Chapter Text
His fingertips were covered in black ink, they have been stained for weeks now. A new constant, as new and constant as the never ending headache. Scattered around his desk were heaps of old and new books, most with worn pages and small annotations. Everything from the fundamentals of magic to illustrated field guides for flowers.
A peculiar madness began to envelop him, insidiously, akin to poison ivy sprouting from the pages of his books and winding its way up his arms. It clung to him relentlessly, constricting with punishing force, until it reached his mouth, compelling it to open and allowing the madness to seep in and take root. Gradually, it expanded, claiming more and more space. Making him forget his hunger, letting his stomach roar into the abyss. But he couldn't close the books, it was something he was missing that was right behind the page.
It all had started in the beginning of the summer, after Cedric's death.
It never did make sense. Him being a hero. He wasn’t brave, or clever or necessarily more kind than his friends. When he looked in the mirror he didn’t find one part of him that looked heroic.
It made sense. Because why would the world that they said he saved leave him to rote in the cupboard. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t worth that title, it should have gone to his mom.
And didn’t you need to live an exciting life to be a hero? Certainly, there were moments when his existence teetered on the edge of too much excitement. Yet, more often than not, it felt as though he merely existed, devoid of any aspirations beyond the simple act of survival, as if his sole purpose revolved around evading death.
Hedwig was starting to become restless, it had been a rare sultry summer. The heat was suffocating. Claustrophobic. His back ached and his eyes were soar.
The book he was reading for his defense against the dark arts class was like pure Latin. It left him with his thoughts wandering. Wandering on the same path that they have turned to all summer long. His identity and horrifically stupid idea that he is a hero. A martyr would be a more fitting title. A white lamb with glittering eyes. Foolish courage.
“If this text is seemingly hard to grasp, then you might want to consider reading "Foundations of Enchantment: Unveiling the Mysteries of Magic" .”
It couldn’t hurt, he thought. He would need to ask Dobby to fetch it for him.
When the book came it was thicker than any other book he had had, and with more footnotes to count. The weird thing was that the book was light as a feather, even if it was leather bound.
The book in turn referenced at least fifty other books as well as multiple magical studies done over the span of centuries. It did make it a bit tedious to read, but manageable. His to be read list grew longer and longer. What he read was truly interesting and explained more than anything why he sometimes struggled in class. With each thing he understood more clearly, other things got revealed that he didn’t have a clue about. And the circle continued yet again. Everything in the muggle world is interconnected with each other, it seemed even more true with the magical world at hand.
Every field of magic was connected to each other, which in turn was connected to traditions, which was nowadays heavily controlled by the ministry. And that was just lightly mentioned in one of the more mischievous books. All of the other books completely ignored it. It infuriated Harry to no end.
It took him several days before he decided to write to the author of “The Great paradoxical confirmative theory of line magic and its manipulation.” To ask him about his remarks and source of information. The author was as mysterious as his source martial . He had published multiple articles and books both locally and internationally. But he hadn't once been interviewed or been seen in an official capacity.
Subject: Inquiry Regarding Sources and Connections in "The Great Paradoxical Confirmative Theory of Line Magic and Its Manipulation"
Dear Thimothee Reid,
I trust this message finds you in good spirits.
I recently immersed myself in the intricate depths of your work, "The Great Paradoxical Confirmative Theory of Line Magic and Its Manipulation." Your meticulous referencing of numerous magical studies spanning centuries provided both a wealth of knowledge and an ever-expanding reading list. I found the journey through your text to be simultaneously enlightening and challenging, as each revelation seemed to uncover new layers of understanding while also revealing gaps in my own comprehension.
Your exploration of the interconnectedness of magical disciplines resonated deeply with me, particularly as I reflected on my own struggles in certain areas of study. It became abundantly clear that the magical world, much like the Muggle world, is a complex web of traditions, disciplines, and regulations. Your astute observation regarding the subtle influence of the Ministry on magical practices, as hinted at in one of the more vague chapters, struck a chord with me and left me contemplating the broader implications of such control.
However, amidst the wealth of information presented in your work, I find myself drawn to a particular aspect that remains shrouded in mystery: the sources of your information. As I ventured deeper into your references and footnotes, I couldn't help but wonder about the origins of the knowledge you so eloquently elucidate. Your insights into line magic and its manipulation are profound, and I am eager to gain a deeper understanding of the foundation upon which they are built.
Therefore, I am reaching out to you with a humble request for clarification. Could you kindly shed some light on the sources from which you drew your inspiration and information? I am particularly interested in learning more about the historical and theoretical underpinnings that informed your theories, as well as any personal experiences that may have contributed to your unique perspective.
I understand the value of maintaining a level of discretion, especially in a field as esoteric as magical studies which is discussed with a critical eye on the ministry. However, I believe that sharing some insights with an earnest seeker of knowledge such as myself would not only enhance my understanding of your work but also contribute to the broader discourse within our community.
Thank you for considering my request, and I eagerly await your response.
Warm regards,
Harrison.
He had forgotten about his letter by the time it arrived. It had been yet again a long and tedious day of research. It felt like there was a big gaping hole in every piece of literature he read, like it had been forcefully carved out. Leaving the text bleeding and starving. Only a few texts were intact, but with those it almost felt like what the author wrote down was hiding the truth behind a hidden code that he could disphere. It was maddening. All the work made him even more confused and lost. It didn’t feel like he owned his body anymore, like he had left it behind. Rotting.
It startled him so much that he accidentally knocked some books off his desk as Hedwiged swooped in with his letter. The letter felt heavy in his hands, the green enveloped looked and felt expansive. He ripped it open with a feverish lust for answers.
Subject: Re: Inquiry Regarding Sources and Connections in "The Great Paradoxical Confirmative Theory of Line Magic and Its Manipulation"
Dear Harrison,
I must express my gratitude for your thoughtful inquiry into my work. Your appreciation for the complexities of magical theory is evident.
As you navigate the labyrinth of magical knowledge, it is natural to seek clarity on the sources that inform our perspectives. I must admit, however, that the origins of my insights are as elusive as the shadows themselves. They are the product of a lifetime of exploration, both within the pages of dusty tomes and in the crucible of personal experience. Most of the books I use are from private collections which aren't available for the public, but I can recommend some milder books that can get you started.
In the spirit of intellectual exchange, I would be inclined to share with you a curated list of magical texts that have shaped my own understanding of the arcane arts. These volumes represent a diverse array of perspectives and traditions, each offering its own unique insights into the mysteries of magic. I trust that you will find them both enlightening and provocative:
- "The Dark Arts: A Comprehensive Guide" by Alistair Blackwood
- "Blood Magic and Ritual Sacrifice" by Morgana Nightshade
- "The Power of Pure Blood: A Manifesto" by Avery Potter
- "The Unforgivable Curses: Theory and Practice" by Evan Rosier.
- "Conquest and Dominion: A Treatise on Magical Supremacy" by Walburga Black.
Additionally, I would like to extend an invitation for you to an acquaintance who shares our passion for magical theory. Miranda Bennett, a prodigious elder witch residing on Splinter Road, has long been a vocal advocate for the exploration of darker magical arts. I believe that your conversation, enriched by her insights, will prove illuminating indeed.
Please let me know if you would be interested in arranging this meeting, and I will gladly coordinate the details. Until then, may your studies continue to guide you on the path to enlightenment.
Yours in magic,
Thimothee Reid
Harry's face broke out in a careful smile as he read the letter, it was truly more than he had expected. It did however shock him to see his own last name on the list of books and authors, but he didn’t put too much thought into it.
It wasn't hard to convince the Dursleys to let him go to London alone. They had barely been in contact with each other all summer long. It could go long stretches of time before Aunt Petunia remembered that Harry existed and demanded his help, which was a double-edged sword. On one hand it meant hours from his books but it also reminded him to eat something little. Those long hours working in her garden or in the kitchen were used to analyze the more complex side of magical theory in a way that was hard to do with the information right under one's nose. It felt good to stretch his limbs, and arch his back.
He didn't know who he would meet tomorrow. It was reckless, and he was fully aware of it. But if it could heal those holes that left his books bleeding it would be worth it. He was stuck, he wouldn't truly get somewhere further without her help.
The first thing he would attend to when he arrived would be to get some sort of rune work charm to slightly change his appearances to make it less obvious that it was him. But not powerful enough to physically feel magic pulse out from it.
It was an early British summer morning, the sun shined through the window hitting him directly in his face. Today was the day he finally might get a clue to what was hiding right in front of his nose. He dressed in his most pristine clothes, which meant his cleanest black trousers and a simple gray (used to be white) pullover.
On a little scrap of paper had he written down everything he needed to accomplish before being able to come back to his books.
Number one on the list was to visit Gringotts, and hopefully score a meeting with his advisor.
Number two, go to Glyph & Brew to pick up the things needed for rune work as well as some small non- suspicious ritual artifacts.
Number three, buying a magical suitcase as well as a magical backpack that he could use to store his books as knicknacks at hogwarts.
The last thing on his agenda was his appointment with Miranda Bennet. He should probably bring some sort of hostess gift as well.
That hostess gift ended up being a basket field with a veil of hypericaceae extract, a book mark with a mushroom motif, a pouch with dried lingonberries and a regular glass jar of blue ink.
He quite nervously hugged the basket close to his chest as he waited for someone to open the door. It wasn't that he was nervous that someone might recognize him, it was more the fact that he would meet a stranger in times where everyone had an agenda.
As the door opened he was greeted with a young woman in her thirties, with rumpled blond hair wearing an all too big dress shirt, her fingers had calluses. She had a shy smile, but sharp eyes.
“Welcome, welcome. Come in come in. Don’t just stand there looking like a fool.” Her accent wasn’t British, not even close. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.
“Oh thank you!” He said starlet, his voice picking embarrassingly enough. It took him a beat too long to almost push his hostess gift into her arms, his face heating up. It gave her on the other hand quite a giggle.
“Such a generous boy, you are.”
“It's nothing, really.”
“And modest.” She added on, before deciding to briskly walk deeper inside of her townhouse.
She sat down in a quite large armchair in the middle of her living room while placing the gift basket on the table in front of her, before shoving nonchalantly with her hand where he should sit down.
“Now when we are inside, boy, should you take away those pesky illusion charms.”
“How did you know?”
“You did ask me to help you with your research, did you not?”
“Well, yes I did.”
“Then why do you assume that I'm an imbecile? It's quite obvious too! Let me guess, you went to Greta. I absolutely hate her craft, so flashy and pretentious.” She said as she summed a teapot without her wand, and a pair of mismatched teacups. “Well, get on with it! We don’t have all day long.”
Keeping his eyes on her to get her reaction he removed first his bracelet, then the ring and last a stone from his shoe.
“Huh, I wouldn't have guessed it would be Harry Potter hiding under that mask.”
“Who did you think I was hiding? Barbie?”
Her eyes scanned over him yet again, as she brought her tea cups to her lips.
“What were you wondering about?”
“So, you see I actually started doing my homework this year. Like properly doing it, referencing my books and stuff. Not just using my own notes. And I started noticing a pattern, they skittered around stuff, like there was this big wide hole in every book. Like someone had forcefully carved out a piece of the text. Like something was missing, sometimes it felt like the books actually bleed from the loss.”
“You are aware that that wasn't a question, right?”
“Oh! Well, can you tell me what's missing?”
“Are you asking me to tell you what's missing for each individually unknown book you have read?”
“You don't have a single clue what's missing?”
“Of course I do! I'm not an infant.”
—-------
“You didn't tell me you had invited Dumbledore's bitch to my house!”
“So so rude today, Miss Bennet.”
“Well, what reaction did you think this would garner?”
“Nothing ever justifies rudeness, don't you think?” He asked condescendingly, before casting a wandless Imperio.
“Of course, Master.”