It took Harry a few days of contemplation, to get over the shock that had been that revelation. His emotions had finally settled, though, and he'd started subconsciously suppressing them again. The assault he'd experienced, had just been another reason to bottle the emotions. He was more aware of them, now, however, and with the hat's gentle help, he was slowly starting to feel them again, little-by-little.
Harry found that he could smile more sincerely. He liked laughing, now, where before, it was more of an emulation. He knew he felt something, and knew what was appropriate, when something funny happened, but feeling it, was different.
Strangely, he also liked being angry. It was a powerful emotion. It allowed him to suppress the other emotions more easily. The hat saw his mind going through these ideas and warned him that people that tended to do that, ended up relying on anger, when dealing with the driving emotion would be far more appropriate, and cause less issues, in the long run.
Harry knew the hat was right, but on occasion, he still enjoyed spending his anger. He usually did that at the lake, where he used spells to attack the water, in rapid succession as he vented years of pent-up emotions. When he did this, he would wonder about the fate of the Dursleys. Should he be worried? Was it right to be vengeful? Was it okay, that he hoped they experienced the same as they put him through? The hat never had an answer for him, because those were decisions he needed to figure out for himself. The hat gave him different perspectives. He'd say that 'some people might'… followed by different opinions.
Harry realised that this was actually to help him come to his own conclusions. He'd feel a bit of joy when pain was mentioned, and then immediately feel bad, because he wouldn't be able to hurt someone. He'd feel too guilty. He'd hear forgiveness, and then get angry, because they shouldn't get away with it. In the end, he settled on indifference. Not caring was easier, and he was very used to that. The hat also informed him that it wasn't wrong. It would be socially more acceptable, to act sorry, though. People that didn't care about the deaths of relatives, didn't look good in the public eye, if death was even what was going to follow.
Still, indifference was simpler, and he'd been acting indifferent for a long time, usually when in connection to his own treatment, however.
After Harry had settled most of his emotions, the rest of the school had shown up again, and classes started again. Harry liked catching up with Hermione, though. He'd remembered to get her a gift, too, even if it was a little late. He'd purchased himself a stack of legal pad, and ballpoint pens, and he'd gotten her the same, but she also had a book of spells on common household magic. Things that weren't taught in Hogwarts, because they were so common, and magical households tended to teach their own children these charms and spells. Things like dishes cleaning themselves, or magical timers for when to check on food. Everyday things, really. Still, Hermione had beamed at him, and hugged him, for the thoughtful gift.
After that, things settled into a routine, again. Hermione still brought up the third floor, and Harry still refused to go there. He'd explored around the third floor, and he'd noticed a very strange, large open space, like there were meant to be two floors, on the one floor, because of the space between the second and fourth floors. He'd shrugged and written it off as a mystery likely connected to the magical world. He'd found other such spaces, after all.
Neville was also a nice bloke, but he seemed a little on the sad side, after his holiday. Harry had no idea what that was about, but spent a little time just chatting to him. Hermione and Neville seemed to have connected after the first train ride, and it seemed those two had decided to stick together, and Hermione usually pulled either Neville, or himself, to go join the other, so that they could hang out, as a group.
Harry knew why, for this one, though. She liked having friends. Through conversation and observation, he knew she was new to the concept of friends, much like himself. She'd obviously picked up that he was new to it too, if the book was anything to go by. Likely, her effort in making them all spend time together, was to help them all, considering Neville was also on the shy side. So, a group of lonely outcasts, formed together, to become something else.
Hermione also had a bit of an obsessive side, Harry realised. She'd get focussed on something, and simply would not let it go. First the third floor, and then her suspicions about who was trying to get in. They all suspected the Philosopher's stone was involved, but they'd discussed that in private, and didn't say it out loud.
Then there was the way she constantly watched Harry. When he looked away, and came up with information, she'd frown, and narrow her eyes. Still, she seemed to be restraining herself, considering he had saved her life. He suspected that she'd try and speak to him about it someday soon, when she built up the courage, and had a plan for how to bring it up delicately.
Snape's classes were still a chore for Harry, even though he'd quickly gotten used to the professor's glares, and he'd also started performing quite well. He'd decided to let Hermione and Neville team up, because Hermione was quite intelligent, and helped Neville keep organized, when a glare from the professor usually stalled the boy and made him forget his place.
Harry had been open, and Draco had decided to try and be friendly, joining him, since he didn't have his mudblood and blood traitor friends around, during potions. Harry kept calm, and stayed focussed on the work, though, replying evenly, and carefully, when he spoke to the Malfoy heir. He still didn't want to make enemies, and he'd known enough people like Draco, to know that one misunderstanding could lead to a lot of unhappiness, in the long run.
Still, they weren't friends, as much as friendly lab-partners. Draco seemed to accept that and was actually quite impressed with Harry's brewing skills. Snape only ever awarded Draco points, though. Fortunately, he couldn't very well deduct points from Harry, when he awarded Draco, so that seemed to work like a sort of buffer.
The professor, for his part, had realised that the Potter brat wasn't a complete imbecile. Draco was less skilled in the art than Potter, even. He'd never admit it, though, because he still saw only the boy's father, when he looked at him. Still, it seemed this class wasn't a complete loss, and Harry very seldom did anything that grated on the professor's nerves, which seemed to keep things reasonably neutral.
Defence was still a bust, and Harry didn't even pretend to listen to the teacher, anymore, preferring to go over the book, and making notes, based on that.
III-III
He still went to see Madam Pomphrey, once a week, too. She'd been gentle in her prompting of how his days went and asking about what he was working on most recently. She was a little shocked that he'd completed his internal model of himself, and that he'd already confirmed that it was accurate.
"How do you know, though?" she'd asked.
"Well, it has to do with my ability to make certain things invisible, for myself." Harry said. "I want to see a muscle move, and the skin and fat disappear, so that I can see it. If I use my hand to push at my actual muscle, the model does the same, but in ways that I didn't expect. It pulls in more than one location at times, things that I don't know to accommodate for, so I know that it's real. I also recently included tension measuring, which shows the different parts light up, depending on the amount of tension it can take."
Harry stood up, and sat on the floor, before he split his legs apart. "I don't need to know how to split, but I've been doing this, and keeping an eye on the tendons, so that I can tell how far it can go, without accidentally doing damage. It's all just in an attempt to get to know my body. What it can do, and how I'm able to influence it."
"To what end, though?" Madam Pomphrey asked, as Harry stood up, again. "Not that I don't applaud your efforts, of course." she added. The boy could likely become a very successful healer, with his knowledge of the body, and with what he was learning, simply through experimentation.
"Well, I was considering artificially increasing my own abilities, through magic, but because it can cause a lot of potential issues, I have to go very slowly, to know what my body can take." Harry said. "Does increasing the strength of one muscle put a lot of strain on my ligaments, or the cartilage between my bones? Does artificially increasing my strength also affect my stamina? How long can I do so, without the muscles suffering damage, and if it does, is the damage beneficial in the long run, by promoting growth? What about counter-effects, like the body needing to compensate in one form or another?
"I need a lot more information, before I can even consider enhancing myself in the long term, or to setup a single system, that takes all of those things into consideration, while protecting my body. I also have no idea how much magic such an overall change would cost me. Can I support longer periods, if I have more magic, or do I need to consider bursts of enhancement, as the occasion demands? Can I do a partial enhancement, or set it up so that I can change the amount of power I feed it, to change the amount of change it makes? That's a lot of information, that will take a while to acquire and play with." Harry finished.
Madam Pomphrey didn't even know where to begin on that one. Still, she had one question. "Can internal magic be used for such a thing?" she asked.
"I've successfully enhanced my legs, one time." Harry said. "It was only a small change and in a temporary configuration, and I didn't do something stupid like jump up to the ceiling, so that I can fall and break my neck." he added quickly, to ensure to the woman that he was, as had been repeatedly pointed out to him, careful about it.
She nodded, accepting that. "Okay, so, how did you affect the change, and how did the effect manifest?" she asked.
"I started by grouping all the muscles in my legs into a single connection. I did that by going through them, and selecting every muscle group, and then directing them to the one function. I set up the function, by first lifting something light, and measuring the force needed, and monitoring how the muscle reacted. Then something heavier, and doing the same, while taking that data as my starting point. By doing so, my interface understood my intent was to affect that force.
"Then, I applied a feed, from my magic, and changed the projected force, a few times, stronger and weaker, with the projected force changing as I did so, until it understood the intent. This taught me two very important things. Magic doesn't care about the physical limitations of the muscles. It can weaken, or strengthen, as needed, depending on the amount of power used. There are limits to strengthening, but not necessarily to weakening, considering it stops at no strength, but more strength, has a potential upper limit of the imagination, and the amount of power available.
"After this was all covered, I applied that feed, into the muscle-grouping of my leg muscles. Doing so used power, while the muscles were in use. Potential power, versus used power, as it were. It doesn't drain me, unless I use more power than my physical body is capable of exerting on its own. Doing so, by timing distance covered over time, without the enhancement, and with it, yielded positive results in speed. Similarly lifting a weight that I normally couldn't was possible, with a similar drain in power.
"Unfortunately, the muscle wasn't the only thing affected." Harry continued. "My skin was bruised, and my ligaments had experienced a bit too much strain. Fortunately, nothing broken or that needed healing. Don't worry, I checked. The experiment was a success but will need more time to apply without damaging my body in other ways. For now, those features are locked away, for emergency use only."
The matron nodded her head, still taking all of that in. "Well, it seems that you are being careful, as you promised, and I thank you for that. I will not, however, stop reminding you to be careful, as it seems repeatedly reminding you is making you keep that in mind. As for the experiment, itself, I can tell you that there have been some studies into that sort of enhancement. There are potions that will achieve the same, for a short period of time, but it has the same negative side-effects you mentioned. Using another potion, to harden the body against damage, while increasing strength and agility, is not possible, due to the potions not being compatible.
"If you succeed in creating such a system, you might want to consider a potion as a solution to the limitations. Also, while I am loathe to admit it, there are potions and spells that can counteract the sorts of damage you are likely to accrue due to this sort of experimentation. I would ask, if you think you can allow it, that I join you, when you run your next experiment, so that I can monitor your body, and be able to render assistance, should your magical stores be pressed, and you find yourself incapable of helping yourself get to assistance."
She took a moment to look at him, making sure he was actually considering it. Then, she continued. "As for another use for this system of yours, I would suggest, since I am a healer, that you consider trying to use your power in healing yourself, using this model." she suggested. "Knowing, however, how you tend to… train, your intention?" she asked, wondering if she was using the right word.
"I use program." Harry said. "A suggestion from a friend." he added. Once again, the hat had suggested that one. Harry had really wondered where it had gotten these ideas, and it told him that they were terms for modern-day computing technology. Things he'd glimpsed in the minds of first years. They didn't necessarily understand what they'd heard, but with a thousand years of experience, the hat could put things together, easily enough.
The matron nodded. "Knowing how you program your intent into these functions, I also know that you would take one of two routes to program the idea. Either you would hurt yourself intentionally, with a cut, or maybe a bruise, and then forcing your interface to change it back to a non-hurt state, or you would use the interface to change yourself physically, and then changing yourself back, into a normal shape, thereby healing whatever you changed. Am I correct?" she asked.
"That's not a bad idea, actually." Harry said, nodding.
"In that case, once again, as your primary healer, I'd prefer to be with you for those experiments. You can even do them here, and I'll cordon you off, so that you have your privacy, with myself administering a small, temporary, painless wound, which I can easily fix, should your experiment fail." she said. That time, she'd said she'd prefer it, but she'd meant, that's what would happen, or else.
Harry could tell that it came from a place of concern and maybe a little curiosity, and he nodded in acceptance. "Shall we start now?" he asked.
"Right now?" she asked, taken aback.
"I don't sit around with an idea for days, before I start application." Harry said. "Application, in this case, is how I create my theories and then I build from them. To be fair, I do sometimes need to consider application, because without a starting point, it's like groping in the dark. I do have an idea of how to apply this one, though, based off of previous ideas."
"Can we discuss that, first?" she asked. "We are dealing with a human body here, and I am uniquely capable of considering your input and giving you alternate ideas, or to tell you where your reasoning is flawed."
Harry didn't need to consider it, this time. He nodded. He walked to the matron's desk, picked up an empty vial, and another, just like it, and walked to the centre of the room. He then sat down, and put one down, while he put his sleeve over the other, and breaking it on the floor. Then he uncovered the broken one and indicated the other.
"When I do transfiguration, I use an image of the desired change, and take a picture of it." Harry said, as he did just that. "I then overlay the image, over the item I'm changing and tell the magic to replicate the image, rather than the subject of the image. I have another method, with a targeting function, which works just as well, but it won't work for what we're considering. This is technically my first, and now unused method."
Harry overlay the image, as he'd said, and focussed on the broken vial. It seemed to liquify, before taking the shape Harry wanted it to have. Suddenly there were two identical vials again. He'd not usually use two, but he suspected that this would be the easiest way to explain his theory.
"Now, my mental body-image is a perfect replication of my body, but there are things that I can't take into consideration, like the individual make-up of every cell." Harry said. "What I propose, however, is essentially, making a copy of that image, as a semi-permanent representation of what my body should look like. One that doesn't change with my body, as the original does. If my theory is correct, and considering the results from my enhancement experiment, and how it only uses power to make a change beyond what is the current norm, I should be able to force my body to retake the same shape, as the copy.
"Unfortunately, there is one issue that I will need to work on for future iterations, which is the fact that the model moves with me, but if I lay still and target something specifically, I should be able to use only the power that is necessary to fix what you affect." Harry finished.
"And you just came up with that?" the healer asked.
"Well, like I said, there are a few things that came together for this." Harry admitted. "There is also the fact that transfiguration specifically uses a wand, and I intend to use only the system, connected to my health-model. Considering the results of the enhancement experiment, however, I'm almost certain it's going to be reasonably simple to apply the idea. Seeing results, might take a bit of work, however."
The healer was, frankly, excited, but she took a moment to consider what she knew of his system. So far, he'd done some remarkable things. He'd apparently not needed to open a book on occlumency, for his mind to start applying the principles. He'd been able to connect to some person, or thing, and send them power, when they needed it. He'd been able to change the physical limitations of his body and was still working on achieving something that had before been unachievable, in that.
Still, this seemed too easy, even though she also knew that he'd put a lot of effort into the system they were about to use. "Fine." she agreed. "But if I say stop, we stop, and I'll do a full-body scan before, and after, so that I have quantifiable evidence. This would be much simpler if I could see your interface, honestly."
"I think I can show it to you." Harry said, shocking her.
"Really?" she asked. "How?"
Harry shrugged, hid the hat's image, and pulled out his wand, before pointing it at the interface. "Lumos." he said.
Shocking the matron, the light fell on something that she couldn't see, before, but which was suddenly so real. A small part of her had thought that it was all in his head. She quickly went to sit next to Harry, where he was still on the ground, so that she could see it properly.
For her, it looked angled, and though she could see something on there, it was difficult to make out. "Can you change the angle, so that I can see better?" she asked.
Harry's free hand reached forward, and pushed the insubstantial thing away, so that she could see. For him, he just knew he could do it, even though it was the first time he was trying it. As for sharing it, that was something that had come to him, while he waited for the hat to recover. He knew it was there. Casting a spell at it had hit it, even if the magic had travelled to his brain. So, Lumos, a spell intended to shine light, should hit what he was pointing to, just like any other spell.
Madam Pomphrey looked at the display and saw a lot of things he'd mentioned. The top right had the time, as he'd said, with another number that made no sense to her, but likely had to with perceived time. She saw the undulating colourful bar, which she suspected was his representation of his magical reserves. He had been right in that it looked quite pretty. He had images for things she didn't know, one that looked like his wand, too. Was he modifying his wand, or experimenting with it?
She knew he had things that he wasn't sharing, so she ignored that. She looked at the image of Harry, seeing that the image sat, as he was sitting, and was looking to the side, as he watched her, while she looked at the interface, with his one hand holding the interface and the other one pointing the wand. The wand and interface weren't on the image, obviously, and the illustration was naked, but she couldn't see anything a boy should be ashamed of. It also didn't have hair. Harry hadn't told her, but it made sense that the image didn't need hair.
"This looks rather impressive." she said, as she watched the image look at where she knew the interface was, and then back at where she would be. The image was breathing, and it looked exactly like Harry, except for clothes and hair.
"What I would do, is this." Harry said, as the image duplicated next to itself, instantly, without any gesture for Harry. His wand moved a little, though, as he moved the copied image. "Now, this is just an image. A picture, if you will. A static copy. For the process to work, I intend to create a real copy of the model. That will take a few minutes and a bit of power. Then I need to set the intent that this is a sort of… backup, I suppose. That should be it. I then just impose that image, over the affected area, and make the image, and my body, accept the change."
"Can you turn the image around?" the woman asked. She wanted to see all of it. Well, she could skip certain parts, to save the boy from embarrassment. Harry didn't seem to worry about that, as the image rotated. She saw a few things she hadn't before. There were obvious signs of scars in a few places. Not big, but his back showed signs of having met the buckle of a belt, quite a bit. She knew those scars. She had seen them, before. These were more signs of abuse.
"I should probably not mention it, but those scars…" she said, trailing off.
"The image is correct." Harry said. "My uncle sometimes had a temper, and I was his favourite whipping boy. His only one, really. He never hit his own son."
The healer looked at the boy and saw a flash of anger there. Good. Things were changing it seemed. "Do you want me to take this to the headmaster?" she asked.
"Will he do anything?" Harry asked.
The woman frowned. "Why wouldn't he?" she asked.
"He knew where I was, all my life." Harry said. "He never visited, or stepped in."
The woman's frown deepened. "Harry, this is serious. You're talking about neglect and abuse. If you want, I can go over his head. I can get the DMLE involved, but I can't do that, without your permission. I gave you my word. I'm bound, but I want to make this right. You don't deserve this."
Harry considered it. So far, he hadn't gotten more information from the hat, but he knew something had been done. He also, kind of, knew that something would be happening to his relatives. He just wanted to forget them, now. "Leave it for now, if you don't mind." he said. "I give you permission to speak to the headmaster about it, though. Not my secrets, obviously, but you can talk to him about my home-life, and I ask that you tell me what he said about his plans for me, by the end of the school year, if you'd be so kind. I'd like to know, myself."
The woman's lips pressed together for a moment, before she nodded. "Very well." she said.
"So, seen enough?" Harry asked.
"Remove the skin-layer." the healer said, all business, now. Harry complied and ended up going through the whole body. She wanted to see everything. Organs, nerves, vessels, skeletal structure. Everything. By the end, she was nodding. "Very well done, young man. I dare say you are likely the most learned eleven-year-old, with regards to the human body, in this school, if not the country."
"Well, you did give me that book." Harry pointed out. "Anyone with a desire to understand things, could learn that much."
"No." the woman said. "What you have achieved here, with your interface, is unheard of. I don't know if even the muggles could do this, and I'm one of the few informed people, who knows that they have created marvels of technology. This interface, specifically with how it interacts with your mind and body, is a breakthrough that could change our world… That is, if you ever decided to teach anyone else how to use it."
"Couldn't you figure it out?" Harry asked.
The woman seemed to pout at that. "You have no idea how tempted I am. Unfortunately, my oath wouldn't allow me to even try. I think I know how you started this, and how you trained your mind, first, and how your magic followed, as you created what I suspect, is a direct form of communication with your personal magic. I even think I'd know how I would go about developing something like it, but I can't even try. Even if I wasn't your Healer, and even if I wasn't under oath, you claimed this as family magic. That makes it protected."
"So, you couldn't have made something like this, even if you thought of it, yourself?" Harry asked.
"No." the woman said. "Personal magic, claimed magic, means that while I know it's claimed, unless I had the idea before you told me, I cannot emulate you. The magic would know, through me, that I'm stealing. Magic doesn't like that sort of thing. It will refuse to do for me, what it's doing for you. Normally, I'd offer compensation, or something, so that I can purchase the right to emulate your idea, but you are also a minor, and that would make it so that I couldn't ethically get permission from you. Once again, I'd know that I'm technically stealing, so I can't."
"Wait, so I created it, and I'm not allowed to give it away?" Harry asked. "That's not fair. What if I want you to have it, because I know you'll not do bad things with it. You want to help people with it."
"Harry, I'm sorry, but…" the woman's eyes unfocussed, as something happened that neither of them had expected. "Um, Harry, did you do something?" she asked, as her eyes focussed up, and to the right.
"No." Harry said. "Why?" he asked. His smile, however, was already growing. "You're looking at the time, aren't you?" he asked.
"I am." she admitted. "Harry, did you just give me a copy of your claimed magic?"
"I… think so?" Harry said. "I mean, I guess I did, but I don't know how."
'I've got this one.' the hat's voice entered his mind. 'Answer, and I'll explain.'
Harry flicked the model of himself away, and then at the hat's icon, which reappeared. "Go." Harry said, aloud.
"What?" Madam Pomphrey asked.
"Oh… Hmm." Harry said, frowning. "Can I copy your connection to her? I think that should be possible."
'Why not?' the Hat replied. 'She's bound by oath, and her intent, now.'
"Harry?" Madam Pomphrey asked.
"My friend says that you can add him to your interface." Harry said. "Lumos, please? I can't see yours."
The healer, shocked as she was, used a finger, to tilt her interface, as Harry had, and, even though it was insubstantial, she was able to move it. A smile slowly grew on her face, as she pulled out her wand, and cast a lumos.
Harry looked between his interface, and hers, which had only the time, and somehow, the emotions he'd originally made, and held his fingers between the hat's image on his and pointed at a blank spot on hers. The intent wasn't difficult to follow. A simple link, like he'd been using to connect things, formed between the two, and suddenly, the hat's image was on her interface.
'Hold on, I need to change her image.' the hat said. 'It was just a copy of yours, but I can tell it's not active, so it makes sense, that it's hers. You just can't help but impress, can you?'
"I do try." Harry said, smirking.
"A hat?" the healer asked.
'Tap the image, Poppy.' a voice suddenly said in her head. Harry had heard it, too, for which he smiled.
"You don't need to touch it." Harry said. "Just, sort of think about it, and think of it as active. The hat's mouth should open, to show that you can talk to it."
"The hat?" Madam Pomphrey asked. Then she remembered the voice. "The sorting hat?!"
She'd succeeded in activating the connection, though, so the hat replied. 'Of course, me.' it said. 'Our benefactor here, had the interface on, at the sorting, already. Bright lad. I asked if I could use it, because I, as a magical artifact, with built-in security to protect his secrets, was capable of asking for it, and can't abuse it. You, on the other hand, seem to be the beneficiary of a grant.'
"Grant?" the healer asked, aloud. "Like, he granted me access, with limitations as per an agreement?"
'Exactly like that, yes.' the hat said. 'You heard him say it. What if I want you to have it, because I know you'll not do bad things with it. You want to help people with it.' He'd replayed Harry's own words in her head.
"But… he's a minor. He doesn't have the right!" she objected.
'Here's a secret you should already have figured out.' the hat said. 'The interface works on his intent. Sometimes, even automatically. And he was right, by the way. He didn't have a head of house claim his magic. He claimed it himself. A head of house could stop him from sharing it, but he doesn't have one, so he can do what he wants with it.'
"I've never heard of that, before." the woman said, stubbornly.
'When's the last time a child invented magic, that you know about?' the hat countered.
That stumped the healer. "So… as long as I use it for good, and keep it a secret, I can use it?" she asked.
'Exactly.' the hat said. 'And don't be surprised if the kid still does things faster than you. I'm literally in his head, sometimes, and he still thinks things through faster than me, and I'm a thousand years old!' the hat laughed.
"Could we stop talking like 'the kid' isn't here?" Harry asked. "I want to get to that test, already."
'Just go with it, Poppy.' the hat suggested. 'The sooner he succeeds or fails, the sooner I can get back to my book.'
"You read?" she asked, despite the absurdity of the situation.
'Christmas gift from Harry.' the hat said. 'He copied a series of mystery books for me. I'm hooked. I never knew I was missing out, just sitting there, year in and year out, gathering dust and being useless.'
"You're not useless." Harry said. "Apparently, you keep an eye on the headmaster." he added. Then he leaned towards the healer, and whispered in a stage whisper, "Not that he can tell us anything he knows."
'Which makes me pretty useless.' the hat added. Still there was mirth in his mental voice.
The healer looked at her interface, still in shock, looking between the hat, and then the time, and then Harry. "Are you sure?" she asked.
"I heard the mundane world has a saying, for doctors: First do no harm." Harry said. "I think it's an oath that they make, actually. Stick to that, and you can enjoy the interface." he said, shrugging.
"It's the hypocritic oath." Madam Pomphrey said, before she smiled at the boy. "Thank you. I promise, I will do wonderful things with this. I swear, you won't ever regret giving me access to this."
"Except when you bother the hat to check up on me." Harry said.
'I'm not your broken telephone, thank you very much.' the hat said. 'I'm busy with my books, anyway. If she wants to talk to you, she'll just have to come to you, or send an owl, like anyone else. And the chances that she'll use it for good, is definitely a given. The only problem I foresee, is when other healers start demanding her capabilities.'
Harry shrugged. "Make a new oath, for the use, and give it to them." he said. Madam Pomphrey stared at him, shocked. "I'm not against helping people. If healers can use this, and the government doesn't get their hands on it, to abuse it, I say go nuts."
'He's right, Poppy.' the hat said. 'If it can be guaranteed to not be abused, like only healers can be guaranteed, then why not let them? You'd likely have to start out documenting your processes, and working out new uses, like maybe using medical charms to feed information into the system, and then working with that to increase your capabilities, but it is entirely possible that you've just been handed the holy grail for advancing magical medical capabilities.'
"Rules." Harry said. "There will need to be new rules."
'Oh, I see.' the hat said, nodding. 'Seriously, just how damn quick is that brain of yours?!'
"Language!" the healer said, automatically. "What are you talking about?" she asked, looking at Harry.
"Well… I just had a thought…" Harry said. "Gryff, could you tell her? I'm not sure I know how to explain it."
'Immortality.' the hat said, simply. 'There, that wasn't all that hard, was it?'
"What?" the healer asked, shocked.
'If what Harry tries today succeeds, he can then use that process to reverse any damage that comes to his body.' the hat said. 'Anything that's bad for the body, could simply be reset, back to a better version. Make an impression of your body at your peak, and stay that way, forever.'
The healer's mind seemed to be blown. She'd not even considered that.
"I could likely take it a step further." Harry offered. It didn't help the healer. "Use the functionality of time, by having an automatic impression taken on a daily basis, and have your body renewed in your sleep, or when you take fatal damage. It's not fool-proof, though. If the brain is damaged, I suspect that the impression will vanish, along with your mind."
'That requires that someone knows how your magic works, and intentionally kills you in a specific way.' the hat countered. 'It's not fool-proof, like you said, but it is a massive advantage. Once your magical reserves have grown enough, you could likely undo pretty much all damage. Add in a bit of your enhancement magics, to automatically protect you, when in danger, and you could probably protect your brain, too.' Well, besides something like the killing curse, anyway.
"It's worth a ponder." Harry allowed, cheekily.
"How are you so calm?!" the matron demanded. "We're talking about things people would fight and die for! Dark Lords will rise and come for you!"
"Well, if they ever found out, sure." Harry said. "Just make it part of the rules, then. Simple. Also, been there, done that."
'Ha!' the hat laughed. 'I love this kid! Well said, Harry!'
"This isn't a laughing matter!" the woman exclaimed.
'I think, Poppy, that you're getting a little ahead of the game here.' the hat said, calmingly. 'Remember that we're just speculating at this point. If a person could transfigure themselves into immortality, I'm sure they'd have done that, before.'
"Exactly. Right now, that's not even in the plans." Harry agreed. "We're working on healing and learning something new. Plus, if I wanted immortality, I'd simply go to the third floor and steal that stone."
'Um, Harry, I don't think you wanted to say that out loud.' the hat said.
The healer looked at Harry with shock in her eyes.
"What?" Harry asked. "Hermione is obsessed with the third floor. She wouldn't stop digging until we figured out that the Philosopher's stone was being kept safe there. She thinks either Snape or Quirrell are after it. Logically, it should only be Quirrell, because he's new, and Snape's been here for years. I told her to drop it. I'm sure the headmaster has his reasons for bringing an artifact that would specifically attract negative attention to the school, to it."
'Well, that, or it's a trap, of course.' the hat repeated one of Harry's theories. After all, he'd not said it was that.
"That's the most likely reason, yes." Harry agreed. "Get the stone, but then hide it somewhere easy to miss, and protect a different location heavily. It's basic strategy."
The matron looked like she wanted to ask a few questions about that, her eyes narrowed. "Tell me that you two are messing with me?" she asked.
"No." Harry said. "The stone is here. Hagrid went to go fetch it from the vault that was broken into at Gringotts, the same day we were there."
'Tell her about your scar.' the hat suggested.
"Oh, right." Harry said. "My scar aches, whenever I look at Professor Quirrell for too long. I don't even look at him, anymore."
The matron's eyes went up to Harry's forehead, as her face lost some colour. "Resonance." she said, under her breath. "Have you told anyone about your scar, Harry?"
"Just Gryff." Harry said. "I try and avoid being known as a schizophrenic with phantom pains and delusions of fantasy interfaces, in public."
"Well, we know you're not delusional." the matron said, as she considered things. "I can't count out other mental disorders, yet." she joked.
'She has a sense of humour!' the hat exclaimed. 'Poppy, if I were a man, and nine-hundred and seventy years younger, you'd be just my type.'
The woman looked at her interface, and a small smile appeared on her face. "Flatterer." she accused.
"Can we do the test already?" Harry asked, as he walked over to a bed. He was going to start so long. He needed a bit of time for that, anyway.
'Give him a few minutes.' the hat said to Poppy. 'First off, I'm using legilimency to speak to you, as if you were wearing me, right now, so you just have to think about what you want to say. Secondly, I cannot divulge the reason why I act the way I do around Harry, because that's private, but I am acting like a friend, because he needs one that he can trust, and he's a great lad and I like him.'
'Everything you two told me is true?' she thought at the hat.
'Every word.' the hat said. 'There is some speculation, but they were thorough in their investigation, and Miss Granger is like a dog with a bone. She cannot help herself. The mystery drives her, and she wants to know everything.'
'So… Quirrell?' she asked.
'I know your suspicions, and I suspect you are correct. More than that, I cannot say.' the hat said.
'Damn that old man to hell and back!' the woman exploded in her head.
'I know you can't say it, but I can see where your thoughts went.' the hat said. Her oaths may bind her, but that didn't stop the magical hat from reading her thoughts. 'Go speak to the headmaster, as you told Harry. Hopefully, you will learn more.'
'I will not let him return to those monsters!' the woman exclaimed, in her head still.
'Trust me, he won't.' the hat said, with a certain sense of satisfaction coming from him.
'It's dealt with?' she asked, hopefully.
'It should be.' the hat allowed. 'But I don't think Harry would mind if you read the old coot the riot act…' he suggested.
'I might just castrate the bent old goat, myself.' the woman cursed.
'Do you dislike alternate lifestyles?' the hat asked, interestedly.
'What?' the woman asked.
The hat chuckled. 'Bent, is a slur for homosexual.' he said.
The woman paled a bit. 'Didn't know that. I was just upset, and I've heard that before, to describe the headmaster.'
'I know. I was just teasing you, to lighten your spirits.' the hat said. 'It is a slur, though, so be careful with it.'
There was silence for a few moments. 'We really let that boy down, didn't we?' she asked.
'He's on the road to recovery.' the hat said. 'Just be there, support him, and try and give him some love, if your heart is available. He's not had any of that, that he can consciously remember.'
'Are you allowed to tell me that?' the woman asked, thinking that that was rather personal.
'Knowing what you know, have you not come to that conclusion yourself?' the hat asked, knowing she had.
'Fair point.' she allowed. 'So, just support him, ensure he doesn't kill himself, and maybe a hug, every now and then?'
'Tea, I think.' the had said. 'When he comes to visit, sit him down for tea, and ask him about more than just his experiments. Be an aunt, or something. I'm afraid that he… blurgl.' the hat finished, as he came to a dead end, not able to finish the thought. That time, it had been too personal. Still, he'd done it on purpose, to give the woman a clue. It was pushing the edges of what he was able to do, but he'd do it for his friend.
'Already lost his mother.' the woman said. 'I've confirmed that he has emotional issues, likely due to being raised in a house without love, and even more likely filled with the opposite. He escapes his trauma, by simplifying things, and avoiding emotion. He focusses specifically on things he can control. It is unfortunate, but I've seen it before.'
The hat was silent.
'I'll try.' she finally said. 'Merlin knows, with this interface, he deserves more than simple gratitude.'
'It's time.' the hat said. 'Harry has almost finished the duplicate. He's currently working on setting up a function that will allow the duplicate to move like him, to minimize overlap issues.'
'Is he a prodigy?' the woman asked. 'I can't decide if it's a mental affinity due to his trauma, or if he's just an actual genius.'
'A bit of luck, and a genuinely unique perspective.' the hat said. 'I also think magic loves him, but that's my personal bias and hope for my friend.'
'I think I'll choose to believe that too.' she decided. 'Merlin knows, he deserves every bit he can get his hands on, and then a little bit of the rest of ours.'
'Agreed.' the hat said, as the woman approached Harry.
"So, have you found any issues with your immortality idea, yet?" the woman asked, with a bit of a smile.
"Yes, actually." Harry said. "I can likely restore form, but not function. Going through the book, quickly, I discovered an issue that magic, at least this kind, cannot affect. I'd be restoring the form, yes, but I'm not actually going to be affecting my body's time. For immortality, I'd need something that works on a cellular level, I think. I can likely work it out, but it would take months, at least, and you'd only be able to do it for yourself, not someone else. Then there's also the issue of magical cost at working on that level… I'd need way more information than I have. Then there will likely be issues with the temporary nature of Transfiguration."
"Oh, so immortality is beyond your capabilities, for months, is it?" the woman asked. "Well, what a let-down. I thought more of you, Mister Potter." she joked, a bit of a smile on her face.
"You're a comedian." Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Can we start?"
"I'll be making a very shallow incision on your wand-arm." the woman said, nodding.
'Leg.' the hat suggested. 'If something goes wrong, which I'm sure it won't, a wand arm is something he'll miss more.'
"Maybe… a toe, then?" the woman asked, thinking the hat was right, and that she should be more cautious.
"Do the arm." Harry sighed. "This will work. If it doesn't, it still won't hurt me, just not fix me."
"Did you think of some sort of protection, like a form of back-tracking, so that any issues can be reversed?" the woman asked.
"Yes." Harry lied. "Now, do it already, I'm getting hungry."
Sighing and realising that she'd taken enough of the young man's time, the woman nodded, and used her wand to make an area numb, prevented bleeding, and then made a very shallow cut, like a scratch, really.
"You're really holding back, aren't you?" Harry asked, shaking his head, as he focussed in on the model and the copy, and isolated the parts he wanted, overlaying the perfect copy, and then activating the function.
Madam Pomphrey had high hopes for the boy's success, but even she had not expected for the wound to simply stop existing. It hadn't closed up or healed. It was like it vanished, and never was. Even the hair that had been cut off, were back, like nothing had even happened. She wondered about that, but then realised Harry might have just switched off the hair, in his interface.
"Tada." Harry said, lamely. "I told you it would work. Have a little faith, for goodness sakes."
The woman sighed out. She didn't know all that could go wrong, but she'd forgotten the cardinal rule. This was magic, not a machine. Harry had covered everything he could, to ensure the magic itself knew what to do. She really should have a bit more faith.
"I stand corrected and bow to your superior skill." the woman said, making a mock bow to him.
"That's okay. I can be magnanimous and forgive you for forgetting your place." Harry mocked back.
The woman sent a fake glare at him, for his joke. "And? What about the cost?" she asked.
"Minimal. Didn't even lose a percent." Harry said. "It took more to make the duplicate. That was about twenty percent of my reserves, but it will keep, for the future. If I make a couple of changes, it will even change as I do. That's the plan, anyway."
"Be careful." the woman said, anyway. "Your automated systems have made a big mistake in the past. How much power are you putting into that book, these days, anyway?"
"It only takes power as new memories comes in, now." Harry said. "Apparently a large portion of the cost, before, was going through a lot of memories and sorting them, quickly. Now, the book is more like an automated function, which just neatly sorts my memories as I go. Very low upkeep. I've still limited the amount of power any one process can take and put a limiter in place to slow everything down to a crawl, should I almost run dry, again."
'Don't want any repeats, after all.' the hat said, in both their heads, again.
Poppy jumped, not having expected that. "How do I end this connection… thing?" she asked.
"Just think of it and deactivate it." Harry said. "Like when you switched it on. The hat can still use the connection to make contact, and talk to you, but you need to accept the connection to allow him to hear you. He tries to scare me, sometimes, but I can feel him coming now, thanks to the occlumency."
'I do have access to Harry's eyes, though, because he allowed me access, so I know when I can talk to him.' the hat said. 'Harry's had an idea of adding a sound to the contact, like a telephone call, but I keep saying the ring will just scare you, too.'
"Wait, can I contact Harry this way, now?" she asked, looking at her interface, again, looking for an image for him. For her, the interface just appeared, when she wanted to see it. Harry seemed to like wiping his into existence, and away, again.
'Legilimency allows me to do it.' the hat said. 'But, knowing Harry, he'll probably figure out something, if he wants it enough.'
"So, no." Harry said. "I could consider adding a messaging function, though. It could be useful, along with my calendar, day-planner and schedule. Oh, I forgot to tell you, I got that reminder working."
'You did?' the hat asked. 'Did you hide it from me, again?'
"Hey, you got me the book on occlumency." Harry said, smirking. "I like surprising you. You already read my every conscious thought, so I need to do something."
'Did you get any other feature to work?' the hat asked.
"Still need to crack wandless magic before I can set up alerts that others can benefit from." Harry said.
"Wandless magic?" the healer asked.
"It's on the books, for the long school holiday." Harry said. "Can't use magic out of school, after all. Might as well use that as motivation. My magic doesn't have the trace, after all. Just my wand."
"You will not threaten exposing our world, by casting whatever you feel like, all willy-nilly, young man." the woman said, sternly. "There's a reason for the trace."
"Do I look like some sort of prankster?" Harry asked.
"Yes, you do." the woman said. "You may not know this, but your father looked just like you. Him and his cohorts were a menace to this school. They painted the great hall red, replaced the quidditch grass with four leafed-clovers and once even swapped the girls and boys staircases in the common room. Nobody even knew how! The boys couldn't go to their own beds, because it kept on ejecting them! Minerva was furious!"
Harry's smile just grew and grew.
'What have you done?' the hat asked in Poppy's head.
'Gave him a creative outlet.' the woman replied back.
'I knew I liked you for a reason.' the hat said, a smirk in his tone, as he felt a bit of Poppy's intent. She wanted him to think of fun things, besides just spending all his time in his head. Neither of them could think that it was good for him.
"If you'll excuse me, I believe I have a legacy to live up to." Harry said, smirking. Then his smile faded. "Wait, is that why Professor Snape hates me?" he asked.
"I can't discuss that." Poppy said. 'That was really quick!' she said in her head. She got a mental nod from the hat, indicating that it was normal for Harry.
"It went bad, then." Harry said, frowning.
"Just… do everyone a favour, and go for harmless fun, okay?" she asked. "Things that make everyone laugh, without victims. That was usually what your father and his friends did. Accidents happen, when you don't plan things out, or think them through properly. I suspect that you might be more successful, considering your capabilities."
Harry nodded, as he walked from the room.
'You do realise you gave him the idea that his father was irresponsible, right?' the hat asked.
"Better to not tell him his father actually saved Severus." Poppy suggested. Fortunately, she'd learned that outside her role as a healer. "Severus's attitude still boggles the mind, considering that."
'He's a child.' the hat said. 'I'm usually with Harry during most of his day, keeping an eye, and giving a comment or two, to keep the boy focussed, when I know something that I know he might like to know. Harry's never been anything but respectful, but the man's hatred runs deeper than simple schoolyard squabbles.'
"Please do inform me if I need to step in?" the woman requested.
'Fat chance.' the hat snorted. 'Harry doesn't know it, but his perfect behaviour in his class is more irritating to Severus, than actually being a bad student would be.'
The matron smiled at that. "He's a good boy." she said.
'The best.' the hat agreed. 'Anyway, I've got a book to get back to. Do remember to start adding things to that open space you call an interface, at some point. It's strange seeing only my image in there.'
Then, the voice was gone. A look confirmed that the image had changed. Now, the hat looked asleep.
Poppy suddenly remembered that she had many things to discuss with the headmaster, so she went to her desk, to sit down and make a list. Then she remembered she had a large open space that only she could show someone. It took her a bit, but before long, she had a representation of a piece of parchment in there.
She'd seen Harry manipulate things in his interface, and assumed, considering some functions copied, that this would work, too, and indicated for the parchment to expand, which it did. Figuring out how to write, was a bit more difficult. She started, by moving her fingers above the interface, like she was holding a quill. Imagining the letters appear, made them appear. Then, she lowered her hand to her desk, and continued. Half an hour later, the writing appeared as quickly as she could think it. She smiled to herself. Such a useful concept!
Making the parchment small, this time, was done without a move. And then, another one appeared, at her mental direction, which expanded, and then shrunk again. she imagined a pin, sticking the parchments to the interface, and they appeared. No wonder the boy had so much fun inventing things. All she had to do was think of something enough, and it appeared. It was absolutely, without question, one of the most fun and interactive things she'd ever had the pleasure of working with.
She pulled up the original list and read through it. Seeing an error, and sighing, thinking she'd have to redo her list, to make it look neat (because she needed that), she was surprised when she looked up, and the mistake had already corrected itself.
"That boy is an absolute genius." she whispered in awe.
III-III
Dumbledore was tired of having bad days creep up on him. Seriously! This time it was the school nurse! Sure, he'd suspected that she'd learn some things. Oh, no, nothing that mild. She'd apparently learned enough to rant at him, like he was a misbehaving dog! For two hours! She didn't let him speak. She just unleashed on him, like he was her personal punching bag.
And what's worse, she hit hard, with painful facts that went down to his heart and actually left his heart aching, when she finally decided she'd had her pound of his flesh. She'd called him names, insulted his heritage, compared him to very unflattering things, and then, she'd threatened him.
"And so help me, Albus, if I hear that you intend to send him back to those people, I'll dose you up and submit you to Saint Mungo's wing, for the mentally unstable, with strict orders to keep you under for the rest of your miserable life!" she finished, before she stormed out of his office, slamming the door so hard that he wondered if it would be stuck.
He sighed, looking down at his table, as he contemplated, again, how he would fix all the mistakes of his life. He did not like hearing laughter from Phineas Nigellus Black's painting. There were quite a few voices. It seemed that some of the previous headmasters and headmistresses were still keeping tabs on him and had enjoyed his dressing down.
"I'm working on fixing it, okay!?" he exclaimed.
"Where's Sirius Black, Dumbledore?" came the familiar voice.
Dumbledore's face lost some colour, as he realised what he'd done.
"Exactly." the familiar voice continued. "Enjoy your just deserts, you bent old goat!" it laughed.
Dumbledore deserved it, he knew. He'd earned it. He would not become bitter, though. He was stronger than that. He'd fix it, and he would earn their respect again, even if it was the last thing he did.
A little voice in the back of his head didn't agree. 'Hopefully, the last thing you do.' He knew the curse wasn't a bluff. He'd gone looking and found evidence of Helga Hufflepuff's rage. He had been weighed and measured and been found wanting. His only option was repentance. And he had limited time to do it in. Before him stretched an eternity of suffering, if he didn't fix things in the current generation's lifetime. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be lucky, and help to stop the Dark Lord's return, too.