I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise
When Harry woke up from a night spent in his Dorm-Room in the tower, he thanked the Gods he could meditate himself asleep even if he was laying in an explosives testing ground... If he was forced to sleep normally without Fleur, in this teeny, tiny bed, near these boys, making the noises that they make, without the assistance of a sleeping draught… well, it simply wouldn't happen. Nowadays Harry was spoiled rotten when it came to his sleeping arrangements, and there was very little he could do about it.
As it was, Harry couldn't say the night he spent in his Mindscape was anything resembling comfortable, but at the very least it was super productive. He flew around to keep in good Quidditch form, he shored up his mental defenses even more than they already were, and then he trained his Potter family magics just in case he ever had to fight someone kitted up as thoroughly as Bartimius junior.
Suffice it to say, Harry overestimated his own power before Bartimius's attack, and now he was suffering the consequences of his arrogance. He needed to be better, faster and stronger in the future so that Fleur could worry less about his safety.
That, plus... Tom Riddle's agents wanted to use him as an ingredient in their master's revival...
It was time to get serious, which was likely going to be a seriously risky process.
Harry intended to take advantage of Fleur's absence by visiting the Peverel family floo address, because it was better this way, safer... for her. According to the information imparted in the index of the peverel family grimoire, Harry didn't have the security clearance to access the family's spells yet, which was why the rest of the book was full of nothing but indecipherable squiggles.
Apparently, while Harry was accepted as Lord of the family, he was not yet considered worthy of the grimoire from a competency standpoint, and further testing was required. Testing which would likely happen within the Peverel property proper. Testing that would likely involve quite a few extremely dangerous applications of magic.
Long story short, there was a fairly good chance that the Peverel Property was going to be a deathtrap of a similar caliber to vault number seven, Harry didn't like the idea of exposing Fleur to that kind of arbitrary, senseless, danger and he was well-aware she would demand to come along if she found out that he was going.
Tomorrow afternoon at the latest. Harry would visit the Peverel property ASAP...
With that thought to galvanize his body, Harry bounced out of bed and began dressing for his morning run. According to Neville, his uncle, Algie Longbottom, would be waiting for his arrival at the main gates at nine, which was in three and a half hours. This left Harry plenty of time to complete his morning training regime for the first time since the Dueling Tourney prelims.
As he moved towards the lawns, the super-secretive nature of his visit to the DOM, caused a little thrill to run up Harry's back (a feeling he wholeheartedly embraced for obvious reasons), but it also left him wondering...
Why oh why did agent Algernon Longbottom specifically warn Harry not to tell Dumbledore about his plans?
Curiouser and curiouser.
Over the next hour and a half, Harry sprinted like a madman through multiple laps of the obstacle course, sweat flying from his body so quickly he Conjured water directly into his stomach on two different occasions... Part of the reason why he ran so hard was because the effort distracted him from the circumstances and uncertainty surrounding his life. The second reason was because the Lightning Bolt fan-group was back with a vengeance and larger than ever, and Harry had zero desire to interact with them at all.
Finally, with one more hour to spare before the meeting with Algie, Harry moved towards the RoR for his morning lifting routine with Neville, unconcerned about running into Fleur because she'd know this time was for him.
Fleur could be difficult... sure... but she was also considerate and kind and... Abruptly, Harry felt an intense desire to sulk in his dorm-room, causing him to berate himself for his weakness while violently shaking out his head.
For Gods sakes Harry, you have to stop pining!
With a growl of stubborn stoicism, Harry Disillusioned himself to shake off all of his fan-club stalkers, and then he moved like a bat out of hell in the direction of the RoR.
Algernon (Algie) Longbottom was a tall, well built, man the likes of which you hardly ever see in the magical world, which made sense when you really thought about it...
In the muggle world, being powerful is a purely physical state of being and if you want to be powerful you go to the gym. In the magical world, physical power says significantly less about your overall lethality as an individual, so in the end there are a lot of rail-thin but super-deadly people. Hell, even the sport of choice for the lion's share of the magical world is Quidditch, which is a sport played on brooms. While being fit is obviously necessary to play at a high level, it's usually the light weight people of the world who have the most success in the air.
As a result of this difference in focus, while a muscular body does help a wizard achieve superficial attractiveness, it is not the be all and end all that decides a man's worth. For that reason, the denizens of the magical world rarely ever dedicate the time and effort required to have a power-lifter's muscle-tone like Algie Longbottom, and they would consider him weird for putting in all the effort in the first place.
Harry, on the other hand, thought Algie looked cool. The man was like a wizard Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Harry was immediately making up stories in his head about how the man was an assassin or secret agent. He also looked a bit like Neville nowadays because Neville clearly had the same body type and propensity for gaining muscle mass.
Suffice it to say, Harry couldn't wait to point out the similarities between Algie and his friend, because Neville clearly respected the man, and the comparison would likely make his day.
"Hello, my name, as I'm sure you're already aware, is Algernon or Algie Longbottom," the very well-tailored government agent began, when Harry stepped into the threshold of the school's wards and came to a stop in front of the man.
In return, Harry allowed a wry smile to grow across his face, even as he moved to shake the man's gigantic hand. "You just used my go-to greeting format... I'm Harry Potter... It's a pleasure to meet you..."
Abruptly, Algie barked out a laugh and then adopted a grin of his own. "I suppose every introduction you take part in is purely rhetorical... which isn't something I can empathize with..."
"Given where you work, notoriety is likely something to avoid," Harry speculated..
At first,Algie only smiled, tapped the side of his nose twice and then attempted to end his explanation there, only to find Harry staring at him, real curiosity upon his face... "I wouldn't want notoriety anyway," he finally admitted with a candid little shrug. "Longbottom men are almost always shy, working-behind-the-scenes types, and while I wish it were otherwise, I know I'm at my best when I work within that mold."
Suddenly, Algie 's expression turned quite a bit more serious, and he rested a hand atop Harry's right shoulder. "Which is why I appreciate what you've done for Neville, Harry. My nephew means a lot to me."
In that moment, with Algernon's magical shroud conveying real gratitude, sincere appreciation, the intention to somehow return the favor, and a desire to develop a mutually beneficial relationship, Harry finally managed to forgive him for his mistakes in the past... Algernon Longbottom blew it big time when Neville was just a kid, but the man was clearly trying to atone by being someone that his nephew could rely on, and since he was the person that Neville presented a com-earring instead of his primary care-giver Augusta, his efforts were bearing fruit... With that knowledge in mind, Harry figured he'd even the playing field a bit...
"Neville should never have been as isolated as he was until just this year," Harry admitted, his words both sincere and contrite. "Quiet integrity and kindness shine brighter over time, but children are far too busy to notice."
"I agree Harry, I completely agree," Algie replied, his face a mixture of happiness, sadness and powerful relief. "Well... shall we get going?"
With a silent nod of assent, Harry and Algie started moving away from the school gates, as they needed to leave the Wards before the agent could side-along Apparate them to the DOM.
"I'm curious, Harry. Just now, did you mean to imply that Neville has more integrity than you?" Algie did in fact look curious.
"I was almost sorted into a few different houses while sitting under the hat, but the big debate was between Gryffindor and Slytherin," Harry admitted with a shrug. "I have a tendency to keep secrets, bend the truth, and circumvent rules..."
"I seeee," Algie mused with his right hand cradling his chin in thought. "I didn't invite you out today to offer you a job at the DOM, but that might change as the day progresses. You have the psychological makeup for it."
Harry tried his damndest to prevent it from happening, but he was sure he had stars in his eyes by the time Algie was finished speaking, and he only belatedly shook it off while pointing a finger at the man in accusation. "You're having me on! I'm waaaay too high profile for any form of subtlety and that's the kind of work I'm assuming you do."
"Well, I don't know, Harry," Algie countered with an amused look upon his face. "How about you tell me why you might make a good agent?"
"I'm a lightning rod for both attention and trouble, providing a partner or perhaps even a team with plenty of space to operate in," Harry brainstormed. "Plus, I'm so highly visible, no one would ever believe I was an agent, giving me an odd variety of camouflage."
"Both of those ideas are valid and would be given real consideration during a job interview," Algie admitted with a laugh. "You know, Harry… Neville's told me stories about you. The yearly stories of great mystery and adventure. The ballad of Harry Potter. Is it true that you killed a Basilisk at the end of your second year?"
While nodding in response to Algie's question, Harry locked eyes with the man to add a note of seriousness to his response. "I actually think you should see that particular memory for yourself, because if you are what I think you are, you should know everything that I know about that particular incident. It wasn't just a snake in the school. It involved a man named Tom R."
Algie's attention immediately sharpened, and he audibly drew in a breath. "I agree Harry, and I'll get out a Pensieve as soon as we arrive in my office."
All of Harry's suspicions regarding what Algie does and how informed he is were immediately justified by the man's instantaneous and sharp reply. Harry nodded his head as the two of them finished exiting the school's Wards.
"Are you okay with Apparition," Algie asked while extending his hand in Harry's direction.
"Good to go," Harry calmly replied. "I don't have a license yet, but I've learned to Apparate for the tournament. I've never managed completely silent yet, not because it's hard to pull off, but because I despise the way it feels…"
Algie nodded in understanding and waved a hand dismissively. "You're not alone in that regard. To work in my department you must be capable of Apparating silently, but no one demands that you use the skill on a regular basis."
"If I had to do it right now for some very important reason, I know that I could, but I'd be pretty shaken upon arrival," Harry admitted, before asking, "do you know the circumstances of my upbringing?"
"Magic completely bound inside your core since infancy, isolated magically until just eight months ago." In the wake of his words, Algie's expression brightened in sudden understanding and then darkened in even further understanding. "I suppose Apparating silently feels far too familiar to you..."
"Feels exactly the same," Harry quietly revealed. "It unnerves me."
Algie nodded in understanding and gently patted the boy's shoulder. "Well, we'll be popping audibly and cheerfully into my office right now, so no need to worry."
Harry nodded his head again because despite the fact he doesn't like being encouraged/patronized by adults, he did, in fact, feel reassured at the moment. Belatedly however, he could only marvel at how raw and vulnerable Fleur's absence was making him...
Without another word, Harry extended his hand in Algie's direction, and the man grabbed it with long practiced ease.
POP!
As it turns out, the very first room that Harry and Algie entered was the man's office, which just proved that the DOM didn't store much for showmanship. There was no grand lobby or beautiful scenery, just a series of well-warded hallways and office spaces that were deep, deep underground. This, Harry knew for a fact, because with Algie in his Pensieve looking at Harry's Chamber of Secrets memory, the teenaged wizard had the opportunity to magically sniff around.
Harry's magic kept feeling for the Earth's surface, but it was beyond even his furthest range of about two hundred meters.
"Yes, we are very deep underground," Algie declared after exiting the Pensieve memory, and finding Harry staring at the ceiling.
Returning his attention back to his current host, Harry had to admit that the man was a cool customer, mostly because he still looked unruffled, even after watching the extremely alarming memory.
"You won't find the surface with your extrasensory abilities," Algie continued into the silence, his tone light, the content of his words heavy in the extreme.
"When and how," Harry immediately asked, his tone stern.
"How do I know about your abilities," Algie slowly clarified, visibly stalling while he tried to properly frame his answer... "I need you to trust me so I will be forthcoming. In return, I'd very much appreciate it if you didn't make my life... hard."
"You used Leglimency on Neville," Harry immediately concluded.
At first, Algie looked extremely surprised, but then a moment later his expression transitioned to extremely impressed. "I did, and I do, but only because it's necessary. I don't enjoy violating my nephew's privacy..."
"You must be an extraordinarily powerful Leglimancer then," Harry continued, as if talking to himself. "Neville's become a medium level Occlumancer at this point, and under normal circumstances he should at the very least have felt your presence when you broke his defenses."
"I am strong, but I also had good timing," Algie admitted with a sigh and a hand running back through his hair. "You told Neville your story before the boy finished solidifying his Occlusion shields, because you wanted him to stop using his father's wand. Thank you for that by the way... Anyway, in your eagerness to help your friend, you provided me with a lot of information..."
Harry nodded because he always knew there was a slight risk of that happening, but then he stared at Algie with an impassive expression upon his face. "Morally compromising territory aside... Why are you investigating me?"
"Excellent question, and the answer is the primary reason why you're here today," Algie replied while leaning back in his chair. "Tell me, Harry... What do you know about prophecy?..."
"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," Harry instantly barked out while throwing his hands up into the air and clenching his teeth hard enough to strain the muscles of his neck. "You can't seriously expect me to be some damned prophesied hero! It's too damned cliche!"
In an odd change of pace, immediately after screaming those words up towards the ceiling, Harry suddenly wilted back into his chair, his body limp, his expression exhausted.
"You... you actually do believe it," Algie slowly, carefully pointed out, while staring intently at the defeated look upon the teenage wizard's face. Rather than an expression of surprise, Harry looked more like all of his very worst suspicions were just confirmed.
"It all fits too perfectly, if you really think about it," Harry very slowly, very quietly breathed out. "Aside from the fact I've technically been stronger than most fully-matured wizards since essentially birth… I've been raised specifically to be an obedient tool of prophecy..."
At this point, Algae looked extremely confused and just as eager to understand, but he patiently waited for his guest to continue.
"When I was a one-and-a-half year-old, Dumbledore placed me... a powerfully magical baby... in the custody of Muggle psychopaths clinging desperately to a façade of absolute normalcy... and now I know why," Harry pointed out with a deadpan lack of emotion. "My childhood was nothing but neglect, starvation, house-elf like toil, and frequent brutal beatings, causing me to grow up ignorant, highly suggestible, easy to manipulate, desperate to please, and intensely loyal towards the person who freed me from that place..."
"Dumbledore," Algie very quietly breathed out.
"Dumbledore," Harry slowly repeated through a growl. "On exactly my eleventh birthday, this grandfatherly old man arranged for me to be saved from the hell that he subjected me to, and he introduced me to the Magical World... Dumbledore isn't just my savior, he's also considered a paragon of virtue by the entire Magical community, so of course I would hunger for his approval, now wouldn't I?"
"I... I doubt you're wrong... but I wish that you were," Algernon haltingly admitted, his face not placating or pandering, but solemn, serious, giving Harry his due... "So... what now then? I doubt you'll pack up and leave, but I suppose it's a possibility..,"
For several moments in a row, Harry didn't deny the possibility, but eventually he started shaking his head with a completely defeated look upon his face... "Unfortunately for me, everyone that I love is here in Magical Europe. Everyone in the world who gives a damn about me lives and has family here, so I am once again... stuck... I'm once again stuck in place, magically holding up a set of stands, defenseless against a gleeful madman casting curses at me..."
For almost half a minute, Algie simply stared at Harry while digesting his words and the meaning behind them, before abruptly, he leaned forward on the desk and he steepled his hands. "Harry... We here, at the DOM, we're supposed to be the ones who fight off the biggest bads that slither up from the depths. Time has proven that we're a little outclassed by this particular monster... but... We have no interest in having you hold the world together alone while Voldemort takes unanswered pot shots at you. The DOM wants to work with you, Harry, have your back in this fight..."
All of the sudden, Algie's impassioned words came to a stop as he cupped a hand over his ear, he whispered the word visible, and one of Harry's com-earrings was revealed, hooked securely within his earlobe. "With our magi-technicians and your incredible Runewright abilities, we can help you create tools, protective-devices and weapons to protect both you and your allies, and we can assist you in constructing the Wards that you're going to need. Not only that, but we can get the information that you need, and we can provide you the legal authority to do what needs to be done with it. Before we can do any of that however... First, both you and I, we need to put all of our cards on the table..."
Leaning forward over the desk, Algie made his face as sincere and transparent as possible, because this moment was extremely important to the both of them. "In the interest of fairness and because you hate being left ignorant more than almost anything, I will go first. Over the course of this afternoon, I will provide you with as much intel as I can, because it's of vital importance that you trust this organization. Then, when the two of us leave this office, I want you to demonstrate some of your skills, so that we know exactly what we're working with..."
For about thirty seconds, Harry merely sat there, feeling Algernon Longbottom with all of his magical senses, and assessing the man as a person and a potential ally. Then he noddedhis understanding and agreement for the two following reasons:
One) Algernon Longbottom was going way out of his way to be as transparent as possible with him, both regarding his intentions and agency sensitive information, and in the way that his emotions/character traits were reflected within the magic of his shroud. Both magically and psychologically, Algae was an open book, and Harry's magic had a good impression of the man.
Two) Recent events had proven that Harry could not afford to remain as isolated and unsupported as he currently was, which meant that he had no choice but to extend some faith to those people that had common goals.
"For you to understand the full scope of what we're dealing with, you first need to learn about a prophecy and about some very evil objects that Tom Riddle created in the past," Algie supplied into the newfound silence.
"I assume you mean the diary and other objects similar to the diary," Harry surmised.
For the second time in less than five minutes, Algie looked terribly impressed even as he nodded his head in agreement. "Exactly Harry, objects similar to the diary, but let's discuss the prophecy and its interpretations first, and then we'll complete a quick tour of the facilities... Horcruxes are... they're upsetting, and should go last for exactly that reason."
Truth be told, Harry was still reeling from the idea that he was captured in some bullshit prophetic destiny and he really was interested in finding out what it was, but he still found himself shaking his head because he didn't agree that the... Horcrux conversation could be put off... "Algie," he hedged, the words delivered with a seriousness that caused the man's back to straighten. "Before we move on to anything else, there's something you need to know..."
"I'm all ears," Algie immediately replied.
"I haven't destroyed just one Horcrux," Harry slowly, meaningfully announced.
All of the sudden, Algae was leaning way over his work-desk, his eyes locked upon Harry's face along with every scrap of his focus. "Where and how did you find another Horcrux, and what method did you use to destroy it?"
Despite Algie's newfound enthusiasm, Harry's face tightened into grim lines as he looked down at his hands resting atop the desk. "Since Dumbledore prefers to keep me in the dark on basically everything, the only reason I know I've destroyed a second Horcrux is because I've watched the memory in Pensieve form several different times... The day that I destroyed the diary in the chamber of secrets, an inky black wraith appeared out of its pages before being rendered down to nothing, which is a phenomenon that I've experienced a second time..."
And the second time," Algie prompted, when Harry's words slowed and came to a stop.
"The day that I shattered the bindings on my magical core, my magic exploded out of my body in every direction like an expanding bubble of force that bent trees and launched my friend through the air," Harry began, his words dull, his eyes locked on Algie's face. "Can you guess what was expelled from my scar by that wall of magical force and was destroyed by the Patronus I was casting?"
In his excitement to find out about a second destroyed Horcrux, Algernon had started rising to his feet, his hands pressing down into the wood of his desk, but in response to Harry's reveal, he suddenly became very pale, his legs wobbled, he dropped back into his chair, and he began looking at Harry like he might just be a monster... "Harry," he argued, while shaking his head. "It... it can't be true, because Horcruxes are vile... A Horcrux contained inside of your forehead since you were just a baby... Harry, you wouldn't even be you by now. You'd either be a second Voldemort hiding in plain sight, insane beyond measure... or dead. The Horcrux would've been hurting you both physically and spiritually while trying to assert dominance over your mind..."
While, yes, Algernon's words were quite upsetting, in the end Harry found himself shrugging his shoulders because he knew what he knew. "Say what you will, Algie, but I know that I expelled a wraith from my scar, and I also know that I am me. I imagine the horcrux is yet another reason why I had so much trouble accessing large amounts of magic until this year..."
"Most of the ambient magics being released from the Eremus Servientus bindings were being used to minimize the Horcrux's corruption effect upon your body," Algie whispered almost subvocally, his hands fisted tightly atop the table... "I actually do believe you, Harry, because you've been good to my nephew... but here at the DOM, we don't merely take things on faith."
Nodding his understanding, Harry very slowly, very passively drew his wand from its arm holster, he raised its tip straight up into the air, and he did what needed doing. "I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic that I am Harry James Potter and that no other person or spirit has assumed control of my body. Furthermore, I expelled a wraith from the scar on my forehead before destroying it with a Corporeal Patronus charm."
With a bright flash of green light, the Magical Oath was completed, and Harry quickly cast a Lumos spell to display the fact that he still had access to his magic.
"I need to see this Pensieve memory immediately," Algie pointed out with a soft sigh of relief.
Squaring up in front of the Pensieve, Harry carefully extracted the memory from his head with the tip of his wand and then swirled it down into the basin.
"Neville told me that you almost give him a heart attack on a regular basis," Algie breathed out while slowly drawing the Pensieve in his direction. "Truth be told, I thought I could handle you because I thought I had seen and done it all... I was wrong… You are officially too much for me Harry, and I am overwhelmed."
With a sigh and a world weary nod, Harry slumped back into his chair and watched Algernon Longbottom lower his face towards the Pensieve.
After an exceptionally long and tiring afternoon, Harry sat in the DOM cafeteria mulling over the prophecy in a bit of a daze.
Just an hour earlier, after Harry finally finished explaining his life and abilities to a very incredulous looking agent Longbottom, he and Algernon walked down to the Hall of prophecy together, where they watched a wispy specter of Professor Trawlenay convey a series of very cryptic sentences...
"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 other 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..."
Harry simply stood there, as a Professor that most people considered a mean-spirited hack vacantly spoke words that would systematically destroy his whole entire life... and then he hurled the glass container down into the floor with every ounce of his arm-strength, smashing the damned thing to a million little pieces in a fit of uncontrollable outrage.
It was all just so... typical.
Over the course of the afternoon, Algie fully explained what Horcruxes really were, so now Harry understood just what variety of nastiness spent an entire decade above his eyes, just centimeters away from his brain, where his thoughts and feelings were interpreted to create his consciousness...
Abruptly, Harry shivered, as the messed up reality of his situation gave him the heebie jeebies.
Pull up, Harry... Just... keep it together...
Forcing himself to look on the bright side, Harry was legitimately surprised he managed to force the Horcrux out of his scar at all. Considering the prophecy, one of the interpretations could've been that Harry needed to die, because he was a soul-vessel for the monster that he was intended to kill.
Once again, Harry felt a wave of chills surge up his spine, as he failed to see how he could've killed ol Tommy boy with a Horcrux still lodged inside his forehead. Anything short of standing in front of a killing curse on purpose just to fuck the man over would've been a total waste of time.
And that option was no longer available...
Harry had far too much to live for now and too much to lose. He had a ma... a wi... a love… Harry had a love now, and despite the fact he had no idea what she currently wanted from him from a relationship standpoint, he did know that she wanted him alive and safe.
Moving with a mechanical efficiency, Harry spooned a cup of pudding into his mouth, and he cheered himself up with the laundry list of magical devices that he'd begin making with all his new government black-ops resources. At the very least, he was going to Ward all of his friends' homes right out of creation...
Abruptly, Harry's increasingly technical thoughts were dashed to pieces as someone crashed into the table in front of him and then dramatically flopped to the floor.
"Dammit," the girl vocally and fluently cursed, as she spastically bounced back up to her feet. "Wotcher, Harry Potter. I was just over there eating, I saw you sitting here all by your lonesome, and was wondering if you could tell me what a fourteen year old kid is doing inside the DOM of all places?"
The very... interesting looking woman was speaking very loud and fast, with the end result being that several different people from a few different directions were now watching them curiously... and yet Harry couldn't help it... He grinned and almost laughed.
This woman was so... eclectic, as if her character and looks were a hodgepodge that she picked up on her travels, and her magic was the same, fluid and spontaneous and... friendly. Harry could do with some friendly, so he gestured at the table in front of him, and then smiled when the mystery woman sat down.
Of course, Harry had no intention of revealing the real purpose of his presence within the agency, and truth be told, he wouldn't have been able to share the information even if he wanted to... A little less than half an hour earlier, he entered all of the relevant knowledge into a Fidelius charm of his own design before making himself the secret keeper, and then he swore a magically binding oath not to tell anyone the secret without first discussing the matter with Algernon (or in his death, whatever agent took his place in the agency).
Harry couldn't tell this unknown woman the truth, so he might as well lie with style...
After adopting a secretive expression upon his face and leaning in over the table, Harry gestured to the woman that he was going to tell her a secret, and then he smiled when she leaned in with an excited expression upon her unusually expressive face. Then Harry paused for several moments, waiting for the gravity of the secret to grow to a peak, before whispering into her ear in a deadly serious voice... "I'm a junior secret agent for the DOM.
With his 'news' delivered, Harry slid back in his chair and then observed the mystery woman's reaction with a no-nonsense expression upon his face.
"Whaaaaat?! No way! Nuh uh. I have secretly worked here for a year and I have never heard of an intake like that. Normally, one needs to work in an outside agency for years to prove their capability... but then... you're you, so I... I mean... maybe... but still... No way," the woman explosively ranted, her skin and hair cycling through many neon colors and shapes in the intensity of her surprise.
Oh, oh wow, this woman was fun!...
Needless to say, Harry thoroughly enjoyed the female agent's wild response, but he was also interested in the state of her body, and he wondered how she ever kept anything a secret with her outrageous reaction to emotions. Then there was the fact that the woman had nooo idea why Harry was really visiting, and yet she was currently spilling her guts to him in a barrage of reckless words.
Raising a hand to stop the woman in her tracks, Harry leaned in again and he lowered his voice back to secret telling volumes. "You've guessed it right... I've impressed the DOM Directors with my tournament efforts and dueling this year, so they've recruited me early..."
Judging purely by the rainbow of colors that were shifting up and away from the woman's face, she appeared to be losing her cool because she was beginning to believe what he was saying.
Harry was officially having a great damn time with this astonishingly clumsy woman.
"I can't believe it," the woman breathed out in a stunned sounding voice. "I had to apply like fifty different times and I have a uniquely relevant skill-set as a Metamorphmagus..."
Harry actually did know what a Metamorphmagus was (a born that way shape-shifter), but since that particular magical constitution was even rarer than Parseltongues, he hadn't expected to ever meet one in person. Once again, this woman was fun, and he appreciated the way she was cutting into his depression.
And with that goal in mind, Harry decided to mess with the woman just a little bit more...
Wandlessly and silently, Harry suddenly cast a color-changing charm on his own hair, turning it red, as he once again leaned in over the table and spoke in a super serious voice. "But I'm also a Metamorphmagus..."
"NOOOOO WAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!"
Apparently, Harry broke the poor woman's mind, as her multi-colorful eyes began rolling in their sockets in her current state of mad incredulity.
Annnnd Harry couldn't help it anymore. A guffaw slipped from his lips followed closely by a laugh and then a wave of roaring laughter, at which point he couldn't stop himself to save his very life. All of the stress and anxiety that he was carrying around until that point somehow made the moment even funnier, as he unraveled into hysterics and pounded his hands into the table. He laughed so hard he cried, but he didn't even notice, the flowing tears completely inconsequential. Then, finally, when he managed to bring himself back under some semblance of control, he wiped the moisture from his face, and he held his hands up in a placating manner.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Harry exclaimed as the female agent scowled in his direction. "You're right, I'm not an agent and I'm not a Metamorphmagus. I was messing with you, Miss oh! What's your name Miss?"
At first, the woman appeared to be quite miffed at Harry, but she appeared to have a well-developed sense of humor since she visibly forgave him just a few moments later, and she extended a hand in his direction. "Tonks... People just call me Tonks."
"Tonks, like my legal representation Andromeda Tonks?" Harry didn't think the last name Tonks was common enough that he'd run into several of them from different families, and now that he thought about it, his lawyer/agent/teacher had mentioned a daughter by the name of... Abruptly, Harry snapped his finger because he remembered this girl being mentioned, along with the fact that she hates her first name. "Oh," Harry began... "You must be Nymph..."
"Stop!" By the time she barked out that word, Tonks had both of her hands out in front of her body and a completely desperate look upon her face.
Harry stopped immediately.
"Good," Tonks sighed out in relief. "So far, I don't want to hurt you, and I'd hate for that to change."
Fun... This woman was so damned fun...
"Harry..." A masculine voice called out from the background, as Algie approached and stood at the head of their table. "Are you harassing our agents?"
"No sir," Harry immediately replied. "Me and 'She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' were just getting to know each other.
Several men all around the room guffawed at that, partially because the nick-name was funny, but mostly because they knew what would follow...
Tonks instantly exploded into movement in the form of a flying squirrel dive over the table, and she had Harry in a full headlock by the time they dropped to the floor.
At first, Harry laughed, as he shoved a hand in between Tonks' forearm and his windpipe, but over time, as Tonks's arms tightened even more, he began to feel the woman's anger with his body. "I give, I give, Tonks please air," Harry called out, only for her arms to tighten even more... "Someone, anyone, she's murdering a minor! HEEELLLLP MEEEE!"
Many people around the cafeteria laughed, and just as many shook their heads in bemusement, but no one person moved to help. Absolutely everyone in the room knew the cost of making fun of Tonks's name...
"Okay, okay stop now," Algie eventually called out with just enough authority that Tonks would actually listen. "The boy's lost some brain cells at this point, so you can release him now."
Sighing in defeat, Tonks released a rather disheveled looking Harry, and the two of them sloppily returned to their seats.
"Unfortunately for you, Ms Tonks, we have business with the boy," Algie continued in a pained sounding voice. "I'll release him to your justice just as soon as we're done with him."
Tonks nodded as if that were an obvious compromise.
Harry shook his head because the people of the DOM were a breed all their own.
"Now, Harry," Algie tutted with just the vaguest of shit eating grins. "This is not the way that a junior agent behaves around his coworkers..."
"You cretin," Tonks roared at the redheaded Potter boy that was sitting across from her. "Now I'll never know when you're telling the truth or not. Our business relationship is ruined!"
At this point, Harry was just left shaking his head, because all of this was becoming kind of difficult to track. "Junior agent," Harry asked, his tone making it clear to Tonks that this outcome was a surprise.
"Yesss," Algie replied, leaning heavily into the word. "The department heads of the DOM have been impressed with your tournament results and dueling this year, and we have decided to make you an agent. Henceforth, you will be working closely with an agent by the name of Ms. Tonks, as she will be the one retrieving all of the information you need, and she will be your DOM... handler..."
At that revelation, several more outbursts of laughter came from all over the room, because yeah... Tonks wanted to handle the kid alright, until his body was cold and blue.
Tonks, on the other hand, looked between Harry's newly serious face and Algie's perennially stern demeanor, before drawing in a very deep breath and nodding her assent... which made sense. Everyone who works for the DOM was quite well-informed about the circumstances of Harry Potter's life. Mysterious, dangerous and important events just seem to follow the boy around, and that was before the DOM became involved, which meant things were really getting big now.
The agency was moving... and Tonks wanted in.
"I understand, sir," Tonks vocally agreed while nodding a second time. "When can you explain everything to me?"
"Walk with us agent Tonks," Algie replied while turning towards the entrance to the mess hall... "We have much to discuss..."
Soon enough, Tonks and Algernon Longbottom were standing outside of the DOM's highly fortified training rooms, where Harry was about to display his full abilities for the two of them, and in the meantime, Algie would explain exactly what she was getting into. A process that apparently required Tonks read something off of a piece of paper that Harry handed to her before entering the room. A piece of paper that she wasn't yet allowed to look at...
Turning in Algie's direction, Tonks scrutinized the man closely before doing her very best to look completely deadpan serious (Tonks is terrible at that particular expression). If you don't mind me asking, sir. Why is the Head of the DOM, Lord Algernon Longbottom himself, becoming so very involved with a fourteen year old wizard?"
"Because Harry Potter is going to save Magical Britain," Algie calmly but seriously replied.
"Pardon," Tonks breathed out, giving voice to her confusion.
"You'll get your answers before the end of the day, but by the time we're done here, you might not even need them," Algie assured, his eyes focused through the magically reinforced glass into the training room beyond.
While drawing in a deep breath to prevent herself from shaking answers out of her boss, Tonks watched as Harry Potter smiled at the proctors that were setting up his training sim, but shook his head and gestured that he'd need additional simulacrum doll adversaries.
The proctors didn't move. They thought the boy was full of shit.
Stepping over to the door, Algie quickly stuck his head into the training room door and began giving the testing proctors a verbal lashing that was more in line with what Tonks knew of Algernon Longbottom. "Give the boy even more Simulacrums than he's asking for! Fill the damn room with them right this very instant! I want to see impossible levels of difficulty and I want to see them now!"
The startled proctors instantly hopped to it, and were soon lining the entire room with quite frankly ridiculous amounts of professional simulacrum. They ran off into the other training areas to get even more while Harry stretched out his muscles.
Finally, when additional simulacrums would only hinder each other and the training room reached a level of difficulty that Tonks had never even considered as a possibility, Algie finally seemed satisfied, and he gave the proctors a thumbs up.
"I read the Prophet everyday, so I know Harry's strong," Tonks said in a low voice. "Still... You'd need to have eyes on every surface of your body to defend against that..."
"Indeed," Algie slowly replied.
Now that Harry was finished with his stretching, he checked his DOM issue training clothes for fit and shape, nodded in satisfaction, and began hopping in place as if he was playing tennis with a friend.
"Okay, please spill sir," Tonks pleaded because all of the sudden, she was getting that down the rabbit hole feeling...
"Patience, Tonks," Algie commented, an almost sing-song quality to his baritone voice. "Harry will be training for the rest of the afternoon, so we have plenty of time to talk, but I want you to watch this first test carefully."
Abruptly, most of the lights turned off within the simulation room, descending the space into twilit darkness... and Tonks completely lost her train of thought. Within the next few seconds the simulacrum dolls would begin attacking, and she had no damned idea how they expected anything other than complete obliteration to happen inside of that testing room.
The simulacrum dolls might just send a mixture of a stinging hex with a red paint spell, but... "Can stinging hexes kill if they land in the thousands?"
"No... but you might end up wishing they can," Algie replied to the question Tonks's hadn't known she'd asked out loud.
All of the sudden, a loud alarm klaxon went off within the training room. The simulation was starting...
And the spot where Harry was standing just a split second earlier was completely vacant.
Leaning forward to press her forehead against the glass, Tonks quickly scanned the entire testing room with her eyes and after several moments passed she finally spotted the boy moving like a damned ghost in and amongst the simulacrum. Harry was... not quite a blur, but moving really, really, ridiculously fast, and he was... "How many Protego shields does he have up right now?"
For the second time in less than a minute, Tonks's inner-monologue had failed her, and she asked the question aloud.
"Who knows," Algie replied with a bemused shake of his head. "The boy moves much faster than human upper-register, so it's impossible to accurately count them all."
Within the testing room, Harry was dodging and threading through exactly forty professional quality simulacrum, with a wild look of feral enjoyment upon his face. The air was alive with amassed curses but the boy moved as if everything was perfectly choreographed, with countless Protego shields popping into existence for just instants at a time to deflect hundreds of curses away from his body and into his enemies.
Not only that, but the boy wasn't even bothering to use his wand right now, but was wandlessly spamming impact curses in every direction as if he was a porcupine made of magic. Harry Potter weaved, and he spun, and he leapt back and forth with so much speed and coordination, he looked like an anime character evolving, until all of the sudden, there was a three hundred and sixty degree wall of curses flying towards his body, and he threw out all the stops.
A dome shield, three hundred and sixty degrees of golden glowing magic, completely enfolded his body, deflecting the mass curses in a random spray that hit many of his attackers. Then, as soon as he was free of the barrage that trapped him in place, he was spinning free and weaving amongst the dolls again like a blur of magical death...
"So much speed, so many shields, so many silent and wandless spells, sooooo impossible," Tonks just barely breathed out in her current state of mind-crippling shock.
"You haven't seen anything yet, because Harry isn't even using his wand right now," Algie conveyed before pausing and drawing in a deep, refreshing breath. "Tonks... I'm going to turn this boy into something truly terrifying... and then he's going to save us all."
Slowly, jerkily, Tonks's head swiveled towards her department head, as she began to realize the true scope of what she was getting involved in... She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
"I think," Algie hedged. "It's time for you to read the note that Harry gave you.
Removing the slip of paper from her pocket, Tonks read the wordsHarry Potter is prophesied to be the only one who can permanently kill the Dark Lord Voldemort, and she immediately flinched at the contents of the note.
Listen carefully Tonks! Algie snapped the words at his junior agent because he needed her full attention and he needed it ASAP. When Tonks came out of her shock and confusion Algie nodded his appreciation and decided to start the story at the beginning. When Harry Potter was a new born baby a prophecy was made regarding the eventual downfall of the Dark Lord Voldemort...
Over the following three hours, Algie told Tonks the ballad of Harry Potter with as much detail as he knew... which was a lot. He was very well informed between his own professional sleuthing and the very long and edifying conversation that he had with Harry earlier that day, and by the end of the afternoon Tonks knew just about everything there was to know regarding Harry's upbringing, school life and recent history.
Tonks is a kind soul, so she was very upset by the time Algie finished his story. Upset at Dumbledore, upset at Magical Britain, upset that one of their own was left to be beaten and abused... but she was also concerned, because Harry appeared to be a good and well-intentioned (if mischievous) young man... which was an outcome that they didn't deserve...
As if to prove Tonks's point, Harry easily and repeatedly smashed every line of advanced simulacrum dolls that the DOM had in stock, before spending the rest of the afternoon casting immensely powerful curses at moving targets that are supposed to clock your spell strength. As of now, the DOM still had no damned idea how strong the boy really was, because he kept obliterating all of their very durable and expensive equipment. They eventually just gave up, set Potter up against an extremely powerfully Warded wall and said the words bring it down…
Harry was currently going at that project with a will.
Eventually, the question could no longer be put off, so Tonks turned towards Algie again and gestured into the training room... "How would we make that boy any stronger?"
"He's inhumanly fast, strong and essentially omniscient to his surroundings," Algie explained in a very calm and cool tone of voice. "We can't make Harry magically stronger if that's what you're referring to. What he needs from us most is training and support. Right now, he's just a powerful and gifted civilian. What he needs to become is an agent, and that's what we're going to help him become. What we're going to do is start applying Battle Mage Runes on his body as soon as practicable. We're going to make him smarter, tougher, more versatile... and then we're going to teach him how to war..."
Tonks couldn't help it, she gasped. "Aren't you putting too much faith in the boy sir? He's already so strong... Couldn't he just turn around and take over the entire country at some indefinite time in the future?"
"He wouldn't have to," Algie simply and candidly replied. "Harry will probably own half the world by the time he dies anyway."
"Sir?" Tonks was beginning to feel a little afraid of the answer.
A very rare grin slid onto Algie's face as his eyes panned in Tonks's direction. "I'm going to be securing an oath of silence from you regarding everything you've learned today, do you understand?"
Tonks nodded almost but not quite immediately.
"To begin with, Harry is a Most Ancient and Noble Lord of at least two families at this point, if not three, so right from the get go he comes from extreme wealth, but in a few years, that wealth will be just the tip of the iceberg," Algernon predicted. "Talent scouts from all over Magical Europe already expect Harry to become the greatest seeker to ever come out of Britain, but even sports fame will only ever be a hobby, because the Galleons it provides won't mean much at all..."
Professional Quidditch... as a hobby," Tonks breathed out, unable to picture the kind of wealth Algie was describing...
"Acting under a pseudonym, Harry has already Runescribed and mass produced some of the most popular magical devices created in decades, and is already in the process of becoming wealthy on an international scale," Algie slowly revealed. "The boy will only become richer as time goes by because he magics like a Noble Lord and entrepreneurs like a muggle... so you see... If Harry eventually decides he wants to 'own the world', he won't have to take it... It would be far simpler and easier merely to buy it..."
"No offense, sir, but my original question still stands," Tonks whispered. "He's too... he's so..."
After allowing a moment of silence to pass, Algie sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, yes I understand your concerns, but I've comprehensively vetted him by thoroughly interviewing everyone that he's ever had any dealings with. I have interviewed Dumbledore, the Weasleys, his Professors at Hogwarts and I have meticulously sifted through my own nephew's memories of the boy while he sleeps. Believe me, Tonks… I've put a lot of time into investigating the boy and I know his character. Harry isn't avaricious or ambitious in the way you're thinking, and he actively dislikes fame as a result of being both hero-worshipped and reviled. The boy wants one thing and one thing only. He wants a happy family life and a strong circle of friends. He wants a chance to be happy..."
In the wake of Algie's words, Tonks abruptly decided to let the matter go. If the legendarily brutal and hard to please Algernon Longbottom was certain of this kid, then what else did she need to know.
Settling in next to her boss at the viewing window of the training room, Tonks and Algie both just stood there, watching Harry Potter unleash hell on a Warded bunker-wall until the mortar started to crumble off, revealing the protection Runes, and they were forced to stop the boy before he caused a cave in.
By the time Fleur's unconsciousness grew to a solid eighteen hours long, Dobby was officially about to lose his empathic mind with worry. While, yes, Fleur was gracious enough to warn him that she was about to spend a good long time in her Mindscape, she also ordered him not to tell anyone about it, which was decidedly not.
Dobby was growing scared now, and he couldn't warn anyone because house elves follow their orders.
Around four-thirty Pm, Dobby noticed that he was legitimately pacing a groove into Fleur's bedroom floor, but he didn't magically repair it because he wasn't done pacing yet...
Abruptly losing his cool, Dobby jumped up onto the bed straddling his mistress, and he looked at her face for any sign of her waking...
Nothing! Dammit!
Dobby just sat there staring at Fleur's eyes, shifting gently under her eyelids, and unbeknownst to him, he was hovering closer and closer to her face over time. He was mere inches from her face now and he was stock still, observing her with every scrap of his focus.
All of the sudden, Fleur's eyes popped open without any warning whatsoever and her face flew forwards slamming their heads together in a violent fashion.
"Mistress I'm so sorr..."
"Merde, damn, ouch what the, why?...Dobby?" Fleur was awake, looking rattled and was scanning the room for the source of her new headache. Too bad Dobby was currently tangled in the room's hanging light fixture after launching backwards in a state of abject shock.
"Up here... Mistress..." Dobby murmured, suddenly feeling completely exhausted.
After looking up and catching sight of Dobby, a grin slowly bloomed across the French witch's face. "Why are you just hanging around Dobby? Laziness is so unlike you?"
"Hah ha ha Mistress. If you'll just ignore my presence, I think it's my turn to sleep for eighteen hours..." With his words delivered, Dobby's head flopped back, hanging free to convey his limp-bodied relief that his mistress was okay.
"Eighteen hours," Fleur exclaimed, her face slack-jawed in surprise.
"Yes, yes, eighteen whole hours of mild to severe panic, dutifully performed by your faithful house elf Dobby," the little servant said in an exhausted little voice.
"Oooohhhh, Dobby," Fleur cooed as she Accio'd the little house elf down and into her arms. She squeezed him like a teddy bear and placed him gently on the bed. "I'm so sorry my dear. You are soooo cute sometimes though..."
"I know, I know I'm adorable. Please never do that to me again. If my appearance was capable of changing, I'd have gray hairs right now." Dobby sounded like he was sleep talking at the moment.
"I won't, I promise," Fleur replied in a soothing tone of voice. "Do you know where 'Arry is at the moment?"
"Department of Mysteries," Dobby quietly replied. "He's been safe but his emotions have been in the extremes of every register today. He's experienced depression, rage, excitement, sadness, futility, hope, joy, mirth, feral brutality and above all else... He misses you..." Dobby's voice had trailed off at that and he had fallen asleep.
Fleur drew a blanket on top of the poorly used house elf and kissed his forehead softly. She needed to find her husband, drop to her knees, beg for forgiveness and find out what in the world was going on...
To Be Continued
Author's Note:
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