ataraxion | 001. Harry Potter and the Network Introduction

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001. Harry Potter and the Network Introduction

[The video feed shows a young man in his late teens or early twenties. He's not nervous, but out of habit he runs a hand through the messy black fringe of his hair before speaking.]

Hullo, I'm Harry. From what I've seen the usual thing to do here is to ask if there's a way home or if there are others from home here. If you're here, say hi, and if you're not here -- well, I guess you won't speak up then?

I'm not very good at staying still, so if there's something genuinely useful I could be doing, let me know? I'm not exactly 'space skilled', but I'm a quick study and I've seen a bit of Space: 1999.

[Yes, he wants to go home, but the need to return isn't as desperate as it would've been a few months ago. Harry is almost relieved to admit that the war is over and his part has been played.

Still, being pulled into space has left him feeling wrong-footed rather than angry.]

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[Remus spends quite a few minutes simply looking at the video, playing it over and over. James' son, yes, he remembers Sirius telling him that. The fact was rather lost between James dies and Peter betrays us, but he can remember distantly enough. And this must be James' son; it's either James' son or some sort of doppelgänger.

Only how do you say that? How do you even check? Hullo, sorry to interrupt, was your father's name James? Jamie Potter? Wizard?

Eventually he decides on a simple opening. Easy. Smooth. Yeah.]

There's-- ah-- there's quite a bit to do, actually, but I don't know if-- I mean, not to doubt your skills, but it's for the more scientifically inclined than the magi-- well-- I mean--

Sorry, you are Harry Potter, aren't you?

[ oH MY GOD WHAT DID YOU JUST- ]

[He does and doesn't want to deal with this particular sort of potential madness, but Harry nods in agreement. Hiding won't improve his situation any.]

I am and, well, I'm not all that good at science.

Right. Nor am I.

[Oh, god, James' son thinks he an idiot. Fantastic. Remus sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, glancing away at nothing. Right. Better impression: go.]

No one told me you looked so much like James, is the thing. I'm-- my name is Remus Lupin. I believe we know each other when I'm far older.

[Give him a few more years and he'll look like his own man. Then again, in a few more years, he'll have outlived his father.]

We do. It's, umm, it is right to say that it's good to see you? It is for me, but I'm not too sure how it is for you.

Well, it certainly can't hurt. It's not quite true for me, but it's a pleasure to meet you, at least. I didn't even know your name, to be honest.

[A beat. Privately:]

Ah-- fair warning. Lily-- I mean, your mother-- she's here as well.

Can I ask how old you all are?

[He needs to know how much to keep quiet about.]

Lily and I are sixteen, and Sirius is-- oh, I think he's turned eighteen by now, but he was seventeen when he came here, at least.

[A beat. He adds:]

Sirius and I know about the future, you know. Lily doesn't, but-- she ought to be told.

Merlin, you're so young.

[Harry speaks without thinking and looks briefly contrite.]

Sorry, I just, well, I mean, not that I expected this, but I never thought I'd be older.

Yes, well.

[He pulls a little face.]

At least you didn't meet me when I was fifteen. Are you-- how old are you, then? Twenty?

I was a right berk at fifteen.

[...and in the middle of what was becoming another war.]

Not yet twenty, but I'll be there soon enough.

[He snorts at that.]

Yes, well, at least you acknowledge it. Sirius still won't-- but then again, he never does. I, of course, am not-- but then not everyone can be like me.

[It occurs to him that he doesn't know this man, not really-- but he looks so similar to James that it's hard not to joke around with him.]

It is a great and noble skill.

[Harry's smile is honest and not as sure as it could be, but he's making an effort to blend in. He's always been good at adjusting to paradigm shifts.]

And rare, obviously.

[He smiles for a few seconds.]

Are you all right? This isn't precisely easy to adjust to.

I've been better, but I've been worse.

I do want to know about the rest of the people here. Are they muggles? Can we safely do magic?

It depends on how you define muggle. Nobody has magic like we do-- but there are some that have their own sorts, or have other types of abilities. In any case, yes, we can; it's not a secret that there are wizards here.

That's a relief.

What else should I know?

[Harry seems comfortable, possibly even experienced, at asking for status reports.]

There are creatures here-- obviously werewolves, but vampires as well. People with powers that are like and unlike our own.

There are also dangers: wild animals, predators, and-- well. A mysterious person or persons that seems to have only harm in our mind.

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

[Well, at least he knows how to deal with all that.]

[He gives a strained sort of smile.]

Is it that bad, then? Things are getting dangerous, and I know they do get worse, but-- it seems unbelievable, really. Then again, I suppose anyone who lived during pre-war times never imagines that they'll be caught up in such things.

It's over, actually. Really, truly done with.

What-- what, really?

Riddle is truly dead. The Death Eaters are either dead or in prison awaiting trial.

And Vo-- ah, Voldemort?

Oh, sorry, Riddle was his real name.

[He doesn't get to keep the name he chose for himself.]

screams softly oh my lord

[ NOT HERE. ]

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