Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha and the Wizarding World; Lyrical Witch Two
Chapter 1: Dobby Defeated
My name's Nanoha Takamachi, and I'm eleven years old. I used to be an ordinary kid, but two years ago I met a talking ferret and entered a world of magic. I made some really good friends and a year ago got to go to a school with even more magic! It's dangerous some of the time, but I really like it.
After school let out a few months ago I started texting Harry almost every day. His relatives make him work really hard and I don't think they like him much. The weirdest thing, though, every time I've sent him a letter by owl, it never got to him.
Nanoha shook her head at her phone. "I don't believe this."
She was sitting at home, working quietly at a table while her family went about their day. It was a bit like being back in the Ravenclaw common room at Hogwarts, except it was completely different. For one thing, at Hogwarts she wouldn't be studying a science textbook, Hogwarts, a History, Honored History of Mahoutokoro School of Magic, and TSAB Air Force Academy: An Introduction. She also wouldn't have her sister, Miyuki, sitting next to her trying to get her head around differential equations.
Miyuki glanced over. "What happened?" she asked.
"Remember how I blew my allowance on a postcard to Harry?" Nanoha asked glumly.
Miyuki thought back a bit. "Oh, right. Because of the owls not getting there."
"Yeah. I thought maybe a regular mailman would have more luck."
"Did it?" Miyuki asked.
"Harry's uncle burned the letter in front of him."
Miyuki blinked. "You're kidding."
"I'm really not," Nanoha said glumly. "They're not nice people."
"Understatement," Miyuki snorted.
"Why are you worrying about this so much?" Miyuki asked. "It's bad, but it's not like you can't keep in touch."
"Fate and I are the only ones Harry's talked to all summer," Nanoha protested. "Ron, Hagrid, and Hermione are really frustrated. And I can't believe the other Gryffindor's haven't tried to send a postcard or...or something. And it's almost his birthday, and we can't send him any gifts."
"I thought you got Ron a magic-proof phone for Christmas."
"His father got his hands on it."
"Yeesh, another mean parent?"
"No," Nanoha said quickly. "Just...really enthusiastic about electronics. And he doesn't know a lot about them."
Miyuki winced at the combination. "Bye bye phone."
"Look kiddo, I know you're worried about your friend, but don't freak out too hard, okay? You still need to decide where you're headed to school." It had been absurdly obvious after Nanoha got back from her first year at Hogwarts that she was not going back to any school her family had ever heard of. She liked helping people and she had strong magical powers, her career choices were going in that direction. Given her father's former line of work, no one could fault her for it either.
"Yeah," Nanoha sighed. "It's not easy to just pick one," she complained. "The Air Force Academy would help me and Raising Heart the most, but..."
"But?" Miyuki pressed.
"Well, I think I could get through the course work in summer classes. I mean, this is really easy." She waved her hand over the TSAB primer and it projected a three dimensional representation of a decompressed magical circle that made Miyuki's brain hurt. "This is supposed to be for advanced students, but all you have to do is connect these nodes," Nanoha casually adjusted the image and the eldritch abomination mutated into a Belkan triangle, "and there it is. Easy."
Miyuki shook her head at just how smart her sister was. No, that wasn't quite right. Skilled, that was better. Nanoha still didn't quite get how extraordinary her regimen of training simulations and telepathic educational supplements was. "What about Mahoutokoro?"
Nanoha made a bit of a face at that one. "The tour was nice but they seemed a bit freaked by my wand." Cherry wands were prized by Japanese wizards, but the combination of cherry and dragon heart was one of the most volatile in wandlore, and usually signified a witch whose raw power was to be respected, whatever her age or skill. "They were also a little traditional and, um..."
"Sycophantic?" Miyuki suggested.
"Probably," Nanoha agreed as Raising Heart explained the word to her. "They traced Dad to the Fuwa clan and bam, I'm a samurai-witch and offered a position among the Malfoys in the school."
"Malfoy? Oh, one of the Hogwarts students?"
"Yeah," Nanoha said. "He's convinced he's better than everyone else in the school. Probably the world." She blinked. "I wonder if coming from a samurai clan would leave an impression on him."
Miyuki snorted. "He'll grow out of that. So, that leaves Hogwarts."
Nanoha nodded without enthusiasm. "Which is really far from home and not really helpful with being a mage."
Miyuki thought that over a bit. "You're ranked what, AAA?"
"AAA air combat," Nanoha corrected.
"Right, and Fate?"
"Same as me," Nanoha said.
"What about Hayate?"
"AAA+ composite," Nanoha said. "She'd probably only rank around B air combat."
"So the TSAB values mages with weird skills?"
"Yeah...heeey," Nanoha gave her sister a punch on the shoulder. "You tricked me!"
"So are you telling Mom that you're heading back to Hogwarts or do you want me to?"
"So, Nanoha is going back to Hogwarts?" Lindy asked
Fate nodded. Like Nanoha, she was studying at home over the summer, but her most of her texts came straight from schools on MidChilda. She also had a small collection of local books that she was using to help deal with some of the eccentricities of Earth cultures. One, The Magical Guide to Muggles, she was planning on gifting to the Takamachis. They would doubtless find it hilarious. "Yeah. She's going to look into a correspondence course and summer lessons with the Academy."
Lindy considered her adopted daughter carefully. While Nanoha had pushed an impossible amount of education into two short years, Fate had been born...created with much of that knowledge in place and then trained to use what she had been...programmed with. Not for the first time she silently cursed Presea Testarossa for her innumerable crimes against their daughter. One of those crimes was the brutal isolation the child had underwent before meeting Nanoha.
It was absolutely stunning the difference a single term at Hogwarts had made in Fate. She was a serious child, goal-oriented, even dour. But over Christmas she was laughing and teasing and had a life to her that normally only shone in the middle of pitched combat against a worthy opponent. "That sounds like a good idea" Lindy said. "If she went to the Academy she'd be enrolled with much older students."
"She's a year ahead at Hogwarts, Mom," Fate grumbled.
"Better than five or ten years," Lindy pointed out. "Ask Chrono how the Enforcer training was for him some time."
Fate drummed her fingers. "Hogwarts was pretty fun," she said wistfully.
Lindy smiled. "I'll make the arrangements then."
Fate startled. "But Mom, I haven't decided yet."
Lindy just kept smiling. "Yes you have." She got up and headed to her den. "And when you figure it out, I'll be ready."
Fate just stared after her mother. "How can she know what my decision is?" she asked no one. "I don't even know what it is." She looked down at Bardiche. "Am I that predictable?"
"You were not supposed to agree, Bardiche."
"And you'll be?" the large man asked nastily.
"I'll be up in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," the child answered dully.
"Too right you will."
All things considered, being ignored was better than Harry Potter usually expected for a birthday. In his whole life he only had two good birthdays. The first was when he was one year old, which he only remembered through photographs. The other was just last year, when he made his first friend. Between those two, birthdays were just a day of chores. Sometimes extra chores, just to drive home the point. But those were better than the years that no one remembered at all.
You see, Harry lived with his aunt and uncle ever since his parents were murdered by a madman called Voldemort. Tragic enough on its own, but Harry wasn't just a victim of a psychopath. He was a wizard, like his parents before him. And, well, his aunt didn't like that. And his uncle really didn't like it. And because of it, neither of them liked him.
Things were looking better this year, if only because the Dursleys were terrified of him. A couple nonsense words would send Dudley screaming. Aunt Petunia was made of sterner stuff, she was pretty sure that he couldn't do any real magic at home, but she didn't think about it much. That would mean thinking about her sister. Her chest always hurt when she was forced to think about the freakishness she endured as a child.
Then there was Uncle Vernon. He was a lot louder than Petunia, with a shorter temper and a lot more muscle. Petunia was more dangerous when she got mad, but Vernon was always dangerous. He'd yell and rant and even throw things.
Harry idled most of his day wandering around the yard. Long experience made him nearly as good a cook as Petunia, but he was never allowed to cook anything important. He might contaminate the meal. Worse, he might be complimented for it.
Harry pulled out his cellphone once he was well out of sight of Number 4. Keeping the phone a secret had nearly driven him spare, but it was worth it. He found a bunch of texts waiting and grinned. He left the thing on silent, not even letting it vibrate. If the Dursleys ever had a clue that he wasn't isolated...well Nanoha's letter was still fresh in his memory.
Hm. A few messages from Nanoha and Fate. Nothing exciting, really, but he read every word like it was the best novel in the world. Then a real gem, a full transcribed letter from Ron. He didn't get much from Ron or Hermione since every word had to be copied by Nanoha. Apparently Mr. Weasley had tried to fix the "tell fone" again and had managed to turn it into a chicken. (Harry quickly resolved not to ask how that had happened. He was afraid it might make sense.) And Mr. Weasley had no luck finding out if the department in charge of owls had found out where Harry's mail was going. The owls all came back just fine, so clearly they were being delivered. No one had risked addressing letters to one of the Dursleys – Harry had made it very clear that the letter vanishing was a best case scenario for such a test.
Harry sent off some replies and checked the phone's time. Almost supper. He hid it away and turned back. Back at the Dursley's Petunia shoved a bit of bread and a wedge of cheese at him and then Vernon tossed him in his room. Harry sighed and sat on his bed.
Only, someone was sitting on it.
And that was how the Boy Who Lived met the Elf Who Ruined the Japanese Golfer Joke.
Harry studied the closet for a long moment. He had a slightly deranged house elf in his closet. A slightly deranged house elf demanding he renounce his only way out of this horrible house and, more than that, was making no effort to not get Harry in trouble with his relatives. He'd gotten a warning, the next to come would be throwing stuff, and if things got really bad Vernon might hit him. Maybe if he left the elf in there he'd be quiet.
But then, Dobby would never leave. And it wasn't like Harry could just never open the closet again. Wincing, he opened the door. "Please be quiet, Dobby," he begged.
That, clearly, was the wrong thing to say. "Please!" Dobby shrieked. "Never, never has Dobby been asked to do something, sir!"
"Dobby, if you aren't quiet, that big muggle is going to come up here and kill me," Harry whispered urgently. "And if I don't go back to Hogwarts, same thing!" He flinched at the sound of his own voice. Why couldn't he keep it under control? Was Dobby infectious? Lose-control-of-voice-flu?
Dobby looked down at the floor. "Dobby is thinking the fat muggle is not so dangerous to Harry Potter as Hogwarts."
Harry rolled his eyes. That was a right laugh. "But Dobby, even if it is a bit dangerous, I've got friends at Hogwarts. I'm all alone here. I can't even do magic."
"Friends that don't even write to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked.
Harry had a denial on his tongue when his brain caught up with him. His eyes narrowed. "How did you know about that?" he asked dangerously.
Dobby flinched. "Harry Potter must not be angry with Dobby."
"What did you do?" Harry hissed.
Dobby pulled out a stack of letters. It wasn't that big, he saw most of them were dated before they figured out that someone had stopped his mail. "Dobby did it for the best. If Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him..."
Harry wasn't about to tell the elf how badly he'd bungled that. The lengths his friends went to trying to keep in touch were, in some ways, a great deal more heartwarming than the letters themselves. "Give those to me," he ordered.
Dobby shrunk back. "Harry Potter must promise not to go to Hogwarts."
"No," Harry said flatly. "I'd rather see my friends than read their letters.
Dobby sagged. "Then you leave Dobby no choice." Before Harry could stop him, he flung open the door and sprinted down the stairs.
Harry felt sick to his stomach. "Oh bugger me," he swore, and tore off after the elf.
That...didn't end well.
Armed with a letter of reprimand from the Improper Use of Magic Office, and half crazed by the loss of the biggest business deal of his life, Vernon repeated the grand family tradition of going completely insane. He installed seven different locks on Harry's door, including two deadbolts and a chain, while the windows were barred. He put a cat flap in the door to stick food through, but only after making sure there wasn't any possibility that Harry's shoulders could fit through the hole. By the next evening, Dudley's second bedroom was a prison cell.
Harry waited for the snores to fill the house and scrambled for the loose floorboards. It had been so hard making sure they didn't suspect...cellphone in hand, Harry started texting frantically. Vernon had promised never to send him back to Hogwarts. He couldn't let that happen. Someone needed to tell Dumbledore or McGonagall or Hagrid, bloody hell he'd take Snape's help at this point. But who to ask, Nanoha or Fate?
Harry briefly remembered that Nanoha was famous for nearly blowing up three Obliviators after they chased a muggle man who wasn't really a muggle. She was scary enough that he'd believe it, too. She'd probably blow the wall off the house or something and get them into even more trouble. He sent the message to Fate.
When the little icon flashed that the message had been sent, he collapsed on his bed. Soon, someone sensible and level headed would take the bars off his windows and let him go to Hogwarts. Uncle Vernon would probably rant and scream and throw things, but it would be worth it.
Fate's eye twitched as she read the text message.
Help my family's gone nuts because they think I did magic but I DIDN'T and now they've locked me up and put bars up and aren't going to send me to Hogwarts
"Mom?" she called sweetly. "Is the Arthra still in orbit?"
Harry woke up when Petunia's hand shoved a bit of toast and a glass of water through the flap. He stared morosely at a breakfast that was even more pathetic than normal, but cheered a bit that at least he didn't have any chores while he was locked up. Hey, when Uncle Vernon calmed down, he'd want Harry doing chores again. They'd have to let him out and go to Hogwarts!
Feeling absurdly light hearted, Harry got out his phone. Three new messages.
Fate: Don't worry. We'll take care of everything.
Nanoha: Fate told me. Try and survive the night. We'll get you out of there.
Fate: The team will be ready and we'll be there at eight. Make sure you're not near the door. Stay strong.
Harry's eyes flicked to the time. 7:59. Distantly he heard a familiar voice draw out the word "Divine."
Wait, now it read 8:00. "BUSTER!"
He didn't have time to think beyond that when the explosion shook the building.
"Secure the area!" an unfamiliar voice shouted. A woman, same accent as Fate.
"Yes ma'am," a chorus of gruff voices answered.
"What the bloody!" Vernon bellowed before his voice cut off with a gurgling noise.
"Ring bind." That was Raising Heart's voice. "Let's shoot it."
"Don't tempt me," Nanoha growled. Raising her voice she asked, "Where is Harry?"
"Potter?" Vernon sputtered. "What do you want with that freak?"
That was not the right answer. "I can be shot," Raising Heart offered again.
"Who are you people?" Petunia shrieked. "What are you doing here?"
"Vernon and Petunia Dursley," the woman announced formally. "You are under investigation for child endangerment, child abuse, willful negligence, and probably a few other things once our legal team has sorted this mess out. We are executing an emergency warrant for the extraction of the minor Harry James Potter to be placed in asylum."
"You're going to put the freak in the nuthouse?" Dudley asked. "You didn't need to blow up the door to do that. He's in my second bedroom."
"That would be the one with all the locks and the cat flap?" Fate snarled.
Harry realized with a start that Fate was just outside his door. He jumped up and stuck his head out the flap. "Fate!" he yelled. "I'm here."
Fate looked down. "Harry!" she yelled in relief. She turned towards the stairs. "Hostage located!" she yelled.
Harry wondered briefly why they weren't doing that telepathy thing when Fate winked at him. "A bit of a production for the muggles," she whispered. "Now Harry, get back would you?"
Harry suddenly realized Fate had Bardiche in hand. The black staff gleamed. "Load cartridge Haken form."
Harry launched himself to the back of the room. "Okay!" he called out.
Fate's scythe made short work of the door in a single diagonal slash. Half the door just fell to the floor and the other half swung loosely on the hinges. "Got your stuff?" she asked.
Harry shook his head. "It's locked up in my cupboard," he said. At her expression he added, "The cupboard under the stairs."
"Right," Fate said darkly. "Is there anything in this room that belongs to you?"
"Hedwig," Harry said quickly. "And that phone Nanoha got me."
"You had a what?" Vernon bellowed from downstairs. "I'll flay you alive for this, boy!"
Harry shivered. "I really thought you were going to contact someone at Hogwarts," he said. "All this, they'll be impossible to live with after all this!"
"Then it's a good thing you won't be living with them," Fate said calmly.
Harry blinked. "What?"
Fate smiled a bit sadly. "For now we're taking you to Mom's place. Come on, we'll figure the rest out there."
Harry picked up Hedwig's cage and followed Fate down the stairs. The sight he saw became one he'd cherish forever (especially after finding out that the TSAB kept recordings of all official actions). Petunia's pristine house was a wreck, with a great big crater where the door used to be and a faint scent of ozone filled the air. The hallway beyond the door was lightly scorched and a glance at the kitchen told him that Nanoha had at the very least blown up the refrigerator. The house was filled with uniformed men and women carrying blue and gold staves that made him wonder if they were from Ravenclaw for the second or so it took for him to realize that had been a dumb thought.
The Dursleys themselves were no better off. Vernon was held in place with glowing pink rings while Nanoha held Raising Heart threateningly at his face, which had gone red with blood and rage. Petunia was bone-white and rigid, mouth hanging open and looking like she had fainted but forgotten to fall down. Dudley was just standing off to the side, blinking stupidly and looking like he wanted to ask about breakfast.
The tall, green-haired woman he assumed was in charge smiled at him. "You must be Harry," she said kindly. "I'm Admiral Lindy Harlaown, Fate's mom." Vernon made an ugly sound when Lindy called herself an admiral, but all that earned was Raising Heart getting a centimeter closer to his face. Lindy's tone turned professional with shocking suddenness. "Now, get your things together if you please. We can't stay here long."
Harry had no doubt as to that. The neighbors would be calling for police any moment. He spotted Arf near the cupboard trying to get it open – Nanoha's buster had melted the lock and hinges. In the end Arf simply ripped the door away, filling Harry with a deep satisfaction that his old prison couldn't hold anything anymore. They quickly emptied the cupboard of everything, still packed up from when he first arrived. Despite the convenience, it only made Nanoha put her device closer to Vernon. If he wasn't careful he'd lose an eye to one of the bident's tongs.
"Admiral," Arf said softly. "Look at this."
Lindy walked over and inhaled sharply at the old bed in the cupboard. She looked at the door and saw how the lock was set, and saw on the inside an old faded crayon scrawl. "Harry's Room."
Lindy straightened and gave Vernon Dursley as dark a look as she had offered Prescia Testarossa. "It is with great sadness that I must inform you that you are only the second worst excuse for a guardian I have ever known," she said softly. "Harry, is that everything?"
Harry knew that none of the Dursleys could have conceived of opening his trunk of freakishness and only checked his wand and broomstick. He pocketed the former. "Yes ma'am," he said. "I mean, yes, Admiral. Aye?"
Lindy smiled. "Ma'am was fine," she said. She raised her voice and announced, "Hostage secure. Everyone to designated departure coordinates. Miss Takamachi, you may release him."
Nanoha dropped her staff and the rings holding Vernon vanished. The man collapsed to the ground and rolled a bit.
Everyone clustered into three groups. Harry found himself surrounded by Lindy, Arf, Fate, and Nanoha. White magic circles formed under all three groups.
Vernon got to his feet with a roar and lunged for Harry just as the world vanished in a rainbow of light.
Harry looked around, stunned, at the strange metal room he was suddenly in. Lindy walked off issuing orders that sounded really important while most of the soldiers just chuckled and chatted about the "easy mission" and "political shit storm" coming their way.
Nanoha and Fate stayed beside Harry, switching their devices to standby. "Welcome aboard the Arthra, Harry," Nanoha said.
Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, poking away at three instruments on his desk that were giving the most bizarre readings.
THIS one measured the blood wards erected by Lily Potter in her dying moments. It was spinning along as it had most of its existence, only slowing over the year Harry spent at Hogwarts and shrieking only once, the day with the Stone.
THIS one was tied to a ward Dumbledore created at Privet Drive that measured active magical energy. It was shrieking like a banshee, which would only be possible if two wizards were dueling at a level Dumbledore had only reached in his fights with the various Dark Lords of his life or if an entire platoon of hitwizards and aurors had been deployed. Or Death Eaters or some other group, but the blood wards were still working.
And THIS one was an ancient device that headmasters had used for centuries, a relay point in the Trace used to monitor underage magic. It was utterly silent, save for one muggleborn casting a Lumos spell. He'd be getting a warning shortly. Not a problem worth thinking on at the moment.
So, what this meant was that someone, who was not allied with or working for Voldemort, had arrived at Privet Drive and was throwing around enough magic to explode the house but without using anything that the Trace recognized as a spell.
And that just didn't make sense.
Drawing himself up, Albus decided a quick visit was in order. He walked over to his fireplace and threw a bit of powder at it. "Arabella Figg!" he called and the flames turned green.
In Little Whinging, Dumbledore walked out of a fireplace only to be beaten over the head by an irate squib. "You took your sweet time!" Figg shrieked. "Explosions and soldiers apparating all over the place and talk of hostages and the muggles are calling the police for sure!"
Dumbledore dearly wanted to get a clearer explanation but the urgency in the woman's voice and what little he understood was enough that he knew he had to act immediately. He rushed from the house, shouting to Figg to owl the aurors immediately. They'd need to call in obliviators to fix this mess already, so Dumbledore took no care in hiding his wand of his magic. He arrived just in time to see Harry vanish in a rainbow of colors, leaving only a familiar magical circle.
Dumbledore exhaled. The Time-Space Administration Bureau had taken the Boy Who Lived. The Daily Prophet was going to explode. He could only hope that Trent Lacrosse or Nanoha Takamachi or whoever was behind this could give them answers.
For now, Vernon Dursley was yelling obscenities at him and there were sirens in the distance. This was going to be...unpleasant.