Things are going to go slightly different than what I originally planned in this fic. But there'll be a logical explanation for it, I promise!
I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, then my stories would be on the shelves of your local bookstore, not on here.
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Chapter 3 - Superman for a Day
When Ginny Weasley woke up in the morning, she followed a routine: eat breakfast alone, take a shower, brush her teeth, brush her hair and then go out to attend to the day's business. Even though she would never admit it, she was lonely, but her pride and her vanity would not allow her to eat with another in her presence, the reason being four long scars running down her pale left cheek.
She remembered how almost a year ago, she and a few of her assistants caught a group of people trying to steal something from her archives. She managed to hit one of them with a cutting charm, but they all survived, and it turned out that they had stolen the blueprints to Azkaban. About a month later, while she was standing in front of the vacant lot where her brothers' shop once stood, she heard a noise behind her. When she turned around, she felt pain shoot through her face as something swiped at her, but it disappeared before she could see what it was. The healers had told her that there was some sort of potion in her wounds that, while it did not debilitate her, prevented the use of any healing spells or potions, so it would have to heal naturally, leading to the scars that disfigured her otherwise perfect face.
Sighing in resignation, Ginny donned a pale white full-face mask that covered her features before walking out of her quarters to face the rest of the world.
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Hermione moaned groggily as she stirred from her sleep. But when she tried to move, she felt something constrict around her. She also felt something blowing on her neck, tickling her slightly. She opened her eyes to find herself lying next to Harry, her back pressed to his chest and his arm wrapped around her waist. Carefully pulling herself out of his hold so that he wouldn't wake, she wrote down a note and slid it into his hand. Then she put on her robe and cast a disillusionment charm on herself and took the various shortcuts back to her quarters in the Headmaster's office. Locking the doors tightly, she grabbed some fresh clothes and climbed into a hot shower.
"How the hell did that happen?" Hermione asked herself as she relaxed under the hot water. "I know that people move in their sleep, but how did we get from sleeping on opposite sides of the bed to spooning each other?!" She looked down to see the steam condensing on the smooth metallic surface of her prosthetic arm and sighed. "It was just an isolated incident, Granger, stop fretting about it." But in spite of those words, in her mind, she asked herself, why was it affecting her so much to begin with?
When Harry stirred awake, he instinctively reached over to hold Hermione, but instead felt a piece of parchment in his hand. He unfolded it and held it close, sleep still blurring his vision.
Harry,
Went back to my office to change. I'll be back soon.
Hermione
A crack caught his attention, and he looked up to see a house elf conjure a table to lay a tray with a bowl of broth, a couple pieces of bread, a glass of water and a vial of potion on. Bowing, the house elf cracked away without a word, and Harry began to eat his simple meal, gulping down the potion with a grimace.
After he had finished his meal, he went into his closet and found some clothes and wizard robes, and after donning them, opened his door to see Hermione standing there, her hand raised to knock on the door.
"Oh, you're ready," she said awkwardly. "Umm, come on then, we need to get you a new wand," she continued, moving aside so Harry could step out. They walked to a cabinet with sky-blue doors and large enough for a grown person to stand in sitting to one side of the hallway. Hermione turned a colored knob on the side until it showed emerald green. She turned around to see Harry's confused face. "We figured out how to make more Vanishing Cabinets, as well as how to program them to go to different destinations, so we color coded the cabinets for various areas," she explained. She opened the doors and beckoned Harry to step inside. When they both walked in, the doors closed, and Harry briefly felt a feeling of vertigo before the doors opened to find themselves in a different hallway. When they stepped out, the doors closed to show that they were indeed an emerald green color.
"So, how many of those things are there?" Harry asked as they wandered down the unfamiliar corridor.
"I think we have about fifteen different colors, each corresponding for things like the Great Hall, the dungeons, the Astronomy Tower, et cetera," Hermione answered, "and an average of three cabinets per area for maximum efficiency." The stopped in front of a door and Hermione knocked on it. It swung open silently to show an impossibly large room covered wall-to-wall with wand boxes, as well as various supplies. Near the front was the elderly wand maker Ollivander, as well as a small, scruffy man.
"Ah, Mister Potter," Ollivander said, giving him that stare that made Harry felt like he was being scanned again. "You've come to see me for yet another wand? I'm getting quite a bit of business from you. Well, like they say, the third time's the charm. Hopefully, you'll quit breaking my products." Ollivander's face fell as he went on. "Unfortunately, due to the rather large inventory of mine and my...associate," he continued, a look of bitterness on his face when he said the word "associate", "you will unfortunately have to find it yourself. But just look for that feeling that you felt when you got your other wands."
Gulping at the rather intimidating selection of wands, Harry held his hand up and slowly walked past the wands. After a few minutes of searching, he felt a pull towards one certain one, and pulled it out. He opened it to see a black wand, elegantly carved.
"Ahh," a scratchy voice next to Harry said. He turned to see the second wand maker standing at around shoulder height to him. "You've chosen one of mine. Twelve inches, ash wood and a dual core of unicorn hair wrapped around the wing bone of a thestral. Quite an interesting combination." His piece said, the old man hobbled back to his workstation to continue constructing new wands. Wordlessly, Harry and Hermione stepped out and began wandering the castle again.
"Hermione, what happened while I was gone?" Harry asked as they wandered aimlessly. Hermione sighed dejectedly and began talking.
"After your conviction, the government began becoming anti-Muggleborn again. But it was slower than last time, a bit subtler. First it began with a few layoffs within the Ministry, but it turned out that all those sacked were Muggleborns. Then Muggleborns started paying higher taxes for goods, then laws preventing them from taking positions in government, and it just snowballed from there. Now, being a Muggleborn in this society is no better than being a werewolf or other non-human being, and we both know how rough Remus had it." Hermione took another dejected sigh before continuing. "The Ministry tried to impose attendance laws on Hogwarts like when Voldemort controlled the Ministry, but Professor McGonnagal would have none of it. We ultimately had to cast a Fidelius charm to protect the school from invaders. Now we keep a close eye on the book that writes down the names of those who will attend school, and we send emissaries to the Muggleborns. We try to teach them privately and keep them out of government hands, but it's difficult: we're running out of tutors, and the castle was getting overcrowded, so we had several safe houses built so that they could remain as protected as possible." Harry closed his eyes and processed this new information.
"Why did it take you so long to get me out?" Harry asked. Hermione looked down at the ground ashamed.
"We tried for years to appeal your trial, looking up every obscure law we could, but the Wizengamot stonewalled us at every corner. Then we decided to break you out, but we had no idea how to do it. We had to steal various plans and blueprints for Azkaban, we had to know about prisoner protocol, we had to get authentic outfits for the masquerade. As ashamed as I am to say it, it took a lot of time to do all of that." Harry stopped as they passed a window to see that it was raining outside, a perfect reflection to how he was feeling.
"How's Teddy? Is he alright?" he asked, trying to escape from this depressing conversation. Hermione seemed to brighten up slightly at his query.
"Yes, he's growing up to a fine young man," Hermione said proudly. "He studies hard, and is quite devoted to those he cares about."
"Can I see him?" Harry asked excitedly. Hermione shook her head gently.
"Later, Harry. He's in lessons right now, and it would probably be best if we didn't interrupt. How about we go down to the Room of Requirement and test out your new wand?" she offered. Harry nodded his consent, and they found another Vanishing Cabinet. She turned the knob until it showed orange, and they stepped inside to find themselves standing right in front of the Room of Requirements. Hermione opened the door to show a room built rather like a Muggle firing range, with people standing in individual stalls firing at targets at the far end of the room. There was also a thin man with thick square glasses jotting figures down on a clipboard. Harry walked to an empty stall and looked at the other people perform. They were firing spells to knock down bulls-eye targets, only for them to stand up a few seconds later. Taking aim, Harry decided to cast a stunning hex.
"Stupefy!" Harry shouted. Instead of the normal small red bolt of energy, a large shockwave shot out of his wand, knocking down the two targets in the stalls to either side of his and blasting the target he was aiming for off of its stand, sending it crashing into the far wall. The occupants stood in silent shock at Harry's astounding display of power, including Harry himself. "What the hell just happened?" he managed to gasp out.
"I think I can answer that," the geeky man with the clipboard said. "Although I'd like it if this were a private conversation." Nodding, Hermione turned to the other occupants who were listening in curiously.
"Okay, guys, give us some privacy," she said, shooing them away. Groaning in disappointment, the others milled out of the room until it was empty except for Harry, Hermione and the geek.
"Firstly, my name is Archie Petri," the geek said, shaking Harry's hand. "Secondly, have you used any magic at all while in prison?" The Room of Requirement automatically conjured three chairs for its occupants to sit in, and Harry sat down, shaking his head.
"I tried Occlumency, but it didn't work; it's like they blocked my magic somehow," he answered honestly. Archie nodded, as if he was expecting such an answer.
"I thought they might. Okay, every witch and wizard has a magical core, which all spells draw their energy from, like a battery," Archie began to explain. "Now, to compensate for the loss due to spell casting, a person's magical core automatically recharges itself at a fixed rate. But the thing is, is that a core never stops charging, ever, and a pre-school-aged child's core is unstable, so there's really nothing to contain that excess energy, so it spills out. That's what a child's accidental magic is, overflow. By the time a child receives their first letter to Hogwarts or wherever, their core has begun to stabilize, or `harden,' to say otherwise, so that it can better contain that excess energy. By the time a person has reached the age of majority, it has stabilized completely, so nothing gets out unless you let it out.
"Now, for a normal wizard, buildup is no real issue, because you're always expending energy for everyday tasks. But in your case, you've basically been spending the past thirteen years building up power, that it's basically become pressurized. You know how you shake a bottle of pop, you crack the seal and shit flies everywhere? That's basically what's happening with you: you have so much energy jammed into so small a package that every time you `break the seal' so to speak by casting a spell, that energy just flies out in an attempt to relieve that pressure as quickly as possible. I'd reckon you could play Superman for two weeks to a month, if you're conservative. Or you could walk into the Ministry of Magic, let it all loose at once, and cause the wizarding world's version of Hiroshima, but you're choice." Harry blinked dumbly as he tried to make sense of that explanation.
"So why did none of the Death Eaters have superpowers, if they've been in prison just as long as I have?" Harry asked. Archie shrugged.
"Seeing as how magic is also the reason why we heal so quickly, and considering how often Voldemort used the Cruciatus on his subjects, I wouldn't be too surprised if they used up their excess power healing themselves after torture sessions," he said.
"What about Sirius?" Harry asked. "He was in around the same time I was." Hermione shook her head.
"Sirius said that he used his powers as an Animagus to keep himself sane. The transformation requires power, and he probably did it often, so he wouldn't have had that much excess power when he escaped," she explained. Harry rubbed his neck tiredly.
"So basically, until I spend all this extra power, I'm basically a walking bomb?" he asked, figuring he already knew the answer.
"No, you won't explode," Archie said, surprising Harry. "You do have the potential power to cause as much devastation as a bomb, but you won't spontaneously explode, if that's what you're asking. At least, I think you won't." Harry sighed and cradled his head in his hands.
"Why is nothing in my life ever simple?" he groaned rhetorically.
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I think this is the first fic where Harry gets super-powered WITHOUT being an heir to a dozen families or going through a strange ritual.
Don't forget to read and review!
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