Author has written 41 stories for Harry Potter, Quantum Leap, Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, DC Superheroes, Young Justice, Ironman, Bewitched, Freakazoid, Munsters, and Monty Python.
According to my stats, an amazing number of people have been looking at this, so maybe I ought to put something profound here:
- But then I realized that I don't really have that much to say that's all that profound...
Progress continues on Chapter 22 of Technomage. The spin up to the Triwizard. Harry arrives at Hogwarts for his 4th year, forewarned of the impending tournament and the likelihood that he will be taking part.
His first act is to approach the Headmaster to warn him of the possibility.
Dumbledore is, of course, not worried. After all, he's going to protect the Goblet of Fire with an age line.
Better writers than I have pointed a few hundred ways to get around an age line, so I'm not going to bother.
Harry will be enrolled in the Triwizard. He will not be pleased.
Enter Tony Stark with every magical lawyer he can afford to hire (which is to say, all of them.)
"Now, let me get this straight, Dumbledore," Stark snarled. "I had to sign off on a permission slip so that my son could go to a village a mile down the road to buy candy, but he's part of a tournament where death and dismemberment are common occurrences because a piece of paper with his name written on it was ejected from a flaming vase, and I have no say in the matter?"
The negotiations will end with Harry being allowed to bring his armor on the tasks. Of course the Judges of the Triwizard have no idea what they've agreed to, envisioning the boy stupidly showing up wearing plate mail and a battle helm pushed on him by his stupid muggle father.
Chapter 22 will end with Harry stepping into the Quidditch Stadium to face the Horntail. (not exactly a cliffie, but close.)
This brings me to the tasks. With the exception of the first, the tasks of the Triwizard were snooze fests for the audience, which is why I'm only keeping the first and coming up with original tasks for the 2nd and 3rd.
- I also don't like the idea that the 3rd is the only one that really counts
Status of my current works:
Harry Potter and the Invincible Technomage: Chapter 22: About 7k words, aiming at 10k.
Harry Potter and the Distaff Side: Chapter 17: 4k words aiming at about 8K
A scene from a story I playing with when I can't get the words to flow on my current focus; Working title: Doesn't have one yet... Something spy-ish
"Good evening, Mr. Potter," the headmaster said when the boy and his head of house entered his office.
"Headmaster," Harry said respectfully as he took the chair Dumbledore gestured to.
"Thank you for coming at this late hour," the old man said with a wide smile and twinkling eyes, "I know that this has been a long day for you, but there are some details of your enrollment that need to be covered."
"I'll help as much as I can, Headmaster," Harry said, "but it was my understanding that I was enrolled into Hogwarts not long after I was born, and that the fees for my time here were paid in advance at that time. What specifically are you asking about?"
"Oh, you were, and your tuition has indeed been paid," Dumbledore confirmed. "My question is about just where you've been the past decade."
"With my guardians," Harry explained.
"And how is it you came not to be with the Dursley family?" Dumbledore pressed.
"Who?" the boy asked.
"Your mother's sister, Petunia, and her husband, Vernon," Dumbledore explained. "You were left in their care after your parents died."
"I was?" Harry asked. "That's interesting, my guardians did a quite thorough search and there was no mention of a change of custody for me after my birth parents were killed in any governmental records for either the Magical or Muggle worlds until they claimed me as their own."
"I placed you with the Dursley family myself," Dumbledore said. "The anonymity of the placement was for your safety."
"Well," the boy shrugged, "I've been reasonably safe in the intervening years. None of the wizards who may or may not have been looking for me ever found me, including you."
"This is true," Dumbledore admitted, "but still I must speak with your guardians to ascertain their suitability…"
"No," the boy said.
"No," Harry confirmed. "My guardians treasure their… privacy."
"We need a point of contact for you, Mr. Potter," his new head of house pointed out.
The boy considered that for a moment before nodding. "I will write them and ask for a method of contact for you."
"Harry," Dumbledore said, "I'm afraid that I must insist…"
"Headmaster," the all too mature young man said calmly, "if my attendance at Hogwarts requires that I violate my guardian's privacy without first communicating with them, I have yet to unpack, I can be out of the castle in fifteen minutes."
The Headmaster sat back suddenly in his chair as if he had been struck. "I hardly think…"
The boy shrugged again. "As I said, my guardians value their privacy."
The pair sat stock still, Albus focused his gaze on the boy's eyes, and Harry returning the gaze without speaking. It was almost as if the boy was challenging the old man to do his worst.
"I think," Harry's Head of House said after several seconds of silence, "that it might be best if Mr. Potter were to contact his guardians for their preferred contact information."
"Yes," Dumbledore agreed grudgingly. "Please write your letter… tonight please, Mr. Potter."
The portraits in the boy's common room reported that the child spent more than two hours writing his letter prior to heading to bed. Unfortunately, none of the animated paintings were positioned so as to be able to read the letter.
Albus carefully placed charms on the school's post owls to direct them to his office before delivering any letters the next day. He would know where the boy had been hidden, or know the reason why.
Unfortunately, a one of the boys in his dormitory had his own owl, and had graciously offered his personal owl to deliver the Potter boy's mail.
Albus swore for several moments when he discovered that his preparations had turned out to be pointless. He settled down to wait for the response to the boy's letter.
The letter arrived in a nondescript office on the third floor of an older office building in downtown Liverpool. The recipient never as much as batted an eye when an owl flew in through an open window to deliver an envelope.
The actual letter was immediately shredded, while the envelope was carefully thermal sealed in an off-brand plastic bag, before being mailed to a specific employee's office of the Romanian Embassy in London.
Upon receipt, the sealed package was placed in the diplomatic bag for immediate transport to Bucharest.
Once off the plane, the package was removed from the diplomatic bag and exchanged with a representative of the Polish intelligence services with a flawless brush pass.
Two hours later, the package was carefully placed in a trash can at a roadside park 25 kilometers to the north east of the city.
Exactly 12 minutes later, the Dead Drop was retrieved by an agent wearing the uniform of the local trash collection service.
The next morning the intended recipient found the package on his desk. He signaled his partner to join him as he opened the package.
"Already?" she asked.
"Young Harry is nothing if not punctual," he responded. Before opening the thermally sealed plastic bag, he confirmed the smudge on the front of the envelope that signaled that Harry had written the letter himself and that his cover had not been penetrated.
He then turned the bag over to look for the tic mark on the inside of the hinge of the envelope's flap that signaled that the first smudge had not been made under duress. Satisfied he slit open the bag and removed the envelope.
He flattened the envelope on his desk top before passing a rune covered rod over the paper, causing the envelope to unfold itself and the real message to appear. The Agent extracted the one time cypher pad assigned to this mission, selected the pad for the day and began the task of deciphering the message.
I have arrived and infiltrated the school. The 'sorting' ceremony was everything we were told to expect, though I had to argue with the 'Sorting Hat' to prevent it from placing me in their resident house of minions. Rather I was placed in the house of overlords, and am actively working to integrate into their social system.
As expected Headmaster Dumbledore demanded to know where I have been since you rescued me from that doorstep, and as per the plan, I told him nothing, citing your preference of privacy. He then attempted his next ploy of demanding contact information. I must admit to giving in to my annoyance at his approach. Rather than offering the contact information we agreed upon prior to my leaving, I made him wait, telling him that I needed to clear it with you.
I have no further news, and I await your response.
Affection to Mother. I miss you both.
"He remembered me," his partner murmured.
"Of course he did," he laughed. "I must report our success."
The agent gathered the package and his notes, as well as the finished letter and left the office to report to his Leader.
- For anyone who cares, I've also got an original piece or two over at fictionpress.com...