killing curse into our midst.  

"Avis!" called out Sloth, creating a dozen tiny birds.  The killing curse
struck a bird, which dropped dead.  "Unblockable my ass!"  

Voldemort sent a wave of fire twoard us in response, incinerating the birds.  I
stomped and transmuted a wall for cover.  The flames broke upon the wall, with
jets of flame briefly visible around either side of the wall.  

"Take care of my prophecy, Potter," said Voldemort.  "It will be amusing to
review it once I pluck it from your cold, dead hands."  He apparated to this
side of my wall and shot another bright green killing curse at us.  

We scattered in all directions, but the curse ricocheted off the wall, and
struck me in the back.  Several new flocks of birds had been summoned by the
time I'd regenerated back to life, and were fluttering every which way,
obscuring the battlefield in a mess of feathers.  I'd learned something.  Not
only could you block a killing curse by conjuring something to take the hit for
you, but it could be blocked by a transmuted wall.  Not the unstoppable super
weapon it was claimed to be.  

Harry, Ginny, and Luna had adopted their animagus forms and attempted to lose
Voldemort in the flock of conjured birds.  Ron and Sloth were clapping and
transmuting spikes from the floor beneath Voldemort's feet, which Voldemort
dodged using apparition.  Neville was standing protectively over Hermione, his
wand brandished while she was crouched down near my transmuted wall, fumbling
with her time turner.  

I snapped, burning away the oxygen in the path of Voldemort's conjured flames,
so he couldn't burn the birds away again.  Hermione vanished, escaping into the
past.  At the same instant, the lift opened and she returned on it.  She'd
brought Dumbledore, the teachers Umbridge had brought in for questioning, and
Minister Fudge with her.  Seeing our backup, Voldemort didn't reappear the next
time he disapparated.  

Harry, Ginny, and Luna separated themselves from the flock and resumed human
form alongside the rest of us.  Hermione stepped away from Dumbledore and
Fudge, turning to face them side by side with us.  Dumbledore turned to Fudge
who was stuttering in shock and outrage.  

"I trust the evidence of your own eyes is sufficient, Cornelius," said
Dumbledore as the teachers got to vanishing the thousand birds we'd conjured.  

"Merlin's beard!  Him!  Here!  Here!  In the Ministry of Magic!" palpitated
Fudge.  

"Half a dozen Death Eaters are down in the Department of Mysteries who can give
you details," said Harry dryly.  

"And you!" exclaimed Fudge, rounding on Harry.  "You and your friends! 
Unregistered animagi, all of you!"  

"You'll find I am registered," huffed Hermione.  

"Cornelius, they have just now been dueling with Lord Voldemort," noted
Dumbledore.  "If you cannot see the wisdom in pardoning any rule breaking that
may be involved here on the grounds of obviously being on the same side, I
invite you to consider whether you have any Aurors in your employ able to take
them in."  

"I- Well- Obviously," said Fudge.  

"My staff, students, and I shall be returning to Hogwarts now," said
Dumbledore.  "I suggest you dispatch Aurors to the Department of Mysteries at
once.  Oh yes, you will also kindly remove Dolores Umbridge from my school and
return Sirius Black with a full pardon."  

"Release Black?" demanded Fudge.  

"Harry has already told you Black was not the one responsible for the Potters'
deaths.  If you insist on calling Harry a liar again, I shall need to
personally make a trip to Azkaban and remove him from the dementors myself." 
There was a hard edge to Dumbledore's voice that even Fudge couldn't miss.  

Dumbledore returned us to Hogwarts through the floo network, and dispatched the
faculty to restore order.  He directed the eight of us to join him up in his
office.  Once there, he took a communication mirror out of a desk drawer.  

"James," he said into it.  "Cornelius will be pardoning Sirius.  It looks as
though the raid on Azkaban will not be necessary."  

"Smart of him," said James Potter's voice from the mirror.  "I'll tell Lily and
Moony."  

Setting down the mirror, Dumbledore returned his attention to us.  "I suppose
now is the time for explanations.  Am I to presume it has been your shape
shifting dog which has been attending Order meetings since Christmas?"  

I nodded.  

"And you, Harry, who have organized a portion of the student body into a
fighting force willing to defy the Ministry?"  

"I had to do something," said Harry.  

"That was not a criticism," said Dumbledore, smiling.  "The truth of the matter
is, you students accomplished far more of value this past year than I or the
Order have managed, and I think for that, at the very least, I owe you an
apology and explanation."  

"You've been guarding this," said Harry, holding out the glass orb.  

"If you will set it down on my desk, I shall show you the prize you have kept
from the enemy," offered Dumbledore.  

Harry did so, and Dumbledore tapped the orb with his wand.  A ghostly image of
Professor Trelawney appeared and spoke.  "The one with the power to vanquish
the Dark Lord approaches.  Born to those who have thrice defied him.  Born as
the seventh month dies.  And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he
will have power the Dark Lord knows not.  And either must die at the hand of
the toher, for neither can live while the other survives.  The one with the
power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."  

Professor Trelawney's face vanished behind the glowing silver mist once again. 
Dumbledore explained that he had been present when Trelawney made that
prophecy, as had been one of Voldemort's agents.  The agent had heard only part
of the prophecy, and it was on that information that he sought out the Potters
to kill Harry.  

"If you already knew what was in there," said Sloth, "why did you waste people
guarding it?  Why not just smash it and free up people to go on other
missions?"  

Dumbledore opened his mouth then closed it again.  "Would you believe, the
thought never occurred to me?"  

"So, it has to be me," said Harry, only now mustering the ability to speak
after the explanation.  "Either I have to kill him, or he kills me."  

"Yes," said Dumbledore sadly.  

"You won't be fighting alone," said Ron, to enthusiastic nods all around.  

"Okay," I said, "I'm going to get started using these wands to resurrect the
Death Eaters' past victims.  Now that the Ministry's got its head out of its
ass, hopefully they'll be able to resume their lives."   

"With Tom acting openly again, we should see about protecting everyone's muggle
relatives," said Sloth.  "We should move quickly while he recovers from the
loss of those Death Eaters.  Can the Grangers stay in the castle?"  

"He would go after my parents, wouldn't he," said Hermione.  "Headmaster,
please."  

"Wards can be established and protections assigned, Miss Granger," said
Dumbledore.  "Your family will be safe."  

"But doesn't it make more sense to gather up all the families of the muggleborn
students in one easily defended place than to assign each of them a wizard
bodyguard?" asked Hermione.  

"I can use the map so we're sure everyone we take in is who they're supposed to
be," offered Harry.  

"The castle does have plenty of unused space," acknowledged Dumbledore.  "Very
well.  I shall make the necessary arrangements to shelter everyone's muggle
family members in the school."  

"The Dursleys are still safe at Privet Drive, aren't they?" asked Harry.  

"There is no safer place from Voldemort as long as the blood wards remain in
effect," said Dumbledore.  

"Then I should go spend my one night there to keep Voldemort out," said Harry.
 

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
The Death Eaters were utterly incompetent during the battle in the Department
of Mysteries in canon.  Given the improved capabilities of the characters, this
could be nothing other than a slaughter. 
***** Two Sides of Immortality *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 53) Two Sides of Immortality
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


The remaining few days at Hogwarts were a flurry of activity.  Thanks to my
time turner, I was cranking out homunculi faster than I had in Liore.  Each of
the captured wands had been used to kill dozens of people, so hundreds of
homunculi were needed.  Ron handled the prior incantum and soul attachments
while Sloth and I made them bodies.  It depleted my red stone supply, but more
would be made over the summer.  

By the time the three of us emerged form the Chamber of Secrets for the end of
term feast, the story of our battle with Voldemort and the Death Eaters was
common knowledge.  Neville in particular was lauded for avenging his parents by
eating the torturers as a lion.  Sirius Black was now sitting openly at the
head table in the chair formerly occupied by Dolores Umbridge.  With their
animagus powers now revealed, our wizard friends were at an all time low in
terms of the number of secrets they had to keep.  Only the details of the DA
remained exclusively among members.  And no one was mentioning the stolen time
turners of course.  

Dumbledore made the offer to shelter people's muggle relations at Hogwarts
official, to general applause and gratitude.  I indulged in the astoundingly
satisfying food the house elves had prepared, grateful that I wouldn't need to
deprive myself next year in order to keep up with my studies.  The war was
about to being in earnest, but for the moment, everything seemed to be looking
up.  

On the train ride home, I produced a set of physically identical replicas of
my, Sloth's, and Ron's time turners.  I told Ron I'd explain once our OWL
results came in.  At King's Cross Station, James, Lily, Lupin, Moody, and Tonks
were waiting, with a big black dog on a leash.  

"Thanks for taking care of Loki for me," I said, clapping and kneeling down to
pet my dog.  Blue sparks crackled over his fur, as I restored his appearance
from a copy of Sirius' animagus form back to his brown furred normal form.  

"It was no trouble at all," said Lupin.  "He was a lot better behaved than
Sirius usually is."  

"We've been talking to Arthur and Molly," said Lily, indicating the Weasleys
who were nearby.  "They're planning to improve the Burrow's security and have
invited us to stay with them over the summer once they're finished.  I know you
aren't happy being cooped up in my sister's house, Harry."  

"Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," said Harry sincerely.  

"We're always delighted to have you, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley.  "And your
friends as well.  Mrs. Longbottom and the Grangers have already given
permission for Neville and Hermione to visit over the holiday."  

"Luna's going on a trip out of the country with her dad this summer," said
Ginny.  

"Maybe next year," said Arthur.  

                                     * * *


There were so many things I needed to do this summer that I would need to be in
three places at once to do them all.  Fortunately, now that I had my time
turner back, that was an option.  My first stop was Diagon Ally.  I knew the
shop I needed would be found somewhere, but it took a while to find.  

Finally, down Knockturn Alley, I found what I was looking for.  A goblin run
silversmith.  The goblin behind the counter narrowed his eyes suspiciously when
I came in.  He quickly brushed a piece of jewelry he was examining behind the
counter as I got close.  

"What do you want, wizard?" he asked gruffly.  

I set the three replica time turners on the counter and asked, "Can you make a
housing for these?"  

His eyes widened.  He recognized them immediately.  He forced a neutral
expression on his face, then replied, "What kind of housing?"  

"Well," I said, "I've been told that the goblins have a method of working with
silver that makes it indestructible.  Is that right?"  

"Of course it is," said the goblin proudly.  "You're looking to protect
these... objects by encasing them in goblin silver?"  

"Protect and disguise," I said genially.  "I'd like three silver pocket watches
made.  They need to be able to open up so the hourglass can be set in and
removed, and ideally, I'd like the gold chain on the hourglass to be able to
feed through a protective goblin silver chain length as well."  

"That's not a simple matter," noted the goblin, eyeing the hourglasses.  "You'd
need to leave the hourglasses here at the shop so I can form fit the housings
for each one.  I can definitely do it, though.  Once they're done, you'll be
able to bash a troll's skull in with them and not risk scratching,much less
cracking the glass."  

"A few more details, then," I said.  "Can you arrange the mountings to rotate
the hourglass inside the watch using the winder?"  

"I thought you might want something like that," noted the goblin, not taking
his eyes off the three fake time turners.  

"Glad to hear it," I said.  "I'd also like a mounting on the inside lid for a
mirror, and for each lid itself to have a house crest for a different Hogwarts
house.  A Ravenclaw eagle, an Hufflepuff badger, and a Gryffindor lion."  

"None of that should be a problem," said the goblin.  "Now, there is the matter
of payment, both for the craftsmanship and my silence..."  

"Money is no object," I told the goblin.  "Name any amount of gold you would
like,and I'll drop it off when I return to collect the watches."  

"One million galleons," said the goblin.  

"Done," I said without batting an eyelash.  

"Apiece," he added hastily after seeing how easily I agreed to his first offer.
 

"Agreed," I said just as easily.  "When can I pick up the merchandise?"  

"I can set aside some of my other projects and get it to you by the end of the
week," replied the goblin.  "That'd make it a rush order, and those cost
double."  

"I'll see you at the end of the week with your six million galleons," I told
him and walked out of the shop.  I knew I was being so overcharged it might as
well count as robbery, but as I could make as much gold as I wanted, it didn't
really matter to me.  Paying it would ensure the goblin's silence about the
time turners and demonstrate my trustworthiness.  

I produced the necessary quantity of gold after buying a few tons of scrap
metal from a muggle junk yard and had it converted to galleons at Gringotts. 
While I was at the goblin run bank, I had a note of transfer written up so I
wouldn't have to carry all that gold down to Knockturn Alley next week, and so
there would be no question about leprechaun gold being involved.  

While I was there, I restocked my supply of potions ingredients, then I used my
real time turner to return to Privet Drive before the others and set up a new
underground lab beneath my house, complete with animated armor servants to tend
to my crop of philosopher's flowers.  I also set up a new potions work space. 
Now that I had a human derived red stone, I wanted to see if I could adapt the
recipe for the Elixir of Life to work using one of those stones instead of a
true Philosopher's Stone.  I'd had five years of potions training since I'd
tried to make the Elixir of Life using a red stone, and it seemed time to give
it another try.  

Another turn of my time turner, and I was back at King's Cross and joined the
others returning to Privet Drive.  With Voldemort acting openly now, Harry
wouldn't be able to leave the protections of the blood wards until the new
security at the Burrow was ready.  As such, rather than Harry coming to visit
Sloth and I, we'd need to visit him at the Dursleys'.  We made plans to do so
daily.  

I lived each day several times that first week using my time turner.  The first
day was spent with Harry at the Dursleys, doing summer homework with him and
Sloth.  I learned that James wholeheartedly approved of our trick replacing
Umbridge with Sirius.  Lily was against it until she found out about the
woman's detentions involving carving lines into our own flesh with a cursed
quill.  At that point, she offered congratulations all around and swore to
murder the woman next time she saw her.  I offered her a soul coin to use so as
not to be wasteful.  

The second time I went through a day, I cloistered myself in my potions work
space attempting to solve the method to produce the Elixir of Life using a red
stone instead of a Philosopher's Stone.  By the end of the week, I confirmed
that adding a beozar neutralized the toxic properties of the red water in a
human derived red stone and produced an Elixir of Life.  It burned through the
stone quickly, though, requiring one life's worth of red stone to produce a
single dose.  I couldn't yet do it using stones produced by the Tringam method,
but I was sure there must be a way.  

My third trip each day, I spent at the muggle library.  This world's math,
science, and especially their computer and information technology all offered
so much that I wanted to bring back to my world.  So much information could be
stored on a single compact disk, I was awed.  I was practically giddy when I
learned I could assimilate the information on a CD the same way I could the
information in a book using a red stone.  

A regular topic of conversation with Harry and his family was, of course, the
war.  Now that the Death Eaters were acting openly, reports were coming
regularly of attacks, assassinations, and engineered disasters.  Pamphlets
about security were sent by owl, containing basic tips like how to spot someone
under the Imperius curse and suggesting people establish trust passwords in
case of polyjuice.  

By the time I returned to Diagon Alley to pickup my watches, the place was
nearly unrecognizable.  Wanted posters of known Death Eaters were in every
store window, and hucksters were hawking useless protective amulets from shady
stands along the street.  Knockturn Alley was almost completely deserted.  With
all the dark arts shops, the Ministry was presumably raiding it regularly. 
Fortunately for me, it was just the customers who weren't lingering and window
shopping.  The shops themselves were still open. I stepped inside the goblin
silversmith's shop I'd commissioned.  

"I have a note of transfer from Gringotts here," I said, "unless you'd rather I
start hauling large, obvious sacks of gold in here?"  

"Let me see that," snapped the goblin.  After examining the signatures, seals,
and other anti-counterfeiting measures carefully, he slowly nodded.  Reaching
below the counter, he produced three silver pocket watches.  

He proudly went over the features, demonstrated how to remove and replace the
hourglass, demonstrated the rotation mechanism, and invited me to try to damage
one.  I drew my wand and first attempted to deconstruct part of the material
with alchemy.  It had no effect.  Next I triggered an explosion in the internal
mechanisms, which didn't even disrupt its ability to keep proper time. 
Finally, I tried various blunt force traumas to see if the hourglass within
would crack.  Again, the product was just as advertised.

"Thank you for your excellent and speedy work," I said.  "I'll be sure to
recommend your services for future watch needs."  

While he watched, I removed the hourglass from the watch bearing the Ravelcaw
eagle and replaced my real time turner inside it.  The fake time turner, I
tossed in a rubbish bin on the way out.  I handed Sloth her watch, bearing the
Hufflepuff badger as soon as I got home.  We each cut our communication mirrors
down to fit and inserted them into our watches, completing the tool.  

                                     * * *


The next day, Sloth and I were surprised to see Professor Snape at our door. 
His muggle dress was more competent than most wizards, having managed a black
suit with a tailcoat and cravat which suited him nearly as well as his black
wizard robes.  He wore a deeply annoyed expression on his face.  

"Oren, Tucker," he jerked his head in acknowledgement.  "There are matters I
must discuss with Harry.  May I come on?"  

"Sure," I said, "but Harry's next door."  

"I realize," said Snape stepping inside and closing the door behind hm. 
Drawing his wand, he cast a number of defensive and privacy based spells before
continuing.  "As I am sure you are aware, I am a marked Death Eater, and cannot
cross the threshold next door.  You will need to bring Potter to me here."  

"No," said Sloth flatly.  "Harry stays behind those wards until the Burrow's
security is finished."  

"This is regarding the object in the Lestrange vault," said Snape.  "We may not
get another chance like this."   

I held up the Ministry's security pamphlet.  "How do we know you're really
Severus Snape?" I demanded.  Taking out my new watch I flipped it open and
checked the time.  "I suppose the first step is to wait an hour to rule out
polyjuice."  

"Polyjuice can last up to three hours with a large enough dose," snapped
Snape.  "One hour is the maximum reliable time, but overdoses mean you cannot
rely on that limit."  

"Obscure potions knowledge," noted Sloth.  "Evidence in favor of it really
being him."  

"So, we wait three hours to eliminate the polyjuice possibility," I said with a
nod.  

"You're enjoying this," noted Snape darkly.  

"Three hours should also be enough time to notice signs of the Imperius curse,"
I noted.  

"In the meantime, why don't you tell us what you want to see Harry for," said
Sloth.  

"As all evidence suggests he will tell you whatever I say anyway, I see no
point in attempting secrecy," said Snape.  "And it will pass the time."  

With the Lestranges dead and Lucius in Azkaban, Snape had been feeling out
Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius' wife and Draco's mother.  Snape had spent a lot of
time currying favor with the Malfoys over the years, and all that time building
trust was about to pay off.  Lucius had recently fallen out of Voldemort's
favor, as evidenced by the fact he had not been broken out of Azkaban.  

As further punishment for Lucius' failure, Draco had been branded a full Death
Eater, only to be handed the suicide mission of killing Dumbledore.  Snape
believed we could trade our services protecting Draco and his family from
Voldemort for the horcrux Belatrix had placed in her vault before her death.  

"Okay," said Sloth when he had finished, "what does this have to do with
Harry?"  

"Aside from the boy's access to a replenishing supply of basilisk venom that
would simplify destroying the horcrux when we have it," said Snape, "Narcissa
will need proof I am genuinely working against the Dark Lord, and not merely
testing her for disloyalty.  There will be no question if I show up with Harry
Potter at my side."  

"You want to take Harry alone into a known Death Eater stronghold?" I asked
incredulously.  

"Wouldn't showing up with Dumbledore be just as effective?" asked Sloth.  

"It would indeed," said Snape, "if I could find him.  The Headmaster has taken
to going on long trips without notifying the Order where he's going or what
he's doing."  

"Don't you have any way of contacting him?" I asked.  

"He leaves his communication mirrors in his office," said Snape, aggravatedly. 
"The Order can send secure messages using patronuses, but if whatever the
Headmaster is doing requires stealth..."  

"We get the picture," said Sloth.  

"This is a possibly unique opportunity to retrieve and destroy the horcrux
without provoking the goblins," argued Snape.  "We have been looking into lines
of inheritance carefully, and because of that, we have a very brief window
where we know who has access to the vault, but the Dark Lord does not.  The
bargain might not be possible to strike after today."  

"What about using a stand-in for Harry?" I suggested.  

"The fact that I am a potions master has not escaped the notice of the Dark
Lord and his followers.  I expect a similar polyjuice check to be made on
Harry," replied Snape dryly.  

"Do they have a way of detecting me and Sloth?" I asked.  "Any plan that
involves risking Harry should be a last resort."  

"There are tests they can run that neither you, nor any other imposter could
duplicate," said Snape.  "Harry's patronus has been seen, and its form is
known.  I am afraid it must be him if this plan is to have any hope of
succeeding."  

"If Harry agrees," said Sloth, "he won't be going alone with you.  Greed and
I'll hide in Harry's hair as fleas so if things go wrong, he'll have backup."  

"That's three hours," I said, snapping my watch shut and putting it back in my
pocket.  

"I'll go tell Harry the plan," offered Sloth.  "One of us has to stay with
Snape."  

I kissed her goodbye and she headed out the door.  About an hour later, Sloth
returned with Harry.  I was having Snape look over my Elixir of Life in the
meantime.  He seemed confident I'd gotten it right.  

"You really think we can get the horcrux?" asked Harry.  

"I do," said Snape.  

"Let's go, then," said Harry.  

Sloth and I temporarily entrusted our wands and watches to my time turned
future self down in the lab, then hopped onto Harry's head, turning into fleas
mid jump.  Snape took Harry by the arm and apparated with him just outside
Malfoy Manner.  Harry donned his invisibility cloak at Snape's instruction,
then both entered.  

Pleasantries were exchanged between Snape and Narcissa.  After verifying they
were alone and would not be overheard, Snape broached the subject.  

"I know what the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to do, Narcissa," said Snape.  

"I thought you must know about it," said Narcissa.  "He trusts you so,
Severus."  

"I have come to offer you help, Narcissa," said Snape.  "We both know the Dark
Lord does not intend Draco to succeed in his mission.  After Lucius' mistakes,
the Dark Lord is very angry indeed."  

"Help?" said Narcissa, as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing.  

"Let me make my meaning plain, Narcissa," said Snape.  "Helping Draco is a
betrayal of the Dark Lord.  Draco is to fail in his mission and either die in
the attempt or die at the Dark Lord's hand for failure all as punishment for
Lucius.  I am willing to turn on the Dark Lord for Draco's sake, and I have
brought with me tonight, proof of my intentions."  

At that, Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak.  Narcissa gasped and stepped
back, unsure of what she was seeing.  As had been explained to him, Harry drew
his wand and called, "Expecto Patronum!"  A luminous silver stag erupted from
the tip of his wand.  

"The real Potter?  Here?  If he finds out he was here, he'd have us all killed
for treason," said Narcissa shakily.  

"You know he has ordered me to infiltrate Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix,"
said Snape.  "I have Dumbledore's trust and his ear.  I can get Draco
protected.  You and Lucius too."  

"There is a price," said Harry.  

"What do you want?" demanded Narcissa.  

"A token of your sincerity," said Snape.  "Proof that you genuinely have turned
against the Dark Lord.  Your sister's vault contained an object the Dark Lord
entrusted to her.  Bring it to us and you have my word Draco will be
protected."  

"Will you take the Unbreakable Vow?" asked Narcissa.  

"Of course," said Snape.  

"Not you, Severus.  Him."  She pointed at Harry.  

"What's an Unbreakable Vow?" asked Harry.  

"A powerful magic from which there is no backing out of," said Snape. 
"Breaking the terms of an agreement sealed with an Unbreakable Vow is death."  

"What do you want me to swear?" asked Harry.  

"That you will protect Draco from the Dark Lord," said Narcissa.  "That you
will do all in your power to keep him safe until the war is over."  

"Will you take an Unbreakable Vow to help us defeat Tom?" asked Harry.  "Will
you sear to retrieve the object we seek, and thereafter provide any information
we ask about Tom and the Death Eaters so long as you and Draco are under our
protection?"  

"I will," said Narcissa.  

At Snape's instruction, Harry and Narcissa clasped hands and swore oaths to
that effect.  With each oath, a stream of fire came out of Snape's wand, which
was positioned over their clasped hands, and twined around their hands like a
string.  

"Retrieve the object now, Narcissa," said Snape.  "We will wait.  Once you have
done so, we will take you and Draco to Hogwarts where you will be safe and
Draco can continue his education."  

Ten minutes later, Narcissa returned carrying a black bag.  Harry opened the
bag when she handed it over.  It contained a large, two handled cup bearing the
mark of Helga Hufflepuff.  Replacing it within the bag, Harry turned to Snape.
 

"Do you think this is what we're looking for?"  

"I have little doubt," replied Snape.  "Keep it with you when we return to the
school.  I am sure you know what to do then."  

Harry nodded.  Narcissa left to retrieve Draco.  Dragged into the room by his
mother, Draco stopped and stared.  His gaze flicked between Snape and Harry,
with a look of absolute betrayal.  Draco reached toward his forearm where the
Dark Mark had been branded, but Harry was too quick for him.  

"Petrificus totalus," yelled Harry, and Draco's body froze.  

"We can't have you summoning the Dark Lord," said Snape.  "I had hoped we could
convince you to come with us for your own protection, but I see you insist upon
remaining a danger to yourself and others.  Potter, with me.  Narcissa, carry
the boy."  

Stepping outside, Snape and Narcissa apparated to Hogwarts, appearing just
outside the main gate.  Heavy chains were strung across the entrance, which
Snape opened with a tap of his wand.  We quickly made our way up to the castle
proper, and gathered in Snape's office.  Snape took his seat and spoke.  

"If Draco persists in his escape attempts and in trying to contact the Dark
Lord, protecting him from himself will prove difficult and troublesome."  

"We could bring him to the Chamber of Secrets," suggested Harry.  "Petrify him
and revive him when Tom's dead."  

"An interesting option," noted Snape, "but I rather expect petrification counts
as harm under the terms of the Unbreakable Vow you recently swore."  

Harry thought for a moment, then said, "Tom wants him to kill Dumbledore,
right?  Can't we modify his memory so he thinks that's why his mother took hm
here early?"  

"I can keep an eye on his attempts using legilimency," considered Snape. 
"Regular interviews can be undertaken to convince the boy to see reason, and he
could be obliviated again afterward if he does not."  

"It sounds like the best we can do," said Harry.  "Make sure he doesn't
endanger the muggle families coming to stay here this year, all right?"  

"I shall no doubt be running damage control on the boy's inept schemes all
year," noted Snape, dryly.  "Now, Potter, if you will excuse us.  Make sure to
wear your cloak when you return to my office."  

With that, Harry headed for the Chamber of Secrets with the bag.  Sloth and I
hopped off Harry's head and retook human form once we were in the tunnel.  

"I know you don't like memory charms," said Harry immediately.  

"I don't," I admitted.  "But I don't like killing either, and I accept that has
to happen sometimes."  

"This does sound like a good plan," said Sloth.  "We're behind you 100%."  

Harry breathed.  "Thanks."  

"Before we have the Serpent of Slytherin do her thing, let me grab my camera
and take a few pictures of that cup," I suggested.  "Dumbledore or one of the
members of the Order might be able to tell us more about it."  

Harry nodded, so I walked through the back wall, into my lab, and retrieved my
camera and a fresh roll of film.  I snapped a few shots of the cup from
different angles, then Harry explained to the basilisk wearing goggles and pink
earmuffs what she had to do.  

As with the diary, an unpleasant ichor ran from the wound in the cup.  It
blackened and tarnished starting from where the basilisk fang pierced it, and
this fragment of Voldemort's soul was no more.  Harry replaced the broken
remains in the bag for Dumbledore to look over later.  I developed the pictures
and put one in the bag with the cup.  

Snape was back in his black wizard robes when we stepped out from under the
invisibility cloak in his office.  Harry handed him the bag.  

"One step closer to mortality," said Snape, glancing inside.  "We should leave
this in the Headmaster's office.  Put your cloak back on."  

Snape led us back up to Dumbledore's office and set the sack down on
Dumbledore's desk.  He told the portraits of former headmasters that decorated
the office that he needed to speak to the headmaster about its contents as soon
as he returned.  

"Now, Potter, we will need to use your time turner," said Snape.  "That you
stole one from the Ministry is obvious.  Miss Granger is not the type to engage
in larceny without prompting or accomplices.  Now, my movements are being
observe, so I need to be back where I am supposed to be before I left so I
won't be missed."  

"Right," said Harry, taking the gold chain from around his neck and wrapping it
around the four of us.  

Five turns, and the four of us were right outside the Hogwarts gate five hours
ago.  Snape returned us home, then disappeared himself.  His alibi secured, we
went into the Dursleys' to report in on our success.  It was that successful
report that led to James and Lily allowing Harry to go in the first place.  I
just wished I knew how many more horcurxes Voldemort had.  

                                     * * *


Dumbledore arrived at our front door a week later.  Unlike Snape, he didn't
even bother with muggle dress.  His wand hand was injured, shriveled and
blackened.  He wore a ring on his left hand.  The ring was set with an unusual
stone.  It was engraved with the Deathly Hallows symbol, and was cracked down
the middle, along the vertical line representing the Elder Wand Dumbledore
carried.  It didn't split the stone in two, just cracked the surface.  

"I trust the two of you have your trunks packed and ready to go," said
Dumbledore.  

"We're all set," said Sloth.  "Are the Weasleys ready for us?"  

"Quite so," said Dumbledore.  "We just need to pop in next door and pick up
Harry."  

"What happened to your hand?" I asked.  

"That is a rather long story, I'm afraid, and we are on a schedule," replied
Dumbledore.  

Next door, Sloth, Loki, Dumbledore, and I met up with Lily, James, and Harry. 
Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley tried to hide in the kitchen while Dumbledore went
over the travel arrangements.  James was to take myself, Sloth, and Loki
directly to the Burrow.  Dumbledore, Lily, and Harry would be making a detour
to convince a new faculty member to join the teaching staff, then they would
join us.  

James apparated us right outside the Burrow, and we were subjected to some
security checks before we entered.  It was nearly midnight, so we were sent up
to bed, me in Fred and George's former room with Neville (the twins were living
on their own above their new joke shop in Diagon Alley) and Sloth in Ginny's
room with Hermione.  Loki curled up at the foot of my bed, and I relaxed and
went to sleep.  

Harry arrived at some point during the night.  When we woke in the morning,
there was a flurry of updates exchanged in English and parseltongue.  English
updates included our successful destruction of the horcrux in the Lestrange
vault, with before and after pictures passed around.  Harry explained the price
and the related Unbreakable Vow in parseltongue.  Bill Weasley had gotten
engaged to Fleur Delacour.  Mrs. Weasley didn't like it, convinced they were
rushing into things.  Harry told us in parseltongue that Dumbledore was going
to be giving him special lessons on Voldemort this year.  

At lunch, a small flock of owls arrived, one for each of us entering our sixth
year.  Nerves were frayed all around as we opened envelopes containing the
results of our OWLs. Apparently, the examiners on the practical were more
concerned with results than with means.  I had passed and received
certification in all twelve OWLs.  I'd managed top grades in Potions and
Divination.  Hermione and I were the only ones who'd passed History of Magic. 
Sloth managed to pass the rest of her OWLs, leaving her with eight total.

"We have our OWLs!" I called out in glee.  "Not a drop of magic in either of
us, but you're a certified witch and I'm a certified wizard!"  

"And you got all of them," said Sloth.  "Not even Hermione managed that.  I
knew you were brilliant."  

"Only because she dropped Divination," I said.  "She outscored me on everything
but Potions and Defense."  

Mrs. Weasley was busy congratulating Ron on his seven OWLS when I nudged my way
in.  

"Actually, Ron earned one more certification last term," I said.  "In Amestris,
the state offers an exam for alchemists.  Those who pass are given access to
the state's alchemical libraries, a large research budget, and a high level of
authority.  As proof of their identities and certifications, these alchemists
are each given a silver pocketwatch."  

I took the goblin silver watch emblazoned with a Gryffindor lion out of my
pocket and dangled it by its chain for all to see.  Ron stared at it while his
family stared at him.  I'd only decided to do this graduation style
presentation late last term, so no one could really have been expecting it,
even if they were following Ron's progress as an alchemist.  I lowered the
watch into Ron's waiting hands as I continued.  

"I don't have the authority to make you a State Alchemist, since that's a
military position, but I can tell you that you were overqualified for it in
your third year.  I can declare that as of this moment, you are a master
alchemist.  I've taught you everything I know.  All I ask of you in exchange is
that you pass on what you've learned."  

"I don't know what to say," said Ron.  

"You've earned it, Ron," said Hermione, planting a congratulatory kiss on him.
 

"Don't let her butter you up, Ron," teased Sloth.  "She just wants to be the
first one you teach."  

Hermione blushed, then said, "You are going to be teaching it this year, aren't
you?"  

Ron blanked and considered.  "I suppose if I found time to keep studying it
last year, I can manage to teach the basics now that OWLs are done and I'm
dropping classes."  

"Alchemy's what let you quick grow mandrakes in our second year, right?" asked
Neville.  

"You can come too," said Ron.  

                                     * * *


Between games of Quidditch played in the Weasleys' garden, we got to visit with
various members of the Order of the Phoenix over the following weeks. 
Continuing news of Death Eater attacks convinced several of them to accept my
standing offer to make the homunculi.  Bill, Charlie, Arthur, and Molly were
the first.  Lupin was holding off until he could test that lycanthropy cure on
himself.  There would be a lunar eclipse this year.  Sirius accepted after
having seen James as good as new, with his animagus powers intact even.  Moody
considered it, but decided the phase where his soul was attached to the coin
left him too vulnerable.  Tonks went through with it though.  Fleur held off on
the grounds I'd never tried this on a part human before.  

All that contact with Order members gave us lots of chances to discuss the
horcrux situation.  Some of the Aurors managed to find out that the cup had
been stolen years ago from the estate of a deceased witch.  Also stolen at the
same time was a locket which had once belonged to Salazar Slytherin.  The
description of our next target in the horcrux hunt jogged memories.  

The locket had been in Grimauld Place.  It had been thrown out during Sirius'
zealous gutting of the house.  Our hopes were raised when Kreacher the house
elf admitted to having saved it from being thrown out, only to be dashed by his
lament that Mundungus Fletcher had stolen it.  The Order members promised to
find Mundugns, track whoever he'd sold it to, and deliver the locket to
Dumbledore for disposal as soon as possible.  

Discussion of how the horcurx came to be at Grimauld Place centered around
Sirius' brother Regulus, who had joined the Death Eaters only to be killed
after trying to back out.  Like Lucius and Belatrix, it seemed Voldemort had
entrusted this horcrux to Regulus.  No doubt each of them thought they were
uniquely honored and trusted as a result.  

With further progress in the horcrux hunt out of our hands, we joined Molly on
the trip to Diagon Alley to get our new books and supplies.  While we were
there, we paid a visit to Fred and George's joke shop.  It was the only shop in
the alley that retained the vibrant, colorful displays that had been present
the previous year.  Now, those shops that weren't boarded up had displays
completely obscured by security notices and wanted posters.  All of them except
Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.  

Inside there was an amazing variety of merchandise.  I recognized most of the
trick candy as well as the extendible ears, but they'd expanded their range
considerably.  I had to take a systematic pattern investigating the shop to
learn all the potential treasures that lie within.  I'd added a full set of
hat, cloak, and gloves enchanted with shield charms to my shopping basket when
I saw a pink display that made me feel like vomiting and storming off.  

Amid all these fun toys and useful tools, there was a display of love potions. 
No one in the shop was batting an eye at the display.  In fact, a large cluster
of girls was gathered around the display, giggling to one another and pouring
over the many many options present.  

"Didn't think you'd have much need for love potions," said Fred
conversationally.  

"What is wrong with you?!" I exploded.  

"What is it, mate?" asked Fred, confused and concerned.  

I pulled a love potion off the shelf and threw it at him.  The pink bottle
shattered on impact.  "Supernatural roofies!"  I threw another one.  The girls
around the display scattered.  "Magical date rape drugs!"  I chucked another
bottle at George who'd come to try to calm down the situation.  "Why don't you
just sell instructions for the Imperius curse and drop the pretense?!"  

I was making a scene, but I didn't care.  I agreed with Harry about using the
Triwizard Tournament winnings to help finance this place.  Everything else the
twins ever made was funny or useful, and above all harmless.  I didn't care
that love potions were something people in this world considered harmless fun. 
I didn't care that I wasn't likely to change that perception on my own.  But
I'd be damned if I quietly held my tongue when they were being sold out of a
shop I helped finance, by people I otherwise thought highly of.  

"Mate, let's talk about this in the back," suggested George, reasonably.  

Sloth put a hand on my shoulder and I allowed myself to be guided into a back
room.  While being escorted out, I controlled my breathing and forced myself to
think instead of just feel.  Fred and George were looking at me with
expressions of worry and concern.  There was no trace of anger at my outburst.
 

"I'll compensate you for the lost revenue," I said, my eyes downcast.  

"We're not worried about a few smashed bottles," said Fred.  "We were going to
offer you free merchandise anyway for putting up half our startup gold."  

"Admittedly, we didn't expect you to start chucking your free merchandise at us
while screaming your head off," said George chuckling.  "Now if we could bottle
that reaction, we'd have a new top seller."  

"Seriously, Greed," said Fred, "what's wrong?  You looked like you were having
the time of your life until you went off like that."  

Looking up at them, I said, "I want the love potions taken off the shelves. 
Like I said, I'll compensate you for any lost revenue, but I want no part in
selling those... things."  

"They aren't anything to joke about," said Sloth, squeezing my hand
supportively.  

Fred stuck his head through the door and called out, "Verity, I need you to
pull the love potions off the shelves right away."  

"That settled," said George happily, "what do you think of the shop?"  

I blinked.  "That's it?" I asked.  

"Don't get us wrong," said Fred.  "We don't make a habit of caving to the
demands of moralizing busybodies and stuck up killjoys."  

"We're making a one time exception in your case," said George, teasingly. 
"Partly because you're one of our top investors."  

"Partly because you were involved in the deaths of half a dozen Death Eaters
and we'd rather not be on the receiving end of that," said Fred gravely.  The
fact that he was standing in front of a stack of boxes containing Voldemort
themed constipation products made the joke, and I couldn't help but laugh.  

"Finally," said George.  "I thought he'd never crack up."  

"Okay, so no more love potions?" I asked.  Nods of confirmation came from the
twins.  "In that case, this is the best joke shop ever."  

"And to think, all we needed to make it perfect was to trash one of our money
making displays," mused Fred.  

"I was serious about compensating you for that," I said.  

"Nope," said George.  "Anything that would make our investors lose faith in
this venture isn't worth selling to begin with.  Think of the bad word of mouth
we'd be dealing with if you hadn't started yelling and throwing things."  

"Besides, that idea for something to make your friends and enemies flip out for
a few seconds'll earn us ten times what the love potions ever brought in once
we develop it," said Fred.  

"That settled," said Sloth, "we can get back to offering you two immortality
like we were planning to do this morning."  

The twins looked at each other.  Then George spoke.  "We appreciate the offer. 
Really we do.  But we have to turn it down."  

"You see, we're still testing our new products on ourselves," explained Fred. 
"And as our customers are primarily human, it'd be irresponsible of us to
abandon our humanity."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
That love potion display always bothered me, and given Sloth and Greed's
experiences and issues with mind control, there was no way to leave it
uncommitted upon.  Fred and George are fiercely independent, but they're
genuinely decent, compassionate people.  The whole point of the shop is to be a
happy place where people can get away from the seriousness of the outside
world, and seeing what was basically a PTSD trigger happen over something
they're selling got them to bend. 
***** The War Continues and Life Goes On *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 54) The War Continues and
Life Goes On
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


With all of our things ready for our new year at Hogwars, it was soon time to
board the Hogwarts Express.  As prefects, Sloth and I had to break off from
Harry and patrol the train.   When we stopped by his compartment, it turned out
Professor Slughorn, this year's new teacher, had invited Harry and Neville to
have lunch with him.  Harry explained, as we debarked the train, that it had
been about mingling with well connected students.  Slughorn apparently did
something similar when he taught at Hogwarts years ago.  

The welcome feast had a lot more people than usual, as muggle parents sat near
their children at the house tables.  Dumbledore greeted one and all, and I
noted that his shriveled hand had not healed.  A sign of a wound inflicted by
dark magic.  After the sorting and the feast, Dumbledore introduced Professor
Slughorn properly.  He was a very old, very fat wizard, who would be teaching
Potions this year.  Snape, for his part, would be teaching Defense.  

Something was wrong.  The Defense position was cursed.  Putting Snape in that
position was as good as saying he would no longer be needed.  Lupin had been
outed as a werewolf after nearly killing students, and that had been one of the
more pleasant fates of our former Defense teachers.  Given Snape's position as
a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, the curse striking him could well mean
absolute disaster.  

The fifth year prefects had led the students to their dorms, so I was able to
link up with Sloth and head for Dumbledore's office.  We needed to talk. 
Ignoring the gargoyle and its password, the two of us stepped through the wall
and rode the spiral staircase up to Dumbledore's office.  

"I must say, I did not expect to see the two of you so soon," said Dumbledore
by way of greetings.  "To what do I owe this late social call?"  

"Snape," I said.  "Are you trying to get him killed?"  

"Is there some reason I should be concerned about Professor Snape's safety?"
asked Dumbledore mildly.  

"He's spying on Tom and you gave him that jinxed job," said Sloth.  "When the
jinx kicks in, the most likely outcome is him getting found out as a spy and
killed."  

"Ah, so you have noticed the pattern, have you?" said Dumbledore calmly.  

"I think the whole school has," I said.  

"Then why do you think Professor Snape has not?" replied Dumbledore.  When
neither of us answered, Dumbledore continued.  "You have no doubt heard the
rumor that Professor Snape has been trying to get the Defense Against the Dark
Arts position for years.  He is every bit as aware of the jinx on it as I am. 
In fact, this is precisely why he has been so interested in the position."  

"If he has a death wish, there are easier ways," I noted.  

"Quite the opposite, actually," said Dumbledore.  "Professor Snape believes
that he can have the jinx lifted by taking the position himself."  

"Because Tom's the one who put the jinx in place and Snape's still one of Tom's
top men," reasoned Sloth.  

"Didn't help Quirrell much," I argued, "or Crouch Jr."  

"Which is why I have not accepted his request until now," explained
Dumbledore.  "Now, Lord Voldemort has been restored to hsi full strength, with
his magic intact, and has found himself with fewer allies than he might have
hoped, making Severus proportionately more valuable.  Add to that a plot to
have me killed so he can take over the school directly, and we have never had a
better time to convince him to lift the jinx."  

"This sounds thin," I said.  "A lot could easily go wrong with this plan."  

"Perhaps, but what's done is done," said Dumbledore.  "I expect you'll find
Severus a knowledgeable and talented Defense teacher."  

"Okay, next question," said Sloth.  "What happened to your hand?  It's not
healing and that says dark magic."  

"Quite right," said Dumbledore.  "The darkest of all the dark arts, in fact.  I
managed to locate and destroy another of Lord Voldemort's horcruxes.  This
withered hand is a result of the defensive curse that was laid on it."  

"What was the horcrux?" I asked.  "And where di you find it?  There might be
clues about the others."  

"The horcrux was fashioned from a family heirloom from the magical side of Tom
Riddle's family, passed down through the Gaunts from the Peveralls.  I
retrieved it from the Gaunt shack where the last of the line previously lived."
 

"You didn't tell us what this heirloom was," Sloth pointed out slyly.  

Dumbledore directed our attention toward a small table where the ring with the
Deathly Hallows symbol rested.  

"The Gaunts were Hallow seekers?" I asked.  

"I don't believe so," said Dumbledore.  "The only value they ever saw in the
ring was as evidence of their long pureblood line.  Now, I do believe the both
of you have an important day ahead of you tomorrow, so unless you have further
questions, I would advise you get to bed."  

                                     * * *


The next morning at breakfast, I discussed my proposed schedule with Professor
Flitwick.  I'd applied to continue with all my subjects except History of
Magic, which I intended to study independently for the NEWT.  The scheduling
for NEWT years intentionally included long empty periods in which to study and
complete homework, so it wasn't actually a matter of classes overlapping with
one another.  Flitwick was more concerned I'd end up spreading myself too thin.
 

Not wanting to explicitly acknowledge my stolen time turner, I argued instead
that I didn't need to sleep.  Since dream interpretation was finished in last
year's Divination class, I would actually be able to exploit this ability this
year to keep up with my work load.  In the end, he had to acknowledge I had met
the prerequisites and allow me to go to my first class.  

The only four students going on to NEWT level in Divination were myself, Sloth,
and two Gryffindor girls who'd long adored the subject in general and Professor
Trelawney in particular.  We were doing cartomancy as our first lesson this
year, which resulted in me predicting that I would soon be involved in a
contest that I must lose or the war would be lost.  Sloth's cards kept coming
up as omens of doom, which Trelawney helpfully interpreted as she would fall to
despair darker than death.  As a result, Sloth started wearing her patronus pin
everywhere.  

The thinned out numbers were a consistent element in all my NEWT classes. 
Hermione and I had only one other student with us in Arithmancy, and only two
others in Ancient Runes.  The phenomenon reached its peak when Sloth and I
arrived alone to Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class.  Hagrid was
obviously hurt that his other students, especially Harry, had dropped his
class, but he soldiered on.  The fact that Sloth and I were the only two
students more durable than Hagrid was meant the increasingly dangerous and
interesting magical creatures Hagrid had held back for NEWT years could be
fully appreciated without interruptions like someone fleeing for their lives or
needing to be hospitalized.  

In our Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Snape introduced the concept of
wordless magic.  Thinking the incantation instead of saying it resulted in a
spell with less power behind it, but which could be cast quicker and would not
give your opponent warning about what was coming in a fight.  For Sloth and I,
this meant we could finally stop struggling to remember incantations while we
emulated spells with alchemy.  Harry got into an argument with Snape that
landed him in detention before the class was over.  

Potions was very differant with Slughorn teaching it.  He started by
introducing four potions we would be able to brew by the time we finished our
NEWT studies with him.  Polyjuice, which I was already familiar with,
Veritasyrum, the colorless, odorless truth potion I had been drugged with on
arriving in this world, Felix Felicis, liquid luck, and Amortentia, the most
powerful love potion in the world.  Slughorn earned my respect when he took the
time to issue dire warnings about the dangers inherent in love potions, calling
Amortentia the most dangerous potion in the room.  Someone besides me saw the
problem with those things.  

The Felix Felicis, Slughorn offered as a reward for the student who brewed the
best Draught of Living Death.  Harry and Ron hadn't had the necessary OWL grade
to participate in Snape's NEWT potions class, but were allowed to continue now
that Slughorn was teaching.  As a result, they had to borrow second hand copies
of the potions textbook from the storage cupboard.  

I got started preparing my ingredients as I looked over the recipe in my book. 
The actual brewing went far worse than usual.  Having experimented on my own
time, it was just the standard difference between the textbook's recipe and
Snape's recipes.  I pressed on regardless, knowing that even if it was a worse
recipe then I'd have gotten with Snape teaching, the book's directions would
produce a serviceable potion.  

Harry was progressing much faster than the rest of us, eventually prompting
Hermione to ask how he was doing it.  Harry suggested adding a clockwise stir
to our counterclockwise stirring.  I tried it, and saw immediate results.  

Suddenly, I recalled the prophecy I'd made earlier in the day.  Slughorn had
made this a contest, and unless I lost, we would lose the war.  I ceased adding
clockwise stirs and resolutely stuck to the book's instructions, allowing Harry
to maintain and build up his lead.  

Harry won Slughorn's contest and the reward.  A tiny bottle of Felix Felicis,
enough for twelve hours of good luck.  After the class, Ron questioned Harry on
his sudden jump in potions proficiency.  Harry explained in parseltongue that
the previous owner of his book had scribbled notes and corrections in the
margins.  

A few more potions lessons conclusively demonstrated the previous owner of
Harry's book, someone calling himself the Half Blood Prince, was far more
knowledgeable about potions than the original author.  Harry was happy to share
this resource with us, so I used a red stone to copy the Prince's notes from
Harry's book into mine, Ron's, and Sloth's.  Hermione was unwilling to follow
the advice or instructions of a student over those of an instructor or
textbook, and as a result was falling behind.  

Meanwhile, I made use of the extra time afforded me by my time turner to not
only complete the significant amount of homework I was getting, but also to
start really doing a comparison study of Snape's old recipes versus those in
the textbook.  There were principles, theory, rules that Snape was working off
of that led him to prepare his potions the way he did, and I needed to
understand those principles.  They were clearly the same sort of ideas that
made the difference in the Prince's recipes.  

                                     * * *


Harry's private lessons with Dumbledore began at the end of the week. 
Meanwhile, Ron was starting to worry himself sick at the prospect of teaching a
class of his own.  We usually waited until the second week so everyone would
have time to get settled in, and get a handle on their schedules, so it would
soon be time for him to get started.  

"How am I supposed to do this?" asked Ron for the eighth time.  "I mean,
Hermione's already read every book on alchemy in the library."  

"Ron, did I ever show you a single alchemy book when I was teaching?" I asked.
 

"No," he replied.  

"That's because this world's understanding of alchemy is so primitive and
backward trying to separate useful concepts from the useless superstitions
isn't worth the effort," I said.  "If she's going to learn anything about
alchemy, it'll have to be through you."  

"What about Neville?" asked Ron.  "Harry can motivate him, but I've got no idea
how he does it."  

"Neville wants to learn this," said Sloth.  "He's motivating himself. 
Remember, in a lot of classes, Neville's been worried his magic isn't up to
par.  Just remind him this isn't magic and he'll be fine."  

Harry found us while we were talking and reported what Dumbledore had shown
him.  Dumbledore had used the penisive to show Harry Voldemort's mother, uncle,
and grandfather.  Both Slytherin's locket and the ring horcrux were apparently
family heirlooms of Voldemort's family.  The Gaunts were apparently an abusive,
inbred clan of purebloods who so attempted to separate themselves from the rest
of society, they communicated almost exclusively in parseltongue.  

                                     * * *


The next week, Ron got started on teaching alchemy.  He asked for advise again
and again, but as his confidence improved, he asked less and less.  Snape's
Defense lessons turning out to actually be useful, Harry didn't bother with
restarting the DA.  I did manage to convince Sir Nicholas to resume our fencing
lessons now that Umbridge was no longer present.  It took us regular meetings
the whole week to make up for our year of inaction and get back to where we
were at the end of fourth year.  

Harry's detention with Snape turned out to have been a ploy on Snape's part to
disguise his continuing legilimency lessons with Harry from Dumbledore.  As no
one would believe Harry needed remedial Defense, Harry would instead be serving
regular detentions.  While they met, Snape also passed on some important
information to Harry.  Dumbledore was dying.  

"Why?  How?" asked Ron when Harry reported this to us after fencing lessons the
next day.  

"The curse on the ring horcrux wasn't destroyed when Dumbledore broke the
horcrux," explained Harry.  

"How long does he have?" asked Sloth.  

"Snape figures he managed to temporarily contain the curse in the hand
Dumbledore touched it with," replied Harry.  "He reckons it'll get past what he
did to contain it in less than a year."  

"If it's contained now, couldn't be amputate his hand and survive?" I
suggested.  

"Amputate?" asked Ginny.  

"A muggle medical technique," I explained.  "If a body part becomes infected or
contaminated, you cut off the diseased part to preserve the rest and keep the
problem from spreading."  

"Wouldn't it be better to just make him a homunculus?" asked Hermione.  

"We offered it to him along with the rest of the Order this summer," said
Sloth.  "He turned it down because he doesn't want to be immortal."  

"It makes sense," said Luna.  "Now that he's got the Resurrection Stone, he'd
obviously want to move on."  

"The Resurrection Stone?" asked Harry.  "How do you figure he has that?"  

"He doesn't," said Hermione flatly.  "The Deathly Hallows are a story."  

"They why is Professor Dumbledore wearing the Resurrection Stone as a ring?"
asked Luna.  "It fits all the descriptions and has the Hallows symbol engraved
on it."  

"And in the story," said Neville, "the brother who got the Resurrection Stone
used it to summon his dead loved ones.  They convinced him to join them on the
other side."  

"I keep telling you, the Deathly Hallows don't actually exist," insisted
Hermione.  

"Then how do you explain Harry's cloak?" asked Ron.  

"We know some charms don't last long while others can last centuries," said
Hermione.  "Whoever made Harry's cloak was a talented wizard.  Nothing more."  

"A talented wizard could make the Resurrection Stone, too," I said.  "We know
that it's possible to summon the shades of the dead under certain
circumstances.  We've exploited prior incantum after a killing curse.  Studying
that phenomenon might lead to other circumstances it's possible in."  

"Do you really think Professor Dumbledore has the Resurrection Stone?" asked
Sloth.  

"There's only one way to find out," I said.  

                                     * * *


Unfortunately, Dumbledore wasn't in the school that evening, or the next day. 
He was spending more time out of the school than inside it.  I set my metal spy
bugs to inform me when he was back on the grounds so I wouldn't miss him.  

Meanwhile, a long anticipated moment came.  Professor Flitwick assigned us the
protean charm.  Two or more objects were to be magically linked such that any
change made to one would be reflected on the other.  It was actually not
possible to duplicate this charm with alchemy.  I had reached the limits of my
clever work arounds and over complicated tricks.  I couldn't do this without
magic.  

"You knew it had to be this year or next," said Sloth.  "Why do you think I
dropped Charms?  Protean, undetectable extension, hour reversal, fidelius, all
charms, and all things alchemy can't do."  

"I know," I said unhappily.  "It's just we've gotten so much farther than I
thought we would.  We passed our OWLs.  I had to know how much farther we could
go."  

"Three weeks into NEWT Charms, apparently," said Sloth.  "Are you going to drop
Charms?"  

"If Professor Flitwick will let me, I want to stay on to study the theory."  

"You still think you're going to find a way to get magic, don't you?"  

"I know there's a way," I admitted.  "It may take a century's work and a dozen
worlds worth of knowledge, but eventually, I will figure it out.  When I do, I
want to be able to use it."  

"Well, I guess after Ed and Al figured out how to bring a human back to life,
anything seems possible in the long run," said Sloth.  "Speaking of which, I
want to check out the Resurection Stone if Dumbledore's really got it."  

"You and me both," I said.  

"So, how goes your potions recipe analysis?" asked Sloth changing the subject.
 

"The red stones were a big help with picking out the pattern," I said.  "A lot
of it's down to differences in ingredient preparation that would come with
experimentation and experience.  Most of the rest is down to having a good
understanding of what the ingredients actually do when used in a potion
individually.  Everything left is stylistic preference.  Interesting thing is,
the Prince and Snape have almost the exact same signature style with potions."
 

"So, those are notes from someone who took Snape's NEWT Potions class and
didn't use his own notebook," reasoned Sloth.  

"I don't think so," I said.  "The Prince's book has corrections that look like
he was working out these principles himself, not like he was copying anything
down.  I think Harry has Snape's old Potions book."  

                                     * * *


Professor Flitwick encouraged me to continue with Charms.  My homework scores
were as good as ever, and this was the first charm I'd ever failed to master. 
He suggested, accurately, that I might have fewer issues with the refilling
charm we would be studying next.  

Hermione finally gave up her objections to using the Prince's instructions once
I revealed my theory that Snape was the Half Blood Prince.  Harry and Hermione
brought in additional evidence supporting my theory, including Harry checking
with his father that Snape had invented a spell scrawled in the margins of the
book while they were at school together.  

Hermione's parents and a few of the other muggles being sheltered at Hogwarts
from the attacks outside had joined Ron's alchemy class, mostly for the sake of
having something to do.  They came out of their first lesson appropriately
awed.  I was congratulating Ron on his successfully integrating them in with
the wizard students when one of my bugs landed on my shoulder.  Dumbledore was
back in the castle.  

I didn't waste time.  Asking Ron to keep an eye on Loki for me, I got to
Dumbledore's office as quickly as my familiarity with the castle's secret
passages allowed.  When I walked through his door without bothering to open it,
I found him in consultation with the portraits of former headmasters, passing
on instructions and other day to day matters involved with running a secret
society like the Order of the Phoenix.  

"I don't believe I've seen you in my office so often during previous years,"
said Dumbledore.  "You might've at least knocked even if you won't respect the
gargoyle."  

"I'm sorry, but this is urgent.  I'm here to save your life."  

"And what danger do you think it's in?"  

"The curse Snape contained in your hand is going to get stronger until what
Snape did can no longer contain it."  

"Professor Snape, if you please," said Dumbledore.  "And you are right.  All
that can be done about it has already been done, however."  

"Everything magic can do," I corrected him.  "You know my powers are different
than yours.  They have different strengths and different weaknesses."  

"I am still not interested in your promise of immortality," said Dumbledore.  

"I thought you might say that," I said.  "I'm not here to offer you that
again.  But I can stop the curse from spreading permanently."  I drew my wand. 
"I've been studying how magic and alchemy interact for most of my time in this
world.  Trust me, I can stop this curse."  

"As I understand it, your powers require detailed knowledge of something before
they can interact with it," said Dumbledore.  "That is why you could not
contain Lord Voldemort's damaged soul.  What makes you think you understand the
curse well enough to act against it?"  

"My powers would be utterly useless if I didn't have some way of analyzing
things," I said.  "Red stones enhance every aspect of the alchemic process,
including discerning compositions.  They are imperfect, weaker copies of the
Philosopher's Stone after all, and there's a reason one of the names for the
Philosopher's Stone is the Red Teacher.  Let me see your wand hand."  

Dumbledore raised his blackened and shriveled hand.  The Elder Wand was
clutched in fingers that no longer worked properly.  I looked at the hand
closely, my wand pointed at the wrist, where Snape's efforts had prevented the
curse from spreading beyond.  In an instant, a blue blade of alchemic light
sprang from my wand tip.  I flicked my wrist, and Dumbledore's hand was
severed, and dropped onto his desk.  

I'd sealed the flesh on either side so no loss of blood would occur.  The
severed hand dried out and cracked in an instant, crumbling to dust now that
the curse was able to work unimpeded by the resistance of Dumbledore's magic. 
I took the Elder Wand from the pile of dust as Dumbledore processed what I'd
just done.  

"Now that you're out of immediate danger," I said, offering him his wand back,
"we can talk about your options for replacing that hand.  Obviously, my offer
to make you a homunculus stands, even if I doubt you'll go for it.  That silver
hand spell would probably work out pretty well, though personally, I'd rather
not have to deal with the loss of feeling involved.  I could try to restore
your hand by mixing you with one or more animals and making you a chimera, but
there are significant risks with that, especially at your age."  

Grasping the Elder Wand in his left hand, Dumbledore uttered an incantation and
conjured a silver hand for himself which affixed on the stump of his right
wrist.  He tested flexing his fingers for a moment, then put his wand away
within his robes.  

"There is a risk," said Dumbledore, "particularly with very powerful wizards,
that we will become so fixated on our intended course of action that we can
overlook a simple solution.  You have my thanks, Marcus."  

"You're welcome, Professor Dumbledore," I said.  "Now, I'd like you to answer a
question.  Is the Resurrection Stone now in your possession?"  

"I had wondered if those of you aware of the Hallows would recognize this for
what it is."  

Dumbledore set the cracked stone from the ring on the desk.  

"You tried to destroy it," I observed.  

"I used the Sword of Gryffindor, infused with basilisk venom, to destroy the
horcrux within.  I accepted the risk that the Resurrection Stone itself might
be destroyed in the process."  

"Does it still work?" I asked.  

Dumbledore gave a sad smile and said, "Yes."  

"Why didn't you bring this to me sooner?" I asked.  "I can give the summoned
shades bodies, bring them the rest of the way back to life.  We can stop
worrying about casualties on our side.  This war'll be impossible for Tom to
win if no one on our side stays dead.  We can reverse the muggle killings he's
made already, bring back those who died fighting him in the last war."  

"I would think that if anyone would be skeptical about the Stone's powers, it
would be someone who is intimately familiar with the prices and limitations of
another Stone offering miracles."  

"What are the prices and limitations on this stone?" I asked.  "Maybe I'll
still be willing to pay when all's been tallied."  

Dumbledore gave a defeated sigh.  "The spirits summoned are those dead who the
summoner loved dearly, and who loved the summoner in return.  The Resurrection
Stone employs the most powerful and mysterious magic in existence, the
unbreakable, eternal bond that is love, to overcome the boundary between life
and death.  The spirits I was able to interview have told me they are content
and at peace with their existence on the other side."  

"They're not trapped inside the Gate then," I muttered to myself.  It was an
incredibly relief.  More loudly, I asked, "Do you mind if I ask Luna's mother
if she wants the chance to be in her daughter's life?  Harry's parents did."  

                                     * * *


Pandora Lovegood was invisible from the prospective of an outside observer. 
The eight of us had gathered in the Chamber of Secrets to carry out the
experiment.  Luna held the Resurrection Stone, and was telling her mother about
the life she'd led since the accident that had killed her.  

"I know we'll be together eventually, but I want you to be here to see me
graduate, to give me away with dad at my wedding, to meet my friends."  

When Luna nodded, Ron clapped and successfully attached the unseen soul to
metal using a blood seal.  

"This is an intermediate step, Mrs. Lovegood," I said.  "I'll be making you a
new, flesh and blood body now.  We made sure everything was ready in case you
said yes."  

Once the blonde witch was in a homunculus body that let her properly hug her
daughter, I handed the Resurrection Stone to Sloth.  She turned the Stone over
in her hand three times as Luna had done, then looked up.  

"Nothing happened," she said.  "Either the Stone doesn't work on people who
died outside its home world, or no one I've been loved by is dead."  

I hugged Sloth as tears started leaking from her eyes.  "People who love you
not being dead is a good thing," I said, patting her back comfortingly.  

"I know," she choked.  "It's just... he didn't love me, did he?"  

"No," I said as gently as I could.  "You were never a person to Shao.  He never
realized how precious you are, and that's his loss, his failure as a human
being and as a father.  I don't think he loved the original Nina either.  How
could he with what he did to her?"  

When she'd cried herself out on my shoulder, we brought the Resurrection Stone
back up to Dumbledore's office.  It needed to be protected, and plans needed to
be made to exploit its powers.  Pandora Lovegood left Hogwarts to reunite with
her husband.  

In the face of all the emotion of the Stone's use, I couldn't really express my
own feelings until much later.  Father Cornello offered us exactly this in
order to entice us into his service.  Now here I was, doing for real what
Cornello had ruled Liore on empty promises of.  The reality of it was so much
bigger than it had seemed when I still believed in Cornello and Leto.  Not
since making a Philosopher's Stone had I been so awed at the power in my hands.
 

"I'm really happy for Luna," said Sloth over our communication mirrors late
that night.  "I just wish it hadn't turned out to rely on love.  Everyone I
want to bring back were near strangers."  

"Who?" I asked.  

"The people she killed," said Sloth.  "I know, I know.  I wasn't in control of
my actions, but I still remember their faces.  The men I helped Karin kill in
her soul attachment experiments.  The prisoners who were made into red stones
for me to eat.  I just really wish there was a way to undo all those deaths.  I
think I'd feel less responsible if there were.  Guilt isn't really rational."  

"Until we do figure it out," I said, "what do you say we just keep saving the
lives we can save and putting an end to this war?"  

"Sounds good to me, Greed," she said.  

                                     * * *


Harry and the others had reconciled with Hagrid, pleading their overfull
schedules.  Sloth and I were thrown under the bus as freaks who could do all
our homework overnight since we didn't need to sleep.  We corroborated that,
happy to see Hagrid warm up to our friends once again.  

As it turned out, that hadn't been the only thing driving Hagrid's depression. 
Aragog, the blind leader of the acromantula colony had grown ill over the
summer and wasn't recovering.  The spider had been around since Hagrid's days
in school.  In all likelihood, it was dying of old age.  I confirmed with
Hagrid that my offered immortality would only work on humans, the souls of
other magical creatures being largely an unknown quantity.  

Snape approached Harry with some information before our scheduled Hogsmeade
weekend.  Draco had placed Rosmerta, the publican of the Three Broomsticks,
under the Imperius curse.  Rosmerta had been instructed to pass on a cursed
necklace to a Hogwarts student to have it smuggled into the school.  We needed
to intercept the necklace and free Rosmerta to thwart this attempt by Draco.  

This mission was life and death for Harry, as it was unlikely a life sentence
in Azkaban was going to qualify as protected under the terms of Harry's
Unbreakable Vow.  Hopefully, failing in this attempt would convince Draco this
wasn't going to work at all, and to accept Snape's offer to leave Voldemort's
side in the war and accept our attempts to protect him.  

The seven of us allowed in Hogsmeade traveled in a group.  Neville, who still
had to stay behind, hid under his invisibility cloak and watched Draco, who was
serving a detention with McGonagall as an alibi.  On our way to the Three
Broomsticks, we met Tonks, who was holding Mundungus Fletcher by the collar.  

"Got aht locket you ordered, Harry," said Tonks pleasantly.  She tossed
Slytherin's locket, and Harry caught it.  He made to drape it around his neck
when Sloth and I each caught him by an arm.  

"The ring had a curse on it," I said.  "Best put it in a pocket until you can
get it back to the castle for disposal."  

Harry complied, and we all headed into the Three Broomsticks.  When Rosmerta
wasn't anywhere obvious, I released a few of my metal bugs to search for her
while we took a seat and looked inconspicuous.  My bugs reported she was in the
bathroom holding a wrapped package in one hand and her wand in the other.  

The female members of our party entered the bathroom as a group and fired
stunning hexes at Rosmerta.  With her incapacitated, Harry, Ron, and I went
outside and grabbed Tongs.  After swearing secrecy, we told her about Harry's
Unbreakable Vow, and how important it was to protect Malfoy until Voldemort was
dead.  She promised to be discrete with Rosmerta when she took her in to get
help.  

As Harry had another private lesson with Dumbledore the next day, he held on to
the locket so he could show it to Dumbledore before destroying it.  Meanwhile,
we dropped off the cursed necklace with snape, who could hopefully use this
failure to make Draco see reason.  

                                     * * *


I was experimenting with creating a layer of chameleon skin to emulate a
disillusionment charm when Harry reported in on his meeting with Dumbledore. 
Their lesson had concerned Voldemort's childhood in a muggle orphanage.  The
locket had been examined then destroyed using the Sword of Gryffindor, bringing
the total horcurxes destroyed so far to four.  

Snape and Narcissa, meanwhile, had successfully managed to convince Draco that
Voldemort was setting him up to fail, and to let Dumbledore protect him.  He
had enough pull to smooth over Draco's use of an unforgivable curse on Rosmerta
on the grounds that he and his family were under threat from the Dark Lord at
the time.  Snape would continue to observe Draco for signs he was backsliding,
but protecting him, and by extension Harry, just got a lot easier.  

With no more horcrux leads for the moment, and the Draco situation temporarily
contained, I refocused back to my studies.  The NEWT homework, the resumed
daily fencing practice, and my attempts to maintain normal socialization meant
each day had about thirty six hours in it for me, but I was happy.  The
coursework at NEWT level was challenging and my clever applications of alchemy
to duplicate spells were being pushed to the limit.  Essays on advanced magical
theory were finally answering a lot of technical questions I'd had since
starting at Hogwarts, such as how one goes about creating a new spell.  

News of continuing Death Eater attacks continued tricking in, the one mar on
the otherwise enjoyable few months where I could focus on my education.  I
couldn't think of a way to contribute more than I already was.  My abilities
didn't lend themselves to investigation, and that would be what was required to
find the Death Eater hideouts and prevent more muggle killings.  The Ministry
had wizards who could capture or kill their targets once they were found.  

Harry's legilimency training was progressing under Snape.  Harry had progressed
to nonverbal use of the ability, and his practice sessions withe me and the
others were showing obvious improvement.  Harry had a natural tallent for
legilimency, and the struggle to keep him out of our minds during training was
giving us all the chance to improve our occlumency.  Soon, he would be ready to
attempt his first conscious intrusions into the Dark Lord's mind.  

Harry wanted to act soon, and hopefully end the war soon, but Snape was urging
caution in attempting to exploit this link.  As a compromise, Harry agreed to
hold off on any attempts until Dumbledore finished his lessons on Voldemort. 
The idea was, it would help him navigate the Dark Lord's mind once he was in if
he already had some idea what to expect.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Voldemort's attacks typically came on a timetable resulting in him striking at
the end of the school year.  Now that our heroes are being more proactive in
the war, rather than waiting for him to execute his masterstroke, they're
chipping away at Voldemort's power base little by little and strengthening the
light side in similarly small steps.  Being in school is helping with the
morale situation as well, since unlike the tedious, unproductive period in the
canonical seventh book, if they don't have any leads to pursue, they can go
back to their ordinary studies until another lead materializes. 
***** Old Enemies Turned New Allies *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 55) Old Enemies Turned New
Allies
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Things continued on in that vein until the Christmas holiday.  Sloth and I had
been invited, along with Harry, to share Christmas at the Burrow.  The others
had also been invited, but they had their own families to spend the holidays
with.  Molly and Arthur Weasley were putting up Harry's parents so they
wouldn't have to return to Privet Drive.  

We said our goodbyes and took the floo network from McGonagall's office.  The
floo network had been disconnected from Hogwarts as part of the added security,
only reconnected in single points at predetermined times.  It was a tight
squeeze with the whole Weasley family except Charlie there, but we doubled and
tripled up, eventually managing to make it work.  

The Order's efforts to combat the Death Eaters was a typical subject.  Sirius
and Lupin stopped by during the day, but were still sleeping in Grimauld
Place.  Lupin had been trying to get the werewolves to abandon Voldemort's
cause.  Having successfully gotten himself cured during the lunar eclipse, he
was offering them a chance for normalcy.  Unfortunately, there was a faction,
led by the werewolf who had bitten Lupin as a child, Fenrir Greyback, who cared
more about avenging themselves on the Ministry for decades of mistreatment than
they cared about a normal life.  

Bill and Fleur continued with their wedding plans, and Lupin and Tonks were
thinking along similar lines.  Mrs. Weasley continued to argue both couples
were rushing into things, but Ginny pointed out it had been the same with her
and Arthur.  All this talk of wedings brought my mind back to the Mirror of
Erised.  Sloth read my expression and cuddled close to me in the Weasleys'
living room.  

"After graduation," she said, "why don't we stay here long enough to get
married ourselves?"  

"You mean it?" I asked.  

"Of course," she said smiling.  "I know it won't be exactly like you saw in the
mirror, but I think we can do the important bits.  Especially being surrounded
by friends who know what we are and are nothing but happy for us."  

"I guess we'd better finish off this war before graduation then," I said.  "We
don't want a Death Eater attack marring our special day."  

"Oh please," said Sloth, rolling her eyes.  "It would make your day if they
tried to crash the after party and we ended the war then."  

I smiled.  "You know me so well."  I kissed her.  "Even so, getting the timing
that perfect would be just one more thing to worry about.  It would be simpler
to just end the war before."  

"Whatever makes you happy, Greed."  

                                     * * *


On Christmas day, after an exchange of gifts in the morning, we were enjoying
food and company when Rufus Scrimgeour, the new Minister of Magic after Fudge
had been sacked, arrived at the door.  After some pleasantries, it became clear
he waned to speak to Harry privately.  James and Lily accompanied Harry out to
the Weasleys' garden.  Sloth, Ron, Ginny, and I joined Fred and George at an
upstairs window using extendable ears to listen in.  

Scrimgeour took his time getting to the point of his visit.  None of the
Potters helped him along.  Eventually, it came out that he wanted Harry to be
seen at the Ministry to give the public the impression that the chosen one was
coordinating with the Ministry.  He made a serious error mentioning Umbridge's
suggestion that he'd have an easier time after school if he was already making
contacts in the Ministry.  

"I should've hunted down and murdered that woman straight away," said Lily,
incensed that the woman who'd tortured her son was still with the Ministry.  

"Now, Lily," said James pleasantly, "the Minister is here asking for our son's
help.  I'm sure he wasn't foolish enough to come empty handed.  Why, I would
guess that the first thing he intends to offer Harry for his cooperation is to
imprison Dolores Umbridge in Azkaban for her well substantiated crimes against
Hogwarts students.  Isn't that right, Minister?"  

"Dolores Umbridge is a very high ranking-" began Scrimgeour before Harry
interrupted him.  

"If you aren't willing to root the criminals out of high positions in the
Ministry, you're going to lose this war.  The real Death Eaters are all from
prominent, important families, and all have high positions so they can be of
use to Tom.  Arresting folks like Stan Shuntpike is a waste of resources and
undermines your moral authority."  

"Not to mention how skipping over trials led to my best friend imprisoned for
twelve years and the man who really betrayed us to our deaths allowed to roam
free," added James.  

"It would certainly look a lot more like Harry was working with the Ministry if
the Ministry actually listened to what he had to say," added Lily icily.  

It was hard to believe the Potters weren't running the Ministry before their
deaths with how effectively they pressed their advantage with Scrimgeour.  They
were the best advocates Harry could ask for.  By the end of it, they'd talked
Scrimgeour into arresting Umbridge, releasing Shuntpike (the Knight Bus driver
who'd been swept up by the Ministry in an effort to be seen doing something),
repealing Umbridge's antiwerewolf legislation, and conducting a thorough house
cleaning of the Ministry to identify Death Eaters and their servants.  All
Harry needed to do was give an interview with the Daily Prophet announcing
these new policies.  

When Scrimgeor left and the Potters came back inside, they were met with a
round of applause from those of us who had been listening in.  None of them
were upset we'd overheard, and it was broadly agreed they would do the same in
our position.  

James and Lily made sure they were present for Harry's interview and manged to
keep it on point.  Harry was gleefully regaling us with the story when he got
back, musing about how much better that Rita Skeeter, Triwizard Tournament
business would have gone if they'd been there for that.  

                                     * * *


Upon our return to Hogwarts, there was a sign up sheet for Apparition lessons
in our common rooms.  It was a twelve week course held on Saturdays.  I signed
up at once.  I knew I could travel vast distances within a world by using the
Gate, and some extra practice might help me refine that ability as all the
other magic lessons had helped me refine other aspects of my alchemy.  

In Potions the next day, we were called upon to use our wands for the first
time in that class.  We were working on antidotes for mixed poisons, and the
spell would allow us to identify the components.  Fortunately, that was well
within the range of things I could use a red stone to help me determine.  Not
only did I come out ahead on the exercise, the only one to successfully brew an
antidote, but I also got some new ideas on how I might try to brew the Elixir
of Life using plant derived red stones.  

Harry'd had another lesson with Dumbledore, which covered Voldemort killing off
the muggle side of his family, and Voldemort asking Slughorn about horcruxes
when he was in school.  Slughorn had tampered with the memory he provided
Dumbledore, causing parts to be unreadable.  As homework, Dumbledore tasked
Harry with retrieving the full memory.  He suspected that long ago conversation
might shed some light on the pattern to Voldemort's horcruxes.  

This was the reason Slughorn had been brought in to begin with.  Legilimency
wasn't the answer.  If it had been, Dumbledore could've done it himself.  It
had to be down to something about Harry.  I wasn't the only one who thought the
bottle of Felix Felicis I'd lost to Harry because of a prophecy might be the
key.  Harry himself, not wanting to waste the resource, decided to make an
attempt or two on his own merits before resorting to the potion.  

The result was Slughorn canceling his social gatherings and avoiding Harry
outside of classes.  Knowing how close the rest of us were with Harry, Slughorn
took to avoiding us as well.  Eventually, Harry ran out of options.  

"Look, we'll make more," I said after Harry's third failed attempt to talk to
Slughorn.  

"It'd be great to have a stock of it," noted Ron.  

"It takes abotu six months to stew, so I can have the first batch ready in time
for our summer break," I said.  "Meanwhile, I don't think anything else you
might want to use it for until then is as important as that memory."  

"Okay," said Harry.  "Okay, I'll use the potion.  The bottle I won from
Slughorn has enough for twelve hours.  I shouldn't need all that time, so
there'll still be some left in case something comes up."  

"In the meantime, we need to beef up security in the Chamber of Secrets," said
Sloth.  "If a Death Eater manages to raid our Felix Felicis stock, it'll be
worse than when one raided our polyjuice stock."  

"It's in Hogwarts, behind a parseltongue locked secret passage, guarded by a
thousand year old basilisk, with the lab behind a fake wall that doesn't open,"
said Ginny incredulously.  "How could there even be more security?"  

"You know how we've been using the Marauder's Map to make sure everyone who
comes and goes from the castle is who they say they are?" asked Sloth.  "I want
to take it a step farther.  We make an armor servant to monitor the map and
everyone's comings and goings at all hours of the day and night and report
anything suspicious.  

"Moody would be proud," said Harry, handing over the map.  

                                     * * *


"Six horcruxes total," declared Harry the next time we saw him.  "There's the
four we already dealt with.  Dumbledore thinks Tom's snake Nagini is a horcrux
too.  He figures the last one is an artifact of either Godric Gryffindor or
Rowena Ravenclaw.  He's got some sort of lead on the last one, and he's
promised to take me with him when he goes to destroy it."  

"He's checked the hat and the sword, right?" verified Sloth.  

"Yeah," said Harry.  "And he can't think of any other known artifacts from
Gryffindor."  

"Maybe he used the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw," suggested Luna.  

"It's called the Lost Diadem because no one knows where it is," argued
Hermione.  "It hasn't been seen since the founders' time."  

"Which makes it a good choice, since no one would have noticed it going missing
when Tom took it," replied Luna.  

"Whatever it is, hopefully, Dumbledore figures out where it is soon and we can
end this," said Harry.  

"That'll just leave the snake, then Tom can be killed," said Neville.  

"Of course, even with all his horcruxes destroyed, someone still has to fight
him and win," I said.  

"Someone?" asked Harry.  "You heard the prophecy.  It's going to have to be
me."  

"True," I admitted.  "Just don't think you'll be fighting that battle alone. 
We're still going to be there to arm you as best we can and make sure none of
his Death Eaters can back him up when the time comes."  

"Does arming me include making me immortal?" asked Harry.  

"You know the offer's always on the table for you," I replied.  "If you don't
want to wait until you're officially of age, say the word."  

"I suppose it isn't that far away," Harry admitted.  

"We're all behind you," said Ron firmly.  

                                     * * *


The Apparition lessons took place in the Great Hall.  The wards had been
lowered in that area, so students could apparate from one point to another
inside the Great Hall.  Attempting to apparate out of the castle from the Great
Hall, or vice versa, was still impossible, implying that apparition actually
involved crossing the intervening space somehow, and that you couldn't apparate
if your path took you through a warded area, even if both the start and end
points weren't warded.  

The actual lessons were very much trial and error based learning.  After less
than a minute's worth of instruction, we were asked to try it.  We were to
apparate a short distance, under observation by the Ministry's instructor and
our heads of house.  If we splinched ourselves, and left any body parts behind,
the instructors were on hand to quickly reattach them.  Our first lesson saw no
successful apparitions, and one splinching, which was quickly put right.  

Down in my lab after the lesson, next to my large, stewing cauldron of Felix
Felicis, I was seated at my desk going over my notes on the Gate.  The core
problem with using Gate travel to mimic apparition was that the time inside the
Gate, fighting off the Gate Children and navigating to my destination would not
look instant to an outside observer.  I needed a way to make the process faster
and safer.  

I knew from Thule's experiments that faster and safer were related.  That was
why the small jet aircraft that had taken Edward through the Gate had been
completely unaffected, while the slower airships had been made completely
unrecognizable during their transition between worlds.  This world's
understanding of rocketry put Thule's to shame.  I could produce an effect
based on that knowledge that would accelerate a traveler fast enough to avoid
the grasping hands of the Gate Children.  

The trouble was opening the Gate on the other side.  My previous experience
involved using the Truth pouring through me to navigate to my destination. 
Properly emulating apparition would involve encoding the destination and the
path through the gate to reach it into the initial alchemy used to open the
Gate.  

In the Chamber of Secrets, I prepared two arrays.  Sloth and I would both open
the Gate at the same time, and I would attempt to map the path between.   After
several runs of the experiment, I would attempt to send an object though along
a predetermined path, and out at the selected location.  Once I could do this,
it would be a simple matter to do it to myself.  

The experimentation process was such that both Sloth and I ended up spending
twenty four hours of every day for the next month working on this.  It would
have no doubt taken far longer if our background knowledge about the Gate had
been less.  Finally, in early February, we had it.  

I clapped my hands, and a blue transmutation circle appeared over my head.  It
slid down my body in less than a second.  An identical circle appeared
elsewhere in the room, and slid up, revealing me, with my hands still clasped,
before disappearing above my head.  I could only use this method to travel
within a single world, but not only did the process mean I was safe from the
Gate Children while doing so, but my exposure to the Truth was also limited,
reducing the disorientation of Gate travel.  Another advantage was that wards
against apparition didn't stop this, akin got how they were ineffective at
stopping phoenixes and house elves.  

                                     * * *


Spiders kept making appearances in my predictions in Divination class.  If I
was reading the signs right, who's side the spiders came down on was going to
matter.  I was still holding a grudge against Aragog and his brood for trying
to kil us, and I expected the feeling was mutual with the number of acromantula
I killed getting us out.  

"Hagrid, can we talk about Aragog?" I asked in Care of Magical Creatures.  

"He's been getting worse," said Hagrid with a tremble in his voice.  "I been
bringing him grubs, but lately he's been eating less and less."  

"Did he ever tell you what happened when you were in Azkaban a few years back?"
I asked.  

"Why do you have to go bringing that up at a time like this?" asked Hagrid. 
"He knows he did wrong, and he regrets what happened."  

"I just need to know he'll never let something like that happen again," I
said.  "Especially if I'm going to give him this."  I took a vial of red liquid
from my robe's inner pocket.  

"What's that?" asked Hagrid.  

"The Elixir of Life," I said.  "My Philosopher's Stone was destroyed back in
first year, so this is actually experimental.  I can't go into details, but I'm
pretty sure this has the same properties as an Elixer produced by a real
Philosopher's Stone.  I could only procure the ingredients for this one dose,
and I don't want to waste it."  

"Do you think if we save Aragog, we can get him and the acromantula colony in
the forest properly on our side in the war?" asked Sloth.  

"I can vouch for Aragog," said Hagrid immediately.  

"Actually, I wanted to talk to him directly," I said.  

"We can go now," said Hagrid.  

So, the three of us entered the Forbidden Forest.  Hagrid led the way to the
acromantula colony.  With Hagrid with us, none of the spiders attacked as we
walked up to the web done.  I couldn't make out much of the chatter among the
massive crowd of giant spiders,but I got the sense some of them recognized
Sloth and I.  

Aragog was too weak and too ill to come out of his den, so the three of us went
in.  His white, unseeing eyes were watery and crusted.   The grey hairs that
covered his body had thinned and fallen out in patches.  His legs were too weak
to support his massive bulk.  

"Aragog," called Hagrid gently, "are you awake?"  

"I am, Hagrid," replied Aragog.  His voice sounded as weak as he looked.  

"I brought someone with medicine that might make you feel better," said Hagrid,
placing a comforting hand on the creature's body.  

"Do you rmember me, Aragog?" I asked less gently.  "The last time we met, I
warned you to call off your children.  You didn't listen and some of htem
died."  

"I remember," said Aragog.  

"If I give you the medicine, I'll have your word that you and your children
will do no harm to the inhabitants of the castle.  Not the students.  Not the
staff.  On the grounds.  In the forest.  Or right here in the center of your
nest.  Are we agreed?"  

"You're not asking for their help defending the castle?" asked Sloth.  

"The signs say they can't help but get involved," I explained.  "If the Death
Eaters go to lay siege to the castle, they'll want to set up camp in the
forest.  They'll either end up fighting the acromantula, or they'll try to get
them to fight us.  Aragog's word they won't harm our people is enough."  

"You have my word," said Aragog.  

I raised the small bottle of blood red elixir to the giant spider's mouth.  The
effect was instantaneous.  Grey hairs darkened.  Wasted limbs thickened.  His
body seemed to inflate and I only then noticed how thin he'd become.  As the
king of the spiders rose to his feet, the thick white cataracts that had
blinded the giant spider long ago faded away, leaving his eight eyes black and
healthy.  

"Aragog?" asked Hagrid.  

"I am well, Hagrid," said Aragog, his voice strong.  "Thank you for bringing
them to me."  

"Now, don't you go making me look like a fool for taking them round," said
Hagrid as he wrapped his arms around Aragog's head and shed enormous tears into
his fur.  

"I do regret what transpired between us years ago, friends of Hagrid," said
Aragog, "and not just because of the children I lost that day.  You came to me
seeking to help Hagrid, nad for that reason alone, I should have restrained my
children."  

"Why don't we call this a fresh start?" asked Sloth.  

Aragog nodded as Hagrid continued to sob tears of relief that his old friend
would be all right.  If he could let go of the old grudge when his side had
suffered the worse end of what happened, I decided I could do the same.  Still,
for the sake of making sure, I raised my voice and said one more thing as we
prepared to depart.  

"I hope, for their sake that your children will be bound by your word, Aragog. 
Because if they choose to forget this new promise of friendship, they should
know that the castle and those within it are under the protection of Salazar
Slytherin's basilisk."  

"A bit unnecessary, don't you think?" asked Hagrid as the entire colony fell
silent and stepped back a pace.  

"The last time I was here, they ignored a warning from me," I said.  "I'm
hoping they remember what happened then when the Death Eaters come to lay
siege."  

"Speaking of which," said Sloth as we headed back to the castle, "you should
make plans to evacuate the acromantula and the centaurs to the protection of
the castle before that happens."  

"They barely tolerate each other when they've got the whole forest to share,"
said Hagrid.  "You'll never get them to stay cooped up in the castle together,
and that's forgetting that they don't like humans much either."  

"The point of a castle is to be a place to evacuate people nearby to in times
of danger," I said.  "We have to try."  

"You're good people," said Hagrid, pulling both Sloth and I into a firm bear
hug.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Use of divination as a plot device to motivate characters into an action they
wouldn't otherwise be inclined to do is something best used sparingly.  Still,
if it's not used at all, there's not much point to the ability existing in the
first place. 
***** Romantic Interlude 24 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 56) Romantic Interlude 24
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 57.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


"I've been thinking," I said to Sloth when we were alone together in our lab. 
"It feels like we're in a calm before the storm.  Once the castle's full to
bursting with refugees, it's going to be harder to disappear someplace
private."  

"Harder, but not impossible," said Sloth.  "We're both very smart, very
determined people."  

"Even so, once the fighting begins in earnest, both of us are going to need to
put our efforts towards ending it."  

"There are bound to be quiet moments," said Sloth.  

"I'm sure there will be," I agreed, "but I've been thinking about something I
think you'll really enjoy that'll probably have to wait until after the war if
we don't do it during this lull."  

Sloth smiled at me and said, "I'm listening."  

I flipped open my watch, looked at the time, and pointed at an empty spot in
the room.  A second Sloth appeared.  She was naked except for the chain of her
pocket watch wrapped around her waist.  Her wrists and ankles were red and
chafed.  Dried cum was in her bangs, and more recent ejaculate was dribbling
from between her legs.  

"Meet yourself from next week," I said.  I opened a door revealing a room like
the one I'd prepared in the Shrieking Shack the previous year.  Transmutation
circles on the walls, floor, and ceiling, shutting down a homunculus' ability
to use red stones, shutting down our ability to shape shift, to regenerate, and
to wield more strength than our muscles would allow.  Chains attached to the
floor and ceiling were inscribed with circles to prevent her Ultimate Escape.  

"Wait, do you mean...?" started the earlier iteration of Sloth.  

"Yes," said her future self.  "You get chained up down here all week.  I go up
and attend classes so you won't fall behind or be missed."  

"Meanwhile, I'll come down and make use of you whenever it's convenient for
me," I said.  

"With my frequent assistance and participation," added future Sloth.  

Past Sloth's eyes were wide as she took in the proposition I'd made, as well as
her future self who's presence indicated she was going to agree to spend a week
in chains.  Her mouth gradually curled into an eager smile and she nodded to
me.  

I clapped and the chains snaked out, clasped around her wrists and ankles, then
jerked her back into the room.  Meanwhile, the free Sloth clapped her hands and
cleaned herself up.  I stripped the bound Sloth naked and bent down to lick her
moistening pussy.  I'd barely gotten a taste when the free Sloth clasped me
around the arm and pulled me back.  

"Anticipation, remember," she said, sparing a glance up at her bound self. 
"Let's head back up top for now.  You can do everything to her next time we
come down here."  

"What's the point of having a chained up sex slave if I can't use her when I
want?" I asked.  

"Don't worry, Greed," said the future Sloth.  "Just because she needs to let
her anticipation build doesn't mean you have to be deprived.  Here, I'll suck
your dick while she watches.  That'll get her even more hot and bothered,
which'll make waiting for her first use even worse."  

She began to lick the shaft of my penis, making sure her past self got a good
view.  The bound Sloth was staring, looking affronted, betrayed, and aroused. 
While the free Sloth sucked on my balls, the bound one spoke to her future
self.  

"Why are you being so mean?"  

"I'm getting revenge," said the other Sloth, pausing in her efforts, "on the
girl who did the exact same thing to me a week ago."  

Then she wrapped her lips around the head of my penis and stared to suck hard. 
I stared at her bound past self who squirmed uncomfortably in her chains.  She
blushed from head to toe as I continued to stare at her body while her future
self swallowed my cum.  After that, we got up and left, closing the door behind
us, leaving the chained up girl to stew.  

The next day, I made it up to her by using my time turner to be in two places
at once.  I double penetrated the bound Sloth, anally and vaginally, while the
free Sloth laid down on her back and masturbated while she watched. 
Immediately after satisfying the Sloth in chains, I spit roasted the free Sloth
for the viewing pleasure of the bound one, suspending her body by the penises
in her mouth and vagina.  When I let her down from her spit roast, the free
Sloth, with her mouth still full of cum, climbed up the chained Sloth and
kissed her, passing my cum between her selves, and grinding against herself.  I
closed the evening by penetrating both of them anally while they made out with
each other.  

My mind drifted to the bound Sloth downstairs during classes, so I slipped down
during my break more then once just long enough to shove my dick inside her and
cum.  When  went down there with the unbound Sloth, I didn't touch the chained
one.  I just fucked the free Sloth's pussy from behind as she performed
cunnilingus on her past self.  

We cleaned the tied up Sloth using alchemy every other day or so, usually
involving both the free Sloth and myself groping the chained up one as we made
out with each other.  After that first day, no effort was made by the future
Sloth to even suggest I shouldn't perform some sex act on her bound past self. 
She encouraged me to use my imagination, and assured me that both versions of
herself were loving every minute of this.  

I was groping and kissing a freshly cleaned bound Sloth while her future self
sucked me off when an idea occurred to me.  After we finished what we were
doing, I took the free Sloth into the next room and explained my idea.  As she
was from the future, it was unnecessary, but I liked explaining it and she
thought I was cute when I was explaining things anyway.  

I shape shifted into a two sided tentacle and slid between her legs and into
her vagina.  Sloth rubbed the end sticking out of her vagina with both hands
until I came.  Delighted, she walked back into the room, stroking me as she
went, then wrapped her arms and legs around the chained up girl.  She pushed me
into her past self's vagina while she kissed and groped her restrained
partner.  Squeezed inside the vaginas of two four year old girls at once, being
used by one girl as a tool to fuck the other one, I was quickly cumming out of
both ends.  Pulling me out of her past self's vagina, Sloth stroked me until I
was hard again, then used me to fuck the chained up child up the ass.  

With the last day of her bondage, I used my time turner to spend it with her. 
The me that stayed shape shifted into a mass of tentacles, and spent the entire
day penetrating her in every orifice and groping her naked body.  The me that
went to class stopped by during breaks, pulled a tentacle out of whatever
orifice he felt like using and came inside before replacing the tentacle.  The
free Sloth also stopped by once, pulling the tentacle out of her past self's
mouth, inserting it into her vagina while she made out with herself.  

Finally, after a week chained up as a sex slave, I wrapped the chain of her
pocket watch around her waist.  Twisting the knob, the chains fell loose and
that Sloth disappeared into the past.  The one Sloth remaining clapped her
hands and cleaned up this room, leaving no evidence of chains or sealing
arrays.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
While I'd considered extending this out a bit more, I think much more detail
would get boring and repetitive to read. 
***** A Change in Leadership *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 57) A Change in Leadership
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Ron's birthday was on a Hogsmeade weekend.  Tonks knew about the Unbreakable
Vow Harry'd made, so she was keeping watch over Draco as well as Harry while we
were out of the school.  Fred and George were in Hogsmeade looking into
expanding their business with a location that was Hogwarts adjacent.  

I managed to get Ron away from the improvised party in the Three Broomsticks
long enough to remind him that since he was of age now, he might consider
getting his homunculus body and no longer relying on the silver arm Dumbledore
had conjured.  He agreed that we'd do it that night before returning to the
festivities.  

We met in the Chamber of Secrets.  I would perform the human transmutation and
make the soul attachment for him, since doing this on your own is only
recommended if you have no one you can trust.  I started by transferring Ron's
soul into a coin, then I added some material to a pile on top of his corpse.  I
opened the Gate and made his new body, successfully fending off the Gate
Children as I did so.  The twisted creature I'd produced was taking labored
breaths.  I attached Ron's soul and started getting red stones into his mouth
as fast as he could eat them.  

"How are you feeling?" I asked when he'd regained human form.  

"That hurt so much more than getting my arm ripped off in the first place,"
said Ron.  

"I know," I said empathetically.  "When I did it, I didn't have anyone to feed
me red stones.  Took me weeks to cross the room and figure out how to feed
myself."  

"I feel okay now," added Ron.  "So, I'm like you now?"  

I pointed to the oroboros mark on his stomach.  "I waited on Hermione since I
thought you'd want to do it.  Make sure you have enough red stones in you to
regenerate whatever they take from you."  

"There's no way to skip over the painful first part, is there?" confirmed Ron.
 

"No," I said.  "The soul needs to be attached at that point or the body won't
know it has to eat.  Or worse, it will know because you made a mistake and made
it independently sentient instead of a blank vessel for a soul."  

"Right," said Ron.  

Suddenly, Moaning Myrtle burst in.  "Professor Snape's outside.  He says he
needs to come in and talk."  

"It's after midnight," said Ron, checking his watch.  "Is he here to give us a
detention for being out so late?"  

"He wouldn't need to come down here to tell us that," I said.  "Hell, I doubt
the hourglass can detect points being taken away behind all Slytherin's wards."
 

"It's definitely him," said Ron after a quick look at the Marauder's Map.  "I
guess we'd best let him in."  

Myrtle led us back up the pipe to where Snape was standing in the bathroom. 
His eyes were darting around to every corner.  I'd never seen him so nervous. 
I dreaded finding out what could so unnerve a man who could keep his cool
spying on Voldemort.  Myrtle resumed her watch as Ron and I led Snape into the
Chamber of Secrets.  Snape didn't say a word until the heavily warded doors
were locked behind us.  

"Are we alone?" asked Snape.  

"Just the three of us and Slytherin's basilisk," I said, pointing at the giant
serpent in mirrored goggles and pink earmuffs.  

"With all his resources, Professor Dumbledore was never able to penetrate this
place," said Snape.  "We'll have to hope it remains secure from his
observations."  

"Why do we need to hide from Professor Dumbledore?" asked Ron.  

"Because the headmaster is trying to kill Harry Potter," said Snape.  "It's
been part of his plan to defeat Tom all along.  Harry is a horcrux, and
Dumbledore intends him to die to make Tom vulnerable."  

"That's insane," I said.  "There's got to be another way.  Maybe use the
Resurrection Stone somehow."  

"Wait, how can Harry be a horcrux?" asked Ron.  "And if he were one, why would
Tom try to kill Harry as often as he did?  Wouldn't he want to keep Harry
safe?"  

"The Dark Lord does not know," said Snape.  "When the curse he tried to use on
Harry years ago backfired, a piece of his soul broke off and attached to
Harry.  Tom's soul was so unstable from his previous horcruxes that he didn't
notice."  

"That makes sense," I said.  "If Dumbledore's right about the order, Tom had
five horcruxes when he tried to kill Harry.  A soul in six parts will be drawn
to a more stable equilibrium of seven."  

"Why?" asked Ron.  

"Think of it like valence electrons," I told him.  "In six parts, his soul
gravitated toward the most magically stable configuration during the shock of
his curse backfiring. This is evidence in favor of the theory on the number of
horcruxes."  

"As fascinating an intellectual exercise as this is, perhaps we could return to
your friend being targeted for death by the two most powerful wizards in the
world," snarked Snape.  

"Obviously we're not letting that happen," said Ron.  

"Okay, the first step is to verify Dumbledore's theory," I said.  "If Harry
really is a horcrux, his soul will be quantifiably different from normal and 
won't be able to attach it to a coin, same as I couldn't do to Tom."  

"Which means he can't become a homunculus," said Ron.  

"Which will leave him more vulnerable to the two powerful wizards who want him
dead," said Snape.  

"We can convince Dumbledore there's another way," I said.  

"Such as?" asked Snape.  

"Off the top of my head?  Have Harry make a horcrux using the piece of Tom's
soul, then immediately destroy that horcrux," I suggested.  

"The requirements for splitting the soul is murder, not mere killing," noted
Snape.  "Even if Potter had it in him, how would you control which piece broke
off?"  

"Are you on Harry's side or not?" snapped Ron.  

"I have spent the past fifteen years working to keep the boy alive," declared
Snape.  

"You only met him five years ago," I said.  

"There are things you don't know," said Snape.  

"Okay, the real first thing we have to do is tell Harry," said Ron.  He pulled
out his communication mirror.  

"We should call in the others too," I said.  "Along with anyone who's more
loyal to Harry than Dumbledore."  

                                     * * *


Within an hour, a large round table with chairs had been set up in the Chamber
of Secrets.  Harry, Hermione, Neville, Sloth, Luna, and Ginny had been the
first to arrive.  James, Lily, and Sirius were the next to arrive, having
clearly dropped whatever they were doing to answer the summons.  The Weasleys
were close behind: Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, and George. 
Fleur came with Bill.  Lupin and Tonks were the last to arrive.  

"All right, we're here," said James.  "You said this was about Harry being in
danger."  

"No one passed on word about this meeting to anyone not on the list?" I
verified.  

There were general murmurs of assent.  

"What I have recently learned," began Snape, "goes back to the day the Dark
Lord's curse backfired.  When the Dark Lord was torn from his body, a piece of
his soul came loose and attached itself to Harry.  His ability to speak
parseltongue by instinct and his unique connection to the Dark Lord's mind are
because he is an unintentional horcrux."  

"How do you know that?" demanded Bill.  

Snape replied, "Professor Dumbledore has known since that night, and has
gathered more evidence in the intervening years.  Tonight, he confided in me."
 

"But if I'm anchoring Tom's soul to this world..." said Harry.  

"Dumbledore intends for you to die to make the Dark Lord vulnerable," finished
Snape.  

"I did not die for Harry just so he could be sacrificed to win a war," shouted
Lily.  

"Nor did I," added James.  

"Everyone here would give their life for Harry," said Snape.  "That's why you
were the ones called."  

"What do you mean?" asked Fleur.  

"We brought you here to help us save Harry from Tom and Dumbledore," I
explained.  

"Not to question your word, Severus," said Arthur, "but do we have any proof of
this?"  

"Those of you who've become homunculi know what this is," I said, holding up a
soul coin.  "It only works on a subject who has one point zero soul.  It
doesn't work on Tom because he split part of his soul off to make his
horcruxes.  If this is right, it won't work on Harry either, because he'll have
one point something instead.  His own soul, plus the fraction of Tom's."  

I slid the coin across the table to Harry.  He gingerly picked the coin up by
its edge, then steeled himself and pressed it to the back of his left hand. 
Nothing happened.  Harry was a horcrux.  

"Well, I think we all know what we have to do," said Lily as she got to her
feet and drew her wand.  

                                     * * *


A slew of lethal and disabling curses filled the air in Dumbledore's office. 
Fawkes was hit early, bursting into flames and emerging from the ashes as a
tiny chick.  Dumbledore himself had been bending down behind his desk to
retrieve a dropped quill when our party kicked open his door.  

"You aren't getting my son killed!" yelled Lily as she obliterated Dumbledore's
desk with a reducto curse.  

Dumbledore threw up a shield spell and yelled back, "I can explain!"  

"Adava Kedavra!" yelled Snape.  The green bolt of death missed Dumbledore's
head by a hair's breadth.  

"Please, if you will just listen," Dumbledore said as he blocked, dodged, and
evaded the curses that continued to fly.  

Fleur extinguished Dumbledore's fireplace while Hermione went around putting
unbreakable charms on Dumbledore's windows, cutting off his means of escape. 
The number of curses filling the air made it look like there was a fireworks
display going off.  Somehow, Dumbledore managed to duck, dodge, avoid, or block
every spell.  On the plus side, doing so left him too busy to counterattack.  

"I presume you told them about Harry, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.  

"Yes.  Sectumsempra!"  A deep gouge was cut into a bookcase behind Dumbledore's
head by Snape's curse, as though it had been cleaved with a sword.  

"Harry's going to live through this war!" yelled James, firing another near
miss at Dumbledore.  

"I broke out of Azkaban to protect him," declared Sirius as he unleashed a wall
of cursed fire at Dumbledore.  The flames molded themselves into a snarling
approximation of Sirius' animagus form and leapt at Dumbledore, who performed
the countercurse and extinguished the flames.  

"There are things I haven't told you, Severus," said Dumbledore, ducking under
a red stunning hex.  

"What else is new?" shouted Snape in frustration as he sent another green
killing curse at the headmaster.  

"Anything we need to know, we can figure out for ourselves," declared Lupin
launching a disarming spell.  

"There is a way to destroy the horcrux without permanent harm to Harry,"
Dumbledore said as he waved between two sectumsempra curses fired by Snape and
Lily.  

"If that's true, why wasn't that your plan to begin with?" demanded Charlie as
he launched a coordinated set of stunners with Bill and Percy which Dumbledore
blocked with a shield charm.  

"That was my plan," said Dumbledore as he hopped to avoid a curse from Fleur
that had been aimed low in an attempt to get under his guard.  

"You told Snape otherwise," I noted, transmuting a nest of spikes from the
stone floor under his feet.  Somehow, the old wizard's body ended up contorted
between them, rendering him immobile but unharmed.  My spikes got in the way of
the remaining curses, losing large chunks of their mass from the impacts.  Not
only did they shield Dumbledore from the curses, but they broke apart
immediately once they had done so.  

That was not skill.  That was not Dumbledore's wand being faster and stronger
than any other wand.  That was luck on a level that had only one explanation. 
As the curses stopped flying, Snape asked the question that had already formed
in my mind.  

"How long have you been taking felix felicis?"  

Straightening up and smiling now that the situation had switched from lethal
curses to conversation, Dumbledore said, conversationally, "A shade over fifty
years."  

Lily was the first to recover from the fits of sputtering to declare, "Albus,
that's impossible!  Felix felicis is toxic in those quantities!"  

"True," said Dumbledore as he waved his wand and repaired his splintered
furniture.  "Giddiness, recklessness, dangerous overconfidence.  Pleasant as
the first side effect may be, the later two have killed more wizards than all
the dark lords in history combined.  The trick, I've learned, is not to stop
drinking it."  

"Because the luck you get from the potion shields you from the consequences of
your reckless overconfidence," finished Sloth.  

"Fifty years" said Arthur Weasley.  "That would mean..."  

"I began my regimen just before my duel with the dark lord Grindewald,"
finished Dumbledore.  

"So your potion and his wand canceled each other out," I guessed.  

"I was always a shade more skilled than he," said Dumbledore.  

"Can we get back to the subject of removing the horcrux without killing me?"
asked Harry.  

"I had hoped to accomplish considerably more than just saving your life, you
understand, Harry," began Dumbledore.  "Had you trusted me to see this through
believing you would die, that act would have broken Lord Voldemort's power more
completely than it was when he failed to kill you.  That act of self sacrifice
for the sake of your friends, family, and all those you love would have granted
them the same protection your mother's sacrifice gave you.  You had to remain
ignorant for it to work.  You had to believe you were dying for their sakes to
trigger the protection."  

"That explains why you didn't tell us this straight away," said James.  "Now
that's no longer possible, it's time you explained the rest."  

"Do you recall the blood ritual Lord Voldemort used to restore himself?" asked
Dumbledore, taking a seat.  "Using your blood, Harry, strengthened the
connection between you, and as a result, he serves as just as much of an anchor
to you as you do to him."  

"So, he's like a horcrux to me too?" confirmed Harry.  "When I die, I'll...
linger... as a shade like him?  'Less than the meanest ghost'?"  

"Better, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling broadly.  "Unlike Lord Voldemort,
your soul is intact, and that opens up options for you that he gave up in his
pursuit of immortality.  If your body were still intact, as is the case with
say, the killing curse, you could, in theory, just open your eyes back up and
get on with life."  

"You couldn't have prepared that," said Tonks.  

"No, I couldn't," said Dumbledore.  "At first, my intention was simply to delay
Lord Voldemort's return indefinitely, or at least until a way to vanquish him
without destroying his horcruxes was found, since I couldn't ask Harry to die
for the cause.  Then Sybill's second prophecy came and Wormtail escaped, and I
feared there might be no choice.  Then Lord Voldemort's choice of ritual and
sacrifice came, the absolute greatest stroke of luck in my career.  That's when
I started seeking out the other horcruxes in earnest."  

"Which explains why you took so long," said Molly chidingly.  

"Okay, so, once the other horcruxes are destroyed, someone removes the one from
me with a killing curse, and then we can finish Tom," said Harry.  "If we're
right, we only have the snake and one more to go."  

"Why not confirm that, Potter?" asked Snape.  

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.  

"I mean, you've reached the point in your legilimency training that you can
attempt to exploit your connection to the Dark Lord and attempt to penetrate
his secrets," said Snape.  

"You have been teaching Harry legilimency, Severus?" said Dumbledore in a
disappointed tone.  "I told you no good could come of such an attempt."  

"I just tried as hard as I could to kill you," said Snape.  "It really should
be obvious I'm not obeying your orders anymore.  And I especially don't trust
in the good judgement of a man who's been on felix felicis for fifty years."  

"Speaking of which, Harry should take some before the legilimency attempt," I
said.  "Give him every advantage we can while he's in there."  

"Just during those tries, though," warned Neville.  "You don't want to get
dependent on the stuff."  

"Can I ask a question?" asked Luna.  "How did you beat a wand made by Death
with a good luck potion?"  

"I don't believe any of the three Deathly Hallows were truly made by Death,"
said Dumbledore.  "I believe the three brothers in the story were the Peverell
brothers, and that rather than win them from Death, they made them themselves."
 

"Does anyone else have anything they need to say?" asked Lupin after an awkward
pause.  

"I do," said Dumbledore.  "As Severus pointed out, you all tried to kill me.  I
can't really expect you to follow my orders after that.  So, I believe it is
time I retired as the head of the Order of the Phoenix.  I will, of course,
remain at your disposal in the continuing effort to defeat Lord Voldemort, and
with your leave, I shall resume my pursuit of the remaining horcrux."  

"Yes, that would be lovely, Albus," said Lily without a trace of irony. 
"Meanwhile, Severus, would you mind terribly waiting until tomorrow to start
having Harry probe the Dark Lord's mind.  It is a school night and we've kept
Harry up late enough as it is."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
All the lucky breaks that seemed to dry up for the heroes after Dumbledore's
death.  All the improbable plans that no human being could have possibly
thought through in the detail required.  And the childlike giddiness Dumbledore
always displayed.  Frankly, felix felicis seemed like the only way to make
sense of all this without resorting to the evil Dumbledore hypothesis, which I
never really liked. 
***** The New Plan *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 58) The New Plan
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


There was no further discussion of our attempt to murder Dumbledore, and
apparently no hard feelings.  When I asked a couple days later, he said that
our hearts had been in the right place and admitted it hadn't looked good. 
After that conversation, he was back off pursuing his lead on the horcrux.  

Harry, meanwhile with considerable legilimency practice under his belt, and a
carefully calibrated dose of felix felicis administered by Snape, had been able
to tentatively confirm the six total horcruxes theory.  Or rather, the six plus
Harry theory as he also corroborated Dumbledore's belief that Voldemort didn't
know Harry was a horcrux.  They didn't dare probe any deeper and risk Voldemort
realizing Harry was there and looking for horcrux information specifically.  

Classes continued as though Harry hadn't just usurped Dumbledore as the de
facto leader of the light, including his private lessons with Dumbledore, where
he witnessed the memory of Voldemort applying for the defense position shortly
before the war.  Dumbledore's refusal had led to the curse on the defense
position, which we hoped had been lifted for Snape's sake.  

We had a good few weeks of normalcy while various aspects of the war effort
were in a holding pattern.  Strangely, Ron reported that he continued to feel
hungry after his homunculus transformation.  Checking with Hermione, she said
the same.  I'd made so many homunculi, I wasn't short of test subjects, so soon
I'd made a significant discovery. Wizards fueled their magic off normal food,
and continued to do so after becoming homunculi.  Further, refraining from
magic use slowed, but did not stop their hunger.  If I ever did gain magic, it
would mean needing to worry about starvation again.  

Ron wasn't nearly as interested in the implications of this discovery on the
road to zeroing in on the source and nature of magic itself.  Instead, he was
so worried about not being able to pass his apparition test that he was trying
to convince me to share my alchemy equivalent.  Ordinarily, I'd be fine with
it, but I was worried if I did teach him this now, he'd never master actual
apparition.  Sadly, even with a lot of extra practice, Ron ended up failing his
first apparition test by splinching off half an eyebrow.  For coming so close,
I gave him the details of my method.  Upon hearing them, he promptly decided to
stick with conventional apparition.  

Charms was still the one class I couldn't do everything in as we approached
exams.  I took some heart in the fact that most of the sixth year NEWT students
still couldn't do nonverbal spells, but he handful of charms that just couldn't
be duplicated with alchemy continued to weigh on me.  My mind was constantly on
what I'd learned about food fueling magic, hoping that if I could crack the
puzzle of how to give myself magic before exams, I could train up those spells
and be okay.  

I was still dwelling on that thought in Divination when Professor Trelawney
issued me an ominous prediction.  "You will achieve your goal, but only after
losing that which is most precious to you."  A quick glance at the patronus pin
Sloth was still wearing and all worry about exams was driven from my mind by
the reality that we were both intimately involved in a wizard war.  

Even with multiple prophecies of doom hanging over her head, Sloth refused to
be left behind when Dumbledore reported in that he had found what he believed
to be the hiding place of the last horcrux.  It was a sea cave in which Tom had
tortured some children with magic before coming to Hogwarts.  Given the unknown
nature of the threats within, Harry agreed to an escort consisting of myself,
Sloth, Dumbledore, Ron, and Hermione.  He didn't want Ginny, Neville, or Luna
endangered since they weren't of age yet, and thus hadn't been made homunculi. 
He pointed to the prophecy when they tried to protest the hypocrisy of him
going.  

The Sword of Gryffindor was strapped to Harry's side so the horcrux could be
disposed of immediately.  Then we were off, apparating with Dumbledore to the
entrance to the cave.  Each of us appeared on a different rock jutting out of
the water.  Dumbledore led us along the slippery rocks until we reached the
bare cliff face.  

Pointing down, Dumbledore directed us into the water.  He and Harry put up
bubble head charms while we homunculi just held our breath.  Together, we spam
through the ice and cold water.  Wandlight helped us navigate the dark tunnel
until we emerged into the otherwise pitch black cave beyond.  Once out of the
water, we dried off and began to examine our surroundings.  It was a roundish
cave with untooled blank walls.  

"Yes, this is the place," said Dumbledore.  

"How can you tell?" asked Harry.  

"It has known magic," replied Dumbledore.  

"How can you tell that?" asked Ron.  

"Magic always leaves traces," said Dumbledore, falling into the role of teacher
with ease, "sometimes very distinct traces.  I taught Tom Riddle.  I know his
style."  

"Do you mean you can sense the presence of magical energy or something?" I
asked.  "That wasn't on the curriculum."  

"No, it isn't," said Dumbledore.  "It is really more of a knack that develops
with time and experience than something suited to a class room.  Particularly a
classroom in as magically saturated a location as Hogwarts."  

He started running his fingertips along the wall until he found what he was
looking for.  He took a step back, pointed his wand, and the outline of a
hidden door glowed brilliantly.  He let the light die down and stared at the
rock wall.  "Oh, surely not.  So crude," said Dumbledore when he completed his
analysis.  

"What is it, Professor?" asked Harry.  

"I rather think that we are required to make payment to pass," said Dumbledore
pulling a knife out of his robes.  

Sloth closed a restraining hand around Dumbledore's wrist.  "Do you really
think it's a good idea to leave Tom with a bit of our blood?  He's used blood
magic against us before."  

"What do you recommend instead?" asked Dumbledore.  

In reply, Sloth dragged Dumbledore through the wall right next to the door.  I
stepped through myself and Sloth ferried the others through the solid stone
with her powers.  The room we emerged into was utterly devoid of light save for
a green glow further on.  Wand light didn't reach as far as it should,
suggesting the darkness was magical in origin.  

The glow was coming from a small island in the middle of a glass smooth lake. 
Dumbledore began strolling around the edge of the lake, sensing and probing the
area's magic.  

"Professor," said Harry, "do you think the horcrux is here?"  

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore confidently.  "Yes, I'm sure it is.  The question is,
how do we get to it?"  

"We couldn't just try a summoning charm?" suggested Harry.  

"We certainly could," said Dumbledore stopping suddenly as though the thought
hadn't occurred to him.  "Why don't you do it?"  

"Acio horcrux!" called Harry.  

A human corpse leapt out of the lake between Harry and the green glow,
interposing its body in the way of the spell and acting like an unliving shield
charm.  The water resumed its glassy smooth quality once it fell beneath the
surface once again.  

"An inferus," gasped Hermione.  

"There's more of them under the water," reported Ron, aiming his wand light
toward the water.  "Oh my God, it's full of them."  

"The protective spells used to improve their combat effectiveness let them
block Harry's summoning charm," I said, considering.  

"We're going to have to fight an army of inferi?" asked Harry, alarmed.  

"This brings me back," I said, smiling nostalgically at Sloth.  "Do you
remember?  Our first fight."  

"How could I forget?" she said.  "It was the first time I'd ever been so much
as challenged, let alone foiled.  I expect you to do a lot better against these
ones."  

"Wait, what?" asked Ron.  

"I used to be the bad guy, remember?" said Sloth.  "Greed and I met when I was
helping a serial killer use soul attachments on corpses to make something like
inferi.  He stopped me, and that started our rivalry."  

"So, you've got experience fighting these things?" confirmed Harry.  

"Harry, Snape assigned us an essay about fighting them this year," said
Hermione, exasperated.  "They're vulnerable to fire."  

"Which Tom's thought of," I noted, "keeping them safe underwater until the
moment to attack."  

"Why haven't they attacked yet?" asked Harry.  

"I believe they have been assigned to keep the horcrux in its resting place,
and will not attack until we try to remove it," said Dumbledore.  "Still, I
would advise you not touch the water."  

"You don't think the horcrux is at the bottom of the lake?" asked Harry.  

"Oh, no," said Dumbledore as he resumed his stroll.  "I think the horcrux is in
the middle."  

"So why are we walking around?" asked Sloth.  

"Voldemort would have needed to create a means to cross the lake without
attracting the wrath of those inferi he had placed within it in case he ever
wanted to visit or remove his horcrux.  Aha."  Dumbledore stopped and groped in
midair for something unseen.  

Closing his hands around something invisible, he tapped it with his wand and
caused it to glow green, revealing the outline of a chain.  With another tap of
his wand, he caused the chain to reel in, raising a small boat to the surface.
 

"It looks like it was meant for one person," said Harry.  "It won't hold all of
us."  

"Voldemort will not have cared about the weight, but about the amount of
magical power that crossed his lake.  I rather think an enchantment will have
been placed upon this boat so that only one wizard at a time will be able to
sail in it.  I do not think you will count, Harry.  You are underage and
unqualified."  

"It doesn't matter," I said.  "We don't need the boat."  I stomped my foot and
a wave of blue alchemic light passed over the lake, freezing it into a single
block of ice.  "Inferi are strong, but even they won't be able to move when
fully encased in thick ice.  Plus, now we can all just walk to the island."  

I was right.  Beneath the ice, the inferi were making an effort to move as we
walked across, but the ice held them fast.  At the center of the lake, an
elevated basin contained a glowing green potion.  Dumbledore held his hand over
it, then drew his wand and cast a number of spells before reporting his
findings.  

"This potion cannot be penetrated by hand, vanished, parted, scooped up, or
siphoned away, nor can it be transfigured, charmed, or otherwise made to change
its nature.  I can only conclude that this potion is supposed to be drunk."  He
conjured a crystal goblet.  

"What?  No!" said Harry, and both Sloth and I grabbed Dumbledore to restrain
him this time.  

"Only by drinking it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its depths,"
argued Dumbledore.  "The horcrux will be at the bottom."  

"We should prepare a poison cure," suggested Hermione, casting the spell to
analyze the ingredients of the potion.  

"How could you drink it if you can't scoop it out to begin with?" asked Ron.  

I reached out and verified that my hand was stopped before touching the
surface.  Taking the goblet Dumbledore had conjured, I successfully scooped up
some.  When I poured it out on the ground, however, a refilling charm on the
basin triggered, topping it back off.  

"Do you see?" asked Dumbledore.  

"There are a few more things we can try while Hermione works on that antidote,"
I said, scooping another goblet full out of the basin.  When I set the goblet
down on the floor, the basin again refilled itself.  "It only happens when we
put it down," I noted.  

"Tom knew his boat would only carry one person," said Harry.  "We need more
goblets.  Two for everyone."  

Dumbledore complied and conjured the cups, which were distributed between us. 
At Harry's direction, we each filled both goblets and held them without
drinking.  That successfully emptied the basin, revealing a gold locket at the
bottom.  I grew a third hand and took one of the goblets from Harry, allowing
him to draw the Sword of Gryffindor and stab the locket.  

It didn't blacken or writhe like the other horcurxes did.  Instead, it snapped
in two easily like normal gold, revealing a bit of folded parchment inside. 
Harry bent down and retrieved it, then read aloud.  

"To the Dark Lord.  I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want
you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.  I have stolen the real
horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.  I face death in the hope
that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once again.  R.A.B."  

"Regulus Black was never trusted with Slytherin's locket," said Sloth.  "He
penetrated these defenses to steal it, but he couldn't find a way to destroy it
before he died.  That explains why Tom didn't come and remove it from the Black
house after he died."  

"I think we have someone new to bring back with the Resurrection Stone," I
said.  

Harry repaired the locket with his wand and put the note back inside. 
Replacing it at the bottom of the basin, he said, "Regulus wanted Tom to find
that when he came to check on the horcrux.  I think we should honor that wish."
 

We poured the potion back into the basin and Dumbledore vanished the glasses. 
After that, we exited the cave and returned to Hogwarts.  

                                     * * *


We were studying for exams when Snape came to talk to Harry.  After verifying
we were alone, he reported in on the latest orders he'd received from
Voldemort.  

"How he's accepted Draco Malfoy has given up his half hearted attempts to kill
Dumbledore, the Dark Lord has assigned me to both finish the job and kill Draco
for his disobedience."  

"I guess that's it for your time as a spy," said Ron.  

"Not necessarily," said Harry to general looks of confusion.  "I mean, you're
free to come in and be on our side openly any time, but if you still wanted to
keep his trust-"  

"Potter, get to the point," interrupted Snape.  

"We could fake their deaths," said Harry.  "The only ones who know about the
Unbreakable Vow are on our side, so me not dropping dead won't tip him off."  

"How would we fake their deaths?" asked Neville.  

"We just make some fake bodies for the funerals and put them on a polyjuice
regimen until the danger's past.  It's standard procedure in the Ministry,"
said Luna.  

"No it isn't," said Hermione, "but it would work."  

"We'd have to get them to go along with it," said Ginny.  

"On the plus side, with all the muggle family members in the school for
protection, they can blend in with the crowd," said Sloth.  

"Let me know when you need the bodies," I said, "and give me a cause of death."
 

"With Dumbledore seemingly out of the way," considered Snape, "the Dark Lord
might be lured out into more overt action, exposing both him and the snake. 
And, at a critical moment, Dumbledore could still step in."  

Both Dumbledore and Draco agreed to the plan.  Snape provided two very obvious
poisons I was to mimic the effects and traces in the fake corpses.  That way,
whoever Voldemort sent to the funerals would be able to verify the cause of
death.  Unfortunately, as Snape pointed out, if he weren't caught and driven
out of the school, the next order would be to kill Harry.  We carefully
coordinated a scene with the Order of the Phoenix.  Snape would be driven from
the school in a carefully choreographed three on one duel with McGonagall,
Moody, and Tonks.  Everyone not in the Order, plus Hagrid, had to be kept in
the dark for this to succeed.  

The spectacle was staged during exams, with a dead Draco being removed from his
dorm.  McGonagall "discovered" Dumbledore in a similar position when she went
to his office to report Draco.  She confronted Snape with Moody and Tonks at
her sides, and Snape admitted the deed and fought, with Snape being forced to
flee.  

It was one more distraction for my exams that I really didn't need, but the
time turner enabled study time minimized the impact.  McGonagall took over as
headmistress.  Slughorn was made head of Slytherin, and she brought in James to
replace her as transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor.  Sirius was
brought back to teach defense properly this time as an open member of the
faculty.  Lupin's work with the werewolves for the Order was still too
important to bring him on as staff despite the excellent job he'd done his one
year here.  

Dumbledore's funeral was held shortly after exams, and a tomb was erected on
the grounds for him.  Dumbledore himself seemed touched at the turnout. 
McGonagall took the opportunity at the funeral to extend an offer to all
students to remain under the protection of Hogwarts over the summer, given the
dangerous times.  Even with the recent apparent deaths, most people realized
there was still no safer place to be than Hogwarts.  

                                     * * *


With the end of the term, it was time to start setting plans in motion.  Harry
returned to the Dursleys' under an Order escort to renew the blood wards one
last time and to prepare his family to be moved to Hogwarts when the blood
wards fell with Harry coming of age.  Sloth and I returned to Privet Drive with
him so we could clear out the red stones and Philosopher's Flowers from our
house on the off chance the Death Eaters searched it.  

Ron was entrusted with the Resurrection Stone and assigned to bring back as
many people on our side as he could manage, including Regulus Black if he could
find an appropriate loved one.  He was also to convert anyone on our side so
inclined into homunculi once they were of age.  

Dumbledore had been reassigned to be Draco Malfoy's body guard, since they were
both supposed to be dead.  Because there was no easy way to let Draco continue
his NEWT classes without raising suspicions, Dumbledore agreed to serve as a
private tutor for him next year.  Narcissa's worries about Lucius proved
justified when news came down that he'd been killed during a mass Death Eater
breakout from Azkaban.  

"Until Harry gives us a lead on the last horcrux, we need to help keep up the
momentum of the war effort," I said as I deconstructed the armored servants
that had been manufacturing red stones at Privet Drive all year.  

"There's still plenty to do that doesn't directly involve stripping Tom of his
immortality," agreed Sloth, while she was breaking down the remaining
philosopher's flowers.  

"Obviously, we need to take any chance we can get to kill the snake," I
continued.  "We also need to take out his Death Eaters and, if possible,
disrupt their muggle attacks."  

"Don't forget, anyone they use could be under the Imperius curse, so we should
avoid lethal tactics if possible," reminded Sloth.  "Now that they're acting
openly, they'll probably gather a lot of canon fodder that way."  

"Still, we can't just let them go either way," I said.  "We'll need to take
prisoners and sort out who's who.  Executing the real Death Eaters will free
those they Imperiused."  

"Filch'll be happy," said Sloth.  "He really wanted to get use out of those
chains."  

"Speaking of Filch," I said, picking up a red stone, "I think we need to arm
the muggles in Hogwarts in case the defenses are breached."  

"Guns won't work in the castle," noted Sloth.  

"Not normal ones," I agreed.  "Remember those fake wands with switches I was
using in third year?  We could make red stone powered guns using the same
principle that fire stunning bolts instead of bullets."  

"I like it," said Sloth.  "We've got more than enough red stones for it."  

"Do you think Scrimgeour'll be able to keep things from falling apart outside
the castle?" I asked.  

"I doubt it," replied Sloth.  "The Ministry hasn't been able to stop a single
muggle attack, witches and wizards have been disappearing all year, and the
dementors are breeding.  I think it will end up being up to us."  

"At least when we were fighting the Nazis, we could rely on the allies to fight
the war while we focused on the super weapon projects.  Do you think we should
involve the muggle minister?"  

"Apparently the Order has Kingsley Shacklebolt keeping him informed and
protected.  Presumably anything he can do is limited with the efforts the
wizards routinely take to keep the muggles out of their affairs.  A strike team
of soldiers won't do much good even with our new guns if they're all turned
away by muggle repelling charms."  

"It'd be the same problem calling for help from back home, wouldn't it?  Even
if the Amestrian military wanted to get involved in an interdimensional war
against forces they have no knowledge or experience with, most of the really
effective alchemists won't agree to become homunculi to bypass the muggle
repelling charms."  

"It's a good thing we can be in two places at once," said Sloth.  "I get the
feeling that when things do heat up, we'll need to get everything done all at
once just to keep up."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
With Dumbledore no longer in charge, his lucky breaks will no longer dominate
the heroes side, forcing them to rely on their own skills, abilities, and
general competence.  Fortunately, under Harry the entire process is being
better run and better organized with the light side sharing information with
one another and actively working together toward their actual goals. 
***** The Importance of Family *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 59) The Importance of Family
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Our packing was done in short order.  With all our seeds and stones in my
shoulder bag, Sloth and I went next door to see how things were coming with the
Dursleys.  Unsurprisingly, Vernon was being obstructionist.  

"Why can't the Ministry protect us from this voldywhatsit?" he was demanding of
Harry.  

"I told you," replied Harry.  "The Ministry of Magic's been infiltrated
backward and forward by his followers."  

"Not your Ministry," clarified Vernon, "the real Ministry."  

"The Muggle Ministry?" demanded Harry, incredulously.  "You can't be serious. 
The only reason the muggle minister hasn't been put under the Imperius curse is
Kingsley acting as a bodyguard."  

"I take it you aren't finished packing yet," I said, drawing attention to my
presence.  

"Actually, I've just finished packing everything," said Lily cheerfully as she
floated a number of trunks and suitcases down the stairs to pile them near the
front door.  

"You're sure we'll be safe at Hogwarts?" Petunia asked her sister.  

"At the moment, it's the safest place in the world for you and your family,"
said Lily.  

"I thought we still had until the boy turned seventeen," complained Vernon.  

"It's between waiting out the next month or so and leaving at the last moment
when the Death Eaters will be waiting or leaving early and not giving them
warning when," said Sloth.  She hadn't bothered shifting out of her four year
old form.  The time for placating people with comforting illusions was over.  

"Everything's ready?  Excellent," said James as he swept into the room carrying
a bundle of clothes.  "Now, while we wait for Moody to get here, everyone
should put on your hats and cloaks."  

The Dursleys all just stared contemptuously at the cloaks and pointed wizard
hats James was holding out to them.  James looked between the clothes and the
Dursleys with confusion as the rest of us put them on.  

"You can't seriously expect us to go out wearing those," said Vernon.  

"They've got protective enchantments laid on them," said James.  "I knew you
couldn't cast shield charms and I figured you'd be safer wearing these while we
travel."  

"The clasp on the cloak protects against dementors," I added, drawing attention
to the round pin engraved with an alchemic seal that I'd provided in bulk to
Fred and George for just this use.  Dudley took the offered clothes and put
them on then and there.  He was the only one who'd directly experienced the
dark creatures and knew full well the danger they represented.  

A knock came at the door and Mad-Eye Moody limped in.  His magical eye rotated
around in his socket, pausing in its rotation to note at least three separate
targets outside.  Verifying his identity was unnecessary, as the blood wards
wouldn't allow a polyjuiced Death Eater inside.  

"It's like we thought," said Moody.  "Three Death Eaters outside at least. 
Antiapparition jinx around the whole area to keep us just taking you side
along.  Floo network's not trustworthy even if we could get this place
temporarily hooked in.  With the trace still on Harry, making a portkey'll send
up alarms at the Ministry."  

"We can take three Death Eaters," I said.  

"All three before they can touch their marks?" asked Moody rhetorically. 
"Invisibility cloaks work best when the enemy isn't expecting them.  They'll be
using human presence revealing spells."  

"How many humans are in this house?" asked Sloth showing off her slitted,
violet eyes.  

"Three's just the ones I can see," said Moody.  "They know I've got this eye
and what it can do.  If they've got someone transfigured nearby watching,
taking out those three won't help."  

"What's the plan?" asked James.  

"The Order's set up some safe houses.  Each one has a portkey to Hogwarts in
it," said Moody.  

"But aren't those a security risk?" I asked.  "If the Death Eaters capture one,
they can get inside the protections."  

"They're timed and single use," said Moody.  "And we've got them keyed to land
you in a locked cell in the dungeons with most of the Order waiting to verify
whoever arrives."  

"How're we getting to the safe houses?" asked Lily.  

"We'll fly," he said, taking a number of broomsticks out of a bag like mine. 
"We'll split into three groups.  Each group will have one Potter and one
dursley in it riding together and the third member flying guard duty.  Each
group heads for a different safe house to confuse and throw off any pursuers."
 

Moody spread a map out on the kitchen table and went over the locations of the
dozen safe houses that had been prepared.  Each group was assigned a primary,
secondary, and tertiary safe house to go to, and three of the safe houses were
left unassigned as decoys.  The destination of each group was selected
randomly, then and there, to prevent any spy from having foreknowledge they
could use to concentrate their forces along our route.  

"I'd still feel better if we took out the Death Eaters we can see before we set
out," I said.  "Can you tell if htey've all go the mark?"  

Moody swiveled his eye and nodded.  

"Then they're real Death Eaters and not Imperiused lackeys," I said.  

"We could bypass all this using the Gate," said Sloth.  "Antiapparition jinxes
don't work on that."  

"Do you want to try draging Vernon through?" I asked.  "He's going to be enough
of a pain just getting on a broomstick, let alone rocketing past the grasping
limbs of the Gate Children."  

"Good point," said Sloth.  "So, you me, and one of Harry's parents slip under
invisibility cloaks, take out the Death Eaters, and get back."  

"We use these," I said, setting three soul coins on the table.  "They'll still
be alive and present according to any human presence revealing spells that
way.  Don't forget to prop your Death Eater up after you strike in case there
are transfigured Death Eaters out there."  

James took a coin and nodded.  When we stepped out under our cloaks, Lily and
Dudley had just managed to talk Petunia into putting on the hat and cloak. 
Vernon was still being stubborn.  It seemed he really would rather die than be
seen dressed like that.  

After I extracted the Death Eater's soul, I locked his joints with a
transmutation emulating a full body bind curse.  Then I crept back.  James and
Sloth reported similar success and handed me back the coins.  I stowed all
three in my bag.  

Moody nodded and said, "I think that's all we can do.  We should go before they
miss a check in."  

"Wait, how're we supposed to bring our luggage on... on..." sputtered Vernon,
pointing at the broomsticks but unable to bring himself to say t he word.  

"Magic," replied James, who raised his wand and levitated all the luggage into
Moody's bag.  

"Any more objections, Dursley?" asked Moody menacingly.  

"You really expect us to just leave our house?" blustered Vernon.  

"We can't very well put it in a bag and take it with us," noted James.  "It's
not really built for being picked up."  

"How do I know you're telling the truth about this voldything to begin with?"
demanded Vernon.  

"We're on a schedule, Dursley," said Moody.  "We exposed Potter just to give
you time to prepare."  

"Well, I'm not leaving," declared Vernon, crossing his arms.  

Without warning, Dudley punched Vernon in the face.  Vernon collapsed
unconscious.  A one punch knock out from his boxer son.  Dudley put the hat and
cloak on his unconscious father and lifted him on his shoulder.  

"Duddykins," gasped Petunia, "what did you do?"  

"Dad isn't safe here," said Dudley.  "We have to bring him with us."  

Moody nodded approvingly and said, "All right, everyone outside and on your
brooms."  

Dudley draped his father over James' broomstick then mounted in front of Harry
on his.  Moody climbed onto his broom next to Lily's and I prepared myself to
escort Harry.  When we kicked off the ground, a tree reached around to press a
leaf covered twig to one of its branches and twenty Death Eaters materialized
in the sky above us.  

I was pointing my wand to blast a hole through their ranks when a yellow light
from the ground below made me stop.  A Death Eater with a silver hand was
holding a massive flamel array active directly below us.  Four brooms fell to
earth as James, Lily, Sloth,a nd I lost control and began vomiting up red
stones.  With Petigrew's alchemy incapacitating most of the escort, Voldemort
himself arrived on the scene.  

Without the aid of a broom, Voldemort took to the sky, flying at Harry. 
Weighed down by his cousin, Harry couldn't out fly Voldemort.  Voldemort raised
his wand to end it, but Harry was quicker.  Wrenching his arm around at an odd
angle, he sent a jet of golden flame at the Dark Lord, causing his wand to
shatter into splinters.  

Taking advantage of Voldemort's distraction, Moody wheeled around in midair and
shot a hex downward, decapitating Petigrew and releasing us to act.  Killing
curses rained down at us from the Death Eaters above.  Lily threw herself over
her sister and James shielded the unconscious Vernon.  No time for alchemy, I
threw myself over Sloth.  James, Lily, Moody, and I were all struck by the
green bolts of death.  

I was conscious seconds later as Sloth shoved the red stone at the tip of her
wand down my throat.  Voldemort had retrieved a new wand and was taking aim at
Harry.  I caught sight of a glint of gold chain strung between Harry and
Dudley, the turn of an hourglass, and they disappeared.  

Sloth and I followed Harry's lead.  Springing to our feet, I used the arrays on
my shoes to transmute a protective tunnel out of the pavement.  Large holes
were blasted in the tunnel by the Death Eaters as Sloth reached James and
Vernon and I reached Lily and Petunia.  We wrapped the silver chain of our
pocket watches around ourselves and our charges and disappeared into the past.
 

"We have to go back!" said Harry.  "We're in the past!  Moody's still alive!"  

"We can't change what's happened," said Sloth.  "You know that."  

"Use a soul coin and an invisibility cloak," said Harry.  "Grab his soul just
before the killing curse hits him!"  

"Approach Mad-Eye under an invisibility cloak, in midair, in the middle of an
aerial battle with killing curses flying every which way?" I argued back. 
"We're better off getting to Hogwarts and reviving him with the Resurrection
Stone."  

Harry blinked, then nodded.  "All right.  Let's go."  

"They're dead!" screamed Petunia.  "They were really trying to kill us! 
Vernon!  Was he hit?  I thought you said these hats would protect us!"  She
hurled her hat angrily to the ground and rushed over to where Vernon laid,
unconscious.  "He's still breathing.  Thank God."  

"Thank James," I said, pulling handfuls of red stones out of my bag to revive
James and Lily with.  "He shielded Vernon with his body just like Lily did for
you."  

Once everyone was revived, we mounted our broomsticks and headed for the
nearest of the safe houses Moody had informed us about.  The time turners had
deposited us some distance away from Privet Drive, and with our past selves
still there, none of the Death Eaters would be looking for us yet.  

While we waited at the safe house for the portkey to activate, Harry sat in a
chair and closed his eyes.  Vernon regained consciousness and Petunia placated
him while the rest of us gathered around Harry.  Voldemort was agitated enough
during the battle that his thoughts were involuntarily spilling over into
Harry's mind.  

"He borrowed a wand to avoid another prior incantum happening with the twin
cores," said Harry.  "He doesn't know what my wand did either.  That's probably
going to be important.  Moody just killed Petigrew.  Tom's livid about it. 
Seems like Wormtail kept what he knew about alchemy to himself to make sure he
didn't outlive his usefulness.  We've just escaped, and now he's madder than
ever.  He knows we used time turners to do it."  

"What do you mean 'what your wand did'?" I asked.  "What did it do?"  

"It pulled my arm around and shot out some sort of golden fire that destroyed
the wand he borrowed."  

"Nothing like that's happened before?" asked James.  When Harry shook his head,
James said, "If Ollivander hadn't gone missing, we could ask him what's going
on."  

Dudley warned us that the time for us to catch our portkey was approaching.  We
all gathered around to make the last leg of our trip.  It took only a minimum
of strong arming to get Vernon to comply.  

In the Hogwarts dungeon, while we were being observed for signs of the Imperius
curse and waiting out the time for polyjuice to wear off, I gave a full report
of the incident to the Order members holding us.  Ron was summoned once we
reported Mad-Eye's death.  He brought Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Neville so we
could avoid giving explanations more than once.  

"Of course it was Mad-Eye!" ranted Ron as he arrived.  "If it'd been literally
anyone else who was there, I could toss the Resurrection Stone into your cell
and they'd be back on their feet before you were done with quarantine."  

"We have to have someone we can use to bring him back," I said, dumbfounded.  

"Alistor was a solitary man," said McGonagall.  "He didn't form deep
attachments easily, and as far as I'm aware, his loved ones all preceded him
into the next life."  

"So, we have to get the wand instead," said Sloth.  "It was a killing curse
that did it."  

"We can't," said Harry.  "Tom's on to us bringing people back with captured
wands.  He had the wand that killed Moody destroyed first thing after the
battle."  

"The Resurrection Stone can't bring him back without loved ones, and the wand's
been broken.  I think it's time you played your trump card, Greed," said Ron.  

"My trump card?" I asked, confused.  

"You told me you could bring back the dead with a Philosopher's Stone."  

"I also told you the cost of forging one," I shot back.  "That isn't an
option.  Moody certainly wouldn't want to be responsible for that."  

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Ron.  "You never destroyed the
Philosopher's Stones from our first year.  You ate them, but you've got an
array for accessing their power inside a homunculus."  

My eyes were downcast as I said, "Petigrew used a flamel array on us at the
start of the fight.  We puked up all the stones that were in us and they melted
away."  

"You don't have them anymore?  Either of them?" asked Ron, wide eyed.  

"He might still come back as a ghost," suggested Hermione.  "He knew we could
put him back in a body."  

Harry shook his head.  "Everyone he loved is already gone.  He died a hero
saving our lives and finishing off Petigrew.  He won't choose to come back."  

Putting his arms around his son, James kissed the top of Harry's head and said,
"Even if we could've gotten the wand, we'd only be calling him back to help us
out of obligation.  He'll be happy where he's gone, back with the people he
loves and no regrets about how he went out."  

"Is that what I did to you?" asked Harry in a small voice.  "You both died
saving me and I called you back."  

"We chose to come back to you," said Lily firmly.  "Greed gave us the choice to
be put in these bodies or to have our blood seals broken and pass on again. 
There are people we love who are still here, and being with them isn't an
obligation."  

                                     * * *


A few hours later, after we were let out of the dungeon, Harry got another
vision from Voldemort.  Ollivander was imprisoned somewhere and Voldemort was
torturing him for information about the behavior of Harry's wand.  Apparently,
Ollivander had explained about the twin cores in a previous torture session,
and Voldemort suspected him of holding out.  

We all remembered the vision of Sirius Voldemort had falsified to lure us into
a trap, so we decided to verify Harry's vision with Snape.  If it was true,
hopefully he could also give us more details on where Ollivander was being
held.  Harry'd only seen the cell itself in his vision.  

Snape was on an irregular check in pattern due to the deep cover nature of his
work.  He had a communication mirror, but the risk of another Death Eaterbeing
in the room when we tried to contact him meant everyone was safer if we let him
call us.  It meant Ollivander had to wait longer, but if he was in immediate
danger of being killed, there wouldn't be much we could do anyway.  

While we waited, we busied ourselves securing the castle.  Hermione put
unbreakable charms on every window.  I applied the same alchemy I'd used to
protect the Philosopher's Stones to the outer walls of the castle, leaving the
interior walls alchemically malleable.  Sloth produced the red stone powered
stun pistols we'd discussed and distributed them to the muggles.  Ron put
refilling charms on our red water tanks so we wouldn't be dependent on outside
ingredients for our red stones.  Ginny recruited Peeves to help set up some
very nasty, very noisy booby traps in all the secret passages in and out of the
castle.  Neville and Luna put their heads together with Hagrid to work out the
logistics of comfortably housing all the creatures in the forbidden forest.  

The teachers were similarly busy.  Flitwick was placing undetectable extension
charms on the castle's rooms to accommodate the larger than usual number of
residents, and to account for potentially many more refugees.  McGonagall
helped Sprout relocate the contents of her greenhouses indoors.  Slughorn was
hard at work brewing us supplies of veritasyrum, polyjuice, felix felicis, and
other useful potions for the war effort.  

Harry spent a lot of time in the Chamber of Secrets consulting with Slytherin's
basilisk.  It wasn't long before we began to suspect this was less about castle
security and more about avoiding the Dursleys.  Most of the muggle relatives
already staying in the castle had tried to welcome them and make them feel
comfortable at first, but soon the Dursleys' attitude had managed to alienate
nearly everybody.  Dudley had escaped this general attitude by largely
abandoning his parents and spending much of his time telling stories about the
abusive home life Harry'd had before coming to Hogwarts.  Before the first week
was out, everyone knew he was the cousin of Harry Potter, the leader of the
light, and everyone's best hope against Voldemort.  He was a natural at
navigating power structures and had exploited his connection to Harry for all
it was worth.  

Finally, Snape contacted us.  He was able to confirm Ollivander was being held
in Malfoy manner, which Voldemort was using as a headquarters.  He also brought
news regarding the mass breakout from Azkaban orchestrated by the Death
Eaters.  Snape had been ordered to kill Lucius Malfoy during the breakout. 
Instead, he'd used the modified soul coin I'd given him.  Lucius was alive with
his soul attached to the coin.  A dead drop was arranged and Lucius' soul was
transported safely to Hogwarts.  A dozen new soul coins left for Snape in case
he was called upon to commit more murders.  

"I'm not making him a homunculus," said Ron firmly when we had the coin.  

"We still need Draco's cooperation to keep Harry alive," said Hermione.  

"Harry needs to die anyway," snarled Ron viciously.  "I say we break the blood
seal and send the other two off to their fate.  We know Harry'll come back from
one death."  

"I think he'd probably rather save it until after the other horcruxes are
gone," said Hermione.  

"Lucius Malfoy tried to kill my sister with that diary!" shouted Ron.  

"I'm with Ron," said Ginny.  "With everything he did, he sholdn't be rewarded
by making him immortal."  

"There is middle ground," I said.  "We could bind him to a suit of armor
instead.  I think never being able to feel the warmth of his family's touch
ever again is pretty bad all on its own."  

"I think tha's probably our best choice," said Harry.  "Can you make the armor
distinctive so we can tell him appart from the others?"  

"Can do," I said, nodding.  

"That settled," said Neville, "who are we sending to Malfoy manner to rescue
Mr. Ollivander?"  

"I've been thinking about this," said Harry.  "I want to send Dobby.  He knows
Malfoy manner, and house elves can apparate through areas that don't let wizard
apparition through."  

"We can't send him alone," said Luna.  "It's too dangerous."  

"Not to mention someone'll have to be on hand to remind him not to punish
himself for breaking the Malfoys' good dishes while he's there," said Ron.  

"I'm good at infiltrating," offered Sloth.  "Between me and Dobby, we can be in
and out before anyone knows we're gone.  And if it does go sideways, I can
protect them both in a fight."  

Harry nodded.  "Take an extra wand to arm Ollivander with once you're there. 
Is your invisibility cloak still in good shape?"  

"It's fine," said Sloth.  

"Make sure you don't die," said Ron.  "You still need to come to Bill and
Fleur's wedding."  

"Speaking of which, do you have details?" I asked.  

"They're having it at the Burrow," began Ron.  "Tons of security charms've been
put up.  It's the day after Harry's birthday, but mum wants us all there as
soon as we can to help with the preparations.  We'd already be heading out if
it weren't for needing to rescue Ollivander."  

                                     * * *


After waiting out his polyjuice observation time, Ollivander was debriefed
under veritasyrum.  Between that and Harry's legilimency, we were as confident
as we could be that he hadn't actually joined Voldemort's cause.  He genuinely
had no answers about what Harry's wand had done, as the independent attack was
unprecedented.  After having been unable to explain it to Voldemort, he'd next
been forced to answer questions about the Elder Wand.  Voldemort had apparently
decided it represented a solution to the problem of Harry's wand.  

Ollivander had been able to trace the Elder Wand as far as the wandmaker
Gregorovitch, so Voldemort didn't yet know it had been in the hands of
Grindewald, and then Dumbledore.  Grevorovitch was currently retired and his
whereabouts unknown.  If Voldemort was intent on tracing the Elder Wand, that
meant we could lay traps along his path.  Dumbledore's tomb could have a
portkey in the form of a fake wand with a destination inside an apparition
proof prison cell lined with murder holes we could safely shoot curses into. 
Grindewald's prison cell in Nurmengard could be staked out with dissilusioned
agents.  If we could find Gregorovitch before Voldemort, a similar trap could
be laid.  

Our best hope for finding Grevorovitch was actually to attend Bill and Fleur's
wedding.  Fleur had invited Viktor Krum, who had been one of Gregorovitch's
last customers before he retired.  As such, with no further delays, we took a
portkey to the Burrow.  

Plenty of chores were waiting for us as we set about getting the Burrow cleaned
and decorated for the wedding.  Given how overcrowded the house was going to be
with all the wedding guests, the six of us who weren't family insisted on
sleeping in the tent from our stay at the Quidditch World Cup, set up in the
yard.  Given how long we'd be staying, we brought our pets from Hogwarts
along.  Loki and Crookshanks fortunately got along well enough, so both stayed
in the tent with us.  

Everyone had to be careful doing magic around Harry, since the trace was still
on him and Voldemort's ministry spies could use it to identify his location. 
Fortunately, he would be of age and free of the trace in time for the wedding
itself.  We did take full advantage of the fact that alchemy wasn't detectable
by the trace to help us with the list of chores.  Somehow, this prompted Mrs.
Weasley to raise her standards of preparation and invent new chores that
absolutely must be completed.  

The overgrown garden had been regrown to Mrs. Weasley's specifications.  The
dirt, dust, and detritus had been cleaned form every corner of the house and
yard.  Every room had been redecorated and prepared for guests.  Everyone's
clothes had been mended and refitted.  The chickens were bathed and groomed.  

As was usual at the crowded Weasley house, privacy was at a minimum.  Sloth and
I weren't the only ones frustrated at the difficulty of stealing a few private
moments here and there.  Both Harry and Ginny as well as Ron and Hermione kept
trying to sneak off and being thwarted by the cramped quarters and Mrs.
Weasley's watchful eye.  Neville and Luna had tried dating briefly after the
Yule Ball, but things never really developed between them, with them deciding
they were better as friends.  

Order members stopped by the Burrow frequently to report in and socialize. 
Attempts had been made to recover Moody's body, but the Death Eaters had
cleaned up the scene before they left.  I'd lost people before, but Moody was
different.  Maybe because I wasn't close to him, maybe because of all the
verified evidence of an afterlife, his death seemed less tragic.  I just hoped
this wasn't a trend.  In the back of my mind was still the niggling worry that
with enough time, I'd end up like Dante and Hohenheim.  

                                     * * *


Harry's birthday was a joyous occasion.  Now seventeen and free of the trace,
Harry amused himself with small, frivolous acts of magic.  Friends, family, and
well wishers arrived to join in the celebration, though the security on the
Burrow meant the guest list was still quite intimate.  Since any potential
weapon or tool I was able to lay my hands on was going to be given to Harry as
part of the war effort anyway, I decided to give him a key that would allow him
access to the living quarters in the Chamber of Secrets that Sloth and I had
included in our lab.  The two of us could find other opportunities for privacy
once we were back in the castle.  

Harry's other gifts included a mokeskin pouch from Hagrid that could only be
opened by its owner, some new dark detectors, a sampler of all Fred and
George's merchandise, and a gold watch that had been in the Weasley family. 
Sloth had painted Harry a portrait using the potion infused pigments that
brought their subjects to life.  Not really wanting to create another person
with her art, Sloth's portrait was of a boa like the one Harry told us about
having met at the zoo years ago.  The snake had several canvases, so Harry
could dispatch the snake to monitor different locations of his choosing.  

"Armstrong would be proud," I said, staring in awe at the photo realistic
painting as the snake slithered between canvases.  

"I've been trying to learn how to do it since my first day at Hogwarts,"
admitted Sloth, blushing.  "Making the pigments was a lot easier than being a
good enough artist for them to actually come to life."  

"I love it, Sloth.  Thank you," said Harry enthusiastically.  

"A copy would fit in really well with the decor at Grimauld Place," said
Sirius.  "Now that Regulus is back, he's started complaining about us
redecorating, and that would be a portrait we could both agree on."  

"How's Regulus adapting to his new body?" asked Harry.  

"He's mostly still in shock that he's come back from the dead," said Sirius. 
"He's looking forward to rubbing that in Tom's face.  He wanted me to ask you
to let him go on the mission to kill the snake once we know where it is."  

"He's more than earned the right to destroy a horcrux," said Harry.  

"Speaking of which," said Lupin, "any leads on the last one?"  

Harry shook his head.  "All I really have to go on was Dumbledore's guess that
with Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket, Tom would've wanted to complete
the set with something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's.  That is just a guess,
though."  

"If course, he was prone to lucky guesses," said Neville, wryly.  

"As to the where," said Harry, returning the grin, "he left two with his
followers, and two in places related to his past.  I think the last one must be
someplace else from his past he considered important."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Since the Resurrection Stone runs on the power of love, not having loved ones
is an objective, quantifiable weakness.  The power of love can still help
decide the war, even if the sacrificial protection plan Dumbledore had running
got spoiled. 
***** Strike and Counterstrike *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 60) Strike and Counterstrike
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


The wedding the next day began with all manner of relatives arriving.  Most of
the Weasley relatives were decent, pleasant people.  The main exception being
Ron's ill tempered, hundred year old Aunt Muriel.  Avoiding her became a
priority as soon as she arrived.  Fleur's family were also wonderful people,
who were happy and excited about the union of their two families.  

Even with my occlumency blocking the charms of the various part veela
relatives, it was impossible not to find myself frequently entranced by their
mundane beauty and cheerful disposition.  Now that we were in our true forms,
Sloth had little trouble regaining my attention at will, which left her feeling
far less insecure around them than she otherwise might have.  The two of us
wore the same clothes we had during the Yule Ball, adjusted in size to our true
forms.  

Viktor Krum arrived in time to be seated, but we'd have to wait until after the
ceremony to discuss Grevorovitch.  Sloth and I took seats near the front and
intertwined our fingers.  We'd agreed our own wedding would take place after
Voldemort was permanently disposed of, and we couldn't help but consider which
elements from this ceremony we would like in our own.  

Finally, with Bill waiting up by the priest, Fleur came down the isle in a
simple white dress and a silver tiara.  Her father walked with her, arm in arm,
until they reached the front where he took his seat.  I felt Sloth's fingers
twitch, and I could guess what it was about.  That was one element we couldn't
have in our wedding.  

At the direction of the priest, Bill and Fleur pledged their lifelong devotion
to one another.  When the vows were sealed, not with magic bearing threats and
consequences, but with freely given words of love and the support of all
gathered, the priest bid us rise.  The chairs were levitated off to the sides,
and a dance floor was conjured under our feet.  

So as not to lose the entire evening, Sloth and I limited ourselves to only
dance every other song.  Congratulations were offered to the bride and groom
after our first dance.  After the second, we went to talk to Viktor.  

"Greed, it is good to see you," said Viktor warmly.  "And who is this?"  

"You met Sloth the last time you were in Brattain," I reminded him.  

Looking at Sloth carefully, there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, and
he asked, "Was there an accident with a shrinking solution?"  

"No," said Sloth.  "This is what I've always looked like.  I was making myself
look older to fit in."  

"I see," said Krum.  "In that case, I am honored that you now feel safe showing
the real you."  He kissed the back of Sloth's hand.  

"You don't know how much your acceptance means to both of us," I said,
squeezing Sloth's shoulder.  

"We wanted to ask you about your wand," said Sloth, changing the subject.  

"Ah," said Krum.  "Harry already told me you were looking for Gregorovitch.  As
I told him, I have not seen him since I purchased my wand.  I will be happy to
ask after him when I return to my home country for you."  

"Did Harry give you-" I started.  

"Yes," said Krum, cutting me off, holding up a communication mirror.  "It is a
very clever enchantment.  I will let you know as soon as I find out anything."
 

"He did tell you Tom Riddle is also looking for Gregorovitch, right?" confirmed
Sloth.  

"He did," said Krum, nodding.  "Karkaroff's old master will not find
Grevorovitch first if I have anything to say about it."  

"Don't hesitate to use the mirror to call for help if you need it," I said. 
"We've got a lot of people Tom's hurt on our side anxious to do whatever they
can to beat him and end this once and for all."  

Viktor lowered his voice, then asked, "Have you had any luck finding his
horcrux?"  

"Yes and no," I said.  "We destroyed four.  We're pretty sure we know what a
fifth one is and how to get at it.  The sixth, we haven't been able to identify
yet."  

"More than one?" Viktor asked, his jaw dropping.  "You have to damage your soul
to make just one.  Who would even think of making more than one?"  

"A half blood raised by muggles without any of the usual taboos or cautionary
tales," said Sloth.  

"Missing out on taboos is a great way to push the bounds of what's possible," I
said.  "It'd be an admirable trait if it were channeled into something less
evil."   

"Dark lords always do things we would admire if they weren't killing and
torturing innocent people," said Krum.  "If they didn't do anything new and
impressive, no one would follow them."  

"You'd think I'd be over it after six years opposing one," said Sloth, "but
dark lords being a thing is still such a strange thing."  

"Count yourselves lucky you come from a land without them," said Viktor.  

On that note, Sloth and I returned to the dance floor.  No one but Aunt Muriel
was giving Sloth and I disapproving looks after getting a few words of
explanation.  We were accepted and happily so.  Viktor's reaction being close
to the standard.  Witches and wizards were used to people of all shapes and
sizes.  

Suddenly, the magic of the evening was broken by the arrival of Rufus
Scrimgeour and a half dozen Aurors, including Order member Kingsley
Shacklebolt.  They all looked scuffed and singed, with one of the Aurors
stunned unconscious and supported by his fellows.  The fact that they had
apparated into the middle of the dance floor meant the security enchantments
around the Burrow had failed.  

"The Death Eaters are staging a coup in the Ministry," said Scrimgeour.  "I
barely made it out alive with the help of a handful of Aurors they hadn't
gotten to yet.  They're coming.  We need to get everyone out of here before
they arrive."  

There were screams of panic as people began apparating out.  Scrimgeour and his
Aurors tried to get everyone to vacate in an organized fashion, but before any
progress could be made, masked Death Eaters appeared on the scene.  Scrimgeour
had come here because he knew that's where Harry would be.  The Death Eaters
had obviously come for the same reason.  

Sloth and I nodded to one another, and I whistled for Loki.  The Aurors and
Order members in attendance raised protective spells to guard the fleeing
guests.  Loki transformed in a burst of red and blue light and leapt at the
nearest Death Eater, pinning him to the ground with his massive weight while
throwing a second Death Eater twenty feet to land unconscious from the impact
of Loki's club like tail.  Loki wasn't really designed for nonlethal take
downs, but he was performing admirably.  

Sloth ran through the crowded areas where the Death Eaters were mixed in with
panicking party guests.  She passed harmlessly through the civilians, punching
the Death Eaters in their stomachs or crotches hard enough to lift them off
their feet, and breaking kneecaps with impunity.  If those were imperiused
agents, broken bones were easily fixed.

I stomped my foot and raised a temporary stone barrier between the crowd and
most of the Death Eaters, then I pointed my wand above the barrier and turned
the plants in the garden into snakes, each bearing a paralyzing venom.  I
ordered them to attack the hooded figures using parseltongue as I dropped back
behind cover.  

Luna had the presence of mind to perform a quick summoning charm to retrieve
the wands of the Death Eaters that had been disarmed or disabled so far while
Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Hermione kept throwing disarming charms and
stunning hexes at the Death Eaters.  The civilians were gone by this point,
having apparated out or fled the area on foot successfully.  Now, it was just
those of us fighting.  

With his wand away from him, I signaled Loki to move on from the pinned Death
Eater and target others.  A jet of green light narrowly missed my dog as a
Death Eater threw a curse wildly in the face of the enormous green scaled
chimera charging at him.  He was immediately trampled as Loki ran past him to
shoulder check a second Death Eater and club a third unconscious with his tail.
 

Before I could really get into the swing of the battle, it was over.  Fifty
masked Death Eaters lay unconscious on the ground, and not a single casualty on
our side.  That was suspicious, but there was no time to ask questions.  We
would have to rely on the Hogwarts security to handle whatever they were
planning.  Once the entire group was re-stunned for good measure, the aurors
and Order members grabbed the unconscious Death Eaters and apparated just
outside the gates of Hogwarts.  Sloth and I followed with Loki using our Gate
travel technique.  

After chaining up the Death Eaters in the dungeon cells watched over by a
gleeful Filch, Scrimgeour was outraged when we handed our wands over to Filch
and insisted he and his escort do the same.  

"We need to be checked over for signs of Imperius or Polyjuice," said Harry. 
"Any of us could've been hit with an Imperius curse or replaced by an imposter
in the battle."  

"You really think I'm letting you lock me up with the Death Eaters?" demanded
Scrimgeour.  

"It's not a matter of letting us," I said coolly.  "You're in our sanctuary,
and you'll abide by our security precautions.  We're all being locked up too. 
You'll accept the full, three hour polyjuice check, the use of veritasyrum to
verify your identity and allegiance, a legilimency scan by one of our people,
every dark detector in the building shoved wherever Mr. Filch pleases, and
you'll surrender your wands peacefully for all this to be done."  

"And if I refuse?" said Scrimgeour.  

"Do you see those slats in the walls?" I asked, pointing to a set of thin,
vertical openings.  "They're called murder holes.  They allow spells to be cast
into the room with little risk of retaliation.  If you refuse, the people out
there will just stun everyone in the room and force the issue while you're
unconscious.  I'd rather avoid that, being in the room with you, but if you
make us, we will go that way."  

"This is high treason," blustered Scrimgeour.  

"Yes it is," said Harry.  "Now that Tom's in charge of the Ministry, a lot of
things including trying to figure out who his agents are counts as treason."   

Scrimegeour and Harry stared one another down for a long moment, then
Scrimgeour handed his wand over, with his Aurors following suit.  Once we were
all chained to a wall, Filch locked up our wands and retrieved the
veritasyrum.  While he was gone, we discussed the battle.  

"Did that seem too easy to anyone else?" I asked.  "They had us surprised and
outnumbered, but no one on our side died."  

"They weren't dueling to kill," said Lupin, "and they were avoiding firing into
the crowd.  They seemed to be trying to cut through the defenders and get to
Harry."  

"They weren't shy about throwing killing curses when we were grabbing the
Dursleys," noted James, "and they didn't really switch over to them after the
guests were gone and we were all that was left."  

"The only killing curse I saw that whole fight was aimed at Loki," said Sloth,
nodding to the brown dog chained near her.  

"Think they've got a spy in our camp they didn't want to hit?" asked Sirius.  

"We'll find out when we interrogate them," said Tonks.  "In the meantime, I
think even after we're cleared, we stay together in groups of at least three
until we're done interrogating the prisoners, just in case."  

"This is going to really delay our honeymoon, isn't it?" said Bill.  

"The cottage should still be secure," said Fleur.  "You are the secret keeper,
and have told only people we trust."  

"So, where are you going?" I asked Fleur conversationally.  

"A lovely little house on the beach," she replied.  

"Once we're sure everyone's who they say they are, I'm sure you'll be able to
leave straight away," said Molly Weasley.  

"Have to make sure none of us have turned traitor," said Fred gamely.  

"It does somehow feel a lot less insulting knowing everyone's getting the same
treatment," said George.  

"Hmph," huffed Scrimgeour unhappily.  

                                     * * *


Once our identities were confirmed, we went over the captured Death Eaters. 
Only three of them had the Dark Mark branded on them, and they admitted to
grabbing the rest off the street and using the Imperius curse to bolster their
numbers.  The Imperius curse was lifted from them once we pointed out it would
lift automatically on their deaths and we would mildly prefer them alive. 
After verifying and double checking they were really innocent, those witches
and wizards were released.  They, and Scrimgeour's people were told they could
either stay under Hogwarts' protection or leave for their own secure hiding
places.  

The three actual Death Eaters revealed that Voldemort had ordered them to take
Harry alive, which was part of why they held back as much as they did.  With
polyjuice, anyone at the party could have really been Harry.  The rest of it
was just our side being superior duelists.  

Ron revived a dozen murdered muggles using their wands, who were invited to
enjoy the protection of Hogwarts like the many other newborn homunculi.  It was
nice not needing to be the one to do it.  Much as I enjoyed my time before the
Gate during human transmutations, knowing someone else was around, willing and
able to do it, made me feel more secure.  

Post owls delivered fresh copies of the Daily Prophet, with a headline
indicating Harry was wanted for questioning in connection with Dumbledore's
death.  Another article announced Scrimgeour's resignation as Minister of
Magic, and appointing Snape as his successor.  A third article announced a new
ministry department, the Muggleborn Registration Commission.  Headed by Dolores
Umbridge, this group claimed that there was no such thing as a muggleborn. 
Instead, they claimed that magical power in the hands of anyone without magical
ancestors was a product of theft.  

It was unclear whether Scrimgeour or myself was more outraged at the paper's
contents.  While Scrimgeour was vowing to make sure the magical world knew he'd
been usurped rather than having retired, I stewed over the implications of
Umbridge's new commission.  When Scrimgeour and his aurors left, I exploded
into a rant.  

"Six years, I have been studying magic!  I have tried stealing the souls of
wizards.  I have tried potions!  I have put so much time and effort into
finding a way to acquire magic powers, and here she is, claiming it's so easy
an untrained muggle eleven year old can do it!   Worse, she's using it as an
excuse to round up innocent people!"  

"We're going to stop her, Greed," said Sloth gently.  

"And we'll get the muggleborns they want to round up to Hogwarts for protection
and education," said James.  

                                     * * *


Arthur and Percy used to work at the Ministry, so were prominent when planning
our strike.  Snape provided details about new security measures in place, and
advice about how best to bypass them.  He also provided a list of Death Eaters
assigned to the Ministry, a list of people under the Imperius curse there, and
a list of people just continuing to work there out of fear of threats to
themselves or their families.  

Anti-disapparition jinxes meant we couldn't plan on using that as an escape
method once we got to the muggleborns being held captive.  Instead, a number of
touch activated portkeys were produced and given to the members of the strike
team.  While Harry wanted to go, we managed to convince him to stay at Hogwarts
and coordinate the rest of the resistance efforts and monitor Voldemort using
their connection.  

Sloth, Lily, Percy, and I made up the strike team. Under the invisibility
cloaks, we walked off Hogwarts grounds and apparated just outside the Ministry
of Magic's new entrance.  We had the luxury of picking our first targets, a
pair of Death Eaters from Snape's list.  After stunning htem from under our
cloaks, we dragged them off into a nearby building.  A hair from each of their
heads were put into flasks of polyjuice, and Lily and Percy took their
appearances.  

To make sure these two wouldn't come around and follow us, I extracted their
souls with two of my coins.  While Percy and Lily changed into their clothes, I
used the grand arcanum array integrated into my wand and successfully harvested
the life force from their soulless bodies to empower the red stone on my wand
tip.  This confirmed a theory I'd never been able to test before.  The human
lives that powered the Philosopher's Stone weren't the same thing as souls, and
both could be harvested from fallen enemies.  

We didn't dare wait for another Death Eater to arrive.  Now that the polyjuice
was in Percy and Lily, we were on a ticking clock.  Sloth and I handed our
wands, watches, and coins over to the other two to carry, then shape shifted
into fleas.  We rode on their heads as they entered separate bathrooms, opened
stalls with special tokens taken from the Death Eaters, and flushed themselves
down the toilet, coming out from fireplaces in the Ministry atrium.

It seemed the new coin operated entry system wasn't an addition to the
security, but a replacement.  The security desk with its wand weighing machine
was gone.  No guards were waving secrecy sensors over people as they came in. 
I supposed it made sense.  Dark detectors wouldn't be much use to dark wizards.
 

Following the information Snape provided, we split up.  Sloth and Lily went
downstairs to rescue the muggleborns currently being held for trial.  Percy and
I headed up to Umbridge's office to get our hands on her files.  With those, we
could find out who was being targeted and hopefully get them to safety before
the Ministry remembered they were hunting them.  

Percy knew his way around this floor.  His confidence combined with his assumed
Death Eater identity meant no one questioned him as he strolled into the work
space of the muggleborn registration commission.  It also meant no one dared
look close enough to notice Percy's expression of shock as he entered the
room.  Mounted to the door to Umbridge's office like a trophy was Mad-Eye
Moody's magical eye.  She must have been among the Death Eaters that night. 
Her stay in Azkaban had apparently helped her network.  

Percy regained his composure and strode up to the door and pulled it open.  He
didn't glance behind him as he closed the door behind us.  The workers did
glance up, but lowered their eyes quickly.  Umbridge wasn't in her office,
which was decorated exactly the same as her office in Hogwarts had been.  I
hopped off Percy's head and shape shifted into Umbridge.  

"Hand me a red stone," I told Percy, making my way to the filing cabinet.  

Percy complied, then put his eye to the peculiar telescopic device attached to
the door.  Apparently, it allowed one to look through Moody's eye on the other
side.  I put a hand on Umbridge's filing cabinet and absorbed the names,
locations, blood statuses, and other details on every person, muggleborn or
not, that the Ministry wanted removed.  Pocketing the burnt out red stone, I
clapped then touched the top of the cabinet.  Blue sparks of alchemic light
surged across it as the ink in the files rearranged itself, scrambling the
information to the point of uselessness.  

"Is it done?" asked Percy when I tapped him on the shoulder.  

"I have all the records and they have nothing," I said proudly.  

"I don't think anyone suspects anything yet.  We should go."  

"Let me have a look," I said.  

Percy stepped aside and I put my eye up to the telescope.  I could see
Umbridge's workers hunched over their desks, eyes downcast.  A set of knobs
allowed me to strip away layers, looking through desks, walls, and clothes.  I
wasn't leaving a tool like this in Death Eater hands.  Eventually, someone
would remember it can see through invisibility cloaks, and that would make our
job much harder.  

"Another stone, quick," I demanded of Percy.  

I removed the telescopic mechanism for examination while Percy got out another
red stone. Using the red stone, I created a fake eye identical to Moody's. 
Then I modified the telescopic attachment into something akin to a muggle view
master.  I pocketed the real eye and reassembled the mechanism with my fake in
place.  Looking through, I saw a still image of the workers hunched over their
desks.  Hopefully, it would fool Umbridge for a while anyway.  

"Is that everything, or did you want to plant some dung bombs while we're
here?" asked Percy, rolling his eyes.  

"The eye was a target of opportunity," I said.  "We can discuss it when the
mission's over."  

I opened the door, putting on the falsely sweet expression Umbridge wore when
addressing her lessers and crossed the muggleborn registration commission work
space with the workers actively avoiding looking up.  In the lift, we headed
down to the bottom level.  

"They're in the old countroom a level below the Department of Mysteries," said
Percy when we were alone in the lift.  "The lift doesn't go all the way down. 
There's a staircase that'll take us the rest of the way."  

"Snape said they're using dementors to guard the prisoners," I said.  "A full
patronus would give us away.  I'll need a patronus pin under my robe."  

Percy rummaged through my bag and found the pin.  He and Lily already had them
under their robes.  Once I had the pin in place, Percy and I descended the
steps.  It was encouraging to see the hall empty despite seating for more than
a dozen outside the courtroom.  My right eye shriveled and vanished in its
socket and I popped Moody's eye in.

My thought was to quickly look through the wall, verify who was there, and
adjust my disguise accordingly.  Instead, I saw Lily chained to the chair in
the center of the court room still in her Death Eater disguise.  She was too
far away to confirm if Sloth was still disguised as a flea in her hair or not. 
Umbridge was presiding over the court.  A cat patronus was shielding her and
her subordinates from the effect of the dozens of dementors in the room.  From
the blank look on Lily's face, they'd taken her patronus pin.  

Trelawney's prophecies rang in my ears.  "You will fall to despair darker than
death."  "You will achieve your goal, but only after losing that which is most
precious to you."  Blue light raced across my body, and I resumed my pale
skinned homunculus form.  My boots bore their transmutation circles once again
and my vest showed off the oroboros mark on my chest.  Flame alchemy arrays
were on the back of each hand and shield arrays were on each wrist.  I ran my
tongue over my pointed, shark like teeth as the last sparks from the
transformation arced through my black, spiked hair.  Moody's blue eye was still
in my right socket, now paired with my slitted purple left eye.  

"Fuck subtlety," I said.  "Summon a full patronus now."  I kicked the wall. 
The transmutation circle on my shoe caused fragments of the wall to explode
like an enormous shotgun.  Dementors were struck by the fragments and tossed
backward.  Moody's eye let me know where Lily was so I could avoid any
fragments heading her way.  

Percy, to his credit, didn't hesitate, and performed the patronus charm before
the dust had settled.  The silver weasel streaked into the room, driving back
those dementors that hadn't been knocked away by my alchemy.  The moment the
silver creature interposed itself, the heavy iron chains fell through Lily's
body.  Sloth was still there.  

"Acio wand!" called out Lily, raising her right hand as she stood.  Her wand,
which had been sitting on the desk in front of Umbridge, flew into her hand.  

I rushed into the court room and stomped a foot.  Glowing blue, dozens of stone
hands reached up from the ground to bind and restrain the dementors.  Percy
threw a stunning hex at the judge's bench and disabled the witch who was taking
the minutes.  

"Sectumsempra!" yelled Lily as she slashed her wand in Umbridge's direction.  A
huge gash opened in the woman's chest where Lily's curse hit.  Umbridge
collapsed, bleeding out.  

"Are you okay?" asked Percy.  "What happened?"  

"The dementors can smell our patronus pins," reported Lily as Umbridge gurgled
and choked on her own blood behind her.  "We got the muggleborns out with the
portkeys, but Umbridge summoned the pin protecting us from the dementors. 
Without it, we were easy prey."  

I quickly retrieved the patronus pin, the remaining portkeys, and the rest of
the confiscated possessions from Umbridge's corpse.  Sloth hopped off Lily's
head and resumed her true form, throwing her arms around me.  Sparing one last
baleful glance at the dementors, I used a portkey to return us to Hogwarts.  

                                     * * *


"When I saw you captured by the dementors, I thought Trelawney's prophecy had
come true and I'd lost you," I said once we were back in the school waiting out
our security quarenteen.  

"It was aweful," said Sloth between bites of chocolate Madam Pomfrey had
provided when we explained about the dementor confrontation.  "That patronus
got there just in time.  I don't know how much longer I could've lasted.  Thank
you, Percy."  

"I'm just glad we made it out of there in one piece," said Percy.  

"And that we did what we went there to do," finished Lily.  "Finishing off that
woman like I should've done sooner was a bonus."  

"The records we recovered should let us get to the other muggleborns well ahead
of the Death Eaters," I said.  "The pickups should be simple and safe enough
that it won't need full combat teams.  We should take some time to recuperate
so we'll be at our best when our next big mission comes."  

"That's a good idea," said Sloth.  "I don't think I could take another mission
involving dementors right now."  

Harry came in with Filch to unlock our manacles a few hours later.  After
getting our things back, Sloth and I followed Harry down to the Chamber of
Secrets to help process the captured Death Eater wands.  Ron was already
waiting with a stack of coins prepared with blood seals.  

"Harry, I wanted to ask," I began when the door to the Chamber slid closed
behind us, "what are we going to do with Moody's magical eye?  Is the plan to
use it for castle security, or did you want to have someone on each strike team
wear it?"  

"What?" asked Harry.  "I was going to bury it.  Who knows what the Death Eaters
did with the rest of his body.  This is probably our only chance to give him a
proper burial."

"That eye is a unique artifact that could be of inestimable help in the war
effort," I argued.  "Just because the Death Eaters didn't see that is no reason
for us to overlook it.  They wouldn't have gotten the drop on us in the Hall of
Prohpecy so easily if one of us had been wearing it then."  

"He's got a point," said Ron.  "I mean, if Dumbledore was really dead would you
bury the Elder Wand with him?"  

"I didn't know Moody very well," said Sloth, "but I know he wanted to keep us
safe.  If his eye could help do that, don't you think he'd want us to use it
instead of burrying it?"  

"Okay, we'll keep the eye," said Harry, "but we aren't mounting it to a wall
like Umbridge did."  

"Agreed," I said.  "Any of the homunculi could use it, then regenerate their
missing eye when they take it out."  

"Not me," said Ron, emphatically.  "Regeneration or no, gouging out an eye
hurts."  

"I just shape shifted mine away," I said.  "No pain."  

"Okay, but it is still gross," said Ron.  "I mean, he was wearing it when he
died."  

"You don't have to be the one to use it, Ron," said Harry.  

"Look," I said, "I was already planning on going grave robbing if you stuck to
your 'bury it' plan.  I'll volunteer to use it if no one else wants to."  

"Take it," said Harry, holding out the eye.  "Moody willed all his possessions
to the Order, so that means I'm allowed to decide what we do with it.  Most of
the rest of the Order members who could use it won't want to.  So, I'm just
giving it to you.  Call it an early Christmas present.  Not like you haven't
given me some doozies."  

"I won't dishonor his memory," I said solemnly as I accepted the eye and
affixed it in my socket.  

"That settled, let's get back to raising dead people who want to be raised,"
said Ron, indicating the captured wands.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Scrimgeour survived because Harry and his parents forced him to clean house the
previous year during Christmas.  That slowed down the Death Eaters' efforts to
infiltrate and assassinate him and resulted in them successfully driving him
off, but not capturing or killing him. 
***** Romantic Interlude 25 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 61) Romantic Interlude 25
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 62.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


"I have to admit, I was worried Harry'd put the eye users into shifts and it
would be like fourth year all over again," said Sloth when we were alone in a
quiet corner of the castle.  

"So was I," I admitted.  "Of course, even if he had, we'd have had no problem
getting privacy this year."  

"Oh?" asked Sloth, intrigued.  

"You know my mind doesn't stop working on a problem just because it isn't an
immediate concern," I said.  

"It's one of your most attractive features," replied Sloth.  "Now, dazzle me
with what you've dome up with."  

I took a small, metal box out of my bag and handed it to Sloth.  She lifted the
lid, revealing a finely appointed scale model apartment.  I'd used alchemy to
get the details just right, as though the furniture had been magically shrunk
instead of just built to scale.  

"I got the idea thinking about giants," I said.  "Under normal circumstances,
you can't just shrink or enlarge a living creature without doing at least some
redesign to account for the cube square law.  Magic can compensate, of course,
but our only option there would be potions.  Then I realized, with red stones
in us, our strength and durability have very little to do with our physical
structures.  You can lift the same amount in this form as you can in your adult
form.  

"So, we can use our shape shifting powers to shrink down so tiny no one could
see us even if they were looking."  

"I was hoping you'd have a plan when you gave Harry the keys to our lab's
living quarters," said Sloth.  "I presume the box is soundproof?"  

"It is," I said.  "Did you want to give it a try?"  

"Absolutely," said Sloth.  She handed me her equipment to store in my bag then
stepped into the small box, shrinking to fit as she went.  I carried the box
back to the Ravenclaw dorm, put my things, including Moody's eye, into my
alchemically locked trunk, then set the box down on top of the trunk.  I pulled
the lid shut as I shrunk down to join Sloth.  

When I arrived, Sloth was seated on the bed, her legs dangling off the floor,
staring around at the furniture and frowning.  I followed her looks and
couldn't see what was wrong.  Her question made it clear what was going on.  

"Am I at the right scale?"  

"You look fine to me," I said.  "If anything does end up off, we'll fix the
room."  

"We're in your dorm room, aren't we?" she asked.  "I saw the bed curtains when
you opened the lid."  

"That's right," I said.  "Fortunately, the enchantments on the stairs have no
problem letting a girl into the boys' dorms."  

Lying back on the bed, Sloth said, "We can sleep together every night.  I can
wake up next to you every morning even after the term starts."  

"Every night," I assured her, lying down next to her and tenderly kissing her
lips.  

"If we had magic, that'd make one hell of a patronus," said Sloth when we broke
our kiss.  

Our clothes vanished, and we were lying side by side on the bed together.  We
kissed again, a slow, lingering kiss, while I put one hand behind her head, and
the other groped her flat chest.  Sloth put both hands on the sides of my head
and shifted onto her side, leaning into my touch.  

Breaking our kiss, Sloth climbed on top of me.  Straddling one of my legs,
Sloth brought her lips to one of my nipples and latched on.  I let out a moan
of appreciation and reached down to grope my love's butt while she kissed her
way across my chest to suckle at my other nipple.  She made a brief stop
halfway to run her tongue along the design of the oroboros mark that served as
the access point for my mind and soul.  I trusted her with both just as she did
for me.  

"I want to give you a blowjob," said Sloth, looking up at me.  "I want to taste
your warm cum as it goes down my throat.  But I also want more skin contact
that I usually get with those.  Do you mind if I lay across you upside down
while I do it?"  

"Of course not," I said.  

She crawled in circles until I was staring down at her butt, and she'd pressed
her chest and stomach against my bare skin.  Turning her head to kill at me
while gripping the shaft of my penis with both hands, she said, "And could you
not try and turn this into a 69?  I'm happy to have your hands all over me, but
I want to wait to have my pussy licked until after."  

I grabbed her butt cheeks with both hands and squeezed, then said, "As long as
we're just talking about 'not now' and not 'not ever'.  I like the taste of
your pussy."  

"Of course it's a 'not now'," said Sloth.  "Do you think I'm going to suck you
off again and again if you're not going to reciprocate?  Okay, I would, but I
wouldn't be happy about it."  

We smiled at each other, then she turned and put her lips to my penis.  I
groped Sloth's legs, then ran my hands up her butt and down her back while she
sucked the head of my penis into her mouth.  Sloth used a gentle suction with
her mouth and a slow stroke with her hands.  There was no urgency, just both of
us in the moment with each other.  

It took a while, but neither of us was in a hurry.  Her body heat where she
pressed her skin against mine felt good enough that I was almost disappointed
when my orgasm came. She didn't change her pace when it happened.  She just
lazily started swallowing as she continued to stroke the shaft of my penis.  

When I ran dry, Sloth stopped swallowing and set her arms down across my
thighs.  She continued to mouth my flaccid penis, and I closed my eyes.  In
that position, I drifted off to sleep.  

I awoke to find Sloth draped crosswise across my stomach.  Some shifting had
happened in the night.  Her breathing was slow and even.  She was sound asleep.
 

I just laid there for a long moment, then I gently lifted her off me and laid
her onto her back.  I watched her smooth, flat chest rise and fall.  We'd slept
together often, but that familiarity only increased, rather than dimmed, her
beauty in my eyes.  

On hands and knees, I crawled into position, breathing deeply the aroma of her
pussy.  Then, with slow, deliberate movements, I started to run my tongue over
her hairless pubic mound.  Sloth made a pleased noise in her sleep as I parted
her labia with my tongue and started to tease at her clit.  

Increasing the speed and pressure I used with my tongue and gripping her thighs
with either hand for leverage, soon brought my lover to full wakefulness with a
start.  Disoriented and unsure what was going on,s he tried to employ her
intangibility powers on reflex.  Having expected this from previous attempts at
wake up sex with her, I thwarted this reflex by using the array on my back to
subtly shift the composition of the outer layer of my skin between a handful of
configurations.  

Once she was fully awake, I felt both of her hands on the back of my head
urging me further on, and I stopped interfering with her powers.  Grinding her
crotch into my face, Sloth soon reached her climax, calling out
unintelligibly.  I swallowed a mouthful of her juices, gave her one last once
over with my tongue as she trembled slightly from the aftereffects of her
orgasm, then I climbed up the bed to lay down next to her.  

"Good morning, Sloth," I said smiling.  

"You figured out wake up sex!" she said, grinning broadly.  

"I don't think I would've gotten there if you hadn't been so into being tied
up," I said, kissing her on the cheek.  

"We're doing that more often," she said firmly.  

"And I thought I was supposed to be Greed," I teased.  

"I'll fuck you awake if I'm the first one up in the morning," Sloth promised. 
"Speaking of which, you haven't cum yet this morning.  I'm up for anything."  

"Anything?" I asked, a mischievous grin spreading over my lips.  

"We really are meant for each other," said Sloth.  "We both keep making the
mistake that the other person isn't going to like what we have in mind.  So,
let's hear what you want to try."  

"Well, we're still shrunk," I said.  "I'm about a half inch tall and you're
about a quarter inch at the moment.  I was wondering if you'd mind getting
smaller for me."  

"More baby sex?" asked Sloth.  "I liked it last time."  

"That does sound good, and now I'm tempted, but maybe wait on that until next
time.  What I was actually thinking was for you to shrink down with your
current proportions and rub your whole body on my erection."  

"That does sound interesting," said Sloth.  Blue light crackled over her body
as she complied with my request and shrunk down until she was slightly shorter
than my fully erect penis.  

I reached over and picked her up, depositing her on top of me as I laid back,
propping my head up with a pillow so I could watch.  Sloth reached out and
touched my skin with one tiny hand.  She leaned forward and found my penis
could support her weight.  Gradually, she pressed her body against my penis,
wrapping both arms around as best she could and pressing her face to the head
of my penis, rubbing her cheek against it.  

"Okay, I was right.  That does feel good," I said.  

"I haven't even gotten started yet," said Sloth.  

Sloth hooked a leg around either side of my penis and ground her crotch against
me.  Supporting herself with her arms, she licked and mouthed as her face
lowered past the head and onto the shaft.  Her full body was engaged, and
watching her as she humped and sucked and rubbed her body against my penis put
those feelings she was providing into context.  

She turned around to face me, leaning back against the shaft of my penis and
rubbing her butt against it.  I was close to climax.  I reached out and picked
Sloth up.  She spread her legs as wide as she could manage when she saw herself
being lowered onto the tip of my penis.  The timing was just about perfect, and
Sloth found herself being held over a relative geyser of cum.  It covered her
entire body head to toe, with a lot getting into her vagina and butt purely as
a result of the fluid pressure.  

Sloth laid very still when I set her down on the bed next to me.  Eventually,
she sat up and said, "I don't think I've ever been so completely soaked.  This
was a great idea."  

"Unfortunately, the time turners don't shrink with us," I said.  "It's time for
us to get back to helping win the war."  

She sighed.  The said, "Tonight, though."  

"Tonight," I agreed.  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Growning and shrinking is an inherent aspect of this kind of shape shifting,
and it's only because they've had so much else on their minds that it's taken
them this long to try it. 
***** Identifying the Final Horcrux *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 62) Identifying the Final
Horcrux
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


With Voldemort in command of the Ministry through Snape, Scrimgeour was trying
to run a government in exile from Hogwarts.  He'd managed to expose the fact
that Voldemort had taken over to the general wizarding public.  Snape was
undermining Voldemort's legitimacy with a series of brutal crackdowns, making
it impossible for people to ignore the fact that they were in a country ruled
by a dark lord.  

Between the Daily Prophet reporters, the resisting citizens, and more muggles
than expected, I found myself needing to make weekly trips to the Minister's
office via portkey to exchange Snape's filled soul coins for empty ones.  Care
had been taken to ensure the rescued souls didn't reveal themselves, and thus
Snape, once returned to the flesh.  Members of the Order of the Phoenix split
their time between bringing targeted muggleborns and their families to Hogwarts
and counseling the new homunculi about the importance of pretending to be dead.
 

Every life Snape saved increased the chances he'd be found out as a traitor,
but he was, at most, indifferent to that possibility.  His courage appeared
greater still in light of the fact that, like Moody, Snape shared bonds of love
with no one, and thus could not be called back by the Resurrection Stone. 
Assuming Voldemort didn't have his soul fed to the dementors.  

As we desperately tried to save as many people as we could from Voldemort's
regime, some unexpected good news came in.  Lupin and Tonks were going to have
a baby.  Tonks had gone off red stones in an effort to avoid poisoning her
child, and asked me to remove any still in her system, which I did.  Using
Moody's eye to check on the fetus and a red stone to clear away any lingering
red water traces from the placenta whenever crystals started to form, I was
able to offer meaningful prenatal care.  

"So, homunculi aren't sterile," said Sloth after Tonks left the examination
room.  

"We'll have to keep a close eye on things," I said.  "We can only guess at the
sorts of complications she might have.  It's probably a good thing she's a
metamorphmagus.  She's used to consciously controlling her form.  Less likely
she'll accidentally shape shift the baby away."  

"I might be able to have children too," said Sloth, deep in thought.  "I'd have
to shift to an adult form and hold it, but it's an option.  I'd given up on the
idea."  

"Do you want children?" I asked.  

"I'm not sure," she admitted.  "It's not something I've given much thought to. 
Definitely not now, but somewhere down the road...  It's good to be an
immortal."  

"You'll get no argument from me," I said.  

                                     * * *


The House tables in the Great Hall had been magically enlarged along with the
Hall itself to accommodate the many guests now living in the castle.  Adult
wizards sat at the table of the House they attended in school.  Muggles sat
with their family members when possible.  The muggles rescued from Death Eater
attacks who lacked wizard relatives occupied the space at the Slytherin table
where the majority of the Death Eaters and their allies would have been
sitting.  The true Slytherins made every effort to be welcoming to the muggles,
at least in part to demonstrate to everyone they weren't with the Death Eaters.
 

While the carriages and boats were too undefended to be used this year, it
would take more than the most powerful Dark Lord of all time seizing control of
magical Britain to stop the Hogwarts sorting ceremony.  The ritual was a
welcome bit of normalcy after everything that had happened.  The hat's song
this year praised the unity we were demonstrating, and reminded us all of the
virtues each House contributed that together made the school safe and strong.  

The new first years were more nervous than any year before them.  Half of them
had been brought to Hogwarts with their families weeks ago by Order members
dispatched to warn them of the danger of the Death Eaters.  Others had been
brought by their families, who knew full well that the castle was the only
place they might be safe.  The combined crowd of students, warriors, and
refugees occupying the tables focused their attention on the new witches and
wizards who would still be beginning their education.  We cheered every
student, whatever house they were sorted into.  When the last student was
sorted, Professor McGonagall rose and the Great Hall fell silent.  

"New and returning students, distinguished alumni, and honored guests, it is my
distinct privilege to welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts.  Ordinarily,
I would hold off on any announcements until after the start of term feast, but
this is not an ordinary year.  For the sake of everyone's appetites, I will
attempt to be brief.  

"As many of you are no doubt aware, the loss of Professor Dumbledore last year
has necessitated a number of staffing changes.  Because my duties as
headmistress will no longer leave me time to teach, I would like to welcome
your new Transfiguration professor, James Potter.  Joining him as your new
Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is Sirius Black.  While I am certain
both men will be happy to answer any questions you may have, I want to offer my
personal assurances that both have been thoroughly vetted by both myself and
the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour.  

"Now, many of you will have noticed changes in the castle's layout,
particularly the shrunken windows.  While the Dark Lord Tom Riddle has not yet
seen fit to camp an army outside our gates, the faculty is taking that threat
seriously.  As such, we have officially declared the castle to be in a state of
siege.  

"I am afraid that both Quidditch and Hogsmeade weekends are canceled until
further notice, and that Care of Magical Creatures classes and flying lessons
for first years will take place indoors.  Additionally, while Hogwarts has
always had a curfew, I'm afraid circumstances require us to be more strict in
enforcing it than usual.  Anyone caught out of bed will be assumed to be a
Death Eater infiltrator or under the Imperius curse and confined to a cell in
the dungeons under the supervision of Mr. Filch.  It may take some time to
confirm a case of mere rule breaking, so I strongly recommend avoiding the
situation altogether.  

"A bit of good news regarding our current situation.  Despite our large number
of guests and our inability to send people out for basic provisions, the house
elves have assured me that they will have no trouble providing the same quality
of food we have all come to expect.  And on that note, let the feast begin."  

"I've spoken with the house elves about it," said Luna as roast pig, boiled
potatoes, and dozens of other flawlessly prepared dishes materialized before
us.  "They're actually really excited.  I don't think they've been feeling
challenged lately.  Even Winky perked up and pitched in."  

"Wow," I said, filling my plate.  "And I was thinking I might have to stop
eating to help stretch our food stores."  

McGonagall announced James and Slughorn as hew heads of house after we'd
finished desert, then we prefects escorted our newest housemates up to their
dorms.  Ravenclaw tower was one of the rooms most effected by all the security
changes over the summer.  The enormous windows overlooking the grounds had been
reduced to archery slits.  The enchantments on the brass eagle knocker had been
modified to accept an emergency password known only to the prefects that would
both open the door and raise the alarm if used.  The fireplaces had been
disconnected from the floo network.  The many bookshelves stood unmoved.  Some
things were sacred.  

                                     * * *


Last term, NEWT students studied wordless magic.  This year, we were studying
wandless magic.  Both wands and spoken incantations served to increase the
power and control of a spell.  Being able to perform complex magic without
those aids prepared students to not be completely helpless when disarmed and
meant that spells cast with both would be more potent.  Wands were still used
for new spells we were learning this year, but all the spells we'd already been
taught, we'd have to perform wandlessly.  Sloth and I were able to manage by
making sure to keep red stones in our pockets.  

James was in a hurry to demonstrate himself responsible as a transfiguration
teacher, and so we jumped right in to conjuring matter out of nothing.  As I'd
been doing much the same in charms for some time now, I didn't find the spells
difficult to emulate.  The theory continued to be pleasantly challenging, but
nothing we did was more difficult to emulate than that snake conjuring charm
from second year.  

While most of the school treated Charms as a soft option, we were deep into
territory I couldn't duplicate from our first day back with undetectable
extension charms.  No amount of practice or encouragement would make alchemy
capable of half the charms taught this year.  I continued to study the theory
and go through the wand motions for the spells, but it was pretty clear I
wasn't going to pass my charms NEWT unless this was the year I cracked granting
myself real magic.  

Sirius' teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts was very differant from his
time impersonating Umbridge.  He dispensed entirely with Ministry approved
curriculum and recommendations, and seemed utterly unconcerned with the
contents of the NEWT.  He instead focused on the threat at hand.  

"Most of you can already form a full bodied patronus," said Sirius in his first
lesson.  "You're all going to be able to within the next few weeks.  Dementors
are the darkest and strongest beings in Tom's armies, and you will be able to
drive them off.  Once I'm sure you've mastered that, we're going to get
familiar with the Dark Arts themselves. Before this year is out, you'll be able
to turn fiendfyre against its master, recognize a horcrux on sight, heal wounds
inflicted with dark magic, and generally understand the tool set of a dark
wizard better than most dark wizards do."  

                                     * * *


Despite using my time turner to attend my NEWT classes, the first week passed
surprisingly fast.  The Death Eaters were consolidating their gains and hadn't
tried to make a move on Hogwarts yet.  Harry used small doses of felix felicis
to help him look into Voldemort's mind.  Grevorovitch wasn't an easy man to
find even before Krum sent him word Voldemort was looking for him.  

Taking advantage of Voldemort's single minded focus on the Elder Wand, we used
the resources at Hogwarts to look into artifacts of the remaining founders. 
Everything we read in the library indicated the sword and hat were the only
significant artifacts Godric Gryffindor left behind.  As to Ravenclaw, there
was only one option: the Lost Diadem.  

In seeking founders artifacts, Voldemort would have had to use the same
resources we had.  Madam Pince, the Hogwarts librarian had always considered
her books her top priority, and had kept immaculate records of who had checked
out what books.  Tom Riddle's reading list helped verify Dumbledore's theory. 
Voldemort had definitely been seeking Ravenclaw's diadem.  It was impossible,
however, that he had found it using just the resources of the library.  

While the eight of us waited in the Chamber of Secrets for Headless Nick in
anticipation of our fencing lessons, Harry questioned Slytherin's basilisk on
everything she had discussed with Riddle.  Apparently, Riddle hadn't given any
thought to the ancient serpent as a potential source of information, and merely
regarded her as a weapon to dispatch against his enemies.  Not making the same
mistake, Harry did ask what she knew about the founders, their artifacts, and
particularly, Ravenclaw's diadem.  She'd been kept in the Chamber of Secrets at
the time, visited only by Slytherin himself, so she didn't have anything useful
about the last horcurx.  

"Hey, Nick," greeted Harry as the Gryffindor house ghost floated in, "do you
know if any of the castle's ghosts were around in the founders' time?"  

"As a matter of fact, the Bloody Barron often boasts that he was hand picked
for his house by Slytherin himself.  I believe he may be the oldest ghost in
Hogwarts.  Why do you ask?"  

"The Slytherin house ghost?" asked Harry.  "Tom was looking for immortality,
and the Bloody Barron would be easy to get on his own for a private chat."  

"He's also terrifying," said Ron, "but that'd only be a deterrent for people
who aren't planning to become immortal dark lords when they grew up."  

"Do you think you could convince the Barron to meet us?" asked Hermione.  "We
need to ask him about Tom Riddle's school days."  

"If you like, I can bring him down here at tomorrow's lesson," said Sir
Nicholas.  "He happens to be quite a skilled swordsman himself, and I'd love to
show him the progress you've all made."  

                                     * * *


Slytherin's house ghost was a dour faced nobleman, who's expensive shirt was
stained with spectral blood.  Heavy looking spectral chains clanked and
clattered loudly as the spirit wearing them followed Headless Nick into the
Chamber of Secrets.  Though he had been personally chosen as a student by
Salazar Slytherin, this was the first time the ancient specter had been
inside.  He spoke in a low, raspy voice.  

"You wished to speak with me?"  

"Yes, er, thank you for coming," said Harry.  

The Bloody Barron stared with a morose expression on his face and waited for
Harry to continue.  

"Do you know where the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw is?" asked Luna, getting
to the point.  

"No," said the Barron.  "Rowena Ravenclaw stopped wearing it in the years
before her death.  After her passing, it was never found among her
possessions."  

"Did Tom Riddle ask you about the Diadem or any artifacts of the founders while
he was in school?" asked Hermione.  

The Bloody Barron puffed up, looking affronted and said, "I wear these chains
as a penance for my sins.  I have never pretended to be perfect.  But for all
my failings, I would never betray the secrets of the founders.  I know the
reputation my house has garnered-"  

"This isn't about you being a Slytherin," said Ginny.  "I'm a Gryffindor and
Riddle used me like he used everyone else.  He was charming and good at
feigning sympathy."  

"We're not looking to assign blame," said Neville.  "We just want to stop him
and we think he was looking to make Ravenclaw's diadem into a horcrux.  If he
succeeded, we need to destroy it."  

"I don't know where it is, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell Tom Riddle or
you," declared the Bloody Barron.  "Sir Nicholas, I believe I've seen enough. 
However their fencing is going, I won't stand here and have my honor questioned
in Salazar Slytherin's own chamber."  

When the Bloody Barron had left, I asked Sir Nicholas, "Why does he wear those
chains?"  

"I've never asked," said Headless Nick.  

"In five hundred years?" I asked.  

"It's called tact," said Nick.  

"Tactful or no," said Sloth, "we know Tom got information out of Slughorn.  If
anyone who was here when he was here knows anything about his plans, potential
artifacts he'd have wanted to make a horcrux out of, or anything else that
might be connected, we need to know about it."  

"I will speak with the other ghosts," promised Sir Nicholas.  "In the meantime,
I'll need you to pair off and switch on your blades.  We will be sparring at
full force and speed.  Double check that your blades are set to nonlethal."  

                                     * * *


For the next few weeks, we were able to focus on our schoolwork, since neither
information about the final horcrux, nor about the location of Voldemort's
snake was forthcoming.  The workload in NEWT year was about what I was
expecting, and made for a terrific distraction to keep from dwelling on the
lack of progress at eliminating Voldemort.  Fortunately, he was no closer to
finding Gregorovitch.  He'd found the wand maker's home weeks ago, but Krum's
forewarning had allowed him to go on the run.  

Voldemort's growing frustration was making Harry's job easier.  With every
flash of anger, Voldemort's occlumency barriers weakened, allowing Harry a
brief glimpse into his mind.  Harry was being cautious in his probing, and
hadn't seen anything horcrux related.  He did learn a good deal about
Voldemort's day to day activities.  

Voldemort didn't sleep.  Whatever magical transformations he had undergone
removed the human need for a period of dormancy.  This basically killed any
thought of taking advantage of his inability to use dark detectors and
assassinating him when he was vulnerable.  He'd also modified himself to be
immune to most poisons, shutting down that avenue of attack.  

Dumbledore said that Nagini not being with him was a good sign, since that
meant he wasn't worried for the safety of his horcurx, but wherever she was,
Harry only ever managed brief flashes of the interior of a dilapidated house,
not enough to find the location and stage a raid to kill it.  

I would have thought that in his enthusiasm, Hagrid would have run out of
terrifying monsters by now, but I was wrong.  He went the extra mile for our
education, smuggling foreign creatures into the school, under the noses of the
Death Eater controlled Ministry.  Charlie even helped smuggle Norbert back in. 
Charlie had identified the Norwegan Ridgeback as female and had redubbed her
Norberta.  He was helping Hagrid keep Norberta under control and did a guest
lecture on dragon handling.  

Trelawney's Divination classes were requiring ever more precise interpretations
of our star charts, tarot cards, rune stones, and tea laves.  Also, a first in
the class, she was now checking our predictions for accuracy.  Apparently,
there were existing charts and tables for determining a seer's accuracy that
accounted for the number of details in the prophecy, the length of time until
it came to pass, and how many of the details hit or missed.  This would have
been a really useful tool earlier, but Professor Trelawney said introducing
such cold, rigid instruments into the process to early would stunt the
development of the inner eye.  

Sirius was enjoying the chance to demonize the so-called head Death Eater,
Snape, during his Defense class.  When discussing how many of the most
dangerous dark wizards create their own spells, he used Snape's sectumsempra as
an example.  The spell created sword-like gashes that were resistant to
conventional healing, requiring a specific countercurse to mend the damage. 
Sirius recommended stealing enemy spells for your own use whenever possible,
commenting on the irony of besting a dark wizard using a spell they created
themselves.  

At the beginning of October, Harry called us down to the Chamber of Secrets. 
The Grey Lady, ghost of Ravenclaw tower,had come to him with information on the
Lost Diadem.  Apparently, it had never been lost.  The Grey Lady, known in life
as Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena's daughter, had stolen the diadem and run away to
the forests of Albania.  The Bloody Barron had been sent to bring her back to
Hogwarts, but had ended up killing her.  He then killed himself for that
failure and continues to punish himself for it a thousand years later.  

"She told Tom about the Diadem," said Harry.  "We know what the last horcrux
was.  Helena told him exactly how to find it."  

"We should check the original hiding spot," I said.  "If it stayed hidden for a
thousand years there, he might have decided that was a good spot to leave it."
 

"He didn't leave a horcrux in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry reminded me.  "We
should still check, but let's not get our hopes up.  Plus, there's still the
snake before this is all done."  

"Still, at least knowing for sure what it is we're looking for leaves us closer
than we were," said Hermione, encouragingly.  "Now, we have a complete list of
horcruxes."  

"Oh no," said Harry, suddenly, closing his eyes.  "He's found him.  Tom caught
up with Gregorovitch."  

"Where are they?" asked Sloth.  "We can try and mount a rescue."  

"It's... it's too late," said Harry, blinking back tears.  "He's already dead. 
Tom took what he needed from Gregorovitch's mind then killed him.  He saw the
thief who stole the Elder Wand, but neither Tom nor Gregorovitch recognized him
as Grindewald.  It's only a matter of time before he figures it out."  

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand comfortingly, grounding him back in his own body
and mind once the vision from Voldemort had passed.  

"Was Tom still using his phoenix feather wand when he killed Gregorovitch?"
asked Ron.  "Did he use the killing curse?"  

"He did," said Harry.  "I don't think he's destroying his own wand until he has
the Elder wand as his replacement."  

"So, we can still get Gregorovitch back if we can take Tom's wand or pit him
against Harry again for another prior incantum," said Ron, nodding.  

"Will we know when he figures out it's Grindewald he's after?" asked Neville.  

"I don't know," admitted Harry.  "I can usually get in when he's feeling strong
emotions, and I think that eureka moment will qualify, but it isn't a sure
thing."  

"So, is it back to regular classes until then?" asked Luna.  

Harry nodded.  "I'll send Percy to check for the diadem in Albania.  He was
under Crouch Sr. in the Department of International Magical Cooperation."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Both sides are making progress toward their goals, but only the light side
knows they're in a race. 
***** The Advantages of the Light Side *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 63) The Advantages of the
Light Side
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


By Halloween, Voldemort still hadn't had his eureka moment.  Sloth and had both
stopped disguising ourselves among our fellow students, and had taken, instead,
to using our shape shifting powers to find privacy in the overcrowded school. 
Every night, we shrunk down until we could fit comfortably inside a snuffbox I
kept on top of my trunk in Ravenclaw tower, and fell asleep in each other's
arms.  

On the night after the Halloween feast, I woke with a sudden realization.  I
shook Sloth awake, both to share my insight, and to make sure she was all
right.  Given the number of predictions Trelawney had made about something
awful happening to her, I was a little on edge.  

"Greed?  What's wrong?" Sloth asked as she faded back into consciousness.  

"I cracked it," I said, not completely sure how I felt about my
accomplishment.  "I know how the two of us can get magic."  

"You did?  How?" she was fully awake now, smiling and hanging on my every word.
 

"It's not a perfect plan," I hedged.  "The method I'm pretty sure will work
probably isn't what we want to use, but it gives us a direction to go to look
for something more practical."  

"What's the method?" asked Sloth.  

"Horcruxes," I said.  "People haven't experimented much with them, for obvious
reasons, but based on Harry, we know making another person a horcrux involves
them getting your magical powers.  He's a natural parselmouth because he's a
horcrux."  

"You think of someone makes us into horcruxes like Harry, we'll be able to do
magic?  But I have Lockheart's soul and still can't do it."  

"Horcruxes fundamentally alter the nature of the soul fragment," I said.  "If a
human dies, the soul just detaches harmlessly from the body, but destroying a
horcurx destroys the piece of soul outright.  There's also a fragment of
consciousness in the soul fragment that I deliberately wiped clean when
harvesting Lockheart's soul."  

"That would explain why Lucius Malfoy still has his powers.  You never cleared
his consciousness.  I'm still not sure how this helps us, though."  

"It doesn't," I said.  "Not really.  A horcurx is created through murder, and
regret unmakes it.  If we use the kind of sadistic dark wizard who'd never
regret what he did like Tom, we'd be contributing to keeping a person like that
immortal.  A good wizard would never do it in the first place, and would
eventually regret it if he did.  And that's laying aside the basic moral issue
of murdering people for power that neither of us is on board with."  

"True," said Sloth.  "Killing in battle isn't the same as murder, and the
former won't do the job for making a horcrux."  

"The thing is," I said, "there's been so little research on horcruxes, I'm not
sure where to begin looking for more information."  

"Why not follow in the footsteps of the Three Brothers?" asked Sloth.  

"The ones who made the Deathly Hallows?" I asked, confused.  

"Come on, you've figured out what really happened, haven't you?"  

"What really happened?" I repeated.  

"So, I really got there before you did?" asked Sloth, elated.  "Okay, you know
how the story opens.  Three brothers come upon a dangerous river and use their
magic to cross it safely.  For doing so, Death offers each of them a reward. 
The story goes on from there with the brothers being destroyed by their gifts,
but the important thing is the river no one could cross without dying, magic
used to survive it, and the brothers leaving with objects that are possible to
make but who's principals no one's been able to figure out in the hundreds of
years since."  

"I'm still not sure I understand," I admitted.  

"The river in the story was the Gate," said Sloth.  "Probably the same
permanently open archway we entered through.  No idea who opened it originally,
but random muggles stumbling across it would end up dismembered and dead
quick.  I think the brothers found it and conjured that veil that stops the
Gate Children from reaching out."  

"They would've seen the Truth in the process, granting them the knowledge
needed to make their famous Hallows," I said, catching on.  

"Exactly," said Sloth.  "Everything's in there.  All the answers.  You just
need the right context if you're going to retain a particular piece of it."  

"So, with all the magical theory I've learned, and this new piece of the
puzzle, it might be as simple as opening the Gate."  

"And if you're lucky, you'll also come out of it with the ability to make
Hallows too," added Sloth.  

"Do you think?" I asked.  

"Only one way to find out," she countered.  

Sloth and I both clapped our hands, and the Gate opened.  Shadowy black hands
reached out and began deconstructing our bodies.  I let my regenerative powers
keep me intact while I focused on the Truth.  The horcurx technique would work,
but no way around the obvious flaws was within the narrow range of omniscience
I could properly internalize.  As to the Hallows, all the information was
there.  Improved wand design concepts, a theoretical framework for longer
lasting spells like the ones on Harry's invisibility cloak,and a proper
explanation of the underlying principals of the Resurrection Stone.  

The Gate swung shut, and Sloth and I looked at one another as we finished
regenerating.  I spoke first.  "The Resurrection Stone really does work because
the bonds of love are stronger than death."  

"It fits with the sacrificial protection saving Harry from the killing curse,"
said Sloth.  "I don't think any magic or alchemy short of an enormous
Philosopher's Stone will let me bring back the people she killed."  

                                     * * *


I was starting to suspect the "despair darker than death" Trelawney warned
Sloth about had nothing to do with dementors.  She was still carrying around a
lot of guilt from a time in her life when her father had her under what
amounted to mind control and used her as a weapon.  The Resurrection Stone, and
related knowledge had seemed like a way to make things right once and for all,
and finally leave that chapter of her life behind.  Finding out that not only
would the Stone not work for what she wanted, but even the underlying principle
it operated on was useless to her was not good for her mood.  

If we didn't have the routine of going to class and studying for the NEWT, I'm
not sure she'd have been able to motivate herself to get out of bed.  As it
was, she stayed functional by burying herself in schoolwork, even going over my
notes from subjects she'd dropped or never bothered to take in order to keep
her mind occupied.  It was a godsend when, in mid November, Harry approached us
with a mission.  

Nagini had been located.  Voldemort's snake horcrux had been left to keep watch
over the small village of Godric's Hallow.  The Potters' family home was there,
along with their graves, though those had been emptied years ago when James and
Lily came back as homunculi.  Apparently, she was stationed there inside the
animated corpse of an old woman so she could report to Voldemort if Harry came
to visit the town.  

Regulus Black was practically bounding on his tiptoes in anticipation of the
mission, and while Harry entrusted him with the Sword of Gryffindor, he wanted
Sloth and I to go along and keep the former Death Eater on mission.  He
especially wanted us to keep from making a scene by cutting down what looked
like an old woman in the street.  I was to use Moody's eye to verify our target
before we took action.  

Portkeys deposited the three of us outside the village.  We'd dressed in muggle
coats and scarves, and I wore a knitted cap pulled down over the enchanted
false eye.  Regulus' coat was long enough to conceal the Sword of Gryffindor.  

No one gave us a second look as I looked through walls into people's houses and
inside people's bodies, trying to spot the snake before she spotted us.  I
found her inside a dusty, ill kept home.  Wanting to maintain the element of
surprise, the three of us joined hands and stepped through the wall right into
the room with Nagini.  

I clapped, and a layer of frost covered the windows so no one looking in would
see what was about to transpire.  Sloth circled toward the nearest exit to
block it off.  Regulus flung open his coat and drew Gryffindor's sword.  

"They say you can see and hear through this creature's eyes, Lord Voldemort,"
said Regulus, making sure Tom was paying attention.  "Know it was Regulus Black
who cut down your serpent and severed this connection to the mortal world."  

As Regulus rushed at the old woman, he swung the sword clumsily overhead.  He'd
obviously never studied swordsmanship.  Despite that, the blade struck home,
cleaving into the shoulder of the corpse puppet Nagini hid within.  Nagini
quickly exited the body as Regulus tried to dislodge the weapon from the
discarded corpse.  

Nagini tried to bite Sloth to get her out of the way and escape the room. 
Sloth smirked as Nagini's jaw and venomous fangs were severed from her body by
the same application of the Ultimate Escape that had caused Loki's death years
ago.  Impressive reflexes allowed Nagini to spring back away from Sloth before
she lost any more flesh to Sloth's powers.  

Dripping blood from the open wound on her face, Voldemort's serpent sprang at
Regulus just as he'd managed to free the sword.  His body constricted by the
snake, he couldn't raise the sword for a fresh strike.  I snapped my fingers,
setting both Nagini and Regulus on fire with flame alchemy.  Not being able to
regenerate, Nagini got he worst of it and reflexively loosened her coils to try
and escape the flames.  

A wave of blue alchemic light passed over Regulus' face, restoring him to
perfect health as he brought the basilisk venom infused, goblin silver blade
down on the wounded and writing snake.  The twisting stopped and the snake laid
dead at our feet.  Then Voldemort apparated into the room, his inhuman features
a mask of rage.  

A killing curse blasted from Voldemort's wand and struck Regulus an instant
after he apparated.  Confronting Voldemort wasn't the mission, so before
Regulus hit the ground, Sloth and I both grabbed him and the sword and touched
our return portkeys back to Hogwarts.  Regulus was laughing when he regenerated
back to life.  

                                     * * *


Centaurs and acromantula were herded into the dungeon while the three of us
were having our identities verified and our minds checked for tampering. 
Neither species was happy about being shackled in the Hogwarts dungeon for any
length of time, but they tolerated it because the alternative was being left to
the mercy of the Death Eaters gathering outside the gates.  At first, I thought
this was simply a retaliatory action for our strike on Nagini, but when Harry
came in to check us over with legilimency, I learned there was more to it than
that.  

Harry locked eyes with me, and once he was satisfied I was still myself, still
in control of my own actions, and still on side, he used legilimency in a way I
hadn't encountered before, to project thoughts and memories rather than read
them.  I saw what Harry had seen through his connection to Voldemort when he
realized what we had done, and what that implied we knew about his immortality.
 

Voldemort's thoughts had shot through a panicked list of his horcrux locations,
noting the need to check them personally to verify their safety.  A retribution
strike on Hogwarts by the Death Eaters for killing his pet was a pretense so he
wouldn't have to tell his followers his real reason.  A horcrux had been hidden
in Hogwarts.  Now that he knew we were looking for them, he was less certain of
its safety there.  

Snape had been delegated the task of taking the school using the Ministry's
resources while Voldemort himself had gone alone to check on his other
horcruxes.  In his pocket, Voldemort carried a picture that had caught his eye
in the dilapidated house after we left.  It was a wizard photo of a young
Gridewald.  He now knew the old dark lord was his next stop in his quest for
the Elder Wand.  A quest he intended to resume after checking on his horcruxes.
 

"It's a good thing we had Hagrid get a plan ready," said Harry.  "There wasn't
much warning when we had to evacuate the forbidden forest.  The people in
Hogsmeade were a lot quicker and easier to get to the safety of the castle."  

"If we can find and destroy the last horcrux quickly, we might have a chance at
ending this in the ambush at Grindewald's cell," I said, hopefully.  "Then we
can mop up any remaining loyalists and everyone can get back to their lives."  

"You've still got your bugs all over the castle, right?" confirmed Harry.  

I nodded.  "I'll set them looking as soon as I'm out of here."  

"Go," said Harry.  "Both of you.  I finished your checks."  

So, I did just that, gathering all my metal surveillance bugs in the Ravencaw
common room, and dispatched them to scour every inch of the school for the
diadem depicted on Rowena Ravenclaw's statue.  Sloth distributed pictures of
the diadem to every living thing currently taking shelter in the castle.  No
one had seen it.  

Meanwhile, the Death Eaters had gathered outside the castle, supported by
giants, inferi, dementors, and no doubt numerous ordinary wizards bound by the
Imperius curse.  Members of the DA rose to the challenge, going to the highest
levels of the castle and conjuring a veritable wall of silvery patronuses,
successfully keeping the army of dementors at a distance.  The giants tried
hurling trees and boulders at the castle, but the arrays I'd applied ensured
that nay damage they did was instantly repaired.  The enemy wizards couldn't
get close enough to accurately send curses through the shrunken windows,
because any time they approached they were pelted by screaming mandrake
seedlings.  Hogwarts was a fortress, and now it was proving it.  

The inferi could and did approach, only to be driven back by conjured flames of
teachers, Order members, Aurors, and any other witch or wizard willing and able
to lend a wand in the fight.  Things got even worse for the Death Eaters once
the centaurs had been cleared.  Unwilling to deal with the shape of being
defended by humans, they took their bows and showed us what battlements and
archery slots were really for.  Unable to approach and harassed by centaur
arrows, the Death Eaters were forced to fall back to the forbidden forest to
regroup.  

Harry was occupied with monitoring Voldemort as he checked on his other
horcruxes.  His rage and fear built as he saw every hiding place ransacked. 
The ring missing, the locket replaced by Regulus' fake with the mocking note. 
By the time he reached Gringotts, all sense of subtlety and proportionate
response had fled the dark lord's mind.  

Every secret passage, hidden room, and dead end hallway had been searched by
the castle's residents.  People looked behind every painting, under every piece
of furnature, and inside every suit of armor.  I used my time turner to get a
dozen of me looking at once.  Moody's eye let me look inside walls and statues,
penetrate invisibility enchantments, and avoid having my vision impaired by the
crowds of people turning the castle upside down.  I found a number of hiding
places and walled up rooms I didn't know existed before, but none of them
contained Ravenclaw's Lost Diadem.  

Out of places to look, I regrouped with the others in the Chamber of Secrets,
which we'd searched so many times and in so many ways, it was less likely to be
there than almost anywhere else in the school.  I helplessly reported our
failure to turn up the diadem.  Harry had larger concerns.  

"Tom's coming," he said.  "He knows all his other horcruxes are gone."  

"He checked all his other hiding places already?" asked Hermione nervously.  

"How'd he get at the one in Gringotts?" asked Ron.  "We saw the security on
that vault."  

"The Imperius and killing curses," replied Harry.  "He killed all the goblins
htat tried to stop him and used the Imperius on one to make him open the
vault."  

"That'd do it," said Sloth darkly.  

"It gets worse," said Harry.  "Remember the blind dragon they were using for
security?  He put the Imperius curse on it and is flying it to Hogwarts."  

"That's bad," said Ron.  "Castles are made to protect against enemies on the
ground.  Hogwarts can be as effectively defended as it is using wards that
limit flying enchantments."  

"How do you know that?" asked Neville, impressed.  

"It was in Hogwarts: A History," replied Ron, eliciting a smile from Hermione.
 

"If it's blind, the basilisk won't be any help," noted Luna.  

"Can we even the playing field with Norberta?" asked Ginny.  

"I like that idea," I said.  "Tom gave Hagrid her egg in the first place.  That
coming back to bite him would be appropriate."  

"He's about an hour's dragon flight away," reported Harry.  "Can we find the
Diadem by then?"  

"Dumbledore's talking to the merpeople and Hagrid's seeing if the centaurs or
acromantula know anything," said Hermione.  "The ghosts are going through the
walls again, but it's not looking good."  

"What about the house elves?" asked Harry.  "They know this school inside and
out, so well we didn't even know they were here cleaning up after us for
years.  Dobby!"  

With a loud crack, Dobby the house elf materialized in front of us.  His
mismatched outfit had grown to include a scarf several sizes too big for him,
and a set of shield hat, cloak, and gloves in case the fighting penetrated the
castle walls.  

"Harry Potter!  How can Dobby be of service to you?" he bowed low to Harry.  

"Dobby, this is important," said Harry.  "I need you to think hard.  Ask the
other house elves if you have to.  Is there someplace in Hogwarts you could
hide something and even Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to find it?"  

"You need to see the Room of Hidden Things," said Dobby, ecstatic to be of
help.  "It is one of the forms taken by the Room of Requirement.  We house
elves have been using it as an extra kitchen to accommodate our guests, but
Dobby can get them out so it can become the Room of Hidden Things for Harry
Potter."  

As Dobby explained, the Room of Requirement was a room that only existed in the
castle some of the time.  When summoned by pacing past the place where its
entrance would appear three times with a firm intention in mind, the room would
open, furnished and appointed for your needs.   There were limitations.  Only
one room existed, so it could only take on one form at a time.  It also
couldn't be used to create food, because food was one of the five principal
exceptions to Gamps law of elemental transfiguration.  

Ginny split off from the group to let Charlie and Hagrid know about the dragon
and help them get Norberta ready to fight it.  Dobby led the rest of us through
the halls to the location of the Room of Requirement.  After kicking the rest
of the Hogwarts staff of hosue elves out of the room, Dobby closed his eyes in
concentration and paced the corridor until a door appeared.  Throwing open the
door, we gazed upon the Room of Hidden Things.  

Hogwarts was a thousand years old, and nothing demonstrated that more clearly
than the mounds of broken furniture, ugly dress robes, taxidermied creatures,
and various other random objects filling the cathedral sized room to the
ceiling in places.  Each object here had been hidden by someone in the school's
long history.  It was a treasure trove of archeological knowledge, and I
resented Voldemort more than ever for what we now had to do to it.  

"I'll get as many muggles as I can to help us sort through all this," I said. 
"Hermione, I need undetectable extension charms on a bunch of bins.  We'll need
to have someplace to toss all the objects that aren't the horcrux.  Dobby, get
the other house elves back in here and helping us look.  Everyone else, get
started.  We don't have much time before Tom gets here."  

The sheer number of people under the castle's protection allowed us to chew
through the thousand years worth of sediment faster than I would have believed
possible.  Luna had enlarged a picture of the diadem and stuck it to the wall
to remind everyone what they were looking for.  In less than half an hour, the
diadem had been found by the Grangers.  

As Sloth sprinted off to the Chamber of Secrets to destroy the Diadem, Harry
swallowed hard and walked out of the Room of Requirement, looking pale.  There
was one horcrux left before Voldemort could be put down for good, and now that
the time had come, Harry was hesitant.  He had every right to be afraid.  It
was only Dumbledore's guess that he'd be able to come back, lucky as his
guesses may be.  

"Do you still want to do this?" I asked after following him to an empty
corridor.  

"I don't have a choice, do I?" said Harry, trying to screw up his courage.  

"Of course you've got a choice," I said.  "You say the word and we'll have the
basilisk petrify Tom instead, then toss him in a cell in Azkaban, or off a ship
in the middle of the ocean."  

"His followers'll find him and revive him," said Harry.  "It's got to be this
way.  I... I have to die.  If I don't... if I don't come back-"

"You will," I said firmly.  "Even if Dumbledore's wrong about the two way
connection, there are so many people who love you, Harry.  They'll be competing
for who gets to use the Resurrection Stone first."  

Harry smiled faintly.  "That's right.  Thank you, Greed.  Now I just need to
decide who to do the job."  

"You have to mean the Unforgivable curses," I said.  "No one in this school can
cast the killing curse at you.  I think you should use Tom."  

"What?" asked Harry.  

"I'm thinking tactically," I said.  "He hits you square with a killing curse. 
You drop and he thinks it's over.  That leaves you an opening to sneak attack
him."  

"You have to mean the Unforgivables," repeated Harry.  "I'll only get one
shot.  I don't know if I can cast the killing curse, even at Tom."  

"So use a curse you don't have to mean," I suggested.  "Tom's defenses will be
down, since he'll think you're dead."  

"I guess the worst that happens if I fail is he kills me again and I have to
wait for you guys to use the Resurrection Stone," said Harry.  

"I'm sorry you're in this position," I said.  

"I know.  Thanks.  Now, let's get back to ending this."  

                                     * * *


Voldemort didn't launch the attack directly on arriving like we expected. 
Instead, he landed the blind dragon in the camp the Death Eaters had fallen
back to.  The hour's flight had let Voldemort clear his head and calm his
nerves.  Now that he was thinking clearly again, his occlumency barriers were
back up and Harry couldn't tell us what was happening inside the camp.  

Then, the magically amplified voice of Severus Snape rang out loud and clear. 
"By order of the Ministry of Magic, surrender the school or it will be burned
to the ground with all inside it.  This rebellion is over.  I give you ten
seconds to comply."  

"Tom's not leading the fight?" asked Ron.  

"Snape's leading the fight and he wants us to know it," said Harry.  "Everyone,
defensive positions!  Stunning hexes only, I want them taken alive!  Hold
Norberta back unless I give the order!"  

Snape flew alongside the pale, blind dragon, unsupported by a broomstick, just
like Voldemort had done when we rescued the Dursleys.  Apparently, Voldemort
had taught his most competent and trusted general this unique bit of magic.  A
dozen Death Eaters were crowded on the back of the dragon.  

A jet of fire roared from the dragon's mouth, but the castle's defenders were
ready with flame freezing and water summoning charms.  Once Snape and the
dragon were directly above  the tower, Death Eaters leapt from the dragon's
back, down to the tower.  Stunners from our forces overwhelmed the attackers
with ease, and even Snape was shot out of the sky by a stunner.  A cushioning
charm by Harry saved Snape from a messy landing on the unyielding stone of the
castle.  

That left only the dragon itself, and that was where I cam in.  I pointed my
wand at the creature, and it was suddenly held immobile by a glowing blue aura
of solidified air.  With a stationary target, a half dozen coordinated stunners
hit the dragon and I lowered it gently to the tower where Charlie got to work
securing it.  Leaving the others to clean up, Harry took Snape to the dungeons
personally and directed Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Sloth, and myself
to follow.  

Once Snape was shackled, Harry cast a spell to wake him.  Blinking quickly,
Snape said, "You understood.  How long have I been unconscious?"  

"A few minutes," said Harry.  "What was that about?"  

"The Death Eaters from the dragon were ones who wanted to defect," said Snape. 
"The Dark Lord delegated capturing Hogwarts to me because he is seeking out an
artifact of power elsewhere."  

"He's going after Grindewald for the Elder Wand," said Harry.  "He isn't sure
he can beat my wand in a straight fight after what happened at Privet Drive."  

"We've got a portkey to Nurmengard ready," I said.  

"Okay, there's no rush," said Harry.  "We've planned for this.  We can take our
time and check the Death Eaters we captured.  Once we know where they stand for
sure, we can head for Nurmengard."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
Our heroes didn't offer the muggles shelter because they believed they would
need extra manpower to conduct a search.  They weren't kind to the house elves
because they suspected they had knowledge they would need.  They didn't make
plans to evacuate the centaurs because they wanted to manipulate them into
fighting for them.  They did all of these things because they were the right
thing to do.  Doing good deeds isn't just the right thing to do.  It also helps
make people more willing and able to help you down the line. 
***** The War Ends *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 64) The War Ends
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


After checking and rechecking our equipment and running over the plan one last
time, the eight of us who'd battled Voldemort to a standstill in the Department
of Mysteries used our stolen time turners to go back before Voldemort arrived
at the Death Eater camp and traveled to Nurmengard.  Once there, we relieved
the Order members guarding Grindewald.  Their presence would only complicate
matters.  We entered the old dark lord's cell and waited.  

"He's coming, isn't he?" asked Grindewald.  

"Don't worry," said Harry.  "We aren't going to let him harm you."  

"The war's almost over," said Neville.  

"Only if we win," I said.  

"We'll win," said Hermione.  

Ron nodded.  "I wouldn't have believed it when all this started.  The most
powerful dark wizard who ever lived, coming here because he's scared of Harry."
 

"Scared of all of us," said Harry.  

Grindewald laughed.  

"We don't have to protect you," noted Sloth.  "If you think this is funny..."  

"It's not that," wheezed Grindewald.  "It's what you called Voldemort.  With
everything else I failed to accomplish, I couldn't even hold on to that dubious
honor."  

"Your plan to run the muggles openly was doomed from the start," I told the old
wizard.  "Magic gives you advantages, but muggles are still human beings, every
bit as adaptive and cunning as any wizard.  The Statute of Secrecy was never
for the protection of the muggles.  Once the muggles knew about magic, once
they could see it performed every day, sure, they'd be cowed and afraid at
first, but once the novelty wore off, they'd study it, learn about it.  They'd
see the strengths and weaknesses, and they would devise countermeasures.  How
could you hope to remain in power when even if you got every witch and wizard
behind you, you were outnumbered more than ten thousand to one and surrounded?"
 

"It still needs tightening up before it's ready to put down on your History of
Magic NEWT, but it's coming along," said Hermione.  

"At least I can be sure Albus wasn't reviewing for his exams before confronting
me," said Grindewald.  

"No," said Luna.  "He was teaching at the time.  He was probably grading them."
 

"It's time," said Sloth, snapping her pocket watch closed.  "Cloaks on."  

The eight of us disappeared beneath our invisibility cloaks, leaving the room
apparently empty except for Grindewald.  Moody's eye allowed me to see
Voldemort apparating just outside the prison's wards.  He strolled purposefully
up to the fortress, then rose up into the air.  I reminded myself I'd need to
ask Snape how that unsupported flight spell worked when this was all over,
since it was one of Voldemort's only unique discoveries outside the area of
mutilating his own soul.  

His black robes billowing, Voldemort looked in through the archery slit of a
window.  Displaying one of the many modifications he'd made to his body,
Voldemort dislocated a number of joints, including some in places humans don't
have joints, and contorted his body to squeeze through the window.  Vulnerable
as he looked in that position, I resisted the temptation to attack.  Between
Voldemort and Harry, the first one to die wins.  

Only when Voldemort was fully inside the room and had taken a step toward
Grindewald did Harry throw back his cloak and reveal himself.  "Hello, Tom," he
said calmly with his wand raised.  

"Harry Potter," replied Voldemort.  "I did not expect to see you here.  Did
Dumbledore leave you orders to look after his old friend?"  

"He's here because he knew you were coming," said Grindewald with some degree
of mirth in his voice.  "He used me as bait to get you on your own."  

"It was always going to end like this," said Harry.  "Neither can live while
the other survives."  

"You didn't come to face me alone," said Voldemort.  "Where are your friends? 
Your parents?  Where is the one who will die in your place today?"  

Red, slitted eyes flicked toward the emaciated form of Grindewald where he sat
on his bed.  Grindewald shrugged.  "I just met the boy."  

"You're afraid," taunted Harry.  "You know I've destroyed your diary, your
ring, your locket, your cup, and your snake.  You've got no horcruxes left."  

A smile drew on the Dark Lord's face and he said, "Your grand quest to unmake
me has failed.  A horcrux remains you never knew about."  

Harry shrugged.  "I can look for it after I banish you to the form of a
shrieking shade again.  There are no Philosopher's Stones left for you to
find.  Your father's bones are gone.  There'll be no coming back for you even
if I can't find the last horcrux."  

"Escaping me as often as you have has left you arrogant, boy.  Tonight you will
die and I will display your broken corpse like a standard when my army marches
into Hogwarts."

"Are you planning to kill the boy or talk him to death?" asked Grindewald.  

"He's afraid," said Harry.  "My wand beat his last time we fought.  He came
here looking for the Elder Wand to replace his.  He doesn't realize the wand
isn't what's important."  Harry holstered his wand and stared down Voldemort.  

Cocking his head curiously, Voldemort flicked his wand toward Harry.  "Adava
Kedavra!"  The green bolt struck Harry square in the chest and both Harry and
Voldemort collapsed.  

"Expelliarmus!" shrieked Ginny, blasting Voldemort's wand from his grasp as she
threw off her cloak.  Ron caught the wand and stuck it in his wand holster.  I
pointed my wand at the window and glowing blue stone slid seamlessly into
place, sealing the window.  Sloth used a similar transmutation to seal the
door.  Neville put a full body bind on Voldemort.  Hermione bound him in
summoned ropes.  Luna attempted and failed a killing curse.  

Without moving a muscle, Voldemort wordlessly countered Neville's binding,
vanished Hermione's ropes, and rose into the air.  A variety of lethal and
disabling curses were deflected by Voldemort.  Sloth ignited a glowing blue
alchemic sword blade and leapt at him, only to be blocked by his shield spell. 
I stomped my foot to attempt to impale him with spikes, but he wandlessly
transfigured them into knives which flew at us.  As we had our homunculus
bodies by that point, we just pulled the knives out of our hearts and kept
fighting.  

"Sectumsempra!"  The attack came from the one direction Voldemort wasn't
defending against.  Our distraction had worked.  Harry's curse had severed
Voldemort's head from his shoulders.  As it had with Quirrell, Voldemort's
shade rose from his body and flew through the nearest wall.  

"I could have sworn you were playing him about not having found his last
horcrux," said Grindewald.  

"I was," said Harry.  "He doesn't know it, but he's on borrowed time."  

"We should get back to Hogwarts," said Ron.  "He'll be heading for the Death
Eater camp outside."  

                                     * * *


When our portkey arrived back at Hogwarts, a platoon of goblins dressed in
silver armor were waiting just outside the castle gates.  Apparently,
Voldemort's actions at Gringotts had pushed their neutrality to the breaking
point, and they'd come with an offer of alliance against the common threat. 
Harry agreed immediately, told them the final battle was just about to start,
and we set to work organizing our forces for what we suspected was coming.  

The underclassmen were evacuated to the panic room Salazar Slytherin had left
us called the Chamber of Secrets.  Everyone willing and able to fight was armed
and put in position.  Scrimgeour knew he wasn't in charge anymore when Harry
represented the wizards in an impromptu war council with the centaur, goblin,
and acromantula leaders.  Everything was ready by the time Voldemort's shade
arrived and sent his followers in to make a final attack to try to take the
school.  He still thought his last horcrux was inside.  

Fawks the phoenix sang out, bolstering our side and demoralizing the charging
Death Eaters and their allies.  Silencing charms from the Death Eaters stopped
both the phoenix song and the mandrake based attacks from harming their side. 
Using coordinated charms, a number of our wizards lifted a stream of water from
the lake and caused it to rain down on the Death Eaters.  As the water flowed,
one of the goblins worked a spell to transform the water into the Thieves
Downfall, and wash away the Imperius curse on the unfortunates the Death Eaters
had forcibly conscripted.  The newly freed individuals immediately broke ranks
and fled the battle.  

Now facing only giants, dementors, inferi, and witches and wizards who served
Voldemort willingly, our forces could stop holding back.  The front gates of
Hogwarts flew open and the Serpent of Slytherin emerged, still wearing its
goggles and pink earmuffs.  Any Death Eater stupid enough to try to launch a
killing curse in its direction was petrified by its gaze before the first word
of the spell left their lips.  

Acromantula swarmed down the castle walls, covered by centaur archers.  The
goblins marched in formation with the animated suits of armor who followed the
basilisk out the front gates.  Hagrid and Charlie each directed a dragon toward
the attacking giants.  

I popped Moody's magic eye out of my socket and tossed it to Sloth.  She popped
it into her socket, then did a swan dive off the highest tower in the castle,
disappearing beneath the ground without a ripple.  Protected by earth which the
eye allowed her to see through, Sloth began attacking from below, and Inferi
began vanishing beneath the ground.  

Loki transformed and I leapt into the fray alongside him.  I snapped my fingers
and burned a group of inferi to ashes while Loki tore into a group of
werewolves who stuck with Voldemort to lash out at the world rather than accept
Lupin's promise of a cure and a normal life.  A giant's fist crashed down on my
head.  Using an array on my shoulder blade, I mimicked Sloth's powers, and
remained unmoved while the giant drew back a bloody stump.  

Patronuses danced among the combatants, keeping the dementors at a distance. 
Even as the clean lines of battle were broken, the luminous silver spirits of
hope served as markers to let us know here our friends and allies were.  

The outcome of the battle was never in question.  Though Voldemort had gathered
every dark creature and wizard that would follow him, the alliance standing
against him was superior in numbers, skill, and resolve.  The only real
question was how many the light side would lose before the Death Eaters
realized it themselves.  I was determined to keep that number as low as
possible.  I concentrated my efforts on the nonhumans, since humans were
revivable.  

The goblins in indestructible armor carving their way through inferi didn't
need my help.  The acromantula swarming a pair of giants, on the other hand,
did.  I donned the Ultimate Shield as I sprinted at the enormous humanoids.  I
was almost unnoticed as I reached on giant's foot, clapped, and touched it. 
The coarse material of the creature's clothing unwove itself and rewove into a
set of carbon hardened ropes that bound it hand and foot.  The spiders swarming
up its body leapt to safety as it toppled.  

The second giant was hit with a dozen red stunning bolts fired by the muggles
from the castle windows.  Giant skin may be highly resistant to magic, but
alchemy worked on different principals, and that's what powered the weapons the
muggles were using.  I joined the acromantula in charging a group of enemy
wizards as the second giant fell.  

Green bolts of light flew at my party, so I stomped and raised a short wall to
block the killing curses.  It didn't meaningfully slow us down as Loki, myself,
and the acromantula could all easily clear the wall in a single bound.  A
killing curse hit me on my way over, and by the time I'd regenerated back to
life, Loki was standing in a pile of dismembered Death Eater corpses and the
acromantula were moving on.  

New battle lines had formed as the Death Eater side was reduced to a handful of
pockets of resistance surrounded by alliance fighters.  From one of those
pockets of resistance came a pair of killing curses that shot both dragons out
of the sky.  I made a b-line for that group, leaping over the corpses of dead
goblins and wizards as I went.  I arrived in time to see a goblin stab a Death
Eater in the chest with a sword, only for a dark mist to rise off the corpse
and posess the nearest Death Eater, who hurled an Adava Kedavra at the goblin.
 

"Harry already killed you, Tom!" I yelled, drawing the attention of the hateful
shade possessing whatever body he could get.  "The diadem you hid in the Room
of Requirement is destroyed too.  You're out of horcruxes.  You just don't know
it yet."  

I brought up a wall with the array on my shoe to block his killing curse.  When
I lowered the wall, my pocket watch was out and opened.  I kept my eyes on the
watch as I stomped and impaled every Death Eater in the cluster with stone
spikes.  Voldemort's shade angrily rushed at me.  Just before it reached me, I
snapped my watch shut, looked him in the eye, and said, "Disappear."  

At the same instant, the Harry in the dungeon below Hogwarts who was still a
horcrux used his time turner to beat Voldemort to Nurmengard.  Deprived of his
final connection to the mortal world, the restless shade of Lord Voldemort
evaporated into nothing.  

                                     * * *


While we mopped up the last of the enemy forces, I made sure to bind the
thousands of dementors in chains so they couldn't flee.  Once Sloth emerged
from beneath the ground, I used those chains to pull the dementors beneath the
earth and leave them to starve.  The wizarding world wasn't going back to using
them as prison guards.  

Speaking of prison, while the hardest of his hard core died with him, many of
Voldemort's followers fled or surrendered.  Scrimgeour, now properly reinstated
as Minister of Magic, began the process of putting them on trial.  At Harry's
insistence, they were fair trials.  The lesson of Sirius Black was thoroughly
learned by the wizarding legal system.  

With the war over, the refugees could finally go home, and the school got back
to normal.  McGonagall even scheduled a compressed Quidditch season in the time
we had left in the year.  Snape and Dumbledore didn't return to their old
positions.  Dumbledore enthusiastically joined Ron's alchemy class as a
student, and Snape retired to write textbooks.  

"It's strange to see my name on that," said Sloth, indicating the Order of
Merlin, First Class in the school's trophy case.  

"It shouldn't be strange," I said.  "You're a hero."  

"Fighting Voldemort wasn't a choice," said Sloth.  "Anyone would have.  Doing
what anyone sane would do doesn't make you a hero."  

"It didn't look like a choice because you have a good heart," I said.  "A lot
of people just hid or ran away.  We could've abandoned this world at any time. 
Voldemort and his people never could have found us."  

We stood side by side for a long moment, Sloth's eyes still on the award. 
Finally, I said, "When Fawks sang at the start of the battle, how did it make
you feel?"  

"Safe," she said absentmindedly.  "Protected.  Like everything was going to
work out.  But that's just what phoenix song does."  

"Not if you're evil," I said.  

"I know I'm not evil," said Sloth, surprised.  "That's why not being able to
fix what she did bothers me.  I've already saved a lot more people than she
killed, but it isn't like a life saved cancels out a life taken, you know."  

"Yeah, I get it," I said.  "I just hope you remember it works the other way
around too.  The lives she took don't cancel out the lives you've saved
either."  

Sloth took my hand and squeezed it, then said, "Come on.  If we hang out here
much longer, we'll need to use time turners to get to Divination on time."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
With Voldemort dead, there are a few personal things left to resolve before our
heroes return to their own world. 
***** The Meaning of Victory *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 65) The Meaning of Victory
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


By December, the school was basically back to normal.  Though it hadn't turned
out to be particularly important in the war, the eight of us continued with our
fencing lessons out of pure interest.  Hermione had us taking practice NEWTs to
check our weak spots, overruling any objections about how time consuming they
were by reminding us we were all immortal and had time turners.  Based on the
results of the practice tests, I was where I needed to be, except for those
spells, mostly in Charms, that couldn't be duplicated with alchemy.  

The day before the Christmas holiday was set to start, an owl unexpectedly
dropped a letter in front of me at the breakfast table.  It was from the
Ministry of Magic.  

"What's that about?" asked Luna when I finished reading.  

"I'm being summoned to Azkaban," I said.  "Apparently, Lucius Malfoy is dying."
 

"I don't know a lot about alchemy," said Luna, "but I thought those blood seals
were an all or nothing thing."  

"They are," I said.  "The guards think he's faking, but they're calling me in
just to make sure."  

"You'll want to go right away," said an instance of me from the future who'd
just walked in with a future Sloth.  "Trust me, this is going to be
interesting."  

With that recommendation, I met the present Sloth already stepping out the door
from the Great Hall and the two of us used the Gate to travel to the bleak
island prison of Azkaban.  The great stone fortress, though emptied of
dementors, still exuded an indefinable chill.  I took the opportunity to take
the Mad Eye out of my bag, pop it into my socket, and verify the condition of
the prisoners.  

Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted Sloth and I shaking our hands.  "Hello.  Thank you
for coming."  

"Congratulations on your promotion," said Sloth.  "Head of the Department of
Magical Law Enforcement."  

"Mostly it means a lot more paperwork and a lot less excitement," demurred
Shacklebolt.  

"So, can you give me any more details?" I asked.  

We walked and talked as Kingsley led Sloth and I into the prison, through the
halls and up several flights of stairs.  

"The guards say he's been complaining of hunger ever since we took custody of
him.  We tried feeding him, but he's an empty suit of armor, so it didn't
really accomplish anything.  It's only in the last week that he's started
losing consciousness."  

"How can you tell?" asked Sloth.  

"The glowing red eye lights go out and he stops responding.  He's been
progressively less active, but we've got no real way to tell if he's feigning."
 

"If he's feigning, he's smarter than I ever gave him credit for," I said.  "One
of the things I learned only very recently is that homunculi made from wizards
get hungry while ones made from muggles don't.  The possibility that whatever
part of him needs food to fuel his magic is starving to death without a body
that can eat is very real.  It's taken longer than I would have expected, but
since he'd have only the caloric needs added on by his magic, and not the
baseline ones from maintaining his human body, who knows?"  

Shacklebolt led us into a cell where a black suit of armor laid on a shelf-like
bunk covered up to its waist in a blanket.  Draco was standing in a corner,
looking down at his father while Narcissa sat at his bedside, clasping his
gauntlet in her hands.  

"You're here to help my father, aren't you?" asked Draco as we entered the
cell.  "You did this to him!  You can fix it!"  

"Is he awake?" I asked.  

"I am," came the weak voice of Lucius Malfoy from the helmet.  

"You are going to die," I told Lucius.  "You ensured that fact when you tried
to kill Ginny Weasley with the diary.  I could make you immortal, but I won't."
 

"So, did you just com here to gloat?" demanded Draco.  

"No," I said.  "I came here to give him a choice.  There are three ways you can
die, Lucius.  The first is I walk right back out that door and you starve,
however long that takes.  I admit, I'm curious how long that will be.  

"Your second option, I could break your blood seal, end your suffering in an
instant, and at least you'll know you'll be lucid in the end."  

"And the third?" asked Lucius.  

"The cruelest, most drawn out option of them all," I said.  "Old age."  

"You can make him human again?" asked Draco hopefully.  

"I could," I admitted.  "I won't.  There's a price to that one you can't
afford."  

"So what are you talking about?" asked Sloth.  

"A homunculus that can age like a human is doable," I said.  "Dante made one,
and Izumi got it on her first try.  It's trickier, but I've made more homunculi
than both of them combined."  

"What's the catch?" asked Lucius, his eye lights narrowing.  

"Well, it's painful," I said, "putting you in a new body.  It also means that,
unless Voldemort shared some important secrets with you or you successfully
appeal to Ron Weasley, the man who's baby sister you tried to kill, you'll only
be able to die of old age."  

"And that's bad?" asked Lucius, confused.  

"It might be," I said with a shrug.  "No way of knowing how decrepit you'll get
before the end.  Of course, I suppose you'll have the option of going back to
starvation in the end."  

"More time with my family and the ability to feel my wife's hand on mine
again," said Lucius.  "That isn't a choice.  Do it."  

Once in his new body, Lucius ate like a starving man, hugged his wife and son,
and greeted the rest of his life sentence in Azkaban with a level of enthusiasm
only someone who'd spent months in that sensory deprived armor form could truly
appreciate.  I wasn't sure I could have lasted as long as he did without going
insane.  

"The question is," I said to Sloth as we used our time turners to get back to
breakfast, "if you can starve without a body, why doesn't it happen to ghosts?"
 

"Well, we know ghosts aren't as simple as just being souls without bodies,"
said Sloth.  "They have substance that can interact with liquids and gasses. 
Muggles don't leave ghosts.  There's an element of choice involved.  I think
those transparent bodies we see are actually bodies.  Cosmetically similar to
their originals, but able to feed off some sort of energy as common as air that
bodies made of matter can't metabolize."  

"The substance they make their bodies out of and feed off must be rarer or
nonexistent in other worlds, just like some worlds don't have any ambient
energy to fuel alchemy," I mused.  "Assuming there isn't some conspiracy like
the Ministry of Magic back home covering things up, that would explain the lack
of verifiable ghost sightings in Amestris."  

                                     * * *


Sloth and I spent the Christmas holiday at the Burrow along with Harry.  The
Grangers, Lovegoods, and Longbottoms dropped by at various points to offer well
wishes and exchange baked goods.  People being able to just stop by was a
peculiar thing in itself with how long the Weasleys' home had been blanketed
with every security precaution short of the fidelius charm.  Even more notably,
Mrs. Weasley didn't feel the need to glance at the clock showing the locations
and statuses of her family members every few minutes.  

As our present to the Potters, Sloth and I snuck out using time turners to
establish an alibi and traveled to Godric's Hollow.  There, we used alchemy to
repair and rebuild the ruined house where Harry had gotten his scar years ago. 
On the table, where they were sure to find it, we left a muggle newspaper. 
Outlined in black marker was an article about Vernon and Petunia Dursley being
arrested for child abuse.  With Voldemort gone, there was no longer any reason
to let them get away with what they'd done to Harry for eleven years.  

Duddley sent a card by owl post.  He'd borrowed the owl from Pansy Parkenson,
who he'd started dating during the siege.  There wasn't much to the card, but
it was a gesture, and Harry'd have to decide where to take things from here.  

Between all our friends in this world, Sloth and I received a full library's
worth of books, seeds for every magical plant known to wizardkind, a large
stock of wands, and enough supplies and ingredients to run a magic school like
Hogwarts for a full year.  It was a Christmas present from this world to ours. 
Undetectable extension charms would make it possible for Sloth and I to carry
this bounty back through the Gate.  

The supplies for our new magic school brought on discussion of what everyone
was going to do after graduation.  Harry'd been inundated with offers from
every Ministry of Magic department there was, and he was holding off on making
a decision.  He'd been considering a career as an Auror, mostly for the benefit
of the backup and extra combat training while Voldemort was still after him.  
Now that Voldemort was gone, he was giving serious thought to teaching.  He'd
both enjoyed and been good at it during his time with the DA.  

Sloth and I continued to work out wedding plans for after graduation.  Molly
Weasley tried to help, but her children ensured she didn't end up dominating
the planning.  The guest list, while kept exclusive to the people we'd met and
come to care about in this world, was still enough that we ended up accepting
Molly's invitation to hold the ceremony at the Burrow.  

                                     * * *


With the Christmas holiday of our final year over, studying for the NETWs was
kicked into high gear.  With my utterly unreasonable course load, I was in
class, doing homework, or studying forty eight hours a day.  In my free time,
in addition to the usual extra curicular activities, I joined the others in re-
teaching parseltongue to Harry, who'd lost his instinctive knowledge of the
language along with that fragment of Voldemort's soul.  

I didn't make any new breakthroughs emulating advanced charms, but I did manage
a passable approximation of fiendfyre in Defense.  The red stones I was burning
through on conjuration in transfiguration class were still not running out.  

Out of concern I might not be allowed to use red stones on the NEWT practical,
I applied the Thule array to my arm that allowed access to the red stone energy
inside my body. Then I went ahead and ate, along with Sloth, the large stock of
excess red stones we'd accumulated.  

I was still giving regular checkups to Tonks as her baby developed.  He looked
healthy as he went into the final weeks of the pregnancy.  The original Nina
had helped preside over a birth, so Sloth offered what she knew about what to
expect.  As no one was quite sure what would happen when the umbilical cord was
cut, Lupin and Tonks wanted us at St. Mungo's when the day came.  

Precautions were wise, but as it turned out, unnecessary.  Ted Tonks came into
the world safe, healthy, and as far as I could tell, completely human.  It was
a remarkable thing.  The amount of energy a single human life could produce
when turned into a red stone was sufficient to fill a train car with gold
created ex nihilo.  Actually creating a human life using a Philosopher's Stone
exhausted the power of a good sized Stone.  And yet, here were were, witnessing
a life come into existence all on its own.  It was a humbling reminder of how
big, and mysterious, and beautiful the world could be.  

Both parents were overjoyed and proud.  They hugged, and kissed, and cuddled
their son.  Pictures were taken, wine bottles were opened, and congratulations
were offered all around.  

"You know, when Nina fist saw a baby being born, she panicked," said Sloth as
we made our way back to school.  "She thought the mother was going to die.  Ed
and Al were there, and they weren't helping at all.  They didn't know what they
were doing any more than Nina did."  

She smiled at the memory.  

"I assume she didn't die," I said.  

"Not only did she not die, but she was giving orders the whole way.  I think
she was the only one there who knew what to do."  

"It's really something," I said.  "Magic and alchemy needing such huge
productions if they can manage it at all, but you just let nature take its
course and a brand new life just appears."  

"It's comforting to know I could have a child," said Sloth.  "I'm not ready to
raise one, but knowing that being a homunculus doesn't prevent it is nice, you
know?"  

"Agreed," I said.  

                                     * * *


I wasn't the only one buried in schoolwork.  I was just the only one using a
time turner to dig my way through it all.  I studied with the others on those
subjects we were taking together, since, other than fencing and parseltongue
lessons, those were the only times we saw each other.  

Plenty of students who'd faced down the Death Eaters were starting to crack
from the pressure of the upcoming NEWTs.  As I had during the OWL year, I
brewed some potions to calm nerves, induce restful sleep, and sharpen wits and
memory.  With all that I'd learned since then, my potions were even more
effective.  

"You won't pass your Charms NEWT, Marcus.  You know that," said Professor
Flitwick after class one day.  "Your theory is flawless, your wand work and
pronunciation are spot on, but too many of your spells just don't work."  

"I know," I said.  "It's a small miracle I've gotten as far as I have without
having real magic."  

"Why would you take a test you know you'll fail?" asked Flitwick.  

"My name is Greed, but that doesn't mean I don't also have pride.  Right up
until the end, I might come up with a solution.  And even if I don't, I want to
know how close I could get.  Charms has been my biggest challenge since coming
to Hogwarts.  It wouldn't feel right not seeing it through."  

                                     * * *


One day blended into the next as our classes shifted from covering new material
into a thorough review after the Easter holidays.  That sense was not helped by
the constant time turning, lack of sleep, and irregular meals.  If I didn't
have Hermione's homework planner, I wouldn't have realized the year was nearly
over.  

As with the OWLs, the Ministry of Magic sent a group of witches and wizards to
administer the NEWT.  The tests themselves were longer and more grueling than
the OWLs, covering still more advanced material.  Multiple long essays had to
be penned in each exam room, and the practical portion of each test too up a
full day apiece.  Each subject's NEWT was like the State Alchemy Exam, covering
so much material, I was sure I could recreate every spell and magical theory
I'd learned in Hogwarts using just the exam papers.  

As I finished each test, I actively let go of the built up pressure it
represented.  Because of the relatively fewer students taking the NEWT, the
results would be handed back to us by the end of term feast.  There wouldn't be
the weeks of waiting like there had been with the OWLs.  

Lacking any immediate worries by the time the last NEWT was finished, the
sudden relief from all pressure and responsibility was disorienting.  After
seven years of closing out the school year with a battle with dark wizards, we
found we weren't quite sure how to end a year after the ware was definitively
over.  

"It's strange, thinking we won't be coming back here next year," said Harry as
we relaxed by the lake.  

"There's nothing stopping us from coming to see Luna and Ginny graduate next
year," offered Ron.  

"It's just not the same," said Harry.  

"You know," I said, "I'm pretty sure Sirius only took the Defense job because
the plan was to hole up in the castle anyway.  I also figure it won't take much
convincing to get McGonagall to turn Alchemy into a proper elective."  

"And Professor Slughorn only came out of retirement because Hogwarts offered
protection from Voldemort," mused Hermione.  

"I'll be sure to come by and visit," promised Neville.  "I think I'm going to
take Kingsley up on his offer to be an Auror."  

"We'll come and visit too," promised Sloth.  "I don't know what the next world
we visit will be like, but we'll tell you all about it."  

"When are you leaving?" asked Harry.  

"Right after the wedding," I said.  

"We'll still have our time turners, so we'll be back for Ginny and Luna's
graduation," added Sloth.  

                                     * * *


My NEWT scores were all I could have hoped for.  Eleven O's and a single P in
Charms.  It was the highest possible failing grade.  Sloth passed all her
NEWTs.  

The end of the year feast was full of excitement and good cheer.  It was the
last house elf made feast I would enjoy for a long while.  The House Cup was
successfully claimed by Slytherin this year, partly by us insisting we not get
House points for killing Voldemort, and partly for all their efforts to make
the muggles feel welcome during the siege.  

After the feast, the rest of the students left for the train, but we graduating
NEWT students stayed behind.  Our heads of house gathered us at the Black Lake,
and summoned the enchanted boats we had rode into the school in our first
year.  At McGonagall's direction, we stepped back into the boats.  Loki hopped
nimbly in with Sloth and I.  Then, using our own powers, we guided the boats
across the lake.  

We decided to ride the Hogwarts Express back to London.  There was no hurry,
and this would be our last chance to ride the train.  The next step couldn't
begin until all the students were home anyway.  

                                     * * *


Sloth, Loki, and I stayed at the Burrow for one last night.  The decorations
they had prepared were every bit as gorgeous as they'd put up for Bill and
Fleur.  

"Thank you so much for all this," I said to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.  

"Don't be silly," said Mrs. Weasley.  "You're family."  

Touched beyond words, we hugged the two of them in a group hug.  

Fred and George made sure that our preferred dress code of no dress code was
enforced.  We wanted our guests to look like themselves at the wedding.  Sloth
and I would be the only ones dressing up.  

Our guest list included DA members, Order of the Phoenix members, Hogwarts
teachers, the whole of the immediate Weasley family, some nonhuman magical
creatures like Dobby, and my fellow Triwizard champions.  

I stood beneath an arch wearing my blue Amestrian military uniform and my black
haired, purple eyed homunculus form.  The gathered guests turned to look when
Sloth marched down the center isle.  She was also in her true form.  Small,
pale, and with her black hair in twin braids.  Sloth carried a bouquet of
bright yellow flowers.  Her dress was a simple white sleeveless gown, and she
wore a circlet of transmuted flowers.  

Sloth ascended a set of raised steps when she reached the arch so we would be
able to stand eye to eye without shape shifting.  There were no rings. 
Trinkets of gold, worthless to alchemists, felt like they would cheapen the
event.  We exchanged nothing more and nothing less than our heartfelt
expressions of love for one another, and our vows to honor and care for one
another in good times and bad, for the rest of our lives.  

When we kissed to seal our vows, it was to a round of enthusiastic applause. 
Harry once wondered if the Mirror of Erised showed the future.  It didn't.  But
that didn't mean you couldn't get very close indeed.  

After much dining and dancing, with many congratulations and well wishes, Sloth
and I took our bags, called Loki, and bid our guests goodbye.  I lifted Sloth
into a proper bridal carry.  She clapped her hands and a sophisticated, blue
transmutation circle appeared above our heads, swept down over us, and
deposited us safely before the Gate.  

                                     * * *


I was worried we'd gone off course when the Gate deposited Sloth, Loki, and I
in a round, stone room with a transmutation circle on the floor and doors
covering the walls.  Then I looked up and saw a sign reading, "Welcome to
Liore.  The current time is:"  Directly below the flashing letters painted in
on the stone wall was a clock showing hours, minutes and seconds, as well as
day, month, and year.  We were three years late for our meeting with Ed, Al,
and Winry.  

Sloth and I took our pocket watches, wrapped their chains around ourselves and
Loki, and twisted the dials to send ourselves back in time.  We appeared in a
flash in the central square in Liore, near the fountain.  People started and
stumbled back when we appeared.  No one stopped us as we made our way to Rose's
office.  

"Greed!  Sloth!  It's good to see you," said Rose.  Loki let out a whuff,
prompting her to add, "And of course, you too, Loki."  

"Hi, Rose," I said to the mayor of my home town.  "It's been a long time."  

"You only left a week ago," said Rose, confused.  

"It's been longer for us," said Sloth.  "We have a lot to talk about.  Is Noah
still here?"  

"She is," said Rose, sending someone to retrieve the woman I now suspected was
an untrained witch with a knack for legilimency.  

Once Noah arrived, and we exchanged greetings, Sloth and I launched into our
tale, showing off magical objects we'd brought with us to bolster our story and
to serve as visual aids.  Rose was quick on the uptake, asking if we'd brought
back books on magic so a school could be started in Liore before we'd even
gotten to Voldemort and his attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stones.  

At our insistence, Noah went through each of the wands we'd brought and waved
them until one let out a stream of red sparks.  She stared at the wand while
Sloth and I continued our story.  When we'd finished, ending with the room we'd
arrived in three years in the future with a sign charmed to flash different
colors, Rose was already writing down a list of things that needed to be done.
 

"What you've learned about automating red stone manufacture alone will change
everything around here," said Rose.  "Having the only magic school in the
country here on top of that will do so much for our security and economy."  

"I never thought there would be so much more to my powers," said Noah.  

"If you need anything from us, advice, temporary instruction work to fill in
anything not clear from our notes or textbooks, don't hesitate to ask," I
said.  "We'll leave the books and notes and wands and seeds with you."  

"You're leaving already?" asked Rose.  

"First thing tomorrow," I said.  "We have an appointment in Risenbool to keep."
 

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
From the start, the goal had been to go out, explore new worlds, and return to
tell the tale.  Now our heroes have another world's worth of friends to keep
informed of their future journeys, and to share the knowledge they discover
with. 
***** Romantic Interlude 26 *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 66) Romantic Interlude 26
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


***WARNING***
This chapter contains sexually explicit material involving young children.  You
can skip this chapter and still understand the story.  If you do not want to
read about this, go directly to chapter 67.
***WARNING***

                                     * * *


Our wedding night was spent in Liore.  Rose arranged for a room with a
balcony.  Carrying Sloth across the threshold of our room was a small gesture
compared with carrying her across the threshold of this universe, but if we
didn't value ritual for its own sake, we wouldn't have bothered with a wedding
in the first place.  

Sloth kissed me as I kicked the door closed.  "Do Not Disturb" signs were duly
hung.  I set Sloth down and we explored the room.  A pitcher of water was on a
table.  Sloth used a red stone and turned it into a bottle of chilled wine.  We
took the wine out onto the balcony and watched the sunset together.  

"It's all there," I said as the stars twinkled into visibility above us.  "The
same stars.  The same planets.  I never would have noticed the similarities
before."  

"It makes sense," said Sloth.  "Universes that have human beings in them are
bound to have a lot of things in common."  

When we'd finished our glasses of wine, I stood and offered Sloth my hand.  She
took it and I led my wife to the bedroom.  The two of us were practiced lovers,
who knew each other's bodies, likes, and dislikes in a way only long years
together could achieve.  We had a plethora of games and tricks using shape
shifting, time turners, ropes, and chains.  But tonight was about something
more than our mutual carnal pleasure (thought that would be a big part).  It
was about consummating the vows we took to one another.  

As such, both Sloth and I remained in our true forms as we employed our powers
to strop one another naked.  Sloth's pale, smooth skin felt wonderful in my
hands as I scooped her up in my arms for one last kiss before lying her down on
the bed.  Her narrow, flat chest rose and fell, driven by emotion rather than
any physical need to breathe.  I kissed Sloth's nipples and ran a hand down her
stomach.  

When I touched her labia, Sloth put her arms around the back of my head and
said, "That feels just as wonderful as it did the first time you touched me
like that."  

Turning my head up to face her, I said, "So you're saying I haven't improved at
all?"  Smirking, I applied pressure just the way she liked it.  It was a subtle
shift from feeling her up for my own gratification to masturbating her, but it
provoked the gasp of pleasure I knew it would.  

Sloth pinned my hand with her thighs and I continued to masturbate her as we
kissed again.  I didn't break our kiss until her first orgasm of the night had
come and gone.  When I did break that kiss, it was so we could take turns
licking my fingers clean.  

"Are you ready for me to put my penis in?" I asked when we'd finished cleaning
Sloth's sexual fluids off my fingers.  

"I've been ready since we got to the bedroom," said Sloth, "but I know how much
you like to taste me first."  

Sloth opened her legs wide.  I gave her one more appreciative kiss, then
climbed into position.  She grabbed my penis with both hands, rubbed the top
back and forth along the length of her slit once, then guided it into her
vagina.  

There were so many things I loved about her tiny, prepubescent body.  At that
moment, I was focused on the fact that her tight vagina, still in a virginal
state after all these years thanks to our nonhuman nature, only just barely
accommodated my girth.  

My wife and lover called out in delight as I thrust into her.  Sloth's arms and
legs wrapped around me, and she adjusted her hips to better accommodate my
penetrating her.  Unlike our first time together, I'd long since learned how
hard to press and when to pull back.  Rather than the timid exploration that
had been, this time, I pushed straight in with firm, confident strokes, bumping
against her cervix just hard enough to make her notice with each thrust.  

Sloth's breathing came in gasps and starts as I pushed her to the limit.  With
a human lover, I would have had to slow down enough to let her breathe.  We
weren't human, and we fully embraced the benefits that granted us.  

I came first, but not by much.  Semen surging into her body tipped Sloth over
the edge and her already tight vagina clenched down in spasms.  Neither of us
stopped when a normal human would have had to.  We used the red stones in our
bodies to top ourselves off whenever we started getting low.  We stopped only
when the back pressure from pumping so much semen into such a small child
became uncomfortable.  

I pulled my still ejaculating penis out of her vagina and ended up getting cum
on both her inner thighs, and her slightly bulging stomach.  Then I laid down
next to Sloth on the bed.  

"Well, that's good," said Sloth after we'd laid together for a few minutes,
enjoying the afterglow.  "I keep hearing the sex gets worse after you're
married.  Clearly those people were just doing it wrong."  

"Did you want to sleep tonight?" I asked.  

"Hm," she said.  "Yeah, okay, but if you wake up first, I want a dick in my
ass."  

"That shouldn't be too much trouble," I said.  "Most days that's the first
thing I think about doing when I wake up anyway."  

Sloth smiled, rolled onto her side, and rubbed her butt against me.  "I love
you, Greed."  

"I love you too," I said, draping my arm around her.  

As it happened, I was awake before she was that morning.  I was still spooning
around her while she dozed.  I groped her a bit, enjoying the warmth of her
small body pressing against me.  Then I took my erect penis and adjusted my
position so the tip was between Sloth's butt cheeks.  

The positioning was slow and careful, but once everything was lined up, I
thrust hard. I used the array on my shoulder to shift around the composition of
the first layer of my skin to disrupt Sloth's ability to pass through me in
those disorienting few seconds when she woke up, not quite sure what was
happening.  Once she was fully conscious, she shifted and ground against me.  

With her bucking in a way that had nothing to do with trying to get me off of
her, I came very quickly.  I clenched one hand on her crotch and the other on
her chest as I continued to rut against her, filling her ass with cum.  I let
myself run dry and separated form Sloth only after she stopped actively
vocalizing her pleasure and begging me not to stop.  

"That was great," said Sloth.  "Oh, you are a genius for figuring out how to
get wake up sex to work for us."  

"So, are you ready to clean up and face the day?" I asked.  

"We do need to catch that train," said Sloth.  "And there are so much better
uses to put a time turner to."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
It's less complicated and adventurous than some of the other things Sloth and
Greed have done together, but the relatively mundane experience is still one
they both enjoy and feel a sense of connection from. 
***** Keeping an Appointment *****
The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 67) Keeping an Appointment
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or
characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation.
This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)

                                     * * *


Sloth, Loki, and I strolled leisurely up the country road to Rockbell
Automail.  Edward and Alphonse were outside doing chores when we came into
view.  Sloth and Loki broke into a run as Ed and Al both raised a hand in
greeting.  I kept to a casual stroll, smiling at Sloth's enthusiasm.  

Alphonse was tackled to the ground by the hug Sloth gave him at the end of a
flying leap.  Wanting to be part of the moment, Loki tackled Edward and licked
his face before moving off to find Den, the Rockbell family dog with an
automail foreleg.  Everyone was standing back up when I made it up to the
house.  

"So, the Stone did let you control the time difference," said Edward.  "You're
right on time."  

"Actually, the Stone was destroyed," I said.  "We found another way to solve
the time difference."  

"We've seen so much," said Sloth.  "I can't wait to tell you all about it."  

"I'll get Winry and Aunt Pinako," said Alphonse.  "I'm sure they'll want to
hear everything too."  

Edward was visibly jealous when we described the wizarding world.  It was
filled with so many more possibilities and opportunities than the world he'd
been trapped in.  Winry was smug about yet another world where automail had
never developed.  As this was becoming a trend, I asked for a few introductory
books on the subject in case the knowledge would come in handy later.  

The idea of dark lords was as baffling to them as it had been to us.  How
Voldemort managed to gather so many willing converts to his cause looked a lot
like a failure of governance rather than any charismatic quality he may have
once had.  

The ghosts, the Resurrection Stone, and related concepts were hard for the
Elric brothers to swallow.  They'd transgressed the boundaries between life and
death.  Both brothers had died, and their experiences didn't match at all with
what the Potters and the beneficiaries of the Resurrection Stone's power
reported.  

"We spent a lot of time asking the same questions," said Sloth.  "The best
theory we have is that different worlds have different afterlives."  

"The existence of some sort of afterlife seems to be a certainty just based on
what we know about souls and the ability to interact with them after death," I
said.  "You're both proof of that.  I'm thinking the details of that afterlife
must vary from world to world."  

"The Resurrection Stone was designed to work with the afterlife of that world,"
said Sloth.  "It's why we didn't ask to borrow it when we came back here."  

"It figures an easy resurrection method like that wouldn't work here," said
Edward.  

"Still, it's strange that it works anywhere," said Alphonse.  

"You two have the most warped concept of 'easy'," said Winry.  

"Well, once we've got some local wizards trained up and investigating using
their powers, a lot of doors are bound to open," I said.  

"I guess we'd better start studying or we're going to be left behind, right
Al?" asked Edward.  

"Right," said Alphonse, nodding.  

"There is one more thing," said Sloth, pulling a stack of wizard photographs
out of her bag.  "We both wanted you there for it, but Gate travel being what
it is..."  

"What are these?" asked Al.  

"Our wedding photos," I said, putting an arm around Sloth.  

We'd covered the tale of our fight against Voldemort in a few hours.  It was
barely lunchtime when we'd finished.  Going through the wedding photos lasted
well into the night, with us fondly sharing memories of our friends from the
other world and getting a whole new round of congratulations and well wishes. 
Alphonse giving his blessing on our union was an especially significant thing
as far as Sloth and I were concerned, since he was the closest thing to a
father Sloth had.  He blushed when we told him so.  

"So, what are you two going to do now?" asked Edward.  "Stick around Liore and
teach?"  

"Russel and Fletcher can handle the cultivation of the seeds we brought," I
said.  "It'll take quite a while before Noah reaches the limit of what our
textbooks and notes can teach her.  Really, the only thing that needs doing is
finding out if any magical creatures are around in this world to use for
potions ingredients or wand cores."  

"We were actually hoping you'd be interested in that part," said Sloth, taking
a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them out of her bag and handing it
to the Elrics.  

"You're going to keep traveling?" asked Winry.  

"After the wonders of seeing real life wizards, the horrors of dementors, and
everything we've learned about our powers and the world, I don't think I could
stand not knowing what the next world holds," I said.  

"And who knows," said Sloth.  "Maybe the next world will be so advanced they
can do things even the wizards called impossible."  

                                     * * *


Author's comments:
It's been a lot of fun writing my way through a full seven years of Hogwarts
education with a pair of strangers from another world who's powers don't quite
match up with everyone else's.  The time they've spent at Hogwarts has not just
won them friends, but has given them tools and skills that will be of
immeasurable value in their journeys ahead to worlds more wonderful and
terrible than anything they've seen yet. 
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