Disclaimer; I don't Harry Potter, nor do I own Raistlin Majere. If Weis, Hickman, and Rowling wanted to give them to me however, I would appreciate the gift.


By the middle of November Harry was getting sick and tired of everything that kept going wrong with his attempts to enchant the glasses for Blaise and himself. No matter what he tried it was as if the glasses refused to hold onto the spells. He had been careful to purchase simple clear lenses in a non magical frame so there would be no other enchantments to interfere but something just wasn't right. He only had one more method he was willing to try before he gave in and sought out Raistlin for help. How he was supposed to do that he didn't know since it had been almost a month since the link in his arcane mark went dead, but he would find a way somehow.

He tried casting the spell on the glasses, it only lasted the usual amount of time. Casting it repeatedly until he grew exhausted only resulted in the glasses becoming magically charged like a capacitor even after the spell wore off. He tried visualizing the glasses like an onion, placing the spell within each layer and overlapping it nearly a hundred times, and only succeeded in making the enchantment hold for a few hours. He just didn't understand what went wrong.

The spell to read magical text was the first thing every apprentice learned, the most basic of cantrips. It was essential to the learning process so they could gather other spells for their own spell books. Everything he knew about this system of magic said that enchanting a pair of reading glasses to work with that spell said even the weakest of wizards should have been able to do it in a day or perhaps two on the outside. He'd been trying and failing for two weeks.

The last approach he was going to try was something he vaguely knew about from the muggle world. While he didn't know the specifics, Harry knew that computers had some sort of underlying intelligent bits that were needed before you could use the programs. Perhaps if he created some form of magical computer thing and then laid the enchantments on top of it they would hold. After asking Hermione for some information, an act he later regretted as she went on and on talking, Harry got a very vague idea of how computer logic stuff worked. The chips did the thinking, they were made from silicon and some other things and mainly routed the different pieces around wherever they needed to go. Some research in the library revealed that the emeralds he had bought in case he learned some of the higher level spells were beryllium, aluminum, and silicon that would resonate well with most magics.

Harry put small chips of emerald in the corners of the frames and set to work again. He saturated the gems with magic first, then began with memory and intelligence enhancing spells. Thanks to the text from the library, he had a pretty good idea of the crystal structure inside the stone and used that to enhance his spell casting. The intelligence spells were laid along the hexagonal grid in one direction while the memory spells worked at right angles, weaving in and out of the intelligence grid for a strong network of magic threads. It was like a net holding back all the magic he had charged the item with. After determining that the spells were holding over the course of a few days, Harry threaded the magic reading spell at an angle to the two previous layers. He wove it through the crystals, through the individual strands of the net, and tucked either end into the reservoir of magic so it would be fueled to last for a very long time.

He tested them by putting the glasses on and tapping them with his wand to activate them. The spell came into life with no hesitation and Harry had no problem reading the book of cantrips that Raistlin had given him at the end of the previous year. By all indications it worked exactly like he had planned, though he could not for the life of him figure out why it had taken him five days of work instead of the one he knew it should have.

With that done, Harry sat down to chart out what spells he would allow Blaise to learn. She was an ally for now, though it was a parasitic relationship, and he had agreed to teach her some of what he knew. Most of the cantrips looked safe but he decided he would not allow her to learn any of the necromancy spells or the more dangerous area of effect spells. He also decided not to give her anything above the second improvement from the base cantrips. He would provide her the materials to learn to light candles, wreath her hands in flames, or control a small fireball but not the next evolution to the exploding fireballs. If she was smart enough to work out the rules of magic on her own and build her own versions, so be it but he was not going to give her any more weapons than she already had. He needed to be able to kill and slaughter while unarmed, she did not. Assuming she ever decided to take the Test and dedicate her life to magic, she could be given access to them then.


Settling in for breakfast on the third Monday in November, Harry passed Blaise the completed glasses and book of cantrips to study. He quietly explained about the need to create her own book and the spell on the glasses but mentioned the rest was largely up to her. Across from them Ron and Ginny were discussing strategies for the upcoming Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match. Harry listened with a bit of interest, just because he couldn't play didn't mean he didn't enjoy the sport, but they were interrupted when a tall man in an expensive suit entered the hall.

Professor Dumbledore stood at the head table and addressed the visitor, "Is there something you need sir?"

"Yes, my name is Dennis Haskell from Locke, Stock, Hook, and Cook Law Firm," The man explained. "I am here to discuss some business with one Harry James Potter, may I meet with him briefly?"

"Since Mr. Potter is a minor his Head of House will have to sit in on the meeting but otherwise I don't suppose there is a problem so long as he is present for his classes" Dumbledore looked to Professor McGonagall. "Would you prefer to borrow my office or use your own?"

"We will use mine, I'm sure you have a busy morning," McGonagall stood and walked down the aisle between the tables. "Come Mr. Potter, Mr. Haskell, we will continue in my office."

The solicitor nodded and followed without question while Harry was still trying to figure out what was going on. Seeing his friends questioning looks Harry just shrugged to them and joined in the trek to the office. Once there McGonagall offered tea, coffee, or juice to Mr. Haskell and then got down to business.

"Now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries, I must ask about your business with Mr. Potter. Is there some kind of trouble the school should be concerned about?" She enquired.

"Oh no, it's nothing like that," He assured them, which allowed Harry to relax a bit. "If it weren't for the odd circumstances surrounding it, our business would have been so routine that we'd normally do it by mail. A long while back when our firm was still in it's infancy, we had a client file a Last Will and Testament with us and I am here to execute it as agreed."

"Ah, so I'm the long lost heir of someone then?" Harry asked.

"Not exactly," Haskell opened his briefcase and reached inside for a small parcel which he then unshrunk. "The unusual thing about this Will was that you were mentioned by name and we were given a date to execute it, today."

Harry looked to the wrapped package. It bore a label that read "Harry James Potter, Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland."

"How is that possible? How long ago did this happen?" McGonagall asked, stunned.

"This particular estate has been in our files since 1538. The client, who is only listed by the name Majere, insisted that we deliver two books that he wrote in an unknown language a letter in a different unknown script, and a key to a Gringotts vault. He specified that they were to pay off a debt, though he did not indicate what was owed or when it was incurred."

Harry didn't know whether to smile or frown. On one hand at least now he knew why his mark wasn't responding, on the other it was likely the books were lists of more things for him to study and work to be done. "Thank you Mr. Haskell, is there any paperwork you need me to sign?"

"Just this form to say you've taken possession of the items," He passed Harry a piece of parchment which he promptly signed. "I don't suppose you can shed some light on this mystery? This contract has been the office mystery for centuries and has had everyone in an uproar this past year when it became obvious that you would be the one to receive it."

Harry resisted the urge to smirk. "As to what exactly the letter and books contain, I can only guess until I've had a chance to study them. The debt I do know about however. Last June a man came to me with no money, food, or place to live. I ended up spending several thousand galleons on rare materials and supplies for some of his magical experiments. Perhaps this man Majere was a seer who decided to pay his descendant's debts."


A cheery fire blazed in the hearth as Albus Dumbledore sat quietly in his chair. He stared into the flames for quite some time before he turned to the room's other occupant. "I can't explain it Severus. It's as if I've lived two lives and I cannot prove which of them was real. I feel certain that I've known Harry's teacher for literally my entire life and owe him a tremendous debt, but yet I never wrote anything about him down in my journals and certain events in my pensieve do not match my own recollection."

"Did he bewitch your mind?" Snape asked. "A skilled legilimens or occlumens can occasionally produce a fake memory."

"No," Albus frowned thoughtfully. "If that was the case I would have to doubt the memories in my pensieve. I have so many memories about this man, know him so completely, that they seem incontrovertible. Yet there are still a few clues here and there that convince me something is just not right."

"Like what, can you think of something specific?"

"I was talking to myself in my office last week, trying to figure it all out, when I asked the portraits in my office what they thought about the man," Dumbledore explained. "You can imagine my surprise when they told me they would never allow necromancy and summoning to be taught at Hogwarts. Apparently even my memories of our meeting do not match up with theirs. More troubling by far is something one of the older portraits told me, that he remembered the man from well over six hundred years ago trying to recruit only the best young wizards away to study at another school."

"Impossible," Severus exclaimed. "No one except Flamel could have lived that long."


In the last week of November, Harry was startled out of his studies by an alarm going off. Once he determined it was not just the proximity alarm on his trapdoor being set off again, Harry jumped up and rushed past his skeleton guard. He summoned the snitch and made his way through the other traps on his way back to the first chamber under the long fall. Already he could hear the terrified squeaks and squeals of the mice he had been breeding for several months.

He arrived just in time to see the first cracks break all the way through the rune covered eggs he was incubating. Comically large toads struggled to escape their bindings as the eggs cracked beneath them. One of the shells fell away completely and Harry could hear an angry hiss before the toad died with one last spasm. Within moments the nineteen other eggs lay in pieces on the table and all croaking had ceased.

Harry grabbed a handful of squirming baby mice and walked over to the table to see his latest achievement. He dropped the mice one by one as he smiled and hissed, "At last my children, Royalty has returned to Hogwarts and soon the Heir of Slytherin will see why he should not attempt to use us so."


A/N; I know, it's a short chapter but hey, at least it's something new in this story. If you still haven't guessed what Harry's project was... THere's no hope for you, just give up.